Tension.

It was thick in the room, almost tangible, and it was accompanied by an array of negative vibes that seemed to emanate from Loki's body with natural ease. Distrust, anger, indignation, defensiveness, and even a small amount of wariness. Just as naturally as a cat had whiskers and the sky had clouds, Loki had this dark and threatening aura around him.

"Did you sleep well?" Bruce knew there was no need for small talk, but he wanted to get Loki into a mildly more open mindset before bombarding him with psychologically distressing questions. They had a lot to talk about, after all, and he knew Loki didn't intend to make it easy.

"Well enough." Loki's reply came out short and clipped, stress travelling through his muscles, showing only briefly in his shoulders and fists before he commanded his body to assume its usual stance.

"Things have changed pretty drastically for you," Bruce continued, undeterred by Loki's attitude. "Midgard and Asgard are two very different places, not that I need to tell you that, and you've been thrown into a pretty sticky situation. How are you holding up?"

Like a track on repeat, Loki replied, showing more interest in examining the room itself than actually interacting with its occupant. "Well enough."

"Good to hear it." Bruce gestured to the chair across from him. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Emerald hues flickered to the chair and then to Bruce's face. "I prefer to stand."

"We're going to be here for an hour." Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "Just thought you might want to rest your feet."

Loki didn't move. He was no doubt recalling his last encounter with the Other Guy—the one where he wound up in a human-shaped crater—and was pushing every ounce of self-control he had into making sure he didn't cause the beast to emerge.

Or maybe that was Bruce's self-depreciating attitude again.

"Loki, I'm just here to talk."

There was a pause, Loki scrutinizing the doctor for several moments before finally making the necessary steps and seating himself in the cushioned chair. He sat with a confident, regal sort of air, though Bruce couldn't help but sense some anxiety behind the stiff back and squared shoulders.

"So." Bruce cracked a small smile. "Tell me about your childhood."

Loki's eyes widened slightly, his expression one of utter disbelief, and his body tilted away from his makeshift therapist in a show of repulsion. "I beg your pardon?" He took a quick glance at the door. "I am not going to spend an hour of my day, every day, for the next several years talking about my childhood. What utter nonsense. What on Midgard would you even learn from such information?"

Bruce's grin only expanded, though he kept himself from laughing for the sake of progress. "Just a small joke to break the ice. It's sort of a stereotypical line. If you ever see a comic strip of…" He trailed off. Loki wouldn't know what a comic strip was. "It's like when you're watching a comedy and…" Loki wouldn't know what that was either. "…you know what, never mind. It was a stupid joke."

"Indeed." Loki crossed his arms over his chest, resuming his previous position of aloofness.

Shaking his head, Bruce steered them back to the main topic. "You made a good point though. Let's not talk about the past. Let's talk about current, relevant things." He paused. "You're not going anywhere for a while, and there isn't much to do in your room. What sort of thing would keep you occupied during the day?"

Loki regarded the question with narrowed eyes, his gaze wandering over Bruce's form before once more darting around the room. Of all the negative emotions he had exuded when he first arrived, suspicion was the one that was in an overwhelming amount of control now.

"Well," Loki started after a few beats of silence. "I wouldn't know, now would I? As you just said, Asgard and Midgard are very different."

Smart. He's treating this like an interrogation, trying to use my questions to get me to talk. It's clever, and certainly wise given his situation, but I need to move him away from that kind of thinking.

"True." Bruce conceded to the younger—or perhaps older, depending on the scale—man's argument. "But there are similarities, I'm sure. You could list off a few things you enjoy, and then I can present something that would follow the same basic principles."

Loki gave him a long, hard stare, but the doctor turned psychiatrist didn't falter. He stared back with half the hardness and twice the determination. It didn't seem to do much to change Loki's resistance, but it did prompt a reply, unhelpful though it was.

"Isn't this supposed to be an interrogation of some sort?"

Bruce shook his head. "No. Like we discussed yesterday, you're receiving therapy sessions. Right now, we're just getting to know each other."

