This chapter written by me!
I'm really sorry, but no Russian translations for you, because I can only translate into Dutch and German.
Oh, and thanks to SANDIE BRODY for putting up with my slow writing.
Disclaimer: Same old, same old...
Tasha's P.O.V.
2 months ago
I wake up, confused and dizzy. Where am I? my mind screams, as I process my surroundings. I am in a dark room, with plain red walls and a lone camera pointing at me from the corner.
My mind races, Could Red Room have captured me? If not, then why are the walls all red?
And then my heart stops, as one though obliterates all the others I have.
Where is Clint?
Clint's P.O.V.
2 months ago
My mind is blurry, and all I can think about is Where in the name of God am I?
As my eyes focus, I see that once again, I am in S.H.I.E.L.D. medical.
I groan inwardly. For the love of...
Suddenly, a new thought pushes its way into my head. Where's Tasha? She's always here when I am, always. No exceptions. So, where is she?
"Where is Agent Romanoff?" I ask out loud, knowing that at least one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s many doctors will be watching me.
The door opens, and in walks Fury. I have to have done something seriously wrong for that look of pure anger that is on his face.
However, when he sees me looking at him, his face morphs into an unreadable expression, sympathy maybe.
"Agent Barton."
"Sir."
The conversation is hesitant, neither of us wanting to say what I want to - no, NEED to know.
"How are you doing?"
"Fine, sir. Just give me clothes and my bow, and I'll be gone, Tasha - sorry, Agent Romanoff at my side..." I trail of as a look of deep regret crosses Fury's scarred face.
"What?" I demand as he just stares at me.
"Clint..." The use of my name freezes me. "Agent Romanoff was captured by an unknown party during your mission. As I understand it, you were too busy looking after yourself to look out for her!"
My heart gave up. I blacked out, and the next thing I know I am being wheeled away into intensive care.
Tasha's P.O.V.
1 month, 3 weeks and 6 days ago
I have been here now for 4 days, and every day I am merely left alone. And all I can do is think of Clint.
He proposed to me just before the mission, and I accepted. Now, I have a thin band of silver with a single emerald set deep into the metal on my finger.
And I hate it.
I hate it so much.
I hate it because it is a reminder that I let my guard down, but for the right reasons.
I sit down, with my back against the wall, and I pray to myself that he will come.
He has to.
No doubt about it.
He has to come!
He made me so many promises.
To always love me.
To look after me.
To care for me.
To help me when I need him.
To always find me when I'm lost.
And this last one sticks in my mind, as I wait for Clint Barton to find me.
Sandie Brody next!
JojotheObsessedFish
