sixwordstories | (no subject)

[She's almost distracted from the hesitancy he's showing by him saying her name. Almost. But she nods, going back into the kitchen to get his bear, giving it another quick squeeze and a kiss before carrying it back where he could see her, holding it out to him.

She stands by the bed, looking down at him, slipping her hands into her pockets]

Is there.. something? Something you need that you don't want to ask for? Or.. I don't know.. I just seems like you want to say something.

[ There is a relief shown in his eyes when the bear's brought to him, and he sets the book beside him so that the plush could occupy his lap instead. But then she lingers, and she asks, and he is caught.

He hesitates. He curls up slightly, knees to his chest and plush held almost protectively in his arms. And he cannot meet her gaze, a heavy silence in the room before he does speak and it's so quiet that if she was in the next room over she could not hear him. ]

... when I was brought in, I spoke to Thor. He was angry and upset with me. But he asked why I had turned myself in.

[ His heart's pounding heavy in his chest. What would she think when she heard how he'd answered? ]

[She'd wondered that herself. He could have fled. Or waged his war, like he'd wanted. But instead, she'd heard that he'd simply come along with them, quiet and easy. She hadn't believed it until everyone had corroborated it.

And it had confused her.

His position with the bear, his body language, all pointed out how vulnerable this conversation was making him feel, and she took a step back - giving him space]

You don't have to.. I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, that's okay, Loki.

[ She stepped back, away from him. Loki wasn't sure how to take that. Every instinct in his body that had been with him since birth and had formed throughout his life was telling him that this was a rejection, that she didn't want to deal with whatever it was he would have told her. That explained the dagger-like feeling in his chest.

But she was also different, from all of them. She'd never been dishonest with him, had looked out for him, had taken him in now and cared for him. Was she really just concerned for him now, worried about his current (pathetic) state and stepping back for himself?

... he nods his head, holding the bear tighter. ] Another time.

[ Until then, he'll try to figure out which of the two she was. ]

[She didn't notice her hand moving until it was touching his hair. Quickly jerking it back, she cursed at herself, shoving it back in her pocket and blushing. So much for keeping her hands to herself]

I'm sorry.. about that. I'll just.. go now.

[Turning, she picked up the bundle she'd left when he'd come in]

[ He hadn't looked up in time to notice her hand moving closer, just finally recognizing it when he felt her soft touch in his hair. He froze, eyes widening as she suddenly pulled away and turned to leave.

If he was confused before, then what did that mean?

Is it pity? Is it sympathy? Is it just a mild comfort? Why did she pull away if it wasn't any of those? ]

... good night.

[ Book. Right, he had a book he could read. He shifts until he's leaning back against the headboard, the held to his chest and the book opened in his lap. But his mind is swimming and it's too hard to focus. ]

Good night, Loki.

[She leaves, closing the door mostly and throwing everything on the couch, sinking down to sit on it with her head in her hands.

Leave him alone, she reminded herself for the billionth time. She'd have to start doing some kind of electric shock collar thing every time she touched him - just to get her to stop.

She wasn't tired yet, but she was grumpy with herself, kicking the bundle down to the end of the couch and sprawling sulkily along it, arm flung over her eyes as she went through a mental barrage of what a moron she was]

[ He tries to read, even when his eyes aren't focusing properly. At least an hour passes, maybe closer to two, before he realizes he's read the same page ever since opening the book. It's not working, the book is not as good a distraction as he'd hoped.

He spends another five, maybe ten minutes just thinking, and holding his bear close. But then he decides that he can't sleep like this, no matter how exhausted he is. So he pushes himself up out of bed, leaving the book but bringing his bear with him. He eyes the cane, but he leaves it there, propped up against the bed. And he takes small, slow, unsteady steps to the living room.

Eventually he makes it there, where he quietly crawls up onto the chair nearest the couch and curls up as small as he can make himself, hoping not to disturb her. ]

[Since she's not sleeping, she hears him get up. Hears him shuffle almost painfully slow out to the living room. Hears him move to the chair.

And then nothing.

