"You could have told me you'd moved on from time travel so I didn't spend all night figuring it out."

Loki's heard the same four voices over and over, and he's done his best to make some sense of it. He's learned that one of their names is Banner and one is Rogers, and he thinks he's been able to piece together which voice belongs to which. Then, of course, there's his savior, the man who found him, and, last but certainly not least, there's her. She's his favorite. Even before she sat by his side and refused to move, she was his favorite. There's just something about her...

But this voice is new. It doesn't belong to any of the four people he's starting to get to know. That's a little weird. He didn't realize there was anybody else here.

She – the woman, whoever she is – sighs. "We can deal with that later. The universe isn't going anywhere. He is."

The man scoffs. "I'm sorry, I just solved time travel, and I don't get any 'ooh's and 'ah's or 'hey, thanks for going against your principles and helping us's?"

There's a pause.

"You really figured it out?"

"I sure did," he says. "But I hear we're too busy playing doctor to do anything with it."

"Banner told you?" she guesses.

"Mm-hmm," he hums. "I was so sure Scott was gonna come back as a baby. Him coming back with a baby? Not quite what I was expecting."

She huffs. "If this is what parenthood is like, maybe it's not so bad that I'll never have kids."

She puts a hand on his forehead, and her touch warms him from the inside. There's just something about her. He doesn't know what it is, but he loves it. He loves her, in a weird way. He doesn't know who she is, but she's special to him. He's known from her first touch that she was special.

"Banner said he's awake," the man says.

"He was earlier," she tells him. "I don't know if he still is."

There's a quiet swishing noise that he's become very familiar with since he was brought here. It's a nice swishing noise. He doesn't have much experience with nice familiar sounds like this.

"Loki, open your mouth, she says.

He does as he's told.

"See?" she says. "He's awake. He just can't..."

"Be a person," he substitutes.

"Pretty much."

Then there's a toothbrush in his mouth, brushing gently against his teeth and his gums, and he savors every moment of it. She hasn't been doing this as much as she was when Banner – he thinks it was Banner – first suggested it, but he wishes she wouldn't stop. It's what he needs right now. More than this bed, more than these blankets, more than anything, he needs this.

"I'm sorry, you're brushing his teeth?" the man asks incredulously. "The dude's got half an ounce of fat and muscle combined, and your first priority is to brush his teeth?"

"It's not about his teeth," she tells him. "It's the water on the brush. Apparently it'd be dangerous to let him drink, so..." She taps the toothbrush against Loki's tooth, and a drop of water falls off onto his tongue. "Baby steps."

"These are not baby steps," he says. "There are infant steps. There are fetus steps."

"Yeah, well, it's all we've got right now," she says. "Banner's still looking into our first actual step, but until then, we're toothbrushing it."

"That is ridiculous," he says. "You're ridiculous."

"Take it up with Banner," she says. "I'm just doing what I'm told."

"You're both ridiculous," he says. "You're all ridiculous. I can't believe you're trying to save Loki's life with a toothbrush." He sighs. "I can't believe I'm going to help you try to save Loki's life with a toothbrush."

He must walk away after that, because Loki can hear his footsteps getting further and further away until they disappear.

That was a quick conversation. They usually stretch on much longer than that – long enough that he loses focus and his mind goes blank, most times. This was kind of nice. It was short and sweet; a brief introduction of a new voice into his mental library of helping hands.

She takes the toothbrush from his mouth and puts it down somewhere – a table, probably; wherever it is she's keeping everything. She gently cups his face in her hand, rubbing her thumb against her cheek. "How you doing, buddy? Any better?"

Loki doesn't know how to answer. Even if he could communicate, he wouldn't know what message to send. He feels better, yes, but not because he's doing better. Just having her here makes him feel better.

"I'm gonna try to wash your face again," she tells him. "Maybe we can get the..." She taps his head once, twice. "The grime off that scar."

She gets up, and Loki is left where he is, alone in bed while she goes off to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what. He feels wrong when she's gone. He feels like he's missing a part of him. He just feels deep down that she's not supposed to leave him like this.

But then she comes back, and she claims her spot right next to her bed like she never left. "Alright, let's try this again."

A warm, damp rag presses against his forehead, and he feels himself melt at the relief it brings. She gently closes it around his face, across the forehead and down the cheek and all the way around back to his temple.

She takes the rag back, then presses it against his eye. "I don't know if you can wash these gross, crusty eye boogers off, but we're gonna try it."

She's gentle as she lets the rag soak in his eye. He's not sure if she's making any progress, but it feels nice. It's relaxing, like a day at the spa, pampered like...

A prince.

He used to be a prince.

He's not anymore, of course. He's not anything, or anyone. But, once upon a time, he used to be a prince.

That was a nice time.

She begins slowly and carefully rubbing the washcloth bag and forth and back and forth against his eyelids. "If I'm hurting you, just..." She thinks. "I don't know; just wiggle your fingers and I'll stop."

