Loki was dead, but then he wasn't.

He'd dreamt of an end ever since he fell from the Bifrost.

Begged for it when left in the void for so long he'd lost count of the years and his mind had fled.

When they pulled from the void he was blank, torture did not do much but provide a distraction. A new hope that maybe this time will be it.

He failed to die on Midgard under the Others control, and was spared on Asgard.

Thor had lost hope finally and lead him to his death to save his mortal lover.

Loki loved his brother, but he just wanted it to end.

Loki liked Jane, she was intelligent and knew how to put Thor in his place.

If he hadn't been so broken, they might've been good friends.

Saved Thors life again, nothing new there. Saved Jane's, that was good. She wouldn't live long anway- give Thor more time.

He didn't know the blade wouldn't kill the beast.

Barely felt the blade peirce his front. He did note the way his back had felt odd with a dull ache near his spine, but seemingly not quite there.

Slight of hand was something he knew well. The grenade like crystal was easy to activate. They'd both get sucked into its vortex, then.

Didn't expect the rough sting of dirt and too warm blood as he hit the ground a moment later.

His vision going dim, refusing to focus on Thors face. How did he get there so quickly?

He was numb. Distantly he knew this should bother him.

He was cold, too. That was a strange sensation.

He found himself wondering why Thor looked so scared- no terrified.

He wondered why his face was wet.

Thor was speaking. His usually booming voice was distant, as if speaking through a tunnel and not filled with its normal joyfulness. 

Thor moved him, pain shot through his body and suddenly it was all he could feel.

Ah. So that was why.

He was dying. In Thors arms, no less.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He panted, hands reaching unbidden towards the gaping hole in his torso.

He didn't want Thor to have to deal with this, but he was selfish and glad that he didn't have to die alone.

"...didn't listen..." He thought he heard. Listen to what? He wondered. He listened to a lot of things.

"...father... what you've done..." Done what? He hasn't done anything for his not-father.

His lungs were burning and he felt blood on his lips. He could barely see the face inches from his own.

"I didn't do it for him..." He found himself gasping out. He wanted to say more, apologise for everything again and again until he couldn't think. Until his silver tongue refused to make another sound.

He wanted to tell Thor what he really meant to him.

But he couldn't hear Thor anymore, but his lips were moving.

He couldn't feel the wind the was whipping Thors blonde hair around.

He felt his breathing come to a shuddering halt, lungs refusing to draw air.

He wonders briefly how his mother died, if this is how she felt.

He saw Thors face, in the blackness, just for a moment longer.

He realised he was afraid.

His eyes were getting heavy and he was tired, so very tired.

Loki's eyes slowly slid shut, green eyes dulling and muscles relaxing until his thin and lean frame was deadweight in his brothers arms.