Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Upon death, the soul left the body as they all do. It was supposed to go somewhere, like the millions of other souls that parted from their bodies that day. Instead this soul stayed still.

It was a selfish, resentful, envious, manipulative and liar soul. The soul of a villain doomed to eternal punishment and agony. Yet… that soul was already suffering.

After a while, the memories of the person whose it belong began to fade away along with every other knowledge of the life it left behind. All that was left were its feelings. Anger first, but that too gave away to despair.

As this soul remained in the abyss of nonbeing, its rage and desperation ran out, replaced by fear, shame, regret…

Sadness.

The soul became barely a lingering sentiment. Trapped in the deepest darkness, alone, scared and confused, just waiting to cease to exist.

Then, something happened. A body was being created from nothingness. Flesh, blood and skin covered the body's hands, feet, legs, arms, torso, head…

The lonely soul was slowly drawn into this body and was pulled towards it. Thus, a new being was created out of the ancient soul.

The new person floated in the void briefly before it was sent back to the land of the living.

Paris didn't resemble the beautiful City of Lights that most people remembered. That fateful afternoon, Paris looked grey, cold and discouraging like a shattered heart.

The storm caught most people out of guard, specially the tourists who had made so many plans, with a lot to see and so little time. Even the huge thunderstorm didn't prevent some of these men and women to enjoy themselves around the city, seeking shelter on the stores, cafés and even the famous Eiffel Tower. Some of them even accepted to go on a boat ride on the Seine.

The skies roared so loud that some children grabbed to their parents in fear. Even the adults felt wary. This was one of the most terrifying storms they've seen, like something out of a horror movie.

At the same time a thunder lighted up the sky, something fell right into river with a massive bang.

People ran to the bridge and anywhere near the Seine so they could see what had caused such a blast. As the waters became soother, a young German tourist started to yell, pointing to the river in panic.

There was someone on the waters, waving arms and legs desperately to try to stay afloat. However, the strength of the river was too much and the person was pulled down the river.

"Somebody help him!" a woman cried. "He's going to drown!"

People continued screaming, terrified by the person's attempts to survive but no one dared to jump into to river and suffer the same fate. Fortunately the firemen arrived quickly along with an ambulance and some of them managed to get to where he was.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't fight the torrent. His arms and legs were getting too tired and his mouth kept filling with water, making him cough.

"I see him!" the fireman said before jumping into the freezing waters. "Keep swimming! I'll be right there!"

He tried to keep swimming but he was pulled underwater. His mouth opened in a silent scream and his lungs filled with water, as his body finally decided to give up fighting.

A strong arm grabbed him by his right hand and abdomen and he was pulled to the surface. Coughing violently, he was pulled into the small boat and covered with a grey blanket.

Many voices talked to him while they brought him back to the shore, but he was too confused to understand any of them. He felt hands grab, rub and pull him from all sides, in a scary mix of blurry, unknown faces and blinking white, blue and red lights.

People were talking to him, asking things over and over while dragging his trembling legs. He tried to understand them, but it were too many voices, too many faces and too many gazes. He couldn't answer them, so he did the only thing his instincts told him. He screamed.

He screamed to make the voices stop and tried to run away from them. Yet, it was like he wasn't used to his own legs and he fell on the concrete floor, skinning his knees and hands.

His eyes grew wide with terror and panic when the now silent people approached him. Still covered with his grey blanket, he pulled his legs to his chest into a fetal position. He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, hoping to make everyone disappear if he couldn't see them.

A man waved to everyone else to stand back and carefully approached him.

"It's okay" he said softly. "Everything is going to be okay. You're safe now, boy."

Hesitantly, he took his hands of his face to stare at the man with the gentle voice, revealing his bright green eyes and his still round face. The face of a scared child in the brink of puberty.

"What's your name, son?" the kind man asked.

The boy opened his mouth but… no sound came out. He didn't know the answer.

"It's okay now. You can trust me" the man persisted. "Please tell me your name?"

His lips began to tremble and he pulled the blanket closer to his small and thin body. He didn't know his name. He tried to remember it but he couldn't. He didn't know who he was, his mind was completely blank.

Actually, he didn't remember anything.

"Son? Can you tell me your name?"

The child couldn't hold on any longer. He looked at the nice man and shook his head before bursting into tears, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed in distress.

Aside from the boy's whimpers, only thunder could be heard. The heavy rain also continued to fall, like tears from a saddened God.

Chapter Text

New Mexico, EUA

Jane Foster was almost asleep so she got up and drank her third cup of coffee. Darcy, her young and bothersome assistant, should be studying the monitors focused on the possible strange weather event on South Africa. Instead, the girl was listening to her iPod, completely oblivious about her surroundings.

"You were supposed to be working" Jane said, taking Darcy's headphones from her hears.

"Hey! That was the best part of the song!" the young assistant groaned. "Besides, nothing is happening!"

"Something could happen" Jane answered back, sitting on her chair. "We're here to find another space-time anomalies. That's why we're paid."

"No… We're paid to sit on our asses, stare at a bunch of monitors all day and then report that absolutely nothing happened. Face it Jane, nothing will happen!"

Jane shook her head and focused her brown eyes on the monitor. "You don't know that. Someday there will be another portal open to the other worlds and I'll find it."

Darcy's expression softened. "You're still thinking about him… Thor."

Hearing his name, Jane blushed slightly. "He promised he would come back."

"Well… he did come back" Darcy said, careful about the sensitive subject. "He came back and he saved the world along with Stark and the others, still… he could have found a little time on his agenda to visit us, right?"

"Saving the world is a bit more important than greeting old friends, don't you think?" Jane said, though she had been the one who was most disappointed when Thor didn't come to see her after the battle.

It was always like this, she assumed. This was what was like to have feelings for someone whose destiny is bigger than our own. It was complicated but she knew that, somehow, they would see each other again. And this time, there would be no monsters or evil brothers to keep them apart. Finally, Thor's brother was dead and couldn't hurt him anymore.

Jane, like the rest of SHIELD and, she guessed, Asgard, was glad and relieved that Loki had definitely died along with his plans of world domination and attempts to kill Thor. But, knowing the blond God, she also knew he wasn't so happy about it.

Despite everything, Loki was Thor's little brother. Losing a family member was always hard, even if said member was a total egomaniacal bastard.

Suddenly, all of her computers started beeping at the same time.

"Wow! What's happening? Jane!" Darcy yelled, looking at the blinking monitors.

"Could it be…?" Jane muttered, pressing several buttons at the same time. "It's a space-time anomaly! It's happening right now! Darcy, go to your computer right now! Help me trace it!"

"O-Okay…"

They worked hard to find where a portal had been opened, however, it only took a few seconds and everything went normal again.

"It closed. Jane! What now?"

"Keep looking! I've narrowed down to the North Hemisphere" Jane said, focusing on find the now closed portal. "It was just like last time… with Thor. It was a portal from another dimension!"

"It… it says the anomaly happened in Europe" Darcy said, looking at three computers at the same time. "Jesus Christ! I can't find exactly where!"

"Keep looking!" Jane yelled. There was a chance, even if small, that the Thunder God had finally returned.

Paris, France

The adults had made him so many questions that his head was hurting. Who was he? What was his name? Where did he come from? Why was he in the river? Who were his parents? Those were all questions to which he had no answer, much to his frustration and the men dressed in blue that had questioned him.

"The police. They're called the police" he recalled one of them saying, even though he had no idea what "the police" was.

After that, another group of grownups dressed in white coats checked his body, took his blood and made all sorts of strange tests before telling him what he already knew all along, he was perfectly healthy, at least physically. Mentally, he was a mess.

"Why can't I remember anything?" he asked to no one in specific. "What happened to me?"

"We don't know yet, sweetie" a kind faced middle aged woman answered, while bringing him to his room. "The doctors are trying to find out why so we can know how to help you."

He sat at a chair with wheels and taken to the Pediatric ward. Despite the colorful drawings on the walls he felt uneasy as he got the infirmary and saw all the other children and their visiting parents. When he got to his private room, he realized there was no one there to visit him.

That comprehension made his heart ache.

"When will my memories come back?" he asked the nice lady.

"I don't know that either. I think no one knows. Sometimes, memories come back in a few hours or days. Some people, however, can take months or even years to remember. While others… well… there is a chance they'll never come back."

The boy's green eyes widened with fear. "Never? You mean… I'll never know who I am?"

"Don't worry. You're making new memories just fine, which means there's nothing wrong with your head" she said softly. "I'm sure you'll remember someday, you just need to be patient. These things take time. Meanwhile, don't you worry. We'll look after you."

The lady seemed so nice that the boy felt reassured and nodded with a small smile.

"Well… let's get you into bed, ok?" she said.

"Hmm… actually… Can I ask for something?" he said shyly.

"Sure, honey. What is it?"

"Can I see… my face?"

The nurse smiled and nodded. The boy got up from his wheelchair and walked leaning to her towards the bathroom. After the nurse turned on the lights, he slowly walked alone to the mirror.

In the reflection, he saw a short, raven haired boy, with his green eyes wide open with awe.

"So? Can you remember anything?" the nurse asked.

Carefully, he touched his face and watched the boy in the mirror do the same. He thought that he would recognize himself, but the boy in the mirror was a complete stranger. He still couldn't remember anything about himself. Not even his name.

Seeing that his eyes were brimming with tears, the nurse walked towards the child and grabbed him by his thin shoulders. "You should rest, ok? It's been a long day."

The boy nodded and got into his bed, letting the nurse tuck his sheets and blanket. Still, a lonely tear ran down his cheek and he chocked a sob.

"Don't be sad. Everything will be okay" she said with a motherly smile, stroking his black hair. "You're safe here and everyone is doing what they can to help you. The police are already trying to find out who you are so they can call your parents."

The boy locked up, visibly surprised. "My… parents?"

"Of course. They must be worried sick about you right now."

"So… are they out there?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with hope. "Are they looking for me?"

"I'm sure they are. Be patient, they're going to find you and take you home. So stay here and rest."

The boy nodded and the nurse left his room. He felt a lot better now, even though he still couldn't remember a thing. Outside, he heard the voices of the other children and their parents along with the sound of the pouring rain.

"They're coming for me" he thought, falling asleep with a smile. "My parents are going to come."

There was no need to be scared. His parents were looking for him; all he had to do was wait. Then he could go home with them and be with his family. He would never be alone again.

So he waited and a whole month went by, but no one came.

Chapter Text

Asgard

Young Thor ran down the corridors towards the castle's garden. He usually felt lively and filled with energy, like there were thunders inside of him, but today he was gleaming.

It had all started when he sneaked into the Chamber of Banquets where a group of warriors had just started their feast with laughter, songs and stories about their adventures. Normally, children weren't allowed in such festivity, but as soon as the warriors found it was Thor they immediately accepted his presence and included him in their midst.

The blond boy listened with wonder their stories and songs, daydreaming about their fights and wishing that he had been there. He was a warrior; he had known it ever since he could remember. He belonged in the battlefield like those heroic men, like his father.

Someday everyone would be singing about his feats and his adventures would be remembered forever.

Excited, Thor had gone fetch his wooden sword. Unfortunately, none of his friends could train with him at the moment. Even the guards were busy. He didn't have another choice but to ask his brother to spar with him.

