\\==V==//
The relief that Loki felt as he stepped through yet another of Miss America's portals into the familiar halls of Asgardia was all too fleeting, replaced by dread as he realised the place was lifeless, without even birdsong to be heard. It was funny -- both in an odd way and a humourous one -- that he'd felt relief in the first place. Even if it had turned out to be their home dimension, he had no reason to be glad to be in his own Asgardia. Even after his other self had saved everyone in it, there were only three people in Asgardia who showed him any affection -- Thor, Freyja, and the all-loving Gaea -- and he only really cared for one of the two ladies in return.
Liar.
Loki just barely remembered to keep his reaction to the ghost of his previous self -- or rather, the manifestation of his guilty conscience -- internalised. Figuring that the spectre meant he didn't care about Freyja, Loki insisted, Believe it or not, I am capable of feeling love for others beside myself.
Exactly!
Loki ignored the cryptic delusion, focusing instead on his surroundings. Despite his momentary admittance, he assured himself (his actual self, not the ghost) that he was only worried about this Asgardia's seeming-desertion because it might mean he was currently in danger, and not because he was worried about the city's inhabitants, or even the safety of his companions.
Liar! The spectre repeated.
"Is this our dimension?" Teddy asked, blessedly distracting Loki from the thoughts in his head.
"No," Loki replied, pointing to a figure he'd just spotted laying on the ground a ways off, its skeletal face turned towards them. He'd known a few seconds after their arrival that this was not their own Earth, being able to sense the difference magically, but visual proof was likely more convincing to the Midgardians than his word. "Asgardia was still inhabited before we left our dimension a few days ago, and no one would have just left a body sitting there long enough for the flesh to be cleaned off. That suggests that everyone in this Asgardia is either dead or gone -- which is good news for us."
"Why? Because there's no one here who wants you dead?" Annoying Alleyne asked.
"Besides you lot, you mean? Yes, certainly a perk," Loki replied dryly, "But I mean that, with no enemies remaining, whatever killed this poor fellow is likely long gone as well. That suggests that we've actually found a safe place to hole up and rest a bit."
"Can we afford to stop?" Billy asked with his perpetual radiation of worry. "We might lose the Patri-Not!"
"I don't think we can afford not to stop," Kate countered. "If the next place we drop into is an enemy's lap, I'm not sure we'd survive the encounter, tired as we are!"
"I'm pretty sure we wouldn't," Loki concurred, and was pleased to find everyone, even Billy, nodding. "Now, let's see if we can find something edible. If the layout here is the same as back home, we're not far from the throne room. We can take the servants' stairway down to the kitchens from there." And without waiting, he led the way.
If he had another reason for being impatient to get to the throne room, he wouldn't allow himself to contemplate it.
In fact, he regretted his choice of destination the moment they arrived. Familiar armour granted identities to the skeletons lying about the room. Death had obviously come swiftly -- and without combat. There were no bloodstains, and everyone looked as though they had just fallen asleep where they stood and never awoken. His people would be horrified by such a demise.
Your people? Why do you even care?
Loki would have protested that he didn't, he was just making an observation, but he was too busy trying to fight down the lump that had inexplicably formed in his throat when he'd realised one of the bodies on the steps leading up to the dais was Thor's.
He was almost comforted by the fact that it was the body sitting on the throne, with a sigil just like his own and horns like a pair he'd once worn, that actually succeeded in making tears fall from his eyes.
I guess Loki really does care more for himself than anyone. Oh,wait! You still killed me, his ghostly alter remarked. I was you as much as this one was -- moreso, even. So does that mean you hate yourself as well?
We were in competition, you and I. And weren't you the one who suggested that the reason you exist now at all was because I feel guilt over your death? Loki returned, trying to unbalance the spectre (even if it was really himself he'd be unbalancing, rather than a ghost). Make up your mind. Besides, I seem to recall shedding a tear or two after you died.
What, when you said damn everyone, including yourself? Those tears were about you.
And you. I damned myself because I killed you.
Exactly! Even if you did lament me at all, you cried mostly because you realised then that you were someone who could kill, and because you were -- are -- still someone who finds it necessary to do whatever it takes to meet his goals. Someone who still has those kinds of goals. Come to think of it, how is it that you are the God of Chaos and yet no matter what you do, you're still predictable? Still a failure everywhere you go? You weep for this one--the ghost pointed to the throne--not just because he's you, but also because he's yet more proof that you can never win. He even became the King of Asgardia, and still lost it all.
What is your point? Loki asked, weary of the ghost's convolutions. Do I love myself or don't I?
Why are you looking for an either / or? Why look for a point at all? I am only the manifestation of your chaotic thoughts, am I not? But I will say this: I am a Loki, and I hate Ikol. But you aren't just Ikol -- you are something new, like I was. You said it yourself, that when you stepped into me, I stepped into you as well. A smoothie, once made, is never its disparate parts again.
Before Loki could respond, he heard the others moving in behind him, gasping and murmuring to themselves. He kept his back to them, trying hard to fight down his ridiculous grief, but it seemed to just get harder and harder to do so, tears like rain on his face after he looked towards Thor's remains again, alongside Sif's.
So this is your doing! Loki complained to the ghost. He'd seen his younger self weep over his idiot brother's death (and a ridiculous quantity of other happenstances), and now that they were merged, this sadness about Thor (of all people!), much less the rest of the Asgardians, had to be coming from that part of him.
I know they call us Loki the Lie-Smith, but it's amazing how much you lie to yourself, the ghost retorted.
Loki would have argued, but at that point he turned his entire focus to the combating the increasingly overwhelming sadness. His throat was in agony, as if he'd swallowed Mjolnir. He held his breath to stifle his sobs, but his shoulders began to shake with the effort. And the tears still flowed -- between the copious amount of saltwater and the lack of air, he might as well have been drowning! And so you get your wish for my death, he thought at the ghost, a laugh breaking through.
Whoever said that that was what I wanted? the ghost asked.
"Chico, how can you laugh?" came America's disgust over his shoulder. "These might not have been your people, but they obviously mattered to this dimension's Loki!"
He whirled on her, his rage just as inexplicable to him as his grief. Didn't he himself feel he should be laughing, gleeful at least about the death of Thor, and probably also at the deaths of the many who had mocked Loki throughout his life? (He couldn't even begin to entertain the possibility that this Loki had loved Thor and the Asgardians.) Yet the accusation that he was laughing when he was actually mourning -- even if he didn't want to be mourning -- rankled him.
Let me at least be accused of what I've actually done! "Do these look like tears of joy to you, Chavez?" he snapped, pointing at his face. "People laugh sometimes when they're upset!"
His rage quickly dissipated as he took in the shocked and pitying expressions of his companions. Some small part of him was appreciative; a larger part was scornful of their pity, their weakness; the bulk of him squirmed under the scrutiny, ashamed of his own outburst, how his own weakness was written in streaks down his face.
