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His fall through the Void was, by all means, strangely peaceful.
It was akin to the heady, floaty feeling he experienced on the rare occasions of drink; a weightlessness that was so oddly comforting he could do nothing but indulge in it. Loki knew it would not last, and for all he knew his mind was already beginning to fray at the seams, given the circumstance. He couldn't find it in himself to care much, though.
He tried to ignore his tumultuous thoughts as best he could, but it was a losing battle with quite literally nothing else around him to distract him from them. And so he thought, and thought, and thought - secure in the gross knowledge that his insecurities would soon lose all meaning to himself and those he left behind. It was a fate he did not deserve, for a monster like him. What right did a monster parading under a false mask, tricking those around him into loving him (did they really?) have to just fade into the ether with no justice sought?
It was with this thought that he hit solid ground, and Loki thought, ah yes, how could it be so simple?
He laid there for minutes, hours, days, watching the stars shift their positions above his head, silence ringing in his ears, until a shadow befell him. A creature of large proportions, skin purple and curiousness in his wicked eyes stood above him like an omniscient statue.
"What is your name, lost one?"
What purpose was there to have one? He had no title to him, no friends, no family . An empty husk left to wither and rot at the Norns' expense.
"I am Nothing," he said, gazing into the dark eyes of the creature.
The creature smiled, "Then allow me to make you into Something."
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Sanctuary was a cruel undermining of its name, though no doubt intentional, Loki knew this. Many who were within its walls would be considered to be safe by the creature's own logic - something Loki was sure the Mad Titan truly believed in his delusional mind.
And delusion it was, for his quest seemed nothing but senseless culling truly befitting for the one called The Mad Titan, and Loki relayed as such.
"You will soon come to see the rightness of my choice," he spoke, "And you too will soon embark on this journey of balance, handed down by the Gods themselves."
"You are mad."
"I am just."
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Loki was not sure what was worse - the torture or the silence of his cell.
He had lost count of how many days (weeks, months, years ) he had spent on Sanctuary. He had started out by cutting lines into the tender skin of his arms and thighs to mark the days where his sessions weren't as grueling, and food was given at regular intervals - but soon that stopped as well, and so did his method. The last time he cut he was at sixty-seven.
If anything, it only showed how irritatingly patient the Titan was - for Loki to have held out that long and refuse the Titan's offers for nearing three months told of the unspoken lengths he was willing to go to get what he wanted.
But Loki would not give it to him.
He spent every day after the end of his sessions with the Titan's children holed up in his cell, pleading upwards to the skies on stained lips, begging Heimdall to help him. Surely he could see him - the invisibility cloaking his presence from the Watcher had long since dropped since his stay at Sanctuary. Was he being ignored? Maybe they had truly thought him dead after his fall from the Bifrost - perhaps they weren't even searching for him.
He didn't care anymore if he were to be locked away for the remainder of his days in Asgard's dungeons, at least he would be away from here . The Titan would not have his hands on him, ripping, tearing him apart. He could deal with Thor's scorn, Odin's anger and Mother's silent grief - just take him from here, please Heimdall, please.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"Please, please save me," he whispered, as the Scepter was touched to his head, and he could think no more.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Thanos' task was simple - collect the Tesseract and return it, and to do with the world what he wished.
Loki obeyed.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Barton's mind was a whirlwind of emotions that reminded Loki of the moments on the Bifrost those months ago. Anger, confusion, revulsion - but those thoughts were quickly tamped down by an overlying feeling of loyalty and love.
Loki grabbed the Tesseract and refused to look at him anymore.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Thor's expression contained nothing but poorly-held grief and rage, the face of so many of his nightmares. He could not bear to look at him.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Why else?" Loki sneered, heart thundering, "Why else ?"
"We mourned you - mother, father, I, we mourned for you, brother. Do you not care for the suffering of your family, to grieve over their youngest only to find him trying to subjugate those he considers beneath him?"
"Is it not my right?" he stalked closer, staring at a point beyond Thor's shoulder, "Odin said it best, did he not? We were both made to rule."
"Not like this!" his fist met glass and Loki valiantly resisted the urge to flinch back, "How could you interpret father's words as such?"
"Your father."
"You are still family, Loki. Would you throw away our centuries of love for you, just like that?”
Love. Was it love that caused Loki to be thrown (no, that’s not what happened-) from the Bifrost? Was it love that he felt as he was remade and reborn countless times to serve a greater purpose that he could not possibly hope to live up to, as he cried out ceaselessly for Thor and his supposed family?
“Yes,” his lip curled, “I have felt your love very much, and I do not care for it.”
Thor’s expression fell and whereas he should feel some sort of joy there was only simmering defeat.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Standing atop Stark Tower Loki intrinsically knew he was destined for ruin. It was nothing more than a passing feeling but one he clung onto desperately, for it was the only thing he could trust. He called forth the Chitauri and waited. It did not take long for Thor to find him.
