Chapter 2
After they had managed to escape the fallen SHIELD compound; Loki had ordered him to find them a secure place to hold up. It was easy enough; Clint had several bolt holes spotted around the country, no matter what people said; he wasn’t paranoid, he was prepared. And in this case, his preparedness was helpful. Unfortunately, now SHIELD was never going to find them; the small part of his mind that wasn’t controlled by Loki thought.
After the God had spelt out what the general plan of action was, Clint knew they were going to have to find more personnel. Apparently Loki worked that out too and ordered the sniper to find them. It was also easy enough; in the five hours since Loki had come through the portal, Clint had managed to bring in several mercenary and militia groups that were not fond of SHIELD. The god had quickly thrown any discussion of payment out the window by using his glowing sceptre on the men and sent them to work and putting Clint in charge. Talking with Selvig enabled him to sort out who was fit for what tasks and within an hour everyone was working efficiently much to Loki’s delight.
Twelve hours in and Clint’s bladder was beginning to make its self known. He ignored it in favour of sourcing the parts Selvig needed for the Tesseract project; he could hold it. Unfortunately as discovered several hours later; some of the others couldn’t. It made working in the command area less favourable but it wasn’t like they had a choice in the matter. The small part in the back of his mind that was free felt sympathetic embarrassment on behalf of those who soiled themselves; it was also glad he had been trained to hold it in.
Loki didn’t seem overly impressed with the outcome either and ordered them to relieve themselves and clean up; Clint was thankful for the reprieve; the pressure on his bladder was beginning to become unbearable. He actually let out a deep relieved sigh when it was his turn to use the toilet.
***
Smothering the latest yawn behind his hand, Clint watched over the assembled group as they worked. They had been going at it for almost forty-eight hours now and looked like they were beginning to lag. Those who hadn’t used the bathroom facilities last night were evidently paying for it now and even those who had were looking uncomfortable; Clint was also unfortunately one of the latter. Surprisingly the only evidence of the mess was the people’s clothes; there was nothing coating the floor; the poor bastard Loki had ordered to clean up was still going hard at it. The years of grime and recent evidence of occupation was now cleared; Clint was pretty sure the place had never been cleaner.
He caught Loki entering the room out of the corner of his eye and quickly finished updating the progress report. He almost cried in relief when Loki ordered them all to use the bathroom again; he was sure he wasn’t the only one.
He made his way across the room on his return only paused once when he felt a slight wave of dizziness flow over him from the lack of food and sleep; any more of this and he was positive he wasn’t going to be much use. The last time he had eaten was nearly six hours before Loki had come through the portal; the last time he slept was even further back than that.
As he approached he noted Loki sending the unfortunate soul who had spent the night spring cleaning back to his previous duties; he silently held out the progress report for the God to look over, internally smirking when he noted the slight twitch of surprise. Still got it, Barton, the back of his mind thought.
“Hold still.” Loki snapped.
“Sorry, Sir.” Clint apologised as he adjusted his grip on the tablet; even with two hands, much to his chagrin he couldn’t completely stop it from shaking minutely.
“Are you cold, Agent Barton?”
Clint shook his head in answer. “No, Sir.” He said obediently. He wasn’t really cold, the temperature wasn’t warm by any means but they were underground; his jacket was sufficient to keep him from freezing.
“Then why are you shaking?” Loki asked curiously.
“Side effects, Sir.” Clint answered.
“Explain.” Loki demanded firmly.
“I haven’t eaten or slept for almost fifty-four hours, Sir. Shaking is one of the side effects...” Clint looked up at Loki and then shrugged helplessly. “My productivity will only decrease the longer I go on without sustenance or sleep, Sir.” He hoped Loki got the hint; his stomach wasn’t the only one that was growling and he certainly wasn’t the only one who was yawning and being forced to drink energy drinks in effort to stay awake; drinks that also tended to have the unlucky side effect of making the drinker need too pee more often.
