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CHAPTER ONE - A BROKEN GOD

"A broken god at my door, a broken god begging for no more, a broken god asking if I have a shot gun, a broken god crying when I say I won't give him one..."

So my story with Loki starts the evening he appeared in the field beside my house and collapsed to the ground. Watching him from grooming a shiny black gelding's back from a saddle, I quickly grasped a chunk of Midnight's mane and pulled myself over and rode bareback to him.

Loki's long black hair covered his face and I didn't recognize him till I flopped him on his back. His hair fell from his eyes and realizing it was him took my breath away for a moment - took my breath away in terror and shock, as last we heard, he was in fact dead.

Hesitately, I placed two fingers to his neck and I felt a light thump of a pulse. Biting my lip, thoughts flew through my head. Something was wrong with him. He was a god and this one wasn't the god of thunder or Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, or the Allfather, the ones we've heard (rather) good things about. It was Loki, the god of mischief. The one who tried to take over Earth and force us into submission, killing so many people.

But he just didn't seem the same, right here right now. We all know Loki's story at this point. Always in the shadow of Thor, always teased, never truly trusted. That could do a thing to a person. A nearly motherly instinct took me over. What if I could fix him? I didn't know how I would, but what if I could... what if I didn't treat him as he deserved to be treated, like so many people do to me? Albeit they didn't know my secrets and I know his... but that just cracked my heart even more.

I think he deserved another chance. I mean, he did aid Thor in saving the world with the Dark Elves... in which he supposedly lost his life. How did he survive? In Asgard's eyes, he was cleared of all charges as he helped save the Nine Realms. Though he had been dead at the time of that declaration... I pressed my fingers to my head, feeling a headache coming on.

What was I going to do anyways? Leave him here or run screaming into town? He was alive, at any given second he could kill me anyways if he saw it fit, and I did, truly want to help him.

Call me a silly girl, but staring at his smooth, currently calm face, I knew I wasn't going to give up on him. Everybody needed someone to believe in them, or if you didn't, life was not a thing worth living.

Making my decision, I grabbed his arms and pulled him up to a standing position. His legs buckled and we almost went down together, but somehow I got a good enough grip to support him. I had him flop on Midnight for a moment, causing the dark horse to sidestep, but I turned around to steady both Loki and him in time.

After a couple of minutes, and running back and forth between each side, pushing and pulling Loki on the horses back, I was leading them to my front stop.

Getting Loki off was easier for the fact he was slowly regaining conscious. When I pulled him down off Midnight, he held on my shoulders, and stood wobbly.

He looked me in the eyes and murmered, "Please."

My face scrunched up in confusion. "Please what?"

"Kill me..." Loki just barely whispered, before collapsing again. On his knees, he said softly, "I don't deserve to live."

I paused a second, taking a breath, before kneeling too. "I can help you," I replied in a hushed tone.

But he shook his head. "I'm beyond help. I've done too much."

"For all the right-wrong reasons," I told him.

"What?"

"The way you were treated, the way you grew up... no wonder why you were so screwed up. Let me show you another way-" I attempted to say, but Loki spoke over me.

"I need to be responsible for my actions-" He started, but I interupted him.

"Then be responsible! Change! Don't do it again! Killing yourself will be not wanting to own up to what you did. It'll be trying to get out of the punishment." I said firmly, making him look me in the eye, but he broke away immediately.

"B-but the things I've done! I-I've seen! I c-can't... I can't live. It haunts me.. it's all I see, the blood, the bodies, the screaming..." Loki choked and tears fell down his face.

I pursed my lips together. This was not the god I've read about, at all.

"You won't feel better after you die. Do you think you forget when you're dead? I don't think so. I think it will always haunt you. But you get the change to redeem yourself. Don't you want that? Don't you want to make your wrongs right, Loki? Don't you?" I replied in a low voice, my voice cracking at the last two words. Because I know I do. I nearly looked away as I thought, and maybe, if he can be redeemed, maybe there's hope for me too...

Loki took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. I placed a hand on his cheek.

"Let me help you. I... still have hope for you." I smiled gently, and he leaned into my hand.

"You don't mean it... you don't know who I am, you don't know what I've done." Loki exclaimed miserably.

"Well, actually, I studied Norse mythology for a while and the story of Thor coming to Mexico has gone around and we all know what you tried to do before the Avengers stopped you a couple months ago..." I trailed off, realizing what I was saying wasn't a good thing, before quickly adding, "But let's not forget your part in bringing down the Dark Elves."

