04. Start anew some place

That night Naz had to run to Loki's room after the first screams. She was a light sleeper and had been dreaming of deep emeralds and vertigo-inducing heights but the minute she heard him cry out, she was up from the couch.

She found him asleep, screaming in some horrible nightmare from which he couldn't wake up. His cries were in a foreign language but the emotion was easy to understand. She shook his shoulders roughly, "Loki, wake up! It's just a nightmare."

But he wouldn't wake up. Caught in some dark recess of his mind, his wrists were bloody with his subconscious attempts to break free. He was shivering and whimpering and Naz did the only thing she could think of. She slapped him, hard.

That woke him up. Sitting quickly, pushing away the covers as if they were burning him, he didn't even take note of Naz until he had tried, with the difficulty of his handcuffs, to claw off some imaginary objects away from his body.

"It was a nightmare," she said softly. "Don't worry. I'm here. You're fine now."

He started at the sound of her voice but when his eyes adjusted to the dark, following the moonlight falling across the woman who sat, anxious, by his side, his heart seemed to unclench. He could breathe again.

They were silent for a very long time after that. He sat against the headrest, breathing loudly, his body racked with shivers.

Finally, he raised his hands to touch his cheek which was still burning from the force of Naz's palm, "Did you slap me?"

"You weren't waking up," she answered with a gulp. "I'm sorry but I didn't know what-"

"Thank you."

The apology spoken in a tired, grateful voice came out of the darkness and caught her unaware. She relaxed slightly, looking around the room for the chair only to find something unfamiliar in place. Her clothes were neatly folded and placed on the chair. Her books were stacked back into the bookshelf by the bed in alphabetic order? Her shoes were neatly aligned against a wall. It made the room seem alien, as if her presence had been flushed out. She liked the original disorder, it made sense to her in a weird sort of way. This room was all she had had in a long time. A room of her own. It had seemed a luxury after all the years she had grown up, in crowded rooms fighting for a space that could be called her own and now even that seemed encroached upon. She knew it was stupid to feel it but she did; a feeling of being cut out of the fabric of her own life.

She turned back to Loki who was eyeing her with a curious gaze again. She had noticed that look in his eyes often. In fact, that was how he usually looked at her. As if she was some very irritating specimen who wouldn't work according to some hypothesis he had framed in his mind. She transferred the clothes to the floor and dragged the chair to his bedside.

"You organized my room," she stated as she sat on the chair. It was a statement. It was all she allowed herself to be selfish about. Just four words and she would move on. No more reproaches about something as insignificant as a change of décor.

He said, "It irked me. Just like how you do, you stupid mortal." But of course, Loki couldn't allow even those four words to pass.

"I like it how it was but I suppose we got to share now," she was annoyed at how the conversation was going. She wanted to ask him if he wanted to talk about whatever it was that had upset him so much. She wanted to be kind and caring as her heart told her to be but there was something about this tired-looking man with pale skin that dared the moonlight to touch it and deep hooded emerald eyes that seemed to alternately fill with hatred, self-loathing and confusion. Something that made her lose control, something that pressed her to do or say something that would elicit a true response out of him.

Right now, he looked fragile in his sweaty clothes that still had tears and bloodstains. His dark circles hadn't receded even though the black eye was fast discolouring. The scar across his nose and lips wasn't as swollen as before. His mouth was set in a stubborn grimace, as unforgiving as his eyes.

And then it hit her. He wanted to get under her skin, to make her angry, to make her shout and scream at him, to demand answers, to go out of the room while he battled his monsters alone.

She raised her head and pointed to the right side of the room, "That side is yours." She pointed to the other side, "This side is mine."

"I'll be gone after tomorrow," he commented dryly.

"Until then, then," she said. If he wanted to be stubborn, she was going to be no less. She settled in her chair, resting her feet against the side of his bed.

"Go away," he mumbled, laying down again and pulling the covers over his head. He didn't know how long he lay like that, listening for her receding footsteps but somewhere along the line, her even breathing, the fatigue of the last few days of torture and travel, his bruised bones and a combination of aches that encompassed his whole body dragged his eyelids close.

