Thanks to Marvel-Tolkien Fangirl, Suheyla, Oriana8, ArainaHaldthin, 1995FrenchFry, Dazja, STARSCREAM RULEZ, chickens, Thursday's Child-1297, TheAlgea, Midnight'sRevenge, and Sumi Anzu for their reviews! (if I missed anybody, sorry!)
Also, I am so sorry that I took so long to put another chapter up! I am going to try to do better, I promise.
#
"You're sure about her?"
Clint startled, turning to see Coulson standing in the back of the room. His grey eyes twinkled knowingly.
"She's very pretty."
Clint shook his head. "Yes, I'm sure about her and no, it's not because she's pretty."
Coulson joined him, looking through the window at the petite red-head sitting nervously in the interview room. "Why then?"
"Why were you sure about me?"
"If I was wrong, you couldn't have killed me."
"Yes, I could have. Just not as easily as she can."
"You are going to have to answer my question eventually."
Clint's smile was short lived. "I can't back it up, Phil. Just a got feeling. And the voice of a ghost."
Coulson raised a questioning eyebrow.
"When I had her at the end of the gun, I- I thought of Cindy. I wondered- if she had lived, what would she look like? Who would she be?"
Coulson was silent. "You've been sent after red-heads before."
"It's not because she looks like her. It's… I don't know what it is. I just knew I couldn't kill her. Am I crazy?"
Coulson patted his back. "I'll let you know."
Clint looked at the little blue boy crouched near the radiator. It had been nearly a week since they had left the cold planet. Loki still didn't talk, even though he was clearly more relaxed now that Ver-Men wasn't a constant threat. I wish you were here, Phil. Am I crazy?
There was a knock on the door. "Dinner."
Clint answered it and accepted the two bowls. Setting one in front of Loki, he settled down himself and poked his spoon into the steaming broth.
"Haven't these people heard of any sort of food besides soup?"
Loki giggled.
Clint's brows disappeared into his hair. "Was that a sound?"
The boy's gaze dropped and his shoulders hunched.
"I was just teasing."
Loki ignored him, reaching into the soup. He plucked out a cube of meat and popped it into his mouth. His gaze travelled back to Clint's face and his eyes narrowed.
"Are you still trying to figure me out?" Clint murmured, crunching a carrot-like vegetable between his teeth. He looked back at the blood-red eyes in the blue face.
Loki's gaze dropped again. His fingers lingered in his soup for a moment. Suddenly, he pressed his hand to the radiator. Clint reacted, grabbing his arm, yanking him away. Grunted as the instant pain bit his palm.
"What are you doing?" Clint snapped, pulling his sleeve over his other palm to inspect Loki's hand. His pink hand. Clint stopped, watching as the blue seeped back into Loki's skin.
"What the– Are you just too cold? Is that why you've turned blue?"
Loki nodded.
Clint released Loki's arm, feeling the cold from Loki's body through his sleeve. He sat back, contemplating the situation.
"You said that this was your true form."
Loki flexed his hand and reached for the radiator again.
"Alright!" Clint pulled his hand back again. "You should have let me know another way, but we'll figure this out. Or rather, I'll have to figure it out because you refuse to talk. But first, we both have to take care of our hands."
He retrieved the near-empty container of healing balm that he had kept and set it between himself and Loki. He began applying it to his own palm, gritting his teeth against the pain. Was it his imagination, or was this stuff worse every time he used it? Loki viewed the container with undisguised fear.
"It's okay, you don't have to use it."
Clint observed his hand; the balm was already sapping the black burn away.
He turned his mind back to Loki. How could he warm him up enough to change him back to his normal self... Or rather, the way he seemed to normally look. He said this is his true form, so this is his natural state, isn't it? But if Loki was willing to press his bare hand to a hot stove just so Clint would know that by warming him up he'd look like he did most of the time, Clint had to try to help!
That was far too long a thought, Barton. Clint pressed his fingers to his temples. Loki tentatively began applying to balm to his injured hand. He only put a little on before stopping.
"Stay here," Clint ordered, standing again. "I have an idea, but I've got to go out for a bit."
Loki nodded, shifting closer to the radiator. Clint quickly made his way to the galley, where he was able to barter use of a large washing basin and a pot in exchange for helping the cook for three hours a day during the rest of the voyage.
"Anything happen?" he asked when he got back.
Loki shook his head.
Clint set to work. He put the basin near the door leading to the washroom. He ran the hot water straight into the pot, dumping it into the basin when it was full. Loki still crouched near the radiator, watching curiously.
"Is it going to be too hot for you?" Clint asked, gesturing Loki over when the basin was full.
Loki bent over the edge and stuck his uninjured hand into the water. Given that he didn't pull it out, it wasn't too hot. Given that the water didn't freeze on contact, it wasn't too cold, either. The boy immediately stripped his clothes off and tried to climb in. His legs were too short. Clint had to lift him in, using a blanket as a buffer. The boy submerged himself as much as he could, and Clint poured the warm water over his head, adding more hot water when it was needed.
The blue was slow to fade away, but it did. His eyes were the last to change back from blood-red to emerald green. When they did, Loki let out a sigh, his small body relaxing for the first time since... Clint didn't know when.
