Disclaimer: I own nothing that isn't mine. If you try to sue me I'll blackmail you. If you sue me anyways I'll have to kill you. I'm joking. Sorry. Moving on…

Rated for: Torture, abuse, angst, the possible cuss-word here and there... etc...

Pairings: Canon pairings, Frostiron.

Setting: Set a year after Avengers: AoU. Anything before AoU related to the Avengers may give away spoilers as well as AoU.

Author's Note: I've decided to write a multi chapter angst story about Loki and the avengers. I hope you'll like it and thank you all for reading!

Loki was hurtling into an endless vortex of nothingness and, somehow, everything.

His raven hair whipped behind him, pulling hard as though it would rip away from his scalp. His body felt like it was going to rip out of his skin yet it never did.

The world seemed to ripple around him.

Clusters of colors, he had never seen before, flashed past in blurs of glowing fiery bright lights, going past as if at one point they would hit him and shatter him to pieces leaving him to be but travelling flesh.

His arms and legs had nothing to hold onto. They simply swayed in the harsh wind and it was such a helpless, pathetic feeling.

His screams echoed silently in the cluster pain, hurdling faster and faster and faster and faster—

Loki awoke, breathing harshly against his chest.

Everything was blurred so Loki rfubbed his eyes and blinked a few times.

It was just a dream… Nightmare… Memory-

Loki looked at the clock above the paint-pealed white door with the brass lock. It was eleven o'clock. He had overslept again.

He sighed and crawled out of his rickety, uncomfortable, human bed. His battered feet searing up slightly from hitting the hard wooden floor.

The pain he felt in his dream had been reciprocating the actual pain he felt; though perhaps to a higher degree.

He took a step forward and the floorboards creaked. His headache was banging painfully against his sweat stricken forehead and he clasped with a grimace.

The landlord would be asking for his payment tomorrow. Loki was trying to get a job, but honestly he didn't know if he could. What would his résumé say? Potential evil king, Potential evil tyrant, genocide, regicide… Raised to be a privileged prince from a, literally, different world and would have no idea what he's doing at any kind of job there or here.

The former prince had no plan regarding where he'd live next after his landlord kicked him out. Not one. He'd probably opt to live among the, potentially mentally-ill, homeless people, in a giant garbage can.

Loki opened the window to let some air into the disgusting, crummy, room of his cheap New York apartment that wouldn't be his long.

Looking around him, at the cheap small bedroom, he stepped into the crammed bathroom, bending under the short doorframe. He didn't know why it costed anything to live here in the first place.

He'd have honestly rather lived in a dumpster then this place but, of course, that would be scarring to his decreased physical health.

He looked in the mirror, his reflection clear and he glared at what he saw.

He looked terrible. His hair was ridiculously unkempt, his undeniably frail body was as pale as his bedsheets which only distinguished the dark circles in his tired, sullen, eyes.

He didn't like his hair. It was a painful reminder of all he'd lost… and all he'd gained… And all he'd done. So, he made a mental note to get a haircut… Though he didn't know where he'd get the money.

He walked back into the small bedroom, limping ever so slightly.

Loki Looked out the window, the ugly neighboring apartment buildings, dried weeds growing on them, hiding the more beautiful and magnificent buildings and scenery of New York from Loki's sight.

Loki knew Thor would soon find out Odin was missing. He knew he needed to tell Thor what was really going on during his… Exploits… in Manhattan. What's really happened to Odin, All-Father. He didn't want his brother to think him weak. He wasn't weak. It was thousands against one, and the one leading 'his' brigade? A humongous, nefarious, heinous, powerful titan, who could easily snap a fully grown Jotun's neck with one hand. He could certainly snap Loki's, given the fact that Loki was a Jotun grunt who was now 'human'.

Loki didn't like being human. No spells, no tricks, no breaking your leg and having it heal within a week, no immortality.

His hair had taken a slight tint of dark auburn-brown, instead of being completely black. He didn't remember that happening to Thor… He wasn't sure how he felt about the small, almost unable to be seen, hair color change.

