There is no beat, no melody.
Nothing but pain, darkness, the walls crashing in around him, darkness threatening to submerge, drag him under, misery falling on him like waves, breaking him, shattering him.
But all is still.
Loki sits, legs curled to his chest in the darkened basement of the Avengers compound.
He is alone.
He is afraid.
He is tired, weak, hungry, and he longs for his brother.
His brother believes him to be dead.
In the darkness, two lights appear, hovering above him, illuminating small circles around them like an anglerfish in the depths of the ocean.
Loki is too broken to care. He rests his forehead against his knees, and sobs.
He feels the presence of someone sitting down next to him. They say nothing, only keeping him quiet companionship.
"Leave me here to die." He whispers.
"Why?" A light, innocent voice speaks.
"Don't you know who I am?"
"You're Loki." The voice says. "The metal man told me. He is angry with you."
Loki sniffles, and wipes his face, which seems to simply be incapable of ceasing to leak, on his sleeve. "Aren't you afraid of me?"
The voice does not answer, instead, a small squishy packet is pushed into his hands.
"What is this?"
"I don't know." Comes the answer. "But my friend Drax thinks they are very tasty."
Loki deftly unwraps the paper from whatever it is, and feels the contents with shaking fingers. He has no idea what this is, but something tells him that he can trust this soft, gentle voice with the two lights. He takes a bite, and almost gags at the distinctly Midgardian taste, but forces himself to swallow, anyway. He needs the sustenance, and, he's not going to lie, he's half-starved.
"Do you like it?"
Loki hiccups. "No."
"Neither do I." The Trickster's companion admits. There's a pause, then they speak up, again. "You are sad."
"Hm." Loki doesn't have the energy to be sarcastic.
A soft hand touches Loki's fingers, the ones that aren't tightly clutching the Midgardian fare in his hand. The lights glow a little brighter, and there's a pause. Then, a distinct sniffling sound.
"What's the matter?" Loki feels he ought to care for whatever person this is. After all, they had come down to feed him and talk to him, even when no one else would.
"Your… your pain…" The voice sobs. "It's so harsh. So… raw."
"Who are you?" Loki demands, and sits up a little straighter. This person… they're an empath. They've been sent down here to crack him open like a walnut, and leave hm even more vulnerable and broken than before. A spy for the Avengers. "And how dare you?"
"I'm sorry!" They say. "I didn't mean to… I thought I could help."
"Help?" Loki spits. "How? Who sent you down here?"
"N-No one." The voice cracks miserably. "I thought you would want a friend… don't you?"
Doesn't he? Loki frowns in confusion, and calls upon the weak remnants of his sedir to create a ball of light, illuminating the person's features. It's a woman, wearing some sort of jumpsuit, her arms wrapped tightly around her, as she blinks up at him. Her eyes are wide, dark, with long lashes, and filled with tears. Whoever this is, she's genuine. She actually cared enough to come down here, and help him. "Who are you?" He asks again, more gently, this time.
"I'm Mantis." She whispers. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"About your name?" Loki frowns in confusion, and finally glances down to see what in the nine he'd been eating. It seems to be a sort of sandwich, but with far too much buttery-like substance for his taste.
"No." Mantis shakes her head. "About your sadness. You have a great deal, and you keep it hidden much of the time. But, if you would like to talk about it, I'll listen."
"You'll…" No one has ever offered to simply… listen. He's always had to push down everything he feels, everything he thinks, in favor of being polite, or simply staying alive. "Why?"
"Sometimes it helps." Mantis shrugs.
"Don't cry, again." Loki instructs.
Mantis nods, and wipes her eyes. "I'll try not to. It's just… so… sad."
Loki nods hesitantly, and spills. Everything, everything that weighed on his heart for so long, he brings it all bubbling to the surface. And Mantis listens. She doesn't interrupt once, and by the end of it, he's crying. Quietly, she moves over to him, and wraps her arms around his neck, murmuring soft words of comfort into his ear.
They remain like that for a long time, Loki sobbing into Mantis' shoulder. Anyone else, he would've pulled himself together by now, would've put a bold face forward, but Mantis… She understands him. She cares for him in a way that he hadn't seen anyone care for him in a very long time. Not since Frigga died.
Eventually, Mantis lays a hand to his weary head, and murmurs an order for him to sleep. He does, leaning against her shoulder, for once, at peace.
Yay, so this is the first stowy I've ever written in present tense, so yey that. Mebbe?
TheOnlyHuman.