A/N: Abigail Brand, who was introduced a while back, is canon! :) She hasn't appeared in the Marvel movies, but she is in the comics. She was actually created by Joss Whedon, too!

xx

Blood dripped from Loki's lips as a detail of guards led him through the streets of the lower town.

People lined the paths, jeering and cheering and throwing things. A handful of rotten strawberries hit him square in the chest, staining the simple chemise he'd been given to wear after his regalia had been seized. Even if his lips hadn't been sewn shut, he wouldn't have spoken. What was there to say? Humiliated, he marched along, silently absorbing the vitriol.

He spotted Geva and his parents; the father, vengeance lighting his eyes, sharpened a nasty-looking blade. He smiled darkly at Loki as Geva threw a rock. "I knew you were a traitor!" the boy hollered. "My father and I are coming to punish you!"

The crowd grew and grew as they neared the square, and cheers erupted when the guard handed Loki over to Tyr.

Tyr seized his neck, forced him into the stocks, and slammed them shut. Loki's hands, split apart and separately encased in molten metal that had been poured onto his bare skin, hung uselessly in the small holes.

As Tyr listed his crimes, Loki realized that, should he want to rest, the stocks would choke him. Suddenly, he was aware of his neck, which already ached from sleeping against stone. /The blades,/ he thought wildly, /I can't hold my neck that long, don't bring the blades.../

"For these crimes," Tyr continued, "Loki Laufeyson of Jotunheim has been sentenced to life in the stocks without food or water, for the citizens of Asgard to punish how they see fit, with one restriction: you may not kill him outright."

Geva's father scowled. "Where's the fun in that?"

A smirk darkened Tyr's face. "Be creative, son of Knut."

xx

Erik Selvig ascended a metal set of steps, a very frustrated Jane Foster in tow.

"Listen, Erik, you can't pull me away from this! I'm on the verge of a breakthrough, and Dr. Smith is only here for two more days-"

"I told you. It'll only be a moment. There's someone here to see you."

"I don't /care/ who it is, you should have told them to come back-" Her protest died on her lips as Erik opened the door to reveal Thor, beaming.

"Jane," he said tenderly. "I am sorry I am so late-"

She flung herself into his arms. "Thor!"

Selvig slipped out of the room with a smile, leaving them alone.

"It was your brother, wasn't it?" came her immediate question. "Loki. All of- of what happened in New York."

Thor nodded.

"He came to see me."

Instantly, his guard went up. "What?"

"At a lecture I was giving at Georgetown, about Einstein-Rosen bridges and the Bifrost. I'm trying to convince the world that you are who you say you are, and that it's worth looking for the gateway to-" She broke off. "But- you're /here!/" As if she'd only just realized it, she took a step back, putting her small hands on his arms, a breathless smile on her face. "You're /here./"

He laughed. "Yes."

"Then you can show me the bridge!"

Regretfully, he shook his head. "I cannot. I had to wreck the Bifrost in order to keep Loki from destroying another realm. That is why it took me so long to return. I did not know another path existed until only days ago." When her face fell, he tilted her chin up. "But I have found another road, Jane. Will you come with me? To Asgard?"

"My research-" She broke off, thumb over her shoulder. Erik knew the research almost as well as she did. /Traveling/ via an Einstein-Rosen bridge would certainly yield valuable information. And to go back with Thor, to see his home- she couldn't pass this up.

"Let me fill Erik in on a couple of things," she told him. "And then you can show me your home." She leaned up for a kiss. "I'm glad you're back. I thought I'd never see you again."

Thor smiled. "No, you didn't. You are much too persistent for that, Jane."

xx

Back in the heart of New York, every man, woman, and child pitched in to pick up the pieces. Tony stayed with smaller search and rescue teams, there to lift otherwise unliftable pieces of concrete. Pepper worked day and night on Stark Tower, directing a crew of construction workers to replace and fix everything but the sign on the top, leaving the sole "A" to represent the new purpose of the building: to serve as the headquarters of the Avengers Initiative.

After a long day of working on the tower, Tony sat down with Natasha to discuss her suit. "You don't want this thing to be too cumbersome."

"Right. Aerodynamic."

