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He does not exactly know what wakes him up, if it is the sunlight on his face, or the noise of the water running in the background. Or maybe it is this tempting smell, reminding him that his last meal is pretty far away.
In any case, when Loki resolves to open his eyes, he realizes that not only has he closed them a while ago, which means that he has slept, and by Hell, that is already a miracle in itself, but also that Morgan is nowhere to be seen.
He stares at the ceiling for some time, trying to get his thoughts in order. Needless to say, the latter task is far from being easy. The last thing he clearly remembers is the two of them having just gotten out of the Scarlet Witch's mind. It is odds on that such a strain on their own minds has made them fall asleep right away, regardless of what danger may still have been lurking in the background. However, given the intensity of the light that illuminates the bedroom, indicating that they must have been resting for hours, it is also a safe bet to assume that they face no immediate threat.
Loki takes a long inspiration. What can he be sure about? Not much. Is the Witch still an enemy? Maybe, maybe not. Are the Avengers still their allies? Maybe, maybe not. Are Morgan and him still seen as a hazard? May- you got the idea.
The soft sound of Morgan's footsteps pulls him out of his reflection (at least, what could optimistically be called a reflection) and he straightens on his elbows. He immediately notices that not only has she changed the bandage covering the wound on her skull, but has also cut her hair. Or is currently in the process of doing so. Her curls are still longer on one side of her face. She has her back turned to him, thus Loki can perfectly see that the only things she is wearing are her undergarments and that her skin is still wet on her back and neck, indicating that she has just gotten out of the shower. His gaze follows her across the room, a wide smile growing on his lips, as she has visibly not realized that his eyes have been open for a while.
"Not really found of these." He comments, after she has grabbed a pair of, what is the exact Midgardian denomination already, oh right, jeans.
Not as if she has a lot to choose from, though. Just like many temporary inhabitants of this compound, they have been provided with outfits that, unfortunately, do not all strictly correspond to their size, and especially not to their clothing fashion. Pity.
"Did I wake you up?" She questions, neglectingly dropping the trousers on the floor.
"I managed to do that on my own."
Morgan smiles back at him and, without further ado, swiftly jumps on the bed, preventing him from straightening up. Not that he really complains.
Loki carefully raises a hand to her head, where her wound is.
"How do you feel?" He inquires.
"Much better. Actually, I feel great!" She beams "I was looking forward to enjoying a few hours of sleep without any more bruises nor cuffs."
"Seems like a luxury, these days." Loki snarls.
"Tell me about it..." She huffs, before her eyes light up again "By the way, talking about luxury..."
Morgan leans towards him and captures his lips. The god of Mischief enjoys the contact of her skin against his, almost overwhelmed by her vitality. Then, he cannot help noticing how Morgan's kisses become more passionate, as she is leaning further on his chest.
"One is a morning person." He grins.
"I'm an all-day person." Morgan chuckles "What about you?"
To illustrate her statement, she slides her hand under the sheets, towards his crotch. Loki closes his eyes, trying to focus on the sensation of her warm hand, and nothing else, rather than...
Rather than everything else.
He bites his lip, wondering why exactly he cannot feel at ease, why he cannot simply... Just let go, for a moment.
He cannot. Everything, all these nightmares and apprehension and anxiety, is still so close, he cannot let go.
He hesitantly seizes Morgan's wrist to stop her gesture and opens his eyes again, though not staring at her directly.
"Sorry..." Loki whispers "I..."
I what?! He doesn't even know what to add. How, just how, does he so quickly and so perfectly manage to ridicule himself?
Morgan immediately straightens up.
"Alright." She nods "Later, then?"
She does not appear offended the slightest, which leaves Loki quite surprised. On Asgard, not being eager to please a woman, no matter when, nor where, nor which woman, was, and still is, considered as the embodiment of unmanliness.
Sure, he knows and trusts Morgan well enough by now to tell her when he wants and does not want her, but still, he cannot help being surprised by how little she cares about such conventions.
"And I am sorry..." She adds "Jumping on you without prior warning, that wasn't very... sportsman-like."
There is one thing Loki cannot deny, Morgan's directness is one of a kind.
His refusal truly does not seem to bother her. She does not interpret it as a sign of disdain nor of frailty. She does not interpret it at all, period.
His uneasiness rapidly fades away. And, because Loki is Loki and because Morgan is Morgan, he simply cannot resist teasing her a little, by bringing his mouth closer to her ear.
"Trust me, I will repay my debt in time." He promises, a mischievous smile on his lips, before adding the final blow "On my knees."
