Loki voluntarily went to a holding cell as the Avengers informed SHEILD of the situation. If Loki was telling the truth, there was going to be a bumpy ride, and they were going to need Loki's aid. If he was lying, Barton called dibs on an incendiary arrow. And Barton was really hoping Loki was lying.

Sherlock and Stark were working on getting back into action with the help of Watson. Watson's medical knowledge on rehabilitation was extraordinary for the late 1890s, but with some finesse from Banner, Watson's skill tripled.

As the two were restricted to minimal activity, they schemed and hatched strategies to beat Thanos' crazy plot. Both worked in fervor, being driven by fear and anger. Thanos had nearly stripped them of their humanity, driving them insane without so much as uttering phrases.

From what they knew, his main goal was to please the embodiment of death, living outside the realm they knew. So far those attempts were met with cold hard failures, driving the purple giant further into madness. They had to use his defining feature against him. Sherlock mused that the lore of Death would there in lie the key, while Stark believed that a new defense mechanism would protect and destroy Thanos. He kept calling it the ultimate robot, naming it Ultron.

As the two conspired in their beds, Loki waited in his cell, muzzle still in place. Fury's reasoning was that he rather have him weakened and in their control than to have him at full power and betray SHEILD.

Within the cell, Loki was cruelly reminded that while the Tessaract gives power, it also takes it away.

Now that the cube was quarantined within the Helicarrier, he felt his power and his sanity drain away. Like a chilling mist set upon him, he was falling back into the void, falling for eternity. A cold sweat slicked his brow and his hands shook fiercely. Furthering his crisis with Watson's…procurement, he drained his magic until he was scrounging up dredges.

But for appearances sake, he must carry on with the show. And he was so good at performing for an audience.

With a soft swish of the automatic door, Thor stood outside his stall, arms crossed and contemplatively staring at him.

"Thinking is unlike you, brother. You were always more the swing and ask questions later personality." Thin lips pulled into an attempt at a smile, hidden by the mask, leaving an impression of a snake hissing in the grass. He sat up from his cot, not attempting to stand, knowing he'd be face down the moment he tried.

"Quit with the falsehoods, Loki." Thor barely suppressed his anger, though Loki could read him like an open book. What he saw made him frown; he was hurt. And Loki had done the hurting.

"That wasn't me, you know." Loki said quietly at first, "Thanos is vile and cruel, even more so than myself. He has the power of trillions on his side, and I have none. I never wanted to kill you; I only ever wanted to be your equal. Those sentiments have not changed." He drew his cape around him and turned away.

Who knew being so open could be so draining? He squared his shoulders and turned towards the Plexiglas. "Thanos is your enemy, not me. We have had our differences in the past, but surely…"

"Don't take me for a fool. I trusted you once and you nearly destroyed what we both cherished for the sake of petty jealousy." Thor's eyes were a misty grey, anger swirling like a torrent ready to expel. Loki found himself both ashamed and enraged.

"You would have ruined the kingdom with your own brand of pettiness, 'brother.' You would have waged war over an ill-timed sneeze if someone gave you the chance. If anything, I saved Asgard…from you."

His magic fluctuated underneath his skin, the surge of emotion causing an increase in magic, giving him a brief respite from his growing weakness. Though it wavered as quickly as it came, leaving him breathless and trembling. The mask suffocated him and the telekinesis did nothing to alleviate an oncoming headache.

"Go. Leave me." Loki faced the wall again, shoulders sagging down. He was sleeping in mere seconds of lying on the cot.

Thor watched on as Loki slept, watching the pale, sweaty face grimace behind its muzzle. He wanted to say he was satisfied with Loki's punishment, but he wasn't. It did not settle well to see his little brother bound in chains, ill with whatever Loki did not wish to disclose.

"Mr. Odinson. Master Stark requires your presence in the living room." JARVIS's voice echoed above, not too loud as to wake the other god.

"Thank you JARVIS." He swiftly left, oddly twitching as the door swished shut. "And JARVIS…please, look after my brother." His voice did not boom in its usual tones, he felt old and broken.

"Of course, Mr. Odinson." The electronic voice reciprocated sympathetically.

The walk to the living room was a brief moment of quiet, his mind wandering back to Loki's quick escape.

Loki was bound and muzzled by the SHEILD agents and, at the time, Thor looked on pleased. Loki's icy blue gaze was not unnoticed; smudges of dark purple marked his eyes. He hissed profanities from behind the mask that would make Fandrall blush.

"It is time to go, Loki." He thrust the Tessaract's containment unit into Loki's hands. The disdain that flashed across his face felt truly satisfying.

They were halfway home when Loki escaped. Thor was taken aback when he saw Loki's eyes shift from blue to red to green, like a pinwheel of colour, he was mesmerized, and then it was too late. Loki, insanely, put his hand into the edge of the worm whole, hand being torn to shreds as the wall ripped apart. A short man looked on through the tear and Loki jolted with all his might breaking free with the Tessaract in hand.

