Thank you very much, CurtisMcQueen8 and WickedlyMinx, for telling me what you think about this story! Indeed, it is supposed to be much shorter than Whatever-its-name, so there is no such developped plot. I kinda took every possible direction, mostly exploring Loki's reaction to trauma in itself, and wanted more interactions with specific characters, then I wanted things to be dramatic, then funny, then sad again. I was constantly jumping from one idea to another. So yeah, I'm definitely not focused enough on one main event...

That being said, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter to some extent. Mostly about some Asgardian brothers having to sort things out.


"Brother, what a nice surprise." Loki begins, with one of the most insincere smiles he has ever bestowed "I did not expect to see you here."

"I can say the same to you." Thor coldly replies.

The god of Thunder's aura is one of carefully stabilized infuriation. He is standing right in front of Loki, who is still sat with his back against the stone balcony of the compound. A slight tip of the scale, and Thor explodes, literally and figuratively, with perhaps a little help from the Storm-breaker fella nearby.

A slight tip of the scale...

Funny, Loki can almost distinguish his rational self in front of him, adamantly saying no, no, no, not a good idea, and he thinks that he still has a rational self, life is full of surprises.

"If you're about to ask how I got out, you can directly ask your dear friend Stark here." He suggests, illustrating his statement by pointing at the door.

As soon as his Thor's gaze turns away from him, Loki stands up, leaving the illusion in place. Truly impressive, he manages to take four full steps before his brother's weapon is thrown in his way, thrusting into the wall so close to his face that Loki is perfectly able to see his own reflection in the shining metal of the blade.

The god of Mischief turns around.

"I would like to point out that you literally fell for the 'look, behind you' trick." He grins "Not very encouraging."

"You might want to choose your next words very carefully." Thor announces, which sounds like the last warning before Loki finds himself with two black eyes, not something he looks forward to.

"And will you even listen to them?" Loki mocks, arms slightly open.

"Loki, enough!" Thor roars, and as he speaks, the wind starts to blow furiously around them, prelude to what can escalate to an actual thunderstorm "No games, no tricks, no more empty words! I need one thing, and one thing only! I need the truth!"

As his brother speaks, rather, screams those words, all certainty and playfulness leave Loki's mind at once, letting settle this so familiar and so devastating sensation of... emptiness.

The truth. This is the only thing that matters to Thor, that Norns-damned truth.

"The truth, brother," Loki angrily starts, "is that I..."

And then, he stops. The truth is...

I want to go away.

I want to stay by your side.

I don't want you around.

I desperately need you.

"I..." He stammers a second time, fully aware that each second that passes makes him look more and more like a dimwit.

I feel lost.

I am lost.

I...

"I lost." Loki finally says, and these two words are the most painful he has ever pronounced, because they are unquestionably true.

"What?!" Thor reacts, visibly disconcerted, which makes the wind around them progressively decrease "What do you mean?"

"There is no hidden meaning here, brother!" Loki spits "To lose, I believe you know what this word signifies! Well, the truth is I lost! Against..."

Against everyone and everything. Against the whiteness and the silence. Against the Mad Titan. Against the Scarlet Witch. Against...

Against Thor.

The god of Thunder wins. The god of Mischief loses. This is how the story goes.

And, most of all, against himself.

Because Loki cannot change.

"How can you say that?!" Thor exclaims "Look around you, brother, we won! We killed Thanos! We brought everyone back! We saved the universe, together!"

"No, you won! You, and your Avengers companions!" Loki corrects "But I... I just... survived."

Thor lives and Loki survives. This is how life goes.

"That isn't true!" The god of Thunder claims.

"This is the truth!" Loki affirms "Look at me, Thor, and dare to say that I won!"

He sees his brother trying to objects, but not managing to. Of course, how could he? Loki is not like him. He does not escape from a fight unharmed, he does not turn the page without looking back, he is not as strong, not as confident, not as respectable.

He is not...

He is not a god.

He is...

"Look at me!" Loki repeats "This is the truth!"

