Thank you to everyone whose been reading and enjoying so far. You guys are lovely, and I'm happy so many of you are faving, alerting, and reviewing. :)

I don't own the Avengers or any characters there.

Trigger warning: abuse, torture

This story does not involve smut in any way, shape or form. It's only a little slashy at that, so if you want that, you'll need to go elsewhere. This takes place after the Avengers movie.

This entire story is already completed and edited. We have 7 more updates left. :)

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Chapter 2

"It's too fucking empty here." Clint's voice echoed around the high walls of natural cavern they were walking through. Thor nodded his agreement, staying back a few paces, letting Clint lead with his sharp eyes.

"I may have caused some trouble elsewhere to draw them away. I suspect my brother is the only reason they were here."

"And now he's gone, poof. Bet that pissed someone off." Clint murmured more to himself than to Thor. He saw the room Thor had mentioned, and slid up to it and went inside. Empty, and he stopped for a moment, stared. Thor followed up, entering the room and looked over it. Clint had no idea how he could look so... remote.

There, on one wall, was where they had strung up Loki (bastard his mind supplied weakly), and beat him until you could see muscle and bone in his back. A table, a chair in one corner, and he tried not to think of why they'd needed those. Spots where the acid burning Loki's eyes and face had created divots in the floor, and the broken chains from when Thor had rescued him. The whole ground was sharp rock and glass (flinches from being touched but not the pain). He wondered when the last time Loki had eaten, or drank, remembering how scarily skin and bones he was. If the god even remembered what food was anymore.

"Barton." Thor's voice was gentle, and Clint looked up into those thunderous blue eyes and took a steady breath.

"Fuck," he said, and tried to use his eyes to not pick out all the details of how they had broken Loki's body. The room was large, squarish, and he paced around the outside. Always just a few prints-there were Thor's, in and out, but there were others. Loki's, barefoot and bleeding (dragged, a few times, based off blood and the fact nothing else would be dragged in this room), and others. Chitauri, they didn't look right. But a single set of boot prints, male, probably about Steve's height and weight, mostly around the edges of the room.

Six months. It wasn't just his body they were trying to break. That must be the afterthought.

He remembered how Loki didn't make a single noise even as Bruce shoved his ribs back in place and Stark dug glass and rock out of his back.

Thor wandered out of the room, following a set of the boot prints out. Clint let him, and just kept going through the room. Sharp eyes, even in this bad lighting. Light all from the hall. He wondered if Loki flinched at light now and what it probably heralded.

"Fuck," he muttered, again, shaking. He wasn't supposed to feel bad for the guy.

He saw a branch-sharpened and probably used a few times on Loki's back. He grabbed it because there was nothing else in this room for them besides those human looking footprints. Thor looked at him when he came out, noticed the branch, took it away.

"mistletoe," he said, thoughtfully. It was not, Clint decided, a good thoughtful.

"mistletoe, sure. Did you find anything."

"You found this. I have somewhere else to look, and you cannot come this time. I do not think I will need your sharp eyes."

"From a stick of mistletoe?"

Thor smiled, and suddenly he remembered that this was Loki's brother, even if not by blood, and it was kind of terrifying to see that cruel smile on Thor's face instead of on the thin and sharp one sleeping in Tony's lab right now.

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Tony does not really like his new lab mate, but he also doesn't hate him. He doesn't have Clint's baggage over Loki-sure the god threw him out a window, but he is alive now, right? Besides, the god is pretty helpless right now. They all know that. They take turns keeping an eye on him, but Tony is the only who really talks to him. The others seem to think that Loki's non-responses meant he wants to be left alone. Crazy talk.

Tony will talk to a wall if he thinks it will listen. Loki just happens to be awake.

"See this, genius. Honestly, you wouldn't have stood a chance of throwing me out that window if I'd been ready. I guess I do still owe you that drink, huh? Banner says that you probably shouldn't be drinking it, we've got more painkillers in you right now than-"

"Silence."

