Love Is For Children ~Hawkeye & Black Widow (Part One & Two)

Blind Hope

The helicarrier touched the ground and only seconds later Clint was already stepping off; determination plastering his stubble ridden face. Fury wasn't present on the helicarrier due to a pressing issue with the state of Thor's latest feud with Malekith, but that didn't matter, Clint wasn't concerned whether he had the ten men behind him or not, because he was going to get Natasha back or die trying. 

Due to the grid lock placement on the actual area containing Natasha, it made the job much harder than it could have been, so instead of just heading straight into the supposed building, they would have to search the perimeter which could hold them back by at least three hours. Barton made sure his bow was in check and his container was stored with plenty of arrows - plenty to send through the eye sockets of the bastards that took her - also making sure the knife was strapped to his ankle and his back-up pistol was strapped to his waist; he hated guns, but it was useful. 

The ten men and Clint split into two groups, hoping to decrease their time in finding the base. Two groups both drove in black jeeps, prowling different ends of the border and outskirts of Hanover, and although as time ticked, and the chances of finding Natasha alive were scarce, Clint's faith didn't falter.

--

Natasha was dreaming. His arms were wrapped around her shoulders as they stood on the balcony, the both of them sharing a linen bed sheet to cover their naked bodies as they watched the descending sun melt against the line of the ocean. He squeezed her shoulders gently to reassure her, to remind her and also to tell himself she was there, then he leaned down to place his lips gingerly below her ear to whisper "You and me, Natasha, always", and then he kissed her neck before resting his head on top of hers. 

She relaxed into his body, letting go off the sheet and turning to morph their lips together; she was bare to the world around her, and Natasha knew that, but to her it was enthralling and comforting knowing that Clint was also bare to the world, and it was almost frightening for her to feel safe even out in the open, just because he was there. 

As Natasha pulled away, she kept her eyes closed to just feel him against her and to take all of him in - his taste, his scent and his touch - how soft and still strong he held her, the way he tasted on the tip of her tounge, it just all made sense and felt familiar, when it all suddenly changed. 

His grip on her changed, it became more rigid and tight, almost hurting her and surely leaving bruises in some places. Natasha's eyes shot open at the sudden change of feeling, and immeditaly becoming startled at the sight before her. It was no longer Clint holding her, it was the damaged, manic and bleeding face of Dr Heinlein - his toothless mouth pulled into a crazed grin that had Natasha tearing at his shoulders to let her go, but the more she struggled the tighter his grip became; she was suffocating.

Until she awoke with a strangled cry.

Natasha immediately tried jumping from her seat; but found she was restricted due to the metal bonds holding her into the chair she was sat in; sweating, trembling with head spinning. The previous time she was concious came spilling back into her memory, causing her to immeditely calm her ragged breathes, knowing she'd have to concentrate. 

The room of course was totally different to any of the rooms she'd seen in the HYDRA base, and in comparison looked the most terrifying. It was an octagonal, bleach white room; harbouring no windows, no medical trays, no scapels, just herself in a restraining chair and a door seven feet in front of her. Although she'd never set foot in this room before it beckoned a sense of reckoning from within her; letting loose a few repressed memories. 

She recalled first the last time she was tied to a chair, which had just been before she had learnt that Clint had been comprimised, but besides the fact Clint was potentially in danger, she was in complete control of the situation and the ropes tied around her wrists were at the back of her mind; she was out of the warehouse within five minutes with only one tear in her tights.