Chapter 10

It was the same room as before, Tony realised immediately, as the sack was snatched from his head. But this time the chairs were gone, and the trough was in the centre. The room was quite dark, Tony wondered why they hadn't lit it. They obviously had the capability, seen as they had lit the living cell earlier. Was it another tactic to try and disorientate him? The fat man stood by the tank, gently splashed his hand in the water as he had last time, smiling at Tony. He was still enjoying this. Tony stared at him, and then was pushed from behind, closer to the tank. Razza was nowhere to be seen.

"My men, they tell me that you are strong, that I should tie your arms behind your back, to make it easier." He smiled again. "But where is the fun in that? I enjoy watching men struggle."

A nod of his head and Tony was grabbed from behind, a strong hand clamped around the back of his neck, and suddenly he was in the water again. This time he took in as large a gulp of air as possible. It didn't seem to last very long. He tried to push his head up from the water, but the hand on his neck was too strong. He used his free hand, (the other was still holding that damn battery, digging into the side of his chest) to push back against the edge of the trough, but another hand found its way to his shoulder, and pushed him in deeper. Realising his arm was not helping, Tony tried a different tactic and reached out, trying to hit at the bodies holding him in. He caught hold of material and pulled, but then a fist hit him in the head and his arm was wrenched up behind his back and his face was scraping against the base of the trough. He stopped fighting, feeling his vision go dark as he had no more air. He opened his mouth, not wanting to, but desperate, and more water rushed in, choking him, drowning him, and surely, this was it. They want you alive, a voice whispered in his ear, but then a second voice joined in, reminding him that they were initially paid to kill him anyway, so what would it matter if he did die? Would they still get paid, despite the delay in killing him? Then what would happen to Pepper? His legs gave way as his vision blacked out, and there was darkness – only darkness.

He opened his eyes later and found himself on the floor. Something was pounding against his chest – and it hurt, his chest wound – his ribs - the pain – it was an agony that Tony couldn't describe. Instead he tried to breathe. Breathe through the pain. Breath through the ragged coughs that brought water up from his lungs, onto the floor, his captors, himself – it didn't matter as long as he could breathe again. He gasped in air as his vision came back in spots. The guard stopped hitting him, gave him a moment, then the dragged him back up by his arms and threw him back into the water, the battery now on the floor by his feet, he almost tripped over it as they forced him back under.

"Build us the bomb!"

"Are you ready to help us?"

"You will make the Jericho missile!"

"Build me the bomb!"

"You will break Mr Stark. Why endure this when the end result will be the same either way?"

"Build the bomb and we will let you go, you and your lady friend."

They continued their drowning with renewed vigour. Each time they would ask him the question, demand he build for them, and each time Tony refused. He was so weak now, that he didn't even respond to the threats and demands, he just ignored them and gasped for breath – he wasn't going to waste any precious air in responding to the terrorists. Tony fought back as best as he could, but it was impossible. They cycle went on and on. They would hold him under water, Tony would struggle, his resistance growing weaker and weaker with each round. A few times he woke up on the floor, sure he was dead, that it was over, and other times they let him up after a short dip, giving him just a second to catch his breath, before forcing him back in again. They were disorientating him with the alternating lengths of time under water. At times Tony feigned unconsciousness and they would reluctantly drag him out. When they realised he was awake they would hit him and kick him and then throw him back in. Tony didn't know what to do. After a while, he began to hope they would leave him in, just end it, but then a quiet voice would remind him of Pepper, and he would struggle again.

At times he realised he was talking to them, responding to the threats between dunking's, still refusing to give in to them, but instead begging, pleading for them to stop, or sometimes just sobbing, unable to stop himself. He couldn't help it. But they did not listen. They did not stop. Hours later, they grew tired of their game. After the last session, Tony lay on the floor, his body twitching, vomit and water and blood staining his chest and his chin. The floor was soaked through. He felt the men grab him and braced himself. Instead of throwing him back in, they were dragging him away. He tried to pick his legs up to walk, but he was too weak. He left himself be dragged, closed his eyes, thankful for the break. They dumped him a foot inside the shared cell. He saw Pepper and Yinsen approaching, tried to get up, fell into a crawl, vomited water all over the floor and passed out once more.