"Alright, this is getting cold and I don't want to keep adding hot water. The captain might have some sort of monitoring thing and try to charge me extra. Time to get out." The archer lifted the demigod out; Loki wrapped himself in the blanket and crouched near the radiator, shivering.
"You're just going to get cold again if you don't dry off."
Loki still didn't move, so Clint used the blanket to dry him off and then helped him dress again. Wrapping him in the thickest blanket available, the archer set the demigod near the radiator to stay warm. Then he went about emptying the basin.
"Are you going to start talking again?"
No answer.
"I guess that's a no, then. You might want to start soon," he continued as he worked. "I have no idea where we're going, or how to get back to earth. And Ver-Men will probably be able to follow us to wherever this ship is headed. I could use a little help."
Clint finished emptying the basin and turned. Loki was tucked into the blanket as far as he could go, shivering. And I bet it's not from the cold. Is he afraid that I'll stop seeing him so much as a child and hand him back over to Ver-Men if he starts talking?
"I want to get home. And I'm sure you do too."
There was a slight shift in Loki's posture that could be a nod.
"I'm going to need more than that."
Loki met his gaze. And very deliberately shook his head no.
"No I don't get more than that or no you don't want to go home?"
Absolute stillness.
"Alright," Clint sighed. "I'm taking the tub back to the kitchen. Stay here. Not that there's anywhere for you to go."
#
Several days later, Clint woke to find papers strewn all over the cabin floor. He blinked as he sat up. Loki was lying the in midst of the paper, his small body tense with concentration as he pressed a pencil to the sheet of paper he was bent over. The archer yawned and reached for the nearest paper. It was covered in dots.
"What is this supposed to be? And where'd you get paper?"
Loki ignored him, except to take the paper back and put it on the floor again. Clint shrugged, stepping around Loki's art as he made his way to the washroom. When he was done, he remerged to find the little boy pressing pages together, running down the creases to seal them together.
"Is this a giant connect the dots?"
Loki huffed out an annoyed breath, finished sealing the pages he was working on. He clamoured onto the bed and pressed a hand to the window. Clint arched a brow. Loki tapped the window.
"It's a star chart?"
Nod.
"Come off it. You can't possibly have that good a memory."
Loki glowered at him and then went back to his papers.
"Alright. If you think it'll help. Better than doing nothing. But we still have a while before we get to port, and you need to get some exercise. Come on. We're going for a walk."
Loki looked at him as if he was crazy.
"You heard me right. Let's go."
The boy turned his back and continued his work. Clint smirked, and caught him around the waist, picking him up.
"You're forgetting that you're tiny. You want to get back to work, then we go for a walk first. After six months on that ship we both need to regain some muscle tone."
Loki huffed in annoyance, but didn't struggle. Out in the corridor, Clint set him back on his feet. They walked along silently, Clint not feeling the need to fill the silence with idle chatter. They passed several crewmen who ignored them. After a few hours, they ran into the captain. She gave Clint a sideways glance and then looked at Loki. Her eyes narrowed.
"He looked different when you boarded."
"He was sick."
The captain's suspicious look moved to Clint. "He's not your son, is he?"
"Yes, he is," Clint replied stiffly. Loki's fingers curled into his trousers, so he picked the boy up and held him protectively.
"Hmmm. Where's his mother?"
"She died."
"Well, at least you were telling the truth when you said that he was quiet. Haven't heard a sound from him the whole trip."
Loki buried his face into Clint's shoulder.
"Yes, well..." Clint moved past her.
"Oh, by the way, we're making an unscheduled stop tomorrow. You'll have to leave the shop for a few hours. We need to vent the filters and flush the air system and there will be a toxic buildup until we get the system clean."
"Alright."
"The port's small, though, so you won't get lost. Food will not be provided."
Clint nodded. "Understood. Is there anything else I need to know?"
She shook her head.
"Thank you for letting us know. I'd better get my son back to our room now, though. It's about time for his nap."
Loki made a huffing, irritated noise but didn't move except to turn his head so it was resting on Clint's shoulder rather than hiding his face. The captain shrugged and walked away. Clint carried Loki back to their cabin; he was asleep by the time they got there. The archer navigated the papers strewn about and tucked the boy into the bed.
"Sleep well," he whispered, a small, fond smile slipping across his face as he remembered how he had often tucked Cindy into bed.
"Don't leave me, Clint," she whispered. "The Monster's gonna get me."
"There's no such thing as monsters, Cindy."
"Yep there is. It wants to eat me. If you don't stay I'm gonna die."
Clint laid down on the bed next to his little sister. "It's okay, Cindy. I'm here. There is no monster, but I'm going to stay anyway, okay? Just so that you don't get scared."
Cindy nodded and snuggled against him. "Love you, Clint."
"Love you too."
The smile slipped off Clint's face. The monster was real. And it had devoured his little sister.
He stepped away from the cot. Loki cried out in his sleep, thrashing about. He whimpered as though in pain. Clint went back to him, stroking his hair back from his face. "It's okay, Loki," he murmured, and the boy stilled, his little hand grasping Clint's sleeve and squeezing with all his strength. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."