A/N: I do apologize for the cliffie, and for not responding to review. My only excuse is college.

In other news, I have figured out how to end this story so that it ties in with Thor 2 (which you should see, if you have not yet).

Enjoy the chapter :)

Tony felt sick.

Not metaphorically - he actually felt nauseous, so much so that he was currently bent over a toilet, heaving shakily as Pepper rubbed his back. She was talking, too, but he could barely register what she said. Like he was the one who needed comforting right now.

He'd screwed everything up. Badly.

And because of his idiocy, Loki was in the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D., probably being beaten or tortured or- he didn't even want to imagine. Bruce had tried to tell Tony that he hadn't done anything wrong, that he never could have guessed that Steve would betray them like that, but it didn't make Tony feel any better. He should've known that telling the stupid soldier about Loki was a bad idea. He'd been convinced - he really had - that it would be better for Loki if there were people besides him and Pepper who could take care of him, and he'd thought for sure that Steve would be okay with everything, once Tony had explained. The guy had a heart, after all; or, at least, that was what Tony had thought.

He wasn't so sure anymore.

"Tony?" Pepper murmured softly.

The billionaire swallowed, wiping his hand across his mouth. "I think- I think I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Sort of. Where's the vodka?"

"Tony, you are not drinking. You need to go to S.H.I.E.L.D. and talk to Fury. I'm sure you can reason with him."

"Might as well try and argue with the eyepatch," Tony groaned, sitting back against the wall.

Pepper sighed. "You're not helping Loki like this."

"Really? You know what, the last thing I did to try and help Loki ended up- well, you know."

"You couldn't have known that Steve would rat you out like that."

"I should have." Tony pushed himself to his feet, staggering forward on trembling knees. "I was an idiot to trust him."

"He's your teammate. Of course you trusted him."

"He's a f-"

"Tony."

Fortunately, Bruce chose that moment to enter the bathroom with a slightly steaming cup of tea. "Here, I thought you might… It usually makes me feel better…"

"Thanks, buddy," Tony said, accepting the warm mug. "You're the best."

Bruce smiled nervously. "Any contact from S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Nothing yet," Pepper replied. "We assume they're interrogating Loki."

"You really think he's… not dangerous?"

Pepper nodded. "You didn't see him before, Dr. Banner. He looked far worse when I first saw him. And that was after Tony brought him in and cleaned him up."

"He was homeless?"

"Homeless and almost dying of heat exhaustion," Tony said, relishing the warmth of the tea. "There was no way he was taking over the world in his condition. He could barely stay awake."

"And what has he been doing since then?"

Tony laughed shortly. "I've been teaching him how to work computers. He's freakishly smart. I got him a little apartment a block away, and he's been coming in during the afternoons for lessons from yours truly. I already have him tinkering with Jarvis."

"You trust him that much?"

"Bruce, all you have to do is feed him and pat his back and he's practically tripping over himself with gratitude. Not that he'd let you see it. 'Starved for affection' doesn't even begin to describe it. Not to mention that he practically glows at positive feedback."

Bruce ran a hand through his hair. "Wow. Must have been a rough six years."

"Not just the past six years. I think it's been a longer time than that since somebody was nice to him. I made a comment the first day he was here about how he's not that bad to be around, and he was pretty much speechless with surprise. Seriously, he's so used to being abused and ignored that he'll pretty much worship you if you treat him decently."

"That's…" Bruce shook his head. "And Thor never said anything, did he?"

"Not a word. Awesome brother, isn't he?"

"Yeah, very. So, are we going to talk to Fury?"

Tony shrugged. "Might as well. He probably won't listen, but it's worth a shot. I almost don't want to know what he's doing to Loki."

"Steve wouldn't let them do anything too bad," Pepper said reassuringly.

"Steve went behind my back and had him arrested when he wasn't even doing anything," Tony growled. "I'm sure he'd have no problem with Loki getting a little banged up as long as S.H.I.E.L.D. found out what they needed to know."

"I'm sure he wouldn't," Pepper said, but she didn't sound like she believed it.

Loki was not crying.

He did not whimper when the Black Widow yanked his head back with an iron grip in his hair, nor when two agents pinned him against the wall so that the woman could assault his chest and stomach with cruelly precise blows that nearly made him vomit from the pain. He did not show any weakness.

(He was not weak.)

Loki almost wished they had not taken off the muzzle for the interrogation; it would have muffled the shameful noises drawn from him by the Widow's ruthlessly skillful hands.

"So, are you ready to talk?"

Loki knew there was nothing to be gained from resisting. But when the Director had walked into his cell, tall and domineering and gazing down at Loki as though he were nothing more than a cockroach, a spark of defiance kindled in his heart and he knew that he could not simply surrender without a fight. He was Loki. He would not break.