Like he expected, Thor found Loki sitting in the castle's library, his green eyes focused on some tiresome old book.

"Brother! I've been looking for you" Thor said.

Loki looked up at his older brother slightly annoyed that he had been interrupted. Seriously! What was so interesting about books anyway?

"What is it?"

"I wish to spar. So I've come to ask you to train with me."

Loki looked at Thor's sword with both exasperation and fear. Not once he had been able to defeat his brother. He wasn't a born swordsman like Thor was. Not that he was a complete failure; he just couldn't fight so straightforwardly like his brother or his friends, or even Odin and the other warriors. No matter how hard he tried, he could never measure up.

"I don't feel like it, Thor" the raven boy answered.

"Oh, come on! Why do you keep reading those old books? You think they'll be useful when a Frost Giant tries to rip your head off?"

Loki trembled at the mentioning of the Frost Giants. Every child in Asgard had heard the horrible stories about those flesh eating monsters. Thor had felt particularly proud when he realized that he wasn't even scared about them, quite the contrary, he wanted to fight them just like his father had once done. Loki, on the other hand, was still terrified by the stories and had timidly asked their father if they still lived.

Honestly! How could Loki be such a coward? He was supposed to be an Odinson, therefore he needed to be fearless. There had been hundreds of times when Thor wished Loki could change and be more like him, his friends and the other Asgardians. Instead, his little brother was small, thin and bookish.

Though Thor had to admit, Loki was smarter than anyone he knew. When they went hunting, Loki had always managed to defend himself using traps or tricking his enemy. Same thing during the spars. Yet, that wasn't a warrior's way of fighting!

"Why don't you ask your friends to spar with you?" Loki asked, his head buried in his book once more.

Thor pouted. "I've asked! They're all busy now, that's why I'm asking you."

Loki's shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly.

"So… I'm your last choice…" the raven said quietly, his mouth muffled by the old book.

"Huh? I didn't hear you. What did you say?" Thor asked.

"I said that if you asked nicely, your friends wouldn't refuse" Loki lied. "They adore you. You don't need me."

"I've told you, they're busy" the older brother said. "Why don't you come with me and ask them? You're very skilled with the words."

"They won't listen to me" Loki replied carefully hiding his face. "They don't like me."

"What are you talking about, brother? Of course they like you. They are our friends!"

"Your friends, Thor" the younger boy said, glaring at his sibling. "They only let me play when you're around. When you're not, they make excuses and don't let me play with them. When they think I can't hear them, they call me the puny prince."

Thor blinked, surprised by his brother's words. He couldn't imagine his friends saying those things to Loki. If Thor had witnessed that, he would punch them for insulting his little brother, but he couldn't believe it. Loki could be very annoying and mischievous when things didn't go his way and it wasn't the first time he lied to get out of a problem. He was probably making this up.

"Don't be ridiculous, Loki! They would never do something like that, so stop lying!" Thor hissed. "Don't insult them! They are good and noble friends and I won't let you offend them, brother!"

Loki's green eyes went from distress to bitter anger. "You're right, I was out of line" the raven boy said coldly. "Forgive my cruel words, brother. It won't happen again."

"Good" Thor replied. He hated when Loki used that fake courtesy, he felt that he wasn't apologizing at all. He didn't want to have to choose between his friends and his brother. "You know… maybe if you trained a little harder, they would like you more."

"Train harder?" Loki asked in disbelief. "I train as much as you!"

"But you hate it, I know! Everybody knows!" Thor said, as his brother's eyes widened. "You don't act like a warrior; you look like a weakly scholar. Why must you be so different? Maybe if you were more like us, they would be fond of you. It's your fault that you don't fit in!"

Thor realized that he had gone too far when it was too late. Loki's green eyes were filled with sadness and he looked down, his hands grasping the book harder.

"Loki… Brother, I'm sorry… I didn't mean…" Thor tried to apologize, but he couldn't find the right words. He had never meant to hurt Loki. No matter how different he was from everybody else, Thor loved him and he couldn't imagine his life without his little brother.

Suddenly, Loki got up from his chair, grabbed his book and left the library. Still troubled, Thor followed him. He didn't want Loki to be mad at him. They were brothers and Thor was the eldest. He shouldn't be the mature one and protect Loki, not upset and insult him.

"Loki, wait!" Thor said, reaching the sullen raven. "I said I was sorry. I really am. I shouldn't have said that."

Still silent, Loki turned and they walked into one of the castle's gardens, where he sat in one of the benches.

"Brother… I am…" Thor said.

"I'm not weak!" Loki cried out.

"Huh?"

The younger boy stared at Thor in the eye. For the first time, he looked fierce and ready for battle.

"I'm not weak, Thor. I'm not a skilled warrior like you, but I'm not weak" Loki said, unwavering. "I'll find strength my own way! I'll prove to you, to father and everyone what I can do! I'm going to become so big and powerful that everyone will be forced to acknowledge me!"

Thor was amazed by his brother's statements but he nodded. "Of course you are, Loki. You're an Odinson. You're going to be very strong, I never thought you wouldn't."

Seeing that his older brother believed in him made Loki smile and he opened the book. "You know, Thor? I think I've found something I'm good at."

"Really? What?" the blond boy asked, now visibly curious.

Loki stretched his right hand and closed his eyes, his lips mumbling some strange words. Before Thor could ask him what he was doing, a ball of fire appeared on his brother's palm.

"Whoa! Is that… magic?" the blond asked, dumbfounded. "How did you do it?"

"I taught myself after reading these books" Loki answered with a smile. "Look! I can make it change color!" the flame became bright blue and then green.

"That's… impressive" Thor admitted, with a bit of jealousy.

"It's very easy and I'm trying to make it bigger" the younger boy went on cheerfully. "I've asked father to teach me more about it. He's busy now with a meeting but he said that he'll come later and help me master it."

"So… you want to be a sorcerer?" Thor asked.

"Yes. I'm good at it and I can be very powerful!"

"Are you mad?" Thor exclaimed, surprising Loki. "A sorcerer? We're sons of Odin, the All-father! We're meant to be warriors like our ancestors before us. An Asgardian warrior fights with his body and sword, not using tricks and magic like some feeble witch."

Loki was surprised but he quickly got over it. "Shut up! You don't know anything! Magic is as good as a sword! Father uses magic too!" he yelled angrily.

"It's different. Father rarely uses his magic, he's a warrior" Thor claimed. "There's no honor using low tricks and sorcery to defeat an opponent."

"You're wrong!" Loki yelled back. "As long as you win, what's the matter if you use magic?"

"It's dishonorable!"

"Take it back!"

"No! It's the truth, Loki!"

"No, it's not! You're just angry because I can do it and you can't, Thor!"

"What? Why would I be angry?"

"Because you're too stupid to learn it" Loki mocked. "You only fight with your hands because you have no brain!"

Without even thinking, the hotheaded blond punched the younger boy in the face. Loki spat blood to the floor and threw himself against Thor, also blinded by his own anger and frustration.

The two boys fought with all they had, punching, kicking and even biting each other. But Thor was obviously in advantage. He was bigger, stronger and more skilled in hand to hand combat. Effortlessly, Odin's firstborn grabbed his younger brother by his arm and threw him to the ground before immobilizing him with his hands behind his back.

"I win, brother" Thor said, with a smirk of triumph. "Now… say I was right!"

Loki remained stubbornly silent.

"Say it, Loki! Say that I was right!" Thor demanded.

"Over my dead body" the raven answered with a glare.

"You little…" Thor yelled.

"What is going on in here?" a deep voice echoed through the garden.

Both boys looked up and Thor let go of Loki, who fell hard into the ground. No other than Odin himself, along with his guests from Vanaheim, approached them with a serious expression.

"Must I ask again why my two sons were fighting against one another?" Odin asked.

Loki got up, his cheeks flushed with shame, and stood beside Thor.

"We were just sparring, father" Thor said.

"I see" the All-Father said, staring at Thor and Loki's bruises and scratches. "Brothers should never fight. You share a unique bond and you should treasure it."

"Yes, father" both boys said in unison.

After staring into his sons' eyes for a while, Odin's expression softened and he smiled. "So… who won this "spar" of yours?"

"I did, father" Thor claimed proudly, while Loki lowered his gaze.

The Vanahein guests approached them in order to take a good look at Odin's firstborn.

"So you are the great Thor" one of them said, smiling at the blond boy. "Your father did not exaggerate when he spoke so highly of you. Your skills are remarkable for someone so young."

"You are too kind, sir" the blond answered with a confident smile.

"We are much honored to meet the young Thor" said a beautiful lady. "You truly are your father's son. I can see he has inherited both your strength and honor, All-Father."

Odin looked at his firstborn with undeniable pride and love. "He is a fine boy, my friends. One who will only grow greater as a great warrior."

Thor seemed to glow with delight at his father's and their guest praise. On the other hand, Loki stood still behind his older brother, overshadowed by his greatness once again.

"Why not show our guests how we truly fight in Asgard, Thor?" Odin said, surprising both boys in very different ways.

"You wish to spar with me, father?" Thor asked.

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure" Odin said. "Come! Let us start."

Thor followed his father and their guests to the middle of the garden. However, only one person didn't seem happy. Loki still remained in the same place, his green eyes still waiting for his father's recognition that he was there as well.

"Father? You said you were going to teach me" the younger boy said timidly. "You promised…"

But Odin was distracted, talking to both his guests and Thor, thus he didn't spare Loki a second glance.

While Thor sparred happily and proudly with his father, hearing the people's cheers and praises, Loki sat in a stone bench, watching his father and brother enjoying themselves without him. Whereas Thor felt great, strong and confident, Loki felt small, insignificant and invisible after being casted aside again.

When the spar ended, Odin went to Thor and placed a warm hand on his shoulder, saying how proud he was of him while the others agreed. Thor was grinning at all of them when he finally saw his little brother picking up his book and walking away towards the castle.

"That's right! Father, Loki wishes to show you something" Thor said, but the All-Father continued to talk to his guests. "Father! Loki wants to talk to you."

Strangely, the All-Father continued talking and laughing, like he didn't hear Thor.

"Father!" Thor cried out, glancing at Loki who continued to walk towards the door.

Suddenly, the door to the castle morphed in front of Thor's eyes and it turned in some devilish gate, dark and red lightning coming from it. Yet, Loki still walked towards it.

"Loki!" Thor yelled, pushing the people from Vanaheim away and running towards his brother. "Loki, stop!"

Loki continued walking, not even scared about the dark gate, just resigned. Thor ran with all his might but the ground opened before him, separating him from his little brother.

"Brother, come back!" the blond yelled. "It's not too late!"

Loki turned around and faced Thor, his expression was completely blank. All Thor knew was that he needed to stop him before he went down into that path of self-destruction.

Loki stared back at Thor and then at Odin and the rest of the Asgardians behind him. His haunted eyes gazed on their happiness, on how they seemed to radiate light and energy while he continuously felt tossed aside into the dark. He didn't belong there with them, he never did. He didn't belong anywhere.

"Loki, please… Come back to us" Thor pleaded, his voice cracking. "Come home."

The raven stared at Thor once more. They were both adults now and Thor stretched his hand in the Tricksters direction. However, Loki only gave him a sad laugh.

"I don't have it" he said, turning around and being swallowed by the darkness.

