A/N:
You do not need to have seen or even heard of Oz in order to read/understand this fic!
Ok so this is sort of my attempt at an Avengers/Oz crossover. The difference is, there are no Oz characters in this fic. Only the setting and the way things work are similar to Oz. If you've never seen Oz that's fine, I will try to explain some aspects of the prison and how it's different through out the fic, though it wouldn't hurt to read up on the jail and especially Em City (special part of the jail), where this fic is based.
I'm putting this chapter out there to sort of gauge people's reactions, I want to see if anyone would be interested in an AU crossover like this at all. So any reviews/suggestions/follows/etc. Would be nice and very helpful in my decision.
As for this being AU, basically it doesn't coincide with Avengers or really any of the movies. Not on a whole at least. This fic is more of a reality version of them all. i.e. Loki and Thor aren't gods and have no special powers. Clint and Natasha aren't assassins. Tony doesn't have an Iron Man suit (though he does have an arc reactor, since that is similar to something in real life that would keep someone alive, like a pacemaker) but he was rich and powerful at one point, and had a personal digital assistant called Jarvis. So basically things like that are tweaked.
Pretty much all characters will be showing up in the fic, I just don't want to add/reveal them all at once. I wouldn't say this fic is more about any certain character though some may play a bigger part in the fic than others (just like in Oz).
Anyways, I think that is all. Thank you for looking, I hope you read and enjoy, and we will all see if there will be more to this story.
"It's been five years already, huh Jarvis?" A pale hand came up to a watch around a wrist. The clock face was in a strange position, resting on the underside of his left wrist instead of on top like most people wore it. But this was how he liked to wear it, and always had. Pressing a button, a short, sharp electronic beep was emitted. Tony let out a scoff. "Look at me, talking to a wristwatch." The words came out hushed and he could only smile to himself. The man couldn't help it if he missed that hunk of junk AI. But of course, Tony could never let Jarvis know that. No, then he'd never hear the end of it. As amusing as it may have been to pretend his cheap watch was, in fact, Jarvis (albeit a, well, less advanced model), it also saddened him to no end. He'd never hear his voice again and it was all his fault. The same reason why he'd never have his own tower again either.
"Stark." The familiar voice made Tony come out from under his thoughts.
He turned to look to the entrance of the pod from his place sitting upon the bottom bunk. "Time to fetch your new roommate." The voice came from none other than Phil Coulson, the manager for this 'special' section of the prison. In fact, Em City was his whole idea to start. He'd briefed Tony several days ago about being somewhat of a host to a new inmate. This sort of thing always happened when new prisoners came in, but it wasn't very often that they were granted entrance to Em City. Tony had personally never hosted any newcomers, but this time around he was both willing to do so and was deemed fit enough to do so by the higher-ups. He would have to show the new prisoner how it worked here in Em City, for the most part. Standing up, Tony made his way out of the pod and, accompanied by Coulson, headed to where he needed to be.
As Tony approached the small, gated-in area he noticed the fresh prisoners were already there, sitting upon benches with handcuffs holding them fast. Officer Selvig started to give the typical speech of the general rules of Em City and what was to be expected of them there. Stark tuned it out as he scanned the men on the benches on the other side of the white bars between them. Having already been in the dump for five years he knew how things worked there. Six new inmates sat inside the room, spread out between two benches. Most of them were fidgeting slightly while slowly and cautiously glancing about from beneath their brows. As Selvig finished up his talk, Tony entertained himself with guessing who his new podmate may be. There was a bald man who was on the shorter side from the looks of it but was also rather muscular. Next to him sat a blonde who appeared to be acting somewhat strange, gazing off into space, hands perfectly even in their placement atop his knees. The gate separating the new prisoners from their experienced hosts started to clank open as Tony visually examined another man in the sitting lineup. He was a brunette with blue eyes and a slightly furrowed brow. Definitely the look of someone who didn't want to be here. But was there ever a person that wantedto be imprisoned?
"Prisoner Number Twelve-B-Seven-Five-Eight, you are with Stark."
Tony shifted his stance, senses perking at his name being mentioned. When the called man rose Tony noticed he appeared even shorter than he, which somehow made him feel better. It was in fact the man he was last looking at that had risen, the brunette.
"Name's Tony." He said as the man approached.
He handed him his newcomer's bundle consisting of a sheet, pillow, and roll of toilet paper. Tony turned and started to walk away from the area, new roommate in tow.
"Clint.." The man mumbled behind him.
The man leading the way almost came to making a remark about the quietness of the man's voice, or maybe even about his name, but decided against it and kept on his way.
On the way to their pod they passed through the common area on the first floor. Other inmates peered at Clint as they walked by, commenting amongst themselves in their little groups.
"Eh, Tony's got a new bitch." One man said, loud enough for both of them to hear.