Loki makes a point to keep his fingers still. She's not hurting him. Quite the opposite, really. This is wonderful. It's a little weird, he'll admit, but it's wonderful nonetheless.

Eventually, she has to pull the washcloth away. "Does that feel any better at all?"

Loki wiggles his fingers. He's not sure if that means yes or no, but he's not so much trying to answer her as he is trying to acknowledge her. She didn't have to do this, but she did. That means a lot to him.

"I'm gonna guess you still can't open your eye, though."

He doesn't think he can, either. But she sounds like she wants him to. She wants to see him open his eye. And, for some reason he can't explain, that makes him want to do it. More than his desire to see again, he wants to please her.

So he summons all his might, and he forces his eye open just a crack.

"Oh, wow, I was not expecting that to work."

Neither was he, though he may have been correct. He's not convinced it did work. He still can't see. The world is bright and blurry and hurts to look at and he doesn't like this at all.

But he got it open. She wanted it open, and he opened it. That's what matters.

She leans over, sticking her face in front of his, and he can kind of make out the little wave she gives him, though he can't really make her out. He can't see her. He can vaguely make out the red hair — and is it white, too? Red and white hair? — but her, he can't see.

"You look like shit," she tells him. "Okay, close your eyes. I'm gonna get the other one."

Loki does as he's told, and the rag makes its way to his other eye. She cleans this one the same she did the other. The warmth of the rag seeps into his eye, and she gently rubs it back and forth, clearing away the crust in his eyes. It feels weird, but in a nice way. He likes the warmth more than he cares about being clean.

He's a bit disappointed when she takes the rag away. She pats his eyes dry, then tries to wipe them with the dry one, which is definitely not as comfortable as the warm, wet cloth, but he's sure it's doing something. She wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't helping.

"Alright, there we go," she says, taking the rag back. "Can you open your eyes?"

Opening his eyes feels easier now that he's done it once before; now that he knows he can do it. He can't open them very wide, but he can open them a little bit, just enough to blind himself with the light once more.

"There we go," she says. "I knew there was someone in there." She pats him on the head. "I'm gonna call Steve. Try not to fall asleep before he gets here? I want him to see."

She moves out of view, and Loki closes his eyes again. He won't fall asleep. She wants him awake, so he's going to stay away. But he can't keep his eyes open while he waits. It's too hard, too bright. He needs to let his eyes rest.

It's quiet for a few moments, and then, out of nowhere, she says, "Hey, I got him to open his eyes."

Loki's confused. He's pretty sure there's no one else in the room. Where is this Steve person? Not here, surely. He would have heard the footsteps. So where...?

"Yeah, you want to come up?" she asks. "You can fill me in on what Banner's been up to." There's a pause. "Cool. See you in a minute."

To say that Loki's confused would be an understatement, but he doesn't question it. He can't question it. He couldn't even if he wanted to. But he doesn't want to. He doesn't care enough to question it. He's just relieved that she's not leaving him to talk to this Steve person.

"Alright, let's try this," she says quietly. She puts one hand on her head as if holding him still, and then the rag is on his head, gently but firmly rubbing against his head. "I might need some soap..."

She works on cleaning him up, and though he's not sure, he thinks it's where his bandage used to be. What happened there, again? Why did he have a bandage? He fell, he thinks. He fell and he hit his head. That sounds familiar. And now she's cleaning the wound. But is there a wound? Because it's been so long...

He's confused. This whole thing is confusing. He doesn't understand what's happening, but he doesn't have to. It's kind of nice. That's what matters. He's comfortable like this. He doesn't want it to stop.

"Having fun yet?" It's Rogers's voice, if he's identifying it correctly. That's strange. He didn't realize Rogers was coming. Didn't she say she was calling someone named Steve?

"Oh, loads," she says sarcastically. She pats his head dry. "C'mere, look at this." She pats Loki on the cheek a few times. "Hey, Loki. Open your eyes."

Loki forces his eyes open again. The world is still too bright, still too blurry, but he feels like he can get used to it. It may take a while, but he'll get used to it. He just has to do this in small doses.

"Oh, wow," Rogers says.

"He's doing better already," she says.

He's not sure he's really doing better, but he'll take her word for it.

"Can he talk at all?" Rogers asks.

"I don't think so," she says. "Loki? Can you say something?"

Loki opens his mouth, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't make a sound.

"Guess not," she says.

Somebody's face comes into view. It's probably Rogers, he reasons. There's no red in his blurred vision, so it can't be her. He'd see her hair if it was her.

"He looks really out-of-it," Rogers remarks.

He feels really out of it, too. The world didn't feel so weird until he opened his eyes, but now it just feels off. Something about it is off. It's not, he's sure, but it feels really weird. He feels really weird.

"Good," she says. "I can't imagine being fully conscious and this messed up."

"Yeah..."

