A/N: Hello lovelies. This story is a rewriting to a previous story I had, "Time's Up", AND the sequel I'd started for it. Instead, I'm just going to redo the whole thing, as its many years old. So if you don't want to wait for updates, the original story is always available, though it will end up slightly different than this one, just so we're clear. Enjoy. -E

Bzzzzz!

Clint Barton stirred slightly in his sleep, rolling onto his side.

Bzzzzz!

Groaning softly, his brows furrowed as he slowly came into consciousness, the dull light of his cell phone shining in front of his face. Opening his eyes, he immediately squinted before shutting them again, eyes stinging from the sudden light. Stubbornly ignoring the message alerts on the screen, he rolled back onto his other side, facing away from the phone. Oblivious to the space in front of him being empty, he tried to drift back to sleep.

Bzz-Bzzzz! Bzzzz! Bzzzz!

Someone was calling him. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he sat up in bed, glancing over at the pale red light of his alarm clock. It was 3:45 in the morning. 'Someone better be dying,' he thought bitterly to himself before reaching over to pick up the phone. His heart sank.

"Tasha?" Slowly coming out of his grogginess, he suddenly became all-too aware of the empty space beside him. "Tash, where are you?" Swinging his feet over the bed, he pressed the phone hard against his ear.

Static. Quickly fumbling around in the dark, he clicked his bedside light on and snatched up his hearing aids, putting them in. More static.

"Tasha?" Standing, he didn't notice the chill of the floorboards underneath his feet as he went for the door, phone still pressed to his ear. He stopped in his tracks and held his breath as he heard what sounded like nothing more than distant whispers on the other line. As though someone were whispering through an echoing auditorium. Holding the phone awkwardly in one hand, he used the other to maneuver his hearing aids to the highest setting, hoping he would be able to make out what the whispers were saying. Unmoving, so as to not make any noise, he listened.

"Clint!" Natasha's voice came through as a whisper, clear and firm as the static immediately ceased. Jumping, and nearly dropping his phone, he returned it to his ear.

"Tasha?!" His voice only a little louder than a whisper himself, just in case she was in danger, which he had high suspicions that she was. The static returned, only this time with Natasha's voice cutting through it.

"I don't-somewhere still in the tower-B-7-like a closet-something out there, like a monster-not a lot of time-"

"...Natassssshhhhha…." A low, dark voice interrupted her.

The static cut, the phone going silent. Heart racing, he looked at the screen. The call had ended.

"What the fuck?" He whispered to himself, thumb moving frantically, hovering over the screen while he tried to decide what to do. Opening his contacts, he called Natasha's phone again. Holding it up to his ear, it rang for a moment before beeping at him a few times, signalling the call had been ignored. "Shit."

If she was in trouble, she might not be able to answer the phone. She might've been hiding, needing to stay as quiet as possible. He prayed that he didn't just give away her location. From what he could gather, she was still somewhere in the Avengers tower- in a closet? Dialing a new number, he held the phone to his ear again, listening to it ring for what seemed like hours.

"Barton, what do you want," Tony Stark's voice had a hint of impatience to it, and he could tell that he was on speakerphone. "Kind of in the middle of something important, here!" Clint could hear the bright sounds of a video game coming from the background, the light clicks of controllers mixed among them.

"Stark, I need the security footage from the past couple hours," he informed him as he grabbed a sweater and slipped on a pair of shoes. Jogging back to the door, he opened it and stepped outside into a large hallway, dozens of doors lining the walls, all identical to his. Some with light decorations on them, others plain, he walked past them quickly. The air in the hallway was cooler than he expected, and he was immediately glad that he thought to grab his sweater, almost regretting that he didn't take Natasha's for her as well.

"Oooh, wanting to make a 'homemade video', are we? You dirty-"

"Natasha's missing." Clint cut him off irritably, not caring for Tony's teasing. A small 'What?' could be heard from somewhere next to Tony as the sounds from the game stalled. "Security wing. Now. Finish your game later. Bring Bruce, too, if he wants to come." There was a pause, the line quiet.

