#bsacs

  Thor.

  Thor, saying his name, calling him brother… and oh, that was Odin and…yes, Frigga.  There was too much pain to decipher their words, too much pain to even tell where he was.  Was he lying down?  He tried to sort out where his limbs were, but it was all one mass of agony.  After a while he was aware enough that a few things became clearer.  It was incredibly hard to breathe, the pain forcing him to take shallow breaths.  He also was fairly certain he was lying on something soft.  Perhaps a bed, but he couldn’t be sure.

  “We should never have left him behind!”  That was Thor again.

  “Thor, darling, I know.  If there was some way to undo this; anyway to fix this…You know we would never have allowed this to happen,” Frigga said.  Even through his pain Loki could hear the tears in her voice.

  “Thor,” Odin said quietly, “I want this no more than you, but it would be kinder-”

  “No!  That is not an option,” Thor said hotly, “I won’t… I won’t even consider it!”

  “You are only thinking of yourself, Thor,” Odin said sharply, “This isn’t about what’s best for you.”

  “I can’t!”  The pain in Thor’s voice set off uncomfortable emotions in Loki’s chest, only adding to the physical pain he was in.

  “This is not about what’s best for any of us, you know that.”

  “Isn’t it?” Thor asked.

  “Thor!” Frigga exclaimed, shocked.

  More shouting, but trying to focus on their words was growing too taxing.  The throbbing had developed into sharp stabbing pains that mostly seemed concentrated in his chest and head, but everything hurt intensely.  This was worse than his unfortunate encounter with Banner’s monster, although the thought of that was enough to elicit a moan from him.  A moan which apparently was loud enough to silence the shouting, which he had to admit, was a blessing.

  “Loki…?”

  It took him a moment to place the voice… but of course that was Thor again.  He didn’t attempt a response; he was fairly certain that if he opened his mouth nothing resembling speech would result.

  “We cannot leave him like this,” Thor began hotly, although underneath Loki could detect an edge of pleading, “Look at him!”  Loki could imagine the way Thor would be gesturing dramatically in his direction, just like he had no trouble at all picturing the face his stubborn brother would be making, all hard angry lines, except for his eyes; those would be burning with emotion. Not that he’s actually your brother, Loki thought to himself.  Thor would be having trouble standing still, he was always more prone to actions than words.  Although, Loki had to admit to himself, seemingly his time on Midgard had cured him of some of his hotheadedness.

  “What would you do instead, Thor?” Odin asked seriously.  Loki had trouble imagining what expression the Allfather would have upon his face, but Frigga, although currently silent, he could picture with ease.  She would be all motherly concern, mostly directed at Thor, no doubt, but a part of him could almost hope that some of it would be for him.

  He could hear Thor breathing heavily, giving him the impression that he had missed a larger portion of the argument than he had originally thought.  “Treat his wounds, heal him.  His mind was already broken; this, no doubt, did him no favors.”

  “And who do you propose would care for him?  There are few in Asgard who would willingly take on such a task, and even fewer still who could be trusted to do so.”

  “I will,” Thor said resolutely.  It was a voice that would accept no argument: a kingly voice. 

  Thor, you fool, Loki thought to himself, what are you doing?

  “Odin, my love,” Frigga said, “We must do something, if there is any hope at all… We will devise some way to explain this, an illness perhaps?  I think all would agree that Loki’s punishment has gone on long enough; no one besides us need know the details.  If Thor is willing to take responsibility for him…”

  “Do you?” Odin asked, “Do you swear to be responsible not only for caring for him, but also for his actions once he is healed, if he can be healed?”

  “I do,” Thor intoned.  The slight rustling of cloth and the clinking chime of Mjolnir being set on the floor told Loki that Thor had kneeled.

  You idiot, Loki managed to think to himself before he blacked out again.

      There was less pain this time, not much less, but enough that Loki could begin to think around it.  He didn’t think he’d be able to move, but opening his eyes might be a possibility.

  “Loki!”  It was Thor’s attempt at a hushed whisper, but still far too loud.  He groaned in reply, although he had a feeling that responding at all had been a mistake.  Perhaps Thor would assume it was an unconsciously made noise and leave him alone, but it was unlikely.

