Title: Lost in the Echo
Author: halfmyheart
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: None
Characters: Loki, Thor, Hawkeye
Summary: Avengers tag. Loki was beaten, but Thor refused to believe that he was broken.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of Paramount Pictures and Marvel Studios. This form of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcomed. Please read and review.
Status: Complete. Oneshot.

He was shaking. His hands were clenched into tight fists and thrust deep into the folds of his clothes to mask the unmistakable trembling. He could feel his nails biting deep into the tender flesh of his palms, leaving painful red crescents, but no matter how hard he tried, or how much he detested it, he could not stop his body from betraying his fear to his brother.

Thor eyed him suspiciously from across the room where he was standing, deep in conversation with the Son of Stark and the Man out of Time. They were pouring over a small object that looked frighteningly akin to a muzzle he had once used in boyhood to silence his brother's boisterous hunting dog. It did not take a genius, or anyone of extraordinary intellect for that matter, to figure out just what the small object was and who it was likely intended for. Loki shuddered at the mere thought of that object attached to his face but forced a lid on his emotions as best he could. Defeated or not, he refused to be regarded as weak by his enemies.

He watched Thor nod gravely and then his brother turned on his heel and strode with purpose over to where he was sitting, manacled to the wall, and under the watchful eye of both the Hulk and Clint Barton.

The god of thunder knelt in front of him and dismissed his comrades with a wave of his hand. Barton balked and shook his head vehemently, reluctant to stray too far from Loki's side lest he attempt to free himself.

He's afraid he might miss a golden opportunity to put one of his arrows through my heart, thought Loki with bitter amusement.

Thor jerked his head and pointed toward the opposite side of the room with a no nonsense frown that the human would have been a fool to disregard. Barton grudgingly walked away, his eyes promising a swift but painful death should the god of mischief try to escape. Loki returned his cool glare with a sporting sneer and Barton's fingers curled into white knuckled fists around his bow, itching to notch an arrow and put it straight through Loki's eye socket. The god of mischief could read the Hawk like a book, just as his brother appeared to read him.

"You're shaking, brother," said Thor quietly once the other man was out of earshot. His eyes were colored with concern and the trickster was almost touched. "Are you alright?"

Loki refrained from dignifying that question with an answer. Of course he was not alright. He was bound and chained to a wall, bloody and defeated at the hands of a huge green monster with some unsettling anger management issues, an archer with no other apparently abilities or skills besides murder, a man made of iron, a man sheathed in spangly spandex, and a woman with a forked tongue that rivaled his own in some regards. It was certainly not the grand and glorious battle he had had in mind, nor was the outcome something that he would have predicted in a thousand years. The meager might of Earth wasn't so meager after all. Or rather, the Avengers weren't meager as they had refused to lie down and die at the hands of his army.

"The Son of Stark insists that I put this on you," said his brother when he did not response. "He says that your mouth is your most dangerous weapon, and I am inclined to agree. I'm surprised that you have no yet attempted to talk your way out of this situation, and it puzzles me even further that you have yet to say a word at all since your capture. This behavior is most unlike you and I find myself worrying that trouble is brewing in the silence between us."

Loki swallowed hard around the painful lump in his throat as he watched Thor turn the muzzle over and over in his hands as if debating whether or not to go through with his appointed task of gagging him with it.

"It will not hurt," he said at last. "Do not be afraid of it."

The trickster scoffed, "Why would I be afraid of a piece of metal?"

"Is this not why you are shaking so?" He held the muzzle up to eye level. "You fear being bound and gagged? It brings back bad memories of days long past for both of us, I know, but this is painless, I promise." He stopped to gauge Loki's reaction and obviously read something there that steered him closer to the truth than he would ever guess on his own. "Or is it something else that you fear? Something much more immediate and permanent than a piece of metal on your face?"

Loki looked away, unable to meet the other man's gaze. He hated it when Thor played the sentiment card, and this conversation reeked of a heartache in the making.

"You are afraid, brother. I have never seen you in such a state. Does the prospect of facing Odin's wrath make you shake so? He is but our father, a man would do the right thing by his son, a man who mourned for you when we thought you lost, a man who will be happy to see you home despite your childish tantrum. What punishment do you believe awaits that could cause such tremors in the god of mischief?"

Loki scowled, long and dark and deep; he couldn't help it. The mere mention of the man he had once called father brought out the worst in him. He felt a surge of anger rip up his spine and he nearly lashed out at Thor for mentioning the man's name. He took a deep breath and forced a sardonic smile onto his face.

"Odin? What have I to fear from Odin? What punishment can he mete out that could possibly be any worse that what awaits me at the hands of my so-called allies. Nay, brother, I am not afraid of Odin. Odin can do his worst and it would not come close to the pain my failure has wrought. It may not come now, it may not come for a thousand years, but it will come and when it does it will make whatever tortures Odin can concoct look like child's play. You think you know fear, you don't know the meaning of the word."

