#ill be on the lookout for any clips and moments you guys have then

[finnitesimal]

Glad to see the pissa alarm system in my inbox still works

[writingthingsisdifficult]

I found you

What happens when you find out that you’re Loki’s soulmate?

In my head everyone’s alive.  Warning for cursing. Also for me not having English as my first language. First time writing Loki too. Or anything Marvel, really. 

Hope you like it. Let me know if you do :)

Word count: 8789

______________________________________________________________________

I should have known better than to venture into the archives that today; my premonitions have been acting up for days. But I ignored the signs, and now I keep staring at this photo, ears ringing with shock. I would have missed it if I hadn’t stopped to admire his sharp features – it’s not secret I think he’s attractive. Hell, even the guys in the compound think that.

If this is true, I’m in so much trouble… but there really is no mistaking it. The mark on his wrist – partially obscured by a trailing sleeve and only visible because he’s banging on the glass – is clearly the twin to my own. Not to mention the painful longing in my chest whenever I look at his face or hear his voice on the interrogation tapes. I haven’t met him in person yet, and I doubt I ever will. He is a known terrorist who has tried to kill and or enslave humanity after all, even though they say he’s reformed and isn’t in the business anymore. At least that’s what Thor says, but he always believes the best of his brother.

No one knows where Loki is at the moment. Not even Thor can find him – not that that means much; Loki’s had a lifetime learning to hide from him.

I didn’t think much of it at first. The pull in my consciousness and the black pinprick in my chest were weak enough that I just thought I was exhausted. Constant threats to the planet you live on will do that to you. But as the time passed I only got worse, so I arranged a little visit to the lab where both Tony and Bruce ran a bunch of tests I don’t even know the name of – under supervision of Dr Cho and Stephen Strange. Such an odd collection of geniuses. It’s a wonder they didn’t kill each other.

It was Helen who first realised my condition was soulmate-related after Tony suggested PTSD and anxiety as a half-joke. Everything clicked in place then. But I mean, I was embarrassed as hell. Couldn’t look any them in the eyes for a week after… I’m a grown woman; I should be in control of my own destiny. But Fury made me swallow my pride when he had an assignment for us all, and when we got home Natasha and Tony apparently made it their mission to help me out.

Tony wrote a little algorithm to scan for my soul mark, and Nat pestered me continually for information. But they found nothing. It’s not so strange, really, since my apparent soulmate is a master of disguises – he’s probably out there having the time of his life as a boa constrictor or something. Man, the stories Thor tells when he’s in the mood. CRAY-ZEE!

So how did I find out I’m knee deep in shit thicker than a southern accent? Well, I was looking through a couple of old files, trying to find a pattern to a new phenomenon we’d just discovered when I came across screenshots from the surveillance tapes from Hamburg and there it was. His mischievous grin and the blurry lines on his wrist… If I didn’t already get tested, I’d run to the infirmary so fast I’d probably trip over my own feet and smash my head on a sharp edge or something.

My heart is beating unnaturally fast, and every time I focus in on his face, it skips a couple of beats. And it that isn’t enough: my mark itches and tickles whenever I’m thinking about him, which is basically continuously. I’m feeling both ill and exhilarated at the same time, I hope I don’t throw up. The archivists will kill me if I ruin their precious system.

As the truth sinks in, I’m flailing for a solution, even though I know there’s nothing I can do about it. You can’t just un-soulmate someone, and I definitely can’t ignore it now that I’ve found out. People go crazy for less. But I can’t stay here. Thor might find it amusing, and Bucky might not judge me – much, but the others? Imagining the looks on their faces makes me dizzy. They will be disgusted. No, I can’t stay. I have to leave. Fuck.

In a flash, I’m on my feet, power-walking through the halls to my room. Once I’m in the elevator I can’t stand still, tapping my feet and my fingers. Thousand thoughts ram my brain all at once, and I don’t know how to shut them off. I’m lucky most of the others are on a mission right now. I don’t know what I’d do if I met any of them in the hallways.

I slam the door behind me, grab the nearest backpack and start throwing random shit in it. My brain is working overtime, and I can’t seem to focus, but at least I’m awake enough to stop myself from stealing a car and flee straight away.

I hoist the backpack up, securing the clips over my chest and hips. I thinkI’ve gotten everything, and I’m about to leave when there is a soft knock on my door. Crap. Not now. I try to calm myself down before I open the door a tiny bit so whoever’s outside can’t see the mess in my room.

“Oh. Hey, Wanda.”

“Hey, Y/N. You okay? I heard you slam the door.” She looks genuinely concerned, and for a second I’m worried she’ll try to enter my mind, but she has sworn she will never do that again, so I push that thought away.

“Uh, yeah,” I reply a little too quickly. Forcing a smile onto my face, I shrug and tell the first lie that pops into my head. “I, uh, just really had to pee, so I lost my grip on the door handle, you know. Didn’t mean to slam it like that.” Wow. That was almost believable.

Wanda nods, but I can see the suspicion lingering in her eyes. “Alright. You will tell me if you’re upset, right?”

This time it’s me who nod. I feel guilt stabbing my chest, but I can’t tell her. Not now. She won’t take my news well. “Of course,” I add. In my own ears it sounds false, but she seems satisfied, and returns to her own room.

