Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with 'The Avengers' be it the movies, the comics or cartoons. I am, however, obsessed with the 2012 movie. Any copyright infringement is not intended or inferred.
Ok, this is my version of the sequel to 'Helplessness'. It would be very helpful if you read that story first but I do spend a moment or two explaining what came before in this first chapter.
This story is not Canon. I've based it on the 2012 'Avengers' movie. I know little of the back stories of all these characters but this story wouldn't leave me alone. It may not be plausible but I'm sure having too much fun with it.
Warning: There will be physical and sexual abuse ahead. If this isn't your cup of tea, you might want to try another sequel to 'Helplessness' being written by myownmind. She asked for permission and I gave it to her. She's heavily into hurt/comfort but wasn't too into the graphic sexual abuse stuff. So, try hers. Anyway, on with the story.
Chapter One
"I don't need a babysitter," Agent Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, grated. It had been two months since the attack on Avengers tower and Black Widow's escape from her cell. It had been longer than that since Agent Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow, had returned from a mission after going radio silent for twelve hours. Nick Fury himself had debriefed the woman because of the irregularity during the mission. He'd found nothing untoward about her responses or her medical tests. And yet, within days she drugged Clint Barton, her partner, broke three of his ribs and informed him that if he told any of the other Avenger team members that he was injured or that she had done it, she would kill them.
That was a hollow threat from pretty much anyone else in the world, except for Clint himself who was also a trained assassin. Tasha had also informed Clint that he had a man named Gordon Cave to blame. Cave had been an arms dealer that the two assassins had tried twice to eliminate. He was their only miss. Clint wasn't sure if it was because of his connections or just dumb luck. Either way, the man had captured, brainwashed and sent Tasha back to him, to make Barton suffer for destroying Cave's merchandise and his mansion.
Black Widow had done terrible things to Clint, both physically and sexually abusing him. He'd kept his end of the bargain, though, and not said a word to the others. It was the woman who cleaned his quarters that had found him unconscious and naked on his floor twice that finally broken the silence. He was grateful Sarah had. Thanks to her intervention Tasha was stopped without loss of life.
Since then, though, the other members of the Avengers and Nick Fury were feeling over protective. Despite all their combined efforts, Tasha and Cave remained at large. They refused to let Hawkeye go on a mission alone. Once he even tried to sneak off because he knew he could do it faster without a chaperone. Fury had been, well, furious. He'd been angry enough to insist that Clint have a tracking device inserted under the skin on his inner left bicep. That really pissed Clint off. He hated the thought that SHIELD knew where he was at all times.
"I beg to differ, Agent Barton," Nick Fury responded from the head of the table. The Avengers were gathered around the table in the command center. 3D images floated above it while other information covered every inch of its surface. "This mission is in the Amazon Basin. Our last known location for Black Widow and Gordon Cave are in Peru. That's too close for comfort. I'm not willing to take the chance even if you are."
"It's my chance to take. Besides, who are you going to saddle me with this time? Stark? Thor? Either one of them will be like dragging an elephant behind me when I need to be able to blend into my surroundings," Clint shot back. He understood that they were worried for his safety. He understood because they had every reason to be. Some of the damage Tasha had done to him was just now completely healed.
"I understand that Agent Barton," Fury persisted. "There is no discussion here. You will take Captain Rogers with you. He might not be quite as large an elephant as the others would be." Before Hawkeye had the chance to protest further, the Director of SHIELD nodded at the gathered Avengers and left the room.
"This sucks," Clint grunted as he stared at the map shifting over top of the table. It was a spying mission. Fury had information of a rebel group deep in the Amazon Basin that was threatening to join with international terrorist groups. It was one of the joys of the technical age. Terrorists found each other quickly on the internet or through common contacts. The amount of mayhem and damage the union of the two groups could create was astronomical. Clint was to go in to see if there really was a threat. It was a mission he'd done a dozen times, on his own.
"It could be worse," Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, stated from the other side of the table. "You could be dragging me through the jungle."
Not bothering to reply, Clint scanned the information one last time and then left the room. He had to pack. He and Captain America were heading out in two hours. Cursing under his breath, Clint tried to ignore the sound of Steve's boots following him. They wouldn't even let him walk around Avenger Tower without a damned escort. Fuck.
OOOOO
Clint was silent during the entire trip. He knew it wasn't Steve's fault that Fury shackled Hawkeye with him. It wasn't fair to punish the blond Avenger for something that he had no choice in. Still, Clint really needed some time alone. Not just in his quarters. Although, at this point that was the only place he was alone. As soon as he stepped out his door, someone, be it security (the ultimate slap in the face) or one of his team mates was there, waiting for him. Even the wilds of the Amazon Basin wouldn't be far enough from civilization and other people for the archer.
