A/N: I am so, so, so sorry for not updating sooner. Work has REALLY gotten in the way of my writing. This is short...and really bad, because I wanted to get it up for you guys to read. Not sure when thirteen will come. Please forgive me, I love you all. D:
Another month had passed, and the days pushing into March were starting to look bleak with Anthony and him. His usually over the top, all-about-me boyfriend had turned into an extreme workaholic, sometimes staying away from the dorm for days at a time. He was getting stressed himself since he didn't have Anthony to sleep next to most nights, and he was starting to feel abandoned like he did when Thor left. That was another one of his weaknesses, he had a fear of abandonment, and he wasn't sure what it stemmed from. Reaching back into his memory bank, there was really nothing indicating that he would have future issues with keeping people in his life. It could have been from the way his father treated him but, his mother always made up for it. Loki's life was being thrown around again and he hated it, and when he actually did get to spend time with Tony, he was usually too tired or too busy talking about work. He had tried self-harming but, the pain did him no justice, and he decided it was stupid to cope that way, on his part.
He sighed as he fell back into his normal routine of going back to classes, and actually got to spend time with Professor James, talking about his past documentaries. Alistair was honestly one of the only people who made him happy these days, and he feared he was slipping into a depression. As he was sitting on his desk in Alistair's class to discuss some literature, his mobile vibrated in his pocket. He nearly jumped out of his skin to check it, scampering off the desk and pulling it from his skinny jeans. He was hoping it was Anthony but, when he checked it, it turned out to be spam from some company that got his number. Professor James frowned at him, knowing he was waiting for a message from Tony, probably wanting to offer some words of comfort. Loki just gave him a small forced smile, shrugged, and left the room, dragging himself down the hall. First Thor, now Tony; school started to be somewhere he didn't want to be anymore. No one bothered to look at him or even acknowledge his existence, and Steve just went about his perfect life like he was never friends with the reincarnation in the first place. Clint tried cheering him up when he wasn't busy mooning over Professor Romanova. He admired his efforts but, he didn't think anything would make him happy again. Anthony tried his best but, with his father recently going into the hospital for liver disease from alcohol consumption, he mainly had to keep things in order. He told Loki that he would spend all his time with him when his father was out of the hospital, which should be in a few days. Loki trusted him, hoping he would stick to what he said, which might not be in his best interest.
He made his way out of the halls and to the courtyard where Anthony and he first had physical contact, where he held him and comforted him during a PTSD episode. Loki sighed at the memories, looking at the ground and going about his way. He felt the familiar tug at his heart which indicated depression was starting to set in, so he growled and stalked off to find Clint. The archer promised to take him to a party, all though he honestly didn't want to attend. He just wasn't the type for parties which usually were accompanied by excessive drinking, drugs, the loss of judgement and full impairment. The biggest issue with going to one of those things was that is where Anthony would usually spend his time; somewhere he loved to be. He figured he had no right to act this way, so clingy over a man he only had known for a few months. He was acting stupid, immature, and obnoxious. No wonder why Tony didn't want to be around him. No, that is just the abandonment issues talking. He sighed and turned a corner to get out of the courtyard, keeping an eye out for the blond headed man. A hand fell onto his shoulder and for a split moment in time, because of the strength of the grip, he thought it would be his boyfriend but, when he turned around, he found the man he was on a mission to find standing behind him.
"Hey Loki, you ready?" Clint asked, eyeing him up and down. Barton's smile quickly turned to a frown when he noticed how unkempt the reincarnation looked.
"Sure, we're going now? I thought parties were at night," Loki murmured, trying to make eye contact in order to hold an actual conversation.
"They are, I just want to go to a few places beforehand," Clint responded with a shrug, slapping on a goofy smile.
"Let me get cleaned up. You can wait in the dorm for me, if you'd like," Was the last thing he said as he walked off to his dorm room.
