Warnings: None that I can think of.

Natasha is back again. She comes just as si…silen…he tries to remember the word but it won't come. He settles for 'quiet'. It sounds right…is it right? He doesn't know. Maybe Natasha will tell him. He sits up straighter and starts to ask.

"This one - "

No!

He isn't allowed to ask questions.

Questions are for…for…Master? Yes, for Master and…and the Other. Not him. Never him. Questions only make Them hit him. They don't want to, he makes Them. He is being bad when he asks questions. So, Master has Them punish him to remind him. He doesn't ask questions anymore. He is good.

He focuses all his attention back on Natasha. She sits in the same chair as last time. He takes note of that for when he is better. He can't get out of the bed yet, they say he's...not ready, too hurt. But once They let him, it'll be his job to antici…anticipa…look for what she likes. If she always sits in that chair then he will get it for her before she comes next time. He'll make her see he is good now and that she doesn't have to hurt him.

"You look better today," Natasha says and smiles. It's still fake, but he thinks he likes it anyway. He feels it means she is happy with him. He's done a good thing, so he nods. Her smile does something funny, but stays. "I have some more questions for you."

She sets a small bowl with a lid on the table beside him. It's blue and white.

"Answer well and you get it," she says.

He nods. It's another test. Maybe he'll do well in it like he did the last one. He hopes so.

"Who is Master?" Natasha asks.

He can't help it, he stiffens. He sucks in a breath at the pain that makes - ribs hurt and back burns - but pushes it away. Natasha asked a question. Questions must be answered. Answered. But...he...Master is...

You are nothing, Runt. The very air you breathe is a gift from me. You're not worthy of anything, but I am kind and thus I let you live. Remember that.

Natasha leans in. "Relax, I'm not here to hurt you. Just curious. You don't have to answer."

But he does and she knows that. He knows that. Master knows that. He blinks. Master has sent her. Master wants him to be good. "Master is kind."

He knows it's the right answer, but...somewhere he remembers someone saying Those in power should not use blows to make others follow them. It creates fear and nothing else, my son.

Natasha's eyes get angry and he cringes. He's done a bad thing. But why? What did he do? He said a good thing…didn't he? But Natasha's mad and he did that, so he must've said a bad thing. He tries to think what word was bad, but can't find it. That happens sometimes. Maybe...maybe it's because he thought something bad. Maybe Natasha is like Master and knows what he thinks.

"Sorry," he whispers. Tears well up and he tries to hide them.

Is the little Runt sad? Is he sorry?

Natasha sees them anyway and her anger leaves. "No, I'm sorry. I'm not angry at you."

She's not? But there's no one else in the room.

Natasha pushes the bowl closer to him. "You answered well, Loki. Just a few more."

Loki? He frowns. Why does she call him that? Loki is dead. Master said so. They say so. But Natasha is calling him that. Something whines and he realizes that it's him and that he's pulling at his hair. Natasha grabs his wrists and tugs them gently down.

"Don't," she says.

"Sorry…"

She lets go of his wrists and sits back. "So, Master is kind?"

"Yes."

"Is he powerful?"

The universe will bend to my will!

"Master rules."

"I see. And does he rule the Chitauri?"

He stops himself in time. Natasha is Chitauri…he thinks so…She looks different, but she has to be Chitauri. Master only lets Them see him. And They are strong. They always say that. They say They are…are…not slaves? He's not sure what that means, but They say it all the time to him.

We are different from you, Runt. We are not slaves.

"Loki, does Master rule the Chitauri?"

He grabs his blanket in both hands. This has to be the right answer. "The Chitauri are not slaves."

Natasha blinks and smiles. "I understand. Good job, Loki."

He can breathe again. He's done a good job. Good job. Good job, Loki. But Loki's dead. Master says so. But Natasha calls him Loki. But Loki's dead. Dead, dead, dead. Master says so.

He hits his leg with his fist. Over and over and over. He's done a bad thing and must be punished. Bad thing. He hits his leg as hard as he can. Bad, bad, bad. Loki is dead. Master says so. Master is always right. Chitauri are not slaves. Master is strong. Loki is dead.

He tries to hit his leg again but something is holding his wrist, stopping him. He glances down and sees it's Natasha. He looks at her. Why did she stop him? He's done a bad thing.

She frowns. "Stop."

He does. Master sent her and so he does what she says. Master says to always listen to everyone he sends.

"Why did you hit yourself?" she asks as she lets go of his wrist again.

"Loki is dead."

Her eyes look past him and then harden. "I see. I apologize. I forgot."

He nods. He does that too sometimes. He hopes Master doesn't hit her too hard. He likes her. "This one's fault. Tell Master."

She huffs, but smiles again. "Thank you."

Something warm crawls into his chest. He's done a good thing. She thanked him. Master will be happy with him now, even though he did a bad thing too.

Natasha pushes the bowl to him and takes the lid off. He smells the hot liquid inside. It's…broth? Yes, broth. The man with curly hair and the angry smell...Bruce. Bruce said so. Natasha waves at the bowl. "Eat."

He takes it and cradles it close. He's done a good thing, so now he gets more broth. He's glad. He likes broth. He doesn't care that it's small and burns his tongue sometimes and makes his stomach hurt. It tastes…tastes…It tastes! And they always give him more each time. Master will be happy. He's being good.

He looks up, but Natasha is already gone. He sips the broth. She'll be back and maybe she'll bring more broth with her.

He likes broth.

I apologize if Loki's repetitive language is getting on anyone's nerve. It's just, he's been reduced to such a primitive state that he only knows certain, simple words. Later on in the story he'll get his extensive vocabulary back, about the same time his memories come back, so never fear. Just hang in there with me.

Sorry, too, that it's so short. It's more a filler. Next week should, hopefully, be longer. *crosses fingers and toes*

As usual, please comment/review. I would really love to know your opinions on this chappie.