I've been away for AWHILE. Life and work just gets in the way, you guys know how it goes. So to make up for my long absence, here's a super long update for you! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen

Clint's pulse drummed in his ears. His chest was tight, making it hard to draw a breath of the stale air in his hospital room. The hospital bed he was in was about as comfortable as lying on cold concrete and the handcuff on his good arm didn't add anything positive to the situation. A sympathetic nurse had offered him another pillow and covered him with a a second blanket, but neither of those things could overcome the combination of guilt, shame and anger that Clint was experiencing at that moment. He had gotten himself into some deep shit before, but experience wasn't giving him any comfort this time. This time he had fucked up beyond measure and two people he cared about were MIA because of it.

It had been hours since the police had found him, comatose and bleeding on the floor of the bar. Clint could only guess that an alarm had been set off or a neighbor had called after hearing the gunshots. All he knew was that they had arrived quickly and had quickly pinned him as the prime suspect for everything they saw around him. It was probably what Clint would have done if he has been in the same position so he didn't put too much blame on then for that.

They had taken care of him, he'd give them that too. It turned out that shot to the arm was a clean nick that felt worse than it actually was, but the blood loss had been enough to send him to the emergency room rather than to jail anyway. Clint got the got the feeling they didn't like that too much. Can't really grill a suspect for information when they're in the hospital for a gunshot wound. He felt that he had given them enough to keep them busy until he was well enough to play good cop bad cop though.

He told them who he was.

He told them about Anton Beck.

He told them that Brian wasn't the only one missing, Erin was too.

A detective had listened and taken notes, but Clint remembered very little of his reaction or his questions. Blood loss will do that to you…

He was desperate to hear from Natasha at that moment. When he had woken up and she hadn't been there he quickly figured out that his little plan of connecting to her on the phone while he and Brian had been trying to fight off Beck's minions hadn't been successful. And that sucked. Being wounded left him weak and that was where he usually counted on her to get him through shit, both mental and physical. He didn't realize how much he needed her until that moment. It was obvious that Erin's presence had filled that gap over the past few weeks. His anxiety ticked up ten notches as his thoughts turned back to her.

As his thoughts jumped and his anxiety rose and Clint felt his prospects sink deeper in that dark gaping hole, he heard the door open. He was surprised to see it wasn't another nurse coming in to check his vitals, instead it was a cop. He had talked to enough cops tonight and with the way he was feeling right then he didn't want to talk to another. This cop though, as he came closer definitely had a different presence about him than the others did. He was dressed like the others, perfectly put together black NYPD uniform, but he was exhausted...with more than just the situation it seemed. Clint immediately let go of his intent to greet the guy as an asshole.

"Clint Barton?" he asked.

Formality. The two cops posted outside his door and the computer screen beside him indicated that's exactly who Clint was, but deciding to be polite about it, Clint didn't give him a snarky reply. Instead he nodded his head with a plain, "Yeah."

The answer drew the cop in closer. "I'm Mike Russell. I um...well, I know Erin and Brian.

At that Clint completely lost his punk like attitude. "Sorry."

The guy didn't acknowledge the apology and why should he? It wasn't really one anyway, more of a half assed way to fill the silence. He watched as he came further into the room, stopping close enough to Clint's bed "I'm not here as a cop. We were close once, Erin and I-well, I just need to know…The statement you gave, that was everything right?"

The declaration stung Clint with a hard clarity and he took another, closer, look at the police officer in front of him. He stood about 6 feet, lean, dark hair and an olive complexion. His eyes were dark, but it was more than just their color that stuck out to Clint, it was the stark emotion that he was struggling to hide. It was the same emotion Clint could feel inside of himself and it was then that the realization hit him.

Mike Russell.

Mike.

Erin's ex-boyfriend.

He only knew the guy through Brian's words. Erin had only briefly spoken of him and at the moment Clint couldn't even remember if she had ever said his name in her presence, but Brian had. Brian had said a lot more:

"...They had been together a couple of years, but he hadn't been around for the first tour and I figured it was just one of those things, ya know? It's hard, right? You hear about military relationships busting up all the time, I thought that was what had happened. Mike was a good guy, he's from Williamsburg, he's a cop and they were good for one another, but I didn't even think her breaking up with him was anything more than just relationship shit."

Clint focused his eyes, applying the knowledge that Brian had given to the concrete body in front of him. The puzzle came together very quickly. That dark emotion was clear to him now; it was fear, the worst kind of fear. The kind that involved the unknown and someone you care about. Suddenly, too late probably, Clint remembered they had been having a conversation. He quickly reeled in his mind.