This is a complication. She will be on the lookout now. I can’t sneak past her. So, what are my alternatives? If I leave my things behind I could probably crawl through the vents, but I don’t like cramped spaces and besides, I’ll probably run into Clint somewhere in there. The hallway is out of the question. I sigh. Guess I finally have to face my fear of heights. My room is only on the fourth floor, and there’s fire stairs going all the way down, but it’s still higher than I would like.

I tip-toe to the balcony, opening the door as quietly as I can. It’s silly of me. No one’s really expecting me to sneak out, and it’s not forbidden to use the balcony at all. But I’d rather they not knowing I’m gone before I’m far away.

Swallowing my fear, I carefully reach my foot down onto the top step. Suddenly I jerk back, and I swivel around, ready to tell Wanda to let me go, but it’s only my backpack caught on the railing.

Letting out a shaky breath, I continue, one step at the time, careful to keep to the shadows and out of sight from the other windows. The rest of the descent is without further problems, but I’m still relieved when I’m finally on solid ground again. From here it’s a short run to the garage, and then… gonna have to steal a car after all, but knowing Fury they’re probably full of tracking devices. I’ll have to ditch it somewhere along the way.

_______________________________________________________________________

There is a bright flash, and it keeps playing before my eyes. My head is swimming and I stumble around, flailing and trying to find something – anything – to grab onto. If only the world would stop spinning!

One hand grazes my forehead, and it’s almost painful enough to stop me in my tracks, but not quite. It feels like I’m on fire, but my brain is polite enough to tell me, through short and incoherent sentences, that this is to be expected when one is being hurled into the sun.

It’s getting darker. Each flash grows dimmer, and my shoulder bumps something hard. It’s flat, and it’s not moving, so I dare open my eyes for half a second. A fuzzy hallway comes into view. The light is fading fast now, and my legs make their own decisions, taking me all over the place before steering me with full force forward. There’s a loud crash and a thin creaking that sounds so far away. Someone is muttering, maybe it’s me, I don’t know, and then everything grows dark.

_______________________________________________________________________

The goddamn ELEPHANT in the hallway is making so much noise it’s difficult to concentrate on the book. Even magically sealing the flat doesn’t help much, so with a deep sigh and flickering flames in his eyes, Loki carefully sets it aside and moves silently to the door. He flicks the flap covering the spy hole away and peers through. There’s nothing there, but he senses a presence of sorts.

The hairs on the back of his neck rise. Have they finally found him? There’s no time to flee, and Frigga’s voice whispers in his ear, to fight, to go down with honour, to allow himself an end fitting of a Prince of Asgard.

It only takes a couple of seconds to decide, but when the door rattles with force, his resolve strengthens. He yanks it open, knives in hand, echoes to the side, ready to fight, when a body collapses into him. He stumbles back, supporting the woman as he does, making the door slam shut.

He lifts her gently into his arms, not sure where this sudden concern comes from. She’s a total stranger, but somehow he’s overcome with the need that she should be safe. He’s not sure he likes it.

_______________________________________________________________________

Something cold is pressed against my forehead, and it lessens the dull thump a little bit. I lean up and into it, but it pushes back.

“Shh, don’t move.”

I try again, and this time a hand pushes down on my chest, holding me in place.

“You really shouldn’t move; that’s quite the bump on your head you’ve got there.”

My body jerks suddenly. I still feel like I’m submerged in flames.

“You’re shaking!” The owner of the voice feels my face again. “Hel! You’re burning up! What…” There’s a short pause. “Ah. This is what you mortals call a fever. I was starting to worry. But a fever we can work with. Lie still, please.”

What feels like an ice-blanket descends over me, and I drift off with the silky smooth voice swirling in my mind.

_______________________________________________________________________

The pressure in my ears lets up a bit, and it feels easier to breathe. The coolness on my face feels so lovely and I lean into it with a content sigh.

The surface moves and I frown in my half-sleep, but it soon returns, caressing my cheek and neck. And as my consciousness returns in full, I open my eyes. The light is too bright at first; I can’t see anything, but then a face swims into focus. Initially I can only see the dark hair falling in waves over broad shoulders, but then… keen, watchful eyes, sharp lines, and a mouth bearing a mischievous smile.

“Loki?” It feels like the world shifts under me.

“I will not hurt you.”

Of course he doesn’t know who I am, so naturally he tries to look both calm and harmless. He can’t have a panicked person running around in his home, or worse: outside. It’s not difficult for me to believe his promise.

He helps me sit up, and though it’s thrilling to feel his hands on me, I’m too dazed to do anything other than give him a faint smile. The movement makes me queasy, so when he lets go, I grab an armrest for support. “Thank you,” I offer weakly.

“You’re welcome.” It looks as though he wants to say more, but apparently he changes his mind. After a long silence, he asks: “How are you feeling? Looks like you had a run in with a rhinoceros. While I quite like the beasts, I don’t think mortals would fare well from an encounter.”

“I’m okay, I guess. A bit bruised, but nothing is broken. At least I think so.” I move my legs tentatively. No problem there. My right arm is fine too, but when I try to lift my left arm, pain shoots white sparks from my shoulder. I hiss loudly.

