A/N: I missed you all! Thanks for the reviews, they warm my heart and make me smile.
Our main players in today's chapter are... LOKI and CLINT! YAY! I know, you're excited. I can tell.
But enough of that, let's see what's behind door number one...
Nick Fury looked out of a two-way mirror at Agent Barton who sat calmly in the adjoining room, neuro-sensors stuck to his head and a heart monitor attached to his finger. Fury had ordered that all agents who had been under Loki's control be given a leave-of-absence until they could be psychologically evaluated and deemed ready to return to active duty. Barton was no exception, and the Director was going to give him a longer break, but recent events in New Mexico moved Barton's sanity up on his priority list.
"Are you ready, Agent Barton?" One of the two testers next to Fury asked into a small microphone that projected into the connecting room, while his research partner regarded a monitor showing Barton's brainwaves, heart rate, and a video of his face which was being monitored from a small camera in the room. They claimed they would be able to tell Barton's emotions based on the readings. Vaguely.
Barton nodded, "Let's get this over with."
The tester leaned forward, speaking into the intercom, "Alright, you're going to see a series of images projected on the screen in front of you."
The first image up was one of Fury himself. Just a general portrait. On the monitor, Fury could see the Agent smirk. "Nice yearbook photo."
Fury huffed a laugh, but the tester didn't find it so funny. "Please refrain from speaking, Agent."
Barton rolled his eyes, but returned to watching the pictures.
After several seconds of looking at Fury's image, the next one up was that of Stark Tower. Barton's face revealed nothing, and the readouts were stable.
The next image was of the destroyed Shield facility where the Tesseract had been held. Barton's brows twitched and his nostrils flared, but other than that, he remained still. One of the several horizontal lines indicating his brain activity jumped slightly, but the science officers didn't seemed disturbed by it.
Next they showed a picture of the spear that Loki had brought with him. Barton pursed his lips, looking slightly disgusted. A good sign, if Fury ever saw one. Again the neural and cardiac readings were apparently nothing to worry about.
As the next picture came on the screen, Fury himself had to school his emotions; the calm but stern face of Phil Coulson was serenely gazing back at them.
Fury knew that Coulson and Barton were close. They'd been a team since Barton had been recruited over ten years ago, shortly being joined by Agent Romanoff. Whenever Barton was injured on a mission, Coulson was the one to bring him back alive. A handler and an agent had to have an implicit trust and knowledge of each other, and Barton and Coulson had been the epitome of that relationship.
Turning his one-eyed gaze to the monitor, Fury watched as the muscle in Barton's jaw ticked, and his eyes become completely still, probably staring at a safe spot such as an ear or the man's tie. Those were places that didn't evoke emotion; Shield training at its finest.
But he couldn't hide biology. The testers next to him nodded as a couple of brainwaves shot up in places. Apparently, nothing was unusual. Good.
Typing a few things down, they moved onto the next picture, though it wasn't a picture. It was the security footage showing Barton shooting two security officers outside a research station. The video showed him on the roof of one building shooting down another officer on the roof across from him, and another on the ground. The video repeated itself once Barton walked off screen.
The Agent's eyes were currently narrowed, and his lips twitched. Fury saw his fingers twitch as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
The researchers pointed to a few things on their computer, mumbling things to themselves that Fury couldn't hear, though he thought he caught the words, "Elevated heart rate."
"Anything wrong, gentlemen?" he asked somewhat perturbed. He was glad to see them look uncomfortable at the tone of his voice.
"No, nothing sir. Just conferring with each other on the specifics of the readings. Nothing unusual, though."
"Good, then proceed." He made sure to glare at them both with his one eye. "Maybe next time, you should share with the rest of the class."
"Right, Director Fury." Fury probably shouldn't have gained as much satisfaction as he did from the nervous faces of the researchers.
The last picture projected was a screen-capture of Loki outside the German conference center. He was dressed in elegant clothing, a smug smile on his face.
For a moment, Barton didn't react, but then his brow furrowed, his nostrils flared, and a frown plastered itself on his face.
Agreeing with his expression, Fury glanced over to the scientists but was confused to see them staring at the screen, their lips turned down and pressed in a thin line. One shook his head, and typed something down.
Fury sighed. "Problems?"
One of them half turned, his face still frowning at the monitor, "Yes, sir. Agent Barton's elevated heart rate from the previous image decreased at this new one. It was clear that before, he had been feeling a high amount of negative emotions, but with the image of Loki, the activity in his brain calmed. Though he shows outward aggression, his body says otherwise."
Fury pursed his lips, "Why is Loki, the guy who jumped in his head and made him dance like a monkey, calming my agent down?" He frowned at the two men, making it clear that they had better have just read their results wrong.
