Loki one-shots fanfiction ♡

21. don't turn your back

He was murdered by Thanos. His body was sent to y/n. That's where it all started.

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This chapter is based on a movie in which its name will be revealed by the end of the chapter.

Trigger warning's applied so be warned!

Y/n stood there. She had a gun in her hand, but she just stood there, frozen in shock. Years of training: all gone and forgotten when the man pointed his gun at her head. She could do nothing, couldn't bring herself into being the one who pulled the trigger first and saved her own life. Gunshot went off and she could see it in slow motion; the bullet piercing through the air with fierce whoosh. It was going to go through her skull, she expected it to go through her skull, even waited for the moment to come. Except the moment never came.

Before she knew it the guy was on the floor, blood gushing out of his chest. She never pulled her trigger. Slowly y/n turned around, her heart dropped when she saw her partner lying on the ground, a gun in his hand and a bullet whole on his chest.

"Y-you... could have... shot him," said her friend, who just saved her life, before his eyes drifted close.

It was supposed to be her. It should've been her.

Y/n woke with a start, bolting upright and panting hard. Forehead covered in sweat. It's been a month, though the nightmares still seemed as real as ever. Running a hand down her face she looked at the digital clock on her nightstand table, the number flashed 21:08

Shit, y/n swore, I'm running late. The former crime scene investigator swung her legs down the bed and hopped to the bathroom; a quick bath and then she grabbed a pair of jeans and her favourite blue navy blouse along with her lab gown. Nothing too causal but nothing too formal for a nightshift as an intake assistant at the morgue in a hospital in New York.

After the incident y/n said goodbye to her badge. Since working with living people didn't work out for her, she worked with the dead instead. At least that made everything less complicated. There wasn't much for her (new) job description; take the body from the intake bay to the morgue, take an overview picture of the body, close-ups of each individual injury, and the fingerprints. Don't forget to send it to a crime database and there's that. Not that hard, but still not for everyone. If you believe if you had what it takes to work alone at night in complete silence with the dead and terrible smell, and not easily spooked by your imagination when you hear strange noises then you should be good!

What could possibly go wrong!

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23:50

There was not much tonight. She took care of a body from a homicide case and that was it. When there wasn't any incoming it was almost an easy, boring night alone with her thought. Though her thought wasn't always easy. To distract her mind from traveling back to the incident y/n opened a laptop and started typing her report away, anything to keep herself busy. A computer-ish voice from the speaker snapped her out of her trance; incoming arrived at intake bay, incoming arrived at intake bay, and it would go on and on till she went over and the corpse was taken inside. Y/n closed her laptop and walked over to the elevator that would take her down to the hospital's stuff's parking lot where only the dead was brought.

"Hey, Henry," Y/n greeted, putting the electronic key in the keypad and once the light went green, the glass door slid open, allowing Henry to haul a stretcher, with a body laying under those white sheet, inside.

The two of them walked down the hallway in silence. It was supposed to be just y/n alone with the corpse, but Henry was that gentleman who always insisted to keep her company until they reached the morgue. It wasn't much, but it was good, that y/n had to admit, to have a living people by her side from time to time since she now spent ninety percent of her life with dead people.