He moves to examine me, but something makes me flinch. I’m not ready yet. He holds his arms up and back away.

“Sorry,” I whisper, looking down at my shoes. “It’s not your fault.” This is silly. I shouldn’t be afraid of him touching me.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he offers with a smile. “You may know who I am by name, but we are still strangers. Will you allow me to tend to the bruises and cuts on your face?”

I nod, steeling myself for the pain, but his touch is light and nimble, his skin cool. I find myself leaning into his hand.

“You crashed through my door,” he begins. “Bloody and beaten, half dead by the look of it. What did this to you? Who…” He cuts himself off, and he looks properly confused; he definitely did not expect to be this invested. A few seconds tick by, just enough for Loki to regain his composure, but his fists keep clenching and unclenching.

His voice is much calmer when he asks again. “What happened? I need to know so I can figure out how to deal with these…” He gestures to my bruises, but there’s a tremble there, like the emotions are just kept in check. But if it’s sorrow or rage or something completely different I can’t say.

I think for a bit, trying to picture the minutes before I woke up on Loki’s sofa. It’s just a big blur. There was someone there, I was struggling to free myself from a pair of arms pinning behind my back, but it’s all in shadow really. But I do remember fumbling for something to defend myself with. There was a… “The portal,” I blurt out, and Loki looks even more confused. “I… I must have pushed a button or something before I… stumbled. Fell. Whatever. I think it dissipated once it was used, though.”

Loki gets up in a hurry, knocking a chair to the floor with a lout clatter, and all but sprints out the door, except he doesn’t sprint, he powerwalks, and I surprise myself by finding it endearing.

Moments later he returns, a relieved smile on his face. “You were right. The portal is gone, and there is very little residue. I tried to open it again, but its source seems spent – permanently closed,” he adds to the benefit of my confusion.

“There are several types of portals. Some acts like doors that has to be summoned to fulfil certain demands, others…” his voice is eager, and I would love to learn more about the magical properties of portals, but I feel pretty tired. In fact, I am, and I can’t hide the grimace when a particularly sharp pain shoots through my shoulder.

In a second he’s next to me, supporting my weight and pressing his cold hand to my forehead. “Maybe it would be better if you lay down again.”

I shake my head. “I’m good. Just need to, to relax. Please, continue.”

“I wonder,” Loki says with a pensive look, then falls silent.

“What?”

“How you found me. This place is warded. No one is supposed to find me here, let alone stumble over me accidentally.”

Oh, I can think of a reason, but I don’t voice my theory, it’s too early and Loki hasn’t really shown any definite signs that he’s happy I’m here. Instead I say: “Like in Harry Potter?”

He looks at me, an amused smile lurking in the corner of his mouth. “Something like that. My point is: you should not have been able to find me at all. Even my oaf of a brother –“

“Hey!” I just can’t let him talk ill of Thor. “Your brother is a sweet man. He always made me laugh, and he was really upset when you disappeared. You know, he’s out looking for you every day. So yeah, he’s kinda like a big, bouncy sheepdog but he’s not stupid.”

Loki looks a bit taken back, like he wants to ask me if it’s true, but I know he’s a master of appearance, and my heart aches for him. From what I’ve read in his files and from the stories Thor told us, I understand why he’s so closed off.

“Never mind,” he says after a while. He looks me up and down as if he just noticed me sitting there.  It’s clear he’s not unaffected by my presence, but he plays it cool. At least he’s not threatening to throw me out. Yet. “I expect you wish to clean up? And then perhaps you would join me for supper? I had planned to dine in silence, but since you are injured, you might as well join me.”

My stomach flips, and then his first question registers. My face burns. He can probably smell me from where he’s standing, too. “So much for a good impression,” I mutter as I hurry after him.

“This way.” He leads me through the bedroom to a large, decadent bathroom. I stare in disbelief. How has he managed to find a place with such space and luxury here, but then it hits me: magic. It probably wasn’t like this when he first moved in.

“Towels are in the cupboard to the left. There’s soap and, uh, shampoo in the shower.” His voice draws me out of my reverie, and I nod. “Right,” he continues. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Once the door clicks shut behind him, I waste no time shedding my dirty clothes on layer at a time. The socks all but flies off. My plaid shirt as well, but it hurts more with every movement and when the time comes to pull the t-shirt over my head, a lightning shoots from my shoulder, blinding me momentarily.

I stumble and crash into the wall, knocking things off the shelf and making a general mess of things. The pain has me reduced to a whimpering heap on the floor.

The door opens and the cold air sends shivers through me. Loki’s hands are gentle as he lifts me back on my feet, and I swallow my embarrassment as he helps me pull the shirt off.

Reaching for my arm to examine my shoulder, he stops mid-movement when he notices my mark. His eyes flick from it to my face and back again, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. I think he’s gonna say something, when suddenly he whirls around, rushing out the door, leaving me both shocked, confused, and more than a tiny bit hurt.

Thinking about it, I don’t blame him. I’ve had four years to come to terms with it. Up until a few moments ago he had no clue what we are.

I remove the rest of my clothes slowly, careful to not rip open any cuts. Loki could probably heal them with his magic or some Asgardian ointment, but I really don’t want to push him right now. For fucks sake, we only met a few hours ago.

