Chapter 10
Interrogation
Clint stared at the ground though it was too dark to really tell; there wasn't really much else he could stare at or anything he could do. His arms were chained apart to stop him from being able to bring his hands together so he couldn't pick the locks. As an extra precaution his hands were completely sealed inside metal gloves. He was forced to sit in a chair in the small, dark room which was always kept cold, he was fairly sure that if there was any light he'd be able to see his breath. Whenever an interrogation happened he was forced to his feet which were strapped to the floor at all time, it was the only time he was allowed to stand up. He was kept in this constant state only allowed to move when others allowed him to. As if for an extra precaution he was almost always kept sedated causing his limbs to constantly feel heavy and stopping him from thinking straight. He always knew when an interrogation was coming thanks to the drugs; they would wear off just in time for the goons to show up and punch him, and then leave him in pain for a few hours and finally drug him until the next round. He let out a rather painful cough feeling each bruise he had from his time here the drugs were starting to wear off. He was becoming more and more aware of everything; he could feel the dried blood on his face and along his body. He could feel where each bruise and scab was now but despite it all his body still felt heavy. Part of him wanted his body to just give up there was almost nothing worth this pain. He stared into the darkness trying to think if there was any other way out of this, when he went into this he promised himself he'd get out, promise to make sure she got out and he wasn't going to back down from that.
He heard the door open causing him to glance up for only a brief second before the light from the hallway forced him to look away until his eyes could adjust. It didn't do any good, the light in the room was turned on causing his eyes to feel like they were burning from the change. As they finally adjusted he looked up with a slight smirk when he saw it wasn't the same guy who had been beating him since he was caught. The man who had walked in was a lot smaller than the usual guy. The usual guy was extremely large, on part with Thor easily for size though not for strength luckily. Clint had figured it wasn't human just something could somehow shift to look like one, despite it not being as strong as Thor it was still stronger than any human. This one though was small, lean, he had nearly no muscle build. He had short black hair and strange dark blue eyes that unease Clint a bit. Clearly this guy wasn't human either, though it seemed unlikely he was the same as the larger guy. The two stared at each other in silence, Clint was fairly sure the guy was assessing him and the situation. Clint was the one to break the silence, "Heh, so they gave up on brute strength? Can't wait to see what your trick is. Gonna at least let me stretch my legs and stand up?"
The man continued to look at Clint and waited as another man brought in a chair for him. With a slight smile he took a seat never taking his eyes off of Clint, "I thought we'd have a nice chat while sitting down. Now then, you've clearly seen better days I suppose they're not treating you too great here. You know I could make your life a lot easier if you'd just tell us what we want to know. Are your secrets worth the pain you've endured?"
"Really? You figure that one out all on your own? No, it's a vacation in here, really relaxing," Clint continued to smirk as best he could despite the pain, "Standing up is one of the many things I get to look forward to here. The food tastes like old cardboard that was left in the sun too long. Yeah, I didn't know cardboard could change taste by being left out in the sun but they somehow replicated the taste here and that's just delightful. Then I get a massage from your big buddy, he's not great at it but not the worst I've ever had. Now I didn't know that left kidney was that filled with tension, but I'm not expert on massages so I find it better not to argue."
"Funny. I wasn't referring to your physical pain," the man replied simply crossing his arms over his chest, "I meant the pain you cause yourself. You being alone in this room with nothing but your thoughts, that can't be very pleasant. I read your file, Agent Barton, everything you've been through. The things Fury made you go through. Everything before S.H.I.E.L.D., really very interesting stuff. Parts of it nearly broke my heart."
"Aw did my little life story almost make you cry?" Clint questioned sarcastically, "Don't worry, I'm still alive that means there could be a happy ending yet."
"Oh I'm sure there can be. In fact I can ensure it if you just give up what we need to know," The man leaned back in his chair watching the arrow carefully studying him.
Not gonna happen," Clint shook his head, "No plans on turning secrets over to some weird creature like you, or anyone for that matter."
"Too bad, would have made both of our lives easier," The man shrugged like it was no big deal and didn't matter to him, "I'll get what I want either way. I always do."
"I don't think you've figured out who you're dealing with," Clint let out a weak chuckle, "because believe me the people you're ticking off right now, they're gonna rip you apart."
"Is that so?" The man grinned, a rather wide inhuman one as he leaned forward, "And who do you think is going to rip me apart? Do you believe Agent Romanoff will? She left you here alone."
