The morning yielded dewey grass and chirping birds and Clint woke up with a snapping open of his eyes like he hadn't slept at all. Rested, but nothing deep. He crawled to the end of the tent and unzipped it as quietly as he could, poking his head out to check on the visiting gods. Thor was laid out on his front exactly where he had sat the night before, arms and legs splayed like a starfish and his face crushed into the grass. Loki sat with his arms folded over his knees and his head down on top of them, feet spread apart from each other to maintain balance. He didn't move when Clint pulled his clothes on and fell into his morning workout routine. When a beam of sunlight poked through the canopy of the trees and shined on Thor's face, he awoke with a groan and slowly sat up, finding Clint on the finishing pumps of his pushups.
"A good workout in the morning get the blood flowing does it not," Thor said with a smile. "Invigorates the soul."
Clint gasped as he finished his workout and sat back on his heels, looking over the god while he caught his breath. Thor had a ladybug in his hair and grass imprints on his cheek. The archer agreed to Thor's sentiment and looked over at Loki, who was looking back at him, still in his sitting position but back straightened. Clint didn't know how long he'd been awake, he'd never heard a sound from him. The thought that he'd been awake the whole time and watching made his skin prickle.
Clint stood up when Thor did, watching him tie the leather loop at the end of his battle hammer to his belt. The god stood then like he had when Clint first came upon him in the camp- hands on his hips and standing tall and proud.
"Taking off, then?"
"Yes, my duties with you are complete." He gripped Clint's shoulder just as before. "I know you will watch over my brother well, Hawkeye. He is treacherous and jealous and confused, but he is not beyond redemption. Loki will learn this and hopefully gain your forgiveness in time."
Clint pursed his lips and nodded his head in sarcastic agreement. "Mmm, well. We'll see about that. Not a very good teacher here. That's why I'm an assassin. You can tell your dad thanks for the extra baggage, but next time maybe do a background check for qualifications."
Thor chuckled and squeezed the man's shoulder before turning to the burnt grass in a far corner, black lines twirled into knots. Clint wondered how he hadn't noticed it before, been too busy with the norse gods in his campsite he guessed. Thor stood in the middle of the ring of design and called out for transport, and in a literal flash he was gone.
Leaving Clint in a forest far away from civilization with Loki only. Clint glanced at the god left by his fire and then turned away, grabbing his bow and quiver and walking away into the forest. Loki stayed where he was, watching him go. It wasn't a long walk before Clint found and killed his breakfast, having only ate berries for dinner the night before. He came back with another dead rabbit in hand and went through the process of skinning and skewering it, roasting it over the fire with the last of the juniper berries he had picked and some other spices. While it cooked, Loki stared into the fire and Clint stared at him.
"Thinking of what to do with me?" Loki asked lowly in his throat, feeling Clint's gaze.
"Yep, and none of it's looking very good for you."
"Hm," Loki grunted and looked up at his keeper. "I would expect not."
"So I'll die if I kill you, right? What happens if you try to kill me? You don't have your magic stuff, it might be pretty tough for you- you gonna go to prison if you kill me?"
"I will die alongside you."
Clint blinked in surprise and scoffed. "Really?"
"It is Odin's way of forcing me to cooperate. Though your life matters nought to me if I decide killing myself is the best way to deal with this."
Clint watched his face carefully, finding not much, which set him on edge. There had emotion all over Loki's face during his invasion, Clint remembered. But not now. "What's wrong with you?"
Loki looked back up from the fire. "Many things, apparently."
"I mean right now; you're acting weird. Silent. Emotionless. It's honestly freakier than the bloodlust look you used to have."
The god sneered at the archer, finally changing his face. "I may act however I feel."
"So, you feel lifeless," Clint surmised.
"I feel like I should stake one of your precious arrows through your heart!" Loki barked.
Clint looked impressed by the gods outburst and he glanced at the roasting rabbit, feeling like it could use a couple more minutes on the spit. He rose slowly from his stone seat and prowled around the fire, watching Loki leaning back to see him come.
