IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

Swallowing was difficult, if not impossible. His whole mouth was dry and the bile still threatened, stinging him from the inside out. Perhaps it wasn’t really the bile at all, perhaps it was the fear. Fear was such a foreign concept to Loki. Not that he hadn’t felt it before, but the last time had been when his kids were taken and it had been such a terrible emotion that he had spent several years trying to burn the memory of it from his brain. Now, in this terrifying moment, the fear was a raw and powerful reminder of just how debilitating it could truly be. 

He wanted, more the anything, to curl up into nothingness. He wanted to hold Jesse close to him, tell him it was going to be all right. He wanted to reach his hand right through his phone and wring the woman on the other end’s neck. There were a lot of things he wanted to do, and yet all he could do was stand there, his whole body shaking in terror, listening to Jesse’s screams die out on the other side, the coo in the woman’s voice, struggling to shove aside the terrible images that wormed their way into his head. Images of how Jesse looked right then and there. Images of what they had just done to him, of how beat and bruised and bloodied he was. How fried. They stuck to the walls of his head so even when he closed his eyes they stood, starkly contrasted against the black, only forcing more tears out in their wake.

You can’t beg. She’s trying to find weak points. You have to play her little game if you want to save him.

Keir was already gone, quick as he had arrived. There was determination in his step, then, an indication of him making a move. They’d already summoned the entire council to the house and both Arlo and Siafi had a way with electronics that rivaled many humans’ skills. Perhaps they could track the call. And if they couldn’t, birds were looking everywhere. They would find him. Jesse would be okay.

Steeling himself against the emotion that threatened to choke him up, Loki heaved a shaky inhale and spoke in as tough a voice as he could muster, “Who are you and what do you want?” 

Play the game like you would with Talon. Remain steps ahead, always. It’s the only thing that will save him in the end. Emotion is a vulnerability and they’ll hurt him to hurt you. Don’t let them hurt him anymore.

One blood-red nail tapped against the receiver, a cruel grin pressed to the flat surface of the phone. The laboured breathing of the gunslinger was all that broke the quiet that proceeded Loki’s question as Shanta listened to the impatience, the desperation, smirking at the tremor that wavered Loki’s voice before he could correct it. Humour laced her next words with an unkind laughter presenting it, ‘I suspect you already know the answer to that.’ She spoke, circulating around McCree as she did. ‘With your particular…talents, Loki, you have stirred quite a lot of interest - and your darling here is just a welcome boon. We’ve been tracking him for months—and now we have him, all thanks to you.’
Some scuffling transmitted through the phone, and what rasped murmur that could be faintly heard was shortened with a stifled grunt as long nails glided over the scarring of McCree’s skin to coil around into a constrictive hold around his neck. His eyes widened some, watery with fear, as Jesse glared helplessly up at her frightened at whatever horrors she was contemplating.

The gunslinger squirmed weakly against the pressure building around his windpipe, wincing some at the painful throb in his head in response as he struggled to form the cries of help that screamed in his mind against that choking hold.
‘You, however, have proven to be a bit more difficult to target—not with your servants debilitating our efforts. And to us, you are far more valuable than this old soldier, regardless of his upgrades. So, I have a proposition for you, one you can not afford to refuse.’ She paused for added effect, using the silence to convey just how serious she was as she tightened her hold against the whimpers that escaped McCree’s lips.
‘Ngh–Lo-ki–don’t–!!’
‘Come here as you are, without those pests of yours, and I shall negotiate the terms of Jesse’s release. That is, if you think his life his worth more than your freedom. But I am warning you, Loki. Try anything, and you will never see him again.’ The jarring, cheery humour had left her voice, replaced now by a chilling bite to her threats. ‘Our location for the meeting will be transmitted to your cell if you agree to my terms. You have exactly twelve hours to comply and arrive before we disappear. Our fortifications are impenetrable without coded access. Any resistance from you will be paid in kind on Jesse. He can be dead within a few minutes by a simple flick of a switch. Therefore it is up to you, to keep him alive, so do not try to stage the rescue. I’m sure you’ve already got your birds out looking for your sweetheart. Do I make myself clear?’

IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

At home, where usual comforts seemed to only agitate his nerves further–that’s where Jesse would sit. That’s where he’d lean against the door frame and give me that smile of his–Loki called the gunslinger’s phone. As many times as he needed to, he dialed, listening to it ring and ring and ring. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting. Perhaps for Jesse to answer the phone–”Hey, sugar.”–and give some long-winded explanation about how he’d been robbed but he was just fine, sorry for worrying ya, darl’. Something harmless. These thoughts, an attempts to calm his frantically beating heart, only did a portion of the job. While he struggled to cling to the hope that McCree was okay, another half screamed that nothing was at all fine. 

And the phone rang and rang and rang.

Jesse did not answer. 

No, the voice that greeted him on the other side belonged to a silky-toned woman, one who emphasized Loki’s name to showcase importance. Now, alongside his heart, Loki’s stomach dropped. Fear paled his features, widened his eyes, and for a moment he was too stunned to say a word. There had to be some logical explanation, right? She was a friend. She was a relative. We all know that’s not true, his conscious scolded. We saw his flat broken into.