Thor woke up yelling and with Mjolnir already in his hand. He looked around and realized that he was in his chambers. Outside the sun had already risen.

"Another dream" the Thunder God said, cleaning his sweat from his forehead.

After calming himself, Thor got out of the bed, got dressed and left his bedroom. His body already knew where he was heading before his brain did.

The Hall of Trials, where Loki had died.

Nearly four years ago, Thor had brought his deceitful brother to Asgard. With an icy rage like he had never seen it, Odin ordered to imprison Loki until the day of his trial. There, he would have no visitors and would never be allowed to leave his cell.

At the time, Thor had been too angry and disappointed with the God of Mischief. Like Odin had ordered, he didn't try to visit the monster his brother has become. His brother was gone and this murdereous stranger had to pay for his crimes and villainy. Therefore, Loki was locked up in a glass prison, stripped from his powers, disinherited by his adopted family and loathed by the nine realms. The guards reported that he didn't eat, he barely slept and never spoke. 

Thor was the one assigned to bring Loki to the trial and, in one last attempt to find his little brother inside this heartless man, he tried to get some answers from him in vain. The Trickster didn't say a word; his eyes looked dull and apathetic, like he had no soul left in his body. Even during the trial, while Odin read his crimes and all of Asgard hooted and insulted him continuously, the God of Mischief remained aloof.

Before Odin could sentence him, Loki's body started to shine. There was a huge amount of energy condensing into a single spot in his body, strong enough to kill a God.

Believing that Loki was about to attack, Odin, the Guards, several warriors and Thor ran to him. Yet, Loki wasn't planning to attack them at all. In dismay, Thor realized that all that energy was focused on his brother's body, which started to disintegrate. Loki was going to kill himself.

Thor tried to stop him, but it was already too late. Only a few meters away from Loki, they both exchanged a final look. A single tear ran down Loki's face, before he burst into a blast of energy and his body was destroyed, leaving only a crater on the floor.

They had thought it was a trick and had tried to find the Lie-smith, but Heimdall and Odin quickly confirmed what Thor had refused to believe.

Loki was dead. His brother was really dead this time. There was no turning back, no way to make things better… Loki was gone forever. Thor would never see him again.

His parents and his friends had tried to make Thor feel better and the Thunder God came to accept his brother's fate. He had gone into adventures with the Warriors of Three many times and he had saved Asgard about five times from some kind of beast or enemy. For a long time, Thor thought he had moved on and got over his brother's death.

However, a month ago, Odin had decided that it was time to remove all that had once belonged to Loki from Asgard, leaving Thor enraged. His brother didn't even have the right to a proper funeral and now his father was just going to erase his existence from their memories like he never existed?

Despite his protests, Thor couldn't do anything and his brother's belongings were destroyed. That had been when his nightmares had started. Seeing no trace of Loki in Asgard, only made Thor think about him even more. Everywhere he went he was reminded of his little brother and their happy memories as children.

Thor missed the child his brother had been. He missed him so much that he expected to find him running around the castle or reading a book in the library, becoming increasingly saddened when he remembered how things had end up.

Now, staring at the exact place where Loki had died, knowing that he was, most likely the only person who mourned him, made the Thunder God's heart ache.

He only wished there was a way to make things right and save his little brother. Nevertheless, not even the Gods could change the past, no matter how much they wanted to.

Paris, France

The young raven boy was fully dressed when the social worker knocked on his door. His clothes had been a gift from the doctors and nurses who had tried to help him over the last month.

"Can I come in?" she asked politely.

"Yes" he said, staring at the young woman in a business suit.

"My name is Marianne" she said, walking towards the small boy sitting on his hospital bed. "Did someone tell why I'm here?"

The boy nodded. "You came to take to another home, because I can't stay in the hospital anymore."

"That's right" Marianne said with a kind smile. "Don't look so sad. You're going to be with more children who are just like you."

"I know, but… I was already used to here" he said sadly. "Now I have to leave."

"It's not because they want to throw you out, it just that the hospital is a place for sick people and you're not. Besides, you should be tired of being trapped in here. You're going to see new places and meet new people."

He nodded again, though he still didn't believe what Marianne had said. He had believed in the adults once when they told him that his memories would return and that his parents would come for him. Neither of those became true.

He had learned that grownups lied to kids all the time to make them behave or do what they wanted. That was one of the few things he had learned over the last month.

He learned that he was about ten years old (the doctors told him after seeing him naked, which was embarrassing as hell!), he knew how to read and write, he liked candy, he hated vegetables, he liked to watch everything on TV except those boring shows where they talked about girly stuff, he liked to pull of pranks, he loved magic tricks, he wanted to have a phone, a computer and a video game console, he wasn't very fond of thunderstorms and he was really good at lying…

He had dreams. Horrible dreams that made him wake up screaming in terror.

He knew all that about himself, but he still didn't have a name of his own.

"By the way… I still don't know your name?" Marianne said, as they left his hospital bedroom, which had been his only known refuge.

The boy looked at the morning sun and thought on how his memories seemed to be locked in a dark place in his mind.

Lock… that word sounded right.

"Serrure" the boy said, leaving to his foster home. "My name is Serrure."

Chapter Text

April 1st, Paris (11 months later)

The streets were crammed with tourists. It was easy to distinguish who was an actual Parisian from the sightseers who stared at everything in awe, with their comfortable shoes, backpack, cell phones and cameras ready to record their trip to the legendary city of lights and love.

The memory of the child who had been found on the Seine exactly a year ago was easily forgotten as the world went on with newer and juicier stories to talk about. Little did they know that same boy was now improvising a table with a wooden box and a beautiful green and golden cloth (stolen from an absentminded shopkeeper) and laying three cards on it. Then, he looked at the crowd with his mischievous but lovely smile and decided to start the game.

"Here we go! Here we go! Here we go," Serrure chanted with a charming voice that didn't take him very long to master. "Ladies, ladies, all you lovely, lovely ladies, here we go. Sharp eyes and sharp minds, one and all – it's an old game, I know, but one of the best." He smiled again, still playfully but more innocent this time, melting the hearts of several women. "I hope you all want to play with me."

The three-card-trick was old, but Serrure was perfect for it. His hands were quick as he moved the cards; both his smile and voice oozed so much charm that he immediately created a crowd of amused tourists around him. It didn't hurt that he was cute too. Though he was scrawny and a bit small for his age, the dark haired, emerald green eyed boy was beautiful like a little devil. There was something about him, a certain appeal that made him look like he didn't belong in this world and that attracted maternal women to his games like bees to honey.

More importantly, he had the most important asset of a successful street hustler, a complete lack of conscience.

"No sleeves. Hands full. Full heart. There are no tricks. Here is what I'm saying, ladies" the boy turned over the Jack of spades for all of them to see before moving the cards.

"Oh! Your hands are so fast" a pretty brunette said, trying to follow. "Oh… I think… the middle one…"

Serrure was smiling to himself even before he turned the card, but his face became sad in agreement with the brunette. "No. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you missed, ma'am. Do you wish to try again? You never know when your luck can change."

"Oh… Alright, just another one" she said, giving Serrure one more euro.

"Thank you so much, ma'am. Hard to believe you'd be out alone visiting Paris" the boy said, his voice sweet like candy. "Think you'd have to fight off big handsome blond guys with a stick. Let's see if old Serrure can change your luck. Because, after all, you're all looking for love… old Serrure is looking to get rich."

While the raven haired boy entertained the crowd, he saw Reynard moving. His partner walked leisurely among the tourists, apparently interested in the game, but his thin hands swiftly "liberated" their wallets. The adults were so busy making sure Serrure wasn't cheating that it was quite easy.

At the end of the day, the charming raven bid them all farewell before vanishing into the dark streets to meet up with his partner. Reynard was already waiting for him; it would be too suspicious if the two boys were seen together. The cops could realize their scheme and they knew they were already investigating the mysterious pickpocket that so many tourists were complaining about.

"So? How did it go?" Serrure asked, watching as Reynard's smile grew even wider.

"Twelve juicy ones" the blond twelve year old said. "I swear… they deserve to be robbed! Leaving their wallets in their pockets like that is like asking me to take them."

Serrure nodded and they started to take the money and anything valuable from the wallets. Credit cards were useless to them since they didn't know the PIN, besides their owners would cancel them as soon as they found they had been stolen and, if they did use the cards, the police could trace them and see them with the cameras over the ATM machines.

"They were reckless fools, enchanted by a kid's diversion" the raven said, smiling over his victory over the adults. "We simply used their neglect to our advantage and… Why are you looking at me like that?"

Reynard was staring at his partner with a frown. "You're doing it again."

"What?"

"The talking weird thing!" the other boy cried out. "You look like one those World of Warcraft nerds!"

"Do not!" Serrure yelled back, blushing.

"Yes, you do! No one talks like that in the real world! Did your folks force you read that Shakespeare crap or something?"

Serrure lowered his head. "Y-Yeah… they used to make me read it. I guess it rubbed off on me."

Reynard rolled his eyes. "Man! What a torture! Before I ditched school, my teacher tried to make us like Victor Hugo and Alexandre Dumas' books. Can you believe it? Who would want to read a million pages of some old book?"

"I would" Serrure thought to himself sadly. He knew he could never admit that he loved reading a good book on the local library when they couldn't go out to play their usual scheme.

The boys continued walking until they got to the deserted alley where they had hidden their backpacks. Reynard split the money and gave Serrure his share. The raven carefully hid the cash on a secret compartment on his stolen Quiksilver backpack and threw the wallets into the Seine. After all, they had his fingerprints, which were already on the police database when everybody thought he was a missing child.

"You're not missing when no one is looking for you" Serrure thought, looking at his blurred reflection on the river where he had been found a year ago.

"Hey! Serrure? You're coming or what?" Reynard said.

"Yes, I'm coming" Serrure ran until he reached his partner and they walked into the less glamorous streets of Paris.

"By the way… what was with "big handsome blond guys" part?"

The raven shrugged. "I don't know… I just thought that is the kind of guy they want. Women like manly men, right?"

"I guess… Most of them say they want a sensitive guy, when they really droll all over the muscular ones."

"Right…" Serrure whispered, staring at his thin arms. He definitely couldn't compare to the big blond guys.

"Oh! That's right! Today is April Fool's Day" Reynard cried out. "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks" Serrure said with a grin. "I'm not letting you put a paper fish on my back though!"

Reynard's fox smile widened. "We'll see about that."

"No, I mean it" Serrure said, placing a hand on his friends back. "Check your backpack. The paper you had in there is gone."

"Wha…?" Reynard pulled his backpack and searched for the damn paper but it wasn't there. "How did you…?"

Serrure smirked. "Watch your back, Rey. Isn't that what you always say?"

The older boy touched his back and felt the paper fish tacked on his sweater. "You bastard! How the hell did you do it? I didn't see you take it at all! What are you? A snake?"

Serrure took the paper from Reynard's hand and waved it with a mischievous smile on his face.

"I'm Serrure DuSeine, the Trickster of Paris!" the raven said gleefully to his frowning companion. "Don't you forget it!"

Chapter Text

Hours later, the boys went to a MacDonald's to eat dinner. Eating was a problem for those who lived on the streets. It wasn't just difficult to find food that wasn't all smelly and rotten, even if they had money to pay most restaurants didn't let underage kids eat alone and kept asking stupid questions about their parents. Sometimes, they bought food on the market but, since they didn't have a fridge or a stove, they couldn't cook. They frequently ate fast-food, some fruits, candy and bread.

