Chapter 1
The venom slowly fell, hitting his eyes with excruciating pain. Each drop burned through layers of tissue like acid, leaving his head burning, the light of the room fading quickly around the edges. He could do nothing to evade the poison falling from above him, his body secured to the jagged rocks beneath him with iron ropes, rubbing his skin raw as he shifted, trying to escape.
His head ached, his eyes burned, yet the acid kept falling. It was never ending, all he could hear was the sound of poison hitting skin, and the sound of it eating away countless layers of tissue from his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he had been susceptible to this torture, but he was sure that if he was here much longer, his eyes would be completely gone.
His bloody wrists writhed painfully against the bonds as he screamed, the world long since plunged into darkness. He was sure he would go mad in that room, alone, the venom slowly burning away every inch of him. Everything that he was.
Loki thought he had endured the worst of the torture Thanos had given him. Oh how wrong he was. He could handle his bones being broken, his skin being torn off piece by piece, being drowned within an inch of his life, but this-
This was mixing pain and fear together. He could feel the venom, dripping down slowly, agonizingly slowly, yethe was blind to the attack, never able to tell what was lurking in the shadows. The pain was so intense, there was nowhere in his mind he could flee to that the pain would not follow. He was trapped, questioning what was real and what he had imagined. Had he ever survived the void, or was he suffering in Hel, condemned to eternal damnation, no hope of escape?
He heard the door open, footsteps moving closer, and he stopped screaming. The footsteps walked next to to him and stopped, but whoever had entered said nothing, the room was silent, save for the sound of burning flesh and Loki’s laboured breathing.
Suddenly, the sound of liquid hitting a hard surface filled the space. Loki was unable to see what had happened, but the venom was now absent from his eyes, and it seemed to be falling onto some sort of a surface. He knew there must be an ulterior motive for this salvation, but Loki couldn’t stop himself from letting out a small sigh of relief.
“Tell me, Prince of Lies,” came a booming voice that Loki knew all too well from next to him, “What do you see?”
Loki took in a shuddering breath, “Nothing, I-I see nothing. It’s all black, all of it, I can’t see anything-”
“Silence.”
Loki felt a burning sensation on his stomach, spreading down to his abdomen, it was so intense, it would have brought tears to his eyes, if they were still there. He cried out in alarm, the smell of burning flesh filling his nose.
“You never admit a weakness, it only makes you vulnerable. You gave me an answer I did not wish to hear, I gave you pain you did not wish to endure. Don’t disappoint me, and I won’t have to hurt you.”
Shuddering underneath the feeling of a hand stroking his hair, Loki only nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment, but when he felt a splash of venom hitting his chest, he choked out a “Yes, my Lord.”
“Good. Now, I ask you, how did you get here?”
Loki opened his mouth to answer, but he closed it. How had he gotten he here. It had all seemed so clear before, but as the days had passed, as the venom fell, it burned away his flesh along with his memories. He wanted to say he let go, he fell into this godforsaken realm of his own accord, but had he truly let go? Had Thor not thrown him off? Had Odin not watched, congratulating Thor on ridding Asgard of the monster as Loki fell into the void, shouting cries for help that would never be heard.
As Loki lay there on the stone slab, the dark void of his now ruined eyes closing in on him, he could hear Thor’s voice from that night on the Bifrost, echoing in the chamber.
“Loki, you were never worth anyone’s efforts. If it had been up to me, I would have had the Allfather leave you to die on that frozen wasteland as a babe. At least that way none would have to deal with you wayward tricks, or monstrous ways. You think I love you? You think you deserve my love? You deserve nothing but the death that should have slain you as a child,” Thor’s voice was ice cold, and it struck Loki in the heart, choking him, the words weren’t what Loki thought he remembered, but Loki wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t anymore.
He spoke with a shaking voice, “I-I was thrown, from the Bifrost. By m-my br- by Thor. I fell, through the void, for an eternity, before I was found by you.”
He heard Thanos shift beside him, and he was silent for a moment, before speaking up, “Very good. I’m glad you can finally see the truth.” Loki felt the hand return to his head, gently stroking it in a comforting motion. He let out a sob at the gentle touch, the feeling so foreign, he craved it so deeply, he would do anything just to keep the hand in his hair, gently stroking the loose threads.
