Clint finds Steve and Bruce in Loki’s temporary room (both comfortable and extremely secure - Avengers mansion really does have everything). Loki’s wrapped in a blanket and looks like he’s wearing someone’s oversized t-shirt beneath it - from the Culver University logo Clint’s guessing it’s Banner’s. Bruce himself is sitting gingerly in a chair next to the bed. Steve’s perched on the end, looking fragile in oversized clothes with turned-up cuffs.
“Hey, kid, how’s it going?” Clint asks. Loki still looks pale and kind of shaky - whatever spell he used to fend off Natasha’s debris was a little too much for him in child-size. He’d thrown up immediately afterwards, and then nearly burst into tears until everyone present promised they’d never tell Thor. It had been mind-breakingly endearing and is another thing on the exponentially expanding list of things that Clint is not going to think about until he absolutely has to.
“I am fine,” Loki says. “Really, it was just a bit of overexertion. I should not have tried that spell on such a scale without more practice.”
“Well, I for one am glad you did,” Steve says reassuringly. “I’m sorry it made you sick, though.”
“Will you be okay by yourself for a minute?” Clint asks. “I need to borrow Steve and Bruce for a sec.”
Loki inclines his head. “Of course.”
“Great.” Clint smiles at him. “Pepper should be by in a bit with some better clothes for you.” Clint is half-convinced that Pepper is some variety of divine being, or maybe secretly triplets. Running Tony’s life is enough stress without also running Stark Industries and making sure the Avengers don’t self-destruct in her free time.
Her reaction to female Tony had been pretty priceless, too. It’s the only reason Clint isn’t currently worrying about whether or not Tony’s going to remember to use protection in his quest for comprehensive anatomical knowledge.
He gathers Steve and Bruce together a short way down the hall in deference to Bruce’s continued balance problems. “It’s like operating a body by remote control,” Bruce explains, seeing their sideways glances. “My brain still thinks it’s in my real body. Nothing’s in proportion and all the musculature’s wrong.”
Clint bites back hard on the observation that Natasha’s body is pretty much the definition of being in the right proportions and the musculature’s only wrong because Bruce refuses to learn how to fight when he’s not Hulked out. Insult to injury, and all that.
“Okay,” he says instead. “Coulson left me in charge for some reason so I’m picking you as the two most likely to be remotely sane about this. What the hell do we do now?”
“Coulson left you in charge?” Bruce asks, eyebrows climbing.
“He went for a drink.”
“Coulson went for a drink? Okay, now I’m scared.”
“To be fair, he’d just gotten off the phone with Fury,” Clint says, and the other two wince in sympathy. “So... any ideas?”
There’s an embarrassed pause.
“Maybe Strange can help?” Bruce offers. “If we can get in touch with him, I mean.”
“The Asgardians might also have some experience with this,” Steve says thoughtfully. “One of their own is affected by it.”
“Two of their own,” Bruce reminds him quietly. “How well do you think they’re going to take this whole Loki thing?”
“What’s Asgard’s position on capital punishment?” Steve asks, looking worried. “I mean, evil sorcerer, sure, but right now he’s just a kid.”
“Shit,” Clint says tiredly. “I do not want to be the one to cause an intergalactic political incident.”
Steve squares his narrow, bony little shoulders. It somehow manages to look both ridiculous and disturbingly adorable. “Okay - here’s the plan: we try to contact Strange for help and in the meantime we see if Loki can tell us anything. He’s clearly learned some magic already and he’s the safest and most conscious Asgardian we’ve got at the moment.”
“Without telling him he was the one who caused it all because he grows up evil.”
They trade depressed looks.
“Let’s go see if Pepper’s back yet,” Bruce says gloomily.