He expects it to come, every day—the scorn, the pity, the punishment—but it never does. They tell him that it wasn't his fault, that he had no control. Still, he feels ashamed. Every time he enters a SHIELD facility, whether it be an aircraft, a building, whatever, he feels an irate sense of betrayal. They tell him again it wasn't his fault, but he still feels like it was. Because he betrayed the very people that he worked tirelessly for, the very people that could have him dead in a heartbeat.
He let Loki into his mind, and he hates himself for that. Asgardian magic be damned; he could've fought it. In that split second where Loki's magic and his mind battled for dominance in his head, he could have fought a bit harder and won, he tells himself. He could have fought a bit harder when Loki first appeared. Maybe if he had, then Loki wouldn't have gotten Selvig, wouldn't have gotten away. This is what he tells them when they say that it wasn't his fault. Sometimes they don't know what to say after that, and his morale falls that much more. Sometimes they'll contradict him and say that he's wrong, that he did the best that he could, and his anger will become that much stronger because they don't know what it's like to have a monster like Loki in their head, they don't know what it's like to have no control over their thoughts and actions.
He understands now what it's like for Banner to become the Hulk. He can't help but think—even if he knows that the scientist probably won't agree—that Banner is the luckier of the two men. Banner can keep the monster caged, while the monster that was inside of Clint was in plain sight the entire time. When Banner is back to normal, he doesn't remember much of what happened, and he doesn't have to know unless somebody tells him. If Clint had a choice, he would say 'no, I don't want to know.' No, instead he got to wake up and remember everything that he did, everyone that he hurt or killed in vivid detail.
Why don't you see a therapist, someone had suggested to him. He had wanted to laugh, a harsh, bitter bark of laughter. Instead, he had kept his mouth shut, turned on his heel, and stalked away. Why don't you see a therapist? He had his reasons. No matter how good the therapist may be, they would never be able to help him. They would never be able to reach far enough to grasp how he felt, because no therapist had ever gone through what he had been through. No therapist knows what it's like to have someone else in their head, calling the shots and pulling the strings. No therapist knows what it's like to be taken apart, piece by piece, in a matter of seconds. No therapist knows what it's like to be completely unmade.
He hates the memories that he has—stealing Iridium, shooting innocents, firing a gun at Director Fury, fighting with Natasha, blowing up a part of the helicarrier. He hates himself because he knows that he didn't even try to fight against the monster that he was. It's this piece of hatred that leads his mind to wonder: what if?
What if Loki hadn't gotten him? Would he have found someone else to do his bidding? What if Natasha hadn't hit him hard on the head? Would he have gone on as Loki's minion? What if he had stayed in Loki's control, even after Loki was taken back to Asgard? Would he have wandered around as an aimless monster, or would he have continued to follow Loki's orders, sent from a whole other realm?
What if he hadn't fought back hard enough because he hadn't wanted to?
I'm back with fic! I've got a couple more in the works, but I found this one floating around in my docs and thought I'd put it up while I finish the others. Hope you enjoyed it!
Does anyone else have the issue where they have to go back and agree to the guidelines every time they post a new story?