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themurphyzone · 4 years

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PatB Oneshot: Eurydice

Summary: An alternate scenario for the Halloween episode, loosely based on the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice. Mr. Itch strikes a different deal with Brain. If Brain can make it to the surface world without looking at Pinky, the contract will be voided and Pinky’s soul will be returned. And failure is not an option.

Beginning AN: I posted this idea on Discord a month ago and I’ve wanted to write this scenario ever since. I love the Halloween ep so much…so how about some whump? I am not kind to our favorite mice at all, just a heads up. Also there is a serious lack of fics over the Halloween ep. It's prime material for angst.

Big shout out to @plutonis who listened to me cry over torturing these poor mice over DM.

FFN Link

Contract

I, the Brain, hereby agree to a challenge against Mr. Itch, Proprietor of Wayward Souls and Master of Hell, in which the winner shall receive Pinky’s soul. Should Brain win this challenge against all impossible odds, Pinky’s previous contract in which he agreed to submit himself to hell’s eternal torments in exchange for Brain’s dominion over the surface world shall be voided and destroyed, and he may return to the surface world with Brain. Additionally, Brain agrees to forfeit his royal claim on the world and is prohibited from future attempts at global conquest for the remainder of his days.

Challenger Signature: The Brain

Drafter Signature: Mr. Itch

*Mr. Itch reserves the right to set the terms of the challenge at his leisure.

o-o-o-o-o

He’d been too hasty in signing the contract. The combination of brimstone and heat had to be affecting his decision-making process.

It’s not about Pin– the food pellets, he told himself. Absolutely not.

But it was too late. His signature was burned into the page. Five blood-red letters would determine Pinky’s fate.

And even if…no, he couldn’t afford an if…when he succeeded in rescuing Pinky, he’d have to give up the world. He wouldn’t even be able to try and earn his crown, scepter, and throne through his own merits.

Without the nightly ambitions, Pinky might…wish to find a different associate.

Brain’s entire purpose would be gone. Forever.

He didn’t listen to the convoluted, nonsensical legalese that Mr. Itch’s lawyers provided. There was no need to provide metaphors or explain the situation further.

Brain understood the gist.

No matter the outcome, he would fail. And this time, the consequences were permanent.

“Think of it, Brain,” Mr. Itch sneered, and Brain hated that cocky, self-assured expression that put even the best car salesman in the world to shame. Mr. Itch waved his hand, and a sick, twisted parody of a game show appeared behind him. “You can walk away now and rule the world…or you can risk it all and try to get Pinky back.”

Brain’s vision blurred as he was forcibly thrust onto a tall podium. A spotlight illuminated him, and the demons clamored for his choice.

A tall demoness cheerfully indicated two panels to the studio audience of hell’s denizens. One depicted Brain on top of the world in royal regalia. He could have power to change the world. Admiration from the populace. Endless wealth so they could have the finest things life had to offer.

But the other panel was a portrait of Pinky. Just a misleading, goofy portrait of a smiling Pinky that belied the high stakes of Brain’s contract.

He was chafing under the spotlight. But why? He was king, he was emperor, with everyone at his beck and call! He shouldn’t be afraid of a little spotlight!

Except he wasn’t any of those things here. Just a mouse who’d failed to notice his associate signing his own soul away.

The demons clamored. Brain gripped the podium, vulnerable and ripe for humiliation, for several…seconds? Minutes? Hours?

His voice wasn’t working. He needed his voice, didn’t he? But he could only stammer like a fool. Perspiration built on his fur, and he nearly slipped off the podium, his palms damp and clammy. He didn’t know if it was the heat or the anxiety, but everyone was waiting for his choice.

“Save Pinky!”

“No, the world!”

“Go for cash!”

The demons jeered in a harsh, guttural cacophony. Brain was sure he would’ve been covered in fresh produce and popcorn if they’d had any available. Anything to amplify his current indignity.

He wanted Pinky. He wanted the world. He couldn’t have both.

But in the end, there was hardly a choice at all.

Ruling the world without Pinky by his side wasn’t worth the castle, the riches, the statues. Institutes of higher learning named in his honor, policies with his seal of approval, ethical practices in scientific fields to enforce…but what good were they to him?

His castle would just be a gilded cage. Sparkling and clean and mighty for all his subjects to behold from afar, but its interior would only contain a gloomy king without an associate, a confidant…

And a kindred spirit.

All or nothing. He had to try. Who knows? Pinky might’ve done the same for him.

“I’ll try to save Pinky!” Brain shouted, forcing the words past his throat and into the unforgiving outside world.

He wasn’t prepared for Pinky to spring onto the podium. That mindless simpleton was grinning from ear to ear like he was just being called to the stage in The Price is Right! Didn’t Pinky realize his soul was in peril?

“Oh, Brain! My hero!” Pinky snatched Brain up in an enthusiastic hug. Brain stiffened and tried not to think about the hand currently rubbing his head, and how he would never feel it again if he failed his quest.

They were also surrounded by an unfriendly sort. They would believe this saccharine display was a weakness if Brain allowed Pinky to indulge these childish needs.

He shoved Pinky off, holding him at arm’s length for a moment so Pinky would take the hint.

“…so he can show me where the food pellets are,” Brain added hastily.

That was all Pinky was needed for.

To show him where the necessities laid.

A hellish fanfare played, saving Brain pondering those terrifying thoughts.

An enormous fiery plume burst onto the stage, then dissipated to reveal Mr. Itch. He conjured a microphone and bowed heartily at the thunderous applause.

“Ladies and demons, we have something very special for your entertainment on this fantastic Halloween night. I trust you’re aware of our newest resident and his…well, can I even call him a friend? He didn’t lift a finger to stop me when I claimed Pinky.”

Brain stared down at his hands to avoid the harsh, mocking glares. This was just the opening act. Mr. Itch was hyping up the crowd for Brain’s ultimate failure.

Mr. Itch strolled around the stage, each movement radiating confidence of a self-assured victory. “Yes, he enjoys having that ultimate power. A glorious statue, his rival in the race for world domination now a lowly jester in court, his name praised on every street corner! Isn’t that a dream come true? And yet...he chose to come into my realm and make demands. Like the world wasn’t enough for him.”

Because Pinky wasn’t there to make the world enough.

A hiss of smoke sprung up by Brain’s foot. He bit his tongue, wondering if part of the challenge was running on hot coals or avoiding random ember spurts. At this point, it seemed very likely. His feet probably wouldn’t survive the night.

In the unlikely scenario that the rest of his body survived of course.

And something wet landed on his toe. Wet? There wasn’t anything wet about hell, unless one counted the boiling lakes. But it evaporated into steam before he could fully process the cool reprieve.

Then he heard it.

A whimper.

From Pinky.

A tear trailed down Pinky’s cheek.

“Pinky?” Brain asked quietly, trying to keep his eyes trained on Mr. Itch, who was currently recapping the tale of Brain’s disastrous attempt at Broadway to the raucous audience. Not one of Brain’s finest moments, but he couldn’t dwell on that now. Better for them to laugh over what was past and done, rather than drawing their attention here.

Pinky clutched his tail in a death grip. Steam leaked under his eyes and around his cheeks, his entire face damp with tears.

“He’s saying awful things.”

Even with their proximity, Brain had to strain his ears to hear Pinky’s voice.

“Don’t bawl, Pinky,” Brain whispered, hoping by some off-chance that the verbal comfort would be enough. “Don’t cry. Not here. Not now. Don’t…don’t be foolish.”

He didn’t know if the reassurance was meant for Pinky or himself. With a trembling hand, Brain reached for Pinky’s back, shuffling closer to make the motion less conspicuous.

But Pinky moved away before Brain could touch him.

“They have to know, Brain,” Pinky said. His voice was far too calm. “I can’t let him tell those awful lies about you.”

Pinky tried to balance on the edge of the podium, but Brain grabbed him by the tail and hauled him off. But Pinky was stubborn, and he tried again.

“Let him talk, you idiot!” Brain yelled, grabbing Pinky’s tail to knock him off-balance and buy some much needed time before Pinky foolishly tried again, oddly glad that Mr. Itch was enough of a showman to keep the attention away from them.

But Pinky’s huge pain threshold allowed him to recover far quicker than Brain would’ve liked. “Brain, let go of my tail!” Pinky shouted, trying to sweep his tail into a huge arc to dislodge Brain.

“Not until you do as you’re told, for once in your life!” Brain retorted, grasping the wriggling tail. He wouldn’t relinquish it.

Pinky was slippery though, and in one swift motion, he freed himself from Brain’s grip. Realizing he needed a more secure hold, Brain threw himself at Pinky’s right arm. Suddenly, the arm blurred, and Brain couldn’t stop his forward momentum in time. A sharp pain erupted on the side of his head and knocked him against a corner, his face throbbing painfully.

Through his daze, Brain pressed a hand against his cheek and winced at the tenderness. Hopefully it didn’t swell. Ice packs weren’t exactly a common item in this hostile environment.

Then he saw Pinky.

And Pinky was absolutely distraught. Smoke poured out his eyes at a more alarming rate than before. His blue eyes were tinged red. Pinky clutched his elbow with his other arm, squeezing as hard as he could to admonish it.

But it wasn’t necessary.

A microphone was thrust into Pinky’s face before Brain could tell him so.

“How could I forget our little stars of the show?” Mr. Itch asked, a sadistic grin stretching from ear to ear. “That was quite a scuffle there, Pinky. Can’t say I blame you. Revenge for all the times Brain’s bopped you on the head and insulted you?”

Pinky wiped his eyes in a pitiful attempt to get some semblance of dignity back as the demonic crew trained all their lights and cameras on him.

“N-no...” Pinky said weakly. “I mean, he can say mean things sometimes, but the bops-“

Mr. Itch shook his head in a show of mock sympathy. “Your friend-“ he curled his lip as if the word itself was cyanide “-called you a speckless nougat just before you signed my contract. He’ll take everything and give nothing. He’ll send you away only to ask for your services again because he can’t do the manual labor on his own. You’re a talented little guy, aren’t you? You’ve showed the moxie and the know-how to become a Broadway star or president of the good old USA. And instead of putting those gifts to use, you’ve been rotting inside a cage with a failure who leeches on your success.”

Failure.

One of the cameras trained its unforgiving lens on Brain. He shook away the remaining dizziness and stood up to get some semblance of dignity back. The demons booed and heckled him, but he tried to lift his head in defiance.

He wasn’t a failure. He ruled the world! His word was law, his brilliance unparalleled!

He had it all-

-only because Pinky sacrificed his soul for him. Pinky had taken drastic measures to prove himself when there had been nothing to prove, because Brain made Pinky believe he had to prove his usefulness.

He’d gained the world yet lost Pinky. It was failure.

Which meant he-

“Stop it,” Pinky begged. Brain’s thoughts came to a screeching halt, and he stepped away from Pinky before reminding himself that he was being illogical. Pinky didn’t have telepathy. He couldn’t have heard all that. But Pinky was glaring up at Mr. Itch with a ferocity Brain had never seen before.

In the span of a single night, Brain’s entire world had been shaken to its roots.

Mr. Itch raised an eyebrow. “Stop what?” he asked, placing his free hand on his chest like he’d been genuinely offended.

“Stop it! STOP CALLING BRAIN ALL THOSE NASTY MEAN HORRIBLE THINGS RIGHT NOW!” Pinky’s voice rose into a fevered pitch, his fur bristling along his spine.

This was wrong. This was so very wrong. Pinky wasn’t supposed to be the angry one.

Before Brain could stop him, Pinky leapt off the podium and landed on the microphone to the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of the lesser demons, and even Mr. Itch seemed too stunned by the maneuver to shake Pinky off.

“Pinky, cease immediately!” Brain yelled once he managed to find his voice. “You’re being reckless!”

“I HAVE PLENTY OF RECKS, BRAIN!” Pinky screamed, tightly clinging to the microphone even though Mr. Itch was attempting to pry him off. “CAUSE YOU’RE NOT A FAILURE OR A LEECH! YOU’RE A MOUSE!”

A comforting warmth spread through Brain’s chest at the affirmation, but he pushed those feelings aside. Pinky’s words meant nothing if Brain didn’t succeed with this rescue.

The audience was deathly quiet.

“Yes, Pinky,” Mr. Itch growled, trying to slip a finger under Pinky to dislodge him. But Pinky held on. “Let your friend talk. Let the cameras capture his selfishness. After all, his presence here just means he wasn’t grateful for your gift. That he wasn’t happy with your gift. As I said before, all he does is take, take, and take some more. What’s he ever done for you in return?”

But Brain had been grateful. For a short time anyway.

Until he realized his gratitude came from Pinky’s sacrifice. All of Pinky’s sacrifices that involved no benefit to himself.

Pinky mumbled something that had much of the audience leaning in eagerly, trying to hang onto every word.

Mr. Itch shrugged. “Well, if you have nothing else to say, then-“

But Pinky hauled himself on top of the microphone, clinging to it like a lifeline.

