There's a sharp nod, barely there. He doesn't need to expand upon that, if Albert already knows the answer.

He stole me, he'd once explained to Sam, but though it's true, Clint does not use those words here. Loki unmade him, fingers dug deep into the yield of his mind, and Clint still aches with that some days. Here, now, he shifts, unsure and readying for anything.

"His scepter could control people."