People are getting involved now. Only so many Type A's can fit in a room. Enjoy xo

***

He couldn't go back to his bed that night. He couldn't walk past the pool of blood and the shattered door frame and lay down in the bed that Loki had been in just a short hour ago. He couldn't take the chance that it would happen again- which was ludicrous obviously, but he couldn't. So he slept on the couch in the living room under the worn blanket Natasha had gotten him in Budapest.

Well, 'slept' was a generous word for the few hours he spent tossing and turning on the not quite soft cushions as visions of Loki's bloodied mouth transitioned into the ruthless smile he'd turned on Clint as he tapped the tip of the spear against his chest. His dreams turned to nightmares, ones he hadn't had in years, ones he thought he'd gotten rid of for good along with the raven-haired demon god. 

Clint was ripped from painful restlessness by F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s announcement that there were two people ascending the elevator to come and fix Clint's apartment. The archer usually tried to be civil even though F.R.I.D.A.Y. was a machine and had no feelings, but he just couldn't after the night he'd had. He just grunted in acknowledgment and pushed himself off the couch. He headed straight for his bathroom where he gargled some mouth wash and then used it to swallow down three pain relievers. 

At the wooshing sound of his elevator door opening, he peeked his head out of the bathroom door and hollered through his bedroom, "End of the hall."

A stocky man with a tell-tale beer belly and a tall, lithe woman with fire-red hair stepped carefully over the blood stain and into Clint's bedroom. Clint, hair still a mess from tossing and eyes blurred from lack of real sleep, stripped off his old shirt despite the company and pulled a new one from his drawers. 

"I'm here to clean the blood and she's going to see what she can do about your door. Sound good?"

Clint didn't even turn around, aware he was just being rude but didn't have it in him to care. "Yeah, thanks." He pulled his sweats off and yanked a pair of jeans out from the next drawer down. Behind him, the pair sounded like they were getting to work, and Clint couldn't ignore it forever. 

He turned towards his bed and looked at the mess of it. His sheet and comforter were thrown nearly off the bed, hanging on by one thick, bundled corner. One pillow was on the floor and the other was ripped. He didn't even know when that had happened. Huffing, he went and sat down on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumping tiredly. He looked on as the duo scrubbed and measured. 

Loki had been right there. Clint closed his eyes against of vision of Loki on the bed behind him, reaching out. Darling.

He shuddered and stood up from the bed. "I'm heading out. Just let yourselves out when you're done," he told the workers. They murmured understanding as Clint pushed into shoes and grabbed his phone. He was just approaching the elevator when it opened.

Steve's face was stoic as usual but broke into a tiny smile when he saw Clint was up and dressed. "Oh good. They sent me up because we all thought you'd be terrible to deal with after last night." Clint raised a brow, doubtful. "Well, all of us except Natasha. She guessed you be awake and grumpy."

Clint was tired of waiting through pleasantries. He just wanted to get outside in the fresh air. "What do you need, Cap?" he demanded, confirming Natasha's bet.

"Meeting and debrief downstairs," Steve offered, tone back to business.

No. Not a meeting. The last thing Clint needed was to be stuck in a room with a bunch of suits. "Natasha already debriefed me." It wasn't an excuse that would work, but he tried it anyway.

"It's not your debrief," Steve informed him and waved Clint on the elevator. Clint tapped down a petulant groan, but barely, and boarded. "It's Thor's."

He should've known. Where Loki went, there too was the god of thunder. "That was fast."

"We called him."

Of course. Loki wasn't a foe they let rot in a cell; they wanted to know what was going on and they wanted to know now. "So why do you need me?" The elevator was slowing down, approaching the desired floor. 

As the doors opened, Steve answered, "He won't talk to anyone but you."

"Thor?" 

Steve stepped off the lift but turned back to Clint. "Loki." Then, he walked off towards the long row of offices, expecting correctly that Clint would follow. Clint only followed out of habit. His feet were moving but his brain was still back on the elevator.

Loki would only talk to him. Figured. The god of torture and chaos and ruin wasn't done with him yet. 

"What if I don't want to talk to him?" Clint asked, much like an unruly child, as they approached a glass door that held the Avengers on the other side. 

Steve paused, palm against the edge of the door. "This isn't about you," he reminded the archer and led him into the room. The conversation was flowing but came to a screeching halt when they saw Clint. 

Clint walked up to the table but didn't take Cap's lead and sit. He stood behind a chair and awkwardly folded his arms. The silence thawed when Thor walked from the head of the table to pull him into an unnecessarily constricting hug. 

"Barton, my friend. How are you?"

It was so hard to stay bitchy when Thor was so warm and welcoming. Clint folded his arms around Thor and said, "Tired, but what else is new?"

Thor pulled back, barked a laugh and slapped him on the shoulder. Clint held back his wince. "We have much to discuss." 

"Yeah, I heard."

The god nodded, like that was something to really think about before clapping his hands together and saying, "When may I deliver my brother back to our home?"

Tony was up and shouting before Thor even finished the sentence. "He's not going anywhere. We let you take him last time and he somehow escaped not once but twice."

Steve was standing then, too. "Tony, let's take a breath."

Then Natasha was standing, smoother and not as angry as Tony had. "He's escaped from us before, too."

Tony waved an arm towards the blond immortal. "From what I remember, Thor had a hand in that, too."