“Brain gave me my name! He gave me a chance to see the world! He gave me a chance to do things I never dreamed of doing before! I wouldn’t have met Pharfignewton otherwise! Or Winnie or Mr. Sultana or any of the other lovely people we met while trying to take over the world! Maybe Brain can be big-headed and a grump but he works super hard and he’s going to make the world a better place to live! And most importantly, he’s my best friend and nothing you say will ever change that!”

“Pinky…” Brain’s throat closed uncomfortably. It had to be the oppressive, stagnant air. What could he possibly say to Pinky’s emphatic speech?

Even the demons were moved. Some embraced their neighbors, others made sympathetic noises. There were a few who sat with their heads pressed against their knees in a futile attempt to staunch their tears.

He’d never been more grateful for Pinky’s charisma.

Mr. Itch took notice of his followers’ reactions. A vein seemed to pop in his head, his once casual, lazy posture now stiff and alert.

“Brain only kept you around because you were useful.” A dangerous edge crept into Mr. Itch’s tone. “That’s all there was to your so-called friendship.”

“NARF!” Pinky screeched in defiance.

It sounded all wrong. Fury and fear laced that familiar, irritating monosyllable. Brain didn’t know what narf meant, and he probably never would, but he was certain that narf wasn’t meant to be uttered in such a fashion.

“Narf!” a demon called.

Another demon stood up and pumped his fist. “Poit!”

“Troz! Egad! Narf! Zort!” The demons chanted Pinky’s favorite syllables like the world’s most demented cheering squad.

An inferno burned in Mr. Itch’s eyes.

“SILENCE!”

Mr. Itch’s snarl deepened into a guttural and unearthly roar, the entire netherworld quaking in outrage. The lesser demons hastily vacated their seats and cowered behind each other, large boulders, or whatever makeshift shields they could find.

The microphone and a tiny white body were hurled into the empty audience box, crashing into the metallic structure with enough force to leave an enormous dent.

There was no tic-filled laughter to accompany the harsh clang of his body impacting metal.

“PINKY!” Brain screamed, not caring that he tumbled more than climbed down the podium. He landed right on his throbbing cheek and got a mouthful of hot crimson dust for his trouble, but he couldn’t care less.

The physical tortures were just going to build up until Pinky’s body couldn’t handle it anymore. It didn’t matter that Pinky had a near-immunity to pain. Pinky’s body would break and he would never notice.

Brain spat out the dust and hurried over to Pinky, who feebly stirred next to the microphone.

Mr. Itch loomed above them, an ember casually lit on his finger. “You know what? That’s perfect,” he chuckled, and it was utterly devoid of good humor. “Absolute silence.”

Brain knelt on the hard ground next to Pinky, who only blinked up at him with those too-trusting blue eyes. Pinky raised a shaking hand, cupping it against the cheek he’d accidentally hurt.

“I’ve sustained worse injuries,” Brain said quietly. Despite the heat, he shivered at the touch. He wished Pinky wouldn’t comfort him. He didn’t deserve it. “You know that.”

Pinky opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“Speak up, Pinky.” Brain tried to sound commanding, but his voice hitched instead. He couldn’t even keep up a thin illusion of normalcy.

Pinky tried again, but Brain still couldn’t hear him. Not even a cough or a wheeze from smoke inhalation. He wasn’t choking or flailing. There couldn’t be something lodged in his throat.

“He can’t speak, Brain,” Mr. Itch said. “He’s been silenced per our little agreement.”

Silenced?

Brain snatched the wrist gently cradling his cheek and felt for a pulse, and he couldn’t disguise his relieved sigh once he found it.

“C’mon, just what do you take me for? It’s not a euphemism. Takes all the fun outta the contract.”

“Just say narf, Pinky,” Brain pleaded as he shook Pinky’s shoulder, as if pleading in hell would accomplish anything useful. “Please say narf. Can’t you do that much?”

Pinky mouthed the syllable to no avail. He became teary all over again, his free hand feeling his throat as if trying to coax the narf out. His foot kicked out, yet it made no thump against the crimson rocks.

The demons murmured among themselves, and though they appeared sympathetic to Pinky’s plight, they were too frightened of their master to come any closer.

It was just as well. Brain didn’t want anyone to touch Pinky.

Brain tried to glare at Mr. Itch, but a mouse could never hope to be intimidating against a sadistic supernatural being.

“Don’t give me that look,” Mr. Itch scoffed. “The fine print of our contract lets me set the condition of the challenge. Pinky’s silence is my first condition. If anything, I’m doing you a favor. Awful noisy thing, isn’t he? No wonder you weren’t inclined to get back him back right away.”

Had this been a different situation entirely, Brain might’ve found it relieving that Pinky would have to be quiet for a while.

Cruel irony at its finest.

Pinky touched his nose against Brain’s own, and Brain tried not to think of how Pinky could comfort as easily with a touch as with words. Surely Pinky was just using tactile stimulation for his own peace of mind rather than Brain’s.

“And now for my second condition,” Mr. Itch smirked. He snapped his fingers, the sharp echo promising cruelty yet to come.

The gentle pressure of Pinky’s nose vanished, the feel of his wrist and shoulder gone. The whites, pinks, and reds of his body were now colorless, lifeless. His bright blue eyes faded into a pale, ghostly void. No pupils, no irises…just empty.

Brain tried to put a hand over Pinky’s heart, desperately wishing for the steady thrum he was so accustomed to. Yet his hand passed through Pinky’s chest like mist. It was neither cold nor hot, simply that there was nothing to feel.

Pinky reached for Brain’s face, looking at him with that strange, milky gaze. But his hand passed through the cheek he’d accidentally hurt, and Pinky’s chest heaved rapidly. He tried to grab his tail, as he always did when he was truly upset, but couldn’t.

No tears came out. Just several silent sobs.

Pinky was just a silent, sorrowful ghost of his former self. The loudest and happiest mouse Brain had ever known was reduced to this shadow, trapped within his mind, unable to engage with the world around him.

It was a horrible, undeserved fate for such a kindhearted mouse. There would be no release, not even from death, if Brain failed his challenge.

He had no choice but to win.

And even that was practically impossible.

“Pinky, I’m sorry…” The words tumbled out of Brain’s mouth before he could think of anything else to say.

Why wouldn’t his mind just work? I’m sorry? Like he’d done nothing more than eat the last food pellet? Sorry didn’t even begin to cut it!

Pinky floated instead of standing, feet skimming just above the ground. He gave Brain a tiny, reassuring smile. Of course he’d find something to smile about in his non-existent state. It probably should’ve annoyed Brain, but it was rather comforting to know that Pinky would always be Pinky.

Even so, the smile faded just as quickly as it came. Pinky couldn’t properly express his joy with narfs and poits and enormous embraces.

Then a fingersnap above his head reminded him of Mr. Itch’s presence.

“We’ve got business to discuss, Brain,” Mr. Itch said as he straightened his lapels. “You should know what your challenge consists of.”

In other words, Brain’s humiliation had hardly begun. But he’d do it. For Pinky’s sake.

Brain tried to hold his head high and show hell that he wasn’t afraid to defy their evil laws, but he couldn’t even find the strength to bring his ears up.

Another snap, and the microphone soared back to Mr. Itch. He twirled it with a showman’s flair and gestured for the audience to take their seats. The lesser demons obeyed, murmuring among themselves and pointing at the spectral Pinky. They didn’t seem pleased by Pinky’s complete silence.

“Ladies and demons, think of Brain’s challenge as an adaptation of an old Greek story,” Mr. Itch announced. “And I ain’t just talking about a watered-down Heracles here. No, this story isn’t about heroes slaying monsters. Rather, it’s a tragedy. The Greeks were masters of that particular craft, you see. A man goes on a quest, yet his fatal flaw always strikes him down in the end. I trust you’re quite familiar with the concept, Brain?”

Brain said nothing. No need to give them ammunition.

His temper and pride were the source of many failures. But there was nothing he could do except commit the same errors over and over again.

He should’ve known. It was only a matter of time before the ones he…tolerated suffered the consequences.

As if sensing his thoughts, Pinky wrapped his spectral arms around Brain’s shoulders. He couldn’t feel the saccharine display, and that fact pained him more than he cared to admit.

“Ever heard of cooperation?” Mr. Itch sighed. “You have the starring role in the show tonight. Give us something to work with, at least.”

Brain gritted his teeth. He’d had enough of this delay. “I’m through with this prolonged torture! Just get it over with already!” he shouted. “I refuse to be paraded around like a sideshow attraction!”

“Touchy,” Mr. Itch huffed in disdain. He turned back to the audience. “But I digress. Now, this tragedy involves a man who ventured into the depths of the underworld to retrieve his closest companion. He placated everyone with his music, including Hades himself. And because Hades was a total sap, he allowed the man to lead his companion back to the surface world.”

His arm swept out and a large stone staircase appeared. It spiraled and arched far above their heads, and Brain caught a glimpse of a starry sky hidden among the crimson stone.

Pinky belonged in the surface world, where the grass and horses and inanimate objects he had yet to befriend waited. And he was relying on Brain to bring him there.

Perhaps it was silly to reach for arms he couldn’t feel, but Brain placed his hands atop where Pinky’s fur should’ve been. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d voluntarily touched Pinky without hurting him.

Something to rectify if they made it through this trial.

“And that brings me to the final condition.” Before Brain could react, darkness engulfed his vision as he was plucked up into the air, his head squeezed by an unforgiving, burning hand. Brain bit the skin like it was just another day of rough handling by some careless scientist, but a fiery pain flooded his throat and he released the hand immediately. It felt like magma had crammed its way into his esophagus, and there was no lifegiving water to relieve him.

Then he was roughly deposited at the base of the stairs.

Brain tried to turn around, but Mr. Itch forced him to stare at the first brimstone step instead. The steps were several inches taller than him, though he could still reach the next step if he jumped high enough.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Mr. Itch scolded. “I wouldn’t do that if I were a pathetic mortal like you. In this little tale, Hades told the man he couldn’t look at his companion until they were both in the land of the living, lest she be lost to the underworld forever. For your challenge, I’ll be invoking that same clause.”

Brain resisted the urge to bite that supernatural conman’s fingers off. He would only wind up damaging his throat.

“I can hardly expect Pinky to follow me in the presence of distractors!” Brain protested. “He’s liable to find a stalactite interesting, or collect rocks, or do anything else other than-“

Mr. Itch only cackled, pillars of lava erupting alongside his cruelty.

And Brain remembered why the story was known as a tragedy.

The man looked at his companion just as they reached the surface world. Her soul was forever lost among the dead. Though he tried to reclaim her, the underworld wouldn’t release her again. And he spent the rest of his life mourning her loss.

Hell expected a faithful adaptation. They knew Brain would inevitably lose his temper and forget that he couldn’t look. They knew they’d be able to keep Pinky forever.

They knew.

Yet they put on this charade anyway.

Because false hope was the cruelest lie of all.

“Your challenge begins, Brain,” Mr. Itch declared, and the wicked fingers slowly released Brain’s head. “And remember, no looking at Pinky until you’re both in the surface world. But that’s a moot point, ain’t it? You’re bound to forget soon enough. At least try to go for most of the length before your undeniable failure, okay? We wouldn’t want the show to end too soon.”

Mr. Itch vanished in a puff of smoke.

Undeniable failure.

“I am not a failure,” Brain snarled to himself, more out of habit than belief. But his petulance at the phrase enabled him to climb five steps without pausing for breath.

And he didn’t require Pinky to boost him up! He climbed five steps by himself!

But that thought was banished as he climbed the sixth step. Pinky couldn’t physically boost him, nor provide mental fortitude. The adrenaline rush wore off quickly, and Brain’s feet dangled in the air as he tried to find a grip on the rocky outcropping. But he managed, albeit with difficulty. On the count of three, Brain heaved himself over the ledge.

He laid on the hot stone to catch his breath, face tucked under his hands so he wouldn’t see Pinky.

No words of encouragement. No strange tics. Nothing except the roar of lava, mockery, and his darkening thoughts.

Funny how one didn’t appreciate what they had until it disappeared. Pinky always lifted Brain, boosting him to higher places he couldn’t reach alone. It was something he’d always done, and Brain had let it slide out of practicality. Just treat the action like a living, portable stepstool. It was far better than expending more energy than required during plans.

In hindsight, would it have killed him to say thank you? Or at least nod in gratitude?

There was no time limit, but Brain stood up and dusted himself off, though the crimson dust would just attach itself to his fur all over again within seconds. It was impossible to shake off, and Brain wondered if he would ever be able to fully cleanse himself of it.

Taking a deep breath, Brain reached for a handhold above his head and hauled himself up.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot again. One more repetition. Start all over for the next stairstep.

It was a rhythm. Rhythms weren’t full of what-ifs or what could’ve beens. Concentrate on the rhythm. Nothing else mattered.

