â
Talk of murder. Talk of death. Death angel violence.
The residents of Derleth were dropping like flies and Loki wasnât surprised.
If it had been any week other than this particular week, Loki probably would have lost it on the net board. As it was his communication on the board, considering his history with the device, had been rather limited as of late. No one seemed to notice his absence, both physically and electronically. He didnât blame them. There was a lot of death going on. But that suited Loki fine because he wasnât in the mood to deal with anyoneâs overbearing nonsense. Least of all his own. Thatâs why he liked Natasha. She recognized when to leave him alone. And even though he disagreed with her running off and playing the hero on the first few days of the week, he didnât stop her. Just like he didnât stop anyone. Or lecture anyone. Even though they all needed a good lecture. The heroes, most of all.
Not that anyone would listen to Loki if he tried to reason with them. His track record didnât exactly lend him to being believable or trustworthy. Theyâd probably all assume he was mocking them. Whatever. He didnât care. He was beyond caring at this point. He was just trying to survive to the next week without making another dumb decision. He was trying to figure out who he was. Or who he wanted to be. And what he planned to do.
And he had lots of plans. Unfortunately, none of them could be implemented during this week. Heâd have to wait for the Void.
On the third day Loki took off on his own for a longer range scouting mission. Heâd left Natasha a note on her nightstand so she wouldnât worry:
Dear Tasha,
Decided to pop out for a breath of fresh air. If I donât make it back you can have my most secret personal belongings. Theyâre under my mattress. If Sam doesnât give them to you just knee him where it counts.
Donât get eaten while Iâm gone!
♥ Laufeyson. Loki Laufeyson.
And that was how he ended up miles from Derleth, walking soundlessly between the burned out, broken down, and rolled over vehicles of a grocery store parking lot. All an apocalypse means is that no one survives. Thatâs what Sylvie had said. Heâd been specific when he mentioned this wasnât an apocalypse. This was an apocalypse. Derleth wasnât.
He paused beside an old Toyota. He didnât need to look at it to know there was a rotting corpse instead. The stench reached his nostrils from three parking spots back. He listened carefully. Nothing. Silence. He continued on towards the store entrance. Everyone else could waste their time trying to kill the creatures. Loki was going to stock up for the next disaster.
The local Buy Mart wasn't Roxxcart with a raging hurricane outside, but there was a certain level of familiarity. If Sylvie had a home, this would be something akin to it. She silently trolled the shelves, looking for items she could stash away in the single room she'd been given. Asgard, it was not. Still it was more than she'd had before. It had a bed.
But a traveling time prison through apocalypses with a bunch of Lokis still sounded like Hel.
Sylvie had stationed herself on the candy aisle. She quietly placed several large bags of gummy bears into her soft tote bag. Then, because she was thinking about the future, she grabbed a few items (like hard candies) that she couldn't eat in a world of silence. It was agonizingly slow, putting these items into her bag, putting a cloth between each bag so that they wouldn't rub up against one another.
She'd pay very good money for a TemPad right now. Open a door to Butler Hall, dump her rubbish out, and head back for more. Instead, she was stuck doing this the old fashioned way, and would likely have to make a few more trips. More trips meant more chances to get ripped apart.
Sylvie wasn't used to this part though. The aftermath of an apocalypse. She'd spent her time in the before, when anything you did wouldn't matter. Some part of her was waiting for the TVA to show up at any given moment, shackling her with another gods damn collar. Who would they take her to though? He Who Remains? Nah, she'd killed him (unless that was a trick, too). The Time Keepers? Bullshit. Renslayer? There was still the small child inside her who wanted to get back at Renslayer for taking her life from her, ignoring her when she asked questions, and bringing her to be judged. The whole damned system was flawed if a child could be put on trial like that.
A breeze outside caused the line of her shoulders to tense. When no clack of monster feet followed, Sylvie relaxed only a little. It was time to hurry things up a little.
Loki stepped around a fallen grocery cart as he made his way into the store. There was the eerie mark of recent disaster everywhere he looked. And the silence added an almost deafening dystopian quality to the entire world. Even normal grocery store products felt like something out of another realm. And for Loki that made it doubly unfamiliar. The produce had long since staled, leaving a rotten odor of mold in the air. And somewhere from the back aisle the meat had gone bad because of the constant flickering of the power.
He didnât have a list of things he wanted or needed. In that sense Loki didnât have a plan. Although somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized that he could be useful to some of the less powerful Derleth residents. He had a magical advantage when it came to being quiet and sneaking around. He could probably get supplies for everyone if he wanted. After recent events, however, he didnât know what he wanted to do. He didnât know if or who he wanted to help.
But that conscience he always tried to bury beneath multiple layers of ego and trauma? It knew.
