A/N: Switching fandoms for a moment but: May the Fourth be with you all!
Disclaimer: Nothing, not even a little, itzy, bitzy piece do I own.
"Steve!... Steve!... Steve!"
"Go 'way."
"No can do, buddy. Calvary's here."
Steve pried his reluctant eyes open to the face of Clint Barton. Blinking rapidly, trying to decide if he was dreaming or not, Steve couldn't help the grim smile that touched his lips.
"Hey, Hawk."
"Hey yourself, Cap. How you feeling?"
"'Kay. Drug'd. Better 'an Tony." It was that thought that had Steve's sleepy eyes shoot back open. "Tony!"
"It's okay, Cap. We've got him." Clint moved aside. Tony was still hanging from the chains, but Natasha was there, speaking to him in low tones.
"Hey, Cap." Steve tore his gaze away and refocussed on the man next to him. "Can you walk?"
Steve tried to shake his head no, but it ended up just flopping around. He figured Clint would get the message.
"Okay. No worries." He touched his hand to his com. "Thor, we're going to need your help."
Steve didn't hear the reply, but it was seconds later that the God of Thunder sat in front of him as well.
"Captain, how fair thee?" Steve tried to smile up at the giant.
"He's been drugged, Thor, and it's gotta be pretty powerful to knock Cap out like this. Here." There was rustling behind Steve, but he focussed instead on Tony. "Take this with you and tell Doc that it contains the drug he's got in his system."
"Aye." Steve felt his bonds fall from his arms and legs, but was unable to help. Thor gripped his waist and helped heave Steve to his feet. A sudden whooshing sound and Steve found himself sailing through the air, trying not to vomit as the world flashed by.
Clint was trying to keep down his breakfast. Like Natasha, he'd seen all this before, but to see his friends - his brothers - like this made him sick.
He had rushed towards Cap while Natasha took Tony. Cap had been pretty out of it, but he looked stable otherwise. After Thor whisked him away to the quinjet, Clint turned towards his partner.
"How's he doing, Nat?" Natasha had hurried over to Stark once she got over her initial repulsion to the situation. From the state of his body, she didn't really expect him to be alive.
She gently cupped the genius' less-injured side of his face with one hand while checking for a pulse with the other. His skin was clammy and almost translucent. Dull, pain-filled eyes shifted to take in her presence. Startled, Natasha tried to recover by allowing a small smile.
"Hey, Stark. We're going to get you out of here, okay?"
The man slowly blinked, opening his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Silence, except for the wheezing sound coming from his lungs. His eyes closed for a long moment and Natasha thought he'd fallen unconscious, but he lifted his lids just as slowly, staring back into her eyes. It took Natasha another second to realize he had just blinked his understanding and consent. The effort to talk must have been too much for the downed billionaire.
Natasha took a moment to look over Tony's injuries and figure out the best solution for releasing him from the chains. The man was clearly exhausted - bloodshot eyes bore into her, never leaving her face; each blink occurred as if it were a laborious movement. His chest and face were a mottled collection of purples, blues, and blacks. She could see a few ribs out of place, a few undoubtedly cracked, perhaps one or two broken. Part of his chest moved unnaturally, opposite of his lungs as they struggled to bring in air, lips tinged with the slightest blue. His face was bloodied, new wounds added on top of older ones, blood drying in various places. His listless eyes swarmed with agony, pleading with her to stop the pain.
"Stark, can you hear me?"
A long, intentional blink. A cough. A splotch of red lining his lips.
"Hey, Nat, how's he doing?" Clint had finished up with Cap and was now approaching quickly, determined.
It took all of Natasha's resolve to tear her eyes away from Tony's. In her peripheral, she could see him try to follow her with his eyes. She shook her head minutely at the archer, her lips pressed firmly into a tight line. They worked long enough together for him to know what the look meant: they needed to get Tony out of here, now!
"Okay, you help stabilize him. I'm going to pick this lock."
Natasha turned back to the injured man and found his eyes make their way back to hers. They were a little slow, but they were tracking and he was responding, albeit only slightly. Whispering words of encouragement, Natasha held Tony's arm and body up in preparation for his release.
"Nat," Clint breathed toward her. She glanced over at the man, his eyes locked on Tony's back. Keeping her face stoic, Natasha nodded over to her partner, knowing without seeing that it must be something horrible. She could hazard a guess based on the blood splattering the walls and floor behind him, but she couldn't break down in front of this man right now. His eyes were glued to her face, as if accepting that everything would be okay because she had said so. She couldn't let him see the hopelessness that was quickly flooding her, drowning out the spurt of elation at finding them alive.
Clint swiftly removed the cuff on Tony's left arm. Natasha keeping him up. They slowly lowered the limb over Clint's shoulder as the archer gripped the back of Tony's pants to keep him upright. Pants that she absently noted were a little too big on his thin frame. She almost missed the extra pained look that flashed across his eyes as Clint adjusted the grip on his arm. The movement wasn't much, but it was enough to make the man's eyes pool with unshed tears.
Once Clint had a hold of Tony, Natasha picked the lock on the cuff on his other arm, catching the limb before it fell uncontrolled. She gently wrapped the arm around her shoulder and reached behind to latch onto Tony's pants as well, careful not to touch his bare back. Slowly, they started walking, Tony doing little more than sagging between the assassins, dragging his feet behind.