The Dread of Departure
Darkness. As usual.
And he was sitting in the middle of it all, back turned to you. Feeling your conscience shift into a form, into yourself you proceeded with caution, afraid to disturb him. The silence around you was almost so loud it was deafening, feeling like pins and needles to you as nervousness surged like fire through your veins.
You wanted to feel happy at seeing him at all, yet found yourself unable to as he appeared unresponsive to your nearing presence. Only as your name rang through the void, echoing off of nothingness did you allow a little smile to grace your face, steps getting wider as you soon found yourself standing right in front of him.
Seated and crumpled on the ground.
There was no such serenity in his conscience from the one his body carried outside of his mind, none at all. he appeared weary, tired. Positively disturbed to a point where his stare was merely blank and grey, lifeless as it went right through you.
“Loki,” you mumbled, concern heavily lining your voice as you sat down in front of him. As he made no move to show that he had heard you, you felt yourself growing more frantic with each second that ticked by.
“Loki, hey,” you repeated his name in an attempt to rouse him from his trance, hand gently reaching out to rest upon his arm and flinching yourself as he didn’t move even a bit, didn’t even fight against you touching him. Didn’t even move away himself as his stare held the same lack of life as it did before.
“I-“ you began, gently moving your hand up and down his arm as if attempting to warm him, a desperate gesture to pull him back to reality, “Hey, Loki, look.”
Your other hand decided to hold onto his shoulder, giving him a firm yet careful shake, eyes darting around to wait for a reaction, anything. Anything to show you that he was still there.
“It’s me,” you added, giving a sorrowful smile, “I’m here, it’s okay.”
His mouth opened ever so slightly, closed a couple of times, as if struggling to form his thoughts into a functioning sentence.
“Everything had been a lie,” he spoke at last, voice carrying barely any hint of emotion whatsoever and you had to strain to read into it as much as you could, finding traces of grief, anger and hopelessness hidden behind layers upon layers of indifference. Forced indifference, you couldn’t help but realize, understanding why his subconsciousness was but a black, empty void.
He was experiencing too many different things, emotions and thoughts to even try and understand them, instead shoving them away, bottling them up instead of thoroughly dealing with them.
You couldn’t blame him. You had no idea where to start either.
In a subconscious movement you gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, other hand still moving along his arm as if having forgotten that you were even doing it, drawing little patterns along his arm as if to distract the both of you from the current situation. Honestly, you hadn’t even expected him to allow you to touch him at all, having waited to be pushed away immediately. His lack of any kind of reaction was terrific to say the least.
There was more resting right atop his tongue, waiting to be let out into the world, yet he couldn’t bring himself to. You felt his insecurities, his hesitation running circles around him as clear as day.
“I can help you with that,” you said, almost whispered to him, “If you let me.”
Upon detecting the slightest hint of a nod you closed your eyes, started concentrating on the many words tumbling in knots around him.
You sensed panic, hopeless panic paired with morbid acceptance. As if believing that whatever happened to him was deserved; something you blatantly refused to agree with.
You sensed sadness, grief rather, almost so palpable you believed to be capable of touching it, already feeling it starting to entangle itself with your own mind before abruptly detaching yourself from it as it became to overwhelming to bear.
You sensed fury, mostly in regards to the situation, for it turning out the way it did. There was hatred in there too, almost purely directed at himself, and you started to tremble realizing that his hatred for Thanos was no more than a tiny speck in comparison, your own hatred for the purple titan burning stronger than you could have ever imagined for hated to burn.
But what you sensed the most, above everything, was guilt.
Guilt for everything he had ever done. From every tiny little occasion, to huge, truly terrific ones, whether he had actually consciously committed them or not. From the one time he had hid a snake in his brother’s boots when they had been but children, to the moment he had lost control in a fit of rage, screaming at his father in anguish and hurt, blaming himself and himself only for the King’s resulting coma.
Odin-Sleep, something, someone replied.
Even all the way up to his attack on New York, something akin to terror secretly dripping from him as he pondered how he could have ever committed to such an act without his full consciousness, almost terrified by his actions.
“Not your actions,” you whispered, trying to sound as calm as possible.
All his thoughts entangled into one, as if to answer your claim.
“I should have been able to stop it.”
“No,” you hastily replied, “You were manipulated, you were corrupted by that mad titan. You couldn’t have done anything.”
“I should have tried harder,” came the reply.
You snapped back out of his direct thoughts, back to where he appeared to be sitting in the middle of a void, a black hole threatening to engulf every positive thought he may have ever had. With something akin to a light scowl you stared down at him, intensifying the glare for good measure.