The water pressure is perfect, and after a couple of minor adjustments, so is the temperature. Why does he keep the water so freezing? Oh. Right. I feel like a moron now. This is going to take some getting used to. I mean… he’s not even human. Wait, is he? Like a different species of human? I was so preoccupied with finding him that I never stopped to think about that. My mind fills with new questions I never thought of before as I work the shampoo into my hair.

Will he get sick like an ordinary human? Can I spread disease to him? Influenza? The cold? Or maybe he is immune. Probably, but I don’t know. I doubt anyone really knows. Jeez, I should go buy a notebook and write these things down so I can ask him later. If there is any later. What if he doesn’t want me the way I want him. What if… are we even compatible? I mean, I don’t even know for sure how his body works.

With all these what-ifs swimming around my head, I step out of the shower and reach for a towel. It’s so soft I stand still for almost a minute just pressing my face into it, stroking the towel like I’m a lunatic. Eventually, though, I dry off and wrap another towel around my hair. It takes me a couple of seconds to realise that my torn and dirty clothes are gone, replaced by a pair of black sweatpants and a dark shirt with green stripes.

Smiling to myself, I get dressed, savouring the feel of soft materials and the discreet smell of the fabric softener. This is exactly how I imagined his clothes would smell, and I’ve thought about it a lot.

The shower did wonders for my sore muscles and injuries. It takes almost no effort at all to comb through my hair, and looking in the mirror I deem myself almost presentable now.

When I emerge from the bathroom my stomach is churning; meeting Loki for the second time, trying to make a better impression – while wearing his clothes… It’s ridiculous! This whole situation is insane!

I find him in the living room. He’s standing with his back to the door, but I’m pretty sure he knows every movement I make. Deciding we have all the time in the world, I take a couple of moments to look around.

There’s bookshelves on all four walls, absolutely laden with books. Some look really old, too. A teacup rests on a low table in front of a grey sofa, a half eaten biscuit on the saucer. In one corner, under an old-fashioned reading lamp, sits a well-used leather recliner. A book is lying face down on the seat.

The light from the window falls on a huge, dark green kentia, and despite the unease in my chest, I feel a smile tug on my lips. Loki definitely isn’t as cold and heartless as some of the reports I’ve read said.

I approach him like you would an injured animal. He’s standing by the window, arms crossed over his chest. It looks like he’s spying on the neighbours, but I’m not even sure he’s looking at anything at all.

“Loki?” I try to keep my voice neutral, but I can’t hide the hint of insecurity and fear that leaks through. Hope he doesn’t misunderstand.

It takes a few breaths before he reacts. His shoulders move up and down, up and down. And then he turns. Slowly and on the spot. There’s a gleam in his eyes I’ve never seen before.

I take another step, but stop when it looks like he’s gonna bolt. Here we stand, watching each other, wondering… my heart feels heavy. He doesn’t want me. Of course he doesn’t. He’s a… what is he, exactly? A demi-god? It’s of no consequence. He’s my soulmate, and the one thing I want more than anything in the world is to hold him close, and that’s just what I can’t do.

Second by excruciating second ticks by. He’s observing me, calculating. Suddenly, he slides up close. He takes my arm and holds my mark next to his. As they almost touch, they light up, like shining mother of pearl; greens and golds flicker over the skin in a sort of unchorepgraphed dance.

Loki looks up into my eyes. I can see a thousand questions forming. A spark, something new, before his face closes again, and he turns from me. It hits me then: he is just as confused and insecure as I am.  I reach out: touch his shoulder gingerly, hoping I haven’t read him wrong.

He slumps forward. “How…?” he whispers, probably more to himself than me. “I… I’m not… I’m a monster…” Trailing off, he tries to step away again.

“Loki,” I repeat, tightening the hold on his shoulder. “Look at me. Please.”

He does, and I feel our souls spinning around each other, weaving and melting together. I don’t know what to say next, but he must see something in my eyes, because he pulls me close and buries his face in my hair.

“I found you,” he whispers, sounding like he doesn’t believe it, like I’m gonna disappear if he stays silent. “I found you.”

“No,” I whisper back. “I found you.”

When he finally lets go, the vulnerable expression is gone again. Old habits, I guess. He looks at me for a long time, like he’s trying to decipher every secret I’ve ever had. Eventually he smiles, a big, genuine grin, and says: “I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, It’s Y/N,” I sputter, wishing I could be a bit more suave. But no. He’s gonna have to take my awkwardness too.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he says, and my face heats up again. How come I’m so easily flustered when he looks almost unfazed by this? He looks me up and down. “It must have been a rough day for you. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Very well. There is this wonderful restaurant just down the street. What do you say we place an order and get to know each other better?”

I swallow and nod, trying desperately to look like the woman destined to be by his side. But the way he speaks to me has my insides on fire. Maybe it’s the soulmate thing, or maybe it’s just been too long, but his every word feels silky smooth on my skin, and the pull in my chest shifts, sliding to my core. I swear I can hear myself sizzling.

_______________________________________________________________________

“We must find out what did this to you. Something happened, and if you could only remember –“

“Well, yeah, obviously something happened,” I reply, slurping my noodles and trying hard to suppress the eye roll that’s fighting its way to the surface. The ache in my body is making me impatient. “I didn’t do this to myself.”