He came too hours later, laid on the cot by the fire again, his head spinning, his entire body hurting. His throat ached, his chest throbbed, both the magnet wound and his lungs. He looked around, the room was lit, and he noticed Pepper at his side, holding his shaking hand, his entire body seemed to be trembling.

"Pepps," he slurred, but said nothing more, instead closing his eyes as his body shivered again.

"Tony," Pepper said, holding his hand a little tighter. "This has got to stop. You're going to die. Tell them you'll build it. Please."

He didn't move, didn't open his eyes, just lay still, but managed to mutter a "can't" quietly.

"Please Tony," she whispered. "Just say you will do it, just to buy some time, to recover a little, and then when you're stronger-"

"No," his voice sounded a little stronger already.

Pepper was desperate. "They have weapons already – what's one more?" She didn't want him to build the bomb, but she couldn't stand to see him like this either. "Nobody would blame you."

His eyes flickered open, he looked up at her and he looked – angry? Sad? Lost. "No," he said, and then a cough rattled through him. He leant on his side as the coughing fit continued, then spat out a mouthful of spit before collapsing back onto the bed. "Sorry," he muttered, bringing a shaking hand up to his face to wipe his mouth. Then he was asleep again. Pepper watched him sadly.

Yinsen came over, sat down besides Pepper, having witnessed their exchange from across the room. "He is very weak, it is good to let him sleep."

Pepper shook her head. "They're going to kill him."

"Yes," Yinsen nodded. "If he doesn't build, they will kill him whilst trying to force him. If he does build – they will kill him afterwards anyway."

Pepper shook her head. "What are we going to do?"

"Wait until he is more lucid, and then we can both speak to him."

Pepper nodded, then drifted into silence and watched as Tony twitched and shivered and moaned in his sleep. The swelling to his face had gone down slightly, both of his eyes were now functioning, but the bruising scattered over his face and body were darker, looking angrier than before. Yinsen took his temperature and shook his head at the results.

When the guards had returned Stark he had checked him over, re-bandaged the surgical wounds, and then, realising there was still water settling in the man's lungs after listening with a stethoscope, Yinsen had rolled him over and punched him on the back three times, forcing Tony to cough up the liquid. Tony had woken during this, but seemed oblivious, and Yinsen hoped the man wouldn't remember it – it was bad enough being tortured by terrorists, he didn't need to remember the man caring for him assaulting him too, even if it was to help.

But Tony was ill, that much was clear. The two sessions of water torture had clearly taken their toll. He was strong, but he was still human, and his body was beginning to deteriorate from the trauma. Yesterday, Yinsen had feared infection in the chest piece area, and today, the wound looked worse, the infection clearly spreading over the site. Whilst it was hard to determine how Tony's body was holding up against the infection because of the other damage – one thing was clear, he was going to need medication. Antibiotics, at least; and Yinsen was running low on general medical supplies.

Yinsen was worried. He was scared. He was going to have to ask the men for supplies. They were going to want something in return. Would they demand he help them make Stark comply? Or would they want to trade for something else? He glanced over at Pepper as this thought crossed his mind, and then quickly looked away. If she knew what he was thinking, she would probably go along with it, if it got Tony the help he needed, her devotion to him was obvious, but that was something Yinsen would do his best to prevent.

Yinsen decided that he had another day of supplies left, at best. Tony was still okay, for now, he would see how he fared against the infection, and if he got really ill, he would demand supplies and see what happened. He just hoped the man's body would fight it off on its own – he was strong, this he had proved already.

Tony didn't wake again, instead he slept through the night – the first time Pepper had ever known him to sleep for more than a few hours, unless he was drunk. Of course, these weren't normal circumstances, but it worried her. Yinsen reassured her that it was a good thing, and that he needed the rest. They left him where he was, by the fire, it was important that he keep warm. Yinsen retired to his bed later, but Pepper stayed in the chair by his cot, not wanting to leave him in case he woke up confused. She watched him sleep through the dim light of the fire, the flames giving his skin a slightly orange tint, making him look healthier than she knew he would look in the morning.

