Chapter Text
Natasha would've laughed, despite the horrible timing of it all. No, actually, she would've probably tortured him with the consequences of his own actions for a bit before pulling out a fresh set of hearing aid batteries. Saving Clint's ass for the millionth time.
He would have to tell her over drinks when the mission was done. It was going to be funny in hindsight.
… Not so much now, though.
Clint's new Boss was a visionary, but he doubted the alien Prince would find this situation funny. And Clint really didn't want to be benched. Not for this. This was too important.
So he delegated. Pushing everything that needed functional hearing onto someone else with a crisp arrogance. The other SHIELD agents were happy to help. Some of them even catching on and talking slower – this wasn't the first time Clint's hearing aids were on the fritz. The annoying part was the mercenaries.
Their attitudes weren't great to begin with. Being respectless, undisciplined, and arrogant were just part of that particular breed's charm. But it was more than that. They just didn't get it.
Their Boss was going to change the world. It was amazing, life changing work. And they got the chance of being here for it all… but they were just here for the cash.
Stupid is as stupid does, right?
And, ugh, he knew these types of assholes weren't exactly well-mannered, but could they stop fucking mumbling? It was driving Clint insane. At least it was loud in the warehouse. Clint wasn't the only one yelling “what?!” over the noise. Between the constant movement and unpacking of cargo and the din of scientists and engineers fiddling with the Teseract, no one had called him out on not being able to hear shit.
Erik Selvig was great, though. Nothing like someone talking in their second language to slow them down and understand the virtue of speaking clearly. He could do without all the scientific jargon, though.
“And what is that? How do you spell it?” Clint frowned.
“Oh, right.” Selvig gave an apologetic grin and took the tablet from Clint. “It's an iso…” (was that an m? Isotope? no?) “of ilso…” (????) “that's needed to…”
(Okay, no, nevermind, Clint was just going to nod politely and wait for the scientist to type out the details when he was done with the explanation.)
He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced at where Rumlow was scowling to himself. Obviously waiting for his turn with Clint's attention.
“Sorry, Dr Selvig, I’m going to have to cut you short. How about you write down everything you need and we’ll talk about the details later?” Clint interrupted whatever explanation the scientist was in the middle of.
“Of course, that’s a good idea.” Selvig agreed easily. “I might need to talk to Loki about the designs, though. The equations the Tesseract showed me are,” Selvig’s blue eyes grew brighter as he gave an uncertain but excited smile. “In(something?)ble, but I need some clarification on a few points.”
Rumlow started talking without warning, making Clint miss the first part of the sentence:
“... busy in his room.”
Selvig frowned in concern; “Has he eaten anything yet?”
“Don’t know.” Rumlow shrugged. “He was talking to someone, but I couldn’t see who.” The glance he gave Clint told him there was more to the story than he could say in front of the lab rats.
“I’ll check on him and let him know you want to ask him about the Tesseract.” Clint decided, prompting a relieved smile from Selvig and something that might have been grunt from Rumlow (or a hiccup). Either way, Clint nodded a farewell to Selvig and followed Rumlow further away from all the prying ears of the mercenaries. Only for the agents to start murmuring at him in a way that made lip reading impossible.
“Speak up.” Clint said in irritation.
Rumlow shot him a glare, but did start speaking clearly again; “He’s worse off than we thought. Looks better, but I saw a lot of bloody bandages before he magicked them away.”
“Fuck, did he say anything to you?” Clint scratched at the back of his neck. They needed the Boss in working order for this to work. Everything depended on his magic to a degree. At least, the part of the plan Clint knew about.
“Nope,” Rumlow shook his head. “Same BS he gives everyone. He’ll handle it himself. But I think he ate some of the crackers you brought him.”
Well, at least all of that cajoling was worth something.
“I'll see what I can do.” Clint said, brushing past Rumlow to head over to the smaller packroom Loki had claimed for himself. Immediately, everything went blessedly quiet as he came closer, cutting out the low hum of everything that Clint kept straining to hear despite knowing it wouldn’t do him any good. There was still the muffled sound of voices raised above a now inaudible din, but all the extra noise had been filtered out by some kind of magic set around the door. Clint took a moment to savour it. Then looked down at the ominous blue glow seeping from underneath the door – no, not ominous, calming – and knocked quietly. He didn’t pause before opening it – couldn’t hear an answer anyway – and stepped into the fizzing air of the room.
