Thanks for the reviews and follows! Here is Chapter 2!
WARNING: Torture, Seizure
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Tony's voice was dangerously low as he spoke to the flight team that had been transporting Barton back to the compound for the mission. "You better fix that reply before I come fix it for you." His voice rose into a angry shout as he threatened the person on the other end of the phone. His eyes had a fire in them that many had never seen before. This woman had taken one of his closest friends and teammates and fire was going to rain down on her once Tony found her.
"Tony." Steve's voice was quiet and pacifying, the one word conveying his message of calm down, keep your cool, and take a deep breath. He held his hands out in front of him placatingly, trying to calm Tony. Steve was just as much of a nervous wreck as Tony about the missing Avenger, but he had to keep his head on straight as the leader of the group. Wanda was still inconsolable and had been taken to her room by Vision to settle down for a few minutes.
"They haven't seen him. They said they touched down and he got into the car and they have no idea who was driving because they didn't even care to look and now-" Tony's heated reply drifted off as he gestured angrily to the air. There was supposed to be safety protocols in place. Clint was more than capable of defending himself but there were nasty people who were always out to kill the Avengers, so they were always cautious.
They had been back at the compound for twenty minutes and no progress had been made on the location of Clint. All they knew is that this person, Agrafena Preobrazhensky, who they had not heard of before today, had not only known that they were coming and vanished, but had taken one of their own. She had hurt Clint, made him bleed, and everyone in that room was itching to make her pay. The look on Natasha's face made Bruce's stomach queasy. He thought he would rather jump off a bridge than ever be on the receiving end of that look.
"Do we have any leads?" Sam asked as he looked at the interactive maps that were spread out in front of them. Every time he blinked, he saw Clint's bloody face staring back at him, begging Sam to find him. He kept glancing back to the clock, knowing that every passing second was more torture that Clint suffered.
"We should dive even deeper into the people that she got the items from and try to get a handle on who is working for her. Also, what types of codes does she want?" Rhodey stepped forward. His arms were crossed across his chest and he had heavy worry lines on his forehead. Years of military training reminded him how serious a situation like this was. Kidnapping and hostages made people desperate.
"I'm guessing she wants one of my um old designs." Stark looked miserable as he thought about it. There were top-secret codes that protected those types of designs, his old bomb and weapon making designs, but the six Avengers had access to them. Stark would never allow them to be used for bad again, but they were kept around as a precautionary measure such as if someone had ever created a weapon like them, his designs might be able to take theirs apart. The thought hadn't really crossed his head before, that someone would think those codes were worth kidnapping an Avenger over. There were so many different weapons plans out there and Stark's were no longer on the market.
"Have we had any luck on locating the car that Clint was taken in?" Steve asked as the footage of Clint getting into the back of the black car and driving off replayed over and over again on one of the screens. There was no struggle. Clint had gotten in, unaware and unassuming of any danger, and now, he was gone.
Clint would say that his body hurt but that would be the understatement of the century. His hands had long gone numb but somehow it still felt like needles were stabbing every inch of them. Blood ran down his arms from where his wrists had been rubbed past being raw. The rough rope's fibers had wormed into his skin, ripping open cuts all around. He was a tiny bit grateful that he was not fully hanging from his arms and his feet were on the ground. Clint felt the blood dripping from his nose, mouth, and from the open cuts over his eyes after the second beating the woman had given him. He wasn't sure if his left eye socket was broken, but the pain radiating from that side made him suspicious. The eye was swollen completely shut so he was only seeing out of his right eye at the moment. He could only imagine what his face must look like. Natasha would have some smartass remark about that once she got here. His ribcage and stomach area were on fire. He hadn't heard any cracks from his ribs, so he was assuming just some bruises, but it didn't mean they weren't excruciatingly painful. The woman had taken special care to jab her elbow into the spaces between his ribs, increasing the amount of pain they caused. Laura was going to kill him once he got home when she saw just how bad this was. There would be no hiding how badly the bruises had blossomed out from the points of contact. Clint moaned to himself as he forced himself to take a deeper breath, trying to gauge how bad his ribs were but taking anything beyond a small gasp was too painful to try again. He was more than ready to be off of this rope and in a bed for a little rest and recovery. While he had been trained extensively to withstand torture, it wasn't a pastime that he enjoyed, and he wanted to be anywhere else but here.
"I want an answer." The woman's voice made Clint flinch before he steeled himself. He hadn't even realized he was drifting off. "Just give me the codes and we'll get you down from there." Clint smirked at her naivety. This woman was insane if she thought she'd ever get any information from him.
"You can kiss my ass." Clint snarled back. He would never give up those codes. It didn't matter what she did to him. He just had to hang on long enough for the remaining Avengers to find him and rescue him. Once he was no longer strung up, he had plans for what he was going to do to her that included making her bleed and beg for mercy.
"I can do many things to that ass." She stepped forward, squeezing Clint's ass with her hand, grabbing his hair with the other, forcing him to look her in the eyes. Clint suppressed a shudder. He was no stranger to the lengths that someone would go in torture. He really hoped that he wasn't here long enough to find out all of the types of things she enjoyed. "You will give me those codes." He knew that she was going to make his life hell until the others got here. "Since you don't seem to want to listen to me, I've brought in my second hand, Anatoly." Clint heard heavy footsteps coming closer to him. He wanted to turn his head to look at the person approaching him from behind, but he knew better. That would be giving them the reaction that they wanted. "You'll be begging for me before you know it." Her voice made an involuntary chill race down Clint's spine. Clint Barton was not a beggar. He would not beg.
