Thanks again for all the reviews, favourites, and follows. You guys are wonderful. This one feels shorter, but the next one more than makes up for it, I promise. I might post it early too, because it's one of my favourites. :)
I don't own the Avengers or any characters there.
Trigger warning: abuse, torture
This story does not involve smut in any way, shape or form. It's only a little slashy at that, so if you want that, you'll need to go elsewhere. This takes place after the Avengers movie.
This entire story is already completed and edited. We have 5 more updates left. :)
Chapter 4
His company stopped being just Stark all the time. He started to wander, ignoring the (admittedly nice) cane that they had got for him, instead steadying himself on the wall as he went through the tower. He kept waiting on someone to hit him, or yell, or something, but other than a little surprise at seeing him, and a sometimes quick smile, they did not bother him. They let him do what he wanted.
He wondered if they would let him wander outside, but he didn't want to risk it.
Instead, painstakingly, he would make his way to the roof of the tower, usually empty, and sit, knees pulled to his chest. The air was almost clear here, if the wind blew just so, and he'd watch the city move about its life without him. Occasionally, he'd get up, move to the edge, lean over, wonder about letting go and falling-this time with a definitive end-and that little voice would whisper at the edges.
You do not deserve death, peace, silence.
He pretended not to notice the other person who hovered near the edges, watching him as he would move back to where he perched-the one had tried to keep his blood from pouring out of him. Hawk brown eyes would watch him, and they seemed familiar. All of these people seemed familiar, the way that a silhouette seen frequently is familiar, even if the face is unknown.
Those eyes would go back to something-reading-once he was sitting again. They didn't want him to die, but the flavour of it was different from the voice that would whisper at him when he leaned over the edge.
XXXXXXXXX
Clint rubbed at his forehead as Bruce joined him on the balcony overlooking where Loki had taken to hiding, passing the time, quickly turning off the display of the tablet he'd been reading over.
"He hasn't tried to jump off, has he?" Bruce asked, looking a bit concerned down at where Loki sat, legs dangling off the side of the building, resting against part of the railing. Clint shook his head. "Well, good. I don't know if I could put him together after that one."
Bruce sat down next to Clint, glancing at the newly darkened screen, but he didn't pry. Clint liked that about Bruce-he wouldn't pry, long as you didn't pry into his life.
"That's why I'm up here. Figured I'd keep an eye on him. Someone needs to, and I think I'm the only one who enjoys the vertigo."
Bruce nodded.
They watched the god, who pretended not to notice he had another audience member. He turned his head slightly, as if following a flock of birds. Clint was pretty sure he knew they were there and thus the head turn, so he could see if they tried to get near-he always seemed to know, always edging around and away, constantly moving just so no one would touch him.
"He doesn't flinch so much around you," Bruce commented. Clint side eyed him. "It's true, he doesn't."
"Probably knows I owe him a well-deserved punch," Clint muttered, but it didn't have the same venom as before.
"Well, whatever it is, it's good. He's starting to trust us a little, at least." Bruce chuckled, then stood, going back inside. "Uh, let me know if anything happens, all right?" Clint nodded, and the rumpled looking doctor ducked back inside. Clint watched him go, and then returned his gaze to where Loki sat for a moment. Bruce gone, Loki's gaze had moved again, back to watching his feet dangling above the city streets below.
Clint flicked the screen back on on his tablet, looking through stills and images. Blue eyes, and straight from the get-go. Naturally. Subtle, most the time, but it was all there, and he wasn't particularly thrilled by it. The anger at Loki was gone, or at least settled. He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't without remembering that room and the pale white butterfly wing scars still on Loki's face. He wasn't sure if Loki had been entirely aware of what he was doing. And a quick skim over of the myths told him that Loki probably would have been perfectly justified to want to break something.
He just wished it hadn't been Earth.
Movement drew his eye up. Loki was standing again, leaning over the rail, dangerously so, stood on tiptoe.