Loki gives me sort of an annoyed smirk. He’s not used to being talked back to. “Obviously,” he mocks. “What isthe last thing you remember, then?”

I close my eyes and think back. It’s hard to concentrate when he’s so close to me, but I remind myself that I can’t continue to be awestruck by him. Doesn’t stop the weightlessness in my stomach, though.

Flashes of colour and movement and smells pop up in my mind, but nothing recognisable. I go further back, tracing my movements since I left the compound. For a moment I’m struck by how much I miss them all, but I also know I can’t go back. At least not yet.

A computer swims into view. The screen shows a picture of… My eyes snap open. “I was doing research,” I say so suddenly I startle him. Soda sloshes over the brim of his glass.

“On what?”

Yeah, that. I know I shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but saying it out loud is mortifying. “You.”

“Me?” The question comes out like a sharp chuckle.

Nodding, I grimace to try to hide my shame. “Mhm. You know, because of… of this situation.” I gesture to my soulmark then vaguely wave in the direction of his hand. “The… hm-hm… soulmate-thing.” It feels weird saying it out loud. Like I’m a sham.

“Right.” Loki absentmindedly closes his hand protectively over his wrist.

“I was, I was trying to find you.” Obviously. It’s harder to explain than I thought. What I want to say is: “I want to be with you – you have been in the back of my mind since I learned of your existence. You are my world.” But what I dosay is: “Figured it would be nice to, you know, meet you and… you know, get to know you, and all that.”

I feel like an idiot. Why can’t I be articulate and smart and a better match to Loki’s intellect? He must think I’m an imbecile.

“A logical thought,” he replies, but he doesn’t sound sarcastic. “Then what happened?”

“Um… I was knocked over the back of my head. I think. Someone… took me? I think I remember a car ride. It was bumpy. And loud.”

That seems to worry him. “Do you know who? Or why?”

Shaking my head hurts a little. “No. Sorry. Just… the button and tumbling through the portal.”

“That’s okay. We will no doubt uncover more pieces to the puzzle along the way.” He stuffs an entire dumpling into his mouth. “Ang ou gow by boher?”

I laugh out loud. “What?” This whole situation is absurd. What am I doing? Oh nothing, just having dinner with my soulmate who I just met, and he’s already talking with his mouth full of food. So domestic I’m tempted to check if I’m dreaming.

Swallowing, he picks up another dumpling, stopping before he puts it in his mouth. “And you know my brother.” It’s not a question any more.

My heart sinks. He’s not going to like my affiliations, but I can’t lie. Not now. “Mhm. All the Avengers, really. I’mkindaanavengermyself.” I leave it there, hovering like a mayfly over water.

The dumpling slips through his chopsticks. “Oh.” To his credit, he regains composure a hell of a lot faster than I would have done. “Then I apologise for trying to… subjugate you some years ago.” He says it with a wink, but there’s sincerity behind the joke.

“You’re forgiven. I think,” I joke back. “But I wasn’t on the team back then. I only joined a couple of years after the… incident. Someone told Fury of my powers.”

He tilts his head a bit, eyes bright. “And what are those?”

“Well, it’s not powers as such,” I say, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “But I have some precognitive abilities.”

Loki blinks and freezes with the chopstick halfway to his mouth. “You’re psychic?”

I shake my head fervently. “Oh no, not at all. I can just… sense… if something bad is going to happen. It is quite useful on missions; more of a heads up and keep on your toes kinda thing. But I never know whatis going to happen, it’s more of a gut feeling –“ I shut up. My stomach flips and I would write it off as the food, except for the slight change in the air. It’s too minute to put my finger on, but it’s there, and the feeling grows denser with every second. Shit!

“What is it?”

“It’s… I don’t know. Something is wrong. My estimate is three minutes by the feel of the surge in the air.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The window explodes, shards of glass scattering over the floor. The only reason I’m not impaled on them is Loki’s quick thinking. He shoved me under the table, sliding in after me, and he’s hunched over me, shielding me with his body. His armour clatters as it appears, covering him from head to toe.

Several people jump through the shattered window, crashing onto the kitchen floor. Some tiles crack from the impact. Black combat trousers over shiny, black boots surround the table, and my head spins. How… What do they want? I look up at Loki above me, and try to convey a heartfelt apology through my eyes alone. I brought them here. I should never have come.

Loki shakes his head slowly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. As his helmet grows, he moves with superhuman speed. The table flies through the room, taking at least three swat team members with it before it smashes into the wall.

“That’ll get Mrs. Davis in number four grumbling,” he says with a big grin. “Oh well, she’ll forgive me. She always does.”

Is he often attacked in his kitchen? I can’t do anything but roll my eyes as I straighten up and fall into a fighting stance. Even if this is an everyday occurrence for him, I’m going to do my best to protect him. All the hours in the compound gym are going to pay off now.

