AN: There's a lot of violence in this. Also, I've been looking forwards to posting this since I wrote it (many moons ago). You decide what that says about me. Annnd as for trigger warnings... Violence. And something else which is Very SpoilerTM. I've put it at the bottom (it's violence related, so if you're good with that probably okay with this too but idk your triggers). Anyway. Off ya pop and enjoy :)

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"You," The woman said and pointed an imperious finger tip at Loki's chest and he blinked.

"Me?"

A derisive snort. "Yes."

Something was nagging him, about her. He had seen her before… "Topaz?" He eventually said and did his best to hide the uncertainty in his voice.

An almost smile. "Yes. And you killed Hiroim."

Loki raised an eyebrow, slightly more confident. "That depends on whether you two were friends."

"He was a bastard and a puff. And I was about to off him anyway"

"Then I most certainly killed him," Loki plastered on a charming expression. "In cold blood, actually. Knife right between the clavicles." Somewhere behind him, the deathly silence was broken by shuffling feet.

The two opposing sides stood facing each other, Loki's smile became strained, showing too many teeth, skin stretching further until his face hurt. But then Topaz nodded; a miniscule dip of the head. "You have one minute."

Loki watched her for a moment, but there was no deception that he could see or hear. "Let's go," He said over his shoulder. When no one moved, he turned on his heel and gestured furiously. "Go! Now!"

Finally, the dimwits began running. He waited for them to pass, brought up the rear with Moth's large face peering at him even as they ran. Loki was at the door, then he glanced back at Topaz, "Thanks."

She was smiling slightly, in a cruel and cold way. "Fifty seconds."

Loki grinned back, this time purposefully putting too many teeth on display. "You will wish you'd kept them," And he was off.

It took moments to catch up and from behind Moth he could barely make out the procession's order, except for Hulk's massive back in what appeared to be the front, Valkyrie's brown hair whipping along at his side. Then Thor's head, a flash of pale, blue and gold was just visible over a large shoulder, they locked eyes then he was facing forwards again, running.

Pulled in a deep lungful of air and Loki's feet were pounding against the metal, boots tapping and arms pumping as his exhausted body fought to keep up. Why did escaping have to include so much sprinting and fleeing and general physical activity?

Up ahead, the clattering of metal. Shouting. Guards? But not to worry, apparently, as Loki ducked back from a limb as it flew through the air, spraying red across the walls and his face. After it soared the rest of a body, clad in armour and remaining arm clutching a sword. He was screaming, almost comically, and when he smashed into a wall and slid to the floor, leaving another streak of red, it was with a wet splat and the yelling cut out.

Loki let out a bark of laughter and continued, rubbed at his face in a futile attempt to wipe away the splattered blood, but only succeeded in smearing it around. Some got in his mouth and he spat it out.

Screaming and roaring. A giant, green arm was flung upwards, guard held by the feet in a fist until he wasn't and sent crashing upwards to crack into the metal ceiling. Once the corpse started to fall back down, Loki could see a dent in the metal.

As he ran, more and more there were uncountable bodies littering the floor, blood turning it slippery until he was holding out his arms to the walls, just in case. It seemed that, only a few metres ahead of him, the Hulk was ripping through a wall of combatants. Literally ripping through them, he noted as a curl of intestine somehow wrapped about his leg. The dying body let out a rough gasp, knife still in hand. With a wrench, he ripped what remained of the ropey ofal away and continued running.

But then the convoy slowed. To a jog, then a walk and Loki was nervously glancing behind him. A battle on two fronts was not a good idea, especially in a corridor.

Roaring, but this time not from the Hulk. Over Moth's shoulder, he could see Thor's golden head swaying and bobbing as he fought. Brown braids swished through the air, followed by the gleam of a blade and Loki shoved past the green, scarred gladiator. Two knives, one for each hand and he stared.

The corridor was wide enough for two to walk abreast, but only two average-sized people. Hulk was in the front, essentially blocking the way with his massive body, yelling and screaming bloody murder as his fists swung this way and that. Guards were only just starting to get past him, dodging under arms and clambering over his body when it was pinned by their sheer weight in numbers. Just behind him, Valkyrie was wielding a sword with deadly accuracy, face pinched in concentration. Then came Thor, weaponless but no less fatal for it, holding off the few which had made it past the other two before him.

But as Loki watched, the Hulk seemed to stumble. He could just make out, on the other side, a horde of guards standing practically on top of each other, shoving and pushing and with chains in hand, looped over his wrists and knees and shoulders, pulling and pushing until he was unbalanced.

And as the Hulk fell, more poured past him.

