A/N – Hello How are you my fine readers. I am back with another chapter of my story. So some odd snippet of the life, I WANT TO GO TO NABUTAUTAU! Even though it is supposedly haunted, well I don't care. I still want to go. Why because I feel the greatest what up in the world is 'Yeah well, I have been to Nabutautau. I think that would be cool.

Alright you no longer have to hear me rant about Nabutautau, but please read, review, and remember to look out for the next chapter, after all those are the three R's

Lots 'o Love

All4TheBest


With Erin

Erin moaned as her eyelids twitched she cringed her nose able the smell the blood that streamed from her right nostril. She was never the one prone to nose bleeds, that was Peter, but from the few she had gotten she knew to lean forward instead of back.

Moving to push herself from a lying position Erin realized she was not lying down at all. In fact she was slumped against a wall. She went to move her hands to find them secured behind her back. Wiggling her fingers she realized they were bound together with rope. She then tried to hook her thumbs around the knot as to pull herself loose. It didn't work very well the bounds on her wrist just seemed to get tighter and the already dark unrecognizable room she sat it fell into complete darkness.

"I see you are awake." A voice said in Russian making Erin head flip around to the direction of the sound. Lights flickered on eliminating the room and making the small girl cower back. A man in all black walked up to her and let her out of her binds, he had dark hair and dark eyes, but that is really all Erin took notice of before he disappeared. A second man with graying black hair said as he entered the room. He wore a suit that looked out of place in the concrete room. It also looked out of place on his calloused hands and slumped posture.

A small off color speck in his ear told Erin that this was no more than a gun men, His old warn sneakers also did not match the otherwise put together look. He carried a metal fold out chair and a small tv dinner table that he then proceeded to set in the middle of the room.

"Come, Sit," He demanded this time in English, Erin not knowing how long she would be here decided with a demand as easy as sit, she would comply. For now, that is. Moving to sit on the metal chair she took in a sharp breath when she realized that the chair was cooler than expected and chilled her bare lower thigh, seeing as she was only clad in a denim cuffed mid-thigh length shorts and her purple long sleeve top with a ruffled boddest.

"load the gun," The man huffed as a hand gun landed on the table along with other components that Erin guessed one would need to load a gun. Erin however had no idea how one would use said elements.

"You must be pretty dumb if you hand your hostage a gun," Erin said stalling for time. "I mean I am almost five and I know that you don't want the peoples you fightin' to have a gun, So givin' 'um one, Is pretty stupid." She explained.

"I said load the gun," The man demanded this time in Russian pointing to the contents. Erin didn't understand the words but the message rang loud and clear. Looking up at the man she took a deep breath, 'don't be scared' she told herself as she swallowed hard.

"I don't know how," She said truthfully and was met with a backhand across the face out of instinct Erin's hands shot up to the now throbbing temple a sob escaping the confines of her throat. Her mind flashed to the last time she had felt a hand collide with her face. Her eyes widened as she winced.


Flashback

In the dead of December Clint Barton stood his shoulders shaking and breath erratic. The beer clinched tightly in his fist. He barely ever drank, and he was sure never to do so in front of Erin. But tonight he had fished a bottle from the ice box he hid in his closet for days like this. Days when the memories, when the gushing red ledger just became too much.

Natasha was on mission and Erin was, to his knowledge, staying with the parkers for one more night. He would pick her up in the morning. That and the hectic state his brain was in made the man uneasy and detached from his surroundings.

No other reason would explain why he didn't hear the door open, or why he didn't hear Erin bustle around the apartment. But he should have heard her call to him. If he had the fallowing events would have turned out differently.

Finding her Daddy Erin did not think before running to him.

"Your home Daddy!" She called out a wide toothy smile on her face as she ran up to him, not noting his stoic posture. She then moved to hug him and was met by the back of his hand hitting her cheek as he wiped around his eyes far from Forest Hill New York.

It was a reflex and not extremely powerful. Nowhere near as hard as the man could hit, but Erin still stumbled backward and fell. Tears welling in her eyes not from pain she hadn't even registered that, but from sheer shell shock.

"Daddy," She said with a weighted breath, Clint's previously foggy eyes cleared as he looked down at his daughter who was holding her cheek with one hand and using her other fist to try and wipe her tears. Her small body racked as the sobs escaped her previously smiling lips.

"Erin," He whispered as he opened up his arms to his baby girl. He then saw something flash in front of Erin's baby blue eyes. An emotion that was not very common for the girl unless there was thunder in the sky. Fear, Erin scurried back using a one armed crab walk before turning pushing herself to her feet and running.

