Last Time On BPoT:
Odin takes her chilled hand in his larger one. "Has the loom shown anything more to tell us of his fate?"
"No. It remains silent on this."
Of course, it does.
"And Thanos?" he asks.
"He reaches the border of the Realms now. Soon, his touch will be felt by all."
"I must ready our patrols then."
Frigga squeezes his hand gently. "A letter, sent with the group bound for Earth would not be amiss, my husband. If you cannot go to Loki, at least send him word of your love."
Odin kisses the back of her hand. Then he lets go, grabs Gungnir, and departs without another word. He will leave Frigga to her work, and attend to his own.
And Now:
It's been a year. Over a year, in fact, and Clint is still barred from physically seeing Loki! Like actively blocked by Tasha's stern presence, Jarvis monitors, and Bruce/Hulk. It's beyond unreasonable!
0/0/0/0/0
"Late night stroll?" Nat asks him as she suddenly appears at Clint's side. Clint stiffens, resisting the urge to lash out at the unexpected presence. Nat knows he hates when she does it, so the fact that she is means she's ticked at him. Again.
Clint side-eyes her. Her eyebrow rises. He shrugs and smiles. "You know, me."
"I do." She glances down at the bow in his hand, and then at Loki's bedroom door.
Clint's grip on his weapon tightens. "I just came off a scouting trip. I was going to leave it outside."
"I know."
"Nat…" Clint looks her full in the eyes. "I need this."
"He's not ready."
"It's been over a year!" Clint hisses, stepping forward.
"Are we measuring now? Is a year enough time to recover trauma?"
"You know I didn't mean it like that."
"No?"
Clint's shaking down to his boots at this point. "I didn't off him at that Hydra base, did I? Didn't put the fear of Clint in him, or whatever it is you all think I'm going to do. I was a good, little agent. Doesn't that prove anything?"
Nat remains unmoved by Loki's bedroom door. "You can put aside your emotions for the mission."
"But this is too personal, that it?"
Her silence is answer enough.
"Fine." Clint whirls around. He feels the brush of Nat's fingertips on his shoulder, and ducks them. He glares back at her. "Don't."
0/0/0/0/0
Clint likes to think he's a pretty patient guy, but he's reached his limit now.
Ergo, why he's stalking down the empty tower's hallways. The team's out fighting the newest baddie of the month. But, of course, Clint just had to go and twist his ankle last night. How, you ask? How! Because the world hates him, that's how/why.
And, so, he's grounded for a few days – he's not stupid enough to fight the orders. Oh, he'll exercise and scout round the tower more than Phil will like, but even Clint knows when a few days rest will get him more than rebellion.
But this also gives him plenty of time to realize he's still not trusted by anyone, not with Loki, at least.
Never mind that the alien is pretty well stable right now – minus some majorly freakish flashbacks. Let's forget that Clint would really like to resolve things between the two of them. Oh, and who cares about the fact that Loki's probably going to croak soon – so Clint doesn't really have that much time to talk to him anyway. Nope, let's just wag our fingers and shake our heads, and say 'bad, Clint, you're too impatient'.
Clint grinds his teeth.
What do they know?
Were they the one being brainwashed?
Sometimes, that feeling of something wrong crawling in his head overwhelms him. Not that he'd tell them that. They'd bench him faster than Thor goes for ale.
Did they have to kill some of their own friends and colleagues?
He remembers every strike, every blow, every last gasp. Agent Thomas' look of betrayal when he shoots him in the head, Agent Diana's sadness as his knife slits her throat, and Agent Heide's anger when he kicks her off the side of the Helicarrier; those will probably always haunt him, not to mention all the rest of the deaths too.
Do the other Avengers have nightmares about being controlled?
Clint shuts down that thought. Fast. Takes a deep breath in through his nose, and exhales out his mouth. Does it several times. Right. He needs to get up higher. He always thinks better in his 'nest spots'.
A small grin grows.
Clint knows just the place to go.
He pulls up into a vent and army crawls his way up four levels.
Poking his head out, Clint scans the ground below. Good. No one's here. Not that they'd really think to look up at the rafters in the gym, but…Clint would rather not risk it. He really needs some quiet time to think things out, figure out a way to convince Phil he's okay to see Loki.
