Sorry guys I meant to update this earlier today but last night I woke up in some severe pain and when I finally went back to sleep my body decided to keep me under until WAY past noon.
But onto the fun stuff! Thanks so much to all who took the time to review, they float my boat and keep the inspirational fire lit! Special thanks to those who reviewed for the last chapter! Ms. Perception (I promise you the feels aren't over just yet ^^), Anise Nadiah (Spot on!), Dsgdiva (^^), Bookdancer (I'm glad you found me!), jaguarspot (lol, close ^^), awesomekid34 (You just gave me the biggest compliment one can give a ff writer ^^ Thanks so much! I hope I don't let you down now!), kimbee (hehe ^^ you shall see!), jpgFury (it wasn't that long of a wait, was it? ^^), Hawaiichick (most everything you brought up will be revealed right now!), and the mysterious Guest! (lol, Clintasha feels ^^)
For those who guessed what my favorite part of last chapter was it was when Clint missed ^^ He thought he knew who he was and suddenly he was back to square one.
Chapter Eight
"Good call on adding those drugs to throw off his perception." Reese praised Randle as Clint left them. She casually picked up an arrow before spinning to face her partner.
"Just subtle enough to work without leaving him with the need to question anything." Randle smirked devilishly. "At least now he'll have no choice but to stop asking us to contact Tony Stark. That would be something hard to fake."
"All this trouble." Reese sighed, pricking her finger on the tip of the arrow mindlessly. "I still think we should just repress his memory again. We knew when we performed the first procedure that he might remember some details of his past. That's why we crafted his back-story so carefully – keeping his name so he'd be comfortable and not question anything. Now I'm thinking that was a mistake. The drugs aren't doing enough to keep him compliant."
"They work fine while he's awake," Randle defended himself stubbornly, sounding a bit offended. "I can't control his subconscious. Not without more impressive technology."
Reese frowned, but nodded. "Maybe not, but we can control the way he sleeps. If we can make it so he can't achieve the dream state then our problems will be solved – as long as he stops questioning things."
"He's the only surviving test subject who didn't immediately break down at the first sign of their metamorphosis." Randle sighed looking at her softly. "I'll try anything at this point. Maybe given time I can come up with an added chemical that keeps him from remembering his dreams, but he's already on so many other drugs. It could be dangerous to his liver and his brain – the goal is not to kill him." He smiled brightly pulling the arrow out of Reese's hand as he slipped an arm around her waist. "He is proof that our procedure works. With him we can make millions."
"Aren't you a little concerned that SHIELD has Michael Swift?" Reese asked, fear seeping into her voice.
Randle shrugged off his lovers worry. "I wouldn't worry about Swift. The idiot knew exactly what I wanted him to know – nothing."
"It had to be an Avenger that it worked on – I don't think they'll stop looking for him." Reese sighed.
"They won't find our little experiment – or us." Randle told her confidently, his thumb brushing against the side of her face as they stood close together. "Even if they do manage to get him back he's not the same man they knew."
Reese nodded slowly leaning into Randle's embrace, but her eyes closed with uncertainty. Clint Barton was remembering and there might be a time in which he couldn't be convinced he was imagining things.
"You will tell me everything you know." Natasha circled around the chair Swift was currently restrained to. They were in the heart of SHIELD now and she had the brightest of green lights from the director. Swift was at her mercy – already he was bloody and bruised and she hadn't asked a single question.
"You can torture me for as long as you want, I do not know where Clint Barton is." Michael said simply, staring at the wall in front of him. He paused for a moment before looking directly at Natasha. "Simon thought it best that I not know – I guess he was correct. I have no information regarding your Agent's whereabouts."
Natasha's heart clenched painfully in her chest – the man wasn't lying. She was an expert on reading people when they lied. She could read it on their faces, muscles and posture. This man wasn't even trying to hide.
"Tell me what they've done to him." Natasha changed her tactics. If the man truly had no idea where Clint was, there was no use pushing the subject.
"I haven't been updated on the subject since he was moved." Swift answered, receiving a backhand across his face. He spit blood from his mouth back at her, but Natasha didn't flinch.
The Black Widow didn't care for her former partner being reduced to a one-word description – subject. Like he was an object, not a man.