Loki narrowed his eyes a bit more, but his body language betrayed nervousness. "You are wasting your time. You would sooner beat answers out of me than coax them—I am not so easily persuaded."

Nodding his head, almost in a gesture of surrender, Bruce picked up a thin stack of papers from the table in front of him. "In that case, how about we go over a list of things that might be somewhat similar to the things you had on Asgard? If something sounds familiar to you, we'll look into it."

Bruce watched Loki's face, both men staring at each other unwaveringly, waiting to see who would show their hand first. Bruce kept his lips in a straight line, and Loki's face was one of total mistrust and nothing else.

Finally, after at least two minutes of staring, Loki spoke.

"It changes nothing."

"We'll see."

Loki glared.

Bruce smiled.

Pale, green eyes bored relentlessly into the thin stack of papers pinched between the Bruce's fingertips. It seemed the doctor was serious about the list, and with every moment that passed, Loki couldn't help feeling a sense of… well, it was difficult to pinpoint with a name, but it was something akin to disappointment and apathy. He had been expecting torture, interrogation, questioning, anger, hatred, harsh words, something.

Something that wasn't this.

"It's a pretty vague list, but if we find one or two things that you like, we can look for activities that fall on similar lines. For example, books." Bruce paused. "Do they have those on Asgard?"

Loki's jaw twitched, insulted by the blatant mockery within the question. "Doctor, are you aware of a realm where they do not have books?"

"Up until a few years ago, I didn't know a realm other than mine was in existence. I think it's safe to say I don't know which cultures and peoples have things I'm familiar with and which do not." Bruce raised an eyebrow, a small grin teasing at the corner of his mouth. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Silence was the answer Loki offered, his arms coming up to fold over his chest. He didn't believe the beast's words for a second. Bruce had access to Thor, who knew far more than the basic concepts of Asgardian culture. Also, he had no reason to trust Loki's words to be true, so there was also no reason why he shouldn't have covered the basics with Thor beforehand.

"Yes, we have books."

"Do you like them?"

Tension slipped in between Loki's shoulders, drawing the muscles into a knot that began to ache in a matter of seconds. Curse this mortal form. Even without the presence of injury, it manages to find itself weakening. Could this be the kind of stress that causes those… headpains?

Loki blinked once, slowly, and leveled his gaze at Bruce. "I don't have an opinion on them."

Bruce offered a small frown, confusion creasing his brow and drawing his glasses toward the end of his nose. "That's a little hard to believe. Most people can't have one solid opinion on books as a whole because there are so many kinds, let alone not have an opinion on books at all."

"Asgardians do not look to books unless they contain financial documents or important historical facts." Loki waited until the doctor glanced down at his sheet to cast his gaze around the room, seeking a window for the twentieth time and finding none. "It is unusual for someone, especially a man, to read for leisure."

Despite Loki's hope that such information would be enough to deter, Bruce pressed on, his head shaking back and forth as he began to speak once more.

"I didn't ask what Asgard thought of books, I asked what you thought of books." Bruce set down the papers and began to tick off a long list on his fingers. "There are mysteries, action and adventure, horror, suspense, biographies, autobiographies, fiction, historical, historical fiction, science fiction, fantasy—"

"It matters not."

Dr. Banner spent a long moment staring at him, and Loki couldn't help the twinge of fear he felt, searching Bruce's eyes for any sign of green. Despite himself, despite the numerous times he tried to forget his humiliating defeat in that very tower, he could still feel his body slamming one way and then the next into the rock.

And that was when the healing properties and fortifications of a god were still within me. Were the beast to treat this form with the same vigor, I would be dead in seconds with no chance of revival.

He swallowed discreetly, his foot sliding backward just an inch or so. "It matters not," he repeated. "Regardless, as you already mentioned, some books have already been stored in my room. Should I take a sudden interest in reading, I can explore those before we make an attempt at discussing…" he paused, eyes drifting upward briefly, "…shanra."

"Genre." Bruce gave him a smile, adjusting his glasses. "Genre just describes a subset of a larger group, usually an art form. Dance, music, books, crafts, movies, shows, theatre, and various other groups are divided up by genres, which give a little detail about what you can expect from that particular piece of art."