Clint swing softly down onto the highest, metal rafter.
Only to freeze.
Loki's no more than one rafter below him. The alien's dressed in some grey sweats and red t-shirt (that whole thing about him only wearing green is a total lie, Clint found out). Loki's hair is tied up in a high ponytail, which most would think would be girly, but somehow manages to come off as samurai-ish. Clint glares at him.
Of course, Loki has to decide on the one day Clint wants his favorite spot, to just take it.
Typical.
Clint debates leaving. He is under orders, after all, to avoid contact. Clint grins wide. Since when has he ever listened to orders, especially if he knows they're unfair or wrong? Clint nods. Exactly. Never.
He touches down on Loki's rafter.
The alien doesn't move, not even a twitch.
Clint wonders if that means he's afraid. Trying to pretend to not notice him, so that he, Loki, can escape quicker. The man's tensed enough for it to be true.
"Hey," Clint says, and is proud of how calm it comes out.
No answer.
Well, that's just rude.
"Up for a talk?" he asks. Let it never be said he can't be the bigger man. He knows a chance when he sees one.
But Loki still doesn't answer, or move.
Clint frowns. Is the guy being rude, or is something up?
He inches forward.
And immediately takes in how fast Loki is breath, how raspy he sounds, how his eyes are unfocused on some spot across the roof.
Oh boy…flashback.
And he without a Thor around to help.
Clint reaches into his vest pocket, pulls out the little ear piece, and calls the one person he knows who might be able to help.
"I'm a little busy, Agent Barton," Phil's voice scratches through the ear piece. Clint winces at the name – Phil uses it only when he's upset at an interruption, or some disrespect gone on too long. Clint forges on.
"Loki's having a flashback. Don't think it's super bad, but he's totally out of it."
Silence.
Then: "Did you find him like this?"
Translation, did you cause this to happen?
"Was just crawling through the vents now, and saw him." Clint watches as a shudder ripples down Loki's frame. The pale face pinches tight. "Coulson, I think it might be trying to get worse."
"Thor can't be reached."
"I figured. What do I do?"
"Don't touch him."
"No duh."
"Clint," Phil warns firmly.
"Yes, sir." Clint shifts his weight to his left. "Should I attempt any verbal contact?"
Something bangs on the other end. "I'll be there in ten. Keep up your surveillance. Alert me to any changes."
"Will do. We're in the gym." Clint turns off the ear piece, though he keeps it in his ear, just in case things hit the fan.
A tiny sob escapes Loki, a couple shivers follow, and then, all at once, Clint has two green eyes staring him down. They're clear now. Haunted, yes, but focused. Oh boy, are they focused.
"Agent Barton," Loki says.
"So, they tell me."
Loki looks back to his favored spot across the roof. "So cavalier to one who dismantled your mind."
A bait. Raw, wriggling, and oh so tempting to bite. Clint swings his legs on either side of the rafter. Doesn't miss how Loki's eyes tight at edges. Yep, lots of fear over on that side of the rafter.
"I guess you could say I am," Clint acknowledges. "Had plenty of time to compartmentalize stuff."
"A useful trait."
"Yeah." Clint itches to play with one of his vest's hidden knives, anything to keep his hands busy, but he knows it'll only exacerbate the situation. Guy doesn't need to see him with a weapon in hand. Instead, Clint grabs hold of a beam attached to the rafter. "You up for a chat?"
Loki's eyebrow twitches. "Yes."
Clint's not buying it, but he'll give Loki an out, for now. "Cool."
A few seconds pass.
"Probably should introduce myself," Clint says. "Hawkeye."
He's not quite ready for a first named basis yet.
Loki dips his head a bit, like he's imitating some sort of bow…which, for all Clint knows, he could be. "Loki Odinson, Laufeyson."
"What do you remember?" somehow shoots out of Clint's mouth next. Great. That wasn't how he wanted to lead with in his first ever real conversation with Loki.
"Many things," Loki says, still looking forward. "And then nothing. I remember my childhood as if it were happening now. I remember my…fall. I remember all of your teammates help in my recovery."
"But?"
"I cannot recall my attack on your world." Loki's eyes narrow. "No matter what spell I use, I am refused access."
