Chapter Text
He starts off hating Loki. Well, maybe hate is a little too strong of a word, since the feeling does not match what he feels for his father and his old trainer. But to be captured within the constraints of his own mind and watch as his body destroys those you once worked with, watch as everything he's built up crumbles away under the power of an otherworldly being that controls him now, well, it doesn't please him at all.
It's six months after the London incidents that he decides to take a break. His mind isn't like Selvig's. The Norse god of mischief does not haunt him, does not worsen his grasp on the world. He still never misses when he takes aim, he still can sneak up on anyone and everyone, and he can still control himself. He has nightmares, yes, but considering how he's lived, he figures they're par for the course.
But he sees the concern in Thor's eyes, the cautionary way he diverts conversations away from Asgard when he sees the archer in the room. Clint observes and accepts it, knowing that the Thunderer was only worried.
So Clint takes off. He does it the right way - files for time off through S.H.I.E.L.D., tells all of his teammates how to contact him if need be, packs some clothes with his bow and arrows and goes off in his Dodge Charger.
He explores the United States, making his way through the mostly forgotten parts of the country, impressing people with his skills, stopping small crimes, and generally maintaining a low profile. The archer wonders if he and his brother could have shared this lifestyle if things had gone differently.
He tries not to dwell on the past.
Nightmares start coming more frequently. He attacks the furniture of the motels he stays in, racking up bills in property damage that are definitely going to annoy S.H.I.E.L.D. He never remembers what he's dreaming of, but he often wakes up in a cold sweat, body aching from hitting walls, vases, and dressers.
He doesn't want to go back, not like this, not when he's becoming the one thing that he's trying to prove he's not. And so, he ditches his phone, goes MIA, and hopes the world doesn't need him.
It's all done in the haze of panic.
~-~
He wakes up in his car in literally the middle of a forest, with no recollection of driving there. How long has it been since I left? He thinks as he stretches, joints cracking. He tries to remember, but his brain fails him.
The wind rustles through the trees serenely. A part of him wants to stay. Most of him is afraid of what he's missed. His stomach growls.
"Great. Guess I should head on back." Thankfully the car starts with very little trouble.
He drives back the way he thinks he came, and returns to the nearest town (if it can even be called that).
Glares are shot at him through windows and he assumes his blackout caused him to do some damage here. "Gonna be a long way back." Clint sighs, hoping at least some decent person will take pity on him and show him the way back to New York.
~-~
Asgard
Although repairs have been made, the damage done by Malektih and Thor is still tremendous. The battle is still so fresh in the minds of the Aesir, their losses still weighing heavily on their hearts. The All-father disappears frequently, the people blaming it on the loss of Loki and Frigga, and Thor's rejection of the throne.
"Thor. It is good to see you again." Heimdall greets the prince. As per custom, the gates between the realms was one of the first things restored, allowing Heimdall and Thor to return to their positions as guardians of Asgard.
"As it is to see you again, Heimdall. I wish I was here just to enjoy your company, but -"
"But you need me to find someone." Heimdall smiles as Thor bows his head. "It is fine, Thor. Tell me who it is."
"Thank you, friend. The Eye of the Hawk, Clint Barton of Midgard has been missing. It's been over a month since he was due back. There are no traces of him to be found, as he wished to be alone in the first place."
"He is the friend that Loki commanded when he was on Midgard, correct?"
"One of them, yes. I wish to bring him back to our fellow friends, and find out what happened."
Heimdall's impassive face turns to a frown. "I am afraid that his condition does not seem to be well."
"How do you mean?"
"His mind is fractured. He appears to be suffering."
"Tell me where he is."
-~-
Earth
He can't think straight. He can't see right. The road waves in his vision, one becoming two overlapped. He nearly drives off the damn road and into a tree as his vision blurs more. Suddenly the car isn't moving and he aches all over.
"...rton?" He hears a familiar voice, distantly to his left. "Barton, can you...." He frowns and turns towards it.
"Thor." He mumbles. "You come to rescue me?" He grins crookedly before everything goes dark.
-~-
When he awakens, there's screams and gold and sweet air. It takes a moment for him to register that he's the one screaming. It takes him a few moments longer to stop.
The air tastes of ambrosia and honey and the sea, and while it sounds bad to his mind, it smells like the most beautiful combination ever.
He cranes his neck (and winces because of it) to look around the ornate room. Everything is gold and he wonders if Tony would kiss the walls if he was here.
We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto. Clint thinks, as he looks around.