Loki just stared at me. "Truly how do you know so much?"

I shrugged, but the faces of my parents flashed before my eyes, and I looked away. My hands fiddled with the buttons of my sleeve now.

"You can just try living here, as a human..." I suggested, looking back at him.

His lip curled slightly, but he didn't voice what came across his mind, and as quickly as the lip-curling came, it was gone.

"Then just... live here. As you." I said simply, then blurted out, "But not like people-killing you, please."

Loki closed his eyes. "I don't even know who I am anymore," He admitted with a broken voice. "I just know I hate myself. Please," he started to beg me again with huge eyes, "Put me out of my misery."

I shook my head, making up my mind. "No. No more deaths," Pain ripped my heart for a second. "I can save you. I will this time. I won't let you die like I did them."

His eyes were a world of hurt and my words, my omission of what I did, were lost on him. Loki's face fell to his hands. "You're right," he said through his fingers, "You're right." His voice was barely a whisper.

I wish I wasn't.

I wish I wasn't so selfish.


In my humble little farmhouse, I handed him a hot cup of a coffee and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. Loki sat crosslegged, staring glossy eyed into my lighted fireplace. I curled up on the couch and watched him silently.

There were no words that needed to be said.

However, not much time past before I was startled by a sudden cry. Breaking from the insides of my mind, I refocused on Loki. His cup rolled beside him and his arms were outstretched. I got up and walked around him. Coffee dripped off his pants, making a small puddle on my wood floors.

"Are you okay?" I asked, pulling Loki up. He felt rigid against me and I dragged him over to the couch. "Loki?" His eyes stared unblinkingly ahead, wide eyed and frozen. I took a step back, at a lost as to what to do.

"Hey," I said softly, climbing beside him. I pulled his stiff body to myself, his head on my chest. "Loki, hear my voice. I need you. I need you back here." I stroked his hair, but he stayed just as taunt. My fingers brushed his cheek and he was ice cold.

I didn't know what to do. What a good job I was doing of saving him. I was going to get nowhere with this. I was doomed.

I closed my eyes and held him tight.

It was no more than fifteen minutes before Loki's body melted against mind. He breathed heavy, shuddering breaths, and I kept my hold on him.

He didn't do anything but lay there, and I didn't let go. A growing feeling of awkwardness was weaving its way through my body. What was I suppose to do? All I've done as of late was drive human company away, not comfort them.

Loki's voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "It's a game now." He straightened up and caught my eyes. "It's a game I can't win." His voice was helpless and just stating a fact.

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly, like if I spoke any louder he'd just shatter.

"He took something from me. Something I acted like I didn't have before. He laughed as they pulled it from me." He sounded hollow.

Loki made me scared to ask what it was, but I did anyway. "What did they take?" I barely breathed.

"My soul."

What he said didn't truly register to me.

"And who took it?"

In a dead voice Loki said, "Thor."


There was no explanation of Loki's statement about Thor. The god of lies went quiet and spoke no more that night. I placed a blanket over him and left him on the couch. In my room, I got lost in my own thoughts and memories.

Long after the night took over the day, but close to when the light would reclaim what was rightfully his, I broke out my guitar, trying to make sense of my day.

"A broken god at my door, a broken god begging for no more, a broken god asking if I have a shot gun, a broken god crying when I say I won't give him one," I sing these words softly as I pluck around on my guitar. A cold feeling swirled in my stomach as I realized for the first in a long time my lyrics aren't about the pain and guilt that has haunted me since my family died.

So many feelings fought inside me. Would it count if I was halfway doing this for myself? That this broken god gave me hope? Was I an awful person because doing this, made the guilt burning me away simmer down? Why did I even think I could change him, as broken as I am? And despite all these thoughts about saving myself, I did actually want to help him. Even all the things he's done, if he feels even a little bit what I feel... I'd want to stop that pain from being in anyone.

All these truths created a war in me.

But I was going to do it anyway. I was going to follow through and help Loki even if it killed me. It was something to do. Something to live for.

What else did I have? Was I going to spend the rest of my life feeding my horses and walking into town once a week to let everyone know I was alive?

I had to fight what I did to my family. I had to fight what lies in me. My deep dark secret. Or maybe one day it will become me.