The bespectacled man swallowed and rubbed a hand over his mouth, "All of his other readings were normal. Predictable. They were what they should be: grief and anger. But from what we can tell, he's definitely not reacting the way he should for an enemy. It's almost like he's…relieved."
Fury looked back at Barton. His hands were clenched, but his breathing was steady. Could the readouts be right? Barton should definitely be feeling some very bad things for the Asgardian, but instead the supposed-god was acting like more of a blanket—the supposed-god who was currently in a New Mexico base.
An idea began to form in Fury's mind, and he leaned over to speak into the intercom, "Barton. Good work. You passed with flying colors. All that's left is a field test. See how you react to being on the job. It's going to take a few days to set up, but expect a new mission soon."
Barton seemed to relax, and sighed, "Great." He began to rip off the sensors and tear off the heart monitor. "'Bout time."
"You're dismissed, Agent. Expect a call from me in the near future." As Barton left, Fury nodded to the researchers and walked out of the small room. As he made his way down the hall, his mind calculated. Fury needed real proof of Barton's reaction to Loki. Something wasn't right here, and Fury didn't like it. Barton would go to New Mexico and Shield would monitor him. Fury would also be sending a small, covert team after him, watching his every move. If Loki still had any sway over the archer, it would be there that it would be evident. Maybe the shock of seeing the god would be all that it would take. If Barton turned, then Fury would have no decision other than to take the archer out, though it might take more than a simple team of agents to take him down. The archer wasn't a part of the Avengers' Initiative for nothing. If things went south, Fury might have to call in the other heroes to take down one of their own. Until that point came (if it came), he didn't want the Avengers to know about Loki. With Shield, nothing was divulged unless it was absolutely necessary, and the Avengers were no longer officially a part of Shield. Hopefully, if all went to plan, Barton would be furious to see Loki, and glad to see him in Shield custody and subject to Shield's research methods, which weren't too gentle.
Sighing, Fury rubbed his one eye and continued his walk to the rooftop helipad where a helicopter was waiting to take him back to Shield HQ on the Helicarrier.
In the week and a half or so since Loki had been apprehended, he'd grown to very much dislike the humans that surrounded him. Scientists, they claimed to be.
When he'd woken, he wasn't sure if he was in one of Barton's dreams again because he seemed to be back in his glass cage, though this one was more cube shaped and was adjacent to a few others. Loki supposed it was similar to Asgard's dungeons, but instead of bars there was a highly resistant glass, and instead of stone walls, there was more glass.
Inside his glass cage, there was a small cot and a toilet. Outside, besides the other empty cells, he could see a door against a nearby wall, and he assumed that was the exit. There were no windows to be seen.
But Loki was now accustomed to this room and another, larger room to which he was taken often. In that room, he'd been poked and prodded by these so called 'scientists.' They'd put him in a tube of sorts which made a horrendously loud noise and caused the metal on his wrists to burn his skin, they'd removed what seemed like vast amounts of his blood, shined lights in his eyes, and attached devices to his head. Loki was tired, depleted, hungry, weak, and magicless. To say he was put out would be an understatement.
Every day that they came for him, he would ignore their orders to stand or to walk, until they aimed their weapons at him; he liked frustrating them. For some reason, they'd withheld any petty quests for revenge, though he figured that it would somehow negatively affect their scientific research.
Most days, when he was led to the large testing room, he was strapped to some sort of medical table while they plied their tests, but today he was stood in the middle of the room, the table off to the side, and two guards on either side of him, though slightly distanced. He desired the comfort and protection of his armor. He'd long been divested of most of his clothing, leaving him only his dark trousers.
The door opposite him opened, revealing the man who had first addressed him when he had landed on Midgard. He was of average height, short dark brown hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and the (apparently) standard three piece suit worn by all in the organization known as Shield.
He took a moment to talk in hushed tones with a couple of white-coated researchers before making his way to stand several feet from Loki.
"I trust you've enjoyed your stay, Loki of Asgard? I'm Agent Pierce" The man checked his cufflinks.
Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. How pathetic. The agent was trying to put on an air of power. No one here knew what real power was.
The man chuckled and dropped his hands to his sides. "Yes, I've heard you haven't been the most accommodating guest. Well, regardless, our tests have shown us that Asgardians and humans aren't so different. Apparently, there are a couple of genetic and hormonal distinctions, an odd temperature disparity, some neural variations, but other than that, you're much like us." Pierce clasped his hands in front of him, and sent a cold smile at Loki. "Now all of this information is well and good, but the most interesting variance we found was that you seem to have a much more advanced immune system. We've seen this before in some of our own humans, but ethics prevented us from testing their abilities. But Earth's Most Wanted? Well, no one will care if he gets a little beat up in the pursuit of knowledge."