“Loki,” Thanos spoke, his voice right next to his ear, his breath warm, “Who do you belong to?”
He inhaled sharply, his mind racing. Who did he belong to? Asgard had cast him out. He had been thrown into the void by his own bro- not his brother. Never his brother. The world he had grown up in didn’t want him, he was never able to claim to be part of Jotunheim, and after what he did with the Bifrost, any connection his heritage gave him to the frozen land, is gone now. His birth realm, a world of beasts and savages did not wish to claim him, had left him for dead, the realm eternal, Asgard, a place he had called home, the place he had grown up had named him disgrace, he belonged to none. None expect,
“You,” he gasped, “I belong to you and none other.”
The hand moved slowly from his hair to his jaw, stroking his cheek gently with his thumb, before Thanos spoke gently, “That is correct young Asgardian, you belong to me,” the hand tightened painfully around Loki’s jaw, forcing his head back into the stone beneath him, “And never forget it.”
Pain shot through his skull, the worst of it behind his (empty) eyes. He gasped, tears of blood trailing down his cheeks, “I would never, My Lord, Thanos, I will never forget it.” How could he? It had been forced into his mind, unwillingly, time after time. Each torture brought upon him was just a reminder, telling him who he belonged to. Reminding him he had no one else.
“You know what happens if you do,” and oh, how he knew. All the times he had tried to defy him, tried to escape the hell he’d been trapped in, the tortures he’d been disclosed to had taught him better. The first time he had tried to speak out against Thanos, had been the first time they had sewn his lips shut. The first time he tried to escape, was the first time they broke each bone in both of his legs, one by one, before giving him a lash for each step he’d taken while trying to escape. (It had totalled to 104 lashes, he hadn’t gotten far in his escape attempt. He couldn’t move for a week after his punishment)
Loki never wanted to obey, but experience had taught him to listen to every word Thanos said, never questioning, never mis stepping, lest he face the consequences.
“And finally,” Thanos spoke, his voice low but commanding, his hand pulling away from Loki’s face, “Will you take the tesseract from Midgard, and return it to me?”
He had been asked to do this many times before, and each time, he had denied. He didn’t need more blood of the innocents on his hands, and Loki knew, that innocents would need to die if he was to get the tesseract.
But he was so tired, his body ached, he longed for an escape for the torture that was his existence. If there was any hope of escape, any way he could run, and never look back, this was it. And maybe, if all hope was lost, he could play along, bring Thanos the tesseract, and submit to whatever there was left of this life. What else did he have left to lose?
“I will, my Lord. I will travel to Midgard, and return the tesseract to you, I swear on my life.”
He heard Thanos let out a deep, echoing laugh, “I knew you would see the truth, all it took was clearing the lies from your sight. Now, to prepare you.”
Before Loki could ask what he meant with that statement, he felt searing hot agony in his abdomen, and he heard his skin burning, and at that, he fell into the relief of unconsciousness.
He had been molded to perfection, no corner of his mind had been left untouched. Loki could still feel wisps of the mind gem’s power, swirling around in his mind, blurring his thoughts, confusing what was right and what was wrong.
His eyes had never healed from the cave. He had been brought to his old cell after he had agreed to find the tesseract, and that was when the true torture had begun.
His mind had been ripped apart with the mind stone, time after time, his thoughts had been altered, his memories changed, his fears, his desires, none were his own. No part of his mind was truly his when Thanos was done for him.
But it was all for his own good. It was to make him stronger. To make sure he didn’t fail on Midgard.
Loki had to take the realm for his own, ensure that they bowed to his will, to make sure the tesseract ended up in his hands with no resistance. No matter how much he disliked the idea of innocents dying, there was no other way to ensure the tesseract was delivered to Thanos without protest.
He had adjusted to life without sight in the months after he had lost his eyes. It was different, not being able to see a threat before it attacked him, but Loki made do. He used his magic as a crutch, used it to sense the auras of everything around him. He used his magic as his eyes.
