Avengers 1. Goodbye, Old Life

**A Note to the Reader**: Hello, everyone. I'm a kinda old member here, but I've just recently gotten back into writing. This might be a bit of a bumpy ride at first, but I'm expecting a fairly good story! I don't think there'll be much shipping in this particular fic – aside from your usual Clintasha. But this story mainly focuses on the events immediately following the end of _The Avengers. _I know it's not the most original idea, but I have some special things lined up for this particular story that'll hopefully set it apart from the others. I hope you enjoy~.

* * *

"There _must_ be a way. He is my bother, by blood or not, I don't care which. I know he can change, Barton, but we must give him a chance," Thor pleaded, taking a step in front of the exit that Clint had been striding towards at the mere mention of Loki. The two stared each other down for a moment, and then Clint shifted his weight on his feet, obviously thinking hard.

"I don't want that bastard around here, but if you _really _think he can change, then I want some kind of _proof_," Clint snapped finally, obviously frustrated with the back-and-forth argument going on in his head. A few days ago, the answer would have been a definite _no _and maybe an arrow to the chest. Once he had learned of the full aftermath of Loki's attack, Clint was anything but willing to allow the god anywhere near the planet, much less within a hundred mile radius of either Natasha or himself. But Thor had been going on about him for weeks, talking about how much he's already changed, about how compliant he is on Asgard, and the agent hadn't ever a reason to doubt the thunder god before. Then again, this was another matter, entirely. "I want more proof than washing the dishes or taking out the trash, or whatever else you have him doing back there."

"He went to his home planet, of his own accord," Thor muttered, recalling the event clearly in his mind. That was the first thing Loki had wanted to do, especially since he thought he was going to be sentenced to death. It'd been a challenge to convince the Allfather of Loki's decent intentions, but once they'd received permission, it was as though Loki had changed completely. "He saved the remainder of the world he'd wanted destroyed. He took what small supplies he could over, and with no outside help, he saved countless lives. He gained a truce with a deadly force for Asgard, and with no strings attached. I even had the chance to see him as he worked – helping a young frost giant find his mother, only to realize the poor creature had been orphaned. Loki sat with him as he cried and helped him find a new home. Does that convince you?"

Clint wouldn't have believed it if it weren't Thor telling the story. The way the god talked, the gestures he made – and more importantly, his pained expression,- made it obvious that those were not the well-fabricated lies that his brother was so easily capable of. But, still, Clint was hesitant to aid Thor in his plans. Bringing Loki back to earth was like a mouse chatting with an angry snake. The skilled hunter drew in a deep breath and exhaled it through his nose.

"I'll talk to Fury about it," Clint began, "on one condition."

"I'd have it for you, whatever it is." Thor promised.

"Good, 'cause you aren't gonna like what I have in mind."

* * *

The cell they kept him in was exceptionally small. There was enough room to comfortably sit maybe four average Asgardians. Each wall was mirror-like, not unlike the room in which he had paid a visit to Thor - back when the throne was rightfully his own. These mirrors were foggier than that of the interrogation room, but even the ceiling and floor carried the unnerving quality. That meant Loki was forced to look himself in the face at all times, unless he was asleep. He was alone, but always seeing another body. It was a strange feeling that his mind never quite adapted to in the five days he'd spent completely without contact. There was hope, however, as he knew that Thor would do anything to keep him from death. Loki figured he was either with the Allfather or with Director Fury pleading. In his mind he thought the idea of Thor pleading for his sake pitiful, but the weight in Loki's heart lightened considerably when he thought of his brother working to save his life. It didn't lighten every burden upon him, but he was otherwise comfortable knowing he had plenty to think about aside from the possibility of death and all his previous wrongdoings. He had helped the Jotuns, he had made peace with several beings that would have otherwise loved to send Asgard hurdling into an abyss, and he had even talked to the warrior's three. That wasn't enough to justify his crimes, he knew, but it was enough to keep his mind occupied lest he go insane in his small prison.

Just as he was running out of those occupations, the thousands of miniscule bolts in his cell walls whirred and collapsed against each other, signaling a visitor – likely the guards. Loki was on his feet in seconds, but the trained men were faster than he. All at once the cell was at full capacity and Loki's hands were forced behind his back and the familiar feel of the suffocating restraints clamped to his wrists returned. He was given the benefit of not being forced back into the muzzle, which he was more than thankful for, but the restraints would keep him from using magic and escaping. Loki didn't say a word as he was led – pushed, more like – from the cell. He was walked once more through the maze of corridors lined with cells and who knew what else until finally he could hear the familiar roaring of lightning. He immediately perked up, but had to force back a hopeful expression at the sound, as well as keeping himself from throwing a glare in the direction of a guard that snickered at him from somewhere in the back.

Just as his impatience was peaking in his chest, Loki was led into the outer hall that led to the great throne room, where Odin delivered speeches and (almost) crowned Thor. As he shuffled across the glorious red carpet, he thought of his childhood and his short-lived life on the throne. Thousands of thoughts shot back and forth between his ears as they neared their destination. Once they'd entered the throne room, he could feel all the eyes of Asgard turn to him, but he couldn't bear to look up. The people he'd know all his life, hispeople, his _family_, were at his back with knives. All he'd ever done, all he'd ever aspired to, was for their benefit. And it had finally landed him in the worst possible position - in the face of death.

"Loki Laufeyson," Odin called so that the whole kingdom might hear him, "You are here today to face your crimes and to receive your punishment. Your wrongdoings are as follows: The slaughtering of Jotun innocents, the slaughtering of human innocents, delivering the prospect of war to Asgard, destruction upon two of the realms, and unauthorized use of the Destroyer. Do you deny these crimes?"

While Asgard had been dead silent throughout Odin's words, they were now quietly muttering among themselves. Unwilling to pick up any of their words, knowing they would make his already heavy pain nearly unbearable, Loki lifted his head and caught Thor's eye. The two of them swallowed at the same time before Thor looked away.

"I do not," said Loki with finality. Then, without any warning, he was shoved to his knees. His eyes widened and he stared ahead at Odin, already fearing the worst. Would they have him beheaded on the spot? Loki had only attended a few trials as he grew up, but none of them were quite as serious as his own. His breathing became shallow and he felt lightheaded, but he kept his expression blank to match the Allfather's. The chattering of the Asgardians immediately died down again once Odin raised his scepter.

"Then I sentence you to banishment to earth," Odin began quietly, his voice only just ringing throughout the throne room, "And the loss of all your memories."

* * *

Loki was shouting incoherent words, whether he was begging or cursing was unclear to him, but tears were on his cheeks before he could stop them. He kicked at the guards that restrained him further, and fought back as he was pulled from the throne room. He didn't stop his struggling for a moment, not even all the way to his cell. Once he was back within the four walls, still bound by heavy chains, his voice was hoarse and even breathing was painful, but he continued screaming until his throat was raw. When he was done, he simply lay there as he'd been thrown in, his chest heaving, his mind racing uncontrollably, and his shoulders shaking.

Time droned by until finally the clacking of bolts and the creaking of the door signaled yet another visitor. Loki didn't even have to lift his head to know who would be darkening his doorway. Thor hovered at the threshold before collapsing to his knees next to his brother. He rested a large hand on Loki's still-shaking shoulder, but to no reaction from Loki.

"Brother, I know the sentence is grim but," Thor paused, his voice cracking, "Is it not better than dying, as father had been contemplating?"

"Oh, how easy it must be for you to say those words, _dear brother, _when you aren't the one that has to lose everything! You get to carry on, you get to go _home. _I don't have a home! Isn't that punishment enough!? Isn't what you sick fools have done enough? Or do you just want to watch me slowly wither aw-"

Thor picked his brother up off the floor and began shaking his shoulders, "Brother, you mustn't speak like that! We _are_ your family, and we_ love you_." Loki simply stared at Thor blankly, his eyes murky and his posture limp. He was still shaking, but he'd lost the will to speak. He'd much rather hear Thor talk, but there were things he had to know. "When will it happen?"

Thor paused a moment before he said, "Tomorrow."

"Where?"

"On Earth."

"Your _precious _Earth," Loki spat back, "What am I supposed to do while I'm there, then?"

"You are to help repair the damages to the city where the battle took place," Thor said, ignoring Loki's jab, "The organization S.H.I.E.L.D. will tell you what you're to do specifically."

"Then I suppose they'll also be the ones to take my mind away," Loki murmured bitterly.

"Brother, I am trying to talk father into returning you to normal once you've served for your crimes. I am hopeful enough, as he seems to be nearly willing to return your memories," Thor said carefully before adding, "He does love you as his son."

"Yes, of course he does."

* * *

Once Thor had gone, Loki lay himself against a wall and stared at his reflection. Simply waiting for the sun to set and his life as he knew it to come to an end. He tried convincing himself that it might be for the best, that if he had a fresh start, then perhaps he could simply return home. Those hopes didn't last long, because Loki knew he wouldn't be able to ever recover from Odin's lies and the burns they'd caused him. But what pained him the most was the prospect of letting go – and against his will. Not only would he forget his true lineage, but he would lose the childhood that had he had belonged in. Before the throne or the frost giants were ever more than simple hopes and stories. He had to lose it all, and that was what sent him retreating into the depths of his mind, choking on his very breath as he recalled Frigga, Odin, and Thor showering him with all the love in the world. Certainly a better life than he could have ever hoped to have if he'd grown up as Laufey's son. He only wish it could have lasted longer.