Just in front of Loki, Hon Dör was staring up what appeared almost as a wave of armour, bearing down on them. "Oh shit," She hissed and the sword was procured, flourished and held up in a guard, both hands wrapped tight about the handle.

Loki huffed out a breath. "Agreed."

Moth had a hand on his shoulder, had pushed him to the side and was suddenly grasping at Hon Dör, almost lifting her up but the horde was there.

In a moment, there was nothing but Moth's large green back to be seen. And the flashing blades and guns and beams of energy everywhere. Loki gripped his knives and was fighting. About him, the deafening yells of guards, cutting out or morphing into a gurgle as he worked, bodies like wet cardboard that he sliced through.

They fought back to back, time seeming to slow and stretch about him, blades whirring to parry and stab and whatever else was required to keep him alive, alive just one moment more alive-

Everything boiled down to that. No awareness for anything else. He was aware - so aware - of the air slicing past him, the millimeters between a blade and his neck, even the iron smell and taste of blood in the air. It was all so sharp and pressing in, as if an electric current had been connected to his nerves.

A flash and red, arcing through the air for his head. Mesmerising, the bolt of energy soared through space he had been moments prior, splashed harmlessly into a wall. The guard that had fired it was close. Loki pounced upon him, from his previous position - blades up, pushing back against a sword aimed for his neck. Up close and personal, the far taller creature's collarbone at eye height. Both daggers plunged into the skin under his breastplate, up into lungs and out again in a rush to duck, a puff of air his only warning. Whilst they screamed, he was utterly silent but for the swish of fabric and squeak of metal on metal. An axe head chopped into the breastplate, brushing his shorn hair, caving it in and sticking there. Before he could retaliate, there was a spear to knock away, a poleaxe to grab and snap and he was just reacting.

React, react, react. Whenever there was an opportunity, his daggers dipped in and out, making guards into corpses until he couldn't move without tripping, not to mention how the blood coated everything, a slippery carpet of gore.

Scream. But a familiar one.

"Oh shit. Fuck-fuck-fuck!"

Moth at Loki's back was suddenly further away and he scrambled backwards. They couldn't be surrounded. That was death.

Then he and Moth were separated, but not by more guards. With what little attention he could spare, he recognised the small form now between them. She was curled in on herself, mask no longer white but grey with dirt, brown and red with blood. Fresh and drying.

Turned back to the fight just in time, bent to the side and avoided a diagonal slice downwards. Would have cleaved him in two.

Now he had a little bit of distance. Or seeing Hon Dör collapsed on the floor had somewhat broken him from the battle stupor and he could see there were less. It felt like there were less, at least.

The knife's edge his senses had taken on dissipated.

"Hon Dör?" He called over his shoulder, reluctant to let the guards out of sight. No reply. He counted them. Only five remaining - certainly less. "Hon Dör?"

"Y-yeah. I'm good. Just get th-those bloody shit-headed, bastard-!"

Loki didn't hear more of what seemed to be an impressive train of expletives. Roaring and charging; his short respite was over.

But whatever she had said, and was still saying, had evidently enraged them for the swings were wide and Loki could step into them, drag his knives through fabric and flesh, twist away to knock aside blades and get behind another guard, cut through tendons and arteries.

And then they were gone.

The last fell with a thump.

A quick scan and all looked very dead; no more appeared around the distant corner. Loki turned, sheathed his daggers and dropped into a crouch beside Hon Dör. "What happened?" He was asking, the cries of battle continuing around. Evidently, he had had less to deal with than the rest of their merry band.

Her head was leant against the wall and there was far more blood than he remembered seeing when she was first wounded. Hon Dör made a weak gesture and he could see tears on her neck, dripping down, creating clean tracks of skin. Loki followed where her finger had vaguely pointed. And stared. Because her legs ended just above her knees.

"That's not good," He whispered. "Moth. Moth!"

Not as many cries now. And the green gladiator seemed to have finished with their lot and bent down, almost immediately seeing what was wrong. But they didn't look nearly as concerned as they should have.

"She'll bleed out. I don't know how to dress amputation!"

They just shook their head. "She won't. I have a leg, the other was bent beyond use. Can I refit it?"

"She's not a bloody android you utter buffoon!"

A weak laugh and Loki glanced down at Hon Dör. "Look at that! You do care."

He scowled. "I am offended by the idiocy more than anything you pair of useless pri-"

"Double amputee, Luke. Not going to bleed out, you utter buffoon." He could hear the smirk in her voice and Loki wanted to slap himself.