She gently brushes her thumb against his cheek. "You don't have to keep your eyes open. You can go to sleep. I'll wake you up if we need you."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He closes his eyes, and a wave of sluggishness washes over him. It won't take long before he falls asleep; he's sure of it.

~~~

He wakes up to a hand on his forehead.

A very big hand.

It's not her hand, so he doesn't think too much of it. He doesn't mind anyone else's touch. He's been touched enough over the years that any gentle hand is a welcome one. But if it's not her, it's not the same. It's not as warm, as magical. He wants to feel her touch again. He hopes it won't be too long.

"He's freezing," a familiar voice mutters – Banner, if he remembers correctly. He's getting better at sorting these names out. "Do we have another blanket?"

"What, the six of 'em isn't enough?" another voice – the new one, the time-travel one – asks sarcastically. "Smothering him in blankets isn't going to warm up his face."

Loki would actually like another blanket, now that he thinks of it. He's not cold, really, but he likes the weight of them holding him down against the mattress. Still, the time-travel man might be right. He doesn't want to melt.

"Yeah..." Banner seems to be in rather reluctant agreement. "Maybe we should take one or two off. I don't want him sweating when he's this dehydrated."

So off comes a blanket – or maybe it's two; he can't quite tell – and that comforting pressure begins to disappear. He wishes he could ask for it back. He wishes he could talk at all. He wonders if he'll ever be able to talk again. Only time will tell, he's sure.

"How much do you think we can give him?" It's another man who asks this, and it takes Loki a moment to place him as the one who rescued him. He hasn't heard much of that voice since he arrived. It's nice to have him back.

"A few sips, maybe," Banner says. "I don't know, he might not even be able to swallow it. We might have to go back to the toothbrush."

He would like to go back to the toothbrush, actually. He doesn't know what they're planning to do, but he'd like them to not do it so he can have his toothbrush back. It's nice and refreshing and hydrating and there's nothing he'd want more than that.

"Should we wake him up?" Rogers asks.

"I don't know," Banner admits. "I mean, probably, but..." He sighs. "I don't know, is sleep good for him? I mean, I know it's good when you're sick, but when you're half-dead..."

"I'm gonna wake him up."

It's her.

She's here.

Loki forces his eyes open just a little bit, just enough that he can make out the green of the blanket on his lap – which makes him think they were right to take the other one – ones? – off. He likes green. He doesn't mind the green blanket on top.

"Well," she says. "That was easy."

Somebody crouches down by the side of the bed, and Loki looks over at him. He's very... green. He's a green person. That's all Loki can make out right now; his sight hasn't quite cleared up yet. Maybe his sight is getting worse. Maybe that's why everything looks green.

"Hey, Loki," the green man says. This must be Banner, then, if his voice is any indication. Banner is the green man. "We're gonna sit you up and see if you can have something to drink. It's an Ensure – kinda like a chocolate frappe, but it's got a bunch of protein and nutrients and things. That sound okay?"

Loki doesn't know what a chocolate frappe is – nor does he know what chocolate is, or a frappe – but if it's something he can drink, he's more than happy to try it. He just needs something to soothe his painfully dry throat. The toothbrush has been nice, but a real drink would be wonderful.

"Steve, you wanna...?"

"I got it."

A pair of arms wrap around his upper body, and he's hoisted upright into a sitting position. The bed dips as somebody sits down behind him, using their body to prop his own up. His head lolls back, and a hand supports it from behind.

Something touches his lips, and they part slightly, waiting for the liquid. It takes a few seconds – a few very long seconds – but finally, he can feel the drink against his lips. It's a thick drink, which is a little weird, but as it fills his mouth, he decides he wouldn't have it any other way. It's just so... nice. It tastes nice, more flavorful than anything he's eaten on Midgard, and, more importantly, it's moist.

The cup leaves his mouth, and he closes his lips, swooshing the drink around. It feels weird on his teeth – and not necessarily in a nice way – but he doesn't care. He has a drink. His mouth is wet because he's drinking. It's a luxury he never thought he'd have again.

"Can you swallow it?" Banner asks.

Loki closes his eyes and forces himself to swallow. It hurts. He wasn't expecting that. He thought it would feel nice, but it hurts.

He kind of wants more, though.

"Was that all of it?" Banner asks. "Open your mouth."

Loki opens his mouth. He's pretty sure that was all of it. Although he still feels like there's some on his teeth. What can he do to change that? Will his tongue get it off? He'll have to test it.

"There we go," Banner says, which Loki assumes means he can close his mouth now. "Okay, one more sip."

The cup touches his lips again, and Loki lets it fill his mouth once more. When the cup's taken away, he swallows it. It hurts a little less the second time. That's promising. Maybe the pain will go away eventually. He'd like that. He opens his eyes again. That was nice. He looks forward to doing it again someday. Maybe they'll let him drink again tomorrow if they're feeling generous.

"Does that feel any better?" Banner asks.

Loki doesn't know how to answer, so he taps his fingers against the bed. It does feel better. It feels much better.

"Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?" Banner asks.

"How are you expecting him to answer that?" she asks, and there's a nice level of sass in her voice that makes him unreasonably happy. She's sweet, she's caring, she's helpful, and she's sassy. He couldn't ask for anything more.

"Oh, here, I got it," his savior says. He crosses the room – or Loki assumes that blur is him – and takes Loki's hand in his. "Squeeze once for yes and twice for no. Does that feel any better?"

Loki squeezes his hand once.

"He says it does," his savior says. There's a pause, and then he adds, "Oh, and I'm Scott, by the way. We haven't met – or, I mean, we met today, but before that, we hadn't met."

Loki lifts his other hand in a small wave. Scott. That's good to know. He'd like to know everyone else's names, too. Whose does he not know? Time travel man's; he doesn't know his name. Is there anyone else...?

Oh.

Right.

Her.

She must have a name. He wonders what it is. That's probably the name he wants to know most of all. Who is she? What's her name? What's her story? And why does he feel so connected to her?

"Are you cold?" Tony asks.

Loki squeezes Scott's hand twice. He's not cold. He doesn't think he is, at least. He doesn't feel cold.

"He said no," Scott translates.

"Are you hot?" Banner asks.

Again, Loki squeezes twice. He doesn't feel hot, either. He feels okay – or as okay as he can.

"He said no again, " Scott says.

"I wanna ask if he needs anything," time travel man says, "but that's a pretty shitty yes-or-no question."

"It'd be a hell of a guessing game," she says.

"You think he could write?" time travel man asks.

"Loki, do you think you can write?" Scott asks.

Loki squeezes his hand twice. Definitely not. He doesn't have that kind of control over his hands. He can't ever see–

Actually, he's seeing a little better than he was a few minutes ago. The world is starting to become a little more clear. He squints his eyes, trying to make some sense of the colors.

"What's the face for?" time travel man asks.

"Can you see?" Banner asks.

Loki doesn't know how to answer that. Technically, yes, he can see. He can vaguely make out what's in front of him. But he can't understand it. He can't see details.

There's a pause, and Scott says, "He's not squeezing."

"Here, let's try this," time travel man says. He lowers himself in front of the bed, and Loki tries to make out what his face looks like. He doesn't succeed. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Loki can't even tell that he is holding up fingers, never mind how many. How is he supposed to communicate that? Squeeze eleven times because he (probably?) doesn't have eleven fingers?

"He's still not answering," Scott says.

Time travel man sighs. "You still with us, Loki?"

Loki squeezes once. He's still here. He's still listening. He's just... not sure how to communicate back.

"He is," Scott says.

"His eyes are probably really dry," Banner says. "Do you have eye drops somewhere? Just normal saline eye drops?"

"I haven't been here in years," time travel man reminds him. "Anything I might have is old and expired and gross."

"If you think it'll help, " Rogers offers, "I can run to the store and grab some."

"That's probably a good idea," Banner says. "We'll let him sleep and come back and see if we're getting somewhere."

"Does that sound good, Loki?" Scott asks.

Loki squeezes his hand once. He could go for a nap. He likes naps.

Rogers moves out from behind him and gently lies him back in bed, and he covers him up with the blankets. Scott tucks his hand beneath the blankets and lets go.

Now that all Loki can do is stare at the ceiling – a rather boring place to stare – he closes his eyes. He'll take a little nap and hope he'll see better when he wakes up.

