It had been two weeks since he had 'died'. Two weeks since Loki Laufeyson was no more, two weeks since 'Odin' had agreed to let Thor return to Midgard. Two weeks since the real Odin had fallen into the Odinsleep, the last word that passed his lips being 'Loki'.

The God of Mischief was sat beside his foster father's bedside, staring through the shimmering veil of magic at the old, worn face of the king. The real king.

(Who am I? Why am I doing this?)

He remembered the last time he was so close to his father, in the weapons vault, talking towards the Allfather with a black fury that threatened to break and tear and shatter Loki until there was nothing left. And that was what had happened. Two days later, on the Rainbow Bridge, hanging on for his life, when a simple 'No' ended everything. Loki may have survived falling through the void, but his sanity still drifted about somewhere between the branches of Yggdrasil.

(A monster, that is what I am, and I am doing what monsters to. Taking and taking and taking until there is nothing left.)

Then he remembered the pain- the excruciating, mind-numbing pain- that had followed after he crashed on that barren moon. For one, long, agonising year Loki was in the hands of the Chitauri- (Thanos. He promised me pain, and he keeps his promises. Thanos will come for me.)- and his sanity slipped even further from his grasp. All he knew was anger, pain, a thirst for vengeance and the promise of power that the Tesseract gave him.

Then on Midgard, fighting his brother- (He is not my brother!)- and the strange mortals that were not as weak as he had originally thought. He wondered briefly how many he had slaughtered that day, and even though he knew that his mind had not been his own, Loki could not suppress the guilt that gripped his heart, weighing it down as though Mjolnir was on his chest.

(If they knew the truth, would they still condemn me? Would trust me?)

The death of his mother, the way he had screamed and clawed and punched and kicked at the walls of his infernal cell until he was exhausted. The only one of his family- (Not my family. Never my family.)- that he still loved- (Love? Love is a lie. All it brings is pain, pain, and more pain. I am tired of pain.)- and he could not save her. All he could do was sit in his cell and scream; scream for everything that once was, for everything he lost, for being unable to save his mother- (She was never my mother.)- and for not even being able to see her off to Valhalla.

Escaping Asgard with Thor and the mortal woman, Jane-

(Are you mad?)

(Probably.)

-and yelling out his fury with the Thunder God. Loki had glared into his once-brother's blue eyes- (Blue eyes, blonde hair, tanned skin; just like every other Asgardian. How was I so blind?)- with hate and malice, wishing for Thor to know everything, for him to see the truth but not wanting to tell him. Thor wouldn't have believed him anyway.

(I wish I could trust you.)

Sitting on the throne of Asgard for the first time in two years- (Only two years? It feels like a lifetime ago.)- in the guise of Odin Allfather, the very man he sat beside now, and lying to Thor. It was so easy to him, but it still hurt. He hated it, but it still hurt him to lie to Thor.

(Trust my rage.)

Loki stood, never taking his eyes of the Allfather. (It would be so easy to kill you, to slit your throat right here and now. You would be powerless against me, and I could have everything I want.)

(I never wanted the throne! I only ever wanted to be your equal!)

He frowned at the memory. Did he want the throne?

(So you would take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights?)

And that was where Thor was both right and wrong. He had wanted to rule Midgard then, while under the influence of the Tesseract, but not beforehand. Not now, either. Loki didn't want that. (So what is it I want?) Peace, he realised. All Loki wanted was to live out the remainder of his days however short they may be- in peace. He no longer wanted to kill- the rage he had felt was long gone, leaving him hollow and exhausted- or destroy things. He simply wanted rest.

(I've grown soft.) But he no longer cared. He had nothing left to care about.

Leaning over the old king, Loki said softly, "You should have left me in that temple to die, as was my birthright. Instead you raised a monster to be an even worse creature. An abomination. Now you must live with the knowledge that I am your creation. Do not try to send a search party, because I will be long gone by then. Farewell, Odin Allfather. Enjoy the rest of your lonely days."

He ignored the stab of guilt he felt as he spoke his last words and spun on his heel. As he reached the doors, he did not open them, but instead opened a portal. Without looking back, Loki stepped through into a random realm.

(Trust my rage.)

(What is there to trust when the rage has gone?)

A/N: So, that was just a little one shot. Tell me in a review if you'd like it to turn into a full story, because I've got loads of ideas. Updates would be slow, of course, because I already have another story in progress, but I've been dying to write a Thor/Avengers story since the films came out. Me being me, this story would probably turn out to have a lot of angst and possibly some torture in it, so just tell me if you'd like to see where it could go.