The world was a blurry mix of swirling purples and cloudy blues, all messily seeping into each other like colors from dropped paint buckets. Clint shook his head wildly, trying to dislodge the spacey feeling where his brain should have been.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha's cool voice cut through the haze. Clint found a splotch of red sitting next to him that could only be her hair.

"Shitty." He admitted. "Are you mad?"

Nat was quiet. She got up and began preparing something behind Clint's hospital bed, but he was still able to see her face.

"I've gotta flush him out, Nat."

"That's going to take time."

"You don't understand." Clint was sweating, and he pulled against the restraints on his bed in an attempt to gain some form of control. "Have you ever had someone take out your brain and play?"

Nat paused.

"Play around," Clint continued, "And stuff something else in?" Clint looked at her pleadingly, and though she was trying to maintain her cool and her back was turned, her hands were trembling ever-so-slightly. Clint needed to help her understand that this wasn't like a S.H.I.E.L.D. drug. This had been something otherworldly, something that had held hostage his consciousness and put not-Clint in its place. And that it could happen again.

"You know what's behind me."

Nat turned to look at him, and set down the glass Clint just realized she had been pouring. Was it some sort of truth serum?. Even better, maybe she was making a water glass with cyanide. It would only be what he deserved, for becoming a filthy traitor.

But Nat only picked up the glass again. "You know I do."

"Then why? Why am I back? How did you get him out?"

Nat shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "Oh, a couple of concussions."

Clint raised a brow. "A couple? My head feels like it got run over by semi. Twice." A pregnant pause filled the air. "Thanks."

Nat sat on the end of the medical bed and began undoing the straps holding down Clint.

"Nat-" He tried to warn her.

"Don't."

Clint stared up at the ceiling. He idly asked, "So how many agents are outside?"

Nat sat up and stared him in the eyes. "Don't do this to yourself, Clint. It was Loki, and magic, and it wasn't you."

"Loki. Did he get away?" Clint grilled.

"I don't suppose you know where?"

Clint dropped her stare and shook his head. "He didn't tell me. I didn't ask. But… he's going to make his play soon. Today." He reached for the glass of water behind him and took a sip, allowing the cool liquid to clear his still-jumbled thoughts. No cyanide.

Nat put her hands on her hips and peered quietly out of the door, before turning around, a look of hard determination in her eyes. "We've gotta stop him."

"Who's we?"

"I don't know," Nat said, frustrated. She bit her lip and threw her hands up. "Whoever's left."

Clint was quiet for a moment. Natasha ran a hand through her hair before coming to sit down beside him on the bed. Clint turned to her, "I would sleep better if I could put an arrow through his eyes, I suppose."

She smiled. "Now you sound like you."

Clint shrugged. "But you don't. You're a spy, not a soldier. Yet you still want to wade into a war." He turned to study her face. "Why?"

"What did Loki do to you?"

Natasha's throat worked, trying to swallow an invisible, intangible pill. "He didn't- He just…" She recomposed her features. "I've been compromised. I got red on my ledger."

Clint raised a brow.

"I'd like to wipe it out."

"Strife, you're needed in the infirmary. The Hulk is-"

"Got it."

Cloud shoved away his feelings and walked away from the table. Casting magic… Something physical he could do. It'll work, for now.

He walked down the empty hallways, thinking of how his last conversation with Coulson had been over something as stupid as his loner tendencies. I should've said something, I should've done something… I'm such an ass.

In spite of Fury's blatant manipulation, Cloud knew he couldn't just sit by anymore. Coulson had wanted him to start getting along with his teammates, so by Gaia he would. He'd be the most chipper fucking person on the team, if that's what he had to do. No, that felt too much like disrespect. Coulson had wanted Cloud to get along with the others, not Zack.

Unthinkingly, Cloud slammed his fist into the wall. The metal caved like paper-mache under his strength. How am I supposed to do this alone?

Cloud pulled his hand away from the metal and schooled his face into a blank expression before continuing down the hallway. He and Coulson hadn't been that close, but Cloud still felt as though it was another sin to add to his list of failures. Zack and Aerith's deaths were both sore spots, but they had died for something. Coulson had died for nothing, and that probably hurt the most. He was just gone, because Cloud had once again failed to protect someone he cared about.

"Strife."

Cloud paused, glancing over his shoulder. There stood Stark, arms crossed and looking like he had something to say. Cloud didn't want to hear it. He continued forward.

"Cloud."

"What is it, Stark?"

"Call me Tony."

"I have somewhere to be."

"I know. But Bruce can wait."

