15

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

By Raggedygal

Loki looked at the tower room he was about to vacate, noting with a pleased expression that it was as neat as a pin: the bed was made perfectly, there was no dust anywhere, and even the bookshelves were clean.

His latrine was spotless, and furnished with clean towels, a new bar of soap and toothbrush, as well as toothpaste.

He looked down at the magically expanded bag that he'd had one of the dwarves make for him and smirked. In that bag was every book of magic that he'd managed to collect in his long life, as well as a few odds and ends that he had picked up in France as a street hustler.

The missive that he had labored over for the past few weeks was ready to go straight to the bottom of the Allfather's inbox, and once it was signed and sealed, he was free.

Free of Asgard, free of the hatred, free of his former stepfather, and free of his enemies.

After the events with the God of Fear messing with the minds of mortal and immortal alike, the boy had come to realize that staying here in the Nine Realms was an exercise in futility.

In his former adult life, he'd been stubbornly determined to not be driven off like an unwanted stray dog, but now, with his whole life ahead of him, he realized that if he stayed, he'd become the same bitter, twisted prick he had been the first time around.

So, he had decided to cut all of his ties to Asgard except one. He wasn't about to cut himself loose from his big brother, Thor, who had gone against everyone in Asgard, and even his own judgment to bring Loki back from the dead. Although Loki probably could have managed that sooner or later, even without his brother's intervention.

Still, it was nice to have someone that loved him. Odin certainly didn't. Neither did his wife Frigga, or any of the royal court. There was too much bad blood and too many long memories for them to ever accept Loki back amongst them, even as a child.

He picked up the bag, slung it over his shoulder, and left the tower room forever. On his way out of the palace, he covertly placed the missive that renounced his place in the royal succession and as a citizen of Asgard at the bottom of the inbox in the Allfather's office.

Knowing Odin, he wouldn't get to it until a couple of days passed, and even then, the old man had the deplorable habit of not reading a lot of the stuff he signed. Once it was signed and had Odin's seal upon it, not even Odin could change the decree and bring him back.

Loki had done his homework when it came to fomenting this little plot. It had existed as the germ of an idea at the back of his brain for centuries, but he had never been unhappy enough to actually go through with it.

As he left the royal palace, his familiar, Ikol flew down and alit upon his right shoulder.

"Well, I did it, Ikol. I'm out of here. Thor is going to be royally pissed when he finds out that I've flown the coop, but I've caused him enough trouble already. He's better off without me in his life."

The magpie squawked, "He loves you, Master."

"I know that, and I love him. But I don't want him to keep fighting with the Allfather over me. It's not worth it. Without me there, they have nothing to fight about, so everything will be all right."

Ikol said nothing as his master continued to walk toward the rainbow bridge. He was against this plan, but honestly couldn't think of anything else for the boy to do.

Surrounded by people who quite literally hated him, and would happily kill him, the smart thing to do was leave and start over elsewhere.

"How will you get past Heimdall? He guards the bridge against those who do not have the Allfather's permission." The magpie asked.

"Something I picked up from reading Harry Potter fanfiction. It's called a Notice-Me-Not spell, and it can be used to disguise oneself from one's enemies. They literally don't notice that you're there."

"That's fanfiction; this is real life." Ikol retorted.

"Pfffft! I've been practicing. It's how I managed to get to the dwarves, so that they could make my backpack. It works perfectly fine, so stop worrying."

Loki worked the small enchantment, and very cautiously walked past Heimdall. To his great relief, the great golden eyes took no notice of the small godling as he walked over the bridge.

Once he was far enough away, both master and familiar heaved sighs of relief.

"All right Master Cleverclogs, now that we're on our way, where are we going? Back to France so you can hang out near the nude beaches and ogle all the mortal babes in their birthday suits?"

"Nope, that'd be the first place that Thor would look. I'm going someplace even better. Another dimension where there are no Avengers, X-men, or even Asgard except in comic books, legends and myths."

"WHAT? ARE YOU CRAZY?"

