Chapter One
Getting out of bed in the morning has always been extremely difficult for Loki. It has nothing to do with the fact that he may still be tired, or being warm and safe under the covers, or that he's lazy (Loki is certainly not lazy), or even that he's scared to face the day.
No, Loki merely hates ending dreams.
It feels a little like finishing a book, except much worse. Because at least with a book you can put it back on the shelf and wait till the story has faded a little and you can enjoy it all over again. Even if the book isn't yours, though, the story stays with you.
Dreams don't. At least not for Loki. Dreams leave only lingering traces of something, something he can't quite remember, and it haunts him. A tail end of a plot, faces that don't quite match up, even the nightmares (he knows they're nightmares because with those he wakes up even more slowly, heart frozen and shaking) he wishes he could remember because he wants to know what he's so afraid of.
You can't fight an enemy you don't know exists, after all.
And so waking up is always a battle for Loki, a struggle to make his eyes stay open, to pull of the covers and put feet on the floor and to not sink back into that dream he was just having, because maybe, just maybe, if he falls back asleep quickly enough he'll fall back into his dream.
.
This morning, it's a little more difficult than usual.
.
Beeep. Beeeep. Beeeeep. Be-be-be-beep. Be-bee-beee-beeep.
Groaning, Loki rolls over and slams his alarm, but it doesn't stop.
Dammit, that's right, he'd disabled the snooze last night, in anticipation of this. Now he has to actually turn the damn thing off, which requires getting up.
Loki took a second to savor the regret of buying the bloody 'Sleep Proof Alarm! Waking up guaranteed!' alarm before forcing himself awake.
Tuesday, September 2nd.
The day after Labor Day.
First day of junior year.
High school, Loki thought venomously. God's curse of all of humankind.
Or at least all teenagers.
He grumbled to himself a little while longer as he got ready before glancing in the mirror.
His heart dropped, as it usually did these days.
Long, ink-black hair. (Not gold.)
Sharp emerald eyes. (Not cornflower blue.)
Ivory-pale skin. (Not a warm tan.)
Slender, lean limbs. (Not solid, sturdy muscles.)
Everything only served to remind him of the fact he'd never wanted to know.
I'm adopted.
Not Loki Asgard. Not who he'd always thought he'd been, son of Odin Asgard and Frigga Vanir-Asgard and brother of Thor Asgard.
No, now he was just Loki. Because he still didn't know what his real last name was, who his real family was, where he'd come from or why he'd been adopted.
His 'parents' wouldn't tell them, they hadn't even meant for him to know.
.
"You weren't ready, Loki," Odin had said firmly. "We would have told you when you were."
"You will always, always be my son, no matter what, Loki," Frigga had whispered, her face shaky and wrought with tears, just like Loki, except his was also painted with anger and hurt and confusion and even a little fear.
He held the paper in his hand, not tightly, but gently, as if it were made of some ethereal substance that would crumble away if he were to mishandle it.
"I'm not your son." His voice was a complete contrast to his expression, smooth and serene, making it all the more dangerous. "Never have been, have I? All along, it was a game of let's pretend, wasn't it?"
"No, Loki!" Frigga cried. "It doesn't matter, that you're not biologically mine, I am your mother and I will always-"
"IT DOES MATTER!" Loki screamed, making Frigga stumble back, and Odin close his eyes, disappointed. It was that familiar expression that made Loki's heart freeze over again and gave him the clarity to continue. "No wonder, then, you always favored Thor! That I was never good enough, never important enough, always second to the golden boy!" With his right fist, the one that was empty, he punched the wall with all his strength.
He ended up with bruised knuckles, and suddenly he felt the urge to laugh. When it came out, it was bitter and mocking.
(Thor's fist would have punched through the very wall, Thor would have-)
"Never mind," he whispered suddenly. "None of it. Don't mind it, you never have." He suddenly turned around, giving his parents – no, the people who'd lied to him his entire life – his back.
"I'm leaving," he'd said, "And I'm not coming back. Why should I bother? It isn't like I've ever been welcome here."
Something in him whispered that that was a lie, that Thor did care, at least, but he shoved it down with the knowledge that Thor had no idea that Loki wasn't really his little brother.
Loki ignored Frigga's pleadings and Odin's commands and left the house with nothing but a few dollars, a jacket, and the intention of never coming back.
.
He shook his head at his reflection, breaking the memory, and wet downstairs.
"Good morning, Loki!" Frigga said cheerfully, smiling sunnily at him. He nodded coolly as usual.
"Morning, mother," he answered easily.
"Excited for school?" she continued, the smell of bacon and scrambled eggs rising from the stove next to her.
"Of course." He grabbed two apples from the basket, slipping one into his bag and biting into the other one, already with one shoe on.
"Oh, are you leaving so early?" Frigga tried to smile again, but it was a little shaky. Just like it always was when she looked at him these days.
She's afraid I'll leave again, he knew. She's afraid I won't come back this time. And she's afraid she won't care.
Loki nodded. "See you later," he said calmly, and left.
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A/N:
DAMMIT THIS LOOKED SO MUCH LONGER ON WORD
This is just an experiment, so tell me what you think :) I really enjoyed writing Loki, more than I thought I would, so I might just keep going on this. I'm still writing Rocks, don't worry, but I wanted to try something new.
Plus, I love Loki.
Anyway, drop me a review with some feedback and prepare for everyone's favorite genius billionaire playboy philanthropist next chapter. (I hope.)
-Kouji
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers. Nope. No siree. I'm not actually Kevin Feige (who, btw, owns Marvel Studios) in disguise as a fangirl who writes fanfic in his/her spare time. That would be ridiculous.