Hey, Lunchies! It's been a while, huh? This is an AU if Loki fell from the Bifrost to Sakaar. Hope you enjoy!

Ever since Loki had fallen from the Bifrost, Thor could not help but look. Before, he was blind to the suffering and pain of others, but since that was what had driven his sweet baby brother to let go of the staff, and fall into the void, he could never not see it in others since. Even though it had been five long years.

When he'd been on Midgard, he could see Loki's fortitude in the eyes of the homeless fellows, lying in the alleys. So, he'd helped. As often as he could, he would purchase sustenance for the men, and remind them that someone did care about them.

On Asgard, he would sometimes see Einherjar on the brink of throwing away their whole lives, as Loki had, and he would talk to them, as he wished he could have for Loki, and remind them how things would always look up. They'd always be brighter at the end.

So, here, on Sakaar, he couldn't help but notice the poor soul huddled in a broken heap by the Grandmaster's throne.

The Thunderer had come to Sakaar on a visit, negotiating a peace with the planets not included in the nine realms. As Sif spoke with their leader, this Grandmaster fellow, Thor only listened with half an ear as his gaze roamed curiously around the room. Everything on this realm was extremely bright, the color scheme seemed to be designed off of what colors clashed the worst, and the attire was just plain bewildering.

But what stuck out of this whole jumbled, nonsensical heap was the figure curled in on himself, dressed in nothing but rags, face as pale as death, starved, with a mop of black, tangled hair obscuring most of his face.

Thor's heart hurt for this poor, misbegotten creature-who-was-once-a-man.

He watched as the man's pale, skeletal hand wiped dismally at his nose, and the dull, yet strikingly green eyes flicked disinterestedly up at the Thunderer and his little band. When the man raised his head, Thor could see the metal muzzle clamped around the lower half of his narrow face, digging into his sunken cheeks, and chafing at his skin. Chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, clanking depressingly when the man moved. The green eyes in that face were defeated, red-rimmed, and bloodshot, an air of hopelessness swimming through them.

Thor's heart leapt into his throat, for those eyes were Loki's.

Without recognizing any of them, the emerald eyes weaved back to the floor.

"Loki!" Thor hissed discreetly. "Psst! Loki!"

At first, the fallen Trickster didn't even respond to his name, and Thor thought his mind must have been playing tricks on him. How could Loki be here, on Sakaar, starved and broken? The Loki Thor had grown up beside would have conquered this whole place, with some scheme or another, and returned home by the end of the day. This could not be Loki.

But…

But then the green eyes widened, shot back up to Thor's, and stared disbelievingly into the sapphire blue orbs.

"Come here!" Thor beckoned insistently, and Loki sent a terrified glance at the Grandmaster, and shook his head, yet he obviously wanted to go. How he wanted, he longed to. But he obviously was not allowed to.

"Grandmaster." Thor spoke up, cutting off the king (whatever he was) in the middle of a sentence. It may have been rude, but Thor thought his heart would burst if he was kept waiting any longer.

For heavens' sake, he'd thought Loki was dead for the past five years!

The Grandmaster looked away from Sif irritably. "Yes, what is it?"

Thor froze. How was he supposed to address this delicately? He wanted peace with this realm, yet… he so desperately wanted his brother back. He had to tread lightly, here, or risk war. "Who is this?" He gestured at the silent, miserable, shaking huddle that was Loki.

The Grandmaster glanced down in surprise. "Oh, that's just my little pet." He ran a hand over Loki's hair, causing him to flinch horribly, and cringe away from the Grandmaster's fingers. "A gift from my favorite scrapper. You like him?"

Thor's mind raced like wildfire, something it was not used to doing. But, if he wanted to save Loki from this horrible man, he'd need to use all the quick thinking he could muster.

Mmmm… Mustard…

No! Thor needed to stay focused!

"Yes, he's very exquisite." Thor nodded, flashing Loki a reassuring smile. "Why the muzzle?"

"Oh, he's a biter." The Grandmaster chuckled affectionately, leaning over, and stroking Loki's face in a way that neither of the brothers liked at all. "At least he was, when we put it on. You're as tame as a kitten, now, aren't you, little guy?"

Loki shuddered, but nodded hesitantly.

"Yeah, he doesn't give me any trouble, anymore." The Grandmaster smirked.

Thor's gut churned in disgust, but he forced himself to stay cheerful, carefree, even, as if he was merely interested in Loki as he would a statue. "How long ago was that?"

"The muzzle?" The Grandmaster scratched his head thoughtfully. "Oh… not long after I first got him. So, about five years ago."

Curling his hands into fists, Thor reminded himself that it was generally considered rude to murder one's host. "Has he a name?"

The Grandmaster shook his head. "That'd make me feel guilty. No, no name." After a moment, "Hey, I'm in a good mood, today, and you seem to be interested. I can rent him to you for tonight." The Grandmaster offered, a bright smile on his face. Sif's hand brushed across Thor's shoulder, and he glanced at his friend in determination.

"We're in a bit of a run for cash." She reminded softly, though her face told Thor all he needed to know. Sf had recognized Loki as well, and wanted to help.

Thor waved a hand nonchalantly. "He shouldn't be too expensive, for just one night."

