Author's Note: Someone remarked how they wanted to read Loki and Frigga's conversation in Withering Away and I was like, oh yeah, I did write that, but cut it out for the sake of length. This is my compilation of deleted/alternate scenes from Withering Away. Of which I regret to say I did not find the Loki and Frigga scene. I searched and searched, but I don't think I put it inside the "Junk" document and just deleted it. My apologies. I really did hope to find it. I can't even remember the details of it anymore...I'm kind of second guessing whether or not I just planned it, instead of writing. I don't know.

Anyway, good luck navigating this mess. I tried to put it in chronological order, but...

Also, yes, I am aware that words are not spelled right, the plot sucks, and grammar is a mess. This was in the junk document for a reason. This is 100% rough draft, and I'm more than humiliated by most of it. XD

Disclaimer: Nope.

[EVERYTHING IS POST CHAPTER 1]

[Post Chapter 1, this was the original chapter 2:]

Loki slips from his grip at the force of the pull immediately, but the Tesseract remains clutched tightly in his right hand. His grip tight enough he's mildly afraid, somewhere in the calmer regions of his mind, that, should he press any harder, he'll shatter glass.

He's not stupid enough to test fate again.

Thor squeezes it harder.

He's learned his lesson with being lax. (He hopes he's learned his lesson). He won't lose the Stone. Not when they're so close to accomplishing their goal. Not when he can prove that he's not such a failure and fix the whole mess he started.

Loki doesn't find nearly the success with landing on his feet as Thor does. His younger brother immediately topples to his knees, heaving, dark hair a mess around his face as he tries-considerably-not to throw up. Thor doesn't drop the Tesseract, but he does squat next to the younger after a moment.

He hesitantly reaches a hand out to rest on Loki's shoulder for assurance. (Is this real? Is he dreaming? Loki has been dead for so long now, and this can't be real). Loki hardly seems to acknowledge his presence, a hand coming up to claw at his chest as he gasps.

Sympathy swirls through him.

"Thor…" Loki's voice is thin when he's finally managed to gain his breath back, "what on Helheim-?"

Thor's gaze flicks up, Loki stopping mid-question at the sound and sight of the other Avengers falling into view beside them. Most with varying degrees of balance, but none outright topple like Loki did, however it's fairly obvious that the speed they return from is dizzying.

Thor has little desire to repeat this again.

But he has to. He's the only one who can get the Aether.

The energy surges of the Infinity Stones roll towards him with gentle prods, and the sensation of their power makes him want to physically draw back. He thinks that the human's process it as a numbness in their senses-almost like a drug-but he, and anyone else who has a sensitivity to sedir, feels surges of their strength. It makes something within him hum with contentment and a desire for more. It terrifies him.

He isn't the Titan.

He doesn't lust after this.

No. Just-No.

Thor keeps a hand rooted on Loki's shoulder and does a quick, desperate headcount. Tony, Steve, and Bruce (who never left) are all here. Scott, Rhodes, the Rabbit, Clint, Nebula, and-Thor scans the group again, trying to find Natasha. His stomach does something funny, a mixture between a scream and a horrified drop as he doesn't spot the master assassin among the group.

She's not here.

She's not here.

No. Thor can't-not her. Please. Please. Please.

Thor sees Steve's gaze follow the same headcount, and his eyes widen a little. He visibly fidgets, turning to the archer. "Clint. Where's Nat?"

Clint's expression says everything. It's opened, gutted raw with agony, and it makes Thor's chest heave with the desire to scream. No. After all their other losses, why can't fate be merciful to them, once, and allow them this? Allow the Avengers to stay together? Natasha is the only thing that's kept everyone from falling apart these last five years. He knows from the brief, rare phone calls they shared.

She was the only one, save the random text from Steve, that kept in contact with him after he didn't go for the head. After everything and now she's-no. She can't-not dead. Not dead. Not dead. Please, he can't-

A cold hand squeezes his, and Thor's gaze flicks down as he tries not to jump. Loki. Loki is here and he's still alive. His head as tilted up a little, and though his green eyes are rapidly searching over everything and trying to parse it, it calms him to know that his younger brother is still aware of him.

(It also makes him sick. How could he be so ignorant of his brother for so long? How could he have wasted so much time on Asgard treating him lesser and not caring that Loki was his shadow? Why has Loki always been the better brother between them? Fail-).

"Clint," Tony's voice sounds both exhausted and barely a contained shout.

"She's not coming back." Clint manages to grit between his teeth. "He took her. He took her and she's not-" his voice cracks. He turns his head away, refusing to meet their eyes, "she jumped so I wouldn't have to."

What?

What jumping?

Who would-Oh. The Soul Stone. Natasha and Clint were sent to gather the Soul Stone, and it demands a price for it's deeds. Thor didn't care much to learn deeply of it when he went on his two year stint to try and find them, more concerned on the ones he could locate easily, but he knows that there was a price. Natasha's life was that price.

Thor hates these Stones.

"Alright," Steve's voice is deceptively level as his gaze travels across them again, "we're just going to have to mana-what the-!?" Steve doesn't quite rear back-but it's close-as his gaze lingers on Thor again, and, ergo, his sibling. Steve's shield lifts in defense, his entire posture seizing as the rest of the Avengers and Guardians do the same. Loki's eyes briefly close with something that looks like exhaustion, and Thor can't blame him. Not really. Loki just came from the long brutal battle for their people, Thor walked away from it five years ago. There's little he can do to help his sibling get the rest he needs.

Thor's fingers strain for Stormbreaker should the need arise (he's not watching Loki die-or be injured for that matter-again!), but he doesn't feel the familiar lull of the weapon awaiting his call. There's simply a void, and the cut is almost as serving as Mjolnir's destruction was. His face drains of color. No. No, no-Forbannelser.

Thor left Stormbreaker on the Statesmen. He doesn't have a weapon.

"You actually did it," Tony's voice is blank, and Thor hates it. He hates it when Tony collapses like this, because that means that he's furious, but trying not to show it openingly. "I didn't think you were serious."

He would never say something like that for humor! (He doesn't really say much anymore, anyway). He wisely keeps this thought private.

Loki rises to his feet, somehow managing to outwardly gather himself together in the fluid movement. Thor can't. Not that simply. He's still a jumbled mess and he's not even sure where to begin to garner the pieces together. Thor lifts himself up as well, keeping the death grip on the Tesseract prominent. There's no need to, not now, but if he lets it go, he fears he'll fall apart.

Bruce has moved away from the controls, his stance wary.

Every eye is lingering on them, and Thor shrinks beneath the attention.

Loki smooths a messy piece of dark hair away from his face, and doesn't quite smile, "You're all looking well. Some new Midgardian health secret I should be aware of?"

Thor sees Nebula's hand go to her sword, and Scott visibly flinches. Tony takes a step forward, his hand shaking with anger. "No. No. Don't you start, Psychopath-" Thor makes a noise in the back of his throat, "-don't you dare make this about you. We just lost a sister, and if you think that this is somehow about you, stick it."

Loki draws back a little. "It wasn't my intention to stall you from your grief."

Tony smiles bitterly, "Right. You're empathetic like that."

His younger brother's head tilts a little, as if debating, "I would say it safe to assume, Stark, that you don't know me."

Tony snorts, "Because there's that much complexity." Loki smiles a little, and Thor nearly winces. What was he thinking? He could arrive back with Loki on Midgard and somehow it would solve everything? That the Avengers would be perfectly alright with it? It stings a little to realize that the only reason they agreed in the first place was because they thought that he was going to fail.

He bites back a groan. Norns know how this was a terrible idea. The Avengers are going to kill Loki or Loki them before they can reverse the snap.

"Tony," Steve rests a hand on his teammate's shoulder, and the multi-billionaire deflates visibly, but he's blinking rapidly. His eyes are wet. The anger is still there, but Thor can see the grief more prominent. Shouldn't he feel something like that? The desire to cry with Natasha's death? He doesn't feel much of anything.

Steve turns to him, and Thor finally notices the briefcase in one hand and can pick out the distinct energy signature of the Mind Stone within it. Rocket is gripping the Time Stone in one paw, but his gaze keeps flicking between Thor and Loki, his other paw on his weapon. Actually, now that Thor's looking for it, everyone has a hand on their weapon except for him and his brother.

This was a mistake.

Did Thor bring his brother here only for him to be murdered in cold blood again?

Steve breaks the distance between them and lifts out a hand. He looks like he's trying really hard not to look towards on left where Loki is. "Thor, give me the Tesseract. You and Rocket need to get the Aether before we can get anywhere."

Oh. Yes. That. Right. It...right. Thor is not prepared to go back to Asgard. He's not...he's not sure if he can. He's the reason that it burned to the ground, he caused Ragnarok and got his people stranded as refugees for the rest of their lives. Midgard will only tolerate them for so long before they kick them off to fend for themselves. It's in men's nature. Thor has seen it happen again and again throughout their history.

How can he go back to Asgard, and not stay there?

"I don't mean to interject," Loki's voice is smooth, but it breaks Thor from his revere all the same. Loki's gaze is mostly focused on him, but it is flitting in the direction of the multiple Infinity Stones in the room. Thor knows that he can sense their power as well, probably more distinctly than Thor can with his official sedir training. Even at his lower sensitivity, it's distracting. "But what on the Norn's name is going on?"

The Rabbit's ears perk a little and his hand lifts from his weapon, "Oh. So you didn't tell him?"

Thor latches onto his tongue with his teeth and his face heats a little. No. He didn't. There wasn't enough time to explain, and he was more focused on Loki's fate as an individual, not what happened to everyone else. At that time, beyond the Tesseract, it wasn't important.

Thor chances a glance towards his sibling's face, and opens his mouth to explain, but words have escaped him. No. Not now! He needs to explain this, but he can't get anything to come out beside a huff of air. Loki's eyes are studying him, and Thor sees a brief flicker of confusion flicker across his expression.

Out. Come out. Words. Why can't he speak?

Steve apparently catches onto his sudden mute spell, and tilts his head towards Loki, "Do you know of Thanos?"

Loki's face is impassive; he picks at his palm a little, "He just slaughtered half my people, Captain."

Steve nods, "Alright. He wiped out half the universe with the Infinity Stones. We're trying to reverse that by collecting the Stones again."

Loki's mouth parts a little and he inhales sharply, eyes rapidly moving across the room again. Thor is almost expecting an excessively long exclamation, but all Loki does is make a soundless "oh".

The Tesseract. Steve wanted the Tesseract. Thor slowly lifts up his hand and Steve raises his to take the cube from him. The tingling in his hands immediately seize, and Thor is relieved. That energy source is a murdererer, and it has no idea the amount of innocents it's slaughtered. It gambles for life like a toy, and Thor hates it. It took Loki. Twice. And it took Asgard.

Steve's expression tightens a little as he manhandles it, but he gives a brief nod of thanks and moves away, setting the briefcase and the Tesseract on the small table that Clint put the Soul Stone down on sometime in the last few minutes. "Bruce, can you set the time...vortex back to the date that Thor gave you earlier?" Steve questions.

Bruce nods, already moving towards the machine. Thor resists the urge to insist that he's not ready.

"Guys, it's a time machine. Just call it a time machine." Scott folds his arms across his chest with irritation. His expression is tired. They all look tired. He can sense the same exhaustion on his face.

"He's got a point," Rhodes notes.

"I'll get to it," Bruce assures, ignoring the two. "It should be ready to go in about two minutes." Bruce hesitates before moving forward any further, "Steve, what...what are we going to do about Nat?"

The rest of the Avengers visibly tighten at the reminder and Thor's mind cries out with loss again. He doesn't want to think on this. No one was supposed to die on the retrieval, no one was supposed to die period. Natasha insisted that they'd see each other in a minute.

Thor doesn't even know where her body is.