She managed to drift off for a little while, but generally spent most of the night worrying: about him, about the terrorists, about what she could do to help them get out of this mess. Each time she heard a noise she jumped, thinking it was the men, coming for him in the night as they had done the night before. This time the men waited until morning. Maybe they realised that he needed time to recover.

Yinsen gently woke him at seven am, so that he could eat something, and be checked over again. Tony was tired and confused at first, mumbling a "what happened?" before he seemed to regain his composure, and then answered each of Yinsen's probing questions with a flat "I'm fine."

He got out of bed and paced for a while, holding the battery with both hands. His body ached and pulled as he tottered unsteadily around the cave but he knew he needed to keep moving, to keep his body active. When he finished his final lap he perched on the edge of the bench and stared into the fire, seemingly deep in thought. Pepper sat down beside him, leaving a gap between them, but still close enough for him to sense that she wanted to talk.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him gently.

"Ideas," he replied, vaguely.

"Don't shut me out Tony, I want to help."

He shrugged his shoulders and looked at her a little bewildered. "I don't have anything yet; I'm not shutting you out."

"Good," she said gently, seeing him relax slightly. "Listen, we do need to talk about this. We can't just keep on letting these men hurt you, we have to do something!" She rubbed a hand on his arm as she saw he was about to protest with his stock answer of "I'm fine" or "I'm thinking." Neither was good enough. "God," she said, touching his arm again, "Tony, you're freezing."

He was still shirtless but given that most of his chest was covered in bandages it didn't seem to bother him. He shrugged his shoulders again. "I feel warm, actually." Yinsen came over, took his temperature again. "I've probably warmed up from walking around; it's nothing to worry about."

Yinsen, however, insisted that Tony wear a jacket he had found out, it was black and looked musty. Yinsen was adamant he wear it, insisting his body needed to stay warm, despite the heat he already felt. Tony stared at it with dissatisfaction but then thanked Yinsen sincerely. He didn't get the chance to put it on – instead he dropped it to the floor as the tell-tell noise of the bolts on the door began to sound.

"Shit," Tony muttered under his breath, before glancing at Pepper who had frozen beside him. She looked as scared as he felt. This time the fear really hit him. Not again. Please. He didn't know if he could take any more of the water. The door was opening and Tony snapped himself out of it, felt his façade slip into place. "Pepper get to the back of the cave," he warned, pushing her behind him. He could hear her bare feet patter against the floor and then the guards were pouring into the room – more than usual – and he stood straight, hands behind his head, trying to ignore the fear ripple through him as the fat man strode towards him. Goosebumps appeared on his arms, despite the heat he felt, and he ignored them, stood tall, tried to look as indifferent and fearless as he could.

The fat man didn't waste any time. "Grab him!" He ordered, sounding angry. "Her too!"

Tony strode forwards, hands now down as he grabbed the man on the arm. "Leave her out of this!" In seconds three men were on him, one dragging him away from the fat man, a second tried to wrestle his arms behind his back as a third smashed him on the side of his face with the butt of his Stark weapon. Tony went down, grunting and gasping and yelling for them to leave her out of it.

Yinsen watched, hands still behind his head, looking terrified but too scared to intervene. Pepper strode forwards. "Leave him alone," she pleaded, "I'm coming!"

The fat man grabbed her, twisting her arm up high behind her back as he marched her out of the room. She tried to turn back to look for Tony but she couldn't, the pressure on her arm too much, she couldn't fight it. Tony was dragged out behind her, three men still struggling to contain him, a fourth holding the battery, as he shook his body between the grips the men had on him. As he was marched forwards he stopped protesting, tried to catch his breath, but rage still fuelled him as he watched Pepper forced ahead of him, the fat man twisting her arm higher each time she tried to move. He stopped shouting, moved with the men, realising he needed to calm down and save his energy.