The madness is shining in his eyes as he flings a hand out; releasing a dagger that finds is target without trouble. His ease with killing is oddly comforting right now, and I am slightly shocked. But I don’t get many seconds to contemplate this new side of myself. One of the intruders descends on me, forcing me to take action. Grabbing the nearest thing I can get a hold of, I swing my fist around, slamming a decanter in his face. It’s probably worth a ton of money, but I doubt Loki minds, as the man shrieks in pain. A large shard sticks out from his cheek, just below his goggles. Hot, red blood is streaming down, staining both his jacket and my shirt, but I don’t feel sorry for him. I twist around, kicking him in the knee, sending him to the floor with a sickening crunch.

I risk a glance at Loki. He’s fighting like a cornered predator. Our attackers have some sort of shield or protection against his magic, and he has to resort to old-fashioned close combat. It’s a chilling sight.

The walls are creaking with each hit, plates and glasses and cutlery smash to the floor, creating an ear-splitting din that almost takes my vision away. That fraction of a second’s distraction is enough for one of the soldiers to grab my hair. Grunting, I try to twist around, but his grip is too strong, and with a flick of his hands and a soft kick to my shin, he forces me to the floor. A piece a glass cuts through my jeans and stabs my knee, and I whimper like a lost puppy, kicking myself internally for letting him get the upper hand.

The soft sound from me makes Loki stop what he’s doing. His dagger is stuck in his opponent’s kidney, but he loses his grip when he spots me on the floor. And just like that, the fight is over. Three soldiers clad in black camo advance on him, holding some sort of electric spears on him.

“Don’t,” I start, and is immediately shut off by a knife to my throat. Its sharp edge is balanced perfectly on my skin; stinging, but not drawing blood. I swallow hard.

A new man strolls into the kitchen from the living room, stepping unfazed over the bodies of his writhing and dead colleagues.

“Well, well… what have we here?” he asks, and I huff a scornful laugh at his so very villainous entrance. “Loki and his…” He looks at me. “…Unfortunate lady friend. You should have taken our advice. Instead you run straight to him. What were you hoping for, huh? Were you hoping to tame the savage?”

The man spits in Loki’s direction, but Loki doesn’t even flinch, though his face hardens ever so slightly. I doubt anyone but me notice. It’s kinda nice to see him strain to keep control of himself. I bite my lip to punish myself for thinking like that.

“Get out of my home!” His voice is icy and would send most men running. It’s a credit to these people’s training that they’re still standing and not sprinting down the road with their tails stuck between their legs.

The newcomer ignores Loki’s seething rage. “You will come with us, Master Silvertongue. Ah-ah,” he tuts, gesturing to my captor. He pushes the knife harder against my throat. The sting sends ticks to my eye, and I try hard not to swallow again. “Do as we tell you, or the girl will suffer.”

“Do as you wish, I care not.”

The man barks a laugh. “They call you the Liesmith. But you don’t fool me. We’ve already done our research.” He grabs my hand and twists my arm so that I almost fall forward. My eyes fly open. The fabric tears with a loud rrratch, exposing my soulmark. It’s still glowing faintly.

Loki’s eyes flicks from the man to me and back, and it’s good to see there’s still some fight left in his eyes, and his lips curl into that mischievous smile I’ve come to love. God, it’s really gone that far. My heart thumps loudly, and I feel my face prickle with the realisation that I won’t get the chance to fall in love with him slowly like a normal person. Trust me to go all in all at once.

The soldier keeps me pinned to the floor, grovelling like a commoner in court. Every time I move, pain from my knee shoots up my spine and erupts in bursts of colour over my eyes.

Forgotten memories flits in and out of my consciousness, and a voice rings in my ear, blocking out the incessant taunting and blathering. I don’t even flinch when one of Loki’s daggers imbeds itself in the cupboard with a loud thwack. You will be the one to bring us to him.

As the soldier behind me kicks me in the back, I can’t even groan in pain; the realisation hits me like a freight train, and I lift my head to look at Loki fighting for his life; for mine… This is all my fault!

For a brief moment our eyes lock together. I quickly look away so he doesn’t get distracted, but I know it’s too late. A loud groan and a thump make me look up again, and the sight sends chills down my spine.

Loki is kneeling, a mirror image of myself, and he is bleeding from his temple. Defeat and defiance glows in his eyes, and I know that he knows. His eyes soften and my insides turn. They shackle his hands and pull him backwards to the door, a lot less gently than necessary.

“I will find you again,” I croak. Something hard hits the back of my head, and the floor comes rushing upwards. The last thing on my mind before the void swallows me is “I promise.”

When I wake up, I wonder why my face is smushed against the floor and how much I drank to warrant this level of a hangover, but when I move to wipe the sleep from my eyes, my hand comes away bloody. My left eye is so swollen I can’t open it properly and everything hurts.

Hesitantly I feel my nose. Relief floods me when I find it not broken. But lying face down on the floor with my ass up in the air has left it bruised and sore.

“Fuck!” I don’t really have the words, but I curse the pain and the world and the people who took Loki from me even before we could get to know each other.

_______________________________________________________________________

I hesitate. Pick up the phone and dial the number, then hang up for the fifth time. It’s clear I need help, but the tiny voice in the back of my head keeps reminding me that they don’t like Loki. They reallydon’t like Loki. But they like me, even though I left abruptly four years ago and have barely spoken to any of them since.