	2. Hello, New World

**A Note to the Reader: **Thanks to all who read the first chapter! I _really_ appreciate it! There's plenty more where that came from...In fact, I've got a lot of surprises lined up for you guys, and I'm just bursting at the seams with excitement to hear what you think. So if you've got the time, send me a review! Any critique is really helpful. I want this story to be as fun for you to read as it is for me to write, so tell me what I'm doing wrong. I'll even respond to them at the end of every chapter~

* * *

"Thor, you know I cannot make false promises to him like that," Odin began, his irritation evident in his tone, "You saw how he reacted yesterday, did you not? He thinks already that we are barely worthy of what little trust he can offer. Why should I endanger what is left for a promise that might undo any progress he might make?"

"Because, father," Thor countered, "He deserves the rights any other Asgardian would just as readily receive."

"Any _other_ Asgardian would be dead."

"Please, at least consider my words while he is away. The changes he makes on earth will not be undone if his memory is returned. He is capable of changing himself, just as I did in my banishment."

"Your case was considerably different than his. I don't want to hear another word on the subject, Thor. Now is the time to summon Loki so that we can end this messy business."

Odin summoned a handful of guards to the front of the throne, where he commanded them to retrieve Loki from his cell for the last time. Thor swallowed hard and watched them leave, hoping that Loki would be more cooperative this time, or at the very least, more stable than he was the night before. He'd seen his little brother weep over several stressful occasions, all of matters dear to the young god's heart, but Thor had plenty of reason to believe that the decision made yesterday might have broken that already bruised heart. Thor could only hope that whatever damage had been done to the poor man's mind was reversible. He had confidence in sending him to earth, knowing that Loki would do well there, judging by what he'd seen in Jotunheim. Loki was not of a black mind or heart, as was obvious, and maybe if Odin saw that they could all be a family once again.

* * *

Loki looked up sullenly as the door opened again, his eyes heavy with a lack of sleep, his back sore from slouching against the same wall for the entire night. He had wished to speak to Thor again before the banishment, but he knew that his brother was probably still negotiating with Odin on his behalf. It made Loki's heart even heavier to imagine it, an image that before filled him with spite, now making his throat tighten and a small sad smile cross his face. He imagined what might be said as two guards lifted him and restrained him, once again, and led him quietly down the winding corridors. Loki kept his eyes closed the entire time, already exhausted from the lack of sleep. He fell out of step a few times, earning an angry sigh or a discontent grumble from the guards as they corrected his walking, even catching him a few times as he nearly fell going up or down stairs. Once they'd finally reached the throne room, Loki's knees were shaking, his shins were sore and the guards were nearly holding him up by the shoulders.

He looked up at Odin, Frigga, and Thor through his tired eyes and smiled at his mother and brother, bid them good morning as if it were any other day, and then turned his full attention to Odin, who seemed entirely unfazed about everything. Loki felt the guards walk away and they took their restraints with them, which meant it was almost certainly time for the banishment. The only positive thought to come to Loki's mind was that at least there was no one but the four of them to witness it.

"Loki Laufeyson, you have nearly destroyed one realm, and had the intent to enslave another. You've endangered your family, the citizens of Asgard, and everyone you have ever come into contact with. You are unfit for the powers you possess, you are unwelcome in your own realm, and you have no place in a world of peace. You must pay for your crimes. I take from you now you powers, your magics, and your rank," Odin's words became labored but fierce as he spoke, an odd combination that Loki took as a sign of age and weakness, "In the name of my father, and his father before, I Odin Allfather _cast you out_!"

Loki was only half-listening to Odin's words, but as his father spoke he could feel himself weakening further, a force which nearly had him on his knees. But before he could sink any farther, the intense feeling of being yanked by the collar backwards through time and space and a black hole seized him. He couldn't tell if it was like being pushed backwards or being dragged away. Whichever description was more accurate, it didn't make the experience any more comfortable to identify it with a name. When it had finally ended, Loki was experiencing something akin to jet lag and jumping out of a plane. He didn't even realize his face was in the mud as he pulled himself up, as much as he would rather lay there, and wiped his face off. Once he'd finished, he peered down at the rest of him and sighed. He was filthy from head to toe.

"Should we get him a shower, first, or what?"

"I dunno, but I can smell him from here. Go ask Fury or something."

"Boys, we haven't got time for this. Fury has already said that we need to bring him in immediately."

"Alright, we know. No reason to be so uptight – just having a little fun..."

Loki jumped at the first voice and looked up, and he was met with a familiar sight. Each Avenger was hovering over him, and Agent Barton was even holding up the front again, at the ready to loose an arrow should Loki make a false move. The exiled Asgardian raised his hands slightly and a brow, watching all of them converse. Then he realized he hadn't a chance to bathe since their battle and he rolled his eyes.

"It's nice to see you all without your costumes." He remarked sullenly.

"Yeah, and it's about time we get you out of yours." Tony spat with a sarcastic wink. Loki shrunk back like an offended cat and recovered with a sneer.

"Sorry to disappoint, Stark, but I'm not inclined to undress in front of you." Loki muttered with a glare as Tony made a face and laughed.

"Right, because I can hardly wait to see your scrawny ass in a hospital gown. Clint tells me that your brother didn't look so hot in one, so I can't wait to see how you'll do."

"Tony, that's enough. We need to take him in, _now_," Natasha said, obviously trying to suppress a smile.

Loki was happy to be led away from the scene without being cuffed or whatever else the humans were capable of, but it didn't make him any calmer to be in the middle of the five avengers, who had no doubt but assembled just for this occasion. The only thing that would have made the horrible situation any better was if the sixth avenger – his own brother, – could be there as well. At least the avengers were slower than the guards, and much easier to keep up with. That didn't brighten Loki's mood much, however, as tired as he was being led about like a common prisoner. It almost hurt when he realized that he _was, _at least to these fools, nothing more than a war criminal.

"I can see that whole 'ultimate power' deal didn't work out so hot for you," Fury called from the entrance to a large black building with many windows. Loki laughed loud enough for him to hear.

"I suppose it didn't work out so well for you, either, Director Fury!"

"Yeah, well, at least I'm not the guy that gets to wear the dress."

"I keep hearing about that. I wish you'd tell me something," Loki called back as they approached the door.

"It's all part of the deal. We missed you so much that we thought we'd bring you back, _Reindeer_ _Games," _Fury murmured with a glance in Tony's direction, as if feeding him a stern reminder, "But to wipe your metaphorical slate clean, we gotta check you in to our base's hospital. Any questions?"

"Yes, just one and a request," Loki replied with a laugh, "Why the dress?"

"Protocol." Fury said with a shrug, and the avengers fell back behind Loki as the Director and the former god of mischief walked toe-to-toe.

"Ah. I'll take that magazine, then."

"Will do." Fury remarked sarcastically, leading Loki into his hospital room and showing him to the rather uncomfortable bed on which a small green gown lay.

* * *

Once he had washed the mud off his face, and with much difficulty, Loki had undressed and tied the gown behind his back. There was a mirror behind his bed which he used to see the backside of which the faintest sliver of his entire backside was visible. He groaned audibly and tried to pull the gown tighter in the back, but a knock at the door came and he immediately jumped into the bed for cover. Without any permission, two familiar blonde figures stepped into the clean white room.

"Captain America and the Mighty Thor," Loki breathed sarcastically, "It's great to see you two again,"

"Yeah you, too. The gown matches your eyes, by the way," Steve remarked, dropping his armful on the foot of Loki's bed. "Brought you that magazine."

Loki raised a brow and said, "I was merely joking."

"I figured," Steve sighed, disliking the assumption that everyone met that he was incompetent, "But I think this is his jab back," He finished, picking the magazine back up and dropping it with a _slap _on Loki's chest. He picked it up and examined the words at the top. _Cosmopolitan._ Loki would have snickered if he'd known what the word meant. Cap read the confusion on his face.

"Hey, don't ask me. All I know is that there's a drink with the same name," He muttered out of spite, remembering the time Tony had ordered him one.

"'How to make any man better _in bed_'?" Loki asked, furrowing his brow, "What are you trying to tell me, Rogers?" He murmured, waggling his brow. He didn't know a lot of human jargon, but judging that the rest of the cover was about intercourse, the meaning of the title was obvious. Rogers gave him a disgusted look and pulled the clothes out from under the magazine.

"Just look through these. Keep whatever you want, most of it's Tony's old stuff."

Then Thor finally stepped forward, holding a hanger with a suit wrapped in plastic dangling off it, "For after the procedure," He muttered and hung it up in the small wall closet provided across the room. Loki passed him a knowing look and mulled over the pile of tops and bottoms. He picked out what looked the best to him and dumped the rest back on the bed, holding the favorites out to Steve. The captain sighed and took them, dropping them at the bottom of the closet. It was already completely obvious that Steve Rogers did not like the plan of having Loki back.

