EIGHT

Staring at the ceiling in the dark

Same old empty feeling in your heart,

'Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast

Well, you see her when you fall asleep,

But never to touch and never to keep

'Cause you loved her too much

And you dived too deep

Well, you only need the light when it's burning low

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow

Only know you love her when you let her go

- "Let Her Go," Passenger

Loki knelt beside Alana, crumpled on the floor. His heart was racing and he didn't know what to do. He should leave her, he should carry her to her bed and leave her, he couldn't take it anymore. All this pain following him, the hurt and loss and death had caught up to him and he couldn't bear it. He needed to leave her. He would leave her to go on with her life, to meet someone else, fall in love again, forget him again, raise a family without him – and his heart dug in its heels and told him to imagine her in another man's arms, to imagine another man kissing her and making her laugh, and pure rage and fear sparkled in his eyes, she was his.

But then he remembered her anger, her fury, and was she his anymore? Was she different from the person he had loved?

Was he different?

Oh, why had he lied to her? From the start, he had lied, he had lied, he had lied, and she was paying the price, now.

Don't go… please don't leave.

But if he left, she would awaken alone, she would know that he had abandoned her. If he loved her, he should leave, or should he stay? Did he love her enough to leave? Could he give her up that easily? Could he stay? She had sounded frightened, frightened that he would leave her, but she didn't understand, he was poison and he had to leave.

Her face was pale, that ridiculous, beautiful strand falling into her closed eyes. He reached out and brushed it away, tucking it behind her ear.

Was he brave enough to leave? Selfless enough?

He was not. He was not selfless. He was not brave. But for her sake, he had to be.

The head and the heart fought their resounding battle, but the heart was weak, having lost for so long, ruled solely by the logic and the hatred of the mind. He knelt beside her in the darkness of the night and a tear dropped onto her cheek, salt on porcelain, and he knew what he had to do.

He gathered her up in his arms, lithe arms supporting her, carrying her up the stairs, into her bedroom.

A piece of paper from a notebook beside her bed was torn out, and a slightly tremulous hand wrote a note and tucked it into her hand.

But he was tired and she was asleep, and what would be another five minutes watching her, seeing her breathe, her face turned towards him? No, I have to leave.

He sat in the chair he had sat in so long ago, watching her, worried, and oh, he had been so young. They had not known what was to come, their fates, he had only known he loved her.

Just five minutes, he promised himself.

Then I will leave her.

Alana awoke with a start, heart pounding. Her fists were clenched tight and her memories… gone. Again.

She groaned and let her head fall back on her pillow. Gone again, but she had had them, there was something she had remembered about Loki…

Loki. Where was he? Had he… had he left?

She slowly became aware of a piece of paper in her fist. She unclenched it and unfolded the paper cautiously. What did you do, Loki?

I'm sorry, the paper read. I have to leave. You do not need me. I will only poison your life as I have poisoned your soul.

But know that I love you forever.

A tear fell from her eye involuntarily, and she angrily swatted it away. He couldn't leave, she still needed her memories back!

She had to find him.

She slipped out of her bed and recoiled in surprise.

In a darkened corner of her room, a god sat sprawled in her desk chair, worn out at last. His face was peaceful, his brow unfurrowed, and she smiled.

It turned out that he had not left after all.

Despite his regal garb, he didn't seem to stand out. This is right, Alana thought. He should be here. This is right.

And with that thought, a flashback settled over her, but this one was gentler, more like a dream, and this time she embraced it.

She is lying on a beach, and despite her sleep, she is acutely aware of his body, inches from hers. Driven by some force in the back of her mind that she cannot understand, she rolls over, her head resting on his bare chest and he smells of salt and the sea, and she can feel the grittiness of the sand against her face. She feels him stiffen, then slowly relax as his arm curls around her cautiously. The moment stretches on and on… and then she shifts and she hears, very clearly, "Damn it, I love you, Alana Cooper."

She smiles and says, "I love you too."

The memory released her, and a hint of a smile fell across her face.

She stood next to him, watching the way the faint light of the sunrise fell across his face and lingered, dark shadows mingling with his pale skin, black on white. A fallen angel, in her bedroom.

His lips were parted slightly as he breathed in and out, and she found herself moving closer, closer, closer…

His lashes fluttered and she stepped away quickly, heart racing, running a hand through her hair.

He had said that he had loved her.

The idea was strange, foreign. She'd never really thought that she would be someone that would be loved like that.

But he had lied to her, and she couldn't trust him, and she wasn't sure anymore, she wasn't sure if her feelings for him were real or just a product of the past, and she wasn't sure if he was in love with her or the person she had been.

But she would not let him leave until her memories were back. She would not.

And once her memories were back, then she could decide if her future would remain intertwined with his.

He breathed deeply, his chest falling and rising with a steady, peaceful ease.

She balled her hands into fists, regretting to have to wake him, but she touched him lightly on the shoulder and his eyes sprung open.

When he saw her, he stood up so fast she took a step back. He swore viciously and whirled around, facing the wall. "One thing!" he shouted to the air. "I can't even do one thing right!"

"You're not leaving."

He spun back around, facing her. "Let me go," he said, and his voice was furious. "Let me leave, don't you understand – why do you do this to me?"

He collapsed back into the chair, hands covering his face.

"Just let me go."

She was wary, but stood her ground. "No."

"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?" he roared, standing up, inches from her face, pain and rage written on every line of his. "I will KILL YOU! I already have! I saw you die in front of me, I saw you scream, and now you won't let me SAVE YOU? There is no future for you with me, only pain and fear and death! I am not your fairy prince, come to sweep you off your feet! There is no happy ending for me, Alana! Let me GO!" he screamed at her, and she flinched away, eyes wide.

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to compose himself. "I cannot stay."

She folded her arms in a show of determination but he could see her fingers trembling slightly. "You are not leaving until I get my memories back."

"You said they were back."

"Now they aren't. You said you knew how to fix me. Then do it. Fix me and then you can leave."

He sighed in exasperation. "It doesn't work like that. I can't just snap my fingers and heal your mind. Nothing like this has ever been done before, Alana. It would take weeks, months, even. And I will not stay that long."

Her eyes narrowed. "You lied again."

"What?" he asked, nonplussed.

"You lied," she breathed. "I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true. You, falling in love with me – it's a sick joke, and if – if you've been lying to me then maybe it'd be better to not have memories at all." Her voice trembled and her eyes were bright, but she held her head high and the look on her face made him hate himself.

"Alana," he whispered, stepping closer to her, taking her hand (she flinched again), "no. Never, I swear. It was the truth, I loved you, I still – I still do, I promise. And that's why I have to go. I don't want to, but I can't hurt you again. I can't. I would rather die."

She pulled her hand from his. "Then you'll just have to be very careful, because I'm getting my memories back whether you like it or not."

The corner of his mouth curled up into a half smile. "There's the fire."

She frowned a little at him and left the room.

A/N: Wow. That took way too long to write. Sorry.

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