Chapter 5! Halfway through! On a bit of a roll now lads!
Natasha views now! Will be switching a fair but in this story, I think. So I'll let y'all know here what view it's in!
Reviewers!
Niom Lamboise; You always seem to read my mind.. I swear you have a camera in my room or something.. Not the whole chapter in her POV, but kind of from where they split up in the mission! I hope you enjoy!
Enjoy! And review, let me know what to do and I'll try change the chapters to suit! :)
Disclaimer; Still own absolutely nothing to do with Marvel, stop asking you lawyer type people!
She was NOT able for this sort of stuff anymore! Like really! She was getting way too on in her years to deal with this!
After leaving the hotel, the guy, who simply gave a name of Adam to her, hailed down a taxi and she gave the address of the hotel. He was a little handsy even in the back of the cab, but she kept playing drunk defenceless, up for fun, giggly lady.
Really, she wanted to smack his hands clean off his body.
She had a mission, she had to play the part.
When they got to the hotel, she told him she just had to grab something from her car. So he followed her around, which was perfect, because that's what she was planning on! Opening back the door, she acted like she couldn't reach whatever she was trying to get.
Being the gentleman he was, or the horny man who wanted his ride sooner rather than later, he offered to get it for her. When he was leaning over the back seats, she grabbed the little syringe of tranquilliser from her clutch purse and shot it right into his back. Closest place she could reach, and she really didn't want to lean over the man to reach his neck.
The effect was instantaneous, seeing as how there was enough of the strong medication to knock out a tiger in seconds. It would be more than enough to keep this guy knocked out for a while!
After quite unceremoniously shoving the unconscious body into the back of the Jeep, she drove off in the direction of the warehouse.
And that's where she was now.
But this is usually where Clint takes over!
Like, she's strong alright. Stronger than most people. But to carry an unconscious, fully grown and then some man, into a room, and then hog tie him up? Man, that's just not possible!
She glanced at her watch. He still has twenty minutes. Just to annoy her, he'd use up all that time and arrive with one second to spare! He always did!
She gave a rough sigh and grabbed their duffel bags from the trunk of the Jeep, they knew they'd be leaving the hotel tonight so they packed up before they left for the mission. So she'd change out of this damn dress into something more comfortable, figuring she could leave the captive in the car for a while. He wouldn't wake anytime soon.
She found the power box first and foremost, fiddling with some of the wires until there was finally a spark and a 'pop'. She grinned at her handy work, seeing lights dimly illuminate the place.
You're fucking awesome, Romanoff! Kick Stark out of that tower, you can so run it!
She chose this one specifically. It was the largest one of the lot they scoped out the previous day, the closest to the theatre they were in, and it was the most hidden. The last point was the most important because they'd be interrogating a number of people here so it needed to be out of the way so screams wouldn't be heard.
The size was just handy. Whoever they captured they'd be able to keep in separate rooms and then still have some options of rooms for themselves.
The bathroom she found in the place was pretty horrible. Grimy and stinking after so long of no use. It didn't matter too much though, she's stayed in much worse sure. There was a cracked mirror, the lights were working, and after testing it (and letting black sludge run through first) she found that there was a pretty decent water flow coming from the sinks. That was much more than some places, Barton would be happy to have a mirror to shave in! Last time he had to use her little make-up mirror and cut himself to shreds.
She felt so much better when all the make-up was off and her usual SHIELD gear was on! She could never really handle dresses, not in the field at least! She wore them when needed, like undercover or when some fancy Avengers schindig called for it, usually at Pepper's insistence, but they were just impractical more often than not and she just hated that!
When she got outside, she frowned in annoyance at the fact the guy was still in the Jeep and Clint was no where to be found.
If he went for another fucking drink..
He was now ten minutes late. The ass. Leaving all the heavy lifting to her! Literally!
She sighed and scratched the back of her head, a habit she picked up from her long time partner she later realised.
"How am I to do this..?" She whispered to herself, her mind coming up with a few options.
She grinned at one of them before going to the trunk and lifting the mat of it, opening up the section with the spare wheel. There was always a dolly trolley in there incase someone isn't strong enough to carry or roll a tyre!
"You're a genius sometimes.." She grinned, setting up the handles of the trolley before wheeling it over to the back door of the car. It was pretty low down, the flat bed of the trolley nearly touching the ground. But she didn't care about hurting the guy with a rough landing. Sure, they'd be doing much worse to him when the time came!