Is he sick? Is something wrong? She lifts her arm, tipping her head back to look at him, biting her lip as she sees him curled up like he's expecting someone to come and blow him away in a puff of wind, trying to keep herself from saying anything like, 'Oh, sweetie' or any other host of pet names she's given him in her head]

Loki? Are you okay? What's wrong?

[She pushes herself up, looking at him in concern]

[ Ah. So she is awake.

At first, he almost thinks to continue from earlier, but he decides against it. Another time, just like they agreed on. ]

I can't sleep.

[ At least that much is true. He doesn't move from his position on the chair, curled up the same way he used to sleep as a cat, only he wishes this time that he was a cat so the moisture in his eyes wouldn't be as obvious. ]

Oh, sweetie..

[Another mental curse. She just couldn't do anything right. She moves to kneel beside the chair, looking up at him, careful not to touch him, though. She can do that much, at least]

What's wrong? Are you hurt?

[Well, more than they'd done to him]

[ "Sweetie."

... he likes it.

He lifts his head just a little when she draws close to him, and he tries not to recoil further away from her. She can help, he has to keep reminding himself of that. She's here to help him. She takes care of him. She brings him teddy bears. ]

I'm not hurt, no. I--

[ and a pause, for a deep breath to steel himself. ]

... I'm afraid.

Afraid?

[And then it hits her. Loki - the God of Mischief - is mortal. He's 'died' a thousand times, but this.. this is different]

Oh.. god.. I didn't even think.. I'm so sorry, Loki. What can I.. I mean, can I do anything for you?

[She has to ask, because the only thought going through her head was gathering him up and cuddling him, just like he was doing to the bear]

[ Being mortal now is only part of it. A considerable part, mind, and possibly the reason that started everything else, but only part. What he's truly afraid of, he cannot even speak about it.

He shakes his head, attempting a small smile towards her but it isn't nearly as convincing as he usually is with them. ]

It's alright. You've already done plenty for me, Carol, and I do truly appreciate it, as terrible as I am at expressing it.

What I want-- ... I'm afraid to ask for.

[ What would she think? ]

[Oh, that almost smile is practically killing her. She fists her hands, keeping them to herself as she looks up at him]

What, Loki? What is it?

[What could he possibly want that he was afraid to ask for? Maybe a pony instead of a bear? She couldn't really fathom, since his mind had been strange when he'd been a god; she couldn't imagine what it was like in there now]

[ A pony ... oh, if only.

For a long moment, Loki just looks at her, contemplating and fearing all at once. He wonders if there's anything else he could say here that would bring a lighter mood to the conversation and he could keep this all bottled up forever-- well, for however long he had left. But she would not let him go so easily, he knows. She knows him too well. She would see him hide it away.

So he admits to it, to her only, and his voice is as small and quiet as a frightened mouse. ]

... I want to die.

[ He wonders if she'll take it as badly as Thor did. ]

You want to-- no.

[She shakes her head, looking up at him with fear on her face]

No, Loki. You're not.. You can't. I won't let you, dammit. I'll fix this, I promise. Please. Give me some time..

[She's up on her knees, taking his hand and holding it gently, pleading at him with her eyes. Die? Loki? No. Like hell. She'd do what she had to. She'd do what she needed to keep that from happening]

Why? Why would you..?

[ It's strange. When she grasps his hand, he doesn't pull away at all. He even tightens his grip, with only a hint of a tremor, and he would have grasped her hand in both his own if one wasn't securely wrapped around his teddy bear. ]

It's ... what I told Thor, when he asked why I surrendered.

[ He recognizes that look in her eyes. His brother had the same look just before he let go and fell off the Bifrost so long ago. ]

I told him that I was tired of this. I was tired of everything. I still am. I kept fighting on for an end that never came, and I am too much of a coward to do it myself.

[ The burns around his wrists are revealed as his sleeves wrinkle and pull back, his voice still quiet but now taking on a somewhat hysterical tone. ]

Then they presented me with this. I thought ... it would be a less frightening way to go. But now-- now it's terrifying me more than anything.

