for halfassed

[dreamsofpoison]

Just how and why Loki was back on Earth was a mystery. There had been no communication from Thor any Asgardian representatives. It wasn't obvious that Loki was back, in fact, his presence could have gone unnoticed if not for, well, mischief.

He'd somehow taken something belonging to one Clint Barton. Something very dear to him. His bow. Said bow now sat on a mantel above the fireplace in his current residence. It was a stone and log cabin. Lodge would be a more appropriate description. Logs make up A frame structures to support the roof. They also provide an excellent place to suspend someone from. Which inevitably happened when Barton followed the little trail of bread crumbs to find his bow and ultimately, Loki.

He's suspended near the fireplace, which is lit. Turned so he can see his bow sitting there on the mantel. He's hung high enough his toes barely brush the ground and apparently Loki took great care in securing his wrists in a specific type of cuff. The kind that would ensure he could keep him there for quite some time without much damage to his hands or wrists. He was stripped of his weapons and all his clothes save for his pants. Hence why he choose the beam close to the fire. It was the dead of winter outside.

As for Loki himself, he stood by the window, watching the snow fall and waiting for the subtle signs his captive has awoken. He's far removed from the armor and leather of before. Instead he's in simple mortal clothes but they still had a certain Loki-esque flair to them.

Comments

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki becomes eerily still when his hair his brushed from temple. There's a little muscle twitch around his eyes like extremely muted flinch. Clint had just punched him a few minutes before after all.

"Oh, How thoughtful," he manages as sarcastically as he can. When the bleeding stops he blows his nose in the most grudging way possible.

"Why do you believe I lured you here?" he asks, instead of answering the question himself. He hadn't forgotten it and he knew it would come up again.

[halfassed]

"Because you act without thinking," says Clint. "You throw away logic when you want to make a point, or get someone's attention, or destroy. Otherwise you would have expected me to do a lot more than punch you."

He sits down across from Loki, in the other chair.

"In short, you don't know a damn thing about humans," he says. "Which, I assume, is why someone made you one. Is that supposed to be your punishment? Because I could think of a few better ones."

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki obviously doesn't agree with that as he rolls his eyes in response. He leans back in his chair like he's barely bothering to listen.

"I know more than enough. You would come alone. You would tell no one of where you went," he says leaning forward menacingly. "You would face me in some misplaced thoughts of redemption. To even the score. Wipe out everything you did under my command. All that guilt but it's not just guilt over all those lives you taken under orders. You think facing me will ease that pain." He spits out the words. This is familiar, safe, territory.

[halfassed]

"I came alone because it's between you and me," spits Clint. "I came alone because you turned my head inside out and never put it back. I don't need to redeem myself. You're the one who destroys everything you touch."

The words are right, partly. But not right enough. Clint is guilty over what he did, of course, but he's also guilty over how he felt. How happy he was that he finally found a commander who felt like a part of him, skin and bone. How he'd finally felt he had a chance to belong.

Loki ruined him. Loki took away any chance he ever had at being happy. Because now nothing will ever compare to what that felt like. No other commander will ever be Loki. And Clint will never trust like that again, ever, not with Loki, not with Nat, not with anyone, because every emotion feels fake and hollow now that that one was knocked out of him.

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki's temper flares for just a moment then he laughs. That old mocking laugh is back. "And just how do you expect me to put it back if I destroy everything I touch?"

He pushes himself up from the chair and moves away. Maybe toward a concealed weapon or maybe he just wanted to move. His body language gives very little away.

[halfassed]

"And what were you hoping for?" he shoots back. "That I would fall back on my knees? That I would tell you what to do, now that you're stuck here? Because I'm not going to."

He moves to his feet, too, and catches Loki's wrist. Twists it, and forces Loki back against one of the cabin's walls. One hand on Loki's chest, and his eyes on Loki's. "You can't even keep me here, can you?" Loki's a hell of a lot more scrawny than Clint imagined, somehow. He was bigger in Clint's memory than he is here, now.

[dreamsofpoison]

He must be close to the mark on one of his guesses because Loki's expression goes very dark and very cold. He's about to say something back when his wrist is grabbed. He struggles, not terribly hard because he doesn't feel his life in danger. He is a skilled fighter even without powers. He's fairly confidant he can wriggle free if he needs to.

So for now he goes along with it. He tilts his head back against the wall like it was his idea to be there. He makes a show of looking completely unfazed even if he didn't feel it. "You are free to leave," he says again.

His other hand, the one not being twisted off, hangs limply at his side but he has set about palming a small knife while Clint's eyes were on him.

[halfassed]

"But that's not what you want."

No reason he should do what Loki wants -- except to hold it over him. Clint doesn't notice the knife. It doesn't occur to him. He feels like the powerful one.

"Apologize to me," he says. "For killing my boss. And you'll buy yourself, let's say, an hour or two."

[dreamsofpoison]

"What?" he utters with honest shock. Now he truly thinks Clint is crazier than he is. "You know it will not be sincere," he points out cautiously.

It does, for now, effectively derail his thought of stabbing him.

[halfassed]

"It should be," returns Clint. "He was a good guy. And I liked him. I don't like many people."

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki relaxes like he's preparing for it. You know, all that pride he has to get around to even get close to apologizing sincerely. Oh, it probably won't be sincere even then.

Ah, well. He sighs and starts to speak, "I really am--" Now is an excellent time to remember his throwing knife. He curls his fingers around it and stabs him in the torso. It's short enough he shouldn't nick anything major. Maybe.

"--deeply sorry." Which ends in a growl.

[halfassed]

Clint shoves Loki brutally and viciously against the wall, yanks the knife out and presses it to Loki's throat.