So, she tugged his legs enough for gravity to then take over. She felt kind of bad ruining the suit he was in.. She knew how much Clint hated grey suits, she wanted to make sure it remained intact to wind him up a little!
Once the guy was slumped across the flat bed, and she had the car shut and locked, she pushed the trolley into the warehouse as if she was pushing some cargo into a store house. Going from room to room, she eventually found one with some chairs in it. He had to be tied to something, after all! And she needed his hands to be accessible for Barton's favourite torture method!
Twenty minutes late.. That's not like Barton..
Their little visitor was finally tied to the chair properly. Legs tied up to the legs of the chair, arms securely tied to the arm rests, and everywhere she could strap down was strapped down. Clothes were left on though, she really didn't need to see something like that..
She was setting up the weapons on the desk that was in the room when she noticed the time. He definitely went off somewhere, that was the only explanation.
She really needed to talk to him about that drinking problem..
She only found out about it recently, about a week before she showed up at his apartment with this mission. She was talking to Kate on the phone and she commented on how he went out drinking pretty much every night and never returned before day light.
She knew this habit of his.
It happened after bad missions, when there was something he couldn't shake. He wouldn't be able to sleep during the dark hours, so he'd drink himself into a stupor then sleep during the bright hours. It only really ever lasted maybe a month, then he'd snap back.
But her partner had taken a lot more damage this time around.
Not only was there a bad mission, but there was a horrible series of events afterwards that she still doesn't really have any details about. He just shut himself off completely after the divorce, hell, even before the divorce. None of them could get any words out of him, he took it way too hard. It was so bad that a simple mission ended up leaving him on the side lines for months on end, meaning they had to call in Kate to help out the team.
Maybe she should have been there a little more. Maybe, when he was on the side line, she should have stayed with him to help him get through whatever demons he was facing. He was going through so much shit alone. Sure, the team did all say they were there, but things just always seemed to get in the way and poor Clint was always put on the back burner.
Dammit, she should have shown him a little more love.. Then maybe he wouldn't be in this dark place right now..
She shook her head of the thought. They had a new system of being professional during missions. They were way too easily compromised if they showed a little bit of unprofessionalism around eachother and with even the simple missions becoming pretty damn tricky now-a-days, that could be worse than disastrous.
After doing what should have been Clint's part of the interrogation set up, she went about her own part; making a temporary home for the pair.
She chose a room next to the one holding the Adam guy, mainly because she knew it held a few old oil drums, pretty vital in keeping heat in the freezing cold warehouse. Heat in their guests room really didn't matter!
From the supply duffel bag, she took out some lighter fluid and some fire wood, piling it nice and high in the drum before igniting it.
It lit the place up a little more, showing off the room in whole. She saw enough space beside the drum to put the sleeping bags next to each other. They'd need to keep close to keep every last big of heat in. There was a desk on the other side of the room, with an old wheely desk chair sitting by it. This must have been the old managers office.
As always, she set up a little supply corner. Their food and water for the next number of days being neatly lay out.
The place wasn't much, it really wasn't. It was the bare essentials for living. But it's what they always have, and it does them fine each and every time. May not be the five star hotel they were in the past few days, but hey, at least there's no cock roaches like some buildings they'd stay in!
She paused at that thought.
Hmmm..
As casually as anything, she went over and kicked a hole in the wall. She waited then.
Nothing! No infestation!
Clint would NOT be happy if she chose another place like that!
He nearly burned the other place down when he saw just one cock roach!
Master assassin who's terrified by bugs..
Natasha was hoping for a bit of a rest..
She really was..
But the thrashing sounds and shouts from the next room meant that her guest was awake and she had to play hostess for a while.
With a tired sigh she left the nice warm room and trekked into the next room. She gave the guy the sweetest smile she could when he laid terrified eyes on her.
He had been struggling a fair bit. She could see that the ropes had cut into the skin on his arms and he was already bleeding.
"Good evening.." She started as she approached, being cut off though before she could finish her usual introduction.
"Bitch, you better realease me in the next five seconds or I'll make your life a living hell!" He screamed at her, and she had to tut.
"Such language.. My friend Steve wouldn't approve of me being with you at all.." She said with a shake of her head, pulling up a chair so she could sit opposite her captive.
She causally leaned back in the chair, her arms folded across her chest as she regarded the man infront of her. Her and Barton would usually guess how long they'd last, but that stupid ass isn't here yet to take the bet!
