#her final miscarriage almost killed her. and yet the fact that the healers had to advise against trying again seems to imply that it wasn't

[thespottedcreature]

Loki - Please

Warnings: Torture (not graphic), angst

Word count: 2110

Other: You are Loki's wife of many centuries. Inspired by a picture I found on Pinterest.

"Please! Take me, not her! Please, I beg you! She won't survive!" Loki rammed his whole body to the wall with pure desperation as the guards hauled you away yet again. It was the third time this week, and it was really taking a toll on you as well as Loki. It killed him on the inside to hear your screams but not be able to help you. There was also another reason he prayed that they would stop. You were pregnant, and even if it didn't show yet, the blood loss and shock might cause a miscarriage.

Loki had tried everything to make the guards take him instead of you. He had tried insulting and bribery and threatening and pleading but none worked. Every time he asked why they did this, they gave the same answer.

"King's orders." The same man that he had once called father was now torturing his wife. Anger and desperation fought inside Loki, but he couldn't do anything, he could just listen to your screams and pleas.

After what felt like forever, Loki had dislocated his shoulder trying to break out, and you were brought back. The guards had to half carry you, you were so weak that you could barely stand. They shoved you inside the cell next to Loki's and left the dungeons after glancing at Loki, who was holding his bloody and wrung shoulder. You had sunken down next to the wall that was closest to Loki, and he hurried to you and sunk down to see you. Your cheeks were covered in tears but you were breathing steadily.

"My dearest?" Loki called you, and you lifted your head tiredly to look at him. As he met your gaze and noticed the shiver you did every time you had to move, his own tears got free. He placed his hand on the wall, and you placed yours opposite of his. This was the closest you got to a touch, as it seemed that Odin enjoyed torturing the two of you, locking you up next to each other but not being able to physically touch.

"Don't cry, love. We will get through this." You promised him in a quiet voice, and a shiver ran down Loki's back as he realized how weak it was.

"I'll get you out of here. I promise." He whispered to you.

"I don't care who I have to beg from, I will get you out." He promised and meant every word. He hoped that his brother would help him, even after the attack on New York.

At that moment, the doors opened and Thor walked in with a young healer woman and gestured quietly at your cell. Loki tensed but relaxed soon as he saw the woman signed to you and you answered weakly and then she started to tend to your wounds. The healer, Anastasia, had been born deaf but you had always fought for her right to get to act as a hearer and after years of persistent work from both her and you, she became one of the best ones, much to Odin's dismay.

"Brother," Thor spoke to Loki, who slowly moved his gaze from you to the taller man.

"We need to get her out of here." Thor's words caught Loki by surprise as he was ready to beg him to smuggle you out.

"Why would you help her? You are the one that brought her here, remember?" Loki was suspicious, and Thor's eyes got a sad twinge.

"Trust me, I would have never brought her here if I had known that this is the treatment she would receive. And I can't let my niece or nephew die." Loki's head shot up to see the gentle look in his brother's eyes.

"Yes, I know about her pregnancy. We have to get her out of here soon. Tomorrow night, be ready to run. Get as much rest as you can. I will assign so many guards to the north border so they don't have the resources to torture her again." Loki shivered at the casual tone Thor was using but didn't say anything.

- - - -

The whole day went by in a flash, and soon it was night and Thor sneaked down after giving the other prisoners some sleeping draught so they wouldn't be able to tell who did this. You were still weak from the weeks of malnourishment and torture, and you could barely stand up so Thor had to help you out of the cell. He opened Loki's who stepped forward and gently cupped your face. Even in your weakened state, you were just as beautiful as the day he had met you.

"My dearest." He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and you caressed his cheek with your hand. You couldn't get words out as you were too happy to finally be with him again.

Your happiness was short lived as Loki gently pushed you back into Thor's chest after one last kiss and he kicked the wall to activate the door again.

"Loki! What are you doing?" Thor questioned, but Loki just shook his head and gestured to the door with a hasty wave.

"Take her and go. It will be easier for you to get out if it's just the two of you." Thor seemed to hesitate and you leaned into the wall that yet again separated the two of you.

"Love." You begged, but Loki took a step back even if he felt like his heart was torn into shreds.

"Go!" He commanded Thor, who gently picked you up and carried you away while you tried your best to get back to your husband, crying for Thor to let you go.

Thor sprinted across the city, hiding in the shadows of the palace and he carried you to the Bifrost. It was clear that Heimdall had been waiting for you, because as soon as the two of you arrived at the bridge, he and Thor exchanged a few, quick words before Heimdall sent you away. That was the moment you blacked out and Thor felt his heart jump as he hoped it was not too late for you or the baby.