The yells, that familiar husk, were what brought him back into the present moment. From the background, he could hear Jesse yelling his name, could hear the desperation in his voice. And when the name stopped, he heard screaming. Not the screams for attention, this was pain and fear. 

In that moment, Loki felt bile rise up in his chest, crawling up his throat. The fear spread through his veins mercilessly like a plague, freezing joints, tensing muscles, making every nerve stand up and scream.

“What are you doing to him?! Stop it!” How desperate Loki sounded as he yelled. The pleading, the begging, the tears obscuring his vision. What were they doing to him? Why were they hurting him? What did they want? “Please don’t hurt him!”

In the entrance to the living room, the place Loki had been pacing frantically in for the past hour, appeared Keir. Quick on his feet, drawn by the yelling. He stood there now, eyes wide and mimicking Loki’s terrified expression. Though he remained silent throughout, Loki still turned to look at him as if the answers could be found there. Keir so often provided answers. Could he not help in this case, too? No. He couldn’t.

There was a break between the yelling as Loki shakily inhaled, a half-breath that only partially filled lungs and did nothing to help the desperate state he was in. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, filled with sadness, dismay. The tears that clouded his vision were now freely falling, leaving behind wet trail marks on his cheeks. “What do you want?!”

Was it sweat or tears that now freely streamed down his cheeks? McCree could not be entirely certain, could not even process any comprehensible mental thought when pain was all that he felt. An overwhelming, incredible agony that he screamed in absolute terror against. Never before had he experienced such torment, for not even the agony of losing his arm could compare to this torture. What sobs he would have expressed were swallowed by more screams, body seized within its binds, and twitching uncontrollably against each painful injection of electricity.
Oh, just make it stop. Just let me die, please.

At long last did the shocks dissipate, and McCree slumped against his seat with eyes wide and jaw slack. Drool slid from his mouth to collect at his beard, for he had nought the energy to even close his trembling lips.

‘Oh, he’s resilient.’ Was the words that Shanta spoke in quiet admiration, and she turned to clasp a clawed hand around McCree’s jaw to turn his head towards her. He stared wordlessly back, expression frozen in fear, and breaths coming in erratic, strangled gulps. Her gloved hand provided protection from the electricity still wrecking havoc to the gunslinger’s systems, though Shanta felt the desire to pinch her nose against the smell of burning flesh that hit her nose. ‘You should see the state of him now, Loki,’ she grinned, ‘he looks utterly miserable, how marvellous.’ Pressing her finger to her rosy lips, Shanta placed a kiss there and moved to touch McCree’s parted lips, sighing as she did. ‘I think you and I could have a little chat. I do not think Jesse can give me the answers right at this moment, he seems a little…fried. But do not worry. He is in the very best of hands.’ 

IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

Worry always is a fitful parasite. Clinging to all the unseen places and jumping out when least expected. You think you’ve run from it, managed to drown out its cries with other matters, but then it rears its ugly head again and bites down with a locking jaw. Loki did what he could to busy himself in the time after Jesse’s departure but that agonizing concern still lingered. Was he okay? Would he be okay? He still looked so ill even when he left. 

The thoughts tormented him and not simply over Jesse’s state but also their trip, the fight, Talon, the white van, everything that led up to the cowboy’s severe injury and everything after. It was difficult to focus on monarchy business when the what ifs and countless scenarios played in Loki’s mind like a movie reel with no legitimate ending. Cut those ties, focus, busy yourself with other matters. Easier said than done. He was certain to send constant texts to Jesse over the coming days, but was careful not to send too many in case he seemed overbearing and annoying. His desire to see the gunslinger outweighed any desire he had to do his work and it was often a fight to remain at home and do what he was supposed to do rather than run off to tend to his partner. Don’t fret so much, he’ll be fine. Don’t overthink, there’s nothing afoot here.

How wrong he’d come to be.

It started with a text that went unanswered. Loki was generally an accepting fellow and, in this instance, shrugged it off with the assumption that Jesse was sleeping. Give it some hours, he sent another. No response. The worry scraped at his insides, a demon begging to be let loose. A call, now. It rang and rang and rang until it gave up and went to voicemail. Nothing. No response, no response, no response.

More calls. More texts. The worry was too great to ignore now and Keir could do nothing to calm his King’s aching nerves and the frantic butterflies in his stomach. He felt like he was going to throw up. He didn’t throw up.

“There must be an explanation,” Keir assured, but even he seemed to doubt his own words.

Loki fought with himself over the idea of visiting Jesse’s flat because what if the cowboy was actually fine, what if he’d left his phone somewhere or had it on silent? He’d wind up at his home and look like a bloody fool standing there, heart hammering, mind wandering to all the worst-case scenarios of what had happened to the gunslinger. ’M fine, sugar, no need ta fret.

Fuck it, he said in the end, and went to Jesse’s flat.

Only Jesse wasn’t there. Easy to pass it off as the cowboy being out for the day, except the door was bashed in, splintered remains strewn across the floor. It was kicked from the outside, evident by the way the remaining standing frames were bent inward.

