Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel.

Normal speech "hello"

Thoughts hello

Death speaking "hello"

Death speaking telepathically hello

Tony's POV

Tony woke up with a start, his eyes flying open, groaning as the pounding in his head increased tenfold. The last thing I remember, he thought, is someone breaking into the Stark Industries meeting room during the budget meeting - that settles it, no matter how angry Pepper gets, I'm never doing any more work, it's clearly a horrible idea. He forced his eyes open, struggling to sit up as he pulled at the ropes tying his wrists together behind his back.

He glanced around, rapidly processing his surroundings, large room, concrete, no windows – maybe underground? he considered – steel reinforced bars, no visible cameras, but he could see a small glass window in the only visible door.

"Tony, you're awake." He twisted around to look at Clint who was, unlike him, manacled to the wall. Clint was slumped against the wall, his expression blank but hopelessness clouding his eyes.

"What happened, and where are we?" he asked, trying not to panic as being tied up brought up uncomfortable memories of Afghanistan - cavestortureYinsen.

No, he thought, pushing those memories to the back of his mind. He looked around, horrified realization curling around his heart when he saw her. They hurt Natasha, he thought numbly, they tortured her, tortured my teammate. He kept his expression calm, if their captors found out he had a soft spot for the only woman on their team, they would only hurt her more, he knew.

"Where's Bruce?" he demanded in a harsh whisper.

"Bruce and Steve are drugged up to the gills and Nat..." Clint trailed off.

"What do they want?" he asked, examining the bruises decorating Clint's face and arms.

Bitterness clouded Clint's voice as he replied, "The Tesseract, of course. The same thing all the bad guys seem to want nowadays."

"Any way we can bust out of here?" he asked with only faint hope.

"Not as far as I can tell."

He felt a scowl twist his lips, breaking through the nonchalant mask he wore. There was no way, he thought pointedly, no way he could let his team, his family be tortured to death, not for some stupid glowing cube of energy. He twisted to look at his watch; it was already noon, so they had to get out now, before anything worse happened to his team. He had hoped to let go of his past but it was the only way.

"I'm going to get us out of here, Clint"

"Tony!" Clint's voice was alarmed, "What are you doing?"

He ignored everything around him as he closed his eyes, calling for help from Him. From Death.

Some titles were truer than others, he knew, just as some names had power.

Distantly, he registered the harsh footfalls of a pair of guards entering the room. There was no time to hesitate, for the lives of his family were at stake.

"Your Merchant calls for your aid, Death, please." he pleaded softly, head bowed down.

There was a soft chuckle at the back of his mind, a surge of dark power flowing through his veins. He felt the unsettling sensation of being relegated to observing as someone else took over his body. The last thing he heard was the squeal of the gate to his cell opening as a familiar darkness overtook him.