He was thrown into the torture room and stumbled but managed to stop himself from falling. He stood, the three guards still surrounding him, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath and compose himself. Pepper had been released but the fat man was stood at her side. She was holding her arm against her body, clearly in pain. His panicked face flittered between Pepper and the trough as he felt his body began to tremble slightly in anticipation. He did not want Pepper to see this – to see them hurt him – but also – what if they did it to her? No, Tony decided, no. I will not let that happen them. Tony noticed that the trough was empty, what did that mean?

The fat man was talking to one of the guards in a different language, motioning with his hands to the far wall. Tony glanced over, noticed for the first time a rusted tap bolted into the wall. How had he not noticed that earlier? Pay attention. The fat man turned back to Pepper then, smiling and rubbing his hands together.

"We need your help. Pull that over to the tap," he instructed, indicating the empty trough with a nod of his head. Pepper looked confused for a second, but then the big man growled "now" in her ear and Pepper moved over to the trough. She looked into it worriedly, then grabbed it by the edge and began to drag it across the room, the wood scraping against the floor. It was heavy, and Pepper was slow. Tony moved to help her and three guns were pointed at him, so he stayed put.

Pepper made it to the wall. She dusted her hands off and then looked at the fat man, feigning ignorance, slow timing him.

"Turn the tap," the fat man said, his hands playing out the action of turning a tap, "and fill up the tank."

Pepper glanced nervously at Tony but did as instructed. She watched as dirty looking water slowly filled the tank. Tony concentrated on his breathing – in, out, in, out. He didn't want his apprehension to show to these men who were clearly enjoying his discomfort, no matter how he tried to hide it. Pepper continued to stare into the water, wondering what the men were going to do. It wasn't hard to guess, Pepper had seen the state Tony had been returned in, the last two times, but somehow her mind still didn't piece together the possibility of water torture.

The trough was just over half-way full. "That is enough," the man said, scratching his beard. Pepper turned the tap off and glanced back over at Tony who swallowed hard. Not Pepper, his silent mantra, repeated over and over in his mind. Not Pepper. I can't let her go through that.

Two younger guards holstered their guns, then moved over and between them carried the trough back to centre stage. It was heavy and some of the water sloshed over the sides from the movement. Pepper watched Tony, saw his body flinch slightly as the water sloshed over the edge and puddled on the floor. The fat man pulled her back to him, stood near the tank, he pulled his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. Pepper closed her eyes, not daring to fight him off. His breath stank and the closeness made her skin crawl. He spoke, directing his words at Tony.

"Are you ready to be more accommodating Mr Stark?"

Tony looked at him, raising an eyebrow, trying to figure out if the threat was for him or against Pepper. A second later it was clear as he was shoved against the trough, his hip slamming into the side, his right arm pulled viciously high, forcing him forward with a gargle of pain and then he was back in, fighting the murky water, holding his breath, trying not to panic, trying not to breathe, trying not to give in – and, quickly, too quickly, he is suffocating, blowing out air bubbles, struggling against the hands holding him in, kicking his feet back, shacking his body and then he is breathing in water and drowning and it hurts and Pepper is watching and-

Suddenly he is on the floor again, shock waves rattling through him, his body spasms as he coughs up water and gasps for breath. They give him a minute, then hands are on him and he is hauled to his feet again. A hand from behind grabs his chin, forcing him to face the fat man and Pepper. Pepper looks terrified, but she is silent. Tony continued to gasp for air, mouth hanging open from exhaustion. That was only the first, he thinks, and a little voice whispers you can't do this again to him.

"I think he should change his mind," the fat man addresses Pepper, "what do you think?"

Pepper doesn't break her gaze from Tony. Her eyes are filled with sadness and terror and fear and all she can do in response to the question is whisper "Tony?" It isn't an answer, and the fat man nods his head and Tony is back in the water. The cycle continues. The third time, they dunk him in, pull him back out by his hair seconds later, then throw him back in again, repeat the process, then hold him under for a long time. Tony struggles, his struggles grow weaker. Pepper begs the fat man, scratches his arms, screams at him, pleads for him to leave Tony alone, her protests becoming more frantic as the seconds pass.

