AN: Heyo! Yeah, so, I updated this chapter like 2 minutes ago and the code appeared for some reason, soooo

Yeah, I'm not typing out my AN again. So i'll cut it short.

I have one fucking busy week coming up.

im dead inside

here have a chapter while i cry over my lost AN.

Chapter 13 ~ Dancing with the Devil

"Repeat the plan again."

"Oh, bloody hell! I've said it half a million times by now!"

"Well, we don't want to screw this up, do we?"

"We? Or you? I believe I know the plan just fine, thank you."

"If we screw this up, all of us stay dead and the universe falls apart. Which do you prefer; repeating the goddamn plan again, or being trapped in a stone forever while the universe crumbles around us?"

Loki tolled his eyes with a scoff. "Honestly, Stephen! I thought you saw the future, hm? If you saw the future, you should know the plan!"

Stephen sighed. "It doesn't work that way," he huffed. "Please, for the love of Jesus, repeat the plan already!"

"Fine, but if the others notice our absence don't blame me," Loki mumbled grumpily, crossing his arms. He let out a long breath, before reciting the plan he took a whole 10 minutes to formulate (it would have gone quicker without Stephens constant bickering— one would think the man would take a hint and let the brilliant mind work.)

"We go back to whatever sort of camp those morons have set up, make sure none of them are dead, then I say I'm going to scout for more victims of the snap, and then kill myself and make it look like an attack. Happy?" He finished with a huff, glaring daggers in Stephens direction.

"Thank you. Was it really that hard?"

"Is it really that hard for you to keep your mouth closed instead spewing useless sarcasm?"

Stephen rolled his eyes. "You've spewed nothing but useless sarcasm since the moment you encountered Thanos' ship in space, I can assure you."

Loki snorted. "And how would you know?"

"I'm a wizard. Duh."

"Oh for the love of- you've spent too much time with that Spider-child!"

"How about we get to saving the universe before they notice we're still gone?" Stephen prompted.

"Of course! Start an argument, begin to lose said argument, then order me to move along. Very smooth, Stephen."

And with that, the two sorcerers pushed through the undergrowth of the clearing they'd been speaking in and began the relatively short journey back to where their group was last located.

When they arrived at the campsite, there was already a stack of firewood collected. Bucky was hunched over a stack of wood trying to get a fire started, while Sam was telling him he was doing it wrong. Cooper, Lila and Nathaniel were all crowded around Fenrir, running their small fingers through his fur, talking to him and giggling— somehow, Nathaniel had gotten on Fenrir's head and was playing with the wolf's ear (Fenrir didn't mind; he looked quite content.) The Spider-boy was arguing with Quill about some stupid food venue on Earth, while Jane was discussing space and science with the rest of the Guardians. As Stephen and Loki arrived, all heads turned to them.

Jane was the first to speak.

"And where the hell were you two?"

"We went to survey the area," Stephen replied coolly, striding passed her to help Bucky and Sam light the fire; he waved his hands and flames appeared, earning a grunt from Sam.

"Stupid magic…"

Loki glared fire at Stephen; he'd used the wrong excuse, and now Loki would have to compromise. Judging from the shit-eating grin Loki was met with when Stephen looked up, the sorcerer knew he screwed up the plan. Damn idiot…

"Maybe next time you could share your whereabouts with the group? We thought you'd ran off like Romeo and Juliet," Jane said.

Stephen snorted at the reference but didn't reply. Loki was extremely confused and chose instead to use Jane's concern to his advantage.

"Well, I'm sorry mother. Shall I tell you the next time I take a breath, as well?" Loki snapped. Saying the word 'mother' again was… strange, but he didn't feel sorrow or anger at the memories the word brought up. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Jane crossed her arms. "I'm just saying, Mr. Emo Nightmare, that telling us you're leaving so we know not to come looking for you would be helpful. I thought we were supposed to be a team, trying to get out of the stone."

"Mr. Emo…? You know what, I'll just ignore that part. And we aren't a team; we're a bunch of clueless fools thrown together in a group because we failed to stop a titan from obliterating half of the universe! I've only put up with you lot so far because I want out of here; the moment we're free from this stone, you can fight Thanos on your ow. I'll be making the smart decision and getting as far away from Thanos as is possible."

Jane growled at him. By now, everybody had gathered in a ring around them— save for Stephen, but he was watching with interest from where he stood beside the fire. From the looks on their faces, they all bought his lie. Loki noticed, however, that Fenrir held a certain wisdom in his green eyes— almost as if he saw past Loki's manipulation and had already figured out what was happening. Loki locked eyes with the wolf and Fenrir gave the tiniest nod. Loki smirked.

