I'd like to take this moment to mention that I totally made a replica of Loki's scepter. That is all.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any characters associated with them.

A sharp gasp of pain shot from his throat, jarring him to his senses. Loki blinked, sight hazy, as he worked to determine where he was. Bright light met his eyes and he groaned, shutting out the outside world to escape the burning glow.

Everything hurt. Not a bad hurt, it was more like the soreness one felt after a good exercise. Except it was nothing like that. What did it feel like? It felt like someone had lit fire inside his chest and had let it ravage through his blood stream. His whole body felt burned.

The calming thrum of his magic filled his ears and soothed his pain. Although it was warm against his chest, it wasn't uncomfortable. Though, it did bear an odd similarity to the pain that felt like internal burns throughout his insides.

Other sounds filtered into his ears and he chanced another try at seeing without being blinded by the bright lights above him. He admittedly regretted it a second after opening his eyes and groaned again, pressing his palms against his tortured eyes. Something moved beside him. Loki almost immediately recognized the familiar presence beside him.

"What happened?" he muttered, annoyed at his scratchy voice.

"We defeated the Chitari," a gruff, but friendly and concerned voice answered after a moment. It was undeniably Thor's.

Loki wracked his brain in an attempt to recall all that had happened on that ship. Unfortunately, he could only remember up to the point when he pulled the remnants of his magic out of the ship. After that, everything was a giant haze of green, white, and black.

Ignoring the stinging in his eyes, he forced them open again, thankful that the warrior's form was blocking most of the light now.

"How?"

Thor smiled as he recalled the adrenaline of what had been most enjoyable for him.

"Although the ship was stronger than most, the ice had weakened its structure as well as its warriors inside," he began regaling. "Banner and I's combined strength fell the mighty beast and Stark was able to ensure a safe implosion that eradicated anything left."

The trickster squinted, confusion muddling his normally sharp thoughts. "Why would you and Banner destroy the ship if Stark could just destroy it from the inside?"

Laughing wholeheartedly at the younger's uncharacteristically dazed expression, the warrior went on, "For one, that is far less fun and for another, Stark was unaware he was able to do such a thing until after the ship began crashing towards the ocean."

For some annoying reason, Thor's words didn't seem to want to click in Loki's head. Instead, he sat on the medical cot with eyes full of confusion and thoughts still scattered. So the ship was destroyed, but hadn't he been in the ship? How had he escaped? Had the two assassins escaped? What had happened to them? What had happened to the Other?

Thor gently patted Loki's shoulder, all his questions going unanswered as the warrior spoke. "Sleep, brother. You have been through quite the tumult."

"But-" Loki protested, questions already forming on his tongue. A sudden weariness overwhelmed his senses and he thought he caught sight of a needle protruding from his arm. His eyes dropped and he welcomed the ebony that enveloped him, washing away the gnawing fire that continued to smolder in his veins.

Thor watched as the younger Asgardian fell victim to sleep once more, turning to meet the eyes of his friend.

"Will he be alright, Banner?"

Bruce turned from the table and smiled tiredly. "He should be. His body is buzzing with energy and any wounds I can only assume he had have already been healed. He just needs to rest up and he'll be fine."

The thunderer sighed and sat down on one of the plastic chairs, Mjolnir swinging by his side. "What am I to do, my friend?" he whispered, eyes distant.

Raising an eyebrow, the scientist answered with another question. "About what, Thor?"

His only answer was a hand gesture toward the comatose trickster on the bed. When that wasn't enough explanation, Thor went on, "Our only reason for coming to Midgard was to remove the magic within the Hawk. I could not have predicted all of this would've transpired. It is over and yet the magic remains," he sighed wearily, continuing, "When we return, my brother will still receive his original punishment for the crimes he committed here six months ago, and all of this will be forgotten."

Bruce bit his lip, mulling over the problem Thor had presented. "Well, can't you explain what happened? Isn't he supposed to go to Jotunheim until his crimes are paid for? Maybe this whole fiasco can replace that?" he offered hopefully, though there was doubt in his tone.

Thor raised his eyes, expression determined. "I will do all I can to help my brother. I have failed him in too many ways these past years. If he is to be banished to Jotunheim, then I will join him," he declared. He stood, addressing his friend once more. "My only regret would be that I would be unable to assist my fellow Avengers shouldst the need arise."

Waving it off, the scientist answered, "Do whatever you need to for him. I'm sure we can manage without you if you can't come."

The thunderer nodded his thanks, before pushing aside the door. "Thank you for caring for my brother, my friend."

Bruce dipped his head, fiddling with a vile in his hands. "Don't worry about it."

With a smile of gratitude, Thor left the room, leaving it silent and emptier with one less being within it.

