"If you were here, I might even give you a hug."
But of course he wasn't. He never was, and there was no reason for it to be any different now. Thor flicked the silver object into the air, that small piece of metal he couldn't find any purpose for. With a careless swing, he batted it towards his brother's conjured figure, watching it fly across the room in a twirling arc of starlight, spinning, spinning...
Then it stopped. Fingers wrapped around it, strong fingers, long fingers, and a hint of a smile ghosted Loki's lips.
"I'm here."
And he was.
Muscles tightened. Breath released. Thor took a hesitant step forward. "You're... you're here?"
Loki's fingers curled tighter around the silver object, as though he weren't sure himself. "It would appear so."
"Couldn't find anything better to do, I suppose?"
He smirked, his long-lashed gaze flicking down. "Couldn't find anything else I wanted to do. You can't imagine how irksome that is."
"Oh, believe me, I can."
"I was thinking," Loki began, tapping his fingers slowly against his thigh, "now that the evil side of our family has been properly represented, what with that creature - who's apparently our sister - destroying Asgard and all... I was thinking maybe it's time I retired."
Another step forward, and Thor had almost reached his brother. But Loki didn't back away. He stood his ground, gaze never wavering. Thor cocked his head. "Retire from your tricks?"
"Why on earth would I do that? You need someone to remind you how stupid you are."
"Then what?"
Now it was Loki who cocked his head, regarding his brother with that familiar look of wry cynicism. "Earlier, you told me I could be something more than I am - if I really tried. Was that just another lie?"
"I'm not the one who tells lies," Thor said.
"No. I am."
One more step, and they were together, Thor's hand gripping a leather-clad shoulder. Hesitantly, their gazes met. It had been so long since he'd looked his brother in the eyes - since he'd really looked, with no malice from their past or distrust of their future blinding his sight. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't this. It wasn't this mirror of his own heart, this window into another's grief. Sorrow, and anger, and fear. Determination, desperation, rejection, longing, love, hate.
But the mirror was cracked. And in the warped pattern of the reflection, Thor saw pain.
And something else. Could it be...
Was it perhaps the smallest fragment of hope that flickered in the darkest reaches of Loki's eyes?
Then Thor was upon his brother, arms wrapped around his lean frame, nose pressed into his shoulder. Loki's body went rigid. His hands fumbled awkwardly against Thor's back. They were not siblings of physical affection; they never had been. Yet for all its awkwardness, there was something right about this, something warm and reassuring, and Thor only wished he'd done it sooner. Years sooner.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, wondering why that was the best he could come up with; why he couldn't have fixed everything from the beginning, why he couldn't have made his brother's world a better place, why he couldn't have somehow saved him from the lies. The chill of Loki's slender body crept into him, clammy against his own furnace of flesh, and he could only mutter those same words, over and over again into his brother's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
Slowly, tentatively, Loki's arms closed around his big brother.
"So am I."
And together, the hurt washed away.
"If you tell anyone about this, I'll..." Loki's voice trailed off, muffled in Thor's shoulder.
"You'll what?" Thor prompted. "Stab me?"
"I was considering it."
For the first time in a long while, Thor smiled - a real, honest smile, the kind that glitters in your eyes and wraps around your heart and makes you feel warm all over.
Asgard was gone. The Allfather was gone. The world had fallen apart, and he was king of a nameless band of ragtag survivors. Death and ruin lay behind him. Darkness and fear of the unknown lay ahead.
But Loki was here.
And maybe, just maybe, that could be enough.