A/N: Yet another chapter! And within the same week as the last one too! I am on top of my game right now guys. I'm telling you, the epiphany helped. It helped a lot. There will probably be three or four more chapters after this one but that's really about it. I'm actually pretty sad to see this story ending. But then again, it also feels pretty awesome :)

DISCLAIMER: *sigh* nope, still not mine

So! Enjoyyyyy…..

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Natasha let out a long breath, leaning against a wall and trying to stop the trembling in her body. She was exhausted and she hurt and she knew that any more fighting would probably turn out badly for her. She had practically no strength left and she had no idea how many people were left for her to fight through. She just wanted to slide down this wall and curl up in a ball. She wanted someone else to save her and do all the work for once in her life and that thought scared her. She had never been one to let other people do all the work. She was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. She took care of herself and no one else. At least, she used to. Now she wasn't so sure. She had a team now. People who counted on her and if she was being one hundred percent honest with herself that was terrifying. She had people counting on her to protect them and have their backs. She'd only ever done that for Clint. How the hell was she supposed to look after three other people now too? It was not something she was quite used to just yet.

"Black Widow, you're looking a little tired," she nearly growled at the voice behind her. Of course Nutian would be the one to find her right now. She really was sick of this stupid little Asian man. She instantly regretted not having anything better than a pipe to kill him with.

Slowly she turned around and faced the smirking man, a glare hardening on her face. Normally it was a glare that would make even the strongest man tremble in fear. Unfortunately she was currently leaning heavily on a wall and covered in wounds so it wasn't quite as effective, "Nutian. I thought you would be running away hiding right now, letting your big friend handle all the dirty work."

Nutian's cocky smirk turned to an annoyed scowl and Natasha stood a little taller. Her dress was in tatters and her weapons and shoes may be gone but she could still make Nutian look like an idiot and a coward. He stepped toward her menacingly, "I wouldn't be so cocky little widow. You have no weapons and you are weak. I am strong and I still have plenty of weapons."

To demonstrate just how powerful he was in this situation Nutian pulled a small handgun out of his jacket. While Natasha normally scoffed when an enemy pulled out a gun in this case she knew she was an easy target. Her body was still shaking and she could feel the pipe growing heavier in her hand with every second. Nutian could easily end this and she could see in his eyes that he planned on doing exactly that. For the first time in her life, Natasha was afraid. Terrified. She was going to die here. She was going to die in a dingy, abandoned water treatment plant in fucking Beijing. Something about that just sounded ridiculous and so utterly pathetic and she couldn't decide if she wanted to cry or laugh. Nutian cocked the gun and she closed her eyes. She supposed there were worse ways to go. Clint wasn't here, he was safe, and they never managed to draw his location out of her. She'd done her job.

She waited for the bang and the pain but neither came. Instead, she heard a small explosion and the firing of a hand blaster going off. She slowly opened her eyes and slid to her knees in relief. Standing behind Nutian's unconscious, and very dead form, were Tony and Steve. She shoved away the tears begging to creep out of her eyes and simply gave them a relieved little smile, "Took you boys long enough."

Tony's face mask lifted and he gave a small smirk as he walked toward her, "Well we decided to stop for dinner first. You know, make an event out of the night."

She rolled her eyes and tried to stand back up. Steve's arm came around her waist and he lifted her gently to her feet. She knew that if she was anyone else and not capable of killing him he probably would have completely picked her up in his arms. She was not the type to be carried though. Only when she was literally dying. And right then, she most certainly was not dying. She nodded thankfully which he returned with a small smile and let him help her down the hallway, "Did you at least have the decency to bring me some food too? I haven't eaten since…well, since before this whole shitfest."

Tony chuckled, "Unfortunately no. But I'm sure Fury would be more than willing to open the kitchen for you when we get back to the Hellicarrier."

Natasha smirked a bit before she noticed something that bothered her greatly, "Where's Clint?"

Tony shrugged, "Probably waiting for us by now. He went to meet with big blondie while we came here so they wouldn't think we were up to anything. Plus, they said they were going to kill you in five hours if he didn't show. Didn't really wanna risk that."

Natasha frowned, "Something doesn't add up with this whole situation. I was able to escape from my room a little too easily and now Clint, who they were trying to locate the entire time, is just missing? You both know he would be running through this building looking to kill something if he was really here."

