Loki somehow made it all the way to the elevator on his own, Stark's hand hovering a thumb above his arm serving more as a motivator than actual help. It was yet a different elevator this time and Loki busied himself with puzzling out the underlying logic, because there definitely was a pattern behind the madness, he just couldn't see it yet.
Stark's gaze drifted down to Loki's feet and his brow furrowed. "Huh."
Loki shrugged. There were no shoes in the supplies Stark brought him, so his only choice of footwear were the purple slippers Bruce procured somewhere that Loki refused to wear, on principle, and the heavy combat boots SHIELD had given him. Loki would have gone with the boots, but he wasn't leaving the building and the many straps and laces and buckles were not worth the effort. He gave it no second thought, really. For prisoners on Sanctuary, having garments to cover themselves with was a privilege, not a right.
Stark laughed and it sounded like amusement, not mockery. "Aliens," he uttered under his breath, and threw his hands to the sides.
There was a rather lengthy corridor to cover from the elevator to the room with the machine Stark and Bruce wanted to use on Loki, and Loki focused on taking in his surroundings and not on wondering how awful the procedure was going to be. The human didn't seem to think it a big event, so there was hope it wasn't going to be too awful.
At least Stark had asked first.
Thanos had all sorts of machines in his possession and Loki's opinion mattered little to how they would be used on him.
It usually involved pain, various kinds of it, but they all amounted to the same thing in the end. Thanos wasn't too creative in that area. His children though… Oh, they could get very creative. The youngest one – Nebula – especially. She was going out of her way to impress her father and Loki would tell her how futile such attempts are if he were allowed to speak. He was not though, so the girl would have to find that out on her own, someday.
Bruce and Agent Romanoff were waiting for them in the lab. Romanoff smiled at Loki when he entered the room, and a shiver ran down Loki's spine at the sight. Why was she even there? He promised he would cooperate, did he not? He came willingly. He needed no guard.
The room looked like the polar opposite of the Sanctuary torture chambers. In fact, it seemed entirely unthreatening, with big windows, bright lights all across the spacious area, and sleek yet utilitarian furnishings. The only suspicious device was the big, cylindrical apparatus, with a hole in the middle that made it look a bit like a blacksmith's furnace with a person-sized tray sticking out of it, but made of bright, polished metal. It was enclosed behind thick glass panes, that divided it from the rest of the room. Loki was almost certain he saw similar machines on Midgard before, in hospitals, where they were used as some sort of diagnostic devices, a primitive version of the Soul Forges Asgard's healers used. It didn't seem to have any restraints, so perhaps that was the main use of this one as well.
Bruce beckoned him to sit down on a stool next to one of the workbenches.
"Thank you for agreeing to do this," the man said.
Loki inclined his head politely, even though the courtesies seemed highly out of place. The agreement was just a formality, to make things easier for all of them. Should he say no, it would take no time to get Romanoff or Fury to order him to do it, an order he would have to follow. Loki would rather avoid the extra, unnecessary steps.
"I think we should start with a control scan, then an energy transfer and another scan. It's not advisable for humans to do two consecutive scans, but we've already determined your metabolism has a way of dealing with radiation quickly, so at least that's a non-issue. You think it's possible you can do the energy thing without passing out this time?"
"Yes. It was… an unfortunate incident. It shouldn't happen again if I'm more careful." It shouldn't have happened at all, but he was too weak and too drained to withstand the wave of unfamiliar energy coursing through his body after months of going without it.
"Great," Bruce said, procured a bag with a clear liquid and pointed at the needle in Loki's vein. "It's a contrast medium. It allows the machine to, uhm, see better. It's completely harmless to humans and – from what I could deduct from the tests I've done – it should be the same with your body chemistry. Do let me know if you feel something's not right, okay? Some people experience nausea or light-headedness after the administration."
Loki nodded. There was no point in arguing with the doctor.
Stark pulled a nearby stand closer. Bruce hooked the tube into Loki's vein and opened the flow. Loki straightened his back and braced for… well, something.
Bruce and Stark discussed the details of the procedure and Romanoff propped herself up onto one of the workbenches so her legs were dangling down and pulled out her phone.
A few minutes passed.
"That should be enough," Bruce said, examining the now half-empty bag. "You're feeling all right?"
"Yes," Loki said, a bit incredulously. He couldn't possibly be this lucky, could he?
Bruce smiled at him, pressed a button, and one of the glass panels slid aside. He gestured towards the tray of the device. "Hop on."
Loki trudged over and pulled himself up on the tray.
"Now, lie down on your back. Head that way," Bruce instructed, pointing towards the heart of the machine.
Loki followed the order.
"Keep your arms at your sides."
Loki did.
The doctor nudged his head up and placed a piece of profiled foam under his neck, keeping his head in place. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
Bruce stepped out of the enclosure and the glass panel slid into place and secured with a mechanical hiss. Then the glass clouded, turned opaque and then into a mirror, cutting Loki out from seeing anything happening outside. He turned his gaze to the ceiling to avoid looking at his own reflection. There was nothing pleasant to see there anyway. He curled his hands into fists and gritted his teeth to control his instincts. They were all chanting at him, urging him to flee.
"That's just a safety precaution," came Bruce's voice, now from a speaker in the corner. "The reflective layers protect the people outside from radiation. It's relatively mild, but prolonged exposures can be harmful to humans… on most occasions."