"I…" Steve looks at a loss.

"We'll bring her back," Tony presses, "when we snap. We'll bring her back, then."

Clint's head lowers. Loki huffs loudly and all heads turn towards him for an explanation. Loki's still picking at his palm, and Thor resists the urge to whack his hands apart. He knows from past experience that it will only make his brother irritable.

Loki doesn't say a thing in answer to the silent question, but it seems to be enough to snap the tension in the room so sharply Thor wouldn't have been surprised if it cracked. Clint swears and crosses the distance between them, "Do you think this is funny?"

Loki's mouth parts, but Clint forcefully shoves him back. Loki staggers a little, and Thor reaches out a hand to steady him, sending Clint a warning look. "Shut. Up!" Clint demands, "I hate you. Oh, I could run you through and not feel a thing. I'd enjoy it. You'd deserve it. I heard what Thanos did to you the first time, and I'm sorry that Thor pulled you out."

Something near physical hits his stomach.

"Fantasizing about murder, my hawk?" Loki's voice is soft, "I think we best leave the homicidal scheming to me."

Clint's expression tightens, and Thor shifts a shade closer to his sibling. Not with the intent of protection, but to protect. "Scheming? You don't do scheming! Your invasion plan was squat. We could have stopped it in our sleep, and you claim to be some sort of genius? No. Your pathetic, and you know it."

Stop it!

"Clint-" Bruce's voice is hard.

"Shut it! It's Loki's fault that she's dead. We wouldn't have had to deal with this whole, stupid mess if HE hadn't publically, and loudly came down to Earth to announce his presence with a stupid Infinity Stone in his hand." He turns back to Loki, "Natasha is dead and it's your fault, psychopath!"

Clint's hand makes a move to slam against Loki's face, but Thor catches it before it make contact. Loki staggers back a step despite this, but Thor's hardly paying attention anymore. He twists Clint's arm, halting the force and the possibility of Clint trying again. Rage is burning through his blood and clouding his vision.

How dare he?

None of this is Loki's fault! How dare Clint pin the blame on him?

"Shut it." It's the first words that Thor's spoken to him properly in months, but the archer doesn't seem to really care. He twists out of Thor's grip.

"No-you stop this! If you had just gone for the head, then none of this would have happened, and my partner would still be alive and we-"

Thor flinches, air escaping him in a tight heave.

The head.

He should have gone for the head, and he didn't, and he made this whole mess and the Tesseract was supposed to fix it, but now it's made it bad again, and all of this is bad, and there was...and Thor is still so alone and he can't do this by himself anymore. He's to tired. He's had enough. Everyone hates him because-

The head.

Why didn't he-!?

Clint shoves him, and then grips his shoulders, rattling him back and forth. It makes something in his stomach clench with extreme discomfort, but he holds steady as best he can. He can't bring himself pull away. "I hate both of you! I hate Asgard-it ruined everything. If you had never stepped foot here and stopped treating Midgard like your rubbish bin, then Nat would still be alive, and Laura and my kids and-and-and you killed everyone and you're not even sorry-"

"Clint, please," Thor's voice is small.

He's going to throw up.

His breath is coming out thinned. His hands are shaking.

He can't breathe.

The head. Why didn't he go for the-!?

Clint's still babbling out words of panic, and Thor knows that he's not supposed to take them seriously, because when Clint slips into anxiety attacks his mouth opens and everything he says can be discounted as a chaotic mess. They're not supposed to take his speech as truth, but it still hurts.

Clint shoves him again, but rather than nearly topple over, a hand presses against his back and keeps him steady. Loki's hands grab at Clint's forearms, forcefully tearing them away. "Get your hands off of my brother." Loki's voice is flat, but Thor can hear the undertone of fury.

Clint's entire posture has seized, and his face has gone white. The open panic has turned to horror. "Let me go," his voice is barely above a whisper.

Loki doesn't, and Clint squirms in the grip.

"Reindeer Games, release the man, or we'll shoot you full of holes." Tony's voice is behind his suit, and Thor looks up to see weapons drawn towards them. He's made a bigger mess of a colossal mess for being selfish and not letting Loki rest in peace, and now he's going to get him killed again, but this time it will be by those who are supposed to be his...not friends or teammates (he's failed them to much for it), but acquaintances.

Loki drops Clint's forearms like they've burned him, but he doesn't shift from the defensive position he's taken up in front of Thor. Thor's not even sure if his younger brother is aware he's doing it, but shame ripples through him all the same.

He's the older sibling, it's his job to look after Loki.

It's not supposed to be the other way around. (But how often it is and has been).

Clint scrambles back, and Steve takes a position in front of him. From the corner of his eye, he sees Loki's gaze flit towards the briefcase on the table beside the other Infinity Stones. Thor's breath catches in his throat. The scepter. The scepter is there and Loki knows it's there. If he takes it, he can have everyone subdued as puppets in under a minute.

They may have their weapons, but Loki has his sedir. Against it, they're nothing. (And Thor doesn't know if he'd be able to get Loki to stop, or become a part of the collateral damage as his brother escapes).

The silence is thick before Loki laughs a little, causing Thor to flinch. The sound is bitter and dry.

Steve's gaze flicks towards Tony, uncertain.

"If we're done sizing each other up, my brother and I, I think, need to have a chat," Loki's hand wraps around his wrist, but two of his fingers are digging uncomfortably into his skin. Loki's palm is cold, and Thor resists the urge to twitch as it maintains contact.

Loki pulls him forward, towards the edge of the platform.

"Wait, no, stop-" Steve commands, and rushes towards them. Loki draws away sharply. "You can't leave right now. Thor still has to get the Aether."

Loki chortles, "If Thanos had the Infinity Stones, then the Reality Stone is destroyed, Captain."

How does he know that? None of them suspected that Thanos would destroy the gauntlet after he balanced the universe. Thor knows that Loki knew Thanos to an extent, but whether it was a fleeting passing, or something else, Thor isn't certain. Beyond his few spat words in Thor's direction in 2012, Thor hasn't heard a word of anything else that happened when he fell into the Void.

He can't even remember Loki's exact words anymore. It wasn't important at the time, and Thor hasn't thought about it in years. Why should he have? Loki offered no clues that they were significant; he mouthed off to everyone else during that time with far more chatter than Thor had been accustomed to then. Loki had always been on the quieter side until he came back from the Void.

"Not how we're looking," Steve promises, snapping Thor back into attention, "can it wait a minute? And I really mean a minute because Tony figured out a way to get this to work that fast and-"

"No." Loki assures flatly.

"Loki," Thor whispers softly, he's supposed to fix this. He can't shirk now. He'll make up for his mistake, for his failure and then he and Loki can recompense. Talk, whatever, because they'll have time. Thor will have expiated himself.

"No," Loki repeats, dragging Thor forward another step. "Let's quid pro quo-If you can spare us five minutes, I'll tell you how you can get your precious Widow back."

The room silences, and Thor feels his jaw slide open a little. It...she...how...what? Before anyone can come up with anything coherent, Loki has dragged him off of the platform properly, opposite the side of Bruce, and is pulling him away from the large garage-converted-time-machine-area.

They exit the room without anyone trying to stop them, and Loki's posture slumps a little, his freehand coming up to press against his chest. The ribs. Loki's ribs are broken and-Thor forgot in between everything else. What if space-time-whatever-they're-calling-it did something worse to the damage? Thor didn't even think of how it would effect injury.

Loki stares at the long hallway and blows out a slight breath. "I have no idea where we are." Loki admits, his voice a little quiet.

Thor's gaze flickers towards him with confusion. But-no, he wouldn't, would he? Loki didn't visit Midgard between his attack (that Thor knows of) and Ragnarok. He doesn't know about the Avengers Compound-well, he might, but he hasn't stepped foot in it before.

Thor opens his mouth to answer, but nothing but a little noise in the back of his throat comes out. He snaps his jaw shut and turn his head away from Loki sharply, humiliated. Curse his inane voice!

Loki doesn't push and they take a few more steps forward before Loki grabs at the nearest door and shoves it open. He shoves Thor inside and pulls it closed behind them, managing to find the lightswitch with minimal difficulty. The light immediately turns on and Thor's eyes scan over the familiar area, biting sharply at inner gums. This is Wanda's room. She preferred being closer to the exits, though Thor never knew her well enough to determine why. He's odd on and off visits between Ultron and Ragnarok didn't offer a great deal of time for anything but a basic aquantenince to perform between them.

Still, though, it feels strangely disrespectful to be in here.

Most of the items have been boxed and shoved into one corner and the furniture has blankets thrown over it. Thor can place this as the Witch's from the origami lamps and figures hanging from the ceiling. She was obsessed with it. She taught Thor how to make a swan, but the details have been lost to him.

Loki's gaze sweeps across the room before he grabs the chair in front of the desk and drags it out, shoving Thor towards it. Loki takes a seat on top of the desk as his face flinches with discomfort, a hand coming to press against his ribs again.

"Brother," Loki starts with some trepidation, "I don't...what happened?" To much to explain in a five minute period, yet so little that he could. Thor clears his throat, trying to get his tongue to work properly, but it, per usual now, remains tangled. Loki waits patiently for nearly twenty seconds before he shakes his head a little. "What happened to your voice? Did someone-You're barely said a word since we got back here."

Thor shrugs helplessly.

If he knew, he'd have fixed it by now.

Loki's eyes briefly close and he appears to gather himself, "Alright. I assure you that we'll fix this later, but we don't have the time right now. I doubt that your Avengers will be terribly lenient on the time frame." Half the universe's fate hangs in the balance. Thor would say they have reason to be. "Nonetheless," Loki shifts a little, pushing down heavily on one of his fingers and his hand flexes with discomfort. He's setting the bones and trying to not be obvious about it. Thor decides not to point this out.

"Just nod or shake your head," Loki instructs, and Thor feels relief cascade through him. Very few people have tried to be sympathetic this...this weakness, and most simply say they'll try later, or ignore him. Brunnhilde is really the only one who actively get frustrated or angry with him about it. Loki's gaze flicks towards the door for a moment, and then turns back to him. "Thanos...the Titan, did he...take your ability to articulate?"

Thor shakes his head no.

Loki's stance slumps a little, "Good. Are Asgard's survivors well?"

Thor nods.

"Am I dead in this timeline?"

Thor hesitates, before slowly giving an affirmative nod. Loki releases a soft breath, setting another bone in his hand and Thor tries not to wince. "You're gathering the Infinity Stones...and Thanos already snapped, which means he's already destroyed them, so how-no wait," Loki pauses, worrying his lip with his teeth as he attempts to figure out how to ask his question in a way that can be answered in yes or no. "The Captain had the scepter," Loki notes out loud and Thor tries not to uncomfortable that Loki knows that, but he can't help the slight worry that buzzes in the back of his mind anyway.

Taking Loki into a room with five of the six Infinity Stones was probably not the best idea, honestly. Any time that Loki has been near one has resulted in-no, he's not going to finish that thought. He's not pinning blame on Loki for the deaths. He's not.

"But the scepter was destroyed with the creation of Stark's...thing," Loki waves his hands, "the homicidal machine, and the one that pretended itself a man." Loki must have noticed his startled look and shakes his head sighing, "Thor, Asgard left two Infinity Stones on Midgard when you took the Tesseract and me back to Asgard. I was king for four years, I kept an eye on them in a effort to plan a way to remove them discreetly. Thanos would have slaughtered them in droves if he arrived to take either."

Oh.

Thor had...he knows that Asgard was perfectly aware that Loki was their king for at least a year before he arrived (he's heard from multiple Aesir of such, and he knows that Loki did so intentionally), but he didn't really think much else of what Loki did when he ruled. It...hadn't occurred to him to wonder.

