XIII

Loki inhaled a deep breath of the cool night (or rather, space) air in an attempt to steel his nerves. He had convinced himself that he no longer had anything to fear from his former master. Or, perhaps more accurately, his former oppressor. It had been several years since Thanos had attempted to contact him. In that time, Loki had dared to hope that maybe, just maybe… he had been forgotten… That his failure in New York had been pushed aside by the crimes of others… That he and Sherlock were finally safe…

He was so very, very wrong…

It had begun with little hints. Subtle signs that only Loki could possibly understand. Things he had attempted to write off as his mind playing cruel tricks on him. He would be playfully arguing with Sherlock when midsentence his beloved's voice would morph into the guttural language of the Chitauri, threatening both his and their puppet's lives. A few weeks later, he was washing his face when the mirror reflected not his own face but… the monster he once was. His eyes would occasionally flicker between his natural emerald green to the sickly cosmic blue of those darker days.

But the Mad Titan only grew bolder. Loki began to spot various members of Thanos's ranks peeking out from the dark cracks and crevices of London's streets, ranging from the Chitauri he once commanded to stranger and more sinister creatures he did not recognize. None attempted to attack him or Sherlock, but rather would whisper insidious threats to him, promises of agony both for him and his mortal beloved. Thankfully, Sherlock never seemed to hear or see these threats. Perhaps he wasn't as interested in Sherlock as he would have Loki believe.

Even if the god was lucky enough for that to be so, it proved difficult to his hide the danger from his mortal. Old night terrors began to resurface, keeping them both up at night despite Loki's best efforts. He tried very hard to convince Sherlock that they were merely night terrors that they would fade with time. Of course, that was not the case. If anything, they old became worse and worse. Every lash of the whip or every blow of the fist he was dealt in his nightmare would reopen the physical scars left on his skin. Such wounds could only be hidden so much. But of course if he wanted to maintain at least Sherlock's safety, the detective could not know why his nightmares had begun to attack his physical body.

The final straw came in the form of an attack on Sherlock. A few days ago, the detective had returned sporting a black eye and various scrapes and cuts. Nothing serious but enough for Loki to worry over his welfare. Upon questioning and between gasps for air, the man revealed he was unable to focus on his assailant's face. She had attacked quickly and disappeared in a flash of blue and silver. The only detail he had managed to grasp (besides that his attacker was female) was that between blows, he noticed she seemed to wear various cybernetic enhancements. When asked if he knew anyone of this description, the god put his Silvertongue to work even as his blood ran cold. If Thanos was to the point of sending one of his "daughters" to attack Loki's loved one, there was no hope of being forgotten anymore. It would be better, at least for Sherlock, to go ahead and face the Mad Titan head on.

Which brought Loki back to his present location, standing on the outskirts of Thanos's hideout. The god found himself quite grateful the S.H.I.E.L.D. tracking bracelet no longer worked, otherwise this excursion would not be possible and he would be putting the earth and, most importantly, Sherlock in grave danger. Luckily, as far as he was aware, all of the Mad Titan's attempts to acquire the fabled Infinity Stones had failed miserably. Loki himself was responsible for blocking his access to at least two of the gems. Perhaps then, there was a chance he could and would come out of this meeting alive.

"Enter." Loki forced down the wave of panic that rose in the pit of his stomach at the deep voice, beckoning him to his doom. The god obeyed, trying to ignore the strange cries that echoed through the air. Some were animalistic in nature while others…Well, the others Loki would much not focus too hard on. Especially when Nebula seemed to be cleaning blood off one of her weapons. The daughter of Thanos smiled at the stoic god from her rocky perch below her father's throne.

"Hello again, Asgardian," she greeted sweetly, a tone of false friendship edging through her metallic voice. "How is your little toy? He seemed rather… Weak."

"Hunting you. And he's much stronger than you think," Loki answered coldly. The god knew an intimidation tactic when he saw one and had no intention of succumbing to it. Nebula was indeed a threatening warrior but certainly she was not nearly as much so as her adoptive father. Plus her buttons were far too fun and easy for him to resist pushing. "And how is your sister? Gamora, isn't it?" Two could play at that game. The question earned him a pitch black glare. Loki was fairly certain that the cybernetically enhanced warrior was prepared to remove his head had Thanos not intervened.