It hadn't even been two hours when he found himself locked in chains as burning lava engulfed him, Thanos' voice ringing in his ears as Frigga stood before him disowning him for his weakness, for his monstrosity.

He woke up, disoriented but thankful to have been shaken awake. He tried to breathe but his throat was raw and every gulp of air burned its way down just as the lava had burned away his flesh, eating into the bones. He wondered how long he had been screaming as the image of Frigga shouting disgusted words at him materialised into the scene of his bedroom.

He was finally aware of the other voice. The voice which was speaking slow but strong and he had to strain to make sense of the words, "...fine. I'm here. I'm here, okay? Just breathe. Everything will be fine."

He frowned through the haze of scorched breaths. What was Thor doing there? Who else could it be? No one talked to him with such unconditional care and love. His eyes wandering crazily about the room finally found control and turned to his side just as he realized he was gripping someone's hands tightly. Or maybe someone was gripping his hands tightly. He couldn't make sense of any of it.

The voice was pleading now, "Don't strain against it. You're bleeding. I promise, I'll take them off. I'll do it as soon as it's light."

"Naz," he croaked, finding her beside him, face pale with worry, her eyes huge with dilated pupils and concern.

She was touching his face now. Pushing back his hair, wiping his face with her sleeve. "Loki, Loki!"

He wanted to ask her what she was so relieved for, why her eyes were lined with tears, why she was still here. Why, why, why.

He managed a watery smile. Anything to stop her from looking as if he was about to die. "I'll hold you to it."

She leaned forward, bringing her ear closer to his mouth, "What?"

"I'll hold you to it," he repeated. "Tomorrow morning..."

She gripped his hands tighter, trying to make sense of his whispers.

He felt like laughing. He didn't know why exactly. His body was on fire, rocking with shock and pain. Someone was scared out of her wits for him. It was a serious situation. Then why did he want to laugh? Maybe, he thought, I am going crazy. He nodded at this realization. He was going insane. Such a simple thought but it made everything clearer. The attacks where his mind lost control of his body, the pain, the nightmares...Thanos might not have broken his resolve but he had broken his mind. Maybe it was good thing. Maybe Cosma wouldn't work through him now. A new life. Three words that held so much hope. He could leave once he had explained his madness to his brother. Start anew some place.

"Tomorrow morning," he repeated, struggling to keep his voice steady, "you take off these handcuffs."

She nodded, "I will."

Mortals and their impossible promises. So quaint.

Naz also realized that she was still holding his hands and began to pull away. Loki was ashamed by how his fingers didn't even wait a second before tightening around hers. She understood though.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered.

And somehow he believed her.

This time, however, he swore he wouldn't fall asleep. Nothing was worth those nightmares again. They stayed like that, him on his side, facing her; her sitting on her chair, watching him, her hand locked between his hands.

An hour passed and he had to jerk open his eyes from falling to sleep. He checked with the woman after realizing they were still holding hands. Something akin to relief washed through him at her presence.

She was still awake and when their eyes met, she gave a small smile.

The small gesture shouldn't have prompted any response from him but it did. To his horror he found himself blushing deeply, wondering what the hell was happening to him.

Naz followed his eyes drop from hers to her lips, back up at her and then flit away. She was the curious one now but if anything was common between them it was their tendency to leave important questions unasked.

Instead she asked something else, "What's your size?"

That caught his attention, "What?"

"Clothes size," she pointed at him as if to imply his royal robes were past their expiry date.

He didn't answer, he didn't know.

"Fine, I'll measure you up tomorrow and buy you some decent clothes. Force you to take a bath too."

He scowled but it was more out of habit rather than a real reaction, "Anything else?"

"Maybe I'll braid your hair," she giggled. "It's pretty."

His eyes were closing when he mumbled, "Huh. So is...yours..."

She had just begun to shift her numb fingers for circulation when she felt it. The hum of something like electricity inside her and she was awake, wide aware now. Totally aware of the sleeping figure who was now connected to her. Right before something hit her right temple, she speculated whether she should have woken him up the second it had begun.

