AN: Thank you so much for the reviews and favorites and follows-my gosh! I will try my hardest to make the improvements suggested, and I will keep trying hard to keep the story interesting! I am notorious for the little sentences, so I will try to make a more conscious effort against them!
This chapter was going to be longer, but everything flowed better when the events were split into two. I hope to get the next half up soon. Also, some lines taken from Thor/Avengers and are not mine.
I hope everyone enjoys! Thank you for reading :D
Chapter 23: Folie a Deux
"Forgive me, but you wish for me to heal you?"
Rolling his eyes, Loki looked impatient with the Asgardian across the room from him. It had been hard enough for him to admit that he needed—wanted—help, so the fact that he was being interrogated only made his choice all the more difficult. Of all people, the doctor should have been happy he had made the choice to seek her council. This questioning was nothing more than drama he didn't need.
"I know well I didn't stutter." Loki remarked bitterly, "You best get on with it before I change my mind."
"And what did change your mind, Loki?" Eir asked curiously, picking up her small leather medicine bag and looking around, "Twas not so long ago that you cared only for yourself."
Looking down at his hands, the man considered her question seriously. There had been many things that made him want to change. As much as he enjoyed power, and as much as he liked the feeling other people's fear gave him, he was not happy. In this exile from Asgard, in being forced to watch Thor smile and laugh daily, he was reminded of everything he lacked. When he looked into the faces of those he hurt the most, he found it harder and harder to convince himself that his exploits were worth it. It was a troubling feeling, one that he would never freely admit to the handmaiden, but if seeking help could remedy any of the distress, he would have been daft not to try.
"Is something wrong?" he questioned, avoiding her question, "You seem to be taking awfully long looking into a satchel that is not so impressive."
He watched with interest as she pulled out a pair of metal rods and considered them thoughtfully before placing them back into the brown leather. One after another, he watched the small vials gather on the elegance of one of Stark's vanities.
"I am simply considering my options." Eir admitted, "As per your mother's request, I packed lightly."
This time, Loki couldn't help but let out a sharp laugh.
"She rarely has good advice." He mused, "Perhaps you should have been smarter than to listen to my mother."
"You did."
Catching the flicker of sadness in the healer's eyes, Loki swallowed hard. The silence that followed spoke volumes—screamed an unspoken tension between them—that stung like a bitter cold. There was such truth laced in such simple words, and Loki was surprised at how badly they hurt him. His mother was a demanding creature, one far more cunning and manipulative than even the Allfather, and Loki had fallen prey to her eloquent and convincing words on more than one occasion. In the end, his mother always got what she wanted-even if it came at the expense of his happiness.
"I suppose I am forced to use magic." Eir decided, interrupting his volatile thoughts, "Though I have fears it will not be sufficient."
"You can raise the dead." Loki pointed out quietly, "A mind should cause you little strife."
Noting the obvious disagreement with his words, Loki watched as Eir simply replaced her satchel and began to walk over to him.
"Diseases of the mind are not like physical wounds, Loki." She explained, shifting the bed as she sat down next to him, "There are no easy fixes."
Lying back on a pillow as per her commands, Loki became suddenly aware of the exhaustion on his doctor's face. Under the make-up, he could see the faint bruising and healing cuts from an interrogation he was trying his hardest to forget. Under her eyes, he could see the unmistakable signs of fatigue that reminded him too much of their time with the Soul Gem. Though he didn't want to ask, he wondered if the stone was once again plaguing her mind? Though he couldn't explain it, he felt horrible at the thought that she wouldn't tell him—even if it had.
Breathing deeply, the prince was aware of warm fingers ghosting across his temples, their tips radiating the familiar tingle of sorcery he had known well in Asgard. Without willing it to, a question escaped his lips.
"Will it hurt?"
Locking eyes with the woman, Loki noted the common hesitation of a healer. It was one trait he particularly detested of their kind—the look they gave when they knew more than they were willing to tell. He was a deceiver by nature, and he knew when he was being lied to and tricked. Healers were just as guilty as him, painting lies to ease the painful truth of disease and the knowledge of an impending end. While the elder healers of Asgard frequently deceived him, Eir never had…and he hoped she didn't start now.
"Yes." She admitted quietly, "Tis a dangerous magic."
Loki swallowed hard as he watched a look of apprehension wash over the handmaiden's features.
"What will happen?" he urged on in a voice barely above a whisper, "Will it work?"
