"I had a dream," Loki said. It was the first time he'd spoken to Thor that day, even though they had woken up several hours prior. Still en route to Midgard, they had both found plenty of ways to keep themselves busy. Thor and Loki had both taken it upon themselves to perform various tasks about the ship, and Loki had seemed genuinely pleased to have a persistent distraction. In the wake of the loss they had suffered, a distraction was exactly what they needed. And they had both learned from experience that they got along best when they had things to do. Neither of them had the energy to fight, anyway. Their bodies were still battle weary and recovering from what had taken place, just days earlier.

"When?" Thor asked. He gazed through the great pane of glass that separated them from the vastness of space. Outside, the pitch-black expanse was peppered with countless, tiny stars. They were still a long way from Earth.

"Last night," Loki replied. "Or early this morning, rather."

"Oh yeah? What about?" Thor's interest was only piqued because Loki had so rarely confided in him about such things. Dreams had always been their mother's territory. As a child, Loki would often dream things that later came true. Their mother had treated it as thought it were a gift of some sort, but Loki had never seen it as such. Likewise -Thor had never understood how his brother having his slumber invaded by images of death and destruction, could possibly be viewed as a gift. When Loki would awake, in distress, their mother would come to him. She would offer comfort, of course, but she was also eager for details of what he had foreseen. And Loki would tell her as much as he could remember, not because he wanted to speak of it -which it was evident to Thor that he did not- but because it seemed to please her when he did so. And he had so much wanted to please her. Thor recalled how, after their mother would leave, Loki would climb silently into his bed. He would lie perfectly still, shoulder to shoulder with his brother, as though the mere proximity to another person were enough to protect him from whatever dangers might await. Never once had Loki offered to share the details of his nightmares, and Thor had never asked.

"I dreamed we were all together."

Thor suspected who Loki might mean be referring to, but he still felt the need to clarify. "Who?"

"You…me, Mother and Father."

Thor studied Loki's face, the way his eyes were shining. His lips were pursed as he contended with a depth of emotion that he was still -despite his multitude of years- so ill equipped to fully express. So often had those same lips spun webs of lies and deceit, and spouted words of bitterness and rage. Thor had known him long enough. Those few instances when Loki was truly and completely honest were unmistakable -something bright that was set apart from everything else. The sound of his voice was so even, so soft. He was so much like a child, just trying to make sense of the world around him. Thor knew the moment would pass. He held onto it for as long as he could, savored it even.

"That sounds nice," he finally replied.

"The thing is…it seemed so real. When I woke up, it was like…" Loki trailed off, deliberately, maybe waiting to see whether other man could finish his thought. How well do you know me, Brother?

"You were disappointed," Thor guessed. Much better than you think.

Loki issued a curt nod, appearing mildly relieved at having been spared the task of saying it himself.

"They loved you, Loki," Thor returned, "both of them." As he spoke, he examined his brother's reaction closely, wanting to enjoy the full impact of his words. He felt a brief pang of guilt when he realized that he had chosen them specifically to evoke an emotional response.

Loki turned away -which was precisely what Thor had expected. It wasn't embarrassment, though. It was something else -avoidance perhaps. Maybe he couldn't acknowledge what he'd heard, or he just didn't want to think about it. Loki began picking at his fingers -a lifelong, nervous habit that tended to surface in times of high stress. Props made a lovely distraction, but their presence couldn't always be depended upon. When there were no objects in his space to toy with, Loki had always seemed uncertain of what to do with his hands.

"And you loved them," Thor added -because he wasn't quite finished. He thought perhaps he'd detected a chink in the armor. He had to seize the opportunity -break through that protective, outer layer, and make his way to that vulnerable core, where he knew his brother truly lived.

Loki looked up, then. He laced his fingers together, palms stretched wide. "Did I?"

"I believe you did."

Loki cleared his throat. His voice seemed slightly higher, a little less carefully controlled. He unlaced his fingers and balled his fists, tightly.