The god of Mischief mentally congratulates himself at the sight of Morgan's face, torn between frustration and anticipation. And, obviously, her answer does not disappoint either.
"Then, do you need the bathroom right now? Because I have an urgent matter to take in hand."
"Poetic." Loki mocks.
"Look who's talking."
She jumps off the bed and, for lack of anything better, picks up the pair of jeans she was examining earlier on, then enters the bathroom again. Loki decides to imitate her, putting on some black trousers and another white shirt. As he rummages in the wardrobe, his eyes fall once again on one of the garments which has been provided to him and undeniably is out of place compared of the other articles of clothing, a T-shirt of Midgardian fabric, obviously, on which the expression Rock of Ages is written, in a more than questionable calligraphy. He strongly suspects it to be one of Stark's umpteenth allusions, but he is uncapable of remembering where it comes from.
Morgan's muffled exclamation of annoyance makes him turn his head towards the bathroom, which door has been left open. From where he stands, he can see her leaning against the sink, in order to get her head as close as possible to the mirror, to get a better look at the curls she is finishing to cut.
"Do you need a hand, on second thoughts?" He taunts, advancing towards her.
She does not immediately answer, focused as she is on her gestures, which appear to be considerably slowed down by the gauze covering half of her skull.
"I might..." She sighs "Usually, I'm good at playing hairstylist with myself, but here, that does not make things easy..."
Loki touches that -the bandage- with precaution, now standing behind her.
"If you feel better, I could help you get rid of it, permanently."
"Well, this offer..." Morgan begins, putting down the scissors she was using and turning around to face him "... is too good to pass up."
The god of Mischief, all the more comforted by her eagerness, places his right hand on her forehead.
"Wait, wait!" Morgan suddenly exclaims "Is that the thing you do when you make me less able to feel pain? Some kind of local anaesthetic?"
"You could put it that way." Loki admits.
"Can you heal my wound without it?"
"Of course." He assures "But it will probably be very unpleasant for you..."
Morgan frowns, visibly undecided, and Loki slowly withdraws his hand from her head.
"As you can see... I've had my fair share of bruises, both outside and inside my head... And elsewhere." She explains, lowering her eyes to her chest, where a large, impressively colourful mark is flourishing, consequence of the rubber bullet she has been shot with "And I just... I know it's stupid, but I just want a break from all those things that blur my mind and my senses, human drugs and alien spells all the same, even if they're supposed to dull the pain. I want to be... in control, even though I'm not."
Loki nods, absent-mindedly. How well he understands...
"I can't help being amazed at your resistance." She continues "Look at your face! It seems so natural to you, but I could never even dream of seeing a black eye completely disappear overnight!"
Oh, right. He has...
"I bet you even have forgotten about that." Morgan giggles "You're able to go through things that would leave me dead, or half-dead in the best-case scenario, without a scratch. I may be as selfish as I am foolish, but no matter how painful it is, I just want to feel... less weak, at least once."
Loki does not know what to say. Is he actually supposed to say something?
He cannot help being amazed at how exactly Morgan mirrors his own resentment towards her. He feels so powerless when compared to her mental strength, her adaptability, her resilience.
Because she speaks, Loki thinks, and this realization strikes him like lightning.
Sure, both of them can be smooth-talkers of a yet unmatched level, but Morgan has this additional intensity that baffles him.
She knows how to speak. More than that, she is not afraid to speak, at all. She openly admits that she is in pain, that she feels helpless, therefore that she needs help. Morgan speaks when Loki remains silent and, as a result, lets his anger build up inside him until it reaches imminent explosion.
"You are far from being weak." He tonelessly laughs "The same way I am... far from being resistant."
The longing comes to tell her, because he wants to be in control indeed, and yet it is so difficult. The contradictory impulses urging him both to tell her and to be quiet are burning his throat and numbing his thoughts.
Loki feels the exact same way than in front of Thor the night before. He wants to speak and he cannot speak.
He wants to speak. No, more than that. It has become a physical need, something he has to do in order to survive.
"I could not resist..." He begins "... During the battle... Against Thanos, I..."
He must not speak. What is he doing?! What is he thinking?! Morgan, what will she think?! How will she look at him?! With fear? Contempt?
She is not saying anything, just nervously looking at him struggling to get the words out of his mouth.
What will she say? What will she do? He must not tell her!
And yet, isn't she on his side? Doesn't she trust him? Doesn't he trust her? If she can speak, why can't he?
