Thor, Loki's foggy brain registered the sound of his brother's voice as if it were coming from some place far away. Thor was here. Not in England. Not with Jane. Here.

Then there was touch – a foreign thing, considering that no one had stepped foot inside his cell in what he was sure had to by now be years. Strong, warm arms wrapped around him, cradling, and then carrying. Away. Out of his cell.

There was Sif's voice and Thor yelling and then what he thought was travel – whether by the Bifrost or a secret tunnel, he couldn't tell, didn't care. He was out of his cell and away from Asgard and the dregs of life that hadn't known remained in him was growing.

Wherever they went, it was cold against his exposed skin, but the strength it took to open his eyes, investigate, wasn't worth it. Thor was with him; he was safe.

There was noise, so much noise – people shouting, strangers, a lot, too many. Then metal against Loki's skin as Thor set him down and steps fading away as Thor, exchanging sharp words with Coulson, left Loki alone in a room full of people – staring, poking, gaping.

No! Thor!

It took every ounce of strength that Loki had to sit up, lean against the wall so that he could keep track of every person in the room, and curl into himself. People were coming, going… and then most of them were gone. Two women remained behind: one in black hovering warily at the door – were they afraid of him? Didn't they realize how defenseless he was, how at their mercy… how the tables had turned? – and the other was slowly easing her way towards him, hands outstretched peaceably.

Still Loki flinched away from the very idea of touch as all the new stimulation filtered through his brain, making his mind feel hyperactive and on edge after years of nothingness.

"You're going to be alright; I'm going to help you." The brunette said in a calming tone, but those words set his mind on fire with an adrenaline rush.

Because he knew those words! This woman was his soulmate!

He came frantically to life, pitifully trying to open his mouth, to speak, to tell her! Something, anything! Yet he could manage nothing. Even if the stitches in his lips were cut, he would still be unable to speak ever again, thanks to Odin's awful curse on him – the man he'd once called "Father" had taken his magic and his very voice for the rest of eternity, and he couldn't even explain this to his own soulmate!

A scream pressed up from the very depths of his soul, but he was unable to release it, the trapped force of it making him shake like a man possessed.

Terrified - Norns, he hadn't meant to scare her! – his soulmate screamed for Thor.

Thor and Coulson both all but ricocheted into the room as Jemma cried, "He's having a panic attack! I don't know what happened!"

"Loki!" Thor siad loudly, grabbing his brother's shoulders.

Loki twisted wildly away from him, trying to breathe while simultaneously… keeping his eyes on her?

"Loki," Thor demanded again. "What? You must calm down, brother! You're safe; these people can and will help you, but you must let them."

"Was it touch?" Coulson asked Jemma. "Did you touch him?"

"No, I didn't even get to that point!" Jemma said helplessly. "I told him I was going to help him, and he just… did this."

Behind them, Thor froze turning slowly to look at Jemma as he asked, eerily calm, "What were your exact words to him?"

Loki started to breathe through his nose, nodding frantically as he began to make himself calm down.

Jemma paused, shaking her head as she realized that she'd already forgotten in the ensuing panic.

Recognizing the issue, Loki slapped Thor's bicep, getting the blond god to turn back towards him as he pointed firmly to his hip. Through one of the dozens of holes in the fabric, Jemma could make out the black scrawl of what must have been part of his soulmark words.

Wait. What?! Did he think…?

Thor turned back to her, asking carefully, "Did you say, 'you're going to be alright; I'm going to help you'?"

"That sounds about right," Jemma murmured hesitantly.

The sound of ripping cloth permeated the room as Loki made the hole in his shift big enough to reveal his entire soulmark and motioned her towards him, his eyes pleading with her. She stepped forward hesitantly and stared trembling at the black words against his too-pale skin. The first words that she'd said to him in her cramped, doctor's handwriting.

"No," she said shakily, looking between the two gods and Loki's soulmark as she explained, "That can't be right; I don't even have any words at all."

Loki reached hesitantly for her hand – the thought broke through her muddled brain that now he was the one treating her like a wounded animal – as his other hand rested lightly against his bound lips by way of explanation.

Things had been happening so quickly that Jemma only now noticed the stitches, involuntarily shuddering and tightening her grip on his hand in pity.

"The All-Father has made it so that he shall never speak again," Thor revealed in a low voice.

"Surely we can just cut the stitches away…"

"Then a curse will keep it so that he still cannot utter a sound."

Tears gathered in Jemma's eyes at the impossibility of the situation. Despite herself, a small part of her mind wished, registered how close she was coming to what she'd always wanted while still being so far away from it. "How will I know if you're my soulmate then?"

Loki's breathing started to speed up again – wanting to communicate so badly, yet unable to – until May, practically forgotten at the edges of the room, thought of the obvious and shoved a notepad and pen into his lap.

He scrawled hurriedly, eyes begging Jemma along with the words on the paper as she read what he wrote.

You'll have to trust me. Give me a chance. Please.

Jemma looked up from the page, meeting Loki's blue puppy-dog eyes hesitantly. He winced, tears starting to shimmer in his own eyes as he slapped the notebook back down onto his lap and wrote something more.

You can walk away if you must. But please, I beg of you, give me a chance. No, I cannot tell you for certain, but what if…?

"Give me a chance." "What if?" The thought processes that had guided Jemma's interactions with people her entire life. How could she drop them now, of all times? Because he was right. What if?

"Okay," she whispered breathily – and then turned away, forcing herself to fulfill some of her original purpose in coming to this room as she retrieved a pair of sewing scissors from her first aid kit. She turned back to Loki, asking, "Do you trust me to do this?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes switching nervously between the scissors and her gaze. So she took a deep breath and gently cupped his chin, not noticing as Thor, Coulson, and May slipped into the next room as she made quick work of her gruesome task. It surprised her, how unnervingly intimate doing this felt. She and Loki were breathing one another's air, her eyes focused on her task while his were focused on her.

When the threads were gone, Jemma gently brushed away the pinpricks of blood around his mouth before meeting his eyes, unable to look away from the fascinating blue orbs two inches away from her own face. Loki cocked his head to the side, moving achingly slow as he brought a hand up to cradle the base of her skull, fingers tangling in her hair as he lowered his mouth onto hers.

And it suddenly didn't matter if he could never speak to her, because in that moment, with that kiss, she knew that she had a soulmate and that man was Loki, mute though he may be.

When he broke the kiss off, taking a shallow breath as his gaze skittered to her face, she could see the moment when the adrenaline that had been keeping him upright began to wane. He swayed with exhaustion and Jemma was reminded again how frail he was.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and eased him onto his back, kissing him gently as she promised again, "You're going to be alright; I'm going to help you…and love you forever."

Well, there you have it! Hopefully you all liked this!