Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Marvel and their respective creators. I only own any original characters that I choose to include, as well as any original plot ideas.

Chapter 26: Too Many Unanswered Prayers

A/N: I thought this would be a bit longer, but experience shows that when the well runs dry for a chapter or I have afterthoughts, it's best to wait and to save them for future updates.

Now, odds are that I won't update again before Sunday, since I'm running off to a con with some friends, and I have a dialect performance that I need to put on with classmates for my Theatre professor to earn midterm credit tomorrow evening. I'll be around though, since we have internet at the hotel, but with everything going on, the most that will happen in regards to writing is drafting in my little black book. Although, there is a chance that I can put up another short piece for Sifki, TaserTricks, or Lokane if I end up in my room with nothing to do. Not sure how many of you have peeked at those, but if you do, you might get another one. No promises, though.

Have a safe weekend, folks!

The recommended tune for this chapter is "I Hope You Suffer" by AFI.

"What should we do with him? We sure as hell can't keep him in one place for too long. They'll come looking for him."

The place smelled wretched, like musk and rainwater and filth that hadn't ever had chance to see the light of day or anything else. His bones ached with every breath, the utter look of dismay and misery upon Thor's stupid face the only lingering source of comfort amid the dimly lit passage. Construction lighting and equipment, a sure sign that, as he'd been hunting them, their little group had been busy at work, trying to keep themselves safe. It would do little good, Loki thought, willing himself not to smile. He'd tear this blasted city to the ground soon enough, crack open the earth and find them all hiding inside.

The sound of hurried steps came from amid their quiet murmurings, heavy breaths that could have only belonged to a child. The boy rushed past him with a whimper, having appeared from out of the tunnel's darkness, promptly clinging to Stark's leg. A precious little thing, blue eyes wide with terror that only served to thrill as the god was spared that glance. He loved to frighten them, see them look to the skies in the hope that their Avengers would come to save them, carry them away. Gone were those days where children cried out for heroes, said their prayers of thanks to their false god by their bedsides each night. No more pleasant dreams for his city, his world. Only nightmares.

"You have the same look, Thor," Loki chortled, eyeing the child, probably Stark's son, shifting slightly against the restraints. He'd had his fill of chains for one lifetime. "Desperation. Fear. I love it."

A throbbing in his side, beefy shoulder slamming hard against his chest. So easy it was to make Thor lose control. He certainly played the role of Odin's choice son well enough, but he had still not learned to hold that temper of his in check. It made him fun to play, to watch him run wild and destroy, see the growing sparks of anguish in those bright eyes as the realization of his destruction dawned upon him. It was well worth it to tear Thor down this way, even at the cost of another ache like this one.

That gaze threatened him, warning, demanding that he dare not even think of harming the boy.

"Your dedication is touching, Thor. Truly. But it will gain you nothing." Eyes widened, that mocking smirk creeping in. "I rule this world. I control everything. I know all that goes on, have eyes and ears in every wall, though you may wish to pretend that I cannot see nor hear you."

"Loki..."

"I played you!" His eyes moved from one face to the next, feeding off the myriad of emotion that they allowed to radiate throughout the space. "All of you. Let you think, for years, that you were safe in your little underground, that you were untouchable so long as you remained out of sight. Thought you could hide from me, run through your secret little plans and mazes and arrive one day to take the serpent's head and mount it on a pike." There was laughter building behind those words. "How else would I have killed them, your friends? Did you think it by chance that they were caught, that it was by way of your own foolishness and lack of planning that they suffered? No."

Amusement was lost for but a moment, that throbbing ache seeping into his bones again, flesh screaming from the harsh bite of the cuffs. Those strong hands held him in place against the wall, one arm laid across his chest while the other held fast to the chain, sent spiraling shudders down his spine from the pain.

Thor still needed another push, had to be made to do something that he would so deeply regret. Something that would leave him tattered and useless. Vulnerable. Unable to lead Asgard's armies against him.

"Perhaps," Loki began, "I will permit you all to live a bit longer than initially intended." Their expressions changed, that of genuine shock overcoming anger and disdain. Curiosity, and that which he would quickly drown out. Hope. "You can watch," he said casually, "as your planet crumbles. See the fires of Hel consume the landscape, suck life from your people. Oh, but more importantly, you can watch each other suffer." A nasty grin. Loki would not curtail his amusement, hide what he had in store for them any longer. They would know, and they would live each day in constant fear. "Maybe..." His eyes fell on the Iron Man. "I'll start with those pretty little children of yours."