"I was..." He painstakingly pursues "He used the power of the Reality Stone to..."
He cannot. He cannot say it. An absurd thought comes to him, wiping out Morgan's memory of the last five minutes, so that she can never know, never have a clue, never remember him like this.
Could he do that to her? Would it not be the supreme symbol of disrespect, after she has just revealed how helpless she feels due to the number of assaults her mind has already undergone?
But the fact is, he cannot speak. Why, how, is he uncapable of doing something as simple as...
"Loki..." Morgan's voice interrupts him "What happened to you?"
Can't he speak? Can't he, for once...
The sentence abruptly comes back to his mind. It is something they have always repeated, since they first met. Something they kept saying and kept proving.
Words are power.
What he can, and will always, control, are his own words. If he speaks, he is powerful.
"Thanos used the Reality Stone to scar me." He finally manages to let out "Permanently."
As he says so, he shows. Loki lifts his hand to his mouth to dissipate the illusion he has been maintaining for days and nights, and reveals the nine small marks around his lips, which he can very well discern in the mirror in front of him.
His reflection screams at him how disfigured he looks, how powerless he feels, how humiliating the mere memory of suddenly finding himself with his lips sewn shut is.
Morgan immediately gasps, her eyes tainted by horror, and blocks her mouth with one hand, the other clenching the bathroom sink in order to stabilize herself. She has guessed, of course, what these scars imply.
What has he done?! He should never have spoken, maybe there is still time, maybe he can make her forget, maybe he can make himself forget, why did he speak, by Hell, why did he speak?!
"Does it... still hurt?" Morgan mutters, her voice muffled by the hand she keeps pressing on her mouth.
Given the look on her face, she looks like she is imagining his pain, no, even more, that she is feeling it.
"Not anymore." Loki whispers, his own voice sounding unnatural to his ears.
She withdraws her hand from her face, then, in a move that Loki clearly did not expect, she lets her head fall against his chest, clinging to his shirt. Her shoulders start to shake, indicating that she is half-laughing, half-crying.
"I'm so glad..." She articulates "I'm so glad we killed that purple fucker!"
Loki lets out the breath he has been containing for he does-not-know-how-long-anymore. Both tears and laughter come to him at the same time.
No fear (past the initial shock). No contempt, far from it. But pain, at what he has gone through, and relief, to know that it is over.
Next, however, she briskly straightens up, and, for some reason, climbs on the bathroom sink. Loki finds himself with both tears running from his eyes and a smile of on his lips at the sight of Morgan uneasily standing above him, her arms slightly open to stabilize herself, with her jeans but no shirt on.
"Uh... Can I help you?" He queries.
"Yeah." She pants, putting both her hands on his shoulders, to stabilize herself "For once, I'm the taller one, what do you say about that, mh?"
And she leans forward to kiss him. He kisses her back, hugging her against him. She is on his side.
Words are power.
Once their embrace is over, Morgan stands up. And, well, she does stand up a little too quickly, without apparently remembering that her head is now much closer than usual to the top of the room.
"Carefu-" Loki tries to warn, in vain.
"Ouch!" She exclaims, a second later, both her hands on her skull "Blasted... ceiling!"
The god of Mischief cannot help laughing at her piteous face, as she quickly gets down. At least she did not hurt the side where her wound is.
"Can you play sexy nurse on me now?" She requests, still wincing.
Loki nods, his palms already radiating with soft green light.
"As you already know, it will be painful." He cautions "But it will not take long."
"Got it." Morgan accepts, before raising her hand to interrupt him "Hey, you know what?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"No."
"Well, in case you're interested..." Morgan rolls her eyes "Your scars are much less visible when you smile."
Even with these scars on his face, she likes to look at him...
"Ready?" He asks.
"Hold on!" She stops him again "I forgot something!"
Loki huffs. Cannot she stay still for a minute?!
Morgan rushes into the bedroom and comes back a handful of seconds later, looking for something on her phone.
"Do not tell me you're going to put..."
"Music, abso-damn-lutly." Morgan proudly declares "Everything hurts much less with a nice background."
The god of Mischief shrugs out of astonishment. Is she insane? Yes. Does he like it?
By the Nine Realms, of course he does.
Had to have high, high hopes for a living
Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing
Didn't have a dime but I always had a vision...
True, it very much looks like the type of music Morgan appreciates. Since she is (finally!) standing still in front of him, Loki carefully withdraws the bandage covering her skull. He can now see the wound. The blood has coagulated, but it remains impressive by how large it is. He looks at Morgan again. She briefly nods, and he presses his hand, surrounded by a green glow, against it.