The Avengers living in the tower were surprised, to say the least, as Thor turned up to their doorstep with an unconscious woman on his arms, almost frantic that she needed to be saved. He refused to answer any questions.

"I'll answer your questions after you have helped her." Was all he said until she was wheeled off on a gurney. Bruce had started to work on her with other doctors, and the other's were looking at Thor expectingly as he paced back and forth in the waiting room.

"Ah, yes. Answers. I think I promised those." Thor muttered and turned to the team.

"What do you want to know?" He asked, fearing that they would refuse to have you there as soon as they heard who you were. And yet, the first question was the one he feared the most and it came from Tony.

"Who is she, Thor?" Before answering, Thor took a deep breath and hoped that they would understand and listen to everything he had to say.

"She is Loki's wife. Before you say anything, I just want you to know that she was tortured multiple times a week and I just couldn't watch her or my brother to suffer any longer. And I could't let my nephew or niece to die." There was a silence that was broken by Steve.

"I think you did the right thing." This earned him a few glances that read that "are you out of your mind?!" but he ignored them. He turned to them.

"Even if the child is Loki's, the baby is still innocent and I believe she is too. We can't turn them away now. What kind of heroes would we be then?" The team shared a glance and that was all it took. No words needed. You would stay there.

- - - -

It had been almost a year since you had gotten back, and even if the scars on your body never disappeared, you healed and got your strength back relatively fast to give birth to a healthy baby girl. She had your eyes but Loki's black hair and magic. The whole team soon got over the fact that you were Loki's wife, and Clint often joked about how did Loki get so patient and kind wife and a well-behaved kid. Popetina (your daughter) did still have a little bit of mischief in her blood.

"What did you expect, she is Loki's daughter after all?" Natasha, who you had gotten close to and who had been named Popetina's godmother had asked Tony when he had found all of his suits colored bright green and gold.

You loved your new home and your daughter, but you still missed Loki. Every. Single. Day. Nat tried helping you to get your mind off of it and it worked for a while but he never truly left your mind. Thor was rarely there, so you didn't have any way of knowing if he was alright or even alive. Thor had, however, managed to smuggle the photo album to you, filled with pictures of you and Loki. Popetina (your daughter) could now tell Loki out of a picture and would scream "Dada! Dada!" every time his photo was in her line of sight.

One normal day, you were putting Popetina down on her nap in your room when there was a mysterious green smoke in the living room, followed by a flash of light. There stood the brothers, and Loki was struggling to support Thor, who had a huge bleeding gash on his side.

"Hello." Loki greeted with a tone that was meant to be casual but there was a clear nervous undertone. Steve and Bucky helped Thor to the medbay when the rest of the team stayed and leered at Loki, who stood clearly nervous and bothered in the middle. Natasha sneaked off, realizing that their old squabble could wait after you had met him. She knew how much it tore you apart.

You were expecting it to be your favorite food or something like that after Natasha had dragged you to the living room for a surprise. You would have guessed what it really was as you entered the room. Your hands flew to your mouth and an audible gasp left your lips as you saw him standing in the middle of the room. All heads turned to you, and as your eyes met, your first tear ran down your cheek. You didn't know what to do. You wanted to scream and yell at him for staying behind but you also wanted to sob into his neck as he held you tight. Loki decided for the both of you as he stepped to you with a few long strides and pulled you to his chest tightly. You buried your head into the crook of his neck and sobbed, squeezing him tightly as you feared he might disappear any minute. Nat ushered everyone out so the two of you could be alone and you were thankful for that.

You lifted your head from his neck and studied his face and inhaled his scent. It was just as good as you remembered it to be and his eyes were just as green as they always were. Loki on the other hand just stared at you, not completely sure that if this was a dream. You were there and you were alright. He slid his hands to your waist and pulled you closer as he placed his lips gently on yours. The kiss was long and sweet, and you didn't want it to end as you feared he might disappear when it did. When the kiss ended and he was still there, you pulled back and grabbed his hand.

“Come. There is someone I want you to meet." Loki's pulse quickened at your words, and he couldn't speak as he saw the little girl sleeping in her bed. Wrapping his arms around you, he wished he would stay there forever. The moment was perfect. He was sure nothing could top it until he heard the one word that turned his entire world upside down. And he didn't complain one bit as he had everything he had ever wanted and more.

These are old. Please don’t judge.