"Yeah, we'll be there in a minute." A series of beeps signalled Clint that the call had ended and he glanced at his lock screen as he sped down the hall. The image of him and Natasha sharing their first kiss as a newlywed couple tugged at his heart as he opened his message notifications.

[3:38 am, Nat] Idk where. Head throbbing. Dark n cold. Small closet I think. No way out from what I can tell. Knob locked. Light from under the door. Footsteps. .

[3:38 am, Nat] It's april 1. Is this some sick joke

[3:40 am, Nat] clint wkae up

[3:40 am, Nat] oh god clint wake up

[3:40 am, Nat] Idk what it is but all i smell is blood

[3:41 am, Nat] It opened the door and i saw on the wall b7 im still in the tower

[3:44 am, Nat] Clint its

[3:44 am, Nat] Coming pelase

[3:45 am, Nat] Help p

Trying to swallow down the lump forming in his already too-dry throat, he rounded the corner, stopping at a plain door. Knocking loudly a few times, he took a step back and began absentmindedly tapping his foot impatiently. After a few moments, a confused looking Steve Rogers opened the door, toothbrush in hand.

"Clint?" Looking down at Clint's pajamas, his eyebrows furrowed more in confusion. "What's up?"

"Tasha's trouble," he rushed out breathlessly before stopping to blink. "I- Tasha's IN trouble. We gotta go!" Pushing past Steve he grabbed a pair of shoes and practically threw them at Steve, who easily caught them.

"What kind of trouble?" Steve had set down his toothbrush carefully on a small table he had near the door so it wouldn't get dirty before pulling his shoes on. Already dressed in a t-shirt and shorts to go on his usual 4 am jog, he wasn't really used to having to deal with people so early in the morning anymore.

"Don't know! Meeting Tony in security!" Clint almost went to push Steve out the door until he realized how useless that would've been and moved around him again, once again speed-walking down the hall. Shutting the door behind himself, Steve jogged lightly to catch up.

"'Tony in security', or Tony, in security?"
"What- Oh. My god. Stark. Meeting Stark so we can look at the security footage."
"Gotcha!" The pair made their way quickly and quietly down the seemingly endless hallway and down a few flights of stairs before practically flattening Tony and Bruce just outside the stairwell doors.

"Clint! What's going on?" Bruce asked immediately, jumping back so as he wouldn't be knocked over.

"That's what we're here to find out," Clint replied irritably before grimacing slightly. "Sorry. I don't know. I'm just worried."

"So you think something happened in the tower?" Tony questioned as the group made their way into one of the control rooms. The walls of the room were filled with screens, a large desk stretching the length of three of the four walls, covered in keyboards, mice and different computers. Taking a seat, he began fiddling with one of the devices. "About what time, do you think?"
"She called me. I couldn't make out most of it, but it seems like she's still somewhere in the tower, but she's not alone. Um, around 3-3:30." Sitting back in the chair, Tony looked up at Clint.

"Still in the tower…? Barton, are you sure that she's not just-"

"Please," Clint interrupted quickly, his tone pleading. "Just do it."

"We ought to hear him out," Steve interjected, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest.

"He's, uh. I mean he's not really one to get so riled up by nothing," Bruce shrugged nervously, glancing between everyone. Hesitating a moment, Tony nodded and turned back to the screens.

"Alright," typing in the sector and time into one of the keyboards, he nodded again. Clearly still unsure, he complied anyway. "Yeah, we'll check it out."

"Thank you."

Sitting back again, the group looked up at one of the larger screens as it played footage from Clint and Tasha's room at 3 in the morning, just 56 minutes earlier. The room obviously dark, the camera had been switched to 'night mode', and everything had a green tinge to it. The camera had been sped up very slightly, to make it go by faster. 3:10, nothing had moved. Soon 3:15 had passed, and still, both Clint and Natasha were asleep in bed. Several small inhales and gasped escaped their mouths as at 3:26 a large, dark figure walked out from the shadows in the corner of the room.

