A few days after the party, Clint Barton, carrying his trusty bow and a large bag on his back, walked casually up the stairs of the apartment. Now, why would he waste the extra energy to use the stairs instead of taking one of the readily-available elevators? It would have been so much easier on him, and he wouldn't have to hide his anxiety and haste.
The answer to this was simple: the elevators have cameras with no blind spots, but the cameras on the stairs couldn't cover every angle of sight; this would give Loki a small window of escape if someone had lacked the attention-span to catch him.
Barton hoped he would catch the trickster—for he knew he tried at least once a day to escape—as he slipped down the stairs. He hoped that if and when he caught him and brought him back to his 'brother', it would give the thunder-wielding Avenger the incentive to bring him back to Asgard where he belonged—or at least allow him to rot in one of Earth's prisons.
He still held a grudge against him for using the tesseract against him and if he could, he would take advantage of Loki's lost powers. If he could, he would take him into a dark corner and make him pay for the trauma he had been through.
Just as he had allowed his mind to linger on such thoughts, the almost inaudible footsteps of the trickster could be heard from above in a haphazard pattern as he avoided the cameras. Barton smirked to himself as he drew the bow that he refused to go anywhere without.
The look on Loki's face was priceless to him; as the trickster turned the corner, he saw the weapon pointed at him and he threw his hands up immediately with widened eyes. A nervous smile played across his lips as he chuckled lowly, though it was clearly not in amusement. He glared at the bow-wielder in anger, but knew there was nothing he could do.
"What are the odds of meeting you here?" Loki sneered.
"Start walking." Barton responded with disdain, nudging the arrow towards him. "Did you really believe I wouldn't check the stairs on the way back? I saw you watching from the window!"
"There's no need to get angry; I'll cooperate." Loki turned slowly and reluctantly. "How is your roommate? Romanov, was it?"
"Do not speak to me as if we are friends." He shoved the trickster forwards without holding anything back.
"My apologies for attempting to make conversation…" Loki grunted, no longer smirking as he attempted to catch his balance again.
After one flight of stairs, Barton shoved him again, knocking him into a wall and almost knocking him into the ground.
Loki chuckled again as pushed himself away from the wall. He turned his head slightly to lock eyes with the angered man, smirking again. "I see what you are attempting to do, and you are forgetting that I am very patient." The trickster continued his leisurely pace.
Barton stifled a growl of anger as he marched him up the stairs. His thoughts lingered on his anger until he pushed them away as he slowly climbed the stairs; each step brought a small flow of triumph, which conquered the anger.
Barton nudged Loki with much less force than before as they stopped just outside the entrance. Loki knocked unenthusiastically, and a few seconds later, an enthusiastic Thor opened the door. Although, he was much less enthusiastic when he realized he had let his adoptive brother slip right by him. Again.
"I deeply apologize, Hawkeye, for both my lack of surveillance and my brother's actions…" The embarrassed Asgardian took his adoptive brother by the arm and pulled him inside gently.
"Look, I agreed to keep watch over your brother as well, but this is getting ridiculous," Barton replied, attempting to contain his refueled anger. "If you can't keep him under control, maybe he shouldn't be here."
"I understand your resentment, Hawkeye," Thor replied solemnly, "but I made a promise to both my father and my brother. I fought hard to convince everyone to care for Loki."
"And you're doing a great job." Loki sighed, pulling away and retreating to the confines of his room.
"He's been hurt—" Thor started, but was immediately stopped by Barton's swiftly-lifted hand.
"That is not excuse; we've all been hurt. We didn't try to destroy Manhattan or conquer the world." Barton retorted.
"He isn't you or anyone else. I understand your concerns; I shall watch over him with a keener eye than a hawk's!" Thor laughed, but faltered when Barton crossed his arms. "Excuse my attempt at a joke…I shall see you later, mayhap?"
Barton sighed, then nodded with a forced smile before taking the elevator back up to his room.
Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton lived just a few levels down from the top level of the complex; it gave Barton a great view of the city and Romanov the space she needed to relieve the bundled-up stress she had been keeping inside of her since the beginning of her life in the apartment.
Chinese food, still steaming, sat on the counter unopened as Romanov waited on the couch for Barton. She hated having to order take-out, but seeing as neither of them cook—many fires had taken place in attempt to prepare a decent meal, and it showed on the walls and cabinets, but they were too stubborn to ask for them to be repaired—they didn't have many other options. They could eat out, but there would be too many pairs of eyes fixated on them. There would be countless fans shouting at them, and there would be endless questions about their lives and relationships. Romanov certainly wasn't ready to reveal any information on those subjects. She never would be.
Hearing the click of the key in the door, she slowly and quietly lifted herself off the couch; while most of her companions took things easily, she personally couldn't relax, and was prepared for anything to happen once the door opened…
…anything, except the anger and exhaustion plain in Barton's expression.
"What's bothering you, Clint? You're late…" Romanov asked, though she was sure she already knew the answer.
"Loki almost escaped again." He dropped his bow and a large bag containing food items and toiletries on the counter with a thud and collapsed on the recliner. "That, and I had to escape a horde of fangirls again…it's almost impossible to get groceries now!"
"You didn't have to agree with this," Romanov replied, hiding her concern, "and neither did I."
"Of course we did, and you know why we needed to; there isn't enough security to keep that trickster off the streets, even with his powers taken away. Who's to say he hasn't already escaped more than once?" Barton complained as he rubbed at his tired eyes.
"Why would he come back if he's escaped?"
"If he didn't return after twenty-four hours, Thor would be required to search for him and bring him back to Asgard. I hope the bastard slips up and gets caught."
"Thor will do everything in his power to protect his brother. He won't just let him out, but he won't go after him immediately when he figures it out, either," Romanov murmured, "not unless he hurt someone in the process."
The two of them sat quietly for a few minutes, unable to think of something to say to each other. Romanov stood then, and headed for the liquor cabinet. She poured them both a small glass of wine before returning to the couch.
About an hour later, Romanov was out like a light. Barton smiled as he stood. He carried his roommate to her room and laid her on her bed before retiring to his own chambers.
This one was a little more on the serious note, but the next chapter will have more joke (hopefully). :)
Please tell me whether I am characterizing everyone well enough; I don't want any of them to be too out of character, or else it wouldn't be the same! :P