Clint followed behind, trying to strike conversation back up again, making idle talk about college and most importantly, Natalia. Loki could honestly care less at this point, not even bothering to wonder where he was going to be taken before the supposed party. He really didn't want to go anywhere, honestly, he felt like crawling into bed and sleeping eternity away. He was glad his professors understood his depression, and let him leave class early or just not show up at all. He already knew the material, so it didn't matter, and he silently wished he chose advanced placement classes but, he was thankful for the opportunity to work with his idol. He sighed as he made it back to the dorm he shared with his boyfriend, opening the door and waiting for Clint to catch up and follow him in. He shut the door behind him and went into the fairly small bathroom that the university provided to most rooms. When he came back out, fully clothed and looking a bit better than he had, he noticed Barton pretending to shoot random things with an invisible bow and arrow from the bed. He cocked an eyebrow, not even wanting to know what he was doing, all though it was obvious. The man was an archer, so he naturally had to shoot anything and everything, even when his hands weren't gripping a bow.
"You know, I have really good eye sight, and I want to be a pilot, so maybe I should have a code name. Like, BirdMan, or The Eagle," Clint said as he exited, rolling onto his back to shoot an invisible target on the ceiling.
"Like superheros? Maybe I'll call you Hawkeye," Loki replied with a chuckle, walking over to him.
"Hawkeye, that's it! I shall be Hawkeye, the world's greatest marksman,"
"Sure, Clint," The reincarnation shook his head and went to find his knee-high converse, something he hasn't worn in quite some time.
Loki decided his shoes went fairly well with his white skinny jeans and black half-shirt with the words "Pearl Jam" in faded white lettering. The hem was torn, as well as the arms, which made him look like something out of the nineties. His black hair was down and fell around his shoulders in an almost seductive way, in which his nails had to match. They were painted black as well, along with the eyeliner that accompanied his jade green eyes wonderfully. He looked almost gothic, and he swore when Clint looked up at him, he was gawking. Loki put on a necklace that Tony had given to him some time ago, which was gold with a crescent moon shaped charm that had a fox paw print in the centre. He had told him it fit his personality perfectly, and the skinnier man had agreed. The moon represented his dark side, the mystery of night, and the beauty of the moon that dominated the skies at that time. The paw print fit in because he could be a trickster, living up to the god he started out as in life. He sighed heavily at the memories, grumbling to himself about how he hadn't seen him in three days. Clint was at his side in an instant, trying to drag him out the door, in which he let himself be pulled along. He suddenly felt like he didn't want to be touched, like physical contact would hurt him somehow, so he jerked his arm back. Clint made a noise of protest but, didn't touch him again as they walked out of the hall and to the archer's Toyota truck. From being around Stark's flashy car, swarmed by everything "expensive", the beat up truck was kind of like a blow to the face, and for some reason, he wished he wasn't going along with him.
"Where are we going, Barton?" He questioned, curious as to what was going on before the party.
"Just a drive around town. It is four pm, and I want to be there by nine, so we can look around the city. You haven't been around much, have you?"
"Honestly, no," He replied with pursed lips, sliding into the passenger seat of the truck.
Being with Anthony, he was only taken to places the inventor wanted to go, so he never got to see much of New York. Not like he wanted to, America didn't appease to his interests as much as it should have, at least that is what his former father would say. He sighed, thoughts of Thor coming back, making him wish the brute was back. It wouldn't happen, he would either come back when he finished a couple tours, or he would come back in a body bag, and Loki hoped the latter wouldn't be the answer. He gazed out the window as Clint started up the vehicle, revving the engine a couple times before driving off. Normally, the reincarnation would cock his eyebrow and make a comment but, he didn't feel in the mood to do so, plus, it was only something he would do to Anthony showing off. Clint was nice and attractive but, he wasn't his Tony, and he couldn't ever compare. Feeling another wave of depression come over him, he decided he needed to smoke a cigarette, something he had only done about three times in his entire lifetime. He knew things were getting bad if he had to rely on smoke and nicotine to calm his nerves. He looked over to Clint, wondering if he would have any in his car, opening his mouth to say something.
