Thor felt cold all over. The gore itself didn't bother him so much - he was a warrior, whatever else he might be, and he had been close to open wounds and the stench of vomit before, though it was Loki's blood that seemed to overwhelm his sense of smell and turn his stomach.

He had never seen his brother's eyes so wide and full of pain. He breathed shallowly, and too quick. When Loki caught his wrist he was so startled that he dropped the cloth into the pitcher. Any other time, his brother would have teased him for his clumsiness. He met Loki's gaze for a moment more then nodded once. Mjolnir had not stopped calling to him since he had been separated from it. Perhaps Loki felt it too, in a different sort of way. He didn't question it or think on it too deeply - he knew it was important to take it away, and that was enough for him to do so.

He squeezed his brother's shoulder once before he started to separate from him, letting Sif take his place at Loki's side. He needn't ask her to take care of him. He knew that she would. "I will return."

He cast one last concerned glance in his brother's direction before the hammer bolted into his waiting hand. Its power rolled into him again, like thunder, and he remembered instantly why he thought they would find no equal together. Now he knew better.

Thor shut the door behind him as he went. Returning it to the vault was pointless, but his room wasn't far from Loki's.