Green beans. Loki knew for a fact that the campus didnât have any more of those. So he began scanning the aisles for the canned vegetables.
When he glanced down the candy aisle, however, he stopped.
Sylvie.
He felt like he should know her. She knew him, after all. And Loki wanted to know how. Almost desperately. If he hadnât died last week he would have been much more vocal about his intense need to know who she was and what their connection to each other was based upon. But his death, frustration towards Julia, uncertainty towards Fandral, and Sylvieâs persistent evasiveness turned him off from being too direct in his attempts to learn more. There was also that nagging suspicion that the normal approach wouldnât work with her. Loki had the impression she was too perceptive to be tricked into saying something she didnât want to reveal.
He couldnât talk. He couldnât make a noise. He couldnât acknowledge her until she looked at him. And when she did he merely raised a single brow.
When the shadow fell across the aisle, she turned. Sylvie's nostrils flared and her jaw set tight. She hoped that grinding her teeth wasn't loud enough for those damned creatures to hear. Though at this point, maybe it was just easier to give up, if what they said was true. That you'd just come back next week.
But Sylvie was a survivor who had literally been to thousands of apocalypses; she was not going to give up so easily.
She held her finger to her lips, because if there's absolutely one thing she knew, it was that Lokis — all of them — liked to talk. She did, even if she didn't like to admit who she was and had changed her name accordingly. For so long, every time the TVA showed up, it was Variant this, Variant that. It got to the point where she wasn't sure that she even remembered her name right.
Being in this place, with his face around every corner⌠Sylvie just remembered how she felt in the Citadel at the End of Time, faced with the repercussions of what she'd done. While she still believed that what she had done — taking out He Who Remains — was the right thing to do, she couldn't get over what she'd done to Loki seconds prior.
The kiss had been real. His words had touched her deeply. It was the first time since Asgard that she believed anyone truly cared about her. Yes, she was revenge-driven, but she also believed that the universe was chaotic and deserved to break free. It was complicated. Multiversal war was bad, but not as bad as destroying entire timelines and wiping out people's choices.
Part of her wished that this Loki knew her. Was the same one. She'd much rather have him know her and be upset with her for what she'd done, then this one who looked right through her. The other one saw her, believed in her, wanted to be okay, and to maybe —
No use thinking about that. This one didn't know, hadn't been through the things they'd been through. He was a different person altogether; he just had a similar face. That was all.
She held her hands out to the sides as if to say What do you want?
Loki wished he knew her as well. He wanted to understand what was behind that carefully protected expression, the one she gave him when they first crossed paths in the Green and the one she gave him now. It was intangible. He saw something there that was more than simple recognition. There was a fleeting glimmer of more in her eyes. A flicker that lasted a mere millisecond before being wiped away by her resolve. Loki knew that kind of look because he did it as well. For him it was a defense mechanism. A quick attempt to shoulder back his true emotions and present a different facade to the world. Thatâs how he withheld his feelings from people for so many years. Thatâs how he kept his secrets. How he buried his pain. How he pretended to be someone he wasnât.
Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly receptive to his own lies, he could actually look at that glamour in the mirror and believe it was real. Believe that the person he purported to be was true. That there wasnât a frightened little boy â afraid of being turned away, fearful that heâd never be good enough, angry, and jealous â hiding behind that gaze. Was it the same with this woman? Loki wondered.
But he didnât wonder too much. That had gotten him into trouble recently. Heâd looked into Juliaâs eyes and thought heâd seen a kindred spirit. He thought she understood him. He thought they were the same. He was wrong. Because as much as Loki pretended like he didnât have a soul or a moral compass, he did. And he was guided by it more often than he liked to admit.
Still, he had questions. Questions and doubts about Sylvie. Sheâd given him hints. Little breadcrumbs to follow. Part of him wondered if sheâd done that on purpose. Was it a test? Was she waiting for him to remember something? Or was she just toying with him the way others toyed with him? Maybe this was simply her version of a game. Something to pass the time and stir a little fiendish, but not unfriendly, animosity like Ikolâs game. Or maybe it was something more sinister and deceptive like the game Julia had been playing with him. Loki didnât know. But he was already paranoid from last week. And it was a constant battle in his mindâthe desire to know more about her and the desire to protect himself.
He didnât know why, but something in his gut told him that he needed to be careful of this woman. That she could be more dangerous to him than anyone else heâd met.
Loki took two languid steps forward. He looked at the bags of candy on the shelf. That was also a perilous game. Crunchy wrappers and plastic packaging. Another step. And another. It was deathly quiet. And Loki knew deathly quiet. It made him uneasy. It made his mind race. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, echoing in his head. Anticipation for how she would react this time and apprehension that one of them might make a sound.
