Tony's POV

A few hours after being knocked out, Tony finally came to in a small, bright, grey room. He sat up, confused about where he was. Foggy memories were slowly coming back to him. He remembered going to look for Natasha in the middle of the Siberian wilderness and arriving at the rundown cottage. It was cold then. He was warm now. There was a wedding picture with Natasha and a red-haired man. Then he was attacked by some assassins or spies, whatever they are.

Now he was here. Trapped in a small cell with a heavy, metal door being held hostage for who knows why and no idea of the amount of time he'd been there. Pepper and Rhodey are going to kill me if I get out of here. Hell, Ross and the UN are going to kill me if I get out. Sneaking off onto an unauthorized mission that no one knew about. Getting captured on the very same mission he wasn't supposed to be on. Government money wasted on trying to find him, well most likely his money. All for a lead on a missing, double-crossing, a-hole of a Russian.

The eerie silence of the cell unnerved Tony. The only sounds he could hear were the muffled footsteps of people constantly walking past his room. Listening to the people walk by was his only social interaction for a while. No one had stopped to come into his room to talk to him. Nobody had opened the door to collect him for an intense interrogation. He'd just been left alone, all by himself in a small, grey room. Sitting in the corner, engrossed in his thoughts.

Okay, so by now, FRIDAY should have told Pepper and the gang that I was MIA. And they know my last known location, which I have no idea how far I am away from, so that's great. And not to mention my suit got destroyed, so even if I am close by, I can't summon it. I shouldn't've even come in the first place. I mean no backup, no resources. And now I'm locked in a cell in some facility in god-knows where of a place. Stupid me. Stupid Russia. Stupid Natasha. Stupide UN. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't be here. If it weren't for her I could be at home, at the facility, cozy and warm. But I'm not. I could really kill her right now. I mean this is mostly her fau-

A series of clicks from a lock interrupted the silence. Tony's head shot up to see who was about to enter. A large, burly guard came through the doorway. He had a blonde-haired woman over his shoulder. She appeared to be unconscious with the way her body was limply draped over the man. Tony quickly figured out who it was. The hair was throwing him a bit off, but he knew that the woman was Natasha. It suddenly made sense to him now. The chicks at the cottage had said something about coming on their own. And setting up the account on the web. It was all a ploy to get me. They find Natasha. Use her as bait. I stroll up. They kidnap and hold me hostage in a cell, so they can use me for something.

The guard dropped her on the ground. The dead-weight hit the ground with a thump. Tony's body cringed at the sound of flesh and bone hitting the hard concrete floor. He kept his eyes on Natasha, not even noticing the guard lock the door of the cell behind him. He crawled over to her still form, preparing for the worst. Much to his relief, she was breathing steadily. Tony turned her body so he could look for any injuries. To his surprise, he was met with some familiar green eyes whose glares he was constantly a victim to. He sighed in relief, knowing that she was conscious and seemed to be aware of her surroundings.

"Natasha, what's going on," he asked.

He was met with silence.

"Earth to Natasha. It's me. Tony."

Natasha stared at him.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you talking? You usually would've said something snarky by now," he said worriedly. Something's really wrong.

She blinked. Her eyes, that were usually filled with life, seemed cold and distant. It unnerved him more than the silence there was before she came. At least then it was just him. With two people in the room and one as quiet as the dead, it creeped him out. Soft streams of tears began to trickle out of her eyes. For another one of the few times in his life, Tony was scared. He had rarely seen Natasha cry aside from a few instances in the seven years that he had known her. She always put on a brave face in front of the team. She seemed so, broken.

What have they done to her? She's practically unresponsive. That's usually a characteristic associated with trauma. How long has she been here. Here alone with these people. Days. Weeks. Months. These people did something to her. Probably tortured her day in and day out. No one to talk to. No one to comfort her. All alone. I always assumed she was fine living on the low as a fugitive. She has so many connections to keep her going. Red's capable of fighting off the bad guys on her own. She was always a bit of a lone-wolf even when everyone was together. When we split everyone still had friends to rely on. Everyone but her. It's kinda funny how the person who fought the hardest to keep everyone together was the one who ended up apart. I can change that. I'm here now.

