' i had all and then most of you, some, and now none of you '

LOKI HAD HONESTLY NOT EXPECTED THAT WHEN HE reunited with an old friend, if she could be called that, it would spark up such a friendship. But he was pleasantly surprised when it did. There was something comforting, especially considering the situations, to have someone who had drowned with you. To know you aren't completely alone, you weren't completely alone.

The remainder of the day was spent quite similarly, with her catching him up about all the shit Thanos had done in his time away, and other less heavy topics to tell stories on. He'd been away from the rest of the vast galaxy for so long, so it was a nice reminder of the life he had been absent to. Not that he missed it, because he didn't. Well, not too much anyways.

Besides, it wasn't like Loki himself didn't gain a hell ton of stories from spending time on earth, time that he didn't even expect to be there for, but didn't regret a second of. So most of the time, they'd exchange stories, him lifting the mood after she told him about Thanos' brutally with some story about Sam and Tony racing. Or a story about Steve and suppressing snickers when he told his mission speeches. For someone who despised, and was despised by the avengers for so long, he had grown to become a part of the chaotic team.

Yet, despite all of his stories, they all seemed to circulate upon one singular topic. Wanda. His Wanda. A part of him didn't realise his consistency until she'd tease him about gushing over the redhead, and he'd denied it profusely when she accused him of going soft. He wouldn't admit it if the world came down to it.

"Wait, so you and your girlfriend turned your team into babies and then looked after them, and quite clearly failed miserably because you lost them?" She asked, attempting to catch her breath after laughing so intensely at his expense. He rolled his eyes, an exasperated smile on his face.

"Okay, first of all, at the time she wasn't my girlfriend and that wasn't my team. But I mean, I guess?" He shrugged, unable to stop himself from laughing at how ridiculous it all was when put into simple terms. "She was better with them than I was though, but to be honest, she's better at a lot of things."

She raised a knowing eyebrow at him, "You sound obsessed, you realise that?" She smirked, failing to stop herself from teasing him. This Loki was not the same one from all those years ago, not the same unfeeling killer he made himself out to be, and honestly, Gamora was glad.

"I don't blame you though," she said, peaking his attention as he looked up expectantly, "She's pretty."

He raised a brow, not that he was protective or anything but-

"I'm aware," he said, before relaxing considerably, "She is."

After days of being confined to the hospital, her radius of travel being limited only to the other rooms to visit Nat (with assistance, of course), this happened to be the first night she was allowed to return to her own room. They had deemed her recovery strong enough to set her free, but Wanda wasn't feeling as great about it as she originally had.

The witch sentenced herself to bed early that night, so she was not surprised to walk into an empty room. That day had worn her out, and she supposed she had gotten too used to the bed-ridden lifestyle and still had to teach her body to adapt again. It wasn't too great considering the fact that they had a high urgency mission the following day.

With a sigh, she allowed a wave of red to wash over her and change her clothes, deciding she was too tired to do it manually, before all but sinking into her bed. She allowed the events of the day melt away as she was drifted into sleep, a light sigh leaving her lips. But as she heard a chuckle just outside of her door, and familiar voices fading away as they walked away from the door, her mind decided to rebel against her.

She groaned, smashing her face unceremoniously into the pillow. Yeah, it was going to be a rough night.

The witch shot up with a gasp, a hand clutching at her chest desperately. The first thought in her mind was that she couldn't breath. An attempt to suck in air, but breaking out in a cough instead. She barely processed the tears streaming down her cheeks now, as her mind raced with flashbacks of an explosion, of dust clogging her system as she curled up helplessly under a bed.

"Pietro," she squeaked desperately, her mind still swirling with thoughts about him after the nightmare. In the hospital, they were easier to manage due to the medicine being pumped into her allowing her to sleep mostly calmly. But now? They had returned in full force.

Wanda didn't realise the sound of the door swinging open, nor the person kneeling besides her until she felt his knuckles brush up against her cheek. A gentle hand pushed her face to look at him, and she could barely make out his mouth forming words through blurred vision. But she couldn't hear him, why couldn't she hear him?

It sparked up another jolt of panic in her as all her previous traces of jealousy or anger from the night before melted away for a minute as she all but launched herself into his arms, and he accepted her gracefully into them. He murmured sweet nothings into her ear, but she couldn't hear them over her own thoughts.

Stop being selfish, Wanda, the voice whispered in her mind, You're probably doing this for attention. The voice sounded an awful lot like Pietro, but she wasn't rational enough in the moment to decipher that it was just her own spiralling mind imitating him.

I'm not, I swear, she thought, grip tightening on the God who held her just as tight. You're wasting his time, the voice snarled cruelly, Let him go, he clearly doesn't want to be with you right now.

She failed to push away a strangled sob as it escaped her lips, and it made his heart clench painfully as she loosened her grip hesitantly, pulling away from him as she turned her head to the side.

"Wanda," he whispered, afraid that if he spoke to loudly his voice would waver, "Look at me." He pleaded, and she shook her head.

"Go," the redhead croaked out weakly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wast-"

"No," he stated firmly, lifting her chin to look at him again, "No, you didn't, you could never." The God assured her, staring so intensely into her watery eyes, with a look of concern swimming in his own. Loki refused to be soft, it wasn't in his nature, not even for the ones he held dearly to him. But seeing his Witch in this state? It made him careless.

She couldn't stop her own voice as she rambled out to him, "But you were so happy at dinner, and you're mad at me for talking constantly and being too pushy. I'm sorry I promise I didn't mea-"

Loki was positive he felt his heart ache grow as she continued, and he felt complied cut her off, "You aren't, Wans. I'm not mad." He told her quietly, annoyance not aimed at her growing in him as he pulled her against his chest, feeling her wriggle in his grasp before surrendering, relaxing in the comfort of his touch. He'd deny it till the day he died, but the God wished he could take her demons away and take them on himself, anything to banish the watery gaze he was forced to meet as she spoke to him.

