Note to Readers – PLEASE READ THIS! - I don't own any of the characters – simply the plots that run constantly through my head and continually morph into stranger plots that I no longer follow. This story is one for Hawkeye and Black Widow. It is NOT really true to the comics or really the movie. So please don't berate me for changing things. I am not interested in killing Hawkeye and resurrecting him several times (yes that is a consistent happening in the comics – I have read them), and Hawkeye is NOT married to Mockingbird or has any connection to her, though she may make a cameo appearance later in the story if I continue it. Please review this and let me know if it's worth continuing. I've several stories on the go but I'll only keep updating if people are interested in reading it, otherwise I can play the whole thing in my head and be selfishly satisfied.
Intro:
She stood there with her back to him. Though he could tell by the way she turned her head slightly to one side that she was not unaware of his presence, even after all the care he took in being silent. He straightened and held his bow tightly, his other hand ready to retrieve an arrow at moment's notice. If she knew he was there, they would too, although he was sure they were all preoccupied elsewhere, and there really wasn't any place to hide in this room. His trained eyes took in his surroundings, noting the slick walls and taking in the fact that the only way out other than the way he had just come in was a small window in the north corner - easily accessible by him if things got rough.
"You shouldn't have come." Natasha stated, she shifted slightly, the chains from her wrists to the floor clanging noisily.
"See, that's the funny thing about teams," Clint emphasized the word, "you stick together and don't leave people behind."
"You don't understand. I didn't have that much of a choice" Natasha said.
"Everything is a choice. But that doesn't matter right now, we need to get you out of here and go."
"I can't go with you."
"This is ridiculous," Clint snapped, "You joined our team, brought me back, and then you just... left. I don't get it."
"You don't understand." Natasha slowly turned around, her head down, Clinton didn't move but a look of shock crossed his face. The infamous Black Widow was wrapped in a device that looked like an invention from the Stark Corporation, a masterful web of chrome and electric blue gracefully wrapped itself around her torso and her arms. And it had a timer – three minutes remaining.
Clint looked at her, his knuckles turning white on his seeming forgotten bow, their eyes met, Natasha's eyes portrayed her internal fight, pleading and at the same time a defiant resignation to her apparent end.
"Nat, what is that?" Clint looked, his eyes showing his apparent horror at the contraption that ensnared his best friend.
"I don't know, Hawkeye," she stated angrily though her voice softened, "I woke up with it on, it won't come off, I've tried."
"We'll get it off," Clint said desperately walking up to her and inspecting the device, "Stark will be here any second, they were just picking up a few strays. We have time." Clint looked at the timer, two minutes and forty eight seconds. Time was not on their side.
"I don't think I'm leaving this place, Clint." Natasha whispered.