He had to keep moving. Keep climbing. It was better than sitting there and doing nothing. He couldn’t rest. He wouldn’t.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

Brain’s throat burned. His fur was slick with perspiration, though it only served as a method to lose precious water instead of cooling him off. His limbs trembled, and it was difficult to keep hold of the unforgiving stone.

But he’d only completed the first two spirals! There were still several more tiers left, and the starry sky seemed much further away than before.

“Pinky, if…if we make it out of here-”

Brain shuddered as he laid down to rest. His voice was raspy from the fumes and thirst, but he had to keep talking. Had to say something. Maybe Pinky would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he wasn’t even in earshot.

“-if you want to leave…”

He trailed off, rubbing away teardrops that quickly evaporated into smoke. His chest ached, but he couldn’t say for certain that it caused by physical labor.

Brain couldn’t make an attempt at global conquest even if he succeeded. Pinky’s help would no longer be necessary.

Between the two of them, Pinky knew how to live. He knew how to talk to people, how to have fun, how to narf through his pathetic lot in life with a smile on his face.

Brain only knew survival. Maybe it was his former field mouse instincts that somehow bled into intellect. Maybe his primitive instincts weren’t as gone as he’d like to believe.

He would never be anything else but a lowly test subject. If someone decided to euthanize or feed him to a snake one day…well, it hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Another mouse would take his place. And when that mouse died, it would be replaced again. And the progress would continue in the name of scientific progress.

Dying for science.

Yes, that’s how he’d meet his end.

But Pinky’s kindred spirit would touch others. Whether it was through an executive office, the lead role on Broadway, or even just helping a stranger on the street, he could do so many good things for the world around him.

The world would love Pinky back.

And if a solitary mouse in a lonely lab happened to turn on the TV and see his former associate surrounded by an adoring crowd, he would be happy to see the world has changed for the better.

So he had to keep going.

He had to try. Try to bring Pinky back to the surface world…and let him go. He shouldn’t keep anything he didn’t earn.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The halfway point now.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

He miscalculated the distance to the top of the next step and reached too far. He lost his footing and plummeted several inches. Growling under his breath, Brain punched the unfeeling stone, though it only bruised his knuckles instead of making him feel better. Then he tried again.

And again. And again.

He couldn’t grasp these handholds! There was no logical reason why. They were approximately the same size and shape as all the other outcroppings! It shouldn’t be this difficult!

“Pinky, where are you when I need you? Cease your nonsense at once and help me!” Brain screamed, clutching the stone and closing his eyes so he wouldn’t see Pinky. Eight tries. Nine tries and counting. Why couldn’t he do something as simple as this?

But Pinky couldn’t help. It was useless to ask.

What’s the matter? Can’t manage a simple task on your own?

“Of course I can!” Brain snarled, and he gripped an outcropping so tightly that it broke off in his hand. He hurled the useless pebble into the abyss below, then found a different handhold and successfully hauled him to the next step out of sheer spite towards that nagging, insistent voice.

How do you know Pinky’s following you? How do you know he’s not enjoying his newfound flight capabilities?

He didn’t know. Pinky smiled when he discovered he could float as nothing more than a ghost, it was true, but the smile hadn’t reached his eyes. Pinky was incapable of deception. Even without speaking, the intention had been clear. Pinky only wanted to comfort Brain.

That Pinky could learn to live a life of nonexistence. That somehow Pinky would adapt to no touch, no words, no rest in hell.

If only those blank eyes had been more accusatory. It would’ve been far easier to deal with.

Pinky shouldn’t adapt to this. He couldn’t.

But he might-

No. Brain had to try. He had to try and not fail.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The ground quaked beneath his feet, and Brain clung to the crimson ledge he rested on. He wouldn’t put it past hell to throw him to the bottom and negate all his efforts.

Still, he pressed on.

The sky was closer now. Several autumn leaves were blown along the wind.

Are you sure Pinky’s behind you?

Three spirals left. Almost there. They were almost there.

Failure would come soon. He was sure of it.

He didn’t know much time had passed in the world beyond. Was it November already? Was it time for the world to replace the witches and skulls with turkeys and wreaths?

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The navy sky was filled with countless twinkling stars. Lights from a faraway airplane blinked steadily as it flew into the horizon. Ever closer, ever brighter.

“Do you see that, Pinky?” Brain whispered. For once, the stars gave him no existentialist dread. A feeling he dared describe as hope filled his chest and strengthened his limbs. All fears were banished to the recesses of his mind. He climbed with renewed purpose, not pausing for breath. “Just a little farther. We’re almost there. Stay behind me, Pinky. Just stay behind me.”

He’s not behind you.

“Yes, he is,” Brain retorted.

This was important. Pinky always came through in matters of importance.

Always is so absolute. You know those statements are usually false, right?

The ground rumbled, accompanied by a distant outraged roar, but Brain paid no heed to it. He ignored his doubts, he ignored the roars, he ignored everything but the starry expanse above and the rocks beneath his hand.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

He could do this. One more ledge. One more handhold. One more foothold.

The sky was so inviting, so beautiful…

Brain gripped the last ledge. He was filthy with dust and sweat, but he couldn’t care less. He was almost there.

Pinky was almost home. Pinky would be able to feel again.

And he would leave. But that was alright. Pinky wouldn’t suffer in hell on Brain’s account. That’s all that really mattered.

He hauled himself onto the last ledge…

…but he didn’t see the pitchfork’s hilt in time.

An agonizing pain shot through his body as he lost his grip and plummeted to the previous step. His back slammed against the hot stone. A searing pressure in the center of his forehead kept him pinned. He gasped for air, his dry throat throbbing.

An enormous crimson devil blotted out the night sky, and Brain’s fragile hope ripped away from his heart. The Devil’s eyes burned like lava as he glared hatefully at Brain, digging the pitchfork ever so slightly into his head.

It wouldn’t take much force to crush or melt his skull, whatever the Devil fancied.

“I OFFERED YOU CHANCE AFTER CHANCE TO WALK AWAY WITH THE WORLD. BUT YOU STOLE WHAT RIGHTFULLY BELONGS TO ME. YOUR PUNISHMENT SHALL BE DEATH.”

The silky, snake-oil voice was gone, replaced by the full power of a supernatural entity. What was a mortal, pathetic rodent compared to the Master of Hell himself?

He was going to die. He’d failed to save his friend. His only friend.

If his soul was trapped in hell forever…if he had to suffer for all eternity, he deserved it. For his selfishness. For his callousness. For his failure.

“Please don’t hate me, Pinky…please don’t…” Brain choked out. He didn’t know where Pinky was. But if Pinky was watching, or listening, he could only ask that Pinky wouldn’t hate him.

He lay there, his determination gone, his lonely demise imminent.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Troz!”

And the pressure vanished.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Troz!”

A cacophony of Pinky’s favorite syllables sounded again and again and again. Though Pinky’s voice wasn’t among them, Brain still heard that oddly wonderful Cockney accent loud and clear.

“NO! PINKY IS MY PROPERTY!”

The Devil roared as dozens of lesser demons swarmed him, the pitchfork swinging wildly at anyone who dared to oppose his reign. Something screamed at Brain to find cover before he was caught in the power struggle too, but his body refused to obey any rational thoughts.

Several demons ripped the enormous pitchfork away from their master, and the weapon crashed into a wall and spiraled into the depths below. Other demons screeched and clawed at every part of the Devil they could reach. The Devil swatted one pig-snouted demon slashing away at a shoulder, and he flew over Brain and tumbled down the stairs, grunts of pain echoing off the walls.

Immediately, his nearest allies howled in fury and attacked with more vigor than before. They chomped on cloven hooves, they fended off every swipe, and shouted warnings to their comrades before the Devil’s wrath could reach them.

No longer was self-preservation their only concern. They were a united force now, one the Devil himself had underestimated severely.

With one final shove, the Devil toppled over the edge. The ground rumbled at his furious roar, which quickly decreased in volume as he fell into the abyss.

Brain’s heart pounded, but the Devil didn’t resurface. A resounding cheer went up from the demons, then two of them rushed past Brain, presumably to check on their downed ally.

The remaining demons watched Brain closely. He flinched under attention he didn’t want. He just wanted to leave this horrible place. Then he realized they weren’t exactly looking at him, but rather somewhere just above his head.

“Narf!” the demons shouted, hands raised to their foreheads in a salute.

There was only one explanation behind the sudden camaraderie.

Pinky.

Pinky had been helping him all this time. Somehow, he’d influenced selfish demons to unite against their cruel master and protect each other from serious injury. Somehow, he’d found a way to say narf despite his voiceless state.

Somehow, Pinky still wanted to save Brain, even after all he’d done.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain said softly.

He didn’t need to question Pinky’s presence any longer.

A cool, fresh breeze blew over Brain’s fur as he climbed the last step. The starry sky was clear once again. It was a nice view.

The demons stood aside to allow them safe passage. He kept an eye out for any hostility, but other than their natural weapons, there was none to be found. Whether it was out of respect for the trial he and Pinky had endured, or if they were just an unpredictable force and Pinky’s presence somehow warded them off, he didn’t know.

Brain stepped onto the cool asphalt of the DMV parking lot, and had this been a different circumstance entirely, he might’ve found it rather ironic that one would be glad to set their sights on a DMV. He shivered from the temperature difference, the chilly autumn air contrasting heavily from the sweltering inferno.

Pinky’s contract shimmered into existence , and Brain’s own agreement followed within seconds. Someone had stamped ‘VOID’ in red capital letters across the top page of both contracts, and fire blazed across the crimson ink and engulfed the papers entirely. The ash and smoke left behind were swiftly carried off by the night wind.

Just like that, their contracts were gone.

In his relief, Brain turned to face Pinky to properly share their victory.

IDIOT! If you turn around, Pinky will be claimed by the Devil. Your entire challenge would be for nothing!

And Brain’s foot stopped mid-turn.

The realization struck harshly.

He didn’t truly know if the Devil had a claim over Pinky’s soul. The lesser demons only bought them time to escape hell. Brain doubted they’d be able to hold their master back forever, even as a united front. But if the Devil came back, what then? Two lab mice couldn’t hope for a permanent victory against a powerful, malicious entity.

There was only one solution.

Brain could never look at Pinky again.

He didn’t trust himself to not slip up. Sooner or later, he’d forget that he couldn’t look. And Pinky would be gone again. Brain’s efforts would be in vain.

Hell wouldn’t be so accommodating the second time.

“Narf! Brain, I can say narf again!” a familiar voice exclaimed behind him.

Brain’s ears perked without any conscious input, but it was a minor loss of control in comparison to everything else he’d endured tonight.

He heard the clatter of pebbles and a swish of fallen leaves alongside a gentle tap of dancing feet against the asphalt. Pinky could interact with the environment again. He could dance and speak and produce all the noises he wanted. It was a small consolation, at least. The contract never said anything about never being able to hear Pinky again.

“Brain?” Pinky asked again. “Are you alright?”

Brain forced himself to stare at a white line that marked a parking space instead.

Don’t look, he chanted. You mustn’t look.

A featherlight touch landed on his shoulder, a gentle warmth not quite touching his back, but just close enough for him to feel its presence.

Brain hastily pulled away. He hated this feeling of helplessness, of being unable to function without physical reassurance. But he couldn’t accept Pinky’s touch either. It would just lead to further loss of control over his emotions, and he’d forget that he couldn’t look.

Pinky would have to leave ACME Labs and Brain forever. He would probably find it difficult at first, but he’d adapt. That’s just what he did.

Brain’s entire body ached. He just wanted to wash away the fire and brimstone, tend to his injuries, and sleep. It didn’t matter what he wanted to do after that. Even if he ignored the contract’s terms and tried to conquer the world again, it would never be the same.

He set off for the lab. Pinky followed, as always.

Maybe it was a selfish risk to not send Pinky away at this very moment, but he was grateful that Pinky would accompany him for one last after-failure trek.

o-o-o-o-o

He’d completely forgotten about his very brief stint as emperor. The only reminder from that timeframe was Snowball, who’d exchanged his jester cap and bells for the royal crown as soon as Brain abandoned his post to rescue Pinky.

ACME was no longer a mighty castle, but just another underfunded lab. Nobody chanted his name, called for their problems to be solved, or held signs that proclaimed Brain as their ruler. His statue had long vanished.

He didn’t want to see loyal subjects, enormous wealth, and undisputed power tonight. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever want them again.

Right now, he was just Brain, an exhausted, downtrodden lab mouse who would have to try to live without his only friend.

On the way back, Pinky had chattered about anything and everything, prattling on about cheese flavors, then about an inflatable reindeer someone had put up a month early, and finally to paint swatches so their section of the lab would be, according to him, ‘happy and go-lucky and livelier than a herd of hippopotamuses!’.

Brain said nothing. He just let Pinky talk. This might be the last time he’d ever hear that silly voice again.

