Now that I'm confined at my place, I had no choice but to finish writing this chapter!
Enjoy!
He wants to sleep.
He cannot sleep.
He needs to sleep.
He must not sleep.
Loki shakes his head a little to dissipate the dizziness. His thoughts are blurry. Even his body feels heavy, as if every single one of his limbs is stuck in some kind of glue.
He is exhausted. He wants to close his eyes. He wants to let go. He wants to lay down, not to think about anything and drift away, let himself be carried by nonsensical dreams, sleep.
But he cannot allow himself to do that. Because he is not safe. Most of all, because Morgan is not safe.
A part of him thinks the opposite. He surveys the room he is in; a large window through which he can see the pale light of the moon, a soft bed on which he is settled, and a door which has not been locked. No surveillance. No bars. No chains. Nothing he sees reminds him of a prison.
And yet...
And yet, another part of him keeps repeating that if he ever lets his guard down, if he ever allows himself to be defenceless, all this apparent safety will disappear in an instant, like a mirage. He cannot afford the luxury to sleep, even though every single fibre of his body longs for it.
Morgan moves a little, which draws his attention. He takes a long look at her. Curled in foetal position next to him, she is unconsciously clutching the sheets beneath her. Her slumber, however, is largely due by the drugs she has been given. For better or worse, she will not wake up for hours. The clothes she is wearing, some grey trousers that Midgardians strangely call sweatpants, and a far too large white shirt, make her look even smaller than she is.
The more he looks at her, the more he thinks that he could maybe, just maybe, lie down by her side, feeling her warm skin against his and listening to her calm and steady breath before joining her into a blissful lethargy...
The more he looks at her, the more he thinks about the wound she still has on her head, all the torments she had to undergo and all those she could go through if he allows himself one single second of carelessness...
Loki clenches his fists so hard that he can feel his nails sinking into his palms. All these contradictory thoughts are making it more difficult than ever to think correctly.
The Avengers did not make any move to imprison him again. But he is still in the Avengers compound, playing their game. Not something he wishes to continue.
Morgan pulls the sheet a little closer to her, frowning, then starts to mutter.
"Backwards... Told you... Backwards..."
He takes a closer look at her. She appears to be reliving the moment she repelled M, a newly created personality, back into the depths of the Scarlet Witch's mind.
How did she do it? How exactly did Morgan manage to counter the deranged psyche of Wanda Maximov, furthermore with such an astounding rapidity?
Loki is, by nature, curious. However, more than curiosity, it rather is the literal abhorrence of being considered ignorant that drives most of his actions. Needless to say, he hates being left in the dark regarding the complexity of Morgan's powers.
Nevertheless (and this is something he has only very recently and very reluctantly come to acknowledge) isn't she in the same position than his, when it comes to the mysteries of Asgardian magic, something she manages to understand but not exactly to discern?
Morgan still has her fair share of secrets; the same way Loki has his.
But still.
Still.
"Don't..." Morgan whispers again "Backwards... Don't..."
Loki winces. What should he do? Wake her up, so that she does not have to stand this nightmare any longer? Or letting her sleep, because after all, it is only...
He hardly refrains a sardonic laughter at what he was about to think. Because after all, it is only in her head...
Because after all, it is never ending.
A disagreeable shiver runs down his spine. Not again, he commands himself, not again. It already is unthinkable that he has let his guard down so many times, along the past few hours. He has to...
Loki sighs. He does not even know what he has to do. He has already made clear to Morgan, then to Thor, how powerless he feels. What is he missing? What is he not doing right? Because there is evidently something else he has to say, or to do, or just to think about, and, as always, he cannot put his finger on it.
He kind of wants to scream until his voice breaks.
Slight pressure around his wrist.
He did not even notice Morgan's gesture before feeling her hand against his skin. From the look on her face, she is still caught in this more than unpleasant dream, which Loki has now made up his mind about. Even if she goes back to sleep right away, at least she will most probably not be trapped in the exact same nightmare.
"Morgan." He murmurs, shaking her shoulder a little to wake her up.