~~~

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Loki squints his eyes. The eye drops have definitely helped, but the world isn't clear yet. He still really has to focus to make some sense of it.

He thinks he sees three fingers – and a fairly attractive man behind them, though he doesn't want to truly deem him attractive until he can see him fully. He squeezes Scott's hand three times, one for each finger that might be up.

"He got it," Scott says.

"There we go," Banner says. "We're making progress."

Loki raises his head off the pillow just a little bit, but he finds himself quivering and shaking and he has to rest it back down. He tries to look around without moving his head too much, but he can't really see anything while he's lying down. He'd like to see who's been helping him, but maybe that's something to worry about later.

"Do you want to try having more to drink?" Banner asks.

Loki squeezes Scott's hand, much quicker than he has before. Yes, he wants more to drink. There's very little in this world that he wants more than to have something to drink.

On Banner's urging, Rogers helps him sit up, plopping himself down behind him to hold him upright. Now Loki has a better view of the people helping him.

Banner takes him by surprise. His voice gives off the feeling of an itty bitty little man, but he's actually quite large – and quite green, which is another story entirely. He's certainly not what Loki had pictured.

The other people in the room look much more normal. Scott is still crouched next to him and holding his hand, and from what Loki can make out, he seems like an attractive man. Time travel man is at the end of the bed, and he still seems like an attractive man, too. He hasn't seen Rogers, but he assumes he's also an attractive man, because that seems to be the theme among the non-green people in the room.

And then he sees her.

And he can't believe it.

"Master." He can't get the word out, but he doesn't even care. He can't believe it. He never thought he'd see her again. It's been so long. This is amazing. He never would have even dreamed of this.

"We really have to figure out how to communicate," Banner says. "'Yes or no' is only getting us so far."

