Heyya, new chapter, don't know what to write here, enjoy :)

3 Days previous

Tony was bored, and fuming as he stalked the corridors of the Helicarrier. He wanted nothing better than to twang Fury's eyepatch back into his eye socket. The man was unbelievable. Accusing him of being a dead weight on Sheild, when in actual fact the secret organisation would be crawling on the ground if it weren't for him. Fury didn't realise how much Tony did for Shield, and the man threatening with replacing him obviously didn't realise it. The nerve of it.

Eventually he arrived at the lab, where he knew Bruce would be. Striding in, he held his head aloft- to show that he was perfectly fine. The smell of boiling chemicals and burning metals was astronomical as it flooded his nostrils. He made a quick mental note telling him to sort out a new air filtering system for the Helicarrier- or maybe even just a new Helicarrier full stop- this one was a dump.

He caught sight of his friend fiddling with a whiteboard marker as he scuttled over to him; itching to try out all of the equipment, and tamper with it. But first he wanted to blow off some steam, before Fury returned and pissed him off any more.

"Hey." Bruce said, not looking up from the whiteboard where he was now scribbling down the numerous equations and formulas.

"Hey." Tony replied. He sounded perfectly fine, but he knew Bruce would be able to see straight through it.

"Fury?" Bruce questioned, still not looking up from the board.

"Yep." Bruce smiled as Tony let out a long sigh. "The stupid bald man with that stupid eye patch. Why does he even have that eyepatch?"

"Anyone would have thought you don't like him." Bruce grinned as Tony snorted, surveying Bruce's workings.

"He's such a git though. He has the nerve to question my ability as an Avenger- admittedly I'm no where near as good as you, or Steve, or Natasha or Clint, or Thor, but still- when he already knows full well that- Woops." Tony looked up to see an annoyed Fury standing in the door way, hands on his hips and one eye glaring at Tony. Tony felt his body tense.

He quickly looked away in attempt to cover his tracks. "Yeah Bruce, this equation here is wrong? See?" He said quickly, trying to cover his tracks. It wasn't wrong at all, but he just need a scape goat. He glanced up a Fury, not making eye contact but still registering the mans brutal stare.

"Yes Nicholas?" Tony sighed, turning again towards Fury, who was now breathing heavily through his nose like a bull about to charge.

"Nothing" the man replied, turning and swishing his coat, not unlike Dracula. Tony blinked at the now empty space in the doorway, surprised, and a little nervous.

He turned back to Bruce who had stopped working, who was also scowling at the doorway.

"Well Tony," he sighed, going back to his calculator "I think you're in shit." Tony was about to reply when a woman spoke over the Helicarrier speakers.

"All Avengers to report to meeting room 2b, all Avengers report to meeting room 2b." The speaker fizzled and cracked as the message ended, followed by a loud clunk as the woman put down the com.

"Black Sabbath was definitely better." Tony pointed out and Bruce nodded as they made their way towards the part of the ship that was dedicated entirely to meeting rooms.

"What were you working on anyway? Looked big." Tony said, trying to strike conversation.

"Oh, nothing." Bruce replied half-heartedly. Tony narrowed his eyes as he thought of a reason why Bruce wasn't being entirely helpful, or at least tell him what he was up to.

"There must be something I can help with? Seriously though, what're you working on? If its a drug that'll make Clint stop snoring that's great." Tony grinned as he prodded the scientist who shrugged it off. Underneath the smile, Tony was scowling heavily.

"No, nothing like that." Bruce smiled weakly at his friends attempt to make him talk.

"Please Bruce! Let me help! Shield aren't letting me do anything with anything! Christ, I have to hack into the bloody computer to see what's for lunch!" Tony sighed as he stared at his shoes. He wasn't lying, Shield weren't telling him anything. They were keeping him in the dark, like a bomb that could detonate at any moment. Guilt gripped Bruce and tied his stomach in a knot, so he also glanced at his shoes.

"I'm working on a cure for a bug- a stomach bug- it's being contained in Malaysia at the moment, but there's fear it might spread."

"Well... I can help with that! Do you need funding? I can get Jarvis to run some schematics and-"

"Trust me Tony, I've got this." Bruce assured him. Though Tony didn't believe him one hundred percent. The two men clambered into yet another corridor and began to walk along, stopping as they reached room 2b.

Glancing at each other, they pushed the heavy door open, and Tony's eyes fell upon Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Thor, all of whom were already seated around the table. He sighed heavily as he made his way towards his seat. The look on Steve's face told him that he knew about the argument between him and Fury that had taken place earlier.

Nobody said anything as the team sat there, waiting for Fury to arrive. Tony scanned the room, surveying his surroundings and team mates expressions, and jumped as he heard the door handle click and swing open with Fury and Coulson standing in the door way.

