Funeral

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The day before the funeral, you're sat in your room, flicking through photos of you and Clint, deciding which ones are frame-worthy and which are just for the photo book. You come across a nice one of him: It was his first time making pancakes and he'd tried flipping it too early, so the pancake mixture had just gone everywhere, including down the two of you. He's bent over the stove, face wrinkled with laughter. It's starting to feel like you're back there with him, when Jarvis interrupts your train of thought. 'Miss Barton? Mr Stark and the others are asking for you.'

Sighing, you unfold your legs and hop over the bed. In the kitchen, they're all gathered around the breakfast table. You pick up a croissant that has your name written all over it. 'Oh, thanks, guys.' Even though, somewhere in your mind, there's a little voice telling you it's rude, you start to walk back to your room. 

'Actually, that's not why we called you in here.' Tony says. He has half a mouth-full of egg, but speaks anyway, holding his hand in front of his mouth. 'You've been here for a while now, and we don't really know anything about you other than your dad and your name.' 

You grimace; You're not used to talking about yourself. Your eyes dart between the eight of them, skipping past Loki quicker than the others. The way his gaze seems to see straight through you unsettles you. Wanda gives you a reassuring smile, encouraging you. 'I don't really know what to say. I'm y/n,' You give an awkward little hand gesture towards yourself, 'I'm 20. I'm a scorpio, a dog person, and I like long walks on the beach.' Everybody scowls except for Loki, who lets out an amused chuckle. When nobody says anything, you continue, 'Fine. I've lived with my dad my whole life and I was homeschooled. Mum died when I was 3 and that's all I know about her because Dad changed the subject every time I brought her up. He kept me a secret from you guys because he thought I was too powerful for people to know about. Didn't want people with bad intentions coming after me. He didn't tell me much about you guys otherwise I would have wanted to join.'

 'Speaking of your powers...' Wanda begins, 'We've seen them, obviously, but what are they exactly?' 

'Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that it's energy.' Instinctively, you conjure up a pea-sized mass of energy and pass it between your fingers. 'I can create it, destroy it, manipulate it.' 

Bruce shakes his head. 'That's impossible. Energy can't be created or destroyed.'

You flick the little energy ball towards him, but it dissipates when he tries to catch it. 'That's what dad said, but here I am.' 

There's silence as Bruce stares at you in awe, but it's broken by Loki. 'Well I don't know about you guys, but I'm glad she's on our side.' He sounds like he meant it to be funny, but behind his words, you infer an interest in you. Maybe even a defensive tone. You turn around and leave before he can see your smile. 

----

Waking up the next morning is unlike anything you've had to do before. The day of the funeral. You don't see why they're putting an empty coffin into the ground. It's not like it'll bring him back, but you acknowledge that you're not the only one grieving, so if it brings comfort to the others, then you have to be there, even if you don't want to. There's a knock at the door. 'Come in.' You roll over to see who it is. 'I'm not in the mood for an insensitive remark, Loki.'

'I just came to see if you were up. Breakfast is on the table.' He clicks the door shut. You swallow the lump in your throat and roll out of bed, throwing on a black turtleneck and trousers. Even though you see a grand breakfast laid out on the table, cooked by Wanda (who, you've learnt, stress bakes), you can't bring yourself to eat anything too big, so you just half-heartedly nibble on a piece of toast. Everybody's watching you like you're about to explode. 

'Guys. I'm fine. You don't need to watch everything I do.' You note. All but Nat and Wanda turn away. 

'It's just going to be the 9 of us there, if that helps,' Nat says. Before you can reply, she continues, 'And it's nice weather out, which is good.' She seems to be unable to stop speaking, as if she knows that when she stops, she'll have to acknowledge the fact that her friend's gone. You do the same thing. Her eyes well up. 'It'll be really peaceful-' A tear spills over onto her cheek, and Steve takes her hand. She pulls her chair away from the table with a loud screech on the linoleum and walks out the room, hand stifling a sob. Steve follows. 

'Why don't you guys go out to the cars? I'll follow in Nat and Steve's car.' You suggest. They all nod, putting their plates in the sink and walking past you to the door. Peter purses his lips in an attempt to smile at you, but it ends up looking like a deformed grimace; Wanda squeezes your hand; and Loki watches you cautiously. When you're sure they're all outside, you look around for Nat and Steve before heading to the liquor cabinet. You grab the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels and take a long swig before the taste can set in, shaking your head violently as the dry burning sensation crawls down your throat. 

'Y/n? Depleting the alcohol stores, I see' You jump and whip around to see Loki standing in the doorway. Of course it's him. Always out to embarrass you, even on your worst day.

You gesture towards him with the bottle, the brown liquid sloshing, a little spilling over the rim. 'Yeah, well, how about you go to the only person who ever cared about you's funeral and then judge me.' You say cooly and take another swig, then place the bottle back in the cabinet.

It was a quiet ride to the funeral. Nat and Steve didn't try to make conversation, and you certainly didn't want to mention her crying. You hadn't known her for long, but you knew she doesn't like being vulnerable in front of people. Loki had decided to ride with you, but even he wouldn't dare bring it up with Nat. So you all just sat in silence, stewing in the grief.

During the service, you're all stood in a horseshoe around the burial site, the others recounting stories of botched missions, poor decision-making, and laughing fits. As Thor recalls Clint attempting to lift Mjölnir, insisting it was a trick, a whimper escapes you and you clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle it. Loki, who's stood to the right of you, notices and takes your hand. He doesn't say anything and he doesn't look at you, so as not to draw attention to you, but it's comforting knowing he's there. You're sure if you ever mention it he'll deny it, but for now you just focus on the roughness of his calloused skin and how cold his fingertips are. A distraction, you tell yourself. That's all it is.

----

You went straight to your room after the service, not even caring to take your shoes off. It was an awful car ride home: Wanda and Nat's tear-stained faces; Steve and Tony's stoic gazes; and Loki's hand, which you'd not wanted to let go, clasped in yours until the moment you stepped out the car. A few moments to yourself, that's all you needed. A few moments of peace and quiet, without worrying about people watching you, waiting for you to explode. 

The cramped spot between the wall and the bed is where you situate yourself, comforted by the small space. You sit with your legs propped up on the wall and your head on the mattress, and you just stare at the ceiling. Quietly, to yourself, you resolve to start moving forwards, and if you can't do that, at least appear like you are. 

Things are changing, and you have to change with them, or you'll be left behind.

Energy - Loki x Readerحيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن