It takes a village to clean a Loki, or however the saying goes.

Thor is here to help actually clean him. He's doing the dirty work – pun intended, of course. While he's taking a bath, Steve and Natasha – the new Natasha; his original Master – are in charge of stripping and remaking the bed, cleaning anything wet or dirty and possibly saving some blankets if they're clean and dry and haven't touched his skin.

Thor carries Loki into the bathroom, plopping him down on a pillow on top of the toilet so he can help him get undressed. It's strange to think that there's a time this would have made him uncomfortable. There's a time he wouldn't have let Thor undress him; a time he would have objected to Thor being in the room while he bathed. Now, he'd stand naked in the streets if he was told to. He has no shame anymore. Not after all he's been made to do.

Thor unties his gown from behind and pulls it off of him in one swift movement, tossing it behind him with no care to the one piece of fabric that's kept Loki warm all these years. He's about to pick Loki up and put him in the tub, but then he freezes.

Loki furrows his brows, looking at him curiously. What is it? Why is he staring at him like this? After the thousand years they lived together, it's not as though this is the first time Thor's ever seen him naked. The first time he's seen him naked sitting on a pillow on the toilet, maybe, but he doesn't understand why that would make this that much weirder.

Thor slowly reaches a hand out, and his finger glides down his brother's stomach, barely touching his skin as though afraid he'll hurt him. Loki gives him a weird look. He was willing to accept a bath from his brother without calling it weird, but this? This is getting firmly into weird territory.

"What did they do to you?" Thor asks softly.

Loki looks down at himself, and then it all makes sense. That's what he's staring at: the scar that trails down his body from that first day in Pierce's clutches, all those years ago. It healed well, all things considered; better than some of his other wounds have. Dr. List may have been awful at stitches, but back when Loki was somewhat nourished, he could heal himself with or without their help.

Thor's hands ball into fists as he clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth. "I'm going to kill him," he growls. "I'm going to find this Pierce, and I'm going to kill him."

It takes a lot of effort, but Loki manages to bring his own hand to his stomach, resting it atop his legs so he doesn't have to fight to hold it up. He trails a finger across the long, horizontal scar at the bottom. He'd nearly forgotten about this. It's been so long since he's seen himself, and back when he did, back when he could move, he'd grown so accustomed to it that he hardly even noticed it.

A crash of thunder makes him jump, and before he knows what's happening, he finds himself falling off of his not-so-comfortable toilet pillow. Thor drops to the ground, arms shooting out to catch him before he hits the floor.

He supposes it's nice, in a way, that he doesn't land face-first on the tile. That would certainly not be fun. But it's hard to view this as a good development when Thor's hands are wrapped so tightly around his arms, squeezing him until he feels the bones are going to snap.

Thor looks up at him, a look of concern, of fear on his face. "Are you alright?" he asks quickly.

"Help," Loki mouths. He doesn't know how he needs to be helped. He just knows that he desperately needs help.

Thor begins to hoist him back up on the toilet just as the bathroom door slams open. They must have been louder than he'd thought if somebody felt the need to check on him.

"What's going on?" Steve asks quickly. "Is everyone okay?"

"No," Thor says, and now that Loki's seated again, his anger returns in full force.

Thor steps aside, giving Steve and Natasha a too-perfect view of Loki's naked form. Loki doesn't mind; what's two more people to the ever-growing list of people who have seen him naked? – but they clearly do, because they both awkwardly look away.

"Look at this," Thor says, fuming. "Look at what they did to him." He traces Loki's scar with his finger, and Loki shivers at his touch. "Look at this!"

Steve reluctantly makes himself look, and his eyes go wide at the sight before him.

Natasha covers her mouth with her hand. "Oh my god," she whispers. "What did they – Did they cut him open?"

Loki looks down at the scars across his abdomen. Is it that obvious? He supposes it probably is. What other reason would there be to slice into him this way?

"I'm gonna be sick," Natasha mumbles, and by the time Loki's looked back up, she's already out of sight.

He frowns. He doesn't want her to be sick. He certainly doesn't want to be the reason she feels sick. He didn't mean to make anyone uncomfortable. He would have warned them if he'd thought of it; if he'd known it would disgust them this much. But how could he have? To him, this is just... normal.