  “Loki…” Thor murmured, much quieter this time.  To Loki’s horror it sounded as if he was close to tears.  *Thor in tears was always something he was weak to,* no matter the situation.  In fact, Thor in tears would be the undoing of him, he was certain.  It was why he always had to escape from it as soon as possible, but this time there was no possible way for him to leave.  Unless he could manage to slip away into unconsciousness, but that was becoming less and less likely with every passing second.

  “Brother… I am sorry, I have failed you.”

  Despite himself, Loki flickered his eyes open at that.  Though the lighting was dim it still hurt his head, but the pain was actually lessened enough that he could tell he was lying on a bed.  He couldn’t begin to sort out what hurt exactly, besides the pounding headache, but he supposed it was a start.

  “When we returned, I… I never imagine this would happen,” Thor said heavily, “If I had but known, I would never have let you be imprisoned in the first place. I will forever curse myself for leaving you behind, Brother.  No matter your crimes, this was undeserved.”

  What...? Loki thought to himself.  Thor was making even less sense than usual.  Except… except there was something about the phrasing… He couldn’t quite place it, but it felt like he was forgetting something; something important.  He wanted to demand an explanation, but merely trying to breathe was a taxing experience.  He tried to look at Thor, hoping seeing his face would in some way aid him in making sense of Thor’s words.  He was having trouble focusing his gaze on anything, but after a while he managed to find Thor’s face.  Thor was crying, not sobbing, but he had that horrible lost look on his face, the one that made Loki feel things he didn’t want to, like remorse and the ridiculous need to immediately fix whatever it was that pained Thor so.  Thor was perched on the edge of the bed, leaning over him slightly.  Not close enough to make Loki feel claustrophobic, but he could only imagine how unpleasant it would be if Thor moved.  He wondered if that was what had awoken him in the first place.  Doubtless no matter how gentle he tried to be, Thor would have jostled him when he sat down.

  Thor gave him a searching look, piercing enough *with his too blue eyes* that Loki had to look away, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.  He didn’t dare attempt actually turning his head, but he hoped Thor would take the hint.  Thor sighed and settled back on the bed and that was enough that Loki couldn’t help but cry out in pain.  Although it was more of a croak than anything else, and he was glad he couldn’t currently remember what had been done to him.  No doubt it had involved a large amount screaming on his part.

  Thor froze.  “Brother,” he began.

  “I’m not your brother,” Loki snapped, although what came out of his mouth was a barely discernible harsh whisper.  And it caused a riot of pain to erupt in his chest, not to mention his throat.  Oh yes, he had definitely done a lot of screaming in the recent past.

  “You mustn’t try to speak,” Thor said immediately, reaching over for something off of a nearby table, jostling Loki once more.  He attempted to control his reaction to the pain, but a hiss escaped his mouth despite his best efforts. “Here, drink this,” Thor said, holding a goblet to Loki’s mouth.

  Loki glared at him, how Thor expected him to be able to raise his head enough to drink Loki didn’t know, but it spoke volumes about Thor’s intelligence, or at least his lack of skill when it came to being a nursemaid.  Thor at least had the decency to blush and remedy his mistake by attempting to gently lift Loki’s head, but that was too much for even Loki’s self-control.  This time he did cry out even though making noise only served to cause him more pain.

  Thor’s eyes looked positively haunted as he waited for Loki to be able to drink.  Loki was ashamed to find that he could barely manage swallowing on his own, choking on the almost tasteless liquid.  Thor was patient with him though, allowing him time between each painful sip to catch his breath.  If he hadn’t been in so much pain he would have been beyond horrified of his own weakness, but it was difficult to muster much emotion, especially as whatever Thor had given him to drink started to take effect.  A not altogether unpleasant sensation of tingling numbness spread throughout his body, and he sighed in relief.  Thor also made a noise of relief, and slid carefully from the bed.  Loki could feel sleep overtaking him, but fought it off, forcing his eyes to remain open.  He struggled to keep his eyes focused on Thor. “Why are you doing this?” he murmured, comforted by the fact that his voice was at least starting to resemble the way he remembered it sounding.

  Thor looked surprised and opened his mouth to reply, but just then unconsciousness claimed Loki once more, and Thor’s voice only registered as a distant rumble.