He landed with a thud below him, “Loki!” he bellowed, “Brother, turn off the Tesseract or I will destroy it!”
You can’t, he wanted to say, but knew it would make no difference either way, so he merely leapt at Thor with the Scepter raised.
They clashed violently. The Scepter was not nigh indestructible as Mjolnir, but wielded by Loki it was just about. Thor’s face grew more and more pained the longer they fought, and Loki kept his carefully devoid of emotion lest he lose himself in it.
“Why are you doing this?” Thor cried at one point, nearly knocking the spear from his grasp, “What has turned you so hateful, brother?”
“I am not your brother!” he snapped, swiping a long cut along Thor’s cheek, “I never was! How long will you continue to blind yourself to the truth?”
“As long as I need to,” Thor grabbed his arm, so painfully close and earnest, “I will always call you my brother, Loki. Always.”
His voice failed him. Why ? Why, after all he’d done, Thor knowing just what he was - a monster hiding beneath Aesir skin - did he insist on such sentiment? Loki was nothing to him. His time in Sanctuary had proven that fact well.
Thor’s grip loosened, “Loki?”
“Be quiet,” he shook him off, gripping the Scepter tight enough to make his hand tremble, “I will hear no more of your lies .”
Face hardening, Thor gripped Mjolnir tighter, “I fear you will not see reason with words alone. If action must be done, then so be it.”
Loki grinned but it felt hollow, “Please go ahead and try.”
They began to fight once more, but with desperation as their main cause. Thor, trying to see reason within his brother - Loki, trying to get him away. Away, because he needed to be away from here, from Loki, and down below fighting off the Chitauri like he was meant to. Because as he listened closely enough -
“Guys, we’re taking major fire down here,” Stark’s voice fizzled in, “Thor, where are you? We could use your help taking out some of these…Leviathans, or whatever they’re called.”
Jumping back Thor touched his com piece, “I am attempting to reason with my brother - it will only take a moment.”
“We don’t really have a moment here!”
“Iron Man’s right,” Steve voice joined, “Thor, we need you down here now. ”
“Go ahead, help your previous Avengers, ” Loki snarled, “I tire of this farce.”
“I will not abandon you, Loki,” his heart stuttered in his chest as Thor ripped the communicator out and abandoned it - no, no you fool, go help them, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go-
A swing from Mjolnir that most certainly would have broken his nose; dodging to the side, Loki’s mind was in disarray. Thor would abandon his comrades for what? Sentiment? A false hope that Loki could be redeemed?
“Thor,” he tried once more, “You cannot possibly hope to protect this world if there is nothing left to salvage!”
And Loki could hear it ringing true. A faint crackling caught his ear and his stomach dropped.
“Natasha and Clint are down,” the Captain’s somber voice resounded, “There’s…we have no clue where Banner is. Thor, we need you. It’s only me and Iron Man left.”
For a heart-stopping moment Loki thought he would collapse. No, three of the core team were gone. This couldn’t be happening. What was Thor thinking leaving them down there like that? They were supposed to all work together, they…
Thor continued battering him, either not hearing or just not caring about the Captain’s words - or maybe he did hear, and some prolonged sense of guilt kept him from going down there. Loki didn’t know. He didn’t even care to be on the receiving end of Mjolnir’s weight. Everything had gone so horribly awry in the span of a few minutes. It couldn’t, he couldn’t-
A large explosion caught their attention. Through the roaring Loki caught the final words of the Avengers.
“Steve is down. Thor, where are-”
No, no.
“You idiot,” Loki whispered, rounding on Thor, “ Idiot !”
He shoved him, uncaring of the hysterics present in his voice, “I told you to go down there, why didn’t you listen to me for once in your life?!”
Thor, for his part, looked stricken, no doubt finally realizing the severity of the situation. There was no line of defense for the rest of Earth anymore - that hope had just been squandered in a span of mere minutes.
Loki had won.
The smoldering of ash filled his nose as he looked upon the burning city, the chittering cries of Chitauri plundering and celebrating their new conquer. Loki felt sick.
“Why…”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Thor advancing on him. He turns, Scepter still in hand, preparing to confront him, plead with him - his older brother, please Thor, fix this, fix this , like he’d done so many times before when they were children when they were happy and free and-
Loki does not know how or when he plunges the blade into his chest - but one moment he's staring at Thor's blue eyes (always so so blue ), confusion and anger and pain and still so much hope swirling in them - and the next he is watching dimness take them over as death claims him.
The air seems to still around him as he gazes down at Thor’s lifeless face, the blood matting his once-golden locks and staining them brown. The sound of dying battle fades into the background of his mind as he watches the red drip off of the Scepter blade. It clatters from limp hands.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Was it? He was supposed to stop me. Why didn’t he stop me?
Bile rose to his throat and he retches what little he has in his stomach, shoulders heaving with the force of his sobs. He does not feel real.
What has he done?
Please, please save me.
Thor.
Loki wept.