The pity in Thor's eyes washed over Loki in waves so strong he could almost taste it. It was bitter and hard and he did not like it one bit. Not one bit.

"Oh, do not pity me. I have earned this punishment just as surely as you have earned the glory of bringing me home to face the justice of the Allfather."

"There is no glory in seeing my brother brought to his knees," said Thor softly, his eyes burning with a wretchedness that set Loki's heart on fire.

"Then perhaps you should look away," replied Loki scathingly, unwilling to let Thor's emotions cloud his anger. "I would hate for you to tarnish yourself with my failings."

He watched a myriad of emotions sweep across his brother's face: anger, disappointment, love, resignation, fear, sadness, defeat. For a moment, he was afraid the other man would reach out and hug him or slap him and curse him for all he was worth, but the other man simply stared at him until Loki began to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

"Just put that thing on my face and be done with it." He spat. "Stop stalling and be a man."

"Why do you stay?" Asked Thor, powerless to understand, and clearly unable to let the conversation die a quite death as Loki wished he would. "Why do you not try to run? Is there some respect in your heart for our father after all, or is there a fear of the man that you will not admit to that keeps you from fleeing?"

"Respect? Fear? Is there a difference? Are they not one and the same?"

"No. They are not the same thing," said Thor thoughtfully. "You can beat a dog and make it stay, but it is fear, not respect, that keeps it at your side."

Loki smiled wryly. This was an analogy he knew all too well. "And when the dog has had enough? When he finally sees the light? What is to stop him from biting off the hand of the master who abused him so? What is to stop me from lashing out at the Allfather once you've brought me home?"

Thor shook his head in disbelief. "You were never abused, Loki. You were loved by all. It is your own self-hatred that twists our words and muddies the waters of our love."

"No, I was not the one who twisted the truth. I was merely the lie that propagated the necessity for deceit."

"How can you be so bitter? After everything that our father has done, after the life he has given you, how can you be so insensitive and cold? Was it really a lie that he kept the truth from you? Or was it just an omission of the truth for the sake of love? Father kept your true parentage a secret because he was trying to protect you, to make you feel like you were a part of something bigger than yourself, part of a family that truly loved you even when you could not love yourself."

"Are they not the same thing?" Loki asked again, tiring of this dance. "Do they both not sting when revealed in truth? Do they not fester and destroy once given voice? An omission is a lie that someone cannot bear to call a lie because they know in their heart that each is just as deceitful and damning as the next. Both cause irreparable rifts and irrevocable pain. The word omission just sounds fancier and less deceitful, softer and more pleasing to the ears of the liar."

"Call it whatever you like, brother," Thor responded flatly, finally at a loss. "It changes nothing."

"Well, at least we agree about that much," said Loki pointedly.

"We used to agree on so much more," replied the god of thunder. "We may not be blood brothers, but we are brothers whether you would have it or not. This childish tantrum of yours could never change the way I feel about you in my heart. That is what family is all about: they love you regardless of the terrible things that you do and they forgive you your sins when no one else will. Someday I hope you understand, brother."

Loki scowled and refused to meet Thor's gaze. His soul was wounded far more by his brother's words than by any arrow the Hawk could have shot into his body because he knew the other man was right. Deep down in his heart of hearts, somewhere that he refused to look for fear of finding love still stirring there, Loki knew that Thor would never give up on trying to save him from himself. The question was not did he deserve to be saved, Thor appeared to think that no one was too far beyond redemption, no matter the scale of their sins, the question was did he want to be saved.

In truth, he did not know the answer. A part of him said yes. His was the heart of a lost child, suppliant for the love of a distant father, living in the shadow of an older brother with whom he desired to be nothing more than equals. Another part of him, the part that had grown taciturn and hard during his exile, said no. He did not need to be saved because there was nothing left in him worth saving. The darkness had ravaged his soul and the emptiness had turned it to ice. He was lost in the echo of a life that had been built on a lie and he could not find a handhold in the dark that would save him from his descent into the abyss. Except for Thor.

His brother was reaching out, trying to grasp ahold of him in the darkness, but Loki was too stubborn and too prideful to accept his help and it would be the death of him someday.

He sat completely still, his spine as straight as one of Hawkeye's fancy arrows, while Thor attached the muzzle to his face. It was tight, slightly painful despite Thor's assurances to the contrary, and it became quite hot very quickly because he was breathing through his mouth in an attempt to quell his rising panic at the memories of another such gagging that the muzzle brought to the surface. He felt his heart rate begin to escalate rapidly and he took several calming breaths as best he could through his nose.

"I am so sorry, brother," Thor whispered softly, his hand linger a moment too long on Loki's shoulder.

Loki glared at him, imbuing his glower with as much anger and hatred as he could possible manage under the circumstances.

It would take more than that.

I'm sorry would never be enough for either of them.

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