clint barton sees better from a distance (tobeunmade) wrote in welcomethreads, @ 2014-11-07 22:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | clint barton / hawkeye (mcu), loki laufeyson (mcu) |
Who: Clint Barton and Loki.
What: Clint's not coping well with Phil's departure. Loki takes advantage.
Where: Street of Storybrooke.
When: Early evening.
Rating: PG (warning: mind control).
Status: Complete.
The zombies, or walkers or biters or undead murderbeasts or killhappy fleshbags or whatever pop culture was calling them this week, had been a good distraction. But in the end, they hadn't done much to take Clint's mind off his issues with his husband. He knew, of course, that he wasn't being fair. Phil's actions back home didn't necessarily reflect the man's feelings here. Everything with Grant had been different here and there was no reason to think that Phil would ever do anything close to what he had done, handing Grant over to his brother. But, deep down, Clint couldn't help but worry about many of his husband's actions lately. He'd changed, and Clint was terrified that the changes, a product of the alien substance they'd used to revive him, would start showing here too. That he would lose the man he loved to madness or death.
And even knowing that things were different here, he couldn't let go of his anger on his surrogate brother's behalf. He had seen Phil give everyone a chance over the years, even people most would have given up on. He'd seen it with Skye more often than he could say. Grant being the one exception stung, because he saw so much of himself in the other man. They had both come from abusive backgrounds. They had both trusted the wrong people and made horrible mistakes. The fact that SHIELD had pulled Clint out of that and given him a chance didn't nullify that. Grant had never had that chance. That Phil would turn his back on him and throw him back to his abuser, to suffer and be murdered, it made it hard to be objective. All he could think was that if Phil could turn on someone so easily, what would stop him from turning on him.
Still, that didn't mean that Clint wanted Phil to disappear, and he couldn't help but feel like it was his fault that his husband was gone. Like he had somehow forced his husband away with his anger. And with Grant saying he was going to leave, Clint didn't want to be around the apartment, knowing eventually everyone in his life would leave. It was only a matter of time before Bucky moved in with Steve and Allison decided to be closer to her friends and Nat found someone. It was easier to avoid the place and be alone with his thoughts. He felt so empty with Phil gone. Even if his husband did come back, and remembered everything, he would be coming from their reality. Where he was slowly losing his mind. What good would it do to get Phil back if it was just to watch him lose himself and then die? Clint didn't want that. He'd thought that here, in Storybrooke, they were finally going to have a chance to be happy together. But now it was clear that he'd been fooling himself. Nothing in his life ever worked out so that he was happy.
The zombies being gone at least meant that it was safe to go out, even if it was freezing cold. Winter had come quick and hard, something to do with an ice princess or something? Apparently it was being worked on, but it wasn't so bad that he couldn't take a walk to get some space and clear his head. He'd done ops in Siberia. This wasn't nearly as bad. He'd thrown on a coat and made his way out without saying anything to anyone, just needing to get away for a little while. He didn't want to argue with Phil and he wasn't sure he could see him without arguing, so distance seemed like the best option. He sighed, jamming his hands into his pockets as he walked through the icy streets. He was lost in his own thoughts, not really paying attention to his surroundings, when he knocked into someone else as he turned a corner. It was just his luck really, that he had run into seemingly the only other person out in the weather.
Loki had arrived during the zombie apocalypse of Storybrooke, but he had been making himself scarce. He didn't particularly want anyone knowing he was in Storybrooke, at least not until he was ready to make himself known. He was trying to lay low, get the feel for the town and it's inhabitants. He knew there were members of SHIELD here, and some of the Avengers as well. He had been keeping an eye on the network. Was else was there to do on this blasted planet? Especially when one was stuck in a small town.
It was unusually cold for the month, and Loki was planning on using this to his advantage. Loki was well equipped to deal with the cold, he found it to be rather enjoyable. But he knew that others would seek out warmth, they would choose to remain indoors rather than wander about in the cold.
Loki was stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, his back toward the person approaching. He knew there was someone approaching, he just hoped that it wouldn't be someone that he knew. Or, if it was someone that he knew, he hoped that it would be a beneficial meeting. For Loki, anyway. Perhaps not the other person. There was a slight smirk when Loki felt a body run into his own, and he turned to face the offender.
Clint Barton.
Wonderful.
Of all the people Clint could have run into, this had to be the worst possible situation. He hadn't even known that Loki had returned to Storybrooke. The last he had known, the god had been sent back to his own world. And good riddance, as far as he was concerned. The town was better without Loki around. The younger looking version seemed nice enough, but after having his mind taken over there was no way he would ever trust the incarnation from his own world. If he had his way, Loki would go away and never come back. Preferably because he was dead. It was no less than what he deserved after everything he had done.