Loki stared at him coolly for several seconds before turning away and looking over the rest of his mind controlled servants. Apparently he recognised that they needed to eat and recharge because he turned back to Clint. “Organise some form of schedule to allow everyone a chance to eat and sleep.” He ordered curtly before turning and storming off to do God only knew what. Clint nodded and brought the tablet up sorting out a sort of schedule that would enable everyone a chance to sleep and eat. Unfortunately, Loki hadn’t mentioned bathroom breaks; that was gonna come back to bite him in the ass, Clint thought with a small amused smirk. That faded pretty quickly when he realised that he wouldn’t be able to go to the bathroom either. Great.
***
“Barton!”
Clint jerked his head up as his name was screamed in anger and he quickly sped over to Loki’s side. “You hollered, Sir?” he asked. The small part of his mind that was free found great joy in the fact that Loki twitched at the small dig; the rest of him stiffened at the look the God sent him in return.
“I thought I told you to organise a schedule to prevent this type of thing!” Loki snapped, pointing to Selvig who had once again soiled himself but continued working.
Clint looked over toward Selvig and felt a momentary flash of guilt. “You only said sleeping and eating, Sir.” He replied cautiously.
The archer watched as Loki closed his eyes and groaned aloud. “Add relieving ones self to the schedule.” He growled out.
Clint nodded quickly and brought up the tablet. Thank God, for small mercies; he thought to himself as he began inserting the request into the schedule.
“No, wait.” Clint paused and looked back up to Loki. “Add using the bathroom facilities.” The God stated.
“Yes, Sir.” Barton answered. He glanced at Professor Selvig who was still working in his dirty clothing. “Do you want me to send those who soiled themselves to the facilities immediately, Sir?” he asked. Part of the archer was sympathetic to the poor bastard’s situation, but part of him, Clint was sure, was just trying to piss off the self proclaimed God when he asked the obvious question. Either way, the fact that he had managed to ask the question at all meant that Loki’s hold on him had loosened just a little.
Loki looked at him narrowly out of the corner of his eye before he answered. “Yes. Plan out everything so that productivity will not be affected adversely and put it into action.” He ordered before walking away.
Clint pursed his lips as he looked at the tablet in his hands. Plan out everything so productivity isn’t affected adversely. That was kind of a vague order. The free part of his mind wondered what he could get away with sticking into the schedule to slow Loki down and increase the chances of SHIELD catching up to them. The fact that Loki pretty much had to tell them when to eat, sleep and use the bathroom was of course humiliating, but it also slowed down their progress. It actually reminded him of the stupid computer game Natasha had given to him when he was stuck in traction two years ago where he had, in his everlasting boredom, created little versions of SHIELD agents and controlled their every move. He had taken great delight in watching the mini-Quartermaine piss himself and fall asleep in his own mess. Natasha had deleted the game and taken him down repeatedly in the gym after she found the mini-Black Widow and mini-Hill woohooing. Good times; he thought with a grin.
The grin turned into a thoughtful look as he pondered the idea. Loki was essentially controlling them like Sims; they had needs that had to be catered for; eating, sleeping, general hygiene and toilet breaks. What were the others? Social interaction and fun? His Sims had always packed a sad and refused to do anything when those needs had gotten too low…and Loki did mention planning out everything so that the productivity wasn’t adversely affected…
***
“What is going on here?”
Clint looked up from where he was leaning against the wall chatting to one of the mercs he had obtained. He was getting as much detail on the man’s connections as he could. It helped to know someone’s skills and abilities; finding out the mercenary organization details so that he could inform SHIELD afterward was a side benefit.
“We’re relaxing, you should chill too.” One of the scientists was informing Loki.
“What?!” The God shrieked. Clearly he wasn’t impressed with the updated schedule.
“I-I…uhh…” the scientist stuttered backing away from the enraged God.
“Productivity levels were dropping drastically, Sir.” Barton announced as he moved forward to intercept the God’s anger. “A few hours of R&R should put it back up to previous levels.”