"You wanna talk about feelings?" He reached back to pull an arrow out of his quiver and he held it up between them, watching Loki's green eyes flicker to it and back up. Clint looked at Loki with feigned innocence and saw the god become wary of the situation, trying to lean away from him without drawing attention to the movement. Clint noticed it anyway and lunged for him, grabbing the gods face and shoving him to the ground. The gods hand went up to throw him off and Clint drove his arrow straight through it, driving the wood into the grass and dirt. Loki quelled his cry of pain behind his teeth and squeezed Clint's throat with the other hand while the archer raised his fist and pounded it across the god's face as he choked him in return. He pummeled until the skin broke over both Loki's face and Clint's knuckles. Blood leaked out of the god's cheek and nose and mingled with Clint's and their visions blurred into nothing but color as they choked each other. When Clint finally ran out of steam with his punches and loosened his grip on Loki's throat, the god reciprocated and their arms fell limp at their sides. Clint sat heavy on Loki's chest and panted with fading adrenaline, fingers sliding up the shaft of the arrow that pierced Loki's hand into the ground. He gripped it and pushed it further in, listening to Loki hiss at the slide of the wood and watching with a sick fascination as the hand twitched like a spider in its death-throws. The archer looked down into Loki's eyes and found the god watching him too, no anger or fear apparent. Just staring up with a slight frown and gathering his breath from the beatings.
"How did that feel?" Clint whispered condescendingly. For a moment he felt like he'd said it to Winchester, unable to count how many times the doctor had asked him that very question.
Loki didn't answer. Clint climbed off him all the same, taking the arrow with him and smiling to himself at Loki's groan as it slid out of his hand. He checked over the rabbit on the fire and made a pleased sound when he found it ready. He pulled up the spit and gently peeled a leg off the body, giving it a testing nibble. He hummed with satisfaction.
Loki had sat up again and he caught the hot hunk of meat when Clint gave him a heads up and tossed it at him. The god rested his arm over his folded legs and let his skewered hand dangle limply over the grass, slowly dripping blood onto the greenery. He tiredly chewed at the offered meat in silence.
Clint gnawed at the rabbit right off the body, feeling a little like a wild man with the juices running down his chin and blood drying on his split knuckles. He threw Loki another leg when he'd eaten the first one down to the bone. Loki ate this one too, breathing through his mouth between bites and regularly wiping the drooling blood of his wounds off his lip. He was going to bruise a rainbow for sure.
Clint set the spit on the ring of rocks after he'd had his fill and he found his canteen and filled it up, knowing Loki was watching. Well, now he knew where the water was. The archer rinsed the blood off his knuckles while he was there and let it dry on its own. He sat back down and drank.
"Well, I feel better," he declared and Loki looked at him with disdain. "Think it's safe to say that'll be the only beating you'll get from me- I'm tired of hating you."
"Don't I feel special," Loki deadpanned.
Clint ignored him. "When you're done eating, you can wash out your hand. I'll give you some gauze."
Loki tossed the bones of the rabbit legs behind him and rose to do just that. "I don't require your human treatments."
He bent to inspect the rubber nozzle he'd seen Clint use and he tested it before cupping his injured hand under the pour of water. He lifted the hand to his face to wash away the blood and looked confused for a moment when no water touched his cheek. Clint watched him and spit out his drink of water in a bark of laughter. The water had funneled right through the hole in the god's hand. Loki growled at the hilarity Clint found in his misery and moved to put his back to the archer, continuing his washing with a different method.
The blood had been washed to the grass and Loki stood at the watering hole staring into his hand, at the ground he could see through it. Small, but still a hole through his flesh and muscle. He heard movement behind him and jumped, turning to see Clint swiping through his pack and bringing out medical supplies. He took it back to his rock and started wiping a thick ointment over his split knuckles and he grimaced at the sting. He wrapped a bandage around his hand and clipped it tight, gently trying to flex his hand. The archer looked over at Loki suddenly.
"Sure you don't want some of this?"
Loki turned to fully face him, hands down at his sides. "As I said before-"
"Yeah, yeah: primitive human, crappy medical stuff. I guess if you want the bugs crawling into your veins that's your choice. You'll get a lot of that out here." He looked at Loki expectantly but the god made no move to accept his offer. He scoffed and shook his head, leaving the first aid tin on the grass.
He smirked to himself when he saw Loki look at the hole in his hand with concern out of the corner of his eye. Of course there was nothing like that out here that could crawl into his skin, but it never hurt to give him a little scare. Clint got up and picked up his bow and quiver as he slowly started walking into the trees. Loki's eyes followed him warily.
