A/N: I'd like to take a minute to thank everyone who has been reviewing/following/favoriting this story - you people are the real MVP's. Seriously. Thank you so much.

Some of you may find that the ending part of this chapter is somewhat familiar, and that is because it is based off of a one-shot I published about a year ago that I had wanted to include in this story anyway. It's obviously a bit different from that version, and I apologize if it seems like lazy writing, but I REALLY wanted to include it here.

Stay tuned for the next chapter though - you'll be glad you did.

The sky is beautifully lit with the departing rays of the setting sun. In stark contrast, the stars in the heavens are slowly overtaking what is left of the day, deep and rich with the promise of night. Below is the full splendor of Asgard - golden towers, sweeping hills, the sparkle of the waters. And rising above all else is the glory of the palace, strong and sure in the center of the city.

Something changes, somehow.

The balcony appears, overlooking the whole of the city, and a man is standing there - old and weathered but standing tall, his single eye overlooking his kingdom. From behind him, another man appears - much younger, but no less tall, golden and warm. Asgard's crown prince, approaching his father Odin - the Allfather.

He comes to stand beside, yet just a bit behind his father. "You'll be a wise king," Odin says softly, his gaze still fixed ahead.

There is silence for a moment before Thor replies.

"There will never be a wiser king than you," he says softly, almost subdued. He then adds, "Or a better father."

Odin remains silent, even as the ghost of a smile graces his lips.

"I have..." Thor starts. He swallows. "...much, to learn. I know that now." His gaze follows that of the king's and looks at the city. "Someday, perhaps...I shall make you proud." And here Odin does smile, finally turning towards his son with purpose. He puts a hand on his shoulder.

"You've already made me proud," he says simply. Thor laughs, deep and rich and happy.

"You flatter me, father," he says, shaking his head as he looks at the ground. "I know I've yet a lot to prove."

"Nonsense," Odin says, smiling once more. "You have done me and your home a great service. It is because of you that a past wrong has been righted, and a shameful stain removed from my house. There is much that is owed to you, my son."

Thor blinks. "I do not understand."

"I had a traitor in my house," Odin says slowly, shaking his head as if with disgust. "A wolf among my sheep, a snake in my camp. I did not realize it until it was too late. The horror I felt upon waking, knowing that a frost giant who I had once idiotically viewed as my child had attempted my murder...it chills me to the bone and disgusts me to no end. Were it not for you destroying the bridge, he might not have been dangling over the abyss and made it all the easier for us to be rid of him."

"Aye," Thor nods in agreement. "You speak the truth, father. But it was no less my duty to be rid of a murderer, deceiver, and liar."

"Indeed. But let us speak no more of it. He is gone and dead." Odin smiles bright and beckons Thor back to the great hall. "Come, let us celebrate your return and the joy of his death."

Laughter booms in the skies, but neither man pays it any heed.

Loki awakened with a startled sob, clutching his chest as he wheezed violently, trying to get his breath back. He couldn't breathe. Someone, something, was squeezing the life out of his lungs, and no amount of thrashing or silent screams could save him.

"Is the godling going to cry again? Is he going to snivel and whimper like a child?" Someone kicked him, but he could not feel it. There was an agony that had settled deep into his bones (normal, it is normal now), but the hateful words repeated and repeated over and over and over in his mind and he couldn't stop hearing it, hearing murderer liar snake.

It hurt far more somehow, knowing the truth.

Seeing it happen, in yet another vision.

Loki gargled in his chest, rolling over slowly as he coughed out blood and pus, dripping down his face in gooey trickles.

Disgusting, you are disgusting

He was sick, then. His body was breaking down and he felt too hot and too cold, shaking violently with fever and the world was spinning.

Spinning

Their voices continued to taunt, but he could no longer make out what they were saying. He pressed his face to the ground, shivering violently, wanting to weep but he felt as if his tears had dried up long ago.

Odin had abandoned him, then.

Am I cursed

Oh gods. He had thought...foolishly, it seemed...he had thought they would be looking for him.

He had allowed himself to hope.

He could feel the press of their hands against his body, tearing and beating and cruel, but his mind was fixated on Odin's face saying You've already made me proud and how utterly joyous they were in the celebration of his death and all the time he refused to allow himself to think of his moth - to think of Frigga, because he hadn't seen her and perhaps that meant something something

I am the monster parents tell their children about at night

But it didn't matter, anymore.

Gods above, why had he allowed himself to hope.

He no longer felt the twinge and splinter of his broken heart.

It was cold.

Bitingly so, cutting into the Jotun flesh that he would not allow himself to dwell on. He did not remember ever being chained to a rock, but here he was - immobile, waiting on the whims of his captors. He watched with rapt fascination as a trickle of blood made its way lazily down his arm, his iron binds cutting ferociously into his skin.

"I still bleed," he said into the empty air. He had been alone for years, he thought. Or maybe months. "Days," he said aloud, shaking his head. He stared at his blue arms and grimaced, then spat on himself. He yanked on his chains to no avail.

