Clint was walking around the Avengers Tower searching for Natasha. She was supposed to be home today and she was never late. He checked all of the rooms that she would hide (if you could call it that) in. They were all empty but he knew that just glancing wasn't an option when looking for Nat. He peered into all the nooks and crannies that she was able to fit into, which was most of them. His eyebrows furrowed as he wondered where she could be. He had asked the others beforehand and they all had no clue, he had called her phone but there was no answer. He was starting to get worried now. "Where could she be?" he muttered to himself before turning round and heading back to his room in defeat. He paused and one more thought occurred to him as he prepared to give up. Her room.
Weirdly enough, he had never actually been in her room before. They had gotten together before the New York attack, and when Tony asked all of them to move into the new, renamed Avengers Tower, it wasn't a surprise that they were sharing a room. He arrived at her room, and carefully picked the lock. He felt bad, but he needed to know what had happened to Tasha. The door opened with a slight creak and he was generally taken aback at what he saw.
There was stuff everywhere, mainly bottles of alcohol, rubbish and old clothes. This was nothing like the Natasha he knew, she was always so organised and well-prepared that he almost thought he was in the wrong place. This must be where she goes when she gets low. Sometimes, she would disappear for weeks on end because of a mission that didn't go to plan. He never looked for her because he knew that she would be back soon enough, slightly more tired and cranky, but back nonetheless. Natasha was never one for emotions, he knew that from the beginning, so when he turned around to look at the wall he gasped. There hung up in a beautiful frame was a picture of him and Nat when they had a vacation to Florida a few months ago. It was probably the best time of his life and he could tell by her face that it was the same to her. She was relaxed, radiant in the happiness that had overcome her when they got together. She never showed that of course, only when she was alone with Clint. He was grinning and staring at the picture with good memories in his mind.
He finally tore his eyes away from the photo, and started to move over to the computer that was there in the corner, but his foot clipped something that was just out from under the bed. He picked it up to find another photo of a beautiful little girl (around three years old). She had bright red flowing hair and emerald eyes. He thought that she could be Natasha from when she was younger but didn't ponder the matter. He put the photo in his pocket, being careful not to break the frame, just in case he needed it, but he doubted he would. He got to the computer and switched it on. He wasn't perturbed by the fact that it had a password; it was quite easy to guess because the hint was C. She didn't go on here much. He typed his name into the bar and it unlocked. He smiled a little at the thought of him being so important to her now. He scanned through the files searching for something that could possibly link to her not coming back. He couldn't find anything in her documents so he searched through her emails, just to check. There he found something, very, very disturbing. Because she was on a mission, she hadn't read the email so she wouldn't have known that they were after her. Two words changed everything.
Ivan. Drakov.
Ivan had taken her in when her parents died but had sentenced her to a life of misery and pain in the Red Room. When she escaped he wasn't a happy man. And Drakov? He was after her for a totally different reason. She had killed his daughter. It was a pretty bad mission which had forced her to blow the whole building up that they had infiltrated. His daughter was one of a few people that were actually inside at the time and she would never have survived. Drakov never, ever forgave her.
He raced out of the room to the living room where Steve, Tony, Pepper, Bruce, Thor and Jane were. He ran in panting. "Clint what's the matter?" asked Bruce worriedly. He explained through hurried breaths all about Ivan and Drakov and how they had got Natasha, and they were all wide eyed by the time he had finished.
Thor's booming voice spoke first, "We have to save Lady Natasha!" The others agreed but Clint knew better. "There are only two problems with that," they all looked at him "one: we have no idea where she actually is, and two: if we storm in there they will probably just ki..." He gulped. There was a long silence and Tony spoke up "We will do everything we can to try and work out what to do Clint." He looked at him with reassuring eyes and Clint nodded slowly.
Natasha woke up drowsy. Her hands, feet and waist were strapped down by heavy metal chains. She tried to remember what had happened yesterday, before all this. She was walking to her quinjet, ready to go home and see Clint and the others. The mission had been successful and all she wanted now was a nice hot bath (preferably with Clint). Then everything went black.
She surveyed the room around her. It was made of some sort of red clay or mud and it was empty apart from her, a light bulb and a very sophisticated high tech screen, that stood out compared to everything else in the room. She struggled against her chains but they were too heavy and got tighter each time she moved. She wondered who had done this to her. Sure, she had made enough enemies along the way but none who would do this to her, she didn't think. And then a man walked in, snapping her out of her thinking. She looked up and almost passed out. It was Drakov. And he was here for revenge. "No, not you," she managed to say through her shallow breaths. He grinned evilly at her and she knew she was in trouble. He was carrying a needle in his hand and before she knew it there was something going through her bloodstreams and she had no idea what it was. "What have you done to me?" she was scared, but let none of that show. "It's to make the pain 1000 times worse than it would have been," he whispered in her ear, obviously proud of himself. And then the torture began.