The machine turned on and the tray moved and Loki fought himself to stay in place, because there still were no clamps or manacles to do it for him and remove the control of the situation safely out of his hands.
Perhaps that was the part of the experiment, too?
The tray stopped. The cylinder was engulfing him now from his knees up, but the opening remained unobstructed, offering a promise of escape. It was illusory, of course, he would still be trapped in the room, but it was there.
"Okay, try to relax, it's going to take just a moment."
The machine started cycling, sending vibrations along the frame, onto the surface under Loki's back and into his bones. The radiation tingled on his tongue and prickled on his skin, but the doctor hadn't been lying – it was mild, way below the level that could be harmful, at least for him.
The inside of the machine was lit up with small lights and there was an artificial air current whistling past. Was it a comfort feature or did it serve some purpose for the test as well?
Loki closed his eyes, and – following Bruce's advice – tried to relax, wondering how long it would take for the main part of the procedure to start.
"And… we're good," Bruce's voice came.
The machine winded down and the tray retracted.
"That's…it?"
"Yeah. It must feel anticlimactic from the inside, but we got a clear image and that's what we were after. Want to have a look?"
The mirror effect dissipated, the glass partition returned to its previous, translucent state, and the panel slid open again.
"Yes," Loki said, hoisting himself off the machine. He did feel a little light-headed, he realized, but he wasn't sure if it wasn't just from getting up too quickly. He had spent days in bed after all.
The array of displays showed a full, virtual model of a body. His body. The mortals took their machines and peered inside him, as if he was an open book for them to read.
He sighed. At least they didn't cut open his flesh for that, not like Thanos had done.
Bruce guided him to another couch, where he was asked to lie down again. At least this one had the backrest raised, so he didn't have to lie flat and exposed, giving him a sliver of the illusion of safety back.
"I'll have to ask you to remove your shirt," Bruce said, abashed.
Loki did, and just as that, the illusion of safety was gone.
Bruce attached contact pads to his body, on his forehead and temples, on his neck, a couple across his chest, stomach, and along his arms, then he instructed Loki to turn around and applied some on his back. Then there were wires, hooked up to a yet another machine. So, this was going to be the hard part then.
Loki was then instructed to lie down.
Bruce turned the knob on the machine and Loki squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, gripping the edge of the cot. And then nothing happened.
"It's just sensors, Princess," Stark said lightly, but there was an uncertain edge to his voice. "So we know where the juice goes when you draw it. Nothing of this is going to be… invasive, I promise."
The implication slowly unfolded in his brain. They were not going to hurt him.
Stark's face was bearing a sad smile once Loki gathered enough courage to look at the man again. Then he proceeded to unbutton his shirt. "Shall we?"
Loki was a lot more careful drawing the energy this time, going slower and directing it where it should go and – in the end – he was able to source more without fainting. Stark had said he would stop him if Loki got below the safe level, but he never did, so it was indeed quite a capable source. It did little to make Loki feel any less guilty for taking from it so greedily.
"Thank you," he said, looking at Stark, as the man was buttoning his shirt back up. He didn't thank him the last time, so that was the least he could do to amend that.
Stark waved his hand at him dismissively. "Did you get the readouts?" he asked Bruce.
Bruce peeked up from over his row of monitors. Loki couldn't see what they displayed from his perspective, but – whatever it was – must've been intriguing, judging from the way the man's eyes were darting back and forth.
"Yes. It's… fascinating, even though I can't make sense of that yet. I'll need to run a full comparative analysis and make a model to…"
"I'll help you later. I'm better at the software side of things anyway," Stark said, wiggling his fingers in a pantomime of typing. "Let's just wrap things up here first."
Loki could read between the lines well enough to know what Stark meant. They needed him out of here to be able to work on the data they've collected without him looking over their shoulders. It was discouraging, but not entirely surprising. And Loki had already agreed to the procedure, with all its consequences.
Bruce urged him back into the glass enclosure and ordered him onto the tray of the machine again and Loki obeyed, with a lot less trepidation this time.
"Come on, I'll take you back to your room," Romanoff said, when the scan was finished and Loki didn't protest when she led him to the elevator.
She hesitated with her hand over the control panel. "You look better," she said, observing him through slanted eyes.
"Yes, the energy transfers help," he admitted carefully, even though it wasn't a question. It was still an assessment of his condition and he could only guess the purpose of it.
"That's something, right?" she said with a smile. "So, you want to go straight back to your room?"
"Is there any other option?"
She smirked. "Well, we could grab something to eat and go to the patio on the roof?"
He crooked his head and regarded her for a moment. "Why?"
"And why not? It's nice outside, I have a day off because my trainee is sick and you're feeling better. Some fresh air will do you good."
He stared at her, unsure of what to think.
"The 'fresh' part of 'fresh air' might be a bit of an overstatement. We are in New York, after all. But it's a nice day and you look like you could use some sun. Sickly pale skin went out of fashion somewhere in the Victorian era."
He sighed.
"I'm making no sense to you, am I?"
"Very little, Agent Romanoff."
She chuckled. "You make it so easy to forget you're not a human."
"Because I'm so weak?"
She rolled her eyes. "Low blow. So? Your room or the roof?"
"The roof."