Moth proffered the leg, she nodded, and he only got a glance before they were attaching it. A long strip of metal, probably supposed to be white but badly stained by dirt and blood. It looked nothing like a leg, and whatever machinery had been present before it was ripped off seemed to have stopped working and the joint was now bent, about fifty degrees. Once it was fastened on, the robes, now ripped, hid it completely from sight. No wonder he hadn't noticed.

Loki raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised. But it did explain her unnatural speed despite being so short.

"The prosthetics aren't made small enough for pinky fingers. Sorry," Hon Dör said, her voice laden with pain but still making an effort to be light.

He shrugged and glanced back the way they had come. Still no followers. Topaz couldn't be far off - they'd had more than a minute now. "We need to move…"

"Genius intellect you have there, Luke," Hon Dör gasped as she slowly righted herself and began to stand, balancing precariously. After a moment, Moth's arm wrapped under her shoulders, leaning over uncomfortably to accommodate her shorter stature.

Finally, the guards seemed to be all gone and progress started again, though far slower than before. Loki took up the rear once more, looking over his shoulder every few paces. They picked over bodies and parts of them until the floor was clear. A corner and, before turning it, Loki glanced back at the massacre. It spread along most of the corridor and footprints trailed from it, one set ending at his feet.

Then, just as he was about to continue walking, he saw a glint of armour at the opposite end. And it wasn't on the floor, but standing, walking. Squat and broad, coated in gold, though not flashy.

"Time's up!" She yelled down the corridor.

Loki was running before her words had finished echoing. Thor was looking back at him. Checking for a betrayal, most likely. "Topaz just rounded the corner."

"They aren't far behind. Let's go," Valkyrie said after a moment, voice grim. She shot a calculating glance at Hon Dör, who was slowing them considerably, but then Moth caught her eye and a scowl came over their face, which seemed to open deep, dark crags in the emerald green skin and their eyes narrowed into slits. Loki rather agreed with the expression. She quickly looked away. "Hurry."

Moth dipped their head, then glanced down at Hon Dör. Loki resisted the urge to peer around the corner. "When will that heal?" He asked, distracted.

"I… Months. Irrelevant, don't you think?"

Moth reached down without warning and grabbed her, one arm wrapped gently about her thighs and the other supporting her back until they swiftly swung her into a bridal style carry. She hissed and more tears slid onto her neck from beneath the mask.

And they were trotting along. Each couple of steps, Hon Dör would flinch and Loki found himself wanting to distract her. "I didn't even notice you had prosthetics," He finally said, in between glancing behind them every few seconds.

"I was a Princess. Only the best," She huffed out a sigh, bent her head to the side and pressed her forehead into Moth's chest. "Fuck, that hurts."

Loki wasn't good at comforting people. He never had the need to. "You'll heal," He offered. Looked back again. No-one was visibly in pursuit just yet, but he could now hear the echoing footsteps of what seemed like an entire army.

"We will get you out of this," Moth said, their attempt sounding far more reassuring than Loki's. "Hang on."

"Hanging," She replied, terse with pain.

But it didn't take long. They only encountered a few more guards, which were promptly torn to shreds by the Hulk.

Then they exited the building.

It was through a side entrance, evidently completely unused and even the alley it opened up onto was utterly deserted. Loki was the last to exit and, despite the awful smell, took in a deep breath and allowed himself to indulge in staring up at the sky, dark and overcast, but there.

He stood stock still but only for a moment. They ran down the alley, Hulk in the lead. Bustling streets and Loki was about to denounce them for fools, running out into a busy city with someone who was essentially a celebrity. But then there was a cloth being shoved into his hand, Valkyrie glowering at him for a moment, then handing out more. Above them, a clothesline hung empty.

Wrapped in bedsheets and blankets, the Hulk was far less imposing. And hopefully less recognisable, too.

No time to plan, they were off again, like a procession of the homeless as they slouched through street after street. People wore elaborate costumes and even face paint. Every few steps, Loki was bumped and shoved, but he was far more worried about the Hulk. He didn't trust the beast to keep his anger under control.

Against the odds, they made it. All of them, with no complications. Remarkable.

At the outskirts of the city, they slowly removed their makeshift disguises and walked out onto a massive mound of rubbish. It towered above them, a mountain range of refuse, with a stench that explained how deserted the city fringe was. High up and far below, small crowds of urchins picked over the newer pieces, occasionally crouching to inspect whatever they found.

"It's in there?" Thor asked, and there was no need to see his face to know he looked mildly disgusted.

Hulk shrugged noncommittally and Valkyrie sighed. "Let's get started."