Tony seemed to register the truth in her words and his own face furrowed in a frown, "Are you saying this was all a ploy to get bird brain? Seems a bit…excessive."

"When you live like Clint and I do you make some pretty big, pretty crazy enemies. They've done crazier things to get back at us before. I'm just saying, something feels wrong here. If he isn't waiting outside we need to start thinking seriously about another rescue mission."

Tony nodded, his face darkening as thought over her words more and more. This situation was not getting any better and none of them liked that.

Clint wasn't outside. He wasn't in the building. And he wasn't responding to any of their attempts to reach him over his comms unit. Natasha was officially worried for real. Clint wasn't the type to just vanish like this unless something was very, very wrong. She knew they needed to get back to the Hellicarrier quickly if they were going to have any hope of tracking him down and pulling him out of whatever mess he'd stumbled into.

The ride back to the Hellicarrier felt like it took forever and Natasha had to fight the urge to yell at the pilot to go faster. Tony was pacing back and forth while Steve was frowning and looked deep in thought from his seat next to her. Natasha simply focused on breathing and not going ballistic on them all. Her partner was god knows where and she was sitting her completely unable to help him. She didn't like this one bit.

Fury was waiting for them when they arrived back on the Hellicarrier. Along with about six medics and a stretcher. Natasha glared at the stretcher like it was a rabid animal about to bite her. She was not getting on that thing. She could walk just fine so long as Steve didn't let her go. She glanced at Fury with raised brows, "I'm not getting on that thing."

"If you want to help track down Agent Barton then you are. You need medical attention. You're no good to anyone right now, Agent Romanoff," Fury's voice was stern and she could see that he was not in the mood to argue.

She huffed out in annoyance and let Steve guide her onto the stretcher. She was annoyed and pissed now. She was being carted off to the infirmary while Tony and Steve were walking away with Fury toward Command to track down her partner. She hoped for the medics' sakes they were quick about treating her because she refused to spend more than thirty minutes with them and that was pushing it. They were already hustling around her even as they moved toward the infirmary. She could see the pity in their eyes, glancing at the whiplashes and tiny stab wounds littering her body. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. These wounds weren't even that bad. The only thing she'd had to seriously worry about before was the loss of blood and now that she was on the Hellicarrier even that worry was fleeting.

Once in the infirmary she was moved from her stretcher onto a gurney in a curtained off area and a change of clothes was set aside for her. They had learned a long time ago not to try and put her in a hospital gown if she was still conscious and not at death's door. She hated those things and she would make sure getting her into one was the most painful and drawn out process if they tried making her wear one. They had started giving her over-sized soft white shirts and drawstring pants. While she still wasn't one hundred percent happy with the clothing choices it was at least real clothing. They gave her a few minutes to change, one medic facing away from her close at hand in case she needed assistance. Normally, she was fine on her own but this time with the broken ribs, lashes and sheer exhaustion she begrudgingly had to ask for assistance with her shirt and her pants.

Once changed she was sent for x-rays and her back was bandaged along with all the little cuts on her arms and legs. A fragrant balm was placed on her wrists to soothe the raw flesh there before gauze was loosely wrapped around them both. She would never admit it out loud but after all the bandages were on and her ribs were firmly set and wrapped she felt one hundred times better. She was given a sandwich and water and strict orders to stay out of the field until she was cleared for good. She was grateful for the food and water but ignored the orders. She would be out there getting Clint back before this day was over is she got a say in the matter.

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Waking up was a strange feeling since he didn't remember ever going to sleep. Clint could remember being in the limo, heading toward Natasha, and then a prick and nothing. He cursed under his breath. The bastards drugged him. He probably should have seen through the ploy to draw him out but he'd been so focused on getting Natasha back that he completely ignored his own safety. Why would they simply take him to Natasha after spending so much time trying to figure out where he was? It should have been obvious right off the bat but not even Fury had realized what was going on. None of them could have guessed this was how things would turned out.

He found that moving his arms and legs was impossible and when he glanced down he nearly groaned at the sight of rope wrapped tightly around his ankles and wrists. He pulled on the ropes around his wrists experimentally but they were snug and just dug deeper into his flesh. Damn. He was stuck and he still had no idea who was holding him captive.

"Finally awake, halcón?" that voice. He knew that voice.

