The Old Scars | Loki Hurt/Comfort

Painful Past

*Flashback*
I lick my teeth. The bittersweet and unique taste of blood satisfies all the voices in my head. I wish they wouldn't command me around the whole day, telling me to do this and not allowing me that, never leaving me alone. There is no "alone" anymore. Wherever I am, whatever time it is, no matter how many people are around me: They are always there.
And then, from time to time, they utter their need for blood. Their need for hurt and pain. It's a most desperate craving. They often want to hurt others. But mostly me. They want to taste my blood, see me wind in pain, hear me cry from the bottom of my very being. Every time I have to sacrifice more, more and more of my body to them. It started in some discreet spots, but by now it is slowly turning into a collection of scars, nothing more than a cluster of badly healed wounds, each one satisfying the voices for a moment until they want more. Cuts, bites, scratches.
Little do I know if I am fully conscious when smearing my own blood across my face like war paint. Maybe I am, but maybe I'm not.
It feels like the training of an assassin, improving until ready for the last, great mission. Everything started with small and easy tasks, but they get progressively harder, needing more hatred, more loathing to be carried out. One day I'll be instructed with what everybody sitting in my head and watching has been waiting for: The final kill.

*Flashback end*

I shot up in terror, pearls of sweat forming on my forehead, completely forgetting about Loki lying next to me. He looked puzzled, having no idea what made me jump like this.

"Lady Y/N? Are you alright?"
"Yes, everything's fine, don't worry" I answered instantly, still trying to get the past off my mind.

Loki slowly turned his head and looked at me. We had still been snuggled close together and to be honest, I had never felt more comforted in my entire life. The reason I was here wasn't of a happy nature at all, of course, but Loki's slow and deep breaths, the warmth of his body, and the blanket made me relax. And you seldom relax when you're an Avenger.

I checked my watch, still more than half an hour until I'd go to the dining room.

"Loki?"

"Yes?" He sounded a bit better now, his voice was less frail.

"What do you want me to tell Thor and the others? Everyone's going to ask where I've been this long. And we both know Thor, probably he's already told everyone about the bloody daggers."

Loki stayed silent and turned his face away. I snuggled up to him again. The last thing I wanted to do was pressure or scare him.

"You don't want them to hear the truth yet, do you? And I fully understand that. I mean, more people knowing wouldn't help you anyway. Everyone would ask so many questions, and Tony might even see you as a threat again"

Loki seemed to think about it, then he mumbled "He's right. I'm a monster. I am way too dangerous to live here with you and the others. Why did I even let you that close to me, I could hurt you, I could even kill you if I lost control again. What am I doing here, putting you in danger" 

Rage was filling his voice now, guilt carried deep within the words that seemed to hurt him right the moment he uttered them.

"And still you didn't, you don't hurt me. You are no monster, no threat, Loki. As long as you are OK with it, I'll stay as close to you as you'd like."

"You're forgetting about New York. You'd fear what I am capable of"

I looked down for some moments, then I continued the previous topic.

"Thor hasn't seen the cuts so far. We could just tell him you accidentally cut yourself while practicing some new knife-throwing trick. Just like the one you showed me some days ago, the one where you flip both daggers at the same time without even looking at them. We could just tell them you did that, but you were distracted and forgot to catch them again."

"That's ridiculous, why would I have to practice those tricks? And hurt myself accidentally because I was distracted?"

"I know it may not be the best story but it's probably better than telling the truth, at least for now. For proof, we could even bring one of the daggers to Tony and Bruce so they can look for DNA on it. They won't find anyone's but yours, right?"

"Of course, because I hadn't used them before. But you're forgetting one thing: You've already cleaned them"

"Oh, you clearly underestimate the sensibility of Tony's tech"

"Fine, I don't seem to have any other choice." He said, sounding too tired to discuss any further.

For some minutes, we just lay next to each other in silence, both of us looking at the ceiling. "Does it still hurt bad?" I began again. Pictures of Loki with the dagger in his hand and blood on his arms flashed in front of my eyes.

He seemed to be thinking about what words to choose for a while.

"No, not really. I am curious, where did you learn how to treat such wounds? Is it part of Stark's basic lessons on how to be a good Avenger?"

"It isn't, Tony would rather eliminate every problem instead of learning how to deal with it. I've learned it myself."

"If you Midgardians, especially the Avengers, go to war as often as Thor has told me, then I'd rather be well prepared too if I were you."

"Of course it helps whenever someone on the team gets hurt, but the initial reason was more of a... uhm... personal war."

I wasn't sure why I had just said that. On one hand, Loki was a good friend and I really trusted him, but on the other hand, I didn't want anybody to know. It would mean so much trouble if the Avengers found out. No, so much more than just trouble. That cell in jail was waiting for me.

"My apologies, I didn't intend to make fun of you. If you don't want to talk about that thing, I'll accept it"

"Thanks, Loki. I value that. And of course, I value your privacy too, but if I can in any way help you with whatever you're going through right now, please tell me. There are so many gruesome things in life, there are apocalypses and terrorists, intergalactic forces that are trying to kill us, but in the end, there's no feeling worse than the need to hurt yourself in order to forget all that shit around you. I won't force you to tell me anything. It's totally OK if you don't want to. But know, I understand way more about than topic than you might think"

He wasn't supposed to know that much. Loki was clever, without any doubt one of the most intelligent people I've ever met. Based on the dazzled look on his face, he had already understood what I meant by that. Both of us turned our heads away from each other, an embarrassing silence hovering in the room while the walls of the room were suddenly of great interest.

We didn't really succeed in starting a good conversation again and so I had no other choice than to start thinking about getting ready for dinner. I gave Loki a careful hug, telling him to stay in bed and give his body as well as his mind some rest by at least trying to sleep a bit. I really hoped for Loki's wounds to heal as quickly as possible and without leaving too noticeable scars.

A/N:

I'm not sure about the chapter, some things I just couldn't phrase the way I would've loved to, but well, I hope you're ok with that.

Have a nice day, and stay safe!