      Loki startled awake, his breathing rapid, and aching in his chest.  He suspected he had at least a few broken ribs, but was pleased to discover that overall he hurt significantly less than the last time he remembered waking.  He couldn’t figure out what had awoken him at first, but a vague recollection of some sort of unpleasant dream flashed through his head, and he pushed the memory of it away.  He was afraid it was less of a dream and more of a remembrance of whatever had been done to him before Thor had, apparently, rescued him.  As if his very thoughts had summoned him, Thor walked up to his bedside, “Ah, good, you are awake again.”

  Loki managed a sarcastic smile, while mentally taking inventory of his aches and pains; as well as his limbs, not even the Aesir, or as he was loath to remind himself, Jotnar, could regenerate limbs.  Or eyes, he amended thinking of Odin.  He was pleased to note that it seemed he wasn’t missing any fingers or toes, and from the brush of it against his neck it seemed his hair hadn’t even been disturbed.  Vain as he was, he couldn’t help but consider that a small victory.  “Here to drug me into slumber again, Brother?” he asked.  His voice was almost back to normal, another victory.

  Thor glared at him, but looked as if he was trying to hide some other emotion.  They stared at each other steadily and finally Thor broke, his expression changing to one of intense relief.  Loki had to look away.  Damn Thor, him and his damnable honor, or whatever it was that was driving him to do this.

  “I dare not drug you again, too often and you could slip away,” Thor said hesitantly, “It was unfortunately necessary as the only way to attend to your wounds; otherwise you thrashed about too often and injured yourself further.”

  Loki looked back at Thor, surprised when this time it was Thor who looked away first.  “You no doubt have noticed that you are weaker than you should be. Unfortunately Father had to take away some of your strength, and with it your natural healing abilities, else we would have been forced to re-break bones so they would set correctly.”

  Loki acted as if this news did not surprise him while suppressing a shudder, thankful that his mind was still protecting him from such memories.  He wasn’t looking forward to when he’d have to face them.

  Thor gave him a thoughtful look, “Do you think you’d be able to sit propped up?”

  Loki bit back the sharp retort that instantly came to mind and instead nodded.  He wasn’t at all sure if he would be able to manage, but admitting to weakness was never one of his favorite pastimes.

  Thor gently slid an arm under his shoulders and Loki blanched, but allowed himself no other reaction.  To his credit, Thor was extremely gentle and slowly lifted him to a sitting position.  Loki sucked in a pained breath, holding it in as Thor deftly placed pillows behind his back, before lowering Loki back against them.  Loki closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, the agony in his chest was definitely the most pressing pain but he tried to take that as a good sign.  If a few broken ribs were the worst of his injuries he couldn’t be too bad off anymore.  He let his breath out in a hiss and finally opened his eyes.  Thor was staring at him with concern, and he managed a half smile, his eyebrows quirking, at least this didn’t hurt, “Your concern is touching, Thor.”

  Thor scowled at him, “You make a mockery of this situation, do you not realize how close to death you were?”

  That gave Loki pause but he widened his grin to hide it, “I cannot fathom why you didn’t leave me to perish, but I suppose thanks are in order.”

  Thor sighed, “At least you are able to speak again.  I’ll have to procure more healing stones for your ribs.”

  Loki blinked in surprise, grin fading from his face completely, “You’ve been healing me yourself?”  He dimly remembered Thor promising to look after him, but he hadn’t actually thought Thor would be fulfilling that promise so literally.

  “I suppose you were not conscious for the conversation, but yes, I swore to be your caretaker.”

  Loki frowned at this; now that he thought about it there was another part to this promise Thor had made to Odin, but he was unable to recall it at the moment.  He didn’t like that, that his memory was so poor of late.  He supposed he should be grateful that he apparently was unable to remember the more painful moments, but there was something nagging at him about what Thor had sworn to do.

  Thor was looking at him gravely, “Will you be alright for a few moments on your own?”

  “I think I can manage, it’s not like I can go anywhere.”

  “That is what worries me, Brother.  If you had your magic I would not fear leaving you alone.”

  “Are you worried about me being unable to protect myself?” Loki asked, feigning shock.  Of course Thor was worried, he had no sense at all, or at least not enough to realize worrying about Loki was a waste of time.

  “Yes, Mother has taken watch over you when able, and I have managed to convince Hogun to at least guard the hallway, but both of them are unavailable at the moment.”

