Chatper 1- The Flashbacks Begin.
Clint thrashed around in his small bunk. He was sweating profusely, the pillows were askew, and the sheets were bundled up at the bottom of the bed. Sleep was clearly out of the question.
Ever since he had been mind-controlled by Loki, he was haunted by awful nightmares that wouldn't allow him to get any rest. Just as he would drift off, he would get a painful, stabbing headache and then the flashbacks would come rushing back.
All of the memories tore at Clint. He saw all the awful things Loki had possessed him to do. Clint saw how he had hurt all of his friends, not Loki. The flashbacks were bad enough, but the guilt was consuming. Although everybody at S.H.I.E.L.D. told him it was forgiven and forgotten, Clint would never be able to forgive himself.
Clint hadn't really slept in weeks. And he was just so tired. This perpetual tiredness pulled on Clint, draining his strength. His growing unreliability was proving to be too dangerous for missions he used to view as a piece of cake.
He knew Tasha was worried. She would only ever approach him alone about the topic, but he picked up on her wary glances. Clint was a time-bomb waiting to go off.
Luckily, he knew somebody who could relate. Clint found comfort in spending time in the lab with Bruce Banner while he was recovering. Bruce was reserved and kind. He put Clint at ease- which seemed strange at first, knowing what he could become at any moment. But after the first few days of their companionship, Clint pushed any thoughts of the "other guy" from his mind.
Clint knew his friends wanted to help him, but they would never fully understand- not even Bruce. After all, none of them ever had Loki pulling on their strings like a helpless puppet.
So he kept the nightmares to himself.
Tonight was one of the worst nights for Clint. He could barely even muster up enough strength to close his eyes. He knew what would be waiting on the other side.
The instant his eyelids connected, the harsh memories started.
It began in the underground research lab at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. The Tesseract, brilliant blue and pulsating, had just opened a gaping doorway. With an explosion of sound and light, the portal was replaced by a lanky man with long black hair. He stayed crouched on the platform for a moment before looking up with a roguish glare.
Clint vividly remembered the man's piercing, emerald eyes, and shuddered. He tried to push them from his mind, but the flashback was too strong. Clint would just have to keep watching, against his will.
He had called himself Loki of Asgard, a Norse god. The intruder had easily taken out all the guards in the area, blasting them with an icy blue beam from his scepter. And then, he turned on Clint. The archer was reliving everything through his own eyes, and the remembrance of Loki's evil, broken expression caused him to tremble with terror. The powerful god seemed to be enjoying Clint's trepidation, feeding off of it.
Clint just wanted to wake up. He knew what was next.
He struggled with his own subconscious, but Clint was too weak. The nightmare continued.
Raising his scepter up to the archer's chest, Loki pushed the point into Clint's heart. Clint could feel his free will being sucked from his body into the glowing, blue orb of the staff. He felt his face go expressionless, and lost the ability to control himself.
Clint was now a prisoner- trapped in his own body. He was forced to bear witness, again, to all the awful, heartless things he had done during the time when Loki had manipulated him.
He had jeopardized S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, broken into labs, stolen information, hurt his friends, and, worst of all, tried to kill Natasha. All the violent events pierced at Clint's mind.
But then, he was forced to face one of the worst memories.
Once, when Clint had marched up to Loki to inform him of the location of the S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft, he had caught a glimpse of his own face in the reflective windows of the laboratory where they were stationed. Cold, unfeeling blue eyes stared back at him.
Clint didn't even recognize himself.
And then, with a bright flash of light and a stabbing pain, the flashbacks faded. He was panting, tired from his struggles to push through his painful past.
Clint jolted upright in bed the second his mind was released. But instead of seeing the blank wall of his room like he had anticipated, he found himself staring straight into the brilliant green eyes of Loki.