"Hey! You want to fall?" he shouted. Loki settled back on his feet, blinking, looking over his shoulder at Clint, eyes narrowed. A flicker of blue was there, and Clint swallowed. It faded, and Loki began to pace along the railing, picking somewhere else to sit. Stillness settled again over both of them.
XXXXXXXXX
"So care to explain what you've been trying to get to on Jarvis while I was away?" Tony leaned against the wall casually, eyes straight ahead, sipping at his coffee.
Clint shrugged, drawing the string back to his cheek, following the moving target in the range.
"Because it looks like, and I could be wrong, but it looks like you've been trying to get to my files on Loki and his staff. Just a hunch."
Clint released the arrow, drew and shot a second target in one smooth motion. Tony didn't seem phased.
"Now, I have to admit I'm curious. You're the one who was most vocal about Loki, got the most reason to hate him, and now here you are, trying to dig up more about him. Really, that doesn't come off suspicious at all, super assassin trying to find out more about our godling guest."
"It's none of your business."
Tony snapped a hand around Clint's wrist before he could release a third arrow, grip far tighter than Clint had suspected it could be. He met those deep brown eyes, skin around them tight.
"You made it my business when you tried hacking into my things. Now, you spill, and I might let you have some of it. You don't, and you can get the hell out of my tower."
Tony let go of his hand, and Clint lowered both bow and arrow. He put the arrow back, and looked at Tony, thinking. Stark was smart, and it was very likely that if he did help Clint that he'd be able to put together the pieces Clint was missing. And if he didn't, then he'd know what Clint was up to, but he wouldn't necessarily interfere. Not telling him would lead to at least temporarily not having access to Loki, which meant he couldn't... do whatever it was he was trying to do.
He wasn't sure it was helping.
"Fine." He put his bow away swiftly, and walked out of the range, Tony grinning like a maniac behind him. As they walked towards the lab, Clint told him what was going on. About the blue he noticed when Loki tried to kill himself in a panic, and the various clips they had of Loki from when he was captive, starting with when Loki first appeared. How he thought that the staff probably was helping keep him tame even so far from those who had captured him, even though the tesseract was gone now.
He kept his eyes ahead. He didn't want to find out what Tony thought about his research or interest.
In the lab, he showed him, all these little clips and snippets, how it was rarely more than a flash or two-nothing at all like Loki's control of Clint and Erik. And when he was done, he glanced over at Tony, who was staring, mind clearly racing, arms crossed.
"I remember that void he fell through. Saw it for a bit. I thought I was going to die. It was emptiness, death, and cold. Thor says he fell through that for a long time before he even showed up here, and then he landed with the Chitauri." Tony leaned forward, zooming in on one of the stills, and hand tip-tapping on his arc reactor. "I wonder how much of him was left when he got there."
Clint didn't say anything, not wanting to interrupt Tony.
"He just grabbed you and Erik. Quick and dirty. You didn't think or feel anything except what he wanted, did you?" Tony looked over at him, already knowing the answer.
"Just blue. Everything was this one shade of blue."
Tony looked back at the image. "It was quick and dirty. He was hurting and weak. He staggered a lot when he stumbled through the portal. They had months to start to put him together how they wanted. Thor probably wasn't lying when he said that this was not Loki as he was, even taking the whole 'try to wipe out an entire species' into account. What? Thor told me about it over drinks. Anyway, that's not important. What is, is head trauma isn't going to knock the magic blue light out of Loki. Otherwise, Hulk would have done it when he smashed him like a ragdoll.
"We need to destroy the source, or at least the one that's keeping it going. He's not near the Chitauri or the tesseract anymore, and that's why you wanted to see the staff. It's got a chunk in it, and that would be close enough to keep it going-especially since he's been down here in the lab sleeping so often."
"Which just leaves figuring out how to get it out of his head." Clint nodded, glad that Tony had put it all together. Tony looked at him.
"Exactly."