Thanks again for all the reviews, favourites, and follows. I hope you love this chapter as much as I do! :D

I don't own the Avengers or any characters there.

Trigger warning: abuse, torture

This story does not involve smut in any way, shape or form. It's only a little slashy at that, so if you want that, you'll need to go elsewhere. This takes place after the Avengers movie.

This entire story is already completed and edited. We have 4 more updates left. :) I'll be switching to updating in the evenings, when I get home, thus why this one is going up early (also it's one of my two favourite chapters)

Chapter 5

Clint couldn't tell you, if you asked, why he made sure he was always near Loki. He couldn't explain that he felt a bit of sympathy for the god and what was going on in his head. He couldn't really put to words that he thought that having something stable nearby was helpful (or that when he'd been under Loki had been that source of stability, even if that made him sick to think of now (it's not like Loki ever treated him with anything other than kindness when he was under(fuck))), but he knew all of it, and so as the days went by, he made sure he was nearby, or a room away, or something. Almost unconsciously started planning his days around Loki's wanderings.

And as the days and weeks went by, he didn't notice that he was the one that was nearly always around.

For the most part, Loki was still sticking to one word responses, but Steve had managed to get him eating-fruit, apples, always with the apples-and drinking-hot chocolate, preferably thick and with mini marshmallows-and he was starting to look less bone thin and more like, well Loki. Even if his wit stayed in his eyes and he shrank away from sudden noises and light. Hell, even his back was mostly just a network of scars instead of exposed muscle.

Clint was pretty sure that Loki at least accepted them, even if he was confused by all of them, by their care and their concern. Like how he tripped on the corner of a rug, and Steve caught him before he could fall. Loki had shot back out of the grip like it was a brand, but after that he'd seemed a little less guarded around Steve. Or the way Natasha had laughed at one of his rare one-line witticisms when Tony was snarking off on some tangent. He was, Clint would say and the rest would agree, getting used to them, and this life he had gained.

Loki still preferred to go up to the patio on the roof, to stare down, and Clint sometimes wondered if he was plotting taking over the world again or deciding if he could jump before anyone caught him. He didn't lean over the edge so dangerously, but they still didn't speak. And once, while Clint was reading he glanced up and saw that Loki was dancing. He stopped as soon as he realized Clint was looking, but still.

Clint tended to make sure he always looked like he was reading, and Loki would dance. Clint reasoned that it probably was helping build leg strength-never mind that there weren't even the pale white lines to show where the shards of his shin had been sticking out of the skin. And it was, in a way, graceful. Loki would stumble sometimes, but Clint didn't ever really look up to see because he knew that would probably make him scamper back inside and hide somewhere, and then where would they be? Square fucking one, like he'd told Steve. This at least showed something more like life and less like 'hurl self from building to end it all.'

He hoped that's what it showed.

He felt like a sap.

Eventually, he started reading on the same patio, instead of on the edge of where Tony would land when he got home, and that took a few days, but then Loki went back to dancing and Clint went back to reading just like they had before.

It was a movement that seemed just slightly off that caught Clint's eye, and he stopped reading, Loki in midjump, and he was aware, right then, that it hadn't worked right and it was going to be a poor landing, and on top of that it was so close to the edge...

He was up and moving, eyes following and mind racing and he managed to grab Loki before the god's ankle gave out under him, situating himself between the edge and Loki. He could feel the railing digging into his back, Loki all skin and bones and spasming muscles in his arms, black hair brushing against Clint's face. He didn't let go for a second, just held the god tightly, getting his heart to stop pounding quite so loudly in his ears.

When Loki looked up and met his gaze with those wide and vibrant and utterly insane green eyes, he wanted to swear in every language at the same time.

He loosened his grip, and Loki didn't immediately bolt. He got his feet back underneath himself slowly, tested his ankle, watched Clint. He used Clint to steady himself, and Clint realized he wasn't breathing as he watched Loki.

Loki did not say thank you, or acknowledge in any way that he fell, just a little of that stiff pride (he hoped it was pride) back. A little touch of Loki before all this.

"Clumsy," he said, with a grin, and Loki stiffened and looked back at him with a glare before disappearing back inside and Clint laughed.

XXXXXX

Tony ran his hand through his hair and Clint decided (because he is a polite assassin and not because he was sure he looked the same) not to comment on the way it made all his hair stick every which way.

"So he didn't freak out when you touched him?"

"No."

Tony took that in and added it to what he knew about the situation. He let his hands tinker with the part on his desk while his mind churned over the new thing, assorting and assembling. Clint let him. He felt like he was racing on empty, like something was going to happen and it wouldn't be pretty.

"Maybe he's starting to get enough of a self we could, you know, destroy it."

Tony stopped what he was doing to look at Clint.

"You know. That would be the easiest way. If there's another tesseract on Earth, the chunk in the staff doesn't belong to it. Without the staff you've got no control. Right? I mean, we clearly don't understand how the damn thing works, even after the past few weeks."

"That would be... that would be dumb."

"You just want to figure out the puzzle. What if we can't because it's not attuned to us? We don't listen to what it does, not like Loki. No one here knows magic like he does, but he's got that collar on and doesn't really talk. And no one is watching it and really pulling the strings anymore-they know Loki doesn't have it."

