Chapter Text
The heat was beyond comprehension.
With each second that energy radiated from the stone, the wreckage of the Commodore seemed to buckle under its unrelenting heat. Fires burned in every direction. The Mad Titan himself, ever cool and purposeful, scorched the air around him with his new-found power.
Thor’s temples burned beneath his touch. Thick fingers had seized him by the head, blissfully blurring the image of his people, slaughtered, and the world had gone dark. When the light had returned, more of his people were dead and the oppressive air coated his skin with sweat.
His brother refused to meet his eye. Thanos’ demands for the Tesseract grew louder and more insistent in spite of Thor’s repeated refusal. A traitorous spike of suspicious cut through him as Loki twisted to face him, briefly catching his eye. In Loki’s eyes lay apology and mischief. Always mischief.
He stepped, finally, from the shadows and forced his grim expression into wicked cool. Thor had seen the masked fear in his brother’s face when he saw Thanos. Thor wondered whether it was not the first time that they had met. Loki had handed over the Tesseract with the air of someone who’s fate had finally caught up to them.
You really are the worst brother. In days gone by, he might have stuck by those words. Through the thickness of pain and terror, Thor saw only flashes of his brother’s actions. Only when he spoke again did Thor come back to awareness, head throbbing.
“If I might interject,” his words made Thor sick. “If you’re going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have a bit of experience in that arena.”
“If you consider failure experience.” Thanos’ words were cool but venomous. Through centuries of silent understanding, Thor saw the moment that his brother began to doubt his survival.
“I consider experience experience.” He knew his brother mad. Of course he did. Mischievous, wicked trickster that he was, Loki did not have the concerns of Aesir or mortal men. But Thor could not see his game. Surely he did not intend to guide Earth to destruction once again?
“Almighty Thanos. I, Loki, Prince of Asgard. Odinson. The rightful king of Jotunheim. God of mischief. Do hereby pledge to you my undying fidelity.” The knife materialised in his hand and Thor felt his stomach plummet. His brother’s plan was to die.
He felt rather than saw his brother’s fear, wave after wave of it matching his own. The power of the space stone didn’t allow the dagger within half a foot of the Titan’s throat. Loki’s arm shook under the force of it.
“Undying?” Thor’s heart stopped in his chest. Every survival instinct gone, he strained to reach out to his brother.
“You should choose your words more carefully.”
The image of it would never leave him. His brother was tall, tall enough to make a fierce warrior think twice about attacking him, but the Titan dwarfed him. His kicking was futile and they both knew it.
Blood trickled from Loki’s nose, but still he looked Thanos in the eye.
“You – will never be – a god.”
Thor thought that the worst thing he could ever hear was the sound of his brother’s last words. As horror swept over him, his every sense shrunk away from the sound of bones cracking under Thanos’ grip.
Thor didn’t mean to cry out, but he couldn’t help it. Anguish such that he had never felt, final, irreversible anguish, filled his chest as the Titan dropped his brother’s corpse at his feet.
“No resurrections this time.”'
Lifting the gauntlet to his chest, Thanos and his Children left the ruins of the ship in a flurry of ash and blue light. As his prison fell away, Thor crawled with what little strength he had left and cast himself on top of Loki’s body. He offered a silent prayer to whoever would listen that this was another trick. One final trick. Just for him.
How much loss could one man bear? Thanos had raved, in their final moments, of freeing up resources, of saving the remaining lives. He had seemed to care little that they had already lost over half of their people. They had a handful under four hundred people left out of nearly ten thousand, and Thor’s heart broke for every single one of them.
Tears fell freely despite the heat. He tightened his grip on Loki’s leathers, attempting to press the pain that coursed through him into that one tensed fist.
Until the body disappeared beneath him.
A cautious hand touched his shoulder, careful not to press too hard into his aching muscles. Pulling himself up, Thor twisted around, almost collapsing into senselessness when he saw his brother behind him, wearing a wounded, fearful smile.
“The sun, once again, as promised.”
The last remnants of his illusion faded, coating him in a film of green light. It flickered and extinguished, leaving weariness on his face that told of unexplained fear.
Silently, Thor drove himself to his feet and threw his arms around Loki, ignoring the pain in his head.
“One last trick. What you asked me for,” Loki said, sniffing and trying to steady his shaking hands, “on the ship.”
Thor hugged him tighter. “Brother.”
“It was Mother’s favourite trick, duplication casting.” He sniffed again, attempting to clear the tears and blood from his nose. “I thought it was only fitting.”
“She’d have been proud of you, brother. Very proud.”
They stood for a while, among the burning rubble of the Commodore, embracing. Their world burned around them, purple flames enveloping more and more of the structure. They had little time for spoken grief or reconciliation. When it became clear that they had no time left, they broke apart and looked around them.
Thor’s eyes fell on a golden glint in the rubble. Stumbling towards it, he pulled Heimdall’s sword from beneath a cluster of rock.
“I thought he left it behind,” Loki said, running his fingers along the blade. “Can you summon the Bifrost?”
“I don’t know.” Thor’s lightning crackled weakly from his fingers. Heimdall had been the gatekeeper for as long as either of them had been alive. Under his watch, nobody else had needed to summon the path between worlds.
With all the concentration his strained mind could muster, Thor called out to the Bifrost, letting its encompassing power flow freely through him. The familiar feeling of the way home built, built and exploded as the Bifrost came to their rescue.