Loki wasn't weak in the sense that he wasn't brave. He'd been coerced into the things he'd done after falling from the rainbow bridge. Painfully coerced. But he was physically weak, all the same and there was no denying that. He didn't want Thor to see him like this. He didn't want him to see his shame. He didn't want him to know that Loki could be crumpled like cheap paper as inevitably as a falling star will chip, or even shatter a little, upon landing.

Loki had been lying for so long that he now lied to himself.

Loki really didn't want Thor to see him for what he really was. Not a clever devil, or magician of epic trickery but a coward. Loki tried to believe himself brave. He told himself he was. He'd lie to himself all day about the matter. But no. He was indeed a coward. Never a god of mischief; but a ridiculous, silly, fool filled with nothing but deceit.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

'Avengers Tower' became sort of a living quarters as well as head-quarters over the past year.

'ACDC' was playing loudly around the room.

Tony was leaning in his couch, a peculiar device in his hands, his focused eyes gleaming in the reflection of the shiny machinery.

Steve watched, uncomfortably. He was still having a difficult time finding his way around the tower, let alone the whole of New York including his own hometown. Tony was the only one there at the moment so he would have to ask for his help. He really was dreading asking Tony where he could find his own bedroom. He knew the man was bound to bother him about this and he really wasn't in the mood for Stark's shenanigans at the moment.

"Stark?" he coughed, awkwardly. Tony didn't seem to have heard him. "Stark?" he said, louder and hopefully clearer.

Tony glanced behind his back at the Captain.

"What's up, Cap?" he asked, absently, as he went back to tinkering with… whatever he was tinkering with.

"Could you turn the music dow—"

"What?" Tony interrupted.

"Please turn the music do—"

"WHAT?!"

"STARK!" Steve yelled. This was already hard and he wasn't going to let Stark tease him even before he was supposed to.

Tony rolled his eyes as he turned around, put down his thingamajig, and turned the music down slightly.

Steve glared at him, disapprovingly.

"Fine." He said, or probably said. The Captain couldn't really hear anything. Still.

Tony turned off the music and the room was enveloped in silence.

Steve paused a moment and cleared his throat.

"What's up, Stevie?" Tony asked, possibly a little irritated though he was good at hiding it.

"So… I don't know where the… my… uh—"

"You forgot where your bedroom is again?" Tony asked, grinning, much to Steve's exasperation. Steve felt his face grow hot with embarrassment.

Clint must have told him. Steve thought he could trust that one but apparently no. No, he could most certainly not.

Tony shrugged. "Well, okey-dokey, then..." he said, as he turned around and began rummaging in a steel dresser.

"Tony, can you please just help me here?" Steve begged.

"Ah-ha!" Tony said. He turned around and a roll of paper became visible to Steve. He handed it to Steve and Steve opened it up. It was a map for the tower.

"Thanks…" Steve said.

"No problem. Go crazy, Captain." Tony said, turning away to continue whatever it was he was doing.

Suddenly they heard a swoosh that sounded something like a hurricane during an earthquake in a snowstorm… on a Tuesday.

"The news never said anything about a tsunami…" Tony said, glancing at Steve.

They scrambled to look out the window and poked their heads out.

There was a crackle of thunder somewhere and the appearance of a red caped, muscled man became slightly visible in the smoky dust. They knew who it was. Thor. He looked tenser than usual and a little angered. Something serious had happened.

"Thor that's my lawn!" Tony yelled out the window.

Steve ignored the urge to correct Tony's calling the tower that was now all of theirs 'his' for the millionth time and followed the man out the door.

They ran up to the top of the tower, where they knew Thor would come.

Loki had heard the crackle of thunder, the distant sound of Mjolnir's cyclone could be heard all the way from the apartment.

He knew what Thor was there for. He knew what he had to tell him and he grimaced. Thor thought he was dead… How would he react to what Loki had to tell him? How would he take the truth? Loki didn't know. But he'd soon find out.

Sorry for the cliff-hanger! I hope you liked and enjoyed and thank you so much for taking the time to read! I really, really appreciate it! So, Thank you!

PH