Only Speak When It Improves the Silence

Chapter II

Tony was at a total loss; he had a wanted war criminal sitting on his couch, sipping water slowly as his long pale fingers trembled, almost as if it was an effort to hold the glass in his hands. Said man was also dripping water all over his floor and couch. At least it wasn't blood; water was much easier to clean up. Tony knew he should have contacted Fury, or even Steve for that matter, but the look in Loki's eyes—that helpless, pleading look—made him rethink it. He knew he would eventually pay the price for it, but he would handle it like he did with everything that blew out of proportion.

Taking a deep breath, tony made his way back to the living room, carrying a bowl of warm water and a piece of cloth, wishing he could just down some more scotch and pretend none of this was happening. He had to clean Loki's wounds and get him out of those torn, wet drags; he also had to get the chains off of Loki's wrist. He wasn't sure how long Loki had had them on, or if the God had struggled with it. He didn't know if Loki had cuts and infections, so he had to be prepared for anything.

As soon as the genius stepped into the room, dull green eyes met chocolate brown ones in a panic. Tony didn't know what had Loki so scared; maybe it was the fact that he almost drowned, or maybe there was something Tony simply didn't know yet—what had happened to him?

"Hey, Reindeer Games. I'm gonna clean your mouth okay?" Tony asked slowly as he sat down on the coffee table, setting the bowl on the black marble surface next to him. Loki said nothing; instead he set the cup down next to the bowl and closed his eyes as Tony dipped the cloth in the water. Gently, Tony began to dab Loki's lips, whipping the blood away. It took nearly ten minutes to finish cleaning Loki's mouth, and disinfecting it.

The whole time Loki didn't make a noise, or any sign of pain or discomfort, which Tony had to admit was amazing. If it were him, he'd be bitching and complaining about the slightest thing, but not Loki. Tony set the cloth in the pink water and looked at Loki, frowning for a moment.

"Alright, that's over and done with… We should get you out of those clothes and into dry ones… plus the chains gotta go. I mean, I dig the whole tied up thing, but kin—"

The look Loki gave him was enough to shut him up.

"Right. Um. Let's go to my lab. I'll have JARVIS scan you just in case you have any more injuries I can't see."

Tony was expecting a fight—or anything really, just not Loki willingly standing up and following him down stairs to his lab. He was not expecting Loki to willingly strip out of all of his clothes and stand still as JARVIS scanned him either. The genius was sitting on his chair, in front of the now naked God, and a tablet in his hands as he watched the holographic pictures of Loki's body show up on the screen. Tony did his best to keep his eyes on the blue glow of his tablet, but he couldn't help it; every now and then his eyes would move to Loki's long lean body. He was try and memorize each and every dip of muscle and small scar on Loki's pale body; eyes trailing down the God's neck and chest and naval until he got to the man's length. His eyes remained there for a bit more than they should have, and it wasn't until a black cloth that resembled a dirty tank top that belonged to Tony covered his view did Tony break his gaze. Tony looked up, brown eyes meeting enraged emerald greens.

"Sir, the scan is finished."

Tony looked up at the ceiling, then down at the tablet, tapping at sections of Loki's body and rotating the image slowly. Without needing to be told he could already tell that treating Loki for anything would be impossible. He might look human, and he might have human anatomy, but he wasn't human. He was a God—or whatever—and there was no way of knowing how a drug would affect him, if it affected him at all. The scan had come out relatively normal—as normal as a scan of a God could go—except for some pink and dark red coloring in Loki's throat.

Tony double tapped on the area, enlarging it. "JARVIS—"

"It appears that Mr. Laufeyson's vocal cords have been removed."

Tony froze, his eyes widening for a moment at the robotic British accent. He stared at the blue glow of the tablet, and then looked up at Loki, noticing how still he had gone. He was like a statue; unmoving and silent, unblinking. Tony set the tablet down, quickly standing and walking over to the still God, frowning a bit, unsure of what to really say.

"Lokes?"

Loki's green eyes snapped to look at Tony; the fear and sheer terror in them made Tony's blood run cold. He swallowed hard, putting a hand on Loki's arm, only to have the other flinch and move away from his touch.

Damn it.

What the hell was he doing? Did he actually care about what the God was feeling? Maybe he just felt bad. He did find the other drowning and gagged with his lips sown badly shut and now his voice was missing. That sucked. Majorly.

Loki turned from Tony, gripping the dirty tank top tightly in his hands as he allowed the news to sink in. He had lost his voice—no, He didn't lose it. It had been taken from me. He had been stripped of the one thing he had for protection, and to be left in this mortal realm, stuck with the Man of Iron, whose pitied gaze boiled his blood with anger. How he wished to scream; to scream at the top of his lungs and curse the Allfather for everything. There was nothing he could do now. He felt weak and powerless. He knew he no longer had possession of his magic—the Allfather had stripped him of that as well. He was but a mortal without a voice.

How pathetic was he?

And to be in the hands of an enemy who has shown him nothing but how pitiful he really was. Loki knew he was feeling sorry for himself, but what else could he do? He couldn't speak, nor could he tell Stark what had happened. He couldn't use magic, or work anything on Midgar—everything was just so strange to him.

"…and then you can learn h-….Loki are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?"

Loki looked up, Tony's voice snapping him out of his thoughts. He frowned a bit to himself, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips a bit, touching the small wounds above his lips. Shaking his head, he pulled Tony's tank top over his head, not wanting to stand around naked anymore. It was large on him—and smelled awful—but it would suffice. The straps fell off his shoulder, and it looked as if he wore a badly made dress.

With a small frown, Loki shook his head slowly, making Tony sigh.

"Okay. Let me repeat myself. For now you can use my tablet to write down anything if you want to, you know, communicate with me instead of glaring at me from across the room. I mean it's sexy but you're starting to burn a hole in my head, Lokes."

The glare he got made him smirk, but when Loki nodded, those green eyes shifting to the device in Tony's hand with uncertainty, Tony knew he was going to have his hands full. He would have to teach a God how to use a tablet. A war criminal God that had thrown him out of a window, killed Coulson, and destroyed half of New York.

Yeah.

No big deal.

Gah. This is so short.

I'm so sorry it took so long to update this guys!

And that it's such a short chapter.

I'll try and update this again as soon as I can. I'm trying to get enough inspiration to update my other fanfictions as well before someone kills me o3o

Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed it, and don't' hesitate to point out any mistakes guys. I'm only human, I won't bite!