A few weeks later, Loki was able to decipher general shapes of things, colors, and had the slightest bit of depth perception. He could tell who was in a room with him, and could walk around with minimal assistance. Tony had procured glasses for him from someplace, and, with them on, Loki could just barely make out the messages written on his cast.

Praying for you, Steve Rogers,

:) – Clint

Get well soon, Natasha

Best wishes, Thor

Bruce Banner – (with a tiny doodle of the Hulk hugging Loki)

Tony Stark

T Stark

Tony

The Man.

Iron Man

And so on… Come to think of it, Tony had signed the plaster over a dozen times. Exactly two months after Thor had rescued hm, Loki lay curled up in an easy chair in the communal floor, squinting through his glasses at a book he held (even with the glasses, not everything was easy to discern), when the whole tower shook, and there was a brilliant flash of light that made him wince, and look up. There was a figure standing in the room, who hadn't previously been there.

Loki nervously gulped, shrinking down in his chair. Thor got up from the chair across from him, and went to talk to the person, but Loki was still deaf as a doornail, and could only watch the blobs conversing with each other.

The newcomer was tall, with a red cape, rather thickly set, with light-colored hair and yellow, or possibly golden clothes, but that was all he could discern. Thor appeared to be very animated in his discussion, so Loki deduced it must be someone he knew well.

With a horrible sinking feeling, Loki realized who this person was. They'd appeared in a flash of light, they had the right body type, and the cape…

Loki gulped in dread. It was Odin.

He dared not move, hoping the Allfather wouldn't notice him, sitting there.

Why in the nine was he here? Did he want to take Loki back? Did he want him punished for his escape?

The Trickster realized he was shaking in fear, and grit his teeth to keep them from chattering. He had no magic, obviously, so he couldn't cast an invisibility spell and make a break for it…

With a start, he realized Thor had turned, and begun walking towards him. He shook his head in disbelief as his brother crouched down beside him, and spelled out in his hand, He wishes to speak to you. Clint had been teaching him the Midgardian language of hands, or "ASL", as he called it. Loki could, by now, count to ten, spell out the entire Midgardian alphabet, and utilize a few day-to-day phrases. "I'm hungry", "May I have that?", or "Thor, you knucklehead.". Only the necessities, really. Thor found it simpler, still, to continue spelling the phrases out in his hands, until he could see well enough to read lips. It was a skill he'd picked up over the course of many of their quests, when Loki would need to understand a message Thor was giving him, without any actual noise for their enemies to hear.

All this to say, it didn't really matter what Thor said in Loki's palm. Loki already knew Odin wanted to talk to him. He knew very well. And, he was rather sure of what the Allfather wanted to say to him.

Odin sat down in the chair next to him, and at this close proximity, Loki could just barely make out the expression on his face. He wasn't pleased. Loki bit back a shudder, and held out his hand to his adopted Father.

After all, what could go seriously wrong? Thor was here, Steve was across the room, arguing about something with Tony, like usual, so if the Allfather tried to return him to the dungeons, he wouldn't go down without a fight. He resisted the urge to clench his good fist. Odin needed it to communicate his displeasure.

Odin accepted the offered hand, but didn't spell anything into it, simply held it between his rough, battle-worn palms for a rather long moment. He didn't speak; Loki could see that his mouth was not moving. He simply… sat there, rubbing Loki's shaking knuckles with his thumb.

My son. He finally spelled out. That was unexpected. Do not be afraid.

Loki found himself unable to comply.

I have no wish to harm you. The Allfather continued.

"Then why did you?" Loki blurted.

I did not. I simply was unable to personally save you from your tormentors. It would have caused a war.

"Then… why did you not even visit me?" Loki gasped. "I thought… I thought you'd forgotten!"

I did not forget you. I did visit you. You simply were unaware of my presence. I had to make sure they weren't treating you too badly.

"Treating me too badly…" Loki echoed. "And… did they, in your opinion? Was the… the daily beating not bad, in your eyes? The way they scorned and spit on me like a-a-a disgraceful drunk? The way they claimed me like some sort of…" Loki felt tears dripping off his chin, suddenly aware he was crying. "I wished for death, Allfather, and… and even death did not want me! They… they…" Loki choked on his own words, and pulled his knees up to his chest, sobbing miserably, as Thor wrapped him in an enormous hug, telling something to his father.