"Ah. You're awake. Thank you for stopping your wretched screaming." His whole body tenses at the voice, as he slowly turns his head to its origin. The air sours.
"You're dead." He growls at Loki. His hair is longer and his skin healthier, but Clint would recognize those eyes anywhere.
"And you're rude." Loki shrugs and grins as he strides to the bed Clint is in. "And now that we're done with our hellos, let me fix you."
"No way in hell." Clint musters all his effort to get up and punch the trickster. He falls as soon as he stands, a gasp of pain and a wave of dizziness coming over him.
"Now, now, Agent Barton." Loki tsks as he picks him up and lays him back down on the bed. "You've been in a fight with a tree and it won, despite your car's best efforts. You should rest." Clint spits at him, the only way he feels able to rebel. "You need to work on your manners."
"Where's Thor?"
"Midgard; informing your friends and higher-ups about your location and your mental break. Or do you not remember that either?"
Clint shrugs and looks away. His mouth is a firm line. Thor would never knowingly leave him with Loki, which means there's something going on here. The archer quickly deduces. Best not to say anything.
"Agent Barton, are you ignoring me?" He refuses to answer, icy arrows being shot at the gorgeous wall. "Very well." Loki sighs. "You do realize that I am helping you voluntarily of my own will?” Silence. "Do you want to know why?" Desperately, since it makes no sense. "Because you were once mine." Clint steels his jaw, his heart pumping faster as adrenaline courses through him. "You were the best out of the lot. The only one I viewed as truly valuable and worth keeping after I took over your world."
"You're lying."
"Ah!, it speaks." Loki grins ruefully at the human. "And where is your proof? How can you tell when a trickster is lying and when he tells the truth?"
"Easy." Clint turns back to him, his eyes as hard as before. "You never believe he is telling the truth."
"Ah, I believe it has more to do with what I told your woman. About how I'd make you kill her than kill you after letting you see. Is that you supposed proof?"
"Nope. Though it's good evidence isn't it? And Natasha isn't my 'woman'."
"You wish it so, though. I have peeked into your mind, Barton. I know how you think."
Clint goes on disbelieving him. Upping the scale, he closes his eyes. "Don't be here when I wake. Your face takes away from the room."
"And yours simply adds to it." Loki remarks dryly as Clint slowly starts to sleep.
As the human falls asleep, Loki whispers to him, "I do not always lie, my dear human." Clint can't tell if Loki's trying to prove he means no harm or if he's being played. Either way, he still doesn't trust or like Loki and resolves to be ornery as he can.
The last thing he's aware of is a cool hand on his forehead and a weird sense of relaxation sweeping through him.
-~-
He doesn't wake up screaming. The nightmares were still there, but their intensity had fallen, allowing the archer to actually feel a bit rested when he wakes up. His eyes still closed, he grumbles as he realizes that he's no longer on the soft, luxurious bed of before. The ground is cold against his skin, making the sweat from his sleep even chillier. The air caresses him, making him shiver as it blows on his sweat. He's aware that he's naked, and curls into a ball with a groan. He sleeps more.
Someone prods him awake and he automatically grabs and snaps their wrist in retaliation.
Loki hisses. "That hurt." Then there is pain in his side. A kick to the ribs? Probably. Clint laughs.
"This how you wake up everyone in Asgard?" He asks, his eyes still shut.
"Only those that need to be awakened before they roll off the balcony." Clint's eyes snap open and he groans at the bright sunlight. He is outside though, and when he turns his head, he can see the room he'd been in beyond Loki's legs. "Perhaps next time I will just let you roll off. It'll spare me some pain and the trouble of restoring your mind."
Once again aware of how naked he is, the human does his best to protect his privates, which is met by a small snort from Loki.
"Come now, Agent Barton, I've been through your entire mind and you're afraid of me seeing your body? I care more about your skills than your physical attributes." There's a twinkle in his eyes.
"Are you seriously hitting on me?" It's incredulous, the way that Loki cares not about everything that happened between them. That he dismisses it in favor of, of all things, flirting with the man that he was kind of holding captive.
"No no no, of course, Agent Barton." Lies. And obvious ones at that. He's playing with your mind. "Now, can you stand? Or do I need to get some assistance for you?" The trickster asks mockingly. Clint glares at him and slowly stands, his hands still covering his front. "Ah, good. Much better than three days ago. Now, follow me."
"Wait, what? Three days ago? Are you saying I've been asleep for three days?" Shit. Whatever had happened to him had been bad.
