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'You think you know pain? He will make you long for something sweet as pain.'
His words had not been for Thanos (they were never intended to be), but for Thor. He had promised his loyalty to his sibling for the final time, and though he knew it would be among the final words he would speak to his brother, he had uttered them all the same. He hoped, of course; a fool's hope, that he could get the dagger logged into Thanos's throat and watch him choke on his own blood for a change as Loki watches, rather than the other way around.
Fear had pulsed in every muscle of his body, but he had dragged his legs forward all the same, words pouring out of mouth and across his tongue, through his throat that Loki barely managed to catch half of. He didn't want to move; he would have much rather remained rooted to the spot for the rest of eternity, but he wouldn't let Thor suffer the stone again. Loki knows the pain and he would not wish it upon anyone. Thor's eye had watched his every movement, frustration and betrayal on his face.
"You really are the worst brother."
He knew that.
Loki had swung up the dagger towards Thanos's neck, but he never reached the throat. He hadn't expected to. He knew—oh, how he knew that this was the end. Loki didn't want to die, not anymore, he had had Thor again, finally, the other half of him that he'd been missing, and now they were about to be split again. He wished, how he longed for the ability to stop tasting death.
But it wasn't in the way that Loki first thought. He had expected the Gauntlet to wrap around his throat and the air to be sucked from him. Strangulation, steal the air he so desperately clawed at. Is this how he is to meet his end at his every near death? The Void deprived him of it, Svartalfheim skewered him through his lungs, and now he would finally lose all the air he clings to.
It, however, wasn't his end. It was meant to be, oh, how he longs for it to have gone differently, but it did not. It would not. Thanos would not have mercy on him. His version of mercy is throwing salt water onto a gaping wound and watching a person scream instead of offering any assistance.
He does not find joy in helping; only taking, and taking, and taking.
'You think you know pain?'
Loki's memories are a mess following his attempted stab. He only remembers Thanos shoving the Power Stone against his head and letting the agony slip through his head, destroying the defensises he'd created since his last capture and the agonizing feeling of pain, pain, pain. It was overwhelming and Thanos had plucked at the little remains of the Mind Stone still left in his head and tugged.
The agony of losing himself, again, was almost worse than the Power Stone against his head.
Last time he had destroyed a city.
When he had come to himself, shaking, gasping and pain still spitting through every vein, Thor's blood was all over his hands and Thor was—
Thor was—
Loki had gaped in trepidation at the realization, his chest heaving with a building scream. Horror clawed at him, his hands were covered in red. Red. Red. Red. He remembers a time in desperation where he had wanted Thor to kill him and had declared his hatred for the elder to achieve it. He was a monster, anyway, why should it Thor have resisted it? He finally grasps why the idea disgusted the elder so.
Blood.
There had been so much blood.
Loki had stared down at the corpse at his feet, strewn with so many others they had defended until all were dead and lay dying, to wounded to move. But somehow this one was worse. It was by his hand. He had—
Thor's lifeless eye stared up at him, face twisted on a permanent expression of agony.
Horror clawed at his chest, threatening to escape as a scream.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no—
Thanos had made him—
Thor. Thor. Thor.
Thanos had—
Thanos had—
His legs had failed him and Loki had collapsed to his knees, a choking noise escaping him at overpowering grief and disgust. Monster. He was a monster, he bore the name before; he has all his life because of his heritage, but now—
Loki had—
Thanos's large hand had then rested on his hair, smoothing it back as if to comfort him. "Little king," he had sighed, almost as if disappointed. There was this feeling in his chest, this growing disgust and utter terror at what had happened and he couldn't pull away. His limbs were frozen. Stuck. Or perhaps it was just the Mind Stone's echo in his head that Thanos had pulled at. It didn't matter. Loki had— "Perhaps you'll be more willing to obey in the future now."
'He will make you long for something sweet as pain—'
Loki had imagined further torture, perhaps his death, but this—this...The Other had not warned in vain, he never had—"Stop fighting it, little Jotun, the Master will be merciful"—He was not a kind being, by no means, but he had watched Thanos for centuries, he knew the Mad Titan's tactics. His designs. And the Other was right. He did long for the pain. He had—
Thanos had rested his hand on Loki's hair, playing with his thin sweat slicked strands as if to reassure that "all is well, you will see. You will thank me for this later, little king" and Loki had opened his mouth then howled. Long, guttural and loud; screaming and screaming because Loki had—
Thanos had—
Thanos made him stab Thor. Repeatedly.