"I told them everything." He said the words though they had lost any comforting effect they might have had in those long seconds of silence that had passed. "Everything I could remember anyway."

Though he didn't look convinced, the guy nodded. His reaction left the air between them silent for a long while. The buzz of the medical equipment around them took over the empty space. It was so silent even the sounds of an active hospital were clear and distinct through the closed door. It was uncomfortable and Clint's skin prickled against the rough layer of the blanket over him. He wished he could offer the guy more. He wished he could offer himself more.

"How did they get mixed up with you, anyway?" The question came out of no where, accusing and with a subtle hostility that Clint felt right in his chest. He didn't have an answer for that. There were words to say, he knew he could fill the void the question left if he really tried, but he didn't have the strength to do that. It was gone and filled with a suffocating guilt.

With his jaw clenched, Mike Russell took in Clint's silence. Clint felt his anger amplify as the question still hung in the air, unanswered. "I guess I should just accept that's how things are going to be now huh? Aliens pouring out of the fucking sky and Tony Stark and his buddies coming in to "take care of it". I'm just supposed to get used to seeing that in the news, huh? Put my trust in you? You claim to be the good guys, so we're all expected to root for you. So what if I few thousand people died and the city looks worse than it did after the Towers fell? Who cares? You've got more damage to do, don't you? Getting innocent people caught up in your game probably gives you some kind of sick pleasure doesn't it, Barton?"

The harsh tirade delivered painful, illusory blows, but Clint knew he deserved it. The words nearly echoed what he was saying in his head. He had brought all of this to Erin and Brian's doorstep. He was the reason they were in danger. He had been too confident thinking he could have handled this without bringing them into it. He had known Beck's motives and what he had wanted prior. He could have stopped it. He could have called a number of people to get them to a safe location. Beck was capable of the worst and Clint had given him the ability to show off that fact.

He deserved Mike Russell's hate.

He deserved far worse…

The silence continued as Clint's guilt stole his words and that was enough for Mike Russell. Anger now tense throughout his body, he stood, glaring down at Clint with clear hatred in his eyes. "Fuck you, man. Fuck you and all of your friends. If anything, anything happens to Erin or Brian, I'll be coming after you personally and I'll be leaving my badge at home." He punctuated the last sentence so well, Clint didn't doubt the promise of his intent. The guy stalked from the room without another word. The door would have slammed behind him if it weren't for Natasha…and fuck his life, Nick Fury coming in directly after.

Fury being Fury, didn't miss a beat. "You're just pissing everyone off today, aren't you Agent Barton?"

"Erin…Erin…"

The voice whispering her name Erin could hear. It was familiar and somehow soothed the tension in her body, but everything else, the entire world around her, was still pitch black.

"Erin, please, please…Air Bear please, wake up, come on."

Brian.

Somehow that stupid nickname he had given her at 4 years old that likened her to an 80's cartoon character pulled Erin from the deep dark hole of unconsciousness. Her eyes opened to a room that was nearly as dark however and she immediately felt the air hit the dry membrane that veiled over her eyes, stinging and forcing her to blink back. She heard him speak again though, felt him next to her, his hands cupping her face gently, but urgently urging her to come back to him. Forcing herself, she opened her eyes once more, this time braced for the pain.

The room was still dark, but not as dark as the inside of her mind. She could make the shape of her cousin out, hovering over her as the brief triumph of waking her sparked over him. He gripped her and slung a quick kiss on her forehead. "Thank Christ." He whispered, "I was starting to think…" he shook the thought that Erin could only guess at from his mind and began to pull her up. "We need to get out of here."

Here

She lacked the strength to both form the words to the question she wanted to ask and to sit up on the hard bed she had been laying on. All she could do was trust him to both think for her and help her weak body as it accustomed itself to the movement he was forcing on her. Her hands clutched his arm even after she was sitting, refusing to let him go until she found some ground to steady herself on. Her head was spinning with confusion. She could feel the loss of time from her last conscious moment, knowing it had been more than mere minutes or hours since it had last occurred. Her mouth was parched and every joint and muscle on her body ached as if she had been thrown around like rag doll. Where was here? And why was she here?