"You know what, Loki?" Jane began, taking a step forwards. "You're nothing but a coward! Thor was right to leave you when you'd 'died' on Svlartalfheim!"

Loki growled. "Coming from the one who was dumped by said blonde maniac!"

"He didn't dump me, I dumped him!" Jane huffed. "It was a mutual dumping!"

Loki nodded. "Ah, yes, that's right; you didn't want to face the fact my brother had no use of you anymore, so to make yourself feel better you told yourself that you were finished with him too. Sorry, I forgot how relationships with mortals go."

Jane growled and was about to charge at Loki when Stephen held her back with shaking hands.

"No. Let him leave. He's not worth it," Stephen growled. Loki met the other sorcerers gaze and nodded. As Loki turned away, the circle parted for him to pass through. As he left the group of faded heroes behind, he couldn't help but grin.

This is too easy.

…

The first word from Carol, Rocket and Nebula came a month after their departure. Steve had been in the kitchen, chin resting on his folded hands with a piece of toast half-eaten in front of him. His compass from the army sat closed next to his plate, and Steve had his blue eyes fixed against it intently.

His thoughts were disrupted, though, by FRIDAY.

"Incoming transmission from the Benatar."

Steve jumped at the AI's voice, blinking at the blue screen now floating in front of him. The screen held three white dots, a loading screen, until Carol Danvers popped up. She nodded to him.

"Captain Rogers."

"Ma'am. How's the rest of the universe holding up?" He asked, lowering his hands away from his face.

Carol shrugged. "Not too great, if I'm being honest," she sighed. "Planets are in ruins, while others are in a blind panic. We just finished helping out Stent and it's inhabitants."

"Will you be returning soon?" The captain questioned. "It's quiet around here without Rocket."

"We're halfway across the galaxy, Steve," Carol replies with a sad smile. "And Rocket hasn't been that lively since we left. I don't know if it's me or the snap that's got him down. Besides, haven't you got that rock guy?"

Steve sighed and placed his head in his hands. "Do not even get me started with Korg. Do you know what he did the other day? He broke the compounds Xbox controller playing some video game. Clint was pissed."

"That bad, huh?" She sighed sympathetically, knowing what Clint was like when he was angry. Recently, his anger had doubled, so the sight wasn't all that uncommon. Anyone who set Clint off was frowned upon. "Well," she began, "better you than me."

"Well fuck you, too, Danvers."

"Dirty mouth, eh?"

"Oh for the love of god-"

"-bless America."

Steve sighed. "You've definitely been hanging around Fury, huh?"

"Well, for a few months if you count space travel, yeah. It was a while ago. We couldn't really keep in touch while I was away from Earth because he lacked the technology. Besides, you forget I'm from Earth."

"How could I? You sure act like you are."

Carol snorted. "Well, I better go. Rocket hates when Nebula is his co-pilot and we're just exiting the atmosphere."

"Good luck, Ms. Danvers."

"You too, Captain."

And with that, she was gone.

…

Tony slammed his notepad on his workbench in frustration, pushing his chair away and feeling it slowly roll across the lab.

Ever since he'd gotten out of the med bay, he'd been working nonstop to find a solution to the blip. Sometimes Pepper would come down with a glass of water and a meal, talk to him for a bit, before giving up and leaving. Rhodey even came down a few times to check up on him, but Tony just ignored them, scribbling furiously on his notepad.

And he'd been so fucking close, but now he's struck a dead end and he was stumped. Him, Tony fucking Stark, was stumped. Tony growled and put his head in his hands. No matter what he tried, what equation, approach, scenario, nothing worked!

And what was worse, he kept finding Peter's things everywhere.

After Toomes, Tony invited Peter to his lab every Friday to work on his suit and his web-shooters. Occasionally, they'd work on one of Tony's projects.

The first time he came down to the lab, he'd found the boys decathlon jacket and his homework. He'd given the items one look and his heart shattered.

"M-mr. Stark?"

He'd thrown the homework across the lab and into a wall but couldn't bring himself to do the same to the jacket. So, instead, he kept it. He now found the yellow material grounding.

"Mr. Stark, I-I don't feel so good."

He'd taken the notebook Peter had used for his homework, too, and used it to write his equations and solutions on. When he got stumped or couldn't get his brain to work anymore, he'd flip back the pages to notes and equations the boy did in it.