He looked up and found himself staring at a dead man. Antonio Vargas wasn't supposed to be alive still. He was supposed to have died in a plane crash nearly five years ago after his wife was assassinated. He shouldn't be standing here. Clint must still be unconscious because dead people didn't kidnap other people. They were dead.

"You seem rather shocked. Did you believe I was really dead, mi amigo? You know me better than that. We were so close once you and I. Hermanos," his thick accent bled through and Clint knew he was getting angry. He was like Natasha, his accent leaked out when he was pissed.

"I heard you died in a plane crash. Seemed pretty appropriate to me," Clint said, ignoring the cold fear in his gut.

Antonio Vargas was one of the worst men Clint had ever dealt with. And his wife had been even worse. They ran a drug ring and dabbled in human trafficking on the side. His late wife was the daughter of a major drug lord in Spain. Her father had a hand in every bad thing that ever happened in that country and when he died his daughter took over. She met Antonio when he was a mere grunt, hustling the drugs and girls across the country. She took a liking to him and saw the raw ambition in his eyes. Saw his potential. They were married within a year. But Antonio's wife was a dark, sadistic person who reveled in the pain of others. She had to be stopped. So Clint was hired by a rival drug lord to take both of them down. He infiltrated their ranks and managed to get in good with Vargas. He'd played the part of friends up until the point he put an arrow through the head of his wife. Vargas disappeared before Clint could end him as well. After the plane crash Clint figured he would never have to worry about him again.

Antonio didn't let Clint's words ruffle him though; he simply smiled tightly and approached Clint slowly. He crouched down, his hands in his pockets and his head cocked to the side, "That isn't a very nice way to greet a long lost friend. Especially when you believed I was dead. And after I took such good care of your socio. The spider. Did you enjoy the little videos? I told my men to ensure you saw every moment of her suffering."

Clint glared and threw his head forward, smashing his forehead into Antonio's. The man cursed and stood, brushing his hands down his Armani suit with a disgusted look, "It seems you have forgotten the manners I worked so hard to instill in you, hermano. Perhaps I should reteach you, hm?"

Antonio turned as the door was opened, taking something from a man at the door. When he faced Clint once more there was a riding crop in his hands and a very sadistic smile on his face, "You remember this I'm sure. Instead of watching what happens to those who anger me this time you shall experience the pain of it and I will not stop until you are begging me to kill you, Agent Barton."

Clint felt his eye widen as the crop lashed against his shins. He never knew such a small tool could cause so much pain.

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Natasha walked into Command just as Steve slammed his hand down on the table, an angry look in his eyes. The anger was directed at Fury though, not Stark like she assumed it would be. Steve glared daggers at the director, "We can't just sit here and hope he contacts us soon. Something is wrong and we need to find him!"

Fury narrowed his eyes, a frown deepening on his face and anger beginning to darken his features, "Do you have a better idea then Rogers? We have no idea where Agent Barton is and I'm not about to send two Avengers on a wild goose chase to find him! We need to figure out who has him before we can do anything."

Natasha scowled, approaching the table as Steve opened his mouth to yell once more. Natasha put a hand on his shoulder and turned her anger on Fury, "Director, we can't just sit around. Steve is right, we have to find him before he's killed. There has to be some kind of connection between Nutian and whoever has Clint. Find it and then we can find him. And you'll be sending three Avengers after Clint. I'm not staying here."

Fury returned Natasha's glare with one of his own, "We have people looking for a connection we may have missed before. Rogers and Stark will follow any leads we find and you are going back to the infirmary. You've just undergone torture and you need rest. Agent Barton isn't your concern right now, Agent Romanoff."

"Bullshit. Clint is always my concern. We're partners. I watch his back and he watches mine. I'm not going to wait around while Steve and Tony go after him. I will be a part of this team."

Fury's glare darkened even further and he stepped toward Natasha, "You will stay in the infirmary. I will have them sedate you if I have to. Don't make me."

Natasha glared at Fury for a few more minutes before turning on her heel and leaving the room. She was not heading back to the infirmary though, that was for damn sure. Clint needed help and she was going to find him no matter what. So instead of taking a left toward the infirmary like she was supposed to she headed for the hangar. If Fury wouldn't let her track Clit down from here she would have to do it somewhere else he couldn't sedate her. The Avengers Tower.