Huh.
Interesting.
Clint didn't know magic could refuse to obey you. Kinda creepy, actually. Makes magic seem alive. Clint represses a shudder. "That's…"
Clint trails off. Anything he says will sound condescending. So…yeah. This sucks. So, he sticks to something a little safer in topic. "I didn't know magic could refuse to be used."
For a few seconds, almost a minute, it seems as if Loki's not going to answer. Clint starts to wonder if he's gone into yet another flashback.
"It is alive, and yet not so." Loki says, taking in a shallow breath. "It vibrates through the very veins of time and space. It feeds off of it. And sometimes…sometimes it allows itself to be courted by a select few."
"Soooo…it has favorites?"
"In a manner of speaking." Loki's long fingers spasm. "It might be more accurate to say it has playthings."
Okay, yeah, that right there is just freaky. Clint's getting all kinda of horror movie vibes right now. Like Carry or Exorcist type vibes. His grip on the rafter beam tightens. "That's…gotta be honest, man, that's freaky."
"Indeed," Loki says. "Those who dare to look into its depths are forever changed. Depending on its mode, they can be driven insane."
"That what happened to you? You look too long?"
"Yes…and no." Loki blinks. "I have dipped into its waters for centuries, competing in its game for dominance. I was one of the best in all the realms, until…"
Clint's willing to bet a thousand dollars that Thanos is the 'until' part. Titan probably made Loki's magic twist the Jotun into the wreck they have here. No wonder not many humans have magical abilities. If what Loki is saying can be trusted…yeah, humans are much better off without the stuff.
Clint starts to say something, but suddenly a huge, blue and green cloud booms into existence in midair. Clint's pushed off the rafter, and its only his many years of training that saves him when he lands. He glances up. Loki's still sitting on the rafter. Figures. Of course, Jotun bodies are denser or whatever.
From the writhing cloud a gorgeous woman steps out. Her red hair plays round her flawless face like slithering snakes. How, Clint's not sure, there's not even a hint of a breeze in the room. A cruel smile grows on her lips.
"Loki, my dearest, it's been too long."
Great!
Just great!
More people who hate or wanna use the guy.
The universe hates them.
"Lorelei," Loki says flatly.
"Now, now, no need for that tone." Lorelei bats her eyelashes. "I'm here to save you."
"I think not," Loki says.
"And why's that, my dearest? Have I given you reason to think this?"
"Always."
"Well," Lorelei chuckles. "That is true."
"I take it the nobles are displeased."
Lorelei preens. "And this is why you are my favorite companion."
Clint's had enough. He discretely sends Phil a distress signal, before pulling out a knife. "I don't know who you are, lady, but Loki's not going anywhere with you."
She glances down at him. "How quaint, you still have loyal thralls."
Ok, that's it, she's so going down. Clint is nobody's thrall, or servant, or their anything. He is his own man, thank you very much.
Lorelei steps daintily down through the air. "I think…yes…It will be advantageous."
Clint backs up.
She waves a hand and then…Clint shakes his head as something…No! Clint panics. Not again. It's different, but Clint can tell something's trying to take over his mind again. No, no, no, no! Not again. No! he can't…go…
She's gorgeous, his angel in green.
Clint melts at her smile.
"Help me with him, beloved," she asks, pointing to Loki.
"Of course, ma'am."
"Let him go, Lorelei," Loki demands.
Clint throws a knife at the alien. It shimmers through an illusion. The real Loki appears inches from him, grabs his wrists and twists them up behind him back. Lorelei giggles.
"No," she says. "I rather like him."
"Now, Lorelei."
"Only if you promise to come with me."
"…very well."
Lorelei dances over to Loki and kisses him on the cheek. A green mist wafts between them, and Loki releases Clint. The archer ribs his wrists.
"You…promised…" Loki struggles.
Lorelei smiles and kisses him again. "I lied."
Loki blinks as more green mist crawls into his pores. His tense posture loosens.
"Come," Lorelei says. "we have much to accomplish."
Clint follows her through the blue cloud, Loki close at his heels.
Dum, dum, duuuum! Cue dramatic fade out! Le gasp, Loki AND Clint have been captured. Oh no!
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