This is a WiP. I will try and update at least once a week, but updates are likely to be sporadic (as anyone who read along with my Psych fics will know...)! Read the chapter notes, as I will be putting any additional warnings in there.
Also, the F word is used a lot in here, as it is in all the OCD verse stories.

Three missions. Three fucking missions and one whole week. That's how long Coulson had been back in the field as handler to the Avengers. Three missions, and Clint was chained hand and foot and sitting in a dog cage. Yeah, he was never going to live this down.

"Ah, Agent Barton. Or do you prefer 'Hawkeye'?"

"Fuck you."

When he'd woken up, chained and bound, he'd thought he was in the middle of a flashback. Then he'd noticed the cage and the lack of Phil, and panicked. It probably says something bad about your lifestyle if your first thought when you wake up chained hand and foot is that you're having a flashback to the last time you were kidnapped. Seriously, he needed to change his lifestyle. Maybe take up golf.

Not that the last time hadn't been fun. They'd had him chained by his wrists to the ceiling, his ankles to the floor, and they'd left him there alone. They still had no idea how he escaped, which always made Clint smile. The rumours that had flown around following that! It had done wonders for his reputation. In truth, Phil and Natasha had snuck in and unchained him, leaving no trace of their presence. Thinking about it, it was probably those rumours that had led to his current predicament.

Not the actual capture, but the way he was being contained. He was stripped to his boxer shorts (to ensure he had no lock picks or weapons) and he had heavy manacles around his wrist that were attached by a chain to each other, and to the equally heavy manacles around his ankles. And he was in a dog cage. A cramped, cold dog cage. As in a cage for dogs. Which, seriously, he was never going to live that down. The cage itself was sitting on a concrete floor in the middle of a large open space. It felt to Clint like it was underground, so he was going with basement. There were four guards standing around his cage, one at each corner. And the bossman was standing in front of him. He was short yet well muscled, and he was wearing a very expensive suit. Actually, the boss had been monologue-ing the whole time Clint had been assessing his situation. Something about 'how dare Clint talk to him like that?' and 'didn't Clint know who he was?'

Maybe he should actually start listening. Not that it mattered what the guy said. Coulson was coming for him. He wouldn't be here long.

"You're purpose here is twofold. First, you function as bait. Secondly, and more importantly, you will tell us all you know. Starting with the access codes to Stark Tower."

Clint laughed.

"Access codes? That's what this is about? You get that they change those codes whenever one of us gets caught?"

"None of them have realised you're missing yet. In fact, they probably won't notice at all."

"What?" That's not true, that can't be true.

"We're keeping them nicely distracted. And one of my men is skilled at deception. He gave a message to your handler that you were injured, and would be taken to a hospital." He smiled a shark toothed smile. "I'm sure by the time they realise you are not in a hospital bed, it will be too late."

"You don't know my team." Clint grinned.

"I know them well enough. And I know that you can be compromised."

"Really?"

"You have a track record. Loki is only the most recent black spot in your file." He waved a buff folder that Clint hadn't noticed up till then. "Besides, you are the easiest to capture, the easiest to manipulate."

"Why is it always me?" Clint asked, not really talking to the bad guy, rather he was talking to the universe as a whole. "Seriously. Why me? How come everybody seems to think I'm the weak spot? I may not have superpowers, but I'm a fucking assassin! Why not Tony? I mean, take away his suit and he's just a poor little billionaire! Or Natasha, she's the girl! Shouldn't you be stereotyping her as weak?"

"You are joking. She is the Black Widow. We know what she can do." He laughed, and Clint laughed too. "You are obviously not yet able to take your situation seriously. Is okay. We have time." He leaned down and scratched gently at Clint's hair through the bars of the cage. Clint didn't have room to pull away. "Stay. Think. I will be back later."

He turned and walked out.

"So," Clint said, smiling winningly around at his guards. "How about them Yankees?"

He should be worried. He knew he should be worried. And he was. sort of. But he wasn't as worried as anyone else in a similar position would be. Coulson was coming. The Avengers too of course. But Coulson was coming. He had to be, and everyone who had hurt Clint would be in for a very bad time when he got there.

Coulson was coming. It would be alright.

Yeah, I know it's short, but it's just to set up the situation. Following chapters should be longer.