"So I figured, big weapons come in tiny little packages. Like you."

She glared down her nose at him. "If you want to spend all night patronizing me, Stark, I swear to God I will rig every car in your garage to blow."

"Fair enough. Speaking of explosives, take a look at this." He held up a paper-thin metallic disc.

Expecting it to snap in half when she took it, she was amazed when it was rigid and unbreakable in her grip.

"There are actually three layers," Tony told her. "The outer shell is a steel alloy; inside is a thin layer of silver acetylide, which is highly explosive. To detonate, you twist the inner part of the disc into a locked position, and you have five seconds to throw it before it explodes."

"Good. What else?"

"It's got a proximity fuse; that means it won't detonate within forty meters of your suit. So even though the silver acetylide is incredibly sensitive, you can't accidentally set it off. Also, if someone throws a disc back at you, it won't go off."

"Impressive."

"Thank you. Now, it's been a while since I was in the weapons business," he told her, "but I am pretty damn proud of these." He handed her a small black box.

Eyeing him suspiciously, she opened it. Inside were two wide silver cuffs, each decorated with an elegant black spider. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Black Widow is your nickname," Tony explained. "You might as well own it."

She turned one over in her hand, examining it. "What do they do?"

"It's like what you've got already, but a little more advanced. They deliver electrostatic energy blasts up to 40,000 volts, and you don't have to worry about wires running throughout your suit; they're wireless. I call them the Widow's Bite."

She rolled her eyes. "Cute."

"One last thing. This-" He broke off as Barton walked in, a blonde SHIELD agent in tow, her face marred by burns.

"Tony, Nat." Barton indicated his companion. "I'd like you to meet Agent Abigail Brand."

xx

After two weeks, Jane was finally ready to take a short sojourn from her research and accompany Thor to Asgard.

"Come on! What are you waiting for?" Jane asked, a messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

Thor relaxed against the pillows, smiling. "Another last-minute trip to your laboratory before we leave for my realm, where I spend all day sitting in the banquet hall-"

"Cafeteria," she corrected with a soft laugh.

"The cafeteria, waiting for you, only to be told at the close of the day that you are too tired for the journey."

She sat on the bed. "Sorry! I just- there's so much stuff that they need to know, and I want to make sure everything is done correctly-"

He grinned. "It was only a jest, Jane. I know it is important to you. When you are truly ready, we shall go."

"Today, I am truly ready." She kissed him. "And hey, you should thank me. You've discovered a lot of food that you love while sitting down there."

"The delicacy you call "coffee cake" is, indeed, delicious." He shed his Midgardian pajamas- which he had to admit were quite comfortable- and changed into his regular clothes. "Perhaps we will send some of our cooks here to learn how to prepare Midgardian food. I would love to share some of your dishes with my parents and my friends."

"Am I meeting the parents?" Jane quipped. "Maybe I should bring a bottle of wine, or an apple pie."

The joke glossed right by Thor. "We have plenty of mead," he assured her, slipping his boots on. "All right. Shall we go?"

"Absolutely." She took his proffered arm. "I'm excited to finally see your world, after all you've told me. If the skies are as beautiful as you say..."

He covered her hand with his, smiling fondly. "I am pleased I can finally share it with you."

xx

Abigail downed her scotch in one gulp and slid the empty glass back to Tony for a refill. Impressed, he poured her another drink and gave her the bottle.

"If I ever see him again," Abigail said through gritted teeth, twisting a knife between her fingers, "I'll gut him."

"Well, Loki's not here, so someone take the knife away." Tony backed up.

Natasha glared at Tony and turned back to Abigail, concern and curiosity in her eyes. "What happened out there?"

"I've got a lot of blood on my hands," Abigail replied quietly. "I've got my own /family's/ blood on my hands. My sister, Anna Grace, is- /was/- a pilot for SHIELD. When we were under Loki's spell, we attacked the airbase to steal the Quinjet, and she was there. And I killed her. Without hesitation, I snapped my sister's neck and left her on the ground." A tear escaped her eye; she wiped it away furiously. "He made me murder my little sister. And if I see him again he'll regret it."

"What happened..." Natasha gestured to her face.

