Warnings: suicidal ideation

He's lost track of how many days he's been here.

A week, probably.

Two weeks?

It might be three.

Days don't mean anything to him anymore. It's just one tortuous trial after another. He's grown uncomfortably accustomed to it. It's familiar in its unfamiliarity. Every day is a new horror, and he has no choice but to accept it with open arms.

Today doesn't seem all that bad.

He's seated in a metal chair, arms and legs bound so he can't move, not that he would even try; not that he could try. After all, Natasha told him to listen to them, and they told him to sit in this chair. Whatever they do to him now, whatever they want him to do now, he has to do it. That's just the way it is.

As they place the electrodes on his head, his gaze keeps flickering to the bowl by the door. It's just porridge, he's sure. It's always just porridge. But he hasn't eaten all day, and right now, porridge sounds like the most wonderful thing in the world. There's a water bottle next to it, and his dry, scratchy throat so desperately wants to drink it.

Every day, the same thing.

When we're done, you can eat.

He cannot wait for this to be done.

"We're going to monitor how your brain functions through a series of tests," Pierce explains to him as he hooks his finger up to the same machine the electrodes are attached to. Next, he wraps a blood pressure cuff around his arm – something that's made frequent appearances over the last few days, so they must be getting some interesting results. "I'm gonna start by asking you a series of questions, and I want you to answer them as honestly as you can."

Loki's gaze flickers to the bowl by the door. He'll tell them whatever they want to know if they'll give him his porridge. Hell, he'd tell them whatever they want to know if they just ask; they have that control over him. They don't need to bribe him. They don't need to monitor him. If they ask for the truth, they will get it. It's as simple as that.

"Okay, first question," Pierce says. "What is your name?" He turns his gaze to the monitor that everything is attached to.

"Loki."

That was easy. That was a nice start. It's not so bad right now.

"Your full name," Pierce says. "First and last." He pauses. "You do have last names in Asgard." It's a question of sorts, and if he asks a question, Loki has to answer it.

"Yes," he says. "My full name is Loki..."

Odinson.

But he's not.

If he was an Odinson, then Odin would be here. He would ride in upon Slepneir's back, just like he did when Thor angered the Jotuns. He would come in and he would save him and he would bring him home, and maybe he would be angry and maybe he would curse him out and punish him for his mistakes, but he would come after him.

But he's not coming.

So he's not an Odinson.

Laufeyson?

Can he even call himself that? They're related by blood, yes, but they've only met once since he was taken from Jotunheim, and that was due only to Loki goading Thor into an attack on his people. They didn't speak about it. They didn't know.

Laufey's not a father to him. He abandoned him in the midst of a war; left him to die alone. Is that what a father does? Abandons his son in his time of need?

Although he supposes what Odin is doing to him now isn't all that different.

Pierce claps his hands in front of Loki's face, and he jumps, snapping back to reality. The man is standing in front of him, a look of impatience on his face. He supposes he's earned that. This simple question has turned out not to be quite so simple.

"Your name," Pierce repeats. "Your full name."

Loki opens his mouth.

Then closes it.

I want you to answer them as honestly as you can.

There's only one way to answer it, then.

"I don't know."

Pierce narrows his eyes. "You're lying," he says darkly. "I told you not to lie to me."

"I'm not," Loki says quickly. "I'm not lying. I don't know what to call myself. Odinson; Laufeyson; neither feels right. I've been disowned and forgotten by both my fathers. To call myself their son would be more than dishonest."

He probably didn't need to say all of that. He probably didn't need to be that open about his life and his family. But then, he was told to be as honest as possible, and is this not the epitome of honesty?

Pierce takes a moment to process that. He looks at his screen for a few moments, studying it. Then, "Lie to me."

Loki's brows shoot up. "I beg your pardon?"

"Lie to me," Pierce repeats. "About anything. I want to see something."

Loki doesn't know what lie to tell, so he spits off the first one that comes to his head.

"I am not hungry."

Pierce studies the monitor for a minute or so, swiping a bit from side to side, though with the monitor facing away from him, Loki can't make out why.

"Okay," Pierce says. "I believe you. That wasn't what it looks like when you lie." The corners of his lips quirk upwards in an amused smile. "You really are hungry, aren't you?"

Loki swallows hard and forces himself to nod. "I am." He is so, so hungry, but he doesn't want to talk about it; doesn't want to admit it to the man whose sole purpose seems to be causing him misery. If he loses his porridge for this...

But Pierce just chuckles. "Then we should get on with this," he says. "Your dinner's getting cold."

So Pierce asks him questions. They're stupid questions, really. Some are a bit more personal than he'd like them to be – "What is your family like?" was perhaps the hardest to answer – but, for the most part, he doesn't seem to care what Loki says; he cares how the machine reacts to him saying it.

He's told to lie and to tell the truth; asked to answer happy questions and sad; made to talk about things that would never cross his mind in any other situation. Until finally, Pierce tells him that he's on the last question. He just has to answer this one truthfully, and then they're done.

"How do you feel about this?"

Pierce pushes the machine away, clasping his hands in his lap as he watches the god take in the question.

Loki furrows his brows. "I'm sorry?"

"How do you feel about all of this?" Pierce asks. "Your... situation. Your predicament."

Loki has to sit on that question for a few moments.

How does he feel about this?

He hates it, of course. That much is obvious. Even the most masochistic of people would hate the life he's been forced to lead. But, truly, honestly, how does this make him feel?

Finally, he answers.

"I feel that I would be better off dead."

It doesn't hit him so hard until he's said it aloud.

He would be better off dead.

He would be better off dead.

He's become somewhat resigned to this misery. It's been day after day of torture, a neverending cycle of pain, and he's had no choice but to accept it. This is his life now. There's nothing he can do but suffer through it. But if he didn't have to, if he had a choice...

If he had a choice, he would kill himself.

He knows now that there are worse fates than death, and he's certainly found one of them.

"Hmm," Pierce hums, nodding thoughtfully. "Interesting."

Loki lowers his head in shame. No warrior with any honor would even think such a thing, and yet here he is, admitting it aloud as though there's nothing wrong with it, as though it's normal, as though it's okay.

But, if he's honest with himself and if he's honest with his captor, death does sound like his only escape, and, if he had the option, it's one he'd embrace with open arms.

Pierce pushes himself to his feet. "Alright, well done," he says. "You gave us a lot to work with. That's great."

Loki doesn't care. He doesn't care about their mission. He doesn't care about what they want from him, what they'll use him for. All he cares about is that this is over.

Loki looks up at him expectantly. "I can eat now?"

Pierce just laughs, and Loki can feel himself deflate. But... He'd been so sure... Pierce had said....

"We're done with the first part of the test," Pierce tells him. "We've seen how your mind responds to verbal stimuli. Now..." He reaches toward his monitor, and from behind it, he holds up a switchblade, flicking it open with a slight smirk on his lips that Loki's come to dread more than nearly anything. "I want to see how your brain reacts to physical stimuli."

Loki swallows hard.

Not this.

Not again.