"If I did…it's like saying what they did was okay."

"What they did," Thor repeated, tilting his head thoughtfully. He briefly considered the context of that statement. "You mean adopting you."

Loki just stared back at him, issuing no confirmation or denial. Again he appeared to be waiting for his brother to piece it together.

"Oh, Loki…why do you assume our parents were ever better people than we?"

Loki scoffed, his voice returning to its normal, measured tone.

"Are you saying the All Father was flawed? Good thing he's not alive to hear it."

Loki had successfully derailed untold numbers of arguments with sarcasm. It was his first line of defense in almost all verbal confrontations. Thor couldn't help wondering where that had ever gotten either of them. Do the opposite of what he expects, Thor thought. Maybe if I change, then he'll have to change too.

"I'm saying, we've all made mistakes, Father especially. Recent events are evidence enough of that. I think he knew it, too. I think that's why he chose not to come home, even after your spell had been broken. I don't think he wanted to face it. I think he was prepared to die on Earth. I don't think he ever expected to see either of us again."

"You think that he should have left me to die," was the chilling response. It wasn't quite an accusation. It was more like a challenge -Tell me that I am not one of Father's mistakes. Or rather, the more deeply implied -tell me that 'we' includes me.

Thor shook his head.

"Oh, no…Loki, that is not what I meant at all."

"Then what did you mean?"

"You asked them why they did it, took you in and raised you as their own, never told you of your true heritage…but what answer were you hoping for?"

"I don't know," Loki admitted. He began picking at his fingers again, as though he were attempting to dislodge some imaginary sliver that was buried deep within. A metaphor for his pain, perhaps.

"Was there an explanation that would have satisfied you? Was there something they could have said to soften the blow of your discovery? Is there any way you could have found out, that wouldn't have hurt?"

"They could have told me from the start."

"They could have," Thor agreed. "Maybe they even should have…but they didn't. They made a choice. It was their choice to make, and maybe it was the wrong one…but you can't go back."

"No, I can't…but they're gone and I'm still here. I'm the one facing the consequences for their actions."

"Consequences? Was it really all bad, Brother? When I think of our time together, I do so fondly. I don't regret anything. I don't regret your being a part of my life." 'We' just means you and me now. Don't you realize that?

"Is that so?" Loki asked, incredulously. "Was that not you, testifying of my nefariousness to your friends on Sakaar?"

Thor felt the urge to smile, but he suppressed it. Because he knew that Loki would think that he was laughing at him, and that was the last thing that he wanted.

"Are you referring to the snake story? You really think that's the worst thing you've ever done to me? You really think I've never done anything worse to you?"

"Not to hear you tell it." That old, familiar bitterness began to leak out. Thor recognized it well. That was Loki's second line of defense -Woe is me.

"Would that make it better, Loki? Would you like me to arrange a formal, public announcement? Would it help you if I confessed my every wrongdoing?"

"I don't think it would matter. I don't think it would change anything."

Thor felt like he was so close to the truth, but he was afraid to push any harder. He'd already put Loki on edge by altering the pattern of their exchange. He wasn't sure how much further he could take things, before they would collapse. And they were trapped on the ship, together, for a while at least. If by some chance they got on each other's nerves, neither of them would have anywhere to hide. Potentially -it could be quite disastrous.

"What would you want it to change?" Thor asked. "What would you change if you could?"

Loki's expression immediately transformed into one of indignation.

"I shouldn't have shared this with you," he spat. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

Thor had clearly struck a nerve, although he wasn't entirely certain how or why. Loki spun on his heels, rather theatrically, and headed for the door. He was in no hurry, though. He was taking his time. Make me stay.

"I'm not sorry, Loki," Thor added, quickly. "I want to hear these things. I want to understand."

"Sure...now, you do," Loki snarled. He stopped, inches from the door. He leaned against the frame, his shoulders slightly slouched. His posture implied ambivalence, but it was obvious that he was not quite ready for the conversation to end.

