A.N.
Huzzah for the Avengers! Story takes place a few months after The Avengers movie. Lots of ships set sail, so to speak. Reviews and critiques are greatly appreciated.
More Than a Moment
Clint was brought to his knees at the foot of Loki wondering where he went wrong. What could he have done to prevent this? This terrible outcome, where the ones he loved lie motionless in the earth while he was still alive. Luckily for him that would also change fairly soon. He stared at his hands in anguish. "Oh cheer up, human. The rest of the universe thanks you. Humanity was a plague to the rest of us. There's a reason we did not speak to you." Loki bent down to Clint's level and forced his face forward to look him in the eye. "Come now, you must admit, it was good while it lasted." Loki's piercing eyes seemed to search for something in Clint's pained face.
"But it wasn't real." Loki let go of his face and began to walk away. "I trusted you and you betrayed me. I gave you my heart blindly and you..." He attempted to collect his thoughts. "You lied to me!" He spat out. Loki didn't move. Instead he chuckled evilly.
"What did you expect? I'm the god of mischief!" He turned to Clint.
"I thought you loved me." Loki's face softened for just a moment.
"Who says I didn't?" Their eyes examined the other's, one searching for mercy and the other for truth. Times like this made Clint wish for Natasha's uncanny ability of discernment. "A complete lie never fools anyone. If you twist truth into a lie, the nations will fall to your feet."
"Like I did?"
"Like you did." With that Loki exited the room. Before shutting the door he motioned to the guard. "Kill him," was all he said before stalking out without looking back.
The Asgardian guards dragged him by the shoulders up the golden steps to the kill floor. There lay the bodies of some of his closest companions. People who he wouldn't have cared for just a few months ago. He was thrown next to the bloody corpse of one of his nearest and dearest. Her usually concerned face now lay motionless. A searing tear ran down his cheek. Somewhere deep down he found the strength to turn over and face his executioners. They were much larger than he was, they were at full strength, and they had the blood of gods. He was completely fucked. He looked towards the beautifully painted ceiling and waited for death, retracing his steps. How did this happen?
Thwock
OoOoOoOoOFlashbackOoOoOoOoOo
Clint stared at his naked torso in the mirror. His body wasn't what it used to be. Time and torture were not good to him. His skin showed welted scars grown over old ones and early signs of age seeping in. He almost loathed his own body. Each painful memory returned as he outlined the scars with the tips of his fingers. The mind blowing pain. The weeks left in the hospital. For what? The sake of his country? The sake of S.H.I.E.L.D?
He finished undressing and stepped into the shower. The hot water poured over his body. It triggered a fond memory. It was after a mission in Budapest and he and his partner had taken serious damages. After months in the freezing prisons they finally had their moment to escape. They had only gotten out by the skin of their teeth but after that, he trusted her with his life. S.H.I.E.L.D finally retrieved and debriefed them and required them to stay at an American hotel. It seemed so luxurious in comparison to their last home. Too luxurious. One night she even slipped into his room and crawled into his bed. He was startled awake by the rustling of the sheets.
"What happened?" He said, perhaps a bit too loudly.
"Sorry, I had a nightmare." She whispered. He laughed.
"You're not one to get scared."
"It was about you." He fell silent. There was nothing to be said. Instead he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry." She whispered. He shook his head.
"Don't be." He kissed her. Softly. Something she wasn't used to. Something she wasn't expecting from him. It created a feeling in her that she had not felt in a long time. A bittersweet sensation that scared her. She had to protect herself so she slipped out of the nightdress she was wearing. Her instincts told her that he wouldn't be able to resist. She was right.
As much as Clint tried to control the animal inside of him, he knew it was futile. He had been fond of her since the moment he saw her. She instigated a passion that couldn't be controlled by any form of logic or reason. The scratching of nails. The gnashing of teeth. A clump of hair in his hand. Blood underneath her nails. The animal kingdom was in a full state of ecstasy. A place it had not been for a very long time, for either of them.
The next morning he inspected the marks she left on his torso. He looked worse than he had when they left Budapest. But instead of bringing him pain, it brought a smile to his face. He climbed in the shower. It wasn't until he had lathered up that he felt a cool pair of hands around his torso. He didn't have to turn to know it was her. She hugged him firmly. He rested his arms on hers. They stood like such for more than a moment.
Clint came back to reality as he ran a bar of soap up and down his arms. The green tiles on the wall turned to a deep teal, the rustic red curtain a shade of violet. It was happening again. His mind. Someone else was seeing though his eyes. But who? Loki had been locked up for months. He felt weak. As if he were about to pass out. He grabbed the curtain to keep himself from falling. It was ripped from it's rings as his wet body collapsed to the floor in one solid thunk.
Loki's piercing blue eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Those eyes that held so much mischief also had so much pain. Anguish. Heartache. Loathing. Fear. "Wake up." He whispered. Clint was startled awake to find no one there.
This phenomena occurred more than a few times over the following weeks. As time went on, they increased in number as well. More often than not it would happen while he was experiencing some sort of flashback associated with the Avengers initiative. During target practice. At a shwarma restaurant. Seeing the blood stained Captain America trading cards owned by the late Agent Coleson.
Just last night he remembered meeting Tony Stark at his tower. They sat at his bar tossing a few back and reminiscing. Then he felt so cold. It was as if he had been standing in a freezer. His fingers were blue. Fog escaped his lungs. Blinking became difficult. Then Stark became Loki. His black eyes turned to a crystal blue. The lines of age and facial hair pulled back into his skin. Each ligament grew longer with his torso. Then that sly smile he remembered so well reappeared before him. It was impossible.
"Barton." Loki whispered. "I'm coming."
"Leave me alone!" He yelled to a seemingly unfazed Tony Stark.
"Excuse me?" He asked bewildered.
"I have to go." Clint said quietly. He hoped Stark was too drunk to put the pieces together as he rushed out of the room. The elevator ride to the floor where he was staying didn't seem to go fast enough. He could already sense the cool air returning. Every fiber of his being fought against him. The door opened and he stumbled to his room. He took the key card out and placed it against the lock. It opened. Thank you Stark tech. He shut the door without the strength to lock it. His legs gave out just as he reached the bed. The last of his energy was used to handcuff himself to the gate-like headboard. If Loki was going to commandeer his body again he would find there was little to do while restrained.
The room tuned to a light blue as Clint let go. The sheer curtains rustled in the impossible wind. The door to the bedroom slammed shut on its own. An icy chill ran up his spine. He cried out in agony. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see Loki lounging on the ceiling staring back at him.
"Barton. Lovely seeing you again."
