In all the days of his life so far, today definitely counted as the worst. Not only had his brother tricked him on Sakaar, but he had been forced to summon the fire demon, Surtur, who had destroyed Asgard, and then those who had survived had been mercilessly slaughtered by the Mad Titan and his followers. Though the Trickster had done his best, not even his silver tongue had been able to save him or the ship. As he felt the grip tighten around his neck, he had idly wondered if he would go to the golden halls of Valhalla, but then there was nothing but pain. Thor's anguished cries and the weight of his brother holding him were the last things he knew before there was total nothingness.

But now, as he lay in the dark, he knew that something was very wrong. For one, it really hurt to breathe, and for two, it was far too quiet. Valhalla was supposed to be full of feasting warriors, but there was no sound of boasting or raucous laughter. There was no music and no food. Instead, there was just the silence. Perhaps, the God of Lies thought, the hall was empty. After all, he had just triggered Ragnarok… Or, he thought wryly, maybe his heritage meant that it was not possible for him to join Asgard's greatest warriors in their eternal feast.

"Meow?" the faint noise came from somewhere on his left, and in his fragile state, he was unable to summon his knives. The smell of burning oil and death was ingrained in his nostrils, and he frowned as he willed his body to heal quickly. His body ached, and he knew that he was not in any state to fight his enemies. He took a deep breath, and then instantly regretted it, for it sent agonizing pain from his neck. He was pretty certain that the dead felt no pain, and he half grimaced as he realised that he must have somehow survived having his neck broken and the explosion. He felt a hand touch his shoulder then, and though he tried to react, he did not have the strength. A soothing voice assured him that he would be safe here, and Loki wondered why it sounded so familiar. Try as he might, he could not open his eyes, and he could only be grateful as whoever it was helped him to drink. The liquid was cool and welcoming, and he briefly wondered if it was poison, before the nothingness took him once again.

He had no idea how long it had been when he next gained consciousness, and he could not work out quite where he was. It seemed he had healed a little, for it no longer hurt to breathe and his joints did not ache as much as earlier. His skin felt dry, but wherever he was felt cool and refreshing. The blankets that covered him were not of the quality he was used to, and he knew that someone had partially undressed him. The soothing smell of lavender came from nearby, and he could hear quiet music coming from the next room. A soft but warm weight was on his lap, and he briefly wondered if it was some sort of containment device. Not knowing where he was or who was nearby, he summoned his blades and tried to work out the best course of action. He could not sense anyone else in the room, and so he opened his eyes in the hopes of figuring out where he was. He blinked a couple of times as they adjusted to the light, and within an instant he knew that he was on Midgard. He cursed then, for this realm would not exactly be the most welcoming after what he had done to New York. He scanned the room then, trying to find any clues as to whether this was a prison cell, and he found that it was not a containment device but a cat that was on his lap. It had grey and white fur, and it shifted as Loki eased himself up, before it went back to sleep. The Trickster then looked as the books on the bedside table and the pictures on the wall, all of which seemed familiar but he did not know why. Wanting answers, he got out of bed and silently made his way to the door, before opening it a little and peering through it. Across the room he saw the back of a woman, whose brown hair was pulled back into a bun while she wore a blue dress. She was occupied in the kitchen, humming softly along with the radio, and Loki frowned even more as he held his knives tightly. If it was just this woman keeping him from freedom then he really had nothing to worry about. He shifted his attention to what else he could see then, and realised that this dwelling was filled with items and books relating to Norse Mythology. Wherever he was, he was certain that his identity was known.

"Hello Sif! I guess you're hungry?" The woman asked as the tabby cat jumped on the counter. Loki risked a look back at the bed and then silently cursed as the creature had given him away. "You're safe here Loki. I won't be turning you in." She called out without looking at him. Loki just returned his blades to their places and adapted his most charming smile before walking into the main part of the flat. His attention was soon taken by a framed photograph of two cats on the wall, one ginger and one black, and he instantly recognised his feline form. There was only one person who would own such a picture, but she was dead… wasn't she?