Loki had murdered his brother.
He killed Thor. He killed Thor. He killed Thor. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.
He screamed until he didn't.
000o000
Stale.
The air has long since gone stale. This however, is nothing new. He knows this taste, the smell of the horrors that wrack throughout this prison, it has belonged to him before, and as long as he has resided in it, it has never been fresh. It has done nothing but seep through his throat and wrap around his lungs, squeezing. It is a punishment and mercy to breathe.
Loki has not had much contact with the outside world since he was taken by Thanos after Thor's death. He remembers the haze of blue and the whisper to be silent when all he had wanted to do was wail and scream because it should have been him. It shouldn't have been Thor. It shouldn't have been Thor. His promises were empty and all that is left on his tongue once more is lies. Facilities. The sun will shine on—
He doesn't know how long it's been since The Snap, but he know it's been years. He used to scrape time out along the walls to not lose himself to the madness, but gave up after the second year because he ran out of room.
He is losing his mind to these four walls and he doesn't know how to stop.
Thanos had not left him here to rot; wiping out half the universe did not erupt countless joys of gratitude, but rather vengeful armies grouping together to avenge their dead. Thanos's children were killed in the first battle before The Snap, and his armies are scattered and half dead. Wiping out everything meant everything.
Loki was once labeled as the greatest sorcerer in the Nine Realms by Asgard and he had bore the title with humility. No one took it seriously, but they should have. Thanos did. He did when he was leaving Nidavellir after the skirmish of death with his new Infinity Gauntlet and stole him from the Void. He had taken his world-walking abilities seriously and hadn't doubted his magic.
Which is why he tried so hard to control it.
Why it hurt so terribly when Thanos poisoned it with the Mind Stone.
Thanos hadn't killed him physically, but Loki died right along with Thor. Gamora died during some phase of the race to get the Infinity Stones, Loki can't remember when, all he knows is the haze of pain because without the Mind Stone it wasn't a smooth transition. Nebula was after, he knew both of them during his capture. The Infinity Gauntlet was damaged after The Snap and when Thanos attempted to go back to Nidavellir, the final Dwarf had vanished in The Snap. Thanos could not defend himself as well, so he had used Loki as the shield.
Loki is more grateful than he cares to admit that he cannot remember what happens in the blue haze well. He knows that the Avengers (minus Thor, and whose fault is that?) assembled with the army of resistance that included Nebula and led an attack against Thanos.
None of them survived.
Loki hands are covered in blood. He chokes on it. Like Thor choked on his.
Murderer.
He knows that what he does under the Mind Stone would disgust Thor, it would horrify his mother and his father would recoil at it. Loki himself cannot help the bile that follows when he does remember. He is a source of chaos, but now his chaos only involves death.
He would beg for forgiveness till his voice gave out if it would stop the guilt, but he knows that no amount of apologies from his lying tongue would ever be enough. He is a monster, and he cannot stop it.
000o000
Loki rarely sleeps anymore, his dreams are hazes of memories joined together to create an awful battlefield from what he has done, he sees Thor's horror as Loki's long dagger plunges through his heart, he remembers the feeling of power steering across his fingertips as he stole the life from the remaining Avengers. Worst of all, though, is when he dreams of Frigga standing beside him as he does this all, the look of horror on her face as she watches her son finally completely embrace the monster within him.
And Loki is trapped here.
Always caged, always a prisoner.
His escape attempts are futile and Thanos responds with pain. It is always pain, eventually he gave up trying. Without anything to fight for, there wasn't much of a point anymore. Thor is dead, Asgard is dead, the Avengers are gone and Thanos has already won.
Loki misses Asgard. He misses it when he was a child, when he didn't understand how his Realm was collapsing, how Thor was bound to lead them into another intergalactic war and he and Thor were still friends with nothing between them. No Warriors Three and Sif, not political duties, nothing. They were oblivious and happy.
