“You have already saved me.”
“Don’t leave,” Sigyn pleads as Loki lifts her from the basin’s edge. Water drips from her hands, dropping onto the floor. “Please, not again. I couldn’t— I don’t know how I survived the last time.” Loki feels a pang of guilt at the sheer desperation and sadness in her voice.
”I was only gone a short while, my dear,” he explains, trying to soothe. “I was looking for—”
“Not then,” she says, shaking her head tearfully. “Not then…”
Loki’s brows furrow together for a split moment before it clicks. That cold, distant moment of his fingers slipping from Gungnir, the endless fall, the hopelessness. The excruciating pain that followed. The memory coils in his chest like barbed wire, curling around his ribs.
She presses her forehead against his shoulder, her breath hitching wetly. He does not like the sound of it. “I searched everywhere. Everywhere. Everyone told me you were gone. If I had kept looking, then maybe—” A sob cuts her off, her body shuddering violently in his arms. “I should have caught you, protected you. I should have known that something was wrong.”
Loki’s chest aches, something jagged finding its way into his throat, barring him from speech. He adjusts his grip on her carefully, one arm sliding beneath her knees, the other cradling her back as he lifts her from the floor. It takes a measure of effort to find his words again. “You couldn’t have known,” he murmurs into her hair, “And even if you had, you couldn’t have caught me. Nobody could have.” He was determined to end it then. Even if someone had prevented his fall, he would have found another way.
“I know how close you always are to that edge. I know how easy it is, how tempting it is to step off of it. I am so terrified that I will be too late again.” Sigyn’s voice is barely audible against Loki’s shoulder, her hands curled carefully against her chest.
He carries her back toward the bed, her body trembling against him, her breath ragged with fever and grief. “Promise me, please. Promise me you won’t go where I cannot follow. Not again. I love you so much, it is like my heart may burst, and I cannot bear any more loss.” The words are slurred, delirious, but desperate, her fingers twitching helplessly against her. Those tremors are getting worse... “If I lose you, I lose everything,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I am so tired of losing...”
Loki shifts, pressing his lips against her damp temple. Every muscle in his body is rigid with the effort of holding himself together. He lowers her onto the mattress with exaggerated gentleness, moving as though afraid she might crack apart beneath his touch like a glass doll he might damage if he handles her too roughly. “Listen to me,” he finally manages, brushing his thumb over her heated skin. “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. The fault was never yours.”
“I need you,” she whines pitifully, “Please, don’t leave… Don’t leave.” Loki shakes his head, leaning down to press his forehead against hers.
“You are too well-woven into my soul, Sigyn.” He says, tucking a thin blanket around her shaking form. “I am here.” She exhales shakily, her fever-glazed eyes struggling to focus on him as he retrieves a cloth dipped in cool water, wringing it. He presses the cloth to her forehead, his eyebrows creased with worry as he tries to bring down her fever. She responds to it, turning her head in the direction of its coolness.
“It always feels like there is something trying to take you away from me,” she says, weakly.
-short snippet from a sick fic i wrote
janainaart
areudirty
origamiaround
gummygunk
prguitarman
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
snowghoul
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