Loki can't take his eyes off of the Widow. She's... well, she's her. She's here. She came back for him. After all this time, she came back for him.

Time travel man perks up. "I have an idea," he says. "I need paper. Who has paper?"

Nobody jumps up with a piece of paper to use.

"Okay, let me try this," he says.

Loki doesn't know what he's doing. He doesn't care. He just can't stop staring. It's his Master. His Master is here. He really can't believe it.

Time travel man puts something in Loki's lap. "Can you read this?"

Loki looks down at it. It's... letters. It's a cell phone, and there are letters on it. That's all it is: letters. It's not even words.

He squeezes Scott's hand once. He can read it. He doesn't know what it means, but he can read it.

"He says yes," Scott says.

"Perfect," time travel man says, grabbing his phone from Loki's lap. "I'll be right back." He heads out the door, and the last thing Loki can hear is the very strange, nonsensical question, "Hey, FRIDAY, where's my old Atari?"

Loki turns his gaze back to Natasha. He can't believe she's here. He really, really can't believe it. He's not sure he does believe it. Is this a dream? A hallucination? It has to be. Doesn't it?

Natasha glances at her friends uncomfortably. "Why is he staring at me?"

Because you're my Master. Isn't it obvious? He's been reunited with his Master. How could he look away?

Banner waves the question off and sits down on the edge of the bed, a plastic cup in his hand. The liquid in it is brown. That looks disgusting. Is this what he was drinking earlier? It doesn't look at all like it tastes.

Banner brings it to his lips, and Loki closes his eyes and lets the liquid fill his mouth. It's just as delicious as it was the first time – even if it looks rather off-putting. He's able to take three sips before Banner takes the cup away. He's not all too disappointed by that. Banner already lets him drink far more than Pierce did. He can't ask for anything more.

With the drink gone, he turns his attention back to Natasha. He really, really can't believe this. It's just... it feels too good to be true. He's still not sure he believes it is true. But if this is a product of his imagination, then he's going to enjoy it while he can. Everything he dreams up – Thor, Heimdall, his parents – disappears eventually. It doesn't mean it's not nice to see them again before they do.

Natasha takes a step to the side, and Loki's gaze follows her. She takes a step back, and Loki watches. She steps back to the other side, and he doesn't take his eyes off her.

"I don't get it," she says. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

Because you're my Master, he wants to say. I've missed you.

"I wonder if it's the hair," Rogers says. "It's not quite the same style you had ten years ago."

Natasha scoffs. "Banner's a fully functioning green man, and you think he's staring because I grew my hair out?"

Rogers sucks in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, maybe not."

Natasha shakes her head to herself. "I'm going to go somewhere that isn't here. Let me know if anything exciting happens."

"Stark sounds like he's up to something," Rogers says. "Maybe just wait in the hallway until he comes back?"

"Yeah, that works." She heads out of the room, and Loki watches her go.

He looks at the doorway for a minute or so after she's left, but she really doesn't seem to be coming back, so he looks around at his new helpers instead. He really is lucky to know them. They're helping him. They're going to save him. He doesn't know what he did to deserve it, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

"Should I put him down?" Rogers asks. "Is sitting up good or bad?"

Banner scoffs. "I don't know," he says. "I'm making this up as I go."

"What if we move him back and he can use the headboard instead of Captain America himself as a leaning post?" Scott asks.

Loki's eyes widen. Captain America? He knows Captain America. He knew him, at least. They fought each other, in New York. They're not friends. They're not even allies. What is he...?

Although he supposes it makes sense. Captain America and the Black Widow were friends. They were partners. Of course they would be together.

... It does make him wonder who these other people are, though. Are they also soldiers? Do they work for SHIELD? He's confused – but then, a lot has happened since the last time he saw the Widow and Captain America. He shouldn't be surprised that their team has grown since then.

Banner gives him a weird look, but Loki obviously can't explain his shock, so he moves on. "Yeah, let's just... prop him up on a pillow. He's too skinny to just put him there."

It takes a bit of teamwork, but they manage to get him against the headboard. It's not quite as comfortable as Captain America, but he doesn't mind too much. He's certainly had worse.

Rogers comes around in front of him, and for the first time, Loki can really see him. He doesn't look quite like the Captain America that Loki remembers. His hair looks a little darker. He has a beard. He's not wearing a star-spangled suit. But it could be him. He wouldn't recognize him, but he believes it.

Time travel man comes back into the room, holding a very interesting contraption in his arms. Loki watches him warily as he approaches. He hardly even cares that Natasha follows him in; he's more worried about what time travel man is going to do to him.

Time travel man puts some sort of large cell phone – a tablet, he believes they're called? He's not very familiar with Midgardian technology – in his lap, and next to it, attached by many, many wires, is some sort of stick on a box with a button in the corner.

He is so confused.

"FRIDAY," he says, "connect my tablet to the TV."