He misses Thor's idiotic friends, he misses Frigga, the smell of her hair, her gentle touch, her hugs, the familiarity of her sedir. He misses Odin. He misses blankets and Asgard's apples, the smell of the coastlines—everything. He misses Thor. He aches for Thor like a part of him has been severed and he can't find footing on his awkward limbs anymore.
He misses and misses and misses and it is useless.
He is pathetic. He sits and weeps, longing for something he knows will never come back.
Loki does not sleep often, anymore, he does his best to withhold from slipping into the chorus of nightmares that follow with the lead singer pitching horror at the top of their lungs. He is, however, not immune to it, though he wishes he was.
Dreams are the only place he sees Thor. It is the only place where Asgard is still here, even if it is in flames.
000o000
He knows that he is dreaming, because he has not been on the Statesmen in years and he is capable of pointing out inaccuracies in his dreams that often make his brain pout and send him back into wakefulness. This time is different, he remains standing over Thor's gasping body once more and when he realizes Thor should not be alive anymore at this point, it does not cast him awake.
Loki almost hates the dreams where Thor is alive more than standing over his corpse because it reminds him that he killed Thor. He stole the life. It is his fault. This time is no different.
Thor's chest is wheezing for breath trying to find a place for it between the dagger plunged into his ribs. Loki is standing numbly over Thor's fallen body, his gaze staring down at Thor and sucking in every detail he can once more. He does not want to forget his brother's face and if this is the only way to do it, so be it.
Thor's hand reaches up towards him, grasping at the edges of Loki's fingers, blue eye wide, "Why?" He chokes out and rattles the tip of Loki's hand. Loki cannot answer him. His voice has been stolen. "Loki." Thor chokes, a cough rippling through his throat. "Please."
Kill him.
Loki does not want to, not again, he has done it so many times now, but it doesn't stop the agony.
Kill him.
"Loki," Thor's voice is softer, almost gentle and Loki stares down at him, confused. "Loki, it's okay."
This is not the way it's supposed to go.
"Loki—" Still gentle and Loki cannot stand it. He does not want Thor's reassurances—he does not deserve it—what he did was not acceptable and Thor should be furious. Loki brings the dagger down of his own volition this time, but awakens before it can slam into Thor's heart.
A sharp exhale of air escapes him and he tumbles onto his knees, breathing heavily, air escaping as if he's been running because of how similar it sounds to panting. He is awake now, and will be for many more long hours; sleep does not provide reprieve, but it makes the time pass faster. His mother used to fret about how she had no time on her hands constantly and now Loki finds himself begging for the same predicament.
So many long hours left to only his thoughts.
Perhaps it is a form of Thanos's punishment, leaving him here to rot as his mind tumbles into chaos.
"Loki."
Loki jolts, his head whirling towards the sound because despite how many years it's been since he actually heard the distinct rumbling baritone of his sibling, he knows it like the pulse of his own heartbeat. But it cannot be Thor because—
Because—
Loki killed him.
"Loki." Again, and Loki does not understand why. Has he finally lost his mind? The final grip he had on sanity lost to this room? He would not be awfully surprised, he hasn't felt mentally stable since long before Thor's coronation. Even the brief respite between Svatherheim and Ragnarok did not allow proper rest. Just tense coiling and a test of his acting skills.
"Brother?" Loki finally turns his head in the right angle and breath whizzes from between his teeth with surprise and slight horror. How—? What—? Why—? When—?
A blueish form of his sibling is standing a few feet away towards the wall of his cell arms folded and expression open as ever, if slightly irritated. Loki can't see his feet and everything else seems strangely translucent and blurry, but it is the distinct form of his older brother.
How on the Nine?
Loki's lips part, ragged breath escaping him. It can't be Thor, it can't be because Thor's body is still out in space floating without a proper burial with the rest of their citizens and he died at Loki's hand. There is no way that—he has finally lost his mind and is hallucinating. That must be it. It is the only reasonable explanation.
When did he last have water? Days ago now. Thirst, too, must be the culprit then.
"You're dead." Loki states, plainly, simply, because there is no other reasonable explanation. He knows that if the All-Father's have planted enough energy, they can remain in spirit tethered to their kin for a hundred years, but for all he has read he has never found an actual ghost story. Because that is what this is, Thor's ghost.
