I managed to control myself for two weeks after they returned. Two weeks, before I couldn't get out of bed again. That's the thing about depression: you can't beat it once and think it is over, it just comes back.
I heard a soft knock on the door. I didn't answer. The door opened, someone walked in.
'You were missed at breakfast.' It was Thor.
'I am not hungry.' I muttered. Some more steps. The bed sagged slightly.
'What happened? You were doing so well.' His voice was filled with sincere caring and concern.
'I don't know, it just- I wake up and I'm like this, a mess. I can't help it '
'Should I call my brother? He seems to have a good impact on you.'
'He has done enough for me already.' I groaned.
Thor sighed. 'Don't shut him out like this. You both need each other; I can see it. Once I was the one he relied on, but I shut him out, and I lost him. Don't make the same mistake.'
'I'm sorry.'
'No, I am, but I cannot undo the past. You know that too. But don't forget we are a team, we want to help you. Anything. Just ask.' He rose again.
'Wait!' Suddenly the idea of him leaving me freaked me out. 'Thor, I'm sorry. You are right. Please,' a tear rolled down my cheek, 'I don't want to shut you, him or anyone out. I'm sorry, that's just what I do.' Desperation creeped into my voice.
A hand rested on my arm. 'It's okay. We will bring you back to the light.'
He embraced me. I cried. Others came, I apologised. They said it was okay, that they would help. And that was true.
It wasn't easy; improvement came slowly, and sometimes disappeared without reason.
Thor told me his best stories from when he was a kid, and of his battles. Clint tried to improve my hearing by putting me in the centre of the training room and him walking silently to a spot, then making a sound, letting me throw something at him. If I did well, I had the satisfaction of his pained exclamation.
Natasha taught me slowly how to play there piano, mostly her favourite songs.
Steve gave me history lessons, mostly trying to find the interesting and outstanding facts.
Bruce tried to teach me about self-control and how he lived with himself.
Tony collaborated with me in finding a way to create more efficient ways of communication and writing.
Loki read me my books, and was there to listen. I told him every dark thought, because he was there to tell me it was going to be all right.
Many times he just lay beside me on the bed, and I crawled against him, listening to his heartbeat.
'What are you thinking?' I asked him one night.
He sighed. 'That after everything I have done, I do not deserve to lay here with someone like you.'
'Do you think about it a lot?' I asked hesitantly.
'Every day.'
'You're hurt,' I whispered. 'That's both good and bad.'
'How so?' Some of his amusement returned to his voice.
'It is bad because I don't want you to be hurt. But it is good because it shows your goodness.'
'I like the way you think,' he mused softly, gripping my hand and weaving his fingers through mine.