Darcy didn’t go back to sleep. She waited until Loki started snoring again before she tried to get back up, but he was quick to roll over and pin her back down. With neither of them wearing pants, she could feel his dick pressed against her thigh, sticky from both of their fluids. She tried to pull away again, but found herself well and truly stuck. Loki pulled her even closer, holding her so tight against his own body she felt like she might suffocate.

"I want to take a bath," she said, trying to loosen his grip.

"No," Loki said, barely awake from the muffled tone of his voice.

"Please," Darcy said.

Loki didn’t answer. He held her down and went back to sleep, as if everything that had just happened was completely normal. Giving up on getting up, Darcy tried to pretend that it was; that none of it had happened at all, but the burning sting between her legs was impossible to ignore. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been torn, and in her mind, the wetness was as much blood as anything else.

And she knew why he wasn’t letting her go. Why he wouldn’t let her take a bath. He had said it out loud, with words from her own mouth. He wanted her pregnant. Darcy didn’t know if he’d said that to frighten her, or if he’d meant it, but the thought that it was even a possibility scared her more than anything else he’d done so far. In everything else, she’d been a passive observer, watching from the sidelines as Loki inflicted his cruelty on others around them. For the first time, she had been the target of the very worst of it. She could still feel him holding her down long after he finished, either making a point or making sure he got the job done. She didn’t know, and she didn’t care. It was all the same in the end, when it came down to it. She was stuck with him, with no way out, and apparently he was done being nice about it.

If everything before had been Loki being nice, she didn’t want to even think about what Loki being mean truly looked like. She had managed to create two versions of him; the one who killed people because it was convenient, and the one who sometimes listened when she asked him to stop. But she knew it didn’t end at being held down and raped. He talked about taking over the world, and getting revenge, and Darcy knew he could do so much worse than what he’d already done.

She lost her control, and silently started crying in the dark. She held her mouth closed, refusing to sob and wail even as her throat hitched and tears fell down her face. No matter what happened, Darcy knew she wasn’t going to be getting out of this in one piece. The best she could hope for was getting out alive. Again, she wondered what would have happened if she’d let him have his way in New Mexico. If he would have continued on his way, or if absolutely nothing would have changed.

Darcy cried until she couldn’t any longer. She tried to convince herself to go to sleep, but she could barely close her eyes. Instead, she stared up at the darkness above, waiting for time to pass. Slowly, the darkness turned just a little blue as night shifted to dawn and the early rays of sunshine began to peek through the window. Darcy had no idea what time it was, and when she looked around the room for a clock, she found none. Every inch of her body hurt, and her chest and throat burned right along with the lower parts of her.

It might not be too late. She didn’t know, but she had to try. Again, she tried to push Loki’s arm off her, and again he only held more tightly. He grumbled beside her, a sign he’d woken as well.

"Can I please go take a bath before we have to leave?" she asked, trying to stay still so he didn’t misinterpret anything.

"No," Loki said.

When he hand started wandering under the shirts she still wore, Darcy held still and let it happen. He dragged his hand over her skin in a way that would have been tender if not for what he’d already done. He traced a line between her boobs, and along the creases beneath them before trailing his hand down further. His flat palm against her stomach made Darcy’s entire body tense up as she tried to ignore it, even as he trailed ever further down toward her hips. She hoped he’d stop there, but he kept going, daring to go even further. He stroked the outer folds of her cunt, making some pleased little noise. Even though he kept his fingers on the outside, Darcy resisted crying all over again.

Then, suddenly, he pulled his hand away and sat up.

"Get dressed," he said.

She knew he was playing with her; still making a point she did not need reiterated. As soon as she was free, Darcy leapt up to find some clean pants from their bag, but all that was left were sweats and pyjamas. She finally took off her ruined panties, using them to dry herself as much as possible before she climbed back into her jeans, making sure she was completely covered before walking over to turn on the light. Loki was still half-naked, fussing around with his own pants. Closing her eyes, Darcy turned away so she didn’t have to look at him. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to keep going. She wondered if she could send him off on his way. If he hated helping her so much, why didn’t he just leave?

Darcy waited until she heard him put on his pants before turning around to start gathering the rest of their things, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the bed. There wasn’t any blood on the sheets, but what had happened was still unmistakable. She didn’t know whose mess it was that she had laid in all night, but the stain on the sheets told a very plain story all the same.

"He’s going to see that," Darcy said, staring blankly at the evidence of what he’d done to her.

"Let him," Loki said.

She wouldn’t cry again. She refused. She forced herself to move forward and start shoving everything into their bag. As she picked her panties back up, Darcy wondered what to do with them, and coming up with no other options she shoved them in with the rest of it.

Every step she took hurt, sending a stinging reminder of the hours before. She was glad there wasn’t a clock in the room, because then she’d know exactly how long he’d been on top of her. She could tell herself that at least it had been quick, even when she knew it hadn’t been. But it was one more lie she could tell herself while she tidied up the evidence of their presence. With everything put back together, Darcy sat at the foot of the bed, far away from their mess, to pull on a clean pair of socks and her shoes.

It hadn’t been like this after he’d fucked her in the car. He’d been almost nice about it. She’d been sore, but not like this. This time, he was making a point, and she’d got it loud and clear. He was in charge now, and if Darcy wanted to survive this, she’d have to let him take control.

She looked up at him as he peered out the window, and hated how much better he’d looked over the night before. During dinner, he looked not only tired, but ill, seeming to barely understand a word spoken to him. For the first time since she’d found him, bleeding and handcuffed on the side of the road, Loki seemed almost healthy. He was properly awake, looking at things rather than toward them. He’d barely slept at all, but for the first time, he actually looked like he had. Darcy didn’t know what he’d taken from her, but he clearly hadn’t been joking when he’d said that sex was part of his recovery last time.

Except it wasn’t sex. It was rape. Not that he apparently knew the difference. Or cared.

"You look like you’re feeling better," Darcy said, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice. "Why don’t you just zap yourself to Torshaow like you did when we left New Mexico?"

Loki made a sound that was almost a laugh and turned away from the window. There was something in his gaze now that felt less like a wounded animal, and more like a dangerous predator, and Darcy regretted saying anything.

"I need to know where I’m going," Loki said. "Without an anchor, I could wind up anywhere."

Darcy knew Portland had been a wild accident, but she’d assumed they’d landed there because Loki was tired. Knowing that they could have landed literally anywhere made her realise how lucky they were. It was another thought she resented.

"So, what? We’re still taking the long way?" she asked.

She hated that she’d said ‘we.’ She wanted to find a way to escape, but she knew Loki wouldn’t let her. She was his, to do with as he pleased, apparently.

"It would seem so," Loki said. He turned to peer out the window again, watching something Darcy couldn’t bother to get up and look at.