"I'm agent Natasha Romanoff of SHIELD." She continued her usual introduction before he had the chance to speak again, and just those few words already had him falling still and going pale. "You've been taken because you possess information or skills that are vital to a mission currently being undertaken. One way or another, what we desire will be taken from you. You decide which way that will be."
The amount of times she's given that introduction has to be in the millions by now. It was a standard thing with interrogations. Fury was usually ok with skipping it, but Coulson always wanted the pair to be able to say to the council 'Hey, we gave the guy an option!' incase they took things a little too far. Which 99% of the time always happened.
The guy was silent, though she'd bet everything she had on the fact that a million and one curses were flying around his head.
She smiled a little at him, loving how even though it was absolutely freezing he was sweating already!
"Maybe next time you'll think twice about picking up a drink chick.. If there is a next time, that is.. Option one is.."
She was cut off once more. Not by her captured friend this time though, but by a much more familiar voice.
"Nat?"
She was going to kill him..
Late and using a nick-name!? Not to mention he sounded drunk alright!
"Excuse me for a moment. You think about which way you want the next few days to go while I'm out." She said with a soft smile, patting the guy's knee gently before leaving the room.
She knew she had her murder face on, because she was seriously contemplating killing Barton on the spot!
She was about to start a rant, about to go on the usual spiel about why timing is important on missions and how he can't just miss a rendezvous by nearly an hour.
All fight left her though when she saw the state her partner was in.
Standing by the door of the warehouse was a fairly beat up Clint Barton.
His weapons were pretty much discarded next to him, he was slumped over and holding onto his left shoulder, he looked just about ready to collapse. A familiar sight, he always got banged up because he just went all out to do what needed to be done. But it doesn't mean that it still didn't take her by surprise and kill her heart a little each and every time.
It wasn't a long distance between them, so they met in the middle quick enough.
"Sorry.. Got tied up.." He said with a shy smile once they met halfway, not drunk. Definitely not drunk. That slur is a bad concussion slur. Since they were closer she could see just how bad the archer was. He was holding his shoulder to try stop a blood flow, with little to no success. Bullet wound, definitely. His eyes were glazed and couldn't focus on one thing, further solidifying her guess at concussion. His left eye was squinted a little, nearly closed, and on closer inspection she noticed a painful burn mark on the temple there that would cause that result.
Damn.. She shouldn't have left him alone with three guys..
Her eyes went a little wide when his legs gave way, managing to catch him with her hands on his chest before he could completely fall to the ground.
"Got ya Hawk.." She said softly as she caught him, holding him until she felt he had a bit of strength regained to support himself. He still seemed way too weak, and there was so much blood on him.. How much was his, she needed to figure out. "Blood loss?"
"Not a clue.. A good bit, not enough to need more pumped in.." He replied quietly, letting her support him by pulling his good arm around her shoulders. He leaned into the support as they made their way to the room she had their little base set up in.
Add freezing to the touch onto the list of things wrong with him right now. She needed to warm him up or he'd go into shock..
She frowned at the shakyness of his sigh when she helped him sit against a wall, the one closest to the oil drum so he'd warm up. There was a proper thermal blanket in the first aid kit, she'd put that over him when she got it.
Their visitor had started giving out again, and she was seriously contemplating killing him just so she could focus on the man infront of her with undivided attention.
He wouldn't open his eyes now, though she didn't ask him to. She just kept her hand on his arm for a moment to make sure he wouldn't fall over and worsen his injuries. She couldn't have him lying down, not with a concussion.
"First aid is in the car. Stay awake Hawk, and I'll be right back." She had to force her voice to be stern, commanding, in order to break through whatever haze he was in right now.
She didn't get a response, but she couldn't wait much longer. He needed some treatment. So she got up and ran out to the Jeep, rooting through it for the kits she knew were in the glove box.
SHIELD issue, so they'd have pretty much everything!
She made sure to grab the bottle of vodka from the trunk aswell, because if it was a bullet wound she had a feeling Clint would need a little liquid courage and she needed something to use as a sterilizer.
"Alright Clint, gotta tell me what happened." She said calmly when she walked back in the room, going to grab a torch from her duffel bag first and foremost so she could see what she was doing to her partner.
No response. This made her panic a little bit.
"Barton?" She called a little louder, frowning with worry now as she went to take a knee infront of him.
Not even a flinch.
Dammit Barton, I swear I'll kill you if this is the little thing that killed you..