"Hope you can hike in that shit," Clint called back. "You interrupted my tracking yesterday. Let's move out."
He heard Loki slowly fall in step behind him and he felt a tightening in his chest. His words and the feel of the god walking behind him was too familiar and he had to take deep, silent breaths to keep himself from hyperventilating again.
Loki made no complaints as they ventured deeper into the forest, keeping a few yards behind Clint. He stopped when Clint did, reluctantly took drink from the canteen when it was offered to him, asked no questions. Though he did watch the archer with odd curiosity, not missing the significance of their positions. It had been often that Clint would scout ahead of Loki and lead him to and fro during the invasion.
They walked for hours, and when Clint suddenly looked up at the sun and cursed, he turned on his heel and told Loki they were heading back. He didn't fancy tripping through the forest in the dark with the god on his heels. They made it to the camp with another kill in hand, and Loki reluctantly carrying wild onions and mushrooms Clint had hooted about when found. He made sure to stuff the vegetables into the cut open cavity of the animal and sewed it shut with half-assed stitches and put it high over the fire. Loki rinsed his hands of the dirt from the raw veggies and began to walk away into the growing shadows of the forest again.
"Where're you going?" Clint demanded to know, sitting on his rock and sharpening a couple small sticks with his knife.
Loki stopped to lay on the archer an irritated scowl. "Nature beckons."
Clint tilted his head in understanding. He could appreciate that. "You know how do to that all by yourself? Make sure you cover."
Loki turned away with a roll of his eyes. "I know how to defecate in the woods, Agent Barton."
Clint chuckled and yelled at his back as the god disappeared in the dark. "You say that, but I'll bet you don't have poison ivy in Asgard!"
Clint and Loki shared the meal again, no words between them. Clint moaned at the taste of the added veggies in the meal and Loki rolled his eyes but kept his comments to himself. The archer winced every once in a while when he bent his fingers, but they hadn't bled any more. He changed the bandage just this once. Loki still left his own hand in the open air, and Clint noticed he hadn't used the hand to hold the onions and mushrooms. Didn't want dirt smushed into his wound. His cheek was bruised, the skin split open at the top of his cheek bone, and there was a slight tear over the bridge of his nose too. Not openly bleeding anymore though.
When Clint announced he was going to bed, he left Loki by the fire and crawled into his tent, and he turned towards the side with the boulder rather than face the bright glow of the flames through the fabric. He hoped a bear would walk through the camp and drag Loki away to its cave as he fell asleep, just so he wouldn't have to see him the next day. He hoped that this had just been some fevered dream, flashbacks of his days under Loki's thumb mixed up with his vacation. He knew it wouldn't be so.
In the morning, Clint went about his usual routine- he crawled out of the one-man tent and did his workout, spying Loki lying on his side in the grass, asleep. He needed to shower again, it had been a few days and he was sweaty from all the hikes he'd taken, but with the god a few yards away, even though he was asleep... At least during the invasion Loki'd never seen him naked. He wondered if they did such a thing as communal bathing in Agard, or was that an ancient Roman thing? He couldn't remember. In the end he decided that Loki was no threat to him, and if the god woke up while Clint was still showering, maybe his naked form would embarrass him. He wouldn't let the undesirable situation put a damper on his trip and he showered in full view, finding that, while the water was still freezing cold from the night-time air, the mornings seemed to be getting hotter and the temperature was a relief. He bent his head and let the water run down the back of his neck and down his spine in tiny streams. He knew he'd have to refill the bag sooner with how much water he was going to use, but it felt too nice. He did release the rubber spigot though, and he shaved, and dressed, finding Loki awake as he pulled his boots on. He jerked his head in the direction of the water bag.
"Wanna shower? Soap's in there, shampoo too, I just never use it."
Loki squinted at the archer but he went to it and inspected the shower kit. He looked back and forth between it and the bag and then he looked at Clint. The blond raised his hands up in surrender.