"Stark, a word?" Coulson directed at Tony, of whom felt five pairs of eyes draw on him.

Oh God, he thought to himself What have I done now?

"Why?" He asked, seeing Fury's eye narrow as it turned on him.

"Mr Stark..." Coulson started to speak but Tony had already cut him off.

"No, Mr Coulson, I want to know why I'm always getting treated like that kid the teacher hates, or the least favourite pet that the owners feel too guilty to get rid of. I want to know why I have to find everything out for myself, anything to do with Shield until I hack into the server; then only to get yelled at. It's like you don't even want me here." He frowned as he saw Steve's, Clint's, Natasha's, Bruce's and Thor's face, each one frowning back at him. He scowled as his eyes met Fury's, whose expression told no lies.

Standing up coolly, he announced "Fine then, Clint, see you at the party yeah? Shield can go stuff it. Fury, shove your eyepatch up your crack. I'm going.", then, he shouldered Fury as he stormed from the room. Turning around again, eyeing Fury fiercely, he added "and I never want Shields help again- you've been nothing but a pain ever since you showed up on my doorstep. Fuck you."

He was beside himself as he promised to make Fury's life a living hell. He would still be an Avenger, he'd still be living in Stark Tower with the other Avengers- but he sure as hell wasn't going to be playing by Fury's rules anymore.

Tony grasped at the thin woollen jacket he had draped over his shoulders, pulling it tighter around him. Oh how he wished he hadn't said those things. He wished he hadn't of stormed out.

His arm and hand let out a whimper of protest as he flopped on to his side, trying to keep warm. His breath was coming in greats puffs of white air, looking like small clouds as they separated and dispersed into the atmosphere.

He wanted home. He wanted Pepper. He wanted Jarvis. He wanted a hug. He sat upright as he heard the metallic click of the bolt unlock, and the squeaky hinges groaned impatiently.

"So you're Tony Stark?" The man was new. He'd never met him before. Tony registered the slight twang of a Russian accent in his voice.

"Apparently so." Tony replied thickly, his mouth was dry, but by now he knew it was considered bad manners if he didn't reply to whoever was speaking to him.

The man smirked, he was wearing a tweed suit, and had his hands in his pockets. Tony eyed him curiously, wondering who this new stranger was. He certainly wasn't Creaver or Hammer.

"I believe you've heard of us? I am Mr Greenwich." The man held out his right hand. Tony simply looked at it. He'd managed to bandage his torn arm and hand, so the wound wasn't visible any more, though the vile maroon coating that had been painted on it as the wounds opened at some point that day.

"Ah yes, I forgot you're not so powerful without your suit are you?" The man sneered and Tony scowled. Everyone was always comparing him to the suit. They all looked up to the Iron Man, never the person behind it.

"I have a proposal for you, Mr Stark." Greenwich said, holding his hands behind his back and looking innocently at Tony, who didn't like where this was going.

"We know about you getting kicked off the Avengers, but compared to the rest of them you are a weakling, aren't you?" Tony wanted to punch this man in the face. He might not be working with Shield anymore, but he was still an Avenger. He was still a team mate. He still had the awesomest friends in the world. They'd come looking for him, even if Fury wouldn't let them. Fury wouldn't really want him to die. Imagine all the paperwork. He would send people to go after him... Shit.

"According to this Mr Stark, you said you have nothing to do with Shield anymore. Is that correct?" The man held was clutching a piece of paper, reading it intently. Tony gulped.

"You said you never want they're help again?" Tony bit his lip. He knew from the moment he said them that those words were going to come back and bite him on the backside. "Well is it?" The man questioned, searching Tony's bloodied up face. He then touched his ear and spoke into it. "Shield aren't a problem to us. Begin Operation Eagle." He turned to far Tony again, of whom was viciously chewing his lip. "You will be joining us. But for now, I expect you get a good night sleep- while you can." He then stormed from the room.

Tony sighed. Shield weren't going to help him. He doubted the Avengers would disobey Fury's orders- that was usually his job, and Pepper was already thinking him as dead. He wished he'd controlled his anger a bit, he wished he'd been a better boyfriend. He wished he wasn't Tony Stark. Because whatever Operation Eagle was, he didn't like the sound of it, and didn't want to know what it entailed.

He began to crawl across the damp floor towards the door, lifting up his arm heavily as he did so, reaching a none damp patch and he flopped there. The strain on his arm causing a pain he'd never felt before. It was like having a unmovable weight sellotaped to his arm.

He began scratching at the wall, causing grooves in it, swearing heavily every now and again at a nail broke off. He knew he wouldn't be able to escape, not with his body in the state it was in. But he had to try. He had to try to get out. Because he didn't know what tomorrow was going to bring, but he sure as hell knew he wasn't going to like it.