"Hello?" Tony says into the phone. He gestures wildly to Natasha to start tracking it.
"We have your friend." A disguised voice says on the other end. "And we want one million dollars Mr. Stark. Only then will you get your friend back."
"I want proof of life." Tony says quickly.
The phone is shuffled around and the quality becomes much clearer. There is the sound of skin on skin and a grunt. Tony knows that grunt. It's Clint's. He sighs in relief. "Let him talk." Tony orders.
The phone is put up to Clint's ear. "Tony. s'at you?" Clint's voice is raspy. It makes sense, I doubt they actually fed him or kept him hydrated, they just want the money. The thing is, it's been over a week, ten days to be exact.
"We will meet you at Deans Bridge Road with your friend, bring the money and we'll exchange there. You have two hours to get here. There is a small bridge at the end of the street, we will see you there mister Stark." The line clicks.
"Dammit." Natasha grunts and fists the table. Tony whips out his phone and contacts his bank.
Natasha calls Steve so they could be backup for Tony at the bridge.
…
Tony walks up to the man standing on the bridge, Tony's holding a briefcase full of the money. Every single penny was there. He made sure.
Natasha and Steve were kidding in bushes with rifles. Watching the whole exchange through the scope. The safety was off the second a gun was pulled out and pointed towards Tony.
"Give me the money." The man says strongly. "Not until I see him." Tony replies back bravely.
A truck that no one had noticed before pulls in. Natasha gets ready to pounce, not knowing how many people were in there. The man in front of Tony runs towards the truck and opens the back. Inside were three other men. Two were carrying a limp Clint on their shoulders and the other had a second gun, held to Clint's bleeding forehead.
Tony holds his emotions in. "Is he alive?" The questions starts out shakily.
The man nods. "Yes. Now give me the money and we'll give you him." The briefcase is handed to the man and Tony gets ready. After a couple of silent seconds Tony starts thinking that they'll keep Clint and drive away. When suddenly Clint is dropped onto the ground.
"Go go go!" The men run into the truck and in thirty seconds flat they are gone. Natasha and Steve run out of the bushes and to Tony, who's kneeling over Clint.
There are gashes and scrapes all over Clint's body. His clothes are torn and bloody. His eyes are closed and his skin is pale from blood loss. And most of all, he looks pitifully thin. Through one of the rips in his shirt, the team could see his ribs. Clint's cheeks are gaunt and sunken in because he's lost a lot of muscle.
"Clint?" Steve says tentatively. With a tap on the shoulder Clint jerks awake. "G'off of me."
It's silent as everyone debates on what to say next. "Clint it's Steve." Steve says
With those words, Clint stops his struggling. His bleary eyes focus on Steve. After a couple of seconds Clint seems to believe that he's actually there. He relaxes. "Oh thank god. I th't that I wa' still there." Steve winces.
"Sorry we couldn't get there quick enough. Now, can you tell us what hurts so we can fix it?" Steve changes the subject back to Clint.
"M'leg hur's. 'n my head." Steve sets to search his leg for injury while Natasha checks his head. "Which leg?" Steve wonders.
"Left." His lips barely move and he looks ready to pass out. Natasha opens his eyes manually to check his pupils. Slightly dilated, definite concussion.
"Clint don't fall asleep." Natasha says firmly. His eyes snap open. "Sorry…" he says.
Natasha cradles his head as they stand him up. Clint hisses as his leg is jostled, putting all of his weight on the right leg. It ends with Clint standing on his right leg, his arms around Steve and Tony's shoulders and their arms around his waist.
Just like every time, they drag him back to the car that drove them here.
…
Clint was lying on a bed with his left leg in a traction, relieving pressure from his hip. His head was wrapped around with a bandage. Keeping the stitches in the back of his head clean. The IV in his wrist provided nutrients while the one in his hand provided pain reliever.
Natasha stood up silently when Clint's head moved on his pillow. Slowly lolling over, like he was trying to escape the groggy feeling. Natasha starts tapping out words onto his thigh.
It's…okay…I'm…here…wake…up." She taps this out rather than saying it because the doctors took out his hearing aids. The pristine white bandage was wrapped tightly over his ear, it would make the pressure from the metal painful.
Clint squeezes his eyes shut and groans. "T'sha?" He mumbles.
Yeah..it's…me." She taps out carefully. "You…hit…your…head…so…your…aids…are…out." Clint opens his eyes groggily and focuses on her. At least his eyes can focus. Once his eyes are open, she can start talking. He is insane at lip-reading. "Hey."
Clint smiles. "Wha' happ'ned?" He says. Slurring the words because he couldn't hear himself.
"You were taken hostage. We had to pay them a million bucks to get your back." Natasha says jokingly. Clint frowns. "M'not worth a milli'n bucks."
Natasha sighs. "I knew you'd say that. But you are. Tony didn't hesitate for one second to take that out of the bank. He was getting desperate Clint. He th-no we thought you died. "
Clint sighs. "I'm not agree'n' with ya, m'jus' too tired tah argue."
Natasha smiles, knowing the feeling. She's been there multiple times herself. "Go to bed Clint, I'll be here when you wake up." Natasha says this soothingly, lulling Clint back to sleep.
Thanks, KatieMacAlpine and PotatoCheeseCat for reviewing. My heart goes out to you guys.
In response to your comment KatieMacAlpine, I try my best to respond to everyone and make everyone happy. Thanks for noticing my efforts! I'm sorry that you were disappointed in that other author.