sixwordstories | (no subject)

[ There is a knock at her door, soft but audible. Which is surprising, because any other time if he chose to see her he'd just appear at her window or inside her mirror. But this time, he knocks. There's a reason for it. ]

[She stirs, head turning to the knock. She wasn't expecting anyone - wouldn't be. She'd been holed up in her place since she'd been released; quitting the Avengers, leaving everything, because she was no longer able to cope. She felt like a hollow, empty doll version of herself, going through the motions but no longer really there anymore. It had taken a month for her to come out of her self-induced catatonic state. Another month for her to be able to focus on the people talking to her.

But she'd never told them anything. That was hers. Her betrayal. One she hated herself for every day.

Pushing herself slowly up, she wrapped a blanket around herself and went to answer the door -

And promptly froze when she saw who was there]

[ If it helps, he only looks like a mess if one knows where to look, and she knows him well enough to do just that. Sure, it's a nice, pressed suit and fashionable scarf of his, but the high collar and long sleeves are only covers, masks of their own right. That might be a cane in one hand. She could look close enough and see marks, look close enough and notice he's thinned and looks as exhausted as ever only in his eyes, but ... hey, he's standing upright, that's always a plus.

There's a momentary arch of his brow when she finally does answer the door, looking in no less a sorry state than he is save for a change in wardrobe. He tries not to sigh as he nods his head in greeting, his voice ragged, almost mumbling. ]

And here I had thought I'd know exactly what to say. Strange.

[The first thing she wants to do is throw herself at him, wind her arms around his neck and breath in his scent; the hole inside her fluttering with hope. She smiled before she could stop herself, eyes drinking him in.

And she noticed the little things. The gauntness. The weariness. It galled her. He'd been imprisoned before. Had fought and been bested by his brother before. And he'd always resiliently bounced back. It made her wonder what they'd done; if they'd taken their anger out on him while she'd been... well. While she'd been otherwise engaged.

Watching him, she warily moved aside, opening the door and inviting him in. A part of her was waiting for that look, that word that would open the floodgates and have him spew out how he knew she'd betray him and how she was worth less than dog shit. She waited, but she invited him in all the same]

[ Admittedly, that was what he was half expecting. She would either throw herself at him sobbing, or launch herself at him shouting. Either way he was expecting a broken nose as the end result, so when neither came there was a small hint of relief.

He nods once more as she moves aside for him, and it turns out that it really is a cane that he uses as he takes the necessary steps inside. He doesn't lean heavily on it, but it's clearly being used for support. But his steps are just as calm and calculated as she would remember, soft and careful, as if he were ready to spring at any moment. The apartment is a little tidier than what he had expected as well, but the mess of bedsheets and blankets haphazard in the bedroom are evidence enough. ]

And I was almost expecting to watch for broken glass. [ He turns to meet her gaze, a hand gesturing towards the couch. ] May I?

Of course.

[She watches him, as always, tracking his movement as she closes the door. The cane isn't just for show - something that has a brief flicker of rage licking through her. How dare they. From what she'd heard, he'd given himself up, as easy as you please. Her hands bunched into fists, ones she forced herself to relax as she followed him over to the couch.

She sat on her chair, legs curled up and tucking them under the blanket as he sat. Questions were running rampant in her head; what was he doing here, what did he want, what had they done to him? She kept them to herself, though. Her eyes continued to watch him, though she couldn't bring herself to meet his.

How he must hate her..]

Thank you. [ He makes his way to the couch to have a seat, taking his careful time with it, and setting the cane aside to prop up against the couch from the floor. At least he was allowed to pick one that looked classy.

His legs cross and his hands fold in his lap as he leans back, taking in all the sights, remembering his last visit here. He doesn't gesture for her to join him on the couch, not that he'd mind but more the feeling that he's certain she doesn't really want to sit next to him right now. He is still waiting for that nose punch, after all. ]

There are two reasons for my visit. [ He glances down at his hands for a moment, before looking back up again. ] And neither of them sound like me, so I understand any skepticism on your behalf, but for once I am being honest.

[He's being too careful. The way he moves, the way he's watching her, like he's expecting something to strike him. She'd laugh if she wasn't expecting the same thing herself.

She's curled up in her chair, watching him, when he speaks. She blinks, not expecting that in the slightest, but there was something there, something that told her whatever he was going to say was the truth. Maybe he had 'found god'.. Wouldn't that be a laugh]

I'll keep an open mind.

[ Seriously, why hasn't there been a flying projectile aimed at his noggin yet. ]

Firstly ... I must apologize. [ Clue number one that this was a Big Deal, that whatever finally smacked him upside the head had rattled the wrong wires loose and plugged the right ones back in. Loki doesn't apologize because he is never wrong. Right? ] I've treated you terribly. I was so consumed by my anger and my distrust of everyone I've ever met, that I was blind to your honesty that has been so foreign to me. I chose to be blind to it, because I was truly afraid that the moment I let myself believe it would be the same moment it would disappear from me.

It was wrong of me.

[She blinks, only just managing to keep her jaw from dropping open in shock. Loki? Was apologizing? To her? She surreptitiously gave herself a small pinch. No, this was not one of her wild, lucid dreams.

That small flutter in the gaping hole got bigger]

I-- I appreciate that. Thank you.

[ Imagine Loki's surprise when he realized it was the only logical conclusion. Nearly gave himself a heart attack.

Her acceptance of his apology is more of a relief than being let in the front door. But it's only the first step, and he doesn't look at all thrilled to continue with this. He knows he must, however. She wouldn't let him leave after seeing him like this anyway. And that especially had to be explained. It's with a heavy pause and a soft sigh that he continues. ]

As for the second reason ... I require assistance. [ He casts a glance at the cane, avoiding her gaze now. ] I've recently had to undergo some ... changes, as part of my release bargain. I was hoping that, perhaps, you could help me.

[She sees his eyes flick to his cane and her brow furrows]

What kind of changes..?

[Oh yes, there's a hint of anger in her voice now, probably the first sign of anything other than grief and misery she's shown since that day]

What did they do to you, Loki?

[Because damn if she didn't want to go in and beat the everloving hell out of them for what she saw in his face. He seemed.. ashamed. And Loki didn't do 'ashamed']

[ Well. No turning back now. Without a word yet, he brings his hands up to undo the buttons of his shirt collar, tugging it down to reveal the skin of his neck. He rolls up his sleeves after as well, so she can see everything. Perhaps she remembers the runes that were engraved into the shackles that had sealed his magic the first time she'd seen him imprisoned. Most of them are familiar or exactly the same as those, but there are a few new ones now, and they're burned into his very skin to leave rather hideous black marks. ]

I had a choice.

[ They still sting a fair bit, so he tries not to rub or touch anything with them. Ashamed ... perhaps, but wasn't it for the better good? ]

I could remain in their prison for the rest of a god's life, until starvation and isolation finally claimed me ...

Or I could live freely, as a mortal.