He looked at her again. This time he took his time observing her features. The intense gleam in her eyes. The hard clench of her jaw. She was beautiful, but she was stern. Like there might have been a rage boiling beneath the surface. Loki thought there might be a softness there under the sharp set of her features, but maybe he just wanted there to be. She knew him. He didnât know her. She had the advantage. He was trying to figure out what she was to him in another world. A friend? An enemy? Loki really didnât want any more enemies. He already had to deal with his worst one everyday.
Himself.
His gaze trailed downward, stopping on that golden-hued piece on her breastplate. He wasnât blind and he wasnât oblivious. But there were some things he just wasnât ready for. And even the God of Lies was capable of fooling himself. If he wanted to badly enough.
He also knew better than anyone that appearances were often deceiving.
Loki reached out with the arm closest to the shelf. The intentions were murky. He might have been trying to reach for her or he might have been going for something on the display rack. His gaze never faltered from her though. And maybe that was where he made his mistake. He was so focused on her that he wasnât paying attention to what was going on around him. His elbow bumped a small plastic container of chewing gum. It tipped over the edge of the shelf and tumbled towards the floor.
No. He wasn't supposed to come this way. He was supposed to get annoyed, turn around, and head somewhere else. Then he would pop up on the network and poke her there. That was what she had assumed would happen, given the circumstances. Any word would prod the monsters and Sylvie had had enough of them. She just wanted to survive the week.
(She hoped it was just a week.)
Instead, he decided to come toward her, and Sylvie had not been prepared for that. She should have been. Not for the first time, she realized it was what she would have done in a given situation. If she thought about it from his perspective, it must be driving him mad. The not knowing. Maybe next time, he'd think twice before trying to play someone who was clearly not mentally stable.
Every atom in her body was flashing red and screaming WARNING. The warning itself was unclear, however. Was he bearing down on her like a predatory, a wild animal stalking its prey? Or another kind of predator? At least, because he was so focused on her face, he didn't notice her ready her hand in case she needed to do something more drastic. In case that wild animal bared its teeth to thrash her.
There was the tiniest of instants between noticing his hand reaching and his elbow bumping. That tiny moment revealed a softer side to Sylvie, one she had kept hidden from everyone except her Loki. She was reminded of the soft, almost surprised look in his face after she'd kissed him. Of the yearning. Of him seeing her and not just another Loki who needed to be dealt with.
But the moment, that softness, was gone the second she saw the bucket teeter and began its descent. Her hand, with her fingers already outstretched, glowed green as she reached out with her magic to catch the bucket before it fell.
Watching that small container fall from the shelf broke Loki from his stare. It cut through the moment like a stab of panic and he, too, flung his opposite hand forward, the tips of his fingers glowing a similar shade of green. But it wasnât necessary. Sheâd been quicker. Her reaction was less distracted. And her magic engulfed what would have been a noisy rattle of gum pieces if it had hit the floor.
Loki exhaled a breathâquietly, of course, but with a heavy tension behind it. The magic slowly dissipated from his fingers like dust in the air and Loki watched as she kept a hold on that container. He blinked.
She could do magic.
Asgardian magic, it seemed. What had she said to him when he asked if she was from Asgard? âLetâs go with that.â Was it as simple as that?
Magic wasnât uncommon on Asgard, but there was something he couldnât quite put his finger on.
He shouldnât have been surprised and yet, he was . Although he wasnât entirely certain what aspect of that performance surprised him. Was it the magic itself? Her quick reaction time? The way she held her wrist and spread her fingers to cast her power? The color?
Loki carefully plucked the gum container from its floating position in the air between them and gently set it back on the shelf, not quite as close to the edge this time. Then he raised both brows and lifted his shoulders in a sheepish shrug. Lips mouthed a somewhat comical âoopsâ followed by an awkward grin.
That had been a close one. Loki was definitely oh-for-two on first impressions. Or were they on their third impression now? It was difficult to say. She shut down their interactions almost as quickly as he initiated them.
Sylvie's face twisted into an ugly snarl. It was just like him to be so hyper focused on himself, on something he wanted, to forget about everything else. And then oops. Affable smile. Shrug of the shoulders. All's forgiven, right?
Once the bucket was back in its place on the shelf, she hazarded a jerk of her finger in his face. Accusatory. As if he was a student in class being naughty, and he hadn't put their lives on the line for what? Trying to peer into her soul? Trying to unnerve her? For half a second, she thought she might actually punch him in the face. Break that nose of his. She even went as far as balling up her fist.
All the while, she was listening so very carefully for any indication that the noise had attracted any of those creatures. She wasn't going to let her guard down now just because he was here. She'd given away her magic, something she hadn't been interested in doing for some time. There may be Lokis aplenty, but not all Lokis were the same.
