Nothing feels real.

The haze has been lifted, and now, nothing feels real.

He wouldn't have done this – any of this.

He knows himself, and he never would have done this.

But he did.

He can't believe he did all of that.

"Loki?"

Somebody's saying his name. He can hear it, but he can't... hear it.

It's as though the gravity of the whole situation, the whole last decade of his life, comes crashing down on him at once.

It didn't feel so bad at the time. It felt right. It felt natural.

But there was nothing natural about it.

He knows that now.

"Loki, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

He almost doesn't believe it.

He almost doesn't believe he let them do that.

He let them cut him open.

He let them boil him alive.

He let them try to drown him – and then he sobbed when they couldn't. His body fought to keep itself alive, and he apologized.

How could he let this happen?

"Loki?"

There's a hand on his cheek, but there's no warmth to it; no comforting aura. It's different than it was been before. It feels worse, and somehow, that feels better.

He doesn't understand what he saw in her. She's nothing. She's nobody. She did nothing to earn his devotion, yet he would have died for her – so nearly did die for her, more times than he can count.

"Loki, look at me."

He hates taking orders. He's always hated taking orders. How did he forget that? Why has he been so eager to go along with every cruel game everybody has tried to play?

He used to try to fight. He remembers that. In the beginning, he would try to fight it. He didn't want to go in the cage. He didn't want to watch them cut him open. He had to, but he didn't want to.

When did that change? How did he lose that fight?

How could he let this happen to him?

"He's not listening."

"I think you broke him."

Is that what happened?

They broke him.

He's broken.

He's just a fragment of the person he used to be.

They chipped away at him until there was nothing left of who he was, who he used to be. They broke him down and molded him into something new, and he doesn't know if he can find the person he used to be.

"What do I do?"

"I don't know, maybe use the scepter again and see if you can snap him out of it?"

"What if that makes it worse?"

"I don't know how much worse it can get, Nat."

Everything was so much easier under its spell.

Everything was good. Everything had a purpose. He had a purpose. Everything was easier when he had a purpose. That's all gone now.

He's never going to feel the warmth of his former Master's touch again. Even if she touches him, it won't be the same. It won't be her. He's lost his Master; his purpose. He's lost everything. His whole reason to live, to be, is gone.

"Here goes nothing."

A dash of magic flings the scepter out of her hands and across the room.

He's not doing this again.

He'll find his own purpose.

He'll do whatever he has to as long as he doesn't have to go through this again.

The world is so dull now, so lifeless, but it feels real now; real in a way it hasn't felt in years. He feels like himself again, and he's not letting himself lose that feeling again. No purpose is worth losing himself. Not like that.

"Holy shit."

"What the hell was that?"

"Loki!"

Thor.

It's Thor.

Thor is talking to him, grabbing his shoulders, shaking him around.

Thor is here, right here, with him.

It's surreal, to know his brother is here with him. The last time Loki saw him – truly saw him, through his own eyes and in his own mind, untainted by the scepter's touch – was...

Well, it was the funeral.

Does that count? Can he really consider himself to have seen his brother when his brother was nothing but a body; a lifeless corpse shipped out into the ocean and off to Valhalla?

But then, the last time he truly saw Thor would have been when he was banished to Midgard. The last time he saw his brother was after a carefully orchestrated attack on his coronation that had him cast out to his death.

And yet, he's here.

Thor's here anyway.

He's been here since the very moment he heard word that Loki was alive. He's been here by his side, defending him against every injustice, even when Loki himself couldn't see them for what they were.

Thor fought for him.

He doesn't know what he did to deserve that.

"Thor, stop it. You're going to hurt him."

"What's wrong with him? Why won't he say something?"

"I don't know, but this isn't the way to get him to do it."

"Well, we have to do something!"

He never thought he'd have Thor back.

He used to think he'd have the rest of his family back – Frigga, Odin, his faux friends from his homeland. But he never thought he'd have Thor back. He thought Thor was too far gone to save.

The tables, it seems, have turned.

But this is for the best. His family abandoned him in a way Thor never would. He doesn't owe them even a moment of thought when the only person who truly matters is–

Here.

Right here.

Shaking him and pleading with him through his desperation for even the smallest hint of recognition.

He should answer.

He should.

He knows that.

But he's not here.

Not like Thor is.