Clint suddenly felt cold, chills running down his spine being an understatement. His heart ready to burst out from his chest, his eyes were glued to the large figure. Who was that? How did they get in?! Feeling sick at the thought of this person being in his room and so close to him, he placed a hand over his mouth silently. All of their eyes trained on the screen, they watched as the large figure- too big to feasibly be human- stalk over to the bed and scoop a still-sleeping Natasha into what looked like large dark claws. The footage cut to static.

"What!?" Clint exclaimed quickly, wanting to reach out and slam the screen, as if that would get it to work again.
"I'm-" clearly alarmed, Tony frantically typed into the keyboard. "-trying!"

"Who was that?! What was that?!" Bruce tore his eyes from the screen to look at Steve, his own eyes round, mouth hung open slightly.

"I'm…" Steve's voice was cut off by the static ending. The screen showed the time at 3:40, both Natasha and the figure gone, leaving Clint alone in his bed.

"Where did she say she was?" Tony asked nervously, trying over and over to replay the footage to see if he could get the times between 3:36 and 3:40, only getting static each time he did.

"I- Um," fumbling with the phone still in his hand, Clint unlocked the screen and looked at the messages still open. "A closet? B-7." Stopping, Tony slowly leaned back and looked up at Clint, clearly startled.

"B….B-7?"

"Yeah. That's what she wrote."

"Clint," Bruce leaned forwards slightly, his eyebrows bowed. "There is no B-7."

"Look, that's what she said, okay? B-7." Clint's eyes narrowed slightly as he fumbled in his pocket quickly for his phone.

"And I'm telling you that's not possible," Tony argued. "She must've misread it."
"Like the signs aren't in big letters or something…" Steve pointed out quietly, crossing his arms. Clint's heart began to race again as his eyes scanned the text messages from not even an hour ago.

"It opened the door, and I saw on the wall 'B-7', I'm still in the tower." Clint stated, his voice as firm as he could manage as his gaze flicked up to Tony and Bruce.

"Is there anything that could've looked like it said B-7? Maybe G-7?" Bruce asked, looking between the three standing around the room.

"G-7- Why would I need a seven story garage, Bruce?"

"I'm just saying," Bruce's eyebrows furrowed as he stood up more. "She could've misread it in a panic."
"I don't think there's anything even slightly similar to the letter B anywhere in this tower," Tony scowled as he looked back towards the screen.

"Y'know what…" Steve started, pressing his lips together once before wetting them slightly. "I don't mean to be insensitive or anything, but… What if this is all a joke?"
"Excuse me?" Clint demanded, rounding on Steve, already ready to start throwing punches, full well knowing he'd lose.

"Well," taking a step back, Steve wet his lips again. "I mean, it is April first, and Tasha is known to have a … a dark sense of humor."

"That's… I mean you aren't wrong," Bruce agreed, rubbing under his nose briefly with the back of his hand as if satisfying an itch.

"And if it's not?" Clint demanded, eyes narrowed at both of them. "You'd both just give up at the chance that it's a joke? You'd both let her die?"

"Woah, okay, hang on now here," Steve put up both of his hands defensively.

"We weren't saying that, we just-"

"I mean she's a big girl, she can more than take care of herself."

"So if it wasn't, she wouldn't just die. But if it was-"
"She wouldn't pull this kind of shit. Not like this. And not without me involved at the very least." Sighing heavily at the three men's arguing and for once opting to stay out of it, Tony turned his attention back to his screens.

"Hey, Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"How about we do a full-tower scan of all the people-err- life forms in the tower? Find Natasha Barton and any possible intruders." Raising his eyebrows towards the others.

"Right away, sir."

