A/N: Okay! Here is yet another chapter and it didn't even take me a year to get it all written either! I'm figuring out more of this story as I go along, really establishing what I want to happen and I am pretty happy with how things are turning out. Now I just have to keep the juices flowing so all ya'll lovely people stay happy and reading!

DISCLAIMER: Nope, I still don't own any of this even though I really wish I did…

Okay, here we go again…

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Waking up was awful. Her whole body was on fire but the worst of the pain was in her wrists. She winced, feeling the warm blood trickling down her arms. She licked her cracked lips, wishing more than anything she had water in that moment. She glanced around the room and noticed she was alone. She sighed out; surprisingly relieved no one would see her right then. She felt weak and, if she was one hundred percent honest with herself, afraid. Her whole body felt heavy as lead and like fire was licking at every inch of her flesh. She blinked back the pricking of tears in her eyes and tried to remember that dying protecting Clint was better than anything else she was likely to die for. After all, at least he wouldn't be killed in the process.

She bit back a groan when she heard the doorknob turn and the door swung back on rusty hinges. Damn, so much for that peace and quiet. She pushed away any emotions besides rage that were lingering beneath the surface and levelled a glare at the big blondie from before. She sighed out in annoyance, "I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood for guests at the moment."

He smirked and shook his head, brushing a hand lovingly down a small blade she didn't notice when he first walked in. He smiled coldly, the metal glinting in his eyes before he slowly raked them down her body, "You look better with blood on you. It fits you. But then again, you are an assassin. Assassins must have blood on them, even if you cannot see it. You are like that. So much blood and yet, you look so innocent."

He approached her slowly, drawing out the moment and raising the tension. She said nothing, not in the mood to banter or insult him or anything. She just wanted to get it all over with. She just wanted to pass out again and hope the next time she woke up, she would be back on the Hellicarrier. She chuckled under her breath, she couldn't remember the last time she wanted to be on the Hellicarrier. That place was so noisy most days now that Stark decided he wanted to visit. That man could drive her insane. She turned her attention back to an even less favorable subject as her new friend approached her.

He was only a few inches away from her now and he was looking even more sinister than before. With a quick flick of the wrist that blade was no longer in front of her, it was lodged in her abdomen just above her right hip bone. She groaned. The blade wasn't large enough to do any lasting or deadly damage but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Seems you are breaking at last. Making a noise come from you before was much harder. Perhaps you will tell me where your partner is now?" he smirked a little wider and twisted the blade just a bit.

She bit back another groan and turned steely eyes on him, "I already told you, ublyudok, I will not tell you anything."

He smiled, "I hoped you would say that."

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Clint strapped on his quiver of arrows and made sure he had plenty for the journey. His bow was sitting on the bench next to him, polished and ready to kill the men doing this to his partner. Tony and Rogers were already suited up and ready to go, both looking determined and ready to end this. He found he couldn't disagree with that mindset. Normally, he wasn't one to side with either of them preferring to do things his own way, but today he was willing to bet they would all agree on one thing: the people hurting Natasha would pay dearly. And for him, that meant they would be dead before the day was over. He knew Rogers could be hesitant to kill unless it was necessary. Tony, well you could never really tell with Tony, but Clint was fairly certain Tony wasn't the shoot to kill kind of guy unless he had to be.

He leaned back in his seat, letting out a deep breath and hoping they weren't too late getting to Natasha. They'd spent too much time waiting around and not doing anything. If she was dead he didn't know what he would do. He would get his revenge of course but then what? He didn't think he could come back to S.H.I.E.L.D if she was killed, too many reminders, but he wouldn't go back to being a hired gun either. Could he start a life? Was he even capable of something like that? He blinked and shook his head, ignoring the thoughts. Natasha wouldn't be dead. He would save her and then they would kill all the people responsible for this one by one.

The jet began to dip slightly, indicating they were close to their destination. Clint would be dropped at the west entrance to Beijing, just like the video stated, while Steve and Tony remained on the jet and headed to where they thought Natasha was being held. If all went according to plan by the time Clint showed up the place would be in their control and Natasha would be freed. Nothing ever went to according to plan though and Clint wasn't overly hopeful this time would be any different. All he could do was hope they managed to get out of this mess alive. All of them.

He stood as he felt the wheels touch the ground, nodding to his two teammates before heading down the lowering cargo ramp. Steve and Tony both looked determined but also slightly worried. He ignored his own worry and instead focused in on his anger. His burning determination and the need to kill the people responsible for hurting his partner in such a way. He also knew that when this was over he was going to have a serious talk with Fury about making him and Natasha full time partners again. This separation bullshit was the main reason they were now in this mess. If Natasha had been with him to begin with, he was fairly certain this whole thing could have been avoided. Yeah, Fury was in for a seriously long and pissed off conversation when this was done.

