The Call [Loki x Siren Fanfiction]

Chapter 32

Sitting up in bed, I rub my eyes, absentmindedly looking for Loki. He’s gone. No wonder the bed feels cold. I swing my legs off the side of the bed, shivering as my bare feet hit the floor. I stumble towards the hall, wrapping my arms around myself. Once I head towards the living room I see the telltale blue glow of the secret staff. Night is the only time he takes it out really. 

As I step into the living room, I look around for him, finding him sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor. His eyes are open, and the staff is laying on the floor in front of him. I walk over to him and sit next to him. I’m really tired, and the desire to rest my head on his shoulder is overwhelming, but the one thing I’m not supposed to do while he’s doing this is touch him. So I sit there, watching his face twitch as he does whatever he does in there. 

After a few minutes, I stand up and get a glass of water. My feet pad softly on the floor as I walk through the kitchen. I turn back to Loki, taking a drink, and I nearly drop the cup. He’s sweating and his hands are shaking, he looks more distressed than I’ve ever seen him. He looks almost… helpless, and it looks so entirely wrong. Disregarding his instructions, I run over to him and shake his arm, trying to wake him up. He doesn’t seem to respond, so I inhale deeply and smack him across the face. 

His face turns to my right and he blinks a few times, trying to connect to reality. I fall backwards onto my bottom, waiting for him to come back to life. When he does, he’s immedietly angry. He stands up, his feet landing loudly on the floor. He runs his hands through his hair before turning back to me. 

“One thing.” He says, angry. “I told you to do one thing! Can you not do one thing? Is really that complicated?!” He demands, shouting. “You’re centuries old, and you can’t follow one simple direction!” I wait until he’s done yelling at me and stand up, looking him in the eye, trying to be assertive. 

“You were terrified, Loki.” I say, trying to be calm despite my shoulders shaking. “Whatever is in there,” I say, pointing to that cursed stick. “Scared you, so please forgive me for trying to help!” I say quietly, trying to keep my tears back.

That stupid, stupid stick is sucking the life out of him, I swear. Every time he touches it it pushes him back into a person I would rather not have known. I wish i could just take it back! Just sneak it back into lockup, act surprised when it’s found, and get Loki back. 

At my emotional words, I see his anger wither away. His face changes, and he comes back. He pulls me close, swaying slightly back and forth as if he were soothing a child. 

“I’m sorry, little witch,” He whispers. Maybe he’ll be done with it now. Maybe I could convince him to take it back. If he got it out he could definitely get it back in. “But you need to not do that again,” 

There it is. Every time. He knows it’s doing things to him, but he always goes back to it. It’s like a drug. 

“Alright,” I murmur, just wanting to go to bed and remember what he was like before the staff was recovered. “I’ll not do it again.”

“Thank you, darling.” He says, starting to sound tired. 

“Let’s go back to bed?” I suggest, stepping back and sliding my hand down his arm, taking his hand. Loki looks back at the staff, debating if he should go back. I whisper a prayer to the ocean, even though she probably can’t do anything about it. Loki nods and lets me pull him back down the hall. I crawl back under the blankets and hold a side of it up, inviting Loki to sleep. 

He slides in next to me and I scooch over closer to him. He wraps an arm around me and is asleep in moments. When he’s asleep it’s easy to imagine that it’s my Loki. That ridiculous staff stole him from me. Maybe I should just… take it. Tell Fury I found it in the laundry room or something. Loki would stop talking to whoever is in it, and we wouldn’t have to keep everyone on board, it would be great!

But Loki might not forgive me if I took it. Do I want to risk it?

No, I don’t.

—

Once again, I wake up and Loki isn’t in bed. At least this time it’s at an acceptable time to be awake for the day. To my relief, the staff is in the corner behind the door. He’s just doing normal people things. In the living room the clock says its almost eight, so my room should be cleared out for a while. 

I open Loki’s door and stick my head into the hall, making sure no one is over here to see me without a shirt. For me, I don’t care if I don’t wear a shirt because my scales got me covered… literally, but it creeps out humans. When it’s clear, I cross to my room and stick my head in, verifying that everyone’s out. 

My shoulders sag at the sight of my apartment. Sure, it’s empty of humans, but it’s full of trash and random cots covered in mismatched sheets. I get to work cleaning up after these idiotic children again. I pull the bag out of my garbage can and start scooping up food wrappers, empty energy drink bottles, and empty cans of fruit. What kind of people are these. 

I clean up the garbage, trying to touch it as little as possible, and then move on to making piles of discarded belongings. I have one pile of clothes, one of electronics, and one of varying personal items left around the apartment. As I start throwing sheets back onto the cots, I hear my door creak and I pull the water from a cup, forming it into a sharp weapon and carefully heading towards the noise. 

The last time someone was in my apartment besides me or Loki it did not end well. I round the corner to the hallway, and find a hungover human in just his underwear. 

“Hey gorgeous,” He says, obviously ogling me. Marching up to him with a very sharp blob of water next to me, I have to resist the urge to relieve this man of his head. 

“You’re that mermaid chick aren’t you?” He asks, leaning on the doorframe. 

“Yes, I am, now get out.” I tell him, my voice low. He clearly is too exhausted to hear me, because he leans forward as if he were going to kiss me. I duck under his arm and wave the water forward, pressing it into his shoulder blades. 

“Get. Out.” I hiss at him. 

“Alright, alright lady, I can tell you’re mad, but if you’re up to it later…” He says, and i can hear the suggestive smirk on his face. 

I whip the knife to the side of his arm and make a short stroke, drawing blood. He runs out, slamming the door behind him. I go and lock it, before going to examine the condition of my room. 

Gently swinging the door open, my jaw drops. My bed, that I left made up neatly, now has all the sheets and blankets crumpled up. My drawers in my desk and dresser are open, with clothes hanging out of the drawers. My personal belongings, however few, are scattered throughout the room. I should have stabbed him when I had the chance. 

This is ridiculous. I let the seven of them in here, I clean up after them, I let them use my bathroom and my dishes and my pool, and they destroy the whole thing, but do I complain? Never. But now, they ruin the one room that I said to leave alone. The room that I LOCKED before I left, and they ruin it. 

I grab that man's uniform, touching as little as possible, and march down to Fury’s office.