"It's been a while." The woman said as she noticed him looking at it. "I should say that you're not dead. I lived, thanks to you. I've been wanting to thank you ever since." She paused as she walked across to join him. "I also understand that a lot has happened since that day, so I guess you'll have probably forgotten me. I'm…"

"Freya?" It was a hint of a whisper, but the woman smiled.

"Hello Loki." She greeted warmly. "You are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish to. I will not be turning you over to the authorities and…" She hesitated while Loki stared at her. In all that had happened since that day, he had almost forgotten the mortal girl who had accidentally summoned him and who had then risked everything to free him. But now that he was here, the memories came back, and he sighed as he remembered those carefree days on Asgard.

"How long has it been?" He asked, his voice hoarse. Freya certainly looked older, but she still had the same kind eyes.

"About ten years thereabouts." She shrugged as she returned to the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. "A lot has happened since we last spoke."

"I see that your love of the myths has continued." He said as he peered at a small replica Mjolnir. Freya just chuckled as she set about making them some tea.

"That passion will never die." She paused. "If you look at the next shelf…" His eyes flickered to it, and he stared at a miniature version of his horned helmet and a winged boat, placed in front of a sketch of Asgard's palace.

"You've not forgotten."

"Those days changed my life." She explained as she brought two mugs across. The smell of honey and ginger filled the air, and he was surprised to find Freya curled up on the armchair. The cat was soon in her lap, and Loki rolled his eyes before sitting on the sofa.

"Because you found out I was real?"

"That, and Asgard." She smiled. "Honey tea- it's good for your throat." She explained as he took his drink and sniffed it curiously. "It kickstarted my career in SHIELD." Loki instantly bristled, while Freya looked at him meaningfully. "I left a few years ago and don't have any contacts, so you have nothing to worry about. Even if I did, I wouldn't be handing you over." She assured him, while he searched her face for the slightest hint of a lie and found nothing.

"And now?"

"I'm currently between jobs." She admitted sheepishly. "So, care to tell me just how come I came home last night and found you in my bed?" she asked conversationally, while he frowned. "I found you looking mostly dead, and yet I've heard nothing from you for…"

"I have no idea in truth." He sighed. "And I would rather not discuss…" he trailed off, while Freya offered a sympathetic smile.

"Of course. I won't ask." She paused. "I'll make lunch soon. Is there anything you'd prefer?" The mention of food made his stomach rumble, and Loki realised that he had not eaten anything since Sakaar, and that had been a while ago now. "I was thinking pancakes, but…"

"That sounds fine." He said before sipping his drink. It truly was soothing his throat, and he was grateful for the warmth. "If you don't mind me saying so, you don't seem too concerned at having me here."

"Well, it's not exactly the first time." She shrugged before finishing her drink. "And it is nice to have company for a change."

"You live alone." He realised, as he had not seen any evidence for someone else.

"Just me and Sif." She explained. "I wasn't going to get another cat. Not after losing Thor, but this ne came to me as a stray and I couldn't say no."

"Still sticking to a theme I see."

"It's a family tradition." She shrugged. "We've always named our pets after the Norse pantheon."

The rest of the day was spent catching up. Freya had offered him full use of her flat, and so Loki had been grateful for a hot bath and clean clothes, while she had focused on tidying up a bit. They had then talked a little about what they had been up to in the last decade, and Loki was more than happy to let Freya talk. It truly seemed that she had changed very little, and he knew that this was not some as she had shown him the scars from her encounter with Caygill. He was glad to know that she had survived the ordeal, although he wished that Odin had not lied to him. The Allfather had been good at keeping secrets it seemed. The Trickster sighed as he sat on the sofa with a book, while Sif curled up in his lap and purred. He should have been annoyed, for he disliked anything being so comfortable on him, but there was something strangely soothing about it.