"It was nice seeing you, captain," Loki called as Steve turned to leave, although he received no answer. He became pensive once again as Thor pulled a chair next to the bed and stared at his little brother. The thunder god's expression was a mixture of exhaustion and barely-readable pain, but Loki knew him well enough to know that the pained look was caused by guilt.

"I'm not angry with you, if that's what you were wondering."

"You aren't?" Thor asked, perking up immediately.

"How could I be? You have saved my life, Thor, and I am grateful." Loki said through his teeth, lying in every word. Of course he was angry. But not at Thor. "I just wish I could remember to do something for you in the future to repay the debt."

"All you have to do is finish your sentence and I will be the happiest being alive. I just want you to come _home_," Thor sighed wistfully, a small smile breaking through his worried expression. The room was silent for a few moments before Thor continued, "They're going to give you seven injections, brother."

Loki jumped at the mere words, "Injections? With a needle?"

"Yes. The medicine they're using to erase your memory will be a little painful for a time, and it will leave red bruises, but I will be here with you until the sixth is administered," Thor promised, resting a large hand on Loki's shoulder.

"How bad will it hurt?"

"I asked Director Fury, and he has said that the first injection hurts the most, but they will only give these injections once per five minutes. You have his permission to scream as loud as you would like, also."

Loki ran a hand through his hair and closed his tired eyes, "When does this start?"

"...Very soon."

The door swung open just as Loki was saying, "_How _soon?"

And Tony Stark answered, "Right now's 'how soon'."

* * *

**Review Responses!**

_Guest: _Thank you so much for being my first reviewer! But you should seriously consider writing your own version of the events – I'd read it! Don't let everyone else and I stop you. We're all here to offer our own stories and interpretations! But thank you so much, again, for the wonderful compliments!


	3. Remember that One Time?

**A Note to the Reader: **Thank you all so, so much for reading and reviewing! I am so happy every time I see them, and it just never fails to make me more confident in this story. I truly hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Loki watched as Tony Stark entered his room, a suitcase in hand. The lack of privacy was beginning to annoy the former god, but he decided to say nothing as he'd probably not be bothered for much longer. After Stark, a young nurse entered the room wearing a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. She had brunette curls and stormy eyes, and Loki decided to focus on her and Thor over Stark and the pain he knew he was imminent of the injections. The nurse didn't say a word to Loki as she checked his pulse with two fingers and then wrapped a small plastic cuff around his upper arm which applied pressure before deflating.

"What's all this about, ma'am?" Loki asked, nearly forgetting to address her politely, "I thought I was only receiving injections."

"You are, hon, but we need to get those vitals, ya know." When Loki's expression didn't change, she waved a hand at him and popped a bubble with her chewing gum, "Don't you worry, I've got plenty'a experience under my little belt, if I do say so myself."

"That you do, nurse." Tony said, jumping into the conversation and wrapping an arm around the nurse's shoulders. "This is Emily Evans, and she has been with us for quite a while. She even had my stitches from the battle sewn in fifteen minutes flat. A brilliant woman of the medical field, if I do say so, myself."

"Why, thank you very much Mr. Stark," She said, shrugging his arm off and patting at his face with a smile, "But we've got business to attend to now, haven't we?"

"That we have, nurse Evans," Stark said, getting serious, "Would you by any chance be ready for the syringes?"

"Not quite yet, sweetheart," Emily cooed and sat on the edge of Loki's bed, taking his arm and examining it for veins, "But in five minutes or less I do think I will be."

"Now what are you doing?" Loki asked curiously, watching as she laid his left arm on a nearby armrest and began digging through a classic black medical bag. What she pulled out made Loki jump. Two belt-like straps were procured and she was ready to apply the to his arm. Loki looked from Thor to Stark and back to the Nurse. Thor put a strong hand on Loki's shoulder as if to say 'I've been there,' and Stark gave him a knowing look, as well.

"Hon, this injection is a little...Well, it's gonna hurt. Quite a bit, to be blunt," She said, sobering up now, "And I would prefer if you didn't thrash about that arm while I'm trying to do my job. Can you promise me you won't send those other three appendages flying at me?"

"Of course miss, but...Is all this really necessary?"

"Why, I wouldn't be here if it weren't. Don't worry, hon, Fury chose me for this specifically. I'll take good care of ya."

Loki only nodded and looked up to the right at Thor, who gave him a shaky smile.

"Be strong, brother."

_Easy for you and your ridiculous muscle mass to say, _Loki thought with an inward scoff and clenched his left hand into a tight fist as his arm was strapped to the thin rest. He took his breaths through the nose and out the mouth, calming himself for the needle he knew was coming. As Nurse Evans dabbed at the crook of his elbow with a small white alcoholic pad, Loki threw his head upward and stared at Thor.

"Brother, do you remember when I cut off all of Sif's hair?"

Thor let out a hearty laugh as Stark handed Nurse Evans a rather large glass syringe, "How could I ever forget? She came crying to me at least a thousand times begging me for her precious hair back when I had no way to give it to her!" Thor paused for a second, eager for something to think of to distract Loki, "I remember when she gave you a kiss for giving her hair more glorious than her golden locks before them, although they eventually turned as black as your own."

Somewhere in the beginning of that sentence, Nurse Evens had poked through Loki's skin with the needle, causing him to flinch, but he smiled at Thor's words as the stopper on the syringe was pushed downward.

"She is an excellent kisser. You should look into that, by the way, I think she could use it."

"I would have if I'd known she had any liking for me," Thor replied, surprised.

"Oh, you must be blind, brother! She fancies after you day and night! She is too terribly jealous of Jane t-" Loki let out a hiss as the needle was pulled out of his skin, and that is where the real pain began. First he had black spots swimming before his eyes, then he could feel waves of heat rippling through his arm to his chest, making every breath one full of fire and pain. Although he was shaking from the mere force, he refused to let it come between he and Thor's last conversation.

"Thor, - listen. I need you to go to J-Jotunheim for me. When this is over. Whenever." He added, laying his head back and shutting his eyes tight to try and cope with the immense pain flitting through his every vein. "I need you to make sure...That the little family, you know the one I mean, that they will be okay. Please do this for me, Thor."

Because Loki sounded as though he were begging, Thor eagerly nodded, leaned forward, and said, "Of course, brother, I know whom you are speaking of, and I will do whatever is in my power to make sure they are safe." Thor paused for a moment and looked over his brother, "You are so strong to be holding off this pain, brother, but you mustn't hold it back for me. Please, let out all of what you are holding in!"

And so Loki let out the shuddering breath he'd been holding and all at once he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling light while his free hand fluttered about blindly until it found Thor's, and he held on for dear life. Thor blinked in surprise, but didn't relinquish the grasp, but instead squeezed back and watched his as his brother began gasping for air, because every breath the poor man took was too quickly wasted on half-screams.

With immense effort, Loki tilted his head and gasped, "Keep talking...About the old things."

Thor only nodded, happy to have a method of comforting his younger brother. He scooted the chair closer and raked his mind for things to talk about.

"I talked to your daughter, Hel, before we left. She is growing up strong. I can still remember when she was born to you and Angrboda. You would be so proud of her now, brother. Remember when you were allowed to name her realm after her? Or when she made Odin those two ravens? In fact, if I'm not mistaken, it's those very ravens that have been watching us for quite some time, brother! I miss the days of old when we were allowed our own secrets, although you kept them better than I, and our own adventures! I still remember to this day when you met Lady Sif and the Warriors Three for the first time. They all thought me mad to be so close to you, that you tricked us all so cleverly and spared none of us from your sharp tongue, but those days will always be closest to me, brother. You were so happy, then, that it pains me to see you this way now. I wish I had known certain things earlier, I wish I had been strong enough to keep our family together in some of those trying times that led us here."

Thor paused and looked closely at the other. There were tears in Loki's blue eyes, but he was staring intently up at his brother, obviously hanging onto each and every word. Each time he struggled for a breath, it came out as a half-gasp, half-groan, half-scream. Thor looked around the room for help, but Tony had his back to them and the nurse had her head bowed with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Thor felt an anger rise up in him, a sort of burning motivation. He lowered his face to Loki's level and squeezed his brother's hand even tighter for his attention.

"Brother, I swear, I will fix this for us somehow. If you are unable to return home with or without your memories, then I promise that I will find you and we will spend our days here, and I will introduce you to Jane's friend, Darcy, and you two will either become the best of friends or the worst of enemies, but no matter what, brother, I will be here for you, even if I cannot be here _with _you."

Loki gasped out a single sob, but did not weep. He was clearly frustrated by his inability to respond to his brother, to tell him not to throw away his life on Asgard for just him, but he knew that no words, no quicksilver lies, would get to Thor, anyway. He watched as the second injection was prepared and he threw his head back onto the pillow and began breathing sharply. No one spoke, at first, as Thor recovered himself. Then Tony took a step forward.

"Listen, kid, I don't know if you're as bad or as good as I keep hearing, but I think _you're _the one with heart. It isn't all bad here, you know, even though most of us are batshit insane," Tony paused for a moment and titled his head, "In fact, I think you'll fit right in...As for losing your memories, it's a tough break, but hey, you're lucky for the fresh start. I know a lot of the guys here have a lot of things they'd like to forget."

