Cyborg (Loki fanfic) - on hiatus

Welp, that's great! (Chapter 25)

PiC ComMenTs  (I personally really like this fanart, I'll put the rest of it at the end of the chapter, pls tell me someone made a fanfic about this. ;-; if you search "Loki Thanosson" You should find the fanart I'm talking about)

Cassidy stared at the haze of blue, not blinking. One of the benefits of being the school staring contest champion was that you can keep an eye on your friend while he does something extremely life-threatening, that while Cassidy admits, suggested he do it himself. Her answer to Happy repeated itself in her head; "Fine, we won't tell him. But why can't we tell him?" "Because I have to. And soon." It was true, when Pepper had asked whether something had happened to Loki when he was younger, and she had to resurrect him.

She forced the memories of that day at bay but to no avail. The screaming, the crying, the flailing, and the heart-wrenching sobs haunted her to this day. She felt her heart ache, almost as painfully as the day when it first happened. She remembered the dread that filled her body when his convulsing stopped. Breathing, although shallow, which was there not a few moments ago, abruptly ceasing with a lurch of his chest. She killed him, she had let him die. She tried to reassure herself that he was merely unconscious, not deceased, not gone. All it took was one moment to check his pulse to confirm her fears. He was dead. 

Horrible flashbacks played before her eyes that day, remembering the many horrible and unfair ways Lokis died, (Also, yes I'm saying Lokis now, and not Loki's or Lokis' because what they in Thor and Loki; Double trouble.) and she's been too late to stop it. The sacred timeline Loki being choked to death, while still being alive, but paralyzed and unable to move or communicate to the collapsing world around him, but more importantly, his brother. She was brought out of her thoughts when a distant voice spoke up; "Cassidy! Cassidy!" The voice was tinny, and she barely noticed it in the sea of memories. 

But responsively, she did. She blinked, and her arduous recollections vanished and were replaced by a concerned-looking Pepper Potts staring at her, and a tense Happy at her side, as if he was sure what to do or why he was even still here. "Cassidy?" Pepper repeated, causing the young girl to look at her. "What happened? You fell on the floor and started crying. Is something wrong?" The unanswered question was left out, that something was wrong, it was just that Cassidy didn't want to tell her what. Cassidy took in a shuddered breath, and pulled herself up off the floor, wrapping her arms around herself protectively as she did so. 

"No, nothing's wrong. Or at least anything that you can help with." Cassidy replied curtly, the frigid tone in her voice made a reappearance, although lightly. "Just memories. Nothing important, or that you can help with for that matter. Something happened, it was finished and it was done. Simple." She swallowed, a hefty intention still in her mind. She had to tell Loki what happened that day, the emanation of not telling him far outweighed the consequences of telling him. With her decision in mind, she shifted her full attention back to the mist. 

It swirled, nothing changed in the colour or texture of the fog, It shifted slightly, but she could have imagined it. Abruptly, the whirling stopped and blasted outwards in a flurry of amber. (To be exact, the *yellow* amber, not the honey-coloured amber, or orange) Loki's outline amongst the outburst was still visible, she sighed in relief that her best friend was indeed alive, and not dead. The flash died down, and she hazardously opened her eyes. She glanced at Loki, just in time to see him plummet to the ground. She waved her hand, teleporting herself a few feet closer to him. Unlike what most people thought, the rules of teleportation were much less restricted than most thought them to be. 

For one thing, you didn't have to know beforehand where you were teleporting to, Seidr, or magic as most amateurish people called it was sentient. It was alive and had a mind of its own. It had to be cared for, challenged and orderly. Almost like taking care of a puppy. And since it was alive, it also had its intelligence. Most, if not all of the Völvas and Seidrmadrs that Cassidy had met had a favourable relationship with their Seidr, meaning they were fruitful in the art. On very few occasions, the legatee hadn't had a pleasant relation with their Seidr, and there were consequences.