Grandmaster nodded. "You know what? I like you. I'll let you have the night for free."

Thor sent a glance to Loki, whose eyes had lit up like wildfire, and was staring in hopeful expectation at his older brother. Please, his eyes seemed to be begging, Take me away from this place.

"I'll send him to you, tonight." The Grandmaster nodded curtly.

So, he did. That night, in the hotel room, Thor and Sif were discussing the trade negotiations, when the doors opened, and Loki, led by another slave, was dragged into the room. Literally dragged. His leg didn't seem to be working, for some reason.

Thor leapt up, and raced across the floor to scoop his brother into his arms. Quickly, he undid the clasps of the muzzle, and slid the awful thing off of Loki's face.

"Thor!" Loki's weak voice croaked, and his thin, trembling arms were thrown around Thor's neck, holding him tight to his skeletal frame. "Thor!" He whispered, burying his bleeding face in Thor's shoulder, and breaking down into tears.

"Oh, Loki…" Thor gently rubbed circles on Loki's back, until the Trickster had calmed down from his exuberant joy enough to speak. "I love you, brother."

Loki sat up slightly wiping the tears from his raw, bloody cheeks. "Get me out of here, Thor, I hate it." He pleaded. "I hate it so much."

Thor held Loki's shoulders, at arm's length from him. "Loki." He began, voice shaking. "I swear to you; you will never see that monster's face, again."

"Hate to break up a tender moment," Sif spoke up. "But if we're going to have any sort of interactions with Sakaar, we kind of can't help it."

"Then we shan't." Thor declared. "No trade agreements, nothing. Honestly, I never want to see him again!" Thor brushed the dirty, unkempt hair from Loki's eyes. "Oh, just look what he's done to you!"

Lok's eyes were brimming with tears again, and an excited smile welled over his thin, emaciated face.

"Here, let's get you cleaned up." Thor gently picked Loki up, bridal style, and carried him into the washroom. "Sif, could you get some broth, please?"

"Absolutely." Sif nodded, as Thor gently lowered Loki's frail body into the tub, already full with warm water. A happy sigh left Loki's battered lips, as the gentle water lapped against his pale body. Thor discreetly turned his back as Loki peeled the tattered rags from his body, and washed the blood, grime, and unspeakable substances from his skin.

After he was finished, Thor wrapped him in a big fluffy towel, and sat him down on the bed. Sif hadn't returned with Loki's soup, yet, so Thor got to work cutting off the tangled mop of dark hair on Loki's head. They sat together in quiet companionship, the only sound being the soft click of the scissors, but the elated smile hadn't left Loki's face the whole time. When Thor got his comb, and brushed out Loki's cropped hair, a little lopsided, but far better than it had been, Loki finally spoke up.

"Home."

"Yes, you're going home." Thor smiled, squeezing Loki's shoulder reassuringly.

Loki's eyes stared at the wall, expressionless to the untrained eye. Thor, however, could see the desperate longing hidden beneath the green orbs. "It's been so long…"

"Five years."

Loki nodded.

"I thought you were dead, brother." Thor declared. Loki turned to stare in mild interest at his brother's face. "I thought you'd forgotten about me." He rasped quietly.

Thor was taken aback. "Forgotten? About you?" He gasped, and Loki silently nodded. "How?"

Loki swallowed nervously, his tongue sliding over his cracked, dry lips. "I thought…" He began, twisting his fingers nervously. "It was so easy to forget my existence, before. I thought, since I wasn't around, there would be no reason to remember."

It was this moment when Sif came back into the room, bearing a bowl of a strange broth.

"Lady Sif." Loki whispered, his eye gleaming with a strange emotion that Thor didn't entirely understand. "How are you?"

"I think I should be asking you that question." Sif returned, handing the bowl to him. "You look like you could be knocked over with a feather."

Loki greedily slurped the broth from the bowl, not stopping until it was empty. With a satisfied sigh, he set the bowl down on the bed, and stared dumbly up at Sif.

"What is wrong, brother?" Thor asked softly, stroking Loki's damp hair.

"Why do you care?" He demanded, glancing between them in bewilderment. "If I'm beaten and bruised, and nobody comes for me, isn't that better?"

Thor and Sif glanced at each in horror.

"Don't get me wrong." Loki went on. "I want to get out. I'd do anything to be rid of this place. But… why? I'm not worth you."

Thor wrapped his arms around Loki's trembling frame. It was all he could do. Loki released a confused murmur, but didn't pull away from the embrace.

"Listen, Loki." Sif spoke up, finding words where the Thunderer could not. "We didn't realize how much you meant to us until we lost you. We care about you, and we want you to be happy, even if we were never any good at showing you that, before. We want to do better, and we want to get you out of here."

"Really?" Loki's voice trembled, and his eyes were so full of hope, that Thor broke down and cried.

"Yes, Loki."

Okay… despite how nasty she is in Downwards and Rags to Riches… I really like Sif. Hope I did her justice. And, if you're wondering, yes. Thor and Sif are married, here. I kinda ship, to be honest. At least it's better than Thor/Jane. (Please don't kill me, Thane shippers)

TheOnlyHuman.