I know that I should be working on something else (*cough* Blood of my Blood *cough*) but this idea just popped into my head and would not let go.

English is not my native language, so there might be some mistakes. Also, I wrote this before going out, so yeah.

Happy holidays, everyone!

None of the Avengers trusted Loki, but they acknowledged the fact that he was important for the defeat of Thanos. So they put up with him and lived with him in the Stark Tower for the greater good.

Thor didn't trust him either.

How could he? The Trickster had faked his own death more than once, had been willing to do anything in order to take the throne for himself, had wreaked havoc upon Asgard and Midgard. His brother was no longer in there; he had been devoured by a monster.

As he stood in the room with Loki, he couldn't prevent his memories from flowing in his mind. He remembered of old times, of better times, when he and Loki were two youngsters in Asgard. Back then they would stay in either's chamber and talk for so long that they even missed meals without realising it (which was not normal when it came to Thor). Now the room was silent as the grave.

"You look gloomy, Thor," the Trickster observed.

Thor did not favour him with a reply.

"Oh dear. Have we run out of Pop Tarts?"

"Shut up, Liesmith."

Loki chuckled. "That's rude," he commented. "Since we live in the same place, we might as well be civil."

Thor snorted and shook his head. "I wish we didn't. I wish we didn't need you. I wish you were locked up somewhere, being punished for all your crimes."

"I love you too, dear brother."

"Don't call me that. I'm not your brother, you've said that yourself repeatedly."

"In case it hasn't dawned on you yet, I was being sarcastic, you mindless oaf."

Thor decided to use the Trickster's own weapon - words - against him. "How does it feel to live with people who would just love to kill you?" he asked, his voice cold and dangerous. "How does it feel to be surrounded by enemies?"

Loki's smug expression slowly melted off his handsome face, but the Thunderer did not fall for that. The sadness that he saw in those emerald eyes was nothing but a trick; that was all that Loki ever did. "The only enemy that matters is Thanos," he said, his words barely audible.

"For now. You pretend to be our ally so that we can bring Thanos down together; but once that's done, you'll try to take us down and take over Midgard."

Loki exhaled a laugh. "Thor the fortuneteller," he mocked.

"It will not happen, Loki," Thor threatened. "None of us trusts you. We know that you are rotten. We have all seen your foulness."

Something seemed to snap inside Loki, and Thor was actually glad to see that. Loki was always so composed and calm, even when he was offended. He always had his wit and his words to poison everyone around him. An angry Loki used no tricks. An angry Loki was the closest thing there was to the real Loki.

"Do you want proof?" Loki asked, the tone of his voice rising with each word. "Is that what you want?"

Before Thor could say anything, Loki was walking towards him, anger and determination making him move fast. The golden-haired god expected a fight and was more than ready for it. Gone were the times when he would not lay a finger on his brother. Loki was now a stranger, a criminal, a danger to all. He was an enemy of Asgard, and the enemies of Asgard always got a taste of Mjolnir, or at least Thor's fists.

However, Loki did not attack him. He did not even look at him. His gaze moved to Thor's hammer instead. Thor watched him. Was he trying to destroy it with his magicks? He would be very disappointed then. Did he see things that no one else saw, just like Odin AllFather did?

Loki took one deep breath and then Mjolnir was in his hands. He didn't have his long fingers on the hammer; he was holding it. He had lifted it somehow. Thor's baby blue eyes widened in shock, and his father's words came to mind.

Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.

There was a time when Thor himself had been unable to lift Mjolnir. Even his fellow Avengers had failed to achieve that. And yet, there Loki was, holding the powerful hammer in his right hand as though it weighed nothing. Loki, who had never before been able to lift Mjolnir. Loki, the Trickster, the Silver-Tongue, the God of Mischief, the Father of Lies, the Harbinger of Destruction.

He finally met Thor's gaze, but there was no arrogance there. He didn't look triumphant. If anything, he looked tired. Tired and bitter and sad. Thor couldn't help but remember all those times that Loki had had that look on his face and then had made it disappear by putting a big smile on. He couldn't help but think of all the things the Asgardians said of Loki; when he found out, Thor had felt so foolish for not noticing it before and putting an end to it - and he had also comprehended how much sadness and bitterness his little brother had been carrying inside him all his life, never sharing his burden with anyone.

"Is that proof enough for you?" Loki asked, his voice just above a whisper.

Thor wanted to weep. He wanted to scream and smash everything around him. He wanted to hold Loki in his protective arms and apologise for everything and nothing. He wanted to ask him why he had never asked for his help, why he had decided to massacre an entire species and destroy entire worlds instead of just expressing his rage and hate and self-loathing in words that could be answered. He wanted to beat him for his arrogance and comfort him as he cried in his embrace, finally letting go as Thor promised him the world and whispered sweet nothings to him.

Nevertheless, before he could say anything, Loki walked out of the room.