Author's Note: Thank you to all of my reviewers! I can't believe how quickly people responded. I'm really flattered that people like this enough to put it on watch, let alone fave. I know it may be a little bit slow moving at first, but I'm trying the best I can to keep this fic from just being angst without plot... though Loki is kind of an angsty person, which isn't surprising given what happened to him. Anyway, as always critiques and criticism is welcome and appreciated, as are reviews. Thor and SHIELD get involved next chapter! I know we're taking a while to get to that, but it helps to build things up a little, I think.

Loki's every action was controlled - or as controlled as they could be, given the situation.

That was how he was with other people, anyway. With Zlotan present he felt free to slouch and bury his face in his hands like a normal person. He instantly relaxed when the redhead entered a room, and today was no exception. But that was a reaction he'd trained into himself, a learned behavior reaffirmed through consistancy. There was no doubt Loki was still tense. He was just a more managable degree of it. He had a feeling he hadn't been a very candid person even before this.

Zlotan sunk into his own chair, opening up the notebook on his desk. He had one for each of his patients, and while he'd had Loki as a patient for longer than most of the others, his was a notebook was only half full. He couldn't remember much. He didn't want to. The way he acted, it was clear his memories were painful to him. And if he hadn't displayed such deeply suicidal intentions, if he hadn't been overwhelmingly depressed and detached, Zlotan would have let him ignore his past and move on. But it was clear that the only way to put his life back together was to get him to remember it and deal with it. As painful as it was, it had to be done. It was like surgery or resetting a bone. The problem with that analogy was that in this case, they weren't sure what bone they needed to reset.

All he could remember was his own first name. For a month that and the constant belief he shouldn't be alive was all that he had. Coaxing him out of his shell was a delicate process. He had profound self worth issues that kept him from forming any kind of a friendship with the other patients. The only person who he bonded with was his psychiatrist, who had the necessary patience and stability to keep up with Loki's erratic behavior. And if there was one word for it, that was it - erratic. Chaotic. Inconsistant. Something that was fine one day would set him off the next. He was fortunate to have found someone unshakable and used to this kind of thing.

Loki surprised him by reaching out and touching his shoulder. Their eyes met. The patient frowned. "You've been staring at that for five minutes."

"I'm thinking. It's more or less my job." He smiled briefly, in that disarming way he had. "How're you holding up?"

The dark haired man leaned back in his chair. "I don't really know. I think I'm alright for now. I wish I wasn't couped up in here."

"It's for your own good. You know that. I couldn't take it if something bad happened because I let you go too soon." His gray eyes were sincere. "Every patient a doctor loses is like a knife in their hert. But I've been trying to get you more outside time, for what it's worth. I'm doing all I can."

"I know." He shut his eyes. "You're the only person left who cares. I know that. I don't understand why you bother or why no one ever came for me, but I know your reasons for all this. I just wish it was all over. I want out."

"I'll get you out one day. I promise."

He opened his green eyes and looked at the floor. "Last night, I think I remembered something from before my arrival here. I can't be certain... but I think it was my father I was talking to. Before I jumped. But I'm not sure." He swallowed visibly. "But it doesn't matter, because clearly he doesn't care, since he's not here. He would've come if he cared." His hands were shaking, so he clenched them together. "Since none of my family ever came, they clearly have disavowed me, in mind if not in legality."

His doctor wrote something down, looking thoughtful. Loki studied his heart shaped face and long fingers, familiar features by now. Nurses and guards changed. Zlotan was permanent. He wasn't like the other doctors he'd encountered here; he cared. He was taking copious notes and devoting countless hours to someone. For what? What could Loki ever offer him? He had no wealth, no resources, nothing to give in return for this. There were times - paranoid episodes, Zlotan called it - when he was convinced there was some ulterior motive, something he wanted from him. There had to be more to this than he was seeing. But then inevitably he was proven wrong. There was nothing to be gained from this.

He was useless, in other words. Zlotan would've lectured him on self worth if he'd said it. That didn't mean it wasn't true, only that the redheaded man didn't want to hear it.

Loki knew, the way other people knew the sun would rise and the sky was blue, that he was a terrible person. He couldn't remember why. It didn't matter. The same way no one needed to ask why the sky was blue, he unquestioningly obeyed the feelings inside of him. He knew he was bad. Terrible. He was not a good person. It wouldn't surprise him to learn he'd been a criminal before he ended up here. Why else would he be haunted by such constant guilt, nightmares of being hunted down by people in armor, and the neverending fear people were watching him? Surely he'd been involved in something terrible.