It actually takes him long seconds to realize that something is off. However, before Morgan speaks a word, before she merely opens her eyes, he becomes aware of something that is here and should not normally be here.
Her eyes do open and the conclusion is crystal clear.
Her eyes are red.
"There you are, Loki."
These eyes are not Morgan's, and neither is this voice. Fear, unspeakable fear, takes hold of Loki's mind, blurring both his sight and his thoughts.
He knows these eyes and this voice all too well.
"Surprise." M smirks, straightening up in front of him.
Without further delay, the god of Mischief seizes her neck, firmly resolved to make that accursed crimson gaze disappear, and slams her on the bed.
"Where is she?" He articulates, almost choking out of rage.
"She's right where I want her to be." M chuckles, apparently not affected the slightest by Loki's move "And you, be careful with her body. You wouldn't like to see another scar on her pretty face, would you?"
The Witch's voice is marked by pure delectation, and her smile only widens when Loki realizes that he cannot harm her without harming Morgan.
Backwards, she said earlier on. Isn't he a fool, she was not dreaming, she was fighting, and he let this happen, because of course he cannot protect her, after all, he does not even manage to protect himself...
"What do you want, then?!" He spits "What deal do you hope to make?!"
M, beneath him, starts shaking. Not out of dread, however.
It is laughter. She is laughing, deforming Morgan's face with such an unnatural grin that the mere sight of it makes Loki nauseous. He cannot help thinking about how the Witch is using her body as a grotesque marionette, just like...
Just like him.
Just like he used the Sceptre, and just like the Sceptre used him.
Alright, he admits, he was indeed both the puppet master and the puppet itself, but this will not help facing the Witch.
Who is still laughing like crazy.
"A deal?!" She exclaims "You really think I came for a deal?!"
Her smile becomes even more menacing, her eyes even brighter.
"I don't come for deals." She hisses "I only come for revenge."
The last thing Loki can clearly remember is her hand approaching his forehead. Afterwards, it's...
A familiar scenery. Somewhere he travelled to long ago. A murky grey sky, a desert land, a cold wind in his hair.
"I wish I could trust you." Thor regretfully confesses.
Another place. The Palace halls, Asgard. Chains around his neck and wrists.
"Loki." Frigga whispers, her voice tainted by sorrow "Please, don't make this worse."
What is this? What is happen-
Change again. Memories surging one after the other, without any precise order nor logic.
"It will not be over soon." Thanos warns, all six Infinity Stones glowing on the Gauntlet.
"It's never ending." Stark sighs, outside his prison cell.
Memories. Nothing else but memories. He cannot be harmed.
Are you sure?
Whose voice is that?
The voice of reason, of course. The truth you always refuse to listen.
"No games, no tricks, no more empty words!" Thor orders "I need one thing, and one thing only! I need the truth!"
And the truth is...
"I lost." Loki whispers.
Indeed, you lost. You always lose, don't you understand?
"Your birth right was to die!" Odin shouts.
True, you should die. Wouldn't it be better for everyone?
Those memories swirl around his eyes, too fast for him to make sense of what is happening. The only constant thing is this nagging voice in his ears. It sounds like... It sounds like his own voice, but not quite. Very familiar, but different. Weird...
"You will always be the god of Mischief." Thor shrugs.
See? You cannot change.
Hey, that one is incomplete.
What?
Yes, his brother's sentence. He did not only say "You will always be the god of Mischief." He added something else.
"But you could be more." Thor continues.
That's the one. He is much more than what people think he is. And by the way, why is he even listening to them? Why is he listening to this voice, as a matter of fact?
You can't...
He can't what, exactly? Can't stop watching some disordered fragments of his own memories, all rearranged to tell a truth he is supposed to believe? What do Midgardians say, already? Oh, right. Fake news.
It's not...
It's not...? Please, continue. Nothing to add? Too bad. He is done with listening to all these voices. And he is more than done with mind control. His turn, now.
But...
A new landscape unveils before his eyes. The cabin of a spaceship and, outside, the depths of Space.
"Thank you." Thor smiles "If you were here, I might even give you a hug."
