A/N: So during an extremely boring sociology lecture on gender and aging that somehow turned into an awesome discussion on PTSD, I got the idea for this little one-shot that has somehow morphed into a two-shot. I realized I should probably post it after I gave it to a friend to beta and I think I may have irreparably damaged her feels, as well as making people in the next room think I was murdering her (sorry Sarah!) Please don't hurt me folks! ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or anything having to do with Marvel. I just like playing in their sandbox.

Warning! – This has elements of non-consent. Do not read if you are not comfortable with this sort of thing!

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Everything in the windowless room was awash in blue. The walls, the floor, the… the bed. Clint shuddered, goose bumps rising from the cold air breezing over his naked back. The rational part of his mind, the part that was locked away, was screaming at him to run, to fight, to do something to get out of this situation. But his body wasn't listening to his pleas.

"Well, well, well. It appears I won't have to hunt you down to punish you after all."

His brain shrieked as he felt Loki's hand ghost over the back of his neck. But other than leaning further into the touch like a contented cat, his body did nothing. Loki's thin, cool fingers gripped his chin and turned Clint's face to his.

"How did you fight the Tessarect's hold earlier? Hmm?" The cold eyes searched his face. Clint heard his own voice answer.

"I don't know, sir."

Loki slapped him with enough force to turn Clint's shoulders to the side. But Loki's anger seemed to be directed more at himself than the blue-eyed man before him.

"No, no, of course not. You wouldn't know." A glint came to Loki's eye that rational Clint knew was a sign of no good. "But he does." Clint only had half a second to process Loki's meaning before the blue veil over everything was lifted and he fell, crashing to all fours. He gasped in huge lungfuls of air as pain assailed him from all sides. That was the only part of being locked away his rational self merely hated, rather than loathed with every fiber of his being. He couldn't feel pain, exhaustion or hunger. He felt all three now as Loki fisted a hand in Clint's short hair and pulled him to his knees.

"How are you fighting the Tessarect's hold?"

"Go… to… hell!" Clint wheezed, using Loki's grip on his hair as leverage to aim a kick at the god's knee. Pain lanced through him as Loki dropped him, then hit him across the ribs with the butt of his scepter. Clint lay on his side on the floor, trying to breathe as Loki stood, gloating, above him.

"A moment's freedom and that is all you have to say?" Loki tsked. "Fool." He used the toe of his boot to roll the smaller man onto his back, placing his boot on his throat and the tip of his scepter on his bare chest. "I'll ask you again, mortal, how are you fighting the Tessarect's power? Or, rather, what are you thinking of while under its command? I know that there must be some small part of your pathetic little mind that stays aware through it all. What does it think about?"

Clint pushed his true thoughts into the same mental corner that he was always shoved into and thought of other innocuous things. Things that he didn't really think about while locked away, but something this monster would believe he thought of.

He thought of the physics of flight, of the paths his arrows would take because of those physics. He thought of the angles for the perfect shot, something that would drive almost any other man insane. He thought of the perfect geometry that was in his bows, the thing that made them so lethal. He thought of anything but what he really did think about.

"Now now, Agent Barton, none of that. Save those party tricks for a roadside magician." Loki used the scepter's power to pin Clint to the floor, then touched two fingers to the archer's left temple. "Let's have a look at what those dirty little thoughts really are."

Clint heard a groan roll through the room as Loki's invasion of his mind really began. It was low, full of pleasure, and obscene. It took until Loki's chuckle that he realized the sound was coming from his own mouth. It filled him with shame.

"Let's see… Ooh." Now Loki moaned. "What do we have here?"

His memories that he'd been attempting to hide shot to the fore of his brain. The first time he'd hit a bull's eye with only a glance. The day that Coulson brought him in to SHIELD. The first time he'd (successfully) flown and landed one of the Quinjets. The first time his test scores had flabbergasted Fury. The first time he'd seen Natasha.

Natasha…

Images of her flashed over his vision. Her agility in a fight. Her eyes flashing with anger. Her hair whipping around her face as she fought. Her smile at one of his dry jokes. Her skin-

With a yell, Clint wrenched his head away from Loki's hand and he lay, panting, on the bare concrete floor, eyes closed. Natasha still flashed across the backs of his eyelids, but only for himself. The first external thing he became aware of was Loki's laughter.

"Oh, who is this? No, don't get up." He'd noticed Clint attempting to rise. "I doubt I'll get anything more from you like this."

Clint tried to scream as his brain was pushed back into its little box in the corner of his mind and the blue veil descended again. But his body instantly stopped all struggles, all attempts to scream.

"There now, much better." Loki adjusted his armor as he allowed Clint to rise. "Now, pet, who is this woman, and what does she mean to you?"

.0.o.0.o.0.

Rational Clint sat in the corner of his mind he was allowed, a shudder rolling through him. The shudder was caused by what Natasha would do to him when she found out he was the one who'd told Loki all her secrets. And she would find out. That's what Nat did.

"Thank you, pet. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Clint felt his head shake no, but all he wanted to do was scream and strangle Loki. "Now then, where were we before that lovely little peep show of the redhead? Ah. Yes. Your punishment."

Clint started screaming in his mind again. No. He wasn't going to make him do that again. Anything but-

"Down on your knees, Agent Barton."

He tried to fight the rest of his brain for control, but it was worthless.

"Let's see if you remember your lessons from last night."

Loki stood from his chair and unbuttoned his pants as Clint went down to his knees.

"Open wide, Agent Barton."

Rational Clint fled as far back into his corner as he could, as far away from the reality in front of him as he could. He forced himself to think of Natasha. He saw himself fighting side by side with her as partners. He saw her laugh, actually laugh on one of their days off.

In between the images of Natasha and bouts of choking, he realized something. He couldn't survive without her. He was in love with her.

It strengthened him, strengthened his resolve. He saw her sitting at her desk, cleaning her weapons. He saw her kicking his ass when she found out he'd told Loki-

Stop. He just repeated her name, like a mantra.

Natasha Romanoff. Natasha Romanoff. Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha. Natasha. Natasha.

Tasha. Tasha.

Tasha…

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