Thor is taken upstairs, and he would resist, but it's not worth it. The house is nice, very nice, in fact, but he's not interested. It's a change from the basement, yes, but he can hardly get excited about it.

He's handled roughly, which is surprising considering the care he's been given for the past three weeks. His hands have been bound again, most likely so he won't try to do a runner whilst he's offered the 'privilege' of visiting the person behind all of this.

"She's been very kind to you, so I suggest you're polite," he's told as he's marched down a corridor with one wall painted a deep burgundy and the other a pale, barely-off-white pink with modern sculptures set into alcoves in the walls. Thor has no intention of being polite to whoever 'she' is, regardless of how kind she's been to him. A small part of him can't help but be disappointed that despite his being kidnapped he still hasn't got out of physics homework.

A pair of double doors swing open and he's taken into what must be the main reception room, but he barely spares a moment to look around because his attention has been grabbed by the woman sitting by the fireplace in a richly coloured teal dress, her blonde curls cascading over her shoulders. Thor's intake of breath is sharp and unexpected.

Because this woman is his mother.

.

Volstagg has to go home because his parents are adamant that he doesn't stop revising, but Sif is allowed to stay the night, and she knows that if she doesn't, Odin and Loki will be in pieces by the morning. With gentle, soothing words she guides them up the stairs, helping Loki get undressed because he is so broken he can barely think to move at her request. She tucks him into bed and then checks on Odin, trying to talk enough sense into him that he will keep his promise and not decline again because things have suddenly got so much worse. He is reluctant, but agrees.

"For Loki's sake, I'll do it."

"That's all I ask; thank you, Odin." Sif sits on the side of his bed and he takes her hand, his eyes wild and frightened.

"You're a good girl, Sif. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for us." He squeezes her hand affectionately, and manages a half smile, barely visible in the dim orange light from the outside street lamp.

"It's all right, Odin. I know...I know Thor would have done the same for me." Odin nods, and closes his eyes. There's a blanket in Thor's bed waiting for her, but when Sif gets there to go to bed herself she finds it already occupied by Loki. So instead she moves into Loki's room and tries to get to sleep, but it's no use. The sound of Loki's tears echo around the thin walls of the house and no-one can ignore them for long enough to lose themselves.

.

Odin is the first one up, and straight away he goes to his son's room, holding a fitful Loki in his arms and offering all the comfort and love he has to give. At ten o'clock Loki wakes up; Sif has already gone to school. He clings to his father, but says nothing.

"Loki, son, how about we go to the park today, get some fresh air?" Odin asks gently, smoothing a piece of hair behind Loki's ear where it's been moved out of place in the night. He's answered with a shake of the head. "All right, how about the garden then?"

Loki swallows and squeezes his eyes tight shut. Not the garden, not outside. Thor loved outside. Thor's dead. Thor's dead. It's like a bell tolling inside his mind, its clanging never ceasing for longer than a moment. Thor's gone.

He can't articulate, even in his head, the level of hurt he feels at Thor's leaving him. It's the ultimate betrayal. They'd promised one another they were in this together. How can he leave me like this? How can he give up, like this? Loki is angry, and starts to beat his fists against his father's chest, pounding as hard as he can to drown out the resonating words from his mind: Thor's gone.

"Loki, let's go get some breakfast, OK? Just a bite to eat." Odin helps his son stand up, taking his elbow and leading him downstairs to the kitchen where he makes some toast and scrambled egg, Loki's favourite. He eats his own food but can't taste it, and watches Loki do the same. He wonders how long the numbness will last before they will be able to feel anything other than grief again.

.

Odin does persuade Loki to go to the park, and they spend a long time walking round and round in circles through the woodier sections. Odin holds a one-sided conversation, although Loki does nod occasionally in response to some of the things, which tells his father his words are not wasted. Sif comes back with Fandral this time, who has been fully updated on the situation, and they pile into the lair to watch the news together in case anything else has come up. As soon as the opening theme for the regional news comes up however, Loki scrambles up from the sunken sofa and hurries out the room. Sif makes to follow him, but Odin stops her.

"Give him his space. If he can't bear to watch we won't make him."

There is nothing new though, only that they are still investigating and that DNA tests have properly started now a post mortem is complete. The three of them can't hide their disappointment from one another.

At seven o'clock Loki comes back in to ask for updates, and reluctantly Fandral tells him what little they learnt that evening. Loki too is disappointed, but in a different way. He doesn't care what the results are. It's the uncertainty itself that hurts him, not the fear the body is actually Thor's. He's beyond distinguishing now.

.