He watched as the quinjet lifted off the ground and the cloaking fell back in place. It was gone within seconds and he returned to the path in front of him. The night was cool and the moon was completely hidden which meant it was almost pitch black outside until he reached a small park just outside the city. Small lanterns were scattered over the grounds of the park and in the middle of it all a black limo was parked. One man in a suit was standing beside the back door and Clint made his way toward the vehicle.

"Hawkeye, we meet face to face at last," the man said. Clint recognized him almost instantly as the blonde from the videos, the one who tortured Natasha. He had to fight the urge to grab one of his arrows and send it through his skull. He nearly lost the battle with himself. The only thing that stopped him was Nastasha. She needed him and if he blew this now then she would be dead before Steve and Tony even reached her. He would not risk that. He refused to. So instead of shooting him in the eye he simply ignored the comment and stopped just in front of the man. Natasha's tormentor smiled sardonically, "You will have to relinquish those weapons if you wish to be taken to your partner. We wouldn't want any…accidents now would we?"

Clint glared at the man as he slowly removed the quiver and bow from his back. They were taken from him roughly. The trunk was popped open and his weapons were tossed inside. When the blonde man returned his attention to Clint he opened the back door, motioning for him to slide inside. Clint let out an annoyed huff and lowered himself into the car. The blonde man slid in beside him, forcing Clint to scoot further into the vehicle so as to keep from sitting on top of the man. He already hated this situation and it was only getting worse in his opinion. So with a very annoyed look at the man beside him he settled in as the car began moving.

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Natasha let out a soft groan as she opened her eyes. She was alone again. Thankfully, blessedly alone. Her body was screaming in pain and she wasn't sure how much longer she could last here. She wouldn't give Clint up, never, but her body may give out before a rescue team could arrive. She found it humorous, waiting for a rescue like this when normally she was the one doing the rescuing. She also found it more than a little annoying. She would give anything to get out of this mess on her own without the help of others but she was running a little short on ideas and strength to attempt anything at the moment.

She glanced around her, somewhat surprised that no one had come in yet. So far she hadn't been left alone for more than five or six minutes after she woke up. She knew they had cameras on her and no matter how hard she tried to hide that she awake, someone always knew. She knew that the sudden absence of her blonde tormentor was either very good or very, very bad. She was hoping it was the former. She wasn't really in the mood for more bad. Her body had enough of that at the moment. She could even feel the pain from the dozens of tiny stab wounds all over her body. That little knife wasn't long or wide but damn it hurt. More than she thought was possible. She was dripping blood onto the floor, creating a small pool under her feet. That sight of all the blood worried her. She knew that if she lost enough it wouldn't matter if no one was coming in and trying to kill her, she would die anyway.

She let out a small sigh, telling herself she had never been helpless before and she wasn't going to start now. There was always a way out of bad situations. The fact that she was still alive was proof of that. There were plenty of times she should have been dead before this little fiasco and yet she always managed to come out on top. Minus the scrapes and broken bones that usually came home with her so far she'd survived pretty splendidly. She took another glance around her and up at the chains holding her wrists in place. She noticed the hook the chain was looped over for the first time since being place in here. She glanced down at her ankles, calculating how much slack she had to work with. She figured she had just enough to lift her body up high enough to grab that hook and remove the chain from it. The drop to the floor wasn't going to be pleasant but she would survive.

She took her right hand and grabbed a small length of chain above the manacles around her wrists. She pulled and managed to lift her body up two or three inches before grabbing another small length of chain with her left hand and lift her body even higher. She repeated this process over and over again, her whole body trembling from the effort. She was just below the hook when her hand slipped and she slammed back down to her original position. She bit her bottom lip, holding in a scream as her joints were pulled and strained. She was surprised her shoulders weren't completely dislocated after that. It took a few more minutes of deep breathing before she was ready to try again.

Inch by inch she worked her way up the chain, sweat dripping down her back, mixing with her blood as it fell to the floor beneath her. Finally, after her fourth try, she managed to snag the hook in her sweaty right hand. She quickly threw her left hand up to join it before she lost her grip. She hung there like that for a moment, taking a few more deep breaths, before inching her chain over the hook. It took almost as much time to release the chain from the hook as it had to climb up the damn thing. She hadn't realized just how much chain was wrapped around the hook when she originally glanced at it. After a few more minutes though the chain was loose and hanging down her body.