Loki simply stared at him through his reddened eyes with an expression that said _Thank you, _as the second dosage was administered. And that is where the real screaming began. Loki couldn't even as much as cover his mouth, but he doubted he could keep that up for long, anyway. At first the it started out as low rumbling in his throat, but then it turned into a full, continuing scream. Tears would occasionally choke him off, but he would always continue. It wasn't until Thor's stories began again during the third injection that he finally stopped altogether with the screaming.

"...Or that time we explored the caves beneath that large tree outside the city, that was quite the adventure! I even recall bringing Fandral with me, as I believe we'd met him on our way. Father was not at all pleased to hear of this little adventure, but I think he was also pleased to hear that we had slain a beast at such a young age. And Fandral and I wouldn't have been able to do it without your cunning skills of distraction and your swift ability to pinpoint the beast's exact location of weakness! You were so brave, just as you are being now."

The injections continued, and so did Thor's stories. Tony and nurse Evans even made a few inquiries after they became more comfortable with the conversation, and Loki was happy to hear them all talk. It was before the fifth injection that Loki's vision was beginning to fail him when he couldn't keep his eyelids open. He looked exhaustedly up at Thor for the last time, smiling at him through the pain.

"Brother, no matter what I have said in my anger, the days I have spent with you were always the best of my life," Loki breathed before he became limp in unconsciousness moments before Thor could reply. The nurse told the upset god that it was to be expected, as the injections were a huge strain for Loki, not only physically, but mentally as it broke down memories. Thor was ordered to leave before the last injection, however, and before he left he brushed Loki's matted hair away from his forehead and planted a kiss there. Thor seemed to be tearing up himself, as though he were attending a funeral, for afterward he immediately left the room with a hand covering the entire lower half of his face. Tony and Evans watched him go before administering the final injection and Tony filed out of the room with his empty syringes provided by his own company in his suitcase. Evans took from her black medical bag a small white bracelet that all hospitals administered and applied it to Loki's wrist after removing the restraints from his arms. She looked over his unconscious figure once over with a pained expression on her own face. Before carrying on and leaving the room, she checked the bracelet for the man's new name which was printed on the white band in all-capital letters; JAMES COSTA. She finally turned to go and flicked out the light out behind her, leaving James Costa to his fevered dreams.

* * *

**Review Responses!**

**Guest2: **Oh, thank you for such a deep insight! I really do appreciate that you've interpreted my story just as I was aiming for you to. Your review gave me confidence where I became frustrated, so thank you!

**Guest3: **I knoooow, me too ;A;

**Spartapuss: **Don't you mean...ANOTHER. Coming right up!


	4. Wake Up, Now

**A Note to the Reader: **I'm so sorry for the delay! I tried to make this one long to make up for it, so I hope it's worth the wait. And thank you for the lovely reviews while you waited! I'm sorry if you find that the quality is lacking towards the end – I've gotten very frustrated with writing and re-writing this chapter at least six times. But I hope you stick through the whole chapter, because I'm much more ecstatic for the next one!

* * *

Thor had been back for a couple days, unable to bear being on earth without Loki or Jane to talk to. At least, he comforted himself, he had Frigga and Odin - not to mention Lady Sif and the Warrior's Three! - back home. He hadn't done much visiting in his time home. Mostly he spent his time in Loki's former chambers, in the caves they explored as children, and in his brother's other favorite hiding places. He also had intended to visit Jotunheim, but he'd decided against it after finding a new resolve to finally confront Frigga. Before he did so, however, he'd wanted to look over his homeland at least once more.

With all his worries in mind, Thor stepped onto the tallest tower he could find. He took a shaky step towards the balcony and looked down at the land he called home. The place he would protect no matter what, from no matter the threat. Even if that supposed threat was his little brother, he had the duty as Prince to keep Asgard, and Earth, safe. Thousands of thoughts were flitting about in Thor's mind, leaving no room to appreciate the view below him. When a raven flying by caught his attention, he simply glared at it and looked back down. For the first time, the thought of jumping occurred to him. Of course, from this height, it wouldn't kill him. In fact, he doubted even a broken limb. Probably a few bruises, and if he hit something sharp on his way down, a nice scar.

Thor shook his head and took a step backwards, stopping the unintentional thoughts and exiting the balcony for his own safety. As he shuffled his feet across the marble floors of his home, slowly leading himself to the library, he could hear fanfares and cheering from outside. Why should _anyone _be celebrating? Shouldn't they all be mourning? It hurt Thor to return home without his brother, but it hurt him even more to see his people rejoice the absence of Loki. He couldn't understand what they hated about him – surely they didn't know of his true lineage. And even then, was he so hard to accept? He was simply another living thing, worthy of dignity and respect simply for being alive, but it seemed that every time Thor turned around Loki was being hurt in some terribly inhumane way that Thor simply could not stop. The thoughts made Thor bitter and a sense of dread and loathing filled him every time he looked out a window at the festivities.

"Thor? What is the matter?" A calm voice asked, sweeping through Thor's troubled mind. It was Frigga, calling him from the library. When Thor turned to her, she seemed worried, but he smiled for her. He smiled because he couldn't handle his mother, of all people, worrying for the wrong person again. "Please, come sit with me, child."

Thor did so, taking a seat on the luxurious stuffed sofa with his mother, after moving a tall stack of books. They were about the Frost Giant lore, Thor noted, but not of nightmare tales meant to scare children. No, the books Frigga was reading were of the rare variety about a Frost Giant's home life in ancient times. Thor gave his mother a weak smile after looking at the books, a look she returned with a piteous frown and draped her thin arms around her son. Thor returned the embrace, taking in the tranquility that his mother had to offered. Instead of focusing on painful thoughts, he simply forced himself to think on the scents of her various perfumes. Jasmines and Lavenders replaced the thoughts of his fellow Asgardians enjoying Loki's absence, Roses and Citrus took away the anger towards his father, and whatever his mind couldn't change, Frigga's very presence seemed to work away.

"Please, Thor, you must let me in, so tell me everything you are worrying about tonight."

"I worry for Loki. I cannot visit him now, cannot even _see _my brother, and he is alone on earth. I suppose it isn't a matter of trust for the Avengers Initiative, but I simply don't know if they can contain his mind. Mother, I do not think anything good will come of his banishment – _especially_ of this memory loss business. This was all a horrible idea, and I know he will suffer for it. Hasn't he been hurt enough at our hands? Oh, mother, what can I do to help my exiled brother?" Thor cried, shaking with intent and something borderlining and anxious rage. Not because of anything Odin did, or anything Frigga could have prevented, but for his own follies. He helped convince Odin of the banishment, of the memory loss instead of a beheading or of having his brother's lips sewn. At least the two punishments underway now were temporary – the two Odin had intended were painful and tortuously permanent. But Thor still couldn't help but feel at fault for Loki's painful sentence. Frigga seemed to read into all of this.

"Thor, you mustn't blame yourself for this entire matter. While Loki needed punishment, at your hands he received the safest possible. I know that he will return to us, and I have hopes that he will be a better person, like you were after you came home. I also believe that, without the memory loss, Loki would have fought everyone every inch of the way through earth. You surely know this, Thor. Everything we have done up to this point, while painful for all of us, is for Loki's best interest. When he returns, surely everything will make much more sense."

Thor simply stared at his mother with a look of gratitude and some small remaining sadness that was easily drained by a second embrace. After they talked for several hours more, Thor sauntered off to his own room. He'd lost a couple nights' sleep over Loki's situation, and he decided to get them back before he returned to earth. But not only would he return – he had a plan. A plan to set his brother free.

* * *

Michael had never intended for any of it to happen, but he had always had trouble with flying into bouts of rage. And when he'd told his friend to go ahead and jump, he hadn't meant it, of course, but the other boy was so distraught that the words had obviously stricken a chord. So after his friend, Will, had thrown his phone of the side of a half-collapsed building, Michael immediately went into a state of horrible anxiety attacks for several minutes. He ran to the foot of the building that Will was at and screamed as loudly as his throat and lungs would let him. He knew Will could hear his cries, so Michael took a chance and darted inside the dilapidated building in search of a stairwell. Once he'd found it, pleased that almost no damage had occurred to it, he immediately began climbing. He took the staircases three stairs at a time. Michael had always been athletic, but even for someone trained, twenty-four flights of stairs was an exhausting endeavor. But once he had reached the top, Michael was relieved and out of breath to find Will still standing on the ledge. He'd arrived in time to talk him back down.

"Will, please," He panted, pulling at his sweat-soaked shirt, "You're worth more than this."

"Not according to you," Will choked out coldly, not even turning his back to look at his friend.

But Michael kept stepping closer. He kept talking, talking about the childhood they'd shared, about the stupid things they'd done, about the girls they chased, and about how well they survived the attack together. Who knew what else they could take on? Maybe they were both meant for bigger and better things than Manhattan.

"You sound like one of those self-help books," Will said quietly, and Michael laughed a little knowing it was an attempt at humor.

"Listen, I know it sounds cheesy now," He murmured, putting a hand on Will's shoulder, "But we're all we have now, okay? We can make things better for each other, with each other."

He recognized his mistake as soon as he'd made it, and he watched Will's face go red as he looked away.