Loki waves a hand, pulling him back to the present, "You collected me from the Statesmen, and if I'm dead here and the Good Captain has the scepter, then that means that he got it before the kill machine...but that would also indicate...that…" Loki stares at him looking utterly flabbergasted as something occurs to him, and then drops his head into one of his hands, "Oh, you morans. You broke the laws of time to collect the Stones, didn't you?"

What else were they supposed to do!? Let trillions lay in an unjust resting place? Thor doesn't even know if any were granted passage into Valhalla or not. Thor's tongue untangles suddenly, "It was the only thing that would work."

Loki startles at his voice, and looks up at him. "Brother, I-" he stops, and releases a harsh breath, "fine. Fine. Let me make sure I understand: Your plan is collect the Stones, use them to bring the dead back, and then...what? Return them to the time you stole them and hope that no one noticed they went missing?"

Thor makes a face. It sounds a lot stupider out loud, but it might just be Loki's skeptical tone. "Yes, that was pretty much it." Thor admits.

Loki's eyes flick towards the ceiling in irritation, muttering a choice word under his breath, "Well...I-Thor," Loki's eyebrows furrow suddenly, and he flicks his gaze towards him, "I know of at least seven separate times that the Tesseract is easier accessible than the Statesmen. Why would you choose then of all times?"

"I could save you on the Statesmen," Thor says simply. Loki's eyes widen and the rapid flexing of his broken-healed? Thor's not sure-hand stops. The shock stings a little. Does Loki really think that Thor wouldn't take the opportunity to save him if he could?

Loki's lips part to say something, but the door opens and Bruce pokes his head in, "Hi, sorry, Thor," he addresses, and Thor resists the urge to scowl. "The machine is ready, you need to go. The sooner we can get this over with, the better. All we need is the Aether and we're done. You'll be back in less than a minute."

A minute of this time, he could be on Asgard for hours.

Thor rises to his feet, and Loki slides off the desk, "I'm coming," he reassures. Bruce nods, and chances a hesitant glance towards Loki, who says nothing. The scientist pulls out of the room, but leaves the door open and walks down the hall.

Thor moves forward, but Loki's hand grabs his shoulder. He pauses, and looks back, "You're going back to the time of the convergence? With Miss Foster?" His voice is tight.

Jane. Jane. He-doesn't want to think about her. The wound has lessened with time, but it's still sharp. She was taken in the snap, so he never got the opportunity to apologize for the mess he made of their relationship.

Thor nods, and then realizes what Loki is actually asking. He lifts a hand to grip Loki's fingers, "Brother, I can't take Mother with me."

"Why not? You took me." Loki challenges, his tone desperate, "She dies that day, slaughtered like a pig for a banquet. We can-"

""We"?" Thor interrupts, "There isn't a "we" in this. You're not going with me."

Loki draws back a little, stance heated, "I'm not asking for permission. You pulled me back into this, and I'm not going to idly fret with my hair as you run through time and hope you don't make a mess of things. I can-"

"No." Thor argues.

"Thor-"

"No, as you're King, I command you to stand down. You have at least five broken ribs, a few fingers, and likely other injuries you're hiding. You were just in a war, I'm not going to let you run around on Asgard with that!"

"How to you expect to subdue Miss Foster without me?" Loki demands sharply, "Woo her with your good looks and charm hoping that she doesn't notice when you pull an Infinity Stone from her blood?" Loki snorts a little, "Good luck with that."

Thor's fists clench, "What would you have us do, then?"

"I have sedir, Brother," Loki reminds, "I can put her in a sleeping trance and hide you from the guards. Malekith will be starting his attack then, and you'll never get out through the chaos."

"We don't have to," Thor argues, lifting up his hand to wave the time-watch in Loki's face, "This will pull us out at any time."

Loki smacks his hand down, "Enough. I'm coming. Accept that."

"No." Thor argues. Loki's hands raise with some irritation.

"For the love of-I'm not going to run off. I'm not daft, I understand the pressing need of this."

"It has nothing to do with that!" Thor hisses heatedly, he knows that his voice is raising, but he can't quite quell it.

"Then what-!?"

Thor grabs Loki's upper arms tightly, "I can't protect you!" He bites at the tip of his tongue, and pleads with his voice's captor to wait a moment longer as he feels his throat closing. "You have been dead for five years, Loki. I thought-" he squeezes his eyes shut, "that I'd never see you again, and now you're here and alive. I know that you don't need the protection, but please grant me the peace of knowing that you're safe as I finish this."

Loki is quiet.

Thor sighs, before admitting lowly with reluctance: "I need to atone for what I did. I'm the reason that Thanos succeeded in the first place. I didn't...I didn't go for the head. I'm sorry, Loki, but please just wait here until I return."

Loki sighs with defeat, "Fine."

Thor squeezes Loki's shoulders with relief, resisting the absurd urge to draw him into a hug. "Thank you, Brother."

Loki wiggles from his grip, "You best be on with it before your Avengers drag you," he warns, and Thor's lips press together at the reminder. Yes. That. Will Loki be okay here while Thor is gone? It's less than a minute in this time, but still.

Loki can take care of himself. Thor is merely fretting. Stupidly fretting.

The two of them exit Wanda's room at last, and walk down the hall side by side in silence. Thor can't think of anything to say, and Loki doesn't look like he wants to speak. Thor presses his lips together tightly and tries to remind himself that it's just a minute, and he can deal with this when he gets back. His voice has been stolen, again, though, and Thor doesn't know if he can get it to relent this time.

But Loki did bring up a point. How are they supposed to silently take the Aether from Jane if she's awake? Malekith managed, but he was using sedir, not some extraction device that Rocket says has a twelve percent chance of actually working. Tony couldn't come up with anything better, and their combined efforts didn't help much.

This is a mess.

If he'd just-

No. He doesn't have time for that right now.

Thor sighs under his breath and steps into the garage. The other Avengers are still waiting, though Thor realizes that Nebula and Rhodes are missing. Rocket shoulders a large gun over his shoulder, "You ready Sparkly-Butt?"

Thor nods, the absence of Stormbreaker once again evident. He can't believe he left it on the Statesmen. He and Loki fought, and then Thor never picked it up again. Stupid.

Rocket hums, and his gaze lingers on Loki for a moment before he gives a jerky wave, "Well. Okay. See you, Thor's brother. Avengers."

Thor and Rocket slip up the steps to stand on the platform, but he pauses as he sees Tony slip in front of Loki. "You had your five minutes. Quid pro quo, remember? We did something for you; how do we get Nat back?"

Thor shares a quick glance with Rocket to confirm that the Guardian can wait just a moment. If Loki knows any way to reverse what the Soul Stone did, Thor will gladly take it. He doesn't care the cost.

Loki shifts his weight from his right side and folds his arms across his chest. "What I know of the Soul Stone is admittedly limited. Asgard has-had it's resources, but most of what I learned of it came from a place I don't feel inclined to share. A soul for a soul is what I've heard, but what I know is that Agent Romanov gave her soul for the Stone. But this isn't the first time the trade has been done, Stark."

And that-

The Soul Stone has been traded for before...but if that is the case, then the Stone has to go back to whatever hole it crawled out of to make the trade again, otherwise it should have been running around the universe like the other five. Natasha and Gamora's lives were given for the Stone, but they couldn't have done that unless the Stone was returned.

"What are you saying?" Clint's voice is barely above a breath.

Loki's gaze flicks to the archer for a moment before returning to Tony, "I'm saying that you have to bargain for her soul again. She was traded for the Stone, you have to trade the Stone for her."

Clint presses the back of his hand against his mouth. Thor's breath catches in his chest. They can still save Natasha. They can still bring her back. She's not dead. Not really. They can still fix this.

"What do we have to do?" Steve questions.

Loki shakes his head and shrugs a little, "I'm uncertain. I've never traded for it before, and the only person I suspect has is on Alfheim. Rotting, I should add, he's been dead for over two centuries." Loki rubs at his forehead as if trying to keep back a headache, "Thirst for knowledge satisfied? You've made a mess of time and broken the laws of Yggdrasil, but who am I to judge?"

Steve's stance shifts a little, "Do you know anything else about the Stone?"

"No," Loki promises, "but even if I did, why would I tell you?"

"Okay, girls calm down," Scott prompts, "we need to get the Aether and chatting is kind of delaying that. Thor, Rocket, you should leave."

Thor shifts back into attention and nods, glancing at the rabbit again. He gives a small jerk of his head, and Thor raises his hand towards the time-watch, catching Loki's eye for a second. It's just a minute here. It's just a minute. What's the worst that can happen in a minute?

Thor twists the watch and sees Rocket do the same. The space suit spreads across his frame, and Bruce presses something on the control key and he and Rocket are jerked backwards through space and time.

They land on Asgard, track down Jane's quarters with minimal difficulty and Thor stands outside of the door with sweaty hands and a wildly beating heart. He should have let Loki come because this would have been so much easier to have Jane simply be unconscious instead of having to talk to her and-

You do not belong here.

-and runs smack face-first in someone. Thor stumbles backwards in a dazed panic and grabs at the arms of the other person to steady them, apologies bubbling out of his throat. He should have been looking, Norns curse it all, because now he's possibly compromised the mission entirely and-

"Thor?"

Oh Norns.

Thor's hands snap away from his mother entirely, and his senses buzz deeply in distress as his chest heaves with open panic. Oh, Norns, norns, norns-he broke the laws of time. Loki would have flat out murdered him on the spot if he was with them.

His mother is right here and-

"Son? What's of the matter? I thought that you…" Frigga trails, and then stops as her gaze settles on his face. He's never been terribly self conscious of the eye-patch before, but suddenly he wishes he hadn't thrown out Rocket's offering of an eye in the midst of a dazed panic.

"I'm, uhm," Thor stutters out, and then glances towards Rocket and grabs at the time-watch, twisting it firmly. They can try this again. They can take the Aether from its undisturbed resting peace some millennia before this, and not have to deal with Jane again period.

Or his mother.

He sees Rocket take the cue from the corner of his eye and twists his own watch, but nothing happens. There is no now familiar lurch through time as they're shrunk, no armor spreading over their bodies. The time-watch is locked, but it doesn't do anything.

Horror drops to his toes.

No.

No.

This wasn't supposed to happen!

They were supposed to collect the Aether and then leave! That would be that. No more of this running around nonsense and-A loud expletive escapes him, and he twists at the watch again, and again, and again-but doesn't get any different results.

They aren't going back.

They're stuck in 2013.

"...You're not my Thor, are you?" Frigga murmurs softly, and Thor looks up at her desperately.

"You're not supposed to see me," he hisses, "I've made enough messes as it is! I don't need to leave this one on the day that you're to d-" Frigga presses a hand against his lips, and Thor's eyes widen as he realizes what he almost did.

Frigga gives a little headshake, "I was raised by witches, boy. I know how to handle time warps," she sighs slightly and looks down the hall at the sound of the Einherjar. Frigga grabs at his wrist and beings to pull him forward. To dazed and shocked to be doing much else, Thor follows after her wordlessly. "Come," Frigga insists, waving a hand towards Rocket.

"I swear, lady," Rocket hisses under his breath, gripping a hand around his gun, "no attempted murders."

Frigga's lips curve up, "None," she swears.

She tugs them into a small room that Thor knows is used as a music room for the children of the servants and aids of the palace, and forces them to take a seat on one of the couches. Thor sees Rocket continuing to fiddle with the time-watch from the corner of his eye, but nothing changes.

Frigga sits down on the small table in front of them, her eyes lingering on Rocket's device for a long moment. "What are you doing here?" She questions calmly. Her serenity makes Thor want to grab at his hair and scream. The pressure refuses to alleviate, and he has no idea how to make this any better.

Thor makes a little noise in the back of his throat, and Rocket flicks a hand, "Yeah, sorry, Majesty, but he doesn't talk no more. I'm the interpreter."

