With a snort, Cy tossed the fig bar wrapper in the trash can at the door of Loki’s room. Then she returned to her seat. She decided to let the ‘mother’ comment slide; he was letting them look after him, so he could say what he wanted. She shut her eyes for a moment and blew a breath out through her nose. 

How long had those HYDRA creeps been at him? How long before that had he been sick? She didn’t want to think about it. If he couldn’t eat because of how hurt he was, they’d need to get some kind of nutrition into him. In order to be healthy enough to eat, he had to eat. It was maddening. She doubted he’d submit to a feeding tube—that was a little extreme—but a few small meals of light things like crackers might help build him back up. “You should probably sleep for a while, then we’ll bring you crackers or toast or whatever. God or no, having some nutrients in you will help you heal better faster.” 

Loki attempted to breathe and was wracked with pain. The furrow between Cy’s brows deepened into a trench. Anna gave him a glass of water and Cy waited to see if he could actually hold it. He might not have the strength. If so, he was dangerously weak.