For perhaps the longest moment in Brunnhilde's life, nobody moved.

Nobody even breathed. Or, at least, she wouldn't have been able to hear them if they did. She could barely hear her own mind over the buzz in her ears.

Oh, Loki…

Unable to stand the silence any longer, she bit out a curse strong enough to earn a glare from Heimdall. Not that she cared.

"Oh," she sighed, "I hate it when he does that."

Bruce, for his part, looked completely baffled. "Well… where'd he go?"

"I think I know." All eyes were on her now. Thanks a lot, Lackey.

But she couldn't find it in herself to be mad. No, she was too busy trying to shove down her worry to entertain even a shred of anger.

"Val…" Bruce's tone was soft, almost pleading. "Where's Thor?"

"You don't wanna know."

"No,"—His hand curled around her wrist. Firm, yet gentle in a manner only Banner could achieve—"I really think I do."

Heimdall shot her a knowing glance. "I'll take it from here."

"You sure? That's a lot of people."

"I might have found a few recruits who don't fear the virus."

Brunnhilde scoffed, but a grateful smile tugged at her lips. "Good on them, then." With another sigh, she nodded at Bruce. "Come on. It's a bit of a walk from here."

Too far… Nails dug into her palm. Painful, yes, but she couldn't seem to uncurl her fist. It's always too far.

For once in her life, she envied Loki's magic. To be able to teleport so far, so quickly… So far…

Hang on, Loki.

"So," Bruce heaved, trying to catch up to her quick pace, "you going to tell me what's been going on?"

Brunnhilde pursed her lips, pressing forward without a word. She didn't trust herself to speak.

Not without trembling.

And Valkyries did not tremble. They bore their teeth and flashed their swords at the mere sight of danger.

So, why did she feel like she could crumble into ash at any moment?

"Val?"

No, not ash. Don't think about ash.

She could barely look at the dying embers of a fire in those early days without shuddering at the thought that it could've been her; could've been Loki, or Bruce. Or Heimdall.

Or Thor.

It might as well have been…

But, no! She wouldn't think about that either. Thor was simply… struggling.

Yeah, that's a nice way to put it, her mind scoffed back at her. And you aren't struggling, hmm?

"Val…?" Bruce's hand on her shoulder felt good. Like an anchor steadying her tumultuous mind.

"Sorry. Yeah…" Blowing out a breath, Brunnhilde spared Bruce a glance that dripped with pity, and perhaps a smidge of guilt.He shouldn't have to know… Shouldn't have to know what his friend's become.

"Yeah… I guess you need to know what's been going on around here before we get there."

"What has been going on? And why won't anyone tell me anything?"

"They don't want to, I suppose. Or…" She shrugged, as if by doing so, she could release the weight of the world from her shoulders. Nothing has ever been that easy. "They just don't know how."

Thor couldn't remember when it all had gotten so easy.

It had been hard, at first, of course. The weight of his failure hanging off his shoulders was almost too much to bear.

So, over time he just… didn't bear it.

He'd picked out the spot for New Asgard, remembering his father's words as clearly as if Odin had uttered them yesterday.

"This could be Asgard."

And Thor had made it so.

That had been easy enough. Then, as long as he didn't think about, well, everything, he found he could manage the guilt well enough.

Easier said than done.

He saw them everywhere. All they had lost. Every vanished child reflected in the tears of a mourning mother. Every fallen father etched in the faces of the young children now forced to go on alone.

Forever alone.

All because Thor had missed his mark.

"You should've gone for the head."

Right.

With so many tears of his people threatening to drown him, Thor hardly had time for his own. He'd needed a distraction. So, he started drinking a little more. Just a little. After all, it seemed to work for the Valkyrie. Right?

Either Loki didn't notice this new habit or he chose not to voice his opinion. Oh, to go back to those first days when he and Loki would crack open a couple of beers together and share a drink. Together.

Another crack split its way through Thor's fractured heart when he realized he couldn't remember when they had started to grow apart.

Loki had been all business. That was his vice, Thor guessed—his way of coping. Of ignoring the pain.

The guilt…

"I think I've found families for…" Loki had trailed off at dinner one night so long ago, expression grim.

"All the children who lost their parents?" Thor remembered the way he'd studiously ignored the cluster of citizens gathered, all eating on the grass in silence. Waiting. Biding their time until they could resume construction the next day. "Just say it, why don't you?"

"Yes," Loki had responded after a moment, lips pursed, eyes fixed on the distant fjord. "Yes, them. Anyway, I matched them all with families. They'll be well taken care of until…"

Until what? But Thor never spoke the words. Instead, he'd found himself saying something entirely different—and entirely unwelcome.