Thor's gaze flicks to his feet in humiliation.

He's supposed to be better than this.

"What?" Frigga murmurs, and gently tips his chin up so he's looking at her again, "Did something happen to your tongue?"

Thor gives a slow shake of his head.

"Your voice?"

Another shake.

Frigga's eyes narrow, and Rocket rests a reassuring hand on Thor's upper arm for a second, "Yeah, a diagnosis hasn't been satisfactorily determined yet, so I wouldn't push. Augh!" He hisses as one of the wires in the watch zaps him.

"What is this?" His mother questions, lifting up the device on Thor's hand.

"Means of travel," Rocket grumbles, "but it's broken."

Thor makes a little noise in the back of his throat and tilts his head forward to rest against his knees. Oh, Norns above, this is a disaster. He's never going back to 2023. He's not going to see Loki again, nor the other Avengers, they won't reverse the snap, and Thanos will remain victor.

He failed.

"Ah." Frigga hums, "Would you mind giving me and my son a moment alone? There's a room extended to this that has musical instruments. If you don't touch anything, you are welcome to continue to fiddle there. When we have finished, I can attempt to help you with my sedir."

Thor almost sees the raccoon roll his eyes, but he nonetheless gets to his feet. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure magic will solve all of this."

Frigga doesn't say anything in response, and Rocket exits the room.

"Thor," Frigga's voice is gentle, and she rests a hand on his head softly. Thor flinches to it, but his mother doesn't draw her hand away, instead beginning to stroke his hair. A warm feeling washes through him, and Thor nearly vomits. Frigga's sedir. Checking him for injuries, because she doesn't trust that he would tell her the truth.

Reasonable.

But it still stings.

"My darling son," Frigga sighs, and gently begins to untangle a knot, "you look haggard. When was the last time you ate something?"

Thor shrugs.

He can feel the stare of her disapproval, and shrivels beneath it. Frigga's hands settle on his head for a second, and the sensation is oddly comforting. Warm. "Hmm. Worry not, Dearheart, I am not angry."

Everyone is.

Somewhere, she probably is, too.

Thor sighs.

"Thor," Frigga's voice is gentle, "you are safe here. You must know that."

Thor lifts his head to look up at her and she slides her hands down to take his, blue eyes gently searching his face. How...how does this matter if he is safe or not? He swallows and parts his lips, trying to fight at that awful monster that grabs at his voice.

His first attempt fails, as does his second, but Frigga is patient and doesn't let irritation show on her face.

It's reassuring.

Thor mouths the words several times before a proper, squeaked syllable slips out: "Sorry." His mind reels with this revelation. He spoke. He always has to wait for the monster to release him before he can find success in this, and he didn't. How…?

Frigga gently smooths her thumb over his palm, and the sensation of her touch makes his skin coil beneath the surface in discomfort. "What for?" Frigga questions.

Thor swallows again, trying not to get his hopes up to high should this attempt fail as well, "I...failed you, 'm sorry," Thor flicks his wide eyes to their feet, but Frigga tilts his face back up to him, waiting until he's met her eyes before she speaks:

"I'm certain that, given whatever happened, you tried your hardest. That's all that matters to me, Thor."

Gaining confidence, Thor blurts out: "But I let everyone die." Frigga's brow furrows a little and Thor begins to explain, but the further he goes along the faster his voice picks up speed: "All of them, Mother, and I didn't...this man gathered the Infinity Stones together and killed have half population, everywhere, and it's my fault because I didn't go for the head and now the Avengers are furious at me and I was supposed to fix this, but instead I let Loki die and now me and Rocket are stuck here because the time-watches aren't working and we didn't get the Aether to fix what happened, and, and, and-the blood falls onto my hands. I've spent the last few years hearing that too much to think about anything else.

"I'm so sorry mother, I'm sorry that you have a failure for a son, I'm not worthy to be speaking with you," Thor breathes out the last part, and Frigga makes the face he's long since come to associate with when she's uncertain how to respond. She makes a little humming noise.

.

.

[THEY GO TO THE DARK WORLD]

And-oh. Loki moves forward stiffly, trying to keep himself grounded, but the sensation of seeing his corpse is nothing sort of jolting. He's created illusions before, yes, but both Thor and he knew what was going to happen. This was unexpected, and where the blade pierced sings with a whispered pain.

Loki draws up beside him, and rests a hand on Thor's shoulder wordlessly. Thor's gaze lifts to him, and Loki feels the jump beneath his fingers. His mouth opens soundlessly, but beyond a slight squeak, nothing else verbalizes.

Clint's breath escapes him in a little puff, but he breathes out steadily, trying to keep his hands from shaking. This was an awful idea. This was an awful, awful idea. What was he thinking? It would all work out just because he willed it to? That's not how anything works, and he's become a painful benefactor of that realization since he was born.

God, please, if you're listening, don't...don't let this go as terribly as I'm thinking. Thanks.

"You're going to attract Dragr, calm yourself," Loki whispers with some bite beside him, and Clint has to keep himself from physically jumping at the high-pitched wail of his borrowed voice. Clint doesn't even know the agent that he stole from, and it feels like he should. He doesn't frequent London, though, so he wouldn't know the poor sod.

"Attract what?" Clint questions in confusion and tilts his body to allow another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to pass between the two of them. He's careful, as instructed, not to let the busy operative touch or brush against him.

Gosh, this was a terrible idea.

Why did he agree to go? (Thor is the only other person who somewhat knows what he's doing with Steve, stupid. Taking both the Asgardians would have been another one of those awful ideas you're famous for).

It's supposed to be simple. Clint can handle simple. Loki looks perfectly relaxed with his borrowed face, so Clint has no idea why the anxiety keeps festering.

You do not belong here.

Clint shakes off the whisper, and turns the hall sharply when Loki does. After they've passed two more agents, Loki glances at him. "Dragr. Raised spirits of the restless dead. Don't you have those here?"

"Yeah." Clint affirms, "They're called ghosts. How is my anxiety going to attract them? They smell fear?"

Loki gives him one of those knowing looks. Something Clint's become all-too familiar with since Thor dragged his sorry butt back from the Statesmen three days ago. "They feed off of negative energy," Loki explains offhandedly. "The aura is getting stronger. We're close. Are you ready?"

No.

"Yes," Clint assures, glancing down the hall to check for any more stray agents before he flicks his gaze up towards the security cameras. Steve is waiting on them, and they really need to get the Aether quickly. Loki really should still be there, but they didn't have much of a choice.

Clint is a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and therefore familiar with the barracks basic layout, and Loki can cloak them. If they'd just gotten the stupid Stone before Dr. Foster lost it to Malekith, that would have been grand. Instead, they spent a majority of that day panicking as Loki bled a "demon" from Steve's head. The purge itself took a little under a minute, but he was warding off further attempts for the rest of the morning.

It was horrifying.

Clint has never seen Steve bleed so freely from his face. Maybe that's why he jumped ship, too. He can't stand to wipe more blood as the named demon tries to slip into the captain's head again.

Demons.

Because yeah. Those are a thing, apparently. This is turning out to be one of the worst and strangest handful of days of his life, only topped by the Vanishing. They should have left Loki with Steve. At least then he would have had the reassurance that should the demon-thing attack again, Loki could stop it.

Now they're running around London's S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters so they can steal the Aether and bring it back to Asgard, and then finally go home. Maybe. That depends on Steve's condition.

Demons.

Who-?

Loki stops in front of a door suddenly, and it takes every ounce of self control Clint still possess to not barrel into him. He rocks forward on his toes and shifts his weight back to his heals as Loki rests a palm flat on the surface. "It's in here," he murmurs softly.

Clint nods. Alright. They can do this.

Curse the stupid demon. They'd already have the Aether if it wasn't for them.

He draws an arrow from his quiver and turns, locating the camera for this hall after a second. He draws back to his cheek and squints a little before firing. The arrow lands with a solidified thump and Clint sees the eletrictly bounce from the tip into the camera, shutting it down completely.

Clint draws another arrow, and anxiously flexes his fingers around his bow with his right hand. "That's two minutes before they swarm us," Clint announces, turning back to the Asgardian. Loki nods absentmindedly, hands over the keypad with some sort of white-yellow-thing. It sort of looks like a sheet of glass, but misty and dripping.

Loki flexes his hands over the center of the white-thing and the door flashes green a moment later, unlocking with a soft hiss. Loki pushes the door open, mist fading. Clint follows after him, bow at the ready and fires at the two guards with stun before they have time to react.

The two bodies hit the ground with a thump, and Clint does a quick survey of the room. It's about as big as a basic storage unit in any other S.H.I.E.L.D. base Clint's seen, but the one difference is that it is completely void of anything save a small table in the middle where a glass compartment is sitting. It reminds Clint of the storage unit the Tesseract was in as Thor used it to return to Asgard, but it's only purpose seems to be holding the Aether, not using it.

The Stone looks...not how Clint was expecting. Thor mentioned it was fluid back at base-before everything, before Vorimir, before-so he didn't expect it to be a solid Stone like the others were. But it's still weird. It looks like floating, angry Kool Aid.

"Okay," Clint breathes out slowly, shutting the door behind them. It locks with a soft hiss. "We got it. Let's get back to the others so we can leave this stupid crap behind us, yeah?"

Are there cameras? Clint didn't immediately see any when he stepped into the room, but he does another quick check. The goal of this is to be as invisible as possible.

Loki doesn't answer, moving forward quietly towards the table. Something has changed about his posture, and it has nothing to do with the figure he shape-shifted into twenty minutes prior when they snuck into the base. His bones made the weirdest grinding noise and Clint is never going to think about broken bones the same again.

"Loki?" Clint questions hesitantly, moving towards the Asgardian.

Something isn't right.

You do not belong-yeah, yeah, I know, shut up.

Loki's lips are pressed into a thin line before he slowly lifts his hands up over the glass. The Aether moves towards the Asgardian's hands as if drawn there, and Clint represses a jump as it slams against the glass. It's only a faint little tink noise, but it's unsettling.

These Stones are alive.

He'd be better off not to forget that.

It moved.

Oh, gosh, it moved towards Loki.

And-what the heck is he-Loki's pulled a dagger from somewhere and Clint has half a second to process a state of confusion, and then "well that can't be good" before Loki jams the weapon into the glass. It immediately cracks, and something in Clint's stomach flips. What the heck is he-

The sound of the cracking snaps him from his reverie, and Clint grabs at the Asgardian's forearm and wishes with an aching sort of soreness in his chest that Thor had agreed to go with them.

Why did he have to agree to this.

Thor would have been better. Heck, Rocket would have been better, and he and Loki aren't exactly on good terms.

"What are you doing?" Clint hisses, noting with some horror that the Aether is beginning to swim towards the cracks. No, he changes his first statement. It's not Kool Aid. It's fine grands of sand. Loki pulls that dagger out and it's going to come spilling out. What will they do then?

Loki attempts to squirm from Clint's grip without success before a sharp pain ripples across his stomach. Clint staggers back from the kick, hand releasing the Asgardian as a wheeze slips through startled his lips.

Loki agreed to-

What is he doing-?

("We missed the window. What are we going to do? I don't know how to fight off a bloody demon, but someone has to get that stupid Stone."

"Yes."

"So we do what, exactly, Psychopath? Run around? We need to get the Aether."

"I know. Thor knows enough about basic treatment to keep the captain's brain from exploding while you and I retrieve the Aether on Earth. S.H.I.E.L.D. claimed it for a few days, yes? Before Thor took it back to Asgard again.")

Loki twists the dagger, forming a bigger hole and Clint swears softly under his breath. No. This can't be happening. Loki was...he doesn't know. But he was helping. He saved Steve's life. Clint thought that it...what was he thinking? Just because Loki pulls a demon from Steve's head that it immediately means he's going to help them fix the problem?

