➵ for deltas ● you scared me i see the glint of stone but you never come through

[arches]

<sub>( The battle is not yet lost, but it will be, soon. Loki has managed to scatter the Avengers, unleashing the beast and hurtling his brother off the helicarrier. Whith the Chitauri descending upon New York, only Iron Man and the captain are left to stand against them. And what of the Widow? She weighs her priorities, and chooses her partner over the rest of the world. She goes after Hawkeye.

Not that he is aware of any of this. After escaping the helicarrier with his master, the enslaved agent has been standing guard, waiting for orders. He is underground, in the subways. Arrows and bow at the ready, he is the perfect soldier. His eyes, his most famed feature, glow an eerie, lifeless blue. He stands straight, moves with hollow and robotic motions. He is an empty shell.

And the real Clint Barton? He is locked away, somewhere. Surrounded by darkness and shadows, he is minimally aware of what is transpiring around him. Only hollowly conscious, he must have still felt it when the helicarrier crashed to earth. Must have felt Phil Coulson's dying breaths. Must have known the name of every agent he took out. But locked away as he is, he can do nothing, not even scream. )</sub>

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[arches]

<sub>( And he feels her slip away, and reaches up to brush her hair away from her face and close her eyes. He doesn't make say anything, just lays her on the ground and scoots away from her, hands over his face.

It takes him a minute to realize he's screaming, a harsh, guttural noise from the back of his throat that won't stop. )</sub>

[trickstering]

[And that's when Loki comes back, one hand on Clint's shoulder, the other with a knife ready.]

Agent Barton.

[Oh, he knows it'll make him angry, the way he he stands calm and collected as if nothing had happened, as if he didn't understand - or perhaps more appropriately, care - for the situation at hand. Coffee cup casual, until he speaks again, and then his voice is at a biting whisper, meant to cut as sure as knives.]

What fine work you've done.

[arches]

_{( When Loki says his name, he doesn't react. He registers the presence but can't stop screaming, can't even brush off the trickster's hand. It's when he speaks again that Clint lunges, with a strangled cry, not going for any weapons or thinking about what he's doing. All he knows is that he wants this man dead. )}

[trickstering]

And yet, I find that I need you no longer.

[Clint is far too clumsy in his anger to really best Loki. He'd always fought with knives, and it made him quick and nimble on his feet, and that was saying nothing about his magical abilities. He avoids Clint's lunge with ease (there's little to avoid when he's unarmed) and retaliates throwing a knife. It's not the kill he wants, oh no, he'd rather make it personal. This entire plan had been about making it personal.]

[arches]

_{( His vision is blurry with anger and pain and fatigue. The knife catches him in the chest, close to his heart. He lets out another howl and the momentum from his lunge drops him to his knees as he hisses in pain. There's pain behind his eyes, pain born of emotion and loss. But he gets up again, and grabs for one of the arrows that had scattered to the ground earlier. He's still turning around in circles, trying to get a lock on Loki. )}

[trickstering]

[It doesn't matter, he's suddenly behind him, reaching around to twist the knife, pull it closer to the mark.]

What do you think she thought in her last moments? Watching you do that? Did she stay as unattached as you've always thought?

[arches]

Shut-- _{( He can barely draw breath, now, can't stop himself from screaming in between the words-- )} Up--!

[trickstering]

You're a good fighter, Barton. [He pulls the knife out, it's not like there's really much more he needs to do.] I will miss you.

[arches]

<sub>( And that just about takes it out of him; Clint crumples to the ground in a pool of his own blood. He can barely crane his neck to shift his view, but he forces it--if he's going to die, he's not going to die looking at Loki's face.

He's going to die looking at Natasha's dead body. )</sub>