She dropped the first aid kit bag and the bottle by her side and quickly felt around his neck for a pulse.
It's there.. Thank god..
Romanoff let out a little sigh of relief, not knowing what she'd do if he did slip away from her, here of all places!
She needed him awake though, otherwise she wouldn't know what to treat. She opened the first aid bag and took out a syringe, knowing it contained a shot of pure adrenaline in it. They were the only syringes SHIELD ever had in the bags, just something to get an agent to a pick up point without dying.
She injected it into his leg, one of the best places to put the liquid. In the neck or arm would send it to the heart too quickly and would probably cause cardiac arrest. Leg diluted it in the blood stream a little more before it hit the heart.
She pulled out the thermal blanket and wrapped it around his legs and torso while she waited for the drug to do it's job, busying herself with sterilising some tweezers and a little knife with the vodka then to try get the bullet out.
A groan drew her attention away from the tools and back to her partner. Her hand instinctively went to run through his hair to try sooth him.
"Coming back to me, little hawk?" She asked softly, trying to sound as calm as possible so he wouldn't panic. "Come on, I need your help here."
"Nothing new there.." He mumbled to her, and she gave a slight laugh. At least he was talking, that was something.
"You have a bullet wound, maybe a concussion, and a bad burn. You remember how?" She asked as she gently pulled the eyelids of one of his eyes apart, shining the torch in it then to test his pupils.
Damn.. Bad concussion.. Light after light would get next to no reaction.
"I.. I don't know.." He stuttered after a moment of thinking, and she just nodded. Both his eyes were open a fraction, but that was enough for her. "Hydra.."
"Well that's right." She smiled with a nod, patting his cheek gently as she put the torch down."You know where you are?"
Gotta keep him talking, gotta keep him awake for a few, make sure he doesn't get sick, make sure I don't lose him..
Another pause met her, and she took that chance to gently poke around the entry wound the bullet made. She should be able to take it out no problem.
"Chicago.."
"Good man." She smiled genuinely this time, because his head wasn't as bad as she first thought it to be if he knew where he was so easily. "Need some vodka?"
"Please." He chuckled softly, she knew he'd know exactly why she asked!
She handed him the bottle and waited as he took a sip, then another, then a gulp. Nearly a quarter a bottle later, he nodded his head, so she grabbed the knife she sterilised.
"Just try keep talking to me Hawk, ok?" She said softly, noticing how tightly he gripped the bottle and how much his face contorted when she cut along the hole to make a bigger wound. At least that let her know the nerves were fine!
"Tricky when you're torturing me.." He grumbled through gritted teeth, and she couldn't hold back the smirk that crept onto her face.
"Quit the drinking and maybe the vodka will be more effective.. Seem to used to it there.." She said quietly, focusing on his arm.
"Maybe I should quit seeing you a while then.. Seem to used to your mean comments.." He replied quietly, but she knew what he was getting at.
This was the most they've seen eachother in a while.
That was the closest he'd ever get to saying 'I actually miss you Natasha.' and she knew it.
"Fucking ow!" He yelled when she poked the cut she made, and she gave a slight laugh. The baby..
There was alot of blood though, and she had no way to stop it right now. So she just grabbed the tweezers to look for the bullet.
"Please.. You know this it nothing. Be nice and I might let you break little Adams fingers later." She smiled a little sadly when her words were met with a whimper and another swig of vodka. Tweezers rooting around a wound in muscle for a tiny little bullet was not a pleasant feeling!
He was sitting still though. He always complained a fuck tonne when she'd patch him up in the field, but most times he just sat like a rock.
She just had to keep apologising each time he made a sound, each whimper or little shout would break her heart that little bit more. She seriously hated seeing him pain.
She let out a sigh of relief when she finally found the little bullet, oh so carefully pulling it back out the path it travelled in. He was panting hard by the end of it, and she was terrified he was about to pass out when she started stitching him up.
"Still with me?" She asked calmly, focusing on stitching him up though her gaze shifting to his face evry now and then. He really had her worried..
"Wish I wasn't.." He replied in a whisper, his voice getting a lot weaker now. She knew he just wanted to sleep, and since his head seemed alright enough, she couldn't really think of a reason why not.
"Just stay with me a little longer. Then you can sleep all you like." Not alot of stitches were needed, four little ones later and she was cleaning the wound and wrapping it up.
The burn was easy to take care of. She just ripped open a sachet of burn cream and rubbed it in, putting a dressing over that aswell then.