Cloud turned around and crossed his arms, brow furrowed. "What?"

Stark, no, Tony appeared slightly uncomfortable. "Well… I know that look on your face. I see it a lot."

Cloud whirled back around. He didn't want to talk about this right now, or ever, actually.

"I just want to say… It's not your fault."

Cloud furrowed his brow and grit his teeth. "What would you know?"

Tony tapped his fingers on his arm, avoiding eye contact. "I know because we all knew Coulson. He was a friend to me, to Cap, to Romanoff, to all of us. But I know that blaming yourself isn't going to do any good, because I know he wouldn't have blamed any of us, in those last few seconds. At least…" The air was heavy and thick, overly oppressive on Cloud's lungs. "I'm trying to believe that."

The consolation didn't make it hurt any less, but it did take off the edge. Cloud considered Tony for a second. "He wouldn't have blamed you either." Cloud rubbed his arm. "That's not the kind of man he was, I think."

They stood in silence for a second. "Your right. He was an idiot, for trying to take on Loki alone. But… he was brave, I'll give him that." Cloud didn't have it in him to fight about this right now. "You better get to Banner." Tony finally said.

"Yeah." Cloud turned to leave, but paused. "Thanks, Tony."

"Back at you."

Bruce was looking right awful when Cloud got to him. His skin was sickly green instead of the jade Cloud was coming to associate with The Hulk, and sweat matted his hair to his forehead as he convulsed on the white sheets of the bed.

"Damn!" Cloud swore, quickly slotting in the correct materia. He had forgotten about the Bio3.

He cast a quick Poisona on Bruce, which thankfully calmed him down some, before trying to cast Sleep again. It slid off of Bruce like a sheet of water. I guess he's immune in this form too.

Bruce cracked his eyes open, staring at him blearily. He brought a hand up to rub at his eyes before groaning loudly. "Cloud?" He asked, voice gravelly.

"Welcome back." Cloud greeted, a small smile threatening to pull at his lips. Instead he handed Bruce a glass of water from the bedside table. He greedily drank it all in under thirty seconds, even with some spluttering, before weakly setting it down again. Cloud sat down in a visitor's chair, taking off First Tsurugi's harness so as to be more comfortable.

"When I got called down here, I thought I might have to subdue you again."

Bruce scratched his head, before glancing at Cloud confusedly, "How did you do that, by the way? The big guy was equally angry and impressed."

Cloud shrugged. "A couple spells. Nothing too flashy."

Bruce rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, but how?"

Cloud stared at him a second, debating whether or not to spill, before mentally shrugging and unslotting his Seal materia. It didn't seem to work on Bruce anyway, so he felt safe enough handing it to him.

Bruce held the orb, fascinated. He turned it this way and that while Cloud watched bemused. "What's it made of?" Banner asked.

"Mako." Cloud answered.

"Mako?"

"It's an energy source where I'm from. The blood of the planet."

Bruce continued studying the orb, rolling it between his hands. "How does it work? Where do you harvest it?"

Cloud rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, uh… You've got to, sort of, push your energy into it, in order to cast anything I mean. But it's pretty hard for non-SOLDIERs. It takes a lot of energy. Usually other species like the Cetra are better at it than humans, but… You don't have any of those here. We get mako at the Mako Reactors, but the best materia will spawn naturally."

Bruce seemed like he wanted to ask more questions, but after glancing at the materia again he asked, "Mind if I try it out?"

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead."

Bruce closed his eyes, concentrating. His hand clenched around the materia tightly. Even after waiting a few minutes, nothing happened. Bruce opened his eyes, clearly disappointed, but Cloud, in a rare moment of higher spirits, chuckled.

Bruce disappointedly handed him back the materia. He regarded Cloud's face curiously. "I don't think I've seen you smile since I met you."

Cloud slotted the materia. "There wasn't a lot to smile about." He paused, "You hear about Coulson?"

Bruce wrung his hands and shook his head. "Yeah. It's a real shame."

"...Are you feeling better now?" Cloud asked awkwardly. Bruce smiled. "Yeah. The big guy's a little calmer than usual for some reason." He turned to stare at Cloud, sincere gratitude in his eyes. "It's good to know I've got someone who can put me down."

Cloud flushed slightly at the thanks before gaining a more serious expression. "It's nothing. I know how it feels to lose control, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

He got up and put his sword harness back on. "I'm sure Fury wants us at the bridge."

Bruce rolled off the bed. "Let's go."

Cloud glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Maybe put a shirt on first."

Bruce looked down, as though he were entirely unaware he was shirtless. "...Right."