“Maybe we could get some feng shui going, just like on HGTV! Zort!” Pinky said, and Brain could just imagine him scratching his head in a vain attempt to get any thoughts going. “Wait, no…we should paint radish roses on the walls! And make them with our radish rose whatchamawhozits! Twice the garnishes for our dinner parties! What color swatch should they be though? Raspberry rose? Rosemary? Oh, we should get one with a funny name! What do you think, Brai-oh, hey Snowball! Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Snowball scowled, stalking over to Brain and casting a contemptuous glare at Pinky. The loss of the hamster’s usurped power was still fresh in his twisted mind.

“My statue is gone thanks to whatever you did!” Snowball jabbed a finger into Brain’s chest. But Brain barely felt it. He didn’t feel anything towards Snowball at the moment. Not betrayal, not hatred, not even bittersweet nostalgia.

Brain only wanted rest.

“You should’ve stayed in hell,” Snowball growled. “He promised he’d keep you there.”

Brain placed his hand over Snowball’s finger, but he didn’t have the strength to push it away. The hamster raised an eyebrow at the lack of resistance.

“And he kept that promise, Snowball,” Brain said quietly. “Perhaps not in the way you expected, but he kept it.”

Snowball scoffed. He wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

The laboratory doors were wide open. It was a small consolation that he wouldn’t have to go through the mail slot.

“But…our contracts went up in smoke, Brain. Literally.” Pinky’s voice quivered. “And we’re on the lab’s doorstep too.”

It was time to break the news. Maybe he shouldn’t prolong the goodbye, but Pinky needed time to clean himself and pack his belongings.

“I wish to speak with Pinky. Leave, Snowball.”

“Fine,” Snowball spat, shoving past Brain. “I’ll talk to that blasted devil myself. Even his lawyers will have a difficult time against an entire corporation’s legal team.”

Once he was gone, Brain gestured for Pinky to follow him inside. The interior no longer held a throne, red carpet, or a golden wheel. Just their cage, several counters, and standard laboratory equipment.

Pinky made a valiant effort to hold his tears back, though he couldn’t completely stop all the whimpers from escaping. “P-poit. Nothing good ever comes out of wanting to talk,” he chuckled weakly.

“No, I suppose not,” Brain said. He gripped the side of a bottom drawer to give his hands something to do. His hands were scraped raw from climbing, though he relished the sting. Stings were only a small pain. He could handle small pain. More importantly, he couldn’t turn around, not even to see Pinky off for a proper goodbye.

You have to leave now. Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Pinky, his mind supplied.

It wasn’t enough. Whether it was one word or a million, they would never properly express everything he never said. What was he supposed to say to Pinky, who gave his soul away for Brain and never asked for anything in return?

“Brain, are you mad cause I didn’t help you?” Pinky asked. “Is that what this is about? Cause…I wanted to. I tried to push you up the steps, but I couldn’t feel you…and I tried shouting and cheering and yelling too! I…I don’t think you heard me. I’m sorry for being useless, Brain. You struggled so hard for me, and I was just useless!”

When Mr. Itch imposed his horrible terms, Pinky tried to cheer up Brain. Even when Brain had doubted, Pinky had been by his side. And he’d somehow inspired the demons to come to their aid.

That wasn’t useless. Not at all.

Even if Pinky hadn’t done all those things, Brain wouldn’t have held it against him. His anger was directed entirely towards the Devil himself.

“You’re not useless, Pinky,” Brain admitted. “I never should’ve implied it before this entire mess started. I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a while, only broken by the tap of Pinky’s feet on the tiles.

“Okay, I forgive you,” Pinky said. There were no strings attached. It always took Brain by surprise, how there were no additional requirements for Pinky’s forgiveness. “How come you won’t face me, Brain? I wanna see you.”

Brain took a deep breath. Best to get it out of the way. Get it done.

He couldn’t say done and over with. There was no over. He would never be the same without Pinky.

“I can’t see you, Pinky. I can’t look at you. Ever again. ” Brain pressed his head to the drawer, fighting the urge to turn around. “Don’t come any closer. You’ll just…it’ll make it harder on both of us.”

But Pinky’s footsteps drew closer. Of course they would.

“Make what harder?” Pinky echoed.

A warm hand fell on Brain’s shoulder, so different from blazing fire and cold wind, and something inside him broke.

“This goodbye, you idiot! He’ll come and he’ll take you again if I look at you! So leave at once for your own safety!” he yelled. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, parched from thirst and raw from fumes.

“Then what was the point?” Pinky’s hand tightened around Brain’s shoulder. “Why would you rescue me only so you could tell me to leave? Why would you come after me and get hurt so much? At least you’d have the world if I’d just stayed there!”

“I WOULDN’T HAVE THE WORLD IF YOU REMAINED IN HELL, PINKY!” Brain screamed back. “I WOULDN’T HAVE ANYTHING!”

Not the one that truly mattered, anyway.

Pinky’s long tail drooped, ears falling back. Tears spilled out of his blue eyes.

And Brain’s anger melted away, replaced by all-consuming fear. His temper struck again, and he’d forgotten.

He’d turned around.

And he was looking straight at Pinky, right into the sorrowful expression he wore.

“No,” Brain whispered, shaking his head as he put as much distance between himself and Pinky as he could. But his body wouldn’t cooperate. He only managed a few shaky steps backwards. The lab was always so big. Why did it feel so tiny now?

Pinky was close. Far too close.

He’d looked.

The Devil was coming.

Lurking in any shadow, ready to snatch Pinky.

“He’s coming, Pinky!” Brain cried. “You have to get out of here now!”

“Who’s coming?” Pinky asked, reaching for Brain again. “Brain, are you alright? Your ears are floppy.”

He wasn’t even trying to run.

“No, I can’t let him take you. Not again!” Brain quickly glanced around the room. Surely there had to be plenty of places for a mouse to hide!

But the drawers were far too obvious, desk items could be moved easily, and his mind wouldn’t work just like every plan he ever came up with didn’t work and his attempts to protect Pinky would end in failure and he failed even when he wasn’t after the world and he just wanted to do something good for once without failing miserably-

White filled his vision as he was pressed against a warm chest by a gentle arm. A strong heartbeat thumped against his ear. A hand gently slipped under his chin, tilting his head up until he was looking into reassuring, sky blue eyes.

Despite the tears, Pinky’s gaze promised only hope and light and companionship.

Then Pinky carefully touched the area Snowball had jabbed, the center of Brain’s forehead where the pitchfork almost crushed him, until his hand lingered on the cheek he’d elbowed during their fight on the podium.

Gentle. Kind. Worried.

And Brain cried. Pinky held him close, not complaining when Brain’s tears dampened his fur or when the leftover crimson dust smudged against him. Tears splashed against Brain’s head, and he wrapped his own arms around Pinky, just to let him know it was alright if he needed to release his tears too. He didn’t know if he was hugging too tightly or holding too loosely, nor did he know if his arms were in the correct position at all.

Brain stroked the fur along Pinky’s spine, hoping the gesture conveyed that he forgave Pinky for accidentally hurting him. He took Pinky’s tiny hum as a good sign.

Pinky had been deprived of all sensation. This was comfort for him, just the reassurance of touching Brain. Of being close to him.

They stayed that way until nothing was left but exhaustion and damp fur along their cheeks. Brain’s legs buckled, unable to hold him up any longer.

Pinky caught him. “It’s okay, Brain. I’ll carry you,” he said, and his tone left no room for argument.

Never once did Brain feel like he was going to fall during Pinky’s climb up the counter. He only relished the close contact.

But he had to let go all too soon.

Pinky set Brain on the counter, then brought him a thimble of water from their bottle. The cool water flowed down his throat, bringing him much needed relief. He sipped slowly, giving Pinky time to dampen several fluffy towels in the sink.

“Pinky, aren’t you tired?” Brain asked as he exchanged the thimble for three small towels. One was damp, another held strawberry-scented soap, and the last one was dry.

But Pinky shook his head, yawning loudly as he skipped away to clean himself as well. He made lots of noise as he freshened up, just to let Brain know he was there.

And with his mouth wide open too. It was rather uncouth, and despite his exhaustion, Brain rolled his eyes at just how Pinky-like that action was.

Brain made sure to use all three towels the way Pinky intended, scrubbing out the dust with the damp towel, and to his surprise, it came out rather easily, then rubbed the strawberry scented soap and clean water into his fur, and finally dried himself off with the last towel.

As he patted down his fur to try and get it into some order, Pinky came back. The messy tuft on his head stuck out in every possible direction, and so did the rest of his fur.

“You’re a mess,” Brain sighed as Pinky picked him up and carried him back to the cage. Pinky laughed softly as Brain flattened a particularly egregious tuft on Pinky’s shoulder. The acrid fire and brimstone scent was gone, and now they smelled of fresh strawberries.

They settled into their shared bed. Pinky set Brain down on his preferred side, then pulled away. Pinky frowned for the barest second, but it was quickly replaced by a gentle smile.

Yet he knew Pinky still needed physical contact.

And so did he.

“Pinky?” Brain whispered.

Pinky took that as an invitation to pull Brain into a secure hold. “Yes, Brain?”

“Don’t go…” Brain nuzzled into Pinky’s chest, into the odd yet comforting warmth he freely gave. One last stray tear slipped from his eye. “Please don’t go.”

Instead of replying with words, Pinky rested his jaw on top of Brain’s and hummed softly, the vibration soothing to his worried mind. His tail draped over Brain’s waist to anchor him.

“Just say narf, just say narf.

We’re alright, we’re okay, so let’s say narf.

You and I will have tomorrow nights again.

No matter what happens, I’m always your friend…”

The melody was soft, the rhythm reassuring. Brain closed his eyes and believed in Pinky’s familiar song.

They were together. Tomorrow night would come. He was sure of it.

End AN: So...I’ll be real, some parts of these were really hard for me to write cause I feel so bad for torturing them like this. Give them love guys. They need it.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #warning for torture

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hopelessromanticspoonie · 5 years

Text

To Keep You Safe

Title: I don't wanna be the one to have the sun's blood on my hands

Chapter: 19/?

Author: hopeless_romantic_spoonie

Summary: Life as the assistant to Tony Stark was busy, but boring. All of that changed when I touched something I shouldn't have and woke up with strange new abilities. If I thought that trying to figure out my new place in life as an Avenger was tough, I had no idea what was in store for me once I ran into the frustrating God of Mischief, Loki.

Rating: E

Notes: Friendly reminder that this is un-Beta’d, so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors I no doubt missed during revisions!

Also on Ao3 here :)

Warnings for this chapter: Graphic depictions of violence, brief mention of previous torture, blood, language

~~~

“Loki Odinson was under the control of an outside force and coerced into his misdeeds in the 2012 Invasion of New York. After the incident, he served time for his crimes in solitary confinement on his homeworld of Asgard. He has since returned with his brother, King Thor Odinson of Asgard, to make amends for his previous actions. He has assisted the Avengers on several missions to better the safety of our fellow man. His presence here is fully supported by myself and the rest of the Avengers. He is not a threat to us.”

Tony was a natural at press conferences. Even when reading a pre-prepared speech, which he would hopefully stick to this time, he seemed completely at ease with the stressful situation and stiff legalese. Only those closest to him would notice the tension he held in his shoulders or the worry he hid behind his glasses. Loki was going to be a hard sell, and by proxy, so would I.

I had stood on the sidelines for countless press conferences and events acting as his assistant. I was comfortable in that role; my job consisted of just waiting to step in if it went south or if an urgent matter came up that I needed to get Tony out of there to handle. I was much less confident in my current position. I was the subject, or at least a good part of it, to be discussed in front of a hundred reporters who would then publish or broadcast it to millions of people. All eyes were on me and the Asgardian by my side, scrutinizing our every twitch and breath. A wrong move would not end up in just my firing from the company, but with the very real possibility of my arrest. It wasn’t a relaxed atmosphere, to be sure.

Loki, on the other hand, looked as poised and calm as ever. It was easy to picture him as he would’ve been on Asgard, standing dutifully to the side as Odin rambled on and on about some issue that he would most definitely handle differently. There wasn’t a crack in his apathetic gaze as he stared out at the crowd, looking as if he belonged there in his dark gray three-piece suit. Tall and proud and wholly above the proceedings, I felt very small in comparison.

“Many of you have seen her before, but the newest member of the Avengers is my former assistant, Jennifer Thompson. She has been a huge asset to the team since she joined several months ago. We have nothing but positive things to say about her and her abilities.”

All of the heads and cameras in the room swiveled to direct their attention to me. I wanted to shrink away into the shadows beneath their intense scrutiny. I settled for dropping my eyes to the floor. Loki shifted on his feet enough to brush his arm against mine, and I flicked my gaze over to him. He lifted his chin slightly higher and took a deep breath in through his nose, directing his eyes to settle just above the reporters present. I took the hint and fixed my neutral gaze just beyond the onlookers. With my hands clasped behind my back and my chin lifted proudly, I could almost pull off looking as stately as him. Almost. My quickened breathing and ashen face had to give my nerves away.

“Now, I know that you’re all here because of the incident that occurred last night. Loki and Ms. Thompson had been out on a mission for us when they were attacked by terrorists. They handled the situation as best as any of us could have, without any civilian casualties. Rest assured that we are working on finding and eliminating this terrorist cell permanently. In the meantime, we ask for your patience and continued support. Thank you.”

Of course, his clear-cut dismissal and retreat from the podium didn’t stop the barrage of questions hurled in our direction.

“Are Loki and Ms. Thompson dating?”

“Who were the terrorists?”

“How can we know that he’s changed?”