No, no it's not, it's Loki's mind finally slipping.
Slipping and slipping falling down and down like after he let go of Gungnir.
Perhaps he never hit the Chitauri homeworld and this has all been an attempt from his mind as a last ditching effort to save itself.
Thor sighs, as if the answer Loki gave him was both expected and beyond dull. Thor is haunting him, but his ghost has the termity to look bored. "Last I checked, not really."
Loki clutches at his hair, "This can't be happening." He moans, he's tugging so hard his scalp aches.
Thor's head tilts slightly, his face dripping with slight concern, "Loki?"
Loki snaps his eyes towards the hovering form, "Go away!" He commands, pulling harder on his hair. His vision is starting to blur from pain. Good, this way he can't see Thor anymore. "Go away. I killed you. I killed you."
Thor frowns again. "Loki, I—I'm not angry. About my death, it's okay."
"No, it's not!" Loki yells and leaps to his unsteady bare feet and stumbles towards the ghost-projection-conformation-of-his-insanity and waves a hand through it. "You're dead and your not coming back! I killed you!" He rages, "I... killed... you." he states, his words are tight in his throat. Where he waves is making the gathered matter dissipate. Thor's expression furrows and he stares at him with concern before his form vanishes all together.
Loki collapses to his knees where the form hovered. Now that it's gone, he wishes it would come back. He is insane, but if Thor was still here, at least his insanity was playing nice tricks on him.
'I assure you brother, the sun will shine on us again.'
But Loki doesn't want the sun if Thor's not there to bask in the light with him.
000o000
The next time Thor appears it's a week later (Loki has started clawing at the floors to count the passage of time again so he has an actual date). Thanos has not visited him and his throat is tight with need for substance and liquid, he's a pathetic lump of limbs curled on the floor around his stomach, staring valley towards the corner across from his own when the blue light snaps together and Thor staggers as if disoriented.
Loki moans and covers his eyes with his hands.
Insane.
Is he?
He's lasted years here without any bit of this popping up until last week and there is still no reasoning as to why. He wants to be bothered by the presence, but the need for contact beyond Thanos and his handlers claws at his insides.
He removes his hands and stares his sibling in the eye. Thor looks a little more tired than he did last time, but he otherwise appears fine. His eye is still missing even in this form, but it is how Loki last recalls him being and it is a comfort.
"Thor," Loki calls attention to himself from the projection and Thor's head turns towards him, expression furrowed and concerned.
"Loki." He says the name firmly, as if reassuring himself that it is indeed that. Something in Loki's gut squirms uncomfortably. Thor cannot be forgetting him, can he? He is not here, you fool, he can forget if it suits him. "Brother, we cannot sleep."
Loki's breath catches. He does not understand, but anything Thor has to say must be of importance even if he wants to rattle Thor's arms and scream at him for dying when Loki was supposed to. Who cannot sleep? Have they tried closing their eyes?
"We cannot find rest among the dead, Brother, those who were killed by Thanos's Snap," Thor sounds so much more serious than he did last time. Sleep. Oh, sleep. They cannot make the journey to Valhalla, they are trapped between life and death and Loki cannot imagine the horrors of that.
His voice catches in his throat.
He can do nothing. He is nothing. He cannot help them.
He never could.
"Loki," Thor's voice is desperate, "you have to take the Gauntlet, you have to avenge us. Please, if you have ever cared for me, please help us die."
Oh.
Oh.
The Snap never killed anyone, it sucked them into the Soul Stone. They have never been permitted to leave and have instead wandered for years searching for release but unable to find it. The thought of a prison so extensive terrifies him. Loki is tired of cages.
Thor managed to find him, but why is Thor here? He was not killed during the Snap, Loki knows that clearly.
Does it matter? Thor is here, now.
Thor asked him to kill Thanos. The thought is laughable, he may be a sorcerer, but Thanos holds six Infinity Stones. He is no more equal to that kind of power than the flapping of butterfly wings against a hurricane.
Loki stares at Thor for a long time; but doesn't answer.
How is he to help when he is a prisoner here? He cannot escape.
He is as helpless as they are.
Thor holds his stare, but vanishes of his own accord this time.
