“You’re so fucked up,” Clint spat, “and you don’t even know, don’t even care that you’re not worth the effort it’d take to fix you. We put up with a lot of shit in this place, but you take the fuckin’ cake, man.”

“Oh, I weep with your abandonment. Don’t give up on me, I beg of you.”

“I’d be glad for you to stick around in the containment cells,” Clint growled warningly.

Loki’s eyes were cold challenge. “By all means, lock me up. Let’s see you dare such consequences…”

A knock came from the opened door and Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. They all looked to the entrance save for Loki, who seemed to know without question who it was that rounded the corner.

“There you are, brother,” Thor said, smiling. His jovial gaze flitted to Natasha. “Lady Widow! Welcome back, my friend; it is good to see your face.”

Natasha nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Have you finished your check-in, Loki?”

“Not yet,” Loki said blandly, not yet facing Thor. “I have been distracted.”

“Complete your curfew requirements, then. We were to attend to sparring tonight.”

Sparring, Loki mouthed, his fingers curling in subtle quotes where only the trio could see. Loki’s gaze then circled back to Clint; he licked his lips and smiled. “Coming, brother.”