~~~

“I’m not wearing heels, Nat,” I refused, scowling at the black strappy stilettos of death she held out for me. “Besides, you won’t be able to see them in this dress.”

I wasn’t wrong. My black floor-length gown completely hid my bare feet as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Thankfully Pepper had listened when I asked for some sort of sleeve to hide the scar on my shoulder, but chose to ignore the request for a dress with a back as well. The intricate lace that began above the deep-V of opaque fabric at my chest continued up to the collar at my neck and down both arms, but it didn’t extend to the very open and low back. The dimples at the base of my spine were visible, for goodness sake. If anyone tried to touch any part of my back tonight they would just get a handful of my skin. Awesome.

The tangled web of scars stretching across my middle and upper back were out for all to see, as Nat had insisted that the dress was meant to highlight them for a reason--to show the world what I’d faced and overcome--but it just sounded like I was some freak put out on display. She insisted that leaving my long hair down would be a waste of such a beautiful gown; the elegant bun pinned to my head with far too many bobby pins was much more fitting, in her opinion. I didn’t argue, but maybe I should have. It would only give the people who were coming just to see Loki and me in public another thing to speculate about, but it wasn’t a battle worth fighting. Whenever Nat was in control of my styling I just let her go to town. She knew what she was doing, and my nerves were pulling my thoughts in too many directions to even begin to formulate a decent argument.

“C’mon, Jen! Grow a pair and wear the damn heels. It won’t kill you and it’ll make your ass look great,” she replied, tossing the shoes at my feet so she could strap into her own slinky stilettos.

I ignored her, going to my closet to select and step into a simple pair of black flats instead. “My ass already looks great,” I countered, painted plum lips pulling into a smirk.

“His ego is rubbing off on you.” She rolled her kohl-rimmed eyes, checking herself out in the mirror before heading to the door. “C’mon Princess, we don’t have all night.”

I rolled my eyes and followed her out, my snappy comeback dying on my lips as I got an eyeful in my escort for the evening waiting outside of my room. All of the air rushed out of my lungs. Loki had no right to make a tuxedo look that good. I stopped dead in my tracks, ogling him appreciatively before he took notice of me. Leaning against the wall with his hands shoved into his pockets and his head dropped to stare at his shined black leather shoes, he could have walked out of a movie. His slightly curly hair was tucked back behind his ears to accentuate his sculpted cheekbones and chiseled jaw, and his emerald green bowtie brought out his penetrating gaze when finally looked up upon our entrance. My heart stuttered in my chest as our eyes met; he was the most stunning man I had ever laid eyes on, and he was all mine.

I blushed under the heat of his perusal as he languorously traced every curve of my body in the tight dress with his penetrating gaze. He sauntered over to offer me his arm with a leering smile. “You are ravishing, love,” he whispered into my ear, lightly setting his hand over mine when I slipped it into the crook of his arm.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, Asgardian,” I replied warmly as he led us downstairs. Nat had made everyone wait for us--perfection couldn’t be rushed--but she claimed they wouldn’t mind when they saw what they had been waiting for. From Loki’s darkened eyes and wolfish grin, I’d have to agree with her on that one.

Our entrance was welcomed with a wolf whistle from Sam which triggered another deep blush to bloom on my fair skin. Loki tensed up, either from jealousy or possessiveness, and I stroked the inside of his arm with my thumb to soothe him. That side of him was never going to go away, no matter how much I proved my loyalty to him. Truthfully, the less civilized part of me enjoyed his desire to keep me for his own. I hazarded a look around the room, which immediately made me feel inadequate. It was a little intimidating to be reminded that the people you lived and worked with could all pass for models and movie stars.

Thor, immaculately dressed in his own tux, came forward and clapped Loki on the shoulder. “Well done, brother,” he said loudly in that resounding voice of his that echoed around the large reception area. I couldn’t help but smile at the implied compliment and received a wink for my efforts. While the eldest Odinson wasn’t my type--I couldn’t believe that I had thought he was at one point--I could understand the easy, confident appeal that he had as he chatted idly with the man holding me securely to him. Loki also seemed to appreciate the hearty endorsement, as he stood a bit taller and cast a proud smile in my direction.

“Natasha, Sam, Steve, and Thor, you’re in the first car. Jen and Loki, you’re in the second car with Tony and myself. Wanda and Vision, you’re with Bruce in the last car. We’re late, so let’s get a move on,” Pepper called, walking in from outside and pointing everybody in the right direction. Tony was apparently already in the car, as he was nowhere to be found.

Loki and I followed Pepper, climbing into the black SUV assigned to us and settling in the back row. Tony was, as I guessed, sitting in the row in front of us fiddling with something on his phone. He didn’t even move at our entrance, and only briefly looked up to kiss Pepper on the side of her head when she sat next to him and told the driver to head away from the Compound.

Several minutes into the ride, Pepper turned around as best as she could in the seat so she could face us. “I have to tell you this even though you probably know it, but you both need to be on your best behavior tonight. Nobody really knew you as Tony’s assistant, Jen, and they’re going to want to get under your skin. Loki, Thor assured me that you have been to many events like this on Asgard and that you would know how to act properly?” She paused, waiting for Loki’s quick nod of agreement before continuing, “You both need to consider how you want to present yourselves. Jen, you know how it goes. You saw the spotlight that fell on us after we went public. Just,” she looked pointedly at Loki before meeting my thoughtful hazel eyes, “think about how you want it to go, okay?” She offered us a sympathetic smile before turning around, going back to whatever work she had to do on her smartphone.

“What is she referring to?” Loki asked quietly, probably not wanting to be overheard by the couple diligently working away just in front of us.

I shook my head and tried to muster up a reassuring smile but I could tell by the frustration written on his face that it wasn’t successful. “I don’t know. Probably nothing important.”

His steady gaze turned to steel and he leaned toward me slowly. “Do not lie to the God of Lies, little one. It never works out well.”

I suddenly became very interested in a piece of lace detailing on my sleeve, picking at it with my nails to avoid looking at him. That didn’t work for too long, as he delicately grasped my chin with his long fingers and lifted so I was forced to look at him.

“Tell me what she meant,” he ordered, his low voice brokering no room for argument.

I knew exactly what she was implying, and I also knew that he wasn’t going to take it well. But if I didn’t tell him, his irritation was going to get the best of him and that wasn’t what we needed right before spending several hours playing nice in front of people desperate to see us crack. “Besides what happened last week, I’m relatively unknown to the public. I have a small reputation as Tony’s assistant, standing in the background while he conducted business. There press and paparazzi are going to be there, digging for whatever they can find to publish in the tabloids and trashy magazines. Which wouldn’t be so bad, but…” I stopped, tugging my chin free from his hand so I could direct my quiet words at his chest. “If I present myself as your partner, it,” I sighed heavily, “it won’t look the best for me. She was reminding me that appearing in public with you, as your partner, is going to make your reputation rub off on mine. It’s going to make it all much more difficult.”

He visibly stiffened, shifting farther away from me in the seat as he regarded me with a feigned air of cold indifference. His spindly fingers laced together on his lap. “Ahh, I see. Is that what you want? To no longer be tied to me and my negative past deeds?”

“No!” I said loudly, earning a quick concerned glance from Tony and Pepper. I smiled awkwardly until they gave up on their curiosity and turned around. “No. I’m not going to abandon you just because tonight is going to suck. This will, however, be our moment to publically come out as a couple. So, we need to decide if we want the world to know about us or not. We will be closely observed either way. What do youwant?” I asked, my stomach threatening to come up through my throat at the sudden onset of nerves raging inside of me. I couldn’t stop my hands from wringing together in my lap if someone paid me.

“I am proud to have you by my side,” he replied, the hurt he managed to hide from his stony expression creeping into his otherwise clear voice. “But it is your decision on whether or not you feel the same.”

“We will be the most hated people there…” I cautioned. He needed to be prepared for what we were about to face, whether we did it together or not.

“I have spent the majority of my life as the most despised person in mixed company. Their opinions do not matter to me.” He frowned. Vulnerability reflected in his eyes for a brief moment before he turned to the window. “It would, however, make this ordeal much more bearable if I did not have to face the criticism alone.”

Really fucked that one up. Good job. I slouched backwards, deflating as I stared out my window. I didn’t know whether I was more upset at Pepper for bringing it up or at myself for even making the suggestion that we might go it alone. I knew about his deeply rooted trust and abandonment issues and I had just played into them handily. Words weren’t going to make it any better. He was the God of Lies. He knew that words meant little compared to actions. The only option I had was to show him that I wanted to stand by his side through it all.

Because that’s what I wanted, right? I couldn’t imagine facing all of this alone, and I certainly didn’t want him to have to do it either. He, more so than anyone tonight, was going to be watched like a hawk at this event. He hadn’t yet proved to them that he wasn’t the same man that they had last seen. I couldn’t throw him to the wolves like that. We made each other stronger in all situations, and this was more nerve-wracking than any mission for the Avengers. We’d both be much calmer if we could lean on the other in our weaker moments.

The car pulled up outside of the venue for the night, an impossibly large museum, and stopped right next to the red-carpeted stairs. Through the heavily tinted windows dozens of paparazzi lay in wait to get pictures of the Avengers and other celebrities as they made their way into the charity gala. And, by some twist of fate, I had been lumped into that group.

Pepper and Tony exited first to a chorus of shouts and cheers. Loki, ever the gentlemen when it concerned me, gracefully withdrew from the car before turning to offer his hand to assist me. Apprehension settled in faint lines on his fair skin as he waited, illuminated from behind by the flashing bulbs of tabloid reporters waiting to get the perfect shot of our entrance. With a grateful smile, I took his hand, carefully easing myself out of the car. Loki’s stricken face studied me, waiting for my next move to indicate how we would go about the evening.

I released him to smooth down my dress with shaking hands and his face fell instantly, but only briefly; his mask of apathy slipping over his face with practiced ease. He began to walk away, adjusting his suit jacket stiffly, and I just barely managed to snag his wrist before he made it too far. He turned on his heel to see what I needed and my heart panged in my chest at the hint of betrayal shining in his eyes.

My hand drifted down his wrist to lace my fingers with his and pull him into my side. “You can’t leave me alone with these sharks. It’s not very Prince-like of you,” I teased with a hopeful grin.

A relieved smile spread across his face, showing his teeth and wrinkling around his eyes. Bright flashes from the cameras pointed at us blinded me as he left a lingering kiss on my forehead. His pleased hum vibrated through my skull. The tension left his body with heavy exhale of relief. “Please excuse my poor manners. It will not happen again.” He brushed another kiss on the back of my hand before straightening up to face the screaming paparazzi head-on.

“-you two together or-”

“-side of what happened last-”

“-she a good la-”

“-Tony not good enough so you had to move up-”

“-with an Asgardian Prince like?”

“-do we know this isn’t just another trick-”

Loki’s head tilted slightly to the side as he fought to catch each sleazy and lowball question. With a quick wave at the yelling silhouettes behind the flashing cameras, I tugged him along the walkway. Now wasn’t the time to give them any attention that wasn’t necessary, and I told him so.

“A number of those questions were out of line,” he muttered, shooting a glare back in their direction while I guided him inside of the building.

“They want to get a rise out of us; it sells their shitty magazines. Don’t stoop to their level,” I replied, leading him down the cordoned-off pathway. My sure steps ground to a halt just outside of the hall where the gala was actually taking place. A lead ball had fallen into my stomach and my heart thundered in my chest.

Loki took in my anxious face and pulled me off to the side, allowing the small crowd of people we had been blocking to continue inside unhindered. He stooped down until all I could see was his face. “Do not tell me that you are afraid to go into that room filled with harmless mortals?”

I laughed weakly. “I’m not afraid of the other mortals. I just don’t want to go in there, big difference.”

He rolled his eyes at my bluff. He straightened up and pressed his hands over the front of my shoulders so that I dropped them back to mirror his impeccable posture. Before taking my hand once again, he nudged my chin upwards with his calloused fingers. “If they will not give you the respect that you deserve, take it from them. Show them the fierce woman that I know you to be.”

Bolstered by his confident assurances, I followed him into the crowded room. I fixated on his thumb rubbing against the thin skin of my knuckles. I forced myself to not focus on the hush that fell over the space as soon as we entered or the eyes that watched our every move as we made our way over to the bar. I didn’t pay attention to the hushed utterances of our names as I downed a glass of red wine and then clutched onto my second. I was one-hundred percent not paying attention to them at all.

