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The battle was over. Now came the harder part. Finding everyone who hadn't made it to safety. Trying to help those who could be helped, locate the ones who couldn't be. It was going smoothly. As smoothly as it could, anyway. It was still horrible.
But this...this wasn't horrible, so much as strange. Because Steve recognized that person. He recognized that green, of course he did. He just saw it earlier today. And the day before. Honestly, he's seen enough of it for a lifetime. But it was still strange.
The person wearing that green was acting strangely, though. Specifically, he...wasn't. Wasn't doing anything. Wasn't moving, was just slumped over, knees to his chest, back to a half-collapsed wall. Steve wasn't even sure he was breathing.
Steve was torn. On one hand, that was Loki, the man who had caused all of this destruction and countless deaths. On the other hand, he was just sitting there, not moving. Steve couldn't even see if he was breathing. Finally, the altruism - does altruism apply to genocidal gods? - won out, and he cautiously approached.
Steve did not like the stillness. The closer he got, the more sure he was about it being a trick. He was approaching the god of mischief, after all. But Loki did nothing, and Steve kept moving forward. Finally, he was close enough to touch Loki, though he held back, "Hey, are you okay?" He was met with silence. He gave it a long moment, then reached out and nudged Loki's side with his boot. "Loki? Are you there?"
His foot made contact, so it wasn't an illusion. But Loki also didn't react. Steve frowned. He'd never admit to being worried, but he was. He definitely was. He didn't know Loki all that well, but he was pretty sure the Loki he did know wouldn't just sit there motionless. Was he even breathing?
Steve hesitated for a moment longer, then kneeled down to get a closer look. The first thing he saw was Loki's chest rising and falling; he was breathing. "Hey? Loki?" Steve tried, poking at Loki's arm. He still received no response. Steve was definitely starting to get unsettled. Maybe Loki was hurt, or unconscious? Steve moved to get up again, to call someone - he wasn't sure who yet - when he saw Loki's face. Loki's eyes were open, but staring off into the distance, not focused on anything.
Okay, that made up Steve's mind. He was calling Fury.
"You've reached Fury," Came the aforementioned man's dispassionate drawl. Steve was still trying to get used to that.
"Hey, uh..." Steve wasn't sure how to describe the situation without being called crazy.
"What is it, Rogers? I don't have all day."
"Well, sir, I-" Steve stopped, cleared his throat, and continued, "I found Loki."
"Excuse me?"
"Loki's here, sir."
"Where? Are you safe?"
"Yes, sir, I'm fine. He's...uh, he's not doing anything."
"What do you mean?"
"Just that. He's just...sitting there. He's awake, I think, but he's not doing anything. He won't respond to me."
"I'll send a team to your location. Keep an eye on him."
"Understood."
It took about fifteen minutes for the team Fury promised to arrive. In that time, Loki didn't move an inch, and Steve grew more and more concerned. He wasn't worried for Loki, no, of course not. He was worried for the trick that was definitely coming. This was the polar opposite of everything he'd seen Loki do in the past few days.
Steve stood back as the team approached Loki. They were armed, but Loki didn't seem to notice, or he didn't care. One of them, probably the bravest agent, stepped forward, holding a pair of specialized handcuffs that had been designed after Thor's visit the year prior. When Loki still didn't react, the agent pressed further, grabbing one of his arms to put the cuff on. At the continued lack of reaction, they repeated the action with his other arm.
Loki didn't fight them at all. It was like he wasn't even there. With his hands secured, the agent tugged on his arm, trying to prompt him to get up. And Loki...did. He stood up, and, when the agent started leading him away, followed without a word. The whole situation felt even weirder; because Loki was there physically, he was responding to some level of stimuli, but mentally, he was somewhere far away.
Steve watched as they brought Loki over to a jet, unable to shake the feeling of something being very, very wrong. He wasn't even worried about a trick anymore, not really; nobody was that good of an actor, not even a god with a thousand years of practice. Loki didn't so much as glance around, didn't even try to test the strength of the cuffs on him.
Steve didn't say anything then, but he wouldn't get the image of Loki willingly being led away in chains out of his head for quite some time.
A month later, Steve decided to ask about Loki. It had been in the back of his mind that whole time, and he couldn't stand the curiosity anymore. What he found was...disturbing, to say the least. Apparently, in the month Loki had been there, he had done nothing. Not metaphorically nothing; literally nothing. Loki had been led into the cell that first day, had sat down against the wall, and not moved an inch since. He was still alive, he was just refusing to do anything. He ignored food that was offered to him, too.