Maybe they were.
Maybe she'd just taken longer to get to the betrayal than all the others because she'd been stunted. She wasn't learned. She wasn't finesse and grace. She was lesser. She wasn't the Sacred Loki on the Sacred Timeline.
(She was alive. She mattered. She had to.)
Swallowing her own pride, she lowered her hand, pressing her lips together. Then she fluttered her hand, as if to shoo him away.
The smile fell from his face the moment she jerked her finger at him. It wasnât that he didnât understand. She had a right to be upset. Heâd been careless. He should have paid better attention. But they were fine. No noise was made. They were safe. There was nothing to worry about.
Was that complacent of him? Was it reckless? Probably. Yes. But Loki was wavering in his sanity. Every week he got a little worse. Every week he woke up from the memory of suffocation and the bleak nothingness that followed and a piece of his mental resolve fell away. And then last week with Juliaâ
That had done a bigger number on him than heâd admitted to anyone. Himself, included. He was still reeling from that. Still hurt by her betrayal. Of breaking his trust in her. Well, trust. Had it even been that? Maybe he was just upset that sheâd hurt his feelings. Or that sheâd proved to him what heâd always felt about himselfâthat nothing was worth giving up the mission. That friendship, affection, love â ha! â werenât worth sacrificing oneâs own desires and passion and selfishness. Ego above all else. Because when you didnât put yourself first you ended up dead.
Or worse.
Broken.
Loki furrowed his brows and frowned. When he caught her glance he slowly mouthed a question. âWhy do youâ â he pointed to her â âdislikeâ â throat cutting motion â âmeâ â pointed to himself â âso much??â â all encompassing hand wave.
If only she had words right now, she could ramble off a whole list of things to say to him. For starters, he'd tried to trick her right off the bat, pretending to be someone he wasn't. She was just as angry at herself for that one; she should have known better. He tried to manipulate her feelings and worse still, kept poking at the sore spot. He didn't believe her when she said she was from Asgard. He didn't believe in her when she said she wanted to enchant the creatures.
She didn't hate him, didn't even dislike him. He just wasn't the one she wanted there with her more than anything else. Sylvie felt like she could get through anything if only that Loki was here with her. Would he annoy her? Would they argue and bicker? Yes, of course. They were Lokis; that was inevitable.
Maybe he wouldn't forgive her for what she'd done, but it would be someone who knew her. Someone who understood her. Someone who â
She wouldn't be utterly alone. Again.
Sylvie softened, and her features followed. She shook her head silently, mouthing the words: I don't. She lifted her hands, palms upward. Slowly, she mouthed. It's not you.
Lokiâs lips pursed into a thin line. His expression changed then. Before he was trying to figure her out. He was trying to see through her evasiveness and find the secret she was keeping from him. Because she did have a secret. And that secret did have to do with him. Well, maybe not him exactly. But it was related. And Loki felt as though he had the right to know.
Youâre lying, he mouthed back to her. And for a brief moment he almost forgot himself. He almost spoke aloud. Thankfully he caught himself beforehand.
Guh, why did she have to be so aggravating?
Loki turned away from her and crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe he was wasting his time. Maybe she wasnât worth it. She wanted to be left alone? Perhaps he should have indulged her wish. He was about to leave when frustration held him back. He whipped around in an âand another thingâ pose.
I didnât do anything â extra emphasis on that word as noted by the exaggerated hand waving â to you!
Her hands rose, fingers splayed out as she looked up. Not being able to talk made this so much more difficult, annoying, and exasperating. Then again, when had things ever been easy? Oh right, before the other Loki showed up, Sylvie was sweeping the TVA under the rug. Her plan was well in hand, and she was so close to being able to complete her mission before he showed up.
Sylvie rubbed one of her eyes with the tips of her fingers, feeling what she presumed would be a headache. Better look for something for that in case it developed into an even bigger pain. It was bound to, given the two involved.
How did you tell someone that they were not the Loki you expected (or wanted) when you couldn't speak? Wasn't that considered insanely rude? Did she even care?
You tried to trick me, she mouthed. Then she stood up as posh-like as she could, turning toward someone smaller (and invisible) and wagging a finger. Then she turned toward where she'd been and hunched her knees a little and lowered her head in shame. You â A finger pointed at him. Are not â A head shake. him.
That was true. Loki had tried to trick her. But could she blame him? Sheâd been in Derleth for a few days now. Would she have done any different in his situation? Maybe she would have. Maybe thatâs where Loki had gone wrong. Maybe he was the only one who resorted to tricks and lies and deceptions in order to survive. In order to gain the information he needed toâwhat? Be one step ahead of someone else? What good had that ever done him? It didnât stop Julia from killing him. It didnât stop him from feeling the way he did now.