He was only making things worse for himself, of course. S.H.I.E.L.D. had absolute power over him; unless Asgard intervened, which Loki knew would not happen, the organization had simply to continue with the torture until eventually, inevitably, he was defeated. Perhaps it was this thought - the thought that he was utterly helpless and alone - that spurred Loki to defy the mortals this one last time. He would not die a coward.

"Drop him," Fury said evenly. The agents holding Loki against the wall abruptly released their grip, and Loki collapsed to the floor, panting. "So, feel like telling me what you're doing back down here?"

"Banished," Loki wheezed, almost rolling his eyes. Was it truly so hard for them to accept his answer? The Captain had believed him readily enough.

But, then again, Steve Rogers was a far kinder and more trusting individual than the ones currently occupying Loki's cell.

"Yeah, I don't think so. You see, Thor told us we wouldn't be seeing you again, so I'm thinking you aren't meant to be here."

Loki coughed, finally raising his eyes to meet Fury's. His voice was scratchy and hoarse - the Widow had spent several minutes choking him, cutting off his air until he was sure Death stood but a heartbeat away. "I- am not- lying- you imbecile."

"Sure. Should I just call Thor down, then?"

"By all means," Loki rasped. He won't come. Not for me.

Fury's face darkened. "Make sure he's telling the truth, Romanov."

The Widow strode forward, planting a foot onto Loki's chest and slamming his back to the ground. She straddled him as he struggled for breath, grasping his chained wrists in one hand and pinning them to the floor above his head.

"I'll ask you again," she said, voice deceptively sweet. "Are you lying to us?"

"No," Loki gasped, shaking his head. The Widow's mouth curled into a sneer, and she wrapped her other hand about his throat, slowly squeezing. Loki closed his eyes, willing his frantic heart not to panic; surely they would not kill him.

Or would they?

There were spots in his vision; the room shifted and blurred as Loki's lungs shrieked for air, straining against the weight on his chest and the ruthless fingers crushing his throat.

Tony, please...

He could almost feel his soul leaving his body, his consciousness succumbing, before the pressure suddenly relaxed and then there was air and he could /breathe./

"Now, one last time: are you telling us the truth?"

Loki nodded, arching his back as he choked and wheezed and gulped in the sweet air.

Fury regarded him for a moment.

"What do you think, Romanov?"

"I think there's a feasible chance he isn't lying."

"You sure about that?"

"I have quite a bit of experience, Director," she said, smiling coldly. "He might be telling the truth. Or, at least, I can't say for sure that he's lying."

"Right." Fury moved closer to Loki, who had for the most part regained control of his lungs. "So… Maybe you were banished. If so, why? Why didn't they just throw you in prison and be done with it?"

Yes, why?

"Why don't you- ask them?"

"Because they're not here, imbecile."

In spite of himself, Loki laughed.

"If you were banished, why didn't Thor breathe a word to us?"

"There must- must have been other matters on his mind."

"Other matters? Matters more important than a damn criminal walking around?"

Loki's heart twisted. "More important than a defeated and powerless traitor? I can scarcely imagine it."

Fury tilted his head a little at Loki's words, as though pondering something. "You think Thor didn't say anything because he didn't think it was important?"

"Why would it be?"

"Is that a question I really need to answer?"

Loki sighed. "If it really matters all that much to you, ask him when he next visits. I have heard that he has come down several times during my… exile."

"Heard? You didn't see him?"

"No. Why would I?"

Fury frowned. "Maybe because you're his brother."

Loki laughed, louder this time. "After all this time, Thor is still-" he coughed- "he still believes that? Fool."

"Maybe." Fury began pacing again. "You can get up off the floor, you know."

"And be thrown down again by your agent? I think not. This way, I can save her the trouble."

Romanov almost, almost, twitched her lips into a smile.

"Now, what I don't get is why you're blue," Fury said, turning and facing Loki with narrowed eyes. "Care to explain?"

Loki pushed himself up so that he was sitting against the wall. "Surely Thor has told you of my… heritage."

"You mean that you're a Frost Giant?"

Loki winced. "Yes, that is the… colloquial term. They are more correctly known as the Jotnar, or Jotun in the singular."

Fury rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the linguistics lesson. Anything different about you in this… form?"

"Nothing of significance," Loki said warily. He did not think it was a good idea to disclose his current vulnerability to heat.

"Mm-hm." Fury paused for a moment, then pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Coulson, tell me the status of the X project."

Coulson?

Loki's heart stuttered for moment.

That was… That was the mortal he had…

"Yeah, Coulson's alive," Fury said smugly. "Your scepter didn't quite do the job. He's up and running, good as new."

Loki tried to veil his shock. "And may I inquire as to this 'X project?'"

