A/N: First Avengers story! Yes it's a Loki story and I absolutely love his character, so naturally I decided to write a story. It is a Loki/OC story. Hope those of you who read it enjoy it! Please read and review, its really encouraging to hear from others.

Justice.

The definition varies.

Do you practice leniency, or do you ensure the offender never strikes again by eradicating them? Eliminate everything that gave them reason to breathe and walk. Strip them of what gave them purpose.

They meant to break him. They meant to make him regret and pay for his transgressions on Midgard. Countless mortal lives lost at the hands of Loki's desire for power. It was true that Odin could have opted to have him executed, but what would have the end result have been? Another death. Certainly that was not the goal.

No, the goal was to make Loki see just how much pain and suffering he had caused those who inhabit Midgard.

So they allowed him to live. Just barely. He had been stripped of his powers, and locked in the furthest depths of the Asgard prison. He was allowed no visitors, but of course not a soul in the family was informed of this.

He'd lost his sorcery, the one thing that made him feel unique. His brother Thor was indeed a great warrior, a good percentage of men, even a few women in Asgard were. But no one knew sorcery like Loki. He reveled in it.

It had not surprised him that he had no visitors, though it pained him. He held hope that his mother Frigga, would have visited, but not even she came in the month since he'd returned from the destruction of Midgard's New York City. Frigga may not have been his blood mother, but she was the only one Loki was sure truly loved him. When he was a child and Thor found it amusing to conjure lightning and thunder within the palace, Frigga was always the one who would run her fingers through his hair and rock him to sleep while his older brother carried on.

Apparently he had become too much of a disgrace for even her to handle.

What did it matter? He was alone. It was nothing new. While everyone was out admiring Thor, he was always left to himself. This feeling of solitude should have been nothing new.

The pain. That's what was new. That is what exacerbated the feeling of solitude. The beatings from the prison guards, the burns that the chains had left on his wrists, his body was practically a canvas painted with black and blue bruises.

He was still Loki though. That would never change.

Loki told himself this as one guard landed a blow to his head, causing it to slam against the damp brick wall that he was chained to.

The cold, dank room shook as his head bounced off the wall. He groaned slightly from the pain, but his eyes never wavered, never lost that defiant light.

His bruises and cuts, which at this point were more like welts and lacerations, burned from not being properly cared for. But that was the point was it not?

The guard knew this as he continued his assault. It was Odin's orders. More and more each day until a certain point, he was not to kill Loki. Killing him would have been quicker though. Loki's body would not be able to hold up much longer. He was deathly pale, his body had grown thin which was exaggerated by the baggy garments he wore, and the damage done by the guards was evident.

Loki half laughed at his condition. This was simply more of the same. The same just got progressively worse as time wore on. Whether it be being mistreated and lied to half his life, to his father revealing he was nothing more than a pawn and pushing him to the brink so much so that he felt the need to die, to the Chiatauri torturing him and using him for their own sport, to this.

This was no different.

"I would not be laughing were I in your predicament Laufeyson," said the guard eyeing the gaunt demi god chained to the wall.

"I am no one's son," Loki replied coldly.

"So be it." The guard stalked around Loki's figure. "Tell me dear prince how does it feel to be powerless, have no magic? Do you even remember what it is like to use magic, it has been about a month now since the Allfather removed your powers has it not? Perhaps I could show you.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, the guard brought hell upon Loki.

Every pain imaginable was felt. His blood boiled, his bones broke, his every nerve was lit on fire.

For the first time in his captivity, he screamed.

The pain intensified with every passing second. It was worse than his ordeal with the Chiatauri. Much, much, worse. He tried to move, but to no avail. The chains bound him and the little bit he could move was crushed by the crippling all-consuming pain.

His screams ceased only when he had screamed his voice hoarse. The screams turned into pathetic sounds of distress that one would not expect from Loki, the God of Lies and Mischief.

He longed for this to end, even if it meant slipping into a never ending sleep.

Anything, anything to end this nightmare.