But Loki was here, right in front of him, close enough to touch. And the very thought of that made him feel sick to his stomach. Part of him was angry, more angry than he had felt in a long time, but another part was terrified at having the Asgardian this close to him. He knew what Loki was capable of, and he didn't want to give him the opportunity to try anything.
Still, he wanted even less to give Loki the satisfaction of knowing he had affected him. So he forced himself to keep his resting face in place, the hate in his eyes the only sign that he was reacting to the god's presence at all. "And I was having such a good day too," he snarked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I'm guessing you can't just go find another portal and leave? Or is that too much to ask?" He didn't care where Loki went as long as it was somewhere else. The last thing he needed right now was the Asgardian hanging around.
Loki knew that his presence had to have some sort of effect on Clint. What sort of person would Clint be, if it didn't? But of all the people that Loki could have run into today, Loki was almost ecstatic that it was Clint Barton. Almost. He knew that there were agents of SHIELD in Storybrooke, but he had been unaware that Clint was there as well. But wherever Phil Coulson was, Clint couldn't be far behind, right?
There was a slight smirk on Loki's face as he heard the man's words. "Oh, I doubt I am any more pleased about my presence here than you are." That much was true. Loki had been far from pleased when he realized where he was, and that he had no way of leaving whenever he felt the need. Which had been an immediate feeling.
But he was quickly learning that there might be a benefit to being in Storybrooke, Maine. And Clint Barton's presence could very well be one of them. Loki was slightly possessive of the man, though he couldn't place exactly why. Except for the fact that he felt as though Clint was his. No one else's.
"Nice to see you, too."
Of course Clint was affected. Loki had all but ruined his life. He had raped his mind and stolen his will, forced him to turn on everything he believed and made him kill people he considered friends. And he'd killed Phil. Even if Phil was alive now, it didn't change that he had died at Loki's hands. And, if he hadn't died, maybe he wouldn't have changed so much. They wouldn't have to worry that one day the process that had brought him back was going to one day strip him of everything that made him Phil.
"I'm not sure anyone could possibly be less pleased than me," Clint said dryly, wondering why he was even still talking to Loki. It was a stupid risk. But every time the god opened his mouth, he couldn't stop himself from getting angry. He didn't want to walk away and let Loki have the last word after everything. He just wished that he had his bow with him so he could shoot him in his smug face.
Seriously, why the hell was Loki talking like they were friends? That couldn't have been farther from the truth. It made his skin crawl and, as much as he did want to get the last word, a large part of him wanted to run before Loki could pull any of his tricks. No matter what anyone said, he would never let his guard down or allow himself to trust the Asgardian.
"Nice isn't the word I would use."
"Oh, isn't it?" He laughed softly at this. Loki was amused by this situation. He was amused that he had Clint Barton to himself, that Clint was the first person he ran into in Storybrooke. Granted, had he learned of the man's existence in Storybrooke later on, he would have found a way to get himself alone with Clint. But this... this was far too good to be true.
His mind was running through his options, and all he needed was Clint to hang around long enough for him to make a decision. It wouldn't take long for him to do so, but he just needed a small amount of time.
Yes, there was a way. Loki was surprised that he hadn't thought of it immediately. He had lost Clint once before, he didn't want to lose him again. And having Clint as his minion once more would be wonderful. Especially in this town. And he didn't need his staff in order to control the human's mind.
All he needed was to have some sort of contact with the man. Perhaps he didn't need to, but it would work best if he did. So, in one fluid motion, Loki's hand was on Clint's chest. Just for a brief moment. He wanted desperately to control this man once more, though he wouldn't admit to the desperation in it.
This was Clint Barton. He needed to be his.
"Nope," Clint said, making the end of the word pop insolently. He may not have wanted to be near Loki, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be a sarcastic asshole the entire time. Pissing people off was just about one of his favorite hobbies. Especially when the person in question was a grade-a evil bastard who had absolutely earned whatever Clint wanted to throw at him.
"So," he said dryly, "nice weather we're having. You do this? Want to feel more at home or something like that?" He knew, of course, about Loki's history. He'd been Loki's second-in-command when the god had controlled him. He knew all about the fact that Loki was a Jotun, a frost giant, rather than an Asgardian. He also knew just how much Loki hated that fact of his heritage and he had no qualms about throwing that in his face.
The sudden contact threw him off, Loki's hand pressed against his chest. Not that he could really feel it through his coat, but that didn't mean he liked it. The opposite in fact. Having Loki close was bad enough. The god touching him was enough to make him feel sick. In a flash, his hand was raised, grabbing Loki's wrist and jerking the offending limb away from him.
