A/N: Happy birthday to Gabrielle Day!

Part Two.

Cold was never a good sign. Loki found himself standing on a rocky surface that could only have been brought on by the days of devotion to detailing his encounter with the Chitauri and Thanos. It was a dream, perhaps remanence of the spell he'd cast, but in any case, he reminded himself carefully, it was not real.

He could see himself in a distance and he grimly thought that memories and dreams had no place mingling. He'd come to this place broken and beaten down by the uncaring universe. He'd been cast out, exiled, and betrayed. He had no one and he had wanted nothing to do with Thanos or the Chitauri at first. They were further complications and he held no respect for them. They had been... persuasive in their methods.

You thought you knew pain.

Loki felt the chill crawl up his spine, sending a shiver through him at the gravely voice. He could not see the owner to it, but he knew he was close. Illusion or not, he'd prefer not to face him or his shadowy master.

He tried not to cringe as he felt the oddly shaped hand take a sudden hold on the back of his neck. It clamped down, sending pain shooting through his shoulders and forcing him down. It was as if knives had been driven in and a small gasp escaped him as he found his knees colliding with the solid ground.

You thought you could hide.

"Just a dream," the trickster murmured to himself.

You thought he could protect you.

Loki felt his head being jerked upward, the second hand wrapped in his dark hair. He couldn't close his eyes, even if everything within him screamed to. Instead he watched as a form, blurred by speed, crashed into the rocky terrain and was forced down into the ground. It had been forced downward by a creature that the god of mischief had only met briefly and would much rather have continued to avoid for the rest of his days. Thanos, dream or not, was a frightening figure to behold, dwarfing the Asgardian prince as if he'd been little more than a child. In one large hand he hauled Thor from the ground, limp and covered in blood. Loki had never seen his brother look so small.

You were wrong.

Loki woke screaming his brother's name, sitting straight up in bed to the point that he had rocked forward to his knees. He was tangled in the bedsheets and drenched in sweat, his long fingers reaching out as if he'd been trying to grasp something. He wasn't sure what, because he had seen his brother's face in the dream and he had been gone.

The prince couldn't control his breathing as he choked against a sob that bubbled in his throat and he lay against the cool sheets shaking. He could still feel the clammy hands around him, the pain in his shoulders, and even as he closed his eyes against it he saw his brother's face pale as death with eyes that stared vacantly.

He jolted as the sound of a soft knock came from his door and he watched it, almost afraid to see what was on the other side. His entire body was trembling and his eyes remained glued on the door that slowly opened, revealing the dim lights from the torches in the hall.

"Loki?" Thor's voice filtered in and the trickster felt himself calm. "Brother?"

"I'm awake," Loki answered softly and buried his face back into his pillow.

He heard Thor close the door behind him, invitation taken in the fact that the younger prince had answered at all, and pad his way over to the bed. The mattress dipped down next to him as the god of thunder sat, one large hand on his brother's shoulder. "Are you well?"

Any lie he could come up with in this state would be a feeble attempt and not worthy of his epithet, so Loki merely grunted a reply, feeling himself burn in embarrassment. He had known the potential consequences of his actions when he'd set to noting his experiences and the fact that he'd brought his brother running the the dead of the night with some horrible scream was more humiliating than his sleep deprived mind was willing to deal with.

"Loki?" Thor's voice sounded more worried now and Loki felt hands on either shoulder, pulling him up so that the blond could look him in the face. He must have looked a sight with the wide-eyed stare he received that almost instantly melted as the thunderer pulled his brother into a tight embrace.

"Enough," Loki groused, squirming and running his thin hand along his face. It came away wet and he cursed himself for his tears. Thor was not dead and he'd let the dream get the best of him. "It was just a nightmare. I'm sorry to have startled you."

"I meant to greet you when you came back," his brother murmured, shifting his weight and letting Loki move to where he was more comfortable.

"I was tired and in no mood for company."

"And now?"

His pride nearly spoke first, telling Thor that he was still in no mood for it, which was true, but when green eyes came to rest on the elder prince's earnest expression and he thought of how dream-Thanos had pummeled him into the ground, breaking every bone so that Loki could almost hear it... He shuddered and shook his head, not quite able to send him away. "I'm still tired, but I doubt I'll sleep more."

"You don't mind me staying then?"

Loki offered him a smile that showed he knew his brother was being kind. "If you must."

Thor grinned at this, settling in so that he was propped against the headboard with his arms folded behind his head. He looked so at ease there and Loki envied him for a moment.