It didn't take them as long as Loki had feared, but they were trawling through the muck for far too long, since even a moment spent in such a dump was almost unbearable. What truly worried him was the vessel they were trying to find. A mortal contraption, which had somehow made its way to Sakaar? Through space and most likely a portal… It couldn't be in good shape and, unlike the Hulk, he and Thor weren't invincible. They could survive unprotected in the depths of space for periods of time, which had been proven when Loki didn't perish to the Void... But stay sane and conscious enough to pilot a ship? No.

When they found it, Valkyrie yelled from the crown of a hill, looked down at the rest, spread out over the heap. She waved her arm a couple of times once heads had turned in her direction and disappeared over the top, into some nook in the hill.

Loki scrambled upwards, Moth carefully treading along behind him, Hon Dör held almost above his head to keep her from touching the germ-covered rubbish. If she contracted a disease from here, there was nothing they would be able to do to save her. Short of Odin miraculously gaining a conscience and returning Loki's connection to Yggdrasil.

Once he arrived at the top, Hulk had already slipped down the other side, uncaring for the sharp shards of metal and rotting food. Thor was already standing at the lip, staring down. More of the same; miles upon miles of dull gunmetal with scraps of discordant colour spread amongst the wreckage. And nestled between a giant boulder and the ribcage of some long-extinct creature was the quinjet.

Thor glanced across at him. "At least it's actually here," He commented blithely, with a half-smile which Loki couldn't tell if it was real or forced.

"Perhaps you won't decapitate your grandfather's statue this time," He said in response, tone far warmer than intended.

His brother continued watching Loki from the corner of his eye, a bemused look on his face, but when he pretended not to notice the scrutiny, Thor started on his way down the steep hill. He followed after a moment, carefully slipping down, pieces of unidentifiable rubbish tumbling away beneath his feet.

Once at the bottom, Loki glanced up to see Moth slowly following, their face scrunched in concentration. Once they made it halfway down, he strode towards the quinjet and entered through the opened ramp.

Thankfully, there didn't seem much wrong with it, from his limited knowledge of Midgardian vehicles. No wires hung sparking from the ceiling, and he couldn't see any obvious hull breaches. Further in, Valkyrie was just ducking into the cockpit and Thor was attempting to talk to his supposed friend.

"Moth, they're coming!" Loki heard from outside, followed by crashing as the gladiator sped up, large feet sending pieces of metal flying as they all but ran the last few metres to the bottom of the hill.

Loki looked up, to see glinting armour at the very top, then the flash of a muzzle and he ducked back inside for a moment. Ran outside without thinking and grabbed Hon Dör from Moth, sprinted back up the ramp, ignoring how the floor next to his feet exploded. He was in and set her down, rougher than necessary.

"They're here," The Prince said, nearly a shout. "Valkyrie, can you close the door?"

Her head poked out of the cockpit, "These mortals can't make a ship for shit. So no, I can't!"

"Great," He hissed, glanced out the open ramp again. A few were a quarter of the way down, with more coming over the top each moment.

Hon Dör groaned as she shifted where he had set her and slowly levered herself into a chair. Moth came in from outside, burn marks and what appeared to be a small hole adorning their chest. But after a second in which they didn't collapse, or even acknowledge the damage, Loki turned away again. Good to know that they hadn't been boasting when they claimed they were hard to kill. They knelt next to Hon Dör, bare knees thudding against metal and spoke in a hushed voice. Ripping of cloth and a whimper of pain. He looked back for a moment to see their large hands carefully binding a stump, which had only a few cuts on it, considering a prosthetic had been ripped clean off.

Without closing the door, they were very vulnerable, especially Moth and Hon Dör, one without functioning legs and the other caught up in healing. Loki hissed a curse as he squeezed into the corner, where he should be safe from any projectile.

A bolt of energy whizzed through the air, splashed against the wall just above Moth's head and they flinched, but continued bandaging, undeterred. Another muttered curse and Loki was out from cover, ran a few paces to cross the ship and grabbed onto a chair back, ripped it out with a heave and was back at the entrance.

Behind him, Thor and Hulk were huddled in a corner, his brother's voice lifted in a pleading note. Normally, Loki would be the one trying to convince a powerful ally to their side, but he could play Thor's role of protector, if only for a short while.

He planted himself in front of his cellmates, lifted the chair back. Since it was some form of alloy, hopefully the same as used for the walls, it should disperse energy from whatever guns the guards were using.

Shots fired and the whining of projectiles, bullets this time. With an anticipatory wince, Loki shoved the makeshift shield up and shrunk behind it, almost cowering, but the metal held. He felt pings on the other side as bullets ricocheted off. Then a higher pitch sound as he poked his head above it for a moment, only to see a bolt of green heading straight for him. Twisted to the side and it only scored his cheek.