"Loki… If someone loses their parents when they're an adult, do you think they still count as an orphan?"

This had earned him hard side-glare from his brother, who saw right through the veiled question. "We're over a thousand years old, Thor. I don't think we count."

"Still… It just seems like we should."

With a huff, Loki had stood, flashing Thor the first of many do whatever you want because that's what you're best at looks. "Consider yourself to be whatever suits you best, brother. I'm going to bed."

Thor had simply nodded.

"Don't forget," Loki had reminded him, "you need to finish marking out spots for the last of the houses tomorrow."

"Right. I'll be there."

Only, he hadn't. He'd gotten to thinking about Odin and Frigga. One thought had led to another and the next thing he knew, Thor had woken up with earth's mightiest hangover, rendering him almost completely useless that day.

He didn't know who'd finished his work for him, but he suspected his savior to be Loki.

Always Loki…

Korg had been the first to discover gaming. Not too long after the majority of the houses were built, the Kronan and his little friend had shown up on Thor's doorstep just itching to introduce "a fellow revolutionary" to the most revolutionary invention ever created.

Thor promised himself he wouldn't play for too long. There was still so much work to do.

Always so much…

Val was counting on him. Loki was counting on him in a way he hadn't since… Well, since long before Thor's farce of a coronation.

Soon, pulling himself back into reality became harder with each passing day. There were endless tasks to be done, but he couldn't resist the draw of the game.

It wasn't the action, or the thrill of "achievement."

No, it was the way the game cleansed his mind. Made him forget. Made him stop thinking.

Because if he didn't think, he wouldn't remember. Remember his failure. Remember his guilt. His parents. His weakness.

"Tell me, brother, what were you the god of, again?"

Sometimes, he couldn't even remember a thing as simple as that.

So, he didn't try. Trying meant thinking. And, well…

Loki would remind him of his duties. At first.

"Thor, you're twenty minutes late. Where were you?"

"What was so important that you forgot about…?"

"Thor, you're not listening to me. I'm trying to tell you that…"

"Thor?"

Slowly, these interruptions dwindled down to nothing.

"Thor, are you listening?"

"Would you just please…?"

"Brunnhilde says that…"

"Did you hear the news? The last house was officially finished this afternoon. Thor, are you there…?"

"Can't you just…?"

"Listen!"

No… No, he supposed they never truly stopped. Loki would still come. Once or twice, his brother even sat down and joined him for a game. Then, he just… didn't, anymore.

Loki…

In the back of his mind, Loki had always been there. But the memories were clouded… So clouded… He couldn't… He didn't…

All those times Loki had come to him, tried to talk to him. To carry on a conversation Thor just didn't want to have…

"If you would just listen to me! Why can you just listen?"

It was easier not to; easier to ignore it all.

So, he did.

Until now.

Anger had been his only defense against Loki's accusations. Sometimes, he could still hear his mother as clearly as if she stood right behind him.

"You'll have to do something about that temper, darling."

Right.

But it just felt right. In a world where Thor knew he was wrong, letting his anger get the better of him felt natural. It was something he could control; something he could feed off of; something that drove the dark thoughts away.

And cleansed his mind.

He'd had a sharp comeback prepared, his tongue aching to fling it at his brother.

Because you're not the only one suffering here.

But, no… No!

He watched Loki's body crumple, and for perhaps the second slowest moment in his life—the first had been watching Thanos snap those bloody fingers—Thor thought he was going to be too late.

Again.

"Thor!"

The cry was a desperate one, filled to the brim with exhaustion and pain. Why does everyone have to suffer so much pain?

When his hands curled firmly around Loki's arms, Thor was tempted to breathe a sigh of relief. Except, this war was far from over.

No, it was only the beginning.

The beginning of what? Thor didn't have the answer. He didn't have any answer. That was Loki's job, at least as of late.

Help. He needed help.

"Loki!" Checking for a pulse only made his anxiety spike higher. It thumped at a sickeningly erratic rate. "Loki!"

Nothing.

Hot… One brush against the forehead confirmed Thor's biggest fear. He's way too hot.

The fact that now he actually had to "get help" was not lost on him. It would have been hilariously ironic had the situation not been so dire.

"Come on, Loki! Wake up!"

Head spinning, Thor reached for his phone, fingers scrambling to dial a number. Any number. 911? Heimdall? Bruce? He didn't know. Just someone…

That's when Val burst through the front door.

"Loki—?" Her strangled gasp sent shivers down his spine. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing, I—!" But she was already shoving him out of the way in a desperate attempt to get to Loki.

Loki…

He couldn't let go, no matter how hard she tried to pry his brother's limp frame away. He wouldn't let go.

