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Something nudged Thor's shoulder. He blinked up blearily, and light speared through his head. That was a mistake. He groaned and hid his face in his arm again.
“Thor.” a scathing voice cut through his misery, the one voice he wanted to hear in the world.
“Loki?” he asked, hope filling him.
“Get up. You're disgusting.”
Thor stumbled to his feet, pushing himself up against the wall. “Loki!” he fell towards his brother, but he disappeared into green and Thor went tumbling to the concrete before he could touch him. “Brother?”
“You think I would touch you, filthy as you are? Get up and wash yourself.”
“I—brother, I'm sorry, but I cannot—”
Loki led him to a public fountain and motioned towards it. Thor eyed it dubiously. Well, it couldn't be too much worse than the public baths in Asgard. He stepped toward it but misjudged the gap and fell over the lip and in with a splash.
“You're absolutely revolting. What would you do without someone to make you take care of your hygiene, hmm?”
“Truthfully, brother, I could do nothing with you gone.”
“Pfft. Pathetic. Like the way you stopped me from falling.”
“Brother…”
“Do you know how long I fell? It was a lot longer than thirty minutes, I assure you.”
Thor looked at him, stricken. He hadn't even thought of the trauma that might have been brought back by the actions of the Strange Doctor. “Brother, I'm sorry—”
Loki scoffed. “Sorry? You think I'll believe your sorry? You left me to be torchured by Thanos. You abandoned me to prison, and didn't even ask where I'd been. You drove me suicide, Brother.” he spat. “Since when does sorry mean anything to you?”
“But it does,” Thor pleaded, broken, on his knees, “it does mean something to me. It means everything to me, brother. You mean everything to me.”
Loki looked on him, gaze unreadable as it so often was. “I meant nothing to you.” He said blankly/bleakly.
No. He can't honestly think that. Please, no. “Loki, Brother, you mean everything to me—I meant when I said you meant the world to me, and more. Please , brother, you can't think this of me. Think anything else you want of me, but please , know I love you. With all of my being.”
“You hated me.” Loki's mouth was a line, and all his face showed was resignation. He believed what he said. “You killed me, Thor.”
Thor felt as though he were underwater. His mind was empty but for a buzzing overtaking his being.
He had killed his brother. His little brother, Loki, he'd killed him. Thrice.
The first time, at the bridge, he hadn't watched for the deterioration of his self-confidence, hadn't protected his brother or even listened to him. He'd been so caught up in the new, in young-adulthood that he hadn't thought to watch, to listen for his brother's thoughts. He'd been so wrapped up in himself, his life, that he'd forgotten the one left behind; the one he valued so much higher than his own.
The time on Svartalfheim, he'd dragged Loki out there, he'd threatened to kill him himself if he didn't cooperate. He never expected Loki to believe him, but had he? He never would have forgiven him if he'd left him while he went to avenge their mother … but had he believed him?
And now … Loki had died to protect him from Thanos. Thor had been stupid and reckless, and Loki had died to protect him.
Again.
“But you're here now, that's all that matters.” He muttered to himself. “He's here now, and he won't leave me again.”
Thor looked up again, and Loki was gone. He searched, frantically trying to get a glimpse of green or gold, anything that would tell him where he'd gone. “Thor,” He heard. “Whe—” and it trailed off into worthless babbling. It was Loki's voice, but he couldn't hear the words.
“Loki?” Thor searched the skyline. “Brother, where are you?” But only the sound of wind met his ears, and he stood shivering in a fountain.
Alone.