Loki catches the carafe cork in mid-air, smirking at his brother's incredulous and cheerful look.
"I'm here."
One last place. A small room, in the Avengers compound.
"No matter how much time it takes, I'm on your side." Morgan vows.
Stop that! These memories don't matter! Can't you see you're not what you think you are?!
On the contrary, he can see very clearly.
So, back to the start, shall we?
Loki grabs both the Witch's hands (Morgan's hand, he knows, but she probably won't hold a grudge for long if, rather, when she will come back to her body) and immobilizes her in front of him, with her back against the wall.
It takes M long seconds of fierce resistance to understand that any attempt at physical combat is more than pointless. Then, she looks daggers at Loki.
His head is spinning a little, his vision is blurry, is ears are ringing, in short, his senses are overall a mess, yet what by far prevails at the moment is utmost satisfaction. He flashes a provocative grin at the Witch, who winces out of fury.
"How...?!" She exclaims "You... How did you..."
"How did I repel your little mind games?" Loki presumes "You can only blame yourself for that, Witch. You showed me what you are capable of, earlier on. Pity that I'm a fast learner."
Tightening his grip around her wrists, he brings his face closer to hers.
"Now..." He slowly begins, enjoying with every fibre of his being the sight of this increasingly uncertain red gaze "How about you get out?"
Nevertheless, as if she was not insane enough already, M distorts Morgan's face into a maniacal grin.
"Get out?" She taunts "Get out of your precious little human? You really want her back?"
"Don't make me repeat myself." Loki growls.
He starts to understand what the expression "to see red" really means. Literally and figuratively. The only thing he is able to perceive clearly is the Witch's shining red gaze. The only thing he desires is to erase it, permanently.
"You've never seen her for who she is, have you?" M susurrates "You've never seen her true face. I saw it. You think I'm a monster? But what she can do... I can't even imagine."
Loki clenches his free hand. He can almost feel the air vibrating around him.
Time to stop listening. And change the game a little.
"Very well." He affirms "You asked for it."
True, the gesture helps him focus his magic a little. A conductor, if you wish. But he mostly does it to destabilize the Witch even more.
Loki puts his hand on her forehead and off you go.
The god of Mischief's magic is not something he acquired out of the blue. It is a force he has always possessed, and has learned to control. Everyone in the Nine Realms is born with it, to different extends, of course. Even Midgardians, though their body is totally unable to withstand a flow of energy as any Asgardian's is.
But this Midgardian is beyond comprehension. Venturing into M's mind probably is one of the hardest things Loki has ever attempted.
She is so strong. As soon as he enters her mind, he realizes that this is nothing like he has ever experienced before.
Any Asgardian would literally not stand a chance against her.
It is bright, and loud, and painful, so painful. He has to navigate between so many visions, sounds, sensations. He has to burst through so many walls M is tirelessly building against him, so many incentives to stop him.
He falls. He chokes. He cannot see and sees too much. He cannot hear and hears too much. All this contradictory information prevents him from stabilizing his magic. Everything within him and around him screams getoutgetoutgetout, and oh yes, it would be easy and sweet to get out, why is he even here, why did he even come in the first place, wait, isn't he looking for someone?
Starts with an M. Is not M.
He has forgotten, he has forgotten, why is he here, he must be here for a reason but what is it, he must get out, he must get out!
Wait. He can feel something familiar, among this mess assailing him. Something very tiny, almost imperceptible. But what is it?
Let's start with the basics, then.
Golden eyes. He remembers golden eyes. Good start. Anything else?
A smile and a voice. A body against his.
He can see a little more clearly now. Details, now. He needs to be more specific.
Talking to snakes. Reading books. And, for some reason, wearing a knuckle-duster?!
Morgan.
"Morgan!" He calls.
All of a sudden, everything stops. No more disorienting noises and images. Just the silence. And the house.
He is standing right in front of a small house, with stone walls and a tile roof. Quite dull, to put it mildly.
Loki looks around. There is nothing else. The house is located in the exact middle of nowhere, surrounded by some kind of reddish fog, which he has absolutely no desire to approach. He opens the door, uncertain of what he is about to find.