She realised he hadn't answered her and frowned. When she looked him over, she noticed that he had slumped a little more, his head only being held up by her hand under his chin and his arms limp by his side. The idiot, he went and passed out on her..
Damn, she was hoping to get him out of the ruined clothes before he did that.
"Damn it Clint.." She whispered with a shake of her head, moving his pillow over closer to his position.
She carefully lay her partner down on his back, wishing more than anything she could give him a soft mattress to relax on instead of a concrete floor.
Once she had his bad arm lay across his chest, she put the thermal blanket and the sleeping bag over his body to keep as much heat in as possible.
Up until that point, she was calm. She needed to be so he wouldn't panic at the state he was in.
Now though? Well, taking a look at all the blood around the room and on her hands. Taking a look at her partners pale face as he lay motionless. It all became too much.
The asshole in the next room was responsible for this.
It was his comrades, his team, his organisation that just kept managing to hurt her partner.
And she'd be damned if she'd let it go without revenge!
Once she made sure her little Hawk was fine, she barged out of the room with new found determination.
When Natasha entered the room with their captive, she saw him still struggling to get free. Without a word, she went over and kicked the chair, sending the man flying down onto his back with a yell.
This wasn't Natasha Romanoff, SHIELD agent anymore.
This was Black Widow he was dealing with. A Black Widow pissed off about her Hawk being laid up once more.
He wasn't going to enjoy this..
In an instant, she was over him, foot crushing his throat dangerously.
"Listen here, you scum.." She growled, not even feeling the usual sense of pride she would from the fear his eyes currently held. It wasn't enough. "You and your friends managed to hurt the best agent that SHIELD has. You managed to draw his blood, managed to make him scream in pain. So your choice of easy or hard way has been revoked. Instead, I'm going to inflict a million times the amount of pain you just inflicted on my partner. And I'm going to enjoy every second of it.."
Sometimes, she got carried away.
Sometimes, a subject would get to her too much and she'd get a little trigger happy with the knives or electro shocks.
Those times, Clint would be there to calm her down. Be there to be the voice of reasoning.
This time though, Clint was lying unconscious in another room.
So, this time, as she got ontop of the man and threw a flurry of punches, there was nothing holding her back.
This time, when she got the knife and stabbed the guy right where Clint was shot, there was no voice calming her down. There were just pain filled screams egging her on.
This time, when she slit and cut, when she burned, when she spent over an hour and half torturing this guy wihtout asking for any information, there was no voice telling her that everything is ok and to stick to the plan.
There was no soothing voice.
That soothing voice was broken in the next room, she had to stitch that soothing voice back together for what was one time too many.
As she sat against the wall an hour and a half after leaving Clint, watching the motionless body of the Hydra agent infront of her, she realised that Clint Barton didn't even have to be conscious to compromise her.
He was in her head, and there was no way to shake that.
After a few minutes, she was calm again. She got out all of her rage, all of her anger. The guy sat, still alive, battered and bruised and bleeding from nearly everywhere, staining his once pristine suit a nice red colour. It wasn't enough, but she needed him alive for information and Clint wouldn't be happy if he couldn't take a crack at him.
With a slight sigh, she stood, and went out to the bathroom. She had so much blood on her hands, both her partners and the guy she just let out all her frustrations on. She needed to scrub them clean.
The task took a while. The blood came off easy, don't misunderstand, but the feeling of Clint's blood just wouldn't leave her and she had to keep scrubbing.
She was exhausted by the end of it all. It had been an emotional few hours that left her drained.
So when she got back to their room, she pulled her sleeping bag and pillow over to beside where her partner lay sleeping. The exact same as how she left him over two hours ago.
With a tired sigh, she climbed into her sleeping bag, laying on her side so she could watch the peaceful face of her partner.
Her little Hawk.
Her love..
She shook her head of the thought with slightly wide eyes. How long has it been since she even thought of him like that!?
Dammit, she promised herself she wouldn't get into this situation with him again!
Right now, she didn't mind.
She let a hand rest protectively on his chest and closed her eyes, feeling comfort in the rise and fall of his body as he took steady breaths.
My love..
She sighed at the thought, finding on the second round that it didn't confuse her as much. He was always hers. She was always his. Even through relationships on both sides, kids on his side, they always belonged to eachother.
That thought sent her to sleep with a smile, though she knew she'd be in trouble with these feelings.
What on earth are you doing to me Barton..?