Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, Lilo and Stitch or the Loki and the Loon comic series.

As per usual, this is based on Megan's comic book, but has extended past her cannon, and neither of us makes any claim to how Loki or Tom Hiddleston would behave in these situations. It's just the concept of Tom and Loki interacting with each other.

Yay, 20th Chapter!

SPOILER WARNING FOR INFINITY WAR!

Also, wishful thinking.

Chapter 20: Dead, or Not Dead? That is the Question.

It had been a long time coming, eight years for Tom, in fact. Filming for Infinity War was complete, and the movie successfully premiered. Yet, he felt sad. His character- his friend, had finally come to an end. The return back to the flat had been an anxious one, for one dark, horrible question was ever present in his mind. Would Loki be there? When Loki and his brother's appearance had dramatically changed with the arrival of Thor Ragnarok, it had been a pleasant yet shocking surprise. But it meant that his world's friends changed with their Marvel universe counterparts, possibly even if death.

He wasn't entirely sure if his Loki, or Thor- or any of them, were the same as their movie counterparts. They seemed to share the same appearance and characteristics, perhaps even character arcs, yet they were not the same. They were from some from another universe, and his versions from some other universe- certainly not his own. Or were they? His Loki had managed to get his hands on the Tesseract when the other Loki had. Thinking about such things made his head hurt.

The flat seemed quiet, much too quiet for two demi-gods and one alien-dog creature. Tom felt his chest tighten in fear. He looked and listened around for any signs of life. He found none. Anxiously, he let go of his suitcase, dropping the keys by it before he made his way through the open living space, "Loki? "he called quietly, not sure if he really wanted to call his name too loudly, for if there was no response, it could only mean one thing. He breathed in, moving further into the apartment, "Thor? Anyone?"

"In here, Son of Hiddle."

He sighed a breath of relief at the familiar voice. Where there was Thor, there was Loki. He followed the sound of the voice to the living room. There he found Thor, sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking worse for wear despite his once again new attire. Stitch was in his lap, ears and antenna drooping in sadness. There was no Loki.

He drew closer and saw that Thor's face held a deep frown, his left eye red as he pet the alien-dog in his lap. Stitch too, looked far too sombre. Tom felt most of his hope leave him; yet, there was still some left. "Thor? …is Loki here?"

Thor raised a tired head, which revealed two eyes, rather than one. The right eye was tearless while the other was red. Yet, both eyes held an emptiness within them; empty except for a great sadness. He shook his head. "He just… he just disappeared. I hoped we would still be able to be together, here in this apartment. But I lost him, again. To Thanos, and too whatever made him disappear."

Tom sank to the floor in front of Thor, "I think… I think they wrote him out of existence." He swallowed, his own eyes growing heavy, "I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Thor sniffled, not making eye contact, "Nor did I, both times." He wiped his eyes, "he died a noble death, to save me."

He smiled weakly, "I know, and I am prouder than I have ever been."

The thunder god smiled back ever so slightly, "I imagine my mother and father are proud of him also; they are all together in death now- I don't know about my sister though.

He chuckled at that, before frowning suddenly as a new, even darker thought entered his mind. "Does …does this mean they all disappeared, in this world?"

Thor shook his head, "I do not know."

At that they sat, silent. Thor continued to pet Stitch while he simply thought. He thought of Loki; of how far he had come, the bad, the good, the failures, the successes, but most of all he thought of the time he had spent with him in the stupid little flat. It had been Loki who had sent out that advertisement looking for a flatmate. When he had seen it, he had only answered it out of curiosity, not sure what to expect. For some bizarre reason, he showed up at the door and found Loki, not an enthusiastic fan or some sort of prelude to a murder show. So, he stayed. He hadn't need too. Heavens knows he didn't need to share a flat to pay rent. But he had needed Loki. The character that made his career, so far at least. The brother who became lost, the villain that invaded New York, the son that saved the throne, then took it, the prince that became the saviour; and finally, the hero, Loki Odinson of Asgard, who after everything could not watch his brother die. But most of all, he had been his friend. He supposed all things must come to an end.

