I love you all :3 *hugs*
There were no nightmares. At times, he thought he felt a flicker of Oriax's presence, a brush of hot iron on his back, a whisper of the whip slicing across his cheek… but every time, it was as if a warm bubble surrounded him, shielding him from the pain, hiding the memories as they threatened to overwhelm him. Soft and warm, a faint smell of almonds. But no nightmares. Just the comforting bubble of warmth that seemed strangely familiar. He could smell the same scent even as he awoke, needing a few groggy moments to remember where he was. The hot flush of shame hit him a moment later as he remembered completely, what had happened. Argh… He dragged a hand up and rubbed at his eyes, blinking as he stretched out and sat up. The world span briefly as he did so, so he reached out a steadying hand on the arm of the sofa and used it to support himself as he stood. His few stumbling steps were about as weak as his very first steps, but he made it to the edge of the bed and sat down on it heavily. His left knee was throbbing, as was his throat. And there was a bitter taste in his mouth, because he was well aware he was bordering on the very edge of severe malnourishment, but… He just couldn't seem to keep any food down. Drinks, he could, now. There was something amazing about having clean water, he'd found out.
He limped over to the door, then paused quite suddenly and sniffed the air. Almonds. He remembered now – Stark smelled faintly of almonds. The shampoo he used, Loki supposed, but it had been exactly the same smell accompanying the bubble that had kept him from nightmares. He smiled softly, then limped out into the corridor. Fury was there, waiting for him, down at the bottom end. Loki's lips twitched as he noticed that the Director was attempting a smile. It was… Certainly a valiant effort, he supposed. He was glad the Director didn't move to help him, even though he was clearly having difficulties. He would have felt ashamed to rely on him. So he limped painfully over, then took the Director's proffered arm, leaning on it for a few moments before locking his jaw and carrying on with as little aid as possible. Fury led him to the common room and sat him down on a chair. He was slightly confused as to the attention – why was he being led here? Surely, they did not care if he felt a little pain. The confusion must have shown, at least in part, because Doctor Banner rounded the counter – Loki hadn't noticed him, and blinked in surprise as he did see him – and sat down opposite him, smiling a little nervously. "Hey," he said by way of greeting. Loki cocked his head. Banner had seen him yesterday. Or two days ago. He nodded slightly, still curious and vaguely confused. "I've, uh…" Banner continued. "I'm going to be checking you over. As a doctor. I… I didn't think of doing any scans when you first came through, so…" the Doctor looked strangely nervous, fiddling with his fingers and shifting in his chair. He nodded in Loki's direction. "We'll fix the knee as much as we can… And, uh, the throat, too…"
Loki's eyes widened marginally, before he vaguely recalled mentioning the pear. He shuddered slightly at the memory but kept his attention on Banner. He nodded again, then finally opened his mouth and voiced the question that had been plaguing him for a long time… "Why…" he almost gagged at the rush of pain in his throat, but he swallowed it down and carried on with some difficulty, "Why would you help me?" At that, both Banner and Fury looked surprised, as if it was obvious. Loki didn't find it obvious, and narrowed his eyes at Banner and Fury respectively. Fury placed down a clear cylinder full of some sort of liquid he was holding and apparently decided to answer Loki. "Loki, we…" he apparently decided to take a different track after that, because he then said, "Why did you help Stark, a former enemy?" That answer was simple. "Because he didn't deserve the pain. Nobody does…" Except himself, probably. He'd done so much wrong over the years… Fury saw straight into his thoughts. "You don't deserve it either, Loki. None of it. And besides, it wasn't really you at New York, was it?" Clever man, Loki thought, and shook his head mutely, then considered it. He had been, in some way, aware, so technically he had been there at New York, but… "Not fully, no…" They'd torn into his mind, taken him for a visit to Oriax. Oh, she'd been delighted when Thanos had thrown him in front of her that first day of his long stay. She'd taken a liking to him from the very start.
He was still lost in his thoughts when Fury plunked down a glass of the strange liquid he'd been holding earlier. He pushed it towards Loki. "Smoothie," he grunted. "It'll be easier for you to keep down than normal food." Loki narrowed his eyes, then picked up the drink and sniffed it. Fruity. He hadn't eaten fruit for too long, he thought. He took a small sip and found it tasted of strawberries. Definitely his favourite food, he decided at that moment, even though he'd been indifferent to them before Oriax. But the flavour was quite delightful, and he took another few sips. Strawberry… Banana… Milk. If he recovered, he was going to travel all over Midgard tasting food, he promised himself. But… Strawberries. Suddenly they seemed like the most amazing thing to ever exist. He drank almost half the glass, before he felt that if he drank any more, his stomach might rebel again. But it seemed that it was treating the… Smoothie, as a liquid rather than food. No trace of the sickness he usually felt after eating anything. Perhaps he truly would recover eventually. "You done?" Banner asked casually, and he nodded. "Thank you," he whispered, then abruptly decided that speaking was a little too painful and he'd try avoid it where possible. Banner stood and motioned to him quietly. Loki assumed he wanted him to follow, so he stood, wincing as he put weight on his leg then mentally reprimanding himself for doing so. He managed to walk after Banner without any further outward signs of pain – other than his limp, of course, which he'd given up trying to hide because doing so just worsened it.