Serrure ate his hamburger with delight. He usually asked for the less expensive menu but today he felt he deserved a little treat. It was his birthday, or at least the day he decided to make his birthday: the day he had been found on the Seine. He needed those things… a birthday, a name, a surname. He didn't remember his past or his identity, so he decided to create a new one and stop looking for his family. It was painful, but he needed to understand that there wasn't anyone searching for him. He had to toughen up if he wanted to survive.

He had lived on a foster house for two months before running away. He hated every second he spent on that grey and horrible place where he had to share his bedroom with two thugs who liked to pretend that he was their punching bag, tripped him, stole his things and his food and threatened him with a razor knife if he tried to complain to their caretakers. Not they would be of much help either… They hated the scoundrels they had in their care. As far as they were concerned, those kids were all future thieves, killers and rapists, so they treated every single one of them with an iron grip.

Serrure had tried to cling to the hope that his parents would come for him and take him from that hell, but he realized it was just a stupid fantasy. He was just like those boys in the foster care whose parents were either dead, in jail or had simply dump them on the streets like they were a piece of garbage.

The other boys had taunted him mercilessly when he told them that his family was out there. Cruelly, they had opened his eyes to the truth he was trying to deny.

"Don't you get it, dumbass? Your parents got rid of you" they said. "The cops put your face everywhere! Even on TV and the internet! If you were lost, they'd be here by now. The truth is that they don't want you! Probably, they hit your head and threw you into the river so you'd drown and leave them alone."

Their malevolent words took a while to finally sink in but, when they did, Serrure decided that he was done with that place and took off after stealing one of the bullies' razor knife. After a while, he met Reynard and another group of unwanted rascals and he had been with them ever since. However, if everything went accordingly to his plans, Serrure wasn't going to stay much longer.

He had big plans for his future! Sure, he wasn't big and strong like those brutes from the gangs he saw dealing drugs and guns, but he was smart enough to avoid fights and stay alive unlike many of them, who ended up dead in a dark alley because they though with either their fists or their penis.

"I'm full!" Reynard said before burping soundly to shock several old ladies, who frowned and glared at them for making those sounds in front of their innocent grandchildren. "Take that! Bunch of old hags!"

Serrure laughed and the boys left the restaurant running. Reynard had his bonnet to hide his head, while Serrure used the hood of his coat. Where they lived and doing what they did, it wasn't smart to let people know their faces.

The raven followed his partner as he talked about the stupid the brats at MacDonald's. Serrure agreed with him and stared at the kids that were in the playground with a haughty gaze and a sneer, while trying to ignore the lump on his throat. Those kids were just wimpy jerks! Unlike Serrure, they had to do what Mommy and Daddy told them.

He was free to do what he wanted, say what he wanted and be where he wanted! No one told him what to do ever again!

He was going to get rich, buy everything he wanted and travel all around to world. He was going to have a big house and no one was going to kick him out of a store or treat him like trash again. If his parents finally showed up, he'd tell them to screw themselves!

Serrure used his head and he knew he was smarter than most of the drug duds, the problem was they were the ones who had real money. As a result, the young raven had decided to use their arrogance against them when he challenged a group of the Les Barbares gang members to a poker game last week. They had laughed at the small, helpless boy and agreed to let him play, he was betting one hundred euro after all. Much to their dismay, Serrure won.

Obviously they refused to pay him and accused him of cheating. They were right, but that wasn't the point! Serrure had won and he wanted his money. The thugs punched him and threw him into a puddle of mud, promising that if he ever came back again they would cut him open like a fish. Fuming with rage, the black haired pre-teen vowed to get his money back and so, one night, silent as a mouse, he broke into one of their hideouts and stole 5000 euro. That money was now hidden in his precious backpack.

"Hey, Serrure?" Reynard said, stopping and looking up. "Look! Over there, in that three."

Serrure followed his partner's gaze and his green eyes widened in amazement. There was a black bird in the branches… a black bird whose eyes seemed to glow green.

"It's that spooky crow again" Reynard said, feeling a shiver up his spine.

"I think it's a magpie" the other boy said.

"Whatever! It gives me the creeps! It pops out everywhere we go! It's like it's following us!"

Serrure stared deep into the bird's eyes. He knew the magpie wasn't following them. He had seen its black form watching him when he went out alone.

"It's following me" the boy thought. Every time he had gotten into some sort of trouble or something big happened, he had seen the magpie watching attentively. Even though he knew it was stupid, he had come to think of the bird as an omen that something big was going to happen soon.

Sure enough, the bird looked right and Serrure did the same. To his horror, he saw two members of Les Barbares questioning a guy that lived in that neighborhood. They were describing someone, gesturing to show the short height of the boy they were looking for, and the guy nodded. He was telling them that he had seen him there several times.

"Let's go!" Serrure said, pale as a ghost.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Just run… I'll tell you later."

Reynard saw the pure fear on his partner's eyes and they fled into the night. Shortly after, the magpie flew after them.

"You stole money from Les Barbares?" Reynard cried out. "Are you insane?"

Serrure sat in the old rug that he used as a bed. They managed to arrive to their hideout, and old abandoned house, without being seen. After that, the raven had to explain his partner the reason why they had to run.

"I thought they wouldn't know it had been me" Serrure said, his palms sweaty and trembling.

"That doesn't matter! If they suspect you, you're already dead. They don't need to know if you did it" Reynard said. "You heard about the dead girl, right? All she did was turn one of them down and her body was found the next night. She was disemboweled."

Serrure gulped but covered his fear with a confident sneer. "You worry too much, Reynard. All I have to do is to lay low for a few days and they'll forget all about it."

Reynard shook his head, still surprised by Serrure's gullibility. "They never forget and they never forgive, dude. If I were you, I'd consider leaving the city."

The raven lowered his head and Reynard went to his corner to sleep in his smelly mattress, most likely thinking who would make a good partner after Serrure was gone. With no one watching, Serrure lost his bravado and buried his face on his knees. How could he have been so stupid and careless? Why did he have to mess with one of the most ruthless gangs in Paris?

Still shaking, Serrure lay on the rub and hugged himself, suddenly feeling frozen. If the gang found him, they would cut him into pieces and dump his body in an alley for the cops to find. No one would give a damn that he was dead; he'd be one more corpse, one more victim of the gangs' violence. He'd be buried and forgotten. There was no one who would cry if he was gone.

After a while, the black haired boy finally succumbed to sleep and dreamed of death. He saw huge building collapsing and explosions everywhere.

He saw people, so many people, crying and screaming as they burned to death inside those building or being crushed by the debris.

He saw monsters all around him, destroying the city. He was flying in front of them, but he wasn't running… he was leading them.

Serrure opened his eyes and sat, a trembling hand grasping his shirt over his chest. When the nausea came, he quickly ran out of the room and threw up his dinner on the corridor.

"Oh… Oh God…" he whimpered, falling on his knees. "Oh God... I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

The boy couldn't help it as tears fell down his face and he started to sob. He didn't understand why he apologizing, the words just came out of his mouth. He was so tired of those terrible nightmares, so scared… If he had done what he saw in those dreams, he deserved to be cut into pieces by an enraged mob.

"Sorry… Please, I'm so sorry…" he pleaded between his sobs. "Please… make it stop. Make the dreams go away…"

Serrure knew there was no one out there who would listen to his pleas. There wouldn't be a smoothing mother to hold him tight and tell him that it was just a bad dream, nor a father's embrace to make him feel safe and loved.

He wasn't loved, he wasn't wanted. Nobody cared!

He was all alone.

In that dark corridor, alone with his fear and sorrow, the boy let his mask of a though and independent street hustler shatter. He was just a sad, lonely little boy, who wanted to be loved.

His chest hurt. He felt so hideous, so guilty… but he didn't know why. He always felt like this after his nightmares and he couldn't help but wonder if they were his memories.

"No! I'm not like that" he said, holding himself because he knew no one was ever going to. "I'm not a monster… I'm not…"

Then what was he? Who was he? Why wasn't his family trying to find him? Why did they leave him? Why did he feel like a huge failure whenever he thought about them?

He tried to understand what could possibly make him so repulsive that his own family had abandoned him. What was wrong with him? Was it something he had done or said that made them want to get rid of him? If he was taller and stronger would they want him?

Outside, the first sunbeams of dawn illuminated the sky. With a last sob, Serrure cleaned his tears with the back of his hand and looked at the run rising through the houses of Paris. He knew that he needed to run away from the city as soon as he could, but he didn't know how or where he should go.

The flutter of wings caught his attention and the boy looked in awe as the black magpie landed on the window, carrying something in his claws.

Surprised, Serrure walked to the window and opened it, letting the mysterious bird enter the old house and land right in front of him.

"Hello, Mr. Magpie" the black haired boy said, kneeling in front of the bird.

The magpie released the torn piece of newspaper he had bought and flew to Serrure's right shoulder.

"Wow!" the boy exclaimed, feeling the bird's claws on his skin. "You're… you're not a normal bird. Are you, Mr. Magpie?" the bird simply stared at the boy and then looked at the paper. "What's this?"

Serrure picked up the paper and saw that it was the front page of a newspaper. The article was about an ancient stone that had been found on Sweden and was now being studied and currently stored on the Louvre. Apparently, the stone had a mysterious text that wasn't known yet but it carried symbols representing Odin, a God from Norse mythology. Also, the French government was in conflict with an US agency called SHIELD who wanted the stone to be analyzed by their experts, much to the French's indignation.

"What do you want me to do?" Serrure asked the bird. "I don't care about some old stone, Mr. Magpie. There's a bunch of bloodthirsty gangsters planning to play soccer with my head. I'm not overly fond of the idea."

The bird squealed and Serrure looked at the newspaper closer. The Louvre… it was always crowded with people and cops, it would be very difficult for a member of Les Barbares to kill him there. By night, he could always find some hidden spot to sleep.

"I got it! Thanks, Mr. Magpie" Serrure said, while the bird flew from his shoulder and landed by the window.

Quietly, Serrure picked up his belongings and put them on his backpack. He looked sadly at Reynard, who was still sleeping.

"Bye, Rey" the raven said. "Thanks for everything."

When the boy returned to the corridor he saw that the magpie was still waiting for him by the window.

"I'm ready" Serrure said.

The black bird flew out the window and the boy left the old house, putting his hood over his face and running towards the nearest subway station. The black magpie flew, carefully watching him from the sky.

Chapter Text

"I can't believe we're doing this" Jane grumbled.

"You were the one who accepted Stark's offer" Darcy said with an angry frown.

"I accepted because I wanted to see the Relic!" Jane cried out. "I never said I wanted to steal it!"

After months trying to trace where the portal had been opened, Jane reached the heartbreaking conclusion that not only they wouldn't be able to know the exact location but also that it wasn't related to Asgard at all.

Shortly after their discoveries, they received a visit from SHIELD agents and Tony Stark. They were told about the Norse Relic that had been found on Sweden and how they believed that the stone hadn't been written by humans, but by asgardians since the symbols were a perfect match to the language written on Thor's hammer.