"Loki decided they'd outlasted their usefulness," Barton told her. "So he commanded them to sit still as he set fire to the building."

Natasha gaped at him. "And they /listened?/"

"Nat, do you remember what I was like?" His voice was quiet. "Of course they did."

She turned back to Abigail. "The rest of them died?"

"I passed out because of the smoke and hit my head on a pipe. When I came to, I had the sense to get out of there, but it was on pure adrenaline. I was in bad shape in the cab of a truck outside when Clint found me. If it hadn't been for him..." She shrugged. "I wouldn't be here talking to you."

Natasha nodded. "Well, we should call Fury. He'll want to know he's got an agent alive."

"I already have. He's coming here to meet with us."

"Here? Why? We aren't even all here. Steve's overseas yet, and Banner's plane doesn't get in until tomorrow morning."

"'Us' as in you, Abigail and I. She's got a proposal for SHIELD."

xx

Thor and Jane emerged from the gap of blue light and entered the little cave.

"This is Asgard?" she whispered. "We're- we're here?"

He laughed. "You were expecting more."

"Well, the way you landed on Earth was so dramatic. I thought I'd be dodging- I don't know, chariots? How do you travel here?"

"Horses," Thor provided. "But we are close enough to my home to walk." He offered his hand, and Jane laced their fingers together.

She ambled slowly through the forest, taking in the majesty of the Asgardian landscape. Thick clusters of tiny white flowers grew at the foot of the waterfall, filling the air with a sweet perfume. Above her, the trees- taller than the California redwoods among which she'd made her home as a girl- wound their leaves together in a wild tangle, doming the forest with foliage. Sunlight shone through the few gaps, illuminating the woods with needle-thin rays of light. Beneath their feet, moss and leaves carpeted the forest floor, and Jane had the urge to kick off her shoes and walk barefoot, feeling the soft, cool ground on her skin.

They took their time, Thor holding Jane's shoes in one hand and her hand in the other. She marveled at the tiny twittering birds no bigger than her nose, the cone-shaped flowers which opened and closed as if they breathed, the musical chirping of the silver-blue mice which darted through the underbrush. Thor watched her face, filled with happiness at seeing her like this.

"What are these?" Jane asked, pointing at a large bush bearing yellow fruit.

"/Karta,/" Thor told her. "The yellow ones are poisonous, but the red ones are delicious. We can go to the market to get some, if you would like."

"I want to try everything," Jane told him.

"/Karta/ aren't really very special," Thor said.

Jane grinned. "Pop-Tarts and coffee cake are very ordinary to us mortals," she teased. "I want your ordinary food."

They emerged from the forest in a discussion about delicacies, which culminated in Thor telling her stories about Volstagg and his insatiable appetite. As they walked through the lower town, Thor began to describe just how much his comrade could eat. "One time," he told her, "he, Fandral, and I went to the market. Volstagg stopped to buy some sweetmeats, and Fandral and I went on to get some fruit. When we returned, the sweetmeat shop was closing up for the day. He had eaten everything she had."

Jane laughed. "When Darcy came to Puente Antiguo, she-" She broke off, noticing that Thor had gone rigid. "Thor?"

She followed his eyes, which were riveted to a spot in the distance. "Oh, my God. Is that-"

"Loki," Thor affirmed, voice tight. "Two weeks... I thought, certainly... I thought he would be..." His throat closed, unable to form the word "dead."

Jane drew close. "Do you want to leave?"

Thor shook his head. "No. I have to see what they've done to him. I should never have left-" He broke off. "Jane, if you do not want to come, I understand."

A few nights after he'd returned to Midgard, Thor confided in Jane about what he'd done, about how he'd left Loki to face his punishment alone, about how he couldn't forgive himself, but couldn't bear to watch, either. He told her about the history of violent punishments on Asgard. But never had he thought that Loki would still draw breath after two weeks of Odin's torture.

Though she knew it could be gruesome, Jane pressed his hand. "Come on."

