Loki stood silently. His ear was pressed firmly onto the door so hard that his chances of passing through it were drastically increased. He listened and heard a noise which made his heart hammer faster than he could have imagined. His throat was already unbearably dry and he felt as faint as the images which he could produce with a mere thought. His hand rose to knock but he withdrew it just as quickly and strode down the corridor.

Not tonight.

It had not been tonight for the past eighty two nights, since his arrival back from Midgard. He had been allowed to roam the palace provided that he didn't cause mischief. Mischief he soon discovered included leaving the palace and though he knew numerous ways of escape, without being detected, he'd decided to play by the rules…well, temporarily. Not for Odin. No. It would never be for Odin. It was for Thor.

Every night he approached his brother's chamber and every night he left, as silently as the ghosts which roam graveyards in the dead of night. No two eyes did see him as he strolled down the corridor and no two eyes saw him, as he pushed himself up against the door, hesitantly raise his hand and withdraw it in one slick motion then continue on his way. That isn't to say that one eye didn't see him.

That one eye, whose owner he loathed. Odin. Loki never got to see the All-Father, his eye sparkling with sadness, as he saw his son battling with himself. Loki never got to see that eye, which spied on him, as he ate meals seemingly alone. The eye which saw the bleakness in Loki's features, as he carried out his daily activities never interacting with anyone else in the palace, save for the staff who he would politely nod to when they poured him a drink or served him food. Odin saw all of this and knew not what to do with the intelligence he had acquired. One of his insights did have potential; the one which suggested that the only person who could make Loki function to full capacity again was Thor.

Thor slept fitfully most nights. It had begun when he had arrived back in Asgard. At first he had thought that he was pining for Jane. Indeed he got regular updates of her welfare from Heimdall, whom he visited once a day. Certainly he felt reasonably satisfied when he heard that she was safe and embroiled within her research. But it struck him that he wasn't satiated. On the contrary; he felt famished.

Meanwhile, buried deep into his being and hidden from everyone but most importantly from himself, was an ornately decorated box in his heart labelled 'Loki'. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't shut the lid on it nor move it without causing himself irreparable pain. It took him two weeks of sleepless nights in the palace at Asgard to figure out that his slumber was being prohibited by the whisperings of that box. It called out to him. He needed Loki as much as he needed his left arm. He could live without it, with difficulty, but he preferred to live with it so much more.

Sometime around 3am, he would rise and his feet would make the far-too-familiar trip to Loki's chamber. Some nights he could only hear the empty breeze of the wind, gently blowing strands of hair into his face and tickling his beard. These were the nights when he dreamed desperately that Loki was as much of an insomniac as he was and that he needed Thor as much as Thor needed him. He would then roughly shake his head, as he was but fooling himself and would trudge back to his own chamber, his heart gilded in sadness.

Then there were nights like tonight, when he would hear light, peaceful snores being emitted from behind the door. During these times, he secretly wished that Loki were dreaming about him. Somehow, on the nights when he heard Loki in full-slumber, he would return to his own room, immediately following suit.

However, tonight would be different. Tonight he would venture in, just to catch a glimpse of him. Almost three full-moons had passed, since he had seen more than a whisper of a cloak. He just wanted to confirm to himself that Loki was well. He kept repeating it in his head, as his hand slowly grasped the handle, pulling it down with a surprising deftness, wherein he slowly elbowed the door open, aware that Loki made sure the hinges were well-oiled, so there would be no risk of a betraying creak.

In the room the snores were louder. As Thor stepped in, he had to be careful not to stumble into any of the innumerable stacks of books dotted around the floor. It was unusual behaviour for Loki. He could vividly remember on Loki's twelfth birthday, Frigga had gotten him a beautiful set of books. When Thor had asked if he could look at them, Loki had responded by giving him a lecture on the 'sanctity of books'. How one should never dog-ear their pages, should only ever touch them with clean hands ('yours are always muddy brother or covered in meat!') and the golden rule: they should always be stowed with appropriate due care and attention, which meant shelving them. Thor smiled sadly at the memory, either Loki had changed or he was distracted.

Finally, he turned his attention to his brother. Harmless in his sleep. Thor was surprised how reassured he felt by just looking at Loki. More and more memories flooded back of them as children, until finally he recalled the most recent events in New York. What had happened to that conscientious little boy, who he had known so well?

Having stood as long as he dared, he left as silently as he could manage, dwelling on the thought that Loki's worst enemy was Loki himself. He recalled, how when they were younger, Loki had built a replica of the Bifrost. It was the most beautiful thing Thor had ever seen: crimson, amber, goldenrod, emerald, cerulean, indigo and violet all twinkling. However, Loki seemingly unsatisfied that it wasn't to his exacting standards tore it apart and stormed out of the room. As Thor climbed into bed, he only hoped that this time Loki hadn't torn down himself.