"I'm sorry, darling," he murmured into her red locks, "I'm sorry."

Somewhere inside, he knew it wasn't his fault, nor hers, it wasn't anyone's fault. But the thought failed to soothe the growing guilt in him. He hadn't been the main cause of her tears, it was the nightmare, but it still made his insides cringe to know he had any part in this. Any part in the way her body wracked with muffled sobs against his chest, any part in the way she assumed the worst of herself. It made him want to tear apart the world who had treated her like this.

Anger was safe, anger gave him the control he craved.

And for that reason alone, he'd never admit how her tears sparked up a weaker emotion in him.

The next morning had been sentenced with a rocky start, with Wanda attempting to avoid Gamora, and Loki at that matter, at any costs. She hadn't expected to breakdown  last night, and it was certainly an unwelcomed surprise when she did. Weakness was a stranger to both of the sorcerers, and empathy? Even more so. So the last thing Wanda Maximoff expected was to draw the God of Mischief himself into comforting the helpless witch she was.

Despite it, the witch forced herself to shake it off, they had a mission to focus on, and she refused to let herself lapse due to a stupid cause. Nightmares were not uncommon, and they were sure as hell not going to drag her down.

Wanda inhaled sharply, running her fingers through her hair as she attempted to redirect it to her liking. It was too long, she noted mentally, but she couldn't cut it. This was the hair that her mother had braided when she'd awake in tears, the hair her father would ruffle playfully, and watch her pout in disdain, the hair that Pietro would stroke his fingers through to provide her some kind of comfort. So no, she wasn't going to cut it, it would be cutting away a chunk of her past.

With a firm shake of her head, she decided her hair was good enough, no one would be looking at it if the universe was ending anyways. The foul thought crept into her mind unbidden, and she almost reeled back in shock before cursing herself under her breath and leaving the room.

Ignoring the sound of rustling behind her, she made a beeline towards the dining room. She wasn't in the mood to interact with whomever was behind her, but clearly, they had other motives.

"Hey, you're Maximoff, aren't you?" Wanda forced herself not to let her face slip as she recognised the voice calling out to her. Turning swiftly on her heel, she inspected the woman in front of her.

"Yeah, you're Gamora?" The woman nodded in response, catching up to Wanda as the two proceeded to walk together.

"Loki was talking about you," she told the redhead, and Wanda felt herself stiffen slightly. Would he have told her about last night? Did he really think she was weak? She wasn't going to allow this random woman to look at her like a flimsy object which needed protection. She wasn't weak.

"What'd he say?" She asked, trying her best to shield away her emotions from lacing the words. Surprisingly, the woman's lip curled up into a smirk.

"He won't stop talking about how powerful you are, and your perseverance or some sappy shit. And he thinks your pretty-"

Wanda felt herself soften instantly, what was she even doing? She had assumed the worst of him because of her own insecurity. And Gamora, even though Wanda thought highly of her from the start, there was still a sense of undeniable jealousy she associated with her, which seemed to all melt away in that moment. She had no reason to care so much about all this, it must've just been this stupid, stupid situation. It must've been the stress of the mission.

"Maximoff?"

"Wanda," the redhead corrected, shooting a smile to the taller woman, who responded with a hesitant smile of her own. Gamora wasn't one to make friends this easily, and they weren't friends, but she supposed Loki was right about the Avengers' persuasive behaviour.

When they'd entered the dining room, they'd found Bucky, Steve, Natasha and Loki already scattered around the room in seats.

"Yeah, well I wasn't the one who painted your shie- Oh, hey guys," Bucky began, before cutting himself off to greet the woman. Wanda shot him a smile, and Gamora just sort of waved awkwardly.

"Can I get you something to eat?" Natasha asked Gamora politely, who seemed to squint her eyes slightly as she observed the Spy.

"I'm not too familiar with.. earth food," Gamora replied, face stotic.

"That's fine, you can just try a bunch of stuff till you find somethin' you like," Bucky assured her.

Surprisingly, the Witch didn't find herself with much of an appetite, her mind astray as she busied herself with thinking about the mission. It was unusual, rough nights usually drew painful hunger into her, but this one seemed to not.

"I'm actually not that hungry, I might just go wait at the table," Wanda said, her words drawing Loki's attention as he raised a quizzical brow, clearly being familiar with her cycle of nightmares.

"You want tea, at least?" He asked, and the warm liquid she usually loved seemed to make her stomach churn with the thought as she denied his offer, causing another look of concern to deepen in his features as she stalked out of the room after sending him a weak smile.

As she entered the Avengers' designated meeting room, she was met by the sight of Peter talking to Bruce about something, probably science, and Doctor Odd with a book spread in front of him. Peter brightened at the sight of her, sending the older woman a smile.

"Hey, Wans, why are you here so early?"

"Just.. nothing else to do," she brushed off, ignoring the nipping fear clipping at her. She couldn't decipher why she was so worried about this, the avengers had risky missions all the time, why was this any different?

They would be fine. It would be fine.

Because she didn't know what she'd do if it wasn't.

a/n: SORRY IF GAMORA IS OOC LMAO i'll try to bring back an accurate version of her character in the next few chapters. also loki n wanda are gna go back to normal soon
+ loki is in denial about caring lmao emotional constipation

also i was supposed to get into the actual plot this chapter but i didn't whoops, you'll get it in the next chapter tho i promise 🤷‍♀️

anyway love u bye lmfao