What haunted Steve about those strange couple of days wasn't the invasion, the unimaginable destruction, or even the many deaths he witnessed; he had seen all those things before, in another life. It was the brokenness, the shear pain of the aggressor.

He had assumed when he first saw him in Germany, and from what SHIELD had told him, that Loki was evil, akin to Hitler and the many would-be rulers of Earth before him. Only out to conquer for the fun, to make life fit their vision of how it should be. Black and white, as simple as that.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Steve had always given people second chances, the benefit of the doubt. Loki's initial impression was a bit harder to overcome than most, but certain thoughts were getting harder and harder to ignore.

Steve had seen many abhorrent, cruel men, and their eyes were always the same. Icy, tinged with the cruel pleasures they got from their work, and then blackness, an unsettling nothingness that seemed to swallow even the brightest of spirits. These men were beyond egotistical of the destruction they wrought, and cared for none, especially those who got in their way. Steve detested men like this, as they threatened all he believed in. All they brought was pain.

Loki's eyes, from any outside observer, appeared this way. They were dark green, almost black, and they glinted like rough, uncut emeralds that night he fought Loki in that courtyard.

Every time Steve closed his eyes after that night, he could see Loki's staring back. But they weren't full of malice or evil like he thought he remembered from that night; instead, all he could see was anguish and shattered desire, and his eyes pleaded with him for release from this madness.

Even with all that Thor had mentioned about Loki as his brother, it took Steve several sleepless nights before he finally realized what had been perplexing him about Loki. Everything he had seen, the darkness in his eyes, was a shallow façade, a mask attempting to hide whatever lay beneath that Loki didn't want the world to see.

Emotion and sentiment are unfortunately seen as weakness when you refuse to be hurt by anyone else.

Steve had always worn his heart on his sleeve, even before the serum. He had been told that was his greatest strength and he should never change who he was. Steve doesn't break promises. He also knew though that not everyone had that level of faith put in them. He doubts Loki ever did.

He dwelled on Loki constantly, possibly more than healthy, but even after the revelation, he couldn't get those haunting eyes out of his mind. Steve knew it was a silly, naive idea, but he couldn't help but think that perhaps there was some way to splinter and destroy the shell that Loki has created for himself. A way to show him that he doesn't have to lash out or cause destruction to be seen and heard, that someone can believe in him.

Curling up in his bed in the early hours of the morning, Steve attempted to relax enough to actually get some sleep after a fairly tedious fight had robbed him of most of his strength.

Rolling to the other side of the bed, he briefly opened his eyes to glance at the clock on his nightstand and closed them again. After a beat, his mind processed what he had seen, and a shock ran through his body. Steve threw off his covers, diving for his shield that was resting against the wall.

Holding it defensively, he peered over the top of the shield to face the figure of Loki bathed in the faint, but eerily green light of his alarm clock.

"I… but. Wha- what are you doing here?" Steve was felt ready to collapse and could barely process what was happening. One big fight was enough to wear him out. He wasn't ready for a second one.

"My, my. Aren't you articulate." Loki glanced around the room casually. "Not as impressive as I would expect for a mortal of your status in this…" Loki gestured to the general area around him. "…society."

Steve stared at him with his mouth open. "Am I dreaming?" he muttered, almost to himself.

Loki grinned. "Perhaps. You can never really tell, can you?" Loki paused, pulling open a desk drawer near him and studying its contents. "For instance, why would I just show up in the Stark Tower? I believe I am expected to be imprisoned in back in Asgard?"

Steve nodded slowly, his eyes glued to the god currently wandering his bedroom. "You were brought back there by Thor not too long ago. You can't be here. We would have been informed of your escape."

"Undoubtedly. So there is no possibility of me currently being present in this pathetic realm. Therefore, you must be dreaming." Loki smirked as another copy of himself appeared to Steve's right, who began opening his closet.

"I could never just send you off with a duplicate," Loki drawled as he picked up a baseball from the top of the desk and began levitating it several inches above his hand. "Thor has never fallen for that one. Multiple times."

"ENOUGH!" Steve threw his shield which knocked off the first Loki, before flying towards the one to his right, which shuddered and disappeared.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Loki," Steve said slowly, glaring at him from across the bed, as he caught his shield. "I'm going to assume for the time being you are just a dream. You're not… you."

Loki's smile dissolved into a thin line. "And how would you have any idea what I'm like?" Who I am?"

"I just—" Steve hesitated, staring straight into his eyes. "I just do."

"You may think you have some idea, soldier, but I assure you, you do not." Loki slowly moved around the bed until he was several feet away from Steve.

Steve had only pulled on a worn pair of pajama pants before collapsing into bed earlier that night. He had bags under his eyes, and was teetered slightly, but still holding his shield in front of him. He accessed Loki's state. Real or not, this Loki did not seem to pose much of a threat. He was only eyeing his stuff and as anyone could know, he kept nothing of importance in his room. If this Loki was real or wanted to be an actual menace, he would have appeared in a more useful part of Stark Tower. Sighing heavily, he dropped his shield and sat down on the bed.

"I'm sorry."

Loki just stared at him, confusion etched throughout his face.

Steve felt unsure of how to start. He finally decided on the direct route, which had always served him best. "If you're just part of a dream, you know this, but if not… I've been thinking about you a lot for the past couple of weeks. Which sounds weird. But not thinking about you completely. Your eyes, really."

Loki's mouth twitched up in the corner, still lost. "Is this some jest? I'll have you know, this is not your strength. I'd stick to wars."

Steve continued if Loki had not said anything. "I am sure Thor is most aware of this of anyone, but you, I imagine, refuse to listen to him. Brothers can be that way, from what I hear."

Loki turned away from Steve at the mention of Thor's name. He had now moved to the window, running his long fingers across the expensive fabric of the drapes.

Steve looked down at his bare feet, watching his toes curl around the plush carpet as his stomach clenched. He needed to find the right words. For some reason in his mind, telling this Loki what he had concluded about him was vital. Loki needed to hear these words from someone.

"They call you the Trickster. And you live up to that name. You've tricked everyone. Stark thinks you're plain evil. Bruce calls you crazy. And you may be some of these things but they're a front, to hide how you are truly feeling because you won't even allow yourself to feel it."

Steve's voice cracked on the last word as he looked up. "I—"

There was no one by the window. He glanced around his dark room, and seeing it empty, Steve shook his head. He rested his hands on his face and rubbed his eyes, as the adrenaline of the moment faded away, and sleep settled back in. He couldn't tell if his lack of sleep had caused an unusual hallucination or he had scared Loki off.

Laying back down on his bed, Steve closed his eyes.

"I—I can help you," Steve whispered to the dark, empty room. "If you ever want it."

The room was completely silent.

He sighed, and finally gave up for sleep at last.