"Yeah, that sounds just like you. Well, what if I don't want to spend the rest of my life with you?"

"Wouldn't you technically be spending your life with me if you jumped right now?"

"Go to hell, Michael."

But before Will could even turn back to face the ledge Michael had spent hours talking his down from, Michael tackled his old friend to the ground. Will struggled like a wild beast, but Michael had always been stronger. The younger of the two seemed hell-bent on getting over the ledge, even so much as clawing at Michael to get back to it, but the older boy simply hung onto his best friend in a tight embrace. After they were both exhausted, they sat on the roof sobbing and shaking.

"I just don't want to do this anymore, man."

"I kn-know, I don't either," Michael confessed, looking down, "If you jumped, I would go, too,"

Both of them sobbed and clung to each other, but only one of them seemed to hold onto hope for the future. Michael led Will back down the stairwell into the nearest room to them and sat him down. They had to be careful to avoid a crackling outlet, since neither of them knew anything about electricity. After Will got comfortable, Michael retreated into the back rooms looking for food. He was only gone for about ten minutes when a horrible crackle and a heavy _thud, _filled the office building. Then there was dead silence. Michael's knees began shaking because he was already fearing the worst. How stupid did he have to be to take his suicidal friend to a room full of outlets and metal scraps?

Once Michael had finally gotten the courage to step back outside, he immediately regretted it. There, laying on the floor, was his best friend. There were burn marks up his arm and he was still clutching a tiny, warped piece of metal from the floor. He looked over the body of his friend with tears in his eyes, taking in every aspect of the you boy's appearance. His thin coppery blonde hair, the pronounced cheekbones that had gotten him more than enough attention from the opposite sex, the wide-open green eyes and the tanned skin that, despite its blemishes, was softer than some girls' Michael had known. The broken young man kneeled next to his gone friend and gathered him in his arms and began sobbing like a wretched fool. Over and over again he repeated two apologies, "I loved you, man," and "I'm here, I'm here,"

And Michael stayed there, in that way, for several hours.

* * *

"Hey, big guy, it's time to wake up."

At the touch on his shoulder, and not at the words, the former god formerly known as Loki Laufeyson was jolted awake. His wild green-blue eyes flitted everywhere, from the blinding fluorescent lights, to Tony Stark's face, to the door, and then to his arms, which refused to move. He began panicking and his breathing quickened, and Tony seemed more disappointed or disgruntled than concerned by the situation.

"Hey, calm down, Costa. Now's not the time for that, all right? They sent me in here for a reason," Stark said with a sigh, Costa noted.

"Costa? Wha-?"

"That's your _name._ We all get one, you see, and mine's Tony. Remember how that works, now?"

"I don't really, I think...I think I've forgotten," Costa muttered, still trying to move his arms, avoiding eye contact with Tony. He was more mesmerized by the red splotches on his forearms, anyway. Tony ran his palm over his face and took a few deep breaths, and while he composed himself, Costa smiled as he managed to hover his arm over the hospital bed. Then he had to do a double-take. Hospital bed?

"Tony, why am I in a hospital?" He asked calmly, taking deep breaths through the nose and out the mouth.

"How should I know? Barton's the one that found you knocked back on your ass during the attack."

"Barton? Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Oh, I see how it is," Tony scoffed, "You remember the guy with scrambled eggs, yet you forget the great Tony Stark."

"Scrambled...?"

"You know, he's like part bird or whatever, and Tasha...?" Tony said with a expectant gaze, hoping Loki would get his joke, but his attempt failed and his face fell a little, "Forget about it. We have more important stuff to go over, anyway."

"Important? Like what?"

"Like you getting back to work as an Agent. Since you can't even remember your last name, let me give you the basics. You work in the field as search and recovery. You've done great work or something, so SHIELD wants you back now. Are you up for it?"

"I...Suppose?" Costa answered, feeling as though he was being pulled about by the arm. His head was spinning in confusion. Thoughts were bouncing off the very walls of his mind. Why couldn't he even remember his own name, what was SHIELD, what kind of work did he just agree to, why was Tony Stark so familiar-looking, who was Barton, and why the _hell _were his arms the only injuries he'd sustained to land him in the hospital in the first place? Costa sat up as Tony got up to leave.

"Where are you going?" He asked tentatively, trying to lift his arms again. Stark gave him a glance that borderlined pity, maybe a little contempt. The look was too quick to really tell. Tony merely shook his head and strode towards the door.

"Once your arms are better," He nodded at James Costa's pitiful attempts to lift his them, "You'll go back to work. Sound good?"

Costa could only nod.

"Great."

* * *

"Why do _I _have to babysit, huh? He isn't my responsibility!"

"You were the last person in the room with him, Stark, so you're the one that'll be able to tell the best if he'd remembered anything. And," Fury said, barreling over Tony, who'd opened his mouth to reply, "If he _does _remember anything, you're to report your ass to me and tell me all about it. _Otherwise, _I want you reporting back to Agent _Costa _every hour on the hour. Who the hell chose his name, anyway?"

No one in the room raised their hands, so Agent Hill spoke up, "I think Coulson did, sir."

"Speaking of which, where did he get off to?"

"There was a reported suicide downtown, and he went to investigate. Apparently one of the families we've been keeping tabs on died out without us finding them first. Their kid just couldn't handle it. That's all the info we have now."

"Tell Coulson to get back here. Loki's in better shape to check it out, anyway."

And with that, Fury swept away in the sulking manner he was renowned for, leaving Stark and Agent Hill to argue over who had to check up on the patient next. After a quick coin toss, the 'heads' side determined that it would be none other than Tony Stark.

* * *

James Costa looked about his room. On the bedside tables there were no stuffed animals, no flowers, not even a card. Did that mean he had no real friends, or did they die in the attack that Stark had told him about? Apparently he had co-workers, but none of them cared enough to send him anything, either. To Costa, that just didn't add up. In fact, nothing made sense to him. He couldn't recognize anything but a handful of people, including Stark and Barton, and he had no reason to be in a hospital besides his arms. They were bruised and splotchy, still, but the red raised lumps were in an almost-perfectly straight line. At least, he thought, he could move them easily now.

Costa looked up in surprise as Stark re-entered the room after an hour and a half. He decided to just pop the question, "Why are all of you lying to me, Stark?"

Tony was a bit taken aback by the question. They all figured that Loki would get it sooner or later, but none of them expected him to guess on the first day. Tony's hand carefully spidered down to a small recording device in his pocket and he pressed the button he knew so well.

"What do you mean, Costa?"

"I know that most of what you're telling me isn't true. 'Costa' isn't even my real name, is it?" Sudden contempt flashed in Loki's face, "And these marks on my arms – you did this to me, didn't you?"

Tony had no ready answer, aside from a raised brow.

"_Answer me!"_ Loki cried, standing now, looking ready to attack. But Tony only gave him a sad look. A sudden piercing pain erupted in Loki's jaw, sending shockwaves down his spine and back into his mind. He doubled over for a moment, holding his head in one hand. A sudden thought occurred to him – he recognized that look, the look on Tony's face. But there was something else that was supposed to go along with it. Some words, perhaps, but Loki couldn't place his finger on it.

"Sit down and I'll tell you what's going on," Tony said with a sigh, motioning for the bed, "But so help me, if you tell anyone else I told you this, I will blast you through the walls." Loki only nodded in response, his expression still fierce.

"Your real name is Loki. You killed a lot of people in just two and a half weeks. We wiped your memory because we need your help, but we couldn't have you attacking again. The reason you remember some of us is because we're the Avengers. We caught you and everything. Is that good enough, or would you rather me get down your autobiography?"

Loki could only nod. So it _was_ all a lie. But more shocking than that was the idea, the mere possibility that he'd killed innocent people.

"How...Many are dead?" He asked, fearful of the truth.

"That's what your job is. That's what we need you to do – to find out how many lives you've lost us."

The harsh was that Stark put that made Loki fall back into the bed miserably. He didn't _recall _killing anyone in particular, but Stark was either a brilliant actor or very misinformed. While Loki would wish for the latter, he knew better than to hope for it. Although he had the truth now, he'd almost wished he'd never asked. Stark and Loki talked for a while about hiding the fact that Loki knew the truth, to which Loki agreed wholeheartedly, and the billionaire playboy philanthropist left the room finally, giving the former god plenty of time to switch from a mint-green gown into his own clothes. He'd have preferred to wear the black suit, but instead he chose something more...Replaceable, since Stark had told him to be ready to be sent into the field to look for missing persons. With a great shudder, Loki turned and left his room, flipping the lights before closing the door behind him.

* * *

**Review Responses!**

Wow, I got a lot!

_suckishLEMONADE: _Awww, thank you so much for sticking with me through these chapters! I'm glad you're so optimistic for it!

_MilkyWayGalaxy: _I hope so, too!

_Spartapuss:_Yesss, and here you go~

_Gurst: _Aw, shucks. Have a tissue ;o;

_Potkana: _Don't worry, things get better, I think! I'm actually aiming for him to retain the basic Loki-ness of his personality, if that makes any sense. I think he'd just be calmed down and a little more patient without them. Not to mention less bitter towards Thor and Odin.

_DraejonSoul: _I'm actually happy you brought that up! I think you'll find out in the next chapter.