Obviously, Jane had felt a jolt of joy and curiosity and accepted to help them study the stone. The problem was that, by the time they had scheduled a meeting with one of the Louvre's curator and several other experts in Paris, they received a call from Stark telling them that the meeting was just a ruse to get them to find out where the Relic had been stored so they could steal it, using a bunch of Stark's gadgets that came through the mail and helped by the infamous Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow.

Since they were working for SHEILD off the records, no one would be able to link the Relic's disappearance with them and Natasha was too good to get noticed or caught. At least that was the plan…

"This is the stupidest plan I've ever heard!" Darcy exclaimed, staring at Natasha, who was sitting by the hotel's widow.

"I agree!" Jane said. "We don't know anything about stealing! We are scientists, not burglars or spies! Why couldn't one of your people do this?"

"Because once they realize the Relic was stolen, the French government and the Interpol will check the background of every person who was interested in the stone" Natasha explained, completely unfazed. "Even if we created a fake scientist background, they would crack it eventually and suspect SHIELD. You have to do it; besides… don't tell me you're not interested on the Relic, Dr. Foster?"

As much as Jane hated to admit, the spy woman was totally right. The Relic could be the answer into learning how to connect Asgard to Earth and her chance to see Thor. It had been four years since they had been together, she missed him.

"Alright, Miss Romanov. We'll get the Relic" Jane finally muttered, ignoring Darcy's angry squeals. "But you better make sure we don't get caught!"

Serrure grabbed his backpack harder as the subway stopped again, his green eyes looking for suspicious people. More precisely, members of Les Barbares with knives and guns ready to wipe him out right there.

When the doors closed, the boy sighed with relief and pulled his hood. He needed to think of a new plan to survive, staying at the Louvre wasn't far enough. He needed to leave Paris; maybe even France, only then he would feel safe. The problem was that leaving the country was too difficult because he was a kid. He couldn't even catch a plane without the permission of an adult guardian.

"Eloi! Give me back my phone!"

Serrure looked to his right and saw a little boy playing with a cell phone while a teenage boy tried to take it. Their resemblance made it quite clear that they were brothers and the man sitting near them was definitely their father.

"I just want to play a little" the younger brother whined. "You never let me play, Jacques."

"That's because you're a brat!"

"Boys, stop it and sit down!" the father said, looking embarrassed by the racket his two children were making. "Give the phone back, Eloi. It's Jacques's phone."

"But he doesn't really want it. He said he wants a new one" Eloi cried out, close to tears.

"I want a new one, but I don't let you play with this one!"

"Why?"

"That's enough you two!" the father pulled the cell phone from Eloi's hands and gave it to Jacques. "Eloi, you can't take your brother's things and Jacques, you're not getting a new phone."

"But Papa!" Jacques moaned. "All my friends have the new one!"

"As long as that one works, I won't give you another phone!"

Jacques pouted and sulked for the rest of the journey, grumbling about how his friends' cell phones looked so much cooler than his. Eloi asked his older brother if he wanted to play with him at home, but Jacques immediately answered that he was going to meet up with his friends and didn't want his annoying kid brother to tag along.

For some reason, Serrure couldn't take his eyes from that family, glaring at Jacques. The guy was a total jerk! If he didn't want the damn phone, then why couldn't his little brother play with it? And why couldn't he take Eloi with him? He wasn't annoying! He visibly adored his older brother and the dickhead kept pushing him aside!

"He cares more about some stupid friends than his own brother!" Serrure thought bitterly, clenching his fists with both anger and a strange feeling of grief. "If it was me, I'd break his accursed cell phone right in front of him. I would destroy all he cared about until he knew how it felt to have nothing. I would teach him not to ignore me! I would…" the boy's eyes widened as tears rolled down his cheeks. He grabbed his green shirt tight over his aching chest. "What… was I thinking?"

Before someone saw him crying, Serrure cleaned his tears with the back of his sleeve and breathed deeply until he felt his heartbeat slowdown. He had no idea why he had felt so upset because of the two brothers. It was as though his head was filled with anger and resentment towards someone, but he couldn't remember who it was, just making him feel confused and empty.

Were these his memories? Or his feelings? If so… what kind of person was he? What happened?

The mechanical voiced announced his stop, so Serrure grabbed his backpack and stood up. He noticed a lot of other people doing the same, including the two brothers and their father. The raven boy moved swiftly behind the two boys, listening to Jacques constant whining about the lousy trip and his brother. The moment the subway stopped and the doors opened, he didn't notice Serrure reaching for his pocket and taking his cell phone.

"I guess you'll be getting your new phone after all, but not before I have some fun with it!" the raven thought, grinning as he disappeared into the crowd.

Hours later, Serrure had bought a bunch of cakes and soda and sat at the bench of the park next to the Louvre. While he ate, he searched over Jacques' phone records and found pretty nasty SMS about several of his classmates, girls and friends. The guy was an arrogant, petty bully! He deserved to be punished.

Using the internet, Serrure gained access to Jacques' Facebook account and posted all the malicious comments he found before logging out. That would make his "friends" realize his real nature. If not, well… at least he was going to have a lot of work trying to prove that he didn't post the comments.

The phone itself was pretty awesome. It had all the coolest games and applications and also a solar battery, which meant he didn't need to recharge it as long as it was under the sun. It was the most expensive thing Serrure had ever had and he was planning on enjoying it.

Deep, deep down, the boy knew that what he had done was wrong but he didn't think too much about it. People like Jacques were used to have everything they wanted in a silver platter. Worse of it, people seemed to be unable to see their faults and worshiped them like they were important.

Fine, Serrure knew he was no angel but he didn't plan to be one either. Those who were kind were the ones who suffered the most because everybody else took advantage from them and discarded them when they were of no further use. Serrure wasn't stupid! The only person he could count on was himself.

"I'm fine all by myself. I don't need anybody" the boy thought, tossing the dirty bag and the empty can to the trash.

The boy wandered around for a good while and finally started to relax as there were no signs of the gang members around. It was time to think about his next move, but first he needed to find a good place to sleep, it was getting dark.

Chapter Text

By the time Jane passed by the tenth knocked-out guard, she knew she was crazy. Even though the Black Widow had lured all the guards away, de-activated the security system and told them exactly where the Relic was, she couldn't believe that they were actually stealing it.

The stone was small enough to hide it in a bag and all they had to do was use one of Stark invention's to open the safe were it was stored and take it. Now they needed to run back to their privet jet as fast as possible a go back to the States. Natasha would meet them there.

"Darcy! Stop breathing so loud!" Jane whispered anxiously as they left the building into the dark street.

"I have the right to breath loud! We're stealing from Louvre, for Christ's sake!" Darcy moaned. "When I accepted to work for you, I didn't think I could go to jail!"

"Would you stop whining? It wasn't my idea to steal the Norse Relic. If you want to blame someone, blame SHIELD! They were the ones who got us into this mess!"

"But you agreed! I never agreed! We're so gonna end up in jail for this..."

"Shut up!"

The two women started running to the street, where their car was already waiting to take them to the airport. Jane could almost see their bored driver when a boy suddenly appeared in their way, forcing them to stop. In horror, Jane realized that he had been sitting under a statue with a perfect view to their exit.

"Ah…" Jane gasped, terrified by the fact that they had been seem despite all the precautions. One glance at Darcy told her that her colleague was thinking the same thing.

The boy didn't say anything. He was just staring at them with his piercing green eyes, his black hair blowing with the wind.

"Let me do the talking, Jane" Darcy said. "It's just a kid. We'll give him money and he'll scram. He probably didn't know what we were doing anyway."

The boy blinked at her statement, but kept looking at them. Darcy faced him with the biggest smile she had and tried to think of the right words in French, but she was so nervous that her mind went blank.

"Bonjour ... petit enfant. Nous nice dames!" Darcy said while the boy frowned at each word. "Nous voulons ... te donner money... être bon garcon."

"Wow! That was awful! You Americans really butcher the French language" the boy said in perfect English, a surprisingly British accent and a mischievous sneer in his lips. "That and stealing a stone from the Louvre when the government told you that you couldn't? You guys must be pretty rude at SHIELD."

The two women went pale. What the heck was with this kid?

"We… we didn't steal anything" Jane said. "We're scientists, not burglars. And we do not work for SHIELD."

The kid's smile grew even wider. "Oh, really? Then how come you said this?" he took a phone from his pocket and played a recording of them leaving the Louvre.

"Would you stop whining? It wasn't my idea to steal the Norse Relic. If you want to blame someone, blame SHIELD! They were the ones who got us into this mess!"

Jane gaped as she heard her own voice on the phone. The boy had heard and filmed everything they said. All their hard work was ruined.

"I wonder what the police is going to say when I show them this. I bet they will give me a reward" Serrure said happily. "Better yet! I could sell this video to a TV station and get rich!"

"NO!" Jane cried out. "I mean… there's no need for you to do that. We're not stealing the stone, just borrowing it. We'll give it back."

"Without their permission?" the boy teased, obviously amused. "C'mon, miss. I may be a child but I'm not stupid. You're stealing!"

"SHIELD saved the world, you know" Darcy intervened. "If it weren't for them and the Avengers, you wouldn't even be here!"

Serrure frowned. He had heard about the alien attack four years ago and seen the Avenger's footage on the TV, though they never really meant much to him. He had no memories of his life during the attack.

"The Avengers could have saved the world, but they're not here to save me from starving. Nowadays, you have to do anything to survive" Serrure said, watching the women's faces pale even more. Phase 1 completed, it was time to initiate Phase 2 of his plan. "However… I guess I could make you a deal…"

Jane frowned. "A deal?"

"Yeah! You know… I'll keep your secret and you'll do something for me in return. It's quite simple."

Jane and Darcy exchanged looks. They had no idea what this little punk could want from them, but time was running out and they really didn't have much of a choice.

"Fine" Jane said. "What do you want?"

Serrure stared at them in the eyes. "Take me with you."

"What?" Darcy asked.

"Take me with you" the raven repeated, his face becoming dead serious. "You're going back to the US, right? So I want you to take me with you."

Jane stared back at the black-haired boy with her eyes wide. She expected him to ask for money, not this. 

"What about your parents?" Jane asked. "You can't just leave them. They'll be worried sick!"

The boy's eyes seemed to harden. "I don't have any parents. I'm an orphan. There's no one to be worried about me."

Jane's expression softened. "Oh… I'm so sorry…"

"Forget that! Do we have a deal or what?"

Jane looked at Darcy who seemed as nervous as she was. They couldn't just take a kid out of his country, even if he was an orphan. There had to be laws against that and causing an international incident was the last thing they needed when they were already "borrowing" the Norse Relic. 

"Listen…" Jane whispered, noticing that the boy's eyes had widened immensely. Following his gaze, the two women looked behind them, only to see several armored men appearing from the shadows, each one holding a strange riffle in their direction.

"Friends of yours?" Serrure asked, feeling a chill up his spine.

"Not that I know of…" Jane muttered, slowly backing away.

"Jane? Who are them?" Darcy asked, her legs trembling at the sight of the riffles. "Are they from SHIELD?"

"I don't think so" the older woman answered.

One of the men walked towards them. "Give us the Relic. Any attempt to fight back will be useless."

"Fight? We don't want to fight! Right, Jane?" Darcy mumbled.

"Who are you?" Jane asked.

