Disclaimer: I do not own Iron Man 2, Thor, or the Avengers, along with the characters, the quotes, and everything else associated with Marvel.
A/N: Shhh...
Loki's departure took place at the Bethesda Terrace in Central Park.
They arrived before everyone else, Natasha and Clint, across the mezzanine to the terrace. Plus a supervising agent called Joe something at the wheel. A supervising agent. S.H.I.E.L.D had called Banner in last night, much to Stark's distaste, and today Banner had taken the ride along. Another S.H.I.E.L.D car parked behind them full of more 'supervising agents,' as well as Selvig.
Beside her Clint looked out the car window. Their bodies touched, arms and shoulders and legs, only because the third seat next to her crammed Banner's possessions that S.H.I.E.L.D had fetched from Calcutta.
Clint hadn't spoken at all this morning.
He leaned his shoulder against hers—no, not really—just shifting in his seat, looking out at the tip of the Bethesda Fountain from their parked car across Terrace Drive, at the half-visible green-gray angel statue with its spread wings. The sun shone and colored the top of the statue a milky jade. It had shone brighter, hotter the last time they were here, but that was then and this now. Last time he came with confrontations and she came feeling like the sun and wind. This time they both came heavy with confrontations. Just suppressed.
Natasha wriggled her wallet from her jeans pocket and noiselessly picked a few pennies. The copper surface felt cool on her skin. She took Clint's hand from his lap and tucked the coins into his open palm, closing the fingers over them, taking care to go slow and gentle. A lot gentler than she had been with the card yesterday.
He turned to her, looked down at her offer, and smiled the faintest second before that smile disappeared.
Joe something didn't like to talk, neither did Banner, so the car stayed silent.
Rogers wheeled in on a motorbike. Joe something rolled down the window to greet him. Rogers returned the greeting, adding a nod to the others in the car.
Next came Thor and Loki. The latter had a contraption that covered his mouth and stretched around the back of his neck, and a chain swinging, attached to cuffs on his wrists. Another round of tense greetings. Back to silence.
If Stark wasn't the one with the Tesseract they would have long finished by now.
At last he rolled in on a convertible, sweeping into a sudden stop from the other side of the street. At his arrival everyone stirred. He, after all, possessed one of two major departing cargos today.
Thor and Loki moved to the center of the mezzanine. Everyone followed. Clint put on his sunglasses before exiting the car.
As Banner extracted the Tesseract from its case with tongs and secured it inside a cylinder instrument that Selvig held out, and as Selvig then said his goodbyes to Thor and Thor did the same to everyone else, Clint gave the minimal acknowledgement to the entire procedure, fixing his attention instead Loki, who stared back at him. Clint had received a dose of stabilizers an hour ago. It should last to now. Without triggers, at least, it should.
"You'll blind him if you keep staring," she said to him.
He smiled. Looked like he was smiling at Loki.
The Asgardian brothers grasped the handle on either end of the cylinder. A final nod, and Thor twisted his end.
Their image washed with blue; blue veined with white like clear water in the sun. The Tesseract glowed bright enough to cause headaches. The blue consumed their bodies, sending the wisps up, then a final suck from some invisible force in the air, and gone altogether. Not a trace left, like they had never existed.
"They got off easy." Stark was the first to speak.
"He's got Loki to deal with," Banner replied. "That's not very easy."
"That's all perspective. You coming with me?"
"I think so."
Natasha took out Banner's belongings from their car and handed it to him. Meanwhile Rogers approached Stark for a handshake.
"I'll see you again, Mr. Stark."
"Make sure you visit that hot spring in Wyoming I told you about, ok?"
Rogers made his rounds with the rest of the group, then, looking for the first time without an invisible boulder weighing him down, he mounted his motorbike and was off.
Stark waved to Natasha from inside his car. She walked to him, arms crossed. Whatever did he have to say to her?
"I'm not letting Jericho go. Diverting that missile from Manhattan didn't cut it. Just letting you know."
"I'm not one to stop you."
"And what I said about S.H.I.E.L.D? Wasn't wrong about them, was I? Those Hydra weapons. You saw them, too."
"That's not something I'm supposed to care about."
"Of all the hindering words that exists, 'supposed to' is the weakest of the list."
"I don't want to care."
"That's better."
Banner was walking towards them with his luggage. He exchanged a smile with Natasha, and settled in next to Stark. "Did I interrupt...?"
"Nope, you did not." Stark started the engine. He looked behind Natasha, then said to her, "Tell Barton we said our goodbyes. He's... zoning out a little."
They drove away. Natasha turned around and came to stand beside Clint. His palms rested on the stone banisters, and he looked out at the fountain.
"You wanna go down there?" She asked.
He shook his head. Then he raised his fist and threw something in the direction of the fountain. A white spark caught the sun's light and winked, then bounced off the statue's wing and into the sputtering water below.
Still looking ahead, he took Natasha's hand in his for a moment, then let go, stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked to the car.
Some dim fragment of sunlight must have soaked into him. On the drive back to S.H.I.E.L.D Clint grew warmer; leaned into her long enough to not count as accidental, yawned and nuzzled his hair on her shoulder once. It felt as if the events from this past week had stripped from him. From her. He said two words: "I'm tired."
It was enough forgiveness.
When they returned to S.H.I.E.L.D and she was about to part and go to Fury's meeting, he followed her, and when they arrived outside Fury's office he embraced her, tight enough to suffocate. Then oddly he swayed side to side, put his hand on the back of her head and guided her cheek to rest against his shoulder. Of the faculty walking past them he gave no notice. Natasha would have relished it more if not for the eyes that directed their way.
She squirmed a little. He held her still. Kissed her neck. Kissed her hair. Combed through the curls. Gently, gently. She added force in her attempt to withdraw herself. Sensible, self-conscious Clint—he knew better than to behave this way in public, not to mention outside Fury's office.
His hand plastered hot against her back. Then the hand moved and he wasn't so gentle anymore.
Before she could get a word out a sharp pain pierced her neck. Her sight faded. Her mind snapped cl—