Wait hold on

Why was this a Doctor Who one shot for a while

DAMMIT.

I clicked the wrong thing. -.- I need to start deleting things from the Doc Manager when I'm done with them.

But anyway, yey for more Loki stories~!

So, just a little something I whipped up. Technically comes before Exile Vilify, but it's not like you need to read that to understand this one.

But feel free to...

It was a humiliating defeat.

I can do nothing but take one last look at Midgard as our transport is prepared. All of this could have worked out so much better. The benefits would have been great not only for myself, but for the mortals, as well. They would have lost fewer lives, kept the illusion of safety in the citizens' hearts. And me? My reward would have been the greatest of all.

I would have gotten to go home.

It had been my own fault. A slip of the tongue, causing me to say too much. I reflect on it as I watch Agent Romanoff whisper something into Agent Barton's ear, causing him to smirk.

"You're a monster."

"Oh, no. You brought the monster."

She had assumed that I'd meant Doctor Banner. My expression of confusion was not regarding how she had discovered my plan, but how she could have discovered a plan which had not existed until that moment.

I call Doctor Banner a beast. There is only one person I have ever called a monster. The monster who parents tell their children about at night.

I could have left then. I could have returned with a small scrap of pride, but my mistake of words, my voice of emotion, had ruined it. I'd had to act like I was trying to escape, just in case Thanos was watching. He will be after me now. Had the plan fallen through as I'd hoped, perhaps the Asgardians would have attempted to keep me safe. But with countless people dead, there is little doubt they will be furious. I would not be surprised if they throw me to him.

Thor now stands beside me. As he holds the Tesseract out, I notice for the first time the markings on his vambrace. It is an old Asgardian custom for a warrior to decorate this piece of armour with a symbol representing a loved one who has passed away, as to carry their spirit into battle with him. Carved into his, I recognise the figure of a horned helmet. This is when I am sure that he was being sincere when he said he had mourned.

I know what comes next. I reluctantly take hold of the Tesseract's casing. I wish to see Asgard again, but I am dreading the trip.

The Tesseract affects everyone differently. For me, it increases my emotions. I've no idea to what extent until I am back to being in full control. So when I take hold of it and feel my body beginning to be transported, I am frightened beyond belief.

I hear my own voice, echoing from my memory, flashes of images going along with each phrase.

"This is the basest sentimentality!" Fighting Thor on Stark Tower. "This is a child at prayer!" Listening to Odin tell the story of the Frost Giants in our youth. "Pathetic!" Begging Odin to tell me the truth of my origins. "You lie and kill..." Stabbing Agent Coulson with the scepter. "...In the service of liars and killers." Thanos and The Other finding me after my plummet through the wormhole. "You pretend to be separate..." Watching Thor's banishment to Midgard. "To have your own code..." Standing, watching the Chitauri rip apart the city. "Something that makes up for the horrors." My coming to terms with my heritage. "But they are a part of you." The fight in Jotunheim, the first time I saw myself change. "And they will never go away." Falling. Falling so far, so quickly, yet everything seems almost to be in slow motion.

All of this in a fraction of a second.

I have almost no time to comprehend my surroundings. Before I can even blink, there are gleaming swords pointed directly toward my midsection, all surrounding me. One of the guards takes the Tesseract, which I can only assume will be stored in the Vaults. They begin to lead me away. Thor follows, keeping a tight grip on the back of my neck.

I cannot recall any other occasion I have seen the entire city gathered to watch a single event, apart from the day Thor was to become king. But there is no celebration today. The people stand at attention, silent, simply watching. Like an execution march.

All of Asgard with their eyes locked on me. Looking in... What is is? Ire? Fear? No. They are looking in disbelief. Disbelief that Loki, the Son of Odin who has never been skilled in anything but sorcery, could have displayed such power, such vengeance. They understand now. They understand that I am not, as they once believed, weak or useless. They see my power, and it terrifies them. This was my goal all along.

I am horrified at my own thoughts. I'd no idea the Tesseract still has a grasp on this part of my mind. I want so much to get it out, to be me again. Is this such an unfathomable request?

After what seems to be fifty lifetimes, I finally see it. The palace shines, almost giving off its own golden light. I'd forgotten how beautiful, how absolutely breathtaking it is. And as I look into the glistening structure, there is but one thought in my head: I'm home.

Not for long, I know that. Treason, war crimes- worth execution on their own. I know all too well that my fate is inevitable. And if they don't kill me, Thanos will.

Each step brings us closer, too quickly for my taste. Closer and closer until we are mere steps away.

A guard, sword pointed directly at my throat, orders me to my knees, and of course I cooperate. Thor's hand remains on the back of my neck, though be it in order to restrain a prisoner or for some sort of comfort I cannot say. My eyes stay on the ground in shame, not wishing to see any of them. But I cannot avoid it forever.

I reluctantly raise my eyes, and the moment they catch sight of Odin, I am gone. My vision blurrs and turns a piercing blue before returning to normal, and I am no longer me. I am the Loki which Thanos brutally molded me into. Yes, the moment I see him, intensified emotions of rage take me over, and I lunge forward with something resembling a growl in a blind, helpless fury. It is Thor, who pulls me back with a kind, forceful jerk, who saves me from impalement from the guards' weapons. "Brother, stop!" He yells. Yet I can still hear a touch of pity in his voice.

