Denial
He can't think. He can't breathe. Even his own loud, desperate scream is deafened in his ears by the shock.
And as Loki's body crumples to the ground and Malekith withdraws, everything moves by in cold, nightmarish vapors. The ones that snake around his heart chill it to ice.
This cannot be happening.
The words course through his spirit as he pulls his brother's broken, trembling body into his arms. They both fight for breath; one, so he can live and the other, so he can hold himself together.
This cannot be happening.
He tells himself this as he looks longingly into his brother's emerald eyes. Watches as his porcelain skin turn to grey. Holds him as he heaves shallow, ragged breaths.
This cannot be happening.
The soft wind silently howls these words as it tosses a piece of raven hair across his brother's face. Surrounds him and chills him to the bone. Freezes the tears that threaten to pour from his eyes before they even fall.
This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. It cannot be…
A shaking, icy hand searches out his own and weakly clasps it. He sees the pain behind his brother's eyes as tears begin to drip from his own. He's vaguely aware of a conversation, but is too shaken to hear even his own words.
"You fool!" he howls. "You didn't listen!"
"I know," Loki forces the words from violently trembling lips. "I-I'm a fool… I—"
This cannot be happening.
As much as he denies it, and as much as he yearns to believe it, it is.
His brother is dying.
And he can't save him.
A soft, desperate plea silently escapes his lips, begging his brother to hang on. But even as the imploring words hang in the air, he can see that Loki is beginning to fade away.
No, he tells himself again. This cannot be happening. It isn't…
Oh, but it is. The gaping hole in his brother's gut and the jagged, blood-stained blade that rests by his side are brutal reminders of that.
"I will tell Father of what you did today."
A tear slides down a haggard, ashen face. One last, shallow breath. And a whisper that is so soft it nearly sounds as if it came from the wind.
"I didn't do it… for him…"
He just saved my life.
Or did he?
He doesn't know. And at this point, he doesn't care. Because his brother's body has gone limp in his arms.
Tears nearly blind him. He is sure his cry of despair was heard for miles.
Because no matter how hard Thor tries to convince himself that it hadn't happened, that Loki hadn't just died in his arms, there is no denying that his brother is gone.