Author is sad, therefore Darcy is sad. Actually I just… I've been very depressed today and here y'all go… Review if you like.

She wasn't okay. She thought making him hurt would've done the trick, at least in a short term kind of way, but Darcy was still feeling intensely depressed one week after her confrontation with Loki. She actually hadn't seen the god since then, and although she was relieved to avoid seeing him again, Darcy felt twinges of guilt. Despite everything, her mind still couldn't match crazy-Loki who had thrown her off a building with the nice-Loki she had met at Jane's wedding, and the idea of permanently traumatizing the latter was unpleasant.

Jane was actually quite pregnant- 6 months, and yet her stomach only gently curved out, perfect for Thor to cup with his hands and caress. Seeing married Thor and Jane was almost nauseating for Darcy, but not because it was sickly sweet; mostly, it reminded Darcy of an intimacy she had yet to experience, and was unlikely to ever find. The happy couple was overjoyed to see Darcy, though, and forced her to spend endless hours with them- talking, reading together, singing, overseeing royal matters, when all she wanted to do was watch some Family Guy and eat Ramen.

She wasn't allowed to leave Asgard for home after two weeks- SHIELD had sent a message with her abrupt arrival and had notified Jane that she wasn't to return to Earth until sarcastic, bubbly Darcy was back.

Darcy didn't know how to tell SHIELD or Thor or Jane the truth: that the old Darcy had died a painful death after a fall from a skyscraper.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Weeks passed. Darcy spent them listlessly rolling about Asgard, half-exploring the library from time to time. She enjoyed the literature but everything seemed to remind her of the giant muddle her life had become. Jane was bigger; her pregnancy was progressing safely for a woman so slight, and that was a relief to Thor and Darcy. It wasn't until a month had gone by when Darcy realized something- Jane was different. Not just, "I'm eating more than poptarts" different, but somehow… radiant. She glowed, with perfect skin and hair that was constantly in shampoo commercial mode.

It took some reading, and a little bit of snooping, but Darcy figured it out soon enough.

"Tell me about the apples of Idunn."

Jane had been startled by the query, and had abruptly stopped brushing her hair before carefully resuming the action. "They're an Asgardian thing… they are, uh, mostly this myth. They say if you partake of the golden apples, you are immortal. You are a god."

Darcy sharply inhaled as her suspicions proved correct. "I just… you really need a damn facebook account Jane, or at least a twitter. I'd like to know that you're going to be around forever… for as long as I'm actually alive, I guess, so it'd just be a fraction of your eternity."

"Don't be so caustic Darce! I had to! It's a criterion of marrying an Asgardian prince! I had to give up my humanity, my mortality to marry Thor- and it made sense at the time, and now I question it but mostly I'm happy with it because I got my husband and baby out of it, and you should be happy for me too!"

Jane was breathing heavily; clearly she had been thinking about this for a long time, and Darcy's words had proved a trigger for a stream of rushed exclamations.

Darcy on the other hand was calm; she knew she had no right to feel angry but once again, the bitter new her wasn't going to let it go.

"I think you know why I'm having a difficult time swallowing this."

Jane turned around and put her hands on her stomach, almost protectively.

"Jane… you know I love you, and you know I care for you and Thor and that baby inside you so much, but… I hate my life! I hate knowing that I'm more likely to get sick than other people, I'm less likely to ever have a relationship that anyone else! Fuck, Jane, you think I want to hear through ten Asgardian scrolls and servants' gossip that you're now immortal? Tell me these things, we're best friends!"

Before Jane could reply she rolled out of the room; dramatic exits were kind of becoming her thing.

A few hours later, a knock sounded on her door. It was Thor, looking concerned and upset.
"Lady Darcy, I must ask you to come with me."

Darcy lay in her bed, earphones on and wheelchair next to it. Thor emitted an impatient man-noise and lifted Darcy from her reclining position, carrying her to-somewhere. Thor disregarded her apparel of a XXL Captain America tee shirt (she got it as a joke from a gift shop before her accident) and impetuously strode down the stairwell to some unknown depths of the palace, ignoring Darcy's protests of "Jane wouldn't like it if you tapped my sweet ass Thor, not that I don't appreciate the compliment!"

They finally stopped before a closed door, which led Darcy to questioningly eye Thor, who seemed intent on not speaking to her. He carefully balanced her as he kicked open the door (silently somehow?!) and entered, for Darcy to see….

Him. Again. Broken, and beaten, and stark raving mad.
"I WAS MADE TO RULE, I WAS BORN FOR GREATNESS! YOU ALL WERE BORN TO KNEEL, IT IS IN YOUR VERY NATURE. KNEEL! KNEEEEL!"

And there was crazy-Loki, except much sadder and far less menacing than before. He was restrained to a bed, fighting furiously and beating his head from side to side, all in a fruitless attempt to break free of his bonds. Darcy couldn't help it; she gasped, loudly, and caught Loki's attention.

"YOU! YOU SNIVELLING, CRYING LITTLE QUIM. YOU DID THIS! YOU!"

Thor turned around and made to leave but Darcy stopped him; "I want to talk to him! What happened to him, Thor? Is this what you wouldn't tell me about?"

Thor sighed wearily and sat on a stair step, gently positioning Darcy so she was supported up by his body.

"No Darcy. What I couldn't tell you was what you have undone."
Darcy immediately saw it- calm, collected suave Loki was a trick. "I knew you couldn't fix crazy like Loki's for real- what kind of magic was it?"