Loki went over a mental checklist and adjusted his posture accordingly, more concerned with keeping up appearances than what Bruce had to say. "I see." With that, he allowed his eyes to wander to his hands, nails scraping absentmindedly at the dry, somewhat dirty skin of his palms.

"You really should take a shower," Bruce advised, gesturing to the way Loki was scratching.

Loki gave him a cold stare in return. "I did."

For a brief moment, shock registered on Bruce features, but he quickly traded it in for an expression of bewildered curiosity. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it doesn't look like you did."

Loki wasn't sure how to take that the right way. "I did." He paused, recalling the state he had woken up in the day before. "I felt clean whenever I woke up yesterday, and then I showered in the evening. Still, I have spent two years in prison—there is only so much water can do."

"Soap isn't working?"

There was a moment of silence.

Loki blinked. "Pardon?"

Bruce blinked. "Soap?"

"I am unfamiliar with the workings of your soap."

Another window of time passed in absolute silence, Bruce features twisting with confusion. Loki simply had nothing more to say. He had no idea what Midgardians used to bathe themselves, but even on Asgard he had preferred to use magic for hygienic purposes rather than going through the task step by step.

"I… do they have soap on Asgard?"

Loki was not as offended the second time, seeing as their conversation was probably what lead Bruce to such a question. "Of course. I simply never used it. I used magic."

Bruce nodded slowly. "Magic... which you can't use anymore. So, you didn't think to improvise with soap."

Loki shot him dark look but said nothing, unwilling to admit that yes, he had thought of it, but he couldn't identify which bottles held which soaps and what they were to be used for. Even with the assistance of labels, it seemed the soaps on Midgard each had different uses and were meant for separate areas of cleansing—Loki was not about to accidentally put toe soap on his face or use the multiple hair products in the incorrect order.

"You disagree?"

Loki still said nothing.

"If you don't talk to me, I can't help you."

Still nothing.

"If I can't help you, you're going to need a lot more showers."

Silence. Cold, angry, indignant silence.

Bruce sighed, one hand running through his hair and stopping to adjust his glasses on the way back down. "Alright. If you want to take fifty showers, you are more than welcome to." Then he cracked a smile. "But don't come complaining to me when Tony gives you an earful about the water bill."

For a moment, Loki allowed his brow to crease, confusion painting the forefront of his mind as he pondered what a water bill could possibly be. Soon, however, he abandoned the train of thought in order to keep the session moving.

"You had a list, I believe?"

Bruce took the hint and glanced at the papers again. "Do you have any musical interests?"

"No." Growing up, he had studied the melodies and musical patterns that had useful effects when combined with magic, but other than that, he had never found music all that captivating.

"What about crafting?"

Loki raised an eyebrow. "You would have to elaborate."

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "There are lots of different crafting hobbies. Leatherworking, woodworking, whittling, metalworking, model building, paper crafting, and even letter writing or calligraphy could all technically count as kinds of crafting."

Your questions make no sense. Loki was, of course, interested in crafting things. Magic itself was a kind of craft, though many on Asgard would beg to differ. But I am a war criminal, not a guest.

"They are all familiar terms." Well, that was a lie. "However, none of them are of any interest to me." So was that.

Bruce nodded his head, writing down a few notes beside the general topic and preparing to continue down the list. Loki inwardly sighed. It might not have been torture, but he almost would have preferred that to this. At least if he were strung up by his thumbs, he would feel he was prepared for whatever came next. The abnormal behavior, the lack of hostility, the level-headed composure—it had to be fake, which meant there was a lie to be uncovered. It was exhausting, forcing him to keep his mind and body focused at all times.

Unless that's the plan. Mentally drain me with the intent of actually behaving in a civil manner, only to turn the tables after I've gotten too weary to focus. Or perhaps they assume I'll think this way, and they'll be starting the torture in less than a week.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, forcing the stiffness out of his shoulders only to tense up once again when he realized Bruce had not continued to the next item.