Loki didn’t need his eyes. Not if Thanos said he didn’t.
He stood in front of the portal, the chitauri army he would eventually lead to conquer Midgard was preparing at that very moment. He was waiting for the order to walk through the portal, walk into Midgard, and put his plan into action.
This was what he had been training for for months. Years and years of torture had all been leading up to this moment. He should feel pride, burning deep in his chest. He should be excited, happy.
Yet all he felt was sorrow, and shame. He felt regret, for the lives that he had not yet taken, and the words he had not yet said. Deep down, he didn’t want to do this, he knew, another him, in another life, another world, would never dream of doing this. He knew Thor would never do this, would never break under the pain, would never agree to do someone else’s dirty work.
But this was what he had been made for. His whole life had molded him for this moment, and he was not going to mess up. He was not going to be weak. He couldn’t afford to be weak.
Loki heard The Other’s voice in his mind, commanding him to start his mission. Taking a deep breath, Loki walked towards the portal, using his magic to sense the portals magical aura to locate it.
He stopped just in front of it, closing his unseeing eyes, (they never did heal properly. They grew back scarred, dull, lifeless, unseeing. Useless.) calming his racing mind. One last thought crossed his mind, before he stepped through the portal, and into the world he meant to conquer.
I’ll never get to see the world I’m meant to bring to ruins.
When the man had first stepped from the portal, holding a glowing scepter in one hand, his body slightly trembling, the first thing everyone in the room noticed were his eyes.
The skin around his eyes were covered in scars that looked as if they had been caused by some sort of chemical, and smaller scars similar to the ones around his eyes could be seen all around his face. But the most off putting part were his actual eyes. They were a murky grey, with a faint hint of what could have once been green, but similar to the skin around them, the eyes were covered in scars that looked as if they were from something that had burned them. Clint didn’t even know if that was possible.
He knew for sure that whoever this man was, he couldn’t see at all.
“Sir, please put down the spear.”
The man’s head turned immediately to face Fury, the hand gripping the spear tightening, the skin on his knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding onto the spear. Clint could tell the situation was already going downhill, and whoever this guy was didn’t look like he was going to be backing down.
Suddenly, the man aims the spear in front of him, and fires some sort of energy blast towards where Fury was. Most people moved quickly out of the blast range, some being hit by the edge of the blast, thrown into various objects.
Whoever he is, he stays where he was, closing his eyes, as if he were listening to everyone around him. Clint could see the barest flicker of green around his hands. He pushed himself to his feet, watching for what he was going to do next, pulling his bow out, nocking an arrow and drawing it back, aiming for his chest.
The ring of gunfire echoed throughout the room, several of the agents had pulled their guns out and had all fired at the man, but their bullets just went straight through him, the image of the man flickering, then disappearing altogether. All Clint could think, while staring at the spot the man had previously been standing in just moments ago, was what the actual fuck?
Before he could think anything else, the man suddenly appeared in front of him, the scepter held in front of him, the tip placed directly over Clint’s heart. Fear clawed at Clint’s throat, as he stared into the man’s damaged eyes. The man moved his eyes to meet Clint’s and he jerked back, shocked at how he had known. He was blind for god's sake!
The man grabbed Clint’s hand, pulling him closer until their faces were inches apart, the point of the scepter digging into his chest, the stranger’s breath uneven and struggling on each inhale. He smiled, looking at Clint with his unseeing eyes, “You have heart.”
Suddenly, the world exploded into blue light, his head throbbed, and his bones ached. It felt as if someone had poured molten lava throughout all his veins, burning him from the inside out. His thoughts were blurring, the world around him becoming unclear, until-
He blinked, looking at the world around him in a new light. He had a mission, he had a master, he was here to follow orders, SHIELD would only try to stop him. All that mattered was Loki.
Loki his mind thought blearily, behind the thoughts that had been shoved into his head, forced into his mind against his will, so that’s the bastards name.
Clint watched as the room exploded into flames, he watched as the agents enemies were shot down, one by one. He stood there in silence, waiting for orders. He was made to serve, and serve he would.