Suddenly and oddly calm, the waterworks halted as abruptly as they had started, he chuckled mirthlessly, turning away. "You're right. Loki does not empathise with anyone." Not even himself. "Any tears he sheds are lies. Now come on. The stair to the kitchens is this way."
"Loki--"
"Shut it, Mr Kaplan," Loki warned as he went, though he was too drained to muster much heat to his words. "I've been Obi-Wan Kenobi to you until now -- don't make me bust out Mr Miyagi or Master Splinter."
"Loki!" It was Kate this time.
Loki sighed dramatically and turned back, with no need to affect weariness -- he had it in spades at the moment. "Ms Bishop, will talking about my 'feelings'--" he added derisive air-quotes to drive his point home "--see us fed and rested -- and subsequently, Mr Kaplan's brother rescued -- any faster? Or even better, raise the dead here?"
Her lips only tightened in reply.
"I thought not," he replied as he resumed his path, refusing to acknowledge the strange disappointment he felt at her lack of argument -- and pointedly ignoring the ongoing and frequently cryptic taunts of the ghost-delusion in his head.
} >>-----> @
Unsurprisingly, the only still-edible foods in the kitchen were some things that had been pickled or dried, and some mushrooms that had been growing in the cellar. Loki hadn't spoken a word since his outburst in the throne room, not even to snark at David when the guy asked if the mushrooms were actually safe to eat. Kate supposed they must be, since Loki had started eating them without hesitation.
Then again, if Loki had gone mad or become suicidal after the scene in the throne room, perhaps this was yet another thing they couldn't trust him on.
Kate's stomach decided that to not trust the guy in this instance was ridiculously paranoid (she'd probably been spending too much time with Clint), and so she dug in, inwardly lamenting the lack of other ingredients for a pizza.
"Loki, about upstairs ...." she began once her rumbling stomach had quieted some. Clint had told her the story Thor had told him about Loki's return, and how the boy had helped save Asgard -- twice. Not to mention how Loki had saved her and their companions time and again this journey. And they were stuck together until they sorted the Mother problem. So it seemed to her that being friendly to him was both the wise (for their own safety's sake) and decent thing to do. And friends comforted each other.
And even if they weren't friends, she didn't like to see anyone in pain.
But Loki was having none of it. "Ms Bishop, it's in your best interest to see me fed as much as possible, so that I'm at the top of my game -- or at least as close to the top as this meager repast will allow. In the interest of that, please don't make me lose my appetite by bringing that up again," he requested tiredly.
"... All right. But if you change your mind--"
"I won't," he said firmly. Then, with the faintest of smiles, he added, "... but if I did, I'd know where to find you."
She nodded once. At least she'd made the offer, right? But she would keep an eye on him, even as she respected his wishes -- for the moment.
"We should sleep in the healing room," Loki suggested a short while later, brushing his hands together and rising to his feet.
"Would it still work without anyone having been around to maintain it in a while?" Billy wondered.
"Of course!" Loki replied a little too cheerfully. "There's nothing to actually be maintained! A healing room is simply made of stones that emit energy that accelerates the healing process."
"Emit energy? Like radiation?" David asked warily.
"Very much so -- except, you know, not lethal," Loki explained, rolling his eyes. "Hence the 'healing' part of the name."
The room in question had a golden glow about it, and Kate found she started feeling better before she even passed the threshold. She noted her companions standing taller, eyes brighter -- even Billy (who was stressed over Tommy), America (who was getting worn out by all the portal-making, Kate suspected), and Loki (who had been looking weary even before their recent findings, thanks to his efforts tracking the Patri-Not). That wasn't to say that they weren't all still bone-tired, though, most of them out like lights within minutes of coming into the room. Snuggling into an already-snoring Noh-Varr's arms, Kate suspected she was the last to fall asleep, and it didn't take long for her to join them ....
\\==V==//
As a boy, Loki had lived a few years with his biological parents before his future self had come back in time and unfolded a plan that involved the young Loki becoming adopted by Odin. There was, in his experience, no such thing as love amongst male Jotuns, and possibly not amongst the females. It was every giant for himself, and so it was something of a miracle that Loki had survived that period of his life at all, what with the daily beatings from his father (and sometimes other giants). Loki supposed his mother might have born some feelings for him that every other species of mother might relate to, but if so, they weren't even remotely enough to prompt her to shield her son from harm. Loki only learned about bitterness, anger, and hatred in those days -- and to care for himself because no one else would.
So, shortly after Loki was brought into Asgard, when the small Jotun boy first witnessed the affection between Thor and his parents and amongst Thor's friends, Loki ached with jealousy. He'd had no idea that such warm and happy feelings existed. He didn't fully grasp it, this way of finding joy that didn't stem from the hurt of others, but he knew he wanted to know whatever it was like first-hand, rather than just witness it. The Jotun part of him didn't trust it, though, even saw it as weakness -- something that he might exploit. Still, some part of him had wanted Thor's love when it had been offered, regardless of the orders the elder Loki had given him. He just hadn't known how to accept it -- or return it. He could emulate it, but mimicry was not understanding.
And then that first time Thor had joined his friends in mocking Loki, reminding the young Jotun of the endless tormenting he'd suffered in the presence of his own people, Loki found he could no longer trust his new brother's love anyway. Had it ever been real? Or was it some game -- an offered treat that was then yanked away, to the torment of the wishful receiver and the cruel delight of the false giver? Any hesitancy Loki might have felt about using or hurting Thor had then evaporated. Hurt others before they hurt you -- that was the Jotun way. And if they hurt you first, hit twice as hard back.
And yet ....
Frigga (who was now Freyja -- Loki sensed something of her story had been rewritten), with much effort and patience on her part, eventually taught him love. When others dared to mock him in her presence, she fought for Loki as his real mother never had. She never showed favouritism to Thor. She taught Loki magic, which he quickly discovered he had a talent for. She praised him, showed him affection. Thor's "love" came in the shape of roughhousing, which seemed only a breath away from actual battle; Frigga's touch was a gentle, warm, soothing balm to the hurts of body and soul alike.
Things were not always bad with Thor, though. As time passed, there had been moments in Loki's childhood when he had found himself laughing and having fun with Thor despite himself. Moments when the slights of those early days faded, at least for a while. Moments when he'd forgotten what it was to be a Jotun. Where he felt like he had always been Asgardian. Felt camaraderie with his brother and even the rest of his adopted people.
Loki dreamed now of those moments, of happy times with Thor and Frigga, and even Sif and the Warriors Three, even Odin. And when the dreams grew dark, it wasn't because he was dreaming of everyone turning on him, or even of himself turning on them. It was because they suddenly collapsed before him, their bodies putrefying with impossible speed, with him powerless to stop the loss of these people that he, at least in the dream, cared about. Then he looked down at his body and saw his own end, knowing with a heavy heart that he had failed his people. Never mind that, in waking life, he'd brought about Ragnarok, and then, later, made Asgard fall to Midgard; in this dream, despite the deaths of everyone not even actually being his doing (and therefore not his fault), the fact that he couldn't prevent them filled him with a sense of loss the likes of which he'd never known.