"Do you have any cigarettes?" Loki questioned, watching him point to the glove compartment.
He opened it up, grabbing the pack which read "Marlboro Light 100s", and opened the lid to see four sticks staring up at him, almost like they were begging to be smoked. He found a lighter right beside it, grateful that his friend smoked. He put the filter to his lips, opening them slightly so it fit snugly, holding onto it with his mouth as he flicked the lighter and put the flame to the opposite end. He inhaled the smoke into his lungs to help light the cigarette, holding it in until he could get the window down, taking the cancer stick between two fingers and blowing the smoke out the window. He only coughed slightly, his organs that provided oxygen a bit irritated with him for putting in something that wasn't supposed to be there. Clint looked at him out of the corner of his eye with a smirk, as if he expected that to happen, so Loki just grunted and continued with his smoke. When he finished and looked up, he noticed he was in a location he had never been to before, though there were still tall buildings that surrounded him. From the way things looked, he decided they must have been in the downtown area of New York City, eyeing the people that seemed like they haven't had a shower in months. He wanted to help but like before, he was in a vehicle, being taken to gods knew where. He put the cigarette out on the miniature ash tray that was conveniently located in front of the gear shift, going back to gaze outside. He licked his lips, annoyed at the flavour it left behind, swallowing the build up of saliva and wincing. That taste wouldn't go away for a little bit, so he just had to put up with it for now. At least he was calmer, and that was all that mattered.
Loki looked up as the sun started setting, watching the rays try to reach across the sky in one last attempt to keep the sky bright before night took its turn. Reds, purples, pinks, and blues danced across the atmosphere making Loki wish Stark was here to watch this magnificent feat with him. Glancing at the clock, he noticed it read 7:30pm, which gave them an hour and a half to get back to upper New York City in time for the party. He enjoyed the drive, and he honestly didn't want it to end so he could be around people he despised, doing things he wish never existed. The worst part of it was, Tony was oddly drawn to them, and for him to experience one for himself without his boyfriend at his side, was painful. Clint had stayed silent most of the ride, which was fairly unusual for that man, considering he always had something to say. When the paler man looked over at him, he seemed like he was too busy lost in his own thoughts to strike conversation, and for once, Loki didn't welcome the silence. He put up with it, though, unsure of what to say as they went down major roads to get to their destination. The clock struck 8:02pm as they entered upper NYC, the scenery and people changing to posh very quickly. He snorted, rolling up the window, not liking the draft on his bare stomach as they turned a corner. When it was getting closer to 9:00pm, the sun had lost its battle, and the moon ruled for a few hours once more, they pulled up to an apartment building. Clint parked somewhere and got out, leaving Loki to follow suit, frowning and trying to keep up with the other college student.
He expected him to start talking about Professor Romanova or some other woman he fell attracted to but, the only thing he said this time was that there was a surprise for Loki toward the end of the party. He shrugged it off, walking behind him as close as possible but, not too close so it wouldn't be uncomfortable for the pair. When they entered the lobby, he tensed up, recognising it as the one his boyfriend took him a few months ago. The memories here burned his mind, aching and begging him to recreate them, causing Loki to grunt and Clint to look over his shoulder at him. He offered a smile as if he was fine, so the archer lead him to the elevator. He pressed the button to take them to the top floor, which just so happened to be the twenty-first one, right above where he spent his time with his lover. He decided not to watch the numbers as they went up, only flinching when the "ding" sound went off, indicating they were at the level they were meant to be on. Clint hummed softly and walked down the hall to find a flat, stopping at one that read "635", knocking on the door. After a few minutes and Loki grimacing at the loud music, the door opened to reveal a man around five foot eight, who stared at Barton before looking up at Loki, a smile attached to his face. He sighed, knowing it was going to be a long night, following Clint into the room. The bass blasted into his ears, shaking his body down to the core, enough that he could feel it in his heart. Some trance music, he decided, wanting to retreat and head back to a place he would feel more comfortable in, such as a quiet library or a sandy beach. Cigarette stench mixed with beer was the next to attack his senses, quickly drowning out his smell, diminishing another thing he deeply depended on. All that was left was his eye sight and feeling; the taste being taken by the cancer stick he smoked earlier.
