"Get a new bandage. He's bleeding through it."

"We're out of bandages."

"How are we out of bandages?"

"Because you mummified him with them!"

Loki's awake enough to hear the words. He's awake enough to feel the pressure against his skull. But he's not awake enough to process it. He doesn't know what's happening to him. And, honestly, he's not awake enough to care.

"We need to do something."

"What, you want me to run to Walmart and just hope the thing's still alive when I get back?"

"Well, what do you think we should do, huh?"

"I don't know!"

"Look, go get me his gown. I'll use that."

Footsteps.

A pause.

Pressure.

Against his head.

... That's weird.

It feels nice.

But it hurts.

... That's weird, too.

He's tired.

He's going back to sleep.

~~~

It's quiet.

He likes quiet.

Quiet is nice.

Quiet means he's okay.

He slowly opens his eyes, and the lights in the room nearly blind him. He wonders if they left him his cage and blanket. That sounds very inviting right now.

He sits up a little, propping himself up on his elbows. The ground feels soft. He feels like he's lying on a cloud. He can't put into words just how strange that is.

"Loki?" Pierce says cautiously. "Are you okay?"

Loki opens his mouth.

And then he closes it.

Is he okay?

He feels okay.

He doesn't really feel anything, actually.

He feels... numb.

That's what he feels.

And he supposes that's okay.

"Cage?"

... That doesn't really answer the question he was asked, does it?

"You're not in the cage," Pierce says slowly. "You're in bed."

Loki's brows furrow.

Bed.

He's in bed.

"I have a bed?"

"You do right now," Pierce says. That doesn't make much sense. "How do you feel?"

Hmm.

That's still a good question.

He's still not sure what the answer is.

"Tired," he says finally, lying back down and closing his eyes. He curls up on his side, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Sleep."

Pierce sighs. "Don't fall back asleep yet."

Loki just sighs.

He'd really like to fall back asleep.

But Natasha told him to...

Yeah.

That whole thing.

He's too tired to go through it right now.

There's a pause, a moment of uncertainty, and then, "Loki?"

"Not sleeping." He can feel himself slurring his words. He doesn't care all too much. "Talk."

"Does anything hurt?" Pierce asks him.

He has to think about that.

"No?"

He doesn't think he's hurt. It's hard to tell; he can't feel much of anything right now, pain included.

"So the meds are working this time," Pierce surmises.

He replays that in his mind.

This time.

There have been times.

That's strange.

He could ask about that.

He doesn't.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Pierce asks.

He ponders that for a few moments.

"Pain."

He remembers pain.

Lots and lots of pain.

And... fire.

There was fire.

He didn't like the fire. It was awful. It was so, so awful. It was so, so, so so so—

"Do you remember where you are?

That's a dumb question.

"Midgard."

Duh.

"Midgard," Pierce repeats. "That's what you call Earth."

"Mm."

"Do you remember where on Earth you are?"

He ponders that for a few moments.

They said a name once.

It's been a long time, though. He's not sure he can remember...

"Stark."

It's Stark's home.

Is it his home? It belongs to him, at least.

Belonged?

Stark's not alive.

It belonged to him.

... Whoever he was.

There's a pause; then, "How do you know that?"

Loki hums. He doesn't know how he knows. He just does.

Pierce seems skeptical, but he lets that go. "Do you remember where in Stark's warehouse you are?"

Loki furrows his brows.

And then he unfurrows them because that's a lot of work.

"There's a where?"

Isn't it just... the room?

He's confused.

He's sure that's obvious.

"You're in the infirmary," Pierce says. "We brought you here yesterday after you fell."

Wait.

That doesn't make sense.

"There's an infirmary?"

Pierce sighs. "It's not really an infirmary," he says. "It's the room with the medical equipment — the drugs and the AED and the bandages."

"Drugs?"

He doesn't like drugs.

Fury drugged him once.

The world felt all spinny and weird.

That's not all that different than it feels right now, actually.

"I told you that," Pierce says. "We've been giving you morphine through an IV. It's supposed to help with the pain."

Well, that doesn't make sense at all.

"I'm not in pain."

"I know that," Pierce says, his patience audibly draining. "Because we've been giving you morphine."

Oh.

Okay.

That makes sense.

... No, it doesn't.

"Do you remember waking up this morning?" Pierce asks. "You said you were only in a little pain."

Loki tries to think.

Does he remember waking up this morning?

Is it morning now?

When did he wake up?

What's he doing?

"Okay," Pierce says, "do you remember falling out of the tub?"

Falling.

He fell.

He fell out of...

Right.

The tub.

The pot.

The pot with the hot water.

The burning hot water.

"It hurts," Loki says quietly. "The pot. It hurt."

Everything hurt.

Every inch of him.

From his neck to his feet.

It all hurt.

"I know that," Pierce says. "And if we stop the morphine, it's going to hurt again, but that's not what I'm asking. Do you remember falling? Do you remember hitting your head?"

He hit his head?

He...

He did hit his head.

They were trying to fix it.

With...

Something.

They tried to fix it with something.

He raises his hand, bringing it to his head. There's something funny on it. He can't even describe it. It's... spongey. It's thin and spongey. And wet, too. It's a little bit wet.

"I know, we need to change the bandage," Pierce says. "I don't think it's bleeding anymore. I think it's just... gross."

The bandage.

That's what they were looking for.

A bandage.

They must have found one.

Maybe they went to Walmart.

He wonders what that is.

He feels around the edges of the sponge, and it feels as though it's taped to his skull. That's kind of funny. They taped him back together again. They...

They taped...

His skull.

His head.

He pats his head, his movements uncoordinated but desperate.

They didn't.

They wouldn't have.

They couldn't have.

...

They did.

"My hair."

It's gone.

All his hair is gone.

They got rid of it.

And he wasn't even awake to see it go.

He pulls his arms into his chest, wrapping himself in a tight hug.

They took his hair.

He can't believe they took his hair.

How long will it take for him to grow it back?

Can he ever grow it back? Especially on the diet they have him on. It's not enough. It can't sustain...

He squeezes his eyes shut harder.

His hair.

"You hit your head," Pierce says, and he sounds somewhat frustrated. "We had to shave it to see."

"My hair," he whispers..

He can't believe it.

His hair is gone.

Pierce sighs. "It's just hair. It will grow back."

No, it won't, he wants to say.

But he doesn't.

Because he wants it to grow back, and he doesn't want to admit that it won't. He doesn't want to admit that the hair he loves is gone.

It will never come back the same.

It won't be thick. It won't be healthy. It won't—

He sucks in a sharp breath.

It won't have Thor's hair braided into it anymore.

He presses his pillow — he has a pillow? — into his face to muffle the sound of his sob.

He lost Thor's hair.

He lost the only piece of his brother he had left.

He can't believe he let this happen.

He can't believe he let them take his hair.

He can't believe he let them take his brother.

He rolls over, burying his face in his pillow, but his sobs are too loud to even hope the fabric will cover them.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers between sobs. "I'm so sorry, Thor."

He's so stupid.

He's so, so stupid.

"Uh, Loki," Pierce says, a bit uncertain, "you do remember that your brother is dead."

"Stop it!" Loki screeches. He knows that! He knows his brother is dead! Thor is dead, and it's all his fault. He knows that all too well. He doesn't need the reminder of what he lost.

He can't believe Thor's hair is gone.

Pierce sighs. "Let me cut up a new piece of fabric for your head, and then you can go back to sleep." Under his breath, he adds, "Maybe you'll make more sense the next time."

Loki doesn't move.

He probably should. Pierce probably wants him to.

But nobody's told him to move, so he doesn't.

He just stays here with his face buried in his pillow, mourning what he's lost.

None of this would have happened if he let Thor become king.

He should have left the coronation alone.

Maybe then he wouldn't be sobbing over a tuft of hair.