Loki was going to throw up. They’d taken him, hadn’t they? Weakened him and pounced. A calculated and exceptional move, one that made the fire in the King’s veins ignite to alarming degrees. Anger was only one of the emotions he felt in that moment, though. Hopelessness was the biggest. 

He stood inside Jesse’s flat, dejected eyes taking in the surroundings. There were little to no signs of a struggle, which seemed odd. If Jesse was really that sick, though…

He could’ve prevented this. He shouldn’t have let him go. He should’ve checked in more. He should’ve had a raven be more watchful of his place. He should’ve–

Unwanted tears welled up but Loki didn’t wipe them away. From behind him, Keir stood, assessing their surroundings with his own hopeless gaze.

Where did they take him? What were they doing to him?

When Loki turned to lock eyes with his advisor, the tears were threatening to spill but a determined expression had found its way on his face. “We have to send out a party. I want our best birds out looking. Question anyone–everyone, I don’t care. We will find him.”

Keir didn’t argue. There was no sense in arguing when such a serious situation had come up, didn’t matter where their resources should’ve been placed, where important birds should be. This took precedence because it was Jesse and Loki was going to be an inefficient King so long as his beloved remained in a terrorist organization’s grimy hands. 

He should’ve done something. He should’ve visited. 

When Keir ducked out of the flat to make preparations according to his King’s words, Loki picked apart Jesse’s apartment, careful not to upend anything. What he found out in the end was this: Jesse’s phone wasn’t here. Where was it then? Not outside around the perimeter, which he checked very carefully just in case. It had to be with him, right? It was something he latched onto. If they could get an answer maybe Arlo could track the call to the exact location. A far-fetched idea and one Loki didn’t expect to get anything out of, but it was something and god knew he needed something during that moment when all of his hope had fled, leaving behind unshed tears and a broken heart.

So he returned home and he called.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, and each waking moment provided a glimpse into the horrors that awaited him. By now the shock had worn off, replaced now by fear alight in the gunslinger’s eyes despite the calm countenance that he bore. There was no need to provoke these men into giving them what they wanted - to satisfy them with how deathly afraid McCree actually felt.

When next he woke he was no longer in transit, having arrived at his unknown destination sometime during the night. McCree willed himself to suppress his trepidation, to refer back to his old training as an agent and assess the scenario. It was not easy as he was not himself, and concentrating on things for longer than a few minutes was becoming increasingly difficult. Affected by the lights overhead that felt like it was searing right into his retinas, McCree closed his lids and pretended to have fallen back unconscious, though the stammering of his heart pounded fast between his ears.

This was a rogue faction, organised and deadly though not governed by any known terrorist group that McCree could recall. At first he suspected Talon, for the manner of which the men held themselves and the actions they took in escorting him reflected their background of effective military training. It would come as no surprise to he if they had deserted, lead now by an unknown director that McCree was certain he would soon greet. Not knowing who they represented struck him with unease, for there was nothing for which he could comfort himself with, and that was exactly what these men were intending.

Suspecting that the gunslinger was not truly faint, McCree was grabbed by the shoulder and jostled awake before he was levered off from the gurney he had been strapped to and deposited into a chair. He was fastened quickly with fresh binds around his wrists and legs, and to his mild alarm, a band wound around his forehead to keep his head firmly against the back of the chair. It was not entirely uncomfortable, resembling something of a recliner seat, although McCree could not deter the discomfort in seeing a large board connected to his chair by multiple cords. Eyes tightly shut once more, McCree suppressed a sob beneath the tremble of his lips, knowing exactly what was to come.

The room remained deathly quiet for a good quarter of an hour, broken only by the scuffling of feet and low murmuring of those speaking into their receivers. During that time, McCree thought of nothing but Loki: picturing his smile as he greeted him from his office desk, remembering his gentle caress as he parted his hair from his forehead to place a kiss there. And the regret of his past actions, of how he had wounded him so by his deceit. McCree felt a sense of desperation to dial his phone and apologise whilst he still had the chance too, although his phone had been confiscated and was placed upon the bench alongside his crucifix that had been removed from his person whilst unconscious. As if taunting him, the phone suddenly came to life with a shrill ring, and McCree felt himself lurch in his seat although his body made no such motion in its incarcerated state.

As if beckoned by the sound of the call, a woman entered the room, escorted by two other guards that walked in single file beside her. The room was hushed into a ceremonial silence, and McCree at once forgot the noise coming from his mobile to focus his glazed eyes on her. He recognised her instantaneously, even behind the film that blurred his vision, although he could not bring himself to chuckle wryly as he would have done.

‘Comfortable?’ Was her opening statement, addressing him only when she strutted towards the bench with a sharp clap of her heels. She was the epitome of class, and bore a face that McCree had fallen for in years back. Age had treated her well, and she grinned unkindly at his bewilderment as she collected the phone from the bench and slid closer to him. ‘Oh Jesse, you were never one to keep out of trouble.’