The inside proves to be as uninteresting as the outside. The entrance walls are all white, with no decoration whatsoever. Next, a kitchen. Empty as well. Having to watch this menacing red smog through the windows is not the most reassuring perspective.
The next door leads to a dining room. And, with her back turned to him, sitting at the table...
"Morgan?" He speaks again, not daring to feel too relieved, as this could very well be another trap set up by the Witch.
She slowly turns around, arms crossed. Her gaze is cold. She seems distant, unphased, in short, definitely not surprised, almost annoyed, to see him.
"Oh, you're here too." She sighs "Great."
Her sarcastic tone is not really what Loki expected, and definitely not what he wants to hear at the moment.
"Yes, I'm here, and don't look too happy about it." He cannot help retorting.
Morgan shrugs and turns her back to him again, in a gesture that downright infuriates him.
"Look, aside from the fact that I've just gotten out of a psychic tornado, I'm starting to run out of patience." He warns "So, I suggest we don't dawdle any longer."
"Wow. So much for the knight in shiny armour." Morgan spits "You're sure you didn't fall on the wrong damsel in distress?"
"I'm starting to wonder." Loki winces.
What a pain in the neck.
Alright, it definitely is the real Morgan.
Before he or she has the time to add anything, the door of the kitchen opens again, on someone Loki has never seen before.
She is a little taller than Morgan, but not much, and of probably the same age. Her oval face is surrounded by long wavy blond hair.
"Hi!" She greets, all smiles, her blue eyes shining with surprise and enjoyment "Nice to finally meet you!"
"Uh..." Is, to Loki's dismay, the only answer he finds himself able to pronounce.
The woman leans with her back against the wall and warms her hand around the steaming cup she is holding.
"Wait, you didn't tell your boyfriend about me?" She asks Morgan, on a visibly upset tone.
What in the Nine Realms is going on?!
"No, because just like you, he isn't real." Morgan suddenly replies, no looking at either the woman or Loki.
Oh. Great.
So, to Morgan, he is a part of her... nightmare, or whatever all of that is.
"Hey, you wanna see something cool?" The blond-haired woman winks at him, before walking to another door, at the other end of the dining room.
"Don't." Morgan immediately reacts.
This time, she is on the verge of panic, Loki can tell. No more disdainful nor sarcastic attitude. She has briskly straightened up, and is looking at him with a both anxious and hopeful face.
"Don't open this door." She reiterates "He's in there."
"I know, and he'll be thrilled to see you!" The woman smiles back, with her hand already on the handle.
Without saying a word, Loki strides towards her and slams his hand against the wooden door, to prevent her from opening it.
"She said no. Are you deaf?" He snarls.
"Nah, I'm just dead." The blond-haired one smirks "Right, Morgan?"
"Stop that." Loki hears her whispers, before she wraps her arms around himself, as if she was suddenly cold.
"I mean, you can't deny you did the job well with me! With Mom, that was a mess! And Dad, that's another level!" The other woman continues, visibly enjoying herself, and pointing at the door Loki still holds closed.
At least, he starts to understand what is going on.
"By the way, I didn't introduce myself, how rude of me." She adds "I'm Vivian, nice to meet you."
"Morgan." Loki calls, deliberately ignoring the illusion's feigned sympathy "All of this is the effect of the Scarlet Witch's powers. These visions are fuelled by your own memories."
She turns her eyes to him again, visibly unsure whether or not to trust him.
"Then, there's a lot more to see!" Vivian replies "Her sister, her mother and her father, that was just the first round, you know!"
"I don't care." He shrugs, walking towards Morgan and not even bothering to look at the illusion next to him.
"Don't come close to me." Morgan reacts, standing up and taking a few steps backwards when he approaches her.
"You think that I am not real?" He questions.
She does not answer, only stares at him. Knowing Morgan, she might be thinking at full speed when the trap is going to occur. In other words, when he is going to harm her.
This has gone on long enough.
All of a sudden, the god of Mischief seizes one of the wooden chairs arranged around the table and swings it right at one of the windows, which is smashed to pieces. Next, he kicks the wall open, literally.