Loki looks down at the tablet, and it's only then that he sees all the letters on it – a keyboard, it seems. He raises his gaze to the TV across the room, and the same thing is displayed there, in much larger letters.

"We're gonna play a game," time travel man says. "Since you can't talk, we're basically going to ouija-board this shit, but with an Atari controller. You're gonna use the joystick to switch between letters, press the button to select, and press and hold to delete, and keep it short and sweet because this is going to take a long-ass time."

Loki blinks a few times.

That's... interesting.

He moves the joystick to the right, and the highlighted letter changes. Q, W, E...

He finally settled on the one he wants.

T

And now down, and then over...

H

And now all the way to the left...

A

And now down and almost all the way to the right...

N

"Yeah, no problem," time travel man deadpans. "Is there anything of any substance you actually want to say right now?"

Loki clears the message, and then he thinks for a few moments. What does he want to say? He wants to say a lot, really. But where does he want to start? Especially with such a slow method of communication. What should he say first?

Well, probably this, actually.

N

And now one level up and all the way to the left...

A

And now one level down and all the way to the right...

M

And to the top on the left...

E

And just down and over one...

S

He looks up at time travel man expectantly.

Time travel man furrows his brows. "Names?"

Loki just looks at him.

"What names?" he asks.

Loki clears the message and starts again.

Up and to the middle...

Y

And now a few to the right...

O

And now a couple to the left...

U

And some more to the left...

R

And now down and a little but more to the left...

S

He looks back up at time travel man. Your names. That's clear, right? He wishes there was punctuation. A question mark might help.

"Our names?" time travel man says incredulously.

Loki just looks at him. Yes, their names. He wants to know their names. Is that wrong of him? It doesn't feel wrong. It feels like the polite thing to do.

"What about our names?" he asks, no less confused than he was before. "You know our names."

Loki furrows his brows. Back to the keyboard.

Top right...

I

And lower left...

D

And upper right...

O

And lower right...

N

And upper middle...

T

And again...

T

And down and to the right...

H

And up and to the right...

I

And down...

N

And up and to the right...

K

"Loki, it's us," time travel man says. "It's the Avengers. It's me and Rogers and Banner and Romanoff."

"And Lang," Scott adds.

Time travel man rolls his eyes.

Loki just looks at him, confused. Is he supposed to know him? He doesn't look familiar. But then maybe he's changed much the same way Natasha has, the way Rogers has. Maybe he is someone Loki knows. Maybe he's...

Actually, he's fairly certain there's only one white male Avenger. He has no idea who this could be.

"I really don't think he knows," Banner says with a frown. For a moment, Loki feels bad, but then he looks closer and realizes that Banner's not sad, he's... sympathetic. He looks sympathetic. That doesn't make sense.

"You're kidding," time travel man deadpans.

"You know me, though," Natasha says, a question of a sort.

Loki looks at her, and he can feel the faint hint of a smile on his lips. He didn't know he was still capable of smiling.

He looks back at the screen.

M

A

S

T

E

R

He looks back at her expectantly.

Natasha's jaw drops.

He keeps looking at her, waiting, and she just...

She doesn't do anything.

She doesn't say anything.

She's silent.

Frozen.

That's weird.

He looks around the room in hopes that someone will explain her reaction, but they're all staring at the screen much the same way she is.

He doesn't get it. Didn't she tell them about him? At the very least, Rogers should know. He was there. None of this is news to him. He quite literally escorted him back to SHIELD.

But everybody seems shocked.

And he doesn't get it.

"Did..." Natasha takes a shaky breath as she tears her eyes from the screen to look at him. "Did I do this to you?"

Rogers answers immediately with, "No, you did not. You didn't do anything. Whatever other-dimension Black Widow did, it wasn't you."

Loki clears the word and starts typing again.

P

I

E

R

C

E

He looks back at Natasha. She didn't do this. Of course she didn't. She's been nothing but nice to him. Pierce, on the other hand... Well, he had his moments, both good and bad.

"Pierce?" Rogers repeats. "Alexander Pierce? He did this to you?"

Loki clears the name from the screen, and all he types is, "Y."

"How?" Rogers asks, incredulous. "You're a god. It took six of us to take you down. How did Pierce get the jump on you?"

Loki furrows his brows. That doesn't make sense.

S

I

X

He looks up at Rogers, confused. What does he mean, it took six of them? Even right now, there are only five people here with him – and from what he remembers, there were only four involved when he tried taking over the world.

"Yeah, six of us," Steve says. "Me, Stark, Banner, Romanoff, Barton, and Thor."

Loki's eyes go wide.

T

H

O

R

He looks between the five of them. Thor helped stop him? He didn't do that in his world. He wasn't alive in his world to do that. What does that mean for his fate here?

"Yeah, Thor," Rogers says. "You know Thor. Your brother."

Loki's never typed so quickly.

A

L

I

V

E

Is he still alive? If he lived long enough to stop Loki from taking over the world, then he could still be alive now, right? It's obviously been a long time since then, but in comparison to how long their lives are? He could very much be alive right now. Couldn't he?