"We serve the one who shall rule" the man said, his voice sounding weird under his helmet. "We are the warriors of the rightful king of this Earth. Surrender in the name of Loki!"

Darcy gasped and grabbed Jane's arm, while Serrure looked in both awe and fear at the strange men.

"Loki?" Jane said, her eyes wide with fear. "How is it…?"

A shotgun made the three cringe as the warrior fell on the ground, dead. Jane looked at their car and saw that the driver had a smoking gun in his hand.

"Come inside! Let's go!" the men yelled.

Without thinking, Jane grabbed both Darcy and the boy and pulled them to the car, under the heavy fire. The moment they fell on the backseat and closed the door, their driver sped up through the empty street as the warriors continued to shot at their car, breaking the glass of the back.

Darcy screamed and Jane lay down on car seat, still holding her friend and boy. When she tried to peek outside, Serrure instinctively pushed her down a second before they started shooting again.

The driver urged them to stay down as he raced through the city. It seemed like an eternity until they finally reached the airport and the car stopped right in front of the jet. With their driver yelling at them to hurry, the three ran from the car and climbed the stairs to the waiting jet.

A few seconds later, they were finally flying. Jane sat on one of the chairs, panting and grabbing her chest, while Darcy walked back and forth whispering "Oh my God!" over and over. Serrure was glancing at the window, his heart still racing and thinking about the mysterious men. What the hell had he gotten into?

"Dr. Foster, we have contacted Agent Romanoff" the driver said, coming from the cockpit. "She'll be waiting for us in New York before we head out to New Mexico."

"Alright… Okay…" Jane muttered.

The man looked at Serrure and frowned. "I wasn't aware that we were taking a kid."

"Ah? Oh!" Jane gasped, as if she finally had noticed that the boy had come with them. "It's alright! He's my… ah… my boyfriend's little brother. I promised to give him a ride and... I'm afriad he got caught in this mess. That's not going to be a problem, is it?"

Serrure looked at Jane and the suspicious agent with the most innocent look she had ever seen. Damn, the kid was a good actor.

"I'll have to report this and inform my superiors" the man said flatly, though obviously not happy with the boy's presence. "Please get some rest, it's going to be a long ride, Miss Foster."

"Thank you."

The moment the agent left, Jane sighed and buried her head in her hands. Serrure walked again to the window and saw the city he had called home grow smaller and smaller. He had seen an opportunity to leave the country when he saw the two North American women leave the Louvre, but he couldn't have guessed that they were from SHIELD or that a bunch of warriors were going to try to kill them all over that stupid stone. What were they? Aliens? And why were they doing this? Who was the king they were talking about?

"Hey! Hmm… Jane?" Serrure asked, remembering the other woman calling her by that name.

"What?" Jane answered, rubbing her forehead.

"Who's Loki?"

Chapter Text

"You're a liar!" Darcy cried out. "You big, fat lying brat! You said you were going to give us the film if we took you with us!"

Serrure was sitting across the young woman, indolently drinking his fresh coke and eating cookies with a grin on his lips.

"Well, technically speaking, I never did promise to give you the film" the boy said. "I just told you I wouldn't show it."

"Why you little…!"

"Darcy!" Jane warned, though she also frowned at the young thief. "Look, kid…"

"Serrure" the boy interrupted.

"Huh?"

"My name is not "kid". It's Serrure. Serrure DuSeine" he said, finishing his meal. "I would appreciate if you called me by that."

Jane blinked. In that moment, the boy sounded very prim and proper, very different from the little rascal they were expecting. If he took a bath, cut his hair and got nicer clothes without stains or holes on them, he would look very cute. He was definitely educated and smart; children like that didn't grow up on the streets. He had to have a family somewhere.

"Alright… Serrure. I'll admit that situation on the Louvre was unexpected. I wasn't planning on dragging you with us, it was just a reflex" the scientist said.

Serrure smiled. "Just as well, because if I had stayed there, I would be dead."

"Okay, but you have to understand that we can't take you with us" Jane insisted. "We're scientists and we're working. We can't look after you."

"That won't be a problem, Jane" Serrure answered, still smiling. "I don't need to be looked after."

"You're a child. Every child needs someone to look after them. You need a home, a family…"

"I don't have it" the boy said bitterly, his smile fading from his face, his green eyes bright and angry. "I don't have a home or a family. I never did. I can live just fine without them" he looked at the two women in the eyes. "Let me guess… the moment we land, there will be a social worker waiting to take me back to France, yes?"

Jane's brown eyes widened with surprise. "How did you…?"

Serrure chuckled. "You adults are so predictable. You all act the same way regardless of where you're from. The thing is… I'm not that easy to trick, you know? I've been with social workers and foster homes before and I'm not going back."

"But you could get a family…"

"No, I won't! I know how it works. It's like a kennel. Parents only want the cute, little puppies. No one wants the older ones, the bad ones, the sick ones…" the boy said, lowering his face and listening to the wind outside the jet. "I'm a pest and a thief, there's no way someone is going to take me."

"Geez, I wonder why…" Darcy mumbled sarcastically, receiving a poke from her mentor. "Ouch! What? It's true! He said it!"

"Act like an adult, would you?" Jane groaned.

"Anyway… You don't have to worry. I'll go with you until I find my way. Then I'll be out of your hair" Serrure said. "I'll keep the video with me, just for safety. If you try to trick me, this will be all over the internet. I bet it will go viral on YouTube in two hours!"

Jane sighed and Darcy cursed angrily. It was humiliating to be at the mercy of a little kid, but they didn't have any choice unless they tried to take his phone. As if he had read their thoughts, Serrure took the phone and put it inside his pants.

"I dare you to try and take it" the boy sneered.

"Great! We're stuck with Damien Thorn" Darcy cried out, glaring at the grinning child. "All that's missing is the big horns on his head!"

Serrure ignored her and sat comfortably on his seat, enjoying being warm and well fed while it lasted. He was used to insults and being disliked, he learned how to live with it. However, he did make a mental note to check who Damien Thorn was.

"So tell me more about this Loki guy!" Serrure asked. "You said he was the bad guy who tried to take over the world, but didn't the Avengers kill him?"

Jane sat across the boy, while Darcy sat in the other side of the jet.

"As far as I know, the Avengers didn't kill him" the older scientist said.

Serrure looked confused. "Why? The bad guys always die at the end."

"Unfortunately, not always" Jane continued. "I'm sure Iron Man and the others would gladly kill Loki, but… well… Thor would never allow it."

"Thor?" Serrure said softly, wondering why the word sounded so familiar.

"He's one of the Avengers" Jane explained.

"The big, blond hunk with the red cape and silver armor" Darcy added. "Very handsome, but most of the guys from the team are."

"Anyway" Jane went on. "Thor and Loki are from … another world. When Loki was defeated, Thor took him back to their home to face their justice."

Serrure nodded, obviously interested in the tale. "Why did Loki want to take over the Earth? That sounds like a lot of work."

"Who knows? I guess he is just evil" Jane said. "Before he tried to conquer the planet, he tried to kill us and Thor… his own brother."

"His brother? He tried to kill his brother? Why?"

"Because he's wicked and insane" Jane said angrily. "Believe me, he's the kind of man who would stop at nothing to get what he wants. He destroyed anything and anyone who stood in his way so he could have power. He's the worst kind of monster."

Serrure seemed to ponder on Jane's words, feeling somehow troubled with the conversation. "If… Thor took him to their home; shouldn't he be locked up in a dungeon? Or dead?"

Jane looked at the window. "I don't know… We all thought we would never hear from him again, but we have to think of the possibility that he might have escaped."

Asgard

Odin sighed deeply and rubbed his aching forehead. Even though the walls were thick, he could hear the music and happy cheering coming from the feast in Thor's honor. He had already excused himself from the banquet, shortly after congratulating his son on another successful quest. He didn't feel in a celebrating mood and Thor wasn't exactly pleased with his recent actions.

His son and his wife didn't understand that what Odin was doing was for their own good. Loki's betrayal and villainy had broken their family and filled the All-Father with sorrow. Maybe he shouldn't have kept the truth from his parentage away from him for so long, but nothing justified what Loki had done to Asgard and Midgard, the lives he had taken or attempting to murder Thor.

No. Nothing justified Loki's actions. Odin needed to remind himself of that every time he remembered Loki's face staring at him from the abyss, pleading for some kind of understanding and approval when all he could give him was his disappointment and regret. He knew he had done the right thing as a king. The only way to keep Asgard and Thor safe was to keep Loki away and erase him from their memories. In time, they would finally be able to forget him and move on with their lives.

It was useless to regret anything now.

"My King!"

Odin looked up and saw Heimdall entering his chamber, a solemn look in his golden eyes.

"What is it, Heimdall? What have you seen?"

When the guardian of Bifrost told him what he had seen, Odin stood up in shock.

Chapter Text

Thor Odinson had probably drunk too much, but he didn't care. He had just returned from a great quest with his noble friends, the Warriors Three and Sif, and defeated a horde of warriors sent from the fire colossus himself, Surtur. Their battle had been glorious and worthy of legends. The bards were working on ballads as they ate, determined not to let anyone is Asgard to forget their heroes and their bravery.

"Another!" Thor yelled, smashing a cup on the ground and instantly getting a replacement.

The hall was filled with food, people and laughter. Frandal was surrounded by women, boasting about his feats, Volstagg was too busy eating and laughing to speak and Hogun simply listened to his companions, smiling from time to time.

Sif was the only one who decided to bath and change her garments before joining her friends in the feast. When she arrived, she looked stunning and made several men turn their heads and admire her beauty. She sat next to Thor, talking and bickering with him like they always had. True, Sif had once been courted by the handsome Thunderer and rejected his advances. She didn't want to be like those silly women who couldn't see anything beyond his looks and status. Sif and known Thor since they were children, she knew him better than most people and she longed for his acknowledge of her strength as a warrior instead of another pretty face. She hoped that in time, Thor would become a mature man but she had waited too long.

Thor had changed from the better after his exile to Earth, but Sif wasn't the one who had made him a better man. It had been that mortal woman. Jane.

What was it about this mortal that was so important? How could she mean so much to Thor when they barely knew each other while Sif had known and been there for him all her life? What made her so worthy of his love?

Sif had heard of similar situations when a God and fallen in love with a mortal and those stories never ended well. She knew Thor would meet Jane again eventually, but they had time against them. Jane would grow older while Thor remained youthful. Obviously, he would plead to the All-Father to turn her into a goddess, but that was very unlikely.

"You look deep in thought, Sif" Thor said, smiling warmly at her. "I hope you're not fretting over that lovely dress you're wearing."

"I have more dresses. I worry about your comatose body falling on me though" she teased. "How many cups have you drunk? Eight? Nine?"

"Nonsense! I could drink until dawn and I would still feel ready for another battle! Don't worry, Sif!"

The warrior maiden smiled as Thor asked for another cup, his blond hair waving in the air like gold. Her hair had been golden once, beautiful. When they were children, Thor had said that he loved her hair. Shortly after that, Loki made it disappear.

Sif still felt crossed just thinking about it. It had been a prank, Loki said. He was just making a jest, but she knew the truth. Loki had done it because Thor liked her hair, so he had tried to make his brother miserable by taking it away and then replace it with black hair. Even as children, Loki had always been wicked and envious of Thor. She didn't like him then and she never did, just like most of Asgard.

