To my wonderful reviewers! Thank you for sticking with me on this!
discordchick
khaitosfren
Ms. Hawkeye
I CAN HEAR THE DRUMS
PART 2
Chapter 12
February 20th, 2029
Flying in the emptiness of space, in a ship no larger than a dump truck on the inside, was a peculiar sort of loneliness. Despite the filled worlds in the distance, the bursting life of suns, star streams, comet tails, and stellar creatures, the feeling of being utterly cold and alone permeated. Being trapped in a ship with none other than the endless trickster, Loki, himself was like cursing Clint to live in purgatory. They passed through the first portal together without incident, despite Clint's inclination to through them into a tailspin, and arrived just beyond Xandar. Recent reports stated that the Guardians of the Galaxy team had evacuated their little crashed on world in the Oore system and might be on their way toward Galaxy Red. Clint plotted them a course down through the interstellar map in a weaving path. It might be weeks before Quill showed up again on their radar.
He attempted to turn the controls over to autopilot from day one, but for some reason the minute they passed through the Vanaheim portal, the ship decided the autopilot wasn't worth its upkeep. Clint and Loki took shifts at the helm in literally the longest road trip in existence. Over time, trapped in cramped quarters with no way to escape, forced to pilot a ship for a long stretch of time with two men who were once, and still were, enemies was like trapping a lit barrel of gunpowder in the back of an armored car. Loki hardly slept, as was his Frost Giant nature. Still, they took twelve hour on, twelve hour off times. Clint ate behind the wheel, exercised for an hour and a half, slept, exercised for two hours, and sat behind the helm again. It was a droll, prison like existence, but it was their only option.
During his one opportunity to sleep, Clint heard Loki calling out for him. He rolled over, dragging their shared blanket up to his shoulders. "Fly the ship, Loki." He mumbled back.
"Barton."
Clint groaned, dragging the pillow over his face.
Two fingers prodded down at his shoulder. Loki's voice came closer to his ear. "Wake up." The Frost Giant ordered.
Clint turned over very quickly. Loki, the real Loki and not his phantom disguise, towered over him. Barton shot up and looked at the control panel. "You had one job! Get back at the wheel!" He untangled himself out of his blankets and stumbled to the pilot's chair. Before he could fall forward on his face, Loki grabbed him around the waist and set him up right again.
"Relax yourself, we are not plummeting toward a star, I have fixed our flying capabilities and we can remain free from our tedious duties." Loki said.
Clint pulled out of his grip and stepped away to find his scattered wits. He rubbed his eyelids with the palms of his hands and itched through his hair. "Say that again."
"I have repaired our piloting system." Loki repeated. He swept his hand to the side and indicated the steady flight path.
Clint looked over his shoulder and found they were, in fact, neither being attacked by Kree warship nor were they crashing into a sun. He didn't find the Milano, the Infinity Gauntlet, or even a chocolate éclair pie. Those five things were the only five things that Loki was allowed to disturb him with per their rules over Clint's sleeping schedule. "Are you telling me you woke me up to show off your repairs?" Clint asked turning on him. "Seriously?"
"I thought you may like the chance for our hands to be free." Loki replied, his proud face beginning to crumble under Clint's obvious lack of enthusiasm.
"I was dreaming. About Natasha, a beach, and I even had a cheeseburger in my hands, ready to go. Loki I could kill you." Clint stole the blanket off the floor, wrapped himself up and would have literally jumped back into the bed if he could. The cot was nothing but canvas fabric over a military framework. He settled for sinking onto it sideways. He groaned into his hands. Getting to sleep had always been a problem for him. In the past, the instant he reached that plane, waking again took an atom bomb going off in his bedroom. He was deaf then. Since having his hearing returned by the healing hands of the Sarhorn race, not only falling asleep, but staying that way, took considerable effort. He wasn't used to hearing everything going on in a room and if he didn't want to, he would just take out his hearing aids and pretend nothing at all was happening. He never thought he'd miss being deaf, but in some ways he did.
"Your lack of enjoyment is disconcerting." Loki said, folding his hands.
"Because I'm gonna kill you. That's why." Clint looked up from beneath the shade of his eyelashes. "Look, we've been over this. I did not bring my noise canceling headphones. That means every word you say, this super hearing they call normal amplifies in my brain until I can't even think. When I actually sleep, I need to stay asleep. Or else you get cranky Clint Barton in the morning."
"We are in space, morning is a figment of your mind." Loki replied in dejection.
Clint's hands dropped from his face and hung over his knees. "One more crack and I will, literally, hurt you."