"Nat..." Steve looks out of the room, a look of sympathy on his face that doesn't go away when he turns back to Loki. He just looks at him for a few moments of solemn silence, then looks up at Thor. "Do you need any help?"

Thor shakes his head. "I don't believe so," he says. "But when you talk to Natasha, ask her where Pierce is. When we send her back, I would like to have some words with him."

Steve hesitates, then nods. "Okay," he says. "Yell if you need anything. We'll be right outside."

Thor gives him a small smile and a nod of appreciation, and, after sparing Loki one last sympathetic look, Steve slips out of the room, carefully and quietly closing the door behind him.

Thor crouches down on the floor, his hands on Loki's shoulders as if trying to hold him up, though Loki very much can sit here without assistance. It was just the thunder that startled him, but if Thor can keep himself together, then Loki will do the same.

"I'm going to put you in the tub," Thor tells him.

Loki just looks at him. He'd assumed as much.

Thor picks him up and carries him across the bathroom, gently placing him down in the bathtub. The water is warm, perhaps a little too warm, but it's certainly not the warmest he's ever felt. He doesn't feel as though he's going to shrivel up and die, so he doesn't complain.

Thor begins washing him with just water first, scooping it up in his hands and letting it slide down Loki's body. He does his best to suppress his flinching. It's hot, much hotter than he'd like, but it's not too hot. He'll be alright. When he's clean, he'll be alright. It will be worth it.

Thor grabs a washcloth and soaks it in soap, then uses the bath water to work it into a sudsy lather. He begins washing Loki up, staring at the neck and working his way down. It feels nice, getting all of this grossness off of him. He hadn't even realized just how gross he felt until now. And it does leave him wondering if this bath was a mistake and if letting all of this grossness pool within the bathwater is a bad idea, but right now, he's not all too concerned about that.

Fortunately, because Loki's growing ever-so-slightly stronger (and the fact that his limbs weigh less in the water certainly helps), he's able to wash himself a bit, too – at least enough that this brother doesn't need to touch his dick because that might be a little too weird, even for him. Thor washes his hair, and then he drains the water from the tub, a silent signal that his bath is over.

It takes many, many towels, but somehow, Thor manages to get Loki out of the bathtub and onto the closed toilet seat without getting himself wet in the process. Thor starts drying him off, starting with his hair and working his way down, and Loki just sits there, silent, letting him work. He wishes he could help. He wishes he could do this himself. He feels bad, making Thor help him like this. He shouldn't have to do this. It's not fair to him.

But Thor does it without complaint. He even offered to do it, before Loki had even thought it was a possibility. So he must not mind all that much. If he's willing to offer to help, then he must not mind.

Thor starts to dry off his chest, but then he pauses, the towel resting against Loki's abdomen. He gently dabs at the scar, though it's so old, even the roughest of scrubs couldn't harm it. Loki looks at him with a frown. If he'd known this would bother him so much, he may have tried to refuse this bath. He didn't mean to make him worried or concerned or sympathetic or whatever it is he's feeling. He just... he wanted a bath. He wanted to feel clean.

"I'm sorry," Thor says quietly. "I wish we could have rescued you years ago. I can't imagine what you've gone through."

Loki gives him a small smile. He appreciates the sentiment, but the past is the past. What's been done to him has already been done, and nothing is going to change that. What matters to him now is that he has his brother and he has his Masters – and a wonderful handful of other friends, too.

"I'm going to find him," Thor tells him. "I'm going to find the man who did this to you, and I'm going to make him pay. You have my word."

Loki shakes his head. He doesn't need to do that. He hasn't seen Pierce in years. That's all in the past now.

"But first, we're going to help you," Thor says. "We're going to find the scepter, and we're going to help you."

Loki forces a smile, but he doesn't understand how the scepter is going to help him. He does remember that he was rather fond of his scepter, but how does that help him now? He wouldn't even be able to use it in this state.

He wants to believe this is a good idea. Whatever it is that his friends are planning to do, he wants to believe in it. He wants to believe they're making a good choice. But something inside of him is telling him not to; begging him to see the truth and stop them before they ruin him further.

But it's Thor.

Thor would never hurt him.

He knows that.

So he just fakes a smile and hopes for the best.