Loki, sweetie, please. I'll fix this. I'll make you better again. Please don't give up. I can't lose you again..

[And it was the truth. They'd be burying her the day after they did him, whether her body and mind just gave out or she did it herself. She'd lost him once and it had almost broken her. To have him show up on her doorstep, needing her, that had been the first sign of life she'd shown.

If he left, it would be the last]

We'll find a way. If they can manage to brand you and take your powers, we can find a way to undo it. We will find a way to undo it. I swear..

[ There it is again. Loki almost wants to ask her to call him that again, but he stops himself, so he can listen.

She wants to fix this. Fix him, put back together what's been broken. But he's afraid of that as well, and he wants to tell her no, that they can't do that either. He knows the temptation to misuse his power, to get back at those who had sealed him, would be too great. He knew that S.H.I.E.L.D would simply find him and cage him again, and he would be dealt a stricter punishment. And how could the burns be removed? Peeling back his skin layer by layer? ]

I don't know if there is a way ...

[ He curls in futher, holding her hand tight just as the tears start to fall. ] But even if there is, what would happen then?

No.. don't do that..

[She's lifting her other hand, brushing his tears away. So much for not touching him. She's sitting up higher, wanting to pull him in, to cradle him against her and tell him it'll all be all right. That everything will be perfect.. but she's so unsure around him now.

Even like this]

There is, dammit. And I'll find it. If magic can put the damn things on, magic can take them off.

[If she had to break a few rules to do it... maybe that would be for the best]

Besides, I have to be able to return you to normal so I can knock you on your ass for even thinking of dying, Loki.

[ Her hands are so curiously soft. The one he holds in his own like a lifeline, and the one now pressed softly against his cheek to catch his offending tears. She told him not to do it, and yet now that they've started he can't stop them.

She makes sense, too. Loki doesn't remember how they were applied, being unconscious for part of it and delusional for the rest. But if it was magic, then surely there would be a spell out there that would make them disappear without skinning him alive. How has he not heard of this spell before, in all his research?

And for some reason, the way she finishes only encourages the tears. He probably looks absolutely pathetic. Knocked flat for even thinking of it? Loki's thought about it every day since his fall to Midgard. Did that count?

Pitiful, he thinks, as the tears fall and he absently reaches for her other hand, holding it against his cheek. He's not sure what to say, lost and doubtful as he is, but an accursed half hiccup sound does escape him. ]

Sweetie..

[She's moving forward, kissing his forehead and pressing his head to her shoulder, smoothing her hand over his hair]

Please don't cry. You're breaking my heart.

[Loki didn't cry. Loki made you cry. This hurt her, more than she thought possible. This being, so vibrant with life, suddenly cringing and timid. Her rage against the Avengers grew with each tear.

She laid another kiss on top of his head, smoothing a hand down to rub small circles on his back]

We'll fix this. I promise.

[ The welling pit of anxiety and fear in his stomach was gradually ebbing, with every touch closer she made. The way she called him that, the way she stroked his hair, the way she held him close and didn't berate him for being a crying child.

He vaguely recalls his mother then, during times when he was that crying child after other children of Asgard had bullied him, and he'd run to her, and she'd stroked his hair in the same manner as he rested his head in her lap. He wonders if that meant she truly cared about him, and why he hadn't taken the time to recognize it now.

As she brought him close, he's not sure how, but one hand slid around to her back, and he held on as he let it out. Not in loud sobs or heavy cries, he had some dignity left in him. Just soft, subtle sniffles and the occasional tremble amidst the tears, but nothing more. He just needed this, for another minute or two. She promised to fix him.

Of course, now he was tired. He doesn't pull back, but he does mutter softly ... ]

Promise.

[That small, soft request after the shivering and sniffling just about did break her heart. She nodded, shushing him and continuing to stroke his hair]

With every breath in my body, love.

[She continued to rub over his back, holding him as long as he'd let her. It helped her as much as it did him. She could do this, at least. For now. And then she'd find a way to fix him for good]