Eir bit her lip and looked away distantly for a moment. He had known her to heal the most devastating of wounds and traverse the most vile of war grounds without so much as flinching. The fact that hesitation had consumed her features only made the prince's jaw clench in fear.
"You will become overcome with pain as magic traverses your neural pathways." She explained, looking into his eyes truthfully, "You will be overwhelmed by the full spectrum of emotion. I cannot promise that you will come out healed…or functioning."
Though he had so willingly made play of minds during his last stunt on Midgard, the idea of someone doing the same to him shook him. He had heard of treatments being performed on patients that had left them crippled, and scarred for life—but he had never thought he would so willingly consent to one. In the back of his mind, he could hear another part of him screaming for him to stop and simply be content with the misery he now lived in. Shaking the poisonous doubt from his mind, he looked up at the woman sincerely.
"I trust you, Eir."
And as she gave him a small, reassuring smile he knew his words were the first truthful thing he had said in so long. While her talents in healing magic were famous, and though she was hailed as the greatest of physicians, such attributes had nothing to do with his trust. The woman concentrating above him-behind the marks of fatigue and the scars of his own selfish pride—had once been his very best friend. She was someone who had saved his life more times than he wanted to admit and who despite the monster he had been, decided to save his life one more time.
When he thought about trust, he supposed there were few, if any, he trusted more. If it had to be anyone to dive into the depths of his mind and play, he was comforted knowing it was her.
Closing his eyes, his senses were suddenly racing with the distinct touch of magic. It started off as an uncomfortable prickling at first, but as the feeling of electricity increased from the warm hands on his temples Loki could feel himself unconsciously gripping the sheets below him. He could feel his face contorting into a painful scowl, trying hard to bear through the increasing sharpness of magic running through his mind. Suddenly hyperaware of the pain turning into something more akin to battle wounds and torture, Loki couldn't stop himself from letting a guttural scream escape his lips.
When she spoke of pain, he wasn't expecting this...
Eir could feel her hands shaking as Loki's face twisted into one consumed with pain. She could feel him shaking, and she could see his jaw clenching in an attempt to contain another animalistic scream. His green eyes were forced shut, the power at which he was closing them enough to draw warm tears down his pale cheeks. Though she had expected the magic to cause this torture, she had not prepared herself to watch it.
Biting her lip, the doctor's eyes widened as she watched a dark blue crawl up the prince's arms—his innate magic failing under her touch. While she knew he had been a Jotun, she had never seen him in his true form. The dark blue skin crawled like a wave over his features, and intricate ridges danced across his skin as she pushed the healing magic further through his mind. As magic skipped over neural connections and raced across nerve sheaths, the pain in Loki's face only increased—and it broke her heart.
"Why didn't you tell me what I was from the beginning?" he sobbed, the emotional saturation suddenly getting the best of him, "I—I'm the monster their parents tell their children about at night!"
Swallowing hard, the woman attempted to focus her magic on correcting whatever chemical maladies she could find. In the background, she could hear Loki crying and screaming through a script of memories she had never heard before. He screamed about how he was never loved, and how everyone always favored Thor- how he never meant anything to anyone. His voice increased as he spoke about being a tool, and how he was only saved so that he could be used. Blinking away the heavy tears, the woman's chest tightened with the realization that he truly believed these words.
"I never wanted the throne!" he admitted shakily, "I only ever wanted to be your equal."
He was talking about Thor.
Closing her eyes in concentration, the woman worked complex healing magic to increase a number of ions and chemicals. As she worked the fine molecular details of his mind, she could hear his emotional state deteriorating when a crazed cackle left his lips. What was coming from the man she knew well was something truly evil—something truly maniacal and sociopathic. On his face was a mixture of pain and satisfaction.
"And when he screams, I will split his skull!" Loki proclaimed excitedly, "That is my bargain you mewli—"
Almost like a switch, Eir could see the effects of the magic taking place on the God of Lies. From tortured soul, to murderous sociopath, the prince had now turned into another version of himself. When her magic skipped through his mind, his emotions seemed to scatter as well. With each area of healing, he turned into another version of himself complete with haunting commentary. He was reliving the worst parts of his life, and Eir had to wonder if her magic would be enough to save his mind after such a damaging journey.
