Thanks to Marvel-Tolkien Fangirl, Maybell's Stories, STARSCREAM RULEZ, Dazja, and ArainaHaldthin for their reviews!
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Clint woke lying on the floor, shaking and sweating. His limbs were incredibly heavy and it felt like a nail was in his head. He pushed himself half-up to see that he was in one of the back rooms of the mummy building. He was surrounded by ragged gauzy fabric. A sickly sweet smell filled the room, and he tasted the bile of vomit in his throat.
"Memories are a difficult thing," a voice said, and turning Clint saw one of the red mummies. Loki was in her lap, his hand against her chest as she stroked his black hair back from his pale forehead. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep.
"Wha-" Clint started, but wound up coughing instead.
"A memory is part of a being, it makes them who they are. Taking it causes damage to that person it is taken from… we do not truly erase the memory from one's mind, we merely drain the color and taste from it. It is seen in its own mind as though through the eyes of another. And seven at once… The boy's sleep seems more restful, though, does it not? Not so many nightmares to haunt him."
Clint tried to reach out but found that his body was too heavy. He collapsed back again. "What did you do to me?"
"We shared a memory from his mind to yours. Trickier than merely taking one. We knew you would try to interfere. They wanted to take a memory to keep you in place. He told us to share with you one of his instead, so that you would understand."
"Is he-"
"Sleeping. Poor child. Such sad memories. If I could feel, I would weep."
Clint noted the use of I, not we. He opened his mouth-
"I am not connected with the others at the moment. We all have retreated into ourselves to savor these new tastes that the child has given us." The red mummy continued to stroke Loki's hair. "He gave me a day on that ship, being held down by disgraced kree officials while screams tore his throat and knives tore his skin. I have never tasted such delicious pain… but at the end of the memory, he was put in a cage, and you were next to him. You sang a song. He begged me not to take that song."
Clint frowned, his thoughts muddled. What song...? Oh. It was a lullaby, one that he used to sing to Cindy.
"Sing the baby song, Clint," she'd asked as she curled under his arm, tears streaming down her face. And he'd sing.
Oh don't you remember
a long time ago
two poor little babes,
their names I don't know,
They strayed far away,
on a bright summer's day.
These two little babes
got lost on their way.
Poor babes in the wood!
poor babes in the wood!
Oh! don't you remember
those babes in the wood?
Among the trees high
Beneath the blue sky
They plucked the bright flowers
And watched the birds fly;
Then on blackberries fed,
And strawberries red,
And when they were weary
'We'll go home,' they said.
Poor babes in the wood!
poor babes in the wood!
Oh! don't you remember
those babes in the wood?
And when it was night,
So sad was their plight,
The sun it went down,
And the moon gave no light!
They sobbed and they sighed
and they bitterly cried
and long before morning,
they lay down and died.
Poor babes in the wood!
poor babes in the wood!
Oh! don't you remember
those babes in the wood?
And when they were dead,
the robins so red,
brought strawberry leaves
and over them spread
And all the day long,
on the branches did throng,
They mournfully whistled,
And this was their song:
Poor babes in the wood!
poor babes in the wood!
Oh! don't you remember
those babes in the wood?*
"We're those babies," she would say. "But someday we're gonna be the robins."
Where had he learned it, he didn't know.
"Your father sang it to you, when you were very little, before he started beating you."
"Don't do that."
"I cannot stop. Your memories are too sweet not to taste."
Clint tried to push himself up, furious.
"I explored, but I did not take. You would know if I did."
"Would I?"
"Yes." The mummy shifted Loki so he was more cradled in her arms. "He seems peaceful, does he not?"
Clint looked at Loki. The boy's eyes were closed. His face pale, breathing deep, limp in the mummy's arms. "No. I don't think so. He's far too still."
"You have good insight. Or experience with nightmares yourself? Yes, that is it. You are thinking of your own nightmares." She leaned forward, pressing fingers against Clint's forehead. He flinched back, but his body was still too heavy to move properly. The mummy withdrew. "He has nightmares every night, same as you."
"What are they about?"
"Mostly his brother. Killing him. Much like you dream of killing your sister-"
"Shut up."
Silence.
"Why did he-"
"The song was the only comfort he had, Clint Barton. Is that not why you sang? To comfort him, because you could not push the words through your lips, afraid they would sound stale? He would not have accepted them. But the song…"
"Did you take it?"
She began stroking Loki's hair again. "To one who cannot feel of their own self, love and hate are the same. The pain was enough. We listened to your song together, until he fell asleep."
Loki whimpered, stirring. The heaviness in Clint's body was dragging him down again. He couldn't keep his eyes open.
"Poor child," the red mummy murmured as Clint lost his grip on the waking world. "His mother just told him that she has no use for a monster son…"
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"How long have we been here?" Clint asked Loki, carefully pushing himself despite the protest of his strained and bruises muscles.
Shrug.
"You're really helpful, you know that?"
Loki hesitated, and slowly opened his mouth. But before he could speak, a noise sounded in the main room of the mummy's tomb.
"You are not permitted-"
Clint sprang to his feet as he heard a blaster discharged. His head pounded, and the world swung around. Before he could regain his senses, a Kree was in the small room. Ver-Men's teeth were bared savagely as he slammed the butt of his blaster to Clint's head. The archer fell hard. He heard Loki scream.
"Bring the human," Ver-Men ordered.
Clint was kicked in the stomach and then dragged to his feet. Ver-Men was holding Loki to his chest. The boy shivered violently, but he didn't fight. Paralysed by fear? Probably.
"You thought you could escape, did you?" Ver-Men snarled as the Kree dragged Clint over a dead guard. "You should have killed yourself while you had your chance, human. I am not going to be so easy on you!"
Loki suddenly lashed about, grabbed at Ver-Men's face. The Kree recoiled, but Loki's small fingers caught his ear. Ver-Men shouted in pain. He dropped the boy, clutching at his head. Clint saw something dark in Loki's hand. Clint kicked out the knew of one of the Kree, and used his weight to threw the other into Ver-Men. He snatched Loki up, but Ver-Men had recovered. A fist caught his throat. The other Kree ripped Loki away again. Twisted him to the ground. Fists, feet connected chest, head, neck.
"Stop!"
The Kree backed off. Clint looked up to see the seven red mummies standing in a circle around them.
"You've interfered enough," Ver-Men snarled at them. He had Loki again, holding his tightly around the chest, pining his arms to his sides. "The titan wants him and the titan will have him."
"You could still die today," the mummies replied.
Clint pushed himself to his feet and, with a fist to Ver-Men's nose, took Loki back. The kree stumbled back. He started forward, lips curling, but stopped suddenly. He whirled on the red mummies.
"I don't care!" he snapped. His ear was missing, nothing left but a clump of black on the side of his face. "He is mine! Mine to do what I will with him!"
Clint stepped back, shielding Loki with his arms, wondering who Ver-Men was talking about.
Hold your ground, the order came through hard, rooting Clint to the spot.
"You might have power in this pathetic world, but if you deny the Titan his prize he'll slaughter you all," Ver-Men continued. "Where will your memories be then?"
The red mummies seemed to shiver; a few of them began to sway while others stayed perfectly still. It was like watching a bizarre dance. They're arguing, Clint realised.
"You will stay," one of them said eventually. "None shall leave this place. We will deliberate."
They turned as one. Ver-Men sneered at them and then took a step towards Clint and Loki. The last of the mummies stopped him with a hand to his chest.
"We will deliberate. You will wait."
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*First published as an anonymous broadside ballad, printed by Thomas Millington in Norwich in 1595