"Come on, Lackey," she muttered, checking his pulse and biting out a curse. "Stay with me…" The strained terror in her voice sounded foreign to Thor's ears… especially coming from the Valkyrie.

"How long has he been like this?" Bruce… That was—

"Banner? How…? When did you—?"

The doctor waved a dismissive hand, his worried eyes focusing on Loki. "That doesn't matter right now. Thor, what happened?"

The thunder god suspected these words held a double meaning, but he wasn't about to go into detail about the last year. Not when so many of the details had been lost on him, anyway…

"He just…" Now it was Thor's turn to wave his hand. "Appeared. Words were exchanged…" Yes, no need to go into that right now. "Then he collapsed. Why? What's wrong with him?"

"He's burning up," Val informed them. "Where's some blasted ice when you need it?"

Without another word, she hurried to the kitchen and began digging around in the fridge.

"And I was really hoping it wasn't contagious…" Bruce knelt beside Loki, who still lay wrapped in Thor's protective embrace. "We should get him back to the hall. It's cooler there."

"Bruce," Thor pressed, working hard to keep the growl out of his tone, "what is wrong with my brother?"

Before he could receive any sort of reply, Val swore hard and loud.

"He drank the water."

Water?

"A lot of it, too. I told him not to do it. Told him it was crap." Another curse had her grabbing a mug from the sink and smashing it into the wall. "Blast him! The idiot! Don't tell me you've been drinking it, too?"

She was looking at Thor now, but he could hardly wrap his head around her words.

What was wrong with the water? What's wrong with my brother…?

"When he wakes up," she commanded, turning to Bruce now, a thick bottle of gatorade in her hand, "he needs to drink this. We need to get his temperature down! Argh! Where's some freaking ice when you need it?"

"I think I have some in the fridge," Thor offered, glancing back down at his brother. Come on, Loki…

"No," Val said, voice sharp and pointed, "you don't. And do you want to know why? Because I took it. About an hour ago, I came in and raided your freezer. But you don't remember that, do you? No, you don't remember because you didn't even see me! You never see anything anymore!"

"I see just fine!" Thor snapped, but even as he said it, he could feel her gaze searing his flesh.

"Oh, really? Well, then, your majesty—can I even still call you that? Or have you thrown out the role with the rest of your rubbish?—let me ask you this: why are we all awake at this unholy hour? Why is Bruce here? Where's Heimdall?" She paused for a second, as if giving Thor a chance to reply. Only… he didn't have one. "You see nothing. Not even your own brother! You… You—"

Releasing a shrill growl, Val threw the gatorade at Thor's feet. It took everything in him to try not to flinch. By the look on Banner's face, however, he knew he'd failed miserably.

"Here." And if she'd still been the same woman Thor had met on Sakaar, she might just have spit in his face. "Get Loki on the couch and give that to him when he wakes up. Keep his fever down the best you can. I'm going to go check on Heimdall, then get more ice. Because in case you haven't noticed, Thor, New Asgard is suffering from an epidemic as of five hours ago. But of course, you already knew that because you see everything so well, don't you?"

Mouth dry, Thor couldn't form a response; couldn't even call to her as she stalked out the door.

What response was there to give, anyway? There wasn't anything he could say that would calm her down; that would make her see reason.

What reason? What logic is there to be had here?

Certainly none from you. And Norns! Why did the voice in his head always sound so much like Loki?

After a moment, the fading footsteps stomped back in and one glance up had Thor locking gazes with a fuming Valkyrie.

"And if he dies…" Her warning came out low and threatening. Thor even found himself holding his breath against her ire. "I'm going to kill you."

Swallowing the sudden urge to be sick, Thor's lips finally managed to remember their sole purpose in life. "Why me…?" Why would Loki…?

"Because this?" She swung her arms in a wild gesture that made him wonder if she was truly sober. "It's all your fault. If you'd just been there in the first place. If you'd gotten involved, none of this would've happened."

Her scoff clouded the air and Thor found himself fighting a lack of oxygen.

"You know, I never had an older brother, so… I wouldn't know much about all that. But… I always thought they were supposed to be better." Val sniffed, flashing him one of those disinterested glances he hadn't seen since Sakaar. "Guess not."

As she retreated back down the hallway, slamming the door behind her, Thor turned to Bruce. The usually friendly face was etched with worry.

"Talk to me, Bruce." Thor tightened his grip on Loki, who shuddered. "What's going on?"

With a shuddering breath of his own, Bruce shook his head. "It's bad, Thor. It's really bad…"

What do y'all think? Should I do Thor or Val's POV next? :)