  Loki’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief.  *“Are you implying that there are those who have attempted to finish me off in my invalid state?”  He wasn’t at all surprised about that either,* but he couldn’t very well ask Thor why he was protecting Loki in the first place, or how in the name of Yggdrasil he had managed to convince Hogun of all people to help guard him. Although, Loki was fairly certain he would’ve died of shock if it had been Fandral or Volstagg… let alone Lady Sif.  Mostly likely Hogun had agreed both out of the ridiculous loyalty the Warriors Three had for Thor, and a desire to make sure Loki did not cause further trouble.

  Thor narrowed his eyes, “I am slightly more talented than that at seeing through your duplicity, Brother.”

  Loki looked away from Thor; this was far too exhausting, “You are correct, I am not in the least bit surprised that there are many who wish me dead.”  It came out more bitterly than he intended, and he was glad he couldn’t see Thor’s face.

  Therefore it was a surprise when, with only the slight warning of the rustling of cloth, he found himself enveloped in a careful hug.

  His breath caught, and he did his best to hold still.  He didn’t dare look at Thor, but he felt something suspiciously like hot tears fall on his neck.  This was too much. He closed his eyes tightly against the tears that were stinging his own eyes.  He had forgotten how much he missed this… missed Thor.

  It was unbearable.

  “Please… just go,” he managed after a few moments, hating himself for how badly he craved physical contact.  How weak he felt, that after everything he had been through, all it took was something as innocuous as an embrace to undo him so completely. Thor withdrew reluctantly, and Loki waited until he heard the door close quietly before he let himself fall apart.

      He had drifted off into a mostly peaceful state of not quite sleep when he heard the door open, “Thor-” he began. Any further words choked off when he saw who stood in the doorway.

  “Lady Sif,” he said stiffly.

  “Hogun said you were awake, but I had to see for myself,” she said coldly. Her eyes surveyed him dispassionately.  Loki had no idea what she saw, but he was suddenly painfully aware of how he was only wearing a thin linen undershirt and trousers, although the blankets were pooled around his lap.  In fact he had yet to even catch a glimpse of his reflection, but judging from the state of his hands which were bruised and covered with a scattering of cuts, he could imagine he wasn’t at his best.  How much better he would feel if he was at least properly dressed, let alone what he would give to have a weapon in easy reach.  Better yet would be his magic restored to him, but there was no use wishing for such things now.

  “I’m surprised at how much Thor has managed to heal you,” she finally remarked, “Although it is a well-known secret that Frigga has been aiding him.”

  Loki tried his best to remain impassive looking, he didn’t want to know how much worse off he had been if this was such an improvement.  Sif seemed to be waiting for a response, but Loki remained stoically silent.  It was a small defiance but there was little else he could do.

  Sif’s face suddenly changed, her eyes blazing with anger.  “You ungrateful bastard, Thor is risking everything for you!  If you so much as hint of traitorous intentions I will kill you myself before you can betray him,” she hissed, stalking over to stand next to the bed.  Loki felt dwarfed by her, both by her impressive stature and the force of her fierce loyalty to Thor.

  “What do you mean Thor is risking everything for me?” he finally asked, the words dragged out of him.  He met Sif’s glare steadily even as something akin to cold horror spread through him.

  “You mean he didn’t tell you?” she asked incredulously.  “He swore on his honor and his life that from here on out he would be responsible for you… not just taking care of you but for your actions as well,” she added with disgust.

  Loki closed his eyes, a whole conflicting mess of emotions running through him.  He tried to fight it off, but eventually he could only feel guilt… guilt and horror.  He was starting to think it would have been better the option to face justice on Midgard. This was too confusing… he didn’t want to feel.  He hadn’t thought this far ahead when he had worked out his plan on Midgard, besides to remain patient; patient enough to eventually escape captivity and leave Asgard far behind.  It would be so much easier to not care, but he couldn’t pretend to that now.  Even hating Thor was still caring for him in some manner, and this feeling now was not as akin to hate as he would like.

  He finally opened his eyes, unable to keep the self-loathing out of them.  He was beyond caring what Sif saw in his face.  Whatever it was, Sif’s eyes briefly filled with pity, and that was more than he could take.

  “Leave,” he spat at her, mustering as much hatred as he could and forcing it into that one word.

  Sif hesitated, if anything looking more concerned than before.

  “I said, LEAVE!” he screamed at her, collapsing back against the pillows in pain as he heard the door slam shut. He couldn’t catch his breath, reduced to frantic gasping that did nothing to alleviate the stabbing pain in his ribs.  He clutched at the sheets, gritting his teeth as he tried to control the pain.