Meanwhile Freya finished tidying and sat at her desk to do her daily search for jobs. In truth she wanted to find out if there was anything that would give her an idea as to why Loki had just arrived last night without warning. She had caught the faintest glint of sorrow in his eyes earlier, and he must have been running from something for him to have been in such a bad way. Of course, he had given nothing away during their conversations, but she knew he was a much-changed man from the one who had shown her around the golden halls of Asgard. She had a million questions t ask, but there was something in his demeanour that stilled her tongue. She had the distinct feeling that something really terrible must have happened, and one word sprang to mind although she dared not voice it. After all, why else would the God of Mischief be hiding on Midgard?

Turning her attention back to her laptop, she deleted yet another rejection email and then frowned as she clicked onto another webpage. Breaking news popped up, and she was confused as she saw images of a spaceship in New York. What did this mean? Surely it was not coincidence that this was happening just hours after Loki appearing? Though the Trickster had sworn that he was not here to cause trouble, she was not entirely convinced that he was being honest. After all, it wasn't really that long ago that he had tried to take over Midgard. Was this part of some plan?

"Meow?" Sif had moved from the sofa, and was now standing on the keyboard. Freya scratched the cat's ears and sighed, for she knew that it was pointless to try to move her. switching her laptop off, she headed to the kitchen and started making dinner.

"You seem troubled Freya. What is the matter?" Loki asked a short while later. He had returned the book to the shelf and was now watching as she focused on chopping some vegetables.

"Its nothing." She brushed him off, but both knew she was lying. She could feel him looking at her, and she sighed. "Alright, there is one thing bothering me. I've not seen you in over ten years, and yet here you are, and now there's a spaceship in New York." Loki did not react, although it was not great news.

"You think I have something to do with it?"

"I…" she hesitated. "I wish I could say no, but unfortunately I… I mean, last time you did try to…"

"I was not myself then." He pointed out.

"I know." Freya said, much to his surprise. "But this time?"

"It is nothing to do with me, I promise you." He assured her. Freya met his eyes and then sighed.

"I believe you." She said after a moment. "I'm sorry if…"

"It is only natural to doubt the God of Lies." He pointed out wryly, before looking confused. "What did you mean when you said you knew about…"

"I had to study your every move from that time." She admitted, a little embarrassed. "It was why I was hired in the first place, what with being a bit of an expert and…"

"You studied me?" He sounded both affronted and curious at the same time, while Freya headed out of the kitchen and to one of the bookcases.

"If it is any consolation I also had to study Thor."

"He is no threat to Earth."

"He could be." Freya pointed out as she retrieved two hardback books. One was blue with a silver Mjolnir embossed on the front, while the other was green with golden horns. "Based on what we've seen and what is in the mythology… I mean, after New Mexico and Greenwich, the destruction that can be caused…"

"So you had to compare them?"

"I did." She explained. "I got so far, and then we were told that you had died, and then SHIELD…" she shook her head. "Well, these weren't of use anymore, so I kept them and had them bound. I have no doubt that they are outdated, and there's plenty of wrong information, but should you wish to read them…" She held them out to him, and curiosity took him. Placing the blue one on the counter, he flicked through the green one and winced as he saw pictures of himself from the attack on New York. He continued past the various graphs and charts, until he reached one particular chapter, and then he stared at it in horror. The sounds of screams echoed in his ears, while he could not shake the image of his home burning. He blinked away the tears that were forming in his eyes, and he read the words that Freya had written. His people had suffered so much pain and heartbreak in those few days, and Loki had no idea what had happened to those that they had sent away from the fight with Thanos. Although he was not an Asgardian by birth, he had still classed it as his home. But it was gone, and it was his fault.

"Loki? What is…?" Freya asked, full of concern as she saw him staring blankly at the page.

"How did you know?" he asked sorrowfully.

"Know what?"

"That I… I caused…" The book fell from his hands, and he sank to his knees as the memories overwhelmed him. "They're all gone Freya, and it's my fault… I caused Ragnarok."