Steve sends me updates from time to time, and every few weeks he shoots a message begging me to come home, but I just couldn’t. I feared the day they’d find out the truth. And that day… is propelling towards me at an alarming speed. Might as well get it over with. If I’m lucky they’ll help me before disowning me. Wait, is it really disowningwhen the family in question isn’t blood related? I slap myself out of the distraction. It doesn’t matter. The universe has already dealt my cards. It has been decided, and I may not like it, but there it is. I have to play the hand I’m given.

With a shaky thumb I dial the number again. The green button looks like a great big danger sign, but this time my resolve holds. The phone rings two times before someone answer.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice is equal parts relieved and worried.

“Hiya, Cap,” I reply, feeling incredibly small. I try to keep my voice light, but it’s impossible to conceal my desperation. It’s been years since I’ve talked to him, and I’m so nervous I could puke.

There’s voices in the background, someone’s dragging a chair over the floor – probably Tony, I think before swallowing that hard lump in my throat. I’m really doing this. Now.

“Hang on,” Steve says and there’s a sharp beep. “You’re on speaker.”

“I’m impressed you know the right button,” a voice shoots, and I smile despite myself. I miss Natasha so much.

Steve scoffs and mutters something unintelligible. Multiple voices laughing. Great. The whole gang is there. My heart is beating so hard I can feel my sweater move.

“Y/N, you there?”

“I’m here,” I whisper shakily. “Fuck, I miss you guys so much!” There. It’s said. Whatever comes next at least they know it’s not their fault I left. Stupid universe.

“We miss you too, kid. Come home.” Tony sounds uncharacteristically vulnerable.

I shake my head as if they can see me. “I can’t, sorry. Not yet,” I add, even though I should say not ever.But that’s too much right now. I don’t even want to think about it, so I try to sound confident. “I need help.”

“Anything!”

They wouldn’t be so eager if they knew what I’m about to ask for. My eyes start burning, and I rub them hard. The prickly sensation is replaced by a dull ache and thousands of kaleidoscope stars.

“I might… might have to hold you to that. I…” I sigh. “I don’t know how to begin.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, before Nat interrupts.

“This has to do with why you ran away, right?”

Ran away.As if I’m a child running from strict parents. But she’s right, of course. She always seems to know what’s going on. There’s a pointed silence on the other side.

Clearing my throat, I study a bloodstain on the floor. It’s dark brown and almost perfectly round. It doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels real anymore. “Sort of, yeah,” I begin. My voice is hollow. How do you go about explaining to your family that you’re in love with – no, more than that: irrevocably tied to a guy who has tried to kill them on more than one occasion? Gently, or rip off the band-aid?

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes and bang the back of my head on the wall. “I found out who my soulmate is... It’s Loki.” I grimace, waiting for the inevitable outburst of disgust from the other side.

There’s silence, then a loud “Aww, shit.”

“Hey, Clint.”

“Hey, Y/N. When are you coming home? Ow!” There’s a soft thwack. Someone, probably Natasha, has hit the back of his head.

No one says anything for a while. The only sound heard is the rustling of paper, a scraping chair, and something that sounds suspiciously like a giggle.

I’m getting antsy. Someone needs to say something. “Um, guys?”

“Yeah, yeah, uh, we’re still here. Just… had to settle something.” Steve sounds smug. “So. What do you need?”

What? This is not the reaction I expected. “Uh… you still want to help me?” I wince from my own voice. It’s so small and terrified, and it makes me disgusted from myself.

“Still want to… what the hell? Y/N! I thought you knew us better than that. You’re family.”

“But…” I can’t bring myself to say it out loud, but my thoughts spring to the fight Steve and Tony had when we found out Bucky was still alive.

“We’ve grown since that,” Steve answers to my unspoken thoughts. “We’re older and wiser now.”

“Speak for yourself, Captain Senior Citizen,” Tony injects, making everyone laugh.

My head is spinning.

“What do you need?” a quiet voice repeats, and my heart aches. Of all the people on the team, Bucky is the one I miss the most. He’s like a brother, a twin, almost, and I miss the comfortable silences between us. My heart bleed with guilt that I didn’t think I could tell him.

My voice cracks from the fear and sorrow and homesickness. “They took him. They took him from me and I couldn’t stop them. I need to find him, I need…” My voice trails off, leaving me in a bottomless pit of terror and what-ifs.

“Of course,” Nat says, and I picture the glance she sends to Clint. She knows how I feel. “I’ll come pick you up. The jet is ready for take-off.”

Smiling sadly to the phone, I shake my head. “Thank you. But I’m… I’m not even sure where…”

“We know where you are,” Tony says.

“What?”

“This is Stark we’re talking about,” Steve explains with a tiny chuckle. “Did you really think we’d let you wander off without backup?”

I don’t know whether I should be offended or relieved, so I laugh with him. “But how come –“

“Figured you wanted to be left alone,” Clint says. “And since you don’t like climbing the vents, well… We always have your back.”

Three hours later Clint greets me happily as I step out of the elevator. I’ve missed his hugs and positive pessimism.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you again,” he says as he lets go, keeping a firm grip on the coffee pot he’s using as a mug.

“You too,” I sign with a grin, wincing slightly when the smile tugs on a cut under my lip. Nodding to the coffee pot, I add: “Good to see nothing has changed.”

