What If... HYDRA Got Hold of Loki?

cold compress

Warnings: nudity, hypothermia

They're testing his cold tolerance.

It's perhaps the first test in years that he's found any interest in.

How well does a Frost Giant withstand cold? Is his tolerance even comparable? He's lived in Asgard nearly all his life, after all; Jotunheim is as foreign as foreign can be. It's warm in Asgard. It doesn't snow often. He doesn't know the cold all that well.

He looks forward to finding out.

He doesn't quite look forward to the process, though.

It's the middle of winter, and, for the first time in a very long time, Pierce has brought him outside. He's all bundled up in a winter coat and snow pants, but Loki trudges through the snow in only his hospital gown, his bare feet stinging as they sink into the snow.

He must not be a very good Frost Giant. This is already miserable.

Pierce begins to untie Loki's gown, first at the waist and then at the neck, and Loki helps him take it off without being asked. The sooner they begin, the sooner this will end and the sooner he can go back inside.

There's a light flurry of snow, and it sends a shiver down his spine. Each snowflake melts when it touches him, and he brushes the drops of water off his skin with his fingers.

His gaze falls to his arms. It's been a long time since those sleepless days began to drive him mad, but he wouldn't have guessed it from the state of his wounds. There was a time they would have healed by now, leaving nothing but a scar in their wake. Now, they're still red and scabbed over – scabs he's learned not to pick, because sometimes it will bleed, and when it bleeds, it doesn't like to stop.

He's since come to realize that Thor was never there; that it was nothing but his sleep-deprived imagination, but sometimes he still wishes he'd succeeded. Sometimes he wishes that Pierce hadn't found him when he did; that he didn't stitch him back together like a torn-up shirt and send him right back into the hell he'd so nearly escaped.

But then he remembers that wishing doesn't do anything but make him sad, and isn't he sad enough without that?

Pierce begins moving the snow around with his boot, digging a hole of a sort. Loki cocks his head to the side. This is weird. He'd assumed he would just be standing out here for a while — sitting, maybe, with his ass in the snow. He wasn't expecting a hole.

"You can lie down there," Pierce says, gesturing with his foot to the thin layer of snow still left in this new hole.

Loki doesn't particularly want to lie down there, but Natasha told him to listen and Pierce wants him to lie in the snow, so, reluctantly, he does just that.

He thinks it's bad when he puts his bare ass in the snow, but it only gets worse when he lies down and the snow touches his back. He shivers, hugging himself in a vain attempt to conceal his warmth.

"There we go," Pierce says. He begins kicking the snow back, covering Loki's body one small pile at a time.

Loki stops hugging himself, his hands instead protecting his penis from the cold. He doesn't care if the rest of him freezes. He's going to save his goddamn penis.

Pierce chuckles, but Loki doesn't care. He'd doubtlessly do the same if he was in this situation. Of course, he never will be in this situation because nobody but Loki has ever had the misfortune of being forced into these kinds of things, but he still believes it.

When Loki is completely submerged in the snow, only his neck and his head sticking out, Pierce takes a step back, admiring his handiwork. "I'm going to sit inside so I can make sure you're okay," he says. "If you can handle it better than a human, I might leave, but we're gonna give it at least 45 minutes before I let you out of my sight."