He lost track of where Banner led him after a while – it wasn't a long way, he was just too… Absorbed in his thoughts, he supposed, to pay necessary attention. Either how, they ended up in a rather medical-looking room with lots of large machines Loki didn't think looked particularly comforting… But he'd seen worse. Banner waved at a low hospital bed, and Loki sat on it, waiting. Banner began by producing… A stethoscope, Loki remembered from his time on Midgard. Used for measuring heart beats. He waited patiently as Banner instructed him to take deep breaths, complying. After some time, he felt a strange sort of lethargy creep up on him, even though he must have slept for at least a few hours earlier. He was tired enough that he might sleep a week though – not that he particularly wanted to. Banners hands were soothing as they turned him this way and that, completely unlike Oriax's firm grip. When she healed him, she usually levitated him in mid-air and used a rather fiendish healing spell which cause immense pain as it healed. Clearly mortals had very different methods. Though, he supposed, he himself was a mortal now. Banner was talking, saying something, but he couldn't be bothered to listen anymore, preferring to concentrate on the feeling of breath rushing in and out of his body, of his heart beating, of every tingle in his fingers and toes. He missed his magic, he mused. He missed the way he could just draw an illusion over himself and become someone completely different. He missed being a snake, too, or a bird. He'd loved being a jackdaw or another corvid, as the fancy took him. He thought carefully about magic for a while, then thought that perhaps, in the weeks to come, he might call on Doctor Strange, the man who had spoken to him in the astral realm and then the physical. Midgardian magic might not be the equal to what had run through his veins before, but it was certainly something.
Bruce watched as Loki slowly became more and more unresponsive, before finally his eyes slid closed and stayed closed, and he began to tilt to the side. As gently as he could, Bruce slipped a hand onto Loki's shoulder and slowly lowered him down, resolving to check his throat while he was asleep. If he was to do a scan, it might be best to sedate him, in case he woke and panicked… Yes. He prepared the needle, quickly, efficiently, and administered the correct dose that would keep him under for a good few hours at the very least. Loki's breathing shifted just slightly, deepening as his thin frame relaxed a little further. He turned at the sound of the door opening and saw Fury with two nurses. He recognised one as the nurse who had been looking after Loki and Tony when they had first arrived, though he couldn't for the life of him remember her name. "Hey," he greeted them instead, reaching out a hand that they both shook in turn, greeting him with smiles and nods. Fury looked on impassively until he finally decided to speak. "Banner, tell the nurses what you need looked at and come with me," he commanded. Bruce nodded and turned to the nurses. "I just sedated him so he wouldn't wake up in the machines, he'll need an internal scan – and I'll need you to look at his throat, left knee, and check for any infections – there might be one in his throat, he has a bit of a raised temperature…" Looking at Fury, he noted the tapping foot and hurriedly finished, "just check him all over, really," and then he nodded to them as he scurried out of the door after Fury. "Director?" he questioned as he struggled to keep up to Fury's long strides without breaking into a loping jog. "Meeting with the others," Fury grunted as he swooped into one of the smaller and cosier meeting rooms they liked to use. Nat, Steve and Clint were already waiting, so Bruce took a seat. Tony was absent, but it looked like Fury wasn't about to wait for him.
Fury paced up and down the width of the room a few times, then turned abruptly to face them all. "Do we trust him?" he asked bluntly. No preamble, no glossing over the words – Bruce liked that. Not that the topic was particularly pleasing, and it was pretty evident what he meant. Do they trust Loki enough to continue offering their aid, to perhaps give him a home in Stark tower. Bruce did have to think about it, had to weigh the possibilities against each other… Natasha, it seemed, had no such thoughts. She immediately nodded and said a simple, "Yes." Fury sniffed noncommittally and looked at her. "You were the most against him staying," he stated, then, "why the change?" Natasha didn't look flustered by the question at all. Something dark was lurking beneath her eyes, Bruce noted. Memories of her own, perhaps, and not pleasant ones. "Because that kind of illness can't be faked," she replied flatly. "I've seen that kind of thing before. It was genuine, and even if he is here to kill us again, there is no doubt that he is being forced to do so." Fury nodded then turned to the person next to Nat, which happened to be Steve. Steve waved a hand at Natasha. "I… Agree with Nat. I've seen similar, too." He seemed to have no more to say, so Fury turned to Bruce, omitting Clint entirely. He tapped his finger nervously on the edge of the table, treasuring the few seconds it bought him to think and sort his thoughts out. "His… Injuries are genuine. I can confirm that. His state of mind is… Clearly not good, either. He… I think he's trustable." Again, the noncommittal nod and finally, Fury turned to Clint and raised an eyebrow. "Barton?" he asked. Clint opened his mouth slightly and seemed to struggle for words for a while. "He's staying," he said eventually, firmly. For once in his life, Fury smiled. "Good. I was hoping we would all agree."
His smile faded after that and he looked them all in the eye again. "There's Stark, too." None of them said anything. Bruce suspected, by the set of Fury's face, that something had happened. He shifted forwards and leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands. "I think we've been a little… Lacking, in our support. Not -" he added quickly as Steve and Nat's eyes narrowed, "through any fault, but through ignorance. I think what happened to them is most likely worst than we suspect. And they are both stubborn fools, enough that they'll hide what pains them until it kills them." Bruce ducked his head in acknowledgement. They really were a stubborn pair. Fury carried on. "I wanted to establish that we all believe we ought to look after Loki – which I'm glad we do – and I'd like to warn you to be careful with them. They'll look fine, act fine, but…" Fury trailed off and his eyes darkened. "Is Tony all right?" Bruce finally, hesitantly asked. Fury shot a small glare around the room then shook his head minutely, before carrying on. "Just… Try remember that whatever the hell you think they've gone through, it's probably worse. I'm pretty damn certain they both came close to breaking, and it ain't easy to glue a mind back together." And then he swept out of the room, leaving them to quietly discuss together the incident with Loki earlier, and what might be wrong with Stark. And the rather significant fact that if Fury had called them together just for this… It must be important.