Loki's death wasn't mourned and he wasn't missed. Instead, people often said how relieved they felt now that the Trickster was gone. But Thor wouldn't even listen, too blinded by his love for his unworthy brother. They had to hide their feelings about the trickster unless they wanted to unleash Thor's anger.

The crow demanded a speech from their champion and Thor jumped on top of the table, boasting about the details of his battle. At the end of his tale, the God of Thunder picked up his helmet and put it in his head while the men and women cheered.

The moment Thor finally sat back, he looked radiant and Sif felt happy. That was what he needed, to let go of the past, of Loki, of Jane and Midgard and focus on the precious life he had now with his family, his friend and her…

"You sure know how to tell a tale" Sif said with a grin. "I don't think a bard would have done better. Well… I would have appreciated the singing voice though."

"Ah! Ah! Sif, you adore my singing voice!"

"That's what your big head thinks" Sif pointed at his helmet. "Is that the helmet you wore on the coronation day?"

"Aye" Thor said. "The very same one."

Sif smiled. "Nice feathers!"

Suddenly, Thor's blue eyes widened and his mind was transported to a memory.

It was the day he had dreamed off from ages, his coronation day. Giant doors open at one end. Thor walked forward against the bright light beyond, his red cape wavering, his hammer in hand, he reached the end of a raised platform.

An attendant handed him a goblet of wine and he drank it quickly, hurling it towards the fire directly below.

"Another!" the Thunder God ordered, while the cup smashed, the alcohol causing the fire to glow intensely and, for a moment, brightly lit.

Thor walked down and saw a figure behind the curtains. Loki appeared next to him, wearing his horned headpiece and also dressed for the huge ceremony.

The brothers stood by a brazier at the foot of steps that led up to the crowded throne room.

"Nervous, brother?" Loki asked with his usual mischievous smile.

"Have you ever known me to be nervous?" Thor answered, laughing and hoping to hide the bit of fear he had in his heart.

Loki looked deep in thought for a moment. "Hmm. There was the time in Nornheim..."

Thor had to laugh at that! His little brother would never forget that battle when they were ambushed by hundreds of warriors, much to Thor's dismay. Aye, he had been nervous, but he wasn't going to admit it to Loki.

"That wasn't nerves, brother. It was the rage of battle" Thor said confidently.

"Ah! I see" Loki answered sarcastically.

"How else could I have fought my way through a hundred warriors and pulled us out alive?"

"Huh… As I recall, I was the one who veiled us in smoke to ease our escape" Loki said.

Thor laughed even louder while another attendant approached him with another goblet of wine for him. There was no way Thor was going to admit that Loki had saved his life or that he had made a mistake. He would have been able to defeat those warriors eventually.

"Some do battle, others just do tricks" the blond said.

The attendant stifled a laugh and the next thing Thor knew, man yelled and the goblet fell to the ground while eels slithered from it.

"Loki…" Thor said, hearing his brother chuckling. "Now that was just a waste of good wine."

"Just a bit of fun" the God of Mischief said, turning to the scared attendant with a grin. "Right, my friend?"

With a light wave of his hand, the eels disappeared and the attendant picked up the goblet and left the chuckling brothers. A moment later, another attendant brought Thor his new helmet.

"Nice feathers!" Loki said.

Thor chuckled and faced his brother, staring at the horns on his golden helmet.

"You don't really want to start this again, do you, Cow?"

"I was being sincere!"

"You're incapable of sincerity" Thor answered.

"Am I?" Loki said with a laugh. Then, his expression became serious and his green eyes were staring at his older brother's blue ones, all pretense lost. "I've looked forward to this day as long as you have. You're my brother and my friend. Sometimes I'm envious, but never doubt that I love you."

Thor searched his brother's face and saw no trace of irony. He was either speaking from his heart or he was a very, very good liar. Maybe both. Thor put an appreciative hand on his brother's shoulder, deciding to believe the first option.

"Thank you" he said, feeling truly glad that Loki was there with him. Despite all their fights, he loved his brother from the bottom of his heart and he was the person he felt most at ease.

The brothers took a moment of silent, until Loki spoke again.

"Now give us a kiss" the raven said jokingly.

"Stop it!" Thor laughed and made the final adjustments to his ceremonial wear. "Really, how do I look?"

Loki stared at Thor for a few seconds. "Like a king."

"Thor? Thor did you hear me?" Sif asked, but the blond man looked miles away. "Thor!"

"Huh? What?" Thor asked, looking at Sif with a strange expression on his face.

"I was asking if you want to join Frandal and Hogun" she said, pointing toward their friends. "They are about to duel."

Thor looked at his companions and the laughing crowd, suddenly feeling a heavy weight on his chest. All of the joy he had moments earlier now gone.

"Maybe some other time" Thor said, standing up and ready to leave the feast. "I feel tired, Sif. I should get some rest."

Sif could only watch as Thor left the hall, sending his admirers away with a wave of his hand. The maiden knew what changed Thor's disposition so quickly, she had seen it numerous times.

Loki was still haunting him.

Thor sat near one of the fountains, away from the feast and the laughter and from the people who wouldn't understand his feelings of sorrow. They had been understanding for a while, but when Thor couldn't forget his grief or his brother, his friends just wanted him to stop brooding and become his cheerful self again, like he had been.

The problem was that he couldn't be the person he had been. A lot had changed in those past few years and Thor couldn't stay the same anymore. He had known humility and the frailty of the humans. He had fallen in love instead of the lust he was used to. He had gained new friends. He had lost his brother.

Looking back at all his memories with his brother, Thor couldn't help but wonder if every time Loki smile he was really cursing him inside, if all the times he thought he loved him had been nothing but a lie… For how long had Loki hated him? When did he start to plan his vengeance on Thor and try to stab him the back? Did Loki love him at all or had he been lying all this time?

The God of Thunder remembered Loki's words perfectly when he had asked him if he remembered the good times they had spend together, but the raven answered that he only remembered being shadowed by Thor greatness. Was it really true? Loki didn't hold any good memory of their family in his heart? Did he stop thinking about them as such the moment he found out his true parentage?

"Goodnight, Thor."

Thor almost felt angry by the intrusion, until he saw his mother coming towards him with a gentle smile on her lips.

"It is late, Mother" the blond said. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I can't. There are too many thoughts on my mind" Frigga said, sitting next to her son. "What about you?"

"Likewise…"

Frigga grabbed Thor's hand and smiled, though her eyes looked as haunted as his were.

"Thor, I miss him too" the Queen of Asgard said, as if she had read Thor's mind.

"I'm not sure if what I miss is real, Mother" the blond continued. "I can't help but doubt my memories of Loki. He had so much hatred inside of him and I never noticed. I wonder if I was the only one who thought of him as a brother…"

Frigga sighed. "When you're angry with someone, it is a lot easier to recall the bad memories and ignore the good ones. Loki always felt jealous of you, of your skills, your popularity, Odin's pride for you… He wanted to be you."

"But why?" Thor cried out. "Why would he want to be like me? He had his own strengths and… my friends are his friends! We all fought together!"

"Thor… Do you really think your friends felt the same way about Loki as they did about you?"

"Of course they…" Thor stopped and his mouth slowly closed as he thought about his friends' treatment towards his brother, how uncomfortable and suspicious they were of him, how they didn't mourn him a second. "No… they did not."

Frigga looked at the full moon, tears behind her eyes. "We've all failed to notice how lonely he felt, how sad… I saw the way he always compared himself to you and how saddened he felt every time tried to impress your father. Loki's skills in sorcery and deceit were astonishing. He's intellect rivaled your hand-to-hand combat, but being smart isn't something warriors in Asgard value, it is strength and bravery."

Thor shook his head. "He was a good warrior. Sure, he fought differently from us but I never doubted his power. When I underrated his tricks, it was all a friendly bickering between brothers."

"I guess it was because you always felt confident about yourself" she added. "Loki lacked your confidence and your self-esteem, Thor. Looking back now, I see that he never thought of himself worthy as long as he wasn't acknowledged. He felt inferior to you and jealous, that grew into hatred. Especially after he found out he was Laufey's abandoned, Jotun son. He sought of a chance to make Odin proud of him by destroying Jotunheim, but he failed. Then he tried to become king in Midgard and prove to himself that he was worthy. After failing at everything, he saw no reason to stay alive anymore."

Thor stood up and walked back and forth angrily. "It never mattered! It didn't matter that he was a Jotun or Laufey's son. I still thought of him as my brother and my blood! Why couldn't he see it? Why did he have to destroy everything?"

"Thor… if it had been you, would you feel that way?"

The Thunderer stopped dead on his tracks. What would he feel like if it had been him who was adopted? How would he feel if he found out he was the monster he had learned to hate all his life? Or that his birth father had abandoned him to die? How would he feel to know that the one he called father had kept this all from him?

"I would feel so angry… betrayed" Thor answered. "My first action would be to punch father. I really don't know how I would deal with it."

Frigga stood up and placed a warm hand on her son's shoulder before leaving.

"Mother?" Thor asked.

Frigga stopped and turned around. "Yes?"

"I know I should hate him. I should feel nothing but anger but, despite everything he said … everything he did… I still wish he was here" Thor said, lowering his head. "I miss my brother, Mother. I miss my brother."

Frigga nodded and went back to the palace, while Thor stared at the infinite stars with tear rolling down his cheek.

Serrure had fallen asleep in one of the seats and he was dreaming. This dream was different from the ones he was used to. There was no violence, hatred or murder. Instead, he saw a blond boy his age talking to him and smiling. He couldn't understand what the boy was saying, but he felt happy, his mouth muttering a single word in his sleep.

Darcy looked back and saw the young street hustler moving in his sleep, before shrugging and putting her headphones in her ears.

She could have sworn she had heard him say "brother".

Chapter Text

Working for SHIELD, even if off the record, had its advantages. One of those was having a private jet which was faster than any other in the market. Jane and Darcy had checked out of the hotel hours before the theft, a few adjustments on the security cameras and the police would see them leave Paris an hour before the crime was committed.

Jane grabbed her coat and followed Darcy inside the JFK airport to meet with Natasha and wait to refuel their jet. She wasn't eager for their conversation. How were they going to tell the Black Widow that they had completely screwed up by letting a kid film and blackmail them? And how were they going to explain that they had dragged said kid into their jet?

Speaking of whom…

"Darcy?" Jane asked. "Where's Serrure?"

The younger woman blinked and stared behind her boss, but she could only see unknown people walking hurriedly around the airport. "What the…? He was right behind you a minute ago."

Jane searched the young orphan in the crowd, but she couldn't see him anywhere. "I don't see him."

"Maybe he ran away," Darcy pulled her raincoat closer to her body. "He said he just wanted a ride and then he'd be out of our hair. One less problem to worry about!"

Jane did feel relieved at the prospect of not having to explain Serrure's presence but, almost immediately, she remembered that he still had the video and could use it to blackmail them.

On the other hand, they had just lost a little kid into the dangerous streets of New York. No matter how obnoxious and street wise he was, Serrure was still just a child. He could be kidnapped, injured, raped or even murdered… All because two selfish scientists were too worried about themselves to look after him.

"We have to find him," Jane said.

"What? Jane…!"