"There. Happy?"

"...I wouldn't say happy…" Barton muttered quietly as he looked across the screens as they flashed different rooms and levels of the tower, showing different people in them, most of them still asleep.

"It would appear, sir, that Natasha Barton is in the basement of the tower, along with a-" A sudden loud electrical surge coursed through the building as its power failed.

"Shit." Clint spoke, his voice seeming impossibly loud in the newfound silence of the darkened room.

"Welllll, the uh, good news is is that the backup generators should be-" a single red light popped into existence just above the door, illuminating the room dully. "Kicking in right about now…" Tony's voice faltered and Bruce took the opportunity to finish his thought.

"The bad news is that Tony decided it was 'never going to be needed anyway' and didn't have the generators do much more than light up the building. And the lights aren't even installed everywhere. So half the tower is basically still in darkness until the power comes back on." Bruce crossed his arms as he glared over at Tony who smiled sheepishly back at him.

"Every problem presents an opportunity to learn?" Tony's grin quickly turned into a grimace as he ducked out of the way from a flying projectile coming from Clint's general direction. "Okay! Okay. I'm sorry. I was being cheap. Now I know it can be an issue, I'll fix it."

"Because this just makes the whole situation loads better," Steve sighed, pulling his fingers through his hair once, glancing around at everyone's faces bathed in the red light.

"Speaking of fixing, though, I should probably head down and see what I can do to get power again," Tony stood at almost the exact moment his phone started blaring AC/DC's Hell's Bells. Blinking once, he fished the phone out of his pocket. 'Point Break'.

"Thor?" Putting the phone to his ear, he glanced around at the others before turning slightly. "Yeah, I know, I was just about to head down to get it back on…"

"Alright, we need a plan of attack," Steve looked between Bruce and Steve. "If Natasha's really in trouble, which we have to treat the situation as though she is…"

"Thank you," Clint pressed his lips together.

"-might be something running loose in the tower-"

"So we should go in pairs, to stay safe but still cover some ground. Tony's already going to be going down to maintenance to work on getting us power again, Bruce, I'm assuming you'll be going with him?"

"-Yeah, Romanoff might be in trouble-"

"That's probably where I'd be the most help," Bruce pressed his lips together and nodded once.

"-Oh okay, great. Yeah, just meet up with Steve at uh," lowering the phone slightly, Tony looked over at Steve expectantly. "Hey, Rogers, where're you gonna be headed?"

"Well if we have Thor, too… One of us should go back and check the apartment to see if there's anything that'll tip us off to where Natasha went. The other two should start checking the basement floors to see if they can find her- and whatever that thing that took her was."

"I-" stopping himself short, Clint looked quickly between Steve and Tony. "The power is out. How are we supposed to get back into the electronically locked apartment door?" Pausing to think, Tony lifted the phone back to his ear.

"Alright, big guy, you're going to head over to Barton's apartment and break the door open."
"What?!"

"Oh, calm down, I'll fix it," Tony snapped back at Clint before continuing his instruction to Thor. "Once in there, look around for any, uh, other unrelated signs of break-in. See if you can find any proof of someone or something else in that apartment and then give me or Steve a call back. Yup. Alright. Talk to you soon, buddy." Hanging up the phone, Tony looked at the group. "Let's get going then!"

"Bruce is going with you," Steve informed Tony as he moved to the exit. Stopping short, Tony stared at the door.

"We, uh. Have another problem," glancing back before going to the control panel next to the door, he tried making it work before looking around the door. There was no handle.

"Alright, now that's just stupid," Clint complained loudly. "What kind of moron designs a building without doorknobs?! Power-outages are a thing, Tony, for you to be so arrogant-"

"Clint!" Bruce interrupted, standing in front of him, his hands out slightly to block Clint in case he tried going for Tony. "There was a handle."

"What?" Steve stepped forwards to inspect the door suspiciously. "Was there?"

