Was it worse, Loki wonders, for the dead to collapse into dust, rather than to be shot over and over and burned to ash while their families screamed around them? If half the universe was going to die anyway, at least what occurred was quick, for most, and less painful than it might have been. He almost, almost opens his mouth to tell Thor that, but stops himself in time. That would only make things worse.

Part of him does want to say now, do you see? do you understand why I was so afraid, now? why I wanted so badly to hide? but there is no point. It would not help Loki and it would hurt Thor. Even Loki's anti-conscience is withdrawn and hesitant, pointing out only that a few words would break his brother irreparably, but choosing not to speculate on what those words might be.

He quiets sooner than Thor, because it's clear he needs to be the comforter here and now, no matter how ill suited he is to the role. And so he reaches up and pets his brother's hair, holds him close and keeps his own breathing as steady as he can.

"When...? After I died?" He asks, giving Thor a long, troubled look and then shrugging. "I landed here. And I wandered for a while. A few days, collecting myself. Listening, reading, not speaking."

"And then you showed up, and I had a plan once again."