"I'm sorry"

 Red.

That was all he could remember.

So much red, sordid and staining everything, drenching. And white. She was so white, all color drained from that soft face. 

He had done this.

No cry, no tears, no scream. Nothing, save numb surprise. And she looked at him, as if he could save her, as if she trusted, so completely, that he would.

Every noise, every sound mixed and shredded together in his mind, chaotic and chocking. He did'nt seem to know it was his own voice that screamed her name, shrieked in utter anguished pain upon the dead air, as she fell to the ground. Fear, perhaps anger, chained his feet in place, all but a moment, And then he was running, grasping at gravel and soot that made up the earthen place they were upon, hurling up to his feet hardly before he'd began.

His brother, was behind him. Yes, his brother. And he'd fallen upon the monster before he could even think it.

All that meant, would mean, anything to him, was perishing.

And he had done this.

No.

The word did not seem to reach the air, but it raved in his mind, as he half fell himself, beside the slight little form, already shaking in pain.

"Loki..."

It stilled him. And eyes, such eyes, took him and she smiled. She smiled at the one who had done this, who had allowed this to happen.

"Loki, don't." Her trembling fingers grasped at air until they found him, and he took her up into his arms and chest before she could speak again. He stumbled to the ground, hunched and begging with silent lips over her in a prayer... as if he would be heard.

"Don't."

She was pushing him away. No, she held him, fiercely, commanding his attention, her knuckles white as she clung to leather and green.

"Don't think that."

The voice rasped, and she drew breath, chest hardly falling or rising with it, it was so very shallow. Anger, not the kind he has seen in her before, was causing her whole form to shake, to shudder. Until, hands came up. They shook, hardly strong enough, and the softness of her fingers brushed his cheek, to make him look at her.

"Don't..." she sighed.

She was trying to conceal it from him. So brave and so sweet, and she ... she was dying. Dying in her murderers, her slayer's arms.

He had done this.

"I-..." Her form wrenched in pain and tears wet her eyes that never had left him, "I am sorry..."

The words seemed like broken things to his ears. How could she be sorry when she had only done him good and right and lovely from the moment he loved her. And, yes, he loved her still. How not to love her plagued his very soul for so long, he'd forgotten.

"No."

He heard it this time.

"No, Loki," she repeated, becoming quiet, suddenly. And she smiled again, "No."

Cold, much like the black, crumbling world about them, had taken her. And when he finally touched the hand, she winced in pain, but she wanted him. She wished him to love her still, after the lies, the hate, the monstrous pains and cruelties...

"Let go," soft and pleaded.

His eyes closed, hard, and clung to her.

"Let me go."

No.

"Loki."

And when he raised his eyes, she was there, soft and quiet in his arms, mouth gentle with a smile. A near ghosted breath, her fingers tightened.

"Let go..."

And she sighed.

"Forgive me."

All too late, but she heard it, the words, warmer and realer then life itself.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

WHELp.

This freakin' hurt my soul.

*falls of bridge*