A/N: Major spoilers for Infinity War! Loki's scene destroyed me emotionally, of course, so I'm writing fic about it. Thank you for reading.

"Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." - Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 2


He remembers the weight of the scepter in his hands, and the cool surface of the smooth, golden metal when he wielded it. He remembers the pressure when he forced the tip against a heart – how the human's will would struggle, for a moment, then bend, giving into a power greater than itself. Even now, he recalls the rush of adrenaline this control gave him, with the hint of a smirk.

He remembers the lethal curve of the blade, and the way that it passed so easily through the mortal agent's back, and out the front. It is easy to recall the sick thrill he felt at the disgusting sound it – and the man – made when he pulled it back out, the tip wet and dripping with blood.

He had looked at Thor and laughed, revealing the mortal's fate by pointing to that blood.

It was the death of Phil Coulson, agent of SHIELD, that brought six vastly different beings together to become the Avengers. He was their catalyst, their tipping point – he was their way to victory.

Now, standing before Thanos with all of Asgard dead around him, Loki's thoughts are a whirlwind. There must be a way out of this; there must be. He has finally found himself – finally made peace with the contradictions and monstrosities that make up his essence. He and Thor deserve a happy ending after all they've been through.

How can they possibly obtain it now?

The Tesseract for his brother's head.

For one moment, he allows himself to keep the Tesseract and let Thor die. To see if Thanos will go through with it. To see if he himself has changed, as he claims.

The tears in his eyes tell him, with absolute certainty, that he has changed – and the screams of his brother tell him, with painful clarity, that Thanos will go through with it.

"Alright, that's enough!" he yells, more at himself than at Thanos.

Think, Loki, a voice that sounds like Thor's whispers in his mind. You are clever, and you are stronger than Thanos knows. You can find a way through this.

Keeping his gaze locked on Thor's single, pleading eye, a plan begins to take shape in Loki's mind. His life for Thanos's defeat. Though it fills him with dread, it's mad enough that it just might work.

It seems poetic, really. He has always loved a touch of the dramatic. A grand speech, a golden statue, a play to embellish his story – they are all the same in the end. They make him immortal. They make him a god. If he dies in the next few moments, a sacrifice for Thor, he will be remembered forever.

When, he thinks, trying to ignore the panic rising within him. When I die in the next few moments, Thor will be completely broken.

Brokenness is something Loki knows well. It is what pushes a being to do things they never believed they would. If there is nothing tying Thor to this universe, then he will become the reckless, unparalleled fighter that he once was, back in their youth. He will do anything to stop the creature that murdered his little brother.

The Avengers have always needed something – someone – to avenge. It's simply how they work. Killing Agent Coulson made Loki understand this.

He will give them something to avenge. He will give Thor someone to avenge.

His last words come easily, spilling out of him as he desperately tries to make Thor see. The pain in his brother's expression hurts more than anything Thanos will do – he is certain – but he cannot back down now. He knows what he must do.

Calling on his magic, he projects his thoughts into Thor's mind even as he speaks to the titan before him.

I am here, Thor, and I will always be with you. No matter what I've done in the past – no matter what I am saying to Thanos – I am one thing above all the rest: I am your brother. Remember this.

He gives Thor one last look, speaking the name Odinson aloud, before summoning his dagger into his left hand.

Taking a deep breath, he turns to meet his fate.