Loki hissed but was moving again. Dancing away from the crackling lights splashing onto the floor where he had been a moment before. Brought up a hand to wipe away the fresh blood now on his cheek, mixing with caked on, dried gore from only half an hour before. But he had no time to worry about it. Blood-borne diseases were for later, if he managed to survive this.

"I could use some help!" He yelled over his shoulder, bringing up the shield again, shoulder thrown behind it as he rocked back, multiple shots hitting at once. "Unless you want to be enslaved?"

Thor scowled back at him. "Without Banner, we're not going to be able to work the ship to get out of here. You're doing fine!"

"I am not doing 'fine'!" Loki almost screamed back. He was too fucking tired for this. Another bolt got past the shield, but whoever fired it had terrible aim. He turned back to the hill outside, now swarming with guards, most of them with guns out but he could see some starting to pull out melee weapons. "Your death is here!" He snarled at them. Because he would slaughter every single one if he had to. Wanted to.

What felt like hours, but was only minutes, then he heard a surprised gasp come from behind him.

"I-..." The voice said. High pitched with confusion and panic, but deep enough for a human man. "Sokovia! The city. Did we save it?"

"I thought you would never get through to him," Loki snarled over his shoulder. His seat back was dented and fracturing, sharp metal biting into his hands, nearly drawing blood.

Banner was gasping on the floor, when he turned slightly to check that Thor had, in fact, succeeded. He was staring at Loki, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. "You- you're Loki! What did you do to your hair? And your face!"

Loki hissed. Turned back to the entrance. Guards were becoming less shy, and had started attacking straight-on. There was no time to swap weapons, so he was stuck whacking them over the head with a chair. Which wasn't very effective, but utterly exhausting. "None of your business. Operate the ship, would you?"

"You're a mass murderer! And alien invader!" Was the response, accompanied by shuffling backwards. Loki hadn't the strength to hold back his snort as he leant into the chair back, ran a few steps and barged into an approaching enemy, effectively knocking them back down the ramp.

Behind him, Moth was huddled over Hon Dör, still carefully tending her wounds, but also acting as a meat shield, back now littered with open burns. If all the bolts aimed at them had hit, they would undoubtedly be dead already, but Loki wasn't a miracle worker, and this was the first time he'd so much as touched a truly defensive weapon in centuries.

More talking from Thor and Banner, not hushed, but too quiet for him to hear over the battle. Then shuffling and dull thuds, scrape of fabric across skin and padding footsteps. Hopefully the mortal had seen sense and gone into the cockpit. Loki couldn't keep this up much longer.

Then a loud creak as another chair back was ripped from the wall and Thor was next to his brother, impromptu shield hefted. "Banner's doing it now," He said quickly.

"You actually got through to him?" Loki was shoved backwards for the distraction by another guard, wielding a battle axe, but swiftly kicked their legs out from under them, plunged his boot down on their head with force.

"Natasha did, she left a recording on the ship's computer."

A pause, filled only with quickened, panting breaths as they defended the ship's entrance, hail of bullets and bolts and now melee attackers.

"Sokovia?" Loki managed to puff out, sweat gleaming on his forehead and dripping into his eyes.

Thor laughed, but it was more of a wheeze. "A robot wanted to wipe out all life on Earth."

"Sounds fun," Loki twisted, appearing to wind up before flinging his weight behind a blow, knocking straight into a guard's face. He could hear teeth and bones cracking. "Invite me next time?"

But before that can of worms could be opened, Banner's voice called over the battle. "It won't fly!"

"What?" Thor yelled back.

Loki snarled, "This is why I make the plans, Thor!"

"Forgive me for not trusting you," He growled back, batted a guard aside and blocked an incoming energy bolt with barely a thought. "Banner, are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Came the reply. "There's no way. Thrusters and hull integrity and-"

Loki didn't hear the rest. Hon Dör was closer and far louder. "Luke, didn't you have a back up?"

He glowered at her, but Thor had heard.

"Loki?!"

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut for just another second?" He said, malice in his voice and brow furrowed, eyes slitted. "Yes, I have a plan, Thor. Now shut up and let me concentrate."

Loki flung his shield away, slid behind his brother and grasped him by the shoulders, felt tense muscles unyielding beneath his fingers. "Didn't plan on using this to fight, but I should have known I'd be picking up after you."

Something from the body in front of him but the Prince ignored it, tightened his grip and concentrated. Focused inwards, past the constant ache of overexertion in his muscles, cuts and burns on his skin, the gash in his cheek and to where his magic was. Nothing seemed wrong, except for when he pulled upon it, felt it sieve through metaphysical fingers.

