Tick
There it was again… that clock, the one I couldn't see, the one I could only hear.
Tock
It'll keep going like this, slowly but so loudly all through the night. It's just a reminder that I've only got so much time left. Twelve hours to be exact. In twelve hours, the bomb in this room will go off and I'll be nothing more than well done zombie chow. Maybe Steve was right… I really am nothing without my suit.
Tick
The seconds seem to be dragging on now. Maybe I'm just blocking out the sounds. I suppose this is the point when I reminisce about how I got here. I remember leaving a restaurant; Steve had stood me up or something, I finally got tired of waiting. I was heading out to my car, already calling Steve to leave an angry voicemail that he'd never be able to receive—he can barely text, how on earth is he supposed to be able to check the voicemail—when I felt something pick my neck. Things went black from there. I'm not having a good night.
Tock
I'd like to say I don't know how long I've been here, but I actually have a pretty good idea; when I woke up, tied to this chair I'm sitting in, the clock on that bomb said 18 hours. Therefore, I've been here at least six. Had anyone noticed I was missing? If they had, did anyone care?
Tick
My everything is falling asleep. Trying to stretch resulted in my falling to the floor, where I can do nothing by stare at the bomb that is going to take my life. It says 8 hours now… either the time is going much faster than I think, or I somehow read a digital 10 as an 18… either one is likely right now. I probably have a concussion and am really hoping that the 8 I'm seeing isn't actually a 0 and I have less than an hour left. That too is pretty likely right now.
Tock
I'm going to die.
Tick
I'm not okay with this, but I'll deal with it.
Tock
I just wish I could have told Steve…
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
"Tony?" The door was located in the opposite direction of where I was facing; despite my attempts to look up and see who was speaking to me, I couldn't make my neck turn that way… actually, I'm pretty okay with that, as it means my neck isn't broken.
"Steve?" My voice is hoarse; my theory of time suddenly going faster seems to have more credence now. "Over here…"
"Yes, I can see where you are." The chair I was in was up-righted and I found myself looking into the worried blue eyes of Captain America. He placed a hand on my cheek, frowning slightly. "What did those bastards do to you…"
"You have no idea how happy I am to have no memory whatsoever." He smiled. I love that smile. He also chuckled and shook his head. Those actions I could often do without, but since he was now cutting me free, I would forego my dislike. "Hey, there's a bomb over there." Steve nodded.
"Yeah, I've noticed that; it's got a few hours left, Nick's sending an expert in to take care of it." He helped me to stand up, holding my face in his hands. "I'm sorry I was late to dinner. I went to the wrong restaurant…" I blinked a couple times.
"The wrong restaurant?"
"Yeah; I went to The Strand West instead of The Strand East. Sorry." My face was still in his hands. "Are you alright?" I took his face in my hands and kissed him. At that moment, it didn't matter that someone had kidnapped me and I didn't know who or why. It didn't matter that I felt like a complete failure and insecure about my own abilities. All that mattered was that Steve came to get me. And he was completely amazing with his tongue.
We broke the kiss a moment later. I was grinning. He was grinning. And chuckling and shaking his head. I didn't mind it as much that time.
"You're alright then?" he asked, running a hand through my hair.
"Thanks to you," I replied. "My hero."