He could feel it thrum against his chest now. It coursed excitedly through his veins with every shot, swelling giddily every time the arrow pierced the bull's eye with an unmistakable thud. Clint smirked. Now that he knew it was there, now that he could feel it, he was actually quite enjoying it.

It had only been a few days after the entire Chitari fiasco, and Loki had yet to awaken as far as he had been informed. The archer and his partner hadn't said a word about the love they'd revealed on the plane since it had landed. From what they knew of each other, for they knew each other better than they knew themselves, it was a love best kept secret.

Love may not be for children, but it was still just as exploitable.

The thought of Natasha sent the borrowed magic trilling against his mind, swirling through his chest and filling his body with energy. With another satisfied smirk, Clint rolled across the ground of the training arena, springing up from behind a crate and sending an arrow through the heart of a target with ease.

Light flooded the arena, crawling upward against the walls, indicating the end of another perfect round. The archer straightened, checking the clock mounted on the opposite wall. He decided that that was enough for today and collapsed his bow, moving to pull his arrows out of the numerous targets.

"You could put most elves to shame, Hawk," a scratchy voice spoke from beside the door.

Clint swiveled his head to the voice, surprised to meet emerald green eyes. He fought back the instant urge to nock an arrow and send it into the trickster's eye as the small amount of magic in him flared and thrummed against his chest. Furrowing his brow, he answered, "Uh, thanks." A beat of silence passed before he continued, "So, you feelin' better, Lokes?"

Rolling his shoulders, the aforementioned muttered, "Marginally."

Silence reigned again as Clint calculatingly moved around the room, sliding arrows out of their target's centers. He moved in such a way that his back was never toward the trickster. It was not because he didn't trust him after defeating the Chitari. It was just instinctual for him. The only people he ever had his back to purposefully were part of the Avengers or SHIELD.

"What happened?"

The sudden break of quiet, made Clint instantly tense. Forcing himself to calm, he raised his eyes to meet Loki's once more.

"Well," he began, "What do you remember?"

Loki's face turned upward from where he leaned in the doorway. He stared hard at the ceiling, eyes not quite focused and limbs twitching slightly.

"Light. There was light and burning."

He lowered his gaze again. "What do you remember, Hawk?"

The arrows clattered together as Clint gathered them together in his fist. Sliding them into his quiver, he pulled himself onto a crate and towards a target positioned higher than the others. He shrugged in answer to the question.

"Me and Nat ran into the control room and found you unconscious on the floor," he stated simply.

The trickster's eyes narrowed slightly. "And the Other?"

Clint bit his lip, dragging the stubborn arrowhead from its place in the bull's eye.

"Dead."

He could've sworn he heard Loki's entire body relax from where he stood on the other side of the room.

"Your escape?"

Jumping off the high platform, the archer landed with effortlessness, straightening and moving toward the exit.

"They didn't tell you anything, did they?" At the trickster's annoyed scoff, he continued, "We went through the window and landed on the back of a plane."

Emerald green eyes widened. "I was unaware Midgardians were so…reckless."

Clint shrugged offhandedly. "There wasn't any other feasible option."

Another awkward silence was held between them. The archer was quite certain the trickster still had more to say, but did not openly inquire. Instead, he waited for him to break the silence.

"What about myself?" Loki muttered finally, eyes still somewhat hazy.

"Oh, that." Right, he should've expected that question. The trickster couldn't remember anything after going unconscious, after all. With a dismissive tone, Clint answered, "I carried you and you almost fell off the plane when we landed on it."

The trickster's head canted to the side, mind still jumbled with fog and eyes narrowed.

"Why would you do that?" he mumbled. "You could've just left me."

Forcing himself to remain nonchalant about the entire ordeal, Clint responded with a shrug. "I'm an Avenger now." Blue grey eyes lifted to meet hazy emerald green. "That wouldn't have been right. After all, you did kinda save our lives."

An odd sort of agreeable feeling settled into the room at his proclamation. Loki's fingers twitched again and he twisted and turned them together.

"Thank you," he finally murmured.

Clint smiled naturally, his tone remaining casual. "Seriously, don't worry about it. It's my job." His eyes hardened, and his smile turned to a dark smirk. "Don't think this erases everything from six months ago, though."

A mischievous smirk slipped onto the trickster's face. "Of course."

"If anyone is going to kill you it's going to be me, not some alien."

Loki let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. "I'm sorry to tell you, Hawk, but someone else has already claimed me in that respect."

"Then I'll join him."

"Her."

"Oh, well that changes things," the archer chimed, his smirk turning roguish. "Then I'll make sure you two fall in love."

Another sarcastic laugh bit through the air, fully conveying the trickster's opinion on Clint's plans. "That only occurs in fairy tales."