"Erin," He called again throwing the practically full beer bottle into the sink hearing the glass shatter on contact but ignoring it. He reached the girls door as it was slammed and he heard the definite sound of the girls lock.

"Erin, Erin, please open up," He pleaded with the three year old on the other side of the door. He could hear the patting of her feet away from the hall. "Daddy is sorry Erin, please just open the door." He slid down to his knees resting his head on the wood that was slightly cooled from the air conditioning.

"Please Erin, please, let Daddy explain." He whispered.

"I no bad guys daddy, I thought bad guys was gone. I thought they no come here, that why you and Tasha and da o'ters go bye byes. So no bad guys come here." Came the girls soft voice laden with tears and sleep from the other side of the wood.

"They are, I mean most…." Clint began and then let out a exasperated sigh. "Erin, please open the door, I won't come in if you don't want me to." Clint sighed and heard the door unlock and peeked open. Erin's blue eyes where blood shoot, her one cheek slightly red and irritated, her small chest and shoulders heaving with each breath.

"Stay hall daddy," the girl instructed and Clint did not fight her on the matter. He was surprised Erin opened the door in the first place. He moved so he was sitting more comfortably on the floor. He for the first time that night got a good look at his baby girl. Erin had her curly dark red locks pulled into two piggy tails her bangs growing a bit long, Clint knew they were growing bothersome by the fact they were brushed to the side.

She wore the pink night gown that Clint had got her for her last birthday; it had a picture of Piglet, from Pooh, on the front. Piglet was the girl's second favorite character, and no matter how many stores Clint looked at there were no owl night gowns. The night gown showed just how much Erin had grown since her last birthday, the gown originally a bit big and hanging below the girl's knees was now probably a few inches above the knee cap.

Her light blue fleece cloud blanket was wrapped around her shoulders as she took a seat right in front of her father and waited. Owl sitting in her lap.

"Erin, some bad guys are harder to make go away," He said hoping the small girl would at least somewhat understand.

"Dat why sometimes dey in dwems?" The child gargled the need for sleep lacing her voice. Clint sighed but nodded all the same.

"Yes Erin, sometimes they come in dreams, but you don't have to close your eyes to be dreaming." Clint whispered.

"Da bad guys go bye byes now." Erin asked her head cocking to the side her one piggy tail falling in front of her neck making her resemble a small dog. Clint fought back a smile.

"I don't know Erin," He said and was surprised when Erin stood up and took her father's face in her small hands. She then began to shake it, "get out bad guys," she said with the sternest voice she could muster in her small frame.

"Dey mostly gone daddy," She whispered as if it were a secret.

"Then thank you Erin," Clint smiled pulling his daughter not only into his arms but also into his lap. "How is your cheek Erin, daddy didn't mean to hit it." He said brushing his hand over the cheek surprised when the young girl didn't flinch.

"It o'tay, nut'in Ice pop and cola no fix." The child announced and Clint smiled.

"Is that your price, we can have ice pops, but it is too late for cola, you can have cola with breakfast alright." Clint said Erin pouted for a moment before nodding her head.

"O'tay daddy, Cola in mornin'," Erin said as she scrambled off her father's lap and ran into the kitchen, Clint and Erin then ate there Ice pops, grape and blue raspberry respectively, they ended up falling asleep in the living room watching Mulan until they both fell asleep.

Natasha found them asleep the next morning. Clint looking quite uncomfortable as he flopped on the couch one hand on the floor the other holding Erin's back. Erin on the other hand was the vision of comfort making it clear there was no place safer to the three year old than her father's arms. Erin woke first brushing her bags out of her face and snuggling deeper into her father's chest. Natasha caught the small girls eye.

"Da bad guys no go bye byes, I help." Was the three year olds answer to the unspoken question.


She knew this slap was different though, it stung harder and was in ever since of the word deliberate. No one would apologize for this slap, and she would not be eating a blue raspberry ice pop while curled safely in her father's lap. She was with the bad guys of Tasha and Daddy's stories, and they weren't just bad dreams any longer.

"I said, you cry I hit harder, you try to cover it I hit harder, understood," The man growled Erin whimpered but nodded all the same. Yet her whimper was not enough for the man.

"Understood," He said striking her once again this time with the but of his gun, Erin yelped and flinched once again but didn't cover the bruise.

"Yes," she stated swallowing the lump in her throat she then felt the man's hand grip tightly to the back of her neck forcing her head forward.