Brian seemed to sense her confusion and had opened his mouth to speak when a sudden banging hit the outside of the closed door. It repeated over and over, an angry muffled voice on the other side demanding entrance. The sudden danger snatched the moment of possible explanation away from them and Brian instead grabbed Erin up, forcing her to feet. As both her body and eyes adjusted to movements, Brian's form became more clear and she realized he was armed. What kind of gun it was and where he had acquired it, Erin couldn't even begin to comprehend, but it was large and she knew it would give them at least a chance against whoever was trying to get in to the room.

"Stay behind me." He whispered as the sounds on the other side of the door became more forceful, predicting their impending entrance. Whether from weakness, confusion or the instinct to stay safe, Erin did as she was told without question as Brian brought the weapon up and aimed it towards the door.

It seemed only seconds later that Erin heard the heavy metal door bang open and immediate ear-piercing shots came from Brian's gun. One, two and three. The scene played out so quickly, she barely had a moment to realize what had happened before Brian grabbed her arm and was helping to step over two lifeless bodies at the entrance of the room and out into the hallway. Not one second of the scene seemed at all real to Erin. She wondered as she gripped Brian's arm, feeling her body shake, that maybe she was still passed out. Maybe this was still a dream…

In the hallway, where the light was brighter, Erin's eyes took another brutal blow. She stilled, pulling Brian back as he moved to step forward, and took a moment to rub her eyes, to try and quell the shaking, all while trying to gather her senses and not focus on the dead men at her feet. They were in a hallway that cornered them in concrete walls, void of windows with only metal fixed fluorescent lights on the ceiling keeping them out of the complete darkness of a tomb.

"Erin…"

"I know." And she did. He could see the confusion and question all over her. He could also see how weak she was, but for her she could see how important it was to forget all of that for the moment. The military had trained her well to move first and ask questions later especially when lives were on the line, but this…this wasn't real. This wasn't war, this was…

"Oh my God." In her thoughts, her gaze had moved and fallen on the form of her cousin in front of her and in her weakened state the full sight of him under the light almost hurled her back against the concrete wall. It wasn't Brian, it couldn't be…

Brian was not much taller than her. He was lean and healthy, not exactly athletic, but youth and a healthy metabolism was on his side even at 27 years old. The man that stood before her then, with Brian's voice and Brian's face, was taller, fuller and more muscular. He looked like…shit, she couldn't even think of a word to describe what he looked like. He wasn't Brian, but he was Brian. Her little cousin, who was more of a little brother than anything else…Erin's eyes began to water and in fear, she took a step back, forcing herself against the wall. Terrified of what she was seeing, scared of the impossible vision in front of her, she shook even harder and swallowed back the bile in her throat.

"It's me, I swear to God it's me." He said the words as clear and truthfully as Brian would have, but in no way did that ease Erin's fear. In fact, it made it much worse.

She shook, still taking in the sight of him and her voice wobbled as the question came, "What happened to you?"

He looked at her, his gaze full of pity and, she realized, his own fear and replied, "I don't know."

Erin looked down at herself in a fearful expectation, but her body as she could see I, remained the same that it had been.

"I don't think they did it to you." Brian's words came, lifting her gaze back up to him.

"Who?"

"I don't know that either. I woke up and…well I guess I was stronger than they I'd be. Took three of them down and went for the 4th as he was going for the phone. I saw the computer screen and saw you on it and…I knew we had to get out of here."

Erin struggled to digest the scene he had just laid before her. This was more than a nightmare. "They kidnapped me." She said suddenly, remembering what had happened in her hotel room, "I walked in the door and not a second later, they grabbed me."

He nodded. "They came to the bar a few hours after you left. Clint and I were alone and they attacked."

"Clint…", clarity came to her then. Perhaps being up on her feet and being shocked into consciousness had something to do with that, but it gutted her to think that she was only know just thinking about Clint. "Is he here too?"

"No, they just took me, but…I don't know how safe he is either."

The jarring statement made the skin on Erin's bare arms prickle. Then, from above them red lights began to flash and an ear-piercing alarm suddenly resounded around them. In fear now, but knowing better where things stood, Erin pushed herself towards Brian and held tightly to him, the objective silently realized in between them. Brian was right, they needed to get out of here.

The alarms, blazing red and bright overhead and echoing off of the hard concrete walls, followed Erin and Brian as they made their way down the hallway, lost and hoping they were heading in the direction of some kind of safety. Brian held his weapon close and Erin was sure he wasn't nearly as comfortable with it as it may have looked, but her trust was in him and as a military nurse who only held a weapon when she training, his adeptness, or lack thereof, could have fooled her. It was when sounds starting to be discerned above them, footfalls of runners and yelling, that Erin at least finally realized that they were in some kind of basement. Her intuition took apart and pieced together the clues around her though. Two inept escapees would have sounded the alarms for sure, but above them…Whatever was happening up there was something more…then they heard the gun shots. Multiple rounds echoed off the walls and floors above them and both stilled, falling into a dark corner of the hall.