He tries to sign a reply, but spills coffee all over his shirt. “Aww, my coffee…”

I can’t help but laugh. “You know, if you drank it like normal people you’d probably have a lot less stained shirts.”

He looks between me and his shirt. “Well, when you say it like that, I feel a little stupid.”

Bucky is leaning on the wall when I enter the kitchen. One leg bent and his arms crossed over his chest. If I didn’t know better, I’d be scared. But skilled as he is in… assassinating people, he’ll never hurt me or anyone else he considers his family. When he sees me, his face lights up, but as I come closer, he scowls.

“Who did this to you?” His voice is low and menacing, and he reaches out to touch my black eye. “Did he –“

I shake my head frantically. “Calm down, Bucky. Loki would never – they did this. The ones who… who…” My voice cracks, and I can’t finish the sentence.

Bucky pulls me into a warm hug, and the moment my face hits his chest I start bawling. Every fear, every bit of frustration, all the anger I’ve swallowed the last few hours comes flooding out. I’m powerless to stop it. “What if… they kill him?” I sob, sniffing hard and almost inhaling Bucky’s shirt.

He stiffens for a brief moment, then relaxes again. “They won’t,” he says, sounding so confident I almost believe him. “If they wanted him dead they would’ve killed him on sight. Trust me.”

_______________________________________________________________________

We’re all gathered in the briefing room. Wanda looks at me, seeking permission to do what I’ve already asked her to. I nod again, and her eyes start to glow. My mind is whisked away in a red whirlwind. Images and pieces of conversation float to the surface before dipping back down. It hurts to be restrained like this, but I’ll endure anything if it can help me bring Loki back.

When she lets go of me, I collapse, and I would have crashed to the floor if Steve hadn’t been there to catch me. He lowers me gently into a chair, and someone hands me a glass of water.

As Wanda describes what she saw – she’s considerate enough to leave out all the irrelevant stuff – the rest of the team gapes. I don’t hear it all, but I catch enough to understand that there’s a vigilante group that consists of former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and that they’ve been after Loki for years. Something about bringing him to justice.

“I’ve heard about these guys,” Clint says and everyone turns. He fakes bashfulness and toes the floor before continuing. “I hear things. When you’re up high people tend to forget you’re there.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Bruce mutters, and I nod to him.

Clint scratches the scab off a cut on his nose. “They’re supposed to be shut down. According to the guys in the administration, S.H.I.E.L.D. nipped it in the bud before they could even meet up for the first time.”

“Well, apparently not.”

“And now these men has my brother?” Thor booms. He’s eager to get out there and find Loki, and for that I’m grateful. At least I’m not completely on my own in this. It’s just that we don’t know what we’re dealing with. If they’ve gotten their hands on portal tech…

_______________________________________________________________________

“Stand back!” Nat attaches the explosives to the wall while Bucky and I take cover. Thor takes a step to the side.

Ten seconds later the corridor lights up in an impressive display of yellows and oranges. I have to close my eyes to not go blind. When the spectacle dies down there’s a big hole where the wall once was, three guards on the floor, covered in rubble, and a very dusty and very confused Loki standing in the middle of the room. In one hand he has a dripping dagger. The other dagger is imbedded in the back of one of the guards.

“Brother!” Thor bellows, bounding over the piles of concrete and steel. Apparently one of the guards is still alive, because he lets out a muffled yelp as Thor steps on his stomach.

“Hello, Thor,” Loki greets coldly. He acts annoyed, but we can all see he’s pleased to see him again. “Get off me!” he grumbles when Thor picks him up, swinging him around like a child, sending dust flying everywhere.

Loki’s eyes are fixed on me the whole time, so I do the first thing I can think of: I give him a little wave, feeling slightly like Scotty in Star Trek when he can’t do the Vulcan salute.

“My apologies,” Thor says, following Loki’s eyes. He shoves him in my direction. “That was selfish of me.”

I try to tell him that it’s okay. We’ve got all the time in the world now that we’re together again, but my voice is gone. Only Loki exists at the moment.

“Ahem.” Bucky clears his throat, bringing us both out of our reverie. “You do know that if you do know that if you break her heart all of the Avengers will rain fire and sulphur over you, right?” He gives Loki his signature death scowl.

Loki nods once. “I would expect nothing less.”

Nat grabs my hand to get my attention. “Um, guys? Clint says he’s ready with the quinjet. We better hurry. The place will be crawling with guards soon, as much as we all love fighting, we’ve got a schedule to keep.”

“Yes, Mom,” I tease, sticking out my tongue, but I’m ready to leave.

Climbing back over the fallen wall, we hurry through the long, winding corridors; Bucky and Natasha in front, and Thor making up the rear guard.

Suddenly cold fingers entwine with my own. Heart in my throat, I glance over to my right. Loki’s eyes are glittering, and he’s smiling from ear to ear. “Hello,” he says quietly, lifting my hand to his lips. The kiss is brief, and soft, and sets off sparks in my belly.

“Told you I’d come find you,” I reply, slightly out of breath. I’m not sure it’s because we’re running.

_______________________________________________________________________

Because you asked for it, I’m tagging you:

@river-alice-wolf @oatballsoffury @80percentmarvel @kybaeza @tardis-is-mine @darkforestbl0g and also @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte , because I tag you in all my stories.