Like an empty shell of a person.
Thatâs what he couldnât explain to Fandral. Thatâs why Loki told him to be cautious and to guard his heart against him. Because Loki didnât have a heart. Perhaps he never had. Part of it died with his fatherâs lies. Most of the rest followed his mother to Valhalla. And that tiny scrap leftover? That piece heâd given to Thor. The last good thing he ever did. The only good thing he ever did. He gave it to protect his brother from death. To give others the opportunity to succeed where he couldnât. Or where he wouldnât. Loki didnât know anymore. The truth was beyond him at this point. He just knew that if there was anything left in him of a person capable of being good and doing right, it was so minuscule it might as well have not existed.
And then Sylvie hit him with the truth heâd been waiting for.
You are not him.
What he felt when he read those words on her lips was difficult to explain. On one hand he was relieved. If it wasnât him then he didnât have to worry about being responsible for whatever he had done. He didnât have to feel accountable for whatever horrible pain heâd caused the people of his world. This other Loki was just another shadow. An otherworld imposter like Ikol. He just happened to look like him. Nothing more.
But on the other hand he saw the way she hung her head in shame when she spoke of him. Loki saw the way she emphasized the last word. Him. As though this other Loki were better than him. As though he were more important. As though he were the kind of person that someone else couldâ
Loki opened his mouth to respond, but no words formed on his lips. He shook his head and his shoulders sagged, weighed down by grief and weariness. By defeat. He didnât think heâd be hurt to learn of another him. After discovering his alternate Derleth self and after meeting Ikol, he didnât think it would matter. Because he was so certain about who he was. So determined in his own mind that, no matter what, he was the best version of himself. He was the real Loki. The only one that mattered.
Except maybe he was wrong. Because if her Loki could instill that expression in someone else, that strange mix of guilt and loss, then maybe he was the better one. Maybe he was the one whoâd succeeded where all the others had failed. Loki, included.
And that hurt. Because Loki had given so much and tried so hard. To what end?
He turned away from her. He was suddenly overcome by rage. Not at her, but at himself. He wanted to scream. His teeth clenched until his jaw hurt. His fingers dug into his scalp. He wanted to release all of his fury and frustration in a single blast of uncontrolled energy. He wanted to feel the ground rumble beneath his feet. He wanted to destroy everything.
But he had to be quiet. He had to hold it in. He had to lower his boiling temper to a gentle simmer. And while he might have been prepared to be devoured by those creatures it wouldnât have been fair to take her down with him simply because he wanted to throw a tantrum.
Loki straightened his posture. He didnât want to look at her, but he did anyway. His illusion wavered, showing both his hurt and resentment. Heâd lost. Sheâd won. He wasnât who she wanted. He wasnât who anyone wanted. And he no longer wanted to know.
Fine, he mouthed. Iâll leave you aâ
A heavy crash two aisles over cut him off.
Sylvie's head whipped to the side, and if anyone had been looking at them, it would have looked eerily similar. Almost as if it was practiced. Sometimes she forgot just how many common traits they shared. She'd spent so long trying to stop being the goddess of mischief, to stop being Loki, that tiny things always slipped through. Until recently, she just thought they were just part of her.
She reached over and grabbed his hand, then jerked him down onto the ground with her. There was barely a few seconds before a large creature with thick, leathery armor burst through the front windows of the grocery store. Thankfully for the pair, the noise was coming from several aisles over.
That didn't mean the creature wouldn't run them over on the way on the way to the sound. Also was there someone over there? Should they be concerned that someone else was in harm's way? Sylvie hesitated.
She'd already done something massively brave and stupid by killing He Who Remains, but opening up the multiverse meant that she should take a stand against anyone who would harm those people in the universe, right? That's what the Valkyrie would do. That's why her Loki had tried to stop her, to save other universes from all out war and destruction. Sylvie closed her eyes and scrunched her face up.
The creature was almost there.
She could help someone. She could do something good. Truly good.
Her hand lit up. She "threw" magic several aisles away, tossing whatever was on the shelf to the door. When you were sloppy with your telekinesis, it helped. Flick, topple, splat all the way to the front of the store and into the glass.
Loki felt like all of his reactions were delayed this week. It must have been a holdover from his death. His response time was off. It wasnât as snappy as it usually was. Neither was his humor, come to mention it. He was just in a fog. And if he wasnât careful that fog was going to kill him or someone else.
He needed to snap out of it fast.
