A/N: Avengers spoilers.

"I thought you were dead."

"Did you mourn?"

I did. I sobbed endlessly until it was merely sound, no tears. I stayed in your room for many nights, sitting, sometimes sleeping, in your bed. I didn't speak much to anyone but Father and Mother, and said little to my friends. I missed you. I thought I had failed you. But you let go. I didn't cast you aside; you let go. Why did you let go? I could have held onto you. I could have lifted you up. I could have saved you. Why didn't you let me?

Mother also mourned. You were her son. She raised you. She loved you. You were no different in her eyes than I. Father, admittedly, did see me different, and so I can understand your resentment, and for that, I am sorry. But Mother missed you, too. She is happy that you are alive. She wishes to see you.

Many others who weren't offended by you did mourn. They saw a lost prince, not a traitor. They saw a tragedy, not poetic justice. They wish you would come home, end this before you get hurt. Before you harm others more than you have done already.

"We all did."

Because it's true, to an extent.

We all mourned some sort of loss. The loss of innocence, perhaps? Innocence in thinking everyone is Asgard is trustworthy. Innocence in thinking that we are above it all. My own innocence, the naïve notion I had that you would always be my brother, than we could always love and care for one another, that we would never be driven apart.

I lost you then. But I am trying to get you back.

"Come home, Brother."

I want you by my side again. Things cannot return to as they were, I know; despite how much I pray they would. But you can, at least, serve a minimal punishment and then be back where you belong. You could be my advisor. You could be a general. You could be many things, Loki, but all at home, on Asgard, where you were raised with me, where we were children and young adults, where we had so many good memories.

Do they count for naught?

I ask you if you remember them, if they mean anything to you. All those times we were friends. All those times I played with you, tended to your bruises and scratches, kissed them well; all those times you fended off my doubts, fears, nightmares. The duo we were; the inseparable sons of Odin.

Don't you want to come home? Don't you want to relive it, relish the nostalgia, feel comforted by Mother's presence, be my right-hand man? Couldn't that be enough?

You are ill-suited for a throne; you desire control and power too much, like I had, when Father thought I was also unfit to be a ruler. But that doesn't mean you need to be left out of the process. I would include you. I would seek your advice. I would trust you.

Couldn't that be enough? Can't you come home, at least for that, my brother? For my love and trust? For my loyalty? Won't you get the Tesseract so we can leave this planet be?

"We can end this… together."

I see them, the tears in your eyes. You didn't want this destruction. You didn't mean for it to be this bad. You wanted a place, I see that now. You wanted to belong, because you don't feel like an Asgardian, and you don't feel like my brother.

But I can assure you that you are, Loki. You are my brother, my equal, and I love you. I want what is best for you. I want to protect you, bring you to justice, and have you by my side. Can't you see that? Am I not being clear?

You stab me. You flee. But I am not angry; I am hurt more than the physical, because you don't think you can trust me again, can have your old life back again. You are a scared animal backed into a corner. You are a lost mind, a lost soul, seeking mislead guidance.

I will save you, Brother. I will lead you properly. Mark me: I will not fail you. You may feel ashamed, you may hate me; you have done multiple hurtful things to me. But I can and will forgive you.

You'll see.