I must beg apologies. In the last chapter, a lot did not transfer over.
It has been edited and restored fully.

Thank you.

Hawkeye looked quizzically at his teacup. "Uh, no really," he said, looking up at them. "The guy is a nutter, but I know his tricks. If he had tried to pull anything, its not like he could have flown you off; I would have disabled his transport and intercepted him. I've fought bigger and worse." He added. Although his attempts were sincere, the two Englishmen were unconvinced. Sherlock and John sat with their arms crossed, staring him down. Bright pale and dark cloudy blue eyes pierced him.
Hamish hadn't left his room since Loki left. It was almost midnight now, and Hawkeye had been patrolling the perimeter. Finding nothing, he had come to let these two know, when they'd yanked him in for an interrogation. With tea, apparently.
The American shifted uncomfortably and put the tea aside. "Look," he said firmly. "Loki is trying to pull something. He has a plan, he always does. He's got that girl to do his bidding, and he's coming back for your son. But nowhere near anytime soon. When he was lost, he was flung through a portal made by the tesseract. It threw him through dangerous worlds. He was beaten badly, and didn't try very hard to hide it."

"Yes," Sherlock said sharply. "I noticed him trying to pretend a limp, as well as move sluggishly to throw us off, but he had no trouble lifting Hamish into his arms. And he didn't seem agitated when moving any of his limbs, not even while sitting down for long periods of time, which means any joint damage that should have occurred in the struggle was either mended or fended off."
"He doesn't have the power to face anyone, even if he is mended," Hawkeye protested. "He has no staff, no tesseract, nothing but his illusions."
Leaning forward, the detective glared at him. "His illusions can make you walk in front of a car or fall into a manhole, then he'd be long gone by the time you recovered," he snapped. "He is pretending to be conflicted and injured so we won't follow him to see what he's really planning, and you're babysitting the three of us when its already clear we're safe."
"If he is planning something, Stark will want me to wait for the others." Hawkeye replied calmly. "If I'm not here to protect you and he does return, you'll be defenseless. If he gets me out of the way, there is a good handful of days between you and the Avengers. They won't be here in time to save your son if Loki kills me."
John shook his head. "If he won't come back until he's recharged, why wait? If he's not strong enough yet, why stay with us when you know he's plotting?" He questioned adamantly.

"Because I'm a trained agent, and Stark gave me an order to defend this place and all of you in it," Hawkeye told him sincerely. "I can't just leave. None of you have any combat ability against the supernatural. And Loki is not just any soldier. He's unpredictable. Merciless. If I went looking for him and he came back here, he would use his magic to either injure or kill you, and he would take your boy by force." He sighed. "He could be doing any number of things. And if he has the girl, who knows how many people he has under his charge? How many kids he's convinced to follow him? He will weave a web of lies and sit himself in the center, and we'll all be ensnared if we don't do this exactly as we should."
John shook his head and rested his hand under his nose. Sherlock took a deep breath, glancing between them. "All right," he said gently. "You can remain. But the second Stark arrives, send him to me." Then he got up and began to pace. "I'll call Mycroft." He vanished outside and John stared after him.
"Mycroft? Damn. This must be bad." He said shakily, putting his face in his hands.

Hawkeye reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Everything will be fine, Mr. Watson. Stark will gather the others and we will make sure Loki is caged before we go back. Maybe that way even if he gets away, he'll be stuck."
John looked up at him sheepishly and nodded. "I bloody hope so," he replied.
Sighing, Hawkeye pushed his hands on his knees and got up. "I'll go make my rounds again. Try not to leave the vicinity; that's our best bet of defending your son. Thank you for the tea." With that he was gone, out the window and scaling the roof.
John got up and cleared the dishes. Then he looked to Hamish's room. He was probably asleep by now, exhausted by the day. He'd let him rest. Going to the couch, he picked up his laptop and pulled up another empty blog page. He clicked the 'Title Here' box and labeled it, 'A Lost God.'