He does not exactly realize what he is doing until he catches sight of his own hands turning blue, and when he does, he feels a spark of thrill down his back, galvanizing him further.

Show him. Make him admit that you are not, and will never be like him.

Thor's eyes widen. Indeed, Loki realizes, he has never seen his Jotunn form. His red eyes, his blue skin, his true face. And then, an even stronger urge comes, the one to see the king of Asgard grab his weapon and swing it right at his neck.

Do it. Tell me that I deserve it.

Don't do it. Tell me that you will never give up on me.

"Then, I..." Thor speaks "Then, I don't care about the truth."

...

What?!

"Wh-what do you mean?" Loki whispers, properly astonished.

"There is no hidden meaning here either." Thor assures, as he slowly starts to walk towards him, which makes Loki take a step backward, out of pure instinct "I don't care about the truth. I don't care about which of the Nine Realms you were born on. I don't care if we do not share the same blood. And I don't care whether or not you claim to have lost."

The god of Thunder comes even closer to him, and Loki finds himself with his back against the wall. Trapped...

But Thor does not trap him. He does not harm him. Instead, he puts his hand on his neck, like he often does when he really wants Loki to listen to him.

"You are Loki, prince of Asgard. You are my brother. And you won."

Loki cannot truly describe what happens. It feels like... It feels so good, so relieving, it feels he is not trapped but freer than he has ever been, it feels like... It feels like love?!

A part of him still winces at this very word, a part of him still screams in his ear what are you doing, you are showing your weaknesses, you are revealing how you can get hurt, you fool, you will only suffer even more, and yet, another part of him, the still fragile, only emerging, not always very sure of itself, screams back it feels like love indeed, I ought to be proud of it, because I am Loki the god of Mischief, and I am powerful, much more powerful than most beings in this Universe!

He is trapped, and he is free. He lost, and he is powerful. He is unworthy of love, and he deserves love.

He is so tired.

Loki throws himself into his brother's arms, not caring anymore about the tears burning his eyes, and letting them freely run on his cheeks when he feels Thor hugging him back.

Everything is just so out of his control that for once, what the god of Mischief and Lies and Chaos desires more than anything is stability. Loki clings to the reassuring stability of his brother's presence, which feels like the only thing separating him from insanity.

However, when he progressively gets out of Thor's embrace, relief and embarrassment equally vibrating in his chest, Loki notices that the god of Thunder is not exactly the ultimate symbol of invulnerability he likes to pretend he is.

"You're crying." Loki observes.

"I'm not crying, you're crying." Thor awkwardly smiles, fully ignoring the tear rolling from one of his eyes.

"Maybe." Loki smirks, wiping his eyes with a wave of his hand.

He realizes that he is back into his Asgardian form. A rapid glance at his brother's arm is enough to reassure himself: Thor's skin is intact. How? Why? Isn't the smallest contact with Frost Giants supposed to injure even the most resistant Asgardians?

Loki stares at his own hands for long seconds. They are not turning blue again. He is not becoming... Who would he become, actually? His Asgardian appearance belongs to him as much, if not more, as his Jotunn one. Would he be more or less Loki, depending on how he looks and how everyone sees him?

He sighs heavily. It is, indeed, going to take time.

And the drizzle is not really helping him focus.

"Thor..." Loki begins.

"What?"

"You are crying."

"Nonsense."

"It is raining again." The god of Mischief observes.

One of the downsides of his brother's powers. The more he grows, the more his powers grows, and vice-versa. His anger brings a storm, his relief dissipates it, and his sorrow is, well, adequately illustrated.

The thing is, Loki does not exactly know what to do. He has seen Thor angry, he has seen Thor relieved, but he has never seen Thor sad. And he is not talking about profound despair, the one he briefly saw when he was about to die (at least when both his brother and himself thought that he was about to die). Lengthy sadness is something else, less spectacular yet more painful to endure than a brief moment of panic.

"It didn't feel like it..." Thor suddenly whispers.

"What are you talking about?"

His brother hesitates for a long time, visibly not knowing how to answer, and certainly no more at ease than Loki.