Brian voiced it before she could, "That isn't for us."

Erin shook her head. "There's someone else here."

"Maybe that's good? Distracts them and we can get out?"

It could be Erin said to herself. It could also mean that they were in danger on two different fronts now. When she was in basic training, she and several others had gone through a course locked in a building, with the weapons and MOP gear, the objective to get out of the building without being shot at or getting hit with tear gas. Erin had failed miserably at it the first few times. She didn't understand why it was necessary when her job was medical, but now as she frantically tried to remember everything, she had learned from it, she regretted that. After going over it all in her mind though, the coward's way out was the only possible solution she could come up with.

"We need to hide." she told Brian after a moment, as more gunshots rained down from above them. Was it her military background saying that or her fear? There were two of them and one weapon and she doubted it had endless rounds of ammunition in it. Their best bet was to get themselves somewhere that could provide even a sliver of safety and stay there until this was over. Focus on the one enemy they knew they had and assume the worst of new guy who had just joined the fight.

At the rising sound of more gunfire, the two frantically moved, quickly making their way down the hallway and turning a corner. The turn brought them into a more open area and to both of their shocks, a grate above them replaced the ceiling. Two frantic pairs of feet ran across it, giving Erin and Brian a glimpse of the turmoil occurring above. Then another pair. Heavy, slower, lurched up behind and stopped. Erin could make out nothing that would identify the figure above her. She was plastered against the wall with Brian, hoping that whoever it was wouldn't sense them below though. Suddenly, with a swift, almost stealth like trained movement, the figure raised his weapon and fired. The machine gun fire was now clearer than ever and it took all of Erin's strength not to clutch her hands over ears. The figure then moved off the grate, his footfalls heavy and leaden talking him off in the opposite direction that she and Brian had come from. Then, without missing a beat, Brian grabbed at her and silently motioned to the dark corner to their left, amidst the alarms, the flashing lights and the execution like sounds from above she saw the staircase he indicated and nodded with his silent plan to go to it. Hiding had been her plan, but now with the knowledge that the area above them was clear, perhaps they could make it out of here?

Quickly, they ran to the staircase, Brian going first and Erin following. She held on to the metal hand rail and stayed close to her cousin, holding her breath. She didn't exhale until they had made it to the top and taken safety in another dark corner that Brian had been wise enough to pull her into. Still the noise hovered around them. More screams and more gunshots, but not even ten yards from them away was a door with the tell-tale EXIT sign still clearly lit up as a beacon to safety. The plan to hide was now completely forgotten. It was a straight shot across a large empty space, there would be no corners to hide them if someone came out, but without words she and Brian silently agreed to plan, the adrenaline and fear no doubt taking the wheel of decision making in both their minds.

Then, it all went to shit.

The man that suddenly had one arm around her neck and another with a gun at her head, came out of the darkness like he was one of the shadows. Her surprise and shock mirrored what she saw on Brian's own face as he made out what was happening. His weapon was up once the realization hit him, but it was clumsy and awkward against the specter who now held Erin's life in his hands.

"There's my Liebling." he spat in her ear. "Trying to escape? That makes me think you do not care for me much."

She couldn't see his face, but the voice was as familiar to her as Brian's. She couldn't make out any clear memories of hearing it at first. The word Liebling, German she knew, just echoed in her mind like the alarms still did in this wide empty room, but slowly it came to her. Whispered into her ear while she lay on that hospital bed, stroking her cheek, the voice had been all around her.

Another memory then, the voice's lips brushing against her skin as needles were shoved into her.

Then another with hands on her breasts, her legs pushed up…and then…Erin swallowed back the vomit in her throat, the face that belonged to the voice, gazing at her with a crazed expression from between her raised thighs…

Liebling.

Fear overtook her then. She could feel and remember the abuse he had subjected her to over the long stretches of time that she still could not count. She felt the many violations her body had been dealt at his hands and the pleasure he had taken in it. The memories all awful and terrifying were nothing compared to the knowledge that he now held her between life and death with those hands that had dealt all of those atrocities.