Clint knew people were talking around him, but no one was talking to him, he wasn’t needed. The blue overtook his mind, his thoughts, he couldn’t focus on anything around him, his vision starting to blur. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he was going to pass out.
“Sir,” he hears himself speak up, not fully in control of his mouth, “Director Fury is stalling. This place is about to blow. Drop a few feet of rock on us,” he pauses, pondering his words, “He means to bury us.”
He wasn’t sure how he knew all this, considering the pulsing in his head was distracting him from almost everything around him, but the words felt right as they came from his mouth, and he knew it was something Fury would do.
The fog had lifted from his thoughts, and he heard Selvig confirm his accusation, Fury looked, well, furious. Loki turned to him, his eyes looking just to the left of his head.
“Well then,” he spoke, his voice rough, but the message clear enough. Without hesitation, Clint brought his gun up, aimed it at the Director, and shot. Somewhere in his head, his mind was screaming at him, wake up! This isn’t right! But all he could feel was the grimm satisfaction of a job well done.
Clint grabbed the tesseract as he and Selvig followed Loki, walking out of the room as debris fell around them. Loki stumbled, tripping on bits of rubble scattered on the floor, and it looked as if he was going to fall, but each time he regained his balance, and he kept walking, leaving the burning facility behind them.
They walked into the parking garage, Loki using the scepter for support as he walked. Clint gently grabbed his arm, his vision clouded with blue, when suddenly-
All he could feel was searing pain as his mouth filled with blood, dripping down his throat, filling his lungs as he tried to scream, the only noise he could make was a strangled whine. Blood spilled over his lips, he looked down at his bloody hand, clutching his own tongue, listened to his own voice trying to scream through all the blood, drowning in it.
He was slammed back into his own head as Loki tried to pull away, but Clint held on firmly, leading him to a truck near the end of the garage, with only a slight stumble to his steps. Selvig following close behind them.
The leather beneath his fingers was thick, but not thick enough to cover how thin his arm was. He could feel the bone through the leather, and what little muscle there was. Clint looked down at the limb with concern, wondering when he had last eaten.
Clint watched as Maria Hill walked towards them, hand hovering over the gun on her hip, eyes weary, as Selvig and Clint helped Loki climb into the back of the truck.
“We need these vehicles.”
Maria raised an eyebrow, looking at Loki, “Who’s that?”
Clint shrugged, “He didn’t tell me,” the lie easily sliding off of his tongue. He turned and walked to the drivers seat of the truck, Selvig sitting in the passenger's side, and turned the car on, starting to drive away.
Maria turned to leave, but she stopped, pulling out her radio. She turned, quickly pulling the gun from it’s hollister, and shot at the car, aiming for it’s tires. Clint swore loudly, swerving the car as he sped up, trying to leave the garage as fast as he could.
A bullet bounced off the drivers side mirror as he drove out of the complex, once they were out onto the open road, Clint sped up, driving towards one of his safe houses, to give their ‘team’ time to catch their breaths.
He hears a thud from the back of the truck, and both he and Selvig whip their heads around, looking at Loki as he tries to push himself into a sitting position from where he fell.
“Boss,” Clint said, concern evident in his voice, “Are you ok? Should I pull over?”
“No,” Loki’s voice came from the back, distant and cold. He sounded as if he were in pain, taking short quick breaths and clutching his head with both hands, “Keep driving, no matter what. We can’t stop for anything.”
Clint wanted to protest, he wanted to stop the care and make sure his boss was ok, he wanted to help him, but that would be disobeying orders. That wasn’t allowed. Loki never told him not to disobey him, but he knew, words, echoing in the back of his mind, he would pay the price for disobeying.
There was nothing left to do but drive, so that’s what Clint did. He kept his eyes on the road, ignoring the sounds of retching coming from behind him. The sounds of the car almost hid it, but Clint’s hearing aids picked every little sound up.
Right now, he wished they didn’t.
Keeping his eyes glued to the windshield, he sped up, the need to get Loki somewhere safe only grew with each mile that passed.