"It just... didn't feel like I won... It feels like... Like I survived too..." The god of Thunder lets out.

This time, it is Loki's turn to be truly incredulous. How can Thor say that?! How can he even think about feeling powerless? How can he... How can he feel like he lost?

And yet, he also feels... sort of... comforted...

Because Thor, even Thor, cannot do everything alone.

He needs his brother, and his brother needs him.

"I keep thinking how easily you... got through all this..." The god of Thunder hesitantly continues, giving up on trying to pretend that he is not crying "How you never stopped finding new ways to get up, each time we failed to kill Thanos... How can you... How can you say that you lost, brother?!"

Loki almost wants to burst out laughing, yet bitterness is blocking his throat, so much that even breathing proves to be a challenge.

"Then, I guess we both are a mess." He grins, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, in a most probably vain attempt to comfort him.

Though it seems to work. A bit. In any case, the god of Thunder does not appear more dangerous than a young dog, with such a gleeful look stuck on his face that Loki must force himself not to throw a stick away and scream go fetch, just to see what happens.

"Where did you get that, by the way?" Thor inquires.

The two of them simultaneously raise their eyes to stare at the large black umbrella hovering above their head, protecting them from the rain, which is already starting to fade.

"Don't remember." Loki shrugs "But at least it was not an umpteenth Iron Man merchandise, as three quarters of this compound is. Stark has issues."

"Definitely." Thor chuckles.

Such a long time, since they simply stood together and laughed.

"I cannot remain here." Loki bluntly declares.

"Under this umbrella?"

"Thor."

"Fine." His brother smiles.

"I won't remain with the Avengers any longer." Loki tranquilly continues "Believe me when I say I do not wish them any harm. But I am not interested in assisting them either."

Taken individually, some of them are not, let's say, so disagreeable to talk to. But as a group... As a team... Loki winces. First, he has never really been much of a team player. And to this one, specifically, he would never truly be considered an equal. He would be the only one to change, to conform to what is right. No, definitely, this perspective is far from appealing.

"Yeah... They have their way, and you have yours." Thor concludes.

He nods. Though the Loki way does not necessarily mean the lonely way. After all, he has Morgan. And maybe, Som. Most of all...

"That does not change the fact that I will remain by your side, brother." Loki adds "And if you make me repeat that, I turn you into a frog again."

"You've never turned me into a frog." The god of Thunder assures.

"Mmh, living in denial must feel blissful."

Without prior warning, a thought strikes Loki like lightning.

"Also, I'll need you to get your Bifrost-summoning axe out of the door." He requests "Immediately, if you don't mind."

"What happened?"

Oh, nothing serious. He just forgot about Morgan.


When Loki and Thor, after having lost a ridiculous amount of time trying to find the right room, burst the door open (literally), the first thing they see is that Morgan is not unconscious anymore. Although, hunched with her back against the wall, her right hand on her head and her eyes closed, she has clearly seen better days.

Also, she is not alone. Both the Widow and Barton's wife are sitting next to her, and so is the aforesaid Barton. For whom "nervous" is a beautiful euphemism.

"The fuck are you doing here?!" He exclaims, as soon as he sees Loki, before turning to Thor "Are you serious?! Letting him out without warning anyone?!"

Him has a name. Loki still considers turning the archer into a pigeon.

"Do not worry, I was out long before Thor even realized it." He grins, and his satisfaction is doubled by the sight of his brother pinching his eyebrow arch.

Next, as the archer protectively steps in front of his wife and starts to yell at Thor about why Loki is here and how and when and all the rest of it, Loki crouches in front of Morgan, who has not moved an inch since he entered the room.

"Just so you know, Laura had to give her some morphine." The Widow informs him "It dulls the pain, but she might get a little... disoriented, for a while."

Showing is better than telling. Loki extends three fingers in front of Morgan.

"How many?" He asks.

She slowly opens her eyes.

"Six."

Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh.