"Yeah, he's alive," time travel man says slowly. "He's not alive in your universe?

Loki clears the message and starts again.

W

H

E

R

E

"Far away," Banner answers, and there's a sense of finality in his tone that Loki's not sure he wants to argue with. "We're not getting him involved. Don't even ask."

Loki starts typing, but time travel man beats him to it.

"What do you mean, we're not getting him involved?" he asks, incredulous. "This is his brother. He was devastated when he died. We have to tell him–"

"No, we don't," Banner says firmly. "Have you talked to him lately?"

"I haven't talked to anybody lately," time travel man says. "You know that."

"Yeah, well, guess what?" Banner says. "I have. I've talked to Thor at least once a month for the last five years because nobody else would, and he's broken. He's not the same person he used to be. He's miserable and he's always drunk and there are days he doesn't even get off the couch."

"Okay, great!" time travel man says. "Then we tell him his brother's alive and cheer him up!"

"And what if Loki dies?" Banner asks. "What if we can't save him? You're going to risk letting him go through that again?" He shakes his head. "We're not getting Thor involved. Until we know Loki's not going to die, we're keeping him out of it."

A solemn silence falls across the room. Loki lets out a long breath and lowers his gaze. He wants to see his brother again. He really, really does, more than anything else in this world. And to know that he's been so miserable? He's been drinking his feelings away? He wants to cheer him up. He wants them both to cheer each other up.

But Banner's right. If he's going to die, he doesn't want to ruin anything. He doesn't want to make things worse.

Banner sighs. "I'm sorry," he says. "That was harsh."

Loki expects that to be directed toward time travel man. He's the one that Banner had been talking to, after all, and his tone wasn't all too pleasant. But when he looks up, he realizes it was directed toward him. He's apologizing to Loki, and he doesn't understand it.

A part of him wants to ask what the apology is for, but he supposes there's a more pressing question at hand.

I

D

I

E

D

Banner nods solemnly. "A few years ago," he says. "Thanos killed you. He killed a lot of people – and he made Thor watch. He hasn't been the same since."

Loki's still for a few moments, processing that.

He was murdered.

Somebody murdered him.

... Actually, he's not all too surprised about that. He would have been shocked to hear that he died a peaceful death.

But it hurt Thor. That's what kills him. He died, and his brother had to watch. He died, and it ruined his brother. He's never before wanted so badly to barrel into his arms and give him a hug.

"I know," Banner says apologetically. "Not quite what you wanted to hear today."

Loki takes a few more moments to let that sink in, then begins his next message.

W

H

O

Everybody is still looking at the screen when he finishes typing, and it takes a few moments for them to realize he has no more to add.

"What do you mean, who?" time travel man asks.

Loki continues with the previous message.

S

T

H

A

N

O

"Thanos?" Rogers finishes for him, and he sounds confused. Everybody sounds confused. Why is everybody so confused today? "Who's Thanos?"

Loki clears the message and just types, "Y."

"You don't know who Thanos is?" Scott asks, incredulous.

Loki clears the message. "N."

"You know," time travel man says, "I did not see that coming."

"Wait," Natasha says, "didn't Thanos send him to take over the world? So if he doesn't know who that is, doesn't that mean...?"

There's a moment of silence as the others process that.

"Holy shit," time travel man breathes. "So he never did that."

Loki's beginning to lose track of this conversation. All he's gathered is that he doesn't care who Thanos is and that it doesn't seem to affect him anymore. Whether that's true or not, he can't say, but it's what he wants to think, and they haven't given him any reason to believe otherwise.

"So he's really not our Loki," Rogers says. "He's..."

"He's basically just a guy," Scott says. "That's crazy."

Natasha pinches the bridge of her nose. "I hate this."

Rogers sighs. "I know. We all do."

"No, you don't know," she says. "He called me his Master. The me from this other universe was his Master. I don't think you can know how that feels."

Loki frowns. He wasn't trying to upset her. It's just... she's his Master. She is. There's nothing he can do about it. There's nothing he would want to do about it. But he doesn't want her to be upset, either. He's at a loss.

"He said it wasn't you," time travel man reminds her. "So even if it sounds really shitty, it's not. It's not your fault. You didn't do this to him. The you from the other universe didn't do this to him."

"Well, she clearly did something," Natasha says. "I can't..." She shakes her head helplessly. "I can't. I'm sorry."

And then she leaves.

Loki watches her go, a frown on his face. Was that his fault? Is it his fault that she's so upset? He really didn't mean to hurt her. He's not even sure what he could have done.

Loki sighs and turns his attention back to the keyboard. He's sure this won't help, but...

I

M

S

O

R

R

Y

"Don't be," Banner says. "You don't have to worry about anything but getting better. I think we're gonna take a minute to regroup, and, uh..." He shrugs awkwardly. "I don't know. Do you want to keep sitting or to lie back down?"