  That was how Thor found him.  Loki had no idea how long it had been, but he had a feeling he had injured himself worse because the pain was not lessening in the least.

  “Loki,” Thor said; his voice a mix of sorrow and disappointment.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Loki hissed through his teeth.

  Thor looked away, fidgeting awkwardly, “I hardly had a chance.  You’ve been… barely conscious at best for a few weeks now-“

  “A few weeks?” he interrupted.

  Thor’s eyes flicked back to him.  “Mother and I were starting to think you weren’t going to wake up again.”

  Loki let himself sink even further into the pillows, still gasping slightly at the pain. His eyes searched the space in front of him, before he finally turned his head back to look at Thor, “Why did you bother then?  Why did you not leave me to die?”  He couldn’t help but make comparisons to another conversation, in which he had asked nearly those exact same questions.  Why did these Asgardians ever deem him worthy of saving?  Odin he could understand, the Allfather had possessed political reasons in addition to whatever else had motivated him… but Thor?  Thor who he had betrayed how many times now?  And still the fool was willing to put his life on the line for him; it made no sense.

  “Loki, I love you,” Thor said empathetically, “You are my brother though it is not by blood.  And I cannot help but see in you all of the mistakes I have made over the years that led you to this.”

  “So it is pity that has stayed your hand,” Loki said venomously, the pain in his ribs forgotten for the moment, “pity and some twisted form of Asgardian honor no doubt.”

  Thor’s expression turned thunderous, in a blink of an eye he was lifting Loki up by his shirt collar, “You are forever making mockery of the fact that I love you.  Do you believe yourself such a monster that you will allow no one to think of you with anything but hatred?”

  Loki stared back at Thor, unable to control his expression.  Again he wasn’t sure what showed on his face, but Thor’s expression softened.  “Yes,” he finally managed, feeling something splinter inside him as he admitted it aloud.  Something besides the now screaming pain in his ribcage, which he finally was unable to ignore. “Thor,” he rasped out, grasping helplessly at the larger man’s arms.

  Clearly horrified at himself, Thor settled Loki back against the pillows, watching as the color slowly returned to his brother’s face.  Loki eventually slowed his breathing, but couldn’t keep the pain off of his face this time; he also couldn’t help but make small pained noises with every exhale.

  “Loki, I am sorry, I am so, so sorry,” Thor started repeating frantically.

  “It was not- entirely- your fault,” he panted, gritting his teeth again, “I think I broke another rib or two when Sif was here.”  He looked back at Thor, horrified to find his eyes spilling over with tears again.  Thor seemed to not know what to do with his hands, but finally grasped one of Loki’s gently, offering a slightly sad smile.  Loki gripped onto Thor’s hand tightly, letting himself admit, if only in his own head, that it was comforting to hold onto someone.

  Eventually when it appeared that the pain was not going to pass, Thor brought forth the same elixir as before, helping Loki gulp it down.  This time Loki knew what to expect and didn’t fight the tingling numbness, though he was fairly certain he didn’t imagine it when he felt Thor take hold of his hand again.  In either case, it was enough that he drifted off to sleep peacefully.

      He awoke propped up on the pillows still, and was immediately aware that someone was holding his hand again.  His first thought was Thor, but no, these hands were far too delicate.  His eyelids fluttered open and he turned his head to see Frigga.  She smiled, so beautiful, and so sad, and Loki felt his heart tear apart a little more.

  “Oh Loki,” she sighed, reaching out to stroke his cheek, “I was so worried.  You have no idea how relieved I was to discover that you were alive.  And then when Thor brought you home, if I had but known, this would never have happened to you.”  She met his eyes seriously and Loki felt the urge to flinch away, but resisted.  “When Thor brought you before your father and me, and I saw what had been done to you,” her eyes filled with tears, and she leaned in, resting her forehead against his.  Her hands framed his face now, brushing his hair back, “I thought you were lost to us forever.  And then again while we were healing you, to see you suffering so much; I thought we were going to lose you once more.  But Thor had faith, faith that you would survive your wounds.”  She leaned back and Loki had no doubt that the tears in her eyes were matched by the tears in his own.

  “I-I,” he began helplessly.  He lifted his hand, marveling when he realized that no longer was his skin marred in any manner.

