"What?" asked Tony dully.
"You are under arrest." Fury began listing off his Miranda rights, but Tony's brain was frozen.
That is, until two overzealous agents tugged him none too gently off the bed and hunched him over a table, handcuffs snicking shut around his wrists.
"Under what charges?!" asked Tony incredulously.
"Conspiring against the United States, aiding and abetting a known criminal, and terrorism threats. These crimes are punishable by a maximum death sentence or life in prison."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "Fury, just what the FUCK have you been smoking?"
Fury shifted his gaze to the men pinning Tony.
"Gentlemen," he said, nodding slightly.
Tony's head was yanked backwards, and a chloroform-coated rag was placed over his mouth and nose.
Tony struggles weakly against the drug, but before long he was out like a light.
When Tony woke up, he resisted the urge to open his eyes, instead focusing on observing his situation while feigning unconsciousness. His legs, waist, and chest were strapped to the chair he was sitting in, arms chained together with the hind legs of the chair.
He heard a door off to his right open and heard footsteps entering, 2 people by the sound of it.
He blinked open, squinting against the harsh light. As the world came into focus, he took in his surroundings. The room was empty except for the chair, 5 armed guards, and, unsurprisingly, Nick fucking Fury himself. What did surprise him, though, was the other person in the room: Natasha.
Fury stood before him, hands clasped behind his back and his eye fixed on Tony. And that look, that icy cold stare, it pissed Tony off. It reminded him of Howard: that disapproving gaze, that better-than-thou stance, that hard, merciless stare.
Natasha leaned against the wall in the corner, her stance betraying nothing, face emotionless.
So Tony turned his attention to Fury.
"Nicky!" he said, grinning widely with that trademark fake Stark smile.
Nothing.
Fury turned to Natasha and gave her a curt nod, and the spy peeled away from the wall, reaching into one of her seemingly endless pockets as she took slow, steady steps toward Tony.
Her hand came away grasping a tube-like metal silver object, with a giant red button on the top and near-invisible seams on the side.
She came to a stop before him, clicking the button and releasing three claws, a soft glowing coming from within. Tony shuddered and strained against the bonds because that looked a hell of a lot like Loki's eyeball-remover-thingy from Stuttgart.
Her hand came up to grip his chin firmly, and the machine came down towards his face. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second-" Tony started, but then the device was over his right eye and his heart just stopped.
And then it was pulling away, a scan of his retina appearing on the screen of the opposite wall as coding scrolled past on the side, and Tony let out a breath. Natasha pressed some electrodes to his chest and forehead, then stepped back to look at the screen.
"Color appears normal, sir, although brain activity seems to be highly increased as is temperature," Natasha read out.
Fury scribbled something down on a clipboard pulled from seemingly nowhere, then looked back up at Natasha.
"Agent Romanoff, you know what to do."
She nodded, and he gestured the guards to the door, and then Fury stepped out after them, closing the door behind him.
So now he was alone with Natasha Romanoff: Avenger, assassin, and Russian spy. Tied to a chair. In an interrogation room.
Fuck.
She strode up to stand before him, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she looked down at him.
"So, what's his play?" she asked calmly, and Tony was shocked to hear her interrogation voice. The same voice she'd used on Loki, and probably countless others. That was disconcerting.
"What?"
"Loki. What's his play?"
Tony just stared at her in shock.
"I don't know! In case you didn't notice, he tortured me, Romanoff. He didn't tell me anything."
Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. "So, you expect me to believe that you were with an egotistic villain with mind-control powers for a week, and he told you nothing?"
Tony blanched. That did sound kinda bad. "He didn't tell me anything, I swear!"
Natasha circled behind him and he tensed, feeling her hands come down to rest on his shoulders. She bent over to whisper into his ear.
"Are you sure there's nothing you could tell us that could be helpful?"
"He told me nothing!"
If anyone at SHIELD was asked if they heard screaming coming from cell block D, they would deny it completely, as per usual. SHIELD was good at getting what they wanted.
But the screams coming from the interrogation sector chilled even the most seasoned agents to the bone.