The Man in the Iron Mask

It was the first Sunday of the month which of course meant it was visitor’s day. I’d just sent Michelle to meet with her father in the recreation room, and Phoebe had already been allowed to leave last night, travelling to a prison just across the state border to see her husband. She often made me laugh with the stories she would tell of their days together, robbing this and that. It had been all fun and games until apparently, several accidental events had them both faced with murder charges. I was always sympathetic towards her, but maybe only because she was pretty good tempered… most of the time.

I sat down in the recreation room, feeling that I should try to mingle a little with the visitors and be there to answer any questions they might have had. As always, nobody approached me. Nobody cared for how the facility was going, or for who it was that cared for their loved ones. Almost everybody was too busy speaking of past times with those that would care the most. And then there was Loki. I couldn’t help but to notice him as he was my only patient now that needed watching.

He sat on the couch across the room, just staring out the window. He’d grown fond of doing that when he was forced to be out of his room to socialise, an important aspect of the healing process. Sarah, too, had noted his apparent lack of interest in seemingly everything. She’d asked me just last week if I’d ever seen him with anyone else, and I’d looked at her rather strangely. Why would he be at all interested in these sessions if he couldn’t speak to anyone during them? How was he supposed to be social? But of course, I’d been reminded that there were other aspects to it that I had been looking straight through. I told her that I’d seen him kind of smile at a few of the youngest patients we had here as they spoke to one another. I hadn’t heard what they’d been saying. He’d also observe people, I noticed, but that wasn’t very often. Sometimes, I could swear he was observing me; this I kept to myself.

He was doing it again. I always knew, because the tiniest of hairs would stand up on the back of my neck and an almost unwelcome chill would make its way up my spine. I turned my head to find his eyes on me, but his expression gave no thoughts away. I figured I’d make my way over towards him when he didn’t stop his staring.

“Loki, did you want to go back to your room now?” He made the smallest effort to shake his head, before shifting over on the couch. “You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself out here…”

He patted the space beside him and I eventually sat, knowing that I was okay to do so. It was my job to be supervising him, and that’s exactly what I was doing. His stare continued, and I eventually looked away. The staring in this place was hardly ever a good sign.

“I really wish you’d stop your staring,” I whispered, because really, I had no right to tell him what to do. He was the patient. I was supposed to help bring him back into a sane frame of mind, though I truly believed he was very much already there, so that he would be fit to serve the rest of his sentence. He was very aware of his surroundings, and I sometimes felt he was only looking for attention and perhaps a way of escaping whatever his usual routine had been.

Loki moved a little in his seat, and then I was the one staring. I watched him very carefully as his eyes scanned the room and then noticed as he began to roll up the sleeve of his top. He was usually allowed to walk about without his cuffs on now, as he’d been docile and we had no concerns. I wasn’t sure if SHIELD was aware or who, exactly, had decided this, but things worked well this way. We were an institution focussed entirely on patient recovery. We didn’t care much at all for anyone’s past… even Loki’s, I guess, which was troublesome at best.

In the crease of his arm Loki had revealed a small bruise and several puncture marks. At first, I thought they had been of his own doing, but then I had to wonder how and why he’d be injecting himself with anything or taking his own blood. I looked at him and he looked away, and then rolled his sleeve back down.

“I wasn’t aware you were under any harsh forms of treatment,” I began, before a cold finger pressed against my lips. He removed it after a few seconds, and I tried to understand him. “Did you do this yourself?” I whispered.

Loki shook his head in disagreement. He took a quick look around the room before pointing towards a man sitting with a patient in the far corner, and I failed to understand what he had to do with anything.

“He’s a visitor, Loki. I believe he is that patient’s father.” Loki gently shook his head once more before he started pulling at my jacket, then pointing towards his hair. I felt like we were suddenly playing a very hard game of charades. “I’m sorry I… I don’t understand.”

I could see in his eyes the exact moment he became frustrated with me and retreated back into himself, his stare leaving me for the window. I got up and walked away then. I needed some space from him for just a moment. I made a point to walk past the man he’d pointed to, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He was just like any other visitor. Perhaps there was something wrong with Loki after all.