  “Your ribs are not completely healed yet, and I’m afraid that even once they are you will find yourself very weak for some time, but most of your other wounds are gone,” Frigga said with a smile.  And oh, how he longed in that moment to be able to call her mother.  He had thought that any desire to belong in this family had been quashed out, but now the familiar pangs had returned.  Frigga grasped his still raised hand and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.  “Loki, no matter what, you will always be my son,” she said, as if able to read his thoughts.

  He closed his eyes at this, because this kindness, this was nothing he was prepared for.  He could already feel it begin to tear him apart further.  Soon there would be nothing left, and then what would the point of all of this be?  He didn’t belong here, no matter how much he wished it was otherwise, and to be so torturously close, but still know it impossible was such cruelty.  He could hardly bear it.  If he had just been allowed to parish… he’d been close numerous times now, it would have been a far kinder fate.  But then, he supposed, he hardly deserved a kind fate.

  “Ah, Loki, you have awakened again,” Thor boomed from the doorway.  Loki realized with a start that Thor looked better than he had in a long time, or at least any of these last few times Loki had been conscious enough to see him.  It made him wonder how often Thor had actually left Loki’s bedside to rest himself.

  Thor smiled broadly at Frigga and sat down on the bed as well.  It was more than enough to make Loki feel crowded and he was intensely aware that Frigga was still holding his hand.  He couldn’t decide if he wished Thor wasn’t there so he could enjoy Frigga’s company for longer, or if he would rather just escape from them both because there was just something so bright and gleaming about them.  Something he knew he lacked.

  Thor clapped him on the shoulder, and Loki tried to school his expression to one of calm, as a spasm of pain shot through his chest.  “Thor!” Frigga scolded, “You know your brother is not completely healed yet.”

  Thor grinned sheepishly.  “Sorry Brother, you look so much better today that I forgot for a moment.”

  “It’s fine,” he assured him, hoping his voice sounded neutral and polite.  It was the best he could manage at the moment.

  Thor gripped his neck affectionately, “hopefully in another day or two we’ll get you up out of bed, and maybe even outside for some fresh air.”

  Frigga shot Thor an unreadable look, before turning back to him.  “Loki, dear,” she said lifting a strand of his hair, “Your hair is getting a bit long; maybe I’ll trim it for you today.”

  Loki realized after a moment that they both seemed to be waiting for a reply and that behind their happy expressions they looked worried.  However he had no response ready; he was completely out of his depth.  He hadn’t the energy to play along, to fake smiles so convincingly he almost believed them himself.  To tell a lie made of truths.  He opened his mouth and then closed it again, knowing that he was furrowing his eyebrows, and that this would only cause them further alarm.  But he couldn’t look at either of them; he didn’t want to know what he’d see in their faces.

  Frigga leaned in again, and kissed his cheek.  “I’ll give you some time to adjust a bit, Dear.  I’ll be back later to check on you.”

  Loki still couldn’t find a response as he stared at the wall.  He hadn’t felt quite so lost, in a long time. When Frigga left he still couldn’t find the motivation to do anything besides stare, and so he was terribly startled when Thor suddenly spoke.  “Loki,” he said in his low voice, “would you look at me please?”

  Loki unwillingly dragged his gaze to Thor’s.

  Thor’s eyes searched his face yet again, and Loki had to fight the squirming sensation that he needed to look away.  Thor finally sighed, “I’m sorry, Brother.  This is harder than I expected it to be.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” he managed to ask, relieved that his voice sounded normal; that it didn’t betray his fear.

  “You…” Thor paused, as if searching for words, “you were so broken. I wasn’t sure if there was anything left of you.  When we first arrived back on Asgard I had hope because you already seemed more stable, more yourself compared to how you were back on Earth.  I thought you would face justice here, but I was wrong.  There was no justice for you, and by the time I realized it, it was almost too late.”

  Loki found himself growing more suspicious of why he had such large gaps in his memory, he did in fact remember arriving in Asgard, shackled and muzzled, the Tesseract in tow.  He even vaguely remembered being sentenced to imprisonment until such a time as he was deemed no longer a danger to the realms, but then things became hazy; a blur that ended up in the dim pain filled memory of Thor arguing with Odin on his behalf.  The rest after that he knew was fuzzy and filled with gaps due to whatever Thor and Frigga had been making him drink.  But the first gap of memory seemed different.