But now, with a connection to someone who was still strongly rooted in Yggdrasil… Loki smirked. Even if Thor didn't practice anything remotely arcane, he was a son of Odin and Frigga, two of the most powerful magic wielders to live for millenia. His connection to the World Tree was strong, if unused. And the thousands of years they had spent together forged a chain between them, making what Loki was about to do even easier.

Shaking with anticipation, he reached into the energies of the world about them, felt how he could twist and shape them, fire and ice at his fingertips. But this time, when he wound those delicate threads into a shape and set it out to the world, they held where he placed them, became physical and real.

Even as he heard sudden screams echoing in front of him, mixed with the crackling of flames and roars of pain, Loki felt his remaining energy drain away and the link between him and Thor crumbled within seconds.

When Loki reopened his eyes, swaying on his feet, leaning heavily on his brother, beyond the quinjet was a vastly different view.

Instead of armour-clad enemies, only charred remains. Some were still alive, just about, writhing on the floor, most of their body collapsing and the other half blackened beyond recognition. One by one, these few survivors stilled, their rasps quietened and it left an utterly silent, motionless scene.

"Oh- Jesus Christ…"

Loki blinked slowly at the massacre. He swayed once more and stumbled, felt clouds beginning to gather in his head and his eye sockets, muffling the world around him until he was light and exceedingly heavy all at once. And then the pounding headache set in and he groaned, pressed the palm of his hand against his temple. "This," He said, voice slurred, "Is why it was a back up plan."

"You could do that in New York?" Came a voice, then there was a round-ish, lined face above him with fuzzy edges. Loki blinked again. When had he lay down?

His tongue was thick and the face which he should recognise was jabbering on about something. "Yes," He couldn't pronounce the 's' properly; his lips seemed to lock in place as he spoke, extending it. "Thought it'd work to tele-... Telep-." His face scrunched up, despite something in the back of his mind telling him that he shouldn't. "Move me an' some somewhere. Safe."

Then a more familiar face, tanned and with gold hair and pinpricks of blue. Loki felt a smile wash over him. "What did you do?" Thor was asking, but with a chuckle, as if reprimanding him for a particularly mischievous or taxing spell.

"Are you thinking this situ-." He scowled at his own sudden inability to speak. "Is funny?"

More laughter. "No, it's very serious." Then a hand on his cheek, which was far too hot and he would have flinched away if he had the energy. "Now. You rest a second." A more serious expression and then he could only see the underside of Thor's chin. He was looking up and talking to someone. "Whatever he did, it took a lot."

A woman's voice. Loki was staring up at the ceiling, drifting in almost-sleep. "So? We need to move. He'll be fine."

"If he can't talk straight or maintain that illusion… It's important to him. We need to wait." Thor's chin was moving up and down.

Two figures, one tall and the other short, appeared at the edge of his vision. "We wait," The tall one's face seemed to be moving, but it was hard to tell with everything so blurred.

Loki floated as the words swam around him, and his stomach felt warm, a soft glow in his midsection which he couldn't identify. Soft grays, with shapes moving back and forth occasionally, flitted around like fireflies. He let out a soft sigh, felt tension and aches slowly evaporate away into a fine mist and disperse with a soft breeze.

Comforting arms wrapped about him, but he knew somehow they weren't real. On a puff of slight wind, the scent of honey and a hair tickled his nose.

I am so proud of you, my son…

About him, the slowly undulating colours seemed to pull back into concrete forms as his eyes began to open. Loki hadn't realised they were shut.

Never forget I am proud of you.

The words dispersed as he blinked once, twice and stared up at the ceiling.

Hands came down and grasped him, pulled him up and suddenly Loki was upright, head spinning and legs unsteady. "Wha-?"

"You passed out," Thor's face was in front of his, a slight smile creasing around his eyes. "And couldn't speak."

He nodded after the room stopped spinning. No time to dwell on how embarrassing that was. If Thor ever mentioned it again, that promise to not attempt fratricide may be broken. "Is there another ship? Valkyrie?"

"Mine's too far away. And will be guarded," She picked at her fingernails for a second, then looked back up. "I'm not the first Scrapper to try and help some sorry bastards."

Thor huffed out a sight but didn't look too put out. "We can break through."

But before she could reply, Loki butted it. "I know a ship… Valkyrie, will all the guards be stationed at yours?"

"Probably. Why?"

"Because the Grandmaster has a spare orgy ship in the hangar. If they're so concerned with you turning traitor…"

Thor smiled, "Then it'll be undefended!" Then he seemed to think over what his younger brother had just said. "Loki you didn't."