This is so satisfying, for many reasons. It doesn't look like it, but there's a while he hasn't enjoyed some good old destruction, and he was starting to think he had lost his touch. Also, it feels like a well-earned revenge taken against pretty much everyone who has annoyed him (and the Norns know there are many) along the last couple of days. If he closes his eyes, he can even pretend that this is the Avengers compound. Yes, this is just perfect.
Loki knocks the glass table over and the sound it makes when it shatters on the floor appears to be another convincing argument for his presence to Morgan. She carefully walks towards him, shards of glass cracking under her shoes with each step she takes.
"Loki..." She mutters "Are you real?"
Do not, ever, say yes or no. Do the unexpected.
The god of Mischief sticks his tongue out, but he turns it into a very thin, black, bifid tongue.
"I guessssss I am." He hisses.
On Morgan's face immediately appear a mess of conflicting emotions, from the urge to burst out laughing to the one to burst out crying. Nothing he isn't familiar with, right?
She is in front of him now, in the middle of the half-destroyed dining room. Her sister Vivian, or at least the nightmarish illusion of what her sister Vivian could have been, is gone.
"I... I'm sorry, I... I was..." She frantically stammers.
"The last thing you need is to be sorry." Loki smiles.
Yet, in a move that takes him completely off-guard, Morgan throws herself into his arms. He hesitantly wraps himself around her and can feel that she is shivering.
"I should have... I should have resisted..." She whispers, her head against his chest, and her voice marked by shame.
"Good news, it's never too late to resist." He grins.
She raises her gaze towards him.
"How? How can we resist... this place?" Morgan questions.
Loki turns his gaze to the red fog surrounding the house, which is much easier to see now that he has carved a whole in the wall.
"I remember someone advising me, when trapped in a place I thought I could not resist, to play a little with the rules." He grins, before extending his hand towards her "Wanna try?"
And then, by the Nine Realms, her smile finally comes back.
"Game on." She approves, seizing his hand.
This might be the weirdest and yet most fantastic moment they share. Fair enough, there is nothing sweeter than to destroy a house standing in the middle of a psychic Hel.
He has to admit, Morgan really puts her heart and soul into it. She has grabbed a chair leg and is methodically smashing every window she sets her eyes on. Outside, the red smog seems to grow agitated, as if it was protesting against their sudden rebellion. Loki decides that it's a good sign.
Once Loki has pierced most of the walls, he wonders how he can make this house crumble, for good. Turns out Morgan has also had a similar idea.
"Do every Midgardian have all this in their houses?" He inquires, at the sight of the number of bottles now surrounding her on the kitchen floor (and Morgan is still taking more out of the cupboards).
"More or less." She acknowledges "Plus, I can imagine as many as I want, can't I?"
"Quite true." Loki nods, as he helps her pouring the liquids all over the house.
On the containers, he can read names such as acetone and wood polish wax, plus a staggering diversity of alcohol.
"Did you really use to live in this house?" He inquires, as he empties the last bottles around the entrance door.
Morgan is already waiting for him outside. She only cracks the match when he comes to stand next to her.
"I did. And, to be completely honest, I don't regret setting it on fire." She sighs.
The aforesaid fire is one of a kind. Whatever is left of the place is rapidly engulfed by the flames, and even though all of this cannot harm their physical bodies, though there is no way to be absolutely sure of that, Loki and Morgan take a few steps backwards, due to the heat they can feel.
"Loki?" Morgan whispers, still staring at her house being burned down "Thank you."
"For encouraging your pyromaniac tendencies?" He cannot help teasing.
"Partly." She laughs "No, I mean... Thank you, for... Not leaving."
He slowly breathes out. To know that he can be needed, even more, wanted, what a new and pleasant feeling. And yet, it pains him to hear how used Morgan was not to be wanted either. All her fears, which she might have partially overcome, violently surged back due to M's manipulations.
Oh right, he almost forgot.
"Talking about leaving, I think it would be a good idea not to take out time here, as interesting as the show may be."
To illustrate his statement, the roof of Morgan's house stumbles in a loud craaaaaack, doubling the intensity of the fire.
