Loki doesn't want to be afraid, she's so tired of fear being the main thing in her head but it's hard. She doesn't remember not being afraid, not having to do what she's supposed to or face the consequences. Even here, there a re things they want from her but she just doesn't know hot to give it to them.

"Friend," she echoes. "Right. We're friends." She moves, settling herself against Wanda, her eyes closing tight. Loki reaches out, taking Wanda's hand in hers and holding on, as if somehow that alone would make this better, as if she could find freedom in the grasping.

"She burned," Loki whispers. "There was too much fire, too much heat and she should be dead." Loki shakes her head, pressing herself against Wanda even more. "I'm not real anymore," she tells her. "I'm not supposed to exist, just the things--The things that live inside, information and knowing and the building of the thing."