[ofalderaan]

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches...  Chapter 169 - A Safe Haven

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit…

MASTERLIST

Chapter 169 - A Safe Haven

[Blake takes time to heal and find her way, just as a familiar face shows up at her door.]

Time was a good healer, or at least, so people said.

And yet until now, Blake had never in her life realised, just how much that saying rang true.

But as the days slipped by, one, after another, after another. That hole inside of her, that ache, that anxiousness slowly began to fade little by little.

Day one here might as well not have happened.

Blake had hovered around, closing herself away from the world, latching the window and bolting the doors with shaking hands, and lying there, trembling and afraid. But not afraid of the walkers she could hear roaming about outside, but instead for her own sanity.

She had felt like she was in a dream she could not escape, being swallowed whole by something far bigger than herself, knowing that her light was almost gone and her air supply was diminishing by the second.

She was choking….dying...lamost fading from this world.

And one more push was all it would take, for the Blake that everyone knew, to be gone for good.

But time WAS a good healer and even by the following day, a fresh new morning, Blake felt herself regaining consciousness even just a little.

And so she had sat there, mourned, doubled over in pain from the endless tears and grief.

And yet somehow it was as though the pain had began to lessen.

What had swallowed her ,was slowly letting her go. She could see the light. Feel the breeze and the sun on her skin again.

And it had taken her at least a day of this achingly slow healing, for Blake to wake herself up somewhat, snapping out of her daze a little, and realising she hadn't eaten or drunk anything in days, the pain of hunger and dehydration hitting her hard, making her more tired than she needed to be.

But delving into the pack of supplies Arat had left for her, Blake had devoured two apples and a small packet of dry crackers in a matter of seconds, washing it down with an entire bottle of clean water.

Then it was like freight train of realisation had dawned on her, sitting there on the bare floor of the house, shut inside in the darkness, even though it was the middle of the day.

She was really here.

All this, it wasn't just a dream. This was real.

She was alive and still surviving. And that could only be good. Desperate thoughts of no longer wanting to exist on this earth, disappearing like wisps of smoke on the wind, filtering away from her mind.

Blake could feel that pain still sitting in her stomach now, but she knew that she had done the right thing by coming here, the peace and quiet of this place settling her nerves, allowing her time to breathe properly again.

She knew she had gone through a lot, and realising how much she had lost and had had to endure over this last couple of weeks, really became obvious to her, perhaps more than it ever had after her last two miscarriages.

For Blake loved Negan, more than she could ever say, and the guilt of being responsible for losing his child like that, well it had almost tipped her over the edge, drowning her in a sea of hopelessness and hurt for what had felt like a lifetime.

But here and now, in this place away from the politics and the claustrophobic walls of the Sanctuary, Blake felt like her thoughts could be her own again.

Things far more clear here, her priorities straighter, and her fears seeming like nothing but nightmares, long-since passed.

After a night of bad sleep on the couch that first night, her mind whirring, heart still pounding and breaths still hard to come by, by the second day the blonde woman seemed to settle somewhat, finally opening the windows and shutters to the mid-afternoon sunshine.

She had breathed in the air, cleansed her lungs and closed her eyes, feeling everything...every moment of just being alive. Just being Blake.

And so, feeling determined, she set to work, clearing out all the garbage left here by people who had passed by along the way. Making the place feel more like a home. At least for now anyway.

Blake had swept away the dust and the dirt, distracting herself from her thoughts as best she could, cleaning up feeling almost like therapy to her now.

It was a project that she spent the entire day working on between the tears and the breakdowns that were inevitable in her current mental state. But as the hours slid by, even these were becoming few and far between, which was a sweet kind of progress.

Blake mainly stuck to the living room, not really wanting to venture into the bedrooms yet, feeling almost as though she was invading someone else's memories. But there was more than enough work here and in the kitchen to be getting on with. And yet before she knew it, the white painted floors had been swept, grime cleaned away, and the place felt fresher than it likely had in a long time.

This was a place that Blake could get better in, she was sure of it.

It was fate that had brought her back here.

To this place so far removed of everything that had happened.

It was almost like a vacation in a strange sort of way. A change to recharge her batteries and heal.

And so Blake had made the most of the peace and quiet, not even bothering to pick up one of the well-thumbed paperbacks that sat on a shelf in the living room, but instead, sitting on the flowery couch, legs drawn up beneath herself, staring into space.

And here, the bruises of her past and the things she had been through, didn't seem so a bad.