"You know more than you're telling me." Natasha hissed.
Swift looked at her lazy and smirked ever so slightly. "I don't know his condition – but I can tell you what happened to the others." He offered in a way that sent a shiver down Natasha's spine. Like he knew she wouldn't like what he was about to reveal to her – or that somehow the knowledge she was about to learn would hurt her more than she could ever hurt him.
Still, Natasha had to know. Any information could lead them to Clint.
She gave a nod to get him to continue.
"The first test subject died a rather short, uneventful death. Several adjustments were made to the drug before we tried again. The death of subject two was much more interesting – she set the room on fire and died in the flames."
"A fire? How?" Natasha asked suddenly, her worry increasing.
"I wasn't there of course, but Simon told me she started the blaze with her mind." Swift said simply – as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Natasha's heart beat faster, but she didn't show any stress on the outside. Instead she simply glared at her subject of interrogation. "Continue." She said without the reluctance she felt. She wanted to know what exactly the drug was supposed to do – but first she needed to know if her partner had any chance of surviving.
"The next three subjects died during the procedure. They weren't strong enough, didn't have the right brain chemistry. We started to select more carefully after that." Swift informed Natasha as he glanced up at the security camera filming silent in the corner of the room before continuing his grisly tale.
"The sixth subject went insane. He came through the procedure okay but lost his mind in the initial stages of their recovery. The report said that he could hear people's thoughts and lost the ability to separate one person's thoughts from his own. He was terminated once it was clear he could not recover."
Natasha suppressed a shiver at the word 'terminated' knowing exactly what that meant. The subject was put down like a sick animal.
"The next showed signs of extreme empathy before her suicide." Swift smiled. "I actually wish I knew what happened to the late Agent Barton. What skill he showed signs of before his ultimate death."
Natasha lost it in a flash, her wrist breaking his nose in one swift motion. "For your sake he'd better be alive."
"If he's still alive he's already gone insane – that's just how the drug works. When you're mind is awakened to that kind of power, it changes you." Swift smiled, blood dripping down his chin from his split lip.
Natasha glared, but recovered her emotions – shoving them behind her mask with shaky security. "Where were these procedures done?"
"I do not know." Swift answered honestly. "I was interested in the results, not the process."
"This drug – what exactly did Dr. Randle want it to ultimately do?" Natasha asked, using all her focus to keep her voice level.
"We wanted to do what everyone wants to do – make humans better. Are you aware that we only use an average of ten percent of our brain? The drug we've created – Dr. Randle created – targets a specific section of our brains that is dormant naturally."
"And when awakened these abilities manifest?" Natasha needed to clarify.
"Yes. Or the subject dies. Usually they die." Swift nodded. "You see, our brains aren't used to such – openness. We hoped to have a better grasp on the procedure and switch to younger subjects. Our theory is that younger brains might be able to adapt to the change with more ease than adult brains."
"Why did you use Barton as a test subject?" Natasha asked her final question, accepting what Swift said as the truth.
"His brain, of course. His vision is something of an anomaly, as I'm sure SHIELD knows. It's not natural. His brain was already more open than most. That and the addition of Loki's manipulation led us to believe he was worth the risk."
"The risk?" Natasha pressed.
"We were made aware that he was an agent of SHIELD before his arrival. Originally we planned on disposing of him and moving our operations to a secondary facility." A fist to the face halted Swift's recount. He glared at her, silently asking what he'd said wrong.
"You told me you had no idea where he might have been taken." Natasha hissed. "The secondary location?"
"I was never informed as to where it was." Swift told her with a stiff look.
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Why are you so open with this information?"
"Because I'm not interested in being tortured and because I know for a fact none of this information will help you find your agent. He's either dead or is being driven insane. Once he is terminated Dr. Randle will go to ground and since you have only a vague description of what he looks like you won't ever find him. The project will live on – with or without me."
Natasha growled, but for a moment didn't speak. Although Michael Swift had given her a fair amount of information – it was true. None of it would help her locate Clint or Dr. Simon Randle. Her heart twisted for a moment before she looked down at the man. With several more powerful hits to the man's prone form she turned gracefully and walked to the door, leaving without another word.
With Dr. Randle in the wind Natasha feared she'd never find her hawk – even if she did, with the information she now had she knew the odds were against Clint. He would be different – changed.
