A/N: Okay, so... the internet has been telling my computer "no" lately. It seems to be working okay at the moment (knock on wood), so I'll just... slip in this little update while I can, kthnx. ;)

Adjusting

It was difficult to rifle through classified documents without opposable thumbs, but Loki managed.

He had been stalking the hallway for this one purpose, waiting for someone to open the office doorway just enough for him to slip inside, unnoticed and unattended. It had been laughably easy, since no one expected a cat to give away their secrets.

For his part, Loki focused on the files dealing with the Avengers, pulling open drawers and batting and tugging aside paper with his paws and teeth. His magic reserve was still too low and too precious to waste on something like this, even if the difficulty of maneuvering in this form was grating on Loki's nerves. The Trickster had never been known for his patience.

Still, he was rewarded for his efforts, even when most of the documents turned out to be encrypted. Loki merely viewed this as a pleasantly stimulating mental puzzle and sat, half on half off the paper, reading and translating for the better part of an hour. The Avengers, it seemed, were currently looking to recruit more members, most prominently a young man named Peter Parker and few of Xavier's former students. Loki read the files on these would-be heroes and filed the information away in the back of his mind.

Then Loki saw a file on himself sticking out of the filing cabinet and crept back towards it, wondering wryly how much or how little these humans really knew about him. His smugness subsided when he remembered that they had Thor as a source.

"Hey! Bad cat!"

The shout and the sharp sound of two hands clapping together startled Loki, and he jumped, tensing to run. When he turned to see Tony stalking towards him from the open doorway, Loki half-feared for a moment that he had been recognized and immediately reached for magic that was not there. Instead the human shot him a half-hearted glare and knelt beside him, sighing as he gathered the papers into their respective folders.

After clearing much of the mess, Tony paused for a long moment to regard Loki. Loki stared back and mewed softly, and Tony's glare softened into that look of grudging affection again. The human sighed and reached out; Loki flinched back, but Tony's hand only lightly stroked down his back and paused to scratch behind his ears.

"How did you even open that drawer, anyway?"

Loki chuckled wickedly but the sound came out as a purr. Tony's smile curled higher at one end.

"You are a strange cat," he said. Then he shooed Loki out of the room and locked the door.

It had been centuries since Loki had gone so long without being able to speak; the last time he had had his lips sewn shut. It was an old memory and an old hurt, but it had seared itself into his brain.

Curled up on the couch, Loki allowed himself to sleep but sleep did not allow him to rest. He dreamed of needles and blood, of a raw, deep-seated humiliation that should have scarred over and stayed in the past. Thor held the needle and stabbed and pulled, but he would not look Loki in the eye. The Thunderer frowned, intent on his task, and the skin around his eyes and between his brows was pinched with something between concern and grief.

Brother, Loki tried to plead, but the strip of leather pulled painfully at his swollen, bleeding lips. Please.

The words were mangled by his mangled lips.

His vision blurred with tears until Thor and the rest of the court were merely blurs of color. He could hear the peals of laughter over the throb of his racing heart.

Stab and pull. He tried to scream, but his lips were bound shut.

Loki startled awake, but his scream came out as a cat's howl. He tried to speak, to curse, to say anything, but all that came out were broken mewls.

What would happen if his magic never returned? Would he be stuck in this body, small and weak and unable to speak? For how long?

Loki wanted to cry and rage, but he was trapped.

He knew he would be unable to sleep for the rest of the night, so Loki jumped down from the couch and padded through the dark, silent halls. If he was miserable, he would damn well make sure that his human "keeper" was miserable too.

Loki pushed his way into Tony's room. Perhaps he could wake the human by digging his claws into his feet. Yes, that would make him feel better.

But Tony Stark foiled his dastardly plans by already being awake. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, the pale glow of the arc reactor making his face look sickly pale. His gaze was unblinking but unfocused, and Loki glanced over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. On the opposite wall hung a mirror, and Tony stared back at it, his dark eyes glazed and haunted. He fingered the arc reactor glowing in the middle of his chest, and there was something painfully lost in his expression.

Loki knew because he had seen that same expression in the mirror many times before.

I do not understand you, human, Loki told himself. Except the real problem was that maybe he did.

It seemed that Tony Stark was already miserable.

Loki jumped onto the bed and sat beside the human, turning to watch him expectantly. Tony blinked and looked down at the cat next to him, the spell broken and his eyes clear and focused again.

"Hey, little guy," he murmured. His smile did not reach his eyes.

Tony patted Loki's head, and the Trickster flinched away, instinctively expecting an attack. Again he was amazed at the gentleness in the human's touch.

"It's all right," Tony murmured, and Loki realized that he was as tense as a bowstring. He forced himself to relax as much as he could. Tony was staring at him then with an intensity that made Loki fidget. "You always flinch when I pet you. Someone hurt you bad, huh, little guy?"

Loki looked up at Tony, who seemed to look right through him in that moment. For once, he was grateful he was in cat form since he did not know what to say to that.

"No one's gonna hurt you again, I promise."

Loki told himself that the human was a fool for making assumptions and talking to a cat. He pointedly ignored the lump lodged in his throat.

Would you be so kind to me if you knew who I was, Tony Stark?

Tony curled up on the edge of his bed and pulled Loki with him, holding him just shy of too tightly with one hand and petting him with the other. Loki tried to wriggle free for a moment, panicking at the closeness, but Tony held him in place. Slowly, Loki forced himself to relax. After so long of viewing this particular human as an enemy, it was difficult, but the hand soothing down his spine helped. Loki could feel the pulse of the arc reactor against his flank, could smell the mix of sweat and engine oil that clung to Tony's skin.

Tony drifted off to sleep with one hand buried in Loki's fur. The lines of his face smoothed over, and he looked peaceful, almost innocent, as he slumbered. Loki studied him as he slept.

It reminded him of when he was child, when he and Thor would sometimes sneak into each other's room in the middle of the night. Thor was always restless, and Loki would tell him stories to pass the time, watching as his brother's eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Loki would lie next to him and watch over him until sleep claimed him too.

Loki tried to remember when he had last been this physically close to another being – without trying to kill them, anyway – and drew a blank. Something ached in his chest, and Loki forced these thoughts into the back of his mind, where they could not hurt him as easily.

Trapped beneath Tony's arm, Loki rested his chin on his paws and closed his eyes. The human's surrounding weight and warmth was solid and comforting, and when Loki drifted back to sleep, he had no more nightmares.