"I don't know what's happening…"

Thinking about the notebook, present Tony rolled his chair back to his workbench and closed the book, gliding his fingers along the cover.

"Please, sir."

Tony glanced to the side where the decathlon jacket was hanging off the back of a chair. Peter's chair.

Peter was sitting in the chair, bent over his web-shooters with a screwdriver in his hand, tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. Tony shakily approached. When he stood a few steps away from the chair, Peter turned to him.

Except his face was bloody and turning to dust.

"Please, sir," he whispered hoarsely, "I don't wanna go."

And then Tony was on Titan again, rushing forwards to catch the boy as his legs crumpled to dust beneath him.

"I don't wanna go!" The teenager cried.

"I got you, kid," Tony said, because what else could he have said? The kid was sobbing in his arms as he turned to dust.

Tony twisted to lie Peter on some rubble of the previously inhabited planet, unable to support his weight with his injury.

"I'm sorry."

With a roar, Tony turned around and swept all his tools, papers, research and data off his workbench and to the floor. Panting, he sank down to his knees and held his head in his hands, covering his eyes.

"Goddamnit!" He screamed, slamming a fist on the ground beneath him.

Peter was gone, and like the rest that faded, he wasn't coming back.

…

Loki didn't walk far, only far enough that no one would hear him.

He came across a river not too far from the camp and crouched down at the edge.

"Damnit, Strange, this had better work," Loki growled, before summoning a dagger to his hand.

He couldn't just snap his own neck and be done with it. He had to make this believable. If one of his group mates (ex group mates) were to come across his body, they'd be suspicious. Even if he made it look like suicide, he was sure that the smart spider-boy would figure out something was off.

So, he needed to be… 'attacked.'

And he had to lose.

Damn, this plan would be ruining his pride.

With a low growl, Loki brought the knife to his clothed upper arm and sliced.

His sleeve ripped with the knife, and so did his flesh. Blood oozed out from the fabric in a small cut.

"Great. One down, several dozen more to go."

And so he kept cutting, cutting, cutting until he was littered with scratches and wounds that bled painfully.

Next, he shuffled over to a tree and rammed several body parts into the trunk, not with enough force to break anything (his bones or the tree) but enough to bruise. When every part of his body hurt, he punched himself in the face to get bruised knuckles and a black eye.

When he was sure that he looked beaten up enough, he picked up his dagger with steady fingers and held it above his chest.

"Here goes nothing," he mumbled, before bringing the dagger into his flesh.

He gasped, sinking to his knees. He grunted in pain as he maneuvered himself to be half-lying in the river, watching through half-lidded eyes as the water turned crimson with blood.

His final thought was, hel, here I come.

.

.

.

.

Loki was falling again.

He couldn't tell which way was up or which way was down. He could only remain limp and fall.

He felt the pain of his injuries littering his body, and he bit his lip to stop from crying out. His body twisted and turned as he fell, and all Loki could do was watch.

He couldn't move.

He couldn't see.

He couldn't hear.

He couldn't feel.

He couldn't breathe.

Loki hated falling. In fact, he hated it more than anything. Ever since throwing himself off the Bifrost, he'd avoided falling like the plague—even if the drop was only a few feet. The trickster couldn't stand feeling weightless, couldn't stand the nauseating twisting and turning his body performed in free-fall.

And now he was falling again. And he didn't know why.

He fell for what felt like years. He wasn't sure if it was actually just minutes, or seconds even, but when the dreaded falling finally stopped there was suddenly ground beneath him.

As his senses returned, he assessed his situation.

Loki was lying flat on his back, a hard and rocky surface beneath him. There was no rushing water around his shoulders, so he couldn't still be in the river.

So where the hel was he?

Oh. Right.

Loki blinked open his eyes and sat up. He was in a dark cave, lit dimly by torches. The flames we large and vicious, yet nothing was affected by the heat. Pillars of crumbling dark stone rowed a grand hallway, looking almost like an echo of Asgard's palace. But Loki could notice the difference. For one, there was no gold; just stone. The walls and pillars were crumbling away and looked like they would collapse at any moment. The ground was littered with loose stones and was cracked in certain places.

Basically, the place looked like shit.

But, if Strange was correct, he was literally in hel. So that could be why.

With a small wince, Loki gathered his sprawled limbs and stood, barely stumbling. He looked around himself in awe and noticed there was no doors anywhere. Guess there was no way out of this place.