Her eyes misted as she stormed down the hallway. The tears dried by the time she entered the observation room and stood before Director Fury and Tony Stark. Bruce and Steve were still at the tower 'on call' for anything the world sent their way. Blissfully unaware of the shit storm Clint had fallen into.
"So, this sucks." Tony broke the silence, leaning against the two-way glass casually.
"Understatement of the year." Natasha snapped at him, but her glare was fixed on Fury. "You should have never sent him on that mission."
Tony visibly stiffened at her words – even though they were directed towards someone else, he was clearly blaming himself. Rightly so. Maybe not – Natasha reminded herself quickly. It was Pepper – it was Keen. It was the circumstances but mostly it was in the past. At the moment they all needed to start focusing on the future – on bringing Clint home.
First they had to find him.
"I'm starting to believe that myself." Fury shocked her by agreeing. His eye stared at the floor for a moment before looking back at her. "What has happened can't be reversed." Fury said to both of them. "Agent Barton isn't like other people – he's come back from worse odds. Until we know for sure that he is dead – we keep looking."
"I'd like to have all the information we've gathered from Smurf headquarters without having to break into your firewall, again – if that's at all possible." Tony spoke up after a pause.
"Done." The Director nodded sharply. "We'll continue to search our way, I'll let you know if – when we find something. It'll only be a matter of time."
"Time Clint might not have." Tony pointed out darkly before pushing away from the glass. "I'm heading home. Natasha?"
She nodded, glaring one final time at Fury before leaving with the billionaire.
Clint wished he could lock himself in his room. He wanted to hide or in the very least disappear for a while. He was tired and felt so incredibly lost that he just wanted to lay down and never get back up again.
He had missed – that wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to be possible even drugged Clint had made harder shots under worse circumstances. That is – if his dreams were telling him the truth.
But they weren't the truth – not really. They were just lies created by his subconscious, if anything his 'target practice' session proved that he was just a man looking for an identity. His brain was filling in the blanks with the information he had.
The redhead was probably his wife. Tony Stark he knew from news reports and papers he'd read. The other 'Avengers' were probably gathered from the same source. Of course Clint would try and make himself out to be a hero – he was afraid of who he really was, what was better than making himself into a hero?
He felt despair as he realized he knew nothing about his history. Nothing that was real except for the names of the dead – his name as well. Clint Barton died as a result of being exposed to dangerous chemicals at work.
All that remained was a man who had lost his past and had no idea who he was anymore.
His breath was stolen when the door cracked open and Reese stepped inside. Again he wished he could lock them out – keep them all away. No matter where he went in his prison they could find him.
"Leave me be." He requested in an even tone.
Reese hesitated before closing the door behind her, "I can't do that, Clint." She whispered, coaxing the pain back through his mind. He hated her voice for doing that to him – for causing the pain so easily.
"You could if you tried harder." Clint responded coldly, glaring over at her.
She tipped her head to the side and gave him a pitying stare. "Now, Clint, we didn't cause you to miss that shot." She whispered to him, spilling more pain over and through his mind. He curled forward, gripping his head to block the fire as best he could.
"Just go." He begged quietly – he couldn't be around them now. Not when he felt so completely devastated. He needed time to work things out alone – to find something to hope for and hold onto.
"I think it would be better if you talked to someone," Reese offered more pain.
Always pain. Always the truth – or whatever passed as the truth these days.
"Talking just gives me a headache." Clint growled. He was done, so done. He just wanted her to go and give him space to figure this all out. He wanted fresh air to breathe or a Goddamned window to look out. "I just want silence. It's all pain with you and him. Just leave me the hell alone."
"I'll go, for now." Reese conceded after a long pause. "But you can't hide away forever, Clint. We're going to help you through this Clint." The man on the bed didn't look up as she left the room and shut the door behind her. He was grateful she had left.
"I can damned well try." He responded after a few minutes passed by. He wanted to hide – to escape, but there was no where for him to go.
Btw, I saw Ironman Three and it was awesome! Except for two parts I didn't like plot wise…but the rest was AMAZING! I recommend!
The next update for this story will be Thursday before I go offline for a while…it'll be hard…but I'll survive.
Reviews are always loved!