They walked into the marketplace, which buzzed with noise and activity. As they came closer and closer, Thor's heart hardened. If Loki was a shell of himself before, he was now a ghost, his skin sallow, one eye blackened, his bones poking out from lack of nourishment. The ragged shirt he'd been given was gone; his back had been ripped to pieces, his skin a sea of dried blood and fresh wounds, muscle and sinew visible in places. No open skin had been spared; lashes marred his legs, and someone had taken it upon themselves to brand a large rune into his arm: /fehu/, for /"forræder." Traitor./ Loki wavered on his feet, hanging from the pillory, choking as his throat pressed against the wood, fighting hard to stand. Thor saw that his mouth had been stitched shut, but the stitches had ripped out of his skin in certain places; still, though, enough of them remained to prevent speech.

When Loki recognized his brother, it was through a haze of delirium; he couldn't be sure if he was real, or if he was an illusion. He tried to speak, but couldn't; frustrated, he felt like crying, but couldn't produce tears.

Regret overwhelmed Thor, and his decision was made almost before he knew it. He seized a knife from the butcher and, fully aware that his brother might use his magic, carefully cut the stitches.

"Thor," he gasped, voice grating after weeks of disuse, barely able to form the syllable. "Water..."

He nodded to Jane, who reached into her bag and produced a bottle. Thor took it and gently tilted Loki's head back, tipping a little bit into his mouth.

Tyr stepped forward. "Your Highness, the Allfather has sentenced the prisoner to receive no food nor water-"

Thor pressed the water into Jane's hand and silenced him with a mighty swing of his hammer, rage mounting. "Is this the Asgard we want?" he roared, looming over Tyr. "A realm which tortures its own people? Give me the key to the stocks."

Loki watched his brother, heart filled with gratitude. He barely realized Jane was at his side, coaxing him into opening his mouth just a little bit for another sip of water. His thoughts were broken, but he knew Thor had come back for him. Someone, then, still cared. Someone still believed. /You are foolish, brother... I am beyond saving. I have always been./ He wavered, drifting in and out of consciousness. /Thjazi... I do not know anything... I am no spy.../ He drew in a breath, crying with no tears, shivering from imagined cold.

The market grew silent, all eyes on Tyr and the two princes of Asgard.

"I take my orders from the king," Tyr maintained.

"And someday /I/ will be your king," Thor snapped. "Give me the key or your life will be forfeit."

When Tyr did not move, Thor caught his arm and seized it from his belt. "Now go. Go back to the palace, and tell your king that he will either recognize two sons, or none."

Loki stared at Thor, shivering. "Brother... I knew you would come. The Jotuns... they won't stop..." He was seized by a violent cold chill, and reached out for something with which to cover himself; but nothing was there.

Absolutely horrified, Jane removed her sweatshirt and draped it over Loki's back.

He flinched at the contact with the wounds, but was grateful for the warmth. "You aren't Sigyn," Loki whispered, seeing her properly for the first time, "you-" He wavered on his feet, eyes closing. "She catches the poison," he explained to Thor. "She..."

"Hey," Jane whispered, putting a hand on his arm, rousing him back to consciousness. "Stay with us, okay?"

Thor fitted the key into the lock and Jane lifted the block, freeing Loki. Thor put an arm around him for support, and he winced in pain as he tried to put weight on his right foot. Thor glanced down; his foot was swollen, badly bruised, and twisted at a gruesome angle. Horrified, Thor looked back up at his brother's face, trying to find words.

Loki met his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered weakly, "for making... for that I... not looking Jotun..." He leaned heavily on Thor, swaying where he stood. "They know, Thor... they..." His eyes fluttered, and his voice grew small and childish. "Make them stop," he whimpered. "I don't want any more. Please..."

Thor held his gaze. "I will protect you, Loki. Do not worry. We are leaving Asgard." He turned to Jane. "Jane, there is a stand just down that way with a heap of hot stones. Take the pouch hanging from my belt; it bears the royal insignia. Tell the shopkeeper you have been sent by the crown prince, and fill the pouch with healing stones."

Jane nodded and hurried off.

Loki looked up at Thor with great effort. "You... you will..." His eyes closed again, and he nearly fell, but Thor's arm steadied him. "...take me away from them?"

Thor gritted his teeth. "Our father will bathe in his own blood for doing this to you, brother."