He couldn't stop the half-snort, half-laugh that burst from his throat at the expression on Thor's face. "Not to worry. When they tried, I murdered the Grandmaster's lover."

Eyebrows well into his hairline, the Crown Prince stared at Loki for a moment. Then he grinned, an angular expression which suited his younger brother far more than himself. "Good."

And with that they were off. Loki stumbling along, but this time in the middle, with Thor and Moth behind him. He and Hon Dör supported each other, only just managing to remain upright. She would shout out directions every time there was a junction and Banner, trotting along just in front, was glancing around in wonder, then back at Loki warily. He ignored the mortal studiously.

"You can teleport?" Hon Dör asked out of the blue during a lul, where the streets were mostly straight and Valkyrie knew the way.

Loki nodded. "The backup."

"Impressive."

He managed to chuckle. "You really should visit the Nine if you think that is impressive."

"And you should visit places that think it is," She said, "Because this Nine of yours doesn't seem to appreciate it."

Loki sighed, but decided against arguing. He had the feeling she wouldn't listen.

As he had predicted, there were very few guards at the Grandmaster's palace-skyscraper. Only two at the entrance they had used to escape, and almost none in the halls. Those that they did encounter were efficiently dealt with by Valkyrie, walking proudly at the front of their procession.

They marched on, through dead white halls and the occasional crowds. Everything seemed quiet. Seemed.

As they rounded the final corner, Valkyrie froze. She slowly began to back up, but Banner was walking too quickly to stop and bumped into her, causing a loud step forward to maintain balance. Which alerted whatever it was that caused her to stop dead in the first place.

Clinking of armoured heads turning, then utter silence. Followed by an almighty roar, from what had to be a hundred throats as boots began to thump, tempo and volume increasing as they grew closer.

Valkyrie was saying something, but she was utterly drowned out. No words were needed; Thor and Moth pushed past Loki, nearly unbalancing him and moved to her side. Banner was peering round the corner, then Valkyrie was talking to him, mouth opening and shutting rapidly, teeth flashing. He seemed to be straining, face went momentarily green, then he slumped, shook his head and she glowered.

Loki shifted his weight and helped Hon Dör lean against the wall before following suit, digging his daggers out. Glanced down to see she was weaponless. "You had a sword."

"Dropped it. If you hadn't noticed, my legs were ripped off."

After a moment of fumbling, he was holding out a dagger by the blade, grip proffered. When she didn't seem to see it, he waggled it a little. A small hand came up and wrapped about it. He let go, almost expecting it to drop to the floor, but she held on.

Attention back to the situation at hand, and Loki watched his trembling arm with vague disinterest as it held up his remaining dagger in a clumsy guard. Just ahead of them, Valkyrie, Thor and Moth were already fighting, blood spraying and bodies flying. Banner stood between the two groups, nervously looking back and forth, straining every few seconds, but never succeeding at whatever he was attempting. It was at the back of his mind, but everything seemed clouded, fogged up by spider webs and he could barely think clearly.

Fighting. Sounds of fighting.

It continued on and on, nothing changing until Thor was moving. Running. Back to them. "We're going!"

A lethargic nod and Loki was supporting his own weight again, senses coming back slowly, adrenaline starting to burn away the cobwebs in his brain. He grasped Hon Dör by the shoulder and helped her up, leant her against him and began to walk, no longer staggering along but arm still trembling with exhaustion whenever he tried to lift the dagger.

Thor strode in front of him, back to where Moth and Valkyrie were holding the line and broke through, the three able-bodied warriors creating a cocoon about Loki, Banner and Hon Dör.

It was terrifying.

He could see through the gap between one body and the next, watched as the enemy threw themselves against their protectors, rebuffed and tried again. Blades and staffs and bolts of light would shoot through momentarily unprotected gaps, ruffling his hair and glancing across his armour. Loki shuddered, but kept moving, dagger slashing feebly whenever an arm poked through.

But they got to the door; a miracle. If he had had the time, he would have thanked the Norns.

Thor was closest and worked on the unlocking mechanism, large fingers fumbling and unsure. Banner yelped - something had struck him. Loki glanced over after a moment, reaction delayed through exhaustion and was glad to see the mortals still upright, clutching at his side but with no blood visible. Probably just badly bruised.

An enraged yell and crackling of electricity as Thor pounded a fist into the offending keypad, ripped wires out. Swish as the door opened, but only for there to be more whines of weapons powering up.

Time seemed to pause.

More whines of weapons powering up.

On the other side of the now opened door was a battalion. Waiting for them. With weapons aimed and ready to fire.

Thor stood in the doorway.

Unprotected.

If they fired, he would die.