"Don't touch me," he snapped, relying on anger to hide how shaken he felt by the contact. Loki was pushing, and Clint didn't like it. The god was up to something and it put him on edge. Eyes narrowed, he tightened his grip on Loki's wrist, even though he knew it would do little to actually hurt the god. "Now, go away and leave me the hell alone."
"If I remember correctly, you are the one who approached me. You could have easily avoided me, yet you chose not to. I wonder why that is." The logical explanation was that Clint hadn't been paying attention to where he was going, and Loki knew this. It was hinted at by the fact that Clint had run directly into him.
And then Clint's hand was on the not-quite-Asgardian's wrist. Yes, that was exactly what he needed. Skin-to-skin contact. It appeared as though the man didn't quite comprehend the extent of Loki's magic. Either that, or he was too angry to think properly. Either option was legitimate.
Within a moment or two of Loki allowing the contact, his magic started to work its course. A smirk played along Loki's features, this was exactly what he wanted from the moment he realized Clint was in Storybrooke. Clint was his.
Now only if he could ensure that Clint would remain his. Those meddling SHIELD agents would not like this one bit, Loki was certain of that. The agents weren't Loki's biggest fans, nor was he theirs.
But none of that mattered at this particular moment. Clint was the only thing that mattered.
"I sure as hell didn't approach you," Clint argued. "I wasn't looking where I was going. There's a difference. Though maybe not to you. I guess if you're so desperate that you have to go and mind-fuck people to get them to like you, it's hard to make that distinction." He knew he was pushing buttons he shouldn't, but it was hard not to let his temper get the best of him.
His hand suddenly felt cold, colder than it should, where he was holding on to Loki's arm, and he was quick to break the contact. He couldn't believe he'd even let himself touch the god, though he supposed he hadn't really been thinking when he'd done it. He'd just wanted to make him back off.
The smirk on Loki's face made him wary, and he knew the Asgardian had done something, but he wasn't quite sure what. Just that there was no way it was good. But then, nothing with Loki could ever really qualify as good.
"What did you do?" he growled, backing away from the god. "I know you did something...what the hell did you do?" He could feel himself panicking, not happy with the idea of Loki having done anything to him, but at the same time, he also felt cold. Colder than the weather warranted. Cold, like he'd felt when he'd touched Loki's skin.
Fuck. This wasn't good. The others were definitely going to kill him later.
He knew that it had worked the moment Clint broke contact. And the fact that Clint was panicking. The man would probably not have been panicking if he hadn't thought Loki had done something to him. And Loki had a feeling that something sparked that thought in him. But of course it was going to work, Loki knew what he was doing.
"I don't need the staff for mind control, Clint."
He thought that part would have been obvious. He thought that Clint of all people would have realized exactly what Loki could do, would have realized exactly what Loki was capable of. It wasn't as though the man hadn't experienced it before.
But the god was glad that Clint hadn't fully thought things through. Clint was his again, and this time Loki wouldn't give him up so easily.
Clint would be his for as long as he could help it.
He didn't need...Clint felt like he was going to be sick. Of all the things that could happen, this had to be his worst nightmare come to life. He had spent so long, years, trying to get past what Loki had done to him. The idea of ending up in that position again, losing himself and being overtaken by the god's will, was more than he could bear.
"No," he said sharply. "No...just...please...no."
He could barely breathe. His heart was racing and he felt like he might collapse. And through all of it, he felt so cold. It was like there was ice inside him, filling him up and swimming through his veins and making it hard to think. He was drowning in it and he fought against the as best he could.
And then, as suddenly as the panic had started, it faded away completely. All of it. He couldn't imagine why he'd been afraid, because everything made perfect sense. He had purpose and he had meaning, and it was all tied to the man in front of him.
"Hey, boss," he said easily, looking up at Loki.
Loki couldn't be more pleased. It had worked exactly like he had planned for it to, and now he had Clint Barton under his command. He didn't care what the consequences of his actions would be, he didn't care about any of the repercussions. All he cared about was the man in front of him, and the fact that he was now his.
He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face when he heard the man refer to him as boss. That was exactly what he needed to hear.
"Pleasure having you back, Clint."
Now to figure out what to do with Clint, now that he had the man in his control. There were various sorts of shenanigans that he could get into with this, and without anyone having to know it was him. At least, at first. No one knew he was here, no one but Clint. It could all be chalked up to the idea that Clint had changed. Something had happened, and Clint had changed.
But no one had to know it was Loki. Not at first.
In some ways, Clint was relieved under all the control. Maybe this was better. This way, at least, he didn't have to think about Phil and what he had lost. Maybe fading away and letting something else take over wouldn't be so bad. He didn't really believe that, of course, but it was better than dwelling on something he had no way of stopping. Better to just accept it.
"Good to be back," he said dryly.