The dusty packroom was dark and cast in a dizzying combination of deep shadows and blue light that glowed somehow brighter than should be possible. Clint caught a flash of marble white skin bathed in blue. Stretched thinly over vertebrae and ribs. Mottled with bruises and slashed with cuts. The wounds looked nearly black in the saturation of blue light. Glistening bone shot through with glowing green fractures glinted as Loki took in a sharp breath. His head turned away from the Scepter to cast his face in shadow as glowing blue eyes bore into Clint’s soul.
Then it was gone. The room plunged into a soft twilight as Loki adjusted the collar of the leather coat he hadn’t been wearing a moment ago. Still with his back turned to Clint.
“Rumlow said you wanted to see me.” Clint lied quickly, before Loki could start talking first. “We might’ve got our wires crossed, though.”
Clint became aware of his heart pounding in his chest for some reason. His body breaking out in a cold sweat as those cold blue eyes turned to glare at him with such contempt. It’s just irritation, it’s nothing to worry about. I deserve it.
The light flicked on with the barest twitch of Loki’s finger. A low hum seemed to reverberate inside Clint’s chest as the alien Prince turned his regard to rest on him. He stalked towards Clint, his pace unhurried. All the gaunt planes of his face filled in. His eyes bright and alert above smooth, unblemished skin. Eyes cold as arctic ice. And he was… speaking. But Clint wasn’t getting any of it.
He blinked, tried to focus past the weird way his muscles were urging him to do something. And Loki came ever closer, still not making any sense as his lips moved. Still looking like death taken form.
But then Loki stopped. Looming over Clint as he looked at him with a shadow of a frown creasing his brow. A calculating gleam in his cerulean blue eyes as they raked over Clint's frail mortal frame.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen…” the apology died in Clint’s throat as Loki tilted his head to the side. His eyes flitting away to stare at something unseen before turning back to Clint with a gaze just as weighted, but… shifted.
A honed smirk curved Loki’s mouth as he raised a hand:
«You can’t hear me.»
Clint blinked, staring at where Loki’s long graceful fingers had drifted out of the last sign. It sure as hell wasn’t ASL. Too articulate. Too smooth. Like something had plopped the meaning of the sentence into Clint’s head.
«Understand you how?» Clint signed back, feeling awkward and clumsy with his far more expressive signs and facial expressions.
Then something weird happened. Loki’s smirk softened into something uncertain. He stared at Clint for a moment before looking over his shoulder at the Scepter. When he looked back at Clint, he blinked a few times, as if refocussing his eyes. Only then, Loki turned his full attention on him.
Clint felt his spine prickle as it seemed to hold instead of crush.
Something had changed, but only Clint’s lizard brain could tell what. Loki’s gaze was still heavy, weighted in a sense Clint had never experienced before. But now it was somehow easier to bear. Smoothing the raised hair on the back of Clint’s neck.
«Your species is not the only ones with those unable to communicate with speech or sound.» Loki’s signing sped up, but Clint had no trouble keeping up. «Asgardians use Allspeak to communicate across language barriers. But it functions through sound alone. The Vanir devised an alternative in the same way you have.»
«Before, not English you speak.» Clint realised.
Loki inclined his head, lips curving into something resembling an actual smile: «Correct. And you were attempting to decipher my speech from my lip movements. A clever adaptation, but not one conducive to Allspeak.» Loki frowned briefly and absently touched his own ear. «You have a device that temporarily mitigates your deafness. May I see?»
“Sure,” Clint said easily and carefully removed the one on his bad (well, worse) ear. “The batteries died and I don’t have my spares with me.” He placed the hearing aid in Loki’s waiting palm.
Something in Loki’s face eased as he looked down at the small piece of technology. His green magic danced over his skin in fine wisps and tendrils that slithered inside the casing. The hearing aid started floating, Loki still staring at it intently as he let it hang in open air to sign at Clint without looking away.
«I would prefer if you keep using your own sign language.»
«Why?» Clint frowned. «You hear.»
«So do prying ears.» Loki answered distractedly before twisting his fingers, which caused the hearing air to neatly dismantle itself and hang suspended in the green glow of Loki’s magic.
«A simple design. But clever for its size and adaptability.» Loki commented. It wasn’t a compliment exactly, more an acknowledgement of something that wasn’t entirely unexpected.
Clint felt himself stiffen involuntarily as that gaze slid back to him. Even in the low light and the glow of his green magic, Loki’s eyes were a beautiful alien blue.
«Would you like me to heal your deficit?»
Clint stared at him for a few heartbeats, thinking too many things to pick apart how that statement sank in.