	5. Please, Wake Up, Mom and Dad!

**A Note to the Reader: **_Auuuughhhh _I'm literally beating my head against my screen right now. As pointed out by Potkana, that smart little reviewer, I have made a mistake. As I've said, I've written the previous chapter _multiple _times. Unfortunately, part of what was left out was a conversation between Barton and Loki that explained to Loki why he had no visitors, and what the empty room meant. If you'd like, I can edit the chapter and add that in. It'll be kinda lopsided because I already left it out, but if you guys want it it, tell me in a Review! I'm so so so so sorry, it won't happen again!

LINE

There were sirens everywhere. Michael was still clinging to Will's body, sobbing into his best friend's chest. The paramedics and the field agents tried to pull them away at first, but Director Fury ordered them to wait until Agent Costa arrived to make the final decision. He also called back Agent Coulson, who was still healing from past injuries and was reprimanded for going into the field before officially being discharged from the care of the hospital. As Michael continued mourning the loss of his only friend by screaming and sobbing into his unmoving chest, Loki prepared to leave SHIELD headquarters and confront the boy as his first assignment. He already had a bulletproof vest on, a concealed weapon, as well as a sound chip so they could keep tabs on him while he was away. Loki was told that everyone carried these bugs, which was a lie, of course. And so Loki left behind the safety of the headquarters behind, and for the first time since losing his memory, he stepped out into his warzone. Buildings were collapsed everywhere, there were gigantic holes in buildings, and the most horrific of all – body outlines, not in tape, but in the black outlines left behind by explosions around a body, forever marking where a person had been welded to a wall by sudden extreme temperatures. Knowing he caused this, knowing he'd wanted this, it was all Loki could do to hide that knowledge from the others in the ambulance as they rode towards the scene. He didn't know what he would do when he was confronted with one of his own victims.

But he had no time to come up with plans, as they'd arrived at their destination in less than thirty minutes. A half hour spent on worrying and panic as they drove on half-cleared roads. He could hear helicopters and, if he was not mistaken, the horrible screech of a boy who had just lost one of the last people in his life. As Loki stepped out of the automobile, he couldn't suppress a cringe as another wail pierced the air around him. But, more than anything, Loki was numb as he ascended the stairwell. He had to wonder how many people around him knew what they were walking through, the rubble that they passed, if they knew that it was all his own fault. His knees felt weak, but he continued on, leading a small group of five other agents to the top floor where the boy, Michael, was holding his friend's body to him. Loki's poker face melted away immediately into the most hurt and pained face he'd ever made – or at least, from what he could recall.

"Get out of here, I can handle this," Loki assured the men as he walked towards the boy, waving them away. They all seemed hesitant to go, but Loki had no problem with being forceful since he didn't know a single one of them, "I said, _go now._"

After each guard had left, Loki crouched down next to Michael and stared sadly at Will's half-burnt body. Michael was still sobbing loudly, but at least the horrible screaming had stopped. Loki reached out a reassuring hand, but Michael made a disgruntled noise and turned his back to him.

"Michael, can you tell me about your friend?" Loki tried, although he'd be happier to leave Michael behind and never see him again because of what he did, because he'd caused the boy in his arms to die, "Can you tell me about what he's like?"

"He's _dead, _and I killed him, and now..." Michael took a deep, shuddering breath, "And now that's what I want, too." Loki's eyes widened and he put both his hands on Michael's shoulders and pulled him around to the front.

"You _can't _do that to yourself, Michael, you're stronger than that!"

"How would you know! I've never met you before in my life!"

"I know because you're alive _right now. _You're a survivor! You..." Loki swallowed, gaining his composure, "You've survived the attack and there's so much more for you now, we can help you, Michael!"

"I just want to _die,_" Michael begged back, not wanting to listen to reason. And for a moment, Loki thought _So do I, _but he shook his head and released Michael from his grip. "Please just let me go."

"I can't do that to you, Michael," Loki shook his head, "But I'm sorry this happened. I truly am. But I want to help you. Please just...Just give it one more go, alright?"

And for several minutes, they simply stared at each other. It was as if Michael were choosing between chocolate and vanilla instead of life and death. Loki hate every second of it, every breath he took that he knew Will, the limp child in Michael's arms, should have been sharing with them.

"If...If we find my parents, then I..." Michael paused and Loki grew hopeful, "Then I might stay."

"That's my job, Michael. Where did you last see them?" He asked, pulling out a small notebook and a pen, knowing he'd otehrwise forget the address. Michael told him the way to his apartment, which had been blocked off for quite a few days after the attack. Michael said that they had heard of people from the building still being alive, but until about a week ago, there was no way anyone could get inside. Much less a civilian.

"You have to take Will, don't you?"

"I'm so sorry, Michael..."

"Just don't let the others hold him. I don't like them, and he wouldn't, either. Please take good care of him for me..." And that was the last Loki saw of Michael before he was lead away into an ambulance by several guards. They ended up taking Will's body to a morgue to wait for Michael to fully identify him so that he could be buried 'with the others'. After leaving the foul place, Loki gathered himself into a helicopter and they were near the West Central Apartments in hardly any time at all. After finally landing on the ground, Loki nearly threw himself out of the copter, absolutely horrified with looking out over his destruction.

He stepped onto the cracked asphalt of the top of a hospital, where they were supposed to get a view of the apartment building less than a block away. Once Loki had seen it, he immediately rushed back downstairs and left the guards behind, and no one questioned him. They simply followed after him close behind. Loki wasn't aware that he'd been jogging until he was out of breath several buildings down. His heart was nearly in his throat and his head was bursting with thoughts and questions about him, about Michael, about the parents and Will, but mostly about what he would do if Michael's parents weren't in the building. But Loki pushed on, arriving finally at the complex. The front of which had broken pieces of a towering building next to it impaled in its windows and sides, but the other half of the building seemed unaffected. And so Loki squeezed past a small opening in the rubble and entered the apartments. Once he stepped inside, an overwhelming feeling of loss nearly swept him off his feet. It was so strange, the way the building was almost literally split down the middle after the attack. On the left, there was almost no damage to be seen. On the right, the wall was jagged with splintered glass and rubble and ruined plaster. Undetermined but frightened, Loki grabbed the stairwell's guardrail with a shaky hand and began his uneasy descent up them. After reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of paper, he realized with a pang of fear that Michael's apartments would be located to the _right_. Still hell-bent on discovering the truth, Loki climbed up the five levels and went down a hallway. Half of it seemed to be supported by the rubble that had torn it apart, but Loki was fearless in climbing around the holes in the floor. Once he reached apartment number six, his breathing became a nervous pant. But that was also when a horrible stench caught him. He refused to believe the worst, and instead kicked the door in. It took several tries, but once Loki gained access, he stepped inside.

He fell to his knees at the sight. Not only the sight, but the very lingering smell. Two skeletal-like bodies were on the ground, holding each other's hands. Loki covered his mouth and began backing away, unable to stop the flow of tears. He could already hear the others on their way up, but he couldn't stop himself from weeping for Michael's loss. When they finally arrived on his floor, Loki walked out red-faced and shaking his head. They knew better than to ask. Four people went in to retrieve the bodies and Loki immediately left to go to the hospital and see Michael. He had to have someone drive him, of course, but they had to stop a few times on the way so that Loki could open his door and double over so he could vomit. The other two of his co-workers didn't ask him to go into detail, and the ride was silent the whole way there, aside from Loki's occasional whimper or retching. The man was limp in his seat the entire ride, even when they reached SHIELD HQ, which was currently doubling as a hospital for Loki and Michael as well as several other important victims, Loki was unresponsive and sickly.

It wasn't until he was in the threshold of Michael's doorway that he spoke. Michael simply stared back up at him, his own young eyes red and puffy. Then Loki sat down on Michael's bed and they both sobbed together. Michael, for the loss of everyone he loved in the world, and Loki for Michael and the dozens of others like him that he knew he was going to meet. Once both of them were all cried out, Michael asked Loki how they looked.

"They were...They were holding hands and close together. They must have...Loved each other very much..."

"Th-they did. But they were strong, and I will b-be, too."

"That's brave of you, Michael, and I truly am proud," Loki said automatically, still lamenting that it was all his fault in the first place, "Things _will_ get better for you."

There was a short silence.

"How do you know?" Michael asked with genuine curiosity. Loki smiled sadly at him – it was as though a child had just asked him how he knew what two plus two equaled.

"Because they got better for me," Loki half-lied, "And because you deserve for things to get better."

What happened next would have made Loki want to sob harder if he wasn't already smiling. Michael had wrapped his arms around Loki and had his face buried in the man's upper right arm. He was murmuring apologies and thanks, but the black-haired adult merely shrugged him off and returned the thanks before getting back to his feet. He gathered up the same paper with Michael's address on it and scrawled out his own room number.

"Come visit me if you need anything. I might not always be there, but I'm here for you."

Speaking those very words made Loki's head hurt as he tried to remember where he'd heard them.

"Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

"James Costa," Loki said with a bitter taste in his mouth as he forced a smile and left the room. He ran the whole way down the halls to his own. Once he'd shut the door behind him, he was sliding down it into a sitting position, hugging his knees and trying to think. All he could remember was Stark. Had Stark given Loki permission to confide in him, or was that just a product of the memory loss? How was he supposed to tell which ones were fresh, and which ones were old? A part of him _knew _that there had been at least one other person in the room, perhaps with long brown hair, but he couldn't place them. Loki flung himself into his bed and waited for Stark to show up for the last time that evening so that he could go to sleep.

LINE

**Review Responses**

_Potkana: _Yeah, Loki's definitely got a lot of baggage to sift through if he ever wants to get all his memories back! I won't tell you yes or no whether or not he _does _get them back, but I have the end of this story set up so that I could decide either way I wanted. I like to do that with my plots – set up a few loose ends on purpose so that you can deal with them _as _you write. Unfortunately, that sometimes leads to mistakes like the one that you caught! I wish I'd had a Beta, which I might do for my next story, because I like to talk about my stories as I write them. But thank you so much for being kind in your review. As I previously explained, there was a few paragraphs that I'd left out of the previous chapter simply because they didn't fit like I'd hoped. In them, Barton explained in passing what the stuffed animals and cards meant, because he brought Loki one. If you'd like, I can add that back, just for you! I've been meaning to add the interaction with Loki and Clint, anyway, but the way it's working out they haven't had a chance, yet. Wow, that was long! I should give this response it's own chapter, ehehe.


	6. Sweet Dreams, Little One

**A Note to the Reader: **Thank you all for your loving support despite that little mistake. I'm going to add it as a bonus at the end of the story instead of editing it back into the previous one. Anyway! Hope you enjoy the chapter, folks!

* * *

"You know he's torn up about the kid, Barton." Tony spat in his frustration.

"That doesn't mean we need to take care of him. It _is _his fault, anyway, it's good for him to see what he's done." Clint spat back, picking up Stark's tone. The archer's eyes pierced Tony straight through like one of his arrows, as if to remind him that he was a victim of Loki, himself. That they all were. That maybe he _did _deserve it. But Tony just couldn't see it. As annoying as the puny god had been, he obviously felt guilt for what had happened.

"Listen to yourself, Barton, and tell me that that's not more inhumane than what he's done. Making everyone suffer isn't going to fix this," Tony was leaning in as he spoke, "Or do you just want him to suffer because of what he did, is that it? I thought you said you were _above _that. Tell me you don't think he's gone through enough. His own _family _kicked his ass to the curb. Not even Thor's here to help him. He's completely alone. You've had your mind stripped away from you, so why would you wish that on someone else?"

"That's on Thor – not me. He wanted a way to keep his brother safe, and I offered him the only thing I knew that would work. I probably saved that little prick's life. Just because I want him to pay for what he did to me, to everyone here, to everyone in _this city,_ doesn't make me the bad guy. You saw him, hell, you fought him! You know how merciless he can be, the monster he can be. I don't blame his parents, or even Thor, for not wanting anything to do with him!"

"You and I both know that Thor would do _anything _for him. You also know that you wanted Loki to suffer as long and hard as possible. Or did you want to break him, Barton, because that's what's about to happen unless we stop it," Tony paused, putting it together in his mind, "That's gotta be what happened to him last time, because when I talked to him, when Thor talked to him, I could _see _it."

Tony rammed his shoulder into Clint's as he passed him and half-ran down the hall to Loki's room. He knew rushing as he was wasn't exactly necessary, but Loki would be expecting him soon. So Tony Stark, proving once again that he had a heart, raced to save the man that had once threatened his life, as well as his friends' lives. Bruce's life. Steve's life. Natasha's life, even Clint's. He had promised horrible deaths, made obscene threats and used their weaknesses against them. Tony didn't know if he could ever let _that _go, but he reminded himself that Loki was just another living creature tormented to the breaking point. Or at least, that was all Tony had to hope for. If Loki was truly in a sane state of mind when he'd attacked Manhattan, then everything he was doing was wrong. Not only that, but Loki was doomed from the start. That would mean his inevitable execution. And Stark couldn't wish that on the former god, no matter how hard he'd tried for the past months. He knew that the fact Loki's memories were gone were pivotal to his mental transformation. Being forced to let go of whatever was hurting him would send him in the right direction for help, and as much as Tony Stark didn't want to be that help, he knew the job would fall on him, no matter what.

* * *

Clint had begun walking in the opposite direction, when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. Tony had forgotten about the bug. The tiny microphone that they'd put on Loki to keep him safe, as well as everyone else on his team, was still attached to the threads on Loki's shoulder. Luckily, Loki had done a good job of not exposing himself that entire day. Tony had confided in Bruce and Clint that Loki remembered a few details, and that no one had been hurt because of it yet. So far, Loki's personality change seemed to be caused by the loss of a specific memory and that, perhaps, proved he was not evil incarnate. He had the capacity to care for others he did not know, even though he had the opportunity to simply throw them away. Clint knew this, knew that Loki was changing for the better, but he'd wanted no part in any of it until now. Because he knew that if he didn't race after Tony _now, _then it would mean Loki would be exposed. That would put him one step closer to further banishment, or worse, execution. So Clint turned on his heel and ran after Tony, calling out his name as quietly as he could, so as not to rouse suspicion.

His feet took him faster than he'd thought they would, and within minutes he was in the threshold of Loki's door. Tony looked at him from his chair, and Loki sat straight up at the sight of Clint, who pressed a finger to his lips. He then made a gesture to Tony that made the billionaire's face whiten a shade. It meant 'bug' in a sort of hand-signing that Clint did with his fingers.

"Did you hear that?" Tony asked, covering up for the abrupt silence, should anyone be listening in on the conversation through the concealed microphone.

"I think someone let a cricket in," Loki said, catching on despite the fact that he didn't understand Clint's message right away.

"Those things are lucky, you know," Tony said with a grin, getting out of his chair and standing side-by-side with Clint. "I'm going to step out and let you change your clothes while I search for the _bug."_

And suddenly, as if a puzzle piece were found, it all clicked in Loki's mind – he was still wearing the sound chip! In a moment of panic, he raked his mind for anything incriminating he might have said. Luckily, Tony had only talked about Clint when he'd sat down, so there was little to worry about. Loki got up, unpinned the very small clip from the shoulder of his shirt, and handed it to Tony, who simply dropped it on the ground and stepped on it. He hoped that anyone listening got a headache from any loud noise that the crunching on the mic might create. Then he looked back up at Clint with gratitude on his face.

"Thanks for that. S'good to see that you've come around." Stark said with a smile and slapped Clint on the back.

Clint cracked a smile back and replied, "Who said I came around? I just don't wanna give him shots again." he muttered and slapped the back of Tony's shoulders.

"Hey, wasn't _I _the one that actually ended up doing that?"

"Weren't _you _the one that chose heads instead of tails?"

"Heads is the better side of the coin!"

"Yeah, but tails never fails."

Loki stepped forward with his head tilted in curiosity, "What are you talking about?" He asked in a quiet voice, a smile on his face as he watched the two men interact in a friendly manner. The way Tony had talked about Clint earlier, there had been a fight only moments beforre they both showed up, but they seemed to have patched everything up at that point. After Clint explained coinflipping to Loki, the former god let out a hearty laugh with the other two men, who simply chuckled. But for Loki, it was the first time he'd laughed in quite a while. After a few more jokes, Tony had the man climb back into bed, and as he took a seat, he couldn't help but feel like a parent tucking a kid in for the night.

"Do you wanna talk first, Mother Hen?" Tony asked Clint, a brow raised.

"I wouldn't know what to say." Clint replied in his solemn tone.

Loki rolled over the both of them and sat up straight in his bed, staring right at Clint, "Then I'll start. Why are you more familiar to me than Tony?"

"Because you and I were around each other the most during the Manhattan Attack," Clint said, trying to side-step the details as much as possible, "I was also the first one on the scene to capture you."

Loki could actually see it, for a moment. Clint in the front, wielding his bow and arrow with one deadly tip pointed straight for Loki's neck, Stark in towards the rear, but the others were much more of a blur. He couldn't seem to place Banner, a man he'd only met once or twice during his stay. He even recalled speaking of a drink, as if he were asking for one, but he couldn't quite understand why.

"I think I...I think that I remember that...!"

Clint and Tony looked at each other.

"You might start getting some of your memories back without our help, then," Tony said with a small fake smile, "What exactly do you remember?"

"I can recall seeing you two, but I can't quite remember where Banner was, or if he was there at all. There are a few others I know that were standing there, but I don't know who they are."

"That's fine – you really don't need to know, anyway. The others won't be visiting you quite as much," Clint interjected, pulling up a chair of his own, throwing Tony a scowl for taking the cushioned one.

"Listen, Loki, we need to talk about Michael," Tony sighed, and watched as the bedridden man's expression immediately broke from one of curiosity to one of intense pain. "I know you had your little breakdown already, but you're going to have to do that again tomorrow. You did great today and everything, but you can't cry for all of them."

"Why not?"