The next part she had to brace herself for. She knew that dropping to the floor was going to be painful and she also knew there wasn't really any way to roll with the landing. Not with her ankles shackled together like they were. So she closed her eyes and simply dropped, bracing her legs as much as she could when she felt her feet hit the ground. She toppled forward, her elbows cracking on the floor painfully but thankfully she didn't think anything was broken. She lay there for a while, just breathing and letting the relief flood through her body. Her wrists were throbbing painfully but she knew it was just the blood rushing back into them at last. While it was extremely painful it was also a welcome pain for her.

Once she could fully feel all of her fingers again she sat up slowly. She glanced at the door, more than a little surprised no one was coming in and trying to put her back where she belonged. Something about that was strange to her but she couldn't think of why they would be letting her try and escape. She carefully resumed her escape attempt, keeping an eye and ear on the door at all times.

She brought her hands up to her hair, searching and hoping to find a stray hair pin there somewhere. Fate was apparently on her side because buried in her red curls she found a single hair pin that somehow managed to remain in place. She pulled it free and used her teeth to shape it. Within a few minutes the shackles were off her wrists and ankles and she was able to move around freely. She massaged her sore wrists as she wandered around the room, looking for some way out without using the door. While she didn't find another exit she did manage to find a piece of pipe lying in a dark corner. It was rusty and old but she figured it would work better than nothing.

She approached the door slowly, knowing the people on the other side could see everything she was doing. Part of her wondered if this was just another form of torture. Make her think she has escaped and then throw her back in here all over again. Well she wasn't going to make it easy on them that was for sure. She wouldn't go down without a fight and if she had a choice, she would die before letting them get the better of her again.

She reached for the door handle and slowly tested it, surprised when it turned. Something was very, very wrong with this whole situation. This was way too easy. She took a breath in and swung the door open, pipe held ready in case of an attack. Nothing. Just the sound of dripping water and the faint sound of voices ahead. She frowned and moved cautiously from the room and toward the voices.

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Tony and Steve arrived at the old water treatment plant without any issues. But that didn't keep them from worrying. Neither one of them could shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong with this whole situation. The people who had Natasha were trying to make her spill Clint's location but they knew exactly where to send the videos of her torture. While it was no secret who Natasha worked for and sending the videos to the Avengers Tower had been simple it still made no sense in Tony's opinion. He knew there had to be something else going on here, something more sinister that none of them had thought of yet. Why ask Natasha for her partner's location if they were just going to make him show himself anyway? Did they think he wouldn't try to save her? Or did they think giving him a timeline would make him act rash, with more emotion than logic? Tony just couldn't figure it out which was frustrating. He could usually figure everything out.

"Stark, we're going in. Remember, try to be as inconspicuous as possible until we know where Agent Romanoff is. We don't want them killing her before we can get to her," Steve said, eyeing Tony sternly.

Tony merely rolled his eyes and waved off the Captain's comments, "I know, I know. No blowing anything up until the spider is with us. You've told me already."

Steve nodded curtly before turning to the opening cargo doors. Tony rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers. The new suit he wore was powerful and he was itching to test its abilities but he also saw the logic in Steve's approach. If they went in guns blazing Natasha could very well be killed before they could get to her. Then all of this would be completely pointless. So he followed the Captain into the dark and kept his weapons to himself for the time being. However, once they had the fiery Russian he wasn't going to hold back. While he and Natasha tended to bicker and he could be snarky with her he was still extremely protective of her. He was protective of all of them. They were a team and up until the New York incident with Loki he'd never wanted to be on a team like he did now. Being an Avenger was something he loved. He would never tell anyone that of course. He liked to play it aloof in case things went sour. But in this instance, he was willing to let some emotion through. Because he was pissed. You didn't mess with one Avenger without tasting the fury of the rest.

Steve motioned him toward a door in the side of the building, carefully opening it and stepping inside. Tony followed close behind him, the inside not much brighter than the night outside. He could hear water dripping and even through his suit he could smell mildew and mold all around them. He wrinkled his nose, biting back any snide remarks that came to mind. They would echo off these walls and they would lose the element of surprise. So instead he kept the comments to himself and tried to ignore the stench all around them.

They walked for a few minutes before Tony caught the sound of voices ahead. Steve glanced back at Tony and started throwing military hand signals his way. Tony ignored him and moved forward. Steve let out a sigh of annoyance and followed Tony into the light of a room just up ahead. Inside were about five or six armed men and all conversations stopped immediately when the pair walked in, all eyes turning and filling with fear as they caught sight of the new visitors. Tony smirked, well at least these men knew when to fear something.

Woo one more down! So I had a bit of an epiphany the other night about this story and it has put the inspiration back in me so hopefully I will be able to crank out more of this story faster now ^_^ reviews are always extremely helpful of course! And I hope to see you again in the next chapter!

Luna