Fury laughed. "You'll find out soon enough."

He didn't like the sound of that at all.

Steve had been prowling the Helicarrier all morning, unable to sit still. No matter what he tried to occupy himself with - training, boxing, potential missions - he couldn't get the though of Loki out of his mind. The image of the god bound and huddled in the corner of the bare cell, practically radiating self-hatred, was indelibly imprinted upon his thoughts. He couldn't shake the conviction that what he'd done, the choice he'd made, was wrong.

But if it was wrong, then what was he supposed to do? Break Loki out?

No, he couldn't do that. There were official ways to protest treatment of prisoners, which Steve would much rather utilize than sheer force. And, after all, there were certain standards that Fury had to follow; whatever was done to Loki, it wouldn't be all that bad.

Even so… It was probably best that he check on Loki and make sure that nothing had gone wrong. The agents guarding the god might be dishonorable and try to mete out their own revenge, something Steve would not condone.

The walk to the detention area was short; somehow, in his restless wandering, Steve had not managed to stray too far from the corridors of faceless gray cells. Loki's was deep in the labyrinth, lock and sealed and bolted and guarded by thirty men. None stopped Steve as he strode between them, making his way to the cell door - only to be stopped by Fury as the Director was exiting the little room.

"Cap," the man said blankly. "I don't remember calling you here."

"You didn't. I came to check on Loki."

"He's not getting away, I promise you. This is our highest security cell, and with his magic all locked up-"

"That's not what I was worried about." The tone of his voice supplied the necessary information.

Fury's eyes narrowed. "If you're worried about his treatment, Captain, then you can rest easy. We are not torturing him."

"Can I see him?"

A slight hesitation. "Now might not be the best time."

"Why?" Steve unconsciously shifted into a more intimidating pose, his arms flexing minutely.

"We're running some tests."

"Tests."

"Yes, Captain."

"I don't think I need to tell you how many times "tests" has been used as a cover-up for other things."

Fury's face darkened. "I appreciate your concern, Captain, but I think I can handle everything from here."

"I don't think so."

"Are you disobeying an order?"

"I wasn't aware that there was one."

The pause was colder than ice.

"Fine," Fury grumbled. "There are cameras in there. You can watch from the surveillance room. But you are not, under any circumstances, to enter that cell. Do you understand?"

Steve hesitated for a long moment. "I do."

"Good." Fury swept past him, muttering to one of the guards to take Steve to the aforesaid room. Steve followed, glancing about warily as though hoping to detect some sign of what exactly was being done to Loki. He hope that Fury was right - that it was harmless - but he wasn't naive enough to take the Director at his word. Fury wasn't a bad man, but he wasn't above using the methods necessary to achieve his goals.

The room was small and dark, filled to the brim with screens showing views of every cell in the detention area. Steve was directed to five monitors that displayed different angles of Loki's cell. He let out a breath of relief; Loki was sitting against the wall, relatively relaxed, as two other men busied themselves a few feet away. Steve had almost been afraid of what he would see - judging by the scene before him, there wasn't anything to worry about.

Yet.

Several minutes passed in which nothing significant happened. Loki yawned, completely ignored by the two others in his cell. The men were dressed in white lab coats, which Steve found rather disquieting, but they hadn't yet done anything harmful.

One of the men suddenly went over to Loki, grabbing his head rather roughly while the other approached with the muzzle. Loki struggled only a little, as though he knew he could not win, before the device was clamped around his jaw. Steve leaned forward, uneasy. Whatever reason they had for suddenly needing to silence the god probably wasn't a good one.

The taller of the two scientists, a man with bright blond hair, retrieved a small syringe from his pocket. From Steve could see, the substance inside it was of a gray hue - what it could be, he had no clue. Loki, however, seemed to find it repulsive, because he suddenly began struggling, trying to scramble away from the man with the syringe. With bound hands, however, it was easy for the shorter man to restrain him, and his hair was pushed back to bare his bruised neck before the syringe was plunged in. For a moment, Loki was rigid, eyes wide, arms tugging vainly at the grip that had them pinned to the wall above his head - and then he arched his back and screamed.

Steve was halfway to the cell before the agent standing beside him could register that he had left.

Pain pain pain pain PAIN PAIN-

White hot burning freezing stinging-

There was fire in his chest, in his head, clawing through his veins and over his eyes and why wouldn't it stop why wouldn't it STOP-

Please, I'll do anything, please, just make it stop, I'll be good, I'll be good-

Thor, help me-

An inscrutable, painful haze of time passed before Loki's senses began to function again, before he could see and hear and breathe without his chest screaming in agony. He was only vaguely, distantly aware of the mortals standing over him, muttering and murmuring in muffled voices, examining him like a curious insect.