«You heal yourself?»
Loki smiled blandly, yet the edges grew sharp in a way Clint thought only Coulson could pull off.
«I need a conduit to heal myself. The body recognises its own seidr and twists control of it away when applied to one’s own tissues. I was constructing a network of healing workings that will continue to heal me, even during battle, when you entered unannounced.»
A conduit. Clint’s eyes were immediately drawn to the Scepter. Waiting for Loki in the other corner of the room. The blue magic undulated serenely around the glowing core. But Clint’s stomach twisted with… something as he stared. It seemed to draw him in. Like standing on the edge of oblivion and… Clint tore his gaze away and blinked the afterglow from his eyes.
Loki was watching him when he looked back. His gaze piercing, as if looking past Clint’s eyes and into his head.
«It would benefit the mission.» Loki signed, his lips canting up in a smile once again, even though his eyes remained chips of ice.
«I like can turn off.» Clint admitted, then immediately felt sick with the thought that such a stupid thing could be jeopardising the mission.
But Loki actually chuffed out a laugh, his eyes lightening with mirth.
«I can arrange that. Come.» Loki beckoned with his graceful hands and Clint didn’t need to think as he stepped within reach. Closing his eyes as cool fingertips settled against his scalp.
For a moment, it was like fog lifted.
Clint tensed as fear trickled down his spine. His heart, already pumping with adrenalin, seemed to pound against his ribs as if trying to escape. Lungs shuddering with the shock of being dumped back into his own skull.
Lauren. The kids! I can’t… No! I need to warn them. Nat can…
“Hush, little Hawk.” a deep voice murmured close to his ear. Crisp and terrifyingly clear. Ice cold fingers pressed into his skull and…
Calm swept over Clint once again. Rinsing away the strange fear that had overtaken him so suddenly. He blinked his eyes open to see Loki offering him a serene smile.
His eyes dead.
«You sustained repeated head injuries as a child.» Loki informed him, almost boredly, as he stepped away from Clint. Leaving the smell of blood in his nose.
«My dad.» Clint explained, uncertain if he should offer more.
«Yes, of course.» Loki rolled his eyes. «I’ll give them credit for creativity for how I discovered it this time. I suppose you have a son?»
Clint watched as Loki sat down on one of the crates and stretched his long legs out in front of him. His thoughts clearly elsewhere as he picked a cracker out of the packet lying next to him.
«Yes. You know how?» Clint frowned, but could only feel satisfaction as he watched Loki systematically break the cracker into tiny pieces and slowly but steadily go about convincing himself to actually ingest them.
«Patterns emerge. Merely a bothersome test to see if it will make me waver in the need to offer your life on the altar of this glorious purpose.» Loki grimaced as he swallowed. Picking up the bottle of pedialyte to take cautious sips from it. The skin around his eyes tightened infinitesimally as he tried to ignore some kind of discomfort. Clint knew he had to keep talking to distract him from it.
And it felt odd hearing the cracker crunch so clearly.
«For mission, I die. Okay.»
Loki looked away, expression bored as his gaze slid over to the Scepter.
“I know, Hawk.” he looked at Clint, his eyes tired. «That is always how it goes.»
Loki stood, leaving the crackers scattered on the crate. As he rolled his shoulders, a coldness seemed to return to his face. A mask settling. Yet somehow it made Clint’s unease dissolve in his chest. As if something had been set to rights.
“Return in an hour, Hawk.” Loki said with the easy cadence of someone who knew he would be obeyed. “I would like your thoughts on the resistance we are likely to encounter. After you have cleaned up the mess your lapse in health has no doubt created.”
He settled in front of the Scepter once again and shrugged out of his coat as blue wisps eagerly reached out to dance across his pale skin.
“Yessir.” Clint agreed, turning to the door.
“And Clint?” Loki called, back still turned. “Remove that device from your ear. It’s unseemly.”
“Anything for you, sir.” Clint nodded and slipped out of the room.
He paused in the bubble of peace just outside and picked the other hearing aid out of his ear. Staring at it as his ears picked up the sound of Selvig arguing with one of the mercenaries on the other side of the warehouse. Strange, to suddenly be aware of how inadequate something truly was after so long. For a moment, it felt something akin to grief.
There was something else there too, a deep sense that there was something… wrong.
Later, there is work to do.
Clint sighed, feeling lighter as he set an alarm for 45 minutes from now.
Afterall, he couldn’t let Loki down.
This was too important.