This man worked for Thanos six years ago.

He stole Clint's mind.

He slaughtered innocents in the Attack of New York.

None of this would have happened if Loki hadn't dragged Thanos's attention to Earth in the first place. Nat would still be alive. Laura and his kids. Tony's kid. Wanda. Sam. If Asgard hadn't left that stupid cube on Earth for who-knows-how-long, then the blood of innocents wouldn't be pooling at their feet.

And now Loki plans on doing something else to wash their hands red with.

Why did he agree so easily to let freakin' Loki be the second operative on this mission? He's a wild card. He's not their ally. He's not their friend. He doesn't care about them. This isn't betrayal, because Clint had never expected him to help them finish this in the first place.

Clint draws his bow and raises an arrow to his cheek, "Put down the container." His voice is flat. It isn't a request.

Loki looks up at him. His face is placid, but his eyes are a whirlwind of emotions he can't place that well. Raw. Panic. Something else. The Asgardian's lip twitches a little. "As you wish, Hawk."

Loki drops it. Clint lurches to grab it, but he's too late. (Always too late). The glass slams into the hard ground in between them, and it shatters immediately from the pre-broken area.

Clint staggers backwards as the Aether surges free of its prison, hissing and whispering around their feet. An awful dread seizes his chest, and his heart picks up speed. The headache dully present in the back of his mind flares and his stomach lurches.

The Aether swims across the ground, prodding and poking at everything. Clint's lips twist with horror as he scrambles away, trying to find higher ground where the thing won't touch him. The red sandy-angry Kool Aid, swirls towards his boots before it's suddenly jerked backwards. Clint's gaze follows the Stone from his feet to the source of the pull and sees that Loki is...calling the red substance to him. It's snaking up his arms and Clint's eyes widen with disgust as he realize that Loki is, in fact, absorbing it into his skin.

No.

No, no, no.

This wasn't supposed to happen!

Loki staggers to his knees, inhaling raggedly as he shakes and Clint turns his head away as he hears the awful popping sound of joints clicking in and out of place as Loki shape-shifts. The cold feeling of Loki's illusion wrapped around his skin ceases, and Clint flicks his head up. Loki is on his hands and knees, still, hand clawing at his throat as he coughs.

Move.

There's still time to fix this.

Clint shoves himself forward, and raises his bow firing an arrow from stiff fingers. What would have been a perfect kill shot through Loki's skull is repelled as a red orbish-like dome deflects it violently. Clint is thrown back towards the opposing wall, hard, and his heart twists with an ache as his thoughts stray first to Wanda.

She's not here. This isn't hers.

So what was that? Didn't...ugh, Clint struggles to pull up memories of the reports. He remembers reading somewhere, maybe Thor told him, but the Aether has a defensive system. It won't let it's host be harmed, and Clint trying to shove an arrow through Loki's head constitutes that, apparently.

Great.

What now?

Breathing unsteadily, Clint pulls himself off the ground to see that Loki has somewhat shoved himself to his own, gripping at the table like it's his only support. Faintly, his mind registers the sounds of S.H.I.E.L.D. beginning to break through the door, but that seems to triveal.

Clint draws another arrow, "Is this all some sort of game to you?" He seethes, "People's lives are on the line."

Loki coughs, wiping something that looks like blood from the side of his mouth. "I am aware, Hawk," his voice has lost the control, and now sounds hoarse and sickly. "It is why I have to do this."

"Do what?" Clint demands, advancing forward slowly.

S.H.I.E.L.D. is getting closer. Clint can hear them shouting.

Loki shakes his head, "You wouldn't understand."

Probably not, but that's a good thing, right? Clint doesn't exactly want to be privy to what runs around a murderer's mind. (Look in the mirror and you'll know, Barton).

A faint moan whispers from the sorcerer's lips, and Loki looks like he's trying very hard not to be sick all over the floor. Clint shakes his head with disgust. He knew this was coming. He should have seen it sooner, but he knew it was coming.

S.H.I.E.L.D. is beginning to break through the door.

Loki is holding the Aether. He is still technically a carrier. Clint has to take him back. (How? Loki was the one who got them here in the first place). Without much thought on it, Clint dives forward and tackles Loki fully to the floor. They briefly struggle for a second before Clint slams a fist into Loki's left shoulder.

He doesn't realize until Loki cries out loudly that that was the shoulder that Rocket shot three days ago.

...Whoops?

The door breaks open and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents begin to pour into the room, shouting words that Clint doesn't hear very clearly. It sounds almost murky. A dull panic thrums in his stomach (they weren't supposed to see them! Crap, crap, crap-).

Loki's wild eyes meet with his for a brief second before he grabs at Clint's wrist tightly and slams his other fist against the ground. The solid feeling vanishes completely as they tumble through open space in the teleportation.

They leave S.H.I.E.L.D. behind to gape at where they were standing.

You do not belong here.

Rather than the tumbling through space and time for eternity like Clint was half expecting, or Loki to simply leave him there, they stumble back onto the field of Asgard.

Later, after Thor has had a proper amount of time to scowl at them silently as Rocket yells and waves his gun around, Clint overhears Loki quietly crying. It's so off-character that it takes Clint a second to recognize the noise for what it is.

Thor stormed off to clear his head ten minutes ago, and Rocket is...doing some sort of Rocket thing out of view. Clint was left in charge of looking after Steve, and Loki was sort of scowled into sitting down against a rock and told not to move. Clint really can't much of the conversation, and somewhere he's pretty sure that's not a good thing.

Loki's skin has stretched and he's waxy and pale. He looks sick.

And he's crying.

After a small internal battle, Clint sits down next to him. Loki immediately stiffens, and Clint blows out a breath. "You're an egotistical moron. I hate you." He says sincerely. "There. We can pretty well clear up that I'm not going to shower you with pity. But tears? You already caused a mess. Weeping because you wanted it to be worse?"

Loki softly closes his eyes, openly wincing a second later and rubbing at where his heart is located underneath his clothing. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "I didn't…" another wince with a following grimace, "think that this would...happen."

An apology?

What?

Clint lifts an eyebrow. "You and I both know that you only agreed to help me get the Aether so you could steal it. I'm not stupid."

Loki gives a flat laugh, "No. No. But I was supposed…" he shakes his head, rubbing at his temples, "reality would fold to my will, and I was going to save my mother...but it was a foolish impulse...not much more. It wouldn't have been fair to her or me, but I…" he trails, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

An underlying hiss of worry releases suddenly, and Clint can really only blink. His thoughts have skittered, hiccuped, and then proceeded but he can't make any sense of the mesh left behind. Loki was...oh.

No malicious plot, then.

Just an attempt to…

Oh.

Clint doesn't want to ask, but does anyway after flicking a glance towards Steve to check on him, "But…?"

Loki lifts up his hands and Clint sees a red pulsing through his palms. The Aether. It looks so gross beneath skin. "It's eating me." Clint doubletakes at the admission, lips parting openly with surprise. Loki shakes his head, "Specifically, my sedir. I can't use it. I was going to save her, and I can't without the Aether stopping my heart."

Loki grits his jaw and slams his head back against the rock in anger. He looks gutted.

Clint can't think of anything to say, so he doesn't.

Loki doesn't speak again until Steve wakes up.

Thor rests a hand on his shoulder to steady him, and a sickening realization settles like lead in bones, "How long was I out?" He questions, and the four look between each other before Rocket gives a little breath.

"About three days."

Steve's eyes widen, and a loud expletive slips from his lips. The Aether. They were supposed to get the Aether, and this means that their window of opportunity is gone. They were waiting for the morning, but if the morning never came and it didn't-

Steve scrambles up, but his feet don't like that idea and he's tumbling to his knees, Clint bracing him a moment later. "No, no, no," Steve says, letting out a frustrated breath, "we were supposed to get the Stone, and we didn't-"

"We did," Rocket says, helping Clint shove him back into a sitting position. "We couldn't risk travel with you like this and Loki is the only person would help, so we haven't gone back to 2023 yet, but we have it. Calm down."

Confusion flutters through him, but it's not unusual now. This feels like a disaster. "I don't…" Steve starts, trailing, but Loki releases a little breath and lifts up his palm beneath Steve's eyes. Interwoven between faint blood vessels, Steve can make out a thick red one that doesn't look natural. He's hasn't seen the Aether in person, only videos of London, but he recognizes it all the same.

He lifts his gaze to Loki, horrified, "You-"

The sickly pallor of his skin, and the over all corpse-like-state of his appearance makes an awful sense now. Loki has an Infinity Stone in his blood.

"The Aether has a defense system," Loki begins, and now that he's listening for it, he can hear the rattle in the voice, "and when we attempted to inject Ms. Foster with Rocket's needle, it almost set that off. Given that we were in a confined space and my past and Thor's past selves mere feet in front of us, we couldn't risk it. I absorbed it from Ms. Foster."

"Then…" Steve trails, looking around them, "Where are we?"

You have got to be freakin' kidding me.

A little over two days with almost no contact, no explanations for the wait beyond Steve's crypt message, no reason to not fear that they've all been brutally slaughtered, and Tony has to be the one on guard when the five finally do collapse back onto the platform.

He was even being nice. It was supposed to be Bruce's shift, but one hard stare at his fellow scientist's face caused Tony to stem his desire to sleep and he sent him back to bed. They'd been keeping a watch on the platform since they re-callbuirated it to bring the others back here, and without any immediate successes, but no panicked words from Steve beyond the fact that Thor and Rocket failed to collect the Aether, Tony had assumed they were only delayed.

He didn't want to contemplate other possibilities, so he was happily living in his bubble of ignorance until they would arrive again.

But he didn't want to be the one on duty when they did stumble back into the proper time again. Let alone in the middle of the night with half a brain and fumes from mostly stolen coffee via Natasha's supply. She has a small section dedicated to when she needed to stay awake, and it is some of worst, most bitter tasting drink he has ever had in his life.

Well, a part of him quietly muses as he jumps, swearing loudly at the five's sudden return, at least the math worked this time.

You have got to be freakin' kidding me.

"Tony!" Clint's voice rings up first among the scattered mess, but Tony is already on his feet, coffee on the table, and rapidly taking the steps needed to cross the distance between them. Steve is strung up across Clint's shoulders, looking as if he got hit by a bus. His hair is sticking up in weird angles, and he's pale, waxy, with dark circles under his eyes.

On his left is Thor, with Loki lifted in his arms in a bridal style that probably would have made Tony laugh out loud or make some nasty joke if it was any other circumstance. Thor's face is still thin, and his eye wildly flitting across everything. He can't tell much from the harsh angle, but Loki looks outright dead with floppy limbs, bruises, and what the heck is wrong with his skin? Is it glowing?

Between the two disasters is Rocket, who looks remarkably unharmed, if a little ruffled.

Tony swears again, and moves forward to Clint first, because Steve is hanging off of the archer and needs to be supported from both sides. "What the heck happened? A building fall on you?" He questions harshly, but he and Clint move forward in unspoken agreement to get to the medical room. The others follow after them wordlessly.

"No," Steve grumbles, but his voice is raspy. Awake, then, that's good.

"I wish," Clint answers. "Would've been easier to deal with."

How?

"FRIDAY, prep the med room and tell Bruce to get his butt down there faster than escape velocity." Tony commands, "Loki's unconscious-" dead? "-and Cap's getting there."

"Am not." Steve protests, and Tony resists the sudden and very strong urge to hit him, or rattle him back and forth until the brains he knows are in there turn back on. Were they hit by some sort of defense system? How hard is it to get an Infinity Stone out of a woman who's barely above five feet?

"In that phrasing, Boss?" FRIDAY snarks, and Tony catches one of her camera's with a scowl.

"Brat," he mutters under his breath.

"Dr. Banner has been alerted to the situation," FRIDAY assures about a minute later, "he's on his way."

