Valhalla || A Loki Fanfic

Chapter 20

I nearly topple off the windowsill the second time he speaks, a feeling I can't recall overwhelming me.

Barton continues on like nothing's happening like he isn't defying the very rules that the Norns set in place.

"At least, I hope you're here, otherwise I'm just gonna look like an idiot," he sniffs, voice cracking towards the end.

Then I talk. A quiet whisper, barely audible.

"Can you see me?" I ask, unaware of my hands shaking slightly.

Barton shakes his head, "No, I just- I feel you. If that makes sense? I feel your presence here, but I know you're not," he says. And as I look closer I realize he's staring at the window, his eyes glazing over where I am.

I raise my eyebrows, as if to question why he's here talking to me at all?

Clint lets out a broken chuckle, "You know, I was gonna say some bullshit about how you were controlled by Thanos, I assuming you know I know that though?"

That's true, I know all his memories, as he does mine, courtesy of the horrid mind stone.

"So..." he trails off, eyes finally setting on my body, my real body. Lingering on the awful ridges that rise above my sapphire skin. The brown horns and tail protruding from my body.

"Please don't," I mumble, curling into a tighter ball and squeezing my eyes shut. My tail flicking around me instinctivly.

I shouldn't care what he thinks. No matter what he's going to hate me, being a monster is just the icing on the cake.

"Why?"

I scoff, rolling my eyes so hard I'm surprised they don't fall out of my head. "Please, you're the one with my memories that I don't care to relieve. Being the very thing that you were taught was evil doesn't exactly give you the best self-esteem,"

When I'm King, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all.

The Jötuns must learn to fear me.

Come brother, let's play hunt the Jötuns.

Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster.

"I don't see it that way,"

So I am no more than another stolen relic. Locked up, here, until you might have use of me.

"On Earth, we call it internal racisim. Being taught to think less of someone because of something they can't control. That's what your dad did to you, right?"

I stiffen when he calls Odin my father, a low growl escaping my throat.

"What do you want? And don't bullshit me by saying that you were worried, because we both know that's not true. You're happy that I died," I say bitterly.

"I'm happy you can't hurt people anymore,"

But surely, he knows, that I don't mean to hurt anyone?

I could've done it father.

There is blue in my mind and a sickly power in my hands. Nobody understands. Nobody can see that I am in the scepters hands, drunk with power that is not my own. So I let Thor fall. Because he cannot see that I am sick and my actions are not mine.

And so I hurt people because

they.

see.

nothing.

"What. Do. You. Want?" I spit, the words like acid on my tongue. I need him gone, I need him and his pretend sympathy to leave me.

Barton shifts uncomfortably on his feet, dreading to ask the question.

"Well, y-you're dead,"

Then I know where he's going with this.

"Do you know where Nat is?"

It feels like a punch to the gut. Being vulnerable in front of someone for the first time since my mother's death. And he simply uses me to try to get to his friend.

"Get out,"

He's smart enough to not ask again.

I wonder if this is what betrayal truly feels like.

But I strangely feel nothing.

It's difficult to break a heart that's already been shattered.