A million questions were running through his mind at the sight of her, the largest being just what had happened since the time he had seen her last. He understood that she had been discovered as a double-agent, although as far as he knew, she had been locked up for her crimes. That she was in charge of this group, and seemingly had the best resources at her disposal given the technology, vehicles and artillery McCree had been up against, this wasn’t some small organisation that had risen from the ashes of its predecessors. This did however, confirm his fears: that this was no ordinary kidnapping. That this was something on a more personal level that McCree had previously anticipated. He was uncertain that this woman, Shanta, had had him captured for just information alone. This was payback, and she intended to make him hurt.

‘Seems t’find me, ya know?’ McCree responded, keeping his tone civil, calm and gaze steady on hers. ‘Though if ya wanted to chat, we could ‘ave had one over coffee.’
Shanta’s red lips curled into another unfriendly smile, her hand resting over the vibrating phone. ‘We might have to hold that conversation for just a moment. I have to take a call.’ With a flick of her wrist, she answered the call and placed the device at her ear, voice warm, ‘Hello, Loki.’

At the sound of the name McCree’s eyes widened considerably, and he fought against the restraints with all the strength that he could muster. He was yelling now, calling out the man’s name so loudly that it hurt his own ears. At the commotion, Shanta swivelled on her heel to look at him before her look was directed at the person positioned at the board. ‘Give him 1500. That’ll quieten him a bit.’

And then he screamed.

IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

“Are you… Are you sure you shouldn’t stay, Jesse?” It was a mixture of concern for the cowboy’s well being and also a deepening sense that he himself didn’t exactly want to spend the night alone, away from the other, that spurred this verbalized worry. Spoken after their meal where Loki had merely picked at his food, finding his appetite gone. That knot of worry nestled in his chest had only increased in size as the day wore on. 

Concerned glances had been shot to Jesse whenever they were in a room together and when Loki didn’t think he was paying him much attention. Glances that were careful to inspect his body language, the way he held himself, as if further answers rested there. He knew Jesse well enough to know that despite any physical or even mental pain he might be in, he was very good at putting on a smile and pretending like he was fine. This was only further proven the moment the gunslinger had stepped from the shower in only a towel, acting as if the warm water had completely rejuvenated him, enough to where he believed he could drive himself anywhere.

Loki didn’t believe it for a moment. 

He would regret not fighting Jesse on the matter, but at this particular moment a fight just wasn’t what he wanted. Especially when he was a walking emotional roller coaster right now.

So he’d hesitated before giving a careful nod to the question. The order had been placed and in some 45 minutes or so they were seated in Loki’s living room, food spread out on the coffee table and some HBO film on the television. The King was relatively quiet for most of the meal, barely eating, turning over bits of meat and vegetable with his eating utensil while his gaze took on a faraway look. When he’d spoken his concerns, trying to coerce Jesse to stay without outright asking him to, his stomach was in too many knots to count and his chest had tightened considerably. But when he asked, he didn’t look at Jesse. Instead, he focused his gaze on one corner of coffee table intently. “I think it’d be wiser if you stayed the night and left tomorrow at the earliest. Just… to ensure you get a good night’s rest before you head out.”

The King’s concern saturated the mood in a heaviness that McCree could only describe as apprehension, both for his well-being and for what had happened in the past few days. It was to be expected, for the gunslinger’s own concerns fed upon those worried glances Loki gave when he thought his attention was otherwise preoccupied. Though spoken in a casual fashion, McCree listened to that quiet statement and it repeated in his head like a broken-record, distracting him from his meal and the show flashing too-bright on the flatscreen.

McCree squinted as he pretended to be engrossed in the episode, though his mind was elsewhere, mulling over what was troubling him the most. At Loki’s sudden chatter, McCree reigned in his train of thought and blinked dumbly at his partner, chewing on a piece of chicken. Loki glanced at him only briefly, seemingly uncomfortable at his sickly appearance that surely displayed just how unwell he was feeling. His loss of appetite said as much, although he attempted to eat his meagre portion as a means of appeasing the other.

Discarding what was left of his meal upon the coffee table, McCree lifted his feet off of the floor and scooted close to Loki, seeking that familiar warmth which brought forth a sense of comfort in itself. It helped a little, listening to the thrum of his heartbeat beneath his ear as he rested his head upon his chest and reached for Loki’s hand.

‘Honestly don’t even wanna leave this couch.’ He mumbled with a stifled yawn, his eyes falling closed when his scalp prickled at the sensation of Loki’s hand gliding through his still-damp locks. ‘Lemme nap for a bit an’ then I’ll make the decision, yeah?’

He did not stir even as the episode rolled into the next, nor when strong arms came to support his weight as he was carried to the bedroom.

–

Days past with nil improvement to his health nor his mood. For Loki’s sake, he had not invited him into his flat, excusing himself with a stubborn case of the flu that had left him bedridden. The excuse was not that far from the truth, yet fever gripped his body that left him fidgeting and struggling to rest for more than an hour or two. The nick at his arm that he had not previously noticed had begun to fester - colouring the surrounding skin with ugly shades of yellow and purple and secreting a substance that was not unalike to pus. It should have alarmed him enough to take immediate action and seek help, though McCree felt very unlike himself, becoming incompetent to perform even the most basic actions such as feeding himself or showering. It was if his mind had detached from his body, held prisoner in its deteriorating state, and at each attempt to make a call his limbs remained still at his sides, coated in sweat and unresponsive. 