Right.

The only saving grace, besides Loki’s continued quiet presence at my side, turned out to be his brother. We had managed to find an area along the wall where I could keep an eye on everyone and stay out of the way, hoping not to be bothered. Thor had other ideas, as he strolled over to us with a beaming smile and held out his hand to me.

“Right now you are both a terrifying sight, ghostly in black as you stare people down. Come, dance with me, my lady,” he offered, directing the words to me but his attention on Loki.

“He has a point,” I conceded, also looking up to the imposing man at my side. He definitely had the tall, dark, and handsome thing going on, but in a much more menacing manner than the saying usually implied.

To his credit, he extinguished the small flicker of doubt that reflected in his eyes down enough for him to nod at us both. “They do seem to have taken to you, brother. Go on, then.”

Loki took my proffered half-full glass of wine and I stood on my toes to quickly kiss his cheek before I took Thor’s hand. He was determined to make our revelry known, as if all eyes weren’t on us anyway, by stationing us at the center of the dance floor. The live band hired for the event played a catchy, upbeat tune. Thor put one hand on my back, shockingly warm compared to Loki’s, and took my other hand, swinging us around to the beat. It was impossible not to give in to his infectious joy as he danced, looking more carefree than I’d seen him in ages. It took only a few turns and ridiculous dance moves from Thor before I was laughing so hard that my face ached. He wasn’t ever really that uptight around the Compound, but it wasn’t every day that the King of Asgard let loose so completely.

After my dance with Thor was over, Tony smoothly cut in. He made sure to be respectable with his hand resting on the middle of my back, avoiding my scars, the other holding mine lightly.

“Rock of Ages doesn’t look too happy over there,” he said, glancing behind me.

I peeked over my shoulder to see Loki standing where I had left him, arms crossed as he carefully monitored us. The high arch of his brow dared Tony to try anything untoward. I turned back to Tony with a shake of my head. “He gets a little…”

“Possessive? Jealous? Dramatic?” Tony offered with a smirk.

“Concerned,” I supplied, silently agreeing with Tony’s offering. “I don’t mind it.”

Loki couldn’t help it, though. Everything good in his life had been ripped from him, and while we hadn’t discussed it, I knew that Thor had reminded him of the grim fact that my days with him were numbered. The hazards of my position in the Avengers only added another layer of danger to my life. If I were him, if I had suffered as much as he had over those that he cared about, I’d keep me as close as possible, too.

A tall black man dressed in a monochromatic black suit approached his, a wide smile that didn’t reach his eyes plastered on his face as he held out his hand for Tony to shake, which he accepted after releasing me. His eye--for he had an eyepatch covering the scarred socket of the other--only glanced at me before settling back on Tony. “Mr. Stark, so glad to have you come with the rest of your team! I haven’t been introduced to the newest member,” he said jovially, clapping Tony on the upper arm briefly before turning to fully face me.

“Ah, of course. Nick Fury, this is Jennifer Thompson, my former assistant and newest member of the Avengers. Jen, Fury is the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the man that I’ve been speaking to about our current situation with Hydra.” Tony made the introductions politely, but the tightness around his mouth hinted at a tension that he couldn’t disclose in mixed company.

“Pleasure to finally meet you.” His large hand grasped mine for a strong handshake just teetering on painful.

I pulled it away as soon as possible, discreetly folding my hands together in front of me so as to deter any further physical interaction. “The pleasure is all mine, Director Fury.”

“Would you care to dance?” he asked without a smile. The emotion behind his offer was completely opposite to Thor’s earlier. While the golden god had been jovial and bright when he offered, Fury leveled me with a calculating stare that did nothing to hide the evaluation he was bestowing upon me.

I didn’t see how I had a choice in the matter. Not when it came to someone in a position to drastically help us or hurt us, as he saw fit. I plastered a smile on my face that didn’t reach my eyes and settled my hand into his. “Sure!”

If nothing else, I was grateful that Fury followed Tony and Thor’s lead and placed his hand just beneath my ribs on the bare skin of my back, and that his rigid arm held us at a reasonable distance away from one another. All I had to do was get through this dance and then I was heading back to my partner so he could scare off any more threatening men who just felt off in some odd way that I couldn’t pinpoint.

“You have caused quite a ruckus, young lady,” he commented, looking down his nose at me as he led us in slow circles around the dance floor.

“It wasn’t intentional,” I pointed out, doing my best to keep my voice calm and polite. It was working, so far.

“We at S.H.I.E.L.D. have been very curious about what makes you so special that Hydra would want you so badly.”

Exasperation creeped out of where I had poorly tucked it away, “If you ever find out, let me know.”

He turned me out of his arms and then back into him again, pulling me close enough that our chests touched lightly with each breath. I stiffened, but without making a scene I was stuck until the dance was over. “It is odd, if I may say so, that you were just an assistant for Tony and now you’re a member of the Avengers.”

My blood ran cold at the unspoken accusation beneath his words. “What exactly are you trying to say, Fury?”

He dropped his hands from me and shoved them into his pockets with a shrug of his shoulders that didn’t match his icy tone. “Only that it is peculiar for a nobody such as yourself to be thrust into this world, join the Avengers, cosy up with a villain like Loki, and become a target for Hydra all in the span of less than a year.”

I flexed my fingers by my side, and an empty champagne glass flew into my waiting hand without my consciously calling on it. His eye widened as he watched my fingers tighten around it before he smoothed a knowing smirk back onto his face. “Strike a nerve?” he asked, looking far too pleased with himself.

“No,” I tilted my head to the side and stared up at him with barely-restrained anger, “but I could strike one of yours.”

He leaned forward until I could feel his breath on my face, eyes flicking down to the glassware clenched in my fist. “Do it,” he challenged. “Prove to them that you’re the villain I know you are.”

My blood boiled and I was highly cognizant of the power that coursed beneath my skin. He straightened up to fully tower over me with a pleased grin. I clenched my jaw, fighting against my desire to drag him into an abandoned room and make him regret this unsettling conversation when a hand wrapped around my waist and turned me away from Fury.

I jerked my head up, ready to give whoever was holding me a piece of my mind when I realized it was Loki who was quickly leading me away. He brought me to a more crowded area of the dance floor, erasing the lingering feeling of Fury’s hand on my back with his own cool touch, his other pulling the glass from my hand to make it disappear before moving my now empty hand to perch upon his shoulder. Satisfied with how I was positioned, his hand ghosted up my back and the other curled around mine away from our bodies. “They’re watching every move you make,” he cautioned me softly, tracing his concerned gaze over my frowning face.

He guided me around the room in a slow, elegant waltz. It was all I could do to keep up with his graceful movements without stepping on his toes. Thankfully he had enough experience to compensate for my lack of dancing experience. We had both proven our prowess at grinding on each other at the club, but here, he shined. Like this, he was regal, graceful, powerful as he commanded the floor. Warmth filled his eyes as he stared down at me with the barest hint of a kind smile. With his hand cupping my shoulder blade and the other holding mine firmly, I was swept away into the measured rise and fall of our bodies. Somehow, staring into his eyes, trusting him to lead me in the unfamiliar steps, breathing the same air as him in front of so many people, this felt more intimate than any dance we had shared amongst sweaty bodies and thumping bass.

“And how is this any different than them watching me put Fury in his place?” I asked petulantly.

He chuckled and shook his head lightly. “Because that will surely not convince them of your nauseatingly good-natured personality, which I need to use to further my positive reputation among those who wish to see me locked away in prison for all eternity.”

I smacked his shoulder with a laugh.

The mirth fell from his features. His eyes warmed once again with sincerity, and I would’ve sworn up and down that my heart skipped a beat. He spun me away from him fluidly, only to pull me back into his arms with a quick tug on my hand. When I twirled back against him he kept still. His free hand tucked a bit of hair that had fallen from my bun behind my ear, and it curled around the side of my neck to caress my jaw. “In all honesty, I was going mad watching you in the arms of other men. You are the most exquisite woman in attendance tonight. Your impeccable waltz with a dashing prince?” He bent down to leave a tender kiss on my parted lips. “Let that be fodder for the pathetic press.”

How was I supposed to respond to something like that? Thank you for loving me so completely? My fingers rubbed at the smooth fabric of his tuxedo jacket, and after opening and closing my mouth several times hoping that a response would tumble out, all I could manage was, “My Loki.”

Pride raised his chin minutely and the most breathtaking smile tugged on his lips. A pleasant glow flooded through my body and I knew that I had to look like some lovestruck fool beaming up at him, but I didn’t care. The answering adoration shining in his eyes was all that I needed. The clicks of cameras were barely audible over the live band as he gathered me back into his arms to resume the dance.

The intensity of his words lingered in my mind, providing a welcome distraction from the unpleasant conversation with Fury, but not a lengthy one. At the song’s end, he brought us to a stop in the center of the now-deserted dance floor. He maintained eye contact with me as he brought my hand to his lips, brushing a delicate kiss there before bowing at his waist before me. Was he for real? I lowered my chin to my chest in response, curtsying seemed a little too much, and when I lifted my head I caught Fury watching us from behind Loki’s shoulder. He stood out like a sore thumb--analytical and alarming-- among the rest of the crowd that had stopped their mingling and dancing to watch the spectacle of the newest Avengers sweeping across the floor.

I squeezed Loki’s hand and closed the distance between us as another song began, opting for the more comfortable dancing position of high schoolers at prom everywhere, draping one arm around his neck and shifting back and forth on our feet. “I have a bad feeling about him.”

“Did he threaten you?” he questioned darkly after he slowly turned us around to see who I had been referring to.

“I don’t think so. I’m not sure,” I replied hesitantly, inching closer to him so that I could rest my forehead in the crook of his neck. I just wanted to soak up the comfort of his presence for a moment of peace, even if it was just a single moment.

He shifted my hand to his chest so that he could place both of his on my back, stroking the scarred skin with his thumbs as he held me close. I tensed up at the contact on my sensitive marred flesh. He swept his hands up to cover the majority of the scars, his touch gentle but unyielding. “They are part of you. They show your strength.”

“That’s what Nat said,” I muttered, lost in thought. I closed my eyes and willed the sway of our bodies and the beat of his heart to banish the crawling of my skin from the talk with Fury. Surely if Tony had been working with him to track down Hydra he couldn’t be all bad? Maybe he was like the rest of the onlookers and was trying to see what made me tick. He was the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and he would want to know more about me as such. He had to protect the people from any threats, and I wasn’t out of the woods on that front yet. Plus, my abilities were still not well known, and the public was itching for more information about me.

They were already getting plenty of details on my relationship with Loki, if him rescuing me from that conversation, leading me in a stunning beautiful waltz, and cradling me close to his body as we swayed back and forth were any indication. He wasn’t known for public displays of affection; he had a reputation as a stone-cold badass to uphold. But Fury wouldn’t care about that, except for what it meant concerning Loki’s alleged redemption and my role in it.

My train of thought was derailed when Loki stopped swaying and dug his fingertips into my skin roughly. I opened my eyes and craned my neck to look up at him. The rage and alarm that burned in his eyes as he stared at something behind me set my heart racing in my chest.

“Go find Thor and stay with him,” he commanded, storming off quickly towards the exit.

I was never one to follow directions to the letter. I looked around the room, spotting the big muscled man talking to someone pleasantly and holding a beer. Not wanting to waste time closing the distance between us I reached out, curling my fingers toward me so that the beer left his hand and flew into mine, dodging people and sloshing a bit of the fizzy liquid onto the floor on the way. He looked up in alarm and traced its path to see me watching him urgently. I set the drink on the tray of a passing waiter and jerked my head in the direction that Loki had gone before walking as quickly as I could after him. Best not to make a scene, even if we were stealing the limelight for most of the evening.

Thor caught up with me before I’d even reached the exit. “What is wrong?”

I didn’t slow down. If he wanted to have this conversation he was going to have to speed walk and talk with me. I only barely caught sight of the heel of Loki’s shoe as he turned the corner. Damn, he’s fast. “Loki told me to find you and stay with you. So that’s what I’m doing.”

“I do not believe this is what he had in mind,” he reasoned. His hand encircled my wrist to stop me from rushing after Loki.

I whirled around to face him. “Whatever he is chasing is obviously dangerous if he wants to keep me away from it. Now, do you want to leave him to face it alone or do you want to come with me to see what it is? I will go through you to get to him if I have to,” I threatened, flexing my hands just enough so that the metal supports around the windows behind us creaked in response. He may be almost a foot taller than me, a god with the power to smite me down where I stood, and a man I was beginning to call a friend once again, but I would fight him tooth and nail to get outside to stand by Loki’s side in whatever he had gone off to confront. “I’m not leaving him.”

Indecision warred on his face, his blue eye flicking between me and the exit to the building several times. The choice was made for him, however, when a great roar followed by a flash of green light came from outside, lighting up the large room through the windows.

“Loki!” he bellowed, sprinting outside.