"So violent when you don't get your mortal sleep cycle!" Loki exclaimed. He turned away, throwing his hands into the air, and dropped onto the bench across from the archer. He crossed his arms over his chest. The cabin was cold, like most of space. He had the good fortune of being a frost giant and unaffected by it. That did not mean Clint was similarly unaffected. The constant cold, close quarters, and exhaustion was taking its toll and it was easy to see that. "I remember some of those evils you completed under my influence. I now consent that your sleepless nights as my aid may have factored into your own brutality. How long did it take you to recover?"
Clint's eyes darkened. "You're playing with fire, Frost Giant. Stop while you can."
"Did you enjoy facing your red-headed bride with knife in hand in anticipation of gutting her like she feared?"
Clint sprang to his feet, called his bow and found an arrow on its string. He pulled back, his shoulders tight and stance rock hard. There was no sign of tremor or falter in him.
Loki leaned forward, bringing the standard tip closer to the point of his nose. He smiled, not because he didn't think Clint would fire. After all, Barton had done that to him once before. They'd been on Asgard then. Clint had inadvertently fallen into league with a horrible, manipulative Asgardian enchantress. Without Loki's help he might have even been forced to murder Thor and Odin both. The Avenger did not exactly appreciate having to result to asking for Loki's help. Loki had egged him into it, insulting him enough to push Clint over the edge. If he wasn't careful now, Clint might add a second scar to the one he'd shot into his shoulder those years ago. He waited to see what Clint might due. Barton did let the arrow fly, however he fired into the supply box just over Loki's forehead. He shaved off a trail of hair which disturbed Loki more than the fact that Clint fired the arrow at all.
Loki rubbed the top of his head. "That was very mean. I did not threaten you with my dagger."
Clint let his bow go and it disappeared into thin air. "Stop this grandstanding. Seriously, you know it doesn't work on me." He dropped back onto the cot and brought his blanket around his bare arms again. "We both know that mind stone went two ways." He whispered.
A darkness dropped between them. It was thick and palpable, like the ax of an executioner falling. They could go on with the conversation, pretend Clint hadn't brought their deepest secret into the recessed track lights of the ship's interior, but that would be a lie to themselves. Maybe it was time, after so many years, to air out that dirty laundry they suppressed.
"An unfortunate, unforeseen event." Loki's chin lifted defiantly. He wanted to travel down this line of questioning about as much as a lobster wanted to be boiled alive.
Clint stood again, pulling the blanket a little tighter into his chest. He looked out the front viewport at the stars streaking by as they cruised through the galaxy at light speed. At least they were finally making faster time. "You can't pretend it didn't happen. As much as you want to be that difficult, ruthless, heartless, murdering backstabber, I know the truth. I know it like Thor used to see it before you destroyed his trust forever." Clint leaned in the back of one of the pilot's chairs. "That was your fault."
Loki's hands became fists but he said nothing.
"I know what you fear. Losing that pretty scalp of yours. And you know what I fear. We're even. We always have been whether or not you care to admit it. That doesn't mean you didn't screw me up for a very long time. You did. I'm sure that makes you feel better."
"In some ways it does." Loki said without the same enjoyment in his voice.
"I'm glad I could make you smile. Look, Loki, I'm not going to pretend I have no clue what you're up to. You want the gauntlet and to get it you think you need to stick with me. That's a smart idea in some ways. The trouble is I know your game and I'm not going to let you have it."
Glad to be along another track of conversation, Loki leaned back and stacked his boots, one on top of the other. He sighed. "Oh, my poor mighty plan thwarted once again by the archer. Whatever shall I do to recompense this mistake? I will have you know that my only aim in all of this is not the control of that monstrous weapon. I value my own skin and surely it would more likely entertain my own destruction than control of the galaxy. And beyond that point is this: the Infinity Gauntlet, despite all its powers, can do nothing to stop Galactus. What would be my gain in achieving a universe of which I cannot rule?"
Clint considered his words. "That's weird. I actually believe you. I must be going native."
"Perhaps you believe me because I speak the truth."
"Unlikely, but I grant you that small, infinitesimal, possibility." Clint turned the copilot's chair around and sank into it. He pulled his knees up to his chest, yawned, and draped his head on the side rest along the back of the chair.
Loki might have spoken again, but decided against it. His interim roommate was tired and he was also correct. A cranky Clint Barton became a far more disagreeable lodger than a rested one. After a time, when it appeared he'd fallen back to sleep again, Loki picked up the blanket from where it fell. In a few hours when Barton woke, he planned to deny wrapping it over the archer.
SO WHAT IS CHANGING HERE IN PART 2? excitement, danger, the Herald's of Galactus. Clint's father returns! Peter is found! Earth under attack! Holy Crap!
Please review! I'm working hard on this sucker. just want to make sure it's going on all right:)