He was awakened by his own sob, curling his knees against his chest in a fetal position as he wept again, harder than before. Sorrow was a deep ache in every part of him, like from a vast and open wound -- a sort the healing room could do nothing for, but his tears were trying to fill.
Part of the grief came, he knew, from the spirit of this world's Loki. All Lokis were at least nominally connected -- and so, Loki occasionally had trouble telling which memories and feelings were his and which belonged to another. But part of the grief came from himself, contemplating the fact that this Loki had seemed to have figured it all out -- how to love and be loved and gain the respect of his people -- only to lose it all anyway. In the end, Loki grieved for this world's Loki and all Lokis -- and out of envy for what this world's Loki had but he'd failed to achieve himself.
Such is the price of love, he thought to himself bitterly. You were either betrayed or they died -- either way, your heart was shattered. Perhaps it was better that he hadn't done much loving in his life.
And yet, here you've gone and you put together another Avenger's team, the ghost remarked. I get the feeling that the first time, it was a matter of being lonely and bored and wanting friends but only knowing how to be an enemy. At least this time you seem to be learning how to be a friend -- although doubtless you'll betray them eventually. You'll screw up a good thing, like you always do.
Shut it! Loki didn't have the strength of will for more of a protest -- especially since the ghost was at least somewhat right.
Aren't I just a construct in your head? A product of a guilty conscience? If you want me to shut up, stop doing things that prompt you to berate yourself!
And then the ghost was blessedly quiet.
And still Loki wept.
} >>-----> @
Kate had no idea how long she had been asleep when she woke up. The world seemed to hum pleasantly, and she just enjoyed the peace for a long moment -- until another sound scraped at her awareness. A few seconds more, and she was awake enough to recognise the sound as muffled crying, as one made when one was trying to hide that one was crying at all. She expected to find it coming from Billy, but as she followed the sound, it led her to where Loki huddled on a padded bench, markedly away from everyone else. His back to them, his circlet and cowl were off, with his hair a sweaty mess; he looked even younger this way.
She'd had enough. Seeing the boy like that tugged at something in her, something she couldn't ignore any longer. You didn't leave a child, even a teenager (as Loki seemed to be), crying and not do something for them.
She sat beside his head, and the sounds suddenly stopped, though his shoulders still twitched.
"It won't do us any good if you suffocate from holding your breath until I leave," she gently chided.
He exhaled. "Then do us all a favour and leave me be right now!"
"Not gonna happen. We're not Asgardians, Loki -- in this group, we don't see tears as a weakness. In fact, letting us see you cry would confirm that you have a heart -- and let's face it, you could use all the good PR you can get!"
Despite his youth, he sat up like an old, arthritic man. Then he scrubbed at his face, pointlessly removing evidence of what she already knew he'd been doing. She couldn't keep the smirk from her face, not even when he finally looked her way, his eyes red but a bemused expression on his own face. He laughed quietly, and she laughed with him. It only lasted a few seconds, though, before his face crumpled and he turned away.
She reached an arm around him, and felt him tense. It occurred to her that Loki probably hadn't known much in the way of affection, probably had been hit far more than hugged growing up (at least the first time, and she suspected he wasn't well-loved by many aside from Thor these days), and was probably touch-starved. She yanked him close, so that his face rest partially against her shoulder, and carded the fingers of her other hand into his hair, resting her cheek against the crown of his head. She rubbed his shoulder with one hand and the back of his neck with the other, gently rocking. He was taught as a bowstring at first, and still shaking with half-stifled sobs.
It was impossible to believe that this small, broken teen had once been one of the greatest villains the Avengers had ever faced -- or that he had, since his rebirth, saved the world a few times.
As minutes went on, the sobs quieted, his breathing evening and his frame softening in her arms, until she knew he was asleep. As she gently slipped aside and laid him back down, Noh-Varr came up and helped by lifting Loki's feet back onto the bench.
As she brushed a damp lock of hair from Loki's face, Kate refused to dwell on how she felt like she and Noh-Varr were parents tucking in their child. Loki killed the illusion anyway, an all-too adult expression of unhappiness on his sleeping face despite her efforts.
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and found it was Billy and Teddy, carrying a wider version of the bench, more bed-like, and setting it down against the bench.
"We need to stick together," Teddy explained as he and Billy settled themselves on it.
Kate looked inquiringly to Noh-Varr, who shrugged with a smile. Together, they moved the bench they'd shared to the other side of Loki's.
America had woken at some point, and Kate was surprised to find the girl dragging her own bench over to the head of Loki's. "He's less likely to kill you all in your sleep if I'm over here too," the girl explained.
Kate turned away and smirked at her boyfriend.
David showed no sign of stirring. Kate wasn't sure if he was still asleep or just ignoring them. She understood that there was no love or even civility lost between the ex-mutant and the demigod, but if he was awake, she hoped David didn't feel excluded, like they were choosing Loki over him. When it came down to it, the man could join them ... but if he was asleep, how would he feel when he woke up and saw them all huddled together?
Deciding there wasn't a point in worrying about something she couldn't fix, Kate lay down facing Loki, taking one of his hands in one of hers, and smiled when his sleeping features softened. As Noh-Varr's arms slipped around her again, from behind, she drifted back to sleep.
\\==V==//
Upon waking again, the last thing Loki remembered was the feel of a hand upon his neck, how soothing it had been, and he lamented the loss of it. His eyes still closed, he quickly noted that there were fingers entwined with his own, and for a moment he thought he was asleep in Frigga's bed after a nightmare. The realisation that it had been hundreds of years since he'd done such a thing jarred his eyes open, and he discovered Kate before him, sound asleep, her hand in his.
Loki couldn't remember the last time he felt such warmth towards someone (aside from the memories his murdered child-self bore), much less such gratitude. When was the last time someone had shown him -- him, not his child-self -- such kindness?
He was further astonished, upon propping himself up with his free hand, to find the rest of the team gathered about him. Waking with America near his head was like waking by the jaws of a tigress, but hope flared that she might be coming to tolerate him (and therefore might be less threatening). Even David was fairly close by, resting on the far side of Teddy, Billy being between Teddy and Loki.
Was the ghost right? Had he gathered this team in part, however small, because he was lonely? Even if it wasn't intentional, had he succeeded in ... making friends?
"Feeling better?" Kate murmured.
"Yes," Loki admitted, smiling wanly. "I don't feel like my eyes have a direct pipeline to Niagara Falls anymore. Thank you, by the way. For, uh, last night."
She smiled and squeezed his hand, then let him go and sat up, stretching.