"Pretty much," the boy said, "Heimdall will use his accursed sight to find me if I go to the Midgard that everyone is used to. But, if I were to go to another Midgard, he can't find me."

The logic was indisputable, but the magpie knew that with his trouble-magnet, not to mention trouble-maker of a master, things would not be easy.

"How are you to take care of yourself? Some see only a child, and would treat you accordingly. You'd get pushed into one of those horrid prisons that they call foster homes faster than you could blink."

"That is certainly true, if they knew I was there. Fortunately, I have made my plans. There is a version of Midgard where there are Champions, but they are of a special type."

"They started in a place called Sunnydale, California, and it all began with a girl named Buffy Summers…."

The rainbow bridge finally came to an end in the area of the British Isles called Scotland, not too far from a certain castle, where the Queen of Slayers and her friends lived.

Loki had done his homework on this dimension; it was dangerous, filled with demons, vampires and the like, but the heroes here were more to his liking. He stepped off of the bridge, and sat down on a rock to catch his breath.

Although nearly immortal, and very sturdy, he was also considerably younger than he had been, and his stamina was nowhere near the levels he had possessed in his former adulthood.

Loki reached into a backpack and pulled out a large loaf of bread, some goat's milk cheese and good cooked ham, and a canteen of water. He fed Ikol some of the bread, cheese and ham first, and then fed himself.

As he ate, he waited. If his calculations had been correct, and Loki was no idiot, the Seers at the castle would have felt his coming, and informed either Buffy or Willow or one of the other residents of his arrival.

His mind wandered to his brother, who was busy with the clean up from the attack of the Worthy, Skadi, and the God of Fear. He was the one person that Loki would miss the most, and it hurt to think of the heartbreak that he was causing his brother by his leaving.

Tears came to his eyes as he realized that he probably would never see his brother again, even though he tried to force them back. Unfortunately, all of the loneliness and pain that he had been feeling over the past few months caught up to him, and he started to cry.

The poor child was so caught up in his grief, he never noticed the one eyed man walk up to him.

The older man was dressed in a military style sweater, dark cargo pants tucked into combat boots, and he was armed with an axe strapped to his back, several wooden stakes in his belt, and a wicked looking knife up his sleeve.

The last thing he expected was to see a small kid sitting on a rock, with a magpie on his shoulder, crying bitterly.

"Hey there," Xander Harris said gently, "What's the matter kid? Are you lost?"

"N-n-no, I'm not lost. I'm running away from home. They hate me there, so I left." Loki sobbed out, thoroughly miserable.

"Are you sure? What could you have done that's so bad, everyone would hate a kid like you? What's your name anyway?"

"Loki Laufeyson," was the answer, and Xander Harris froze.

Being a confessed comic book geek, and up to date on all of the big titles in question, Xander knew perfectly well about Loki's reputation in the comic book. However, just because the kid had the same name as the character, it didn't mean that it was him.

Plus, his Hyena was distressed by the scent that he was picking up from the kid. The boy was genuinely unhappy; more than likely afraid, and probably lost, no matter what he claimed.

"My name is Xander Harris, and I'd like to be your friend. Would you like that?"

A pair of red rimmed green eyes looked up at him, and Xander could see all of the pain that was in the child's soul.

'No kid should have that kind of pain, no matter who he is.' The former Zeppo thought, and focused on the boy again as he began to speak.

"Are you sure you want to be my friend? I've done bad things, and I don't want to do them anymore, but they seem to follow me anyway."

"I'm sure. Why don't you come to the castle with me? It isn't all that far, and we can give you something more to eat than bread, cheese and water."

The magpie spoke up then, "You will not harm us?"

Knowing a magical animal when he saw one, Xander replied, "I promise. I won't hurt either you or your master. Here, blow your nose." And he handed Loki a wad of Kleenex to do just that.

Loki blew his nose with a loud honk, and then picked up his backpack once again, slinging it on his back.

"Are you sure your friends won't mind?" he asked.

"I'm sure. We've all done bad things at one point or another in our lives. Besides, whatever it was that you did is in the past. As long as you don't hurt any of us, we'll be copa and scetic."

"Okay."