When she grabbed his hand and pulled him downward it sparked a kind of momentary wake-up call in him. He had to stop mulling over the things that werenât working for him. The things that were dragging him down and keeping him confined to his old self and his old ways. He couldnât reverse the decision he made to protect Thor. He couldnât change his death at the hands of Thanos. He couldnât stop Fandral from having feelings for him or Julia from using him. But he could push those things far from the forefront of his mind. He could harden his heart to the past until he had better control over his present. Then maybe, with a clearer head, he could make better decisions for the future.
The creature burst through the glass and slid across the slick linoleum floor to the other aisle. Loki pulled his hand out of Sylvieâs grip and began crawling towards the edge of the shelves. While she used her magic to knock things over, he peeked around the corner to see if he could get a better glimpse of where the creature was and what had made the noise that attracted it. Nothing. Then the sound of running footsteps caught his attention. He jerked his head in the opposite direction and saw a woman â probably one of the surviving townsfolk â limping towards the back of the store.
Stupid people. Just like at Derleth. Why couldnât they simply sit still and hide?
The creature was distracted by the clamor Sylvie was causing. The first creature, that is. A second one had entered through a back doorway and began barreling towards the woman. If he didnât do anything she wouldnât stand a chance.
Loki scrambled to his feet and waved his hand in a circular motion. A bright green portal opened directly in front of the woman and she stumbled into it, disappearing to another location. Then he closed it with another wave of his hand, causing the monster to barrel into a display of rotten produce.
He glanced back at Sylvie and gave her an urgent come on! expression. Then he grabbed her tote bag off the floor and flung it over his shoulder. Meanwhile, the second creature turned to follow the sounds of falling food products.
Her brain went into survival mode, focusing on keeping the monsters distracted and away from them. Maybe she couldn't enchant them, but she could do other things to attract their attention elsewhere. She noticed their faces beneath tiny flaps of the armor. Beneath it, she could see what she assumed was an enormous ear canal. That must be why they could hear so well.
She wondered what could happen if you stabbed them in it.
But only for a moment. It seemed to have heard one of their footsteps.
Sylvie kept up the sloppy telekinesis, moving even further away from the pair while they ran. She dropped this and that, throwing empty displays into the ceiling, leading the second one on a wild goose chase as he couldn't find purchase for the noise.
All this noise felt so incredibly loud to her now. Only three days in, and she'd already grown accustomed to silence. She spent her life on the run, so there was no discernible difference. She just had to figure out different ways to trick them. Distractions seemed easy enough â make enough noise, and they were fine chasing it.
The first one didn't even need to shake off its produce fall. It stalled there, though, as if trying to assess what it planned to do. Sylvie did the equivalent of a child using his arm to shuffling everything off an entire shelf â bags of chips, oddly enough â one by one.
Meanwhile, all she could think was that she didn't need his help. She heard his voice in her head, you're so weird, before she realized that some things just seemed to be replaying themselves between them. She was going to need to be more careful.
Loki had forgotten why he was at the store in the first place as they ran through the aisles, trying to keep their footsteps light whilst Sylvie used her magic to throw distracting sounds in misleading directions. There must have been an easier way to do this. He could have opened up a portal to Derleth and thrown her bag of supplies through, but that came with the risk of sound on the opposite side. And it was no use saving themselves if that came at the expense of the people on campus.
He followed her down the aisle, around a corner, down another aisle. He caught a glimpse of something out of the hook of his eye â oh! thatâs what he wanted! â and carefully snatched a can of green beans from the shelf, deftly placing it in the tote bag as they dashed to the next aisle. He should have practiced silent spells before heâd left Butler Hall for his little solo adventure. Should have. Hindsight was always fifty-fifty. Alas, Loki didnât often think of the simplest answers to situations. Therein perhaps was his downfall. He always tried to complicate matters.
Like when he first met Sylvie and tried to lie his way to her truth. He really needed to learn better.
The first creature appeared to be distracted. Loki glanced at Sylvie as she used her magic. There was something enchanting about watching another person cast spells. She had a style that was less refined than his own, but it still had a certain panache. It was a little chaotic and the actions rough and exaggerated, but it seemed fitting.
Why did he think that? He didnât know.
He stepped on a loose bit of linoleum. The tiniest squeak cut through the air. And within seconds the other creature came barreling down the aisle towards them. It reared its claws as it scrambled, the protective sheath on its head opening as it released a shrill caw from its jagged mouth.
Loki didnât have time to think. He created a portal without really thinking of where it went. Anywhere had to be better than right here though, right? Then he lunged towards Sylvie, grabbing her by the waist, and tumbling them both through the portal just as the creature swiped.
"Oof!"
They rolled together through to the other side. It was absolutely not quiet, but Sylvie didn't know how to keep them from making noise. Those things were going to get them. They were going to die in this weird post-apocalyptic world. It seemed fitting somehow that it was him who brought this one about.