Both Clint and Selvig hovered behind Loki as he stumbled through the door of the safehouse, wavering on his own two feet. They both voiced their concerns towards his health, but were only met with disregard and reassurance that he would be fine. He looked as far from fine as someone could be and still be alive.
Clint wasn’t even sure he was alive at this point.
He rushed forward as Loki’s foot caught the corner of a chair, sending the god tumbling to the ground, and it didn’t look like he was getting up any time soon.
“Sir, please, you need to rest. We won’t be able to do much of anything with you in this state.”
Loki’s clouded eyes searched the room, trying to find Clint’s face with no success, and settled on a spot just above his right shoulder. He opened his mouth, presumably to protest, then shut it, clutching his head in his hands.
“I can’t, I have to keep going. No matter what happens to me, I can’t- I can’t afford to stop, to rest- this is my last chance, I can’t fail now-”
His voice grew with panic the more he spoke, his eyes growing wide, his body tensing. His gaze shifted to the right slightly, his breathing started to quicken, his hands clenching at his sides. Clint rushed forward, grabbing Loki’s arm to ground him, when suddenly-
There was screaming, so loud, so intense, it filled every corner of his mind. All of his thoughts, all of his memories, were screams, of pain, of terror, of desperation. At first he thought they were coming from someone else, but then he felt the pain in his throat, the quick intake of breath, and it continued. It never stopped. The screams consumed him, until he gave in.
Clint lurched forward, gasping for air. He could still hear distant screams in the back of his mind, echoing, haunting his thoughts, never giving him a moment of peace-
He inhaled sharply, looking to where Loki sat in front of him, curling into himself, cluting his head with the hand that wasn’t held in Clint’s own hands. He took a deep breath, clearing his mind as best he could, and sat gently in front of Loki, grasping his shoulders in his hands.
The screams grew louder in his mind, tearing at his thoughts, trying to pull him back under, into their trance, but Clint held strong, and looked at Loki even if he wasn’t able to see it, because it helped Clint stay in the present, instead of falling into memories of the past that weren’t his own.
“Loki, you need to listen to me,” he spoke in a firm voice. He spoke quietly so he didn’t startle the god or give him cause to attack, “Listen to my voice, you’re not going to fail. You’re safe here, ok? Can you try and slow your breathing for me?”
“I can’t,” Loki started, the words falling out, uncontrolled and unstoppable in his panicked state of mind, the words kept spilling out, “I can’t breathe, I can’t talk, I can’t see,” he looked around the room with wide eyes, searching frantically for somethic, anything, but of course, all he would find is darkness. His voice rose in panic, “I can’t see.”
Loki’s hands gripped his hair tightly, fingers digging into his scalp hard enough to draw blood, and Clint grabbed them gently, guiding them down into his lap.
“Loki, listen to my voice, you’re fine, you’re safe here. I made sure of it. Just take some deep breaths for me, alright? You’re alright,” Clint spoke softly, trying his best to soothe the man, “You’re safe with me.”
Loki shook his head, gripping his knees, “Never safe, nowhere is safe, they’ll find me wherever I go, they’ll make me- make me long for something sweet as pain-”
He cut off abruptly lurching to the side and coughing up a mixture of bile and blood. His body shook with each cough, the force throwing him forwards onto his hands.
Clint rushed forwards, placing a hand on Loki’s shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, trying to calm the shaking god.
“It’s alright boss, deep breaths, try and calm down.”
Loki gave a final cough, before going limp, Clint barely catching him before he hit the floor.
Carrying to man in his arms, he could feel bones in places he really shouldn’t be able to, and thoughts of how to get Loki to eat once he awoke started forming in his mind.
He placed the god in the bed upstairs, listening to Selvig work downstairs. Pulling the blanket up to his shoulders, Clint decided there was nothing else he could do to help in the situation.
He grabbed a chair from the desk, pulling it up next to the bed and sat down heavily, letting out a deep sigh as he sat down. He rubbed his hand over his face trying to keep himself awake, and when he looked down at the hand, it was stained red with blood.
Clint blinked, looking at his hand again it was clean. He shook his head, and looked back at the unconscious god on the bed.
He couldn’t afford to fail.