Stark didn't seem to react at all as he started up the staircase. Clint said nothing back but caught a glance in their general direction to see a few of them smirking. Just as they got to the second floor a guard called out for a count to be made. This happened a couple times a day and one extra time when new prisoners were getting situated as they were now. Tony leisurely ambled to the front of his pod, lining up next to all the others as they fell in line from their places scattered about Em City. Clint was a few steps behind, a wave of awkwardness overcoming him as he still held his linens and toiletries, unsure if he should go put them down first or just hold them there while he followed suite and stood in the lineup. Seeing a few others still making their way to the line up, he made a decision and turned to the pod behind him and Tony, making his way inside. There wasn't anywhere to put his things except the bed. Once he placed them there he turned back around to face the door and nearly jumped as his name was shouted.
"Barton! Get your ass out here!" An angered guard was standing out in front of the prisoners, right near where he had just been standing.
When the hell had they started taking roll call? Well, this was just his luck. Now attentive, Clint hurried back out to his place in line, the guard staring him down the whole time. His number was repeated once more before the man side-stepped, going down the line to repeat more prisoner numbers. Clint turned to find Tony already gone, along with all the others to his right. 'Oh great...way to start off your time here.' The man thought to himself bitterly. Turning on his heel he headed back into the pod behind him. At least he could get situated and try to relax now.
"Hey faggot, you lost?" A tall, heavily-inked man stood by the sink, arms folded.
Well, that certainly wasn't Tony. It was then he realized he was in the wrong cell. He felt like an idiot, especially seeing that the walls to the pods were see-through. To be fair, there wasa bright glare when looking from the outside in. Barton stood there a moment, looking more annoyed than scared, at least at the moment. Letting out a breath, he said nothing, eyes leaving the man as he started for his things on the bottom bed. Before he could get to them the larger man took a single step towards the bed and toppled Clint's things over onto the floor with a swipe of his arm. "I asked you a question. What you doin' in my pod?" The man, who stood at a good six feet or so, took a step forward to step between Clint and his belongings. Barton stopped, pure annoyance on his features as he glanced up at the man.
"Just le-" He started to speak but was abruptly interrupted.
"Goose, he's with me, cut the shit." Tony was in the doorway to the pod looking casual with one hand up on the doorframe.
Clint turned to view him before looking back to the man before him. A strange look appeared on the taller man's face as he eyed Tony. They seemed as though they were having some sort of secret conversation solely through subtle facial expressions and eye movements. There was certainly something Stark had over the guy because soon enough Goose stepped back and glared down at Clint. "Move your fuckin' ass, huh?" The male felt a bit better now, as if Tony had his back. Though in a place like this, that wasn't always a good thing. He cautiously gathered his things from the floor, watching the bigger man from the corner of his vision as he did so, before turning and leaving the pod, Tony moving out of the way as he did so. Clint watched him stop and give the man in the cell what he assumed was one last look, which he couldn't see, before turning and moving away. This time the newcomer waited to watch which pod his host went into before he headed into another one. When he did, Clint followed and was glad to see no one else in there. His dark-haired cellmate was at the sink, looking in the mirror and scratching at something on his face. At this point all he wanted to do was lie down and not think of anything. Facing the bunk beds he started lowering his things onto the bottom bunk.
"Hey, no no no. That's mine, you're up top, pal." Came Tony's voice.
He was glancing at Clint through the reflection in the mirror. 'Christ, can I catch a break anytime soon?' A rash of heat washed over him, both from rising anger and slight embarrassment. Tossing his things, for what he hoped would be the final time, atop the higher bunk he proceeded to climb up after them. With a dull thud he rolled himself over on top of the unmade mattress and stared at the ceiling above him. He had so many questions running through his mind but he purposefully tried to ignore them, opting rather to just blank out and rest. But he wasn't even sure if he would be able to rest in this place, at least not with the doors open to everyone like they were right now. Even if they were locked, he wasn't sure if he could trust this Tony fellow he was celled with. The man had barely spoke and what was that whole situation with him and the prisoner next pod over? Who knows what the guy had done to get in here. Nevertheless, Clint proceeded to close his eyes. 'Just a moment's rest..'He promised himself. He wasn't very good at keeping these kind of promises.
"So, Cliff was it? What were you innocent of to land yourself in here?" Tony quipped, now combing his hair at the sink as he glanced up to catch a view of Barton in the mirror's reflection.
No answer came from the younger male, but it didn't bother him much and he went back to grooming himself, whistling quietly as he did so. On the top bunk Clint lie there motionless having drifted off into a light rest. It wasn't exactly by choice, but there was nothing he could do now. He'd get used to the schedule of Em City soon enough. In the meantime, he'd only have to focus on surviving.