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Clint cursed under his breath as he rushed up the stairs, not wanting to risk the elevator, not after the beating the tower had taken. Granted Clint didn’t exactly climb stairs like a normal person, preferring to use his circus training, especially after the beating his psyche had taken the last couple of days.
He needed to get to Loki.
He needed to get to Loki right the fuck now before the others showed up. The scepter might have been out of Loki’s hands but if Clint wasn’t quick about this then he might not be able to save the other man’s mind.
Clint had been mostly conscious even through the blue fog that had dug its way into his mind, he remembered what Loki looked like on the ride out of SHIELD. He’d been weak, barely able to walk, skin pale and clammy as the magic of the scepter and the injuries he’d sustained in the black wore him down.
He’d had a fever too and running been on over a week without sleep. Clint hadn’t found that out until later but he was still concerned. He still worried about the way Loki swayed like he was too dizzy to stand and favored one side of his ribs. Still concerned about the constant, ever changing color of his irises.
The first order was the most important, Clint knew that much, the scepter had given him that much. Most of the grunts were told to serve, to fight, to obey. Selvig had been told to create a machine capable of bringing the Chitauri to Earth and like any good scientist he gave it a kill switch encase of disaster.
Clint’s order, the first order Loki ever gave, had been different, personal, straight from Loki himself rather than a part of the overall plan. The horse, desperate, half mad “Protect me, please,” still rang through his mind in little aftershocks that had nothing to do with the clawing blue fog of the scepter.
Loki hadn’t eaten at first, just sat and trebled ever so slightly even though he was hungry, starving even. Clint had had to bring him food, tend his wounds, try to convince him to sleep, watch him scream himself awake, watch him converse with the thing on the other side of the scepter.
Protect. That was the order.
PROTECT. That was his purpose.
PROTECT . It was the only thing he wasn’t able to do and it was all the damn scepter’s fault.
All Loki had wanted was someone to hide behind, someone to fight for him, someone on his side after being beaten up and beaten down and abandoned by those he called family. When those who were supposed to support him, instead knocked his legs out from under him.
Clint… Clint could relate to that.
Clint scrambled over the railing to the penthouse floor, crashing through the door and into the common area, bow raised and a snarl on his face. He paused before carefully lowering his bow.
Loki was the only one in the room and had dragged himself carefully out of a crater in the floor to lean against a wall. He looked like hell, like he’d definitely broken something else since Clint last saw him.
“Hello, little hawk. Come to kill me?” The god managed to croke out and Clint was down on one knee in front of him in what felt like half a second.
Carefully he put one hand under Loki’s chin so he could tip his head up and meet his eyes. His beautiful, blessedly bright green eyes.
When Clint was young his mother had a pair of earrings, tiny little things but they were a beautiful leaf green like oak trees in early spring. His father had always scoffed and called them cheap glass. He hadn’t found out until later, long after they’d been sold for booze money, that they were made of peridots.
Loki’s eyes looked exactly like those stones had and Clint let his forehead to press forward to rest against the other man’s. Relief washed through his body, warm and slightly fuzzy as realization that they were both okay, they were out from under the scepters control.
“Oh thank everything.” Clint whispered under his breath.
The elevator dinged.
Clint was on his feet, arrow drawn back and aimed right at Thor.
Everyone in the elevator froze.
“Okay, I did not expect that.” Stark, predictably, was the first one to voice his opinion.
“Barton?” Nat asked.
“Nat,” Clint’s stayed steady, “What color were my eyes before you knocked my head in?”
“Blue.”
“Selvigs?”
“Blue?”
“Okay, Barton, what’s your point here?” Rogers asked.
“What color are Loki’s eyes?”
“Blue.” Nat said.
“You are mistaken, my brother’s eyes are green.” Thor boomed.
“Yeah, they are, right now.” Clint said.
“What are you-” Stark started to say and then blinked. Clint watched as thoughts passed across Stark’s face like mist on a river. “JARVIS, can you run a simulation of exactly how long an invasion force would have taken to get through that portal if it was over say Iowa and what the response time would have been for the United States military. Rough estimate, not exact.”
“Now you’re getting it.” Clint’s arms were starting to hurt but he refused to lower the arrow until he knew the man behind him was safe. It had been the same with Nat when he’d brought her in, he’d fought like a wild cat to keep her safe and he’d do the exact same thing for the man behind him, even if his opponent was far stronger this time around.
“Sir,” The robotic voice of JARVIS said, “I believe that if the younger Mr. Odinson had in fact launched his attack over the central United States it would remain relatively unnoticed until approximately 2.59 hours after activation. The military response time would not be fast enough to prevent a significant portion of the Chitauri army from exiting the portal.”
Stark waved an arm at the two of them and Clint tensed up, tracking the repulsor with his eyes, “Gentlemen and lady, the god of mischief.”
“Trickery actually,” Clint corrected and rolled his eyes when he gets a raised eyebrow from Stark. “Look, just because I was circus trash doesn’t mean I stayed that way.”
Because yeah, after the whole Thor incident in New Mexico he’d done his research. He hadn’t particularly liked what that research had lead him to either but he couldn’t change the past.
A hand snaked around his ankle from behind and squeezed lightly, enough of a warning that Clint wouldn’t flinch when Loki grabbed his belt and pulled himself to his feet. Not that Clint would have flinched anyway, he was hyper aware of the other man’s movements in a way he normally wasn’t.
“If you’ll excuse me, I believe I will be taking that drink now.” Loki leaned forward a bit to place a kiss under Clint’s jaw.
Clint’s face went bright red as he lowered his bow and started to help Loki over to the bar. Steve looked scandalized, Thor started opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Stark leered, and Nat made an exasperated sound.
“Really, Clint, I leave you alone for a few days and you manage to get yourself a date.” She quipped.
“Shut up,” was Clint’s oh, so witty come back.
“What can I say, the hawk is a wonderful specimen of Midgardian breeding.” Loki purred.
In the end it took three days to sort out the whole “Loki was also brainwashed you idiots” situation. In that time he had somehow managed to win over the public, make friends with most of the internet, win poker against the SHIELD agents sent to guard him five times, and had talked Clint into making out in front of Thor twice.
Fury was getting that eye twitch that told Clint he was thinking of shooting the lot of them in the head, Clint had been the cause of many an eye twitch. Coulson had come out of surgery with zero complications and immediately began trying to do paperwork. Hill actually had scheduled leave to go see her sister’s wedding and immediately peaced out right before the first “So you tried to nuke New York” meeting.
But none of that compared to what happened when Jane showed up.
“Do you want a vacation, little hawk?” Loki asked as he stared at the woman making her way over to Thor.
Clint looked up just in time to see the punch Jane delivered to Thor’s gut, “Yeah, I think that might be for the best.”
“Excellent, I’ve been meaning to introduce you to Hela.”
“Wait. What?”