They make it to medical about six minutes later, and, as Clint helps Steve onto one of the cots, Tony turns around to help Thor lay Loki down. The Asgardian's breath is making weird hitching noises, and it doesn't sound full or very rhythmatic. He can't see any obvious injury, but it must be there somewhere for the Asgardian to be reacting this terribly.

And-what on earth is wrong with his skin?

Tony turns back to Steve, but beyond helping Clint battle him into laying down, he feels oddly helpless. He's trained in basic medical procedure, but really not enough to help anything like this.

Rocket climbs up onto the bed beside Steve, expression grim, "Stark," he addresses, and Tony turns to him. "We've got to get the Aether out of him," Rocket gestures behind Tony, and he whirls to follow the claw to Loki. The Aether is...it's...oh. Well crap.

"What the heck happened to a containment!?" Tony demands, "You had your tubey-needle-thing. It was supposed to hold it!"

"Well, surprise sunshine, It didn't!" Rocket answers, voice firm and frayed, "No one warned me that the Aether has a defense system to protect its host. It didn't take well to when I tried to stab him in the arm after the idiot freakin' absorbed it."

Absorbed-!?

"Why would he absorb it!?"

"Because Clint is a klutz-" Clint fidgets at Rocket's words visibly, enough to catch Tony's attention, "-and dropped the stupid container it was in, and glass shatters. Especially when it's pathetic Terran glass, and not meant to be holding an Infinity Stone that can literally fold reality and doesn't take well to being held captive. So yeah, we didn't have many options."

That's not the whole story.

It's a terrible lie.

A quick glance towards Clint's face reaffirms this thought in his head again, but Tony doesn't push like he wants to. It seems better to let this one lie out of his hands.

Tony knows that his face is showing open agitation. More than he would like, but he can't wipe it from his features. The Aether. The Aether is in the psychopathic invader who, more than a decade ago, tried to kill all of them, conquer the planet, and destroyed the lives of hundreds of people. Tony saw footage from London, he knows what a massive mess the Aether can make, and that is in Loki's blood.

Can he use it?

Gosh, he hates this.

Who's idea was it to drag Loki back with them as a guide? Because Tony's going to hit them.

Tony breathes out slowly, trying to ground himself. He wants to talk to Pepper, but that's not an option right now. He turns back to Rocket, "What do we do? If we can't just stab him with a needle, then…?"

"I don't know," Rocket admits, shrugging, "but we need to get it out."

"Tony," Steve's voice is weak, but Tony ignores it. Dang it, this wasn't supposed to be his job. Rocket assured them that he could handle it, and, having more experience in that department than any of the rest of them, Tony had completely let him have at it.

"Tony," Steve tries again.

Tony waves a hand, "You're not stupid. Fix it." He demands. Tony will only make it worse if he tries, but Rocket will be successful. Tony trusts him with that.

Rocket scowls at him a little, but it's less murderous than previous expressions, so Tony takes some comfort in that.

"Tony," Steve whispers, and Tony whirls around to face him, trying to keep irritation off his face.

"What?" His voice is harder than he meant for it to be, but Steve doesn't seem deeply unsettled by this fact. Clint is still standing next to him, watching the captain with an expression that Tony can't quite place. It's something similar to what he was wearing after they pulled Tasha and Steve out of Japan.

Steve licks his chapped lips, lifting up a hand to grab at his forearm, his blue eyes earnest, "Wanda was-"

The door to the room is thrown open at last, and Bruce steps into the room. His hair is sticking in multiple directions, and Tony is filled with a sudden pang that, despite how exhausted his teammate looks, they can't send Bruce back to bed. Whatever happened they need him to be here for. They don't have any choice on the matter.

He wishes they did.

Bruce looks between them all, eyes calculating and assessing data before he sighs deeply. "Who's the most dead?" He questions. His voice is laced with an attempt at humor and this is somewhat reassuring. At least Tony can rest in peace knowing that Bruce isn't going to hold this against him for the rest of his life.

Humor is good.

All hands lift, almost in sync, to Loki's prone form on the hospital bed. There isn't any question, and Tony thinks that, given a different set of circumstances, the utter agreement between them all would have been hilarious. For right now, it isn't.

Bruce's lip twitches up in a slight smile before he moves towards the Asgardian. His fingers press for a pulse, but Tony cant see his expression from this angle. Given how pale Thor has gone, it isn't anything good.

"Alright, everyone out," Bruce commands, turning back to them and waves his hands, "I have sick people to care for and none of you are helping. You're distracting me."

Rude.

"Do you need an assistant?" The words are his. He's pretty sure, but they sound faint. Distant. Unconnected from himself. Realities away.

"I have one," Bruce says, opening a cabinet and pulling out a handful of supplies, "FRIDAY. If I need another set of hands, I'll call someone in," he promises, and looks over at them again. "For now, go sit down. Get some food." He scowls when none of them move. "Now."

Reluctantly, they slip from the room. Thor closes the door behind them, his hand lingering on the handle as Rocket slumps against the ground letting out a faint groan. "I am done," he declares, "absolutely done."

Tony breathes out quietly and nods, "Yeah. Foods in the fridge."

"That means moving," Rocket grumbles, but nonetheless gets to up with a heaved breath.

.

"So the Aether?" Tony probes Clint, and sees the archer's spin stiffen a little, "I've received dozens of lies about what happened, and I expect the truth and nothing but the truth from you, Birdbrain."

"This isn't court." Clint counters.

Tiredly, Steve slowly blinks his eyes open to see a thick overcast of clouds. He's squinting up at them, trying to make sense of why it's significant, when Rocket's head blocks his vision. The raccoon gives him a hard stare before turning to look away, "He's awake!"

Was he sleeping?

Steve slowly makes his way into a sitting position and has about a second to congratulate himself on doing that much before a hand slams against his forehead. He jumps, making a pained noise as he feels a forgien presence whisper in the back of his mind before retreating.

"Anything?" Clint asks warily, and Steve looks up to see him standing behind Loki's right. The Asgardian is squatted down next to him with a furrowed expression, and Thor is behind his sibling's left with a similar face.

"Not so far," Loki answers.

"...is that good?" Clint presses, and Loki gives a mirthless huff.

"That's hard to determine, Hawk," the Asgardian says, and then turns to him. The full extent of his attention is almost stifling, and Steve can't quite help when he draws away a little. Loki pulls his hand away from Steve's forehead; staring at him like he's some sort of puzzle. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," Steve admits reluctantly, "mostly confused. What happened?"

A look passes between the four, and Clint's lips thin tightly as Loki's face pinches a little. "From what I understand, someone invaded your mind last night."

Steve feels his face pale and drop with horror and surprise. It wasn't a dream. Oh, gosh, it wasn't a dream, but it should have been because that wasn't "someone" that was Wanda. She's been in his thoughts before. Sometimes in their missions she would open telepathic links between them when comms broke down or it was necessary for stealth. He's felt her in his head before enough to recognize her, and there is no way that should be possible.

"Wanda!" Steve blurts out without meaning to, and, like a five-year-old that's said a bad word, promptly slams his hands over his mouth. Loki's expression furrows further, but Steve sees the others' faces dawn with recognition.

Clint regains himself first, and his voice is shaky, "You felt her? How?"

Loki lifts up a hand before Steve can answer, "Who is Wanda?"

A flurry of answers immediately spills from every mouth but Thor's, yet Loki doesn't seem frustrated by the overlapping words in the slightest. He listens until they all quiet, and then turns to Thor. "Midgard's sorcerers can't do telepathy."

How does he know that?

Thor shrugs and makes a so-so gesture with his hands.

Loki's lips purse slightly before he shakes his head and looks back at Steve, "Regardless, this woman attempted to invade your head, but the distance between you two was putting significant strain on your mind. It was pulling your head apart."

Steve stomach clenches a little, "And?"

"I...threw her out," Loki explains, hands fluttering as if flustered, "there wasn't much fight, but I'm still seeing if she'll try again."

Suddenly everything seems to make a click in his head, and he sits up fully, grabbing at nothing. "Wait-no, don't," he demands, voice harsher than he meant for it to be, "let her do it."

Silence settles over the group for a long second; as if they're attempting to contemplate a large bout of stupidity, find themselves incapable, and then try again. Loki regains himself first, and his lips part, tongue noiseness for a moment before he speaks, "I really don't think that-"

"No, you don't understand," Steve insists, "Bucky was there-Tony's kid, and Dr. Strange, and-"

Loki grabs his shoulders, "She is tearing apart your brain, Captain. I don't care who you claim to have seen. You woke us with your screaming."

Steve stills, his tongue suddenly heavy. That's...how...he doesn't remember that.

"I...what?" Steve questions helplessly.

"Yeah," Rocket inputs, "howling like you were getting an arm severed or something."

Oh.

Clint's rubbing at his forehead, and the action catches Steve's attention, "I don't understand. She's been dead for five years, and there is no way that she could contact you." Clint says.

"She was there," Steve insists.

Loki frowns, "Dead? As in she was slain in battle?"

"No, she vanished after Thanos snapped," Steve answers, rubbing under his eyes in frustration and confusion. He is so tired.

"Oh, oh-" Loki breathes sharply, and turns to Thor, "she's in the Soul Stone, brother, and you know that means there is the possibility that she could reach out."

Thor's eye widens and he forms a soundless "oh".

"I don't understand," Steve says, looking between the two sibilngs, "hasn't she been in the Soul Stone since the snap?"

"Likely," Loki assures, "but the Soul Stone was destroyed, so I imagine they've been wandering spirits since their bodies and minds were taken. But you brought the Stone back to the present, and they were pulled into the Stone as a result of Romanov opening the door for them again. If she hadn't, they would have been formless, and you snapping your fingers again wouldn't have mattered."

Natasha opening the…

But if the Vanished aren't dead because of Natasha then…

Then…

"Nat's dead," Rocket states firmly, if a little shaken, "she couldn't have opened the door for anyone. She's too busy being dead."

Loki shakes his head, shifting his weight from his right side and folds his arms across his chest. "No, she's in the Soul Stone."

Steve's stomach does a hopeful fluttering that he immediately tries to quell. He can't jump at this. He's tired of getting his hopes up only to have them crushed. Every solution since 2018 has made a disaster or simply not worked. Scott wasn't the first time they tried to fix this, he's just the one they've made the most progress with.

Steve wants Natasha to come back. He wants her to live and be happy, but he can't grasp this with both hands.

"What?" The question fell from his lips, but he hardly recognizes his own voice. It sounds faint, almost sickly.

Loki looks between them before sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose as if amazed by their stupidity. "What I know of the Soul Stone is admittedly limited. Asgard has-had it's resources, but most of what I learned of it came from a place I don't feel inclined to share. A soul for a soul is what I've heard, but what I know is that Agent Romanov gave her soul for the Stone. But this isn't the first time the trade has been done, Captain."

And that-

The Soul Stone has been traded for before...but if that is the case, then the Stone has to go back to whatever hole it crawled out of to make the trade again, otherwise it should have been running around the universe like the other five. Natasha and Gamora's lives were given for the Stone, but they couldn't have done that unless the Stone was returned.

"What are you saying?" Clint's voice is barely above a breath.

Loki's gaze flicks to the archer for a moment before returning to him, "I'm saying that you have to bargain for her soul again. She was traded for the Stone, you have to trade the Stone for her."

Clint traded my soul, and you need to trade to get it back.

Rocket looks as if he's been slapped, and murmurs a word under his breath Steve thinks is "Gamora". Clint presses the back of his hand against his mouth. Thor's breath catches. They can still save Natasha. They can still bring her back. She's not dead. Not really. They can still fix this.

"What do we have to do?" Steve questions.