Loki misses the hand-squeeze system. It was easier with simple questions like these. Instead, he has to go through all the effort of moving this joystick all around the keyboard to type out the slowest words known to man.

L

I

"Alright, I got it," Rogers says.

He certainly does got it, and he lays Loki down comfortably in bed, covering him back up with his mound of blankets and leaving the tablet and the Atari controller within reach. Time travel man plugs it into a wire that he plugs into the wall. There's a lot of technology going on here, and he's not sure how to feel about it. It definitely confuses him.

"Need anything else?" Rogers asks.

N

A

M

E

S

They never did answer his question – and he supposes they have a right not to, but he really would like to know.

"Oh, shit," time travel man says. "Sorry. I'm Tony – Tony Stark. That's Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Scott Lang, and you know Natasha Romanoff."

Loki lifts his hand in a small wave, forcing a smile on his face. It's getting easier to smile. He really feels like he can move his face now. That's nice. He can move his hands and he can move his face and he can even kind of hold his head up a little bit. This is getting better. Not much better, he'll admit, but better.

"Get some rest," Banner says. "The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better." He pauses. "I think."

Loki doesn't need to be told twice. He closes his eyes, and though he can't be sure, he thinks he might fall asleep before the last person leaves the room.

~~~

He doesn't know when he wakes up.

He might have been awake for a while. He can't tell. The line between wakefulness and unconsciousness has been blurred for years now.

He doesn't remember anyone entering his room. He might have slept through it. He might have just forgotten. He's not awake enough to care.

He only notices when his eyes flutter open and there's a rather human-like shape seated next to him. His eyes aren't open long enough to see who it is. He's not sure he cares. He just wants to sleep.

And sleep he does, for quite a while longer. He has a wonderful dream, though by the time he wakes, all he remembers is that he was reunited with his family. It's always been a bittersweet dream, but now, that bitterness is gone. He's going to see them again. If he lives, he's going to see them again. He's never before been so determined to survive.

When he opens his eyes again, they're still here next to him. He forces himself to keep his eyes open this time, and he's glad he does, because he wouldn't have noticed otherwise that it was Natasha sitting beside his bed, her head in her hands.

His heart breaks for her. He's not sure he understands what it is that's upsetting her, but he does understand that she's upset, and he hates that. He wants to help her. He wants to cheer her up. But he can't. He can't do anything but lie here in silence and watch.

He's become an awful judge of time, but it has to be at least a few minutes before she finally lifts her head, and she does a double-take when she realizes that he's awake.

"Hey," she says softly. "How are you doing?"

Loki gives her a small, tired smile. He's doing alright – as well as can be expected, at least. He's still tired. He still feels weak. He still can't really move. But he's alive. He's in a comfortable bed. He's in the presence of another person, a luxury he had to go without for years. He'd say he's doing pretty decent, all things considered.

"Anything I can do for you?" she asks.

Loki pats his hand against the mattress twice.

It takes her a few moments to process that. "Two for 'no'?" she guesses.

He pats the bed once to confirm. There's nothing she can do to help him. Just being here is enough. He couldn't possibly ask for more than that. Even this is more than he'd dared hope for.

It grows quiet after that, and Natasha's gaze flickers around the room, looking anywhere but him. He doesn't do the same. He doesn't take his eyes off of her. He can't take his eyes off of her. He's afraid to. What if she disappears again? What if she leaves him all alone like she did before? He couldn't go through that again.

Finally, she meets his gaze again, and there's a solemn look in her eye. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "For whatever I did to you in your universe. You didn't deserve any of this."

Loki gives her a sad smile. She has nothing to apologize for. She did nothing wrong. But it would take too much time, too much effort to explain that right now. Maybe he will one day. Maybe he'll be able to talk one day; to tell her everything that's happened and assure her there's nothing she needs to be sorry for. That would be nice. He looks forward to the day.

But she's not done. "I don't know what happened between us in your world," she says, "but in this one, I'm not your Master. You don't have to call me that. You don't have to listen to me. I'm not in charge of you. I'm just..." She shrugs awkwardly. "I'm just a friend."

A friend.

It's been a long time since he's had a friend.

But he'll admit that he's a little confused. She doesn't want him to call her his Master anymore? Then what does he call her? His owner? Is that better? Is that worse? He's about to ask, but a glance at the tablet in his lap shows nothing but a black screen. Maybe he can't ask right now. He'll have to ask later.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?" she asks him.

He pats the bed once.

"Alright, then I'll let you go back to sleep," she says, already standing up to leave. "I'll come back and check on you later."

Loki gives her a small smile, then closes his eyes again. That was nice. This was a nice conversation. He can't wait to someday be able to talk to her again – out loud, in a way that doesn't take multiple minutes to get a sentence out. That will be nice.

He can hear her footsteps retreating, and the warmth within him dissipates as she gets further away. He's already looking forward to the next time she comes to see him. He's looking forward to the next time any of them come to see him. He really likes these people. He really appreciates them. He really cares for them.

He's really lucky to be here, isn't he?