Wow, it has been a really long time and I apologize about that, but I was working on NaNoWriMo stories, then with school exams, life has just been crazy, and it's taken me a long time to write even short chapters. But now I'm on break, so I will post more chapters until I have to go back again. I apologize for all this craziness and I have to thank all of you for being amazing readers and patient with me.

REVIEWS

Katie MacAlpine: Maybe? We'll see! ;)

Quick note, there are scenes with drugs (not using them, but there) and some fight scenes later on. I don't know if I really need to put that, there's not going to be anything that bad, I do have some standards of my own and some lines I make that I won't cross. Nowadays you can just never tell so just putting this out there for future reference.

Alright, I hope you all enjoy, and I'll be back soon!

Clint was at second to last in the line, right in front of the girl who called herself Natalia. He was still trying to figure out how that worked himself. Dissociative disorder? No, Natasha would've told him about that. There were certain things you could keep from your partner, a few shameful past moments that didn't affect the relationship, and definitely wouldn't affect how a mission would turn out. Clint knew that Natasha was a stickler for a successful mission, and almost always said something if she believed she was incapable of completing the mission. The mission always came first, according to her.

Clint best guess was not far from reality: mind control. It had happened to him when Loki had attacked New York, and it was not something he would enjoy going through again. To wish that on another person would be beyond imaginable.

The two guards that had been permanently assigned to him jostled him painfully in his shoulder, and he barely suppressed the growl that was building up in the back of his throat. He dared a glance behind him, Natalia was walking emotionlessly forward until she looked up and met his eyes. The guards next to him yelled at him to face forward, keep walking, and hit him in between his shoulder blades with the butt of the gun. He stumbled forward, and in the midst of the madness, Clint could have sworn he saw that same emotion flash through her eyes-a hopeful sign that his Natasha could come back to him.

All the prisoners were filed out of the cell and forced to stop on the edge of the wood floor, right behind the curtains Natalia remembered walking through. Clint glanced at the lineup before him as Daniels' voice filtered out through a speaker, cracking and breaking before it smoothed out.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to what I find is the best part of the night! Besides the drinking, of course," Laughter erupted from the audience, proving the length that the alcohol was working. The line of prisoners was shuffled until they were the edge of the stage, but Clint still couldn't see Daniels, the stupid curtain was in the way. He debated making a move, overtaking the guards and grabbing Natasha and getting out of there, but the circumstance told him that it was not his best move. With the ropes binding his hands behind his back and connecting them to his waist gave him no leverage, he couldn't move his hands or arms at all. He had started working on the ropes and the knots, but whoever had tied them was skilled at tying knots, and definitely didn't want him to escape.

He was in okay shape, the pounding in his head was reduced to a dull ache after a long time of him trying to push it to the back of his mind. The graze on his cheek stung every once and a while, and it trailed down the side of his face and neck, leaving a few drops on his collarbone, but the bleeding had stopped. A cut on his temple and blood at the corner of his mouth joined the graze, and his bare torso was littered with bruises. His knee was giving him the most trouble, hot flashing pains traveling up his leg when he put pressure on it. This one was taking longer to ignore, but it would get there.

"You all know how this works, we'll present the items, my buddy George will call out bids, and buy what you see fit! Everything shown tonight is for sale!" There was a pause as the audience started clapping. "Then at the end, a never-seen-before part of the show, I personally cannot wait. So let the buying begin!"

Bright lights snapped on the stage, so bright that even from the back it made Clint blink a few times. The lights weren't really helping for his headache, so he tried to look anywhere else, while also keeping an ear open for the auction items.

In total, there were eight prisoners in the line. Six men and two girls, one of them Natasha. It was obvious that Clint and Natasha were last-minute additions, they were healthy and not dressed in the same clothes. The other men in the line wore brown trash-bag looking suits, which were very much like prison jumpsuits, and heavy work boots. The other woman wore a similar style, however, hers was green and a little more form-fitting, but still the same boots on her feet. Clint's stolen shirt had been giving to Natasha-who was just in a tank top and shorts-and his shoes had mysteriously disappeared, so he was left with dark blue security guard pants.

As they all stood there in line, men and women pushed carts with various items and paintings and other valuable things past them and onto the stage as the auctioneer called them out. When a lady pushing a cart with a black bag zipped tight on the top walked by, it immediately caught Clint's attention and he focused on it as it disappeared around the curtain.

"Here we have one of a few new items in the room, which I'm sure some of you will be excited to see," Clint heard the bag unzip and gasps broke through the audience, and he knew it was what they were looking for.

"This is it, folks. 200 pounds of cocaine, in thanks to our partnership with a few drug lords," Sparse laughter floated around the room, but many were in shock. "We will start the bid at fifteen million."

Clint needed visual confirmation that those were the drugs SHIELD had sent them after, and he needed to get the buyer. So he waited, his fist clenched at his sides, waiting for the auctioneer to give out the final bid.

"Can I get fifteen? Fifteen, thank you, how about twenty, can I get a twenty? Twenty million? Yes, thank you, ma'am, twenty million. Do I hear a twenty-five? Twenty-five? Going once for twenty, twice for twenty, Sold! Sold to the lady in the back with the red dress, thank you, ma'am."

As soon as that happened, Clint decided to fake a coughing fit, and fit sideways out of line. His guards were taken by surprise and he fell even farther, just enough out of the curtains to glance at the drugs and pinpoint their buyer. As soon as he saw them he fell to the ground for extra dramatics, and his guards roughly picked him up, pushing him back into line. As soon as he was back, all the lights mysterious went out, leaving everyone in pitch black darkness.

"Ladies and gentlemen." This time it was Daniel's' voice that broke through the speaker, and through the darkness, the line of prisoners was shuffled forward, presumably onto the stage. They were lined up side by side, their shoulders touching. Clint looked to his right, where Natasha would be trying to see her face, but even if his hands were untied and in front of his face, he wouldn't be able to see them.

"Now, for the moment you've all be waiting for..." Then, spotlights clicked on and Clint was blinded with a sudden flash of light, illuminating himself and the other captives around him. He blinked and tried to look out into the crowd, but couldn't see any through the bright light.

"Please meet your contestants for tonight's very first cage fight!"