"I can look away if you want privacy. I'm gonna get some fruit." And as he said, he sauntered away and gathered two handfuls of blackberries. By the time he got back, Loki's hair was dripping at its ends and he was dressed, but the very edge of his pants were dark with water spillage. The god wrung out his black locks with a twist of his hands and combed it with his fingers. Loki's damaged hand had a nice white wrapping around the palm. So he'd taken the archer's offer for protection, but wanted privacy for it. Clint eyed Loki's damp pants and shoved the entire handful of berries in his mouth. He could understand a simple hair washing. When the hair got greasy enough it could be moved to stick in weird directions, ones it didn't usually go in. And when your body didn't feel dirty, a good face and hair wash would make you feel like a million bucks.
Clint threw a log on the fire and sat on his rock. "So..." He let the word hang between them but Loki didn't pick it up. The god wandered the perimeter of the camp, looking up at the leaves.
"Dad wants you to learn some lessons down here?"
Loki didn't look back at the archer as he plucked a bright green leaf off a low hanging branch and eyed it. "He's not my father."
"Alright, Odin then, yeah?"
"Yes," Loki said and promptly took a bite out of the leaf and chewed thoughtfully. Clint's eyebrows shot up as he watched him. Loki looked down at the leaf suddenly and hummed with curiosity.
"...Alright," Clint was slightly disgusted by the choice of food Loki had taken. "What are you supposed to be learning here? Did you get a list or is this some kind of Hercules get-into-Olympus-when-you're-a-true-hero thing?"
"You realize that I have no idea what you speak of."
"Yeah, I kinda figured."
"I was given no list." Loki moved along to each tree in the perimeter, skipping his scrutinizing when it was one he'd already looked at. He sampled the leaves of every new tree he came across.
"So you could be here forever."
Loki sighed, tired of the conversation. He came back to the fire pit and sat in the grass, fingering the few red blades stained by his blood. "It's possible."
"You don't sound too upset."
"That would be because you are not worthy of my feelings on the matter."
"I think as your 'handler' I need to know certain things: if you're going to cooperate and try to make Daddy happy, or if you're going to flip him the bird and waste my entire life looking after you."
Loki scowled. "You need not 'look after me' as though I were a child. I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I only need stay within a distance of you, that is all."
"So you're going to try the redemption thing."
The god expelled a breath through his nose and stared down at the ground. His eyes became hard and he looked a little embarrassed. "I need not try to raise myself to Odin's expectations-" he said quietly- "I am a different man from the one he knew. One that would accept any punishment if it meant I wouldn't have to see my so-called 'family' again."
Clint considered Loki and wondered what could've been so bad that he would forsake his own family, and even go so far as to disown them. He'd seen the footage from Iron Man when Thor and Loki had argued on the edge of a cliff, when the pale god had declined to include himself as Odin's son. Clint wondered why he himself never changed his last name after he moved out of his parent's house. After his father threw the last punch that broke the camel's back. He kept the name for his mother, he realized, who'd stayed behind. It would break her heart if he ditched his Barton name.
"They fuck you pretty hard, huh?"
Loki twitched at the words and continued to look away. "My entire existence is a lie. A lie built by Odin and Frigga who would raise me to call them Mother and Father though it is far from reality."
"Hm. I used to hate my family too. Except my Mom, I could never hate her."
"Oh, yes, please share what atrocities could have possibly been committed by your unwholesome family," Loki drawled, rolling his eyes.
"My dad beat me," Clint divulged, and Loki looked up at him with his eyebrows knit together. He hadn't expected that. "It was alright for a while, like, uh- it stopped for a while when I was in middle school and for most of high school, but before and after that... Well. Mom always tried to stop him, but there's not much a little lady like her can do against a guy like him. At least he never touched her. He couldn't- he loved her. Sometimes blood isn't the barrier that keeps the bad shit away- it's true love. Sounds fucking stupid, that someone would beat his son and then make love to his wife, but... I guess those things just happen."
Loki looked disturbed by Clint's story. "Did you kill him?"
"What- No! I moved out. I left and never went back. I joined SHIELD."
"And with every man you eliminate, you picture your father's face over theirs."
Clint's shoulders sagged and he touched his thumbs to his brow line. "I used to," he admitted.
"Why did you stop?"
"Because I got over it. It took a long time- I went through a little therapy outside of SHIELD and I called my mom to tell her I was alive, but I was able to stop hating him eventually. Doesn't mean I'll be going home any time soon though."