Loki shakes his head and shrugs a little, "I'm uncertain. I've never traded for it before, and the only person I suspect has is on Alfheim. Rotting, I should add, he's been dead for over two centuries." Loki rubs at his forehead as if trying to keep back a headache, "Thirst for knowledge satisfied? You've made a mess of time and broken the laws of Yggdrasil, but who am I to judge?"

Steve's stance shifts a little, "Do you know anything else about the Stone?"

"No," Loki promises, "but even if I did, why would I tell you?"

"Because you're supposed to be helping us, Psychopath," Clint hisses, "and this information would have been helpful yesterday."

Loki looks up at him, there is no anger in his eyes, only a wary defeat, "And if I had, then what? It serves no greater purpose now then it would have then."

Clint's fist clenches, but Thor shifts pointedly. As a warning.

"Hawk," Loki's voice is patient, but drained, "it didn't occur to me that you wouldn't know because I was a little busy being shot. I heard you talking about returning her, and I assumed that's what you meant."

"We were just going to snap her back into existence," Steve admits, and Loki's lips split into a surprised, but strangely delighted laughter.

"And you think that simply because you had the six singulaturies, that if you wanted it enough, she'd return?" Loki asks rhetorically, shaking his head, "Morons. You have to trade for the retrieval of the soul, there is no other way to return her."

"And what the heck are we supposed to trade!?" Clint demands sharply.

"I don't know!" Loki hisses, "I don't know everything about the Soul Stone. Asgard hasn't cared, and my source was...it wasn't exactly a deeply enlightening discussion. Or really a discussion." Loki adds the last part after a hesitation, and shakes his head as if trying to jar something out of it. He looks dizzy, and Steve is suddenly aware of just how pale he is. He looks white among the dark background.

"Great!" Clint throws his hands up, "So we can save her, but there's no way to save her."

"This may come as a surprise to you, Agent Barton, but necromancy has never been much of a hobby of mine," Loki snips, "I can't pull the answer out of a hat."

Clint turns, jerking a hand out, "Stop trying to be funny! The only reason she's dead is because of Asgard-it ruined everything. If you had never stepped foot here and stopped treating Earth like your rubbish bin, then Nat would still be alive, and Laura and my kids and-and-and you killed everyone and you're not even sorry-"

"Clint, please," Thor's voice is small.

Nebula's gun digs deeper into his wet hair and faintly he hears the clipping noise as plastic lands on the ground. A water bottle. She dumped a water bottle over his head. The gun hurts. His hands keep shaking.

He's going to fall on his nose.

He licks his dry, split lips and quietly longs for water. A ragged breath escapes his chest, but he clenches his fists tightly. Thor is right there. He doesn't have to do this again. He's not going to.

"No," Loki whispers, and the gun digs deeper into his skull. He flinches at the sensation, and finally notices that the entire room is darker than it should be. The only light comes from the large window on in front of him, but that's dimming. There isn't even the persistent sound of the Midgardian machines.

There is no power.

A deep coil of dread tightens around him like a noose.

"You think this some sort of game?" Nebula hisses, "Get. Up."

Loki digs his nails into his palm and he forces his shaking nerves to settle. "No," he repeats, "I thought you were stuffed into a room somewhere. You're hardly someone parading enough importance to direct me anymore."

Nebula's eyes flash, and she slams the butt of her gun against his head. Loki flinches, gasping sharply as he lifts a hand up to reach for the area, but Nebula's cybernetic hand grabs his wrist before he can reach it. With heavy force, she all but drags him up to his feet. Loki sways, hardly able to latch at a center of gravity helpful enough.

His vision is blurring.

Desperately, he reaches for his sedir only to find it shy away from him sharply and angrily. The pain of that is nearly staggering, and he coughs sharply, spitting blood onto the floor. Miss Foster has no idea how lucky she is that she doesn't carry a drop of sorcery on her. She would have been dead before they made it Svatherheim if she had.

He had it in him for what? An hour and look what it did to him.

Nebula's gun presses in between his shoulder blades, drawing him back to the present, "You know I'm not afraid to do it, Laufeyson," she hisses, and Loki hates himself for the visible tremble that passes across his spine.

"What do you want?" Loki hisses, "If you meant to kill me, you would have done it when you knocked me out."

It felt like getting struck head-on by a bolt of lightning.

Nebula snorts, but her laughter is dead. "I'm not going to be the person who carries out your death, you've been far too much of an inconvenience to me. Besides, my father's been inventive in his suggestions, and I'd rather like to see them come into play," she snears. Loki squeezes his eyes shut, breathing out sharply.

My father would like to speak with you, Little King.

"What do you want?" Loki counters, attempting to squirm from her grip as she tugs him forward. Their feet pass by Thor, and Loki struggles desperately to see if he's breathing, but they move forward to quickly.

Please. Please. Please.

A glance at the Captain's chest reveals the thin rattle of breath, and he can hear faint moans from his hawk, and the wheezes from the raccoon. Why can't he hear Thor's?

Please. Please. Please.

Desperation claws through him and he twists, bringing his foot up to ram into her hip. Her grip is torn from him and Loki gyrates, running towards Thor and lands next to him on his knees. He skids somewhat, twitching limbs unable to keep their balance as well as he'd appreciate.

Please. Please. Please.

Loki lifts his fingers beneath Thor's nose and his eyes squeeze shut a little noise of relief escape him as he feels the faint whisper of air on his fingers. His fingers stray to feel for a pulse, but a hand grabs at his shoulder and pulls him away.

Loki lashes out wildly with his fist, but Nebula grabs his wrist, eyes heated.

She pulls him back and pressure compresses in his chest, "No-wait! Let me-"

Nebula doesn't care. She pulls him back and presses her gun against his head; Loki can't do much more than stagger after her. His nerves still feel jumbled and not like his own. Loki wipes his wet hair away from his face, scowling at the back of Nebula's head. "What do you want from me?"

Nebula pulls him off of the platform and Loki's stomach sinks with a wailing despair as he sees Stark and Bruce laying face down. Bruce's head is surrounded by a pool of blood and Stark's eyes are closed. He's not close enough to determine if they're breathing or alive.

"You're expendable." Nebula says at last, evenly, and Loki's eyebrows furrow. "My father wants the honor of killing them himself," she jerks her head in the Avenger's direction, "but you can hold Infinity Stones with your bare hands. I can't."

"What…?" Loki's head shakes a little as Nebula drags him out of the garage. The entire building seems to echo and radiate its disapproval with their presence.

"And my father will be pleased to have his dog back," she adds as an almost after thought before tearing open a door and shoving him inside. The sensation of the Infinity Stones rolling power smacks into him face-first, and Loki nearly draws back as his senses heighten the faint whispers begin to murmur at him.

Oh, Norns.

No.

Not again.

The Stones are all sitting inside of one of the Iron Man gloves. Space, Mind, Time, Soul, Reality, and Power-they're all there. Loki looks back at Nebula for a second eyebrows furrowing. "You don't need me to-"

Nebula smiles, and Loki's voice dies in his throat.

"I don't," she agrees, "but you don't know what Thanos did to my sister when you slipped your noose with having a door to the Chitauri's portal. It didn't occur to him until later that you spent the entire invasion trying to fail, but Gamora wasn't given food for three weeks because she was the one who told Ebony when to stop. You nearly killed her, Laufeyson."

No. Thanos did.

Loki's eyes narrow, "This is vendetta."

"Absolutely." She agrees, jaw gritting, "My father would have caught up with you eventually. I know that you know this. Why wane out the inevitable? He's demanded an audience with you."

The Tesseract or your brother's head, I assume you have a preference?

My father's been meaning to speak with you, Little King.

Loki stares at her, clawing for his sedir in an attempt to formulate some sort of plan, but nothing comes to mind. His sedir still shies away from him angrily. "He's...he's…" Loki curses how pathetic his voice is. "You...you plan to...what exactly?"

Nebula grabs the glove and points her gun at him, "This isn't about me," she seethes, "this is for Gamora. She'll see. She'll see that I'm worthy of her friendship by avenging her. By protecting her. And besides that-my father will be pleased to have you back. I told him you were here and how the Avengers never would have suspected anything if you hadn't been here. I hate you."

"Mutual." Loki promises, gnawing on his gums sharply. Come on, think of something, you idiot. He can't. Everything is a scattered mess and, for the love of Yggdrasil, will his hands please stop shaking!?

What? Silvertongue turn to lead?

Shut up.

Nebula shoves the gun in between his shoulder blades and shoves him forward, "Move. My father might be willing to show you mercy by letting you join the Order again, but I won't. You make one move to run and I shoot you. I just want you dead."

Forbannesler.

Thor.

Thor is still-Bruce was laying in his own blood. He can't do anything to help them if he's dead. He needs to play with this because he has no other options. He can't touch his sedir because of that Norn's cursed Aether, he has no weapons on his person, and whatever jolt of electricity Nebula shot him with before has messed his nerves up so awfully he doesn't know if he'll ever stop grinding when he moves.

All he has is his silvertongue.

He takes a step forward, quietly pleading with anyone listening to leave the Avengers and his brother alive long enough for him to return and help. He can fix this. Maybe. Hopefully. Please.

"Nebula," Loki starts softly, breathing out slowly as he tries to figure out how to structure this in his head properly. "You know that this isn't right. You know what the-Thanos plans to do with the Stones and do you really want to be part of that?"

"It's my father's wish," Nebula says stiffly, "nothing else matters."

Loki digs his teeth into his gums. Think. Think. Think.

"And, yet, Gamora has her hesitations with it. She told me, you know, and I know that you're not comfortable with this." He starts, keeping his words flat.

"I'd rather be alive when it's over," Nebula states and Loki realizes that they're moving towards an exit. He hasn't had enough time in this building to map out the exits, but Nebula, apparently, has. How long was she waiting for them?

The blood around Bruce suggests it hasn't been more than an hour.

Norns.

"Can you guarantee that?" Loki counters, "Your father does not care for you, Nebula. He won't attempt to save you among those who die. You would be better off simply trying to stop him."

"And end up like you?" Nebula returns, voice harsh, "You've already tightened your noose, Little King. He won't give you mercy."

My father's been meaning to-Shut up.

"He won't give you mercy."

Nebula grabs at his shoulder sharply, eyes heated, "He will. Once he sees that I'm worthy of it. Stop trying to get into my head, it won't work."

Her hands have tightened in their agitation, however, and Loki can see that she's unsettled.

"No," Loki agrees without conviction. "But it is your choice what happens. Gamora would want that. Trust me, as a leading guide in dysfunctional family relationships-"

Nebula slaps him with the butt of her weapon.

Loki's teeth snap onto his tongue, deeply, and he blinks several times with surprise and pain. His vision blurs somewhat, and Loki wipes blood from the edge of his mouth. Nebula shoves him forward harshly.

"Shut up." She seethes, "You don't know me."

Loki smiles thinly, sweeping his gaze across her pointedly, "I really don't think there's that much complexity, is there?"

Nebula lets out an audible noise of frustration, "Shut up. Shut up! I know what you are, murderer, and you are hardly someone to be giving speeches about redemption. My father won't let me change, and he won't let you-stop trying to pretend this is anything different. Talk again and I'll rip out your tongue."

Loki doesn't doubt it, and snaps his teeth together so quickly is clicks.

Nebula seems vaguely amused beneath the visible show of despair she's hiding beneath.

The truth of her words stings both of them.

Nebula moves forward and lifts her charred robotic hand against the door's keypad and Loki watches as she easily dismantles the override. With that completed, she shoves her gun against his head and pushes him forward again roughly.

The night air is crisp, but not quite cold. It smells awfully, though. Exactly how he recalls New York in 2012. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and flicks his gaze across the space, looking for an escape route. He can't find one.

Not one where he can reach Thor first.

And he's not leaving his older brother behind again.