Another he knew was that he was a liar. He knew he was the same way he knew his name or the length of an hour. So predominant was this idea that hat had been the gist of his first three conversations with Zlotan. "I'm not lying," he'd said over and over again. To which Zlotan replied, over and over, unfailingly dedicated and calm, "I know you're not. I believe you, Loki." There was still rarely a day he didn't add a disclaimer to his speech.

And why shouldn't he? He lied to the nurses, on the endless paperwork they'd given him, in order to try to get himself ahead. In order to make himself look better. He wanted to be seen as sane and whole. The problem was that he did nt have perfect self control. Far from it. When he was lucid, he was a good enough liar, but at any moment his control could crumble out from under him like faulty ground and he would be blabbing to anyone who listened. His thoughts poured out without his consent or awareness as he slipped in and out of consciousness. It was in that place inbetween his mind and the real world that he had somehow come to more of an awareness of what had happened, though the full truth eluded him.

The problem was that these nuggets of knowledge slipped away like water cupped in his hands. There was no choice, if he wanted to make progress, but to tell Zlotan everything. His internal war between the part of him that wanted to forget and the part desperate for answers kept him from being honest even now, even with this man. Such was the depths he was drowning in. He was beginning to accept that there was no way out but through this man, through his expert guidance and patience. He thought his guilt meant he was bad; Zlotan said it could mean other things, because the redhead always saw the hidden meanings in everything. Difficult as it was to bring himself to trust someone completely, it had to be done.

He would die otherwise, spiritually and physically.

Zlotan's familiar voice brought him back to the present. "That's not true. We couldn't match your fingerprints or DNA to any records. If we'd called them and they'd refused, you'd be right, but we have no reason to believe they're even aware of what happened. Other than, perhaps, your father - and one family member doesn't indicate a whole group's opinion. Don't jump to any conclusions, Loki. What else do you remember?"

"That's it. At this rate maybe your grandson will cure me." His voice held an audible note of disgust to it. "I don't know why I bothered mentioning it."

He really didn't. Thinking about the past made his skin crawl and his stomach churn. He didn't want to even attempt talking about this. The only way to keep in check the urge to go invisible was to remember that it seemed to terrify everyone in the building. Zlotan was already afraid Loki was going to kill himself. It wasn't right to torment him with inexplicable disappearances. If it got out that he was capable of that, he might be labelled a mutant and locked up somewhere a lot less welcoming and caring than this.

The one consolation to the disgusting revelation that he was a mutant was that most of their criminals were well known. Someone would've come for him before now if he was a terrorist or some major criminal. Whatever he'd done, he could take solace in the fact that he wasn't part of a cult or split off militia. Not that he was going to flaunt himself as an example of mutant goodness to the world any time soon. He hadn't even wanted Zlotan to know.

"Earth to Loki." Zlotan smiled as Loki blinked up at him. "Don't be so negative. This is good. Anything worth doing takes time. Brighten up."

Loki sighed, looking remarkably bored and haughty for a man in his position. "Your optimism is obnoxious."

"It's a gift." He shrugged, scribbling something down. "You'll thank me later." Switching gears, he added, "I can see improvement in your lucidity already. I think we're going to stick to this anti-depressant."

"I don't have depression."

"We're not going through that bullshit argument again. I'm in no mood for that. Besides, an anti-depressant doesn't strictly have to only keep you from being depressed. It can also balance out your extreme moods or act an anti-anxiety medication. Everything has its uses."

"Even me?" Loki asked bitterly, a note of challenge in his voice.

To his credit, the doctor did not hesitate to respond. "Yes."

"Well, then, what is it?" he demanded tiredly.

Zlotan shrugged. "I don't know. I said everything had a purpose, not that all purposes were readily visible. But I know you were found by the right person and transferred to this facility for a reason. I know I was meant to help people. Just because I don't see the reason for something right away doesn't mean I won't later. Or that I need to know why. The important thing is that this happened and now we're dealing with it, one day at a time."

"I do not wish to hear anything else about taking this one day at a day. I want this to be over and done with."

"Believe me, nothing would make me happier than an instant fix for my patients. If that existed, however, we'd be doing it already. My advice to you is to consider the hypnotherapist I suggested and to just take it a day at a time." It took him several tries, but he got Loki to look him in the eyes. "If you weren't capable of recovering, the universe would've let you die."

Loki said nothing. That was his default response these days, his defense against people. What only his psychiatrist realized was that sometimes, it wasn't a defense.

Sometimes, Loki just had nothing left in him to say.