Chapter sixty - The Quinjet

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A/N: I got a bit carried away with this chapter; it's super long. Hope you enjoy :)

...

You had no concept of how long you stayed in the holding cell for.

Vaguely aware that Loki was trying to talk to you through your mind, you concentrated on not listening to him. You'd befriended the giant rock man, his name was Korg and you were currently teaching him how to use a sword (the guards had taken yours when you'd been unconscious, but you'd simply summoned it back to your side). If you sat down for too long you would start thinking about Fandral and Volstagg again, and you weren't ready for that yet. Korg wasn't keen on sword fighting, apparently happy to rely on his fists. To be fair, they were made from rock.

Just as you were showing him how to disarm an opponent, Korg suddenly straightened up at the sight of something behind you and launched your sword over your head like a javelin. You span around in shock to see Loki ducking beneath your quivering sword which was wedged in the wall where his head had seconds previously been.

"Good aim." you praised.

"The ghost is back." Korg announced, moving to stand in a position which looked as though he was ready for a fight. You didn't stop him, lifting your chin a fraction of an inch as you watched Loki straighten up and yank your sword from the wall.

"I'm not a ghost." Loki said, punctuating the word ghost with the removal of your sword from the wall. He crossed the cell and held your sword out to you.

"Hey, you know this guy?" Korg asked you.

"Yes, he's an associate of mine." you replied, your eyes not leaving Loki's as you took your sword from him.

"Do you know Thor too?" Korg asked, lowering his gun.

"Yes, this is his brother. Although you'd never guess it." you said. Loki looked away, clenching his jaw. A second later he had your arm in his grasp and then you were in another room, his room. He had a room here. You ripped your arm from his grip, glaring at him, trying to ignore the pounding in your head.

"What are you doing?"

Loki gaped at you, at a loss for words. Finally he seemed to find them.

"What am I doing?! How about what are you doing? You turn up here after weeks, covered in blood and shutting your mind off, picking fights with the Grandmaster's guards..."

"Yeah, to find you having a fucking holiday!" you shouted at him.

Loki laughed in disbelief, and your anger increased tenfold.

"A holiday!? I had to work hard to gain the Grandmaster's favour-"

"How exactly did you gain that favour, may I ask?" you asked vehemently, cocking an eyebrow.

"I- Y/N, don't be ridiculous. It was nothing like that." Loki told you indignantly, understanding perfectly what you'd be insinuating even though he couldn't read your mind.

"Were you not worried about me?" you asked, internally loathing yourself as you heard the hurt in your voice. Loki heard it too, and the injured look in his eyes made you hate yourself even more.

"Of course I was, you know I was. But after- when you..." he took a deep breath.

"When you died, before." he finally managed. It looked as though it caused him physical pain to say the words aloud. He was of course referring to the time you had drowned and been brought back to life by Tony's quick thinking.

"I felt it. You know I've never felt anything like it before and I hope I never have to again; we've talked about it. I knew you were alive." he stated.

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