Her features immediately tense, and she clenches the sink with all her strength, as she forces herself not to move. Loki can feel the tissue regenerating at fascinating speed under his palm. The good thing with her much lower physical resistance is that healing her is at least ten times faster and easier than healing any given Asgardian.
Also, she is right, music makes it more bearable. Morgan keeps staring at him, her lips tightly shut. Her breath is jolty, yet her gaze is marked by both discomfort and relief, as she can probably feel the lesion getting smaller and smaller.
When the cut is finally closed, the only reminders of any head injury are the tiny droplets of dry blood entangled in her hair. As Loki's green light starts to fade, Morgan loudly breathes out, then looks at him with a victorious smile.
"Thank you." She murmurs.
"You are strong." The god of Mischief asserts, his voice expressing nothing but admiration.
"And you..." Morgan pants "... are powerful."
She picks up her phone, then exits the bathroom, to fall face down on the bed. Which immediately draws another exclamation of displeasure.
"If you tell me..." Loki begins entering the bedroom as well "... that you managed to hurt yourself on a mattress, then I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do anymore."
"Even better..." Morgan giggles "I just forgot that I also had to deal with this colourful kaleidoscope on my chest and... I fell right on it."
She painstakingly turns around, to lay on her back. Granted, her bruises are not minor ones. From what Loki has heard, some of her ribs are cracked. Which makes him wonder, where does she draw all this energy from?!
"Well, while we are at it...?" Loki suggests, his hand once again surrounded by the aura his magic creates.
"Uh... Not going to lie, the first round was already strenuous enough... Perhaps later?"
"As you wish." He complies.
Morgan does not move much, still laying on the bed, her hands crossed behind her neck. She slowly is caressing her head, where the injury was, apparently amazed at how it returned to normal.
"Is this ceiling so fascinating?" Loki questions, since she does not take her eyes of it.
"You have no idea." She smirks "I'm sure staring at it will help me get enough motivation to leave this room and face the Avengers, probably all aware that I was having the time of my life on morphine last night. It's all fuzzy to me, but I remember mentioning a salmon and avocado bagel, somewhere."
"If it reassures you, you were very concise: without, what is it, cream cheese, it has no reason to exist." Loki mercilessly reminds.
"Mh. At least, I kept some rationality." She laconically notes.
"Romanov did not expect the kiss, though."
"What?!"
"I have to say, no one did." He grins "But I slightly suspect she has enjoyed it."
"How am I... Master of Mischief, I almost believed you!" Morgan exclaims, having obviously noticed how hard it is for Loki to contain his laughter.
"To be honest, I did not think their opinion would affect you." He points out.
"And you are right. I still don't care that much. What I care much more about is one specific Avenger. You know, the one who almost killed me, almost killed you, and forcefully entered both our minds. These things happen, once in a while."
Loki breathes out heavily and sits next to Morgan. After consideration, he lays down on the bed in the same fashion, his hands crossed behind his head.
"Fascinating ceiling indeed." He comments.
"I know, right?" Morgan sneers "Go ahead, ask me."
"Ask you what?" Loki replies, in what is clearly one of his worse attempts at sounding innocent, ever.
"The question you've had in mind for I-don't-know-how-long!" She glares, visibly annoyed by his game.
"Very well. How did you repel the Scarlet Witch's power?"
Not that he wants an answer here and now. But he has to admit, he... Alright, he does want an answer here and now.
As for Morgan, she closes her eyes and pinches her eyebrow arch, not hiding her reluctance to answer his inquiry.
"It's... so complicated..." She sighs.
"I hope so, otherwise the question would not need to be asked."
Morgan straightens up in a sitting position, taking her time to choose her words.
"We both know that the six Infinity Stones are related. They are not as distinct as their names suggest." She begins "I mean, the Reality Stone?! Reality as we understand it involves basically all the five other Stones!"
"You're digressing." Loki signals.
"A bad habit of mine. My point is, the Stones have a much more nuanced meaning than the one we gave them. Mind and Soul, most of all. They are... very closely related. I can't even say what the soul exactly is!"
Loki remains silent. To sum it up, Morgan is more able to use her powers than to define them.
"To me, at least from what I've learnt, Soul is like... an impetus." Morgan elaborates "A primary instinct, engraved in every living being's DNA. All existing emotions, from happiness to anger, serve this primary instinct: to stay alive."
"In short, what you are able to do is to tap into this primary instinct." Loki recapitulates "You do not manipulate thoughts, but impulses."