"You're not broken." He whispered, tears streaking down his face, "No matter what my mother says, I—"
Suddenly snapping out of concentration, golden eyes looked down at the closed ones of the man below her. His face still resembled that of a warrior in pain, but his lips had curled into the faintest of smiles. Unlike the other fragments of memory her ears had been victim to, the words that danced off his tongue were ones that were familiar to her. With each passing word she could see a small mosaic of her tears scatter against his tortured features, mixing with his own bore from unimaginable pain.
Using all of her willpower, the goddess tried to finish her alterations as quickly as possible. In the background, she could hear the continuation of sweet words she knew too well and the saccharine promises she knew were never kept. Feeling the tightening in her chest, the woman tried not to sob as she thought of how the script ended, and how the man below had turned into various shades of the monster she had just seen. She tried not to scream knowing that, if her treatment worked, he would return to Sigyn as the man she had loved.
"I didn't mean it!" he cried finally, "I am so sorry."
Noticing that his eyes were still clenched in pain, the Asgardian gave a shuttering breath as she withdrew her hands from his temples. While such words only existed in some play from memories past, she so desperately wanted them to be for her. Drawing a hand against her glossy eyes, the goddess watched as the blue started to recede back to Loki's fingertips and his innate magic begin to take hold once again.
Suddenly starting to feel dizzy, the healer cringed as her body was overcome by a fatigue exacerbated from overexerting her magic. Hearing the deafening sound of her racing heart in her head, Eir cringed as the room started to spin and a heat flushed her face. Trying to steady herself, the goddess could hardly focus as a pair of green eyes blinked to meet her—a look of concern washing over their owner's face.
"Eir?"
But before she could answer, her world went dark.
Tony gave a large yawn as he watched Pepper enter his lab with a small plate of food. The strawberry blonde had a small, chastising look on her face as she placed the late night meal on the workbench next to him.
"I knew I made a good decision when I hired you." Tony grinned, "Pretty girl delivering food at two in the morning? The life."
Smiling at him, Pepper looked over his shoulder towards the many blueprints on his computer. If he had physical copies, he would be sure that the discarded ideas would have littered the floor, their blue pages showing hours of frustration. What lay in their wake were only a few digital drawings, some of which he still wasn't satisfied with, laid out for Pepper to admire.
"I know you won't listen." She yawned, "But you should get some sleep. You can work on these tomorrow."
Eying the blueprints again, Tony wasn't sure Pepper was quite right. Bruce had notified him that the work on the stones was essentially complete, and had handed him a book full of data on each of their properties. His job, of course, was to amplify their characteristics and weaponize them—which, evidently, was no easy task.
"Can you be so sure, Pep?" he asked quietly, "Golden-eye has been looking ominous lately. I don't really trust any of them, but if Heimdall is worried…"
As if sensing his feelings, Tony smiled as a pair of arms came and wrapped themselves around him.
"I can't wait until they're gone." Pepper admitted into his chest, "I liked it more when we had this place to ourselves."
Laughing, Tony placed a kiss on her lips and held her tighter.
"This place is 93 stories. It sounds like somebody is spoi—"
"Doctor Banner is on the line, Mr. Stark."
Blinking a few times, Tony looked at the clock once more. It was unlike Bruce to work at this hour, and he could have almost sworn that he had mentioned going home hours ago and not feeling well. Giving Pepper a nervous look, he looked to JARVIS to answer the call.
"Banner, I didn't know nerds stayed up this late?"
Instead of laughter on the other end, Tony was met only with hysterical crying. Letting go of Pepper, Tony tried to concentrate on the words coming from the other line. He could make out very little, gathering that something bad had happened and that Bruce was losing control.
"She's dead!" a voice sobbed shakily, "I should have protected her!"
Blinking a few times, Tony's eyes widened when he realized that Bruce was talking about his young assistant. Pulling the frantic scientist from his ear, brown eyes narrowed as he looked at the security camera from one of the labs many levels below. Though fuzzy, Tony could clearly make out the image of the woman loading the stones into a metal case. Suddenly, everything made sense.
Giving the phone to Pepper, the genius ran over and hit the security alarms. All around them, bright screaming alarms blared and the sound of metal doors echoed down the hall. On the screens, the man could see the startled look on the woman's face as the room went red, and the doors closed to the most sensitive instruments. Though it would not win him the confrontation, the alerts would certainly buy him time. And that's all he needed.
Thank you so much for reading! Reviews are always appreciated! ありがとうございます!