“Listen,” you started, “All this guilt will get you nowhere. Your mother and brother love you, they understand that this wasn’t your fault, that someone else was behind all of that.”
Your hands now both dug into his shoulders, intending to reach him, to ground him enough to enable him to fight back the enormous flood of doubts drowning him.
“They love you and would never accept you beating yourself up about it.”
His stare was still too empty for your liking and you bit your lip, swallowing the lump in your throat as you tried to catch his gaze nonetheless.
“Didn’t I always tell you the truth?”
With these words laid out before you, paired with the slightest hint of recognition in his eyes, you decided to try something new. Collecting your strength with closed eyes you decided to simply show him what you felt. it was a rather intimate process, you mused, yet you knew it was exactly what he needed. Sincerity. Trust.
Concentration drenched your entire being as light started to seep into the darkness surrounding you, coming straight from your very own mind.
Being able to manipulate minds certainly had its perks—weaving around in other people’s minds while being completely in control of yourself, watching and discovering everything the other person might not want the world to know.
Their deepest desires, their fears, their hopes and dreams.
All the while your mind remained completely closed off, only for you to know about. All the time you were merely an intruder, holding the key to the other person right in your hands, while they were unable to do the slightest thing to stop you from entering.
This time it would be different.
And so you willingly opened yourself up, making yourself just as vulnerable as he had been to you all this time, feeling everything you were float out of you for him to be seen, and he perked up as memories came to the both of you. You watched as he observed, felt everything you had felt, saw everything you had seen, heard everything you had heard.
You still watched how he interacted with it, how his eyes grew softer, his mouth quirked up into a small but sincere smile while you felt him relish in your emotions, in what you were.
It was no wonder, really.
His mind was a dark place, pitch black and more akin to a void than a place supposedly filled with memories and thoughts and emotions, as he seemingly tried to conceal everything within him by hiding it in impenetrable darkness, darkness only you and your abilities could manage to see through.
Your mind was quite the contrary; bathed in bright light, memories effortlessly floating around you without giving it much second thought. Sure, as everyone else you had things you weren’t necessarily proud of, as well as memories that were rather left undisturbed. But it was your place.
It was you.
And for a moment, his mind brightened alongside yours.
After you had retreated back into yourself, his eyes seemed to have lightened up, from half dead back to appearing alive as they darted around, taking in everything surrounding you both, before his attention fell on you with the tiniest hint of a smile. It was obvious to you how he still appeared to be struggling with words, struggling with everything that he now knew and everything that had happened. It was terrifyingly obvious that he needed time to digest it all, and you couldn’t help the feeling of grief shining through as you understood that you wouldn’t be there to witness it all, to help him through it.
“What brings you to my subconsciousness?” he asked, trying a mixture of lightheartedness and genuine confusion with a grin still etched on his face, but your apparently rather serious and saddened expression must have sobered him up in an instant, you watching his smile turn to a frown.
“...Did you not tell me that you need physical contact to interact with me like this?”
You gave a nod, hands having eased away from his shoulders long ago to rest back in your lap, to give him the freedom you believed he needed.
“It’s an exception,” you started, not quite knowing how to put what happened into words and deciding to rather cut to the chase, “Thor helped to sneak me into your cell so I could say goodbye. I have to leave Asgard tomorrow.”
Loki’s eyes seemed to widen at first, fondness shining through at the thought of his brother having defied his father’s clear instructions to keep him secluded, yet it soon turned to almost horrified realization before he settled with something that seemed like defeat and acceptance to your observant soul.
After having visited him all this time, you could not imagine how it would be for him to go back to solitude, for you didn’t believe you could uphold even just your mental connection over such a distance—it having barely worked enough to reach the room you had rested in during your stay.
“Might as well use the remaining time to chat?” you offered with a sheepish grin, not completely managing to mask the dread shining clearly through your consciousness and getting lost in your fear of what might happen of the connection once it widened to a chasm between the two of you, entire worlds keeping your two connected souls apart.
“If you don’t mind?”
“I do not,” he gave a short reply, though his mind, same as yours, betrayed the combination of sorrow and happiness he didn’t manage to conceal. The only thing to ease your worries was how his eyes had lost its grey and shone with new life once more.
———
There was a tiny ripple surging through the both of you feeling much akin to a droplet of rain hitting the surface of water—a clear sign that your strength was draining fast—barely having properly caught yourself after you had given his memories back to him a day ago. You had not managed to talk much, the dread of having to leave so suddenly, hanging like chains attached to your body and dragging your spirits down to unbelievable depths. That Odin had wanted you gone the moment you arrived was clear, crystal clear.
