Time to go

Real is overated

Clint woke with a start when the door to his cell opened. Knowing better than to open his eyes and show the intruder he was awake, Clint played possum and stayed still. Yet as he stayed still his mind was racing and his thoughts were ricocheting off the sides of his skull.

What, more accurately, who is in my cell?

Why are they here?

No one should be in here, that's the point of solitary condiment, to limit human contact.

Who?

Director Fury?

Maybe the guard finally realized who I am and decided I need to be taught a lesson. There is no way I could defend myself if that happened.

Clint never thought his heart could beat any faster, but nothing beat how it almost tore through his chest cavity when the stranger chuckled.

That laugh, he knew it. That deep, sugar coated voice had haunted him for months and made Clint suppress a scream. Clint's fear only seemed to delight the stranger.

"Oh Clint," The intruder sighed. "Haven't we been through enough for me to tell when you are faking your sleep?" The stranger leaned down and put his lips right next to Clint's ear. It took every inch of Clint's willpower not to move. " But I must say your fear is absolutely delectable, this is how you should be, scared, broken and kneeling."

Cold fingers traced down Clint's face and settled right on his heart.

"I can feel that you are scared, and not just by the way that tiny heart is beating. That link, our link, was never really severed. Your little red headed weapon thinks that she saved you, but all she did was put you back in the driver's seat, I was always still in the car. Watching you, waiting for the best moment, for the moment when you were on your knees and you were holding onto a single shred of hope, that was the best time for me to come back. The best time for me to take back my little toy soldier and wind up the key. Are you ready little Hawk?"

Clint couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't not know if it was real. Going against his better judgement, Clint opened his eyes and he was met by a set of crazed green eyes.

Loki.

"See? There we go Barton, there is no need to be afraid, I only want my friend back."

From seemingly out of nowhere Loki lifted a long spear of gold, the tip was pointed and pulsing a faint blue. The sceptre. Clint was certain he was going to throw up his oatmeal.

"How do you have that?" He gasped out.

"Oh this old thing?" Loki turned it over in his hands the way a child would a newly found stick. "It's one of the perks of being king."

"King?"

"Oh yes, King of Asgard." A small smile formed on Loki's lips as he flashed gold for a moment. Then like Loki had disappeared a old man with unruly white hair, fancy clothing and a gold eye patch stood in front of Clint. It lasted only a second before Loki flashed back into view, when he did his brow was dotted with sweat and his face was missing some colour.

Clint frowned at this, why was Loki so put out by a rather simple trick?

Loki, seeming as if he had read Clint's thoughts gave a heartless laugh.

"Worried about me Barton?"

"Never."

"I'm fine, it's just been so long since I've used magic on earth and it takes some getting used to. Even with the Tesseract."