N/A: DISCLAIMER! I, most unfortunately, do not own Marvel or any of it's characters.

It was slow, like every week. Slow, painful, and, well, torturous. He knew that there was no escape from his eternal torture, which was provided weekly. He never questioned it, and always came quietly. Well, at first, he would taunt the guards whom carried out his torture, but quickly learned not to. Ten lashes per week was the first month of his torture, and five more were added each month. After a year, his back ached constantly, and he had the worst type of thoughts. Many believed him to be going mad; his screams echoing throughout every night, and his muttering to himself was one of the only comforts he had left. His inky black hair hung limp and fell into his thin, yellowish face. The prison provided little light, therefore making it so that he never got the proper amount of light. His cell was damp and cold, and he was almost always to be found in the darkest corner of it, either whimpering in pain from his torture sessions, or silent, often making the guards think that he had died and gone to Valhalla. This was not the case, however, for he just would not die. How he longed to, though. The fire in his brilliant greenish blue eyes had gone out long ago, and he had given up on life. He never tried to kill himself, oh no, that would surely wipe away his pride, but he always hoped that, with each torture session, he was getting closer to the end.

This week was just as bad as all the weeks previously.

The whip struck him quickly, his back aching and feeling as though it was on fire. Tears streamed down his face as it struck him again, his blood falling from his back. The torturer's face was stony and showed no emotion whatsoever. Did the torturer not care how much pain the prisoner was in? Evidently not.

The prisoner, for the first time during a torture session, begged the torturer to stop. His pleas were shaky and hard to make out through his sobs. The torturer ignored him, and finished whipping him. He unchained the prisoner from the wall, and watched as he slumped to the ground, body racking with sobs, pain the only thing he felt. The torturer left without a second thought of the prisoner.

All the prisoner could think was, 'Why?' He had no reasonable explanation for why he should be inflicted with this magnitude of pain. Yes, he had done wrong and therefore deserved to pay for his crimes, but with this? Why this? This was… horrible. The prisoner dragged himself to his dark corner, still trembling and sobbing from his torture. He brought his knees to his chest and buried his face into his arms, which were crossed over his knees.

Suddenly, the prisoner felt warm. He wasn't quite sure why, though, and he refused to look up. Some sort of light was touching his skin, but it didn't feel like real sunlight. He cowered in his dark corner, not lifting his head at all. He heard voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Surely they were mocking him. Mocking his weakness. More tears fell down his face as he tried to get into the corner more, away from the voices.

"Loki."

The prisoner shook his head at the sound of his name, and rocked back and forth as he cried.

"Loki, listen to me."

The prisoner shook his head even more, sobbing harder. He hurt so badly. Why wouldn't this pain leave him? He felt a hand on his shoulder and he let out a scream, looking up at the person who touched him. There was one man standing over him, and his name was Tony Stark.

"NO!" Loki screamed, batting his hand away. "Get away from me!"

Tony flinched slightly at Loki's reaction. "Loki, I'm not going to hurt you."

More tears fell down Loki's face, making a noise that a wounded animal would make. Tony's eyes shone with concern and pity. Loki hated it. He hated the pity. He didn't want to be pitied, but yet he did. He wanted help. He wanted someone, anyone to care for him, no matter who they were.

"Listen, I'm here to take you out of here," Tony said. "Nobody else would do it."

Loki shook his head. They'd only torture him more. There was no freedom of pain for him; no way could he be given the luxury of peace. He cowered before the man he had once so fearlessly threatened.

Then a cruel laughter came from Anthony Stark's lips; a sound that had never escaped them, but yet Loki saw it. The laughter seemed to change the appearance of Tony, his Iron Man armor falling off of him, replaced with gold and black armor. The tan skin on Tony's face turned red and his chocolate eyes melted into an icy blue, full of joy at the sight of the trembling god. Tony changed to Thanos and the prison cell broke into a million little pieces, floating around in the darkness of the realm of the Chitauri. "Was this really your dreams, Laufeyson?" Thanos slapped Loki across the face, but the gag tied in the god's mouth prevented him from yelling out. "How pathetic. You really are the weakest Jotun. Is that why Daddy abandoned you? Poor, little Loki. The Front Giant runt." Thanos laughed his cruel laugh once more, the sound echoing in Loki's ears even after it had gone. He was chained to a rock, no shirt on, blood dripping off of him, staining the ground below. He had done nothing to deserve this. Nothing. The torture he went through was merely for Their pleasure and Their entertainment. Loki tried to speak through the gag, but all that he managed to get out was a tiny squeak. The Chitauri laughed, but all Thanos allowed himself was a smirk. "You will die here, Laufeyson. Mark my words."

Tears flowed down Loki's face like a river; his body shaking uncontrollably. He shook his head, wanting to scream and let out his anguish, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything but hang there and watch Thanos as he tortured him. That's all he would ever know now, was torture. How much more could they do? Their minds were sick, but surely they would get bored of their little play-toy. It was this thought that kept Loki alive for the next year of torture. But as the anniversary of that year gave way to the third year, the thought began to lose its purpose. No matter how many times they re-did the same torture, they would love it. The seed of Insanity that had been implanted in Loki's mind throughout the First Year had started to grow and flourish inside of Loki's broken mind. In the beginning of the Third Year, it was the same as always. The torture, the jeers and insults, the mocking. But as it continued, Loki's reactions became less responsive. The Chitauri attempted in torturing him worse, and got a bit more, but it quickly vanished. They did grow bored of him, and many complained to their master, their lord Thanos about this. Thanos frowned and went to the broken god.

"You are no longer of use to the Chitauri." He unchained Loki, who fell to the ground in a trembling heap. "You will go back to the Earth, and then we will come when you are well once more." Without waiting to see the god's reaction, Thanos threw him off the realm and Loki Laufeyson was engulfed into darkness.

Sunlight burned his extremely pale skin. He willed his eyes to open, to see anything but the darkness and pain he had seen over the past Three years, but he could not. Exhaustion laid down heavily upon him and would not get off, no matter how hard he tried to shake it away. For some reason, the panic he thought he would feel did not come, and instead a strange peace was spreading through him. He was gone from Their realm, from Their torture.

It wasn't until he heard a very familiar voice did Loki Laufeyson finally open his eyes:

"Um, guys, we have a problem…"