000o000
Loki's mind whirls at the sudden revelation of the Soul Stone. He knew only by legend the price paid for the Stone. A soul for a soul, it was said in Asgard's libraries. The section on the Infinity Stones was always poor and Loki learned more from the Tesseract than he ever did the books. He never understood why; but after Hela, he thinks that Odin feared another powerful being attacking them.
But those who were taken by The Snap aren't dead, only sleeping.
Thor begged him to let them die.
Loki doesn't know if he can, if he were to take the Soul Stone, he would still have to kill every soul in its possession, rather than just contain them. A body without a soul cannot survive and wilts into dust, but the soul still exists.
If…
Maybe…
Maybe if Loki managed to get the Gauntlet, he could free the souls instead, and use the Time Stone on the Asgardians.
Maybe.
And there's still the pulsing question of how he's supposed to get the Gauntlet in the first place.
000o000
Thor (what is supposed to be Thor, but remains like some sort of stretched shadow of him) appears the next day, looking more thinned, and it occurs to Loki suddenly that the strain of keeping his matter contained in once place without his body must be exhausting.
Loki cannot leave him like this.
Loki refuses to see him suffer for the rest of eternity because he is afraid to die.
If he does die at the hand of Thanos, will it matter so much? He has done nothing but take life, perhaps it is time to give one.
000o000
Loki begins to compile plans together, straining to find anything he can use to defeat Thanos.
His brain strains till he's running on exhaustion and headaches alone, but no ideas grasp at him.
He can't take the Gauntlet without his full strength and unless it is after another rebellion has arised for him to deal with, it will not happen.
000o000
"Undying?"
Pain through his head, his hands, his entire being. He attempts to Astral Project, to throw himself from his body to escape, but he cannot. He is tethered to it because of the Space Stone. Trapped and screaming.
When he awakens, vomit on his tongue and the smell of blood the only thing he can register properly, Thor's blood is all over his hands and Loki is holding the dagger that gutted him.
"You really are the worst brother."
000o000
It has been roughly a month since Thor first found him, but when he arrives this time, he is not alone. Loki senses another aura of energy before he looks back at his sibling and squints in confusion at the figure, a young Midgardian with dulled eyes that must have been vibrate in his life.
"Loki," Thor always says his name with such confusion, as if he can never place where it belongs until Loki answers to it. It makes his heart ache in a way he doesn't understand.
Loki looks up, "Thor." He greets camly with a dip of his head, "Who is this?" He gestures to the young man. Thor's expression lifts with a ghost of a smile and he clasps the young man on the back, and Loki is immediately envious of Thor's companion. Loki cannot interact with his sibling. He cannot even touch him without fear of making the other vanish.
"This is Tony Stark's son, Peter Parker."
Loki's eyebrows raise high into his hairline. Stark had children? Since when? Surly Loki had not been missing for that many years after The Snap for this to have happened. It can't have been more than four. This Midgardian is at the cusp of adulthood.
Peter whacks Thor's arm, "I am not. I told you not to say that." He hisses, he sounds embarrassed and if their pale forms could have color, Loki imagines the Midgardian's face would have been bright red. So he is not the biological son of Stark, perhaps adopted? The thought makes his insides freeze because he was too.
Peter turns to him, eyes wide as he stares at him. Loki is certain he looks like a pathetic mess of limbs joined together with pale skin stretched over bone and dark hair falling over his shoulders. "Wow! Mr. Loki! Thor said he found you and I was ecstatic; everyone we know who can help is already dead." Peter shrugs helplessly and Loki freezes.
Thor told people about him?
This Peter Parker is excited to see him, why?
"I—" Loki's tongue catches in his throat.
Peter shifts his hands, "You're going to help us." He says the statement, firmly, and there's a childish tint to it like if Peter says it hard enough, it has to come true simply just because he wants it to be that way.
Loki wishes he could hold onto such fantasies.
Peter and Thor remain for another hour before leaving Loki alone again.
000o000
Thor returns with the original Avengers next time and Loki can not help but stare.
They are all shadowed, washed out and there is something older about them. Rogers has a beard and his Hawk has done something strange with his hair, but Romanov has as well. Bruce does not bare his other half and it occurs to Loki in a wild moment of rousing theories that because Thanos split the universe in half, that means he split Bruce and the Hulk apart as well.
