The memory of Clint's eyes burned in her brain. Images of him tossing and turning, unable to sleep after discovering her capture, maybe he had not even attempted to sleep at all and had paced the floors of Stark's mansion during the night, drawing his bow back and using anything he had seen as target practice. Now he was even angrier. Although he had laughed manically before leaving the room, Natasha was certain she had heard a distinct bang, followed by a symphony of crashing from somewhere relatively distant. She continued to stare into thin air, as she perfectly pictured Clint Barton striding out of the door and along the corridor, long, purposeful strides; the ones he used to try and wear down his anger. Reaching a point which he believed to be a safe enough distance from both herself, and the other Avengers; he stopped dead in his tracks, his breathing growing shallower, and more rapid.

BANG!

The sound of his fist connecting with the metal vent made a satisfying noise, but was not quite as frustration quenching as he had planned. Natasha continued to mentally watch as Clint kept his fist held in the dent he had created, whilst deciding what to do with his over-boiling anger. Out of the corner of his eye, Clint noticed a selection of shelves, holding a variety of empty paint cans and various tools. Within seconds, he had descended into blind fury, obliterating every object he could find. When the last shred of rage had escaped from him, Clint slumped down amongst the self-created chaos. He laid one leg out straight, kicking a damaged paint can out of the way, and rested his elbow on his other bent leg. His eyes looked up at nothing in particular, as he calmed his breathing and pulse, before he surveyed the debris. Frowning, and with a heavy sigh he pushed himself up to standing, and began to replace the broken items onto the shelf.

Natasha closed her eyes, wishing the images of Clint away. She knew he had not intended for her to hear him earlier, if anything it would only make him more enraged to learn that she had heard him 'expressing' his emotions. It had surprised her at first, to realise that Clint had been the source of the commotion; during their partnership he had always been the one able to shrug off annoyance, usually able to calm himself through breathing techniques or by channelling his anger into target practice. She had been the one who had left numerous marks on the walls of the Shield training room from when the punch bag has not been satisfying enough, not Clint.

'No prizes for guessing who's to blame for that too…'

The effects of the drugs were starting to wear off a little now, Natasha could tell by the aches and pain beginning to slowly flood over her body. She forced herself to try and recollect her thoughts, attempting to remember what had happened before she had woken up to see Bruce Banner. Even with her eyes closed all she could see was Clint's face, but it wasn't an image of him looming over her now, like it had been earlier; instead now he was stood atop a yellow taxi in the middle of the street, drawing back an arrow with exact precision. Clint's face began to blur and slowly morphed into Tony Stark, his visor on his helmet down, and a concerned look on his face. No sooner had the image developed, his visor slammed shut, and a hammer whooshed past. Following the hammer's trail, Thor was now standing before her, the Hulk swinging his fist into several Hydra agents at once, and punching them into oblivion. Once again the image started fading away to black,

CRASH!

Tumbling rubble suddenly appeared, falling all around her. Dodging many parts of debris, a rapid swirl of red, white and blue caught her eye too late.

THWACK!

Thrown backwards by the force of Captain America's shield clipping the side of her temple, she hit the ground hard. All of a sudden the shield was replaced with Baron Strucker's face staring down on her, a look of disappointment mixed with malice on his face. Abruptly his face moved several metres away from in front of hers, and he now stood at a doorway, wreckage still pouring down beside him. He still maintained that look, but now there seemed to be a faint smile present. Then he turned and exited through the door.

CLICK.

Bright light flooded into her pupils, as she opened her eyes, finding herself back in the Avenger's mansion. She noticed a figure closing the door, his back to her, and as he turned around Natasha tried to stifle a gasp. Unable to separate reality from memories, she blurted out the words before she could stop herself,

"You left me…"

Baron Strucker was stood in front of her, his face still gnarled into a mixed expression, but confusion began to overtake anger.

"You're a big girl Widow, I reckoned you could handle yourself for an hour or two."

The voice that left Strucker's mouth did not match him face. And as he stepped closer towards her, Natasha watched as Strucker's features began to soften and morph, until Bruce Banner was standing beside her, a bemused expression on his face, still laced with an edge of disdain.

"I did leave you with a sitter you know."