"You always gotta take it just a little too far, don't you?"

And he tries to slit Loki's throat. Weakened, his arm still wounded, and bleeding out through his ribs. He knows it's probably a futile effort.

[dreamsofpoison]

The shove stuns him momentarily. A painful reminder of his current state. He shoots his hand up just barely in time to prevent his throat being cut open. He gets nicked though. He tries to pry the knife away from him. His other hand goes to the wound to help stem the flow of blood.

"I do regret his death," he admits in a consoling voice. He shouldn't have killed him, he should have taken control of him instead. The one human he never should have underestimated.

[halfassed]

"Fuck you." He struggles, tries to hurt Loki, if he can, but he falls to his knees. Shit. He needs treatment. A stomach wound could easily kill him, in the next ten minutes.

[dreamsofpoison]

He gives a short humorless laugh. When he falls to his knees, he rests a hand on Clint's head in an almost affectionate way.

"You will not be joining him," he says in the same consoling voice. He holds there for a moment then steps away. Really, he will run out of his 'magic healing stuff' at this rate. He only has what he has after Thor argued the point to the Allfather.

Unfortunately, he can't just use mortal first-aid on this injury. He reopens the box and takes a series of packets. He returns to him and tries to push him on his back so he can work on the wound. "How many hours might your life be worth?" he asks, half mocking. He could hold it over him and make him promise all sorts of things for his life. That... should have been a more satisfying thought. It isn't and he's already started sprinkling the stuff on the wound.

[halfassed]

Driven speechless, at this point. Not just because of the injury, but because of Loki. Damn it, god damn it, he hadn't meant to be this vulnerable in front of him. He hadn't meant to give his life back to Loki. Instead, it seems like he's Loki's punching bag again. Shot and stabbed, all in the first ten minutes.

"Not enough for you," he mururs, and he turns his head away, closing his eyes. Not unconscious, not even in danger of going unconscious, but not willing to watch Loki treat him. It's enough feeling him, gracious and sure hands on Clint's skin, the wound that starts to heal over.

[dreamsofpoison]

Another chuckle. Loki finishes his work shortly then smooths over the area with his finger. He silently vows that he'll be saving the rest of the supplies for himself.

But if he could convince him to aid him. Help keep him alive until he regains his powers. That would prove challenging.

[halfassed]

He recovers his breath. Loki's hit a couple of the spots of tension he needs to draw a bow. He's going to be off his game until the muscles heal.

"I'm not your dog," he says. "Won't come at your whistle anymore." He doesn't know if he savors that or regrets it. Either way, it hurts. He's wounded in more ways than one. He sips in a pained breath, and opens his eyes, fixing them on Loki. Not a spark of blue in them. They're not caught in the Tesseract's thrall.

He reaches up and flattens a hand against Loki's shoulder. "I wish I'd never laid eyes on you."

[dreamsofpoison]

"Won't you?" Loki responds in a rhetorical sort of way. After all Clint did show up after he took his bow. Sure, Loki ensured it but he did have the option not to come at all and just ignore the theft. Or tell SHIELD.

He blinks, surprised he's being touched at all. He was expecting another punch to the face, honestly. "Are you expecting me to say the same?"

[halfassed]

Yes, but -- that was part of a plan. That doesn't count.

Right?

"No," says Clint. "Cause I might be the only guy you've ever trusted." Which is a pretty sad life, come to think of it. How many centuries of it, spent being a manipulative, cagey asshole? But he trusted Clint. Relied on him. There's more there than meets the eye.

His hand is stiff. He's keeping Loki a certain distance away.

[dreamsofpoison]

Oh that wins a cold hard glare. True enough as it may be. He had been the most useful and reliable asset. His expression sours and he pushes his hand off him. He doesn't need anyone's help to survive this punishment. This was a test and distraction and no longer fun.

He gets up, picks up the bow and tosses it at him. He's not foolish enough to give him any arrows. He may be wounded but he could still manage a shot.

[halfassed]

He catches it. Muscles of his belly on fire with pain, still, but he's not bleeding anymore. He'll survive.

"If you reactivate any of the old networks, I'll know," he says. "Watch your step, or you might end up bleeding a lot more before this is done."

He's fully planning to leave.

[dreamsofpoison]

A little chuckle despite his abrupt change in mood. "I already have. Where do you think this place came from?" he says simply. It could be lie, half-lie or the truth.

"We are approximately eighty miles from what passes for civilization. Try not to get lost in a blizzard on the way out."

It's true the weather is nasty outside. Cold, snowy and pretty uninviting. The real reason Loki wanted to keep his clothes wasn't for humiliation. And if Barton is intent on leaving he'll find two snowmobiles outside. One doesn't appear to be working while the other is in perfect condition but lacking keys.

[halfassed]

"And how do you think I got here?"

He keeps an eye on the resources he and Loki used, during that whole ordeal. They're still there, dormant, waiting. Connections that could be hooked up again. That's the way Clint sees the world: connections, just waiting to be made. Tasks, just waiting to be carried out.

He takes a coat and steps right on outside. Tries both the snowmobiles, takes a look at what they'd need to be fixed, and curses, quietly, to himself. Don't mind him, he'll be attempting to hotwire the second one until his fingers go numb.

And then, maybe, he'll come back inside.

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki is just gonna hang out inside with the fire and all the food and probably the keys. Don't mind him. He's just chilling.

Actually, he's not hanging around that close to the fire. He tolerates the cold very well, even striped of his powers. He's not idle, there's quite a bit of blood to clean up. Oh he wishes for his magic. He could just wave a hand and it would be clean. He had plans to spend a day or two more here before moving on. It was clear Barton wasn't going to bring SHIELD down on him right away.