*Completed* Sympathy for the Devil (Loki)

Part 1

     I,

     Thor,

     Son of Odin, guardian of the nine realms, to some, god of thunder, to others, a friend, mighty beyond compare, warrior, wielder of Mjolnir, and all the other magnificent titles bestowed upon me,

     Was a failure.

     For all my achievements, for all my great and noble titles, I truly was nothing as I stood over the battered, shaking form of my baby brother. For, if one cannot protect their family, are they really any hero at all?

     Loki stared up at me as if he didn't believe I was real. Not only that he didn't believe I was, but that he knew for a fact that I wasn't. His blank gaze rested in disinterest upon my face as though I was nothing more than a slight distraction to his agony. "Loki?" I stepped forward anxiously, holding out a hand to show him that I meant no harm.

     He kept staring as if I was some show, waiting for the next scene, the next line. He didn't even acknowledge that I had spoken.

     Gently, I lifted his head off the tiled floor, and that's what caught his attention. With a quick intake of breath, he shook himself and stared up at me in bewilderment. A tentative, shaky, and so frail hand reached up to brush along my face, and then came the reaction I'd been expecting. But... it wasn't exactly the right reaction.

     As soon as he'd confirmed to himself that I was, indeed, real, he threw himself backwards, scrambling into the furthest corner of his cell, huddling in a terrified ball, his wide, blood-shot eyes fixed on mine.

     "Brother..." I honestly had no idea what to say. He wasn't supposed to be afraid of me. He wasn't supposed to be in a rotten spaceship, anyway, but I had thought he'd be glad to see me. That there would be hugs, maybe happy tears, not... fear. "I won't hurt you." I tried and approached him a little more gently.

      Despite his feeble attempts to escape, to beat me off of him, I managed to gather him up in my arms and hold him close. "there, there..." I crooned, more disbelieving than anything else. "It'll be alright. I've got you. I've got you, and I won't let you go."

     Loki stared up at me as I rocked him, and, whether it was the tears in my eyes or some other way he could tell I spoke the truth, he abruptly changed his mind about me and immediately clung to me like a limpet, burying his face in my shoulder as he continued to tremble until he suddenly passed out.

     He was so weak, so broken, and my heart ached for him. I set my jaw, lifted him, held him close to my chest, and glanced upward. "Heimdall." I quietly called, a gut instinct warning me not to make loud noises or sudden movements around this broken shell which was my brother.

     It was all that I could do to keep the tears at bay as the Bifrost sucked the both of us up, and we appeared in the observatory. Queen Frigga immediately rushed to my side, eyes wide in fear, as she sent a glance to the limp body I carried. "He lives?" She asked, and I nodded.

     "But only barely. We must get him to the healers, and quickly." I worried my lip as I began making my way down the long walk of the rainbow bridge. My mother walked alongside me, eyes forward, head held high, but tears were streaming down her cheeks. "You did well, my son." She nodded. "I'm proud of you."

     I only nodded. How could I tell her that every time someone said that to me, it reminded me of a time no one had said that to Loki? I couldn't help but blame myself. If only I had loved him more, he wouldn't have let go of that spear. If only he had heard how I admired him more often, my brother wouldn't have driven him to the madness that had overtaken him. I had killed the Titan that kept him captive if only to avenge him, but he could have avoided all this pain had I just told him... listened to him... felt his pain for once in my life.

     "You're thinking." Frigga noticed, and I nodded.

     "Very unpleasant thoughts." She went on. "Thor, darling... this was not your fault."

     "Sure feels like it..."

     Frigga laid a hand on my bicep insistently. "Thor. His choices were his alone."

     I only sighed and kept going. I would need to right the wrong I had done my brother. If it took me the rest of my days, I would pay for what I'd done.

Loki's POV

     I blinked my eyes open to an unfamiliar sight. Not the unfriendly, stone ceiling of my cell, that seemed to hold a thousand taunting shadows, but a cheerful, golden roof, sloping upward towards a skylight, from which filtered the fairly-like glow filled the room with.

     I'd done it.

     I'd finally died.

     This was Valhalla.

     I felt a smile creep across my features as I relaxed into the soft, downy pillows. No more pain... No more Chitauri... I could rest until I felt well enough to rise, and then I would join the fallen warriors at Bor's table. Oh, wouldn't Thor and Father and Mother be proud of me? Closing my eyes, I began to drift off, when...

     "Brother? You're awake?"

     Oh, no.

     This was certainly not Valhalla.

     I snapped my eyelids open, again, only to see That Horrid Oafish Relative, otherwise known as Thor.

     That was when it all came rushing back to me. Thor had come. At first, I'd thought it was a figment of his imagination, nothing but a cruel trick his mind was playing on him. But then, Thor had touched me. I had felt his large, strong hands on my face, and I knew my mind could not replicate that.

     Thor had come for me, had rescued me, and I could not be more grateful.

     However, I was too weak to do anything but stare blankly up at my brother's sunny, golden face.

     "Brother! Are you feeling better?" Thor enthused, cupping my cheek gently in one hand. The warmth, the absolute, undeniable love in his gaze, touched my very soul. I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve any of this. I was a monster, and Thor was supposed to kill me. Wasn't he?

     He didn't seem to have any malicious intent as of then. I decided to let Thor be Thor, and when he did finally kill me, I'd be grateful for the moment of peace he'd granted to me. Carefully, I nodded and discovered I was far weaker than I thought I'd been.

      "Mother's here to see you." The blonde oaf went on. "Would you like her company?"

     Eagerly, I nodded, again, a faint smile upon my lips. Mother... how long had it been since I'd seen her? How long since her cool hand stroked my hair, or her soft voice gently comforted me? I was only too eager to see her again. She joined Thor at my bedside and gave a smile and a kiss to my head. I smiled back, my eyes filled with tears. I was home. I wouldn't ever have to be in pain again. It was all over.

     "My son..." Frigga sighed and took my thin, shaking hands in her own. "How are you feeling?"

     I offered her another shaky smile and squeezed her hand.

     "Loki?" Thor tilted his head. "Are you too weak to speak?"

     Mutely, I shook my head, casting a remorseful glance down at my hands. They didn't understand. How could they? They weren't monsters like I. They'd lived their whole lives being good enough, being worth something.

     I was nothing. I didn't deserve them. I didn't deserve to exist.

     "Perhaps we should let you rest, for now, darling." Frigga gently laid a hand on my head as if feeling for a fever. "You have survived much."

     That was the understatement of the century. But it was true. All my aches and hurts were slowly numbing to a fuzzy, overwhelming haze of sleep already. I fought to keep my eyelids open, but there wasn't much I could do.

     I was exhausted, and slumber soon overtook me.