"Please, leave him alone!"

"Stop it, you're going to kill him!"

"Tony!"

"He's no good to you dead!"

The fat man laughs at her and continues on. Tony is dragged out of the water, barely conscious. They drop him on the floor, slap his face, kick him as he coughs up more of the dirty water, then grab him again, throw him back in.

"Please, let me talk to him, I can convince him, I can talk him into helping you, please!"

"Let me talk to him!"

Three hours in and Peppers voice is hoarse. Tony can no longer hold his own weight, the men are holding him up as they continue their games, their attempts to break him no closer to being complete. The fat man is growing tired. "Enough," he screams, and Tony is dropped back onto the floor. The fast man pushes Pepper away. She wants to run to Tony, where he is slumped back on the floor, gasping for air in shallow pants, he looks terrible, he looks exactly how close to death he is. She takes a step closer to him and one of the armed guards points at her, warning her to stay where she is.

"Mr Stark, you are very stubborn. Let us again test your resilience."

He switches language again, just for a second, and then the young guard, the strong one who enjoyed twisting his arm so high grabs Pepper, marches her over to the tank. Pepper screams and then the sound is cut off as her head is roughly pushed under the water.

"Pepper!"

Tony struggles to get up, another guard kicks him back to the ground. "Leave her alone please! Pepper!"

The fat man moves closer. "You know what you have to do to make us stop, Stark," his name is spat out like it's a filthy word.

"I'll do it! I'll do it! Let go of her, pull her out, I'll do it! Please!" He realises how desperate he sounds, crazy – frantic – pure desperation.

The fat man leans over, grabs a fistful of Tony's hair in his fist, pulls his head back sharply.

"I'm not sure I believe you."

Tony looks up at him – fear and terror and panic in his eyes. "Please, I'll do it, please," his voice cracks as rage pours through him. "I'll fucking do it, I'll fucking build it NOW!"

That seems to do it. They pull Pepper out – she is gasping for breath and crying and sobbing and her hair is dripping wet, falling messily over her shoulders. Tony looks up at her, feels his heart literally breaking.

The fat man clapped Pepper on the shoulder. "Thank you for your help," he says, and then two guards grab her and pull her away, out of the room. Tony can hear Pepper calling for him. He wants to demand to know what they are doing, where they are taking her, to make sure she is okay, but he doesn't have the strength. He falls back to the floor. The fat man stands over him – the only man left in the room. He drops a pencil and a pad of paper on a dry spot on the floor.

"I will be back to collect a list of the equipment you require tomorrow."

He leaves the room, and Tony hears a bolt fasten against the door. He sat up slightly, his arms trembling from the effort. He looks around the room – four empty walls, the water trough and a pencil and paper pad. He crawls over to the pad, picks the pencil up. His hands are shaking too much to write anything. He slips the pencil behind his ear, deciding that he will take just a minute to sit, and then he will think, and write - his head is a mess, he can't think of anything right now. Pepper. Instead of machine parts and equipment all he can think is I broke, I gave in. He couldn't let them hurt Pepper though, he just couldn't.

The room was cold. His chest hurt. Breathing hurt. He looked down at that damn battery and dropped the pad of paper down on top of it. He curls onto his side, bracing his arms against his bruised chest as another spasm jerks its way through his body.

He tries to order himself to think, but the only things he can focus on are Pepper and I broke. He's tired, too tired to keep his eyes open. And he doesn't want to look at the trough anyway. Rest your eyes, just for a minute, he tells himself. But he is asleep in seconds, his shivering form twitching and jerking as unconsciousness takes over.

As he sleeps, he dreams of Pepper. He dreams of the fat man, hurting her. He dreams of the car battery becoming disconnected. He dreams of his father, the all American patriot, and himself, building weapons for terrorists, a traitor of the USA.

Thanks for all the reviews of the last chapter! Glad to see people are still reading this. Hope you enjoyed the update! Hopefully Tony and Pepper's ride will get a little easier now…. Hmm… not too sure about that actually ;) *insert evil smile here*