Sylvie jolted up from sleep, hands already poised to attack whoever dared—
Oh. It was just Loki, hand on her shoulder.
“Why did you wake me up?” Sylvie asked, injecting a scathing tone in her voice. She very rarely got to sleep well, and she knew she couldn’t be running on empty for much longer.
“I don’t… I don’t feel good?” Loki said it like he was unsure, but Sylvie could see what was happening immediately. The unkempt shirt, his bright eyes, the way he swayed a bit more than he should be, even on a train.
“Oh my god,” Sylvie said. “You’re drunk.” Of fucking course he would be. It’s just the type of selfish, hedonistic thing a Loki would do.
“I’m not!” Loki exclaimed, bracing himself on the table. “I just had a… a few drinks, okay?”
“Yeah, right. I know our alcohol tolerance, and you did not just have ‘a few drinks.’” Sylvie pointed out. It took quite a bit to get a Jotun in that state, even a small one like him. “Whatever, just… sit down and sober up a bit. We don’t want to make a scene.”
Loki nodded and took a seat. He folded up his arms and pillowed his head on them, as if trying to block out as much light as possible. He didn’t even try to order another drink when Sylvie flagged down a waitress for food.
“Eat something.” Sylvie said, shaking him awake.
He sat up blearily and shook his head before wincing. “No, I…” his words trailed off.
Sylvie sat straighter, sensing the slur in his words. Something was definitely wrong. She glanced around, quickly finding the door to the next car. Everybody was partying, so they could hopefully slip away unnoticed.
“Come on.” She said softly. Loki was certainly annoying, but even she knew when to hold her tongue. She pulled him out of their booth and they stumbled their way into the crowd, hopefully just looking like a bunch of drunkards.
And then Loki retched, and Sylvie only had a moment’s warning before he vomited on the dance floor. She pulled him back, but the guards had already noticed the commotion.
A hand clasped her upper arm. “We have a couple of stowaways.” She heard the guard speak into his communicator.
Sylvie spun, dropping Loki and reaching for the guard’s face. He moved back, and Sylvie pulled out the knife strapped to her thigh. A blast of green energy rushed by her, punching a hole in the train car and taking the guard with it. More guards had moved up now, grabbing her and Loki. Sylvie plunged a knife into one guard’s gut, another into a shoulder, but she felt her feet lift from the ground as she was roughly thrown from the train.
The world spun for a fleeting moment, and then she hit the ground. She tumbled for some time until she had slowed enough to stop. She didn’t move, trying to quell her dizziness. She was fucked, wasn’t she? God, unless Loki was going to give her that Tempad—
Sylvie’s eyes fluttered open. Loki! She looked around for him. She almost missed it in the dark, but she saw the shape of a body a few dozen feet away. She made her way over. She saw that he was retching again, and he didn’t show any sign that he heard her.
“Loki?”
He stopped and pushed himself up. Well, he tried to, but even kneeling on the ground, he swayed so badly that Sylvie grabbed him to keep him steady. He didn’t just look drunk; Sylvie could feel heat radiating off of him, and his eyes were so dilated that they looked black to her in this lighting.
“What in the hell did they give you?” Sylvie mumbled.
“‘Said it was the same drink…” Loki said. “Am I dying?”
“Look, some spiked drinks shouldn’t kill you,” Sylvie pointed out.
Loki sort of… tilted into her, which she allowed with some reluctance. They didn’t have much time to spare, but she would give him five minutes to try and get his bearings. Then she would get the Tempad off of him, and they could get off of this scrap heap planet.
Loki wrapped his arms around her. “I di’nt mean the drinks,”
“We have a plan,” Sylvie pointed out. “Just… let me have the Tempad and we’ll be fine.”
Loki shook his head. “We can’t. We can’t do tha’ to them.”
Sylvie grabbed his arms, prying him away. “There’s no other way. Don’t be soft.”
“They don’t deserve it, Sylvie.” The light seemed to only make his eyes darker now, so dark she felt like she could fall into them.
“I didn’t survive for so long by doing what people deserved.” Sylvie reached forward, grabbing his collar. “Give me the Tempad.”
“No.”
Sylvie pulled out her bloodstained knife. She could enchant him. His mind was so muddled it would be easy. But he was trying to preach to her about doing the right thing, as if he weren’t smashing his glass house with a fucking bat, as if anyone had ever stopped and treated her like she deserved.
There was a glow of green light, and then a crunch. Sylvie looked down, where the Tempad was crushed in Loki’s hand hard enough that he bled from it.
“Don’ ever tell me what to do.”
Sylvie dropped his collar and watched him fall. And then she kicked him. Just once, just to get her anger out, but the bastard didn’t make a sound except the shallow breathing that followed. Hot tears spilled over. That was their way out, and now she’s spent one thousand years on nothing because some Loki decided to be a martyr at the wrong fucking time.
She screamed, aiming a blast of magic at the sky because if she didn’t she would aim it at Loki, and she knew, deep down, he didn’t deserve that.
“Did tha’ make you feel better?” Loki asked, and she didn’t know if he referred to her kicking him or throwing her magic at the sky.
“Yes.” Sylvie said, just to spite him.
“We still have some time,” Loki continued. His words were still slurred, but he sounded a bit better. “There could be another way out.”
“There isn’t. Not with you so…” Sylvie trailed off, gesturing at where he still hadn’t gotten up out of the grass.
“Then leave me. Find a way out.”
Sylvie swallowed. She could do just that. He was just another Loki. His kind were a dime a dozen. But she found herself sitting down next to him. She was kidding herself. There was no other way out of here, and she didn’t want to die alone, on the run. She was sure Loki didn’t, either.
“I’m sorry for kicking you…”
“I’m used to it.” Loki pushed himself up, pausing a moment as she could see dizziness set in, and leaned against her.
“That doesn’t make it alright.” Sylvie said. “Even if the world hates us, we shouldn’t hate each other.”
They deserved better, she thought, watching the colorful meteors slam into the distant ground.
“I like the sound of that…” Loki said quietly. He moved a bit closer to her, and she focused on the warmth of him. How… normal he seemed.
“End of the world truce?” He asked with a smile, holding out a shaking hand.
Sylvie took his hand in her own. Neither said another word, and they didn’t need to.