Stark stares at him for a long moment before stating, frankly, "You look like you should be as dead as us."
Does he? He hasn't seen a mirror in several years.
Barton huffs, "Nah, he's still got a bit of color, we all lack that."
Loki stares down at his pale skin which is stretching across his bones like it might snap at any moment. To his gaze, he does not look any more alive than Thor's dead comrades. The Avengers remain for several hours teasing each other plus him and making fun of Loki's wild hair with great amusement. Loki comebacks at their equally awful hairstyles. Despite all the laughter, they do not look any happier than he is.
They are all trapped.
Before they leave, Barton punches his shoulder, but it feels more like he's been hit with a rather hard snowball. "You better avenge us or I promise I'm going to take your eye."
With that great promise over his head, they vanish and Loki is left once more to the quiet of the cell. The cell that is empty, and he is alone. He did not realize how starved he was for people until they were not there anymore.
Thor told everyone about him, the sudden realization hits him harder than it first did. He brought the Parker child and then his teammates. They are relying on him to release them. Thor is.
This does not quite clean up the mass chaos of his mind, but the sudden purpose drives him to try harder laced with hope.
000o000
"The Tesseract or your brother's head, I assume you have a preference."
"Oh, I do. Kill away."
Thor is screaming, he is howling at the agony and Loki knows this pain. He used to tell himself during his first capture that Thor would not have given in so easily, he wouldn't let them see weakness, he wouldn't have let him in, but Thor screams just as quickly as he did.
"Alright, stop!"
000o000
Loki knows dread well. It is something that has been built into him for years and has only gotten more powerful over the passage of time. He feels it clinging to his every bone when the cell door is opened and one of Thanos's servants, a faceless creature he's never learned the name for shoves food and water on a tray towards him.
Thanos has something he needs him to fight.
Loki does not want to do this, but he hasn't fought since the second year and stopped when Thanos used the Mind Stone on him to make him eat the food. He's so disgusted with this realization that he doesn't realize the servant has left until the door clicks shut.
His sorcery will return if he eats the meal.
He will be able to fight Thanos, and if he fails, Thor and the others will be trapped forever.
The latter terrifies him more than the former does.
000o000
Loki retreats into the corner of his mind, hiding most of his consciousness from the Mind Stone as Thanos presses the Gauntlet against his head. The burning agony washes over him once more and he retreats further to hide from it.
Thanos's mind opens to his own and the disgusting presence of the Titan leaks into his thoughts like a poison. There is no visible words, but only desires of what Thanos wants accomplished. There is resistance building up on some planet Loki cannot recall details on nor a name, only that Thanos wants it stopped. The rebels killed one of his surviving generals and attempted to steal the Reality Stone.
They did not succeed, but nearly did achieve it.
The Gauntlet pulls back from his head and Loki collapses to his knees, wheezing for breath he knows he will not be able to retain easily. His mind is a mess from how many times Thanos has used this, if he could just keep the control consistent, it would not be so painful, but Loki's sedir casts it out given enough time; but that hurts almost worse than the initial possession does.
The cracks from the glove have created weeping wounds leaking down his head with blood and as he pants for breath trying to fight off what he can of the control and it is then that it occurs to Loki what he needs to do.
Without a host, the Infinity Stones will scatter. They are like negative and positively charged electrons: they are repulsed by each other's presence. They know of each other, they can sense the others, but they do not like being in close contact. Thanos would have to start his gathering all over again, and it would take him another several hundred years to find them all, but without a host, he would not be able to wield any.
The thought delights him and Loki smiles for the first time in years his lips stretching at the strain of it, wiping blood from the side of his face. Crazed laughter begins to escape him and he can't stop suddenly because the answer is so obvious.
Thanos kicks him in the chest and Loki inhales sharply, his laughs depleting looking up at the Titan, who is frowning at him. Loki bows his head gnawing at his tongue, the blue haze tinting on the edges of his vision, he does not have long before his mind is stolen from him again.
A part of him wails at the unfairness of it.
Thanos does not ask what made him laugh, but he should have.
000o000
When Loki is released, he is curled on his side, twitching and resisting the urge to vomit. The pulsing ache in his head quiets to a dull throb, but it still doesn't make it any less pleasant. He doesn't know how many days he's lost to the control, how many hours, how many lives.
