An unexpected guest

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Steve and I hadn't left each other alone since the start of our honeymoon. It was still so unbelievable that we were here, together, doing something that seemed so normal but was anything but.

We were up at Tractor Hill. I'd mentioned to Taly that Steve and I were looking for a place to go alone when I called her a few weeks before the wedding. She said she was going down South for a week or so, and that we could use the house if we wanted to. I suspected she didn't really have plans to go down South, but nevertheless it was sweet of her so I accepted.

Sometimes I looked at our names carved into the wood, in awe of how well they looked. Keight Rogers sounded so much better than Keight Walsh.

These first few days were spent in each other's arms, tracing skin and learning things about each other we hadn't known before. Steve has made my scars feel beautiful, and I guess that was love.

That night he was halfway down the hill at the firewood shack, gathering wood into a wheelbarrow. I watched him from above, through the kitchen window, rolling hamburger mince between my hands for dinner. I smiled at his broad back, and almost didn't hear the voice behind me.

"Keight, what a pleasure."

I spun around, mince falling to the ground and within seconds had my hands gripping his collar and his lean body pressed against the doorframe. My hands blazed and my green eyes burned into his. I was trembling with shock, pain and anger.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't blow you to pieces right here," I hissed at him. I expected a snappy comeback, something sarcastic and cocky. Instead, he glanced down for a moment, and then looked into my eyes.

"I don't have one." He smiled sadly, and in that moment I realized what was missing from his eyes. That burning madness, the fire that was a little too bright for such a broken man had disappeared, and what was left was cracked and bent and out of shape.

I let go of his collar and released him. He pressed down his pitch black suit with his long white hands and moved away from the doorframe. He glanced at it, and ran his hand over the dents and splinters that covered its surface that weren't there before.

'You've gotten stronger since we last met," he said smoothly. I still held my arms out in front of me, conscious of the small amount of clothing I was wearing, and the things this man had said to be the last time we talked.

"I thought you were dead, Loki," I growled, although I had always known he was alive. Loki and I were connected in a way Steve and I could never be. Our mind bond had remained strong even after 6 years, and I had always felt him in the back of my mind.

"Lots of things have changed since New York, Keight. You, for example, are not the weak-minded girl you used to be." He strode over to the window, and looked out at Steve. Then he turned back to me. I was seething. Last time Loki and I had spoken, I had told him I wouldn't hesitate to kill him if I saw him again. But now he was here, and so different, I didn't think I could do it.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, voice low, brushing hair out of my face.

"I had something to, drop off on Earth, and I thought I'd take the opportunity to see you again. Imagine my surprise when I learned you had married America's Golden Boy," he drawled, eyes piercing mine.

"Why the surprise?" I asked, lowering my hands.

"I didn't think he was your type."

"And you are?"

"I could have been," Loki paused, and looked out the window again, and I was reminded again of how very broken he was, and how lonely he must be.

"I've thought about you often, Keight. Of all the people I've ever met, you have been the most fascinating. And what I did to you all those years ago was one of the worst things I've ever done. And I'm sorry for it."

I had to rewind what he said in my head, because at first I couldn't believe what he was saying.

"You're what?" I exclaimed. Loki smiled, grim and sweet.

"Hard to believe, isn't it? But I am truly sorry. Things, bad things, are happening all throughout the universe, and I knew if I didn't say it now, I might never have the chance."

His words were so unexpected and despite his past actions I could tell he told the truth. I knew how to lie, and I could catch a liar in a heart-beat. He wasn't one.

My hands stopped glowing. I straightened up and made my decision.

I had forgiven Bucky for his sins against me, and while I knew Bucky's actions weren't all his own, I suspected Loki's weren't all his own, either.

"I forgive you," I said softly, and glanced out the window to see Steve coming up the hill with the firewood. "You need to go." He nodded.

"Thank you," he said, and suddenly he looked as though his burden was not so heavy anymore. He stood a little straighter, his eyes a little brighter.

He stepped closer to me, until we were only a few inches apart. My muscles tensed, and I was reminded of a time where I had thought the world of Loki, and even though all those thoughts hadn't been mine, there were a few that had been and if things have been different, maybe I would have been with Loki on Asgard rather than here.

But I didn't regret my actions. I had rejected him, and for good reason. I was happy now, and I was adored by the love of my life and that was all the happiness I could have asked for.

"I once told you that you were beautiful, and you said I was wrong." Loki's cold hand cupped my face, and I let him. It wasn't romantic. It was a sad gesture, reminder for him of what could have been.

"I'm telling you now, I meant every word." His fingers lingered for a moment, and then, without a trace, he was gone, and all that remained of his presence was a cold tingle on my cheek.

The front door opened, and I heard Steve enter the house, having stacked firewood outside the front door.

"Keight?" He called, and I ran to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my head to his chest. Tears dripped down my nose, and I wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was because I had finally let go of everything that had happened to me, and all my guilt and burdens had been washed away.

"Keight? What's wrong, are you ok?" Steve stroked my hair with one hand and wrapped the other around my shoulders.

I cried into his chest, but I wasn't sad. Not anymore.

"I am now."  

THE INBETWEEN ~ STEVE ROGERS [5]Where stories live. Discover now