Odin gently placed a hand on Loki's shoulder, and, tepidly, Loki offered up a hand for him to write on.

I did all I could, Loki. The fact that you are out of there, at all, is entirely my doing.

Loki looked up, wiping the tears off his face. "What?" He didn't want to think about how childish and pathetic his voice must sound.

I sent Thor down to fetch you.

It's true. Thor traced on his cheek.

Loki, I was not the best father to you.

Loki let out a bark of incredulous laughter.

I'm doing my best, though. I wish to be here for you.

Loki blinked his tears back, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

I'm sorry for what happened. If it had been solely my choice, I would never have let this happen, but as you well know, the people of Asgard despise you. They would have revolted, had I done anything less. What the guards did to you was not part of the punishment.

"You're… sorry?" Loki sniffled. "But…"

Is there anything I could do to make it up to you?

Loki hesitated, then shook his head. He'd made his decision.

The Avengers had allowed him the safety of their tower, opened their hearts to him, and entirely forgiven him for any and every wrong he had caused them. Clint, the man who has every reason to despise him, was now one of his closest friends. If the Avengers were willing to forgive Loki's transgressions, how could Loki do any less?

"You can't make it up to me." He quietly stated. (Well, he hoped it was quiet. He wasn't really the best judge of his voice, these days.) "Because I've already…" He hesitated, thinking of Odin's stoic face as Loki screamed and writhed in agony on the floor as his magic was ripped from him. Thinking of the horrible, roaming, greedy hands in the dungeons. Thinking of "No, Loki", and "Laufey's son". Then, thinking of the smiling face of Anthony, as he explained a scientific theory to Loki. Of the captain, baking him cookies. Clint, with his perpetual smiley face, and how much worse his own deeds were. "I've already forgiven you." He smiled softly at the blob that was his father.

That was when Shadow decided to jump onto Odin's lap, causing the great king of Asgard to scream at the top of his lungs at the sudden appearance of the Midgardian creature. Shadow, needless to say, went flying.

After another month had passed, Loki could, with his glasses, see just as clearly as he had before he lost his eyesight. He was still entirely deaf, since his entire inner ear seemed to have fused together from the "incident", as everyone called it, now. Loki had his own room in the Avengers compound, and he often worked with Anthony and Bruce in the laboratory. Life had settled into a new semblance of "normal".

Loki began teaching Thor the Midgardian language of hands, and rather quickly, they would have long, heated arguments, just like normal, but completely soundless.

That was the only problem. Loki was becoming accustomed to living in total silence, and he hated that. His dreams rarely had sound, anymore. There was one day, when, with horror, he realized he didn't remember what Thor's laugh sounded like. A few seconds after that, he'd broken down in tears, because he didn't remember what his own laugh sounded like.

The nightmares never ceased, and they were the worst of it. He would dream that he'd lost his eyesight, again, or that he was, once again, in that cold, stone cell, hurting with every fiber of his body as he wept into the unfeeling tiles. Then he would wake up, and shuffle down the hall to Thor's room. The Thunderer never turned hm away, and was honestly extremely flattered that his little brother still was willing to come to him for comfort.

Frigga and Odin would visit their sons often, and would talk for long hours with the both of them. Loki came to adore these visits, instead of fearing them, and even, eventually, became comfortable around Odin.

It was a sad day for both the brothers when the news arrived that he had died, and that Thor had to ascend to the throne. Loki would never be welcomed on Asgard again, and he'd made a life, there on Midgard. A life he loved, and wanted to keep. He had friends, practically family, and he was happy.

When Thor left for Asgard, Loki stayed with the Avengers.

There were lonely days when Loki would sit at a window and cry for hours. But there was always someone who cared. Someone who would bake him cookies, or buy him a book, or tell him stupid jokes until he was laughing too hard to breathe.

But the moments he really lived for, was when Thor would visit from Asgard, and sneak up behind him to ambush him with a hug. They'd never be outranked.

Thus It Is Told.

TheOnlyHuman.