Jane's eyes glared at her friend. "He's just a kid, Darcy. How can we live with ourselves if something happens to him? I know I can't."

Darcy sighed heavily. "Fine, enough with the guilt trip. I get it! Let's find the squirt."

"Who are you calling 'squirt'?"

Both women almost jumped before staring at the raven boy who was suddenly behind them, smiling at their faces.

"Damnit, kid!" Darcy cried out. "What's the matter with you?"

Serrure's smile widened. "Me? You're the one who called me squirt."

Darcy hissed in frustration while the kid laughed.

"Where were you, Serrure?" Jane asked, her brown eyes serious and worried. They had some sort of effect on the kid, because his snicker died instantly.

"I went to the currency exchange machine," the boy explained, adjusting his old backpack on his thin shoulders. "My Euros wouldn't be very useful here, would they?"

Jane crossed her arms around her chest. "You know how to work with those machines?"

"I figured it out. I'm quite resourceful!"

Jane stretched her hand and grabbed the boy's shoulder, pushing him towards her. "Just… don't leave like that again, alright? We were worried."

The boy frowned and squirmed uncomfortably under her grasp. He obviously wasn't used to people touching him.

"Why would you be worried, Dr. Jane Foster? I was under the impression that you and your associate would be glad to see me leave."

Jane couldn't help but stare at Serrure. What kind of child spoke like that? Sure, she was not expert on children's behavior, but even she knew that an abandoned orphan who had to live on the streets wouldn't be this civil and well-spoken. Then there was his accent. He sounded very close to British, even though his name was French.

"Believe it or not, we're not the kind of people who would just leave a kid by himself," Jane answered.

Still grabbing Serrure's shoulder, Jane led them outside the airport into a cab under the pouring rain. After telling the driver the address, the older scientist ran her hands through her wet hair and glanced at her soaked shoes and jeans.

"Great! Traffic!" Darcy moaned, taking off her coat and mentally cursing the damn weather and damp heat inside the old cab.

While Jane texted Natasha their whereabouts and informed the spy that they were most likely be late, Serrure, who was squeezed between the two scientists, swung forward so he could watch the city from the front window.

The cab driver glanced at the small boy and smiled. His son had been around his age when they moved from Oporto and had the same look of interest in his face.

"It's a big city, isn't it?" the driver asked. There were customers who preferred to be left alone, but he was chatty by nature and talking always made the trip easier with this kind of weather. "Too bad about the rain, though."

Serrure shrugged. "Chove em todo o lado. A chuva não muda as cidades." It rains everywhere. Rain doesn't change cities.

The driver's eyes widened as he heard the boy talk his mother tongue before laughing at loud. "Aí está uma grande verdade! De onde vieram, filho? E não me digas 'do aeroporto'. Essa piada é velha." There's a big truth right there! Where did you come from, son? And don't say 'from the airport'. That joke is really getting old.

"Tecnicamente não seria uma piada porque viemos mesmo do aeroporto. Acabamos de chegar de Paris." Technically it wouldn't be a joke because we really came from the airport. We just arrived from Paris.

"Bela cidade! Gostava de lá ir um dia com a minha mulher para a uma segunda lua-de-mel. Talvez quando ganhar a lotaria," Beautiful city! I would like to go there someday with wife for our second honey moon the old man glanced at the sleepy Darcy and Jane who was talking on the phone. "Então… Vieram passar férias à Grande Maçã em família? As tuas irmãs parecem cansadas…" So… Did you come to spend your family vacation in the Big Apple? Your sisters look tired…

Serrure decided that would be easier to let driver think they were family, so he simply nodded and they continued chatting.

Jane put down her phone and stared at Serrure. She had been too distracted with her phone call to notice that the cab driver was talking to the boy in Portuguese though Serrure was answering him in English.

Strange, she thought.

When they finally reached they destination, a small, inconspicuous coffee house, the driver turned to her and said something in Portuguese which left her staring awkwardly at him. Not knowing what else to do, Jane took thirty bucks from her wallet and gave it to the surprised man, who then gave her the change.

"Goodbye," Jane said, leaving the cab.

"Bye," the driver answered, confused.

Soon the cab disappeared into the streets and they entered the coffee house. After a waitress took their order, Serrure glanced at Jane with a frown. "What was that about?"

"What?" Jane asked.

"Well… the cab driver wished us a good stay in New York and you abruptly gave him money," the boy explained. "I know you're in a hurry but the man was just being polite."

Jane blushed and suddenly wished she could call the cab back and apologize. But then again, how was she supposed to know what the cab driver was saying?

"Why would he think I spoke Portuguese?" Jane said.

Serrure blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Did you tell him that I spoke Portuguese?"

"No, and I don't understand your confusion, Jane. You heard us talking. You know what we said."

"I know what you said, but I couldn't understand the cab driver. He was talking to you in Portuguese and you were talking in English."

The boy gaped and looked down, water dropping from his hair into the old table. Suddenly, he looked confused and lost and every bit the young child that he was.

"I… I don't understand. Are you saying that he wasn't talking in English too?"

Jane's brown eyes widened and she exchanged a look with an equally perplexed Darcy before calling the boy again. "Serrure, you didn't notice that he was talking in another language."

The boy shook his head. "I noticed that his tone changed a bit… but I didn't notice anything different from when I talk to you or anybody else in Paris."

"Wait a second… Are you saying that every language sounds the same to you?" Darcy asked, straightening in her chair.

Serrure remembered than he never had any trouble talking to the tourists while he did his card trick. Honestly, he never noticed that they could be talking different languages and he never tried to change his own. He just talked and everybody understood what he said. Reynard had once mentioned that he didn't understand how he was so lucky with the tourists; could it be because he spoke all their languages? That didn't make any sense.

"How is that possible?" Serrure asked defiantly.

Darcy took out her phone and logged into her YouTube account. After scrolling down some videos, she finally found what she was looking for: Japanese news footage.

"Tell us what they're saying?" Darcy handed Serrure the phone and waited.

"Hmm… it's an Asian reporter talking to people. She's asking them what happened after the Tsunami… this old lady is telling her that she lost her house and her husband is missing. Now she's interviewing a man… ah… he said his family lost everything. Now they're showing footage of ruined buildings and… they're saying that the nuclear plant is in danger of exploding."

Darcy took the phone back and showed the video to Jane with the subtitles activated this time. Serrure had translated everything correctly.

"Did you ever learn Japanese?" Jane asked, obviously impressed.

"I don't reme… I mean, no. I haven't," Serrure seemed upset by his strange ability. To him it was just another thing that made him weird. "Look! The food is here!"

Though they were eating, Darcy couldn't help but show Serrure three more videos for him to translate: one in Greek, Turkish and Swahili. Like with the first video, the kid had managed to translate correctly all three.

"Wow!" Darcy exclaimed. "That's… that's pretty amazing! You're like a super polyglot."

Serrure pouted and swallowed his chocolate pancakes. "Great. I'm a super translator, that would make me rich. I just have to compete with Google."

Jane smiled. "It's a very useful gift and I think you beat Google Translator by many, many points."

The boy shrugged again and started playing with Darcy's phone.

"Hey! Hand's off my phone!"

"It's my reward for my job as a translator."

"Not with my phone, brat! Jane! Jane, he's got my phone!"

Jane rolled her eyes. Now she knew how mothers with noisy kids felt like killing them sometimes for a little peace and quiet. Despite that, Serrure's language knowledge was very unusual. Children didn't just know all known languages out of the blue. There had to be a reasonable explanation for it.

"What if I try to translate your texts?" Serrure teased, moving away from Darcy's arms. "Or your photos? Do you have good photos?"

Darcy blushed like a tomato and her efforts to regain her phone doubled. "No freaking way, you brat! Give my phone! Jane, help!"

"What am I? Your babysitter?" Jane answered.

Grinning, Serrure clicked on the photo icon and touched the first one that he saw. He was expecting some juicy material to tease Darcy with, instead his green eyes widened and he froze in his place.

It was a photo of a hammer, but very different from any hammer he had seen before. This one looked bigger and… well, fancier. There were symbols written on it, small ones. Serrure had just zoomed the photo and started reading them when Darcy snatched her phone back.

"Hey!" the boy cried out.

"Keep your dirty hands of my stuff," Darcy said in triumph. "What gives you the right to… what were you watching?" Darcy zoomed out and stared at Thor's hammer.

"I was just reading it. You didn't have to take it like that," the boy groaned.

Darcy showed the photo to Jane, who stood up and grabbed the phone. "Wait… are you saying you can read what written in here?"

"Yeah. What's the big deal? It's just a hammer."

Jane gave the phone back to Serrure, her heart pounding in her chest. "Can you read it out loud?"

"Again? You doctors sure like to use me as a guinea pig. From now on, I'm charging you!" Jane grabbed his arm and the boy shut up. Something in her face made him realize that this wasn't another translation test. "What?"

"Please…" the scientist asked, her eyes way too bright.

"Fine. Give me that," Serrure reluctantly took the phone from her hands and zoomed in again. Maybe he didn't realize when he was hearing different languages, but the written word was another thing entirely. He knew this wasn't English, but he could still read it. "It says 'Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of ... Thor'."

The last word felt weird on Serrure's mouth before he remembered that Thor was one of the Avengers and a so called Norse God. Why would a Norse God's name leave a bitter taste in his mouth?

Meanwhile, Jane had to sit down, her eyes never leaving the boy's face. If Serrure could read Mjolnir, he could also be able to translate the Norse Stone that had gotten them into this mess.

Inside her car, Natasha remembered once more all the details from the data she had collected. It had been bad enough that Foster and her colleague had been seen and filmed by a child, but their attack was what worried her more.

Those warriors had been carrying out assassinations, terrorist attacks, robbing banks and museums all over the globe but they had never managed to catch or identify them. However, they had claimed to be under Loki's command during the Louvre's incident.

Since they couldn't communicate with Thor, it was impossible to ask him if Loki could have possibly faked his death and come back to Earth to finished the job. Still, if this was Loki again, why was he being so stealthy? What was he doing this time? Who was he working with?

Parking next to the coffee house, Natasha glanced at the new file SHIELD had created about the boy Foster and Lewis had brought with them. The file was brief since there virtually no records on the kid since a year ago, though his origins were suspicious and required further investigation.

What they had been able to find was that on last year's April 1st, there had recordings of a sudden blast by the Seine where they had eventually rescued a young boy with no apparent memory of who he was or how he got into the river. The boy, self-named 'Serrure', had been sent into the foster care while all attempts to find his identity and family had been futile. There were no prints or DNA on the system and no one ever reported him as missing or claimed him. About six months ago, the kid had run away from his foster home and never seen until now.

Natasha stared at a photo the police had taken shortly after they found the kid and her gut twisted. She had seen those eyes, that face and that black hair before. She would never forget them even if she wanted. No matter how she much she looked, that kid always reminded her of Loki.

Maybe it was just a coincidence or maybe recent events with the sudden reappearance of the Winter Soldier had left her memories compromised. Her past seemed to be coming back for her and opening wounds she thought she had healed a long time ago.

At the time, the Winter Soldier had only been a nameless soldier who she worked with. Even after they got involved more personally, he was still nameless. Now he was back. Now he had a name.

Bucky. James.

Shaking her head, Natasha stored the file in her glove-compartment and left for the coffee house.