The Ant and the Boot

I curled up in a supply cupboard once Loki had stepped away from me, instructing the men around him as he paced around the small ship. I sat alone in the darkness, not letting myself truly break down and weep until all the footsteps moved away from me. I thought that maybe they had forgotten I was here, or maybe didn't even really notice me at all.

I heard that they had lost Agent Barton. I thought of Natasha, wondering if she had possibly saved him. I heard on the intercom back at the base that they had been engaging each other.

Or maybe she was forced to kill him. With the events of the day I wasn't feeling optimistic.

I buried my hands into my hair, curling my fingers into claws that dug at my scalp as I dissolved into racking sobs. I cried for the lives lost, for the destruction that humanity faced, for the friends I'd been forced to leave behind. For my own dark fate as I sat here in the darkness, heart wrecked by turmoil as I was forced to realize that, even though I knew everything Loki did was wrong, I could not extricate myself from his power. He had a sway over me that I couldn't comprehend yet was still forced to endure, a feeling so acute that it could shred my heart and mind simultaneously as it pulled their warring alliances in two.

I considered throwing myself off the edge of the plane. If no one saw me then maybe, just maybe, I could be dead before they realized I had slipped through their grasp. I stared into the darkness, but even though I saw nothing I still had to squeeze my eyes shut. I pulled my knees up to my chest, burying my head in between it.

“Goddamn it, why do I feel these things?” I demanded of myself, voice high, small, and broken. My fingers pressed against my skull, nails breaking it open so the pounding thoughts within could be free, like wild caged birds released into the night air.

I drew back deeper into the shadows, trying to contain my sobs as the click of boots moved near me. Filtered light filtered through the door as it swung open for a moment until it was blotted out by a shadow that loomed over me. I gritted my teeth together, burying my head deeper and trembling.

He knelt down next to me, and I could feel his questioning eyes probing my skull.

“Do not weep,” he said softly. He didn't understand my pain. “Do not mourn those who were lost today. You should be joyous; now you can begin a new life, liberated from the binds created for you by your world and its expectations. You are mine now, and now you can be made into a creature worthy of my praise. Soon you will be standing beside a god, overlooking all other mortals. Is this not enough for you? Is this not sufficient to make any mortal happy?”

His voice was tender, the hands that touched me almost a caress. I loved and hated him all at once. He didn't look at me like a man looked at a woman: he looked at me like a junkie looked at a new drug, his eyes filled with desire and wonder but ultimately only lusting for the sake of using. He would use me up until there was nothing of me left and never even comprehend the weight of his actions.

I lifted my head up, tears still streaming down my face. I bared my teeth, averting my eyes.

“Stay away from me,” I growled, though my voice still broke as I spoke. “I want nothing to do with you.”

The demigod seized my chin, tearing my face upwards to his. His green eyes searched mine, anger flaring within them.

“Why?” he demanded, shaking me. “Why do you and your people resist me? What must I do, destroy you? Must I break you before you will accept me as your god? What actions must I commit before you mortals will call me Master?”

Fear blossomed in my heart like a poisoned rose, its vines twisting into my ribs with thorns tearing open my insides. I couldn't hide from those eyes. Not anymore. I thought he would hurt me, so dangerous were his eyes.

“Want me,” he hissed, leaning closer. “Desire me over those that you left behind. They mean nothing now. Strip your past, as I have.”

I felt a strangled sob creep up my throat. I whimpered, wanting desperately to pull away.

“I can't,” I said brokenly, another wave of tears falling free of my eyes. “I love my world. I love them, those that you destroyed. I can't let them all go.”

He pushed me down against the wall, fury draining the color from his face. Hot pain flashed through my head as my head struck against the wall, contrasting the cold hands that pushed my shoulders to the floor.

“You shall not love them!” he screamed at me, hands growing tighter on my collarbone. “You shall not love those mortals and my brother. You shall love only me.”

I tried to tell him he misunderstood; I tried to do anything, but I couldn't come up with the words to say. All I could do was thrash against the hand that remained pressed down to my neck, trying to escape as he lifted his scepter, the crystal within it beginning to glow with an unholy fire, and pressed the cold tip of the blade over my beating heart.

Then the world became cold and distant, my eyes swimming into darkness save for the ugly green hatred within Loki's beautiful eyes.