He was frightened.

–

They came in numbers, two bludgeoning the door to spill another two inside. The four were indistinguishable from each other, for they were all of relatively the same height, and wore matching sets of black fatigues with faceless helmets the popped up one by one around his bed. He did not struggle even when gloved hands gripped his wrists and legs and tied harsh knots around them, though internally, McCree screamed his heart-out, eyes blown-wide in fear that expressed the very real fear that he felt. Each thrash of his body was expressed with minimal movement, each struggle he gave against their touch a simple twitch. He was blinded within moments, done by the shove of a bag over his head and McCree could only lie there, utterly helpless, as his body was lifted from the bed and carried through the destroyed door.

IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

Once Loki guided the car out of the clearing and back onto the road, some relief had crawled back into his veins. Though whether it was because of the battle remains and unpleasant feelings they left behind or because of Jesse’s partially improved mood was hard to say. If anything, it was a combination of them all. 

It was with a begrudging nod that Loki agreed to drive them back to his home. The wise decision was to go back, even if they had only just breached their planned road trip. But it had been a trip Loki had been looking forward to and to have it so abruptly interrupted annoyed him. Not that it was Jesse’s fault, and he certainly didn’t blame the gunslinger. His first road trip and Talon fuckin’ ruined it. Figures, of course. They were a menace in various ways, this being just one of them. 

So after ensuring that McCree was relatively comfortable in the passenger seat, covered with a blanket, the music lowered so as not to disturb, Loki drove. Not recklessly, either, though he certainly went a lot faster than speed limit preferred. Over all, it was a relatively peaceful drive. And apart from the occasional concerned glances he sent to the sleeping cowboy and to the rear view mirror–he half expected Talon to show up again. That white van pressed to the back horizon–he was calm, quiet. Like he had been when he’d stayed up all night, only far less angry now. 

Still, that nagging feeling of something more tugged at him, demanding he pay attention to it.

---

Some hours later, Loki pulled onto the stretch of road that led to his home. What had taken Jesse several hours to drive took the King considerably less, but that speed had certainly helped. The car needed gas pretty badly, but there were some things Loki still didn’t know how to properly operate in this world and given his limited relationship with vehicles it wasn’t much of a shock that filling a car with gas was one of them. And not wanting to wake Jesse for such a trivial matter when he clearly needed the rest, Loki kept driving, hoping they’d make it there without needing to stop on the side of the road. Of course, if need be he would’ve woken McCree to ask for help. 

It wasn’t needed, though. “You were out for a good while,” he thrummed with a faint, tender smile, eyes briefly glancing to Jesse’s tired face. The stretch of road was followed for several moments longer before a turn was taken onto a long dirt driveway that eventually led to Loki’s home. Once parked, the keys were removed from the ignition and held out to the gunslinger. “Your car’s gonna need gas at some point soon,” he murmured. The driver’s side door was pushed open and the King was quick to zip to the other side, offering help to Jesse, if needed, given how he was having troubles standing earlier. No sense in straining those muscles further. “How’re you feeling?”

‘Feels like I’ve been hit by a freight train but I’m thinkin’ that’s just the dehydration.’ Was McCree’s prompt reply, voice still hoarse from sleep. Judging from his lethargy, the gunslinger hardly felt rested at all. In fact, he felt worse in his exhaustion that he had been earlier. Perhaps he had overslept? All that he knew was that he needed a shower, some chowder and a decent night’s rest in whichever order it came.

At Loki’s offer McCree refused, though once on stable feet he leaned in to peck the man on the lips in a chaste kiss and thank him for driving the rest of the way. ‘Ah, it’s aight. I’ll fill ‘er up when I get the chance. You wouldn’t mind if I have a quick shower, would you?’

–

It was difficult to register the lack of a mark across his slide when hours before it had been torn across the expanse of his skin, all blood and gore. The phantom pain seemed to persist however, as if it resided somewhere deep beneath the skin in every fibre and muscle. McCree disliked it, although he attempted to take his mind off of it by focusing on the steam from the shower that slowly enveloped the entirety of the glass. To his own amusement did he draw a smile by the pad of his fingertip, though none quite touched his features as he stared dully at the little face.

A lot still remained on the gunslinger’s troubled mind, though his exhaustion remained heavy on his lids, swallowing what serious thought he would otherwise give on the matter. At one point did McCree’s eyes refocus on the glass, and he realised with a degree of alarm that he was upon the floor in a heap having lost all sense of bearing sometime in his mulling. He blinked up at the steady stream of hot water that bounced off of his pale countenance, and with shaky legs did McCree drag himself back into a stand and throw the shower door open. If Loki had caught him like that…

The thought of wearing his dirtied clothes didn’t appeal to him, so McCree instead emerged from the bathroom with the towel wrapped low around his hips. When he encountered Loki, McCree fashioned a smile and raked his fingers through his damp hair, pulling the loose bangs away from his face. ‘I’m thinkin’ take-out then I’ll head. You ok with Thai?’

IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

He almost had been about to answer Jesse’s first inquiry when he noticed that sudden softening of features and heard his next question. “‘M fine.” Hurriedly, Loki looked away, clearing his throat as if the action would stall the threat of tears. “We should go. You need to sit down and rest and there’s nothing more for us here.” Was there anything there to begin with? Maybe. Hard to say. The scene was gruesome and, frankly, the further Loki got from it, the better. With every little indent a bullet left, with the meager cover granted in such an open area, he felt more of that fear crawling up his throat, threatening to squeeze, making it difficult to breathe. That urge to throw one of the bodies was still strong and yet still he refrained, somehow, someway. 

‘Loki.’ Wait. He left that word unspoken, yet it bore weight in the sturdy grip on the King’s arm, a strength against his fatigue bolstered by empathy. ‘M’sorry darl’, didn’t think that this’d make ya upset.’ It was the truth, and he attempted to give Loki a smile of reassurance with an arm roped around his waist. He was indeed more sensitive than McCree had given him credit for, and in hindsight, the implication of what had happened here was confrontational at best. Last night’s events needn’t further explanation, and it was clear that Loki had seen enough of this by the anger that livened those hard, green eyes.
‘Come on, let’s go.’

–

It was clear by the sag of Loki’s shoulders that he was disappointed by McCree’s suggestion on returning home, though the gunslinger did not feel he had the energy to further press his case. Instead, McCree drifted into a deep sleep as soon as he had settled into the passenger’s seat, unawares of the direction Loki took. He rested well for a solid few hours and only roused when his subconscious sensed a differing surface and a jolt as the car gave a sharp turn.

‘….How long was I out?’ McCree yawned through his hands, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he craned his neck to peer over the dashboard.

IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

The urge to grab one of the bodies Jesse so meticulously inspected and throw it was almost too strong to resist. It was like a volcano, the way the anger boiled up within him, threatening to blow. How easy it’d be to toss the bodies around like nothing. To kick the vehicle they’d left and send it into a rock. He refrained, though, with a considerable amount of willpower. No sense in such actions when the operatives were long dead. Perhaps part of his anger wasn’t merely the setting of the fight–infuriating in itself–but also the fact Jesse had been hurt, combined with the obvious: McCree’s shitty mood. A mood Loki felt as though he could not improve. 

So he stood there silently, eyes watching Jesse. What could he be looking for? What would he find? Hard to say. But after some time, Jesse finally stood, hands on hips, and huffed. Nothing. And yet, when the gunslinger turned to look at him, there was evidence of some softening in his previously hardened features. How badly Loki wanted to yell angrily–not at Jesse, of course–about how, yes, this was pretty bad and what a shitty area to have a fight in and how lucky that damn cowboy was to have lived when he shouldn’t have given the extent of his wound and the blood loss. However, when the King spoke, it was a shaky whisper, “Yeah. It’s pretty bad, Jesse.” Turning his gaze from the gunslinger, Loki took a few steps to the boulder McCree had hidden behind during a portion of the fight, fingers carefully skimming over the chips and dips where bullets had hit or embedded themselves. There was a lump very quickly growing in his throat that no manner of swallowing could rid of, though he did his best to will it away. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” he finally murmured into the air. “They don’t want us dead, so why an attack like that? What was the point in sticking a dagger in such an area if they didn’t want you dead? But if they knew of my abilities, they’d know I’d have healed you in a heartbeat. So then how did they know you’d make it all the way to the hotel despite the blood loss? Somethin’s not right here, Jesse. It doesn’t feel right.” When his gaze returned to McCree, the malachite had a sheen to it, glazed over with unshed tears of a combination of anger and fear. Fear over Jesse’s safety, over Talon’s actions, over everything.

It was clear Loki was on to something, and a degree of seriousness replaced whatever angst had affected McCree’s attitude. He attempted to stand straightly, yet almost immediately did his shoulders hunch, a hand cradling his side still tender even as no mark was visible beneath his clothing. It felt like a deep bruise that even the lightest of touches disturbed, yet it was a vast improvement from what it had been.

‘You thinkin’ it was more than just a freak accident they got me?’ McCree questioned as he walked over to Loki, gaze intent on face, urging him to continue. Yet at a closer distance he noticed the unmistakable mist of Loki’s eyes, and McCree felt himself pause in his interrogation, his features once again softening as he murmured. ‘Loki, ya alright?’

IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

There was no denying the little flip of excitement his stomach did the moment those keys were dropped into his hand, though it didn’t last long. Not with Jesse’s mood the way it was. Why won’t you look at me? he thought, nearly posing the question aloud. Perhaps it was the curtness of the cowboy’s tone or the way in which he hobbled quickly–as he could, that is–to the door that kept Loki quiet. No sense in prodding an angry bear further. “I have cash. I can give them extra to hopefully make up for all this,” he remarked lightly, attempting to counter Jesse’s gruff tone with one a bit more positive in nature. “You get in the car, I’ll handle it.” 