There was no longer this overwhelming panic and anxiousness than there had been when Arat had first brought her here.

Her mind had been gone then….a million miles away...but now the smoke had cleared and everything now seemed bright and stark and real. And although it all still hurt, oh-so terribly, Blake could now see the hope and the future she could have.

All was not lost.

She just needed to keep on pushing forwards, patching herself up, giving herself this much needed time.

The days gave her a chance for this type of reflection.

But it was when the nights came, that the guilt and the hurt seemed to flood back in. And yet again, Blake was left with this sense of self-loathing for what she had done. Not only for the miscarriage, but also feeling responsible for walking out on those she was supposed to have loved.

For Blake did love Mia and Negan with all her very being.

But she had not been well. She knew that now. Realising that this was something she had never been through before.

This was depression. Pure and simple.

And yet how could she justify that to Negan or to a two year old little girl, huh?

No matter what. She would always be the villain who had left them. And it wouldn't surprise her, if after this, Negan never wanted to see her again.

But she pined for him and Mia as she lay there head tucked into a pillow, her face wet with tears.

The nights feeling long and endless with no one to hold her tight, or whisper soft words of comfort into her ear.

Despite the last few days of Fall having been warm, with a soft and welcome sunshine warming the earth, the night's that followed had grown cold.

So cold in fact, that Blake had forgone sleeping in one of the bedrooms of the pretty white house, but had instead dragged one of the smaller mattresses into the living room, clearing a place for it on the floor in front of the fire, and finding clean sheets and linen in one of the closets in the hallway.

And so, Blake had wrapped herself in a feather-down comforter to keep herself warm, and laying there, had wept silently.

Wept for what she had lost, but also what she had been forced to give up. And she just prayed now that someday Negan and Mia would forgive her.

Despite Blake rationing, her supply of bottled water had almost run out by the third day here, but to her relief, on her first venture outside to kill a walker that had become caught on the nearby fence surrounding the small home, she had discovered a small well and water pump around the rear of the house that smelled as clean and as fresh as could be.

To some, this place could have been considered a paradise, especially compared to the horrible conditions that faced people living out there on the roads.

But to Blake, this was just her safe haven. A place she could start to feel well again, with no disturbances.

But late on that third day, Blake had been boiling some water in a pan over the fire, when she had heard a set of wheels screech to a halt somewhere nearby.

It was so quiet around here that even the most distant noises caused her ears to prick up. But she flinched now. realising that this noise was far closer.

Moving swiftly to the window she peered out, her heart pounding knowing that if someone had come here then she would have little to no way of defending herself. But that had been her own decision to come her, to risk herself like that.

But just a few short moments later, and to Blake's utter relief, a familiar face appeared through the dense trees that surrounded the smallholding.

The blonde woman took in a breath, hurriedly moving around the the front door and opening it tentatively, only to see Arat pushing her way through the low white picket front gate.

The dark-haired woman, today wearing a khaki green shirt with a bandana over her dark hair, a large knife in one hand and a huge bulging green duffel bag in the other, glanced up, offering Blake a surprised-looking smile as she approached the front door.

"Hey," she said, the smallest of frowns grazing over her temples as she stared up, her eyes searching Blake's face.

"Hey," replied Blake back, her voice croakier than she had expected after days of speaking to no-one. She gave a small cough, but barely had a second before Arat had pocketed her knife and pulled the blonde into a one-armed hug.

Blake closed her eyes, feeling a warmth flood over her that she had missed these last few days. She had needed this time alone, but it was good to see another human being again. Especially someone she considered a friend.

Arat slowly pulled herself away, holding Blake at arms length and studying her features.

"You look better," she commented in a low voice. "You doin' ok?"

Blake gave a fragile nod. "Y-Yeah I-I think so…" she said tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.

In all honesty she did feel better, but having Arat here only sought to bring back that anxious feeling. Almost as though she was worried now that Arat was going to try and drag her home too soon.

Because she couldn't…

No...

She wasn't ready yet…

She just wasn't...

Blake felt a panic begin to rise within her.

But it seemed as though Arat could sense that instantly too, her hand moving up to Blake's cheek quickly.

"Shhh, B, its ok, its ok…" she said in a soothing voice, how frown deepening with a look of concern. "I'm just here to see how you're doing and bring you some supplies, that's all."

She pulled away and lifted the duffel again in her hand, patting it, as Blake nodded hurriedly suddenly feeling foolish.

She knew she was still not over all that had happened, but she was getting there, of course she was. But she just needed more time.

