SIXTEEN

You're so cold

Keep your hand in mine

Wise men wonder while strong men die

Show me how it ends, it's alright

Show me how defenseless you really are

Satisfied and empty inside

Well, that's alright, let's give this another try

If you find your family, don't you cry

In this land of make-believe, dead and dry

You're so cold, but you feel alive

Lay your hand on me one last time

- "So Cold," Breaking Benjamin

Alana was lounging in her favorite chair, flipping the pages of a book absentmindedly when Loki walked downstairs with a basket of laundry.

She called out, "Don't mix it with the lights this time!"

Loki snorted. All of his clothes were varying shades of black, gray, or green. He had never actually mixed his clothes with the lights, but Alana liked to tease him.

He didn't mind.

Alana watched him go, a small smile on her face, when suddenly a thought wormed its way into her mind. It nagged at her, so she sighed, giving into temptation, and got up to follow Loki.

"Hey, Loki… question. What do Asgardians wear?"

Loki turned around in surprise. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "No reason, I was just wondering."

He quirked his eyebrows. "Well, our garb is more stylish."

Alana threw a dirty shirt at him.

He laughed, dodging it nimbly, and threw a sock at her. It hit her on the forehead… and stuck there.

Alana tried to pull it off, but it wouldn't budge.

Loki threw another sock. It hit her arm and stuck there too.

Alana finally realized what was happening, and protested, "Hey! No magic!"

He smiled, and snapped his fingers; the socks fell off.

She looked suspiciously at him. "No way did you need to snap your fingers."

"No," he said mischievously, "that was just for dramatic effect."

Alana grinned, leaning against the wall. "No, but seriously. What do Asgardians wear?"

Loki paused, considering, before he replied, "The women usually wear dresses, unless they are warriors, and the men usually wear varying amounts of armor. The women's dresses vary more than the men's, and they usually have many more different styles."

Alana looked thoughtful. "What do you wear? Usually, I mean."

Loki looked at her. "Do you really want to see?"

"Yes," she responded immediately.

"Close your eyes," he whispered.

"More dramatic effect?" Alana asked with a twinge of sarcasm, though she closed her eyes anyway.

Loki smiled. She was smart.

He cast a simple illusion of his Asgardian clothing over himself. Even though he was actually wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, it appeared as if he was wearing his familiar green and black leather garb with his gold armor and helmet.

He might as well show her his dark side.

"You can open your eyes now."

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him in wonder.

"That's… that's…"

Loki's heart sank. Did she think it was strange? Was she frightened? Perhaps there was a reason Thor was considered the handsome one.

"… awesome!" Alana finished.

Loki looked at her in astonishment. He had been called many things, but never awesome.

"It's so you!" she exclaimed. "And I love the helmet. How does it even stay on? Is it magic?"

She reached out to touch it, but it faded away as her fingers brushed through the illusion.

Her face fell a little. "Oh. I thought it was real."

"It is real," Loki said earnestly. "It's just on Asgard."

"So you wear that helmet all the time? It looks kind of heavy."

"No, only in battle. And in formal ceremonies."

There was silence, and then Alana said softly, "In battle?"

Loki looked at the floor, feeling somewhat ashamed. "Yes. As a prince of Asgard, I was required to learn to fight. And I have. I have fought. I have killed."

He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "Do I scare you?" he said quietly.

Alana looked at him pensively. "No," she said finally.

"Well, I SHOULD!" Loki roared. She did not flinch. "You would be cowering in fear if you knew what I was, what I was born as! I am a monster, the monster parents tell their children about at night! I was taken as a bargaining chip, nothing more! I killed my own father!"

His voice broke and he slumped to the ground.

"You should kill me."

Alana knelt down beside him, taking his head in her hands, thumbs soft against his cheeks. "Listen to me, Loki. You are not a monster. And you do not deserve to die. You're not going to die, I promise you. I'm not going to let you die. It's been something out of a dream, these last few weeks with you. Do you know how lonely I was?"

She laughed with tears in her eyes. "And you think you're the monster here."

Loki looked at her in confusion. "But I am," he whispered. "I am a monster."

"No, you aren't," she insisted. "Monsters don't… play piano and eat pizza and stay with people for six hours after they pass out on a beach somewhere. Monsters don't wear sunscreen or like trying strange foods or carry people back home."

She pressed her forehead to his, feeling as if she was going too far, but she couldn't resist and she had to make him understand.

"You are not a monster, Loki."

She closed her eyes, trying to make him believe it through sheer willpower. "You are not."

"Look at me!" he cried.

She opened her eyes. Loki's eyes, inches from hers, slowly turned red and blue frost spread across his skin.

"THIS is my true form! I am a Jotunn, a frost giant! They hunt down and kill all who tread across their paths! They are savage, and hunted, and feared. And it is not enough that I have to be one of these monsters, but I have an Aesir form! Everyone thinks of me as an Asgardian! I belong to neither world."

Alana put her finger over his lips, shushing him.

He was silent, waiting for her disgust, her rage, her repulsion and hatred.

Instead, she traced the raised markings on his forehead with her forefinger, gently, softly.

He shuddered.

"Beautiful," she whispered.

Loki did not understand.

"You're beautiful, Loki."

No one had ever called him beautiful before.

"Look at you. You're… blue!" she smiled, her fingers idly stroking the ridges that trailed across his cheekbones.

"I promise you, you're not a monster. My Loki is not a monster. We've all got monsters inside of us," she said softly. "What matters is if we choose to let them out."

She kissed him on the forehead, then left.

Loki watched his hands fade back to his Aesir form alone.

My Loki, she had called him.

He smiled, the most at peace he had been with himself since he learned he was a Jotunn.

Alana blew out a deep breath. She hated herself. She was still getting closer to Loki, despite her promise to herself.

And she had kissed him. Admittedly, on the forehead, but still.

Why was her life so complicated?

Oh, other girls could like boys without having to worry about hidden powers, PTSD, the fact that the person they liked was an alien, and the fact that they were a government agent told to take down said person at any provocation.

Not her.

She had to continue the way she had been, like a tower, strong and sturdy, not needing any help from anyone to stand tall.

But she felt that she had to help Loki, somehow… her heart had almost broken when he had called himself a monster.

Her life was definitely too complicated.