Loki forced himself to watch.

He heard his brothers' muffled scream as Thanos snapped his doubles' neck. He saw the way Thor practically wrapped himself around, what he believed to be, Loki's dead body.

He didn't expect Thor to mourn him like that… not after he'd already been considered dead twice now.

However, it was his own reaction that was surprising.

Watching Thor suffer is like a fist turning his insides, wringing them, tearing him apart.

He knows he needs to do this, but it was almost impossible not to reveal himself at crucial moments… make a dramatic entrance, just to see Thor smile again.

But no…. he needed to die, in order for Thor to live. Because if Thor lived, then the chances of defeating Thanos increased.

And he was.

Stark may have died, as did Captain America…. But Thanos was dead and Thor was alive.

Thor had moved back into the Avengers Compound for a time, helping out every so often, although not with the usual enthusiasm he usually entered into a fight.

He wasn't moving on.

…

It's so lonely and quiet without Loki.

The feeling was the same every time.

Days of silence… waking up in a pool of sweat from another nightmare, another nightmare that involved watching his brother being murdered again and again and again. His hands feel empty and useless without Loki in his reach. His lips were needless without Loki's lips pressed against them.

Without Loki… what was left?

He felt hollow.

As the rest of the Avengers mourned the loss of their friends, Thor sat hardly listening and stared into his pint as if Loki's face might appear there. His heart felt like it had been shattered…stomped on, ripped apart and burnt to ashes.

….

Time went by so painfully slow.

A day stretched ahead of him like an endless desert, but they did pass by.

Loki kept himself focused on getting rid of the last few supporters of Thanos, only diverting his attention away from that for a few moments in order to check in on his brother.

Thor just seemed to be… existing. Certainly not living.

Watching him through the scry, Loki whispered unheard reassurances to his brother.

"Thor, I will come back."

"Thor… I promise you're not alone."

….

Time went by.

It had gone by exactly 8 months, 4 days, 6 hours and 20 minutes since Loki was killed.

Nothing had got easier.

Every dream involved Loki… every dream included the sound of his neck snapping under Thanos's grip.

Around the 6-month mark, he had tried going out with Jane again… a date couldn't have gone any worse even if he'd tried. He actually flinched away from her when she tried to reach out and take his hand, his mind automatically flashing to Loki and how those slim, but talented, hands fit in his.

He didn't try again, and thankfully, Jane understood that.

Now, after eight months of mourning, he was finally back out with the rest of the Avengers, although only when they really, really needed him. The rest of the time, he was at his own apartment, trying to avoid sleeping, taking on odd projects to take his mind off of the silence.

Outside the flat, sat a homeless man.

Homelessness was a foreign concept in Asgard, so it had un-nerved him when first coming to Midgard.

Now, he sadly accepted it as a fact of life. Some people just couldn't afford to live properly on Midgard.

He always bought the man an extra sandwich and drinks, handing it to him and heading up the stairs to his apartment…. Not noticing that he was being followed.

"I told you brother…."

Thor stopped in his tracks at the familiar voice, slowly turning around as the image of the homeless man shimmered slightly, revealing a smirking face.

"…. The sun will shine on us again."

Stunned for a few moments, Thor shook his head, "Loki?"

"I'm here."