Loki oneshots

You Don't Have To Do This Alone (Post-S2 Sylki)

Sylvie didn't know what to expect, venturing back to the citadel at the end of time.

She certainly didn't expect this.

Loki's there before her, seated upon a throne as hundreds upon hundred of ropes, strings, timelines cling to him. It's as though they're a part of him, and he's a part of them, like they're one and the same.

He doesn't look at her. His gaze remains straight ahead, his expression blank, as though he's not truly here, and she pleads to whatever higher power may be out there that that's not the case. He has to be here. He has to be him. She won't know what to do if he's not.

She finds herself frozen, feet planted firmly against the cracked stone of the citadel floor. It's nothing like the palace it was when He Who Remains was here. It's worn down, broken. It faced the test of time, and it lost.

It almost looks as though the same can be said of Loki.

But that can't be true. This is Loki – her Loki, the Loki who would have done anything for her. I just want you to be happy, he'd said. How can she be happy when he's like this?

Then he speaks, his voice lifeless, monotonous. "You shouldn't have come."

She swallows hard against the lump in her throat. "You shouldn't have left."

Loki doesn't move, doesn't even look, and she can't even tell if he heard her, never mind what he's thinking. It's infuriating. It's heartbreaking. It's confusing. She doesn't know what to think, what to say, what to do.

She'd known when she made the choice to seek him out that she would be woefully unprepared for what that entailed, but this is worse than anything she could have conjured in her mind. Physically, he's alive. To a point, he must be present in the moment. But mentally, emotionally? It's as though there's nothing there. It's as though he's someone else entirely. It's as though her Loki is gone.

But he can't be.

She takes a step toward him, slowly, cautiously. If he notices, he doesn't show it. He's still as she approaches him. There was a time not long ago where it felt as though he would do anything for her, be anything for her. Whatever she wanted, he would give it. Now, he won't even meet her eye.

"Loki," she says quietly. She doesn't trust herself to speak any louder.

He does nothing. Even as she stands before him, no more than an arms length away, he does nothing. She feels invisible. He's never made her feel invisible before. But here he is, staring straight ahead as though he's looking through her, and she feels invisible.

This isn't the Loki she knows.

This isn't the Loki she fell in love with.

But she's going to find him.

She holds out a hand, fingers pausing just before they touch his cheek, and still, he doesn't react. She hates it. She hates everything about this. She hates that this is what he's become; that this is what he's been forced to become. And for what? To watch the timelines? That's what the TVA is for. They're still there, hard at work monitoring the He Who Remains Variants. Loki's done his part. The TVA can take it from here.

She reaches up to grab one of the timelines–

"Don't."

Sylvie freezes where she stands, and when his gaze meets hers, there's a coldness behind his eyes that she's never seen before. She's never been one to take orders, but under the weight of his stare, she feels herself shrinking back, bringing her hand back down by her side.