"I dreamt tonight too," he said after a stretch of silence, cracking open one blue eye to find his brother studying him.

"You don't often dream."

"I don't often tell you that I dream." A smile crossed his features that was not quite sad, nor was it filled with any joy. "I'll admit to you, brother, because I know you'll keep my secret."

"Of course."

"I was on my way to your chambers when I heard you cry out. I'd already dreamt of that terrible night on the Bridge, after our conversation earlier."

"We said nothing of the Bridge earlier."

"I know, but I'm not as much of a fool as you'd like to believe sometimes." The crowned prince offered his brother another one of those smiles that Loki wasn't sure looked right on him. Thor was sunshine and bright, almost uncontrollable, excitement. He lit up a room by passing through it and his laughter echoed through every hallway of the palace. Any form of gloom had never suited him well. In their elder years, though, he had learned hardship and pain. He had seen it before, but he seemed to understand it now.

"I know you're not a fool," Loki admitted softly, leaning back with him against the board.

"I've told you of it before. You drop just out of my reach and I can't... I don't catch you. I should have."

"You couldn't have," the dark haired prince whispered softly. He took a deep breath and leaned against his brother, the closeness something he knew helped Thor. It helped him too, but he was much slower to admit it.

Thor leaned his head so that it rested on the top of Loki's. "What did you dream of?"

"You died and I couldn't stop it."

"Then we dreamt the same," the blond prince murmured sleepily. "The same false dream."

Loki smiled to himself. Even when touched with gloom, Thor was a light in it.

Morning dawned with expectations of normalcy, whatever that was. Thor complained heavily when Loki harassed him into attending more meetings than he usually did, but the trickster smiled and charmed him into receiving the time to stow away to a different part of the castle. It was good for him, truth be told, and eventually Thor would be expected to attend them anyway.

"I heard Aegir gleefully discussing the long list of meetings that you and your brother were to be attending this morning," Frigga's voice met him as he rounded the corner.

Her younger son smiled broadly. "I attend as many as I do to lighten Thor's load. There is no war on our doorstep, nor peace agreement, nor anything of the sort. He'll survive. I've been looking for you."

"I know," Frigga answered as she laid her book down in her lap and patted the cushion next to her on her window seat. "What's troubling you?"

"Must something be troubling me to seek out my own mother?"

"No, but the spell you've cast on yourself to cover the signs of sleepless nights does cause the mother in question to ask. My son, what is troubling you?"

Loki took the offered seat, looking a bit sheepish as he did so. He had never been able to fool her. "I know that you are well-versed in the art of projecting your consciousness over vast space. It is a rare gift."

Frigga turned her wise eyes on her younger son and they studied him. She had been the first to know he was alive after his fall, the first to find him. She'd reached out, a ghostly form calling him home. "I am. You know this from experience." She waited and watched, finding him reluctant to speak further. "My dear, you have always been able to speak openly with me."

He pulled in a deep breath through his nose, straightening his shoulders. "Is it possible to be pulled in that manner and have those doing the pulling manipulate what is seen?"

If she were startled by the question, she did not show it. Instead she pursed her lips together thoughtfully. "It is, though it would take opening oneself up in ways that should be avoided, just for these reasons." She paused, reaching out to lay one hand against her son's. "Loki, I've never known you to open yourself in that way to anything."

And so he told her, in the way that he had always been able to tell her anything and feel no judgment against his actions. She listened carefully, nodding, and finally gripped his hand tightly as he finished with the dream. He was shaking now, very slightly, but she did not miss it. "My dear, I do not belittle this you know, but have you thought about the possibility that it was simply as it appeared? That it was simply a dream turned to nightmare?"

"I've had my share of nightmares, Mother. I know what they are and I know how they feel. Even the ones that leave me quaking when I wake... No. This was different."

"With each passing pain your mind must find new ways to handle it," Frigga murmured. "You and your brother have come very close to losing each other more times than I care to count. Perhaps dwelling on one of your fears has allowed it to couple with another." She sighed, reaching to cup his cheek affectionately and offered him a smile. "Still, you are wise to watch it. You know well enough that not all magic is something that can be predicted. It can be manipulated to suit the caster's wishes, and if you have awoken something dark in your search...Guard your mind and build the defenses needed. Your strengths have always lain in other areas besides projection. Focus your defenses there."

He sighed, letting her words sink deep. "Thank you, Mother," he whispered and she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"Now come. If we're both found hiding in the library while your brother sits through Aegir's longwinded speeches I fear to think of the consequences."

TBC