A/N: Okay so I should be working on one of my many other stories at this moment but I had a sudden thought after seeing the Avengers. This little one shot takes place from Loki's point of view after the end of the big battle. He's been defeated.
My body hurt, it ached, but nothing could stop the relief I felt as I stared up at the sky and watched as that gateway to HELL that I had opened, finally, closed. There was this sort of aching, cold, feeling that had me knowing that I had not succeeded in taking the planet but it was nothing compared to the relief I felt in my heart. I had done what I wanted to accomplish, I had fought a valiant fight and put on the show that needed to be shown, I had helped.
The thoughts were foreign and strange to me, but I had to remember that in this help, even if I had hurt the humans, I was protecting myself. This was the only way that I could finally be safe. This was the only way that I could find myself able to stand on my own two feet and decide that I wanted to walk forward. Of course there was still that chance, that burning fear, that the people who had contracted me to do this would find me on Asgard. I blinked my eyes and stared up at the men who had taken me down and destroyed the beasts that had come through that gate like a swarm of insects.
These people, the men I had fought, they couldn't see it. None of them could see the relief that was held in my eyes and none of them realized what I had done and what I had RISKED. They couldn't tell that if I had wanted them gone it would have just been easier, so much simpler, to kill them all with their backs turned because I was that bad guy and that's what bad guys did. My head was feeling heavy at this point and even though I was a god I knew that the beating the green beast had given me would have me out long enough for the 'Avengers' to take me away. My eyes landed on my brother who had tried to talk sense into me, my brother who had not listened as I spoke, and I could not help but feel like I was hanging by his hand again. I could not help but feel that I had the choice to let go, save him, or bring him down with me.
My eyes grew heavy and my head fell forward. Now seemed like the perfect time to let go again. No one would understand what I had done for them and not a single soul would care that I had tried to save one pathetic world because my brother, the one who had clutched onto me even after having betrayed him, loved it so much. Yes letting go would be easy because this time I would be saving everyone, this time I could be a hero to myself, and hopefully I would be spared what may be my fate.
A/N: I know it is very short but I am contemplating writing a fanfiction based around this. If I get reviews saying yes then YAY and if you all hate it then … boo. And yes I know that this is a little jumbled and jumps around but with Loki as he is, his head is jumbled and he's injured, his thoughts would not form a single line or go in one direction.