Truth be told, she never had a chance. It was within fractions of seconds that the feeling she had experienced earlier in living room recurred and another vision hit her.

Loki realizing his true parentage...hatred, denial, hatred, pain, betrayal, self-hatred, suicidal impulses, a need to prove to himself this wasn't happening, that he wasn't-he couldn't be the monster everyone hated, a monster even his beloved brother hated...the sound of Odin's footsteps...

It felt like being submerged under water and Naz had never learnt to swim. She felt every ounce of Loki's pain and betrayal, every thought inside his head as he speculated what-what in the world could he do to compensate for what he was.

And now, he stood there, body shaking with anger as one clear thought pressed against his mind, red, searing hot against his whole life. Why?

His screams and demands rocked through her mind. It was as if she was dreaming but she knew she wasn't really. She was so aware of everything, as if she was both a participant and a bystander, a conduit for his thoughts, his memories.

Resignation as Odin told him he had never been more than a clever war strategy for the future...Never a son, only a human treaty to unite the kingdoms...Fear as he saw Odin fall...whirls, whirls of emotions and thoughts, muddling against each other and...

For a brief moment, she slipped back into consciousness. Into the room; his fingers, the chair swimming into focus and then she slipped right back into darkness, a welcoming darkness that promised a retreat from whatever it was that was happening to her.

---

When Loki woke up the next morning, at first he couldn't remember where he was or why his throat felt like paper and slowly as he blinked away the stars that were flashing across his eyelids, last night returned.

He tried sitting up and he was suddenly conscious of her. He lay back as he took stock of Naz sleeping with her head tilting to one side, mouth slightly open, body curled in an uncomfortable pose on the chair, her right hand still in his hands.

For the longest time, he did nothing. Just lay there, cherishing the feel of her fingers in his, memorizing the calming way in which she breathed, his own breaths becoming coordinated with hers, as he decided that he didn't hate her.

As far as mortals went, she was really...-he couldn't think of a suitable word-...nice?

Maybe he would have been content to stare at her, piecing together an easy argument as to why she wasn't so bad if he hadn't seen the bandages around her wrists. His Jotun form, he remembered. It had surfaced on its own last morning and as usual he had ended up hurting someone. He recoiled at the flashback, letting her hand dropped. She shifted in her sleep but didn't wake up, probably tired from last night.

He got up quickly. When he came to her side, he realized that the idea that had driven him beside her-of transferring her from the chair to the bed-had been a flawed one since it hadn't accounted for his handcuffs.

A shackled animal, that's what I have become, he mentally groaned.

He whispered, before walking out of the bedroom, "I'm sorry."

That day she bought him clothes from a second-hand store. The clothes were preceded by a very awkward conversation.

"No, you have to go take a bath so that I can burn those clothes," Naz had said after breakfast.

Loki hadn't even looked up from the Sudoku puzzle he had snatched from her, "I'll be out of your hair by tomorrow. So, no, I can't be bothered."

"Will you never take a bath ever just because we won't meet after tomorrow?"

The question or rather what its second half indicated riled him and he nearly tore the paper with force when he noted down the last number into its respective square. The little bit of joy he would have felt at completing a puzzle she had just taught him rules of crushed under his retort. "Thanos will probably just kill me anyway."

In the silence which entailed he was forced to look up at her. Her expression made it clear she hadn't considered the possibility.

Her voice was child-like when she said, "Th-that's not going to happen."

He laughed without humour, "Right I forgot death would be too little a punishment for me after everything I have done to foil his plans and I am apparently the key to the universe itself. No, you're right. It will just be endless torture."

She pulled him up by the wrist and he couldn't help but notice how she was trying to not let it show that she was avoiding touching his skin.

"Another vision?" he queried, interested. "Saw me getting dished some just desserts at the hands of Thanos again?"

"I wish you wouldn't disguise your trauma like that," she said quietly. "It's not healthy."

He was so stunned at this frank assessment that he didn't ask further but dwelled on her words. Trauma. Disguise.