"Because there's just too...Many of them." Tony said with a slight hissing noise, realizing too late what he was saying could be very offensive to Loki. He knew that the man would have to face the whole truth eventually, but he didn't think ripping it like a band aid was the proper method in this particular case. Loki was, indeed, fragile and could easily revert to his past personality if Tony and Clint didn't do whatever they could to be sure that Loki wouldn't be a danger to himself or others. They weren't exactly equipped for the job, but it was the least they could do. As Avengers, they were sworn to keep the place safe, and at least they were neutralizing a threat in the safest way possible. And, as Tony saw it, Loki could even be a powerful ally. He was quick-witted and of a sharp of tongue, but without it's previously volatile edge, the man could prove a powerful asset, even without the magic abilities he'd once possessed.

Loki stared at Tony hopefully, the pain on his face dulled slightly, "I don't know how I'll do it," he said quietly, "But I'm grateful you two are willing to help me."

Tony smiled and Clint nodded in acknowledgment, and a quiet conversation carried on about the next day until Loki's eyelids were so heavy that Tony knew talking would soon be pointless. With a feeling of satisfaction associated with doing the right thing, Tony got up and ushered Clint out of the room like a nursemaid. "He needs his rest, let's go." Loki attempted to talk, but everything he said came out as a murmur of vowels and consonants. Tony would almost swear that 'thank you' was among them, but there was no point in worrying much about it, he thought, as he shut off the lights and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Even_ though he knew it was a dream, Loki found it odd that not a single inch was safe from the ice that blanketed the earth he stood on. There was to be no warmth to speak of anywhere, although he felt completely comfortable. There were impossible spiraling towers of ice in all directions, he noted, making the place that much harder to navigate. But in his chest there was confidence, even an excitement. He didn't even have to think about taking a step forward before he was in motion. That was the point where Loki simply handed his mind the reigns and watched his dreams unfold._

"_Come, brother! We can't waste a moment!"_

_There was no reply, but Loki simply continued onwards as if he knew every step to take. Snow began sprinkling down on them in every direction. Against the pale blue sky, they almost seemed like little pieces of paper. From that moment on, however, the feeling of overwhelming beauty was pushed out by an obscenely heavy guilt as the very land around them slowly began showing cracks and corrosion of an unnatural sort. The very sight of it all made Loki's stomach churn. But that feeling was nothing compared to the heartbreak he felt once a small camp was in his vision on the horizon. Loki spun on his heels and faced someone, someone he couldn't quite place._

"_Brother, I see it! We must hurry!"_

_Again, if there were a reply, Loki did not catch it. It was as if the sound he created was all that was audible to him, and he did not enjoy the feeling. The man before him, whose features were mostly a blur, seemed to be speaking, but no words ever reached Loki's ears. But, as if he _had _heard them, Loki simply turned back around and began sprinting for the pitiful-sized camp on the horizon. Once he was on the outskirts of it, he finally met the inhabitants. They were hardly people, the modern Loki noticed immediately, as they were at least twice his own size and dark navy in skin tone. But his dream-self was apparently completely comfortable around them all, despite the looks he was receiving. Loki went from hut to hut with the half-remembered man at his side, checking up on every giant that lived in the camp._

_But one particular tent caught his eye. One that had been torn in several places, as if in a fit of rage. And so Loki carefully approached it, calling out to the inhabitants before slowly reaching out and lifting back the flap. There, on the floor inside the tent, sat the youngest frost giant he had seen so far, simply sitting on the floor and sharpening spears. When Loki intruded, he merely stared, his face expressionless._

"_Oh, child, where are your parents?"_

"_My parents are away," He said quietly, "And I have not seen them for days."_

"_Would you accompany me to find them?"_

"_Yes, of course!" The boy cried, hopping from his handiwork and following behind Loki and his blurry second man, to whom the young giant did not seem to take a liking to. "Does he have to come, too?" He asked sullenly and stared at the third party member, who stopped walking and pointed at the tent._

"_If I should not go on this journey, I will be inside waiting for your return."_

_And he was inside before Loki could say a word in protest. The man stared down disapprovingly at the giant for a moment and said, "You didn't need to do that," But when he gained no response, Loki simply spoke up again, "Where was the last place you'd seen them?"_

"_Up ahead, in one of the abandoned temples."_

_And so the boy and Loki trudged forward for a while with no words, until all at once, the man realized they had reached their destination and eagerly opened the frozen door to the temple. He stumbled inside and pulled the young giant with up with himself over the rubble, but stopped all at once and tried to usher him back to the door after one moment._

"_We mustn't be here," Loki murmured, his eyes glued to to figures in the short distance, "We must go back,"_

"_But I saw them, right over there!" The boy cried, freeing himself from Loki's grasp and throwing himself forward. He pulled at the shoulders of the figures and flipped them over. Loki ran to him only a moment too late. The boy caught an eyeful of Jotun decomposition before he could be pulled away. The boy was already sobbing loudly, fighting back at Loki's pulling him, but they were back over the rubble before the boy could do so much as see the front side of his deceased mother. Loki sat him down on a flattened base of a pillar and began speaking soothing words. Then, all at once, the frost giant screamed at him._

"_You wouldn't know what it's like, you pampered prince of Asgard!" The fury on the boy's face was so real that, for a moment, Loki had forgotten he was dreaming, "You have never suffered a loss as I have, so do not compare our situations!"_

"_Hold your tongue and do not use that language to your elders. Surely no one in the camp would put up with you for very long if you shared this tone with them," Loki muttered._

"_Surely the ones in the camp can understand my suffering better than any _prince_." The boy spat at Loki, who straightened his back. He was obviously becoming angry with the boy's words._

"_You're right, child, I am a prince," He began, "But not as you expect."_

_And with a tremendous focus that he didn't know he possessed, Loki began to feel an unsettling change in his skin. It slowly became rough and broken in places, and bumps and lines began to rise up slightly. His arms became a shade of navy to match the boy's and he knew, without looking, that he was truly one of them. Even the child seemed to believe it._

"_Wh- Who _are _you?" The boy asked in wonder, "Surely you are one of us? I don't understand what's happening," He said in frustration and confusion. Rubbing at his temples and looking sadly in the direction of his deceased parents. "I just want my mother and father back."_

"_And now we understand each other." Was all Loki said._

_The boy flung his arms around Loki's waist and the two of the began sobbing on the floor of the temple. The young giant was crying his little heart out, but Loki tried to keep quiet and held the boy close to him as though he were made his weight in gold. Both of them were shaking as though the cold was an actual bother to them. And then, all at once, the doors to the temple re-opened and a golden-haired man poked his head in. For a moment, he simply watched the two in shock, but then he sat by Loki's side with tears in his eyes._

_It was in that very second that Loki remembered who Thor Odinson was._

"_I'm so sorry, brother, about everything." Said Thor, who then joined the young giant in embracing Loki, and the three of them sobbed together. Loki could feel his skin crawling, and that was the jolting sensation that broke his dream._

* * *

When he was fully conscious, he realized random words had been pouring out of his mouth for the past several minutes, and he sat up in bed and turned slightly in the mirror just long enough to catch an eyeful of a blue-skinned version of himself with red eyes and markings all around the forehead. He didn't scream, though he wanted to, but shuddering gasps managed to replace his breathing as he went into a series of panic attacks. There were real tears in Loki's eyes now, who was convinced that he was somehow dying, but he began thinking, somewhere in the confusion, of his brother. What had his name been?

_Thor_. That was it. Loki recalled in detail the man's appearance, and let himself thoroughly believe one hundred percent that they were brothers. It was all Loki could do to calm himself and accept it, but the way the dream had gone...The very _nature _of it suggested that it was more than a simple dream. More than a simple stressed interpretation of what had happened with Michael, although the events were slightly similar. It was the only consolation in the world that Loki needed; That he was not alone. There was someone out there who loved him dearly. A brother. Perhaps even parents, if he was lucky. And, with wonders of what his brother was like personality-wise, Loki laid back in his bed and stopped shaking quite so badly. He was even asleep when Tony re-entered the room in the morning.

* * *

**Review Responses**

_1valleygirl4_: You're fine~! I do that a lot, too. Awww, thank you so much for all these wonderful words! They really do make me feel so much more confident in this story. Actually, I asked my sister for a random name, and that was the one I got. I liked the way it sounded, so it became Loki's human alias! I thought of calling him something like Hiddles's name, but I couldn't think of anything that wasn't ridiculous. Thanks again for the lovely review!

_Potkan**k**a: _Oh, crap, I'm so sorry I've been misspelling it this entire time! I feel like such an idiot, wow, go me. As for the deleted scene, I have plans to make it a bonus chapter after the epilogue. Also, I hope you enjoy the interaction in this chapter! I had to go back and watch scenes from the movie to make sure I was getting the characters right. And thank you for such a wonderful compliment! I think the stories here should do more than I am, because it really is an interesting subject. The devastation from the attack on Manhattan, _from _Manhattan's point of view. I'd write a fic for that in itself, but I don't think I would do well. As for Loki's sensitivity to the dead bodies, I think it's because these are people he has a reason to care about. For Michael and the young giant, both, it was simply a matter of guilt. But I also would like to think that, as Loki progresses, he's becoming a better person enough to care about his victims. Tony's got a lot of work to do, that's for sure! And of course, Clint saves the day.

_Sunshine-Midnight123**: **_Aw, shucks! It's official, I'm in love with my readers.


End file.

Avengers, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort