Wow. It's been a really long time since I updated this. But hey, I'm almost up to 150 followers! You guys are awesome! And it's good to know people are still reading this even though I haven't updated in months. *guilty face*
Anyway, onto the long awaited chapter. Sorry if it seems rushed or weird or anything. I haven't thought too much about this story in forever.
The pattering of Clint's footsteps on the tile floor echoed his pounding heart, which was racing from both adrenaline and frustration. He was still mad at Natasha for lying to him. He'd trusted her. He...He'd liked her. They'd been having a conversation about that exact thing when he'd discovered the truth about her. Everything about her from the very beginning had been one huge freaking lie.
Sure, he knew he should probably be focusing on something else. Like Tony and Steve. Seriously, what was their problem? Or better yet, maybe he should be turning his thoughts to, I don't know, the weird happenings going on upstairs?
A voice interrupted his thoughts. Her voice. "Clint."
"What?" he snapped at her before he could even think about what he was saying. "What makes you think I'm going to listen to you?"
She skidded to a halt, turning her piercing emerald gaze on him. The submissive Natasha from yesterday was gone, replaced with the usual kickbutt, her-stare-makes-you-want-to-run-and-hide Natasha. "Look. I get that you're mad at me. I do. But don't you think it would be better to work together so we can solve this? The faster we do that, the faster we can get back to being enemies."
The final statement caused Clint to freeze in his tracks, his anger fading unrealistically fast. Yeah, he kind of hated her at the moment, but they weren't enemies...right?
"That, and you're going the wrong way. We need to go down this hall," she went on, gesturing with one hand toward the hall on her left where the others had already disappeared.
Clint was silent as he whirled on his heel and resumed his sprint down the specified hall, though that silence didn't last long. "Why did you lie to us? To me?"
Natasha easily kept pace with him, keeping her eyes fixed on the direction they were going. "I never lied to you, Clint."
All his rage came rushing back as fast as it had faded. "How can you even say that? Another lie! I can't believe it."
"Did you ever ask if I was part of the Red Room Gang?" Natasha asked, her voice surprisingly calm. "Did you ever ask if I was part of the Avengers Initiative?"
Okay, so she had a point. "But...But what about your name?" he stammered, grasping at straws. His anger was dissolving again. Dang, what was wrong with his emotions? "Your file said it was Natalia Romanova."
She finally turned to look at him, her eyebrows arched. "Natasha Romanoff is basically the English version of my Russian name, Barton."
Clint turned that over in his mind, feeling a little stupid that he hadn't put that one together. "Fine. Point for you. But if I'm going to forgive you, I expect an explanation. I want to know everything. Capiche?"
The sides of Natasha's mouth lifted ever so slightly as if she wanted to smile, but didn't want to risk it. "Understood."
He really did mean it. About the forgiving her part. He wanted to. All his anger had faded to be replaced with exhaustion. He was tired of keeping up this 'I hate Natasha' façade, even if there was some truth to it. He wanted to put this behind them and go back to being friends.
Huh. It was weird how he'd been so mad at her not five minutes ago and now he was wanting to forgive her. Was that normal?
No. No, it wasn't. Come to think of it, why was he wanting to forgive her? Had she even apologized yet? So that was kind of irrelevant, but it didn't matter. Clint's anger was coming back. It felt like ice encasing all the warm feelings he held towards Natasha.
If Clint had been in his right mind, he would have wondered why his mood kept swinging. As it was, he wasn't in his right mind and goshdarn it, part of him wanted to hash it out with Natasha right here and right now.
"Clint?" the very target of his tortured mind asked. "Are you okay?"
He wanted to wipe the concern right off her face. Why was she concerned about him? She didn't care. If she cared, she wouldn't have lied to him.
He was about to lose it and start yelling at her again, but just then the two arrived on the roof. And the sight wasn't good. It was enough to distract Clint from Natasha.
About a dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were frozen in various poses, scattered around the rooftop. Upon closer inspection, some looked shocked or betrayed while others were locked in defensive maneuvers, guns out or fists raised.
"Um...what the heck?" Yup. That was Clint. He liked how he was just as eloquent with words as Steve or Thor.
"Anyone have the 411 on Fury?" Tony spoke up, slowly making his way through the frozen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.
Clint's sharp eyes scanned the rooftop until he spotted motion on the opposite side of the space. To his surprise, it wasn't the Director he saw. It was Principal Coulson, and he was holding some sort of weird gun thing. Wait a second...
Clint narrowed his eyes. Was that a female S.H.I.E.L.D. agent holding a regular gun to his face? No, wait. The gun was elongating into something. A scepter? And the female was shifting into a...
Loki.
Clint didn't know how Phil had known the woman was Loki in disguise. All Clint knew was that the only man he had kind of possibly liked was having a stand off against a god. And that couldn't end well.
"Loki!" Thor cried, obviously debating whether it would be wise to approach the other god. "Brother, what are you doing?"
Ignoring his brother, Loki's eyes flicked from one member of the Avengers to the next (and was it just Clint, or did Loki's eyes stay on him a second longer than the others?). "Good, you're all here. I wouldn't want anyone to miss this."
For Coulson's credit, he didn't even bat an eye in the Avengers direction. He kept his gaze (and his gun thingie) focused on Loki. "Remember, this is just a prototype. Even I don't know what it does."
As he spoke, the weapon began to glow with a weird orange light. "Want to find out?"
What happened next occurred so fast, Clint almost missed it because he blinked. One second, Loki's scepter was being held innocently at his side. The next, it was lodged in Coulson's chest. But Phil didn't go down without a fight. At almost the exact time the scepter pierced his heart, he fired the weapon. Loki went flying back and, amazingly, managed to hang onto his scepter.
Though holding onto his scepter meant it was ripped from Phil's chest. Which meant blood began to gush from the wound.
"No!" nearly all the Avengers cried in unison. They rushed forward to gather around Phil.
All except Clint. He wanted nothing more than to join his friends, but his feet moved on their own accord. Instead of rushing toward their fallen mentor, he made a mad dash in the direction Loki had gone flying.
Wait, why was he helping Loki? The guy had just hurt Coulson. Coulson! And now Clint was reaching for Loki's hand since the god was clinging to the edge of the roof with his fingertips. Clint could feel his face relaxed in an impassive expression.
Loki's visage, on the other hand, was confident. "Very good, Clinton. I was beginning to think my scepter didn't work on you."
As Clint pulled Loki pack onto the roof, it all came rushing back to him.
He walks down the hall, his hands angrily shoved into his pockets. He knows walking away from his friends without discussing the new Avengers Initiative development is unreasonable, but he does it anyway. Needless to say, he isn't thinking about coming back to school tomorrow, even if it is going to be a Saturday. All he is thinking about is how Natasha had lied to them. And Fury still expects them to work well together? No way.
"Something on your mind, Clinton?"
Clint doesn't even bother to look up as he walks past the god. "Not now, Loki. I'm not in the mood."
"Perhaps I can lift your spirits."
Before he can react, Loki grabs his arm and twists it, causing Clint to let out a little moan of pain. Before he can fight back, he feels the cool metal tip of the scepter in Loki's hand press against his chest.
An overwhelming feeling of dizziness surges over him and he nearly collapses. "What was that, man? You trying to kill me or something?"
When his vision clears, he sees a look of genuine confusion in Loki's eyes. "That should have worked." He sighs, releasing Clint. "I hate Midgard."
Clint opens his mouth to reply, but Loki disappears in a flash of blue light. He rubs his brow, starting down the hall again. It is late, he is emotionally exhausted, and he wants to go home. Maybe he is hallucinating.
Eh, he decides he'll figure it out in the morning.
Clint flashed back to the present to catch Loki midsentence.
"-thought it was Midgard interfering with my magic," the god was saying as he brushed his hands against his clothing, trying to do something about the scorch marks from Coulson's weapon. "I'm glad to know you're just a late bloomer."
Clint took a breath to ask just what the heck Loki had done to him, but he found he couldn't speak. He found he could only stand at attention with that same emotionless expression on his face.
Mind control. Clint hated mind control. Okay, so he had never experienced it before, but he definitely hated it now.
"Come, Clinton," Loki said, leaning heavily against his new lackey. The weapon had hurt him more than he probably cared to admit. "Now that I don't have to worry about that man giving away my plans, we can get to work. I still don't understand how he figured it out."
Clint inwardly smiled, even as he unwillingly helped Loki escape. That was Principal Coulson. The man was a lot smarter than he let on.
Wait. He was helping Loki escape.
His friends were too busy tending to Phil. Clint wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and scream at them, "I've been compromised! Stop me! Loki's getting away!"
But all he could do was obediently get Loki through the roof access door and back into the school.
"Ah, Clinton." Loki smiled. "We're going to have such fun together."