Banner smirked as he remembered Clint's face when he had informed him that he could go and interrogate Natasha. Even though the archer had remained calm when Bruce had delivered the news, Clint had rushed off straight away to where Natasha was being kept, like a child racing to open birthday presents. Bruce hadn't seen Hawkeye since he had headed down to the basement level, which he had taken to be a sign that either he hadn't been able to break Widow, or that he was still trying; and since nearly three hours had passed, Bruce had come to check. At first glance, with Clint's absence he had presumed that the former was true, but something in Widow's face as he had entered, made him wonder if Clint had actually had an effect on Natasha. Bruce directed his gaze back down to look at Natasha, but she had regained her cold composure, once again staring at the ceiling.

'Looks like she's planning on doing this the hard way after all….'

Sending Clint in to talk to her had by no means been a pleasant experience, for either individual, but Bruce suspected that the reason Clint had been sent in first was due to his emotional ties to the situation; and whilst Barton had spent months dedicated to catching the Black Widow, something told Bruce that Clint was reluctant to use more violent methods to extract information from her, although he didn't understand what had exactly given him this hunch. Bruce reached over to the small metal trolley stand near Natasha's bed, and picked up a large syringe, filled with a creamy coloured liquid. If Natasha had flinched at the sight of the needle, she could only have done so for a mille-second. Just as Bruce opened his mouth to speak, an all too familiar beeping sound resounded around the room. Digging into his lab coat pocket, Bruce retrieved his calling card, pressing the speaker button as he did so.

"What is it Tony? Can't it wait for a little while?"

"Uh, no, not really Banner…you might wanna get up here, like now.."

Bruce frowned at the card, if any other member of the team had called him, he wouldn't have questioned the situation, but Tony Stark had once called Bruce away from the middle of an important test on some new Avengers equipment; for the scientist to run through the mansions halls, only to find Tony wanting help to make breakfast.

"Is the world about to be destroyed?"

"Well, no.."

"Are you the only Avenger in the mansion?"

"No…."

"Then can't you deal without me for this one?"

Bruce's frowned deepened as there was a small crackle in the silence, before Tony answered back,

"The world is not about to meet extinction right now, but we might be. We have a…erm visitor…who just kinda demanded our presence. And I don't think you have the choice of missing this group reunion.."

Thor and Captain America had been walking down the main corridor of the mansion, heading towards the front door. They had been looking for Clint, as since they had been unsuccessful in finding him anywhere around the mansion, Thor had suggested that Hawkeye might be outside. It was a credible suggestion, since the team knew that Barton was prone to 'nesting' in high places, and the trees outside the mansion provided the perfection combination of height and coverage.

"I wonder what words the maiden could have spoken to upset friend Hawkeye so…"

"She probably didn't have to say anything Thor."

Steve Rogers kept his head bent, staring down at the carpeted hallway, grinding his teeth as he spoke the words. He had been reluctant to let Hawkeye be the first to interrogate Black Widow, torn between the fact that there was a history between the two, and that she may be more likely to divulge information to Barton; but their history was also the reason Steve had been hesitant to let him go alone.

'Bruce and Tony are right Steve. It has to be me. And it has to be only me.'

The image of Clint muttering these words before walking out of their group meeting kept replaying in Steve's mind. He hadn't liked it one bit; the way that Clint was acting like a martyr, and the fact that Hulk and Ironman had been so quick to push him into it. In his opinion, Widow was just as likely to give as little information to Hawkeye as she would the others.

"Relationships on Midgard seem very…complicated…"

Thor's statement drew Cap' out of his thoughts, and he had to release a small chuckle at the Demi-God's bemused expression.

"You have no idea Thor."

They were now a few paces away from the front door, when it was knocked down off its hinges, resulting in a thunderous bang. At the sound Cap' and Thor both sprang into 'battle' positions, Captain readying his shield; Thor swinging his hammer behind him, until they looked closer at the person in front of them. Nick Fury stood before the two men, standing on the crushed piece of wood which had been the door. Stepping off the splintered wood, his long black coat flared up around his ankles, and now Thor and Captain America could see the hoard of SHIELD agents arranged behind him outside of the mansion; but the most startling sight was the anger on Fury's face. Practically growling, he divided his glares equally between the two men. Straightening up, Captain was the first to speak.

"Sir…"

"Gentlemen! Go get the others and assemble in the mission room NOW!"