"Enough!" Both god and daughter quickly backed down. Loki turned his gaze to the titan hovering above him. He found his stoicism harder and harder to maintain as he met the familiar blue – eyed stare. "You have some nerve, boy." The fallen Asgardian failed to conceal the flinch through his body at the sharp inflection in "boy."

"I am not the only one attacking defenseless mortals in broad daylight." Loki regretted the defiant outburst immediately as a sharp pain flooded his mind, forcing the god to his knees in agony. "Aaargh!"

"QUIET!" Thanos stood from his floating throne, his dark armor glinting menacingly in the usually comfortingly starlight. "Did you really think you could hide from me behind your mortal forever?" The normally cocky god began to scramble away from the titan as he approached him, now visibly trembling beneath his own armor. "Did I not tell you what would happen if you failed me?" Loki cried out as his former commander lifted him effortlessly by his raven hair to face him. "How I would make you long… for something sweet as pain…."

Sherlock paced the length of Baker Street's living room, his mind racing at speeds even he had never experienced before. It had been one year and three long months since he had awakened to find a note on Loki's side of the bed, indicating that he some secret business to attend to. He hadn't been sure when exactly he would return. For the first few months, Sherlock did not worry too much. Since the removal of the S.H.I.E.L.D. tracker, Loki had been making quite a few long, solo trips trying to make amends for some of his crimes. However, he was rarely gone longer than two months and maybe a few days without some form of contact.

But then four months passed with no contact and Sherlock, for the first time in his otherwise stoic life, grew anxious for Loki's safety. He harassed everyone he knew from S.H.I.E.L.D. to Asgard hoping to find his missing lover. While there was still no sign of Loki, the distraught detective did gain aid in his search, with the apparently newly appointed Director Coulson having his team scour the four corners of the globe. Meanwhile, Thor and his friends combed through the remaining eight realms in hopes of finding the mischief god. Even Mycroft offered some of his abundant resources to help the search, despite his well-known hatred for Loki. One would think with so many searching so much of the universe they could at least determine whether or not Loki was alive. But eight months in, they had still found nothing.

Even now, they had no leads as to where Loki might have gone. Most began to fear the very worst. Loki was either dead or had abandoned Sherlock to return to his sinister ways. Sherlock definitely did not want to believe Loki was dead, but he was also fairly certain that if the god had indeed returned to villainy, they would've already know by now. Of course, he had no positive proof either way so their search party dwindled to himself, Thor, the Watsons, and – still surprisingly – Mycroft. It wasn't much of a team but it was still better than no one at all. At least some of them still had hope.

"Sherlock?" The concern in John's voice managed to pull the detective from his reverie. "You're wearing a hole in the floor with your pacing."

"It can be repaired," Sherlock responded, resuming his offending pacing.

"Yes, well, I don't doubt that but it's not going to help you find Loki either."

"Well, none of my other methods aren't helping so I have to try something new, don't I?" Sherlock knew he was being sharper than John deserved, but he needed to think if they were going to find his god. He didn't have time for pointless small talk.

"Sherlock, we are going to find him. Even if we have bring a corpse back-"

"He's not dead," Sherlock interrupted. "Not yet." John didn't try to argue whether or not that was fact. Surprisingly to Sherlock, no one ever attempted to argue how he could possibly know Loki was not dead yet (as he put it). Well, no one except Mycroft, but the elder Holmes brother was an ass anyway. "And I know we will find him." John opened his mouth to argue something else when the apartment shook, a flash of blinding white light crashing outside the windows. Sherlock was instantly heading for the door, praying that Thor had some fresh news of his little brother.

"HOLMES!" Judging by the urgent tone in the god of thunder's voice, he did. But nothing could have prepared Sherlock for the sight he faced upon nearly ripping 221b's door off the hinges. Thor had something far better than news of Loki's whereabouts. He had managed to find Loki himself.

However, the once proud mischief god hung limply from Thor's shoulder, supported only by his brother's arm around his waist and grip on his wrist. Loki's clothes were in tatters, bits of frayed fabric glued to the bloody, gaping wounds that covered his body. Sherlock found himself disturbingly able to count his lover's ribs, indicating that the god had not eaten in the time he had been missing. And yet this was not the worse piece of the image.

As the detective gingerly tilted his long lost lover's head and pushed back the fall of shaggy black hair from his face, he heard John swear from behind him at the newly uncovered sight. Sherlock even felt his own jaw drop in horror.

Loki's lips had been crudely sewn shut…