Loki picked up his cowl and began to slip it on -- until he got a whiff of the cloth. He glowered at the offending material, crinkling his nose. "I'm going to go find my other self's chambers and take a bath, then try to wash my clothes," he decided. His or Billy's powers could probably take care of such things, but under the circumstances, Loki figured it would be best to conserve their strength.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea, splitting up," Kate said, biting her lip. "If it turns out that the Patri-Not is still here, or some other monster pops in, we may have to skedaddle real quick, and I'd rather we didn't end up leaving anyone behind. Is there a pool or something we can all wash up in?"
"There should be," Loki reluctantly confirmed. Using it would be all right, he supposed, if he just stayed in the shallow end ....
And so, a little while later, he found himself leading the team to an indoor grotto where the Asgardians had liked to relax. (Well, he'd first led the team to the wing where the royal chambers were; there, they'd scrounged around for soaps, towels, spare clothes for while their own clothes dried, and things that could act as suitable swimwear. It felt strange, rifling through his late alter-self's things, noting what was similar and what differed ....)
Everyone found a spot to change; Loki was reluctant to leave his spot while in such a state of undress, now only in smallclothes. He then remembered a Midgardian song about a girl with an "itsy-bitsy" bikini and her reluctance to come out of hiding in it, and decided not to invite his companions to make a comparison, consciously or otherwise -- especially as that wasn't even his biggest concern about being at the pool. Soap and laundry in hand, he hurriedly made his way over to the water, plunking himself down on the steps leading into it so that the water was up to his neck, grateful that the pool was warm (it was enchanted to stay so, and to stay clean). He didn't look up when Kate sat beside him, instead focusing on scrubbing his tunic.
"It's occurred to me that you didn't get in the water with us when we went to the beach that one time," Kate remarked.
Loki only shrugged, hoping she would drop it. Noh-Varr obliged him by splashing her, enticing her into a water fight, which the others soon joined in. That was fine by Loki, so long as they left him out of it.
Of course they didn't.
He got out and wrung his clothes, then laid them out to dry. Just as he finished, America made her move. The next thing he knew, he was being lofted into the air. She moved too fast for him to do much more than cry "No!" before she tossed him, with her super-strength, all the way out into the deep end.
Loki had never learned to swim.
It was an act much like America's that had kept him from ever learning. Centuries ago, Volstagg, thinking he was doing Loki a favour, insisted that the best way for someone to learn to swim was by doing, and had tossed Loki off a dock, into the ocean. Jotuns being a bit denser than already-heavier-than-humans-Asgardians, and no one explaining to Loki how inhaling helped one to float or how to use his hand and feet to propel himself, Loki sank like a stone. In his terror as the water closed over his head, finding the surface beyond his grasp, Loki's icy nature had involuntarily kicked in, and froze the water above him, so he couldn't surface. Odin had rescued him, but others had been momentarily caught by the icy sheet, and were none too pleased with the child, some even believing he had done it on purpose. Their anger coupled with his own terror had convinced Loki to never go into water above his neck after that (and even that filled him with trepidation, but it was either go in partway or admit his fear).
History repeated itself now.
Thrusting upwards from the pool-bottom and kicking fiercely, he managed to get to the surface this time, since the water was only sseven feet deep, but the surface had iced over, thick enough that he couldn't break it with his fists. Terror-stricken and quickly running out of air (especially after having been screaming on the way in), he fainted after mere seconds in the water, darkness claiming him before it could even occur to him to use magic ....
} >>-----> @
Kate tried to stop America, but it was too late; by the time she got out the words "I don't think he can swim!", Loki was already in flight and about to hit the water.
Still, America did hear her. "Crap!" the girl swore, leaping after -- only to hit ice. She, like everyone else, stared in confused astonishment for a long moment. Then she started pummeling the frozen surface, quickly cracking it enough to reach in and grab Loki. "Wasn't planning on ice fishing today, chico!" she complained as she got him to the poolside and set him down with surprising gentleness.
Kate hurried over, expecting to do CPR, but America had (to Kate's surprise) already started. After a tense minute or so, Loki was rolling onto his side and coughing up water.
"I'm sorry, chico -- I didn't realise you couldn't swim!" America told him, hesitantly reaching out.
He scrambled away from her, shaking his head and still coughing, eyes wide and furious. "You hate me! Want me dead!" he croaked accusingly. Kate had never seen him so angry -- or scared.
Kate grabbed a towel and, kneeling beside him, wrapped it around him, holding him tight, much like the night before. He shivered, and she wasn't sure how much of it was from cold and how much from fear.
"Loki, it's not what you think," she told him, rubbing his shoulders. "America really didn't know you can't swim, and she saved you when I told her you couldn't."
"It was my fault!" Noh-Varr weighed in. "Tossing people into pools is an Earth tradition, as I understand it, so I did it to Kate first. Then everyone took turns, until you were the only one left who hadn't been thrown."
"And I just figured that if I had to play, so should you," America confessed, eyes downcast. Her chagrined expression looked extremely out of place on the proud young woman. "I really am sorry."
Loki didn't seem convinced by the apology, but while his eyes remained, warily, on America, he asked, "How did you know, Kate? That I can't swim?"
"Well, I didn't know, but you didn't join us that day at the beach, just watched from pretty far inland. And then you didn't go out into the water today, just stayed on the steps ...."
He met her eyes then, a look of understanding in his own. "You were even going to ask me about it, before you got ... distracted," he mused, glancing at Noh-Varr with that last.
"Yeah," Kate admitted, blushing.
"So ... what was with the ice?" Teddy asked.
"Well, I am a frost giant," Loki reminded him. "I mean ... you know that this human-looking face is not the one I was born with, right?" Looking pensive, eyes to the ground, Loki showed them his true appearance, skin turning blue, hair disappearing, and horns sprouting from his head. He quickly shifted back into the face they knew him by, still averting his eyes -- doubtless so that he wouldn't see the reactions he probably feared he would. Glancing about, she saw that he needn't have worried: their expressions varied from ambivalence to interest to wonder, but no one looked disgusted.
"Granted, wearing this face has become almost as natural as breathing most of the time," he went on, "so I usually don't even have to think about it. But when sufficiently threatened, my original nature can come to the fore, if I don't manage to keep it in check. That's why I cover myself thoroughly from head to toe so often -- to reduce the risk of accidentally frost-burning someone if I forget myself."
And so there was yet another reason for him to potentially feel distanced from everyone else.
"In fact, you might not want to get too close, Kate, until I get some real clothes on," Loki added, half-looking at her and pulling away.
She tightened her grip on him, yanking him close. "You're fine. I trust you." She kissed his temple. "See? All good."
He stared at her, mouth moving but proving speechless. He seemed like he might cry again, this time out of sentiment.
"You worry too much!" Noh-Varr told him, ruffling Loki's hair. Kate thought Loki might get annoyed by the treatment, but the boy was grinning. His cheeks stayed dry, but his eyes glittered.