When the momentum stopped, she realized she was lying on top of him. Her breathing was laboured, and she realized that her face was way too close to his.
Awkwardly and with next to no level of grace, she dislodged herself by slipping one leg between his before realizing that this was an insanely dumb way of doing this. However, now that both of her legs were between his, she was committed to it as she squirmed her way down to her knees. She almost let out an exasperated, embarrassed sigh when realized that meant she'd have to put her hands on his legs to push herself up. Instead, her entire demeanor had changed into something a whole lot more unsure of herself.
She looked around suddenly, straining her ears for any of the creatures. What kind of room was this? Where was this? Was it getting hot in here to anyone else?
Loki held onto Sylvie as they rolled into the small room. The tote bag spilled its contents all over the floor in the process and when they finally came to a stop, Loki held his breath, waiting for one of those beasts to devour them. But there was nothing. Nothing but the frantic beating of his own heart and the heavy breaths between them. Well, and his gripping hands which had somehow managed to slip down from her waist to her hips, and maybe part of her buttocks, during their tumble.
He didnât even realize how awkward or uncomfortable it was until she started to move away from him. He tried to help at first by repositioning himself and his hands, but that only made it more clumsy and embarrassing. So he let go of her and left her to figure out her own way off of him. Cue his very inelegant and flustered expression when she slipped her leg between his.
Loki blinked, turning his gaze downward. Okay, that was a little inconvenient with his leather pants and completely unintentional. He shifted his hips a little because he was oddly arched toward her. Which didnât do anything to diminish the very provocative looking position they were in. But he didnât feel aroused, per se. Why was he soâOh! He reached under his back and removed the can of green beans that had rolled beneath his lumbar region. Then his back stretched more normally as he lay there. Less pelvis jutting. Less lascivious looking. But still absolutely awkward.
Maybe if he didnât look at her it would help.
He glanced about the room. It had a musty odor. Like a cellar. It was familiar, but he couldnât quite place it until he saw the oboe lying in the corner and the scattered music sheets on the floor. Aha! They must have been in the basement of the theatre. He vaguely recalled the practice rooms from his first week at Derleth. Back when heâd tried to scout out all of the places.
Loki looked back at her. She was still kneeling in front of him. His cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink. Then he whispered, âDo you need help or should IâŚ?â
Sylvie hoped for a Time Door to open up and swallow her. That would be a great deal less humiliating than sitting on her knees at his feet. She'd take a pruning to get out of this. A Time Collar even. Too bad they couldn't rewrite time to the point he'd found her in the shop. Just not deal with this at all.
She sank further onto her heels when she realized that nothing was coming. There seemed to be some sort of sound dampening on the room; she could hear it in the strange way there was no echo for such an empty room. Maybe it was soundproof?
Maybe she didn't want to find out.
She kept her voice low. "I'm fine," she replied a little too quickly and quietly. She brushed her clothing off. The shop hadn't been a pillar of cleanliness, but Sylvie was used to that.
"Where are we?"
âLooks like one of the music rooms in the Derleth theatre basement,â Loki replied, his voice low and hushed. It was probably the softest his tone had ever been. Calm, too. Then again he had to sound composed. It wasnât easy to be aggravated without being loud. At least not for Loki.
He scrunched up his face in a moment of disappointment. âNot exactly sure how I picked this place. That wasnât the plan. Maybe I need to practice more.â
A slight pause. âAt least we didnât end up inside a wall.â
He tried to offer a humorous grin. It had been a joke of sorts. He wasnât that reckless with the portals Julia had taught him. But they were still something of a new skill. And heâd never tried making one on the fly like that. Not without enough time to think and prepare. It made him wonder where heâd sent that woman from the grocery store. Hopefully not the moon.
When Sylvie hunched back near his feet, Loki slowly slid himself backward away from her knees, and sat up. The room was still when they didnât speak, but he didnât trust the space to be soundproof. So when he began picking up the fallen food products and candy bags he did so with extra caution, gently setting them back in her tote bag. One by one.
Loki chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. He wasnât sure what to say or do. He supposed the polite thing would have been to get up and leave her alone as sheâd wanted him to do back in the store. But he was plagued by a nagging guilt at the back of his mind.
âI apologize for trying to deceive you when we first met.â There was more explanation behind those words. More excuses to support his reasoning. Heâd been overwhelmed by recent events. Ikol. Fandral. Julia. Juliaâs taunting shade. Lack of sleep. Petty bickering with the heroes. So many reasons why heâd lied to her. Why he pretended to be the man she knew. But giving her a reason didnât feel appropriate. Regardless of his motives, it had been wrong to do. So he stopped with a simple apology. Knowing full well, of course, that there was nothing simple about it. âI shouldnât have done that.â
Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. His soft tone combined with the apology (and the lame joke) reminded her so much of the Loki she knew that her heart gave a terrible lurch. Sylvie missed him so much more than she could put into words.
