A/N: Lo and behold another chapter. Not as good as the last chapter (in my opinion), but it's something. And I think it gives a little insight into some people.

We're all human. (Well, except for aliens and gods and the like. But they feel feelings, too!)

[A few months prior, several hours after the alien attack on New York]

New York is half destroyed, but I'm sitting at my desk on what's left of the helicarrier with my phone to my ear.

"Please, pick up"... My own words sound brittle and small in the stiff air. But my pleas go unanswered and I'm glad my door is locked. Bending forward, I rest my head on the edge of my desk and dial the number again.

I don't want to believe what I know to be true. I don't want to believe the news reports; I don't want to believe our intel.

But no one answers the line. I've called at least fifteen times now. I've called her cell, I've called that landline we still somehow have.

And there's nothing. I can't trace her on our systems either.

Nothing.

Little drops of water fall on my shoes and I wonder if the carrier is leaking before I realize that I'm crying. Letting go of my phone, my hands cover my face and my body shakes.

My Alicia; my wife. My Jennifer; my daughter.

Dead.

Killed in the attack.

My love and my baby.

God.

Agent Brian Pierce stayed in his office for hours that day, and no one disturbed him.

It's night, and Clint can only hope that Loki is sleeping.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing.

In… Out… In… Out…

Dark, cold, and damp. It smells of something… rotten. Waste and old sea water. Indeed, the sound of the ocean lapping against rocks choruses from somewhere nearby. Taking a few steps, his eyes adjust to the dark and the sound of a slow and constant dripping whispers in his ears, each drip followed by a quiet hiss.

It's a cavern or cave that he's in, he can see that now. The stone surrounding him and below his feet is glowing a dull blue. This hissing becomes more distinguished, and he follows the sound around a corner.

And there he is. Exactly who the archer was looking for. Only…

Loki is tied to a large rock, naked and in the supine position. His body is battered and bruised and torn and bloodied, and though that sort of sight is nothing new to Clint, he still wants to look away. Before he can, though, he catches sight of Loki's face, and that is the worst it seems. Not just for the stiches in his lips, but the pain on his face. And not only pain. A quiet and accepting anguish.

For Clint, it was getting harder and harder to remember the tyrannical and maniacal man-god who had once tried to enslave humanity, and for brief time, had enslaved Clint himself. Another drip sounds, and it's Loki that hisses. It's then that Barton sees the small stream of blood and a cyan liquid that's trailing down the man's side, blue droplets falling from the ceiling like the water from a half-stoppered bottle. He can't quite see what's causing the dripping, but he can see it's causing Loki some deal of pain as the corrosive liquid seers that red spot in his side-the same one he saw when he visited Loki earlier.

The Trickster has yet to take notice of the Archer, Loki's eyes being closed.

"Hey…" Clint's voice echoes dully off the cavern walls, but Loki doesn't respond. Another drip, another hiss.

He takes a step forward. "Loki, look at me, okay?"

There's a flicker of recognition in the god's expression, and his eyes slowly open, eyelashes sticking together as he does so. His adam's apple bobs with swallowing, green gaze staring up at the black ceiling, dread obvious on his face. Finally, his eyes slide over to Clint, and for a brief moment, fear claims his features before he catches a breath through his nose and relief spreads.

Clint almost smiles at that. Not the fear but the relief. Now that's strange. Mere months ago, Clint was angling to kill Loki, but now he was happy (?) to see the god relax. If Clint didn't know better, he might think that he was the one dreaming. How could these thoughts, these feelings, be real?

"Hey, Sandman. Lookin' a little worse for wear."

Loki doesn't even try to smile anymore.

"I need you to pay attention, yeah?"

Another drip falls, and his eyes close and he holds back his hiss this time. But he gives a tight nod. Good. He's cognizant that this is a dream and that Clint's real.

"A few days. That's how long I need. And when the time comes, I'm going to need you to be ready."

Loki's breathing is ragged, but he nods. Clint glances down at his side and bites back a grimace. Loki's physical state is deteriorating, and he wonders what exactly they're doing to him, for he still doesn't know.

"Hey, why hasn't this place disappeared like the last time I was in your head?"

The god simply closes his eyes and turns his face back up to the ceiling.

The cavern fills with roiling fog that smells of salt water and ammonia.

Fun Fact: This chapter makes reference to classic Loki mythology.

I hope the next chapter to flow more smoothly. I kind of like Loki's POV (from the last chapter), especially in first person. Hm. What do you guys think? Do you like third person or first person? Also, what do you think of Agent Pierce now, hm?

xoxo