"She didn't leave me, I sent her away," Clint shrugged as best as he could considering his restraints which wasn't much, "but she is certainly someone you should be afraid of. In fact I think you are afraid of her right now. You figured that those files you have on her aren't complete, which means that I'm your only link to maybe filling in the blanks which scares the hell out of you. You know she's coming, and there's no telling what she'll bring with her to destroy you."
"She left you Agent Barton," The man shook his head, "You're just denying that fact. You sent her away to start but she hasn't returned, has she? Without help do you think she'd come here? Probably not, she wouldn't risk that we both know she's smarter than that. She has nowhere to find help anymore and thus you are left alone. You get to spend this time slowly wasting away in your own mind. To be honest I find the entire thing amusing, no matter what you do I'll win. All you have control over is your place in the world when I win. Will you be living or just scraps to be given to the dogs? Hard to say considering how much help you've been so far though really it's not looking well for you. Really Clint, I'd like to help you but the only way I can do that is if you give up."
"Well, you'll forgive me if I don't cooperate with a creature that hides behind a false face," Clint grumbled with a glare.
"Yet you cooperated with Dr. Banner for a while according to your file," The man smirked, "I believe that's the very definition of a false face. A monster or a man, each trying to pretend it's the other."
"Leave him out of this! He never hid behind a false face," Clint was quickly growing frustrated as he pulled against the restraints with no luck. A jolt of pain shot through his body from his action forcing him to take a few deep breaths as he recovered. Through the breaths he continued, "You on the other hand, I have no idea about who or what you are but I know it's built on lies."
"Temper, guess you got that from Dr. Banner," The man replied then thought about what Clint said, "I suppose I see your point, I did skip the introduction on who I am. They call me Tyrell, currently as you know I'm the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. As for what I am, well that's a little more complicated. You're right, I'm not human I just appear human, I appear as what I need to be but you wouldn't be able to fully understand what I am no matter how long I spend here. Let's just say I am what I need to be in appearance. Really what I am in the most simple terms of your world would be well… a collector of strange, unusual and unique creatures. Though it is much more complicated than that, beyond what you could believe. All of those I have brought with me are part of my collection, for their protection I've made them appear human."
"Well then from what I hear your hobby sucks," Clint grumbled watching Tyrell closely looking at each movement. This was his only chance to learn everything he could about this guy. "Going around and collecting creatures? What you running a space zoo or something?"
"Not in the least," Tyrell replied shaking his head, "I go to world that will reach the end of their lives soon and offer a chance to a few selected individuals that are unique to me. I allow them a chance to be something more and continue to live past the life of their world with me."
"So you're saying space Noah's Ark, which let's face it was basically a zoo on a boat?" Clint smirked.
"If you must bring what I do down to that level then yes," Tyrell replied growing quickly annoyed with the man's jokes. "But I told you it's more complicated than that. I would have liked to offer you a spot among us Agent Barton, if you had been willing cooperate. After reading your file and seeing your skills first hand, just watching you get Agent Romanoff away from us like that, truly you both are amazingly skillful. In my crew I could easily make you far superior than what you are now. I could have given you more skills, more strength even weapons and resources that you didn't know you could have, anything you wanted to better yourself. However you playing hard ball and don't want to follow orders. Creates a problem from me you see. Of course my opinion could change if you would just cooperate now. You could be saved from what would happen to this planet. Agent Romanoff would be saved too of course, both of you would live."
"What and be your new pet? No thanks you already have a lot that need attention and I'd rather not share it," Clint replied with his usual grin, "do me a favor bring back Punchy McBruisefist because this talk is getting really boring and bordering on some kind of disturbing fetish. I don't need to know about your weird creature fetish."
"Oh Agent Barton, this was your last chance to make that choice willingly," Tyrell shook his head as the door opened again to allow an agent to bring in a TV on a stand. Tyrell got up and moved his chair out of the way so the TV could be set in front of Clint. "I don't tend to fail when I set out to do something, Agent Barton. I'll be back to see you later, you can count on that. For now I'll let you think over everything and reconsider my offer. Enjoy your stay." With that Tyrell turned on the TV and left the room turning the main light off as he did so. Clint looked at the TV reluctantly. It had started to play missions and other jobs that had gone wrong in the worst way. Whenever someone left Clint behind or whenever Clint was forced to leave someone behind. A few of them where someone had died, all of them on a constant loop even the one he had avoided thinking about. Clint was left completely alone with his memories, the recorded conversation of that order that had gone so wrong on that mission.
((The only character I own is Tyrell who of all things used to be an old D&D character of mine but was modified heavily to come into this. The rest though are not mine.))