Chained To My Shadow || Loki Angst

<Chapter Six> Crimson Rivers

A/N: Ayyy, I'm back! I guess Loki will have to keep suffering, then :) 

Third Person POV: 

  Back in his room, Loki finally allowed himself to give in, lying motionless on his bed, with the only light source being the faint evening sunlight barging in through the soft curtains and from under his closed door. 

  The muscles in his face didn't twitch, void of any indicator as to what he could be feeling. His eyes didn't shine with their iconic mischievous glint, silently telling you to watch your back in case your bed disappears from under you that night or you fall into a dark hole on your way to work. No, there was none of that. 

  Instead they searched the room quietly, stopping at the open door to the bathroom. 

  No. Not tonight. But then again... 

  Sighing, defeated, Loki rose from his spot on the bed. Not much point in trying to stop himself at this point. 

  When he opened the cabinet above the sink and peered inside, he found nothing. He momentarily froze, looking sideways in thought. Then it occurred to him. 

  He kneeled down and opened the one below him. There it was. 

  He took out the unused razor and didn't even bother closing the cabinet door before yanking his sleeve up and searching for an untouched patch of skin to use. In the end he had to settle for one with the fewest and oldest scars. 

  Holding the blade in a steady hand against his wrist, he didn't hesitate before dragging it down instinctively. Like it was a motion in his nature to do, like he was always made to be doing this to himself. 

  Giving himself a bit of time to savour every moment of the crimson now gushing from the open wound, he gritted his teeth in frustration and did it again. And again. And again. And again. 

  His face was just as blank as always, but his eyes twitched left and right, taking in every inch of every cut, following the blood as it trickled down like a wonderful crimson river, hugging his boney wrist before a drop landed on the white tile. 

  He appreciated the realisation that red went so very well with white, and was tempted to cut deeper, make the pool bigger and see a larger picture of the fascinating contrast. Let it be the last thing he ever sees. 

  But no, he mustn't. He didn't want to ruin the tiles. 

  His stoic expression flickered for a moment, and the tiniest signs of a smirk crept onto his face. He let out a barely audible huff. 

  He couldn't explain why, but he found that thought hilariously ironic. He'd watched cities burn to the ground out of his bidding, yet was afraid to ruin a bathroom tile. How very fitting. 

  He imagined what Thor would say, or Tony, or Bruce, or anyone. His features hardened once more, smirk drooping down into a frown as he realised he couldn't hide this forever.

  Eventually, they would find out. They would laugh at him and call him a coward, not like they didn't already do that, but they'd kick him out and he knew he wasn't welcome on Asgard either, so he'd have to find an alternative place to stay. Perhaps a back alley would do. There he'd be found by some tough robber or something and beaten to a pulp again and again, just as it was his birthright to do. 

  What goes around comes around, he supposed. His frown deepened. 

  And it would be well deserved. 

*** 

  Weeks had passed. Not much time, yet so much had changed from when Loki first arrived. 

  There had been a fair few missions since, and Loki was finally starting to get into the flow of what he needed to do, and most surprisingly for the god, the Avengers actually seemed to be warming up to him a little bit. 

  He still hadn't decided if that was a good thing or not. On one hand, it certainly meant less awkward conversations and meetings, but on the other, he was getting the increasing worry that he was unintentionally manipulating them. 

  They were beginning to trust him with bigger roles in missions, and he felt it was only a matter of time before he fucked something up and betrayed them, and then they'd be back to step one. Back to the hateful remarks and suspicious side-glances.  

  Things were worryingly okay, and Loki knew from experience that that could only mean that danger was approaching, and that as soon as he let his guard down for a split second, the snake would pounce and bite him in the leg like he so deserved. 

  He hated when things seemed okay. 

  "Loki? Are you good?" He looked up. Oh. Tony was staring at him. 

  "Huh?" 

  "I just decided in the name of every person in this room that we're gonna watch a movie. What do you think about that?" 

  "Oh. I-" 

  "Fantastic! Thank you, everyone agrees then. Let's watch-" 

  "I didn't agree. Who said I agree?" Steve cut in. 

  "I did. Now. How about Frozen? Steve, you love that one, don't you?" 

  "WhaT?" 

  "You'd find it very nostalgic. Let's watch it!" 

  Loki sniggered, and Steve turned to glare at him. 

  "Reindeer Games, could you get us some snacks? 't's all in the kitchen cupboard, you know where." 

  "Mm." He didn't know where they were, but it was fine. He'd be able to find them somewhere. Not wanting to keep the others waiting Loki stood up hurriedly. Perhaps a bit too hurriedly, because as soon as he did, black spots swarmed his vision and he swayed dangerously. 

  It was as if his head was suddenly filled with helium, or... something. He was tired. His knees trembled under him. They gave way almost immediately. 

  He managed to catch himself on the arm of the couch, but the way he grabbed it twisted his arm painfully backwards, and it took everything in him not to cry out. All that escaped him was a grunt, but that was enough to grab everyone's attention. 

  "Loki?" His brother was beside him almost immediately. 

  "Fine." Despite Thor's offer of help, he managed to stand up mostly only leaning on the arm of the couch. He breathed heavily, the effort almost making him topple over again. The lightheadedness hadn't stopped. And now the room was spinning as well. 

  Ignoring the attention of everyone around him, Loki turned once again toward the kitchen. He took a few clumsy steps, then stumbled sideways, disorientated. If the room could just stand still.. it was making him want to throw up. 

  "...ki. Sit... Are... sick?" He stopped, leaning on the kitchen counter and closing his eyes for a moment to compose himself.

  When the world finally stopped doing summersaults around him, he opened the first cupboard in front of him. Thankfully he spotted a large stash of chips, chocolate bars, popcorn and some other stuff that he grabbed as fast as he could without looking at them, turning and walking back to the others. 

  "Thanks." He sat down at the last available spot, between his brother and Bruce, just as Tony started the movie. 

  "Jesus Christ, Tony, are we really watching Frozen?" 

  "Shut up, Steve. It's fucking starting." 

  "Language." Cap murmured bitterly. 

  "English." 

+++ 

A/N: I just watched Endgame for the first time to get back into the fandom a bit. It was... great 🥲 I already knew what was going to happen but it still fucking burned 

I'm gonna skip a few movies and only watch Far From Home because I just cannot wait longer to finally see Loki TV haha 

Anyways hope you guys are well <3