Wiping his own eyes, he got up and went to the kitchen. He made his way past the kitchen table to the fridge. Maybe for a drink, maybe for memories or pranks. He wasn't sure. Life would never be the same.

Loki Odinson of Asgard, esteemed hero and saviour of Asgard and his idiotic brother, the Lord of Thunder, was leaning comfortably against the kitchen countertop, enjoying an excellent English breakfast, as he had been for several hours when his flatmate wandered into the kitchen. He took another bite of his delicious meal, watching as Tom opened the fridge door like it weighed half of Volstagg.

Thomas looked terribly sad, shoulders slumped and eyes red. It was most unusual for the normally cheerful mortal; he felt a pang of worry for his friend. He watched as Tom sat down at the table, orange juice carton in hand, utterly ignoring him.

Suddenly, Tom burst into tears, pressing his face into his palms as he cried. This went on for some time before Loki finally decided to interrupt, "why on Earth are you crying, Thomas?"

Tom shot up from his seat, a look of pure shock on his face, then relief. A moment later Loki found himself enveloped in his friend's arms. Confused, he returned the embrace, resting his head on Tom's shoulder as he awkwardly attempted to soothe his crying flatmate with a pat on the back.

Eventually, Tom pulled away, eyes raw, "you're meant to be dead."

"Am I? Terribly sorry," he retorted, somewhat sarcastically.

"you were killed by Thanos! Thor said you disappeared before him in the apartment," Tom frowned, yet smiled. It was an odd look.

"Yes, I suppose I was, and did."

Tom threw his arms up, "how are you here? Not that I am complaining," he paused, frowning deeper, "did you fake your death again?"

"Sounds like something I would do," he chuckled, taking a sip of coffee from his #1 Bro mug, "what did I look like when I died? In the movie, I mean."

"Like you, only pale- you were chocked to death."

He sighed, giving a knowing look in a random direction, "Yes, I am aware; once again, I ask you what did I, or well, you, look like?"

"I just told you. Like you. Pale, a little greasy yet stylish."

This is going nowhere. "Honestly Thomas, you would think I was talking to Thor. What do I look like naturally?"

Thomas frowned, "this is ridiculous-"

"answer the question, Thomas."

"You looked like me."

He sighed, annoyed, "what do I look like in my true form, say, when I am no upholding my guise because of laziness, the need for certain powers or perhaps an unfortunate, untimely loss of life?"

Thomas thought for a moment, by the look of concentration on his face. He excused it as being emotionally exhausted. Finally, Tom looked up, "well if you did any of those things, your skin turns blue, and your eyes would- oh."

He raised an eyebrow, "well, if I did not look like that I think we can conclude that I did not in fact, die."

Tom stared at him for a moment, a different look of shock on his face, "you little shit."

He smirked at his own wit and inability to permanently die; he was about to gloat when suddenly he felt the wind knocked out of him by a familiar strength.

"LOKI!" his brother cried in a relieved, yet teary voice, holding him a tight bear hug as he sobbed into his shoulder. Loki smiled fondly, not entirely opposed to the sudden increase of hugs. He returned Thor's hug warmly, attempting to soothe his brother. He supposed that Thor had not in fact been intently petting Stitch with a serious face all those hours ago because he was happy. He gave Tom an apologetic look for not enlightening them earlier.

Thor pulled back, "you died, again!"

He sighed. Do I have to go through this again? "Well, it seems it didn't last."

"I saw you die again, then disappear whilst you were reading a book!"

He chuckled at the statement, "Yes, well one must never interrupt me while I am reading a book. I just sort of reappeared again," he turned to Tom, "perhaps the next 'script' will enlighten us. They may have decided no movie was worth watching without me."

That earned a shake of the head from Tom, and a laugh, "no, or course not. Just don't ever do that again."

He smiled, "of course not."

Tom pointed a finger, "I mean it. Or I shall inform the landlady."

He shuddered, "she alone could defeat Thanos," he paused, "actually, that might wor-"

"No."

"If you insist, Thomas."