AN: A trigger warning. Also, please review etc.

Chapter Four

Loki awoke some days later to white and pale gold. He was in the hospital, he'd been there so many times that he recognised it instantly. He was tired and groggy, but he could already tell he was stronger than he had been in a long time, maybe even since he sent the Destroyer. He had never fully healed after his fall through the void. Now though, now he was strong.

He looked around to see Thor and Frigga at his bedside, and internally groaned at the thought. How dare they pretend to care? At least Odin didn't try, but then he never did anyway.

"My son," Frigga began, and he could see the unshed tears in her eyes. Perhaps she did truly mourn. "How do you feel?"

Loki scowled, gritting his teeth. Frigga looked saddened by his reaction but she shouldn't have expected any better. Thor put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Brother, you had not eaten. You were starving to death. Why? The collar does not hinder you." It only took him a moment to remember Loki could not respond. "You should have gotten food from the kitchen, but if you still wish to remain in your quarters I will get a servant to bring you regular meals."

Loki just shook his head, not sure why he was so opposed to the idea.

Thor nodded, as though understanding what even he did not. "If you wish, I will bring you your meals personally."

He shook his head again. He didn't want meals. He didn't want Thor, or anyone else, treating him like some injured puppy. He wanted to prove himself. To prove he was strong, even without his voice. To prove he was worthy, and to prove he was no longer than child he was. He wanted them to see. He knew what he needed to do, he just need to form a plan as to how.

Thor and Frigga left a few minutes later as it fast became clear he wasn't in the mood to even try to converse. Several hours later the nurses let him go, with strict orders that he eat three meals a day and return in a week so they could check on his progress.

On the long walk back to his own chambers he kept his head down, avoiding the gazes of any who crossed his path. At one point he even ducked into an adjoining room to hide from Fandral and Hogun, who were walking down the corridor in front if him.

Back in his quarters, he was greeted by a veritable buffet. The very thought of eating any of what was before him made him feel sick. The weight he had gained from the nutrients they had been injecting in him and days of bed rest made him feel uncomfortably heavy, and he decided it was perfectly safe for him to fast a little longer until he returned to his normal weight at least. He cast the food aside, the glass and porcelain tableware crashing onto the floor and shattering. It was oddly cathartic. He used a blast of power to shatter it further. Causing the remains of the food to vanish, he admired the shattered materials before him. He had always found destruction beautiful. Entropy.

Loki bent to pick up a jagged piece of glass, in which he could see his green eyes dimly reflected. In frustration, he gripped it tight, and it cut into the flesh of his palm. Instinctively, he dropped it where it cracked down the centre, edges tinted pink. He turned his hand over to examine it. Two thin lines of red crossed his palm from either side of the jagged piece. Loki merely gazed at them a moment before lightly pulling the skin apart. The faint lines filled up in an instant, and a bead of blood traveled down his wrist, curving and dropping off of his arm. For a moment he could only watch, before blotting the wound with the sleeve of his shirt.

Before he fully realised what he was doing, he had another piece of glass in his other hand, and was resting it against the supple skin of his forearm. He dug it in lightly and slowly drew it back, marvelling at the brightness of the red on his pale skin. For a moment he was able to forget it all. The throne, his brother, his failed conquests, even the cursed collar about his throat. As the blood beaded up and out of the skin he watched, absorbed in the calm. It was like he had just received a good blow in a fair battle. The slight adrenaline only made him want to fight more, to give and to take. The injury only made him stronger.
As he waited for the bleeding to stop he tried to expand his simple idea into a plan. And it was a simple idea, really. He had to prove to Thor that he could fight, and he would no longer live in his brothers shadow. This time, instead of taking his planet, he would kill his friends. Those petty humans, those 'Avengers' would serve him in their death.

Loki healed the wounds on his arm and hand as soon as they stopped throbbing and the pain subsided. They vanished without a trace, the skin knitting together under his gaze.

After several hours of quiet contemplation Loki was unable to form a single concrete plan. There were too many variables, too many things he did not know. He knew the men and women of the team as well as he possibly could: The patriot struggling in a time beyond him, the alcoholic genius living in the influence of his past, the scientist afraid of his very being, the women whose main strength was her weakness and the short tempered pet who merely followed orders. What he did not know was how they would react to a personal threat. The organisation ran by the one-eyed man was the wildcard. Loki wasn't quite sure how the Avengers and SHIELD worked together, or how closely linked members of the team were through the organisation. Could he pick them off one-by-one? He might be able to destroy half the team before the others gathered. Or would they instantly group together?

The trickster god almost didn't care to scheme. He wanted chaos, and what would cause better chaos than a foe with no pattern? One who merely caused destruction for destructions sake?

Even without the Bifrost or his 'fathers' power Loki could still get to the planet Earth. He had always had his own ways of journeying between realms that even Heimdall could not see. And Loki had not been unobservant when captured on Midgard. He knew where he could best find the Avengers, either together or apart. Whilst the patriotic Captain America was the leader of the team, Tony Stark was the heart. It was at his home that he would find them.

Surprise would be his advantage. If they were all there he could kill them all in an hour and be back before anyone noticed he was gone, but that was not what he wanted. He wanted a show, he wanted a bit of fun and a good fight. He needed to prove a point, and that was the difficulty. Thor would have to know, and for that Loki had to stay there a little longer. If he stayed too long, though, SHIELD would swoop in. Although, if he could keep the damage localised they might get too caught up in the internal bureaucracy. Loki knew that tensions had frayed between departments during his last attack.

Loki scowled, he was going round in circles. Perhaps if he waited a short while, until Thor next came near, he could time it right. He could travel to Earth and cause enough trouble to gather the Avengers against him before Thor realised he had left the city, but after he realised his brother was gone from his rooms. Thor would know where he had gone, thinking Loki was simply after revenge. Perhaps he was, he wouldn't mind cutting that green beast down to size. What would he do with Thor though? Would he, could he, even, kill his brother? Loki wasn't sure on either count.