Loki remembered the rain.
It was a sign that Thor was there, that he would see his brother come barreling in from somewhere.
Thor never did know how to make a silent entrance, always roaring with the thunder he controlled so well.
It was amusing to him, the days of innocence, when he and Thor would play until dark, Mjolnir hanging on one side of Thor's belt, crackling with electricity, while he would spin magical tricks and illusions. He missed those days, before Odin's, never father's, lies unraveled, and Thor's arrogance and pride got in the way rain and fun. He had always tried to stick by Thor, even when the man's attitude was over confident and rude. However, hatred filled his being when he fell into the void, memories of warmth and love disappearing in an instant. Red eyes filled with tears as he faded in the darkness.
Then, he met the Chitari.
They picked him up from the depths of space, giving him power and torture and pain and strength. They tore him down and built him back up, just to tear him down again.
The made him feel like he was nothing.
Forcefully pushing him to take over Midgard with the staff and Tesseract, riling him up with old wounds and anger. He didn't care about doing at the end, only continuing out of spite and the promises of agony should he fail.
He failed anyway.
There was no redemption or revenge, no satisfaction in what he had done, only bitter emptiness as he was taken back to Asgard to be punished for his crimes. His brother, though he rarely called him that anymore, did nothing to stop his suffering or imprisonment, just like how he was ignored in the days of when they were children. He looked at his blue tinged hands that reminded him of just how different he was in disdain, listening to the crackle of lightning in his small cell, along with the pitter-patter of water hitting the roof, somehow sending out a silent message in his mind.
Worthless Monster.
Loki hated the rain.