Tony protectively cradled her head in his lap. He ran his fingers through her now blonde hair, in attempts to make up for what he and the others couldn't do before. He began to have a one-sided conversation with her. He told her about Rhodey and Pepper and how they must be worried sick and doing everything they can to find him. He talked about how Rhodey was walking better with help from the leg braces he for him designed. And his and Pepper's wedding planning. Tony went on for hours before eventually growing tired. Natasha had already fallen asleep towards the end of his tales. Tony soon joined her in a peaceful slumber.

They were awakened a few hours later by the familiar sound of the clicking of the lock of the cell door. A guard came in carrying a tray holding two styrofoam bowls and some plastic silverware. He set the bowls on the floor in front of Tony, along with two spoons for them to use.

"Eat," the guard ordered them.

"Thanks," Tony said coldly. He looked inside the bowls to see that there was borsch inside.

The guard turned to leave.

"Mr. Guard, I have a question," Tony said. "I haven't used the bathroom in the while. Do you know where I can go because I am not about to pee my pants today."

The man left for a minute and came back with an old, dirty bucket. He set it down in the corner across from Tony.

"This is your bathroom," the guard said gruffly. "It will be collected once a week to be emptied. Try not to fill it up the first day."

The guard left, and once again it was just the two Avengers. Tony eyed the bucket suspiciously as if something was going to jump out of it. He looked down at the woman in his lap, his eyes themselves telling her what he was about to do. She simply blinked before closing her eyes to give him some privacy. Tony gently moved her head from his lap to the floor, careful not to let it collide with the floor. Tony made his way to the bathroom bucket and quickly did his business. He sat back down next to Natasha and picked up his bowl of soup. He had a few spoonfuls before noticing Natasha hadn't moved from her spot to get her food. Hell she hadn't moved at all since she had been dropped off in the cell.

"Can you move?"

Natasha, as usual, blinked in response.

"Okay, I'm gonna take that as a no for large movements. We need a system so we can communicate better."

Silence.

"How about you use blinking? Blink once for yes, twice for no."

She blinked once. (yes)

"Good. Okay, do you need to use the bathroom?"

One blink followed by a rolling of eyes. (yes)

Great. How are we gonna do this? "Yeah so this is gonna be awkward. I know Pepper will understand."

Tony nervously and slowly began to pull Natasha's pants down. He tried to look away to give her some decency. He was no Captain America, but at the same time, he wasn't the same man he was before 2008. He may have been slightly attracted to her when she was working undercover, but he knew her now. They were like friends, kind of. Tony lifted her into his arms bridal style and carried her over to the bucket. He supported her arms while she relieved herself. Tony redressed her and propped her against the wall. He picked up the other bowl of soup and brought it towards her.

"Hungry?"

One blink. (yes)

Tony sighed. "I'm gonna have to spoon-feed you. This pains me as much as it pains you. Please don't kill me once you can move again."

A playful spark that appeared in her eye scared Tony a bit enough that he thought she might have actually considered it.

He dipped the spoon into the borsch and held it up to Natasha. She slightly parted her lips enough to accommodate the utensil. She slowly drank the soup. While she ate, Tony told her about some projects he was working on. There was a new suit prototype that was made up of nanites which emerged from a new arc reactor type. Shuri, T'Challa's sister helped him design it. The girl was extremely smart and put his own tech to shame. She also helped him improve Steve's shield, so he could use it whenever the world needed the Avengers again. After feeding Natasha, Tony finished eating his own soup. He stacked the bowls and spoons in a pile by the door and resumed the position he and Natasha were in before they were interrupted by the guard.

The two sat in silence for a while, not knowing what to do with their newfound time. Tony didn't want to fully annoy Natasha by talking to her the whole time, but he also needed to get information about the facility and on her.

"Have you been here for a long time?" he asked.

(yes)

"More than two months?"

(yes)

"How about past four?"

(yes)

"Past six."

(yes)

"Have you been here for five months?"

(no)

"Six?"

(yes)

Six months. That places her around August. Which was when she set that apartment complex on fire.

"So after you committed grand arson," he said coldly.

(yes)

He didn't ask her anymore questions for the rest of the day. He had heard enough for now.

Author's Note: Hey guys. I have a chapter today. Now I have to work on another chapter for you people. Bye.

p.s. hope y'all like the new cover art for this fic.