Fury had gathered them in what had become known as the Avenger's Conference Room. The team sat in their usual seats, trying desperately not to focus on the empty chair at the end of the table, the one that was usually filled with their resident billionaire. When the director walked in no one said a word in greeting and Bruce only spoke to demand to know what was going on. Without a word, Fury threw a photo onto the table for the others to see.
Bruce took one glance and had to walk away from the table, gritting his teeth and mentally begging the other guy to rein it in for just another moment; he needed all the facts before he hulked out. Steve cursed under his breath and also stood, beginning to pace back and forwards, rubbing his chin. Clint and Natasha both closed their eyes and the red head automatically felt for the archer's hand to grip while Thor went pale, as still as the others had ever seen him. Eventually, once Bruce felt his heart rate begin to slow again, he spoke.
"Who did this?" The strain was audible in his tone but the others could hardly blame him; the friendship between the scientists was well know and the doctor required more control than most.
"We don't know. After a long conversation with JARVIS we were able to determine roughly when Tony last left the tower."
"Why couldn't JARVIS just tell you?" Steve looked puzzled.
"Tony's an idiot who thought it would be a good idea to take off but not before ordering JARVIS to keep his whereabouts a secret," the doctor told him, irritation for his friend brewing. When he next saw the billionaire he was going to punch him.
Despite his best efforts the doctor felt his eyes trailing back to the photo on the table, taking in the shadowy picture of his friend and wincing when he saw again the state he was in. There was a gash above his eye that had left a trail of blood down his face, his lip was split and multiple bruises covered his face and exposed torso. His hands were behind his back, presumably tied to the chair he was sat on. The confused, disorientated expression on Tony's face combined with the obvious evidence of a beating made it clear that he had a concussion. The most horrifying detail though was the gaping hole in his chest where the arc reactor should be, replaced by live wires without rubber casing, leaving the copper strands bare and unprotected. It looked like it was more likely to kill him than save him.
"So we know when he was taken," he bit out slowly, his voice low and dangerous. "How exactly does that help us?" Fury, for the first time, looked completely helpless. They had nothing to go on.
"Director Fury, a video call is coming through for you," a nameless female voice over the intercom said softly. Thor and Steve both jumped, still not completely alright with the modern technology and already on edge.
"The council?" He asked in surprise, ignoring the team for a moment.
"No Sir, an unidentified source."
"Then why are you telling me? Field it to someone who isn't busy," he snapped irritated. For a moment the line was silent, probably while the poor agent gathered her courage.
"Sir... They are claiming to have Tony Stark."
When Tony woke up he immediately wished that he could fall asleep again. His head pounded viciously, far worse than any hangover he had ever had – and that was saying something. Everything was stiff, as though he hadn't moved in a while and there was a sharp tugging pain at his wrists that he knew meant that he was bound to something; which also explained the incessant aching in his shoulders.
'What have you done this time Tony?' He questioned himself in a mental voice that sounded not unlike Pepper's. 'Who else have you pissed off?' That wasn't something he could answer quickly so he ignored the voice and tried to pay attention to what his body was telling – screaming at – him.
He cracked his eyes open to try and work out where he was but the light felt like knives being driven into his skull and he slammed his lids closed again with a groan. Moving had been a mistake and his head throbbed in time with his heart while his stomach lurched uncomfortably.
"Back with us, Mr Stark?" A cold voice said quietly, off to the side. The billionaire tried to find the strength to swear at him but the effort was too much and his stomach rebelled. He tried to lean over as he dry heaved painfully – he hadn't eaten in so long that there was nothing left to come up – his stomach convulsing and churning while he gagged helplessly. He groaned again when the spasms stopped and the voice chuckled. "I do apologise for your... condition. The concussion was not planned."
"Go fuck yourself," he spat as he panted, still trying to regain his breath. He twisted around again so that his weight was centred over the chair he was tied to, forcing himself to open his eyes to look around and try and work out where he was.
"So confrontational. It's really very rude," the voice said again lightly, as though they were having a casual conversation about the weather. Tony growled.
