The first time Clint realizes this mission is far more dangerous than any of them thought, he's being strapped to a table in a medical ward and he realizes the restraints are not as easily slipped as they suspected and the needle sliding into the joint of his arm is injecting far more than a simple saline solution.
That is, in retrospect, the last clear thought he has. A desperate knowledge that this has become a one way trip, and all of it because someone hadn't done enough research, had intel that implied that the patients were volunteers, were treated reasonably well, were bribed for their cooperation. They knew about the kidnappings, of course, because that was why SHIELD had gotten involved, but the data they'd been getting from their trusted sources all indicated that sending an agent under cover as a patient would be the fastest way to infiltrate the corporation. Clint was chosen because he was new, he was talented, and there were more than a few higher ups that still didn't trust him. But it was assumed (even by him) that
( ... )
By the time he hears a knock on his door that sounds different from the normal orderly, he's barely sure of his name, much less the rest of who he is and why he's here. He's reduced to the number they've given him, the routine of the tests and needles and lights on and lights out, and when she gives the instructions he follows without thought of protest. There's no fight left in him. He stands and slips his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and listening for the sound of the latch. There's something about the voice that tugs at him though, the part of him under the cocktail of drugs, and when he hears the door open he's blinking open his eyes to see who's replaced his normal torturer
( ... )
It's not the reaction Natasha expected, this strange non-reaction. Ever since she saw him in the corridor, she's been toying with the thought of how he might react when she reveals herself to him. (Which, frankly, she shouldn't. If he has a line to the inside he could ruin her mission. Except-- Well, he never has this far.) Anger, perhaps, she thought. But more likely disbelief. And, perhaps if she's lucky, relief. Gratitude even. Or he'll toss her one of those smirks that make her heart skip a beat in her chest
( ... )
"Nine-thirty," he repeats, trying to process the information like it's vital to his life, but--really, it's just because it seems like nothing sticks in his brain anymore and he wants to find some frame of reference, something to help him level out. And that seems like something important too, that idea, but he can't for the life of him remember why and it compiles onto the dizziness and the confusion and he groans, letting his head thump back against the wall
( ... )
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That is, in retrospect, the last clear thought he has. A desperate knowledge that this has become a one way trip, and all of it because someone hadn't done enough research, had intel that implied that the patients were volunteers, were treated reasonably well, were bribed for their cooperation. They knew about the kidnappings, of course, because that was why SHIELD had gotten involved, but the data they'd been getting from their trusted sources all indicated that sending an agent under cover as a patient would be the fastest way to infiltrate the corporation. Clint was chosen because he was new, he was talented, and there were more than a few higher ups that still didn't trust him. But it was assumed (even by him) that ( ... )
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