Cover Up The Sun

Chapter 7

Chapter Notes:

More of the sort-of not-really spoilers for Thor 2. The timeline was different in this 'verse, so certain events played out differently than in the movie, but I did attempt to arrange things so that the emotional impact on Loki would be about the same.

– Mikkeneko

†_____†_____†

Somehow –

(unfairly,)

– the world did not end.

The sun continued in its orbit, the lonely single moon did not crash into the benighted sea of this planet, and time continued in its relentless march. The weekend passed on by, and come Monday the life of the school returned to its usual pace.

Loki did not.

He barely roused himself to the extent of sending messages to the front office that his classes – all of them – were cancelled for the week. He offered no explanations as to why, but the young lady squiring for Xavier offered to record it as 'sick leave,' so perhaps this was a common hazard of frail mortal existence.

He sent word to Xavier himself that he would not be coming to any sessions this week, and received back a note in reply saying that Xavier would respect his choices, but looked forward to seeing him again. He also avoided his by-now routine meeting with Hank and the other teachers. The only duty he could not bear to neglect was Illyana's magic lessons; she needed him far more than he needed to be alone, and he could not bear to abandon her when her control over her magic was still so fragile. Could not bear the thought of failing her, too.

So he continued to meet with her, sessions in the evening that felt like nerve-grinding agony that sapped his strength every moment he was out of his rooms. Still, if no progress was made, at least Illyana did not backslide; and she was young enough, and preoccupied enough with her own problems, that she took no notice of her instructor's strange demeanor.

Except for those hour-long meetings, Loki did not leave his apartment for any reason. The shadowed rooms began to bear down on him, stifling like a prison – yet to step outside of them was more stifling yet. At least in his rooms he could lay on his bed fully clothed and pretend to the normalcy of sleeping.

In his more lucid moments, Loki disgusted himself with his pathetic show of listlessness; lying about like a broken thing, fit for no more than turning food into waste. If Thor were here, no doubt he would castigate Loki for 'sulking' and stand his bed on its end to dump him and his blankets on the floor. But Thor wasn't here.

He should get up, get himself together, and go –  this he knew, yet he could not bring himself to do such a thing. To do anything. For all his wild thoughts raced, they only wore deeper ruts in his mind, like rats trapped in a bare kennel, finding no new outlets.

He could see no way forward from here. Asgard was closed to him forever – not because he feigned at being dead, nor because he feared Odin's censure or the outrage of his once-people – but because Frigga was gone and ever would be until Ragnarok, and he knew he could not bear the pain of that golden realm without her.

Yet he knew not where else to go. Jotunheim would remember his treachery, barring the world to him even if he had any desire to go there (which he didn't.) Svartalfheim was no more, and the rest of the realms too tightly held under Asgard's hegemony. Going to any of those would be as much as serving himself on a platter for Odin and Heimdall.