"I am allergic to pouting faces. Sorry."
Clint didn’t actually think someone had released Loki, but he knew the god enough to be certain that he had escaped, and he feared him enough to doubt that any prison, any chain would ever hold him, no matter what Thor tried.
For a few moments he just stayed silent, then he sighed and lowered the gun, still glaring at Loki. Fine. There would be no shooting tonight. “Better make sure he doesn’t escape again or I swear the next bullet goes straight between his eyes.”
Loki tries to peer around Thor, letting his hand slip away from the injury because, well, he’s had worse.
"I would just love that, Agent Barton. Does my face perhaps bring back happy memories of our time together? Have you missed me that much?”
Thor heaved a sigh of relief when the gun was lowered and turned to look at his brother again. His sigh turned to a grumbly grumble.
"Shut up, Loki."
He reached out to inspect and press the wound on Loki, and wiped his hands on Loki’s shirt afterward. “Stay here, I am going to get the first aid kit. Clint, keep an eye on him…” he trailed off a bit, muttering to himself as he searched the room for the kit. His mutters slipped into the old speak and back to English, and mostly were about how stupid Loki was, getting grey hairs, and punching Loki in the face — or letting Clint punch Loki in the face while Thor held him still.
But, by the time he returned, he stopped being grumpy and set about poking and bandaging the wound.
Clint only growled when Thor slipped between them before he could pull the trigger, but he didn’t lower the gun. “Get out of the way, Thor.” Oh, he didn’t plan on letting Loki escape again. “I thought he was paying for his crimes? Yet here he wanders as if he’s being invited, without any problem whatsoever.” And Loki was not to be trusted. There would be trouble again soon, he could just smell it.
The fact that Loki doesn’t shut up doesn’t help either. Clint doesn’t relax, if anything the vein on his arm indicates that he is more than tense and struggling to keep his hand calm. “Step aside, brother. I’m not going to let him ruin things again. If your kind can’t deal with him, I will.”
There is a low chuckle from behind Thor, and Loki steps to the side, carefully eyeing the gun-toting archer, one hand raised in mock innocence while the other presses against the wound.
"The way you dealt with all of those people who got in our way? You were so good at that, Agent Barton.” His gaze shifts toward Thor again, eyes narrowing in disdain at his once-brother. ”Step aside, Odinson, we have unfinished business, he and I.”
Thor grumbled. Step aside, Thor, step aside. He was tempted to step aside and let them kill each other for a moment, until he remembered he liked both of them and didn’t want them to die. Also, getting the blood stains out of the floor would be a nightmare later.
"Your face is going to have unfinished business with my fist, Loki, if you do not shut up…" Thor said over his shoulder to Loki, facing Clint now and crossing his arms. "Our kind can deal with him. I do not know how he escaped this time, but we will figure it out and prevent it from happening again. We did not release him. I promise. Just… put that ting down." He took a step forward, his eyes moving to the gun in Clint’s hands and then back up to his face. "Please. I will keep an eye on him until I can take him back."
He really did not want to have to explain to his mother why he brought back Loki bleeding again. That seemed to happen a lot.