Tony woke to murmured Russian in his ear. He liked waking up like that. It was his favorite way to wake up, and he rolled towards the voice, arm hitting the hard surface beneath him. Wait, hard surface? His eyes flew open, he saw Natasha, he was expecting that, but he was not expecting the steel walls and small room he found them in.
"We've been taken." Natasha said softly in Russian. Tony could speak it fluently, thankfully, and he understood her words.
Early on in their relationship they started sharing a bed. Well, Natasha would sneak in sometime in the middle of the night and Tony would wake to soft words in the morning. It soon changed in that she would go to bed with him, but she always woke him with softly spoken Russian. It became a sort of secret language for them, the only other Avenger who spoke it well was Clint, and Natasha did not mind him knowing what she said.
They were left to case out their small cell for a few hours, the only things in there was a door on one wall and a small television affixed to the ceiling corner, well out of reach for both of them. It was turned off, and Tony could not puzzle out what it was for. Not that he had time, Natasha grabbed him and dragged him back from the door just in time for it to open. Two bulky men, toting large and frankly impressive firearms, barged in, closing in the already small space. One pointed at Tony and fired off something in a language Tony could only dimly place. His lover moved in front of him and responded in the same language, fluently. There was a conversation that went way over Tony's head, and ended with Natasha turning to him and squeezing his hand.
"Stay here. And don't give in." She whispered to him, again in Russian, before pulling away and letting the two men take her. He tried to puzzle out her words, where else would he go? They'd locked the door behind them.
They had talked about death. Of course they had, with the kind of lives they lead. They made promises, vows and exchanged plans on how to deal with either situation if it should arise. Secretly, neither one expected the other to be the first to go. They each expected themselves. Each discussion was headed by a steady sense of disbelief and an equal amount of realism.
He soon found out what the TV was for, and he sincerely wished he hadn't. A direct feed into where ever they held Natasha, it wasn't bad at first. Until the torture began. And her words started to make 't give in, she had said. It was light at first, stuff he knew even he could handle. Natasha had quickly found the camera in the room and kept her gaze on it, despite everything. Until they brought the tasers in. And Tony admitted to himself, later, he had nearly broken. Nearly given in, watching her body jerk involuntarily. It seemed like it last for days, but he realized it couldn't have been more than a few hours. The feed cut out and Tony panicked. But then their captors returned and tossed his lover into their shared cell.
Cuddles were a common thing for them. At least around the Tower. They always seemed to touch each other, some way. Some contact. For two people as tactile as they were, it was a big deal. Movie nights found them curled up together on a loveseat. After a big battle, the team would found them curled up somewhere rather public, usually the main living room couch. In the bedroom they held each other through night terrors and flashbacks. Touch, and the trust that both came with it and was a prerequisite for it, was such a huge thing for them. Neither had backgrounds that were overly tactile, and so they made up for it together.
Tony did his best to make his lover comfortable on the hard floor. He held her, cradled her head in his lap, and sat in silence while she gathered herself. He hated that he could do nothing for the twitching from the tasers, he hated the whole situation. He started to card his hands through her hair, losing himself in the feel of it. He was startled when she spoke.
"Promise me." Natasha started, Tony could read her, tell she was in pain. But she always hid it admirably. "Promise me you won't give in. You won't give them what they want. They want you to build weapons, and you can't do that. Whatever happens, whatever they do. Don't give in." Her voice was soft, and the Russian flowed so perfectly. He always loved hearing her speak it, but the current situation was much too grave for him to enjoy it.
"I can't." He responded softly. He shook his head, he couldn't. She tilted her head to look him in the face. He shivered at the look on her face. "Alright." He finally acquiesced. Their cell door banged open and he helped Natasha to her feet.
As a group one evening they got to discussing the afterlife. After all, each had their own opinion on the matter. That was, until Thor explained. He had personally seen to it that each and every Avenger had a place in Valhalla, and then went to great lengths to explain what Valhalla was. Steve seemed a little apprehensive on the matter, Thor had already upturned his entire belief system. But Thor was so enthusiastic, he eventually joined in on the whole thing.
Tony wanted to scream, he wanted to fight, he wanted to do anything to prevent what he knew was coming. He hated having to watch as they dragged his lover away, he hated his captors at that moment more than he had ever hated anyone in his life. He could do nothing but helplessly watch as the TV flicked on and it started. Hours of it, and he couldn't bear to look away. She was doing this for him, and he didn't deserve it, and he damned himself for each and every moment. Hours of it, and it began to dawn on Tony that even Natasha couldn't handle much more. He started screaming at the television, slamming his fists against the wall. He was watching his lover die and there was nothing he could do, he'd promised, and he never broke them with her. He went still and silent the moment she started screaming. They'd broken her calm, and he felt sick. He slid to the floor and watched the screen dumbly. Eventually they stopped, and distantly Tony knew, even then, it wasn't soon enough. They left her strung to the wall, and moments later he heard her speak. He had to strain to hear it, but he was not going to miss her words.
"Don't blame yourself. This … isn't your fault." She paused, and Tony held his breath. And then he heard the last part. The soft spoken Russian he nearly missed, the words they often exchanged with each other. "I love you." And she went still after that. On the grainy television screen he could not even tell if she was breathing. It stayed that way for hours, his searching of the screen for movement, any movement, before the feed finally cut. Moments later her limp body was tossed into the cell, and he nearly tripped over himself to catch her. Deep in his heart he knew,, but he searched for a pulse anyway. He choked back a sob and cradled her head in his lap once more, returning to carding his hand through her hair.
Love was not an easy thing for either of them. Relationships even less. But somehow, some way, they worked. But Tony always expected he would go first, he knew Natasha was strong, she'd move on. He'd never prepared himself for the likelihood of being left behind. With her enhanced body and her skills, he always expected her to outlive him.
The team found them like that, hours later. Steve was the first one in, and he just knew. The dull look in Tony's eyes, the tear tracks down his face. He closed his eyes in despair, barely even noticing Bruce brush past him. Bruce did a customary check, only because he wasn't about to leave anything to chance. And then he turned to focus on Tony.
"Tony, look at me." Bruce demanded, and was rewarded with Tony's confused stare. As if he'd only noticed Bruce. "Tony, you need to let go." He coaxed gently, grasping Tony's wrist where he was clutching Natasha's shoulder. He waved Steve over, and the supersoldier realized what was needed.
"No, Bruce, she's …" He loosened his grip anyway, and Bruce moved aside so that Steve could take her body. "No!" Abruptly he reached out towards Steve, but Bruce grabbed his hands.
"Tony, it's over, it's time to go home." He said softly, standing and trying to coax Tony to his feet. In the end, between Clint and Thor, they got Tony moving, leaving Steve with the solemn duty of carrying Natasha. Halfway to the quinjet Tony started a litany of no's, as if coming back to himself. Bruce secretly wished Tony had stayed out of it a little longer. Returning home did not hold the joy it usually did, and Bruce ended up drugging Tony to settle him down. With heavy hearts, the rest of the team went about taking care of things. No one relished having to re-explain to Tony when he woke up, and the team nearly broke with Tony.