The Adventures of Kid Loki

Dark Dreams of a Dark Past

Clint looked around.  It only took him a second to see that he was in a bus station.  Clint gripped his bow and turned around.  Standing a few feet in front of him, was a teenage boy.  His hair was sandy blonde, and his eyes blue, but he had sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.  He was carrying a backpack and map and two bus tickets.  Clint could feel his heart beating so hard, it was threatening to come out of his chest.  "Clint!" he heard the teenager shout and somebody blew by Clint.  Hawkeye's hand reached out as he saw his younger self go running by, also sporting a backpack and a pair of purple sunglasses.  "There you are!  I was getting worried!" the teenager said as he pulled Kid Clint in for a hug.  The real Clint bit his lip until it started to bleed. 

"Barney!  I hoped that you hadn't left without me!" Clint said as he gave his older, half-brother a hug.  Barney Barton ruffled his hair and laughed.

"Come on!  I wouldn't do that to my baby brother!  Not when we're starting a new life together!" Barney told him.

"Where are we going?" young Clint asked him as they gave their tickets to the bus driver and got on.  Even though they were inside, Hawkeye could still hear their voices inside his head. 

"We're going to the circus!  There's a guy I've heard of: Maynard Tibolt!  He's really good at getting youngsters like us jobs.  You can finally put your amazing aim to good use!" Barney said as he put his arm around Clint's neck and pretended to strangle him.  Clint laughed.  The laughter was innocent.  Little did he know, that innocence would be destroyed the moment they joined the Circus of Crime.  The real Clint was just standing there numbly, his bow hanging in his hands.  Tears slid silently down his cheeks.  He had looked up to his brother, and then, they had gotten mixed up in that life. 

"Oh the shame!" said a hateful voice and Clint spun around, an arrow on the string.  But Loki was nowhere to be seen.

"What do you want?!  Get out of my head!" Clint snapped angrily.

"Oh, but I'm not in your head.  You're in mine," Loki responded and Clint gasped.  "I can see everything about you.  Your past and your present.  You and I are similar in one regard, Clinton Barton.  We both had brothers we once respected and loved.  But, their pride and arrogance was their own undoing."

"Unlike you, I didn't try to take over the world to show up my older brother!" Clint yelled in return.  Loki's hollow chuckle filled Clint's ears and he stopped breathing.

"No, but, you did put an arrow in his eye," Loki responded.  Clint sunk to his knees, his arms wrapped around himself, crying at the memory. 

Steve had no idea where he was.  It looked like a wooden hallway, but there were no windows.  He spun around at every sound, shield at the ready, but, nothing was ever there.  Suddenly, light enveloped him and Steve was momentarily blinded.  When the light dissipated, Steve was staring at himself in a hospital bed.  The baseball game was playing on the radio, and little Steve was looking out the window listlessly.  The door to the room opened, and Steve saw his parents enter.  "Steve!  My boy!  Are you alright?" his mother asked as she sat down next to him and pulled him into her arms.  His arm was in a sling, and his head was bandaged.  One eye was blackened, and his lips were puffy from being split.  Steve's father just shook his head and looked at the doctor.

"He got into a fight with bigger boys.  Again.  I recommend that you talk to your son about picking fights with people stronger than him," the doctor said.

"Trust me, I have.  A lot," Mr. Rogers responded and the doctor left the room.  He turned back to Steve and sighed.  "What was the reason this time?" he queried.

"They were tormenting a kitten.  It was a stray, and they decided to tie it to the back of their bicycles and drag it behind them," Steve explained, his lip trembling.  Mr. and Mrs. Rogers smiled slightly at each other and hugged Steve carefully.

"We're proud of you for standing up, Steve.  But, fighting is not right.  You just can't.  You're not... not..."

"Not big enough," Steve said, finishing his sentence.  He sighed, but his mother kissed his forehead.

"No matter what, you'll always be my little hero," she whispered to him.  The real Steve cuffed a tear from his face, but that was when he felt something near his shoulder.  He turned around, and saw a shadow beside him.

"Who are you?" he asked, reaching his hand out, but touching nothing. 

"I am the one who was exposed once.  Now, I do the exposing.  Sweet memory, Stevie Wonder," the voice said, and Steve caught the sarcasm right away.

"Loki," he said as he brought his shield up.

"Why does everyone always sound so surprised?  What did you expect?" Loki asked, sounding slightly injured.  Steve glanced around, wondering why Loki was not taking a physical form.

"Is there something wrong with your body?" Steve queried. 

"Yes.  I still have the body of a child.  But my mind only responds to my true adult form.  Besides, that is also in pain," Loki told Steve.

"They torturing you?" Steve asked, looking back at his parents as they vanished from his sight.

"They're not giving me a spa day," Loki responded dryly.  Steve sighed, knowing all he was going to get out of the god, was acerbic answers.

"What can the Avengers do to help?"  Steve heard Loki sigh and he guessed that he was getting annoyed with all the questions.  Maybe, now that Steve was offering his help, Loki would give him a straight answer. 

"Keep on dreaming.  One of you will get to me soon," Loki said before Steve felt alone again.

"I guess the straight answer was too much to hope for," Steve muttered to himself, before he allowed his memories to pull him once again, into the darkness.