Prompts: Going into Shock/Fetal Position/Prisoner Trade

Clint/Mikayla


Clint would never forget this day as long as he lived, which, by the look of things, wasn't going to be very long. He was in a cell, behind a locked door, with no light coming in. His hearing aids were the first casualty. His captors took them thinking they were communication devices and became irate when they found out he couldn't call anyone with them. That earned him the first of several beatings for being uncooperative. The next items to go were all of his clothes except for his underwear. He was told he wasn't worthy to wear clothes. After that, he was routinely dragged out of his cell to another room with a rusty metal chair and a meat hook hanging from the ceiling, the only items in the room. Clint could only understand them when they stood in front of him, and he could read their lips. Unfortunately, they usually talked so fast that he could only pick out a few words here and there. He caught something about a trade. If he were to guess, he'd say SHIELD or the government had something or someone this group wanted, and they were holding him hostage until they could trade for it. The door swung open, and more goons entered the cell. One of them stepped forward and stuck out his hand. Clint saw his hearing aids. "I can't put them in without my hands, you idiots." One of the other men punched him, then took out a knife and held it to Clint's throat. A third man untied Clint's hands but kept one hand in a firm grip, allowing Clint to use his other hand to put in his aids. Once they were in, it took a few seconds for him to get used to the aids again.

"We'll allow you to make one phone call. We are willing to release you in exchange for our Asset."

There it was—his life for Bucky's. Clint thought HYDRA was dead, buried, and wiped off the face of the earth. He knew where this would end. SHIELD, the Avengers, or whichever organization this group wanted to deal with did not negotiate. "No."

"No?"

"Maybe you're the one that needs the hearing aids. No, there won't be any negotiations, so you might as well kill me now because you won't be getting Barnes back."

"Is that your final answer?"

Clint couldn't believe what he was hearing. How big of idiots were these guys? "What is this? Who Wants to be a Millionaire? Yes, that's my final answer."

"As you wish." The man motioned to the other goons, who brought out electric cattle prods and attacked Clint with them, shocking him to unconsciousness. When they finished, Clint had sunk to the cement floor.

Several hours later, the goons opened the door and discovered Clint curled in a fetal position, shivering from the cold air being pumped into the room and unable to hear again as the shocks from the cattle prods had fried his aids. The goons kicked him several times, then grabbed his arms and dragged him back to the main room again. This time, however, they fastened a set of leather cuffs connected with a D-ring and hung the cuffs on the meat hook. This caused Clint to dangle from the ceiling with the tips of his toes barely touching the cement floor. By the time he was strung up, Clint was awake and had resigned himself to the fact he was going to die there. One of the goons walked to the side of the room and cranked a level, which raised and lowered the hook. Clint was lowered until he was face to face with his tormentors. The one in front of him pulled out a gag and tied it around his head, fastening it tight around Clint's head, then spun him around, put a blindfold across his eyes, and finished up by spinning him several times to disorient him.

If Clint didn't know any better, he would've thought he was in a BDSM club, but there wasn't going to be any pleasure for him, only lots of pain. Clint was the king of compartmentalization, so he focused on getting out of the situation. He knew his sight and hearing had been taken away from him, so he knew he'd have to rely on his brain. Clint knew if he could get enough momentum and pay attention to patterns, he could use his legs to take someone out by wrapping them around the person's neck. As he was visualizing how it would go, the pain of a whip lashing across his back caused him to focus on that instead. After about 30 minutes, Clint slipped back into unconsciousness, and his torso was covered in blood. Unfortunately, the torture didn't stop there. The men left, returned with bottles of rubbing alcohol, and tossed the liquid onto Clint. When the alcohol struck his body, Clint woke up, and his body rebelled against him, trying to arch away from the pain, but it was coming from all sides, so the intense agony was unavoidable. Clint couldn't control himself; tears streamed from underneath the blindfold and trailed down his cheeks. Mercifully, the torture stopped, and Clint was left swinging from the hook, his head slumped forward, and he struggled to breathe, finally passing out again.

Clint may have thought the team had forgotten about him, but that was far from it. Natasha and Mikayla were fighting with Fury about info on Clint's mission. "Nicholas Fury!" Mikayla shouted. "How could you lose my husband? Where did you get the intel from?" Mikayla went on a rampage and called Fury every name in the book. To his credit, he stood and took it. At one point, Natasha had to hold Mikayla back to keep from slapping Nick, even though Natasha thought he deserved it.

"Is that all, Barton?" Nick said calmly as he leaned against his desk.

"For now." Mikayla spun and left Fury's office.

"If we can't find him, this is on you." Natasha glared at Fury, then followed Mikayla.