" You know ... you don't need to hide yourself with us ...." Billy weighed in.
Loki's grin turned rueful. "Well, truth be told, while I might have, in part, chosen this look once upon a time to fit in with the people of Asgard, I'm not doing it for you guys now. I mean, it wouldn't exactly be convenient for me if I accidentally frost-burned you, for one. And getting around the streets would be unpleasant if people constantly stared at me, much less turned aggressive because I look like some blue demon. But the main thing is that I don't want to be a Jotun -- they're horrid -- so I changed myself into who I wanted to be." He suddenly grew thoughtful at that, as if he'd just realised something.
Before Kate could decide whether to ask him what he was thinking, David spoke up.
"If we're done kumbaya-ing, can we get some grub? I'm starving!"
"For once, I am in full agreement with Mr Alleyne," Loki replied.
"Just so long as it's not actual grubs, as in insect larvae," Teddy said. "I think we cleaned out the kitchen of anything edible."
Loki snapped his fingers. "I know of a place that might still have food!"
\\==V==//
After they had quickly washed their own clothes and laid them out to dry, then changed into the dry clothes they'd scrounged up, Loki led his companions to the home of Volstagg. When they'd started that journey, he'd been in surprisingly high spirits, feeling rather fond of his companions. His elation quickly faded, though, as they passed the late citizens of Asgardia. He averted his eyes from his teen companions, not wanting to see the pity they were surely aiming his way. The last thing he needed was for his eyes to begin their Niagara impression again!
When they reached the cottage of Volstagg, his hand hovering over the door handle, Loki realised something: he really didn't want to see the corpses of the man and his family!
Aye. He was a good friend .... the ghost said wistfully.
To you, maybe. But in any case, I'm not a total monster, and I've had my fill of corpse-spotting today.
"It's okay. You can wait out here," Kate told him, laying a hand on his arm a moment before opening the door herself.
When she stopped short just inside the door, gasping and covering her mouth with both hands, only then did it occur to him that he hadn't explained what she might find. And really, if he, with his cold heart, couldn't bear the sight of all those children, what made him think she, with her compassionate one, could?
"Odin's beard, Kate, I'm sorry -- I didn't think!" he apologised, stepping in and reaching out.
Before he reached her, she spun around and threw her arms around him in a crushing grip, burying her face in his shoulder. "There's so many of them!" she whispered.
"I ... I know," was all he could think to say, finally returning her embrace, careful not to look at anything but the immediate floor -- and trying not to enjoy the rare bit of contact, considering the reason for it.
"So many what?" America wanted to know, slipping past them. She turned back about as quickly as Kate had, looking sick.
"Well?" Billy prompted from his place outside, more concerned-sounding than impatient.
"They're kids. A bunch of 'em," America explained before hurrying outside.
"Come on, let's go," Loki said, guiding Kate out as well, somewhat reluctantly letting Noh-Varr take over comforting her.
"You guys go on ahead -- I'll catch up," Alleyne said, heading for the door of the cottage.
"No, David, just leave it," Kate insisted, grabbing his arm.
"We need to eat!" Alleyne insisted. "I'm sorry -- it is sad and everything, but if there is food in there, they don't need it anymore, and I doubt they would want us to starve unnecessarily."
"Volstagg would likely consider it a crime to starve," Loki agreed.
"And between the anthropology, archaeology, and forensic stuff in my head, I can compartmentalise enough to go in there without having a meltdown. No offense," Alleyne added quickly when he spotted America glaring at him.
Kate sighed and nodded, releasing Alleyne's arm.
They waited for him despite his assurance that he would meet them, Teddy pointing out that Alleyne could only carry so much. Alleyne had scoffed at first at the notion that there would be that much, but then the man disproved his own theory by carrying out one armful of goods after another -- including plates, utensils, and cups, and also things like bandages and soap.
"Volstagg was the sort to make sure he had a stockpile of food for in case of an emergency," Loki explained as he looked each jar over, checking for spoiled contents, "and considering his appetite and the size of his family, that would have to be a sizable larder of cured foods. Not just pickled stuff, but smoked meats, dried fruits, and grains, all of which have been well sealed against rot. The wheat won't do us much good without milk or eggs, of course, unless you fancy hardtack," he continued, tossing a jar of flour aside, "but oats are fine with just berries, and rice is edible enough on its own."
Out of the corner of his eye, Loki noted Noh-Varr making a face that said he didn't agree, and Kate stifling a giggle at her guy. If they didn't knock off being so cute, Loki was going to vomit -- but he found himself strangely unwilling to actually say anything about it.
And then Loki noticed the contents of Alleyne's latest load, taking one of them directly from the young man's grasp, swallowing back salivation.
"Oh, I'm almost tempted to bless you for this!" he told his rival as he gazed reverently on the label of the bottle he now held.
"I neither need nor want the blessings of Loki," Alleyne replied, setting off for another load.
"What is it?" Teddy wondered as he towered over Loki's shoulder.
"Wine from the vineyard of Dionysus himself. I dare say that there is no finer maker of wine in all the multiverse!" Loki gushed.
"I think you're forgetting that we're underage," Billy remarked.
"I think you're forgetting that I'm Asgardian, not American, and we're not in the US!" Loki retorted. (He decided it was better not to add that, despite his appearance, he was also well over 21.) "Therefore, US laws regarding drinking do not apply."
"Chico's got a point," the girl also known as America conceded, picking up another bottle and opening it. "When in Rome -- or Asgardia!" And she moved to swig it.
Loki grabbed her arm, immediately shrinking back under her glare, raising his hands in surrender. "You can't just guzzle it! Something so fine deserves to be savoured properly! Let it breathe!" he practically begged. "To mistreat a literal food of the gods is literally sacrilegious, don't you think?" he added, turning to Kate in the hopes she would back him up.
"He has a point," she agreed, not disappointing him. "If you don't trust him, trust me. Consider it a necessary part of the process -- you don't eat a cake before you've cooked it."
"Fine," America grumbled, letting Loki have the bottle.
He immediately arranged several cups on the ground and poured some into each. "Nobody touch those for at least fifteen minutes," he ordered. "And you, Teddy, keep your great, big, stompy feet away!' Loki took his wine consumption very seriously.
"I think that's enough," Billy said to Alleyne as the young man brought out yet another armful of goods, including more wine.
"No, I think we should clear the place out," Alleyne protested. "Why leave anything?"
"If you think I'm going to play pack-mule, you have another thing coming," Teddy grumbled, crossing his arms.
Loki managed to keep a straight face as he informed them, "Actually, I'm going to teach Billy how to make Hammerspace -- I think he's ready." He smiled genuinely at Billy -- the boy had come a long way, and Loki was proud. (It spoke well of his own efforts to teach the lad, after all!)
