AN: I really want to do more with this scene, but it's part of my headcanon that's not a part of What Do You Have to Say About Loki [god, that's waaay too long], so until I type that whole story, I probably won't do much with this one aside from drabbles. Which are a total pain in the rear, 'cause this was much more cohesive with one hundred and fourteen words!


They all stood slack-jawed, gaping even as Loki, weary and bleeding from a cut on his face, stalked towards them with a limp Thor draped over his shoulders. Mjolnir dangled from his pale wrist, but one glance at his face told them that the hammer was long forgotten. Only the bloodied thunder god held Loki's mind – and the five mortals about to feel a not-brother's wrath.

"You pathetic whelps," he snarled, not for the first time, "Can you not even keep a child safe?"

None cowered, none objected. Loki ranted for a few moments; then, Thor stirred.

"Brother?" he whispered.