Everything around him is so unorganized, so chaotic, but within him, there's a sense of tranquility – is it tranquility? Can he call this solemn silence in his heart tranquility? It's quiet, but it's not tranquil. It's not serene. It's just... quiet.

It's quiet within him.

The fog has lifted, that lavender haze the scepter had him under, and now, it's just...

Quiet.

Even amidst the chaos surrounding him, everything feels so quiet.

"Loki, look at me. Please."

A pair of arms wraps around him.

And then it's just sobs.

Thor is sobbing.

And that snaps him out of it.

"Thor," Loki rasps, patting his leg to try getting his attention.

"Mm?" Thor lifts his head, and when he realizes that Loki sees him, truly sees him, he breaks out into a tearful smile. "You're okay," he whispers. "Oh, I'm so glad you're okay. I'm not ready to lose you again."

Loki wants to assure him that he won't, that he never has to worry about losing him again – that he'll never be able to get rid of him, even if he tries. But he can't. He can't say that many words at once. A part of him wants to type it, but he wouldn't even know where to begin. How could he possibly type out everything he wants to say right now?

So he doesn't say anything. He doesn't do anything. But Thor is looking at him and he's looking right back, and right now, that's enough.

"Loki?" Natasha says cautiously. "Are you...?"

Loki raises his gaze to meet hers, eyes narrowed as he looks at her. This is her fault. It wasn't her, but it was still her. In his world, it was her. She did this to him.

And then she didn't help him. That may be the worst part. She didn't want this. None of them wanted this. But they did nothing to fix it. They knew he was broken, knew that she had broken him, and they waited weeks to even try to fix him.

Would he have healed faster as himself – his real self? How much better would he feel now if he'd had the courage to ask for help? If he'd felt comfortable asking for a drink or for a bath or even just for company? But he couldn't. Under her control, he couldn't ask for anything, wouldn't ask for anything. How much progress has he lost because nobody cared?

"Um..." She takes a step back, glancing at her friends uncertainly. "I think it worked."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it did," Scott agrees.

"Uh, Nat," Steve says awkwardly, "do you want to check on Stark? He might need... help..."

It's a poor excuse to get her out of here, but she jumps at it regardless, slipping out of the room and taking Clint with her. It's certainly not a loss in Loki's eyes. Any trust he once had in her is gone now. He doesn't want anything to do with her, now or ever.

Thor rests his hand on his brother's arm, and Loki's attention shifts back to him. "Do you feel alright? What can I do?"

Loki looks around for the Atari controller, and he inches his hand toward it, fighting for the strength to reach his arm all the way out there. Thor moves it closer for him, and Loki grabs hold of it.

He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to do. But what does he want? That one, he can answer.

H

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Thor lets out a long breath. "Perhaps you've forgotten." He says it quietly, as though more to himself than to his brother. "Asgard has been destroyed, brother. There's nothing left."

Loki hasn't forgotten. That's not what he's asking for.

U

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He looks at his brother expectantly. He has to get it. He has to understand–

"I don't know what you're asking, brother," Thor says apologetically.

Loki groans. "Take me–" somewhere else, he wants to say, but his voice cuts out before he can. It seems it's back to the Atari, then.

I

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Thor reads it.

And he reads it.

And he reads it some more.

And just as Loki's about to throw the controller at his head, Scott explains it for him.

"He doesn't want to be here," Scott says. "I think he wants you to take him to... wherever you were before you got here."

Thor looks at his brother, who nods once. That's what he wants. That's exactly what he wants. He wants to go somewhere that isn't here; somewhere that isn't with these people.

Thor furrows his brows. "You want to go to New Asgard?"

Again, Loki nods. New Asgard sounds like exactly where he wants to be right now.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Steve says uncertainly. "I mean, talk to Bruce, but I don't think..."

Loki shoots him a glare. He doesn't care what he thinks. This isn't about him. This is about Loki and Thor and nobody else.

Thor sighs. "He might be right, brother," he admits. "I don't know if I can take care of you myself. I don't know what you need to get better. I don't..." He shakes his head helplessly. "I think we should stay here, at least until you're feeling better."

Loki shakes his head. He's not doing that. He's not. He's not staying here for another few weeks, another few months. He doesn't know if he can handle even one more night in this bed he's been all but chained to for weeks on end in this waking nightmare he didn't even know he was living.