He really cannot help it. Maybe because he is dangerously approaching his own breaking point. In any case, he is with Morgan and no one is trying to harm any of them. Plus, there is Thor in the background. So far, so good.

"You should see your face." Morgan starts to giggle.

"Not worse than yours." He mercilessly retorts.

"How romantic." The Widow points out.

Which draws Morgan's attention. She silently stares at Romanov for long seconds.

"Didn't know you had a twin." She finally speaks "Just wanna say, red-haired suits you better than blond."

Loki looks at the former SHIELD agent, who also turns her gaze towards him.

"Told you." She winces.

"Indeed." He nods.

What is exactly happening here? Is Romanov half-showing some sort of concern for Morgan, half-wanting to stick around just to see what happens next?

"It feels like I'm in a dream." Morgan continues "But I'm dreaming that I'm dreaming that I'm here. Is that weird?"

"Very." Loki manages to answer.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the Widow vainly attempting to mask her enjoyment, which does not make things easy for him either.

"Are you kidding me?! What's going on here?!" Barton's incredulous voice resonates, which is probably due to the sight of both Romanov and Loki laughing together.

"Ouch." Morgan groans, putting both of her hands on her head, visibly upset at the man's loud exclamation "Can you switch him off?"

Only too happy to comply, Loki claps his hands once, letting a spark of green light out. Next, Barton's voice is gone. For a handful of seconds, he does not exactly realize what happened, and the sight of the archer screaming at Loki with no sound coming out of his mouth is worth living for.

"Brother, give him his voice back..." Thor sighs, though Loki discerns a hint of satisfaction in the god of Thunder's voice, as the latter is apparently as exhausted as him of Barton's outburst.

Romanov, however, is everything but amused.

"Loki, stop this at once." She orders, which, obviously, is the worst thing to tell him in order to make him stop.

"Hey, don't talk to him like that!" Morgan, who has managed to stand up Norns know how, protests "Or else, I knock you out with my bike."

An intense silence follows. Loki does not exactly know if Morgan is conscious, or if she is in some sort of sleep-walking state, in any case, she looks like she is enjoying it. Good enough.

"I think I'm high." Morgan notes, in an unexpected moment of clarity.

"Of course, you are!" Barton's wife, Laura, if Loki remembers correctly, suddenly yells, before turning towards him "And you, quit your stupid game!"

Loki sighs loudly, before nonchalantly snapping his fingers.

"... gonna make you regret tha-" Barton begins, then stops, noticing that the sounds he makes can be heard anew "Oh, you, bastard, you think it's funny?!"

"Quite." Loki, as honest as ever, answers.

"I should never have-"

"Everyone, stop, okay?!" His wife cuts "Just... Just take a damn break! Nothing good can come out of this! I mean... There's literally everything going sideways here! How is Wanda..."

Her voice breaks, and she mechanically ruffles her hair, not knowing what to add. Her husband puts a hand on her shoulder, in an effort to reassure the two of them. Loki himself can taste some kind of sour taste in his mouth. What is the Scarlet Witch turning into, indeed? Is this M going to look for revenge? How to know? What to do?

"Half of the world was dead for weeks!" Laura Barton continues "And I can't even imagine what all of you had to endure! So, for once, just stop fighting! Because I can see that none of you wants to!"

She has ended her sentence with a heavy look at Morgan and Loki. She is clearly wary of him; the god of Mischief can easily tell. Which is... understandable, to put it mildly. However, he has not perceived any hatred in her gaze.

Fine. Perhaps he can afford to make them understand one last time that he is not against them. One. Last. Time.

"I'm really not trying to fight you people." Morgan precedes him, with no prior warning "First, because you would kill me, that's pretty obvious. Second, because I don't exactly see what I would gain from it. Also, sorry for being a jerk. I can't help it. Coping mechanism, and all that."

She seems to realize that everyone in the room is now looking at her with an expression of utter bewilderment. So, she turns to Loki.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"I'm afraid so." He smiles.

"I'm so fed up with all this." Barton exhales.

"I think we all are." Romanov admits.

Then, I guess we all need a damn break.