"You mean like a Bag of Holding??" the youth asked excitedly, face split with a wide smile of delight in exactly the way Loki expected, greatly amusing him.
"But without the bag!" Loki cheerfully confirmed.
Of course, making such was going to take a considerable amount of energy (a point which made Loki all the more glad that they had taken care of their hygiene manually), but in the long run it would be worth it -- not just because of the food, but because it would be great practice for Billy in controlling his world-shaping abilities.
Yes, what better way to learn to control them than by creating a new dimension entirely, where he's basically a god that inserts and removes denizens on his whim! the ghost concurred with copious sarcasm.
Exactly! Loki replied, in the same innocent tone the ghost had used when he'd said it the day before. And this will allow us to carry spare clothes, medical supplies, and potable water, as well. Go ahead, tell me having those items readily available is a bad thing.
Of course the ghost couldn't.
"Geek translation, please?" America requested, crossing her arms in annoyance. "What the heck is Hammerspace?"
"The personal space of MC Hammer?" Teddy quipped, grinning.
"Wrong, but I'm a bit impressed anyway," Loki smirked at Teddy. "Hammerspace is from a roleplaying game -- it refers to a pocket dimension in which one can store things. A Bag of Holding is a bag with more space inside it than it should have by outward appearances -- kind of like a TARDIS."
"And a TARDIS is ...?" America asked.
Loki sighed. "We really need to do something about your considerably lacking pop-culture repertoire."
"And about your inability to swim!" America returned with dangerously false sweetness.
Loki swallowed hard. "Never mind. Let's take a food break, and then Mr Kaplan and I will get to work on that pocket dimension ...."
After everyone had settled down with food and wine, and had time enough to eat some and relax into various conversations, Kate, sitting next to Loki, said quietly, "You know, learning to swim is probably be a good idea -- and the Volstagg and America Academy of Marine Activities isn't the only way to learn."
"I'm not sure there's any other school available for the likes of me," Loki replied dryly, the wine relaxing away any panic he might normally have felt at the proposition.
"Sure there is -- there's the Hawkeye "Everyone Can Swim" Initiative."
Loki was at a loss for words for all of two seconds. Then, "Please tell me you mean you would teach me, not your pal Barton."
Kate snorted. "Yes, I mean me. I wouldn't trust Clint to teach a goldfish to swim."
Loki grinned at her, then smiled thoughtfully, touched again by her kindness, then grew rueful. "I may very well take you up on that over when all this is over. I just hope you don't end up regretting it."
"So just don't do anything that would make me," she shrugged, sipping at the wine.
Loki almost wished he could promise her that he wouldn't.
You could, the ghost asserted.
"So, you ready to teach me more magic?" Billy asked, saving Loki from potentially unpleasant thoughts.
The rest of the team watched Loki work with Billy as if the pair were providing a dinner show; Loki supposed that, with their banter, they may as well have been. After an hour or so, they had a pocket dimension that not only Billy but also Loki and even America could tap into with their own powers. While Loki stressed that it wasn't wise to rely on a bag -- lose the bag, lose your pocket dimension -- he did teach Billy how to make bag-based access for the non-magically-inclined members of the team. He then taught everyone how to call the specific items they were looking for to them. After packing up everything Alleyne had gathered, they returned to the royal wing and healing room, scraping together more clothes and medical supplies, as well as weapons. The only thing left to do was change into their normal clothes, which were still drying, and they'd be ready to go.
Except that neither Loki nor America had picked up on the Patri-Not's trail yet.
} >>-----> @
They split up to search more effectively. Billy and Teddy formed one team (Loki having taught Billy to search for the trail), America and David another, with Kate and Noh-Varr accompanying Loki.
"I'll be sooo glad when our stuff is dry -- I keep tripping on these skirts," Kate mumbled.
"Well, they were Freyja's, and she was rather tall," Loki replied absently. "You could put on one of the other Loki's shirts, like I did."
Loki looked like he was wearing a knee-length dress, the shirt was so long on him, but Kate imagined one of Thor's shirts could have worked as a pup tent for both of them ....
"Not really a good place or time to change -- I'll just bear that in mind for next time." She hoped there wouldn't be a next time.
"You do look beautiful in that dress. But then, you always do," Noh-Varr told her.
"Awww!" Kate kissed him -- not that she needed an excuse. She was surprised, though, when Loki didn't tease them. She supposed he was too tired. "Loki, do you want to rest?"
"Thanks, but no," he sighed. "I want out of here, and that won't happen until we find that trail." He did pause, though, glancing about in frustrated despair and tugging on his unruly locks as if that might jog his brain into finding an answer.
Watching him, she suddenly came up with an answer of her own.
"Loki ...? What if the Patri-Not hasn't actually left yet? I mean, your tracking spell tracks his portals, right? So if he's still here, there wouldn't be one to find!"
Loki dropped his hand to his side and straightened, staring at her in shock. He then grabbed her by the arms and, pulling her down a bit as he stood on tip-toe, planted a kiss hard on her cheek. Stepping back, he beamed at her. "Noh-Varr is right: you are beautiful! With a big, beautiful brain!"
He then thrust one hand skyward, sending green sparks flying in their agreed-upon signal, and took off running, heading back to the pool area, where they'd all agreed to meet, Kate and Noh-Varr quickly catching up.
Teams Billy and America were already there, having changed to their original clothes. Everyone turned their backs so Team Loki could change while Loki explained Kate's theory. (Their clothes were still damp, but Kate was glad to be back in them nonetheless.)
"Do you guys hear that?" Noh-Varr asked when Loki had finished speaking.
Kate listened intently, and realised there was an intermittent rumble coming from the back of the room, behind the pool, where there was another entry. The Patri-Not came around the corner a moment later -- with a club-bearing Jotun close behind.
"AHH!" Loki cried out, backing up into Noh-Varr. "Not again!"
"There they are, just as I said!" the Patri-Not told the Jotun, waving at them. And then the Patri-Not jumped into the pool.
Kate had a sinking feeling that the faker had made a portal in the water and escaped.
First thing's first, she thought to herself, quickly snatching up her bow and drawing an arrow. She let loose, but while it hit her target -- the Jotun's eye -- it just bounced off, the giant having managed to shut the eye just before the arrow hit, his tough hide deflecting it.
She gulped.
"RUN!" Loki ordered, dashing past Noh-Varr and out the other entry, on their side of the room.
They followed.
"Come back here, son!" the Jotun called after them, the pounding of his massive feet almost drowning out the words. "I'm happy to see you -- thought you were dead! I just want to have dinner! Your friends can be appetisers!"
The Jotun was caught up a moment in the doorway, which was a tad small to him, but was free and gaining on them when they reached a corner. Fifty feet later, Loki suddenly stopped and opened a door that had practically been invisible -- a servants' passage, no doubt. "In here!" he ordered, dashing through it. Beyond was a stairway, one far too small for the Jotun to fit in. The Jotun's roars and the sound of him banging on the walls with the club faded as they followed the stairs up and up, high into what turned out to be a tower.