Blake turned, moving over to the far side of the room, arms clutched over herself before turning back to Arat who had made her way inside, and was now gazing around.

"Wow, you've done a great job with the place," she said placing the bag down onto the floor near to the door.

Blake opened her mouth to reply before closing it again unable to think of what to say.

For she knew what she wanted to ask. What she was so desperate to ask instead.

And she only lasted about half a minute before unable to stop herself any longer, the words tumbled from her mouth.

"I-Is Negan ok? A-And Mia?" she asked in a voice of desperation before she could stop herself.

The blonde drew her thumbnail up to her mouth, her heart hammering away in her chest.

She so hoped they were.

But Arat just offered her a sympathetic look, nodding.

"They're fine….they're….good," nodded the dark-haired woman.

And Blake nodded back, her eyes flickering down to the floor.

She wanted to cry.

God, she missed them so much, but she knew how much they would probably resent her, almost pointless, concern after all she had done to them.

"G-Good," Blake merely replied. "I'm really glad."

But at her words Arat crossed the room towards her, tilting her head to the side.

"Listen, B, Negan understands," she said in a honest voice. "And him and Mia...well, you should see them both. She's strutting around the place attached to his hand like she's his shadow."

At this Blake's face broke into a smile. Her first in what must have been a week.

She clutched at her mouth, trying to hold in tears of happiness that threatened to overwhelm her, so delighted to hear that they were both ok.

Well, more than ok by the sounds of it.

God she missed them.

Mia of course, her little laugh, the feeling of her sleeping in Blake's arms, everything…

But it was how much she really truly missed Negan that became wholly apparent to her now.

Their journey had been a rocky one. A rollercoaster, full of ups and downs and more twists than she could have ever expected.

But he was hers, and she was his, and she hoped now that Arat was right, and that he really did understand why she had left him.

Not because she didn't love him. But because she hadn't been in a fit state to stay.

Blake gave a sniff, nodding now as her happy and water-filled eyes reached the ceiling.

"Oh Blake…" said Arat, concernedly.

But Blake shook her head quickly and flashed the dark-haired lieutenant a smile.

"It's ok, really it is," she reassured her, her green eyes flickering back to hers. "I'm getting better I know I am. I just….I'm happy they have each other."

"And they'll have you," Arat said firmly. "You just need time to get back to feeling yourself again."

Blake slowly nodded her head once more, knowing that Arat was right.

She really appreciated everything she had done for her now. This wonderful woman, who at first glance would seem tough and uncaring, but deep down was just like anyone else here, just doing what they had to to survive.

"Listen," Arat said, worrying at her lip with her teeth. "I've gotta go. I can't stay. A whole bunch of us are gonna out on a run tonight and I need to get back."

Blake nodded, perhaps a little sadly, although understanding that Arat had already done more than enough just by coming back here and checking on her, offering her even just the smallest amount of well-needed human contact.

Arat nodded back towards the duffel bag set down by the door.

"I've brought some extra supplies for you, just some food, bathroom stuff, clothes…" she reeled off, letting out a sigh. "But if there's anything else you need, you still have the radio right?"

Blake nodded, glancing over toward the side table in the far corner of the ample living room, where the small black radio lay, next to the large hunting knife Arat had given to her on their arrival here. Blake hadn't touched either since she had set them both down three long days ago, avoiding them completely and leaving the radio intentionally switched off.

"Alright, well…" Arat said hovering for a second, before quickly reaching forwards and tugging Blake into another warm and comforting embrace.

Blake hugged her back tightly, closing her eyes just for a moment, before Arat pulled away with a hiss.

"Well...I'd better be off…" she said turning on her heel and making for the door. But she stopped suddenly, turning back to Blake one last time. "And look, just so you know….I haven't told anyone you're here...not even Negan….But if he asks-?"

Blake took a deep breath into her lungs now.

"You can tell him…" replied Blake slowly. "But only if he asks, only if he wants to see me."

Arat stared back at Blake silently.

And with one last lingering nod, the dark-haired lieutenant finally tore her eyes away from Blake's and headed out of the door and back down the garden path as the blonde woman watched her go.

And even as she closed the door, shutting herself away from the world once more, Blake was unable to shake her thoughts from Negan and Mia. Wondering whether or not, the day would come, when Negan actually did want to see her again. Whether he believed she still deserved his love.

But unbeknownst to her, that day was almost upon her.

For miles and miles away at the Sanctuary, Negan was pining for Blake just as much as she was pining for him.

And nothing, not anything now, was gonna change that...

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