In the second he had that he was recovering the lost senses, bright strobe lights kicked on with the beat of the music, paralysing his sight. It was almost blinding, so he had to sit on the couch to recover. He noticed someone sit beside him, and when he looked over, he noticed some random guy looking at him with lust. He could smell the alcohol wafting off of him so, he sighed, attempting to leave but, still not able to do much. His ways of deduction failed him but, it didn't take a genius to tell the man's intentions were that of only sex. He grumbled to himself that it was just his luck to have some hormone-driven guy try to come onto him at a party that Clint dragged him to. Speaking of Clint, Loki hadn't seen him since they entered the flat. He looked around, trying to see through the blinding lights but, could only make out forms of people grinding against each other like they were on the dance floor of some club. He immediately felt out of place, everything reminding him why he hated these things and a little voice in the back of his head scolding him for even wanting to go along in the first place. He sighed, trying his best to ignore the wasted person next to him, who now proceeded to throw an arm around his shoulders and attempt to pull him close. There was no glow from his chest, no soul patch, no smirk on his face; it wasn't his Tony. The guy slid his hand up Loki's thigh, trying to get out some sort of sentence, causing Loki to start to panic. He was in no way able to escape until he regained his composure, so he just tensed up, closed his eyes, and wished he was in a different place.
The man's lips were now against his neck, below his ear, and he spoke with a thick Norwegian accent, "M-my name is Dixon, and y-you are Loki. You d-d-don't seem like tha military type,"
Loki flinched at the touching and the words, responding with a, "I'm not, my brother is,"
"Y-you don' wanna figh' fer ya country?!" The guy exclaimed as if he actually shocked him.
"Why fight a battle I did not cause?" He said calmly, finally able to get up as Dixon's hand went further up his leg.
He was almost pulled back down but, he managed to escape his grasp and make his way to a bedroom. There was still no sign of his friend, so he walked over to the window and stared out at a fire escape, wondering where it led. He pushed up the glass, noting how there was no screen, and looked up to see it going straight up to the roof. Loki looked behind him, making sure no one was watching him as he climbed out onto the metal, and advanced the stairs. The crisp cold air hit him like an industrial sized freezer but, his body immediately adapted to handle it, even though he was barely dressed from the belt up. He mentally thanked reincarnation as he got to the roof, stepping over the ledge and walking over to find a place to stand, staring up at the sky. Loki felt so alone, like everyone he ever cared about abandoned him, as if nothing would ever be okay again. The guy named Dixon almost raped him, his boyfriend hadn't been around for days, his brother went off to war, his former father hated him, and Clint wandered off to gods knew where. Everything built up as he attempted to count the stars in outer space from what he could see, sighing and letting a few tears fall when he remembered that they were all dead. His body convulsed in a sob, and he let out a scream, finding himself walking forward and to the edge of the building. He put one foot on the ledge, wondering silently what it would be to fall twenty-one stories to his death. He was immediately brought back to the memory of when he comforted the woman who lost her husband, and knew she went on eventually. Anthony would do the same, Odin would laugh, Frigga would turn her love on Thor, his brother would cry but move on, and his select few friends wouldn't even bat an eye. He was alone, so very alone in a world full of people, and when he turned his gaze to the ground, he watched a few drops of his tears fall down toward the ground. Loki inhaled deeply, tensed up, and prepared himself to jump, knowing he lost everything now.
Thirty minutes ago I could have killed someone, or better yet, myself.