"Well, puzzle aside, that would be dumb. We don't even know how much of his 'self' is being held together by the thing controlling him. Him suddenly being willing to touch one person in the entire tower doesn't indicate anything."

"But he's starting to snark again. He's not flinching when someone comes in the room."

"That's recovering from trauma, not brain zappage."

"And if he does break? He going to know we did it?"

Tony frowned at him.

"You think he'll pull through it."

"I don't think he wants to die any more. It's worth a shot."

"Ok. Ok, we'll try it. But only because you asked so nicely."

Clint smirked. "And you're mad you can't figure out how it works."

Tony snorted, not willing to admit to anything of the sort.

XXXXXX

Steve was used to being the only one up when he made breakfast. Oh, occasionally Natasha would be there, or Clint, usually just before leaving for some assignment (which hadn't happened in a while, but he wasn't going to mention it to Clint because it was clearly doing good for Loki), but for the most part, it was just him. Once in a great while Tony would stagger in, usually just before he went to sleep after an all-night bender.

But the past few weeks, he had gotten used to seeing Loki there when he walked into the kitchen. The first time had sent the trickster jumping and slipping out the door before Steve could even say good morning, but now there was some sort of... truce between them. It usually made Steve smile a bit. He wasn't sure if Loki was there because he had woken up or hadn't gone to sleep yet, but he didn't ask about it like he would with the others.

Loki never asked for anything Steve was making, and so Steve never offered (though he really wanted to). All of them had learned Loki stuck around longer, grew more comfortable with them, the less they pointed out that Loki was still there while they did whatever. He'd slid a mug of coffee to him once, which had ended poorly; he made it up with hot chocolate (thick with milk and mini marshmallows), which the god clearly didn't trust but had then immediately begun to clutch to the drink to himself the way the rest of the team did coffee.

So Steve usually made him some hot chocolate (and he was sure Loki knew how to by now because the god drank it all day, but let Steve do it as some sort of indicator of trust) before he set the coffee on and started to make his breakfast. And Loki would sit at the bar, with whatever variety of apple Miss Potts had picked out for him that week, and carefully slice it and eat it. Usually after dipping it in the hot chocolate, which had been an accidental discovery. And when Steve was done cooking he'd leave, and Steve would eat his breakfast alone.

This morning, Loki was there, all the apples spread on the counter as he carefully picked the least bruised one (that was something Steve did tell Miss Potts about, because it was the sort of thing she would like to know), and his glance flicked up to Steve and down, probably recognizing him more by the sound of his footstep than seeing him. Steve began to make the hot chocolate, contemplating Loki's evident sweet tooth.

"Do you want a waffle?" he asked, as he set the mug down near Loki (don't hand it, that usually results in a shattered mug and a hot chocolate covered floor as Loki tries to avoid touching him).

Loki looked up, eyes narrowed, and he looked rather adorable, some of his hair sticking up and face almost catlike (if you didn't mind the butterfly white scarring that looks a little like face paint in certain light).

"It's one of the things I make. It's sweet. Cover it in butter and syrup. I think you'd like it," Steve said amiably, as he gets out the things he needed to make his breakfast. He didn't watch Loki, and he wondered a little if this would ruin their usually peaceful morning routine.

Loki picked out his apple and studied it critically, apparently finding flaw in it still but he put the rest away and sipped his hot chocolate and got a knife like Steve hadn't asked him.

"I will try one of these... waffles," Loki allowed regally and Steve grinned though Loki couldn't see it.

XXXXXX

"You just have this shit here? Jesus fuck Tony, you could blow the whole fucking tower up! While I'm sleeping!"

"Calm down. Haven't yet."

XXXXXX

He wasn't sure how he felt about waffles, considering the one that Steve had given him. The syrup was pooling in the little divots, and oil from the butter glistens, but he tried it anyway. It was, surprisingly, good. Sweeter than anything else he'd had except the drink Steve made for him each morning. He didn't remember many sweet foods from growing up.

XXXXXX

"Maybe we should see where Loki is?" Clint asked nervously, shielding his eyes some.

"Nah. We'll know in a second. Jarvis!"

XXXXXX

Steve hopes some that this, too, will become part of their morning routine. When he's not trying to destroy everything, he's a pretty okay guy to eat breakfast with. Just troubled.

Loki has clearly never had anything quite like waffles before, and he eats it with gusto. Steve politely doesn't comment on it as he starts in on his own food. He's pretty sure most of Loki's weight is from the gallons of hot chocolate he drinks each day.

They sit with a bar stool between them, so Steve doesn't accidentally touch Loki and Loki doesn't feel like he's trapped. He notices Loki stiffen a little to his side, and he looks over.

"Loki?" he asks, worried, because Loki has dropped his fork and is staring into some middle distance. His eyes are blue, the same blue that Clint's and Erik's were he realizes with a jolt, and then Loki stands, half-staggers, collapses to the floor, one hand to his head.

Steve gets up, goes to him, touches his shoulder before he even thinks about it. Loki's got both his hands to his head, fingers digging into his scalp, and he doesn't even react to being touched. Kneeling down in front of him, Steve tries to pull Loki's hands away before he hurts himself. Loki's got his eyes closed, and he's making this keening noise, and he won't let go of his hair, and then he does, and Steve falls on his ass because he wasn't expecting it, and Loki throws his head back and he screams.