"I'm sorry," says Thor, and it's true. But somehow, that only makes it worse.

Loki doesn't say anything, so his brother continues. "Loki, I can't do this. Not anymore. This was always going to end. We both knew that. We built this love out of ashes, with the knowledge and understanding one of us would have to leave the other before it kills us."

And it's you who we always knew was going to leave, thinks Loki scornfully, but he knows Thor to be telling the truth, so he doesn't say it. Instead, he looks at his boots and picks his words carefully. "I know, brother. I knew this was going to destroy us."

"And it's going to. So I have to let go. You do understand that, don't you?" Loki nods. "I have to let go before it drowns us both."

Loki expects to feel anger, but there's nothing. He has always known this was coming. Always knew one day, Thor would say words that had no business in such a lovely mouth. Because of this, he is almost relieved. This way, Thor is still breathing. This way, he can have a normal, peaceful life.

Not Loki, though. No, for him, there has only ever been Thor. He has only ever loved him. This is breaking his heart. He looks into his brother's eyes, and they are not shining, full of light, like they used to be. They are dull, tired. The love has faded.

Quietly, Loki says, "We couldn't choose what would stay."

Tears are running down Thor's cheeks. Loki wants to reach out and hold his brother, but the bars separate them. In a way, they always have. Loki was destined for this, this twisted half life that always teetered so desperately on the edge. And Thor – well, Thor was destined to be king.

"That's just it, though," Thor chokes out. "It hasn't faded. Not yet. But it's going to. It's got to."

"You do realise, it won't for me."

"I know that." The tears are blurring Thor's voice. "I am sorry, brother. I am so, so sorry."

"Don't be," Loki tells him. "It was a privilege to love you."

Thor's voice is uncharacteristically uneven. "And you, Loki. I have loved you with a passion I could not explain in words, and it hurts so much to leave you behind."

"Don't be sad," Loki says, as if to an infant. "Forget me."

"How can I? Loki, I love you."

"And I you, brother," Loki answers. "That will not go. But I have no future. You do. And a very important one, at that. You must make the most of it; you must let me go. You'll love again, brother, and remember me simply with the fondness of an old heartache."

"So would you, if you had the chance," whispers Thor.

The ghost of a smile settles on Loki's face. "I doubt it."

He kisses Thor, a gentle goodbye, the tears running down both their cheeks, and then green eyes meet blue for the last time.

Thor leaves.

There's a space on his bed now. A hole in his heart. There are no words for the pain. Thor was his beginning, his middle and end. Thor was his life. He will only be the beginning, for his brother. Loki tells himself that's alright, that's the way it should be, and he sobs raggedly into the night as he lies to himself.

At dawn, when they come for him, he closes his eyes and thinks of Thor – happy sad lonely lovely broken hearted Thor – and he remembers those blue eyes like they used to be, hitting his own and full of the only love he had ever know.

I'm sorry, Loki thinks, and it's true.