It had been a long while since he had seen the Mad Titan. Perhaps he was dead. Loki giggled to himself, wondering how one might kill an ancient, immortal being. In the next moment his head dropped to his chest and dry sobs shook his body.

You are never getting out of here you are never

leaving

It was so so cold.

"Brother," he whispered. "Have you forgotten me, truly?" He slumped heavily against the rock he was imprisoned to and looked to the sky. "I am sorry," he croaked, and the effort sent his body into a horrendous coughing fit. He could feel his ribs snapping and he dry-heaved, crying out in agony as white foam spilled from his lips. He fell onto his back and gazed at the star-filled heavens. Fever bled into every one of his senses and he closed his eyes, willing his mind to focus focus focus. "I did not lie," he muttered. "I was a...fool." He exhaled slowly, a meager attempt to alleviate the pain that sliced through his lungs. "Forgive me," he mouthed, curling his hands into his heart.

And in the next moment, the air cracked with a thunderous boom and the intensity of it echoed in his chest.

Loki opened his eyes, wide with terror, and tried to sit up. Another crash resounded around him and with a gargled cry he forced himself to his knees, eyes darting wildly back and forth, heart pounding in terror, until he saw it

Until he saw lightning fill the sky

The feel of it tingled on his skin and he raised his arms in bewilderment, shaking, watching the hairs stand on end.

And then, from behind him -

The sound of footsteps.

Loki froze, and the air around him sparked with familiarity.

Oh gods could it be could it

He turned slowly, breath rasping and rattling in his lungs.

And there before him stood Thor, eyes dark and determined, mighty Mjolnir in his hand.

Loki could not stop the cry that escaped past his lips, nor stop his traitorous body from trying to stand and run to him. His legs collapsed beneath him, but he tried still, clumsily moving in a half-crawl until the chains that bound him snapped taut and halted him where he was. Sudden tears pricked his eyes as he gazed at his binds, then back at his brother.

His brother.

"T-Thor," he whispered, shaking so badly he fell once more to his knees, half-mad with confusion. He raised his chained hands before him and the cold metal clinked quietly in the still air. He found he could say nothing else.

Falling I am falling and you are here to catch me

"Brother," Thor whispered back, his eyes brimming with obvious pain. He could barely stand to look at Asgard's crown prince as he beheld him with such...sympathy. He did not deserve it. "Oh Loki," he rasped, and the sound of his name through the voice he loved so much nearly killed him. "What have they done to you?"

"Oh Thor," Loki cried out, his body failing him as he collapsed, unable to support his weight any longer. He looked up from the dust, briefly wondering why Thor had not yet moved. "Oh gods Thor, please. Take me home. Take me from this place." His body shuddered and black dots popped sporadically in his vision.

And then Thor started to make his way over. He seemed to glow in this dark and evil place, and with every footstep, Loki's heart beat in time with them. Home home home he was going home the vision wasn't real.

Thor was nearly upon him, his hand outstretched, and the gesture was so horribly familiar that Loki had to choke down another sob. With the final push of his waning strength, he raised his hands to grasp that of his brother's and his heart was beating so wildly that he could hardly breathe because he was going home and -

The offered hand twisted its position so quickly that Loki barely even saw it as it delivered a powerful backhanded slap across his face. The sheer force of it sent him skidding backward, rolling across the frozen earth until he slammed headfirst into his slab of rock. The blow left him completely discombobulated, and the sky spun in dizzying circles around him. A startled cry passed through his bloodied lips when he was suddenly yanked from the ground and thrown against the rock once more and his eyes rose to the sight of Thor grinning wickedly down at him and he felt as if he'd been thrown once more into the Void.

Brother, he thought

Please

The thought barely made itself known before strong fingers wrapped themselves around his throat and squeezed. Laughter boomed and echoed, clashing with lightning and thunder in the sky, and clarity dawned like a burst of light.

And so you are deceived once again, you stupid waste of flesh and blood! How truly amusing you are, to be so easily fooled over and over again!

The meager wisps of hope he had still clutched onto died an ugly ugly death in his chest and he allowed himself to look one last time at Thor's maniacal face. The features he had once so totally known (and loved, yes, you loved) began to twist and sag and he watched the illusion melt away before him, chunks of flesh falling off and red, red blood splashing onto his own face.

His own screams were drowned out by the sound of continuing laughter.

He will not come for you, prince. He has forgotten you ever even were. You attempted to take his life - why would he bother saving yours?

"No!" his scream was hoarse and desperate, begging, pleading to himself to anyone make it stop make it stop "No, no, NO NO NO -"

He knows you are here and will not come for you.

NO

WHY

Oh, to think he could have been found.

Saved.

Devastated, he slammed his own head into the rocks until blood filled his mouth and covered his eyes, thick and dark and red.

Know your place, liar.

I will not come for you.