Nebula shoves him through the surrounding field of the Avengers Compound, and Loki's gaze flicks up as he sees a thick shadow, not caused by the clouds, swarming over everything. His breath hitches in his chest in recognition.

The Sanctuary.

Nebula shoves him through the field, underneath the shadow of the Sanctuary, and the closer towards figure standing in the distance. Thanos. He skips over his step at the sight.

He's going to be ill.

Your faith is misplaced, Asgardian.

Nebula shoves him forward, "Move," she demands. Loki does so, and can't help as his limbs stiffen. They wont move right, and his hands keep shaking or giving out suddenly from the stupid jitter from the blast.

He didn't find a heartbeat.

Bruce was-

Stark-

Thor. Thor is still in the building. As is everyone else, including the Hawk.

Thor might be-

The M-Thanos turns when they get close enough, and Loki's lungs tighten with terror. This is different than the Statesmen somehow. Maybe it's the fact that he-mostly-came to terms with his fate when the Black Order rounded on him with their weapons. He knew he was to die, then, but this Thor had arrived and suddenly there was hope.

He was such a fool to cling to that.

Whether this timeline or another, he isn't meant for much more than the slaughterhouse.

"Father," Nebula greets, and the Titan's eyes flick to her for a second; something in his gaze Loki can't quite place. Perhaps pride...maybe trepidation. "I come baring gifts," she kneels before him, but Loki refuses to sink his knees. He thinks if he tries he'll only collapse. "The Infinity Gauntlet, and the Jotun traitor."

The Ma-Thanos's gaze lifts from his daughter to him, and Loki feels a tremble pass through him. He clenches his shaking fists by his side. He's quiet for a long moment. "I still haven't killed you yet?" The Master questions, and there's something frustrated in the question.

Maybe, given different circumstances, Loki would have laughed at that.

Loki parts his lips with effort, but his voice is small, "No, my lord,"

"Hmm, pity," the Master murmurs, then, louder he says: "you know how failure is treated, Little King, it really was a matter of time before you met your proper judgement; but I am sorry." He raises his double bladed sword, and arches his hand to swing it. Loki squeezes his eyes shut, hands graphing to reach his sedir, but it flees from him, leaving only the now familiar burn in its wake.

The metal swings through the air, and Loki prepares for the sting as it hits him, but the noise halts at Nebula's voice: "Wait!"

Loki peels his eyes open, a sharp breath escaping him in disbelief.

What on the Nine is she doing? She ranted and raved about wanting him dead, and now that the deed is to be done she is suddenly wary?

The Master lifts his gaze to her, "You have done well my daughter, would you not trust my judgement?" The threat is light, but there. Nebula hasn't raised from her knees, the Master hasn't told her that she can, but her gaze keeps flicking between him and her father.

"No, never," she swears, "but think. He was a means to an end with the Tesseract, but there is much more he could do for us, Father. You know the power that hides beneath his skin."

The Master pauses, and then his piercing stare lifts from Nebula to him. Loki firmly stuffs down the urge to vomit. What is she doing? Nebula mentioned more creative ways to kill him...and maybe this is what...what it was. Controlling his sedir was something they couldn't achieve before his invasion, and it was a small relief. Had his full power been unleashed, Thor's mortals would have been dead before he arrived.

Oh, Norns, Thor.

The Master cannot get the Infinity Stones. He can't; Thor could have died for their safe retrieval. For the retrieval of the trillions of souls that now rest on the Master's head. The Midgardians have just died in an effort to protect this last effort to save them.

Loki is not a hero, that much has been reassured to him enough since birth, but he isn't going to let them die in vain. He once promised Thor to trust his rage, and maybe that's all he has now, because the rest of him is only terrified. He's not brave. Not for this.

"That may be," the Master agrees after some consideration; his weapon draws a little closer to Loki's neck, and his body tenses further. "Maybe your service has not yet met its end. I will let you live, Little King, if you show your willingness to submit. Kiss my boot."

Loki's head flicks up to the Master's, and a knot of heated humiliation slides through his fingers.

This is…

No.

No.

The Master's face doesn't suggest that this is some sort of joke, and a distant, exhausted part of him, recognizes it as the truth. To expect something different...he's learned better by now. The tip of the blade presses against his neck and slowly, shakily, Loki lowers to his hands and knees.

His throat is dry.

His body jolts with some surprise when Nebula slowly lowers the Infinity Gauntlet to the ground and their eyes briefly meet. Her face is collected, but he can see the faint tremble in her living hand. She gives him a brief nod and Loki's stomach clenches with anticipation.

Her meaning is obvious.

Loki's hands tighten around the dirt, and he stares at his hands for a long second.

Thor is dying.

He has no proof, but he knows. He can feel it with every fiber of his being, and his chest constricts painfully at the thought. He reassured Thor that the sun would shine on them again, but Loki doesn't want the light if Thor isn't there to bask in it with him.

He resists the urge to squeeze his eyes shut before he gives a little nod of agreement.

She flicks her gaze away from him, hand straying slowly to her sword.

He forces his mind to settle, breathes out very slowly and then tilts his head down as if to submit to the Master's request. When he's close enough to the ground, Loki drops completely, rolling swiftly towards Nebula and grabs the Infinity Gauntlet, diving out of the way as the Master's blade slams into the ground beside him.

The Stones thrum with power as they touch his skin, and the sensation rises bile in his throat. He jumps to his feet as Nebula rises to hers with a cry and snaps her swords out, diving at her father with a loud yell.

Loki doesn't look back, but hears the smack as she collides with something. Instead, he adjusts his hold on the Infinity Gauntlet, turns towards the rubble of the Avengers Compound, and beings to run.

But that's when the missiles hit.

Thanos's hand wraps around his throat and drags him off his feet. Loki squirms against the grip, grabbing at the forearm desperately as he tries anything and everything to get out. He can't focus enough to teleport and his sedir still feels so raw from the Aether and-

He is dying.

He is actually dying.

This is worse than Svaltheriheim. That wasn't expected, it was sharp and brutal, but over in a little less than twenty seconds. This must be going backwards through time. He can feel his throat closing and his lungs burning for air as Nebula and Gamora shout and yell at their father. Loki can't hardly see through tears of pain.

This...this is it.

Thanos is smirking at him, but there's a slight sadness in his eyes that makes him sick.

Loki hears Thor's voice murkily, exclaiming something in panic. Loki squeezes his eyes shut and quietly pleads with his brother not to do anything stupid when he's dead. Or before he's dead. It's coming, it's really coming, and he's not-

He was supposed to be better before this happened.

He's not ready.

Not after everything.

He's-

Blurry. Fading. His lungs have tightened and are going to burst inside his chest, making a mess. It will hurt, but his throat is raw and it draws the attention away from his lungs without much trouble. His senses are dulling and, his grip slips away from Thanos's hand as his muscles weaken before giving out completely.

This is-

The grip loosens abruptly, and Loki slips down to his knees, gasping and hacking up air. His muscles are akin to liquid, and he wants to weep. No, he is weeping. Gasping sobs of pain and relief that he can't stop even if he wanted to.

It hurts.

Oh, Norns, how raw everything is.

His hands come to claw at his throat in an attempt to ease the pain, but Thanos's large fingers grip at his hair, dragging him to his knees. Loki sways sluggishly, but can't find the strength to try to struggle. His vision is still blurring, but he forces his gaze up to see what it is that stopped Thanos from killing him properly.

(He was almost strangled to death. That would have been it. No reserections, no escape plans. (He's never had one before, anyway, only survived from sheer dumb luck)).

He was almost-

He has to blink several times before he can make out what it is that Thanos is staring at. Nebula and Gamora are standing on either side of Thor, weapons lifted towards their father and expressions hardened. Thor...Thor is-What?

Loki's jaw nearly falls.

Oh, you moron.

Thor is holding the Infinity Gauntlet with one hand, blood leaking down his nose and from the cuts on his face, but Loki can still distantly make out the ozone in the air. Thor's one eye is glowing and the room is humming with electricity. He blinks again, trying to see through the tears, but it isn't helping because he's still gasping sobs up through his throat.

Weeping like a child.

It's impossible to determine where Thor is looking at with the glowing eye, but Loki can feel his stare. His hands are shaking, Loki realizes. Thanos is talking, but what he's saying exactly Loki can't tell, only picking up the rare word.

Thanos rattles him from his scalp, and Loki can't collapse onto his hands and knees like he'd like to. He's trapped, and he knows that the tears aren't just relief, but based on the fact that something has snapped inside of him, and there isn't enough time for him to put it back together again.

His hearing snaps back into full focus, and Loki can instantly make out the heavy breathing of everyone in the room, the dripping pipes, the sounds of distant battle, and his own gasping sobs.

"-must have a death wish," Thanos says softly, gently, as if reprimanding a child, "I've made my bargain, Asgardian...what's your's?"

Thor's hand tightens around the Gauntlet, and Loki sees Gamora's gaze briefly flick towards his face. It's then that he realizes he's not the only one who's crying.

"I don't have one," Thor hisses out, his voice is low, and Thanos makes a little humming noise. He tugs at his scalp further, and Loki jerks a little as the pain intensifies, biting sharply at his tongue to withhold the cry of pain. He's already weeping like a child, he's not going do anything else that will force Thor into...into whatever it is that Thanos is trying to-

Oh.

Oh.

Thanos isn't a merciful being; he wouldn't spare Loki from the goodness of his dead heart. It was because he realized that Loki is still useful. He wants Thor to trade the Gauntlet for his life, and...and Loki knows that Thor is stupid enough to do it. He's sentimental, and Thanos knows that from tearing through Loki's mind and rebuilding it from scratch and-

No.

No.

Thanos will take the Gauntlet simply to stop them, and then he'll kill Thor. And Loki won't let that happen. Not when he can stop it. It's...it's the end. The sun is behind the clouds, and Thanos has taken a gun to it in the first place.

Loki chokes, tasting blood, "Thor," his voice is hoarse, and he can feel his older brother's eye flick towards him. Thanos's are resting on him as well, but his daughter's haven't lowered their weapons, or dared to shift. Both are radiating something Loki can't quite place. Loki lifts his gaze up, and tries to keep the grimace off his lips as he gives Thor a weak smile. It doesn't feel authentic, but he tried.

"Brother, it's okay," Loki whispers, resisting the urge to rub at his neck again, "keep the Stones and unbalance everything, I'll be okay."

Thor's hard expression breaks, and it ripples with open agony, "No, no, I can't, Loki-Loki-you can't ask this of me. N-n-not again!"

Thanos takes a step forward, dragging Loki with him, and Thor's defenses raise, but there is no Mjolnir, no Stormbreaker. There is just Thor. "I spent a great deal of time with your brother," Thanos says, and Loki resists the urge to vomit, everything feels so wrong, "I know how his mind works. He's lying to you, Asgardian, give me the Gauntlet and you can walk away from this. You survived the first balance, you are meant to be here."

Loki licks his split lip, "It's okay," he repeats, trying to keep the tremble from his voice, "we'll be okay, brother,"

Thor shakes his head, and gasps sharply before backing up a step, "No, no. I can't, I'm sorry, Loki," He flexes his left hand and Loki's eyes widen, his hands lifting weakly towards his sibling.

"Thor, no-"

Oh, idiot, don't-

Thor shoves the Infinity Gauntlet onto his left hand, and Loki's breath catches in his aching chest as Thor visibly ripples with the waves of power, his veins briefly lighting up with the glow of the Stones before he gasps and nearly topples forward.

Nebula supports his weight, as Gamora levels her sword at Thanos's neck when he makes a move to advance. Thor looks dizzy and Loki knows that he's mouthing something with horror-how could Thor be so stupid, doesn't he know what the Stones can do to-but Thor grins a little crookedly at Thanos and raises a trembling hand, stumbling out "You should have gone for the head," before he snaps.