Norse drinking games. Kenzi had to laugh, though it sounded forced and hoarse. "Sounds like a plan," she agreed - something to look forward to. It made it easier to cope. Made it easier to go through with it and hope that they'd come out of this in (mostly) one piece.
So, with one hand holding his, the other had to, of course, release the cloth that had been adding pressure to her eye. Air hitting it felt odd, it actually kind of stung. It wasn't gushing, the wound, but it was clearly moist, the skin around it red and agitated and sliced. Wasn't the prettiest sight to be seen - she could almost see her reflection in the water - but she forced herself to look away.
He reached for one end, she reached for the other and there it went, the burning buzz of electricity coursing through bone of them, straight to the core of their bones. Instinct told her to let the fuck go. Will kept her grip strong and tight, the same kind of will that kept her head still from Loki's scalpel administrations despite the pain.
It burned, it stung, everything hurt and hurt and then--
Click, the unlocking of the door.
Kenzi didn't know if it was the timing, didn't know if the current stop, didn't know if she just couldn't take anymore and let it go out of exhaustion, but she let the cable go. She let Loki's hand go. A yell of pain and she curled over the edge of the tub, body twitching and spasming and get me the fuck out of this thing movements.