Thor sat devouring his breakfast the next morning, Frigga staring at him with concern and Odin with an interested curiosity. This had happened every morning since he had returned. He would eat alone but he didn't want his parents to have to deal with the absence of both of their sons.

All three of them turned to a sound of the doors being flung open and saw Loki striding towards them face contorted with rage. It was the first time that just the four of them had been in a room together for a long, long time yet no one had expected their first reunion to be like this. The closer Loki got the more his lips curled into a snarl.

'Did you think it wise to step into my room, brother? Do you not think my punishment severe enough, without spying on my unconscious form? You avoid me for months and you decide to brazenly stumble into my chamber, when I'm sleeping. Do you take me for a fool you degenerate nimbus?'

Thor stared open mouthed, as Loki's fist barrelled towards him. Loki, though slight, punched as well as any of the men whom Thor drank with regularly in the taverns and Thor could almost feel the black eye forming, as soon as Loki's fist collided with his face.

'Guards!' Odin commanded, 'Take Loki to a cell and make sure he doesn't leave.'

'I can handle this father!' Thor yelled, attempting to stop the guards from reaching Loki.

'Make sure Thor accompanies him to the cell and lock him in it too,' Odin said, whilst Frigga frowned at him. The last sight that Thor saw before leaving the hall was Odin, looking strangely triumphant.

He followed the guards, half dragging, half carrying Loki downstairs.

'He can walk for himself,' Thor growled. The guards threw a look at Thor, nevertheless loosening their grip on Loki's arms.

Finally, they reached the lone cell a couple of floors below their own rooms. Odin had only ever locked them down there twice, to Frigga's strong disapproval. Both times it had been for the night. Both times it was because they'd been fighting. Only this time they weren't boys any more. Nonetheless, the one thing that hadn't changed since the last time was that ten minutes later Frigga quietly slipped them some cookies, before sneaking off.

'Soooooo…' Loki looked at Thor, then grimaced as he realised the harm he had caused to his face. 'I'd say I'm sorry but I'm reeaaally not.' He winked. Thor acknowledging that it was the closest he'd get to an apology.

Thor was first to pick up a cookie. It was a game that he and Loki had developed. Who couldn't stand the awkward silence the most? Who picked up the cookie first? This time was no different to the last two. As Thor was picking his cookie off the plate, his fingers brushed past Loki's, who picked one up immediately afterward. Thor looked at him questioningly.

'I won. I deserve the reward,' Loki smirked.

'Only I beat you twelve weeks ago, so I earned the first cookie.' Thor retorted. He had meant it to lighten the atmosphere but he regretted saying it, as he and Loki exchanged darkened glances.

'Do you despise me, brother? Do you sit there and wish me dead?' Loki whispered harshly.

'No.' Thor breathed.

'Me either,' Loki murmured, 'I'm too handsome for that.'

Thor raised one eyebrow at him.

'I missed you Loki.'

'And I, you, Thor.'

They both went silent for a few moments as they respectively pretended that they weren't crying or wiping away tears. They then diligently finished off the plate of cookies and got ready for bed.

'And yet, still, they only give us one single bed. Do they think it's comfortable for one of us to sleep on the floor?' Loki grumbled, yet they both knew that neither of them would be sleeping on the floor, it was custom that they shared. Yes, Loki did usually end up elbowing Thor in the face and Thor snored like a warthog with flu but they were family. They both fell asleep next to each other. Loki got to be little spoon.

The next morning Odin greeted them, with the ghost of a smile playing around his lips.

'I trust you have learnt your lesson.' He said sombrely.

'Yes, father.' The boys replied simultaneously, one more forced and sneering than the other.

Thor took Loki to his room; he had promised him last night that he would show him something- something that proved that some things were worth fixing. As they had both realised the night before, Thor couldn't live without his metaphorical left arm and Loki couldn't function efficiently without Thor.

'Now, I don't want to get mad at me, Loki. You have to promise not to give me another black eye to match this beautiful-blossoming-berry one here,' Thor stated.

'I can try, Thor, but you look so stunning with that long-lasting eye shadow. You outshine any fair maiden in Asgard!' Loki sniggered.

His sniggering was cut short, as his eyes rested on what Thor wanted to show him.

'You…you kept it after all this time?' Loki stared; sounding much younger than his years, as his model of the Bifrost glimmered in numerous twinkling shades. He threw his arms around a very surprised Thor, who whispered into Loki's ear:

'Some things in life are too beautiful to be wrecked but sometimes it's not until they're wrecked before you realise how beautiful they truly are.'

AN: I've felt like writing a Thor fic for some time but didn't know if I could. So I hope you enjoyed it, if so please review. If not, then I'd appreciate any constructive crit. Thanks for reading. Hope you have a good night/day/afternoon/evening!