Fire.

The whole city was burning, smoldering before Loki's eyes, and he watched in horror as Thor, with a determined glare, pinned him against the wall.

"Brother, end this madness!" He demanded.

"Yes! Show me how!" Loki wanted to plead eagerly, but instead, the words that slipped from his lips were the direct opposite. "It's too late."

"No, we can end it! Together!" Thor insisted, and Loki longed to agree, to stop whatever was making the city burn, but he couldn't. "Sentiment." He scoffed, and, to his own horror, drove a knife deep into Thor's gut.

The scene changed, and Loki was standing before the throne of Odin. "What of Thor?" Loki demanded. "You'll let that witless oaf rule, while I rot in chains?" Tears stung the back of his eyes as the guards holding him backed up a little, pulling on the chains insistently.

"Thor must work to undo the damage you have done." Odin intoned. The damage? What damage? Did he mean the burning city? Loki was so confused, and, yet… this seemed right. As if Loki had done something horribly wrong. "And then, yes." Odin went on. "He will be king."

Again, the setting shifted, and Loki found himself sitting against a wall, his room surrounded by rubble, and his foot dully throbbing for some reason as he stared up with tearful eyes at his grim brother. He didn't know why he was so sad, so heart-rendingly miserable, but Thor didn't seem to care. That image flashed away quickly, to be replaced with the agonizing feeling of a sword running through Loki's body.

He woke up in tears, eyes wide in fright, his stomach still stabbing phantom pain through his insides. He lay quietly, and stared at the ceiling as Thor's snores rumbled to high heaven. What was that drem? Loki was used to having nightmares, but… he didn't even know what that was.

It had felt so real, and yet… not. Almost as if he was watching through someone else's eyes.

Trembling and shaken, he slipped out from under the covers, and tiptoed out of the room he and Thor shared, arms wrapped tightly around him. He was almost surprised to see that there was no large wound in his middle from where the sword had pierced his pale skin. He shuddered, and made his way down the dimly lit hall to the elevator.

"What floor would you like to go to, this morning, Loki?" Friday's voice spoke up as he stepped inside. Loki felt a little comforted, knowing he wasn't alone, and smiled up at the ceiling. "Hello, Friday. Um… are any of the Avengers awake, yet?"

"None that you know very well, I'm afraid." She informed him. "Although Bucky is drinking tea in the kitchen."

Loki nodded nervously. While he didn't know Bucky extremely well, as Friday had noticed, he would rather talk to his new, slightly-scary-when-in-the-middle-of-the-night friend than wake someone up to comfort him. "Could you take me to him, then?"

"Of course." Friday answered. "Are you alright, Loki? You seem distressed."

Loki shook his head. "I'm a little frightened… I had a bad dream."

"I see. Would you like to talk about it?"

Loki frowned. "I don't know… I'm not even sure what I dreamed."

"That's quite alright." Friday opened the elevator doors, and, to his glee, he found they were in the kitchen floor. "Thank you, Friday." He smiled shakily, and tiptoed out into the bright light of the kitchen.

The super soldier was sitting on a bar stool, leaning over the counter, with a concentrated expression on his face, writing something down in a notebook. He didn't notice Loki until the Trickster snuck forward, and took a sip from the steaming mug of tea by his elbow. "Well, hi, Loki." He glanced up at him, sending a disapproving look at his mug. "Why are you drinking my tea?"

"It's very good." Loki noticed, innocently hopping up on a stool beside him. "Why are you awake?"

"I could ask you the same question." Bucky sent a sly grin his way, and closed his notebook with a snap. "Wasn't your bedtime, like, five hours ago?"

Loki shrugged. "I had a nightmare."

Bucky's features softened a little. "Did you? So did I…"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Loki glanced up in surprise.

"That's okay." Bucky sighed, and rubbed his hand over his eyes. "You wanna talk about it? You seem pretty tense."

Loki took another sip of Bucky's tea, his eyes sparkling mischievously, before he sobered. "Do you ever have dreams… that you're not even sure if they're really dreams, or… something else?"

"Like… visions?" Bucky guessed.

"No, not visions…" Loki shook his head. "More like memories."

"Oh, yeah." Bucky rolled his eyes in an emotion akin to exasperation. "All the time."

Loki swallowed nervously. "I think… I just remembered something I did."

"Yeah?" The soldier prompted, kindly guiding Loki over to the more comfortable couch. "Like what?"

Loki wrapped his arms tightly around his chest. "New York."

"I see…" Bucky nodded, and patted Loki's shoulder sympathetically.

"And…" The Trickster bit his lip nervously. "I think… I think I remembered dying."

"Dang." Bucky uttered, looking somewhat impressed.

"You know how I was Respawned, right?" Loki peered up at his friend nervously.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, Cap told me. So, you remembered… dying?"

He nodded, silently staring at the floor.

"Oh." Was all Bucky could find to say.

After a moment of heavy silence, Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

Loki silently nodded.

"I don't mean to come off as uneducated, or racist, or anything…" Bucky smiled nervously. "But… weren't you blue, this afternoon?"

Loki blinked his wide, green eyes, not comprehending what Bucky was getting at. "What? Yes… of course I was."

Bucky narrowed his eyes. "You're not blue, now. Is that… a fashion choice?"

Loki glanced down at his hands in surprise to find that Bucky was right. His hands were the same pale color he was used to them being. "I'm getting my sedir back?" He breathed.

Bucky furrowed his brow. "Your what?"

"My sedir!" Loki explained, smiling to himself. "I can't use it when I'm too tired, or weak, but I'm getting it back, now!" He grinned widely, and held up his hands, as tiny sparks shot from his fingertips. "You see?"

"Oh, like… magic?" Bucky wondered, while tilting his head like a confused puppy.

Loki nodded eagerly. "Sedir is the magical core, or reserves, of a sorcerer. And mine is getting replenished! I have enough to uphold a glamour, now, so I can look normal."

"But this isn't how you normally look?"

Loki reluctantly shook his head.

Bucky frowned in confusion. "Then how is this normal?"

To be honest, that was a little confusing, and his brain was muddled from exhaustion, anyway. "Well… Jotnar don't look normal."

Bucky waved his hands to slow him down. "Wait, wait… what's a yot-ner?"

"No, Jotnar." Loki corrected. "Plural Jotun. Like a… a…" He lowered his voice, and glanced around as if someone would catch him using the term. "A frost giant?"

Bucky stared blankly. "I feel very stupid, right now."

Loki shrugged. "It's what I am. I didn't know… and I'm afraid of them. So I don't like looking like one. But don't call them frost giants, that's a racial slur, and Thor will get me in trouble if he finds out I called them – us – that."

"My lips are sealed." Bucky mimed zipping his lips, and smiled brightly as Loki giggled, then yawned.

"You getting tired, little guy?"

Silently, Loki nodded, and rubbed at his eyes. "Thank you for talking to me…" He mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, of course!" Bucky grinned. "You wanna sleep on the couch, here, or you want me to carry you to bed?"

"I want Thor…" Loki sighed, half asleep, already. The last thing he was aware of was two strong arms picking him up, and carrying him down the halls.

TheOnlyHuman.