"What?" Loki snapped.

"You seem unsettled." Bruce sounded genuinely concerned. "Is something the matter?"

Loki rubbed his hands and pressed his thumb into the opposite palm. "Should I be comfortable?" he questioned, preferring to leave the task of answering to his adversaries.

"I don't know about comfortable. Like I said, you've been through a lot of changes within the past couple days, so you're bound to be stressed out." Bruce paused, leaning on the arm of his chair and resting his chin in his hand. "I'm sure you're having a hard time believing we wouldn't send you to death row."

Loki smirked. "You could say that." He inhaled slowly, pretending to take a moment to consider his word choice. "I didn't make many friends last time I was here, least of all with you and your allies. To grant me such a lenient sentence would be incredibly irrational."

Bruce's brow creased slightly. "Why?"

The question caught Loki off-guard.

"What do you mean 'why?'" He scowled. "Sparing me from Asgardian punishment won't do anything to help your realm or deter me from attacking it in the future. Who in their right mind gives aid to their enemies and expects no downfall? It's foolish."

Bruce only offered a soft smile. "Some of the most famous heroes of Midgard became famous for forgiving and helping their enemies. It's not unheard of, and regardless of whether or not it will be beneficial to us, it won't hurt us, either. You can't leave this tower, and even if you did, you don't have the power to do any more damage than an average human."

It stung, the blatant reminder of his human weakness spoken so casually from the lips of a man he had once considered beneath him. Loki had called him a mindless beast, but the words only came back to haunt him as the tables were turned and he found himself several levels lower than those he had scorned just a handful of years ago.

"Loki?" Bruce spoke once the silence became thick, the lack of a reaction leaving him to assume something needed to be addressed.

"I understand your reasoning." The words were ground out between clenched teeth, Loki's jaw setting and refusing to move as rage enveloped him from the inside out.

Disgusting, pitiful creatures—all of them! Thor, you bumbling oaf, what did you hope to gain by bringing me here? By handing me over to your precious allies? You could have sent me to the axe with my dignity, at the very least, but instead I've been taken even lower than the scum that inhabits this mud rock! Is this your idea of redemption, Brother? Laughable!

Bruce was speaking, and somewhere in the back of Loki's mind, he knew he should have been paying attention, but he couldn't. He couldn't get past the torrential thoughts blurred together by a current of red.

"Loki."

He tried to hide the startled jump that racked his body, eyes narrowing as he met the kind but unwavering auburn gaze of the doctor.

"Look, I know you're not happy about this arrangement. Everybody here knows that, but that doesn't change the fact that this is your new sentence. Just think about this for me." Bruce held up his hands and paused, collecting his thoughts for a moment before starting again. "If this situation is out of your hands, what good will it do to stress yourself out about potential ulterior motives? Let's say you find out we are showing you this mercy for our own gain. What are you going to do about it? It won't lessen the security, it won't bring your magic back, it won't give you your immortality, and it won't take the locks off of your doors."

Loki opened his mouth, prepared to argue the man into next week, but Bruce held up his hands again.

"Don't answer. Just think about it, and give me your response tomorrow." Bruce smiled, sympathy tightening his lips. "You've only got fifteen more minutes. Why don't we just finish the list, and you can sleep on it, alright?"

Loki said nothing. He knew if he did, he would wind up digging himself into a very deep hole, and he couldn't afford to do that. Not now. Not when he still knew so little about his situation. So he kept quiet, nodding from time to time so Bruce wouldn't stop to ask whether or not he was listening.

What I am going to do about it is I am going to destroy the lot of you from the inside. I will take your intentions and turn them into acid that melts you down to nothing from your very core. If you think I am going to allow my life to be in the hands of another just because I allegedly can't change anything about it, you are dead wrong, my dear monster.

It felt like an eternity had passed before the door finally unlocked, and Loki quickly got to his feet, trying and failing to hide his eagerness. He turned toward the door and took two steps before coming to an immediate halt, his entire body turning to stone.

"Not so fast, Reindeer Games."