He doesn't want to stay in this room. He doesn't want to stay with these people. He just wants to leave. He wants to put all of this behind him and move on as though it never happened. He knows it won't be that easy. It's going to take more than a change of environment to help him move past this. But this is the first step. He knows it is.

Thor sighs. "Loki, I don't..."

"Please," Loki mouths silently. He needs this. They need this.

Thor just looks at him for a few moments, until finally, he breaks. "Okay," he says. "I'll take you to New Asgard. But I want to talk to Stark first. He's trying to recreate the Gauntlet that Thanos used to wipe out half the universe, and if it's going to work, I want to be here to watch."

Loki stares at him.

He's trying to...

He's...

The Gauntlet...

Wiped out half the...

Does he want to know? He's not sure he wants to know.

"I've gotta bring the scepter back down to him," Steve tells him. "I can tell him to call you if you want to stay here and he can let you know what's going on."

Thor gives him an appreciative smile. "That would be wonderful. Thank you."

Steve gives him a smile of his own, and then he heads out of the room.

Scott clasps his hands in front of him, looking around awkwardly. "You know, I think I'm gonna..." He takes a couple small but pointed steps toward the door.

Thor nods. "Probably wise."

Scott raises his hand in an equally awkward wave, then starts to walk away.

This should be nice. Everybody's leaving. Scott's the only other one here, and when he leaves, it'll be just the brothers, alone at last. That's what he wants. That's what he's waiting for.

And yet, as Scott's walking out the door, Loki stops him.

"Scott."

Scott whips around, a look of incredulity on his face. He gestures to himself. "Me?"

Loki fights the urge to roll his eyes. Who else would he be talking to right now? Is there another Scott in the room that he doesn't know about?

"What, uh..." Scott slips his hands in his pockets. "What's up?"

"Thank you."

He's spoken so much in such a short span that his voice is starting to give out, and he almost fears his fatigue cuts the words off.

But then Scott smiles, a soft, genuine smile, and nods once in response. "Thanks for not dying. I would've felt like shit if this didn't work."

Loki can't help the slight smile that creeps up on his own face. He likes Scott. If he credits anybody with saving his life, it's the man who found his nearly-dead body lying on the floor in another universe and decided with hardly a moment's hesitation that he was going to save this man who was so clearly beyond saving.

He doesn't like these people. He doesn't trust them. He certainly doesn't feel that they're looking out for his best interests; not after they left him here, mind-controlled into obsessing over one of their own.

But Scott is different. He wasn't involved in that. He didn't decide it was fine that Loki couldn't think for himself. He didn't decide that they didn't need to contact Thor for weeks. He wasn't involved in any of that. He just saved Loki's life and then went home to his family – and even still, he came to visit time and time again when he had no real reason to.

So he likes Scott Lang.

He really is a good person.

And with that, Scott slips away, and then it's just Thor and Loki, alone at last.

He feels himself relax a little bit now that they're alone. He doesn't trust these other people anymore. Everything he thought he knew about them was a lie. He trusted them because Natasha trusted them, but he's learned from that mistake.

But he still trusts Thor.

He'll always trust Thor.

Thor gives him a small smile, and Loki gives him a small smile in return. So now what happens? They just wait? They sit here in silence until Thor gets a phone call?

Apparently not, because eventually, Thor breaks the silence. "Are you sure you want to leave?"

Loki nods. He's sure.

"Maybe we should take a few days to think about it," Thor says. "I can't imagine how overwhelming everything must feel right now. I think a few good nights' sleep will–"

Loki pats him on the leg twice and shakes his head firmly. No, he does not want to spend another few nights here. That sounds like a nightmare in the making.

Thor lets out a long breath. "Why?" he asks. "Isn't this nice? There are people here who can take care of you – much better than I can by myself."

Loki raises his shoulders in a small shrug, careful not to strain one of his many rarely used muscles. "I trust you," he mouths.

Thor furrows his brows. "I don't know what you're..."

Loki shakes his head to himself. It's not important enough to type out. He doesn't owe Thor an explanation. He doesn't owe anybody anything – a somewhat strange feeling, now that he's thinking of it; he always felt while he was under the scepter control that he owed everybody everything. He doesn't owe anybody anything. He can think for himself, and right now, thinking for himself means that he wants to leave.

Thor just sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed.

And now they wait.