"Do you want to go over the mission one more time?" Steve asked from the seat across from Clint. He'd tried unsuccessfully to engage the man in conversation since they left New York. He knew the man was tired of being protected. The assassin was a loner. The only person Steve had seen him relate to was Natasha, the woman who'd tortured him for days.
"No," was Clint's laconic response. Outside the window of the plane Fury had chartered for them he watched the lush, green world of the Basin speed by. They were flying fairly low to avoid radar. Clint thought it was stupid. They weren't supposed to be coming anywhere near the rebels but with the kind of luck Clint has had of late he figured they were probably buzzing over them right now.
"Look," Steve said as he shifted closer to the blond archer. The man marginally tensed. He didn't like having people near him. The man's personal space was now huge. It had been big enough before Tasha, now Steve was lucky if he could stay in the same area code and not get the cold shoulder. "The better prepared we are the faster this will go."
"I'm prepared," Clint growled, refusing to look at the man. He could, however, see Steve's reflection in the window. Immediately he regretted his attitude. Steve was always nice, always ready to help, to listen. He didn't deserve to be treated like shit just because Clint was in a bad mood. "Sorry. Do you need to go over it?"
"No," Steve admitted. He too had memorized all the maps and the logistics. Apart from snakes or insects, they should be able to pull this off without a hitch. "We're almost there. Let's get ready."
OOOOO
On the ground Clint immediately felt his nerves going on edge. The landing strip was exactly where Fury had said it was. The plane landed, dumped them and their gear off and took off again. The two Avengers were left on the edge of the strip. Looking to the north all they saw was dense vegetation. The same was to the east, west and south. Clint didn't mind the vegetation. It was the feeling that someone was watching him that caused him to do a slow, careful evaluation of the world around him. He couldn't see anything.
"Are we ready?" Steve asked. The air strip was clear but as soon as its packed edge ended the vegetation was there, trying desperately to reclaim their territory. He'd shouldered his pack and was waiting for the archer to join him. He knew they were headed south west. While he waited for the other man to respond, Steve pulled his compass out and confirmed the direction.
Clint physically shook himself. If he couldn't see anyone then he was imagining things. "Sure. Let's go."
OOOOO
Two miles into the trek, Clint still felt like he was being watched. Again, though, he couldn't see or even hear anything. If someone were shadowing them he expected to see the birds or other animals react to their presence. So far, only he and Steve appeared to be struggling through the dense foliage. It was very hot and very humid. He knew there was a real risk of heat exhaustion but still, he was pressing as hard as he could. He wanted to have this done.
Behind him, Steve was having a hard time keeping up. His exceptional strength and skills allowed him to keep Clint in sight at all times but the archer seemed to almost float over the vines, roots and stalks that tried to catch Steve's feet. It took a lot of time for him to keep from falling on his face.
With each step Clint scanned the trees, the undergrowth, and the world in general, expecting to find that one shadow, that one movement that was out of place. He was still scanning, when there was a low popping sound. Instantly still, Clint frantically searched around him. A sharp pain in his neck was followed by another pop. As Clint fell nerveless to the ground, he saw that Steve was all ready on the ground, unconscious. Then darkness descended.
OOOOO
For the first time in at least a week the dreams were back. Clint was being tormented by the sound of Tasha's laughter. Cold hard fingers were touching him in places he wasn't sure he ever wanted to be touched again. Desperately he fought the grasping hands but he was restrained by heavy metal shackles. Then he was being entered, brutally, forcefully. The pain was beyond anything he'd been through before.
Coming awake with a start, the archer blinked his eyes rapidly to adjust them to the dim light he found himself in. It did little to help him. The cold, damp room he was in had earthen floors and walls. It was an all too familiar location for the assassin. He was in a cell. He was propped against a wall, his arms pulled up over his head with heavy metal shackles. Then Clint realized that he was naked.
"Welcome home, Clint." The voice was all too familiar as was the gentle laughter that followed. It was Natasha Romanoff, somewhere above him. Clint's heart turned to ice. No, not again his mind screamed.
Yeah, I know. Clint wouldn't be captured this easily. But, I couldn't come up with a plausible story where he would be. Please forgive my poetic license. ;)
My next chapter will be out probably after the weekend. I have a huge family deal going on. Somehow writing this while sitting around with my great nieces, senior citizen aunts, and uncles really doesn't seem quite right. But...we'll see what happens.