I did my best to follow, but my legs were restricted by my long, tight dress. Frustrated, I snagged a glass from a woman as she walked by and smashed it on the floor. I used one of the shards to cut a slit on both sides of the dress, ignoring the cuts it left on my hand as I ripped at the slits until they reached my knees.

It was such a pretty dress, too.

Not what’s important right now. Focus, idiot.

Now free to move, I bolted outside, my eyes straining to find Loki. I barely heard Tony fly up behind me; the jets of his suit were a mere whisper against the blood rushing in my ears as I searched the darkness.

There. He was kneeling over the body of a man, his leathers covered in blood and growing dirtier with each powerful blow of his fist that he slammed into the man’s face. Thor was at his side in an instant, wrapping an arm around him and tossing him off and away from the man. He put his arms around Loki’s chest when he lurched to his feet to go back to his brutal task.

“Unhand me, brother!”

Trusting Thor to keep Loki contained, I ran over to the still figure on the ground, falling to my knees by his side. His face was an unrecognizable mess of blood and tissue that made me gag. I was forced to look away to compose myself. My watery eyes fell upon the cane the man held limply: thin, black, with the Hydra symbol along the side. A muffled groan came from the man below me, blood bubbling from his mouth as he tried to speak.

Kneeling on a cold concrete floor. Flashes of never-ending pain as a cane whipped across my back again and again. This man ordering my torture as he held it at his side.

Malfoy.

I snatched the cane from his slack hand, bringing it behind me and then bringing it down against the side of his head with it with all of my might. A feral cry between a sob and a scream tore through my painted lips. The sickening sound of wood meeting pulverized flesh would forever haunt me. But it wasn’t enough. I snapped the cane in half over my thigh, and with another agonized cry, shoved both jagged ends into his chest.

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt warm arms wrap around me. A tiny part of my brain told me not to attack Thor as he pulled me away from the grisly scene. Loki stood in front of me, wiping away my tears with his thumbs as he cradled my face in tender blood-stained hands.

“It’s over, love. It’s over,” he soothed, gently drawing me away from Thor to cradle my head against his chest. The blood on his leather armor seeped into my thin dress and raised goosebumps on my skin in conjunction with his cool touch, but I didn’t want to pull away. His presence was a balm on the overwhelming emotions swirling within me.

“Guys, now’s not the time,” Tony warned, landing heavily next to us. I looked up from where I had been staring blankly at Loki’s chest to take in the gathering crowd of people watching us with horrified expressions. Even worse were the photographers pushing their way through as they did their best to get a picture of the dead man and his murderers.

Shit.

“Can you conceal this?” I questioned quietly, leaving his arms to stand in between the crowd and the corpse behind me. As if that was going to help anything.

“They have already seen it,” he answered, staring down the throng coming closer with a wary expression in his eyes.

“You two get her out of here,” Tony instructed, flying forward to stop the incoming crowd before it could get any closer.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught the rest of the gala guests spilling out of the building, including the rest of the Avengers. Oncoming sirens sounded through the roar of the shocked crowd as news of what we had done traveled through them. I stayed silent as I fought to remain present. Even when forced to face the reality of having killed a man in cold blood, it was a better alternative than to descend into painful memories that Malfoy’s reappearance attempted to trigger.

Loki’s right. It’s over.

White-hot fire tore across my bicep. My shocked cry pierced my ears and the world moved in slow motion as my heart rate kicked up a notch in my chest. I looked down to see blood pouring down my arm, staining my alabaster skin red beneath the black lace. Arms wrapped around me, cushioning my head against wet leather as we tumbled to the frigid ground. Screams and gunshots sounded into the night. I tilted my head to see who had pushed me down, only to meet Loki’s narrowed eyes with my own.

The pulsing pain in my arm brought me back to reality, and Loki knelt over me, daggers materializing in his hands as he quickly took in the chaotic situation. Bullets whizzed passed us; the few that hit their mark bounced off of his armor uselessly. He needed protection. My searching eyes landed on the marble facade of the museum. It was difficult sprawled on the ground, but I grunted and arched my back with the effort of ripping a piece of thick stone from the wall, following the natural fissures of the rock to lessen the strain on my powers. I directed it in front of the largest concentration of civilians to deter any wayward bullets as they fled the scene. My flexed arm held it in place while I traced the bullets back to their source, barely able to make out dozens of men coming toward us from the shadows, the Hydra symbol barely visible on their bullet-proof vests.

“For fuck’s sake!” I yelled, getting to my knees beside Loki. It wouldn’t do to try to fight this fight prone beneath him.

“Get the civilians out of here!” Steve yelled, jumping into the fray.

After that, I was forced to focus on myself as another bullet lodged itself in the meat of my thigh. I let out a shriek of pain, pulling the marble previously used as a shield for long-gone bystanders over to protect myself and Loki. Peering from behind it, I could make out even more Hydra men approaching; the glint of their weapons caught the incoming blue and red emergency lights.

With a low groan, I strained all of the muscles in my body and ripped a deep hole in the earth beneath a small group of men advancing on Wanda and Vision. I didn’t watch as they fell into it, moving onto the next batch, but I heard their screams suddenly cut off as I closed the hole back up.

They wouldn’t be shooting at me or anyone I loved anymore.

Nat shouted out somewhere behind me, and I could only hope that she was okay as a man charged me from the darkness to my left. A green-lit dagger pierced his chest courtesy of Loki who was standing to my right. There was no time to thank him as several men ambushed us at once.

Loki’s savage grunts sounded in my ears as he went to work dispatching two men at the same time, the whirl of his cloak moving quickly in the night. I reacted on instinct to the first man who charged me, reaching out and clutching his gun in my bleeding fist just as it fired. I barely registered the burn it left on my hand and the bullet that barely missed my ear as I willed the metal to distort and meld together beneath my touch. I used the now-useless hunk of metal to hit the man in the temple, knocking him out cold.

My brain shut down and I became a machine. Each punch, kick, and use of my powers was done without thought. I sent men falling into deep chasms that I ripped into the ground, crushed them beneath broken hunks of marble, and pinned them beneath thick tree roots under my command and twisted bits of metal rent from police cars and nearby benches. The scent of iron filled my flared nostrils and screams of pain and gunshots rang in my ears. Each flare of agony throughout my body was ignored because if I gave any of it even a second of my attention, it could very well be the very last thought I had.

Above it all, I picked up on the piercing wail of a child. I searched for the cause frantically. There! Passed Wanda, who was throwing a man away from her in a wave of red light, was a little boy, crying as he huddled behind a bush. Casting one glance around to pinpoint where the majority of the Hydra agents were, I sprinted away, my hands twisting in the air as I willed the bush to grow and wrap around him. Seconds felt like an eternity until I was sliding to the ground before him, tearing up my knees and shins on small rocks and twigs. The branches parted for my grasping hands so I could pull the boy ensconced within free. He hung onto me desperately, burying his face in my neck as he sobbed. I curled my torso around his as best I could, remaining crouched as I pressed my back into the building and looked around for whoever he belonged to.

“It’s okay. You’re safe, just close your eyes. You’re safe with me,” I chanted into his ear, my hands protecting his head and supporting his bottom.

Finally, I spotted a frantic man shouting around the edge of the building. Nobody without a severe hero complex would risk such danger unless they had a damn good reason. Taking a chance that my instincts were right, I ran along the edge of the wall until I got to him.

He ripped the tiny child from my arms to hold him to his chest. “Timmy! Thank goodness!” he sobbed, meeting my eyes in a quick show of gratitude before dashing off into the night.

That issue resolved, I needed to find Loki. I scoured the battlefield lit up in a constant strobe of blue and red emergency lights, and white lightning for my dashing god in black and green. When I finally found him, battling gracefully against two men, it was just in time to watch a third man dash up behind him.

He drew a large knife from his thigh, quickly reached around Loki, and impaled it into his stomach.

Loki ripped the knife from his body and shoved it into the neck of the man in front of him with a feral snarl, letting loose a torrent of blood from them both. And then he fell to his knees, one hand clutching at the hole in his abdomen while the other threw the remaining two men back with a burst of green light.

I barely registered that the anguished scream that echoed throughout the night came from my own raw throat. My arms shot out to my sides, sending a shockwave through the ground that expanded out from me in a fast-moving circle. It knocked down all who were still standing as it reached them. When the wave came to Loki I threw my hand out, using its momentum to rip the ground beneath his knees away from the rest of the soil and hover in the air. I pulled my arms into my chest, sending the circle of thick soil--and the man on top of it--soaring to my side. My hands rose above my head and a wall of dirt as high as my waist shot up around us, shielding us from harm.

Loki struggled to stand, but he was too weak and fell back against the dirt wall with a pained cough. He trembled as he fought against blood loss and pain. “It seems… that I-I am injured,” he said, trying to smile but failing as his lips twisted to release a shaky gasp.

I dropped to my knees at his side, gathering his hands and holding them over his wound. Were they always this cold or had he already lost too much blood?

“You’re okay, you’re okay. It’s fine, you’re okay,” I stammered, tears thick in my throat and clouding my vision as my hands pressed against his to try to stem the bleeding.

“Battle suits you, l-litte one,” he choked out, a drop of blood spilling out of his mouth to roll down his chin. “What a shame-”

“Nope, cut that shit out. I’ve got you. I’m not allowing you to die, remember? Just hold your annoying ass on,” I commanded, refusing to let him say anything that even remotely resembled a goodbye. He wasn’t dying. I wouldn’t let him. He could stop bullets and one blade was what finally got to him? Unacceptable.

I fought the fear clawing at my chest, standing up from behind my barricade. I allowed myself one last moment of weakness to glance at Loki slumped against the barrier, breathing shallowly with his eyes closed, his brow furrowed.

Anger unlike anything I'd ever known slammed into me, setting fire to my blood and causing an electric green light to glow in my eyes and over my clenched bloodied fists.

It was easy enough to summon a jagged piece of metal from a broken street sign. Easier still to send that makeshift dagger through the neck of the nearest man. And then the one nearest to him. And again and again. I moved in an intricate dance above Loki until the only men left were fighting my fellow Avengers. Once I helped dispose of the last man Thor had been fighting--conductive metal plus lightning does quite a bit of damage--I screamed his name into the night, bringing the God of Thunder running to my side.

“No. No-no-no-no,” Thor cried, sliding one hand behind Loki’s neck and placing the other hand over his, applying pressure to the large wound in his midsection.

With one last burst of energy, I knocked down the wall of dirt that I had constructed so that the others could easily see us. Tears slid down my dirty and bloody face and sobs tore at my throat as I knelt back down beside Thor who was clutching Loki to his chest. My right hand tangled in his raven hair and my left pressed over Thor’s in what felt like a futile gesture.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t do anything besides stare down at the ashen face of my love.

Please, please, not him.

#to keep you safe #violence tw #blood tw #language tw #torture tw #loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #im so sorry

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psychospeak-blog · 6 years

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Won’t Go Slowly // 11

One // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten

A/N: SO much love to everyone who has been reading this series, liking it, reblogging it, or sending me messages about it. You all rock!

You just couldn't help it. Every single time you stood in front of a mirror, you found yourself turning to the side, smoothing your t-shirt or dress over you belly, imaging what you'd look like pregnant.

You'd also be lying if you said you'd hadn't found yourself scrolling through pages of nursery furniture on your phone, when you were trying to watch T.V. or after you crawled into bed at night. You knew, logically, that you weren't at that point yet, but you couldn't stop yourself from imagining.

"This is crazy," Danielle said, looking over your shoulder where you were signing and initialing the contract that was laid across your kitchen table. For some reason, you'd expected it to be a simple page but, no, it was a whole freaking booklet, pages and pages of legalese that basically said just the same thing over and over. You looked up at her, and she was smiling, and you knew instantly that she wasn't talking about just the paperwork.

"I know," you said, finally completely the last page and then stacking all of the papers on top of each other, and then going to look through your purse for a paper clip before you put it back in the envelope because you had a vision of Tyler opening it only to send the papers scattering all over the place, and then having to try and put them back in order.

"I totally knew he was serious," she said.

"What?" you flipped your head back around, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because," she laughed, "I didn't know how you felt about it. And it wasn't my place to say how I felt."

You sighed just out of instinct now. It wasn't that your Mom and sister weren't being supportive, but you knew they were hesitant. You knew they were holding back, that this was what you wanted, but that this wasn't how they expected it to go for you, and the thought of you doing it alone seemed overwhelming. They weren't downright telling you not to do it, but they weren't as excited as you wanted them to be. What's worse was that your sister had accidentally let it slip to your Dad, and he didn't even bother trying to hide how he felt.

"Hey," Danielle said, putting her arm around your shoulder, "don't worry about that. We've got you."

You didn't even have to ask who 'we' was.

"Seriously," she continued, "This kid is going to be so loved, it isn't even funny."

And you knew that was true. And you knew that you Mom and sister would get excited eventually, but you kind of felt like you just needed a bit of distance for now, to surround yourself with positivity.