"You are a fairy tale."

Loki huffed, though a smile played on his lips. Something passed through his eyes and he seemed to suddenly remember why he had come down to the training arena in the first place.

"My magic still remains within you, Hawk," he stated, eyes drifting to the archer's heart.

Realization flicked through Clint's eyes as he understood what was about to happen. "Oh, yeah. That's why you came here in the first place, right?"

At the affirming nod, he sighed and walked up to the trickster until he was only a foot away. "Well, let's get it over with."

Something flickered through emerald green eyes and Loki furrowed his brow in thought as he straightened. "Wait a moment," he remarked before setting a gentle hand slowly against the archer's chest. Clint flinched away instinctively, but relaxed after a moment.

He could feel the magic in him swirl around the trickster's touch, but it did not leave. It remained, continuing to trill against his eardrums and thrumming against his chest. The spot where Loki had set his hand began to feel like it was burning and the archer ground his teeth together. Slowly, all the magic in him began to be pulled toward the contact point.

Just as he was about to ask if that was what was supposed to happen, Loki jerked his hand away, eyes wide and amazed.

"I didn't think it could do that within that timeframe…" he whispered almost to himself.

Clint narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Do what?"

"Adapt," his answer was stated simply. "Only six months and it has adapted fully to its new host…"

Confusion was expressed fully across Clint's face. "Uh, explanation please?"

Loki leaned against the doorframe again, running a hand across his face. "It's not my magic anymore, it's yours," he started. "The tether remains, so I'll have to sever that, but I can't remove it from you without extreme pain. Not to mention that once you have magic dwell within you, if it is taken away the feeling left behind is something…unimaginable."

Understanding flickered through blue grey eyes. "So, you aren't removing it?"

Green fire flared to life in Loki's hand in response to his question. His once foggy green eyes suddenly sharpened to their normal vivid emerald orbs. With a snap of his wrist, it formed the crude shape of a blade. Taking a step back, the trickster gripped the glowing, magic fueled knife in his hand and swung it upwards.

A loud, terrible snap reverberated throughout both of their minds. Clint stumbled back as something suddenly collided into his head. He groaned and rubbed his ringing ears. When he looked up, he caught sight of Loki also recovering from what he assumed felt like a blow to the head.

"O-okay," the recovering trickster stuttered, "That hurt more than I expected."

The thrum against his chest suddenly flared to life again, more vibrant and excited than before. The assassin subconsciously lifted a hand to his chest, the humming slowing in response to his touch. He blinked. It felt…different somehow.

"What did you do?" he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

Loki massaged his temple, eyes once again hazy. "Broke the tether," he answered plainly.

One blank, confused stare met his explanation and he sighed. "When I first turned you, I realized halfway through the process that Chitari mind control wouldn't be nearly enough to sway your stubborn will." His eyes grew distant. "You were an untamed creature, I needed more than what was given me to turn you."

"So I used my magic and embedded it within your mind. As I was under the Chitari influence myself, I forgot I had done this until only recently."

Slowly, understanding clicked within blue grey eyes. He hadn't been weak. All this time when he had been kicking himself over being weak enough to succumb to the Chitari mind control had been in false assumption. He had been far from weak. What made normal men kneel couldn't even faze him. It had taken all of the scepter's power alongside mythical magic to make him fall victim to the bidding of the Chitari.

He was strong.

Despite himself, Clint smiled and shook his head. The one who had been the source of his self reprimand now countered it and had made him realize that he wasn't as weak as he thought.

With a sigh, the archer looked back to the trickster. "And the tether is why we saw through each other's eyes?"

"That I have yet to determine," Loki muttered with an irritated tone, as if he was annoyed with himself for not having figured that out yet. "But it is the reason I came here and now that it is dealt with I must return to Asgard with my brother."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "You calling him your brother now?"

The trickster snorted, but his eyes betrayed his lack of disdain. "I'm too weary to think of an insult right now."

"Now, that's just an excuse," the archer shot back, a roguish smile playing on is lips. "So, you're just gonna leave and not remove your magic from my mind?"

"It has adapted to you now, Hawk," Loki said, eyes shining vividly for a moment. "It isn't mine anymore. It's yours."

"Glad to know I got something out of this," he muttered under his breath, though his tone was far from condescending. "But what am I supposed to do with it? You said yourself, there's not enough there for me to do much."

"Yet, there is enough for you to accomplish a great deal," replied the silvertongue with a smile. "That is, if you are willing to try."

"You offering to teach me?" Clint asked, slight sarcasm in his voice.

Rolling his eyes, his answer was short, "Ha. No."

"Then, what am I supposed to do with it?"

Loki glanced around quickly, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Soft, yellow green light gathered around his hand, brightening until it was shrouded beyond sight. Slowly, the light dissipated, replaced with a medium sized, leather bound book.

Fingering the cover for a moment as if reminiscing, Loki tossed it to the archer across from him. Clint caught it deftly, eyes curious.

"You won't be able to do much past the first few chapters," the trickster said quietly, turning to leave. "But it will serve you well."

Clint scrutinized the old tome, noting the wild and excited thrum against his chest at the proximity of the book. "Where did you get this?"

"The place between places," Loki answered with a shrug and casual tone.

With sincerity in his voice and curiosity still sparkling in his grey blue eyes, Clint responded with a quiet, "Thank you."

He turned it over in his hands, eyes roving across it concisely. He didn't miss the way the other room's occupant seemed to continually glance at it longingly. Arching an eyebrow, he wondered, "You don't need it anymore?"

A shadow passed over the silvertongue's eyes. "Not where I'm going."

Something clicked in the archer's mind as he remembered something he had been told while Loki was comatose. "Your punishment…"

Nodding solemnly in response, the trickster straightened from his position, turning to leave. "One I suppose I am due to return to. With the tether gone, I have no more excuse to remain here."

Tucking the tome under his arm, Clint followed him out the door. "Why can't you just stay here?"

Laughing sarcastically, Loki bit out a response, "As if your world would have me."

A roguish smirk found its way onto the archer's face once more. "They don't have to know."

"There's also the matter of Heimdall," the trickster continued as if uninterrupted. "He would surely inform the king of my rebellion, not to mention that Thor would not leave Midgard without me…the sentimental ox."

Clint had to bite back a laugh at the insult, managing to keep a casual air. "Sounds to me like you're not even gonna try to get out of it."

"It's already been decided," Loki muttered uncaringly. "No use in trying to defy it."

"Oh, please," he said with an eye roll. "How many decisions have you defied in your lifetime? I'm pretty sure you've already defied you original punishment seeing as you're pulsing with magic right now when you shouldn't have any."

Loki suddenly stopped his gait, realization sinking into his mind at the archer's words. His magic. If it was all inside of him, then it certainly wasn't in Gungnir. That meant someone had released it and it had come careening through the realms to crash into his chest. But who had the authority to even get near Gungnir? His mother was a possibility, but she couldn't have released it. Only the one who put it there could've freed it.

Odin. The king. His father.

Why in all the nine realms would Odin free his magic? What possible purpose could that have served? The only solution was that someone else had been involved, someone else had influenced him. His mother? She was the most likely candidate, but she wouldn't have persuaded her husband had she not known his situation and the only one who knew his situation was Heimdall, the gatekeeper.

That didn't make any sense. Why would Heimdall care about his wellbeing? They both knew he was to die on Jotunheim, magic or not. What difference would it have made had he mysteriously disappeared into the Chitari's clutches?

Perhaps the gatekeeper knew something he had not. Maybe, he knew the Chitari's intentions and had sent the queen to persuade her husband into aiding him. Or possibly he felt it was his duty to protect the wayward prince.

Or maybe it was because he had seen what had happened to Baldr and moved to prevent the trickster from falling into the alien's clutches once more.

Baldr. His sweet, bright eyed little brother. How had that innocent teen fallen into the atrocities of the Chitari?

"Uh, you okay, Green Eyes?"

Clint's voice stirred him from his reverie and blinked, an annoying fog hovering over his vision. The trickster glanced to the archer that walked aside him, eyebrow raised.

"I'm fine," he lied. He wasn't fine, not with what he was about to face back in Asgard, but he could certainly pretend he was fine. He had always been good at faking appearances; being that which he was not.

Blue grey eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Clint said nothing more. He discreetly fell behind and turned a corner, following the hallway to the stairs leading to the main living room. Skipping a step as he bounded up effortlessly, Clint pondered the exchange that had just taken place.

Magic from the being that had stolen his mind now dwelled within it, seemingly his to control. However, Loki's word was all he had to go off of. As much as he didn't trust the liesmith's words, there wasn't much else he could do. The thrum against his chest wasn't something so easily removed.

Not that he wanted it gone. The excited trill was oddly comforting, something he had quickly gotten used to. It beat in time with his heart and moved according to his emotions; flaring to a consuming flame when he was angry, swirling comfortingly and with a song when he was sad, and trilling vibrantly when he was excited.

He also noticed small changes within him because of that simple hum. His wounds healed quicker, his sight somehow sharper, and mind more acute.

The thrum against his chest was definitely something he could get used to.

This is not at all what I had originally planned, but I like this much better, so whatever.

There's also only one more chapter after this! Almost done, guys! Woo!

Thanks for reading, and fro all the reviews! I love you guys! ^^