Still breathing in heavy rasps, I now cannot take my eyes off of Odin. I can see in his face that they convey the exact message I desire them to: "Are you satisfied? Is this not what you wanted? The monster is finally in chains. Its life is now in your hands once again. Look into my eyes, damn you! Do you see? Do you see what you've done to me?! And now it is time again, All-Father. Does the monster live, or do you let it perish?"

Sensing the unspoken tension between us, Frigga comes forth and sinks to her knees, her eyes level with mine. I do not lash out toward her for reasons I cannot determine. She slowly reaches her hand up- slowly, yet not frightened- and places it on my face, caressing both my cheek and the muzzle. "You will always be my son, Loki." She whispers, sounding broken. This is what brings the real me back. The pointless rage simply melts away. I have seen so many look disappointed in me, yet never have I seen such disappointment in her face until this day.

"Brother, stop!"

"You will always be my son, Loki."

Those words, words which speak of family. Are they sincere? They sound so, but how can they be? How can they still consider me as family, when I have so long ago decided I never could be?

I can no longer fight it, and a tear trickles down from my right eye. Frigga tenderly wipes it away. Just as a mother would.

How had it come to this? What had caused my figurative demise? As a child, I had known exactly what I would be. Growing up had been so disappointing. Because these are not the dreams I remember. These are not the wishes I recall. Being here is not the way I thought my life would be. I know not if the future will ever bring back that which I once had. The chances for that, I am aware, are very slim.

Frigga stands, taking a few steps back. I hate to have her go, to lose her tender touch. Possibly for the last time. Odin now comes forth, his expression nearly unreadable. "You understand the extent of what you have done." I am unsure if it is a question or a statement of fact. If I were able to, I would explain to him that it was not I who had done those things, killed those innocent people. It had been the puppet Thanos had turned me into. "You have committed treason against our realm, you have attempted to destroy not one, but two worlds. Has your thirst for power corrupted you in such a way that you cannot think rationally?" No. I think. All I ever wanted was to make you proud. "As I am sure you are aware, the sentence for each of these crimes is public execution." A pause, as if to allow my fate to sink in. But then he speaks again. "However, I am not blind as to your motives." If he has any regret, he hides it well. "Therefore, you will, for the time being, be put into solitary confinement for six months. By then a sufficient punishment will have been determined. This is your sentence..." I know what comes next. I silently ask, beg for him to stop there. Not to say it. Please don't say it. "...Loki Laufeyson."

Chatter and astonished, frightened gasps erupt from the crowd. This must be the first time they've heard. That name, the shouts from the endless sea of observers, they both combine to reawaken the essence of the Tesseract which lays in my soul, perhaps for the rest of my life. I watch helpless as my world flashes blue and my true self is shoved to the side. Odin orders them to take me away. I find myself fighting, trying to break free and attack the man who caused me to become this. Of course, I am restrained, and Odin is protected. I look back, and Thor's eyes portray a silent message: "I am so sorry."

I am frightened beyond anything else. Surely I will go mad before the six months are up. I've seen it once before. Thor and I were in our youth, some time between child and adulthood. Odin had specifically told us not to follow him, but being, well, me, I suggested we do just that. Thor never could resist an adventure, so he complied without a second thought. I'd rendered ourselves invisible, and we kept quiet, right on his heels. Whether or not he knew still remains a mystery to me. But this harmless game was going to turn into much, much more than that. We followed him, and watched as the guards removed a man from the holding cell. He had stayed there for eight weeks, I knew, but he looked as if it had been centuries.

His hair was knotted against his head, wrists raw where the chains had rubbed away the skin. His thin frame quivered, flinching from the touch of the guards' hands. And his eyes. His eyes were sunken in, and he'd had to shield them from the light. They darted around in what I could only describe as pure terror. For a moment, I thought the spell had worn off, as he looked directly at us, but upon checking, I knew that he was staring into thin air. This was the first time I saw my father as cruel.

And those eyes continue to haunt me to this day.

Distracted by my thoughts, I only now notice where we are. This is the exact cell I had watched the old madman liberated from all those years ago. I try to escape once more, but this time, it is actually me. Not here. Anywhere but here. But I have always been physically weaker than true Asgardians. I am powerless.

There is but a bench propped up against the far wall, which is covered in blood stains from where prisoners must have attempted to end the horrors. My chains are attached to said wall, and the taller of the two guards bids me a facetious "See you in six months" before slamming the door behind him.

There is no light, sound-proof walls keep out any outside noise. While I am in this room, I simply cease to exist, drowning in an ocean of nothingness. Sufficating here in the dark. But what worries me most is that, while I can hear nothing from the outside, that means no one can hear what happens on the inside.

Thanos could be directly in front of me at any moment. Even if the muzzle were removed, no one could hear me scream were he to come, killing me slowly in the most agonizing way he could think of. Despite the Tesseract still holding me captive in my own mind, I am very aware that I could never successfully fight him off. But I cannot think of that. There is no way to prevent it. If it is meant to happen, if the last thing I am to see is meant to be the blackness of this cell, so be it.

I close my eyes and begin counting the seconds.

Okay, so I got a lot of references in this one. One is a quote from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Love Never Dies ("I am dying, Christine! Suffocating here in the dark!"). The part with Frigga where she says "You will always be my son..." was inspired by a picture by Westishere on Tumblr. And a big one is a lyric from a play I'm in at my local theatre group, the song being written by Marion Dunk ("Because these are not the dreams I remember/These are not the wishes I recall/Being here is not the way I thought my life would be/I don't know if future times will bring it back to me").

Marion, if by the off chance you're reading this, I hope you don't mind.