Loki could see fingers tightening on triggers, squeezing, bolts flinging from muzzles and into his brother's body, blasting holes straight through and vaporising his blood. The puzzled look on his face as he collapsed to the floor. A soft gasp as he realised what had happened. Perhaps accusatory, since Loki hadn't done anything to stop it.

Automatically, reached for his seiðr. It drained away. No time to grasp Thor, make use of his connection. Then deeper, completely uncontrolled. It wasn't a choice, trying to pour his very essence into the magic, to make it work; save him, save him! And it pulled, tugged, snatched away his breath and incredible pain as there was no air in his lungs, no blood in his heart and Loki didn't know if he'd be alive by the end of this.

He had vowed Thor wouldn't die!

But.

Moments after the thought entered his head, he decided. No hesitation, Loki wrapped an arm about Hon Dör's waist and coiled up, flung her.

Forward. Across Thor's chest.

Loki followed, slid up behind his brother, wrapped arms about and grabbed Hon Dör by her wrists. Pulled until her back was flush with Thor's chest and ducked his head.

Shots.

Whining and an agonised scream, high pitched, loud enough to hurt.

Loki was braced against the impacts, but he felt Hon Dör's wrists jerk in his grip and how Thor was shoved back. Volleys of shots.

Then no more and the screaming stopped.

Roar behind him and a blur of green. In moments, the firing squad was bowled over, guns scattered over the floor.

But Loki was concentrating on how Thor was breathing. Breathing. Hon Dör wasn't, but his brother was. And that's what mattered.

Dragged him aside, into the cover of the wall just in case. Released Hon Dör's wrists and let her flop to the ground, body unrecognisable except for the mask. Which was completely cracked now, one half missing to reveal amber eyes, wide with shock, dull in death, above scarred cheeks and thin lips.

Thor was covered in her blood and Loki's hands couldn't stop wiping it away until his wrists were caught. "You're alive," He said, rushed, out of his mouth, before he could pull in a gasping breath to collect himself. It was oddly monotone, given the situation.

No response and another breath. Calmer. He wrenched his wrists from Thor's grip and managed to look him in the eyes. "Trust me now?"

"You just used your friend as a meat shield…!" Thor hissed, eyes blown wide and hands running through his hair, catching on pieces of gore.

"At least she won't call you a 'dickwad' now," Loki replied, affecting nonchalance. Then turned away to see the firing squad utterly decimated and the battalion from the hall similarly destroyed.

Strode to the waiting ship that he remembered, typed in a PIN and watched as the ramp descended. Gave him time to calm his racing heart. Filled his lungs, then emptied them and repeated. Listened to the metal creaking as it lowered, filled himself with the sound and reminded himself; Thor was alive.

That was what was important.

Loki hadn't held him as he died. Hadn't been forced to look into those blue eyes as they dulled and watch as the glow of his innate Æsir magic faded. Not just yet, and not ever if he had an option.

Then the ramp was lowered and he strode onboard, fingers flicking over the switches automatically, puzzling out how it worked. Back to the ramp and Moth was holding Hon Dör's corpse. Fat tears, visible even from where he stood, dripped from their nose and onto what remained of her mask.

"We don't have time," Loki said, "Get on."

And the stupor which had overcome the group seemed to break. Thor first, blinking away shock. When he passed Loki, he paused, stared at him for a moment, then dipped his head slightly. Not in respect but something else. Acknowledgement, perhaps.

Valkyrie simply strode past him with no indication that she even saw him, though Banner also stopped. He hesitated for a moment, but decided to speak. "When I saw you protecting them on the quinjet… I hoped maybe you'd changed. For Thor's sake." He was about to say more, but continued into the ship instead.

Last was Moth, standing at the foot of the ramp, blood splattered across their torso and staining their loincloth. In one hand, the remains of Hon Dör's mask.

When they didn't move, Loki sighed. "Come on, Moth. You can't stay here."

"Why?" They said, simple and void of emotion. Usual friendly smile utterly gone and voice flat.

"Because it was my brother or her," He found himself saying, hushed. "And no matter what he's done. Thor is my brother," Swallowed, "I thought him dead before. It is the worst time in my long life and I will not repeat it."

Moth continued staring, then turned and walked away. Skirted bodies and headed to the door they had entered.

Before he could stop himself, words were tumbling out again, "I'm Loki. Not Luke. Loki of Asgard."

They didn't turn around, just stopped. Then continued on.

Loki ignored how his gut wrenched. From inside, he could hear Banner and Thor arguing over which controls were for what and his fists clenched at his sides.

He was escaping.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

AN: Trigger Warning: character death (prominent side character).

Reviews give me strength and so does angst and character pain, evidently.