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It was dark, around him. His cell was lit a blinding white, but his eyes only saw darkness. Maybe it was a wicked play of his mind, reminiscent of that night, this moment on the rainbow bridge where it was only him, Thor, and the void.
Damn Thor. Brilliant, golden, perfect Thor. It was only him and glory, the moon clashing against the sun, the ice combating fire, the evil against the hero.
You are a monster.
He only ever wanted to prove them wrong.
The people, the voices, yourself?
It should never have ended this way. It all seemed so far away now, so surreal, so childish.
All of this because Loki desired a throne.
Everything happened so fast too. One second Thor crashed his hammer on the already weakened Bifrost, the next they were both sent barrelling away into the sky above. He remembered thinking he would miss the bridge and spiral into the endless beneath, never to wake again. Only a hand caught his ankle before he could begin his descent.
Everything was a flash.
He saw Thor just below him, falling, falling so very fast, and his hand brushed his but failed to get a grip and then he felt nothing. He registered no sound.
“Thor!”
No touch.
The tightening of the grip on his ankle.
No sight.
The look on his brother’s face as he fell away from him, hand outstretched and eyes wide.
He was still not himself when he was sent tumbling back onto the bridge. He barely felt the slap across his face, the sound of his father screaming at him, the way he was grabbed by the shoulders and shook in rage. His eyes were blind and unfocused, watching, unseeing, the void which he just lost his brother to.
You killed him.
You are a monster.
He was alone now. As he always was since that night, after guards came crashing onto him to send him away. He felt like barely a night had gone by.
A year? A decade? A century?
Tears were streaming down his face as they often were. It was a wonder there were still any left at all.
Sentiment.
You are a monster.
His mother was here, on the other side of the orange glass.
She is not your mother any longer. She never was.
He did not look up to her, he never did. He did not want to know what he would see on her face.
Rage. Disappointment. Hate. Sorrow.
Her once loving, soft features were lost to him. He barely remembered what she looked like, and still he didn’t look up. She didn’t talk. She once did, but she surely had grown tired of him not answering to her. She stood there for a long time, and again, he only stared vacantly at the floor for the entirety of it.
He heard her sniff, at one point, and vaguely wondered if she might be crying for him.
You killed her son.
You are a monster.
He screamed when she left. He had nothing left to break but he tried anyway. And he screamed until his barely-used voice gave out. Until his body collapsed to the ground once more and was overtook by his sobs.
You do not get to grieve the Brother you killed.
You do not get to grieve, he once repeated himself like a mantra, but his heart was constricting around itself, his breathing was barely coming in and out of his abused lungs, and his meagre body was hurting like every bone within it had been broken and repaired, only to be crushed again.
Just this once, he told himself, he would allow himself to think about his now forever lost Brother.
All of this because Loki desired a friend.
His mother was here again when he next came to himself. Only she wasn’t blurred out by the orange screen, this time. She was there, with him, in the cell. He only saw the hem of her dress, from where he was laying on the ground. Dried tears stinged his cheeks, and his throat was raw. The rest he wasn’t sure he could feel, nor see.
She retreated what felt like a minute or two after his awaking, and he tried not to acknowledge the twinge of hurt he felt about it.
You do not deserve this kindness.
He did not see her look back to him with tears in her eyes. Did not notice the sorrowful but resigned expression she wore.
He also only became aware that the cell was left open a long while after she had gone.
And why would she have done this?
You do not deserve to be let out.
You are a monster.
He knew this was no mistake. He liked to believe he knew his mother still. She would never forget something as important as this. She was smart. Way smarter that he could ever pretend to be. She had a reason for everything she did and maybe…
Maybe she had one now.
You are the monster.
He stood on shaky legs. They could barely hold him, but step after step, they took him to where he wanted to be. His mind vaguely registered the fact that now one stopped him as he exited the dungeons and made his way to the broken Bridge.
Breathing in, then out. Taking a step after the other. Approaching the place where it all began.
Ended.
Soon enough, he stood on the edge of the bridge and took a moment to really see, for the first time in what really was twenty-two years. He saw the stars, the light emitting from them, everlasting and mesmerizing. The deep swirls of purples and blues that were painting the sky that he once knew and loved. He felt the wind in his hair, and the cold on his skin. It never bothered him, and he now knew why.
You are a monster.
He decided to like it that night.
It was silent, almost reverent, and he was grateful for it.
There was no one else but him, and the Void.
Here, on the broken Bridge that bound his life to his death, he felt at peace for the first time. And he smiled.
He also took one last step, only his foot didn’t touch ground.
And as he was swept away by the darkness below, he dared to hope that the light would at least welcome him long enough to shine on them both one last time.