"Yes, Agent Barton." There's a bored sigh in Loki's voice. "Now if you come back to bed, I will explain why to you."
He unsteadily steps forward. Teetering, Clint slowly makes his way back into the room.
"Let me hel-"
"No."
"It would make this all a lot quicker and easier on you."
"Dun care." Clint grumbled as he took a few more unsteady steps. "I'm gonna do it myself."
"Fine. If you fall though, do not expect me to catch you."
"Whatever, your Highness." He makes it to the bed and slowly eases into it.
"Are you done with your show of machismo, Agent Barton?" Loki asks, bored. Despite his threat to not help, he had been next to Clint every step of the way. Clint nods his answer and Loki claps his hands together. "Good. Now let's discuss what's being going on with you."
Clint snorts and Loki raises an eyebrow. "You sound just like a psychologist. You gonna look inside my head some more?"
"No because I presume parts of it will be empty now. Oh don't give me that look; your mind is fracturing. It's deteriorating most likely caused by possession. Thor told me all about how you've been acting. He also told me about that professor I'd possessed during my time on Midgard. As we both know, the scepter affected him poorly afterwards. I had thought that perhaps you would be immune to the after effects, but it appears that it just needed time to fester inside you and prey on your hidden weaknesses.
I believe that there is a way to restore you to your usual charming self, but I will need to use magic on you to -"
"No magic."
"Excuse me?"
"No magic." Clint shrugged. "It's that simple. Last time I encountered magic, it was you using me. Do you really think I'm going to let you use magic on me again?"
"You will, Agent Barton, or you can live out your days haunted by this more so than you are haunted by everything you've done in your life." Loki's tone is dark, his voice insidious, and eyes catlike as he leans forward. Clint doesn't flinch or look away. "Your team will see it first hand for themselves as your mind destroys itself and your body reacts abnormally to your lifestyle. You could walk off that nice, ledge-less Helicarrier in a haze and die before anyone is aware of what happened to you. Your psyche could snap and cause you to harm innocent people. And we both know how well you react to that." He pauses, standing back again, regaining his physician like stance. "Now, are you certain you do not want magic?"
"I'm not changing my mind, Loki. I don't trust you."
"Well it's glad that I didn't really plan on letting you have a choice." The Jotunn moves quickly and hold down Clint's limbs with magic bonds. "Now, I am doing this for your own good. Relax or this is going to feel far worse than anything you've experienced, and I know what you've been through, Agent Barton."
"Fuck you." It's his only option of rebellion left aside from steeling his mind. He tries to thrash as a hand comes down over his eyes.
"We can get to that later if you'd like." Loki murmurs. "Now hush, I need to concentrate."
And so Clint babbles the entire time. He tells Loki how much he hates him, how when he'd heard of Loki's death, he had rejoiced and celebrated by himself. He tells Loki of all the ways he plans to hurt him when they recapture him and finally he screams when he feels electric energy crawling through his mind. He screams louder as it digs into him, causing memories, both pleasant and horrid to flash before his eyes. "Ah." He hears Loki and he cannot scream anymore. The pain hasn't stopped but his voice is gone, so all he can do is try to breathe in his agony. The energy removes something from him, dragging it along out of him. When it leaves completely, he whimpers and sags in his bonds. In Loki's had a shard of bright familiar blue has appeared.
"It seems as though the scepter tried to remain in you. It liked you so much that it burrowed into your psyche." With a wave of his other hand, Clint's released and allowed to relax into the comfortable bed. "That was the hardest part, Agent Barton. Rest now. I will have food and a bath ready for when you awaken next." With a few gasps, Clint weakly nods and passes out again.
When he next wakes up, he's still in the bed. There's clothes placed on a chair near the bed and a note rests on top of them. He throws it and pulls the chair to him, dressing under the blankets before cautiously standing. He feels loads better; his head has a dull throb but his body is better, recovered from its previous pain.
He decides to escape. He knows he isn't in a prison, or even a medical area. The room is presumably one of the guest rooms in the castle, meaning he doesn't need to worry about the guards if he leaves through the door. But he knows that Loki would come and find him if he left that way. It'd be too easy to be tracked if he left like that. So he goes out to the balcony.
The view is breathtaking. The city is far away and only water is below him, but the currents are harsh and rapid, and the drop is at least ten stories high. There are no places for him to grab and climb on the outer walls of the luminous building.
In sum, he's trapped.