Peirce turned his head and nodded at the scientists. One grabbed a rolling gurney, and the other pulled on rubber gloves. Pierce turned back and nodded at the two guards on either side of Loki, and they backed up slightly, their guns still at the ready. Loki furrowed his brow, and tried to prepare for whatever was going to happen. When Pierce pulled out his pistol and aimed it directly at Loki's chest, his reaction was instantaneous. Lunging to the side, he reached out to grab one of the guards, hoping to use him as a shield, but Pierce fired too soon, and suddenly there was a sharp pain in the lower right part of his abdomen. He couldn't stop the groan of pain, and he reached for the wound. Blood began to leak out, but not a deadly amount as the bullet had only gone in about an inch or so. Loki was about to simply dig his fingers in and remove it, but he was suddenly grabbed and injected with a large dose of some narcotic. As the effects of the drug began to make him drowsy and pliable, he was only dimly aware that he was being strapped to a table. He tried to fight back, but his arms were too heavy, and he was too weak from lack of food and water.
"Look at that," he heard, though it was muffled, "it should've gone all the way through. This is more like a superficial wound. A graze. Collect blood and skin samples from around the wound. We need to monitor the rate of healing every half-hour."
As Loki was being pulled into darkness, he wished to be whole—in body and mind. The last time that had been true had been sometime before Thor's coronation. Thor. Though he was an idiot—a brash, arrogant, ridiculous fool—he had been his one advocate, the person who had fought the longest for him. Loki wished for the brother of his past, when they battled back to back. When Loki would cast an illusion of snakes or some such thing, frightening some person nearby, and Thor would laugh. When Thor, in attempt to bring Loki out of one of his darker moods, would say something kind, and while Loki looked for deception every time, he heard and saw only blunt, ignorant, honesty.
As Loki closed his eyes, succumbing to the drug, something that lived deep in his chest yearned to hear thunder on the air.
Clint was alone in his room, the clock reading 9:00pm. He sat cross-legged on his bed, rubbing his eyes. "Alright, Clint," he muttered to himself. "Time to take things into your own hands. Quit being a pansy. It's time to fix your own head."
It had come to the point that his nightmares kept him from sleeping. He didn't want to sleep because of what would be waiting for him. Now, though, as he waited for a new mission, he knew that he had to get sleep if he was going to pass his field test. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Back on one of his many missions, he'd been captured and tortured for information. When they'd stop, leaving him alone and strapped in a chair, he had to deal with the pain. Breathing meditation was something that Shield taught all of the operatives, saying it helped to calm and focus the mind. It was supposed to push all other thoughts out in favor of concentrating on your breathing. Clint thought that if it worked back then, possibly it could work to get him to sleep and to simultaneously calm his mind enough to keep the nightmares away.
Taking one deep breath, he counted to eight, focusing only on the feel of air rushing into his lungs. When he couldn't inhale any further he held it for one second, and then released the air for eight more seconds, again thinking only of the feeling of the oxygen leaving him. As he repeated this routine, he could feel his body relaxing, and as his mind began to fall into a meditative state, he thought he heard a strange hum that was somehow familiar. Soon, he concentrated solely on that low hum, and was well and truly meditating.
….
Clint opened his eyes and became very confused. He could still hear the hum, though it was more of a background noise, an underlying pulse to wherever he was.
Looking around, he saw that he was in the most amazingly beautiful place he'd ever seen. He stood on a long walkway seemingly made of a crystal or geode that flashed different colors when you walked. Below the bridge was an enormous, shining sea which continued onto the horizon where an orange sun was setting. Turning, Clint's eyes grew wide as he took in a strange and magnificent city of gold and marble and other material he couldn't place. The air was warm and fresh, and there was a slight breeze.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned and was surprised to see two familiar figures walking towards him. One was Thor, dressed in his armor, his red cape wafting gently behind him. He was smiling and talking amicably with the man next to him, his arm around his shoulders companionably. Loki wore his armor too, the green of his cape standing out brightly against all the warm colors around. He smiled genuinely, and Clint almost choked when a small, sincere laugh escaped from him at something Thor had said.
When they'd finally reached the gaping Clint, Thor turned his gaze from his brother and smiled.
"Barton!" he bellowed, releasing Loki and clasping the archer on the shoulder, "It is good to see you, my friend. Come to welcome us back from our battle?"
Clint frowned in confusion. Home? Then his eyes grew wide with understanding. Was this Asgard? "Uh, yeah. Sure."