Loki had a perplexed expression on his face and he said he couldn't understand how Clint could just forgive and forget. But Clint hadn't done either of those. You could forgive, if you wanted to, but you never really forgot- you only moved beyond it. You can say you're okay until you're blue in the face, but until you can talk about a horror like it was yesterday's news, you're not fooling anyone but yourself. Oh that scar? It's just from when I plunged my hand into this guys chest- jagged broken ribs from impact, you know. When you fight the pain, fight the fear, and the ocean of reality crashes in your face like hard waves off the perimeter of your island of not-okay, you never think it could be so easy as to let yourself sink, and then swim right under it.
Loki wasn't sure that he could ever move past what his family had done to him. And he wasn't sure that he wanted to try. There was no forgetting.
The two sat in silence while they thought about their pasts, one where he knew what wrong was being done, and one who didn't know until the shiny golden casing eroded with the pressure of time.
"Well," Clint interjected their thoughts and gathered his weapon. "Let's keep tracking while there's still daylight- I want to see a bear before my trip's done."
No bear was seen, but the duo did find a silver fox by which Loki was awed. Clint had laughed and told him they were pretty regular. They headed back to camp with full bellies of berries and, in Loki's case, leaves and flowers. He was close to pulling a stinging nettle out of the ground and popping it in his mouth before Clint swatted it out of his hand. The look of indignant rage on Loki's face at the slap made Clint point a finger in his face.
"Don't get pissed off at me- I just saved your ass from hours of pain!"
He explained the plant and it's effects and while Loki looked impressed but still questioned the pain, Clint picked up a fresh one and smacked it across the top of Loki's good hand. When the skin broke out in welts and itched painfully, Loki yelled at the archer who began walking away quickly.
They sat around the fire again as the sun set and Clint told him the trip was coming to an end. He'd be going back to New York the day after next. Loki looked lost and apprehensive at the information, staring at him through the heat distortion above the flames.
"What?" Clint grunted.
"What will become of me there?"
Clint shrugged and chewed on his dinner. "You'll start learning your lessons? I don't know. What ever the hell you want to do I guess."
"I only have a small distance from you available. What could I possibly do?"
"Guess you'll figure it out. I thought you said you were capable of taking care of yourself. I don't give a crap what you do as long as it's not killing or maiming or mind controlling or whatever. I'm not your mom, I'm not gonna keep track of you."
When he went to bed, staring up at the crease of his tent roof, he wanted to kick himself. What was he going to do with Loki in New York? He only had a distance of a quarter mile to be separated by. He couldn't leave the god at the SHIELD headquarters unless he wanted to live there himself, which he refused to do. Nobody knew about Charles except Natasha; no way was he going to let anyone else know he had a fish. He wondered what was going to happen when he got back to civilization. Fury had agreed to this, if Thor's word was anything to go by, but how? Why? Clint rolled onto his side and forced himself to be quiet and sleep.
A soft pitter-patter was tapping on the tent, waking Clint slowly. When the grogginess left him a little more coherent he recognized the sound as rain. He unzipped the front of the tent enough to poke his head out, watching the droplets fall in pale streaks against the night sky. He scanned the area and found Loki missing. He pulled his head back into the tent and smacked his hand to his forehead, groaning. The archer quickly dressed and stood in the downpour, looking around the perimeter once more. The dregs of the fire barely illuminated the area, but it was enough to discern the god was still not there. Clint dug through his pack and brought out a flashlight and he marched into the forest with it, boots squeaking in the wet grass. He shined the light through the darkness, walking a large circle around the camp. Against the light, pairs of eyes would glow and then look away as the creatures scurried to their safe and dry holes.
"Loki?" Clint said. He didn't yell, there was only so far the god could go. He kept walking, starting to shiver from the cold rain dropping on him. The shoulders of his coat were soaked, and his hair weighed down on his head. He wiped the water out of his eyes and sighed.
"Loki." He said again after walking another distance. Still nothing. Clint balled his hands onto fists, frustrated that he had to keep track of the god when he'd just said he wouldn't be doing that. He clicked his tongue and went back to camp, thinking if the god wanted to dance around in the freezing rain then he could do as he pleased. He came up to the camp with the fire pit between him and the tent and he stood near the flames, looking down at the bloodied grass that was being cleansed in the rain. He bent down close to the ground, making sure not to set his knee on the wet grass and he sighed again, looking across to the tent, and watching the flysheet get pelted by the rain. When he looked at the back end of the tent he saw a dark mass just under the edge of the sheet. Clint clicked the flashlight on again and shined it at the mass, revealing leather clad feet.