Come Friday, there has been nothing dramatically new, and they are beginning to lose their faith in the police. Odin, Loki and Sif are sitting together in the lair, their eyes glued hazily to the screen as the familiar graphics swirl around and faint music fills the room, the volume turned down low so they can at least pretend to feel some distance and detachment from the news screen that rules their lives if the news is bad.

The first ten minutes is nothing, just short stories about things that everyone claims to care about but no-one can change, like politics and scandals and sport. Loki keeps his face buried against Odin's side, not wanting to see the screen, but his ears are turned in the direction of the TV and he's listening just as intently as the others.

The tension in the room as the three of them wait for their story is almost tangible, and Loki lifts up a hand to touch something invisible hanging in the air, something only he can sense. His fingers curl around it and pull it close - the feeling of electricity in the air that comes with excitement or fear, a feeling he used to love.

And then they hear Thor's name, and their daydreaming ceases, attention, if not faces, turned towards the screen to hear the latest news.

"Forensic investigations concerning the discovery of a body on the outskirts of Southampton which police believed to be connected to the case of the missing teenager, Thor Odinson, have confirmed that the body does not belong to him. It in fact belongs to someone older, a twenty-year-old man who disappeared a few days after Thor's case was reported to the police. It is believed that this man committed suicide..."

Sif gives an overwhelming sigh of relief, leaning forward and cupping her face in her hands as she rocks back and forth on the sofa. She looks over at Odin, her eyes starry with happiness, and gives him a genuine smile.

"Thank goodness. That means he could still be alive."

Odin nods, wordless, tears spilling down his cheeks too, and he smiles back. He's half tempted to dig out a bottle of champagne to celebrate, but then he realises this isn't exactly the thing you celebrate with champagne, and also that there's been no alcohol in the house since he made his promise to give up drinking.

It's only as he thinks back to the moment he made that promise that he realises Loki hasn't lifted his head from where it's been burrowed against his father's ribcage for the duration of the broadcast. He gently shifts position so he can lift up Loki's chin, only to feel a strong resistance to his efforts as his son moves to hide his face again.

"Loki?" Odin asks, his happiness dissipating immediately.

Loki mumbles something, but it's more of an amalgamation of sounds than anything else, and pulls the side of Odin's jumper over his face, biting his lips, because somehow knowing that the body doesn't belong to his brother is even worse. It means they're back to square one, and all the progress that's been made so far has just become pointless. He sucks in a breath, taking with it the familiar scent of his father, only this time it's also unfamiliar, because the tang of alcohol he's learnt to associate with Odin is gone. It's amazing what a few weeks and a couple of cycles through the washing machine can do.

Sif throws Odin a guilty look, even though she's not sure what for, and runs a hand through her hair.

"Do you want me to stay tonight? My parents should be OK with it..." She puts the offer out there, even though she doesn't want to stay, because it's the right thing to do. Internally, she's angry at Loki for ruining the mood. Any normal person would be delighted to discover his brother isn't dead. She can't understand his upset, and she doesn't want to stay with him for any longer than she has to, because she wants to be happy knowing Thor could still be alive.

Odin can understand it though, and the rational side of him that Frigga fell in love with all those years ago is beginning to shine through now that his mind isn't clouded by drink. He can also see that Sif doesn't really want to stay. He shakes his head, indicating that he can take care of this and that she should get some rest. Loki is his son, after all.

Once she's gone home, Odin goes to the kitchen and makes a cup of tea for each of them. Loki nurses it, staring into the pale brown liquid with an empty expression, trying to drown his thoughts in that cup.

"I know it's hard," Odin begins, then curses himself for putting it like that. He doesn't need to say it, and if anything it will only upset Loki more, because his conscientious young son will be fully aware that it's just as hard for Odin as it is for him, and hearing his father play the hero is too painful to endure.

"I can see why you're upset, Loki," he tries again, going for the empathetic approach. "To be dragged back to the start, having to begin it all again. In a way it might have been easier if it had been him. It would have least been an end to this madness." He grips Loki's hand tight, squeezing it and feeling a slight pressure in return - understanding. Odin hopes one day Loki will speak again, and so at each conversation he holds he tries to phrase things in such a way that the response can't simply be yes or no, but still Loki manages to get his meanings across with only a nod or a shake of the head. "But surely it's better to know he could still be alive. Surely that's better than believing he's dead."

Loki thinks on his father's words. At least this time it means the chiming in his mind is no longer dead. But that never really bothered him as much as the gone. Because there it is again, ringing round and round in his head until it feels like it will crack, like it will hit resonant frequency and his skull will shatter. Thor's gone, Thor's gone, Thor's gone...