A/N: I hope this chapter isn't too disappointing. Thanks to EvilConcubine, ClintBarton-Loki'sButtWarmer, j-mercuryuk and Guest for reviewing, to those who continue to Fav and Follow, and to Bomber for betaing.

It took a month before anything happened – a month of excruciating apprehension, without even a false alarm to break the constant waiting. S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers never once let down their guard, and it was taking its toll on Thor's nerves.

He had been given the topmost floor of the rebuilt Stark Tower to use as his own personal quarters – an elegant yet pragmatic spread of rooms that catered to his daily needs perfectly, almost removing any need to interact with his friends; and Thor had taken to solitude. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered him a further sense of proximity to the sky, from which he drew comfort, knowing that if anything came, he would see it coming.

He never saw Loki coming.

It was one of those sleepless nights that were becoming increasingly common; Thor sat alone, his head in his hands, rubbing his tired face. Loki meditated whenever he couldn't sleep. He said it was far more restful, he remembered, before angrily shoving the memory out of his head.

He wasn't sure what it was that alerted him to the silent, motionless presence behind him – perhaps a subtle crackle of magic, or perhaps just instinct. He whipped around, unhooking the hammer from his belt.

In front of him, in the middle of the open-plan lounge, was Loki. The real Loki. Yet there was no portal, no Tesseract, no army or even a weapon in sight. The God of Mischief stood tall and self-composed as ever, but with a heaviness to his posture that spoke of defeat. As Thor moved towards him, he lowered his eyes, inhaling unevenly as if trying to steady himself.

'Brother,' Loki's voice was subdued. 'I came to surrender.'

'Why?' Thor demanded. Loki swayed, a ragged breath hitching in his throat, his eyes still downcast. Something else looked odd or different about him. What was it? 'Are you wounded? What ails you?'

'Do you ask from concern or practicality?' Loki replied quietly. Thor literally growled. Electricity gathered and crackled around Mjölnir's head as he readied to strike, but as he advanced on Loki, Loki drew back, entering the moonlight. Dampness – either nervous sweat or smudged tear-tracks – was shimmering on the skin of his face. 'I surrendered,' he said. As Thor reached for him, Loki recoiled, then suddenly fell, hugging Thor's leg. It took a moment for Thor's brain to catch up, and incredulously he realised his brother was on all fours.

'Loki – '

'I am sorry. Forgive me.' Loki's voice was muffled, his head pressed to Thor's knee. This was wrong. Loki would never do this. 'Please forgive me.'

How could he not? Every misgiving and resentment melted away; dropping his hammer, Thor knelt and gathered Loki into his embrace. Loki struggled briefly as he continued trying to cling to his knee.

'Loki, stop,' Thor entreated him, unable to bear seeing Loki reduced to such a state. 'Stop this. Don't do this. Please.'

'I hated you. So much hatred – I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to hurt everyone, even those who had done nothing,' he was mumbling, 'I told myself I had no brother. No home, because home was where you were. I'm sorry. I betrayed you. I betrayed everyone.'

'Loki, enough, please. All will be well. I promise you.' Loki was telling the truth, he realised painfully. The Chitauri turned on him after all. He held Loki as warmly as he knew how, trying to calm him. Loki's hands linked together behind Thor's back. There was no illusion here this time, no deception in this tangible body racked with tremors of fear.

'Do you forgive me?'

'Of course.' Firmly. Unhesitatingly. 'Of course I do. Freely and truly. You're my brother.'

'But you stopped, didn't you?'

'I gave up hope. I'm sorry. I should have known better. I should have trusted in your heart.'

Loki did not reply, but leaned into him, tightening his hold. In a mixture of heartache and relief, Thor closed his eyes.

The dagger's touch was a serpent's kiss, silken yet chill. Thor's mouth and eyes opened wide in shock as the blade slid into the back of his neck. Loki drew back from him. His face was still damp, but his expression had cleared and ceased its trembling – a pale, cold mask.

'You've always been a fool,' he said flatly. 'And you never learn, do you?'

Releasing him, Loki rose. Thor remained on his knees, staring up at him numbly. It was only then that he realised what it was that had been nagging at him. The God of Mischief looked his former self – his face youthful and healthy, his hair neatly combed and nape-length – not the gaunt, haggard God of Menace who had come to threaten Earth just months ago. A version of Loki which Thor would trust. A glamour. A lie.

Loki passed a hand over his eyes, wiping them dry.

'Let this be your life's final lesson, Odinson. Love does not redeem. There is no redemption. Forgive me all you want, but by your arrogance you made me this way, and this way I shall remain. Your forgiveness means nothing. It is worthless.'

The Liesmith lashed out, kicking Thor flat on his back, then turned and began limping away. Before he got far, thunder sounded and a tear rent open in the atmosphere, a glowing swirl of blue building steadily in the sky. A portal was opening. Something was coming through.

'He lies bleeding,' Loki said aloud to the blue. 'The others are coming, but they will not cope long without him.'

Then a voice which came from nowhere yet everywhere replied, but it was inside Thor's head; and it must have been in Loki's too, for Loki doubled up as if about to retch. Deep and resounding and utterly terrifying, it said:

'Thanos approaches.'