The flashlight clicked off and Clint hung his head, shaking it back and forth as he chuckled. He went to the tent and lifted the stake that held the back end of the flysheet down, revealing Loki huddled inside, knees up and face hidden between his arms. The god looked up tiredly, moving his damp-wavy hair away from his face. Clint shined the flashlight at the ground to see him.
"Your ass wet yet?" He asked with a smirk.
Loki laid his head back down on his arms. "Yes."
"Mm-hmm. Ever had a cold before?"
The god sighed. He was tired and cold and wet, not wanting to answer random questions by a human. "Yes."
"Then you know what's gonna happen to you after a night like this. Wanna be dry and cold or wet and cold?"
"What is the point of my preference? I would think you know the answer."
"I'm asking because you can either stay out here and soak, or get in the tent."
Loki was silent given his choices. Clint shrugged and shoved the stake back into the ground, separating the two with the flysheet again.
"Alright then," Clint muttered and crawled back into the tent, leaving his wet clothes hanging on the rope that held up the flysheet. They'd get a nice wash overnight and dry in the sun. He shimmied into the sleeping bag in his shorts and breathed deep. He was barely awake when he felt Loki cautiously enter the tent and lie down. When the archer fell asleep, he dreamed that night. Usually if he did dream they consisted of a lot of flying. A lot of falling. Either way, it was always exhilarating.
He still flew, standing on the open hatch of a quinjet and watching the helicarrier float before him. He went to grip his bow and was stunned to find it gone from his hand. Confused, he glared at the helicarrier like it was somehow its fault, the image getting blurry from the wind in his eyes. He felt lips at his ear and didn't startle, just barely turning his head towards the voice that whispered,
"Monsters and magic."
He knew who it was, he could see those red lips, even though he really couldn't see them. Natasha. He felt a pull in his chest, hopelessness, and he sighed, looking back at the helicarrier.
"I gotta flush him out," Clint said softly.
"We don't have that long."
And then the fall came, pushed out of the quinjet to fall to into the harsh smack of the ocean. But the dark blue of the deep waters formed solid into the wet, shining concrete walls of the underground lab. Crates and tubes of wiring scattered everywhere. There was only one figure before Clint then, completely blacked out by the blazing blue light behind them. The Tesseract, he knew, though he couldn't see it. The blackened silhouette made no moves and Clint wasn't fearful, but he felt like maybe he should have been. When glowing blue eyes suddenly opened from the shadowed person, tesseract blue, Clint knew he recognized this one too.
"What do you need?" Loki asked.
Clint opened his mouth to answer, but his throat caught, realizing he had no answer. Those blue-opal eyes squinted at him, something daring in them. Something passionate and goading. Clint choked as he tried to answer, seeming as if his tongue had slid back into his throat until he coughed it out.
He coughed himself into the waking world, on his back and choking on his own saliva in a deep snore. The archer snapped awake and hacked out the blockage, sitting up on one arm. Loki sat in the tent by the open flaps, looking up and out into the world. Clint groaned and rubbed his face.
"It's still raining," Loki murmured.
Clint hummed and flopped back onto the ground. "That happens a lot around here. S'why the trees are so big." He gazed up at the top of the tent, thinking about his dream. "Get any sleep?"
"Some." Loki sounded melancholy.
Clint thought be remembered the god sliding in beside him during the night, but it was all very vague. The dream had overpowered him. In a fleeting thought he wondered what he had been going to say to his dream master, and decided that it was best he not know. Instead, he considered their options for the day, and they were slim due to the heavy downpour. They'd most likely stay in the tent and eat the stash of granola bars in his bag. He liked the idea, he could use a down day. Loki sounded like he could use one too. The god watched the rain beating down on the world, bending blades of grass and tossing the leaves of the trees around. He leaned on the ground with his hip, legs folded beside him. Clint laid his head back down and closed his eyes, hearing the pitter-patter of the rain on the tent.
"You okay, sir?"