He blinks slowly, attempting to adjust to the pain so he can function properly and presses his fingers against his temples releasing a quick healing spell. His magical core is exhausted and attempting to pull anything from it is similar to pouring alcohol on a gaping wound.
"You have done well, Little King," Thanos's voice praises, somewhere to Loki's far left and now he's quite certain he will be sick. He has not awoken often in Thanos's throne room since Thor's death, only when there has been a rather gruesome slaughter.
What did he do?
How many lives?
He remembers vaguely threatening his Hawk's spider with how she'd never get the red off of her ledger. "Your ledger is dripping—it's gushing red!" Loki remembers little else from the conversation, but a few lines, and this one has always stuck with him. He'll never be able to clean his hands of the blood.
The Spider's ledger was barely sprinkled with life, his is gushing.
Loki inhales deeply and lifts his heavy head in the Titan's direction, scowling. Thanos's face is set in a pleased smile, his cracked and fraying Gauntlet ever present on his hand. Loki's gaze lingers on it for half a second longer than usual.
What makes dwarven metal rust?
In all the years that Thor wielded Mjolnir, Loki never saw it in disrepair save when their sister destroyed it. It seemed to be able to withstand anything but the crushing force of Hela's nails digging into it. But what had she done to crush it so? She seemed to dig into the pressure points that Loki didn't know where there and use some sort of sorcery.
But when Loki had stared at it, all that had fallen was rock. Why did he not think anything of this before?
The realization hits him suddenly. Death. His sister had speed up Mjolnir's life so quickly that it crumpled beneath her fingers. Dwarven metal does not rust, but it ages. It is made from dying stars and continues the normal rhythm of the stars main sequence. As it gets older, it changes elements from thick metal to other.
Loki just has to either change the form of the Gauntlet completely, or speed up the life of the metal. He only dabbled with growing plants on Asgard, though he is capable; his chances of that working are low. He can however change the substancance's elements and crush it.
Distraction. He needs to distract Thanos.
For Thor. Loki reminds himself. This is for Thor.
He keeps his face as blank as possible and slowly drags himself into a sitting position, casting an illusion in his place as he hides underneath invisibility moving forward. His feet make no sound across the large open room, but he still feels like every step echoes.
For Thor. For the Avengers. For every other life he stole.
He still needs to get a hold of the Soul Stone to release the others, he's going to have to be quick. His presses a hand over his mouth and nose to quiet his breathing as he shifts towards Thanos and his throne.
"I have never done well," Loki's illusion hisses, voice laced with venom, "why do you not just kill me? What is one more life among the others you have taken?"
"Freed." Thanos corrects, his attention is focused on the illusion. The stretching of the magic is making his entire spine ache. He can hear his mother's voice in his head, reprimanding him as a young child, "Loki, you have to replace the energy you use or your going to get sick." Loki had kvetched about it for a few long minutes after she'd stated it.
He thinks he understands her meaning now.
He's heard stories of sorcerers who have poisoned their blood from not eating enough and using the energy to swiftly.
He's going to be sick.
Thor, he reminds himself. Asgard. The Avengers.
"They are no longer held captive to suffer as others anymore. One day you will understand, Little King."
Loki's illusion huffs, "I do not believe myself capable."
Thanos's hums, leaning back in the chair, "I do. It is why I allow you the opportunity to see such goals put into motion. You possess great skills that you make light of; I do not disregard them as Asgard did."
Instead he uses it for slaughter.
Thor's blood is on his hands, the gaping horror of realization of what he did is starting to hit. He killed Thor, he killed Thor, he killed—
Loki has reached the final steps. He needs to be swift. He has to get ahold of the Soul Stone. Has to free them—
Loki jerks forward releasing his invisibility spell and the illusion to focus on his task and slams his hands around the Gauntlet working sorcery through it. Bending the molecules, folding the matter and warping it into something else.
He is so close, the metal is changing slowly into stone and—
Surprise and dread slice through him as the hand jerks out and wraps around his throat, squeezing. Loki gasps, fingers grabbing onto the hand as it squeezes harder.
He is going to die.
He failed.
He is going to die.