Steve was worried. It wasn't about a trick anymore - though honestly, that had been a lie the whole time - it was about Loki. He'd never seen anyone shut down like Loki had. Loki had only been on Asgard a few hours, what the hell had happened to turn him from the snarky, sarcastic person who'd attacked New York into this shell? He had to talk to Loki, try and figure out what had happened.
He entered the cell and sat down a couple feet in front of Loki. The most recent offered meal - an hour or so ago - sat untouched on the desk across the room. "Hey. Loki," Steve tried, not too surprised when he got no answer. "Hey, come on, I know you can hear me." He tried snapping his fingers, but Loki didn't even blink.
Steve sighed, looking up to the ceiling as he started speaking, "Look, I don't know what happened to you. But I'm worried. You're still human. Or- almost human. Close enough to one. What happened to you? I want to help, I do."
Steve almost physically jumped when Loki's hoarse reply came, "You can't."
"Loki? What do you mean?" Steve prompted gently, subconsciously slipping into the voice he used on victims.
"You can't. Help. Nothing can," Loki mumbled. His voice was raspy with disuse, but still easy enough to understand. His eyes slowly slid over to Steve, but they were dull. Sad. Steve never thought he'd use that word about a god, but...
"What do you mean?" Steve pressed, shifting a little closer. He was getting something, even if it made almost no sense.
"Can't be reversed," Loki mumbled, gaze moving back to the blank spot on the wall he'd been staring at.
"What can't? What happened to you?"
"Why do you care?" Loki's question hung heavy in the silence. When Steve didn't respond right away, he continued, "I killed hundreds, maybe even thousands of people. I destroyed a large portion of a major city. Why do you care what happened to me?"
Steve had to think about it for a long moment. Why did he care? "Because...because you don't actually seem that bad. And something happened to you that you're clearly struggling with, and I don't want to see anyone struggle if I can help it."
Loki thought that over for a long moment, "I know many people who would call that foolish."
"Are you one of them?"
Loki was silent even longer that time. Finally, he turned to look at Steve, "If you asked me that a year ago, I would've said yes without hesitating."
"And now?"
"I don't know what it is now."
"Where I'm from, it's called empathy."
Loki let out something that might have been a laugh if the rest of his face weren't so sad. He took a deep breath, "Empathy. Believe it or not, that isn't something I've been given very often."
"Why not? Everyone deserves empathy. No matter what they've done."
"Thor's wrong. Midgardians are far more advanced than he thinks."
"What?"
"What you just said. Nobody would ever say that, or even think it, on Asgard."
"Do you mean to say that empathy isn't a thing on Asgard?"
"Not really. And especially not for a criminal."
"Well, it's a thing here. And you're gonna get it from me. What happened to you?"
Loki stays silent for so long, Steve is sure he's not going to get an answer. When he finally does speak, his voice is soft, almost fragile, "First- you need to understand magic. It's- it's a living thing. You can feel it. It's alive. It's a part of you." Steve nods silently, prompting him to continue. Loki takes a slightly shaky breath, "A long time ago, when magic was not understood the way it is now, there was a ritual used that would permanently bind a person's magic."
Steve didn't like what was being implied in Loki's words, "And this...ritual? Was it- is it still used?"
"No. Not- not really. Not anymore. It hadn't been for a long time."
"Hadn't been..." Steve was getting more and more sure that he was not going to like where this conversation concluded.
"Until me. Odin is king, his word is law. So-" Loki's voice shook. Shook. Steve was more than a little startled by the anger he felt; even more so when he realized that it wasn't aimed at Loki.
"You said...magic is living. Right? So what- what does that ritual do to it?"
"It's like..." Loki trailed off, trying to figure out how to best describe it. He closed his eyes before continuing, "It's terrible. It- you can feel it. It's like- it's like that part of you dies. And you feel it." Steve was about to speak, but Loki continued before he could, "And after- it's like losing a limb. You know something used to be there, something is supposed to be there, and it's not. And it's-" Loki's voice broke, and he couldn't get himself to continue.
"And Odin...he knew? He was aware of what it did?" Steve asked, trying to keep his voice level. He didn't want Loki to wrongly think the anger was at him.
"Yes," Loki managed, voice trembling a little. He pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged himself. He looked small, and something occurred to Steve.
"How...how old are you?"
"One thousand, two hundred years old," Loki answered, and when Steve blinked at him, he added in a softer voice, "Which is- roughly the equivalent of seventeen, in humans."
Steve went still. He didn't even breathe for a long moment. Seventeen. Loki was seventeen. Loki was a teenager, and Odin had taken his magic permanently.
Steve didn't know if a god could die. He was going to find out.