Captive

Chapter Eight

Warnings:
Kidnapping
Captivity
Restrained (Tied to a Chair)
Pet Names
Non-Consensual Touch (Non-Sexual)
Pain
Crying
Dizziness
Passing Out
Unconscious
Lima Syndrome

Your POV
Day Eight
March 11, 2021

You don't have any means to know the time or date. Your cell has no clock and no windows. You hadn't thought much about it before, too blinded by panic. But now that you were given a time restraint, you wish there is something that can give you the time. Something, anything.

Loki could walk in there in ten seconds, five minutes, four hours, one day, a day and a half, who knows? Before, you could live with being alone for hours on end. Any minute alone was a minute without Loki.

You never thought you'd look forward to seeing Loki.

Sure, he could visit before the two day limit, but even if he did, you could ask him for the time, and he might tell you. Then you would at least have an idea of how long to wait. But if he doesn't tell you, then you know you'll be even more anxious.

You also have no idea how long you've been here. Few days? Weeks? Months? You never even thought of it. How long ago was it that Thor dropped by and told the rest of the Avengers that Loki was in Queens? How long can a person sit in a chair the way you are? Your wrists, ankles, and upper arms ache horribly, and you wouldn't be surprised if your skin is chafed and bloody. It doesn't help that moving at all means rubbing against the ropes, that sleeping means putting all your weight against the ropes, and that, occasionally, when sitting (which has its own array of problems when done too long) becomes unbearable, the only other option is leaning into the ropes.

Being untied seems like heaven.

To think that I'm desperate to see my captor. Is this how deep I've plunged in this whole mess? And heck, he might not even untie me in two days. He could wait an extra day or so and I wouldn't know. I'd have no way of knowing. "Gosh, how did I get into this mess?"

"I would think you signed up for this when you joined the Avengers."

You flinch when Loki speaks, not remembering hearing him enter. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asks as he sits down facing you.

"Get here silently? Are you secretly a teleporter?"

"[Y/N], dearest, I'm not doing anything. You get stuck inside your head, wrapped up in fear and anxiety. I'm not trying to come silently. This door isn't the best. It's heavy and needs to be oiled. It makes a lot of noise opening and closing."

"Oh. I didn't think-"

"That you were that closed off from the world? Circumstances considered, I doubt it's abnormal. I just gently pulled you back out of your head whenever needed."

"Oh, I, uh, okay." You swallow nervously. As always, panic alarms are blaring in your head, so loud that it takes so much effort to do simple things, such as stringing sentences together. You feel your breathing pick up despite your efforts to maintain control. Time...time...need to ask Loki...how long...what time...need to ask him....

"Sh, [Y/N], take some deep breaths, dearest," Loki says as he tucks your hair behind your ears. "Breathe, empty your mind, you're safe." His thumb brushes against your temple before he drops his hand back to his lap.

"Easier said than done," you mutter.

Loki smiles warmly. "I know, I know. Take your time."

"Time, yeah, time," you say, sure you sound crazy. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. You know you're hyperventilating, but, honestly, why does that matter? It's not like you're going anywhere. You repeatedly clench and unclench your fists, unbothered by the way your palms sting when your nails dig too deep in your skin. Time...time...what time is it? After a minute or so, you speak up. "Wh-what time is it?"