[Under Editing]
During the Chitauri Invasion back in 2012, Y/N L/N met the god of mischief in person. After fighting against the weird creatures to save her students, she was saved by Loki as an act of compassion.
It seemed that there was more to h...
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WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of trauma and triggering topics. Proceed with caution. If you aren't comfortable I'll place a warning before said topics.
》Y/N's POV
The drive back to the Avengers Tower was silent. No one asked what happened or why didn't we have Loki. I was utterly disappointed in myself. I had let Dagrun get away with the scepter and she successfully played with my head again. I thought I would stop thinking of Jonah and what he did to me. I felt trapped in his clutches yet he was locked away in a prison cell, away from me, somewhere he couldn't touch me or harm me ever again. He couldn't hurt me anymore yet I still feared him. I freed myself from him, but not entirely and I hate it. I hate that I brought back the memories. I hate that things as small as a knife attack could make my head spiral. Somewhere in the back of my mind I could still hear Jonah's laugh as he stood over me, carving his knife into my side. For a moment the scar that was covered away under my clothes started to burn. I placed my hand onto my side and gulped silently, trying to keep the attention away from me.
My chest hurt and my throat felt tight. My eyes filled up with tears again, so I bit my lip hoping to hold back the current of tears. I was angry at myself, angry at Dagrun and angry at Jonah.
I looked up a little from my sulking position and my eyes met with Nath's hardened ones. She didn't say anything, but I knew she wanted to. I knew she'd question me back at the tower and I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want her to ask me what happened back there. If she did I would break down. I felt weak and stupid. I thought I had the upper hand against Dagrun, but she proved me otherwise.
Once we parked our van we all filed out of it. I of course hurried to reach my apartment room and locked myself in. I could hear everyone talking outside my door.
"What happened to her?"
"What happened to the scepter?"
"Where did Loki go?"
"Why won't she tell us what's going on?"
"Give her a break Stark, she's clearly going through something and we need to give her space."
"There's no time for that Cap, she needed our help so we helped her. We failed the mission, but she didn't explain why."
"Dagrun escaped that much is clear. We'll figure out another plan. I think Elin and I should try to see where Dagrun took Loki and the scepter."
(Stop reading from here.) I zoned out from the conversation and entered my small bathroom. I took off my armor and looked at myself in the mirror. I was naked, vulnerable and there it was: my scar. It was ugly. It started to burn again as memories flashed into my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut. I could feel Jonah, he's hands on my body, his hand pulling hard at my hair and the lies he fed me every day echoing in my ear. I whimpered feeling my heart quicken. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't stop feeling his presence. I grabbed onto my hair and pulled at it as if I could get rid of his hand.
