Pairings: Clint Barton x Reader
Summary: He finally finds you
@whumptober2019 #9 : Shackled
Warning: mentions of torture, injuries & blood, praise & comfort at the end
masterlist || Whumptober masterpost
The sharp beep of your cell unlocking struck fear deep into your heart as you tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for the pain. It was always pain.
“Tell us where it is”
You simply stared at the man, lips sealed, refusing to spill any secrets that could endanger the team.
“Stupid bitch”
A sharp pain to your abdomen sent you reeling, just barely biting back a whimper that threatened to fall past your lips.
You knew the drill by now: they asked for information, you stayed quiet, they beat you up and left you hanging from your cuffs until the next time. The routine was almost comforting, the knowledge of what was coming allowed you to prepare, to try and mentally shut off from the pain you were being subjected to until it felt like it could all be happening in a dream.
You didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing yet - the detachment of it - some days you felt like you’d never come back, like you’d just stay in the faraway place in your mind that you had created.
Maybe it would be better that way.
Your hands were shackled to the wall above your head, dried blood covering your wrists where you had tried to break free the first few days you had been taken. Time seemed to be never-ending, the damp basement having no windows that you could use to track the days.
Quick footsteps approached you, the beeping sound echoing around the walls just barely making you flinch.
“What have they done to you?”
Eyes widening at the familiar voice, you struggled to lift your head, almost sobbing at the sight in front of you.
“Clint?”
“Shhh, I’m here. You’re okay” he soothed, hands moving nimbly to release the shackles that held you up, your body slumping unceremoniously on to him, “We’re gonna get you out of here”
He picked you up bridal style, your head lolling onto his shoulder as you clung to his neck like a small child.
“I’ve got her” he said into his earpiece, “she was in the basement”
You tuned everything out, solely focusing on Clint’s breathing as he carried you away from your own personal hell. You kept in time with the rise and fall of his chest, grounding yourself in the moment.
Before you knew it, a final door opened and the sun flooded your senses. The warmth of it’s rays spread over you as you tilted your head back, lazily basking in the heat. A small hum of appreciation escaped your lips at the feeling, your grip on Clint tightening slightly.
“You’re safe now” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to your hairline, “Won’t let them take you again”
It took a few seconds for his words to register, your head sluggish from lack of food.
“I knew you would come” you mumbled, words muffled against the skin of his neck, “I didn’t tell them anything”
“I’m proud of you baby, so proud”
Clint was your anchor, your rock that tethered you to this world. He found you, and you trusted him not to let you go again.
As you can see, I’m still going late with the prompts and tomorrow i’m going MIA because of work. This has been fun, though! I’ll use one of the alternates prompts, “Wake Up.”
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The first night since Jim returned– since he was kidnapped and hospitalized– was absolutely awful. Rovie understood, really; It’s been a few days since the poor guy came back to ‘his life’ and found out that his mother, crazy as she was, killed their younger sister then killed herself; they didn’t even live on the same house anymore. Sure, they were on their aunt’s house and it was great, but he knew it wasn’t the same.
When he woke up to someone screaming in the middle of the night, Rovie knew right away it was his brother. So he got up and ran to his bed and found the guy trashing and fighting demons that only existed on his mind. Trying not to jostle his bad arm too much, he started shaking him... only to make it worse. Now he was pleading while screaming, crying and ‘to please stop, please’.
It broke his heart.
“Jim! Wake Up. WAKE UP!” It was probably another minute or two of shaking him and yell his name over the man own screams; by now the whole house might be awake except for him. It was frightening to see. “PLEASE you damn idiot, Wake up!”
The moment he opened his eyes, Rovie knew his brother didn’t know where he was. It was probably less than a second before he reacted and practically sprinted off the bed, and he would’ve succeed if he wasn’t on the way and caught him by the shoulders.
“Jim, you’re ok! You're safe, stop!” But he wouldn’t stop, and in his mind, probably couldn’t stop; Jim started crying, clinging onto him like a scared child. “you’re ok, it was a nightmare, it was- it was just a bad dream”
“No, n-no it-it was real, it was, was real” He mumbled. Rovie was able to sit him and himself against the bed, make him make eye contact.
“It wasn’t, I swear it wasn’t. You’re with me.”
He was shaking and visibly tired. Rovie would’ve guessed that he was trying to process the information, or trying to get out of his own mind and demons. He sighed, hugged him and rubbed his back.
The Debt Collector is man who helps people enact revenge on unsuspecting prey. With a successful track record over 15 years, The Debt Collector has gotten away with many murders. It was that case 15 yeas ago that helps the task force track down The Debt Collector thanks to the help of an unlikely ally. Meanwhile suspended from the task force, Ressler helps Agent Gale dig deeper into the 86 bodies and just how it is all connected to Red and the Task Force. Who put the hit out on Liz, and can Red stop The Debt Collector in time? We travel in steerage this week as we break down the episode.
Be sure to answer our profiling question of the week: What will Agent Gale do now that he knows the truth? Visit our feedback page to leave a response or call +1 (304) 837-2278.
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