Over the next few days, Loki's physical condition improved gradually, his cuts and abrasions healing, though he didn't regain consciousness. Thor refused to budge from his side, his attention focused on any small sign that Loki was beginning to stir. When he was given bedding, he carefully arranged it around his brother, more concerned with Loki's comfort than his own. He chose to eat, though he did little of that, in the cell along with him, rather than leaving for the breaks that Fury and the others tried to coax him into. He had few words for them, either telling them that he was staying where he was, or simply for them to leave.
When Thor woke on the fourth day of their shared confinement, he tightened his arm around his brother and yawned. His stomach rumbled, but he could wait for food, he would take this time for his exercises, or as much as he could do within the confines of the cell. He wanted to talk to Fury about moving Loki to something bigger; they would both need more space once he was awake as well.
"Good morning, Loki," Thor said as he moved to let go of his brother to get to his feet. In the last day, he'd made a habit of speaking to Loki as he would have were he awake. He didn't know if Loki knew he was there, or if he could hear or understand him, but it was as much for Thor's own sanity as Loki's benefit.
"Once you awaken, we will need to find a way for you to move in here, you do not want to waste away," Thor said as he finished on his feet, looking over at his brother as he got down on the floor to continue. Though Loki's head had slumped forward, his face in shadow, Thor froze as he caught a glimpse of a thin gap between his eyelashes.
Scrambling over, his workout forgotten, Thor lifted Loki's chin, excitement turning to sadness as he looked into his vacant eyes. The colour no longer looked bleached from them, though the life was. Waving his fingers inches from Loki's gaze did nothing, he was as unresponsive as he had been for days. Only now, in Thor's heart, there was less hope for the days ahead.
No longer hungry, or talkative, Thor moved back to his place at Loki's side.
"I think you would like this, brother, it is very sweet..." Thor said, taking a sip of the drink Stark had brought him, looking into the paper bag of food. Stark had called it junk food; Thor assumed that referred to the way it was packaged. "I am not sure about some of these other things, but you would like this."
Since Loki's eyes had opened, he had yet to respond in any way, though Thor had decided it didn't necessarily mean that all hope was lost. Loki had come this far, he could make it farther, and he was stronger than most people gave him credit for. His physical wounds had all healed; his body could be working on the ones below the surface now.
"Do you remember when we were children and you had that terrible fever? You were in bed for ages it seemed, and I was terrified you would never recover. So when you began to get better, you would convince me to sneak down to the kitchens to steal you cake because Mother wouldn't let you have it. You would tell me that it was the only thing that would make you well again, and I believed you..."
Thor trailed off, swallowing past the lump growing in his throat.
"Tell me what you want me to get you, tell me what will make you better, Loki," Thor whispered, looking down at his brother. "I did this to you, I was a part of why you're here now, and I am sorry. This was never my intent, we had to stop you, but to leave you like this was not what I wanted, brother. I love you, I wish you no harm, I only wanted to do what was right. I do not want to see you hurt yourself, or anyone else, I want to see you happy…"
He wanted to continue, but his words were failing him. He wasn't even entirely sure there was a way he could possibly put everything he was feeling into speech, everything felt so inadequate. All he could do was apologize, and that was starting to sound weaker every time he did it. He wished he had Loki's gift with words, he would know what to say in a situation like this, he could take the tangled knot in his head and weave it into the most beautiful sentiment.
But silver-tongued Loki was silent now, and it was his fault.
Since the night Loki had fallen from the Bifrost, Thor's dreams had been plagued by the image of Loki disappearing into the abyss, the horror of losing his brother over and over. Even after finding him alive, the dreams hadn't stopped, perhaps because the Loki that Thor had found since didn't feel like his brother any more. That Loki had perished in the fall, or perhaps he had long before that and Thor had been too blind to realize it.
Jolted from his sleep by his own scream within it, Thor ran a shaking hand over his face, his other reaching over to touch his brother to make sure he was still alive and with him. As he expected, he grabbed Loki's bare knee, ghostly white in the dim light that flooded in from the slit in the door. Though, he was entirely unprepared for that knee to pull itself from his grasp.
"Loki!" Thor sat upright in an instant, on his hands and knees, moving over to his brother to look into the eyes that only earlier had been dead and glassy, now filled with rage and confusion. "Loki, listen to me, do not try to use your magic. They've put something on you; I do not want to see you hurt yourself. Are you in pain? Are you alright?"
Loki didn't answer his brother's frantic questions, the anger in his eyes not dissipating as they focused solely on Thor.
"Brother, I am sorry…I am truly sorry, I did not want to see you like this, I wanted to stop you, but I did not want to do this to you," Thor said softly, desperate for Loki to believe him, though he knew the chances of that were rather low, if not non-existent, at this point. "I am going to stay with you, for as long as you are here. Forever, if that is the case, I am going to look after you."
Though his brother didn't appear to be swayed, Thor refused to back down on his position. This was his penance for the wrongs he'd committed against his younger brother, it was the least he could do in his mind, a small relief from his crushing guilt.
"You do not have to speak to me if you do not wish to, though you would not would you? It has never been an easy task to get you to do that which you do not wish to," Thor rambled, feeling awkward, but preferring it to the angry silence. "When the morning comes, I will have them bring food for you, I can help you with it. You need not feel embarrassed needing my help; I want to give it to you. I would prefer for your hands to be free, but they would not listen when I asked."
Picking up the blanket from where it had slid behind Loki's back, Thor carefully draped it around his shoulders, ignoring Loki's attempts to shrug it off.
"Stop being contrary, brother," Thor scolded lightly, sliding the pillow behind Loki's head and gently pushing him back against it, sighing as Loki leaned forward again. "You help no one, least of all yourself, by being so stubborn. I will do this all night if you want to."
Loki stayed against the pillow when Thor leaned him into it that time, though his expression hadn't changed. He still pulled away when Thor tried to touch his head, though, making quite clear his feelings on that. With a sigh, Thor moved back to his own makeshift bed, not wanting to push Loki if he had no interest in dealing with Thor at the moment. They had a long confinement together for him to continue to apologize to his brother, he hoped at some point Loki would take some of those words as truth.
"This imprisonment, it would go easier if you would at least speak to me…tell me what you want to eat, or a book, perhaps I can talk to Fury and get it for you," Thor offered, wishing Loki would say something, even if only to curse him, or spew hatred at him. "You should try to rest, brother, speak to wake me if you need anything, or I will just see you in the morning."
This silence, and the anger behind it, was something he'd never seen from Loki before, and it disturbed him. A good deal of Loki's strengths lay with his gift of speech, he should be tearing Thor to shreds with his sharp tongue, not letting it remain idle while his eyes spoke for him. He never thought he would long for the days Loki would scoff and call him an oaf.
With difficulty, Thor managed to drift back into a fitful sleep, back to the moment where he last recognized those green eyes.