Bartleby felt it as Loki's wings dropped away. The connection, their connection, born of thousands of years of ragged pain and craving for divinity, gone. Loki, gone. No more. Just this human, this sad, pathetic little human with quavering blue eyes looking up at him. Bartleby was dizzy. No Loki, not at all. What to do with no Loki? What to do?

"Fuck, that hurts! Fuck!" Human hunched over, grasping at his shoulders and their blood. Bartleby took a step back. Humans, all humans, worthless grasping and selfish, no matter what they had once been.

"Jesus . . . Bartleby . . ." Notloki gasping for breath, straightening up, looking at him, and Bartleby felt sick. This human, not Loki, had no right to have Loki's face, no right.

"Bartleby? You okay, man? Look, it's not really that bad, I was just tryin' to psyche you out, don't gotta go all pale like that . . ." Shaky lying smile.

Bartleby turned away. Not nice to turn his back on Loki, but this wasn't really Loki anymore. Looked like him, sounded like him, talked and thought like him, was him, but not, not at all.

"Bartleby?"

Bartleby flew up. Sick. His one, turned into one of them. Sooner this was over, the better. Better for Loki. Better to not be trapped in human form, to not be.

~~~~

"It's okay. It's okay. Shh." Poor Loki, poor human Loki. Bartleby patted his arm, pleased when he didn't flinch at the feel of human flesh under his hand.

Could hear himself talking, didn't know what it was about. Loki, human, weakened . . . weak. Sad.

Knife in his hand.

So easy. Save Loki, let him out of this human body. Not really Loki, anyway, all humans died, and Loki was never supposed to die.

He hurt.

Stab.

Loki tense with shock. Staring at him with blue eyes. Then not staring anymore.

Bartleby let the useless human body, the mockery of his loved Loki, fall. Loki was safe from it now. Safe.