What If... HYDRA Got Hold of Loki?

scars

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.