"Well, we must tell you that we were victorious then!" Thor laughed and looked back to Loki, who simply stood there with a small smile, though one hand was pressed against the lower right side of his stomach.
"Victory is never without a price, dear brother," Loki said.
Thor clapped him on the back, "That is nothing but a flesh wound! Why do you not heal it with you magic?"
At this, Loki's brow furrowed, like he didn't even know why, "My…my magic must be drained from battle. I will see the healers."
By this point Clint assumed he was dreaming, but he'd never entered a dream so lucidly before. Loki, though, seemed caught up in what was happening, not aware of the real circumstances. But was this a dream-Loki or real Loki?
"I'm confused here. I thought you" he pointed at Loki "we're supposed to be on trial or something. Like getting judged. That's what you said last time. What's all of this?" He motioned around him.
Loki looked confused, and Thor looked offended, "My brother? A Prince of Asgard on trial? Barton, do not insult my kin. We have just got back from a battle in Helheim. It was astounding. The warriors three, and my brother and I took down many foes."
But Loki still looked confused, staring at Clint. The Trickster glanced over to the smiling Thor, back to Clint, then down at his hand, which was covered in blood. His eyes clenched shut for a moment, and everything changed. Thor disappeared, the city behind blinked out of existence and the sky over him turned dark. Before him, Loki was now clutching his head, his eyes shut, and most of his armor gone. Now he stood there, bare-chested, the wound on his stomach red and gleaming. The two of them stood on an endless crystal bridge surrounded by nothing but stars and nebulas. Loki collapsed to the ground, sitting with his legs before him, and his body hunched over.
"Huh," Clint was thoroughly lost. "What just happened?"
A small huff of a laugh came from Loki, then the air around them resounded with his voice, "Nothing I haven't done to you, Barton. Though it seems you are better at handling the truth better than myself."
"The truth?"
"I did not think you capable of such a feat as this."
"As what?" Clint was getting frustrated at the god's lack of explanation.
"You are meditating, yes?" Loki sounded tired, and Clint tried to get a good look at his face but it was lowered and hidden by his hair.
He had been meditating, but he assumed that he drifted off to sleep. "How did you kn—"
"This is my dream, you fool," he interrupted, his face lifting to glare at Barton, "Do try and use your brain for once."
Instead of cussing the god out, Clint stared at him. Now he understood why Loki's voice seemed to come from everywhere but his mouth. "Shit… was that your punishment?"
Loki frowned, but then realized at what the Archer was staring at. "This?" he lightly touched his bleeding lips, "This is one lie too many, I suppose. And it was only part of my sentence."
Barton was about to ask more, but Loki stopped him with a gasp as he grasped his side. "What are the fools doing?"
"What are you talking about?" asked Clint.
But the god's eyes clenched in pain again, and he doubled over. Suddenly the bridge beneath them broke, the crystal-like stone shattering like glass shards.
…
Clint's eyes snapped open, and he found himself still sitting on his bed, his legs still crossed and the clock reading 9:30pm. He felt extremely tired, and collapsed back onto his pillow as he rubbed his eyes.
Where were the sleeping pills?
A/N: So, I think I like this chapter. Finally got another dream in there.
I figure, two dreamers can't really communicate with each other. One has to be conscious in a way. A meditating person can go into their own mind enough to be in a dream like state, but still be aware. The scepter acts as a conduit between Loki and Clint. So I guess the equation would be: Scepter + previous mind connection + Meditating + Dreaming= Connection! Does that make sense? Whatever.
Finally got Fury in too.
Struggled with exactly the biology of an Asgardian (though, Loki is Frost Giant, it seems that in his Asgardian form he has similar qualities. And some different. Shield doesn't know yet though. Oy, whatever). I tried to make it congruous with the movies. Obviously Asgardians are tough (withstanding bullets and surviving smashes and long falls and whatnot), but they still get bruised and cut up by fighting on Earth. So there was some give and take here.
Also, as for the history of Loki and Norse mythology, I'm only going to make homages to it. For example, in mythology, there is a story of Loki's lips being sewn shut, so I kind of took that and made it my own-ish. So unless I state something happened, don't readily assume anything.
Tell me what you think. Like it? Hate it? Confused? I enjoy reviews of all sorts. Not that me telling you this is going to persuade you one way or another into reviewing. But I love you anyways.
Important Note: Roleplaying on Twitter has taken over my life...distracting me from updating. You can follow my Darcy on Twitter at Darcy_Lewis_ Follow many versions of the Avengers and Loki too! It's tons of fun! Forgive me my lack of updating. I haven't given up on this story though.
Fun Fact: Loki likes apples and cucumbers. They're light and refreshing. Do you have an apple for poor Loki? (I seem to be stuck on food for these fun facts.)