The Story of a Bird and Spider || Clintasha

8

"I don't feel safe staying here the rest of the night, but we don't have a choice. There's not enough light to see farther than five feet ahead, much less for Natasha. All we can do is try to put our minds at ease and get some rest. Then, this afternoon, we'll figure out how to get back to America.

"This isn't the first time I've been deemed a threat to an enemy, but I always had the advantage. Here, in Budapest, and sleeping in the woods... This is a different story."

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17. Hungary: Budapest, Monday, August 17, 12:43

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This time, when Hawkeye wakes up, he's the one in danger.

He feels groggy, to which he could possibly relate to a hangover, though he's never had one. His body is his temple, one could say, but perhaps the trauma his father imprinted on Clint's mind is another, more relative answer. Being the heavy drinker that Mr. Barton was, that would be why the Mrs. and him both died in that fatal crash.

His chin rests on his chest, and his eyelids are half closed. He blinks once, slowly, trying to regain attentive sight. Instead, it seems to get fuzzier. When he tries to raise his arm to rub his eyes, he finds that neither of them will move. He feels paralyzed.

That's when a bucket of ice cold water hits him straight in the face.

He coughs and splutters, finally feeling a tingling go through his body. Lifting his head up, he rolls it to get the achy feeling to disappear.

"Ze American."

It doesn't take Clint long to figure out what's happening. He winces when a bright light flashes in his eyes. Closing one, he tilts his head, whilst trying to see the figure holding the interrogation light.

"Where's..." In his effort to ask where Natasha is, he pauses. What would they recognize her as?Then he remembers back at the airport, and prays it's the same people. "Where's Romanov?"

"Farzer away. Somever you cannot find hair so quickly. Do you know what ze X Department es?"

"Should I?" he bluffs.

The man chuckles, moving the light. Blinking repeatedly, Clint surveys his surroundings to look for an escape. His hands are separate, each tightly tied by rope to each back chair leg. It's a metal chair, and it's cold. Like his hands, his legs are bound at the ankles.

Not to mention he's soaked in water.

This is going to hurt when I get free, he thinks to himself, careful to use 'when' and not 'if', even in his own thoughts. The blood rushing to his cold fingers and feet will feel exruciating.

As for the room, it's straight out of a movie. Dark, dank, and smelling of mold. The man drops the flashlight on a table, and the stick moves back and forth, creating a quick glimpse of the setting for Clint. As it rolls to the left, he sees boarded up windows and tattered, burned curtains, much too faded to show its once vibrant color. As the flashlight rolls to the right, he sees a doorway leading to a charred black bathroom, then the bottom of a broken staircase.

"I guess you and ze girl ver not as close as we thought you ver. It doesn't seem you'll be as much use to us, zen. I suppose, since you vill die today, that I vill tell you about ze X Department."

"Spare me," Clint snarls, licking his dry bottom lip.

Instead of lashing out like Clint was expecting, the man gives a hollow laugh. He leans in close to Clint's face and grins as the hero fearlessly stares back.