Nick calmly walked around and sat behind his desk. He picked up his desk phone. "I need your help." He shared information with the person on the other end. "Find him before I have to tell his wife she's going to be a widow." Fury leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "I could use a miracle about now."

Natasha and Mikayla returned to the tower. As they stepped off the elevator, Mikayla's phone rang. "Barton."

"We have something of yours. To get it back, you'll need to return something of ours. Check your text." The call ended.

"I'm sorry, Mikayla," Friday said. "It wasn't long enough to trace."

Mikayla opened up her text and sank to the floor against the wall. "It's Clint." She dropped her phone.

Natasha bent down, picked up the phone, and looked at the text and attached video. "I'll get this to Tony. Friday? Can you send Steve and Bucky here, please?"

The two friends quickly showed up, fresh from sparring in the gym. "What's up? Any word?" Steve asked. Natasha showed the two the text.

It took everything Bucky had not to punch a hole in the wall. Was HYDRA ever going to leave him alone? "We'll get him, Mikayla. Stark will find him. We'll get him, then end HYDRA for good. Come on." Mikayla was still sitting on the floor with her knees up to her chin. She shook her head when Bucky tried to help her stand, refusing to get up from the floor. He finally resorted to picking her up and carrying her to the living room as Steve and Natasha went to Tony's lab.

"Already working on it," Tony said as the two entered his lab. "Friday gave me the number the text came from, so working my way through channels. How's Maid Marian?"

Natasha answered. "Bucky's with her in the living room. She lit into Fury, almost punched him, then got the phone notification when we got back here."

As Natasha talked, Tony and Friday were working on locating the signal from the text and phone call. Natasha's phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket and read the text. "Fury sent info about Clint's mission. Fury had been given information about remnants of HYDRA and the Red Room combining forces, so he sent Clint over to investigate and return with what he discovered. If there was hard evidence, Fury would send the team over to handle the situation."

"Does it say where Clint was sent?" Steve asked.

Natasha looked over the information again. "Germany."

At the same time, Tony's computer pinged. "Phone call came from Germany, too." Tony entered some data on his computer. "Came from a former concentration camp." He swung the monitor around to show Natasha and Steve. "There's one that's had increased electrical activity. Odds are that's where they're keeping our birdie."

"Then that's where we'll go," Steve said firmly. "Grab what you need and suit up. Stark, reach out to Thor and Banner. See if they can meet us there. Wheels up in 20." Steve and Natasha left, then stopped off to update Bucky and Mikayla. The team went to get their gear and met up on the Quinjet.

"Thor's dealing with something on Asgard. Bruce is still in India, but Doctor Cho's on her way from Columbia Medical."

"Thanks, Stark," Steve said.

Natasha left the group and went up to the cockpit, where she found Sam in the co-pilot's seat. "Surprise," he said. "Tony reached out. Misty's on her way back to be with Mikayla. That way, someone will be there when Katie and Phil return from camp."

"Still can't believe they're parents and are making it work."

"Right?" Sam agreed as he put his headset on and began flipping switches. Once they were up in the air, Natasha willed the plane to go faster. Something worked as they seemed to arrive in record time.

During the flight, they came up with the plan to go in as a group, then split up because the compound was so large. Tony and Sam would provide air coverage, while Steve, Bucky, and Nat would be on the ground.

"Guys, we've got company." Sam pointed to a large plane in a clearing near the entrance.

"Any ideas who?" Steve asked.

"SHIELD," Natasha said in a tense voice. "The Bus."

"How did we not know about this?" Tony said. "Fury holding out on us again?"

"It's part of a deep undercover group. They're like us, but without super soldiers or anyone with superpowers. Clint and I were going to be on the roster, but Fury assigned us to the Avengers Initiative instead."

"Do you know the agents?" Steve asked.

Natasha nodded. "Melinda May, a couple of new scientists, and Bobbi Morse."

"Clint's ex-wife?" Tony exclaimed. "This ought to be fun."

"They parted as friends, Tony. They're both professionals."

"Who's the lead?"

"Probably May, but I've heard rumors there's someone else but haven't been able to confirm anything."

The Quinjet landed, and a voice came over the comms. "We've got him. Come on over to the bus."

"What the hell?" Tony exclaimed. "That is not who I think it is, is it?"

"Sounds like it." The only change in Natasha's demeanor was a slight lip quiver. She was the first one off the Quinjet and marched to the other plane where the ramp was dropped. She saw Clint already on a stretcher, with Bobbi at his bedside.

"Agent Romanoff." A male figure with thinning hair wearing a three-piece suit stepped out of the darkness.

"Coulson." That was the only word Natasha muttered before she punched him.