"Alright." Morgan breathes out, before turning around to face the red smoke "Any plan in mind?"
Loki says nothing, just shrugs, a wide smile on his face.
"The best way to go." Morgan approves.
The two of them simultaneously extend their hand towards the crimson cloud. The reaction is, as they expected, brutal.
An actual storm begins. The fog swirls around them, and here and there, Loki distinguishes bright red lightning. He can barely see Morgan next to him, and has to extend an arm in front of his eyes in order not to be blinded by the light.
"Are you sure that was a good idea?!" He yells, to be sure she can hear him.
"If you had a better one, why didn't you suggest it sooner?!" She shouts back, her arms also protecting her face.
"I never said I had a better one!"
He wonders if Morgan is actually laughing and hopes that it is the case. However, in front of them, emerges a silhouette he has come to know way too much.
Morgan, Loki and the Scarlet Witch appear to stand in the eye of the storm. So, what kind of epic showdown will it be?
"I won't let you go!" M roars, her eyes bright red "I won't let Wanda at the mercy of monsters like you!"
Red lightning start to crackle around her open hands. Bad. Very bad.
How can he even fight, Loki wonders, what can he do against such power?
"So, you would let her become a monster?!" Morgan replies "Is that what you want?!"
Suddenly, the storm seems to calm down a little. The lightning becomes less frequent, the wind less violent, and the red light stops shimmering around M's hand.
"You want to kill us because we have harmed Wanda, right?" Morgan continues, comforted by this unexpected lull "But you harmed us just the same! It's not protecting her against monsters, it's turning her into one!"
As Morgan speaks, Loki can see someone else emerging from the red fog, right behind M. It is a taller figure, and it does not look like a normal Midgardian by any mean.
A bald man, with red skin, and on his forehead shines... The Mind Stone?!
"Wanda..." He speaks softly "If you do this... They will never stop being afraid of you."
"Vision?" Loki hears M say, choking out of surprise.
And, again, the settings change. Gone is the red storm, now the three of them are standing in the middle of a forest. The Wakandan forest, Loki remembers. The last place where the Avengers have tried, and failed, to make a last stand before Thanos gathered all the Infinity Stones.
The Witch has her back turned to them now. She is staring at the ground, unmoving. When Loki and Morgan lower their gaze, they can see the same person who has appeared behind the Witch, earlier on. However, his skin is not red anymore, just a murky grey. His eyes are lifeless, and his skull is completely destroyed, revealing a heap of disorganized wires.
"Do you think I'm a monster?" The Witch bluntly asks, without looking at them.
By the tone of her voice, Loki is almost sure that it is not M anymore, but Wanda Maximov.
"Depends." He decides to say "Do you think you are a monster?"
She turns towards them, and her gaze, not bright red anymore, is telling.
"No one is a monster unless they decide to be one." Morgan explains "Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. So does he."
She has finished her sentence by pointing at Loki, who gives her a heavy look.
"What? You would have said the same." She innocently points out.
"True." He cannot help admitting.
"Can I give you just one tip?" Morgan asks Maximov again.
The latter says nothing and looks at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
"All these things about being a lone wanderer trying to deal with your pain on your own... That doesn't work. At all." Morgan sighs "Frankly, I don't know why there's so much hype around it."
"What do you know of my pain?" Maximov defies.
"Not much. Except that it hurts. A lot."
Maximov closes her eyes and breathes out, visibly trying not to shed a tear. Then, she looks at them again, with a half-smile growing on her face.
"Yes." She whispers "It does."
Without prior warning, Loki finds himself falling into what seems like an empty space of red light. The Scarlet Witch is nowhere to be seen anymore. Next to him, Morgan is screaming out of dread. At least, he is not the only one.
"Is that good news or bad news?!" She yells.
"Not a clue!" He manages to articulate.
But when they finally touch the ground, it is only the floor of their bedroom. It is still pitch-black night outside. The Avengers compound is still silent.
And, fortunately, when the two of them stand up, wincing and panting, Loki can see that it is still Morgan who is next to him.