The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. Clint's eyes flew open and his stomach dropped. He didn't dare look at Loki, thinking he would find that knowing, smug smirk. It was the dream, he knew. The dream had put him back in that place, and with Loki beside him in the real world- the smell of the water, the smell of the leather; he knew that was why he'd said it. Why he'd dreamt it. Clint pushed the anger down that was trying to swell inside him, wanting to kick Loki out of the tent and into the rain and make him freeze to death. But he wouldn't, he couldn't.
Loki spoke softly and without contempt when he answered him.
"I despise inadvertent remarks. They are never what you mean them to be. Yet they fall out of your mouth too easily and serve to embarrass you in front of those you'd need most to not be seen as reprehensible. Fortunately for you, I realize that your words are merely that- a slip of the tongue. I won't fault you for it, Agent Barton."
Clint said nothing in return, settling for throwing his arm over his eyes and huffing. Thunder echoed in the distance and Loki turned his head towards the sound. The archer clicked his tongue and sat up, grabbing his phone and sending a text to Natasha.
Open to jetting us back early? Wanna get home now.
She responded almost immediately, before Clint could set the phone down.
Us. So you both survived... OMW. ETA 1100.
Clint looked at his watch- three hours. He looked at Loki who had turned some to find the source of the beeping noises that were the text messages. Loki looked up at Clint and the archer answered his unasked question.
"Natasha's picking us up in three hours."
Loki turned back to the rain. "I see."
"Yep, so move, I gotta get dressed." He squeezed past Loki and dug around in his pack for dry clothes and whipped them on, rolling up his wet ones left outside and stuffing them in a plastic pouch. He pulled back the long flap of the flysheet that served as their front porch.
"Know how to roll up a sleeping bag?"
Loki looked surprised and he glanced at the aforementioned bag. "I suppose I could learn..."
"Alright, well, you figure it out, I'll start breaking down camp."
The filter bag of water was dumped out over the embers of the fire and had some dirt kicked onto it for good measure. He unfolded a few more clear plastic pouches and used one for the water bag and shower kit and sealed it, stuffing it into the pack. In the tent, Clint found Loki tying up the sleeping bag and he tossed him its cover, waterproof of course, and the god struggled to stuff it in. Clint had to help. Then he gathered his bow and quiver, moving them and the pack under the semi-dry cover of the trees before going back to the tent and taking it down. He directed the god where to help fold and roll, and the tent and pegs were stowed away in another waterproof pouch. The tent and sleeping bag, while they did fit into the pack just fine, Loki was made to carry. They were light and had their own straps to hold, so he didn't feel burdened. Clint shouldered the pack and wielded his bow and quiver as he lead the way through the forest to the pick up point. They walked briskly, always staying close to the trunks of the trees to be out of the worst of the rain. When the field was reached they stayed along the tree-line, waiting for the quinjet. They looked up into the skies, Clint watching for the jet and Loki just watching. The sky was layered in dark grey clouds, still pouring buckets of water. Lightning began to snap across the clouds, quick and pale, with barely-there thunder in its wake.
"Never been able to appreciate thunder and lightning because of him, huh?" Clint guessed. "Most people love it."
"It is refreshing not to have him yelling in my ear about some slight brought to him. That is one good mark for your planet; thunder almost never means Thor."
The archer chuckled. "Yeah, at least we got that going for us. There she is." The quinjet appeared as a tiny black speck amongst the grey and grew until it landed in the middle of the field. The hatch opened in the back.
"Let's go." Clint said and the two hustled through the rain and into the jet.
Clint showed Loki where to stow the gear and reminded him how to strap himself into the seats, much to Loki's annoyance. Natasha watched their interactions with bland interest, catching Loki's eye. With the god safely secured, Clint closed the hatch and went up to the cockpit, slapping the redhead on the shoulder.
"Thanks, Nat."
"Sure. How was your trip?" Natasha lifted the jet off the ground and they started on their way back to New York.
"Great until he showed up." Clint jerked a thumb in the direction of the dark haired god.
Natasha hummed. "He's wounded," She said simply, having noticed the bandage wrapped around Loki's hand and the cuts and bruises on his face.
Clint leaned back in the copilot's chair. "Yeah."
The pilot nodded and understood. The quinjet shook a little with the high winds and a flash of lightning spidered through the clouds above them. Loki jiggled in his chair with the turbulence and muttered,
"Well, this feel familiar."