Were he before the throne of Odin issuing such threats, he'd have laughed the whole way through, shown the Allfather the severity of his error, the repercussions of allowing him to live. The death of his great dream, the wish to see peace negotiated and pathways between nations rebuilt in strength, trust. Love.

The boy was drawn into the man's arms. "You fucking–!"

"We are all acutely aware that I know a thing or two about monsters, Mr. Stark. But perhaps we should turn our attention to the white elephant in the room."

Oh, the way they glanced at one another, suspicion brewing, was enthralling. They were beginning to doubt, assume that the others were wearing masks, their poker faces, hiding guns under the table waiting for the arrival of the endgame. As intended, someone, his words had told them, was not quite who they seemed. And how delightful it would be for them to determine who.

A grunt, the echo of sharp heels and a harsh tone that he knew far too well running through the air, Natasha appearing with a writhing, almost swearing, man in a suit that, given how she'd smacked him around, looked as though it might begin to flake off at any given moment. Her eyes were hard as they fell upon him, and Loki knew that she had figured him out. This part of him, at least. The spider knew that he'd set the bait, that they'd fallen for it far too easily, and he could see very clearly how deeply it enraged her to know that he had managed to pull the wool over their eyes yet again. And she was like to beat him for it.

"A little walk through the park," the woman snapped, casting her captive towards the concrete floor, "and I find our dear friend having a chat with those bastard Chitauri spies."

Hirsch hit hard on his knees, the sound even causing Loki, his own pains momentarily forgotten, to flinch. A cut in his cheek, the agent looked the Avengers over, so desperately seeking a friend amid the sea of distrustful glares. But, of course, he would not be like to find one.

"You don't understand," he panted, so purposefully avoiding Loki's gaze. "I had no choice, I had to..."

"You had to betray us?!" the archer growled, stepping towards the other man. He lifted the agent off the ground, shook him about, teeth still clenched. "Or what, he was gonna kill you?! That's bullshit! We're all on the line here, Hirsch! We're all fighting just to stay alive, and you go and turn into a goddamn sell-out?!"

"Cowards," Loki sighed, "always take the easy way out."

Thor frowned, a bit of curiosity lingering his blue eyes. "Surely you do not speak of yourself, Brother." There was doubt in those words, the underlying implication that Loki himself was a coward. "The man I knew is no –"

"Were I a coward, Thor, would I have chosen this path? Would I have chosen to fight you, to take on the mightiest of the Nine Realms, snatch it out from beneath that fool Odin's feet?" Loki raised dark brows. "Does that sound the least bit easy to you?" A quiet laugh. "Surely, you don't know the meaning of cowardice, though, for all this time, you have done little more than embody it yourself."

A bow of that great golden head, though not at all in the way he would have liked. If only he could bring the God of Thunder to his knees in death, his last sight that of his once-brother towering above, god and king of the Nine Realms, wielder of the branches of the Tree and all her gifts. Loki would rule them, he had decided. Not just Asgard or Midgard, but the remainder of the cosmos as well. Born to be king, as Odin had once told him, perhaps the only truth that had ever slipped past the old man's lying lips. He would fulfill that ambition, that prophecy set about so very long ago by the weathered hands of Fate and Time. They had written it upon that parchment in the stars, solidified it in blood and ink and darkness, and it would be his. All of it. Everything.

Among themselves, they quarreled, what to do with the traitor, the liar, the thief who had managed to worm his way into their weakening collective, out them from the inside, betray them to the forces of Chaos. So surely they would come, the Chitauri, ravage the site until it was naught but dust and debris, hold to their scent, the clues, snuff them out of hiding once they dove underground again. Far swifter and frenzied would their search be were Midgard's fallen heroes to keep him in tow as well.

"You can't!" The Trickster winced at the blow, the Lady Sif's hand having risen against Thor, his expression that of genuine surprise as she had struck him. "You cannot take him back to Asgard, Thor! It is what he wants! We must kill him!"

She was right, of course, but it was all a part of the plan now. This would only be but wasted time were Loki to slip away, give War what it was she desired, the moment's satisfaction of keeping him far and away from Odin's throne.

No. He would much rather put up with Thor and his ridiculous preaching than to allow an opportunity of this magnitude to slip by.

"We will go," Thor told her curtly, "and the rest of you will remain."

"Oh, they won't be safe here," Loki jabbed. "The dear agent has already ratted them out."

"And you will not leave Asgard until peaceful negotiations have been reached, Loki!"

A frown as the prince turned away, words quiet and fading out as the serpent released a sigh. Another cage, Silvertongue thought. Asgard. But this time, escape would be far more difficult.

But they would suffer, Silvertongue thought. That much he could promise them; promise himself. They would suffer. He would stake his life on that.