Even just convincing him to help his own son, the Prince had resulted in Thor having to leave to attend to some favor in return. And now that it was done you had no more excuses to manage and stay, for you doubted the King would mind even the slightest bit whether the two of you were now connected or not.
“I believe this is our farewell then,” he said after you had quieted, fallen deeply into thought at the unfairness of it all. He apparently felt your hold on his mind weaken as much as you did, his hands laid in his lap restless as he picked on his left one for apparent distraction.
“Yes,” you replied, head dropping to look down in the face of this bittersweet departure. There were so many things left you had wanted to say, so many things you had still wanted to find out. And while you dearly missed your family, you couldn’t bear to leave so abruptly, leave everything behind which had grown to you over the course of time.
“...Thank you,” he spoke suddenly, surprising the both of you judging by the tiny shift of his posture once the words left his lips, the way his mouth opened and closed in thoughts for a couple of times, “For everything you have done.”
There was a moment of silence in which you processed everything. Not just the words, but the unmistaken sincerity behind it, the undeniable depth behind just two spoken words; for it all was clear for you to see all around him, appreciation so palpable he couldn’t deny it even if he tried. Not that this method would have ever worked on you either way.
You could only give a sweet smile as a reply, words failing you over and over in your head in your search for a fitting way to respond. There was nothing even close that you could think of, to express the way you felt. But as you noticed his expression brightening ever so slightly you realized that he must have still been able to see the equal amounts of appreciation floating around you for him to pick up as well.
“Goodbye Loki,” you spoke, distress deeply entangled within every syllable, “I hope to see you again.”
“I am certain we will,” he replied, giving an almost weary, yet somewhat mischievous smile back, and it took you a moment to realize the implication of your connected souls—of you being bound together even after death had come to claim you, “Farewell.”
Barely having had the time to hear your name roll from his lips as an extended gratitude, the world began to crumble around you, darkness blurring to shift back to the inside of his cell as you left him in his lingering unconsciousness to heal from the mental wounds that he had been unfairly gifted with.
———
The times for farewell were never easy—no one ever liked thinking about how much so, until they were caught in a situation were there was no other choice.
Surrounded by Aldís, Ragnarr and Thor, people you had come to know over the past few months and had long since started to regard as friends, you were saying your goodbyes. Your normal clothes almost felt odd against your skin after such a long time of wearing nothing but Asgardian fabric. The only physical reminder of Asgard was the coat left from the outfit created by your friends’ suggestions, which Aldís had fondly draped around your shoulders before ushering you outside to meet up with the rest.
“This might not look that much out of place on Midgard,” she had said, ensuring you they would keep the rest in case you might somehow find your way back while she fumbled with it to straighten the fabric, your eyes following the embroidered pattern making it look slightly modern and earthly despite its origins. While appearing feeble you decided to cling to her optimism, to the hope it provided you with.
Ragnarr stepped up to give you an affectionate hug with a force you could have never dreamed of replicating, brown, messy hair tickling your skin before you gave it a quick pat. Even Aldís, who you had noticed to be slightly aversed to the idea of affectionate contact, had pulled you into a hug by her own decision, sadness glistening in all of their eyes as they took a hesitant step back for Thor to escort you home.
With the Bifrost not yet being fully functional, Thor had been momentarily entrusted with the Tesseract to send you off back to Earth. Standing outside of the royal palace, close to the rainbow bridge glowing in the bright sunlight pestering you from above, you watched your friends with squinted eyes.
You missed them already, heart aching and pounding painfully behind your ribcage, and you’d love to swear that you would visit them soon—a promise you could never make, a promise everyone knew you couldn’t give.
With unshed tears glistening in your eyes you began to wave, all the while offering a forced smile; a facade that almost broke as you thought about the Prince still lying unconscious in his cell underground.
For a fact, to distract yourself from your pained thoughts you didn’t stop waving until Thor put his arm around your back, securing you against powers you might—but also might not—have been able to withstand alone, didn’t even stop until a blue, familiar light engulfed the both of you and you found yourself back on a familiar street, surrounded by familiar sights and familiar noises. You gave another saddened goodbye to the blonde who returned it with a sorrowful glance as he pulled you into a brotherly hug, gentle but tight, as if a silent promise. There was no need for you to see the forced smile gracing his face, no need to watch his eyes contort with pain at being unable to stop the sudden departure ripping you from the new situation you had found yourself in. No need to see him to feel the clear distress seeping out of him, as clearly as it always did.
“Thank you,” he said with his lips curled upwards more sincerely as he let go, giving you a last pat on the back, “For helping my brother.”
You could only give a gentle nod before he disappeared in a mist of mysterious blue.
Before you realized you were back in New York.