By the time they reached the top, Kate's legs were trembling with fatigue, and she was gasping. Loki was too, but she worried he was having a panic-attack, not just exhausted from the climb.
"If that monster's ... from the spell ... won't it just ... materialise up here?" Billy panted.
Loki shook his head. "Not from the spell. Doesn't work that way. Real deal -- from this dimension."
"So ... that was your dad?" Kate asked once she could breathe well enough.
"Well, not specifically mine, but yeah, for all intents and purposes. Put them side by side, and I probably couldn't tell the difference."
"Wait, you mean your dad trying to eat you back home wasn't just because of the spell?" Teddy asked, looking sick. "I though making parents murderous was part of how it worked!"
"So the spell didn't have to work hard in my regard. Well, okay, my real father never did get around to trying to eat me when he was still alive, but it was only because I was too small to be worth the effort. He still hated my existence because it suggested there was something wrong with him, that he produced such a small child. He walloped me at least once a day to remind me of what a disappointment I was."
"How small were you?" Noh-Varr asked, frowning.
Loki shrugged, picking up a piece of straw from the floor and breaking it into tiny pieces as he spoke. "I've always been human-sized. I was the equivalent of a human five- or six-year-old when Odin slew my birth-father and took me in. And I can't really recall a day with my birth-father that didn't include him hitting me at some point. Is it any wonder that I don't want to be seen as a Jotun? I don't want to be seen as some bloodthirsty, brainless brute!" He threw the last piece of straw for emphasis, then crossed his arms over his knees and lay his head on them.
Had anyone ever thought to ask Loki about his life, Kate wondered? The more she learned, and the more time she spent with him, the harder it seemed to imagine anyone not turning out as he did, and the more miraculous it seemed that he hadn't turned out worse.
"What is this place?" David asked, looking about.
It looked like a much-neglected prison, empty save for straw and chains and books and birds -- as well as a couple of out-of-reach torches, which Loki had lit by magic. The room's only two windows were small, barred, glassless, and even higher up than the torches. Rapunzel or the girl from Rumplestiltskin might have called the room home.
"Odin used to put my brothers and me in here when we misbehaved," Loki replied. "Little did he know I would come to use it as a sort of sanctuary. It's become my bedroom, in fact! Well, after I rediscovered it, it did. It's nicer than the barn where Thor keeps his goats, at least, which is where I was first staying after my resurrection."
"You were sleeping in a barn?" Billy asked, incredulous.
She couldn't blame him; Loki seemed so fastidious to be staying in such dingy places. Loki only shrugged again.
"But why use the barn or this tower instead of your real room?" she asked.
"My real room? Oh, you mean in the royal wing! Yes, well, remember that the Loki of this dimension was on what seems to be better terms with his people than I am with mine. That same room in our world hasn't been mine for a goodly while. I mean, being where everyone who hates you knows where to find you isn't what I'd call safe, you know? At least half the guards in Asgardia want me dead themselves; while they won't actually hurt me thanks to Thor, they're certainly not going to protect me!"
It occurred to Kate then that, while perhaps they'd had no choice in going through the door at the base of the tower, Loki hadn't needed to divulge the full nature of the room to them -- that he must trust them, maybe even like them ....
"So there's nothing about this tower that will help us," David mused. "Not a second way out -- unless Teddy breaks the wall and flies us down a couple at a time?"
"I could do that!"
"No, you couldn't. The walls are magically reinforced," Loki revealed. "Even Stark weaponry had a hell of a time bringing them down. Besides, my father may have returned to the pool, figuring we'd come back there. We need a way to bring him down ...."
"Or just get him out of the way," America pointed out.
"That's true!" Loki agreed, brightening. "We just need to lure him into a trap!"
"How would we trap something so big?" Noh-Varr asked.
"We can use a portal. Get him over just the right spot, and I'll break open a door to that place with the rabbits."
Everyone shuddered.
"So you agree to be the bait, chico?" America asked Loki, a wicked gleam in her eye.
Loki paled. "S-suddenly, I don't like this plan."
"Can you make an illusion for him to follow instead?" Kate suggested.
Loki shook his head. "Jotuns like him rely on smell more than sight. He might be fooled for a moment, but as soon as he realised he couldn't actually smell me, he'd ignore the illusion."
"Fine, I'll do it," America shrugged.
"I'm not sure you'd be bait enough for him to leave his post," Loki said, biting his lip. He then squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "Okay. I can do this." He got to his feet.
Kate could see his hands and legs tremble.
Noh-Varr must have seen it too. "How about I fly you on my back?" he suggested. "It'd be faster than running."
Looking a bit embarrassed, Loki nodded.
Kate squeezed Noh-Varr's hand in surreptitious thanks; he squeezed back.
\\==V==//
When they got back down to the door to the main floor, the massive hall beyond it was blessedly empty. Twenty feet before the corner, America set up a giant star-shape on the floor, big enough for the Jotun, and gave Loki a thumb's-up. Loki glanced at Kate, who waited in the doorway, bow drawn with a fiery arrow. David, holding a torch and a quiver full of cloth-wrapped arrows, stood right behind her. Kate nodded at Loki. Nodding, back, Loki hopped up onto Noh-Varr's back, throwing his arms around the man's neck and legs around his waist. Billy did the same with Teddy, who was in his winged green Hulking guise. Teddy then flew into the rafters, battle-axe in hand, ready to attack from above if necessary. When they were settled, Billy flashed a thumbs-up.
"Ready!" Loki told Noh-Varr, who then sped off down the corridor; Loki held on for dear life. Moments later, they did indeed find the Jotun waiting by the pool, as Loki expeced. Noh-Varr slowed to hover before the monster, staying horizontal so that Loki could sit up and make himself more visible. "Hello, Father!" Loki called out, waving, with every bit of false cheer he could muster.
"Hello, Dinner!" the giant returned in a gleeful roar, launching himself at his alternate-universe son.
Noh-Varr quickly evaded the monster and flew out of the room, slowing just enough for the giant to struggle through the doorway and not lose sight of them.
A sudden wall of ice formed in front of them, and Noh-Varr, veering vertical at the last second, slammed into it, falling to the also-icy ground. Loki let out a scream when his knees, lower legs, and forearms impacted with the ice wall, and another when he landed on his back, with the not-exactly-light Noh-Varr landing on top of him. Dazed, Loki managed to regain his senses just in time to roll himself and his companion out of the way of his father's falling club. And roll again. And again.
A crack distracted Loki and his father both. More cracking revealed Hulking as he cut a hole through the ice-wall with the axe. The Jotun immediately started pounding his club right before the impromptu door. Teddy brought the axe down on the club -- and the axe was ripped from his hand on the club's upswing.
