The dark, bloodied halls of the Asgardian palace seemed to stretch on for miles, along with the floor that was now littered with dead bodies of loved ones. Loki was dreaming again, this time by choice. He'd had enough, and just flopped onto his bed for sleep, thus allowing his mind to once again travel to the land of nightmares.

But this time he would control it. He had to.

Loki, though still terrified of watching his wife die again, stood in front of the throne room doors, one of his daggers gripped tightly in his hand. After he'd taken a few deep breaths, the god pushed the doors open, deep emerald irises landing on his gagged and blindfolded wife at the throne. Normally, if he advanced towards her, Thanos would kill her, so this time he would try something different. A close friend of Loki's had told him that in dreams, anything is possible if you believe, and that's what Loki tried to do: believe.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pictured Natasha safe, at his side, and Thanos in full view by the throne. And when he opened his eyes, that was what he saw. Natasha was smiling at him in an approving manner, as if she knew what he had done, and Thanos was twirling Loki's scepter in his hand.

"You cannot escape, Loki Laufeyson.. You are under /my/ control, and there you shall remain until you beg for death!"

Loki, stepping in front of Natasha upon instinct, glared at the Titan, tightening his grip on his weapon.

"No.. Not this time, Thanos.. I will be rid of you this day, I swear it."

A deep, disturbing laugh echoed through the throne room after Loki had finished speaking, Thanos' electric blue eyes locked on the god and the mortal.

"That is what you think." Suddenly, the room faded to a complete darkness, seconds later light filling it again. Loki was now standing in what seemed to be a hall of mirrors, but with a highly disturbing twist; each mirror held an imagine of Loki's wife wounded in some way, blood dripping from her wound, and her pleading eyes locked on Loki.

It was bone chilling.

Thanos' blood curdling laugh filled the air again, and the walls started to close in on the mischief god, his only way out to break an image of Natasha and run. That was something Loki was finding it exceedingly difficult to do. All he wanted was to run to each image and heal her, but which one was the right one? Though his mind was exhausted from lack of sleep, Loki knew that one of the images would provide him an escape, and one his death, so he had to choose carefully, and /quickly/.

Each second that passed only brought the walls closer to the god, thereby hindering his judgment.

"Loki," one of the images called, her bloodied hand reaching for Loki's boot. "Help me... Please..."

"No.. Help /me/! I'm your wife.. Save me, Loki…Please…"

Then every image was calling out, reaching for Loki and begging for him to save her. The god clapped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out their pleading voices, but this only made them call louder. He slowly dropped the floor, hands over his ears and eyes still squeezed shut in an attempt to block out the dream world around him.

Images flashed through the god's mind at the speed of light, each image one of either Natasha, or Aleks. Some were of Natasha the day he first saw her on the Helicarrier, some were of her on their wedding day, and some of her at what was probably the last time they were actually happy; Christmas. The ones of Aleks were limited due to fact that Loki's son was only a few months old when he left, but they were still there, and they were driving him mad.

The walls were closing in a at a slow pace and the dying images' voices still echoed in the small space, each one's energy slowly dissipating.

"Loki… I love you too."

The very first time Natasha had ever said that she loved him rang in Loki's ears, causing him to curl into a ball in the middle of the floor. This battle was slowly being won by Thanos; Loki slowly slipping into a state of insanity that would be impossible to come back from.

As Loki lay curled up on the floor, he allowed the voices in his head to mock, taunt, and poke fun at him. These voices had been there much longer than Thanos, and their presence was usually more unwelcomed than this, but there was one, one singular voice, which seemed to stand out above the others.

This one was trying to help.

Minutes passed, the god /still/ unable to move from his position on the floor. But that one helping voice was stronger now, telling him that if he wanted his son, and his wife, to be happy, that he would need to wake up, and get rid of Thanos once and for all.

'Don't you love her? Don't you love them both? Then go. Now.'

Now, people had been telling Loki that in order to see Natasha again, he would have to get better, but for whatever reason, maybe the fact that her dying gasps were heard at the same time, this time, Loki actually listened. He /would/ see them again, and he would see them /soon/.

With whatever energy he had left in the dream, Loki pushed himself off the floor; viridescent hues quickly scanning over each of the images to try and find one that one lead to a safe escape. Loki knew that Thanos was trying to break him. He also knew that the Titan would expect Loki to run for the image that was hurt the worst. With this in mind, Loki inhaled and exhaled slowly a few times, before making his way over to the image of his wife that was barely hurt at all. He pressed his hands to the glass and pushed, but it didn't budge.

"D—nit," he hissed under his breath, this time placing his entire body weight on the glass to push. But even with his Asgardian/Jotun strength, the mirror door would not budge. That was when Loki noticed that the walls were quickly closing in, leaving him very little breathing room, or room to gain leverage to break down the door. He had to think and fast. There had to be a weapon of some sort lying around… anything he could use to break the glass would be helpful.

His dagger.

Loki had put it away before attempting to open the door and easily forgotten it up until this point. Pulling out the silver blade with the gold handle, the god did the only thing he still had room, and leverage, to do; stab the glass. His first few attempts were anything but successful, instead making him almost stab himself. There /had/ to be a weak point /somewhere/ but where?

His emerald hues scanned over the glass again, this time spotting a potentially helpful detail; Natasha's locket. Loki had given her the locket shortly after he and Natasha got together, and she hadn't taken it off since. It had even helped save her life once. Loki hoped it would do the same for him, taking one last calming breath, before driving his dagger directly into the image of where the locket was.

Glass shattered in every direction, some of the shards hitting Loki's hands when he held them up so he wouldn't get hit in the face. Then everything went completely black, the only sound Thanos' angry screaming.

Loki had broken the Titan's dream world, finally freeing himself from its grasp.

But then came the scary part; getting out. Everything was still pitch black around him, no walls or anything around that he could use to feel his way through. It was just…empty.

With an agitated sigh, Loki went to step forwards, but found that there was nothing to step onto. And, before he knew what was happening, he was falling. It was like falling through the Abyss all over again, minus the Bifrost falling with him. He was just…falling. Through the empty space of the dream world Thanos had constructed to hold him prisoner. And after what felt like hours, Loki could've sworn he saw a light.

And he did, because seconds later he was falling towards and through that light. Fearing the absolute worst, Loki had closed his eyes when he started to fall through that light. But when he felt the soft spring of a mattress beneath him, those emerald eyes popped open once again.

Loki was back in his cell on Asgard, staring directly up at the ceiling. He moved to sit up, wincing at a sharp sting on the palms of his hands. He immediately sat up and looked down at his hands, his eyes widening when he saw the cuts the cuts the glass had left.

"…Wh- what…"

Then, a small but friendly voice echoed through the god's mind, only repeating to words over and over again.

'You're free.'

Free. He was free.

"…He… He's gone…" Loki mumbled to himself, a slow smile stretching across his lips as he spoke. He was free and now he could finally go home. The only problem? He was still locked in his cell.

Standing from the bed, Loki, able to use his magic again, conjured an image of Natasha in his hand, staring down it.

"I'll find a way back you, Natasha… I promise."