Finally, when Loki felt that he had a good idea of the environment he was working with (in case of a fight, of course; a habit he'd learned whenever he was somewhere new,) he started to walk down the hallway. His boots created an echo as they met the floor, the sound bouncing off the walls surrounding him. Loki kept in guard, eyes flickering dangerously to each pillar he passed. Something could be lurking in the darkness. Something was always lurking in the darkness.

Finally, after a long walk, he saw something other than stone pillars. At the end of the corridor stood a throne. At least, Loki assumed it was a throne. It was made entirely of bones, bones of more than one race. They held some sort of chair-shape, yet it was still sloppy. Loki assumed that was where Hela sat.

As if on cue, a dark figure appeared on the throne. Long dark hair covered a face as the figure lounged on the chair of bones. As Loki got closer, the figure looked up.

Hela was definitely not the same as when Loki last saw her. His dear sister's hair was slightly shorter, more unkempt, and her eyes were much duller. Her cheekbones were gaunt and sunken in, and dark bags hung under her eyes. As Hela shifted more, the rest of her face was revealed.

The skin was melted away on half of her face, revealing bones and raw pink flesh. The bones continued down her neck and stopped just passed her collar bone. She still wore her black and green jumpsuit, though it was torn and better revealed her lack of skin.

Loki approached her slowly and cautiously, while Hela never took her eyes off of him. When he stood below her throne, she spoke.

"Loki. Brother. It appears you've come to another fateful death. How sad." Hela smirked slightly as she spoke, and Loki frowned.

"I take it you know about my other.. unfortunate demises, then?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Oh, of course I do! Who do you think sent your soul back to your body? Not Odin, that's for sure," Hela snapped. Loki frowned. He never knew that.

"Why?"

"Hm?"

"Why send me back? Why not hold me to torture for eternity?" Loki clarified.

"Well," Hela murmured, pondering it for a moment. "I suppose you could say I saw myself in you. You were different, not like the rest of our family. And I'm not just talking about your race," Hela added when Loki opened his mouth. "You knew that Odin was a foolish old man, and you turned against him. I thought you'd be like me. Until that old witch turned you soft again," She added in a hiss. Loki growled and stepped forwards.

"Do not speak of my mother that way," he warned.

"Or you'll what? This is my realm, Loki. I rule Helheim, and I hold control over you. You cannot do anything."

Loki curled his upper lip and lowered his head. She did have a point. And he didn't come here to start fights. He had a universe to save.

"So, dear brother, why don't you tell me why you came for a visit?" Hela asked, shifting on her throne. The bones stuttered beneath her. "You killed yourself for a reason, correct."

Loki nodded. "Yes. I require your assistance."

Hela laughed, tilting her head up so her hair fell back out of her face. More of her scarred face was revealed, and Loki couldn't help but glance at it—something he'd been trying to avoid since he saw Hela.

The goddess seemed to notice where his eyes travel and bared her teeth. "You and your brother did that to me, Loki. You sent Surtur to do your dirty work instead of facing me head on, like the cowards Odin raised you to be. He melted away my flesh and banished me back here. So, tell me, why exactly should I help you?"

Loki tilted his chin up, calling upon his speaking talents he used oh so often.

"You know what Thanos has done. I know you've felt it." Hela's grin fell off her face at the mention of the Titan, so Loki continued. "That madman has wiped out half of the universe and trapped their souls. How will you reach them if they are not in your realm? How will you torture them? Hear their screams as you- "
"Alright, I get it, I can't torture them!" Hela snapped. "So you want me to help you so I have more souls to… play with?"

Hela narrowed her eyes thoughtfully before continuing.

"You know, I never wanted all this," Hela murmured, gesturing to the crumbling stone palace around them. "I never wanted to rule Helheim, I never wanted to torture souls. Never wanted the life Odin gave me. I just wanted Odin to be proud of me. That's why I helped him in his conquest. I thought that if Odin loved me enough, he wouldn't leave my mother. But, he did anyways, left him for that old hag Frigga."

Loki didn't interrupt, even though his blood boiled. He had to make her see things his way, whatever it took.

"She was the reason he stopped at Nine Realms. He fell in love with her, and she convinced him to stop. Left my mother, sent her away, threw me here. Covered up his life before. I never wanted this. And I know you're just like me; an outcast, a freak. Unloved by Odin and having only the goal to make him proud. That's why I kept you alive. But he changed you, like he did to the rest of Asgard. Now you're running about, playing the hero, trying to save the universe. It's funny, the way you follow Thor around like a lost puppy. Melt at his every command because you seek acceptance. I know who you are, Loki Laufeyson. But you do not know me.