  “Why can I not remember any of this?” he finally asked, watching Thor’s face carefully.

  Thor’s eyes flickered down and then back up, almost too quick to catch, but Loki’s skill was with deception, and Thor was no match for him, even with him so weakened as this.  “Do not attempt to lie to me,” he warned.

  Thor sighed.  “Father took the memories from you. It… when we discovered what had been done to you, at first we believed you no longer alive.  The horror that you were still, and in such a state…”

  Loki blinked a few times, adjusting to this new information.  “I am assuming I was tortured then.  Nearly to death, am I correct?”

  “Yes,” Thor replied darkly, “not just once, but repeatedly.  You were healed every time you were on the edge death so they could begin again.  It was Heimdall who interceded on your behalf and informed me of what was taking place.  Father also was not aware of the state of things.”

  More new information, Loki stored this away as well.  He found it unlikely that the Allfather was that unaware of the situation.  He knew Odin to be no sadist, but it seemed unlikely that the King of Asgard would be so ignorant of his own affairs.  However, Loki was surprised by the fact that the Gatekeeper, who had good reason to despise him, had come to his rescue. It suggested that there was something else to this story; Heimdall did not lightly disobey the commands of his King.

  “I feared not only for your health, but also for your sanity, dear Brother.  We did the only thing we could do, and tried to erase it all from your memory,” Thor paused, “if you are finding it a bit difficult to adjust, this is mostly likely the cause.”

  To give himself an excuse to not look at Thor, Loki propped himself up on his elbows, ignoring the ache of his still not quite healed ribs.  At least a few things made sense now.  For example why he was struggling so much with things he thought he had put behind him, although, a part of his mind pointed out, where they ever really gone?  Or had he just suppressed them?  Having his mind manipulated like that, even though it had apparently been done for his own good, would still have drastic effects on his whole being, not just the memories erased.

  This had not been in the plan.  To end up back on Asgard had been his intention all along, though not for any ridiculously sentimental reasons like Thor would believe.  Asgard had seemed to be the safest choice, better than dealing with mortals and whatever they would deem a worthy punishment, and certainly safer than trying to outrun Thanos.  Apparently he had been wrong.  He hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but being tortured to the brink of death had not been a possibility he had entertained.

  And now to feel a longing to call Asgard home once more?  Despite the fact that it never had been?  This was not something he had even considered.  Though maybe you did, a little voice nagged him, you remember how you felt when he first appeared on Midgard?  When he said he wanted to take you home?  How badly you wanted to explain yourself to him, to the point that you even slipped him a few hints?  Loki banished the dangerous thoughts from his mind.  They were completely inaccurate; Thor appearing had simply provided him with a way out of his predicament.

  “Loki, please.  Say something.”

  “How would you like me to respond, Brother?” he asked caustically.

  Thor grabbed him by his shirt collar, hauling him up into a sitting position.  When he tried to twist away Thor grabbed his face and forced Loki to look at him.  “Is this the only way to keep your attention?” he growled.

  Loki wasn’t going to dignify that with an answer.

  Thor sighed, but didn’t let go of him; Loki could’ve tolerated it, but Thor was still touching his face, which was less than ideal.  “So you wish for me to be healed.  Not just in body, but also in mind?” he finally asked, since it seemed that Thor was not going to let him go otherwise.

  “Yes, of course,” Thor replied, as if the very fact that Loki had to ask was surprising.

  “I do not, no, cannot understand why you are even bothering to try,” Loki snarled in reply.  Anger was good.  Anger was better than guilt or shame, or worse yet the loneliness that was constantly threatening to overtake him.  He’d let himself take this out on Thor, so maybe he wouldn’t see how hurt Loki was; for he knew he was unable to bear any more of Thor’s kindness.

  Thor heaved a long suffering sigh, and made Loki look at him again, “Do you truly find yourself so unworthy of saving that you think that?”

  Loki had no response to that.

  “What can I do to convince you that you are worthy, Brother?” Thor asked, pressing his forehead against Loki’s.

  Loki drew back as much as possible, shaking his head slightly. He couldn’t help the pained expression that crossed his face, and Thor finally settled back with yet another sigh.  “Your life is worth as much as mine, Loki,” Thor said sadly; rising, and leaving the room.