"I can't heal anyone," you told her firmly. You weren't going to enlighten her that you were without your powers unless you were forced to. You hoped it didn't come to that. You didn't like advertising when you were without your powers. Especially when you were without your Loki. What you wouldn't give right now for him and his overprotective tendencies to be here with you. He would kill everyone here just for taking you from him.

And he wouldn't blink an eye or have any remorse

You wouldn't blame him one bit.

"And there's a process to requesting my services as healer," you informed her grumpily. The processes were in place for a reason. You were the sole healer in the realm. You couldn't accommodate every request for healing. The team also made sure that no requests from unsavory people made it into your queue, or things that you couldn't heal. With no other healers in the realm, at least none that you knew could heal as you did, you had to be careful, or at least others were careful on your behalf. Healers were notorious about having an inability to stop a healing if it wasn't finished, or saying no to someone in need of being healed. That's why you always had to take a babysitter when you went out to heal someone besides Strange, since he knew how to watch for your limits too. "And kidnapping a healer isn't likely to endear her to helping you,"

"The Avengers turned down our request three times," the old lady told you sadly. You stiffened. There were good reasons why the team would turn down a request. Usually it was Jarvis who screened the requests before they even got to the team. They screened them again before they even got to you. The team was extremely overprotective of you, and not just because you were their healer. "They said my Joe was unworthy of healing. But he is so very sick," the old lady told you. "You'll meet him in a few days when you're feeling better and then we'll send you right home," she reassured you.

Shit.

She knew you were without your powers.

"The team will come find me," you told her. "Just let me go, they don't even need to know I was here. My fiancé is Loki of Asgard, the one who tried to take over the world," she didn't need to know he was reformed while you were threatening her with him. Seriously, you'd say or do anything to get out of here

"Don't fret, dearie, you're safe and hidden here. There aren't many healers in the world, but there are plenty of magic users who can hide one witch," she told you kindly. You were stuck here without hope of rescue until you got your powers back. And then they were going to put you in front of someone in desperate need of healing in hopes that you would just automatically heal him because you were a healer.

This whole plan reeked of desperation.

You huffed and took a seat on the bed. "Can I at least have a book if I'm trapped here?" you growled. You were defeated for the moment and you knew it. She gave you a warm smile.

"I knew you'd be reasonable, dearie,"

*

You wished for Loki or your powers multiple times over the next three days. Pretty much constantly in fact. You were surprised that he hadn't shown up already, even though you were hidden. He was a master magician. He should've been able to do something. Though you knew that even he could only do so much.

It was no matter.

These people were screwed the second you got your powers back.

They were all dead. They just didn't know it yet and were walking around on borrowed time.

It didn't help either that you spent your days curled in a ball in the bed without so much as pain pills and you desperately missed Loki's healing tea.

*

It was nearly midnight when the strong men came into your room and undid the manacle from the bedpost. They left it attached to your ankle. You were up and swinging in an instant, but they were prepared for you and you hadn't gotten your powers back. Cattle prods should not be used on humans or Asgardians. Especially those without their powers and full strength.

You were so going to kill them.

Until they were flatter than dead.

They led you, half dragging you between them as they led you to the bedroom at the end of the hall. There was a thin frail figure in the bed in the middle of the room, hooked up to all sorts of medical equipment.

You felt how sick he was, even without your powers, it was a miasma in the room, in the very air. He was dying.

The men attached the chain from your ankle manacle to the bed post in here. They were forcing you to stay here with this man and hopefully heal him.

"Hello, little healer. I have been told you will have your powers back shortly. I require your healing services. We will let you go as soon as you have performed that task for me," he told you with a weasel-y voice. It felt like slime against your skin. It also made your nose wrinkle with the lie. You had spent too long with the god of lies not to recognize one when it was right in front of your nose.

He had no intention of letting you go.

"Don't think about fleeing when your powers come back. That little anklet you have will ensure you remain here. Teleporting is such a handy skill, but pesky when your services are needed," he told you, sounding like a used car salesman. He had the same sleaziness about him and it make your skin crawl.

"Who are you?" you demanded. If the runes manacle only limited your teleporting you were still alright. You'd still kill them all and punch a hole in the shields around you blocking Loki from finding you.

The man looked familiar, but you couldn't quite place him. "Johann Schmidt, Joe to my mother, who you met." Of course. That's why he looked familiar.

He was a bigwig of Hydra.

No wonder the Avengers had denied his request for healing.