He is going to die.
He is going to die!
Thanos rises from the throne, his expression twitching with something close to pity and sadness. He lifts Loki from his feet and the strain of pressure on his neck makes his airways close faster.
He is going to die.
"Little King," Thanos sighs, "you were doing so well. You know better than to try and steal from me."
He is going to die.
Loki chokes and grasps his fingers around the Gauntlet. If he is to die, then he will die in honor. He cannot focus, everything is blurry...why is the…he cannot...was he…?
A desperate surge of power slices through him, cutting through his abdomen like a knife and searing through his fingers so quickly it burns the edges of them. He feels the Gauntlet crumble beneath his fingers and a pulsing blast rips him from Thanos's grip and he slams into an opposing wall, blinded from the flash.
His vision blurs and his head sags.
Breathing is impossible.
He is slipping away.
He is dying.
Or maybe he's already dead.
000o000
"Loki?" Frigga's voice is soft, gentle and calm. "I need you to wake up now."
Loki gently tugs his heavy eyelids apart, and squints at the bright light. Is he dead? He can't be dead! He didn't get the Soul Stone, he didn't free anyone. He told them he would.
"Hey, hey," Frigga says quietly and Loki stills as he feels her fingers gently move through his hair. He has not felt touch like this since before he was stabbed in Svartalfheim. "You're alright."
Loki lifts his head and turns to see Frigga standing behind him, her face tinged with sadness. Odin is beside her, with both his eyes, looking younger and calmer than Loki ever remembers seeing him. Beyond them, Loki can vaguely see the outline of a young dark haired woman.
"You have done well, my son." Odin says and leans forward to give his shoulder a squeeze. Loki's breath catches and he stares at his parents.
He's dead.
He must be.
There is no other reason why they would—
"Where is Thor?" Loki chokes out, he cannot see his sibling anywhere, but if he is dead than Thor is supposed to be here.
Frigga gently runs a hand through his hair again, "He is waiting for you. Loki, you need to go back."
He doesn't want to go back. It is peaceful here. It is calm. Thanos does not exist.
"I don't want to, Amma." Loki admits and Frigga's arms wrap around him. Her touch doesn't feel reachable, almost as if it's a breeze gently blowing past him.
"I know, sweetheart," she whispers, "but you can't stay here."
Loki squeezes his eyes shut, "How do I go back?"
"You never left."
000o000
Loki's eyes peel open with a gasp and he jerks his head forward the bright light of the Gauntlet exploding echoing in his ears like a song from a sorrowed bird. The Soul Stone, Loki recalls distantly, he has to get the—
He scrambles to his feet, his aching feet and searches with sorcery for the Stone before it can scatter across the Realms and claims it. The yellow stone appears in his hand and Loki has barely enough time to whisper to the stone to release it's prisoners, using himself as a conductor of all the Stone's power and lift a shield up.
The Stones scatter, vanishing violently to get as far away from their brethren as possible. The Gauntlet's changed pieces to rock crumble to the floor and Loki's breath escapes him raggedly as he stares at Thanos's crumpled form across the room from him.
He did not have the Gauntlet, but he channeled the energy through himself, and now he can feel his insides collapsing at the strain.
He has won.
Thanos has lost.
For years he existed in hopelessness, but now he is free.
He presses his hands against his chest where the ache remains the most and staggers towards Thanos's slowly rousing form, grabbing a dagger from his collapsing magic supplies. It's long and from the first and last set Thor ever gave him.
Loki's dagger killed Thor and now Thor's shall kill Thanos.
Loki stumbles towards the Titan, pain leaking off of him and raises the weapon up. Thanos's eyes peel apart with confusion before they meet Loki's and rage takes its place. "What did you do—?" he demands in outrage.
Loki's lips twist into a deranged smile. "Avenged."
Thanos hisses, "You are no a hero."
Loki flips to an icepick grip, "I am not," he agrees, "but I could not protect; so I will avenge." Without any hesitation, Loki slams a foot down on Thanos's chest and slits his throat.
000o000
The souls return.
000o000
The Time Stone appears with Dr. Stephen Strange, but it does not remain with him for long.
000o000
Loki returns to the Statemen's remains.
000o000
The sun finally shines on them once more.