With tears running down her cheeks now, she looked at Brian, frozen in her panic. She didn't know what to do and she knew he didn't either. Still, he held his weapon and for whatever reason moved towards her ready to strike her assailant.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast." The voice said. "You may have overpowered my men, but I made you and I know how to unmake you." He emphasized the point by pressing the barrel of the gun harder into Erin's temple. "Put the gun down."

Brian did as he was told. That one chance that they had had just moments before, ended at the clatter of his gun on the floor. Erin could hear her own whimpers echo the sound. Brian stood before her, helpless and pained.

"Little fools, both of you." The voice said, his accent so strong in Erin's ear, "All that I did for you, all to make you better and more worthy of your blood." His focus then seem to center on Brian. "Do you not know what you are capable of, Brian Sutton? My Lord Loki picked you out of all of beings in the universe to take down The Soldier. You have the blood in you of a warrior, whose strength has only grown over time." Brian, jaw clenched, said nothing. Erin wondered if the words were as confusing to him as they were to her. "I saw it all in you. Even after the defeat I knew there was still a chance to kill The Soldier and to pay SHIELD back for everything that had done to me."

Brian looked at Erin. The gaze that moved back and forth between them said unspoken words. Loki, SHIELD, The Soldier…Captain America…it was all tied to Clint. They gathered it all up and came to the conclusion in silence together that bespoke their years of closeness. This was all meant to happen from the very moment Clint came into their lives. Not for a moment did Erin believe Clint had known that though. Both she and Brian had witnessed the mind control effects Clint had still suffered through, both had come to know him too well to think that he had ever had any evil intent with them. The fact that this was so far above them, that they were such tiny players in such a big game seemed to hit them both at the same time. Brian's altered body was evidence enough to show them how pawn-like they were in the scheme. There was only going to be one way out of this and with silent communication, they both agreed on that fact.

Brian snapped towards his gun on the floor like a bolt of lightning. To Erin his movement was less than a blink of her eye. The voice's arms trembled at the sudden movement. He hadn't been expecting that and that's exactly what she and Brian had counted on. Erin elbowed him in the stomach, felt him release her, turned fast and began to run to the safety of the stairs, when there was yelling…sudden yelling. Someone had come up on them. A shot was fired just as Erin's head snapped back to the scene. The shooter had been standing in the corner out of sight and behind the man that had been holding Erin and he had done exactly what he had been there to do, protect the man holding Erin no matter how the exchange had gone. The evidence was right in front of her now. Brian was on the floor, a single bullet hole in his head.

A scream tore from Erin's throat that was inhuman. She ran back to Brian, clutching at him, slapping him, yelling at him, screaming at him, crying sudden harsh tears and demanding to go back in time just a few seconds. JUST A FEW!

"Brian! OH GOD! PLEASE NO! PLEASE!" she gathered him in her arms, feeling how lifeless he was and the wave of realization hit her anew. "NO!" she screamed harder. The two men came at her as she tried desperately to hold on to him. Fear and grief had her throwing her first and slapping her way out of their grasps, knowing she wouldn't win, but vowing not to go down with a fight.

Then more gun fire.

Erin's screams.

Men's screams.

And another shower of bullets.

The men, mowed down beside her, fell on Brian, blood spurting forth from their wounds. Erin screamed again and reeled back on her hands, seeing the large, black clad man that she had seen from the grate just mere minutes ago. He came towards her, large and looming, a terrifying specter all on his own. Long shaggy dark hair covered his eyes, and every other part of his face covered in a black mask. The gun he had used to kill the two men was still dangling from his arm, ready and waiting for its next victim.

Erin moved farther away, her hands giving out after only a few more feet and causing her to fall to the floor. Her breaths were heavy and the tears still ran down her cheeks as she looked up at him, ready for him to kill her. She had nothing to say, no screams left in her throat…she simply, at that moment, gave up.

The masked man, however, froze. His eyes, dark brown, so much like Brian's that it almost stopped her heart, ran over Erin. Silently they stared at one another for a long moment, perhaps even minutes, Erin couldn't be sure. Among the death and carnage around them, something unspoken passed between them and Erin could feel the tension in the room change, despite everything that had just happened.

"Connie?"

He said the name like it meant something more than just what it was. There was emotion in his voice, that didn't match the dangerous stranger in front of her. He said the name as if it came from his heart. Connie…not her name…but her grandmother's name. Erin went to speak, she remembered opening her mouth, perhaps in question, perhaps to make the connection to her grandmother, she couldn't remember. She didn't have a chance to even get a sound out before the stranger's hand came around her neck and everything went black.