~~~

When Loki wakes up the next time, the first thing he does is bring his hand to his head, feeling around for his hair. It had to be a bad dream. It had to be.

It's not.

He sighs and drops his hand back down by his side.

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

This whole thing is stupid.

He wants to go home.

"Oh, great," Rumlow deadpans. "You're awake."

Loki tugs his blanket tighter and rolls to the other side, away from the voice. "I'm asleep."

Rumlow doesn't say anything.

Maybe he believes it.

That would be nice.

"Pierce wants me to ask what you remember."

Loki frowns.

Maybe he doesn't believe it.

"Where is Pierce?" Loki asks without opening his eyes.

"Sleeping," Rumlow answers. "It's the middle of the night."

Oh.

Okay.

"Goodnight."

He'll just go back to sleep.

Rumlow sighs. "What do you remember?"

Loki frowns.

He did ask that, didn't he?

It's a good question, he supposes.

What does he remember?

"My hair," Loki says. He certainly remembers his hair, though he wishes more than anything that he didn't. Even just a few more minutes of ignorant bliss would be nice.

"Yeah, your hair's gone," Rumlow deadpans. "Big whoop. What else do you remember?"

Again, Loki has to think.

"I fell," he says slowly. That's what happened. He fell.

"You remember falling?" Rumlow asks.

"Mm-mm," he hums. "He said I fell. And..." He brings his hand back to his head, feeling around for the bandage. It feels different this time. Spongier. Less wet. "My head."

"Anything else?" Rumlow asks.

Hmm...

Does he remember anything else?

He remembers a lot of things, really.

He remembers where he is – Midgard; Stark's home; the makeshift infirmary.

He remembers what happened before he fell – the pot of water that burned his skin and the panic that came with it.

He remembers that they've drugged him.

He remembers that he cared at the time. Right now, he's not so sure he does. With his head in the clouds the way it is now, he never wants to come down.

But how much of this is important to tell him?

Finally, Loki says. "Pierce said no cage. Why?"

Rumlow huffs. "Because you're falling apart and we need you alive."

We need you alive.

The cage would kill him?

That doesn't make much sense. It's a nice cage. He likes his cage.

But he supposes the bed is nice, too.

He's going back to sleep.