"We're not equipped to hold someone like Loki here," Bruce offered, standing but backing up from the table as he spoke.

"You speak truth, Dr. Banner. I can ensure the security of Loki's imprisonment this time."

"Oh yeah? Did Odin update his DDT?" Tony snarked. Thor didn't look confused, but more like he didn't care to understand. 

Clint looked over at Steve with a raised brow. Why am I here again? he seemed to say. Steve sighed and put a hand up, palm out. "Guys!" The noise in the room broke, filtering to silence after a few seconds. Steve looked to Natasha. "Why don't you tell everyone what you ascertained from Clint's debrief."

Natasha stayed standing while everyone else took a seat. Clint had an inclination to feel slighted that he wasn't speaking for himself on the matter, but as soon as Natasha started talking, he was glad he didn't have to. "We have reason to believe that the person currently being detained might not be the Loki we know."

"Speak plainly, Widow. Do you have my brother or not?"

The redhead locked eyes with Clint before looking to Thor and answering. "We have a Loki in custody."

"A Loki?" Tony urged. "What does that mean, a Loki?"

"Clint's testimony along with preliminary testing concluded that the person in that cell may not be the Loki from our Earth." Natasha darted a warning look at Tony when he went to interrupt. "We believe he may be a Loki from a different..."

"Universe," Clint finished for her. "He's not from our universe." Clint's mind had done some wandering during the fits of insomnia between forceful dreams throughout the night. It was the only thing that made sense. 

"A Loki form a parallel universe?" Bruce questioned. "How would he have gotten here? We haven't detected any sort of disturbance."

"We don't know," Steve followed up. "Which is why we need Clint to go in and talk to him."

"He's refusing even my company," Thor added. "I cannot take him home if he is not truly the brother I know and he says he will only see his hawk."

Clint's mouth instinctually snarled at that, but he swallowed it down and said, "I don't know what you think I'll get out of him. He hates me as much as I hate him."

"Our Loki, yeah, but what if he's not our Loki," Natasha clarified. "You said that Loki didn't want to fight you last night." The archer could only nod, relieved she hadn't mentioned the nickname Loki had used for him or any of the other humiliating details he'd told her the night before. 

"Is it possible that this Loki doesn't have the same history with you in his timeline?" Natasha sat down then but leaned forward in her chair to speak seriously. "He's either a threat or he's innocent. Either way, we can't just leave him in a holding cell forever."

Clint knew she was right, but he didn't want to admit it. "Send in someone that will make him talk."

The other assassin shrugged and sat back, easy as you please. "We could do that, but if he is an innocent version of Loki, then we torture him without cause. Are you willing to torture an innocent man?"

She knew he wasn't; she was playing on his humanity- the largest difference between them- in front of a room full of heroes. "No," he grit out. 

"Good, then we're agreed. We send Clint in for information but keep other tactics on the table in case we don't like what we hear," Steve declared. With that, the meeting was adjourned and Clint was left with a headache and a pit in his stomach.

He sat there, staring at the glass table, while everyone else filed out. Natasha stopped to place a gentle hand on his shoulder but didn't say anything and followed the others. Clint didn't want to go see Loki. He didn't want Loki in his bedroom, much less in his head. 

But if that wasn't Loki- their Loki- then he wasn't guilty of the same crimes as their Loki. Maybe he was completely different. Maybe he and Clint were even friends where that Loki was from. He'd regarded Clint kindly enough the night before. How kindly Clint didn't dwell on; he could only handle one crisis at a time.

He huffed and pushed away from the table, standing up from his chair and staring down the large glass wall that looked out on the busy New York streets. From this high up, he could jump and never even-

He hadn't thought like that since...

He couldn't let himself go back to that place. He couldn't let Loki take him back to that place. He had to face Loki head on and take charge of the situation. He had to be brave.

Clint slapped a hand on the table, resolute, and stomped out of the conference room to the elevator. "Med bay, F.R.I.D.A.Y.," he told her, though he was sure she knew.

"Right away, Mr. Barton."

"What is it going to take for you to call me Clint?" he asked to the ceiling of the elevator as he began to descend. 

There was a pause, like F.R.I.D.A.Y. was actually thinking, and then she said, "Convincing Mr. Stark to rewrite my programming...and a nice cache clearing. I love those."

Clint honestly couldn't tell if she was joking; she'd been so deadpan. But Clint was nothing, if not sarcastic, so he agreed, "I'll get on it as soon as my world stops falling out from under me."

"Speaking of..." The elevator came to a soft halt and the doors dinged open on a sterile white hallway. 

"Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y."

"My pleasure. Mr-"

"Don't start," he cut her off and walked out of the lift. He wasn't sure which room Loki was in, but since it was Loki he was sure he'd figure it out sooner rather than later. Sure enough, a loud bang came from a room at the end of the hall and Clint heard Loki's imperial voice shouting, "I must go home, you fools!"

Clint rolled his eyes. Their Loki or not, his temper hadn't seemed to change. He walked down the empty hall to the door with the noise behind it. The curtains were pulled across the large observation window so he couldn't see what was going on. He scanned his badge at the door and it clicked open. With one last deep breath to pull himself together, he stepped inside to face the man that took him apart.

***

Clint and Loki are finally going to talk next chapter. Let's see what the god of mischief has to say.

Mwah! Xoxo, Jess