Next day I woke up-and couldn't find anyone.

My quarters weren't way at the outskirts of the place, but they weren't right in the middle of everything either. Even so, the only workers I saw as I wandered the halls were strangers, agents with distant looks in their eyes and cold resolve in their walk. Banner, Stark, Rogers...they were all gone. Nobody was home.

Which is where we pick up at the present. I collapsed on my bed, sighing gutturally as emotionally-stressed teenagers are wont to do. I was so bored. And since Fury had confiscated my phone and made sure that the room was devoid of computers that my poor brain could feasibly work with, there was no way I could reach my friends to tell them the truth. Or at least talk to them.

I rolled over and buried my face in a pillow with yet another groan. I felt so alone, and for a girl that's always in touch with friends and family and loves them to bits, that's the worst feeling in the universe. I had no idea how long this would last, either. I'm a little bit OCD about time, always keeping track of how long a song is so that I'll know exactly what time it is when it's over, or whatever. But lying there with my face in the fuzz, I lost my sense of time for a horrible moment. I lost my sense of everything. I just moaned to myself in my head, pining for comfort from this nihilistic depression.

Anything but this.

"It's Saturday."

I lifted my head suddenly with a confused grunt. I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep-that would explain my short-lived existential crisis. I looked to my right, saw nothing, looked to the left, and saw yet more nothing. Rolling over on my back and leaning up a little, I saw the owner of the voice leaning in the doorframe, severely backlit in comparison to my darkened room. Loki. I was surprisingly nonplussed, partially because I'd been detached from the concept of reality for a while now.

"That's why nobody's here," he explained. His voice was quiet, and pretty neutral, which was a new thing for me. When I'd first met him, he always had some sort of negative emotion about him. Sarcastic, confused, just plain irritated-pick a card, any card. But this time he had a stone poker face, blank as blank can be. Well, not quite blank...just empty in a weird way. Like how I'd felt moments ago.

"Oh," I said dumbly. I pulled myself into a cross-legged sit, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "That makes sense. Probably why I didn't think of it."

A shadow of a smile crossed his face, but Loki didn't laugh. At all. The expression just made him look even sadder somehow. That didn't help my mood. I liked to make people happy, liked to brighten up their lives if only for a moment. But try as I might, I couldn't extend that joy to him. That's a first.

"What's your deal?" I asked finally. When I thought about it hard enough (which I didn't do about most things), it didn't really make sense for Loki to just show up on my doorstep just as I had an emotional low. It was just like he said: why should he care?

"Same as you, really," he lamented with a small shrug and a long blink. "I'm bored. I don't know what to do with myself. As you can see, I know how to escape-not just my own cell, but the whole helicarrier if need be. But there isn't really a need anymore. According to Asgard, and most of the other realms, I'm dead."

I was about to ask why, then remembered the events of The Dark World. Nevermind. "You're bored? You could do anything. You could write editorials at a cafe, or watch Doctor Who marathons, or live on the beach poking at anemones. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"You think I'd like living here?" he questioned, eyes narrowing in displeasure. I cringed inwardly-I was just trying to help, after all. "Scraping out an existence in this backwater loop you call Midgard? I've seen true purpose. This is pathetic."

"Okay, okay," I murmured, pouting a little to let him know that he'd hurt my feelings. "Take it easy, man. You can like or dislike what you want, but some people have to live with what we have here. And they do just fine."

Loki looked away, spite written on his face in unpleasant lines. But there was also a bitter taste somewhere in there, a taste that had made him who he was...and who he couldn't be. I felt a surge of sympathy for him, which of course was absolutely ridiculous. Undoubtedly he'd tell me to save my sympathy for someone who needs it, and none too sweetly either. While I'd always dreamed of being friends with someone so amazing, it was harder than I'd thought it'd be.

W-wo-woa-woah wait.

Friends?

"I don't get it," murmured Loki finally.

I looked up again, moved by the simplicity of statement. He was staring at the side of the doorjamb, lost in thought. Sorrowful thought, judging by the empty pain in his eyes. I understood him in a flash of insight, understood why he wasn't motivated to do anything. He had all the power in the world, but he was so miserable inside that he didn't have the slightest clue what to do with himself.

"Don't get what?" I asked, rolling my legs over the side of the bed. I had a feeling that I didn't need to ask. His reply was so quiet I almost didn't catch it.

"I don't understand how happy you are," he said softly. His eyes were even worse now, like the whole plot of Les Miserables contained in one heartbreaking look. "You're clever, clever enough surely to realize how futile life is. Even when I shouldn't even have it, it plagues me like a shadow. It won't let go of me, no matter what I try."

A song rang in my head-Bad Apple. And I wish that I could live, feeling nothing but the night. As cheesy as it sounds, Loki needed someone to help him.

Whether he liked it or not.

"I'll make you a deal," I stated, making things up as I go as I am wont to do around here. "You're bored, and I'm lonely. To be frank, so am I, and so are you."

Loki gave me a toxic look that reminded me of a teenager being woken up early on a Saturday.

"Don't give me that look," I retorted, narrowing my eyes in my own dragon glare. "God of Mischief or no, you're human to some degree. And humans and Asgardians alike are pack animals. In order to be psychologically stable, we require periodic if not constant proximity to biological beings with whom we share certain traits."

"You're ridiculous," he snapped, trying to assert himself in a battle he knew he was losing. I shrugged off the insult.

"It's a personality quirk," I dismissed offhandedly. "Anyway, what if we could give each other what we wanted? What if we could...I don't know, hang out, maybe?"

The world froze for a moment. Loki looked at me like I had just told him his mom was still alive.

"You're not serious."

"Most of the time, you'd be right. But yes, I am."

"Who do you think you are? Some sort of ambassador, on a crusade to save the world one soul at a time?"

"It's called friendship. And in case you're wondering, it has something to do with that magic I was telling you about, so deal or no deal?"

A long pause. Really long. My heart hurt, it was pounding so.

"Fine." he stated finally. I felt a Pinkie Pie-esque surge of joy, one that was in fact totally ridiculous. And then I hugged him.

Apparently Loki doesn't do hugs, because first he tensed up, and then he convulsed like I'd bitten him or something. I let go of him because he was seriously freaking out, so he backed away and took a stance akin to that of someone facing a bear. Someone with absolutely no experience with bears. His eyes were wide with equal parts compulsive fear and utter disbelief, plus a dash of indignance, which I thought was a little funny. That, or I was just completely bonkers during that moment. I snickered a little at him. He blinked several times as if to wash away that look on his face, moving his mouth silently like he was still figuring out what to say, and then resolved on a glare and an accusatory index finger.

"No hugs." he commanded slowly, deliberately. I laughed even harder. He sighed angrily at me, trying to glare harder. That worked about as well as trying to conduct electricity through pure, Ion-free water. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Fine, no hugs," I relented. He took a deep breath, straightening up. He reminded me of an actor of sorts, re-psyching himself.

"Oh," I said out loud, recalling my predicament. "Speaking of acting...I probably need help."

Then Loki rolled his eyes at me.