“Fun?” Loki spat. “You planned a few hours of fun into the schedule?”
“Yes, Sir.” Barton answered promptly managing to keep the amused smirk of his face by pure luck alone. He tapped his index against the edge of the tablet as he continued. “You said to plan out everything that would adversely affect the productivity and put into action things that would prevent it, Sir.”
Evidently it wasn’t quite the answer Loki was looking for as he threw his hands into the air and let out a scream of rage. Clint fought the urge not to cower away from the dark look the mad God sent his way; he was pretty sure he was going to die any second now. “Get back to work.” Was the hissed order as Loki stormed out of the room. Clint shrugged his shoulders and returned to sourcing the materials needed for the project. He glanced at the scientist who was watching the God’s retreating form nervously. “You heard the boss, back to work.” He said. The scientist jumped, giving Clint an anxious look before hurrying back to doing whatever it was earlier he was doing.
***
Having told Loki that he needed an eyeball and the iridium, Loki had ordered for him to set up a plan of attack to retrieve the two objects. It was a simple and yet effective plan. Loki had read it over and agreed, making a couple of changes at the end which resulted in the God leaving Selvig in charge of finishing the Tesseract project and Clint leading an attack on the Helicarrier.
Clint had mixed emotions as he went about putting the plan into action. Part of him was smug that it was going off without a hitch; and part of him was absolutely mortified that it was going off without a hitch and people; people he knew and people he didn’t but were nonetheless innocent, were dying. Clint’s body continued on even though his mind was screaming for him to stop as he led the attack on the Helicarrier to free Loki and separate the team Fury had gathered to fight him. He decided he owed Natasha the biggest and most expensive damned bottle of Russian Vodka when she knocked Loki’s control out of his head and everything faded to black.
Waking up to the ability to control his own limbs was a relief; waking up strapped down to a bed wasn’t quite what he wanted but he understood their paranoia. The images of what he had done under Loki’s control flowed through his mind and the wave of guilt that followed was expected but sucked nonetheless. Joining Captain America and the rest of the Avengers Initiative helped to somewhat dull the sharp edge of guilt but he knew it was going to never completely fade away.
Debriefing after defeating Loki and the Chitauri army was painful. Normally Coulson would have been the one to do it, but Loki had killed him during the attack on the Helicarrier; and wasn’t that just a kick in the nuts; so Sitwell was doing it. He told the agent everything on autopilot; from the time Loki had come through the portal and taken control of him to the end of the fight. By the time his was finished his head was nodding forward and he was sure he was slurring in exhaustion.
“You’re saying that the Sceptre ensured you literally did the task Loki ordered you to, by the letter?” Sitwell asked.
“Yeah.” Clint answered. “Unfortunate side effect was that his servants didn’t even stop for basic needs. It was kind of messy that first few days.” Sitwell’s face wrinkled when he realised Clint’s meaning and he took note of it in his report. Clint chuffed in vague amusement. “He told some poor bastard merc to clean the room; guy didn’t stop cleaning for nearly twenty four hours until Loki told him to stop. Pretty sure the tunnel had never been cleaner.”
“I see.” Sitwell said, a slight smirk of amusement gracing his face. “You can go now, Agent Barton. Report to your quarters, you’re confined there until Director Fury has gone over your report. Please ensure you are available for any further questions.”
Clint nodded absently and pushed to his feet. He was almost out the door when a thought occurred and he turned back to Sitwell. “Uhh, you might want to go to Germany and check to see if those mercs are still guarding the area we used as a landing pad for the jet. Loki told them to guard it…they uhh…didn’t join us on the flight back, they’re probably still there guarding it.”
Sitwell’s face twisted in a mixture of disbelief and amusement, before he shook his head and took note of it on his pad of paper. “I’ll look into it, thank you, Agent Barton.”
Clint nodded and then headed out. He had a date with his bunk and he planned to avoid everyone he possibly could on the way there.