So, after Danielle left, you scrolled through 'Babies R Us' on your phone for a few minutes, and then headed over to Tyler's house, that envelope securely on the passenger seat. Once you got there, you opened the door, immediately to be swarmed with dogs, tails wagging and tongues panting excitedly and you crouched down saying your hellos. Yeah, you definately had no shortage of love.

"At least let her get in the door, guys," Tyler laughed, rounding the corner.

You laughed, standing up, aware of the legal documents in your hand, which should probably not be crushed by paw prints.

"Is that the thing?" Tyler said, gesturing towards the envelope, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," you said, handing it over to him, "So, if you want to look it over with your lawyer and then just get it back to me when you're done."

"Mmmk," he said easily, taking it from you. You bent over again and thoroughly petted the dogs this time, who were still trailing around your feet. Once they seemed to calm down a little bit, you went where Tyler had gone, discovering him leaning over the kitchen counter, his tongue pulled between his lips as he flipped through the papers.

"What's this about gifts?" he asked, reading something and then looking over at you, "Because, I swear to god, I am buying your kid gifts, I really don't give a fuck what you say."

You laughed, and then frowned because that didn't make any sense at all, taking a look at the portion he was pointing to. "No, that says I'm not supposed to compensate you with gifts."

"Wait," he pouted at you, "Does that mean you're not going to buy me a birthday gift?"

"No," you laughed again, "just, like, you're agreeing that you understand that you're not going to be compensated in any way."

"Mmmk," he said easily, and then he picked up the pen that you didn't see on the counter and scrawled his name quickly across the bottom of the page.

"What are you doing?" you cried, because you couldn't even move fast enough to stop him.

He blinked, looking at you in confusion, "I thought you wanted me to sign it."

"After you got your lawyer to look at it," you said, running your hand through your hair, trying to troubleshoot, "Do you think we can just, like, rip it up?"

"What is the big deal?" he asked, "I thought you said this was, like, standard. You didn't get a lawyer."

Yeah, but he had money. And you assumed that there might be, like, some PR stuff that you'd need to be held to or something. "You should make sure that I, like, can't sue you or something."

He laughed like he couldn't even believe you were saying that, "You're not going to sue me."

You weren't, of course, but these papers were supposed to protect him just as much as it was supposed to protect you.

"It's not that complicated," he said, "I'm just giving up my parental - parental, is that a word?"

"Yes," you said.

"I'm giving up my parental rights, and you're not compensating me for anything."

"And you're not required to pay me child support," you added.

"See? It's all in there, you don't need to worry so much," he said, putting his arm around you, "By the way, Danielle said I need to tell you that you've, and I quote, 'got your shit together'."

You laughed, burying your head in his shoulder.

"She's totally right though," he said, and you could feel him looking down at you, just waiting for you to explain.

"My sister accidentally told my Dad I'm going to try and have a baby. On my own," you said, "And he didn't, I don't know, didn't get why I would want to do that."

"Fuck your dad," Tyler said suddenly, and then seemed to regain himself, "Sorry, but fuck your dad."

You laughed, because it was no secret that you didn't have the closest relationship with your dad, especially since your parents had split when you were young, so you'd been raised pretty much just by your mom. Now that you thought about it, you supposed that was why your mom was likely hesitant about this whole thing, because she had been a single mother. But you were also going into this with the knowledge that you would be, and you were prepared for it. And you also had a great job, with benefits and a childcare centre, so you wouldn't need to try and work multiple jobs like your mom had to try and make ends meet.

"He's probably just jealous," Tyler added, "I'm sure he knows for sure that you're going to be a better Dad AND Mom that he ever was."

"Tyler..."

"I'm serious," he said firmly, "And you know that if you need an actual man to help teach your kid....man stuff, I'm here."

"Man stuff?" you laughed, "what man stuff?"

"Like, fishing and...." he said, "well, that's not really a man thing, really. I don't know actually. But I'll buy a book or something."

You laughed again, because you were pretty sure no such book existed, but it really was the thought that counted. "I just wanted to wait to tell him until after I got pregnant, though," you told him.

"Yeah, don't worry babe, you're going to be pregnant super quick," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, "I have really excellent sperm."

"No, you don't," you laughed, pushing him away and you could see him frowning, "I've seen your test results."

"They said it was good," he said, his arm crossed over his chest, and you suspected that this was something that he wanted to brag about to probably everyone, only then he'd have to explain why he actually knew about that, and you knew he wouldn't do that to you.

"Yeah, it's great," you agreed, "just not off-the-charts spectacular like you seem to think."

"Whatever," he complained, even though he was laughing so you knew he wasn't actually offended, "I'm still going to get you pregnant. It's my new summer project."

So, at first his summer project was to find you a boyfriend and now it was to get you pregnant? "Why do your summer projects always have to include me?" you asked, wondering why he couldn't do something normal for a summer project like build a shed or something. It wasn't that you were complaining, of course, but calling it a summer project was just a little too much.

"Because, I don't get to see you much during the season," he said, placing a kiss on the top of your head, "Duh."

48 hours.

As you got in your car, ready to drive to work, you couldn't help noticing that in 48 hours time, you'd be at your appointment.

As you pulled out of the driveway, you used your voice to command your bluetooth to call Tyler.

"Hey," he answered, "what's up?"

"So, you know you can't masturbate or have sex for the next two days, right?" you asked.

He laughed, "Well, you could have at least says 'hi' back to me first."

"Sorry, hi," you said sincerely, "but you know, right?"

"Yes, I'm aware."

"Well, make sure you don't forget," you said, "Maybe you should...." you trailed off, looking over your shoulder as you changed lanes, trying to think what he could do. Maybe put a post-it note on his pillow or something?

"You want to come supervise me?" he asked gruffly.

"Sorry," you cringed, "I just want to make sure everything goes right."

"It will," he reassured you, "But I got my part covered, okay? Trust me. You just have to worry about your part."

You took a deep inhale and exhale, knowing that he was right. "Okay."

"Good," he said decidedly, and then added in a softer voice, "You alright?"

And you told him that you were because you were, for the most part, going about your next two days focused on your work, and being secure in knowing that everything that needed to be done was going to be done. The night before though, you were restless, and you didn't think you'd ever be able to sleep.

You picked up your phone, and then set it down, remembering that Tyler had to be at the clinic two hours before you did. But then you picked it up again, texting him 'Are you still awake?"

Tyler: Yeah

Tyler: Can't sleep?

You: No :(

Tyler: Come over

Tyler: Bring your PJ's

You smiled, gathering up your pyjamas, a toiletry bag, as well as what you'd need for tomorrow, driving over to his place, you body pumping with adrenaline. It wasn't really nerves, though, not really, more just really a state of anxiousness, of just wanting it to be tomorrow already so you could just do it.

Tyler suggested you take the dogs for a walk, and you assumed this suggestion was due to the fact that you were pretty much pacing in his kitchen or raising yourself up on your heels, pretty much unable to stand still.

So you did, enjoying the cool, night air, the quiet sidewalk illuminated by streetlights, so it felt like you were pretty much the only ones who existed.

"At least give me one," you sighed, Tyler slowed down to untangle the leashes yet again. This time you stopped, extending your hand.

"I got it," he protested, and then you followed the line of his eyesight to a quick glance at your belly and....oh.

" Tyler, I'm not pregnant yet," you laughed, " And even if I was, I can still walk a dog."

He gave you a sheepish look, handing over one of the leashes. You walked in silence for a moment, your mind wandering. "Tyler?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think it's weird we're still friends?"

"Weird? No, why would it be weird?"

You stopped, because apparently there was an extremely interesting tree. "I just mean, do you even still talk to anyone we went to high school with?"

"Other than you, no."

"Exactly," you said, " and, like, did you even think that we would be the ones who would still be friends? We didn't even really like each other when we first met, like, if it wasn't for Kirsten--"

"Why are you getting all philosophical and shit?" Tyler interrupted. "Obviously we were meant to be friends, it doesnt really matter why, does it? Seriously, youre so weird sometimes."

"No," you reasoned, "I was just thinking about it though."

"Sometimes life works in weird ways," he said. He was quiet for a moment, and all you could hear was the sound of your shoes on the pavement. "Y'know, you've actually been my friend longer than anyone. Which means that you've got a headstart on being my best friend of all time."

"And do I get a prize if I stick around?"

"The prize is getting to be my friend," he scoffed, "Obviously."

When you got back to Tyler's place, you both got ready for bed, and he insisted that you watch a movie, despite the fact that you thought he looked rather tired.

"I feel like it's a good idea for you to stay here tonight," Tyler said, as you climbed into his bed, a wall of dogs practically separating the two of you, "it'll align our chakras."

"Align our chakras?" You laughed, "you're so weird."

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you adjusted the pillows behind your back, so you were sitting up. Although, with the way the dogs moved into the now vacated space, you weren't sure you'd be able to lay down again. He really needed a bigger bed, honestly. "Moana?" You questioned, taking a look at the television screen.

" Yeah, it's a happy movie," he said, "plus, I also wanted to see what all the hype was about."

You laughed softly, but settled in. However, as you suspected, he didn't even make it 15 minutes in. You still weren't ready to fall asleep, but you really did feel a sense of heaviness and calm take over your body, cuddling up and watching the movie in its entirety.

You heard Tyler get up in the morning, but he took care to keep quiet, so you were able to squeeze in a little extra rest. Once you got up and got ready though, he still hadn't come back home, like you'd thought he would. A small part of you worried that something hadn't gone quite right, but there were no calls on your phone, so you assumed he must have gone to work out or something, even though you also thought he would have told you.

As you drove, you focused on keeping your breathing steady and deep, stretching your neck out when you were stopped at an intersection, trying to keep your grip relaxed on the steering wheel.

Once you got there, though, you were on a mission. So much so, that you barely noticed the familiar figure sitting in a chair along the wall, legs extended and ankles crossed. He looked over the magazine and gave you a small smile.

" What are you doing here?" You asked quietly, keeping your voice low like you were in a library because it somehow seemed appropriate for the situation.

"Waiting for you," he said simply. But, even though you were here now, he made no effort to move, looking like he was comfortable for the long haul.

You looked over at the receptionist and then back at him, "It's going to be awhile."

"I know, I'll wait."

Sure enough, when you came out, he was still there, setting down the magazine and standing up, slowly loitering off in the back of the waiting room as you made an appointment with the receptionist to have your blood taken in two weeks, meeting you at the door when you were done, holding it open so you could pass under his arm. "Thank you."

"Mhmm," he responded, as you stepped into the quiet holiday. "how was your thing?"

"It was..." you paused, not knowing how to quite explain it, "fine. Kind of weird, but fine."

He reacted lightly, with a quick glance to make sure you really were okay. "Mine was great, thanks for asking," he said, "they gave me lube AND porn."

"Oh my god, Tyler...shhh..." you said, your face flaming red even though he was the one who was speaking incredibly loud in the otherwise pretty quiet medical building, and you could only assume everyone in the waiting room of the podiatrist's office you just past by had heard him.

Instinctively, you started walking faster, but he caught up to you, "I mean, the porn kind of sucked, but it was still porn," he said, just as an older lady stepped out of the optometrist's office looking at the two of your sternly, your eyes widening, and your gaze shooting nervously towards her, but Tyler just made a snorting noise as he tried not to laugh, finally bursting out laughing once she disappeared around the corner.

"You're going to get us kicked out of here," you said in a harsh whisper, grabbing his wrist and tugging it once to get him to move.

"Sorry, sorry," he said quickly, neither of you talking until you reached the bottom of the stairs, heading towards the doors, "So can I take you out for lunch? Or do you have to, like, lay down or something?"

"I already did," you said, "that's what took so long."

"Oh," he said, his hand going up to scratch the back of his neck, "you don't have to, like, lay down with your legs up in the air now or something?"

"No, that's not how it works," you said, an amused tone to your voice, "we can get lunch."

"'K," he replied lightly. He offered to take his car and then come back later to grab your car so you agreed, although you noticed once he pulled out of the parking lot he looked at you just once with a sly grin on his face and then pushed a button on the console, directing his attention back to the road.

Music filled the car and you were trying to identify the song, until you heard the opening "Baby, ohhh..." from the Backstreet Boy's "Quit Playing Games with My Heart" and could see Tyler grinning widely at you and you started laughing, "Oh my god, seriously?"

"It made you laugh," he said, "I feel like that's a good thing."

He turned it up louder and, while you knew the lyrics off by heart, you couldn't help but laugh, thinking that this song was so inappropriate in that it had nothing to do with babies at all, and wasn't even a happy song, for god's sake, but Tyler kept doing some weird car dancing thing move, except for when he had to stop to sing all the "Oh Baby Baby"'s very loudly and very poorly, but also very enthusiastically, looking at you each time the word 'baby' was mentioned.

You couldn't help but dissolve into giggles in the passenger seat, partially concerned someone was going to drive by and recognize him. "You are such a dork."

#wont go slowly #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin #series #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine

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