Tony opened his eyes. Blank. Thoughts rushed through his head. Where am I? Why can't I see?
"Tony?"
He jolted his head towards the voice, searching but not seeing.
"Tony? Just... Stay calm, alright? We got you. We saved you. You're okay," it said. He registered the oice as...
"Steve?" he asked, whimpering.
Suddenly, his memories crushed him.
"Tony! It's okay. I'm here. You aren't alone."
Blind. Steve. Tortured. Avengers. Reactor. Family. Alone. Alive.
"He's dead. Hammer's dead and he can't get you," Tony heard Steve's voice, firm and comforting.
"Not... Hammer."
"Tony? What do you mean?"
"Wasn't... Hammer."
"Tony. Tony! If you know something, you need to tell me!"
"Eyes... Wasn't Hammer."
"Tony? What about his eyes? Tony? TONY!"

Steve's words were the last he heard before being swept back into the abyss.

Steve ran a hand through his hair. What had Tony meant by 'eyes'? Hammer had looked murderous, but that was about it. He remember how he looked...
"Dammit," he muttered, pulling out his cell phone. He dialed Natasha, only to have Bruce pick up.
"Steve? What's up? Does Tony need more anesthetics?"
"Bruce. I need you to ask Natasha what color Hammer's eyes are," he said briskly, leaving the room.
"Steve, they're -"
"Just put her on the line, please."
"Okay, okay."
"Thank you..."
"What do you need Rogers?" he heard, tone void of emotion.
"I need you to tell me what color Hammer's eyes were."
"You do know that you can look it up in the file -"
"Just tell me."
"Dark hazel. Why?"
"Tony was right. Dang it. He was right"
"What are you going on about, Captain? What did Stark say?
"It wasn't Hammer. When we caught him. Ask Bruce what color eyes he had."
"Bruce. What color were Hammer's eyes?"
Steve heard Bruce in the background. "Blue... Why?"
She cursed in a multitude of languages.
"I'm on my way."

Natasha slammed the 'drop call' button and dropped the phone on the table.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked, wary.

She flipped around, eye burning with fury.

"Hammer wasn't Hammer. Not really. You said his eyes were blue, right?"

"Yes..."

She brought up a file on the holoscreens. It was Hammer's file, with a profile image that answered his question.

"Oh. That's what's wrong."

"Yes," she hissed, pacing savagely.

"So, what, he was under someone else's control?

Clang.

They both jumped at the sound, turning to face the door. Natasha cocked the gun she had whipped out. It opened to show Steve, who walked in without any of his usual warmth.

"I'm going to assume you have come to the same conclusion I have?" he asked in the voice of a drill sergeant. This was Captain Rogers, not Steve.

"Hammer was under the control of another, most likely someone yielding the Tessaract," Natasha said, putting her gun away.

Bruce snorted. "I doubt he fought it."

"Probably not," said Steve, flicking his eyes to where Bruce was and back.

"So it's more than just Hammer we're dealing with. And they're most likely going to come back for Stark," Natasha muttered before pacing again.

"I guess it's time to play detective then, isn't it?" asked Steve, a cold smirk slithering its way to his face.

"I guess it is," Bruce replied.

Tony woke to a room of silence, the only exception being the beeping of machines and the pounding of his heart. He didn't bother opening his eyes, knowing he would only find darkness. He would fix this. He would. He had done it last time, and he could do it again. But first, adjusting.

He tugged at his body, seeing what was attached and casted and what was not. He was surprised to find only a mound of stitches, an IV and a cast on his left wrist. Pulling the IV out of his arm, he swung his feet to the side of the bed, finding himself light-headed when he got up. He slowly pushed himself up, stumbling and catching onto what felt like a bedside table. He heaved himself off the bed, most of his weight shifting to the table. A deep breath in, a deep breath out. Once he didn't feel so dizzy, he poked his toe out to find any objects in his way. Finding none, he took a step, clinging to his little table. Okay, he could walk. That was good. He repeated the process of feel, step, cling until he reached the end of the table. Taking another few deep breaths, he took a step and let go. Walking on his own, he headed straight forward until he poke a wall with his toe. Placing a hand on it, he began to outline the room, taking in everything he could feel. The door clicked open, and Tony jumped, falling to the ground with a pained yelp. That hurt.

"Fallen comrade! What ails you now? Shall I go request help?" he heard Thor boom into his ear before picking him up off of the ground.

"No, thank you, Thor. Just... Bring me back to bed," he said, trying not to wince as Thor jostled his stomach where most of the stitches were.

"Of course, friend," Thor said, voice noticeably quieter than before.

If Tony had been a his best, he would have cracked a joke about being put to bed by the god, but for now he was grateful.

"Rest, Anthony," Thor said before tucking the hospital blanket around Tony and quietly shutting the door.

OKAY. BAM. DONE. I FINALLY UPDATED. ARE YOU PLEASED?

So, this is really short. I know this. But I plan to update way more often now. I had to leave this alone because I didn't know what to do next. Now, I do. So YAY.

ANYWAYS. I really hoped you liked it. I tried my best with this. Please leave a review telling me what I can improve on.

This story is currently unbeta'd, so any mistakes or inconsistencies are mine and mine alone.

I plan to edit this later after it's finished.

As always, I LOVE YOU ALL AND PLEASE REVIEW.

~BreezyForever