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

[halfassed]

He gives Loki a flat stare.

"Really?" he asks. "I gotta draw this one out for you?" Roll of his eyes. "Fine. We'll go with the obvious one: a hawk. The hunter trusts the hawk to do what he's bred and trained to do. Lets it go, because it'll come back. Same with a hound. It'll sleep at your feet but it needs to trust you first. I'm the best there is, but if you take away what makes me the best, then it's you who's the idiot in the long run."

[dreamsofpoison]

He looks honestly amused by that comparison. There is so much he can both say and do to that. It looks like he might start laughing again but he controls himself. "You are my hawk," he says seriously, moving in closer.

[halfassed]

"You want me to be."

Clint's started shivering again. He slides down, re-covering himself with the blankets.

[dreamsofpoison]

"You were and still are," Loki corrects in an irritated voice. He leaves the mattress again. He moves to a chair by the fireplace. Defeating the point of sharing body heat. He may be centuries old but he's far from mature.

[halfassed]

"I'm not," he counters. "Not until you get me to trust you again."

Easier than Loki will think, probably. But it suits Clint to have Loki believe it's difficult.

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki glances back to him. He does find it curious that he just told him that. Like he wants Loki to do something about it. He certainly will but being so plainly told is interesting. He decides not to draw attention to that aspect.

Then he notices his fingers have begun to turn. With that he feels a stab of anger. Why wasn't this taken with his powers? Why did he have some trickle of power left? Why did he still have--

Oh. No. That had better not be the reason.

He closes his hands into fists, hoping the blue wasn't noticed. Again, he returns to the mattress and gets under the blankets. Noticeably more subdued and more concerned with keeping warm.

[halfassed]

Clint sleeps on his stomach, usually. Arms stretched out under the pillow. He turns that way now, and rests his cheek on the pillow. Facing away from Loki.

It means that he's at least not worried about Loki stabbing him in the back. That's something.

[dreamsofpoison]

Oh, yes. Loki is thrilled with the progress if he wasn't preoccupied with getting his fingers back to flesh tone. He settles on rubbing his hands vigorously together in hopes that will help. After not much progress, he experimentally unfolds his fingers to brush them up against Clint.

[halfassed]

Loki just needs to settle down. The two of them can get some rest, warm up without so many arguments.

He reaches out, lazily, flailing under the blankets until he gets Loki's hand. Never should have gotten out from under the blankets -- and there, Clint stuffs Loki's hand under Clint's belly. Now Loki can't move, and it'll be warmer.

[dreamsofpoison]

A bit of struggling over that but he relents. He gives an annoyed huff then settles.

Eventually, he does fall asleep. As the night goes on, more of the blue creeps over his skin. If the fire dies in the night he'll turn completely.

[halfassed]

Clint wakes up slowly. Sunshine streaking through the windows, filtered and bright; the snow has stopped. Loki is snuggled close. He's --

Clint blinks. Squints. Blinks again.

No, he's definitely blue.

Clint shifts, gingerly, moving his weight off of Loki's arm. Holy shit. He really fucked an alien. Like, he'd known Loki was an alien before, but this is alien alien. There are these weird patterns on his skin, somewhere halfway between organic and purposeful, Clint can't tell which. He reaches out, and touches his fingers lightly to the little lines.

They're ridges. Just barely protruding from Loki's skin. Maybe scars, Clint doesn't know. And Loki's skin is noticeably colder than a human being's, too.

Growing bolder, he lets his hand drift under the blanket. There are more ridges down there; they continue all over Loki's torso.

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki shifts, slowly stirring. In the places he's somewhat warmer his skin is pale flesh. The hand trapped under Clint, in addition to being completely numb it still flesh colored. When the touch lowers Loki snaps awake a grabs for whatever is touching him. His eyes open a second later, red. He sits up like he expects a fight. He glances down and--

He recoils. His breathing speeds up, near panic. No.

[halfassed]

Shit. Something's wrong. This isn't normal, or otherwise Loki wouldn't be freaking out.

"Hey," says Clint, flattening his hand on Loki's chest. He's not going to let Loki get up and freak out outside the blankets. He'll bodily pin Loki down if he has to. "Hey, it's okay. What's going on? Talk to me."

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki just shakes his head. He tries to push more of the covers away to see how far it has progressed. He lets out a little strangled sound. How could they have done this?

No. No. He has to calm down. He locks eyes with Clint, still panic. From where Clint is touching him, the pale flesh tone is slowly creeping back over him. It's not until he sees the color returning does he start calm.

[halfassed]

"So touching helps."

Well, this might be something weirdly manipulative. But it's not worth the risk. Clint tugs Loki down, draws him back against Clint's chest, his arm around Loki's waist. More skin-to-skin contact.

[dreamsofpoison]

Yes, touching helps. It also serves to further calm him. Soon pale flesh retakes his body in a slow crawl. After a long silence he finally speaks, slightly muffled against his chest. "As I child, I was told of the Frost Giants. They were creatures to be feared. Hated. Monsters that mothers told their children of at night."

A shift and he curls into him, closing his eyes. "They kept the truth from me."

[halfassed]

Not entirely following here, but he'll keep with it. Maybe it'll start making sense in a little bit.

He did read Norse mythology. There were frost giants. They were the bad guys. He remembers that much.

"What truth?"

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki can't help it, he gives a little humorless laugh. "My true parentage," he says simply. He obviously doesn't want to continue talking about it. He holds out a hand to watch the last of the blue fade away.

[halfassed]

Clint exhales a long breath.

"So that's what the file meant," he says. "It had that Thor called you adopted. I wasn't really sure what to believe." Not really Thor's brother. Would explain a thing or two.

[dreamsofpoison]

"Imagine my surprise," Loki says flatly. His skin has returned completely to pale flesh color but he shows no sign of moving.

[halfassed]

"So that's... another reason to hate him?" Why? Why would it be? Because Thor hates Frost Giants? But he loves Loki. Despite the fact that Clint doesn't believe Loki is much worth loving.

Of course, that doesn't explain his own fucking feelings.

"Or another reason to hate yourself," he says. Without thinking.

[dreamsofpoison]

He had actually started to enjoy just staying like that until Clint said something. Loki pushes away and gets up. He starts digging through the pile of clothing taken from the main bedroom. He slept in his clothes but he wants another layer now.

"How long will the food last? Do you know?"

[halfassed]

"Loki." He hit a nerve. "Loki, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." He meant it. He just hadn't meant to say it. "Well, if I was thinking, I wouldn't have put it so bluntly." Another pause. "I think the blue is cool." I fucked an alien. "It's ... stylish." I fucked an alien.

He needs to give up on this train of conversation right now.

"Should last for another few months, if we stretch it right."

[dreamsofpoison]

That wins him a puzzled look. As far as he's concerned, it was left as a punishment. He is not having this conversation with a mortal, let alone him. Besides, something more important got his attention. "How many months, exactly?" he asks urgently.

[halfassed]

"There's even a thing on Earth called the Blue Man Group." Oh god, he just can't shut it off, can he?

He clears his throat.

"If you count the storage outside," he says, "I'd guess up to six. There's also a cellar door outside, and we should check that. Whoever lived here looks like a survivalist, and that kind generally stocks up downstairs like a bomb shelter." A beat. "Why?"