Tony does not shut up for anyone, and he'd be the first to tell you so, but he nearly swallowed his tongue, spinning around on his work stool to look at the Loki. The god is wrapped in one of the blankets Tony had liberated for him (and Pepper had not approved of the fact now they were blood covered (and approved less of Tony pointing out he could just buy more)), and his eyes-so far milky and unseeing-are trained on Tony with a familiar sharpness.

Tony opens his mouth, and Loki's brow furrows a little more, his glare intensifying. Tony doesn't say anything after all, just shuts his mouth with a click, and gets up. Loki can see him. Loki spoke (it's been days now, no one expected him to speak, and he hadn't).

The god starts, shrinking back further into his cocoon on the bed he has here, sliding towards the corner, watching Tony like a beaten cat. Tony catches a glimpse of fear underneath that... defiance, he realizes.

"You can see me." It is not very intelligent.

Loki doesn't respond.

"Jarvis, get Bruce."

"Immediately sir."

Loki doesn't jump half out of his skin when Jarvis speaks from nowhere, but he flinches, and watches Tony, waiting on... something. Tony isn't sure what, and he's almost positive he doesn't want to know and that it's nothing good.

Bruce comes sliding into the room, babbling something about how this is amazing, absolutely amazing. Loki's gaze flicks between the two of them, still waiting. Tony keeps quiet.

Bruce starts asking Loki questions-how clear is it, can you make out these things, what colour is this-and Loki suddenly speaks again.

"Leave me alone. I want to sleep."

Bruce flushes, and laughs, and pushes a hand through his hair and it all sticks up.

"Right, right, of course. This is good though!" He assures Loki, and Loki's staring at him like he's grown a second head. Staring at both of them like that.

Tony and him leave the lab, and Loki lays down (on his side, because despite his eyes his back is still an open wound and his right shin still shattered) and goes to sleep.

Tony glances back, frowning, but he keeps his thoughts-what did they do to you? why do they want you silent?-to himself.

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Thor is delighted that his brother's vision has returned, that he has apparently managed a handful of words. Clint leaves him to his delight, refusing to come along down to the labs.

"Brother! You can speak again?"

"Yes." The word is quiet, cutting, bitter. Thor does not mind Loki's caustic nature, or at least tries to pretend he doesn't.

"And see?"

"Yes."

"This is very good," he says, and the silence settles between them. Thor tries not to let it make him uncomfortable, flashing back on the earnest, honest smile his brother gave him before they left for Jotunheim, that agreement that of course he would follow Thor. He wants to ask Loki so much, but he knows Loki won't tell him.

"I want to see if I can walk," Loki says suddenly, and his cat green eyes are watching Thor, waiting, as if testing. Seeing if it's a dream or not. Thor beams, glad that he can at least be of some use, and tries to ignore the way his brother flinches at his touch, the tell-tale signs of wanting to hide back down in his covers even as Thor helps him up. Someone has supplied him with some flannel pajama pants. Thor knows not to comment on these things. He has ever since Loki caught a cold when they were young.

He guides his brother in a slow circuit around the room, talking, telling him about Jane and the Avengers. He avoids mentioning Asgard and father and mother, he avoids mentioning the Chitauri and how he found his brother (though he thinks Loki might want to know, or at least be curious, because his brother always wants to know, everything). It is small talk, and he knows it, but considering Loki's venom before he accepts it. He doesn't comment on the way Loki slows as they move, or how more of his weight presses into Thor, so that by the end Thor is nearly carrying him back into the bed.

Loki curls back up in the blankets, looking even more exhausted than he had before, and the silence is back again.

"You should try eating. They won't poison you."

Loki just glances up at him.

"I need to go. I am sorry I cannot stay longer brother."

"Family," the word less a question and more a hiss as Thor is headed out the door. Thor pauses, and looks back.

"Not that family," he says quietly. He looks at his brother, feeling a burning rage that he has to restrain. Those broken shoulders, the flinching, the way his voice never goes above a whisper and he's always watching, waiting on someone to hit him for speaking.

He turns to go again.

"Thank you," it's a whisper and a sigh, and Thor knows better than to acknowledge it.