"Who the hell are you?" The billionaire glared in the direction the voice was coming from; in the shadowed room he couldn't only just make out the figure of a man. Apart from that the space appeared to be empty – it was more than a little creepy.
"That isn't important."
"The hell it isn't. Who are you and why did you bring me here?" Whilst he spoke he strained at the bindings that held him there until pain lanced up his forearm. Shit, what part of him wasn't injured? He cursed softly.
"You would do well to remain still."
"I rarely do anything that would be good for me. Ask my friends. They'll be here any minute now." He tried to sound confident of this fact but in his head he could hear Steve's voice saying how he shouldn't be part of the team.
'Why should the great Captain America give a damn about what happens to a little, insignificant shit like me? Hell knows my father didn't care and he was a blood relation. Steve Rogers couldn't care less about my well being.' He wasn't really sure why he was torturing himself; the way this situation was going his captors would do enough of that for him.
"I don't think your friends will be able to make it, I'm afraid," the voice informed him, sounding positively gleeful. "We're not that easy to find you see."
"Well, they're pretty good at what they do. I'm sure they'll manage." The nameless voice laughed.
"I hope you keep that optimism, it'll make this all so much more entertaining." The billionaire struggled valiantly to fight off the shiver that crawled up his spine but he couldn't help it; it didn't sound like this conversation was going anywhere pleasant.
"Can you at least give me something to call you? 'The voice' is getting a little old." His captor chuckled softly.
"Very well, you may call me Quaru."
"That's a bit of a mouthful," Tony observed. Now that he'd had a minute, his thoughts were realigning and he was able to make more sense of things. "Mind if I stick with Q?"
"If it makes you feel more comfortable."
"Yeah the bindings and the concussion told me all about how my comfort is your main concern." Q chuckled again, sounding genuinely amused instead of just ominous.
"That mouth will be the death of you."
"So I've been told."
"I've always imagined that a superhero's downfall would be his heart. They always care too much. It makes them weak," Q spat at him, suddenly switching to angry and dangerous; Tony struggled to follow the rapid mood swing.
"I'm not much of a superhero."
"No, maybe not. But your heart is still your weakness," Quaru mused, sounding like he was smiling before he called out to someone Tony couldn't see in a language he didn't speak. Suddenly there were men at either side of him, poking at the reactor clearly visible in his bare chest. He flinched away from their probing fingers but there was nowhere to run and he started panicking, thrashing about and shouting.
When the glowing piece of metal was pried from its casing, he felt a chill run through him and he went completely still.
'Oh god, no. No, not like this. Please, oh god.' His thoughts ended up as incoherent pleas as his mind began to drift, vision darkening until he couldn't see anything at all.
When he came to it was to the sight of the all too familiar wires snaking out of his chest and the notable absence of blue light. He had to take a moment to remind himself not to cry. Apart from the obvious lack of a reactor he didn't seem to have obtained any further injury, although his neck ached from the position he had been slumped in.
"Whatever you want with my reactor, I can guarantee that you won't get it," he bit out after taking a moment to compose himself. It might have looked like he was talking to thin air but he somehow knew that Quaru was still in the room.
"Maybe I don't want anything from it."
"That would make taking it a very pointless endeavour."
"I could have been proving a point to you."
"Then it was still a pointless endeavour. I remain unenlightened." Tony was trying his very best to remain calm and composed but his eyes kept straying back to the wires dangling from his chest and each time his mind was teleported back to a cave in the mountains with a long gone friend's voice talking him through it. But not this time. Now he was alone.
"I think that it made it clear who is in charge here Mr Stark."
"You kidnapped me, took my shirt and tied me to a chair. It was pretty damn clear."
"And yet you still can't watch that mouth of yours..." Q lamented with faux sadness. Tony growled wordlessly as he watched a mammoth of a man stride towards him with clenched fists. "I guess we'll just have to help you with that."