Thor approached him, gingerly. Loki stood up a little straighter, but he didn't move from where he was standing.

"Yes, now I do," Thor replied. He hoped that shouldering some of the blame for their long history of miscommunication would put Loki at ease. "I haven't always been a good listener. I know that…but I want to be."

"Just like that...just like that, you get to be someone else." If you're not you anymore, then who does that make me?

"I have a choice in who I decide to be, Loki, just like you do. I choose to be something more."

"Maybe it's not that easy," Loki snapped, clearly still on the defensive.

Thor was careful not to raise his voice. He wanted to sound relaxed and at ease, even though he was anything but. He could feel himself becoming increasingly annoyed. It was a lot of work, he realized, breaking away from what came most naturally. It made plenty of sense why neither of them had ever bothered with it before.

"I never said it was easy."

"Yeah...you just make it look easy," Loki retorted. Just like you make everything look easy.

"I wanted to blame you for Father's death," Thor confessed, "for everything that happened...but I don't think it's your fault, not really. I think what happened would have happened, with or without your help. Maybe sooner, maybe later. It doesn't matter."

Loki was staring back at him, eyes wide. If Thor didn't know any better, he would have thought the other man had actually gotten paler.

"That's what he said to me," Loki replied, softly.

"Who?"

Loki didn't respond to the question right away. Thor stood still, watching him, waiting. He wasn't going to prod further, but he wasn't going to let his brother off the hook either. Come on...you have to try. You have to meet me halfway.

Nearly a minute had passed, when Loki finally broke the silence.

"It was Father...in my dream. That's what he said."

Thor shook his head, still not understanding. "What did he say?"

"He said that it wasn't my fault."

Thor pondered that a moment. Just before his death, Odin had expressed love for his sons. That had come as a bit of a shock, more to Loki than Thor, probably. Other than that, Odin's parting words had been somewhat ambiguous. A great many things had been left unresolved, between Loki and their father. It stood to reason that Loki might be longing -albeit subconsciously- for some kind of closure. That desire could certainly be strong enough to have resulted in a wish fulfilling dream. Of course, given the breadth of Loki's supernatural gifts, it was also just as likely that Odin himself had found a way to speak to transcend death and communicate with his son from the great beyond. Despite all of his acquired wisdom, Thor was still humble enough to know that he was not qualified to determine which of those things was at play here.

"And what did you say?" Thor asked.

"I said..." Loki paused again. It was evident, by the way he was inhaling deeply through his nostrils, that he was struggling to complete the statement.

"...I said that I was sorry," he whispered, finally. His mouth was contorted with emotion, but stubbornly refused to let it overtake him. He succeeded in composing himself, for the most part, although he still appeared positively ill.

Thor took another two steps towards the other man, turning his body so that they weren't looking at one another. Instead, they were standing side by side, their shoulders just barely touching. He saw his brother's eyes fall closed. He wanted -desperately- to ask Loki what exactly it was that he was sorry for, but he knew that his chances of getting a straight answer were rather slim.

"There are so many things I want to tell you," Loki admitted, his tone hushed.

"Then tell me," Thor urged, hopefully.

"It's not that simple."

"It is if you want it to be."

"It doesn't matter what I want."

"You have to do better than that, Brother."

"I have to do better," Loki repeated. His volume begin to increase again. He moved away from the doorway and back into the center of the room. "Why is it always me who has to do better?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm dark inside, Thor...in a way that you could never hope to conceive of. If you could...you wouldn't let me take another breath, let alone claim me as your kin."

Loki had always been somewhat hyperbolic. He had certainly been born with a flair for the dramatic. Unfortunately, that made it all the more difficult to tell when he was being serious. Given the nature of recent events, Thor decided to humor his brother, for the time being.

"Could Father see that darkness?"

"Obviously," Loki countered, "he had enough sense to lock me in a cage."

"For your crimes...not for who you are."

"My crimes are who I am," Loki snapped.

"Do you really believe that?" Thor asked. "Is that what you really think? Did Father not forgive you your transgressions?"