"What makes you think I won't take the souls for myself once I free them? You want everybody back in the land of the living, but if you think me a monster you'd know that I'd only keep them for myself. Yet you've turned to me anyway. It makes me wonder; have you simply run out of options, or is there more?"

Loki took a deep breath. "The universe lacks balance. I can feel it, and I know you can, too. The amount of souls with the living under weigh those with the dead, and the universe is slowly breaking apart. If this continues, the universe will be destroyed entirely; Helheim included. Besides," he tilted his head, "if you truly do not want any of this, you would not want to keep the souls, anyways."

Loki stopped speaking, and Hela raised an eyebrow.

"There's more than just that, isn't there? You have a strange look on your face, but I'm not sure if that's just your resting face. If it is, I suggest you get it checked out."

"No," Loki sighed, "there is more.. You are obviously aware I am a Jötunn, correct?" Hela nodded. "You are also aware I've been affected by an infinity stone—Mind, to be exact, in the past, correct?"

"I can feel it's energy tainting your soul, that and the Space stone," Hela confirmed.

"The infinity stones are powerful entities. When Mind was used on me, I was under it's control. But when cognitive recalibration was performed to release me, it did more than just free me from the stone. It freed me from Odin."

Hela looked confused. "Explain," she ordered.

"When I was taken from Jotunheim, Odin placed a spell on me so that I would not remember the time I spent as a Jötunn; part of his plan to raise me as his son and use me as a tool later, but I'm not getting into that right now. What I will bring light to, however, is that when Odin picked me up on Jotunheim for the first time, I saw into his mind. It was intentional, obviously; my seidr worked on it's own accord, seeing as I had no way to control it yet."

"I have noticed the amount of power your magic wields," Hela murmured. "It radiates off you in waves. You're more powerful than any other sorcerer I've seen."

"I-I'm.. honored?" Loki stuttered in confusion.

"Don't get used to the compliments, brother. Continue."

"Right. Well, when I saw Odin's memories, I saw you. And Odin didn't have many memories of Thor yet, seeing as he was just born; he had more of you. So my seidr created a form similar to that it saw, and that is why we.. resemble each other so closely."

"I did notice that. You stole my color, brother."

"Apologies. It goes with our eyes." He smirked.

"Our?"

"I got my looks from you, sister. We have the same eyes."

"Whatever. What does this have to do with anything?"

"Odin did seem to think fondly of you; memories of you were stronger than any other. I still have this recollection of you; when you arrived after Odin died, you just wanted to reclaim what was taken from you, correct?"

Hela scoffed. "Obviously. The throne was my right, and Odin took that from me so I could instead play executioner away from his sight."

"Exactly. And you've just told me you never wanted to rule hel and torture souls."

"Somebody has to do it," Hela shrugged with a distant look.

"So my point is I knew that you weren't a completely horrible person and trusted our wonderous father one last time. I knew you would help me restore the balance without stealing the souls for yourself."

"What if Odin was wrong? What if I did want the souls for myself? You simply took a gamble in coming here for my help?"

Loki shrugged. "They do not call me the God of Chaos for nothing."

"I could have killed you the moment I laid sights on you, yet you still took the risk," Hela laughed. "I do like you, Laufeyson. It's been centuries since I've encountered a risk-taker such as yourself."

"I am one of a kind, aren't I?"

"Don't get too cocky, brother, you aren't that much of a star."

Loki rolled his eyes. "So? Will you help me?"

"On one condition. You get me out of this horrid place so I can live my life in peace."

"Of course, sister. Consider it done."

"Then we have ourselves a deal."

Loki nodded, before a sudden thought struck him.

"By the way, I found Fenrir in the Soul Realm."

"You did?" Hela's eyes lit up, the most alive he'd seen her since he'd arrived in Helheim. "You didn't harm him, did you?"

Loki scoffed. "Of course not. I'm not a murderer, contrary to popular belief. Besides, we're both adopted, so it would be wrong to kill him off for past quarrels."

"Figured that out, did you? Wolf boy isn't a real wolf?"

"Of course I did. I am such a star, aren't I?"

"Watch yourself, Laufeyson. I may change my mind about helping you."

...

Again, I did have something here, but I'll cut it short.

DO NOT SEND MORE THAN ONE REVIEW ABOUT A VOTE FOR A SHIP! I have two that look like they're from the same person. I refuse to copy and paste the reviews because I think that's what screwed up the last attempt at this chapter.

The ship score is:

Loki x Valkyrie with 12

Carol x Valkyrie with 7

vote in the reviews if you haven't already

.

ok

...bye lmao