What belongings they’d brought in were hastily shoved into the car and Loki dealt with the checking out process with finesse, overpaying with no fuss–if the employee was suspicious, they didn’t show it, merely trading receipt for money with little more than a half-assed, overtired smile. It was a quick process and Loki was back outside, slipping into the driver’s seat of Jesse’s car not five minutes later. It was… strange to be behind a steering wheel again. Strange and exhilarating. After eat and rear view mirror were adjusted and seat belt was buckled, the Mustang was turned on, engine roaring to life. Loki almost, almost, remarked on the splotches of blood marring the car’s interior but thought that his attempts at a joke would only be met with a glare or, worse, brooding silence. So he remained relatively quiet apart from asking Jesse to direct him to where the fight had happened. 

It may have come as a surprise that Loki actually wan’t terrifying behind the wheel. Of course, it could’ve been due to the circumstances–Jesse’s shitty mood and all–that kept the King in line as he steered them in the direction the gunslinger grunted out to him. Speeding wasn’t an issue and once Loki got used to the sensitivity of the brakes, all was relatively well. 

A tense, silent drive later, they pulled into the area where Jesse’s fight had occurred. Barren land apart from the cacti and smattering of rocks and boulders that could potentially provide meager cover when under fire. There were puddles of blood everywhere, from both Talon operatives and likely Jesse, as well, crimson that marred the tanned surface of the ground. It took all of Loki’s might not to remark on the emptiness of the playing field. An unfair advantage, one Jesse had managed to make it out of. Barely. But rather than say anything, he merely clenched his jaw at the same time his grip on the steering wheel tightened, a reaction that lasted for only a few seconds before the car was put in park and his door opened so he could get out. 

At first, all he did was stand there after tucking the car keys into his pocket, eyes roving over the scene. This was an awfully open area for a fight, something Talon would use for their advantage. But why try and kill Jesse? The dagger to his side had been debilitating and would have killed him had it not been treated. They wanted them both alive, no? No sense in killing them. Then why the dagger? It was likely they knew of Loki’s healing capabilities… The thoughts made his stomach curl uncomfortably, that sense of something more unsettling him. This attack had to have been planned on some level, down to the dagger in side and even Loki’s inevitable healing tricks at the end. So why go through with it? How many operatives had died? And they’d failed to capture Jesse. This just wasn’t right. It reeked of something more and no amount of scene inspection was going to settle the feeling crawling up his throat. 

But still he said nothing. Turning, his eyes fixed to Jesse, watching him carefully. Let him dissect his own crime scene, Loki had seemingly said enough to him for the day.

His revolver lay upon his lap as Loki pulled onto the main road, fingers tapping against the metal with glare levelled outside to the barren landscape—agitated as if expecting a fight once they arrived. None would face them, of course, though it was something to focus on than the flurry of emotions that tormented him from last night. Not to mention this morning, and his appalling behaviour towards Loki that he did not deserve in the slightest.
McCree was about to apologise properly, to lighten the mood with a joke or small talk, yet it didn’t feel appropriate. Not when Loki kept his eyes fixed on the road in concentration and only once or twice allowed a glance to the gunslinger brooding in the passenger’s seat. So they drove in relative silence apart from the shuffling of movement as McCree retrieved a toothpick and gnawed on it with anxious energy. To say that the atmosphere was tense was an understatement.

–

They arrived after a short drive off the road. What greeted them wasn’t pretty, and McCree couldn’t imagine what was running through his counterpart’s head as they surveyed the gruesome scene before them. The gunslinger identified the places where he sought cover - distinguishable by the various markings where bullets were either lodged into the object or shot clean through.

It took some effort to walk around the area although he managed it, bending his knee every so often with hands upon the corpses that littered the area for any sort of identification or clue. None were so easily found and so McCree rose to a stand and inspected the next body and repeated the process again and again, all the while feeling those malachite eyes study him intently as he talked quietly to himself in his inspection.

‘Nothin’.’ McCree spoke through thin lips, and placed his hands upon his hips with a huff. ‘Could check the cars, but I doubt they’ll show up anythin’.’ He turned to face Loki then, some semblance of guilt softening his features. ‘Looks pretty bad don’t it?’

IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

There seemed to be some relief emanating from Loki at Jesse’s words. Like a weight had been lifted and allowed his body to relax. Another kiss was stolen, a little deeper than the last, and when he pulled away a hand combed through Jesse’s thick locks tenderly. 

“Movin’?“ The word had barely fell from his mouth, confusion evident, before Jesse was moving to stand. Loki was quick to steady him the moment he stood on shaking limbs, concern etched into the lines of his face. Leave? While he normally would have agreed given Talon tailing them, McCree was still recovering from a nigh deadly blow to his side. The idea of them going anywhere was outrageous. “You are not driving. Are you kidding me?! You lost a lot of blood yesterday, Jesse, you need to rest.” Whereas earlier his tone had been soft, a whisper, now there was an edge to it. Not anger, merely scolding. 