I just want you to be okay.
"Thank you," she replied in a hushed tone that was barely an actual sound. The apology felt as real as one could get. There was no attempt to explain himself, no if or but, just a simple apology followed by acknowledgement that he shouldn't have done it. Unfortunately, Sylvie's ability to trust was so crushed and broken that she doubted that she'd ever be able to fully trust another person.
Hel, at this rate, she couldn't even trust herself.
She was also waiting for the inevitable question of how she learned magic, why was it green, who was she, and how did she know another Loki? The people here seemed to have a concept of alternative universes at least.
Sylvie got to her feet slowly, carefully. Maybe this room was a dampener, maybe they were taking their chances by talking at all. At least they were on campus. There was no long trek to the campus from the town. If he could do that kind of magic, maybe she could too. She didn't feel like taking her chances though, especially after his joke about sending them into a wall. Not funny.
"I should â " She pointed, instead of finishing the sentence, before reaching for her bag. She was still straining to hear anything outside of this room. She just didn't trust it to be soundproof.
Apologies didnât come naturally to Loki and yet he found himself offering them more and more frequently as time went on. Heâd heard an old saying once about how an apology could lift a personâs spirit. How admitting oneâs guilt could remove the burden of regret from the shoulders. Apologies could make a person feel better. But apologizing didnât make Loki feel better. If anything they made him feel worse. Instead of relieving him of his shame, they pushed him deeper into the pit of his own despair. Into that wallowing place where he relived his mistakes over and over again.
But at least they didnât make him feel weak. Vulnerable? Yes. Uncomfortably seen? Absolutely. But not weak. Not anymore. Ten years ago he would have called himself a coward for apologizing to someone for a little white lie. But now he knew better.
Well, a little better.
Loki sat on the ground for a few seconds longer before quietly drawing himself to a stand as well. She wasnât wrong in her thoughts. He did have a lot of questions. So many that he didnât know where to begin. But the less they spoke the safer they were. The safer everyone was. And, truth be told, Loki wasnât ready to know the answers to the questions he had. It was too soon. Too close to a trauma he hadnât quite processed. And her answers may have made his already precarious state of mind worse.
But that didnât mean he wasnât thinking about them. In fact, one question in particular continued to roll around his thoughts.
Who was he?
Who was this other Loki who had clearly had such a profound effect on her? Loki still couldnât figure out what their relationship was. He could only go off of the fleeting glimpses in her eyes, the subtle changes in her face, and the strained tone in her voice when he came up in conversation. And while Loki could hesitate a guess, he couldnât know for certain what his alternate self had meant to her. They could have been anything. Friends. Enemies. Lovers? That last one felt unlikely to Loki, but he wasnât sure. Love was an emotion heâd always struggled with.
Love was âŚ
Pain.
⌠confusing.
But was that to say it was confusing for another version of himself?
You are not him.
He winced at the memory of those silent words. And then he found himself wanting to apologize for something else when he looked at her. He wanted to apologize for not being him. Because whoever he was, he was important.
And what Loki wouldnât give to be important.
He nodded when she pointed. Now would have been a good moment for a witty comment or a halfhearted joke. But Loki didnât have anything.
Well, maybe one thing.
âBe careful.â
Something was different about him than the first time she'd seen him. There was something almost defeatist in his eyes, and if she didn't know any better, it would have reminded her of the way Loki looked the second she put her hand on his chest to blast him backward through the Time Door. That look, it seemed, was going to haunt her here as well.
Truthfully, she'd been running on empty since Roxxcart. Everything that happened after wasn't a blur of memories, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd actually gotten a decent night's sleep, enough to eat, or any sort of downtime. It had been go-go-go from the moment she pressed the button to launch all those reset charges.
Then, whatever emotional connection came with Loki had brought a new kind of fatigue with it. It made her raw and on edge all of the time. She softened with him, because she thought she'd found a kindred soul (she had!) who understood her mission. Whatever He Who Remains said had gotten to him and to her, she saw in retrospect. That man, or god, or whatever he wanted to call himself, knew exactly how things would play out. He knew what he wanted.
I'm tired. And I'm older. I'm older than I look. This game is for the young, the hungry.
Sylvie was just so tired. She was tired of running, tired of scheming, tired of plotting to avenge a life that had forgotten her. She knew there was no easy solution to this, that killing him would fulfill her life's goal and make everything magically better.
She was out of her own rude or snappy retorts. She gave a slow nod, looking him in the eye before faltering just a little with a quiet, "You too."
And then she disappeared quickly and quietly out of the door.