He listened without attention until he heard her say, "-I mean, I know you're the God of Lies and all that but-"

She stopped and looked at him with embarrassment, "Shit, is that disrespectful? Or am I allowed to say that since it sounds a bit badass and all? Or not? Okay, I'll just shut up."

He laughed, for real this time, "You are allowed to say it since it sounds a bit badass and all to you."

The emphasis was lost on her as she stood lost in the beauty of his laugh, a clear, genuine one that lit up his face in such a way that even his cuts and bruises couldn't hide the soul that peeped through.

"Uh why are we in the bathroom?" he asked, realizing where she had brought him.

"You're taking a bath," she stated. "Now strip."

He reddened tremendously, "W-what?"

She blushed as her words replayed in her mind, "Um, I mean, I'm going out while you strip-I mean, while you take a bath."

"These handcuffs will electrocute me," he called after. "Which, by the way, you were supposed to take off by now."

"Working on it," she said, disappearing behind the door. "Oh wait, don't get naked yet." She stepped back in with a plastic bag. "You're right. You might get electrocuted. I'll fix this around your fancy handcuffs."

"They're not my fancy handcuffs," he grumbled. "They're your friend Stark's."

She finished wrapping up the metal around his wrists, "You're sure you don't want bandages for your wrists. They seem to be healing very slowly."

"Please, mortal," he scoffed, "I'm a God. I don't do bandages."

She rolled her eyes and walked out. She hadn't even walked five steps when his head peeped out at the door.

"Could you-" he gulped, "could you help take off my jacket?"

"You're not naked down there, right? Then I'll help," she laughed and walked back inside the bathroom.

Loki shrank back involuntarily when she stepped close to unbutton his jacket. Holding his breath he moved up to her, willing her not to ask why.

She didn't. Instead she proceeded slowly, placing a tentative hand on his jacket. He realized she was much shorter than him now that they were standing so close. She barely reached his shoulders. He hunched down slightly as she reached for his the button on his collar.

"You're short," he commented.

She looked at him, taken aback by how close their faces were, mere inches apart, "Uh, yeah..." She cleared her throat, "But only comparatively. I mean, you are a giant after all. You and Thor both."

He tore his eyes away from her, "I am nothing like him."

They had to cut away some parts of his jacket to get him free and when she helped him out of his undershirt, she let out a gasp.

His body was coloured with red, blue and purple welts and bruises.

His eyes followed her hand as it reached for his chest as if to pat away the colour or maybe feel the reality of the gruesome picture? He caught her hand.

"Don't. Leave."

She nodded, knowing just where his words separated.

He fell back against the tiled walls as the door closed behind her, thinking that this day couldn't get any more confusing.

The day hadn't ceased its strangeness though.

They had just sat for dinner-pizza which Loki definitely liked-when he turned around, sensing something. "There's someone here."

They stood up as something crashed beside them. It turned out to be someone actually, two someones to be precise and in a glance, Naz was pushing aside Loki's protective figure.

"Tony!"

Tony lay on the carpet coughing and mumbling as the other guy took off his helmet.

Loki pointed to him with accusation, "Did you just enlarge from nothing!?"

"Mr. Loki," the man gave a weak grin. "Heard you were on our team. Nice to meet you. Haha, oh you don't know me? I am the Antman, of course." When he didn't see any sign of recognition on Loki's face, "Oh c'mon man, they didn't tell you about me? Scott Lang, anyone?"

Naz turned around, "What happened to Tony?"

"He took a beating and broke his leg," Scott looked apologetic. "Nasty business, I heard the crack. I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to take him now that..."

Tony finished the sentence for him, wincing at the pain shooting up his leg, "-now that Stark Tower has fallen."

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dedicated to my lovely friend, quinn arrowheads for that fantastic gif banner up there, thank you, love!

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So, I am here at my aunt's place for my cousin's wedding currently and its super cold but also super fun except for the fact that I don't have wifi I cryy but  I managed to find some internet and give you guys some #NAZLOK action. Who's aboard this cute little ship, say aye? Next update soon <3