"Of course there was," Bruce turned his head to look over at Steve. Pushing past him, Clint went to the door and gestured towards it.

"No there wasn't. There isn't even a fucking spot or hole for where it would've been. It's completely clean." There was a short pause, the air suddenly feeling more heavy than before.

"Exactly," Tony finally broke through the quiet, his voice somber as he stood up straight from where he was trying to get inside the controls. "So where is it? And how the hell do we get out?" Without hesitating, Clint braced himself and ran at the door and rammed his shoulder into it as hard as he could. Wincing and grabbing his shoulder, he tried kicking the door several times instead. "Barton!" Steve quickly held Clint back from the door, afraid he would injure himself further. "Barton, I made these doors so they specifically couldn't be opened like that…" Tony insisted, scratching his head, spinning on his heel to look at what they had available to them in the room.

"Then what would you suggest?!" Clint spat out, prying himself away from Steve's arms in a angry huff.

"Look, getting mad isn't going to solve anythi-" Bruce tried, only to be interrupted by Clint.

"Oh, that's real rich, coming from you, Banner," Clint glared, then stopped, his eyebrows furrowing. "Wait, why don't you just turn into the big guy and break down the door?" All eyes slowly turned to Bruce as he cowered back slightly.

"I, uh," Bruce stammered, wetting his lips with his tongue briefly while looking between the three of them.

"Admittedly, that would kind of solve the problem, here…" Steve made a face as he looked around the room before settling on Bruce. "And probably solve some more problems in a bit, here…"

"It-it.. It's not that I don't want to help, I just. I mean, I don't-"

Shhhhhk!

Bruce froze for a moment before slowly turning around to face an open doorway, the door having somehow slid back into place. The men stood silently, barely daring to breathe as they listened to the world around them. The air was heavy, the empty hallway dark and long, with one single red light shining dimly about 50 feet from the room.

After a long pause, as if deciding (or perhaps hoping) the door somehow opened by itself and there was nothing in the hall, Bruce whispered loud enough for the others to hear, his eyes not moving from the doorway in front of him.

"All in favor of staying here and not moving a muscle until daytime?"

Another pause. Eventually Steve stepped forwards, his eyes also trained on the dark hallway.

"We aren't going to get anywhere staying put," looking at Bruce, he faced the other two. "Natasha is still missing. Something clearly isn't right here, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

"I'm going, too," Clint quickly rushed forwards towards Steve and the door. "I need to find her."

"Besides," Steve turned to Bruce again, raising his eyebrows. "This hallway? It doesn't matter if it's daytime or nighttime. As long as the power is out, it's staying dark. No windows." Bruce gulped as Tony also stepped forwards.

"I'll head down to check out the generators and power supply. See if I can't get us power to sort through this shit." Tony's eyebrows were furrowed as he squinted in the darkness, trying to examine what he could see of the door, still slid in it's compartment. Walking quickly over to a small cabinet under one of the desks in the room, he rifled through it quickly. "Bruce?" He looked over at Bruce as he still stood frozen in place, staring down the hall.

"You'll… You'll probably need my help…" Bruce said, almost as if trying to convince himself that he should go with.

"Yes, I will," Tony stood and walked over to the three, holding two flashlights. Holding one out to Steve and Clint, he didn't care who took it. Clint reached out and grabbed it, turning on the bright beam and pointing it into the hallway. "Here." Handing the second flashlight to Bruce, he turned back to Clint and Steve. "Does at least one of you have a charged phone on you?"

"I do," Clint put his hand over his pocket to feel the outline of his phone in it, still looking down the hallway.

"I do, too," Steve pulled his out and turned the screen on. "Battery is at 98%."

"Good. Alright. We'll split up, do our shit. Anything happens, call me." Nodding, Steve put his phone back in his pocket and looked at Clint.

"Let's go." Without hesitating, Clint practically bolted out of the room, Steve following on his heels.