"The Allfather felt that in the time of the war, when I was away fighting… Loki endured a great and terrible madness. He was imprisoned, stripped of his magic, and isolated from every living soul he had ever known. After years of being away, I learned of this and could not bear it… He is my brother and I did not wish to see him suffer anymore. I suppose that he did deserve punishment for his crimes on Earth, but he had paid most dearly by my return. His mind was lost and wandering, like that of ant or a fly. He was broken down, and I had no choice but to bargain with my father. He agreed to give him back his sanity, in exchange for his personality and memories. Essentially, he made a Loki without the anger or the bitterness. I only agreed to end Loki's pain, but it seems he has been in pain underneath the façade, all along."

Darcy's mind was zooming at hyper levels. Memory isolation? Personality programming? Odin's magic was B. F. Skinner's ultimate sexual fantasy- the penultimate behavioral conditioning!

Then her psychologist brain stopped and her Darcy brain began.

"Oh god… Thor, did I undo the magic, and release the whacko? Oh shit Thor, I didn't know! I had no clue, I was just yelling at him one day and then he just seemed disturbed, but he said his head was aching… oh god, now I get it! I am SO sorry!"

Tear threatened to fall but Thor smiled gently.
"I know you did not intend to "break" my brother as you say, but it is most unfortunate that he has lost his mind once more."

Everything in Darcy's mind was screaming no as she began to formulate a coherent yet emotionally charged idea- it was crazy as fuck but she liked it a lot.

"Can I counsel him?"

The look Thor gave her spoke louder than any words…

"What? I'm a professional!"

"Darcy… what you propose is unprofessional even outside of normal legalities. Remember New York?"
"I do and that's why! I promise, just one session! I'll just talk to him. Just one!"

Thor sighed heavily once more, and Darcy grinned in spite of herself.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooo

What does one wear to a counseling session with the man who disposed of her off a building?
Off the shoulder sweat shirt with matching gross sweatpants?

Tube top (to display the girls) and daisy dukes?

She wore a maroon sweater and a silky brown skirt Jane had given her when she first got her wheelchair (Darcy felt pants were no longer mandatory since her legs didn't work) with boots, building her confidence by wearing a bright red lipstick to match her excitement. Her interested was piqued and despite her logical side intensely protesting, Darcy couldn't resist picking Loki's mind, if only for an hour.

TWO HOURS LATER:

"Loki! LOKI! Stop screaming! STOP! I will NOT hurt you!"

Darcy was ready to jump off another skyscraper to finish off what Loki had started- the man wasn't just "mad" or "insane"- the dude was batshit cray. She was used to stress, to worry, to anxiety about a super-spy mission gone awry. Darcy had never seen a really diseased mental patient until that day, and that was when she gave up on "counseling" Loki.

Fuck it.

"LOKI! I'm sorry I made you remember! I'm sorry- I, I forgive you for your throwing me off a building! I- yeah, I do!"

Loki stopped screaming and eerily leered at her, searching her face for something unknown.

"What?"

"You know not what ails me, do you? You come with your harlot's lips and yet you are still as weak as ever. Did your mortal brain ever imagine that once, my mastery of magic could have repaired that which I have damaged? There is no such thing as an irrevocable mistake for a god girl; it would do you good to remember that."

His tone shift was startling- he had moved on from Texas Chainsaw Massacre to Hannibal Lecter, and somehow that was much more frightening.
Then she processed what he had said.

"Magic? What- Loki… are you screaming about your magic? Is that honestly it?"

She was incredulous- it was as if she hadn't understood fully what he had said, and even Loki was aware of it. "Puzzling. You only comprehend that which regards me. How curiously mortal. Let me remind you again; I could put you back together again would my BLASTED NON-FATHER deign to return to me my rightful magic! I have earned the skill and he has bound it away into a corner of the universe blind to me!"

He sounded wounded and whimsical and entirely tyrannical- like Hamlet. The more Darcy thought about it, the more she liked the comparison. Norse God, Danish prince?

And then she finally heard it.

And that was when she shattered, out of the blue.

"WHAT?! You- YOU FUCKER! YOU THINK JUST BECAUSE- ooh god, I'm not gonna forget this- AGH!" Darcy screamed in frustration and turned her chair away, as tears streamed unbidden from her eyes, leaving her helpless to their ebbing flow.

Loki was silenced, and then a voice interrupted her sobs.
"Lady Darcy, it seems that I've distressed you once again. Why is it that I am only capable of reducing you to tears? I am most dreadfully sorry for what I've done, whatever that may be."

Darcy stopped shuddering and turned slowly. Loki's face had smoothed somehow, and though his features were the same aristocratic elegance as they were before, something was different. He had seemed more than just crazy when his alter-ego stepped out- and then she clicked.
"Odin separated your two sides and did a piss poor job, didn't he?"

She shook her head in astonishment- talk about multiple personality disorder.

The polite Loki smiled carefully at her and his face transformed- what were previously bruises beneath his eyes lined with wrinkles turned into faded bags surrounded by laugh lines indicating a pleasant man- not at all the psycho Darcy loved so.

Loki yawned, probably feeling the exhaustion of being delusional and crazed, and blinked, drawing Darcy's attention to his eyes. They were feathered with long black lashes, and were a gorgeous shade of pale green. The color reminded her of the ocean, not pristine and blue, but murky and jaded, hiding anything and everything beneath their depths. She then realized what had changed, and began to slap Loki furiously.

"What- Stop it- why!?" Loki grew understandably angry and flustered, spluttering with indignation until he emitted a roar. "ENOUGH! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A PILE OF FLESH, OF USE TO NO ONE- A BURDEN TO ALL WHO WOULD KNOW YOU!"

Darcy ignored the jibe and carefully peered into his eyes-

And smiled. She loved making correct hypotheses, and this was no different.

Triumphantly patting Loki on the cheek and rolling away, Darcy giggled, despite the piercing blue eyes glaring daggers at the back of her head.