The portal shut before Thor could make a swing of his hammer to stop Loki. He was gone.

Imagine his surprise when Loki showed up yesterday morning with the man on the other side of the portal, giving them back the Tessaract.

The facts weren't adding up, he didn't understand the game and the tricks. Was he really that naïve of a soon-to-be king?

"Shakespeare, what's hanging?" Breaking him out of his reverie was Clint hanging upside down from the ventilation shaft, staring curiously at the god before him.

"It's….it pertains to my brother. He spoke of Thanos controlling his mind. While I agree that the Mad Titan is strong, I do not think he has any magic. I am finding it hard...to find the truth." Golden brows knit together in confusion and exhaustion.

Clint rolled his eyes. "There is no such thing as magic, maybe a parlor trick…more than likely, science. Loki got in my head using the staff—god, I hate saying this, but—what if someone got into his doing the same thing?"

Thor raised an eyebrow and the shrugging archer, surprised that such defense would arise given their history. "That is what I keep hoping for, Son of Barton." Clint dropped to his feet and the two finished their trek to the living room.

A skinny Stark and Holmes were frantically pacing around the coffee table, explaining notes and images on the holoscreen, while Watson and Banner sat on the couch in equal distress. Natasha and Rogers sat more towards the wet bar looking completely disinterested.

"Thor, Clint, you're here!" Tony stopped his ramblings, much to the joy of the two on the couch, and tried hopping over the back of another sofa to greet them.

"Son of Stark, I don't think-" Thor's warning came too late as Tony face planted onto the floor; Clint was already on his side laughing like a hyena. Thor picked him up like a small kitten and placed him on the couch he had tripped over.

"Now, tell me, why have we assembled?" Watson gave a sorrowful sigh that send chills down the newcomers' spines.

"I'm so glad you asked. Holmes? Put up the image will you?" Sherlock tapped with fluid ease on the screen and the moon of Titan appeared on the projector.

"As I have explained numerously, this bad boy is Titan, home of the meanest asshole this galaxy has ever seen." Stark spoke, now seated and less deranged than before.

Sherlock piped up, "From our time on the planet, Thanos spoke greatly of his mistress. Death, as he referred to her, lived in a pocket in space-time, to get to her required a great magician who could open up or find passageways." Thor's mouth dropped open. Loki was telling the truth, he was being used, spellbound to a purple giant.

"Then he was telling the truth? My brother was used! We must free him at once!" Thor turned to leave only to be stopped by JARVIS.

"Mr. Odinson, it appears your brother has taken ill, it would be best if you brought along Mr. Banner or Doctor Watson." Both the doctors stepped out the door before Thor could ask.

Out of curiosity and worry, Rogers and the two geniuses tagged along, Clint and Natasha stayed back in the living room, one noticing Tony's project Ultron on the side bar. A look of dread passed between them.

Once in the containment area, they heard screaming—terrible, angry screaming. Loki thrashed on the floor for a minute, then up to the ceiling, then back down again. Watson paled, unaccustomed to the demonic illness.

To Tony, it looked like drug withdrawal—the shakes, the chills, the sweating—but never to this extent. He quickly typed in the security override and allowed Banner and Watson inside.

Loki was flailing, swinging at anything that got close, though Bruce managed to get the drop on him, being only grazed on the chin. Watson tackled Loki's legs, pinning him for the moment to the floor, there was a brief moment where he was in the air as Loki's legs bucked upward.

"Rogers, I'm going to need Rompun, 1 mL, from my office. Thor, I'm going to need you to hold him down. He's too strong for us. And I can't have him swinging at me!" Bruce's eyes were already a toxic green. Hulk was fighting to protect his host, even though his host was fighting to protect his patient.

"Aye" Meaty hands came down on slender wrists, completely immobilizing the magician. Thor didn't remember his brother to be this weak.

His eyes watered as his watched his brother delirious, snarl at being touched, though most disturbing was his eyes, the normal emerald green were gone. In its stead were these swirling blue pools, taking over the sclera and pupil.

As if realizing his immobility, he began calling out. "T-Thanos!" the words came out raspy and archaic. Holmes recoiled slightly from outside the cell. Was it a vision?

"Loki, pray tell, what do you see?" Holmes rushed in, placing a hand on the Jotun's icy forehead.

"The void…Death…" he mumbled other words incoherently, unable to form the words. No one was really sure what to make of his words, they sighed in relief as Steve came back in with the syringe. Watson jabbed the needle into the Vastus Lateralis muscle, and pushed the plunger.

The Rompun took effect quickly, as pale lids dropped half-mast over those swirling blue depths. A serene smile fell across his face.

"She's beautiful." A cold sensation fell upon them as he completely succumbed to the sedative.