They didn't say anything while they walked. The sun rose and the city woke up around them. Vendors began setting up their carts. Young men and women shouted about the newest forms of entertainment. A middle aged man stumbled past them and nearly walked into oncoming traffic. And old women who was in need of a cane stopped and squinted up at the building numbers every so often. Vincent walked past it all as he held tightly onto Loki's arm. Loki simply followed along.

Eventually Vincent stopped and jerked Loki back so he wouldn't keep going. "Look," he ordered.

After a moment Loki looked up. They were in a park. This park had only one or two pathways, instead it was mostly lush green grass. The trees were small, practically saplings, but their colors were beautiful. The leaves hadn't fallen quite yet. The leaves were the colors of muted sunshine, ember, fiery sunset, and freshly steeped tea. And, there was no one else currently in the park.

Before Loki could have the chance to ask anything, Vincent took them a bit further into the park. They stopped in front of a flat grey rock which seemed to be securely placed in the ground.

"Seventy four casualties. Seventy four civilians and police officers died that day because of you and what you did. The total rises a bit if those killed in your arrival are included too but of course they can't be. If they were included than SHIELD would have to acknowledge their status as agents. My Mom can't even be acknowledged on this little plaque. After years of her life she died protecting Earth from things like you and all she gets is a cold corner to be forgotten in." Vincent had tears running down his face by the time he was finished. He refused to acknowledge them. Instead he let go of the painful grip he had on Loki's arm. His face scrunched up and his hands balled up into fists. He could already feel the impact of bone breaking underneath them. A piece of him knew he shouldn't lash out, not here, but he so terribly wanted to.

Loki stepped closer to the plaque. He went to the left hand side and read every name one by one. He could not imagine who these names belonged to. Most of the attack was a blur, a checklist of items he had needed to accomplish. That day was the closest he had been to freedom for so long. Instead of looking at the battle or the people or the army he was meant to be leading, Loki had kept looking at the sky. At the time it had seemed impossibly blue. Now, he wished to be able to picture even one person who's name might be on this list. It felt important to be able to remember even one face from that day but the only ones that came to mind were the Avengers.

Once Loki reached the end of the list he fell to his knees. The names kept cycling though his head even if he closed his eyes. After all this time he had been thinking of himself. After all this time he had the audacity to try and piece himself back to a better person, one Frigga must have thought he could be. He could not remember their faces. It was not fair or right that he was still clinging to life when they died so needlessly. Maybe Thanos had been right, he deserved to pay for what he had done.

The tears had slowed. By the time Loki fell to his knees the tears had stopped completely. Vincent shut down and lashed out. He stepped forward and began kicking. When his legs grew tired he reached down and hulled Loki to his feet. He just kept pulling his arms back for another punch. He smiled as something cracked under his aching fist. It felt good to just let go and make someone pay for the loss of that day.

Loki did not fight back. He did not think to do so. For awhile he simply slumped down and protected what he could from the onslaught of kicks. He curled up till his ribs were relatively safe, his spine terribly exposed. His hands were nestled under his stomach as if he deserved to be able to use them later. His face was laid against the ground turned away, as best as he could, from the impact of hard leather boots. It was instinctual. In a moment he had lost his grip on the world. Vincent became the Other, the Chitauri, Thanos himself. By the time Loki was on his feet he could not breathe. He would not even try to go against what his better wanted. There were no thoughts left in his head. He became nothing more than a doll, a plaything.

Eventually Vincent grew tired. He slowed and eventually stopped punching and kicking. The attack had only lasted five minutes at the most. The park was still empty but that would change soon enough. Vincent took a step back to admire what he had done.

The oncoming pain had stopped so Loki slid back down to his knees. He attempted to fold himself up small but his ribs, his body, protested far too much. In a final attempt to protect himself, Loki covered his face with his arms and hands. And then he slipped into unconsciousness.

Vincent leaned down and picked up the monster bleeding at his feet. He tugged at an arm till it was wrapped around his shoulders. To anyone who looked at them with questions behind their eyes all Vincent had to say was, "My friend here had a far too much to drink last night. I'm helping him back home." One or two tried to get closer but Vincent insisted he was fine, he could handle this on his own. But for the most part, no one seemed concerned.

They made it back to Vincent's meager apartment. He took out his SHIELD issued handcuffs and chains, the ones he hadn't used since his Mom died. He hadn't been put in the field since the attack. Reassigned to desk duty. He would have a full day of looking at legalities before he could come back home and take out a bit more of his anger in private.