"Then load the gun," He instructed once again in Russian.

"I don't know how," Erin said,

"Russian!" the man yelled.

"I don't speak Russian, well not very well at least." Erin murmured.

"We're just gonna have to change that," He said before saying something else in Russian Erin didn't understand. Soon Erin learned the smacking must have been a gloved hand technique because there others where immensely more violent.

Hours later a beaten, bruised, and Erin was glad when after a while something of more importance came and Erin was thrown back into the concrete room. Crawling over to the corner Erin settled as best she could on the concrete ground and allowed herself to cry. She knew however she needed her sleep so she sucked in as much air as she could with her bruised ribs and began to sing.

"Fuentecita, que corre" She sang softly to herself before taking in a sharp hiss of breath.

"clara y sonora," She sang through clenched teeth tears still running down her face taking in shaky breaths. She tried to imagine she was in her own bed with her Daddy and her Tasha as Natasha stroked her hair and her father sang along as well. She could hear her father's voice.

"Ruiseñor que en la selva cantando llora

Calla mientras la cuna se balancea

A la nanita nana, nanita ella" She imagined her father singing as she closed her eyes. Her labored breathing soon settled and calmed, Erin was out like a light her back against the wall, curled up in her normal yet odd position. She was on her side with one leg strait and the other knee resting against the bed making her stomach lay flat on the bed she was holding her neck craned forward to rest on the floor. Her dark red hair cascaded over her face as she hoped she would wake up in her own bed.


With Natasha

Fallowing Natasha's break down after hearing the news of the only thing she considered a family the Back Widow returned to her post with new vengeance. If it was in any way connected to either disappearance she knew of it. The agents, who were close to Natasha, even though there were few, knew the pace the red haired Russian was billowing forward at was unhealthy.

It had been almost twenty four hours and she could not find anything on the absent archer. They had found the man who had kidnapped Erin; his name was Luka Nureyev, at the moment he was two floors under Natasha's feet being held on ice.

Whoever took Erin they covered their tracks damn well. Which made Natasha think they were either ignorant or stupid; she guessed it was a little bit of both. After yet another search to come up empty she slammed her fists against the desk she was using the pen she had gripped in her hand earlier splitting the wood.

She sat there head buried deep into shaking hands. The heal of her hand rubbing into her closed eye socket. Trying to not cry again, crying was emotive, and emotions where weakness. Love was for Children, she reminded herself, though she had thrown that lesson out the window long ago. When she didn't listen to her brain and leave that first night.

With a sigh she pulled the picture of Erin and Clint where the former was dangling upside down tucked inside her breast pocket. She fingered the slightly faded photo running her thumb over the crease in the middle.

"You should get some rest," She heard Coulson say behind her.

"I will rest when we find them." Was her answer spoken threw clinched teeth.

"Natasha, They will be fine, we will continue to search, at least get some coffee," He said.

"I am fine," Was Natasha's clipped answer.

"You are exhausted, and don't deny it, I was standing in the back of the room for twenty minutes and you didn't note my presence." He said now next to the Russian agent, he laid a hand against her shoulder and moved her face to lock eyes with his own.

"I will tell you if… when we get a hit. In this state you are not helping anyone. You need rest Natasha, you are spent." He said pushing the red head from the computer. This was something Coulson usually wouldn't do if he wished to keep all of his fingers. The lack of reaction from Natasha just showed how tired she was.

"I…" She said.

"Will thank me later, Get going Agent Romanoff," Coulson said and Natasha just sighed as she moved to exit.

"If anything happens…" She said.

"You will be informed," Was Coulson's answer. "Now get some sleep Natasha, we will find them." He added.

"I know," Natasha sighed as she left the room. It was a few hours of rest before Natasha was awoken. They had found Clint, he was alive… not much more was on the positive side of this retrieval. He was alive, even if he was near death.


With Erin

"We need to move, the Hawk escaped. We could be compromised," A hidden voice instructed from the dark corner of the room. Only one light was on shining on the suited man that had spoken to Erin earlier.

"Where do you suggest we go?" The suited man asked staring blankly a head. His voice showing indication of care.

"Russia, I think Boris could use a new Widow candidate."


A/N – Theres the end of the chapter, I know the parts where Shor, so they have found Clint More of Clint and Natasha will be in next chapter, and the black widow program. Borderline Clintasha but that comes later. Anyways I hope you all liked the chapter this was probably the most challenging to write.

Anyways please Read, Review and Remember to look for the next chapter, those are the three R's.

Lot's O Love

All4TheBest