Witchcraft (An Avengers/Witchblade Fanfic) DISCONTINUED

A Matter of Time

(A/N: holy shit, we are over ten thousand reads. Okay, so this here is a teeny weeny bit of a filler chapter because I suck. The next chapter is gonna kick this turbo duel into overdrive though, hopefully. Probably. Oh yeah, what happens while the boys are in Asgard is basically the plot of Thor:The Dark World minus all the Loki subplots. Kind of. Just think The Hangover but not really. Also just a trigger warning for a bit of self-harm I guess)

"Are you sure you're not coming?" Bruce asked me for the umpteenth time.

"Yes Bruce I'm completely sure, now hurry up and leave will ya." I said, irritated.

He rolled his eyes and patted me on the shoulder. He walked out of the glass doors of the Tower and out onto the balcony to join the rest of the guys assembled out there.

Thor held his hammer up to the sky and bellowed "Heimdal, OPEN THE BIFROST!"

Bruce and I waved our final goodbyes as the blue beam of light absorbed them, disappearing with a boom just as abruptly as it had appeared. I slowly walked out and looked at the markings it had left on the ground. They were beautiful, and reminded me of some of the Norse carvings I'd studied before. To be honest, I was completely kicking myself. I mean, come on, INTERDIMENSIONAL TRAVEL. I scuffed the ground with my foot and pouted. Oh well. If I didn't make myself go and see Scott now, I'd probably keep avoiding him for the rest of my life.

I sat on the circular marking watching the sun rise. I don't know why they'd left so early. I know Stark had said something about being 'less suspicious at night' but a bright blue beam of energy coming from space is going to look suspicious whatever time you see it. As the sun's light began bouncing off the windows of the surrounding buildings, I remembered that it was supposed to be some ungodly temperature again and went back inside to prepare for the onslaught of heat. I went to my room to get dressed, putting on some shorts, a baggy t-shirt, grabbed some money, and walked down the street to the nearby convenience store to stock up on ice cream and other essentials. I got a bit of everything because I didn't know what Loki liked, but I thought he'd appreciate something later. Maybe.

Last night after Fury had complained about all the Avengers causing havoc, we came home. The flight had been quiet, with everyone licking their own wounds in a way. Clint was touchy, and I'd heard he hadn't spoken much since I'd talked to him after... Yeah. He was sitting between me and the wall of the plane. From what I could see, he didn't want contact with anyone else, he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts but still have the comfort of being near someone who could empathise with his situation. Stark and Steve were sitting near the front of the plane, discussing the aftermath of the fight and all that jazz. Steve's expression was firm and neutral, but his eyes were full of mourning. Thor was sitting towards the back, a row in front of Loki. He looked tired. So tired. But also worried, and I could understand why. Nobody had seen Loki after the surgery except for myself and a few choice nurses, and he didn't turn up to board the plane until the last minute. He was wearing jeans and a black hoodie, with the large hood pulled firmly over his face. He'd glanced at me as he walked to the back of the plane, and it could see he'd repositioned his hair to cover the scarred side of his face. He had curled up in the last seat and once we'd gotten back to the tower, he'd gone to his room without a word and hadn't left since. Thor had tried to say goodbye this morning, but hadn't gotten any response.

I stepped out the door of the store and was overwhelmed with how hot it had gotten in so little time. People had started getting more irritated as well. Sipping my ice tea, I sauntered back to the Tower wondering what the hell I was actually going to do this weekend.

~~~~~~~

After shutting all the curtains and turning the air conditioner on, I'd decided that horror movies would be the best way to go. They do tend to send a chill up ones spine. I giggled aloud at the incredibly shitty pun I'd just made. Clint would've appreciated that. As I put the ice cream in the freezer, leaving a tub out so I could eat some now, and the rest of the groceries away, I wondered why they made him go with them to Asgard. I understand the need for a distraction but, I don't know. Clint acted like he didn't care but I could tell he just wanted the world to stop for a little while so he could process everything.

And that's how my day went. Horror movies and ice cream. It wasn't exactly fantastic, and I got bored by two o'clock in the afternoon, but it was still pretty good. When I'd finished the third film, which was some foreign film about nazi zombies that definitely would not be a good one to watch with Steve around (or maybe it would be? He seems pretty well adjusted by now. I dunno.), I decided I'd go and check on Loki.

I took the elevator down to the residential floor and walked quietly to his door. I couldn't hear any noises from his room. Maybe he's asleep. I bite my lip. Look, I don't want to have shitty company this weekend. But I do think he needs to come out. Maybe not now but soon.

I knock on his door a lot harder than I need to. "Hey, everyone's gone. Come upstairs and eat some ice cream or something, you loser." I said rather forcefully. Well if Clint had to got to the thing and his ex-partner had just died, than Loki can drag his sorry arse upstairs.

I hear movement from inside and move back from the door. The handle turns and opens a crack. I can see Loki's good eye peering at me.

"What?"

I step closer. "Ice cream. Come on. You've been moping in here long enough." I glare at him. Sighing, I reach for his arm and he flinches away.

"Don't touch me."

I turn away in annoyance and start walking to wards the elevator. "Well come onnnnn." I get in and stare back at him, challenging him. His eyes lock mine and I smirk. "Weak."

As the doors close I'm tempted to add 'If your father could see you now'. I gasp as the doors shut with a 'bing'. What is going on? I... I wouldn't... Why would I do that? I shudder. It's really happening isn't it.

I shook my head, attempting to clear it but the day was boring enough that the thoughts just kept floating to the surface. My eyes were welling up with tears again and before I could stop, I was crying. I sat on the couch and I just cried. I knew this was inevitable but I just-it's too much.

I'd been crying uncontrollably for about five minutes when I heard the elevator arrive. I stopped as suddenly as I started and proceeded to hastily wipe my eyes. I heard Loki open the freezer and I coughed. I stood up and walked outside. It felt like walking into a furnace. I walked to the edge of the balcony and squinted. Nope, nothing had changed since this morning. I put my hands on the railing but yanked them back off. The metal railing was incredibly hot from the sun. I glared at hit, but then a thought came to me, and it was so fucking stupid I was just going to do it anyway. Gingerly, I put my hands back on. I could feel them start burning as soon as my skin made contact but I didn't let go. I tilted my head to the sky, closing my eyes and concentrating on the sounds from the street below. I needed proof.

"What are you doing?" I heard Loki call from behind me. I didn't answer.

I could hear his slow footsteps padding towards me and I could feel him standing next to me. I opened my eyes and looked at him blankly. His hair was wet, like he was just out of the shower. His hair was covering his ruined eye.

He put a finger on the railing, quickly withdrawing it before it started to burn. "What are you doing?" He asked again.

I turned away and didn't say anything.

He grabbed my wrist and his hand was freezing cold. He pulled but I just tightened my grip. "Let go."

I shook my head.

His hand squeezed tighter. "I said let go." He growled.

I just looked at the ground.

"Fox," he said, more gently this time. "Let go."

I slowly released my hands, wincing as they stretched. Loki took them in his and turned them over to look at my palms. They were red and raw. He rubbed the centre of my left palm with his thumb and I cried out in pain before I could stop myself. But he didn't say anything, he just led me back inside and began running cold water over my hands.

I couldn't look at him.