"Exactly. The Scarlet Witch created nightmares in order to make us afraid. But I directly sparked fear into her brain."
"Her brain?" Loki frowns, sitting up to face her.
"I am only making assumptions here." Morgan warns "I've done some research, and what I may interact is the limbic system. The thalamus, the hypothalamus, the amygdala, the hippocampus, the pituitary gland, all that stuff. This area of the brain is connected to how emotions are managed, in order to protect the entire body."
"So... When you say that Mind and Soul are closely related, do you insinuate that both you and the Witch interact with the same area of brain?"
"This hypothesis seems to make sense, even though of course, it should be taken with a pinch of salt." Morgan shrugs "If Soul is an impetus, I would define Mind as a reflection. The mind, at least the definition I have of the mind, is related to meaning. It is like... the prolongation of the soul. If all beings have this primary instinct, to live at any cost, some have developed thoughts about why this instinct exists in the first place."
"I did not expect we would come to mention existential crisis so soon." Loki notes.
"We've been dealing with that since... Since we met, basically."
"Right. Now that you mention it."
"The thing is, from what I've heard... Wanda Maximov had to shatter the Mind Stone, to prevent Thanos from acquiring it." Morgan recalls "Not only did it kill the person she loved the most, but, in a way, she also shattered a part of herself. Hence this personality disorder. But as I said, I have no way to find out."
"Would you have been able to destroy the Soul Stone?" Loki cannot help asking.
"No."
Loud and clear. Morgan has not hesitated even one second.
"As long as I'm not able to kill myself, I won't be able to destroy the Soul Stone." She calmly explains "It would be like... doing this."
The gesture she makes is explicit. Morgan puts both hands on the left side of her chest, where her heart is, then extends her arms, as if she was ripping her own skin apart.
It turns out she has answered another of Loki's questions.
"Because the Stone was there." He guesses.
Morgan slowly raises her head towards him, not saying anything, which is the equivalent of a reluctant yes.
"When I wielded the Space Stone, after we destroyed the Gauntlet, I was holding it. You wielded the Soul Stone, yet it was nowhere to be seen. You literally hid it in your own heart."
"I did." Morgan sternly confirms "The irony is, I only realized it once the fight was over. The power the Stone was diffusing was so overwhelming, I had to think of it not only as a jewel without which I could still live, but a vital part of as myself."
Loki closes his right fist, not eager to let memories of their fight against Thanos submerge him again. Yet, he cannot help thinking that, in order to retrieve the Soul Stone, the Mad Titan would have had to rip Morgan's heart off. Which, evidently, he would have done, and very probably enjoyed.
A very uncomfortable shiver runs down his back.
"Loki." She speaks again "What I have just told you, I have never told anyone, and I never intend to. My body has kept traces of the Soul Stone, of that I am sure. If the Avengers hear about it, oh they may have the best intentions in the world, of course they do, but they would never let me go."
"Let them try." He hisses.
"I want your word, that unless I ask you to, you will never speak of this."
The god of Mischief turns an imaginary key near his mouth then throws it away.
"Your word, Prince of Sassgard." Morgan insists.
"You have it." He vows, raising his eyebrow at this unexpected nickname.
"Perfect." She smiles "Now, I guess it's time."
"For?"
"Breakfast. Well, lunch." Morgan eagerly reminds, quickly grabbing a shirt, and Loki realizes that the smell of food is indeed more intense than when he woke up, which is enough to persuade him.
"Take a seat close to the window, just in case either Banner or Romanov has cooked anything." He cannot help recommending, while putting his shoes on.
"Come on, give them a chan- alright, what does she want?" Morgan exclaims.
"Who?" Loki questions, but Morgan is already walking towards the door of the bedroom, which she opens just in time for him to catch sight of Valkyrie, her left fist raised in mid-air, indicating that she was about to knock.
"Greetings, Mighty Valkyrie." Morgan welcomes.
"Hi." The warrior replies, with a little wince of disbelief "Still on drugs?"
"Always."
"We guessed as much." Valkyrie sighs.
"A message to convey?" Loki queries, well aware that she has been sent by the Avengers (rather, the Avengers through Thor), and that she is not exactly pleased by this duty.
"Yeah." Valkyrie grins, staring at him with her arms crossed "Everyone kind of wants to see you. Like, now."
"And what happened that they think we have something to do with though we surely don't?" Morgan interrogates.
"Their friend, the Scarlet Witch. She's gone." Valkyrie huffs "Any clue where she might be?"
