This little number was inspired by a gif set over at tumblr.

Link: post/71372793864/lokiquotes-i-couldnt-protect-her-ok-i

Ok… I can't believe I'm actually going to try this…..

—

It was his fault.

It was his fault.

Loki snarled as another pulse of pure energy exploded from his body, creating a wave that sent hand-carved wooden fragments flying about his white cell. His cage- for that is was it was, regardless of what the others said- was utter destruction. Chairs that had once been upright and decorated with intricate designs and embroidered cushions now laid charred and broken, the pieces scattered about on the pale floor. His bed was twisted and overturned, the sheets torn asunder and the pillow shredded beyond recognition. Shattered glass littered the pale floor along with specks of blood where the addled deity had stepped on them with his bare feet, the shards cutting into his skin without the slightest hint that Loki had even felt the stings. Black scorch marks were plastered all over the alabaster walls and floor, even the ceiling was not spared the Trickster's wrath.

Loki's breath was ragged as he he wildly tore at whatever his bloodied hands could find, trying desperately to release the pent up fury and despair that was running rampant within him. His rage-fueled mind barely even registered of the throb of pain as his hands furiously slammed against the magical barrier that separated Loki from the untouched hall beyond. Scratched were visible all along his arms up to the sleeve of his filthy shirt. The dull green garment was ragged and shredded at the hem. His dark trousers were spotted with dusty splotches from his destruction. His hair, inky black locks usually groomed back neatly, was a wild mane of tangled raven hair. His emerald eyes were alight with unfiltered rage and despair, his face contorted with a myriad of emotions.

Though his prison cell barred any magic from leaving the barrier, it could not stop the connection that Loki had to a certain mortal. His mortal. Darcy Lewis. Her utter pain resonated through the link between them. It had come out of nowhere. One minute he was lounging on his bed, staring at the wall and half-heartedly contemplating escape, the next he was sprawled on the floor, his body wracked his unadulterated excruciation. He could feel everything.Granted, the distance and the magical barrier muted the intensity somewhat, but Loki was struggling to keep his pain threshold down. He managed to do so long enough to thrust a part of his consciousness into the connection to find why his Darcy was in such agony.

—

Everything hurt.

Everything fucking hurt.

Of course it hurts, Darcy's inner sass snapped, you got thrown off of Stark Tower. Although, you really only fell a couple of stories before Tony caught you. But did you have to hit so much shit on the way down?

Shut up, Darcy groaned internally. She really didn't need this. "At least I'm alive," she mumbled.

"Ms. Lewis?"

Darcy looked up. "Sorry, Doc. Kinda zoned out there for a moment. So when is the amputation scheduled?" She looked pointedly at her full leg cast that had colorful scribbles all over it. The doctor visibly blanched at her crude humor before clearing his throat. "Fortunately that won't be necessary, Ms. Lewis. You are, however, very lucky to be alive-", Darcy rolled her eyes before listening to Doctor Obvious continue, "- and you have several broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung." Ah, so that's why it was so hard to breathe.

"Ms. Lewis?" The doctor looked almost hesitant to continue. That's not a good sign. Darcy steeled herself. "That's me." "Were you aware that you were pregnant?" Everything stopped. 'Were'? Why did he say 'were'? That's past tense! Ohnoohnoohnoohnonononononono…..

"Yea. I know I'm pregnant. 17 weeks." Darcy was seriously not liking the look on the doctors face. Or where this conversation was going. "Why?"

The doctor gazed at her solemnly before sighing. "The blunt force trauma you sustained during your fall….. It caused additional internal bleeding around the womb….. I'm very sorry Ms. Lewis."

Darcy didn't respond. She couldn't. Her lip started quivering and she bit down on it to try and control it. She could feel her eyes welling with tears and she glanced away, her mind blank. Slowly she shifted her upper body -although it screamed in protest- and turned her head away from the door.

The baby was dead….

The baby was…..

—

…DEAD

Loki gasped as he called back his consciousness from the connection. His mind was reeling.

Darcy.

Stark Tower.

Falling.

Baby.

Dead.

He could not get past those last two. A baby? Darcy is with child? How had he not known? She had said 17 weeks. Loki's mind quickly calculated that fact…. That would put the conception time at around…..

His blood drained from his face. Darcy is with his child.

Was, his mind corrected. Was with child.

His child.

His child was dead.

His child was….

Loki slumped against the wall, his feet giving out from underneath him. The God of Mischeif gazed blankly at the floor, before an unearthly scream tore from his lips and reverberated throughout the cell, so loud that is seemed that all of Asgard could hear the Prince's agony. As the outcry died on his lips, the Trickster's mind continued to repeat one thing.

It was his fault.

It was his fault.

He couldn't protect her…