Loki tossed his hand, dismissively.

"It was just a dream. It didn't mean anything."

"If that were true," Thor pointed out, "we would not be having this conversation."

"There are things that are going to happen," Loki said, folding his arms across his chest. His fingers dug into the material that covered his outer biceps. It was almost as though he were attempting to hold himself together.

"What things?"

"Things that are my fault, things that will change everything."

"You could be a little more specific."

Loki didn't answer. He just looked at the floor. Thor could no longer ignore the frustration that had been slowly growing inside him. He was trying to be patient, but it felt like the other man was being intentionally cryptic. They were talking in circles and not getting anywhere. Loki clearly had something that he wanted to share, and yet it seemed that he was either unwilling or unable to share it. It was maddening.

"Damn it, Loki...if there's something I need to know, just tell me what it is. I've grown weary of your games." The words came out far more harshly than he'd intended and Loki took another step away from him.

Thor took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He wanted answers, and he knew that he wasn't going to get them by force. Loki had never responded well to interrogation of any sort, however well meaning. Whatever information he chose to divulge would ultimately have to be given by choice.

Thor calmly repeated his earlier query, since it had never actually been answered. He hoped that it would be more well received than before.

"What would you change, if you could?"

This time, Loki only shrugged.

"Fantasy is a pointless exercise," was the reply. "You said it yourself...I can't go back."

"So you'd change the past," Thor concluded.

"That is not what I said."

"No, but you implied it. Is there something you'd do differently?"

Loki eyebrows twitched, ever so slightly. His expression looked pained. He unfolded his arms and began examining his fingernails.

"A lot of things, I imagine."

"Specifically?" Thor prodded.

"I used to think I could trace it all back to one moment...that there was an exact point in time where things went wrong. Now...I don't know. Maybe I was doomed from the start."

"Enough with the self pity, Loki. It doesn't become you. You weren't doomed from the start. You were a child once, just like me."

"Not really like you, though, if we're being completely honest with ourselves."

"Yes, like me. You made different choices, took different paths...but that's the past. This is the present. We have a choice in who we become..."

"It's too late for me, Brother."

"It's not too late."

Loki gazed out of the window, contemplating the infinite blackness. It was as though he could see something there that Thor could not.

"You really have no idea," he said.

"Then tell me."

"You don't know how badly I want to stay here, right here in this moment. I want it more than you do. My home is gone…Asgard is gone. My father..." Loki paused, and laughed at his own hypocrisy. Yes, somehow, no matter what happens, he's always going to be my father. "My father is dead," he continued, "and yet…everything is somehow better than it's been in a long time. This..." Loki gestured to the space between them. "You and me...this is as good as it's ever been. It's as good as it's going to get..."

"That doesn't have to change."

"But it will," Loki insisted.

"What of your dream?" Thor asked.

"It was just a dream."

"You don't really believe that."

"Just promise me something."

Thor was so bewildered by his brother's uncharacteristic request, that he was momentarily caught off guard.

"Thor," Loki prompted.

Mere seconds had passed, but Thor thought for sure that he'd missed something in the conversation. At the very least, he was certain that he had already answered the other man, but apparently he had only done so in his head.

"Uh...yes?"

"Promise me something." Loki repeated.

"What?"

"How you feel, right now, about everything that's happened...about me, about us...you have to promise me that you will hold on to that. Do you understand? Sometime...sometime, in the very near future, you're going to need it."

There was something dark and foreboding about what the other man was asking of him. It filled Thor with dread. "You're scared," he said. "What could you possibly be so scared of?"

"Just promise." Loki looked out the window again, like he was waiting for something to happen. Thor had no idea what that something could be. He couldn't get over how desperate Loki seemed, how his eyes were pleading for affirmation. Loki never used that word, promise, not ever. He didn't believe in promises. They were just words, and words were meaningless. Anyone could say anything they wanted.

"Fine," Thor agreed. "I promise."