While the Jotun was focused on Teddy, Loki struggled to his feet and hurried off behind the giant, back towards the pool. Halfway, he stopped and screamed, "Hey, dummy! Over here!"
The Jotun spun about and started charging towards Loki, who in turn came running at the giant. "Get Noh-Varr to safety!" he yelled. When he was close enough, Loki sent green flashing lights into his father's eyes and slipped past the monster, narrowly avoiding the club. He felt the club hit the ground behind him just as he made it through Hulking's impromptu door.
Loki felt himself lifted off his feet and floated down the corridor at frightening speed. Billy set Loki down next to him, just before the corner, and together they waited for the Jotun to smash his way through the wall.
"Thanks," Loki panted.
"De nada," Billy replied, helping the Jotun out by blasting at the ice from their side. "Your dad's kind of a jerk -- I think I speak for all of us when I say we're happy to help you get rid of him! Even if he's not really yours."
"It's cathartic, nonetheless," Loki mused.
There's no better team-building exercise than a common enemy, the ghost observed.
Billy hid behind the corner, and Loki braced himself, ready to run. When his father burst through, he ran around the corner, over to America, and the Jotun followed -- but the monster stopped short at the star on the floor. The monster raised his club and brought it down over the star, aiming for Loki and America; America grabbed Loki and flew out of reach.
A flaming arrow soared through the air, catching in the Jotun's loincloth. As he batted unsuccessfully at it, another landed in one of his shoes; a moment later, his other shoe was alight as well.
With the Jotun busy, Loki promoted America to float him up behind the giant. Loki then called forth a sword from their recently acquired armoury. America backed up, then propelled them forward, giving Loki the force he needed to penetrate giant's thick hide and pierce the heart. Loki felt a hint of vicious satisfaction as the giant fell forward with a great, wet thud.
It wasn't enough.
The moment America set Loki down, he surged forward with a primal scream and began hacking away at the giant's head, determined to separate it from the rest of the corpse. He had no idea how long he'd gone at it before he'd finally succeeded, but he didn't intend to stop there.
He also had no idea how long Kate had been saying his name before he finally heard her.
"Enough, Loki! That's enough! Please!" He realised then that she was holding on to his arms, trying to stop him. He looked to her face and found her crying. Why was she crying? For his father?
Why did he feel so cold?
He'd been exerting himself far more than was usual for him -- he should be sweating! Instead, he felt a significant breeze around his head. Had his cowl come off? He reached up--
--and felt ice-cold skin instead of warm material.
The cold creeped down his spine. He had a pretty good idea of what he would see if he looked in a mirror, but he still gawked in disbelief when, in a spot on his sword that had managed to stay clean of blood, he saw skin as blue as his father's reflected back at him. He reached up and found hard protrusions on his forehead in place of his gold circlet; a hand reflected in the sword touched horns on the face looking out of it.
His hands began to shake, and he dropped the sword as if it burned. Reluctantly, he tugged off a glove -- and threw it angrily when he found that the hand beneath it was the blue he'd feared. It ached terribly, even before he gripped the wrist hard in his still-gloved hand. His legs, however, were practically numb as he sank to his knees, despite their injury against the ice-wall.
"I will never be free of what I am," he whispered, staring at Kate in horror. Fire streaked down his face -- at least, it felt that way. It didn't matter. Nothing hurt more than his heart -- in stabbing his father, he may as well have stabbed himself. Not because he loved the creature, but because, in being overwhelmed by his hatred for it and succumbing to the violence in his nature, he'd become the same damn thing he'd hated. His body wracked with sobs, he doubled over.
Somehow, Kate pried his tense limbs apart enough to gather him up into her arms, much as she had just hours gone. The idea of her touching him now, looking as he did, revolted him, and he feared his bared skin would burn her. He knew he should push her away ... but he felt weak as a kitten.
You crave her comfort more than you care for her safety, the ghost observed, sighing.
The spectre was probably right. Again, her caress on the back of his neck soothed him, warmth washing over him, easing his aches in body and heart, as if she was like a living healing stone.
Perhaps she had magic after all.
"S-sorry," he sniffed as he finally found the strength to sit back.
"There's nothing to be sorry for," she assured him. "I do want you to do something for me, though."
He looked up at her. "What's that?" he asked warily.
"Take a look into this," she told him, holding up a small, gilded mirror.
It was his mother's. Frigga's. Freyja's. Kate must have found it in the royal wing and put it in their pocket dimension.
"We're always our own worst critics. See yourself with your mother's eyes," Kate encouraged him. "See what she understood and loved about you. See why she chose to be your mom."
Gingerly, he took the mirror in trembling hands and did as Kate asked. He looked human again. For a moment, he was relieved -- until he thought about how it was just another lie he kept telling himself.
"Do you know what happened when you started to cry?" Kate asked.
He shrugged, ducking his head. He supposed he should be used to the humiliation of crying in front of others by now, but he was still embarrassed, all the same.
"Where your tears fell, your blue skin immediately started turning back to flesh-tone, and then the rest of you changed too. Your regret, your desire to be Asgardian, made you Asgardian. I could be wrong, but I'm betting that's something that would never happen to your father."
Loki's lips quirked into the closest thing to a smile they could make for the time being. "I think you'd win that bet." He looked around; they were alone. "Where is everyone?"
"They took Noh-Varr to the healing room," she said, rising to her feet and offering her hand to help him up.
Loki wondered just how much of his meltdown everyone saw before leaving, but decided he didn't want to know. He found his cowl -- he had a vague recollection now of pulling it off at some point during his frenzied hacking -- and slipped it back on. He saw Kate holding his gold circlet and reached out for it; she shook her head no. She reached out and tucked some stray hairs into the cowl, then held the circlet up and laid it gently over his head. Eying it critically, she fussed with it, then patted him on the head. He snorted. Smirking, she took his hand and yanked him onwards toward the healing room.
They rest there an hour or so, then headed back to the pool -- by another route, as none of them were eager to pass the giant corpse. (The skeletal remains of the Asgardians were bad enough, but at least those didn't reek.)
And so Loki found himself confronted with dread yet again, as, once again dressed in his impromptu swim attire, he stared down into the pool at the place where the Patri-Not had disappeared, America's portal-star marking the spot.
"You ready, chica?" America asked with a gentleness that didn't suit her at all.
"Sure," Loki replied, voice cracking. "Just gotta jump in -- don't have to actually swim, right? Sinking is something I do well!"
"Well, you don't have to swim so long as the other side of the portal is dry," Alleyne pointed out.
"David!" Kate hissed.
It made Loki feel marginally better to see Kate angry with Alleyne -- especially on his behalf.
"Let's just get this over with," Loki said, then took a deep breath.
He almost let the air out again when Kate took his hand, holding it tight. It nearly happened again when Billy took his other hand. Once they'd made a chain, America jumped into the water, and the rest of them were pulled in after, facing the unknown together ....
~FINIS~