How many more times would they make him endure this?

Then there was shouting outside his cell, followed by the clanging of locks and bolts before the door suddenly flew open, revealing the tall figure of the American Captain. With the muzzle, Loki could not even speak to acknowledge the other's presence, but it was not himself them man was regarding with rage.

"What are you doing?"

One of the white-coated men trembled a little. "A- a test-"

"Get out."

The men were only too happy to obey, fleeing the cell before another moment had passed. Loki dimly wondered why the other guards had not yet ushered the Captain away.

Rogers, after watching the men leave, crossed the little room and crouched down by Loki's side. "Are you all right?"

Loki had no desire to reveal weakness, but answering in the positive might be a little unbelievable when he was still shaking and wheezing.

"Of course you're not," Rogers muttered. "Dumb question. Do you know if there's a way I can get that muzzle off?"

Loki only stared. What?

Rogers frowned, then carefully reached around to the back of Loki's neck, fingers fiddling with the muzzle. Seconds later, there was a small click, and the man gently detached the thing from Loki's face, wincing at the sight of the glistening blood and raw skin underneath.

The device was not exactly meant to be comfortable, after all.

The captain tossed the muzzle away, turning to regard Loki with startlingly blue eyes - blue almost like Thor's. There was so much in that gaze that Loki did not understand: pity, sympathy, guilt, remorse… Why would the man feel any of those things? He had undoubtedly made the right decision in handing Loki over to S.H.I.E.L.D.; what qualms could he possibly have? Why would it matter to him if Loki suffered a little? Surely it was deserved.

"Is there… Is there anything you need?"

Loki was beginning to wonder if the mortals would ever cease confusing him.

He tried to answer - he did not even know what he was going to say - but he could muster nothing more than a dry cough.

"Water," Rogers muttered, standing and searching the scientists' equipment. Fortunately, one of them had brought a clear bottle of water - nearly identical to the one Tony had set down in front of Loki when he discovered the god in the abandoned shop - which Rogers promptly opened and held to Loki's lips.

"Thank you," Loki whispered, wiping some of the blood and wetness away when he had sated his thirst. His gratitude was genuine; he knew that he would likely experience very little kindness before S.H.I.E.L.D. decided to execute him, and there was no point in refusing what little comfort could be offered before then. What did it matter if they looked down upon him for it? He would be dead soon enough.

"I'm sorry," Rogers said suddenly, looking away. "I didn't know… This isn't something I agreed to. If I'd known Fury would do this, I wouldn't have brought you here. I'm sorry."

Loki furrowed his eyebrows. Why were the humans so illogical? "Why should it matter?" he said quietly, voice still weak. "It is nothing I do not deserve."

Rogers frowned. "No one deserves to be a lab rat."

Loki had never before heard that particular term, but he could guess easily enough at its meaning. "It is… kind of you to say that."

"No, don't thank me," the captain said, shaking his head. "I'm the one that landed you here in the first place. I'll try and talk Fury out of this - I'm sure he'll see reason. If not, we can call Thor down and have him explain everything."

Thor? Loki laughed bitterly. "You may try that, but do not expect him to respond. I am not a high priority for Asgard; there are other matters more worthy of their attention."

"Worthy of their attention? Are you saying Thor wouldn't consider his own brother important to him?"

"He would, I think, if he had a brother."

"Thor doesn't make a distinction between blood and adopted, and neither do I."

"Doesn't he, now? I wonder, then, if I were Aesir, if he would have visited me in my exile."

Rogers paused for a moment. "I'm sure there's a reason he couldn't come."

"A reason that he could visit his mortal friends, but not me?"

"Yes," Rogers replied, though he sounded less sure of himself.

At that moment, booted feed sounded in the hall outside, growing in volume until the raging figure of Director Fury suddenly filled the small cell.

"I GAVE YOU AN ORDER, DAMNIT!"

"Director." The captain stood, gazing straight into his superior's blazing eyes.

"Leave. Now."

There was no room for argument; that much was obvious from the fuming anger radiating in waves from the black-coated man.

Rogers, however, was not so easily cowed. Loki felt a small twinge of amusement, seeing the two men attempt to glare each other into submission.

"There are fifty armed agents outside," Fury said in a low, dangerous voice. "If they don't shoot you, they'll shoot Loki for sure. Let them escort you out of the building, and everything is taken care of the easy way."

"What's the hard way?"

"Do you really want to find out?"

There was another icy pause. Finally, Rogers stepped back, though there was a gleam in his eyes that said he was not surrendering yet.

"Smart move," Fury sneered as Rogers turned and left the cell, glancing once at Loki.

I'm coming back for you, the glance said. Promised.

Loki almost laughed.

No one ever came back for him.