The beating was short but merciless. By the end Tony's vision was a mix of dancing spots and his head pounded so badly that it took him several minutes to realise that Q was talking again. The billionaire ignored him, trying to get his thoughts together. His ribcage was aching from the blows it had suffered and he was winded, panting to breathe while blood dripped from his split lip and the gash above his eyebrow – the bastard was wearing a ring that had torn through the skin easily.
While he was dozing, trying to regain his confidence he thought he heard the click of a camera but through the blood pounding in his ears it was hard to tell. When he came back around he wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed. Quaru was still there, lingering in the shadows like a bad smell.
"I think it's time to see your friends again, don't you?" Tony had to spit out some blood before he was able to talk.
"What are you talking about?" His voice slurred dangerously; his mind wasn't keeping up too well with the conversation.
Q stepped forwards into the light cast by the single light bulb above the billionaire, gesturing to a stand that had been placed a few metres in front of him that held a small screen and a crude video camera.
"Now, be on your best behaviour Mr Stark."
With the press of a button, the screen flickered into life and even the dazed billionaire perked up a bit when he saw an image of the team and Fury swim into view.
"Tony!" Bruce sounded like he was on the verge of hulking out. The billionaire smiled in genuine relief, determined to focus on the doctor and ignoring the muscled figure of Steve in the background; that was a problem he really didn't have the strength to face right now.
"Are you alright?" The director looked as close to worried as Tony had ever seen him.
"I've been better," he replied but he said it with his trademark grin – or as close as he could get with a split lip. Off to the side, out of view of the camera Q scoffed. "Feel free to introduce yourself Quaru," the billionaire said, making the effort to make sure that the name was audible. It was probably fake but he was determined to give the team anything he could if it meant getting out of this hell hole.
Someone else stepped out of the shadows and Tony blacked out for a second as he was brutally pistol whipped, his head snapping to the side. There were shouts of protest from the screen as the billionaire glared at the man that had hit him.
"Tony?"
"Still here. I don't think these guys like me," he deadpanned.
"No shit," Clint replied, but his voice didn't sound quite as sarcastic as usual, levelled with the seriousness of the situation.
"That's enough chatter I think," Q announced quietly. He clicked at the man who had hit Tony and said something in that foreign language. "Time to get to business. I believe that Stark here is familiar with how this works. You give me what I want and he doesn't suffer." The billionaire's heart was racing, slamming painfully against bruised ribs but he kept his face emotionless and calm; had he been able he would have feigned casualness but he couldn't quite do it.
'Come on Tony, get it together. You can do this. You can do this.' He repeated it like a mantra.
"And what is it you want?" Steve sounded thoroughly furious, madder than Tony had ever seen but the billionaire only looked at the soldier for a moment before he diverted his gaze back to Bruce.
"My... sources informed me of the weapons that S.H.I.E.L.D produced before the invasion in New York. HYDRA weapons. My associates and I would benefit from such tech." The billionaire felt bile rise in his throat and not simply from the disgust at the man talking. He knew what those demands would mean; Fury couldn't just hand over the weapons which wasn't exactly good news for the ongoing survival of one Tony Stark.
'You can do this.'
"I can't do that." Fury didn't look at him, wouldn't meet Tony's eyes. Quaru just laughed softly as the henchman he had sent away earlier carried in a massive basin – helped by several others – and placed it between the billionaire and the screen.
"Such a shame. I really was hoping that you'd just agree and save me from having to do this."
Tony didn't say a word, couldn't, even if he wanted to. As soon as the basin had been put down he had been given an uninterrupted view at its contents: water. With ice floating in it. He could practically feel the cold emanating from the pool and he shuddered. He knew that his face had gone pale and there was probably someone trying to catch his attention but all he could see was the water and oh god this was just like before.
His chest would spark in the water, burning him. The ice would burn down his throat and settle in his lungs until the muscles went numb and even when they pulled him from the water he wouldn't be able to breathe.
'You can do this. You can do this.' The billionaire looked down at the water again, letting the memories wash over him in crushing waves, terror tearing apart his heart and laying everything he was out to be observed.
'Oh Tony,' a voice in his head murmured. 'No you really can't.'
Mwahaha. Thanks for all the support :) You rock.