"They've located the car!" Sam couldn't stop the happiness in his voice. They had been running software for the better part of two hours now. There was a growing desperation filling the room. There had been very little for the team to go off of. They had a tentative timeline that left about seventeen hours total unaccounted for including the mission. The perks of using Quinjets meant that international travel was much quicker. The time started from when Clint got into the car and went until the current time. There was a timer in the corner of one screen, counting the hours and minutes.
"Where is it?" Steve asked quickly, grabbing the shield and attaching it to his back. He didn't want to go anywhere without being prepared for a battle. Wanda leapt to her feet, ready to go wherever Sam said the car was. She had rejoined the group after about thirty minutes, her eyes puffy and pink.
"It, it looks like it's near a private airstrip." Sam's brow furrowed, knowing that if she had gotten Clint on a plane, their search radius just broadened immensely. After this much time had passed, Clint could literally be anywhere in the world and that meant finding him would be that much harder. "It's not too far." He had the address transferred to his phone while Steve gave out orders. They had already set in place that no one went anywhere alone outside of the compound until the kidnappers were brought in. They had gotten Clint without a fight and that meant they were dangerous and should not be underestimated.
"Sam, Wanda, Natasha, and I will go to the scene. Tony, Rhodey, Bruce, and Vision, stay here and try to see if we can come up with any other leads." Everyone simply nodded that they understood. They didn't waste any time heading to the garage. The car ride to the scene was silent.
"Here." Natasha pointed to the black car that she recognized from the video that she had watched until it was burned into her memory. She slid a device from her pocket and picked the front door lock. She pressed the unlock button so that they could look in the back seats. She noted the divide was up between the front and back. The front was completely wiped clean, but the forensic team would go over it with a finetooth comb. She heard one of the others swear and she came around the door to look in the back when the smell hit her. A sickly, sweet smell that reminded her of rum oozed out from the interior of the back that she recognized immediately, chloroform.
"Let's begin. I want to hear you scream." Anatoly's voice was laced with a thick Russian accent as he cracked his knuckles before slipping his hand into his pocket. Clint gulped at the sight of brass knuckles emerging from his pocket. Not that there were any torture methods that were his favorite, but brass knuckles were towards the bottom of the list. He swung, connecting with Clint's unprotected side. Pain exploded out from the spot where the brass knuckles hit. Clint grunted once before gritting his teeth together. He would not give Anatoly the pleasure of screaming.
"Harder." The woman egged Anatoly on from where she stood off to the side. Clint realized belatedly that he didn't even know her name. It didn't really matter, but she had never said who she was. All Clint knew is that she wanted codes from him, codes that he could never give her. Anatoly nodded curtly before winding his fist up again. This time he connected with Clint's solar plexus. Every bit of air in Clint's lungs fled, as he felt his chest spasming frantically. Pain spread across his stomach violently. God damn, it really hurt. He gasped and wheezed as his lungs fluttered, unable to get any air in his lungs when Anatoly drew back again and slammed into that same spot, blood erupting as the brass knuckles split open wounds on his stomach. Clint bit down on his lip to stop an agonized shout. His stomach was in anguish from the two brutal hits, causing him to break out in a sweat. The force of the hits had made him sway backwards, causing the wounds on his wrists to chafe further, and more blood slid down his arms. Vomit rose up in his throat, but he swallowed it back down.
"You will save yourself a lot of pain by just giving us the codes." Anatoly sneered at Clint. The next hit came in the same spot. Clint couldn't stop the moan as he saw stars. His eyes rolled back momentarily from the pain. He gasped for air, desperately trying to fill his lungs. His toes curled under as he fought to get control of his body back. "It is going to be fun to break you." Anatoly's voice was full of venom as he took in bloody and beaten Avenger. It would be a lifetime achievement to be known for breaking Hawkeye. He had so many things planned and once he was done with him, Clint would do anything he asked.
"Better men than you have tried to break me." Clint quipped back in a snarky tone. He had survived an abusive father, his circus training, and Loki, Anatoly wouldn't be the person who broke him. He was stronger than them and he just kept reminding himself that the other Avengers would be coming for him soon. Enough time had passed that they knew he was missing and they had to be searching for him.
"Famous last words." A sick smile spread across Anatoly's face. Clint knew that more pain was about to come his way. Anatoly stepped closer before jamming his fist into Clint's solar plexus for the fourth time. The pain overwhelmed Clint's brain, sending pain signals shooting out to every nerve ending in his body. There weren't words that began to describe how badly everything hurt. There was not a centimeter on Clint's body that wasn't in agony. Clint's eyes rolled up again as he felt his limbs starting to shake, trying to accommodate the pain response. His nervous system was so flooded by pain responses, he wasn't sure what way was up and down anymore. It suddenly occurred to him that he was about to start having a seizure when an involuntary strangled moan was ripped from his throat and the pain shut his body down as he started convulsing.