Caught (Loki x reader)

Chapter 1

You can't remember.

You're not being dramatic; you really can't remember anything.

Where you are, what you were doing, why every bone in your body aches, or who this pale, half dead looking man with long black hair kneeling before you is.

Something warm and wet is dripping down the side of your face. Blood.

Pain is a sensation long forgotten to you, but now you're experiencing it again it feels like only yesterday that it was second nature to have some sort of wound somewhere on your body.

Your breath is coming in short, sharp bursts; each inhale feels like knives in your chest. It's only now that you notice the knife in your hand. It's bloodstained. You're pointing it at the man before you.

"Do it."

His voice is so hoarse that you can hardly make out the words he utters. Your eyes flick from the knife in your hand to his face, and slowly, things start to make sense.

This is the man who had led the attack on New York; the one you've been fighting against. His face had been all over the news this morning, and that's how you recognised him when... when he'd...

Your eyes move to the odd looking spear on the ground next to him. It's within his reach, but he makes no move towards it, his eyes fixed on your face. That thing is what he'd used to control you.

Your memories were still blurred, but that much was clear: he'd been controlling you.

"Please."

Your eyes meet his again. Everything hurts; your arm is shaking just from the effort of holding up this one knife towards his face. Something's different about him. You can't put a finger on it, but he looks different to how he looked on the news, besides the fact that he's covered in bruises and blood.

And he's asking you to kill him.

You should. Shouldn't you? Countless people must be dead because of him. And you're stood over him with a knife, perfectly aware of several ways to end his life with one swift movement. You've done it enough times before.

But that was then. This is now.

His eyes are boring into yours; he looks desperate. You can't think straight.

"No!" a deep voice shouts, and suddenly your decision is made for you. You can't help but feel relieved as the knife drops from your hand.

A hand descends on your shoulder, and you turn to look into the face of Tony Stark. The rest of the Avengers are crossing the room towards you, weapons pointed at the man on the floor, who keels to one side as you back away from him.

The voice, you realise, belonged to Thor. The man's brother.

As your legs finally give up on you and you begin an ungainly descent towards the ground, two thoughts cross your mind.

The first is the remembrance of the pale man's name.

The second is the realisation that Loki's eyes had been an entirely different colour when you'd seen him on the news that morning.

And then the darkness takes you.