DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything except the plot and Thana. Please review, I need the critics to do their job.

Chp. One

He was always so alone. Nobody cared for him truly. His brother, "brother", cared for him, sure. But, he was always so caring. He would love everyone if he could. His brother was like a puppy: warm, inviting, and friendly. He was the complete opposite, more like a cat: cold, aloof, sarcastic, and aggressive.

That wasn't his fault, though; it was just how he was raised. His brother was the golden boy who did everything perfectly. He was the boy who couldn't fight physically, but with words and was the most cunning and intelligent kid in class. His brother was always so perfect in his parents', "parents", views. He just… wasn't. He tried. He tried his hardest to do what his brother did so easily. All he wanted was to be seen as who he was and not be compared to his brother. He developed his silver tongue to cause mischief, along with his pranks. This was to get attention from his family, to get the spotlight off of his brother and onto him, just this once. That was all he wanted.

But no. His family didn't pay attention to him, listen to him, take him seriously, or even include him with things they did together, like walks, visiting family, or going to other realms. All his family never gave him to be happy was all that he wanted. That was it. He wanted somebody to pay attention to him. He wanted somebody to listen to him. He wanted somebody to take him seriously. He wanted somebody to include him with whatever they were doing. That was it. That was all that would make him happy. But he never got his wish, no matter how simple it was to give.

He never got the love he wanted.

Wanted love, he did. It was never given.

That was all he wanted.

He wanted that.

So in his desperation, he escaped his prison and tried to take over Midgard. He just wanted attention. His behavior wasn't just an act; he was who he was and he wanted somebody to love that part of him. He was desperate. That was it. He wanted them to tell him that they loved him. That was what they wouldn't tell him even if their lives depended on it because they had molded him into this twisted and stone-cold mold and yet, they didn't love their creation.

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When they put him away, they decided to see if a Midgardian could help him. They took him out of his prison. They brought him to Midgard. They sent Thor to deliver Loki to SHIELD. He was put into the hands of the Avengers who hated him. But he was bound, gagged, restrained. He was depressed. He was upset and it showed. He wasn't fighting back like he would with a snarky reply or a kick to the shin. He looked haggard, tired, worn. His body sagged wherever he was sitting, his eyes glazed and hazy. He was thin and limp. He never spoke the entire time he was there. Eventually they just took everything off of him: cuffs, muzzle, and anklet to keep him in the building. He still didn't do much of anything. They needed to help him.

Loki was supposed to be getting better after adjusting a little bit to life with the Avengers. That didn't happen. If anything, he had gotten worse. His bright greenish-blue eyes had faded, adapting a gray tint to their depths. He always radiated sadness and depressing emotions, making the others pity him. He also seemed to have lost the will he had to live; his immortality was the only thing that was keeping him from dying in his sleep. He probably didn't want to be there, in this world, in any world. You could just feel that he didn't want to live anymore. Yet nobody knew why.

Would he want to die because he couldn't take over the world? Would he want to die because he lived with the Avengers? Would he kill himself if need be so? What made him the person he is? What made him be mean, cold, and snarky before he became melancholy? What brought this on? Is there something wrong with him? Could they even do something to help?

Questions like those bounced around in the Avengers' minds, making them pity the trickster. They did the only thing that they felt that they could at this point; they decided to call Thor.

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He came one evening later that week, as the Avengers didn't tell him about the current condition of his adopted brother as of now. He was delayed. He actually came to Earth earlier in the day but decided to spend the day with Jane first. He asked if he could bring both Jane and her best friend Darcy. He could and he did, further delaying the event of him being notified of Loki's state of being.

"Hello, fellow teammates! How has your day been?" Thor's voice boomed once the elevator doors opened. Tony had made a new "law" that there will be no further transportation into his building as it left the floors horribly damages along with the roof and balconies.

"Thor, you need to see someone, it's important," Steve said urgently, immediately setting off alarms in the three new guests' heads. They didn't say a word as they were led by the entire team save Thor into the living room. They saw Loki sitting in his usual seat on the floor by the window, staring out at the city lights and early dawn.

"Loki? Brother, are you feeling alright?" Thor asked his voice surprisingly quiet. He knew something was wrong. Loki could never be this still, he was always moving with what he believed the mortals called ADHD. He moved closer to the god, keeping Jane and Darcy back with the palm of his hand raised. The god remained still, he didn't even look like he was breathing, which was worrying. He sat down next to the dark-haired god, who continued to stare out of the window like he was watching something he couldn't take his eyes off of as if his life depended on it.

"Loki?" Thor asked one more time, putting his hand on Loki's shoulder, knowing that he was okay if he put up a fight as he knew Loki hated physical contact from anyone. He didn't move a muscle, he didn't even twitch. He was unresponsive. He falls backwards, his head cracking against the wooden floor. Darcy and Jane cried out, reaching towards the possibly deceased god. He was scaring them; why wasn't he being the sarcastic, derisive, biting and derisive god of magic and trickery that they all knew? Was he dead?

No, they could see the faint rise and fall of his chest.

His physical condition was sickening to Thor. He couldn't stand to see the motionless body, the dull eyes. But what killed him the most was the expression worn on the god's face. It was blank. Emotionless. Blank. Passive. Detached. His brother wasn't like this. He always wore expressions, always. Then it hit him, this had happened to one of his mother's friends after her son died.

"Loki… he's depressed. I have seen these symptoms before, but not to this extremity. He needs something or someone to bring him out of his shell, to show him that it will be alright."

"Can't you do that, Thor? After all, you are his brother," Jane said, shaking her head in confusion as why her boyfriend hasn't declared that he was going to help his brother yet.

Thor shook his head as he spoke gravely, "Loki is not my blood brother, and he has always held it against me that I was given the title as heir and he didn't even get offered the title as eldest. He will not listen to me, as I might push him deeper into his misery."

"I know a person that might be able to help. She works in SHIELD and is really good at taking care of people. Actually, she's like Loki in personality but with a caring side she shows. She might be able to drag him out of his funk," Darcy offered up. The Avengers had left already, leaving Thor and Jane to the decision. Said god only sighed.

"We have nothing to help my brother with, so why not? Who is this "she" that you speak of?" Thor asked wit sudden curiosity.

"Just a mutant called Thana Scurangelo." Thor scowled at Darcy's response. He had met this particular Italian before.

Thor commented on the name of the Italian mutant, "The Dark Angel."