It began to rain as the day progressed, but Loki didn't notice it. He was too busy making explosives. He found that he was rather good at it, after all, that had been one of the things he specialized in when he had his magic; illusions. And explosives for theatre were, he found, merely illusions: big, showy, but not enough to hurt anyone.

At about midday, Sierra and the golden retriever guy popped out through a door. They both had tear trails on their faces, and yet their eyes were full of mirth. The retriever told a joke and Sierra laughed.

"Hey, L," she said in way of greeting as she walked by.

"Why are you crying?" he scoffed, laughing scornfully.

She shrugged. "My death tears are far off par, so Jorn offered to help me practice."

His eyebrow raised, and she laughed. " It's a theatre thing. Oh, and Dante? Niv wants to see you." The short blonde man working on a bomb got up and trotted out, waving goodbye to Loki as he went.

"I thought you didn't have friends," said Sierra.

"I don't," Loki replied curtly. "How many times must I tell you?"

"You've got one," she said, eyes sparkling as she shared some inside joke with the retriever. They walked upstairs, and Loki was left to stare after her.

He hated her. He hated everything about her and her comrades, and yet he didn't have any other options. How cruel could life be?

Later that day, Dante told him to grab sandwiches for them, pointing upstairs. Loki went up the blue painted stairs into a large room. He was greeted by a strange sight.

Sierra was sitting on the ground, in a circle with about twelve other people. And they were... singing. They melded from one abominable song to another with the smoothness only trained singers had, some doing background and some doing words. Though he hated singing and all to do with it, he had to admire them; the actors of Les Miserables were certainly an incredible A Capella group.

It was a sight he had never seen before.

Sierra didn't come home with him that night. Dante and Loki went home at six, but for the other actors, it was something Sierra affectionately termed Purgatory, the two weeks of finishing touches before another week of grueling work and then the show.

Which meant late rehearsals.

He had taken the car, laughing at the ancient technology, and grudgingly told her he'd pick her up at nine. He had half a mind to leave her at the studio and see what she thought of that, but then she would probably get a ride from the retriever, or the mousy girl, or some other, equally abominable stage prescence that he was bound to hate just as much as he hated her. One Sierra was hard enough to bear- two of them would be hell.

And so when nine o'clock came, it found him sitting in the car outside the studio. She popped out a few moments later, bidding a goodbye to the mousy girl and kissing the cheek of a chocolate haired boy with red shoes.

She got into the car, shutting the door behind her. Loki laughed cruelly. "Is that ugly man your paramour?" he scoffed. To his chagrin (he had meant to anger her,) she started laughing.

"Jared? No, he's not my boyfriend. We're just really close friends, have been since high school. Same with most of the cast. We've all known each other for a long time."

"Then why did you kiss him?"

"Because he's my friend. I care about him a lot. Don't you care about anybody?" she asked.

"I don't care about anybody because no one cares about me," was his curt reply. He stared at the road, at the taxi cabs and cars jumbling together in the loud streets.

"I care about you," came from beside him.

"You care about everybody." He laughed bitterly. "You care about me because I'm a person, and you believe all people have good in them, that they can all be saved. You are empty, you live alone, and you think by caring about all those people that you can fill the gaping hole in your heart. I am no different then your golden retriever friend, just another person to change with your golden heart." His voice was rising now. "You think everybody loves you, like you're just the good little girl, that nothing can go wrong for you! You are so terribly mistaken! You think you are secure in your pretty little life, that you're on top of the world. You aren't! You will fall so far, and lose everyone you ever loved! This is the truth, you ugly little girl! You're useless!"

He turned toward her, hoping to see tears in her eyes. He wasn't wrong, but the tears in Sierra Dyer's eyes weren't sad. They were angry, enraged tears, her eyes blazing. "Someone told me that once," she said quietly, voice dripping with malice. "It came true. I was alone, and sad, and that's why I care about everyone! Because I don't want anyone to feel as lonely as I did, with no hope. You will not convince me now that I am alone, because I'm not." She was blazing with barely controlled fury. Loki smiled in spite of himself. He enjoyed causing pain.

"Do you know what happened to the last person who told that to me?" she asked. "I worked for SHIELD then, as one of their top assassins, and I killed him. Didn't make me feel any less pain, though, so I never did it again. I won't kill you, so long as you get out of my car. You can come back tomorrow, but both you and I know we need a night to cool down."

"Why are you doing this?" asked Loki, genuinely surprised.

"Because I care about you."

"What if I say no?"

"You know I won't stop you. I could, but I won't."

Loki turned to get out of the car. They were sitting in stop-and-go traffic anyway, so it made things easy. Sierra just stared at him, an unreadable emotion in her eyes. "We've all got friends," she said. "You could do with some."

"I don't have friends."

"You have one. See you tomorrow."

Before he could even blink an eye, Sierra Dyer, the red haired vixen, closed the door, pulled herself into the drivers seat, and drove off down a side street. He was left to stare after her.

tyler beheaded by Thanos