Ice cream was fun.
The other Avengers thought him foolish and childlike for loving it so, but Thor just could not help himself.
Hawkeye found it just the cutest thing ever, which is why he found himself towing buckets filled with mint choc-chip ice cream to every single damn meeting they ever had.
That was how he overheard the conversation that both panicked him, broke his heart and infused him with homicidal rage in a series of seconds. He just loved the big guy too much- and yes, Nat, in a fucking gay way okay?, and wanted someone to be happy on the damn team. This was one little thing he could do to ensure the happiness of one of his closest and most trusted friends; hauling a fucking wheelbarrow of the stuff into the conference room freezers.
"Thor."
"...Loki?"
Just one confused word from Thor had the master assassin frozen where he stood. The breath just left all of him in one big rush, he couldn't move his feet and his hands began to tremble. Clint wasn't afraid, he couldn't afford to feel that emotion in his line of work, but he was probably the closest he'd ever been. Thor, the Asgardian he was in love with, sounded so broken and torn asunder by just one word from the voice that still echoed in the archer's dreams.
The voice that had made him kill, made him hurt his friends, taken everything away from him in a cold rush of unfeeling.
And he was right inside the door. Right inside.
Right there. With Thor.
The silence stretched out uncomfortably, and Hawkeye shifted slightly. Ready to either run towards the battle, or... No. He couldn't run away. He had to face him.
*
The door swung open, but Loki paid it no heed.
"Oh Thor, what have I done?" Then, in front of the human he had once possessed, the proud and arrogant Loki crumbled to the floor, beginning to sob uncontrollably.
Reacting purely out of instinct, Thor rushed forward to curl his body around his brother. "LEAVE!" He commanded Hawkeye, turning Loki away from the stunned archer.
"Right, yeah, leaving, going, okay-" The door closed in a rush.
"Loki..." Thor cradled Loki's head in his lap. "Oh brother, brother what have you done now? What makes you weep so?"
"It is not what I have done!" Loki spluttered out through the tears.
Thor grew impatient, more out of panic than anything else. His brother was weeping openly in front of him, something that hadn't occurred since they were children. "Explain yourself."
The weeping stopped abruptly, and Loki's face cleared of any pain. "It is what I intend to do." He spoke softly.
*
The hoarse yell of pain and outrage- followed by the crashing of glass that could only come from a God hitting a window- was what brought Clint barreling back down the hall like a maniac. "Oh Jesus, NATASHA!" He bellowed as he burst through the conference room doors to find the Norseman lying in a pool of his own blood. "TASHA, HE'S BLEEDING!" Clint screamed again, dropping beside the giant and flapping his hands uselessly.
Thanks to fortunate timings and quick running, Simmons was first on the scene. What followed, no one can remember exactly, except that it involved an awful lot of screaming, yelling, panicking and Phil throwing everyone out periodically.
Thor was saved from immediate death thanks to Simmons working for a solid six hours repairing the damage Loki had done to his insides, and Steve literally falling over the poisoned blade that had been discarded in Loki's haste to escape.
Hawkeye was not best pleased, pacing outside the door where Thor was clinging onto consciousness while Fitzsimmons worked out an antidote for fucking Asgardian poison.
"That motherfucking bastard!"
"Clint."
"I fucking knew something was wrong!"
"Clint."
"Fucksake! I hate that-"
"CLINT!" Darcy yelled, finally losing her shit. " We get it. Now," she gestured to the full conference table, "sit."
Hawkeye sank into the chair, glaring at the beautifully tall woman who'd dared to attempt to sit in Thor's seat. She showed no emotion, but simply turned her gaze to him. "I understand you're the one that allowed Loki into this..."she looked around with a distinct lack of interest, "abode."
Before Clint could say anything, the Captain leant forward, placing a placating hand on his shoulder.
"We need to catch this damn bastard, Clint, and that means we need to work with Sif, instead of against." Steve looked at Clint pleadingly, to which he responded with a sullen nod and a quiet grunt.
*
It took them a month.
A month of Hawkeye swearing at every inanimate object he walked past, and a few animate ones as well. A month of daily meetings, a month of failed mission briefs and a month without Thor turning up and eating his goddamn ice cream with that stupid grin on his face.
But, they'd done it. They'd captured him hiding in some hovel in Belgium, dragging an injured Thor into battle to take the bastard back to Asgard.
Now, Hawkeye didn't even have a target to rage at. He couldn't even work towards anything, he was just angry as fucking hell. That depressing thought lead him to grabbing a bottle or two or vodka out of the fridge. He'd let his friend and ally, who trusted him, be manipulated.
He'd stood aside as the man that took everything in his mind and dumped it upside down attempted to do the same to his friend. Feelings or no, Clint felt like his chest had been torn open, because he'd failed to do the one thing he always swore to do.
Prevent his friends from becoming like him.