However, the moment the words left him, a realization flooded him, smoothing those creased features. Jesse couldn’t drive, but there were two of them present. And Keir wasn’t here… 

“I’ll drive.” Driving down a highway stretched within the nothingness on the outer skirts of states was different from driving on a highway in the midst of a city, or on the well paved roads within the suburbs. A two lane highway dotted with the occasional vehicle and semi’s was nothing. That was easy. Move to the left to pass, return to the right, stay around 80 mph. If there was any driving job he was cut out for, apart from in a ring, it was this. “I won’t go over 90 and I promise not to wreck your car. But you cannot drive like this. You’ve barely rested, barely recovered, and your body is in shock.” Never mind everything else he had said. Tracking Jesse? He’d have to ask more when they were in the car, but it could wait. “Please. Let me drive.’

He did not like dependency. Never did, and probably never will. It’s what made his integration into Blackwatch’s cadet rank so difficult, for McCree was never one to follow orders as headstrong, cocky young man. He liked to think himself as mature in many aspects now, although that stubbornness still reared its ugly head at times like these, and it soured his mood with impeding frustration. ‘I don’t much like the idea, Loki.’ McCree complained, weighing the keys his sifted from his pocket in hand and clutching it close to his side. His words held little weight, not when he was being this unreasonable and knowing that his resistance would do little to help either of them.

It was with great reluctance that McCree dropped the keys into Loki’s open palm, unable to meet the man’s gaze once again as he hobbled away from the bed. The room was in a state of utter mess - blood strewn in a sort of semblance of a trail from the entrance, the discarded reddened sheets piled in one corner. McCree felt a pang of guilt leaving the place like this, though there was little that he could do to fix it. His mood had not improved, and he spoke in a curt tone, only glancing to Loki momentarily. ‘We’d best check-out before the cleaners arrive. Don’t wanna havta explain all this.’

IT’S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY’RE REALLY OUT TO GET YOU 

kingoftheravens:

“Oh, Jesse,” he breathed, perching on the bed beside the gunslinger in order to tangle fingers in his thick locks and press forehead to temple. It was quick, his movements, and his touch was tender, careful, as though fearful he could break him. The anger that had pooled inside of him, directed at the other, had momentarily filtered away, replaced by a softness, a sadness, that hurt from previously now intensified. “I understand, I do. I want to protect you more than anything, but look what happens when we do things alone. I get a scimitar in the side, you get a dagger.” His words were a whisper, pressed into hair when he shifted to pepper kisses there. “Together we’re stronger.” 

It was hard for Loki to admit that, in actuality, Jesse’s protection wasn’t needed considering who the King was and the many birds at his disposal. He was capable of throwing a full grown man across the room with ease and Keir was always ready to back him up in a fight if needed. But Loki knew humans and he knew Jesse and such confessions would likely only drive him away, push him further into his shell. Admittedly, the protectiveness was endearing–not many people in Loki’s life had ever cared for him enough to want to shield him from danger–and the fact this cowboy felt compelled to only made the King love him more. So he kept the fact to himself, tucking it away. And after briefly closing his eyes, inhaling Jesse’s scent that clung to his locks, he pulled back just enough to study the cowboy’s guilt-ridden features. With two fingers pressed to jawline, Loki guided his head to face him and leaned forward to kiss him.

The kiss was brief, gentle, but the emotion behind it was intense, the unspoken devotion and adoration Loki felt towards Jesse folded within it. When he pulled away, foreheads pressed together, he smoothed a hand over McCree’s cheek and murmured, “Don’t keep things from me, please.”

‘Yeah, okay.’ McCree gave a hefty sigh, yet the words were spoken out of acceptance than defeat. Each had said their piece, and there was little else McCree could do to rectify the situation. He didn’t deserve Loki’s forgiveness, not when he had scared him half to death and lied without a moment’s consideration on how that would make Loki feel. Yet Loki professed it so openly in his affections, that in that moment, McCree thought he could weep.

Scooting closer McCree leaned into the man’s touch, seeking another kiss and lacing his fingers through unruly black locks to grip the nape of Loki’s neck. He allowed a moment’s quiet to envelope them, nothing heard except steady breaths until McCree broke the silence with some reluctance. ‘We’ve gotta get movin’.’ The thought nagged at him even as his body protested this, still weak from injury. Even when he wished to just sit there and ignore the pressing worry that Talon were regrouping and organising their next plan of attack. It was in their nature to not allow either party to lick their wounds, even after such heavy blow dealt. 

‘Gotta get back to where I faced ‘em. Might give me some answers.’ He was in no shape to drive, yet McCree found he had no alternative. Not if Loki suggested he should drive instead, yet Keir’s strict orders kept the gunslinger from asking. With less difficulty than before, McCree swung his legs to the side and planted his feet upon the carpet, judging his strength with a hand gripped on the bedside table for stability. He rose to a stand, albeit unsteadily and sought Loki’s shoulder to keep him upright, awaiting the vertigo that flooded his head to ease. ‘They had me tagged since Washington. Not surprised that they’re interested in you too.’