It was the worst thing Tony could imagine. He felt the hands squeeze around his neck and the breath leave him, but he couldn't move to stop it. He wanted to reach out and push the hands away. He wanted to fight off his attacker, kicking and screaming, but his hands wouldn't move. He couldn't move anything.
Oh, god. It's happening again! Tony thought desperately, trying to peer out through the darkness. No air would enter his lungs and tears began to fill his eyes as a litany of "hate you" came from the darkness. No, why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he get away? Tony struggled to breathe against the intense pressure and then he realized why. He was tied up! He couldn't be tied up, not again. The hands left his neck and Tony let out a gasping scream, drowned out by the sound of gunfire.
Tony gasped awake. Shooting straight up in his bed. He looked around quickly, holding his breath. He was in his room. He saw the bookcases against the wall that Thor had built and all of his old posters hanging up on the wall. Ignoring the pain coursing through his body from his harsh movements he grabbed his comforter and rolled under the bed. He pressed himself tightly into a corner and breathed as deeply as he could, holding his neck gently.
He laid there for hours, letting the ache all over him take his mind off everything. He took his focus off the pain at the knock on his door. He pulled himself out from under his bed quickly, but carefully. When did the sun come up?
"Just a minute!" He called out. Tony put his good arm over the side of his bed and clutched his left arm to his throbbing chest. He leaned forward, trying to push himself up onto the bed. He gasped out as his right leg pushed down against the floor, the pain shot through him and he collapsed back onto the ground.
"Hey, what are you doing? Are you alright?!" Suddenly Bruce was grabbing him gently, picking him up. Tony started kicking at the man holding onto him and tried to push away, letting out a shaky breath. He had to get away, they hated him. They were going to hurt him, they hated him. Bruce quickly laid Tony down on the bed and took a step back. "What's wrong?"
Tony scooted across his bed, backing against the large window. He turned his head to look out at the view and waited. Clint came into the room and frowned. "Tony? Are you okay?" Tony continued to stare out the window. "Bruce, what happened?"
"I knocked on the door to see what he wanted in his omelet and he told me to wait but then I came in anyway when I heard him call out in pain and he was on the floor. I went to pick him up and he started hitting me so I put him on the bed and now he's just staring out the window." Bruce said sadly. Clint placed a cautious hand on the doctor's shoulder.
"He hit you? Are you… okay?" Clint asked slowly. The Hulk usually made an appearance if he felt that Bruce was in danger, even if he wasn't. Hitting him could be dangerous.
"I'm fine. It was just a desperate attempt to get away, didn't even hurt." Bruce pushed Clint forward towards Tony. "Talk to him. He likes you." Bruce backed up and closed the door, making sure no one else would barge in and make Tony feel crowded or uncomfortable. Clint walked up to the bed slowly.
"Tony, hey it's Clint." He sat down on the edge of the bed, far enough away not to freak the boy out. "Can you look at me?" Tony nodded and glanced at the archer before looking down at the bed.
"Thank you. Bruce came in here and found you on the floor. Did you hurt yourself?" Clint continued, looking down at the blankets pooled on the ground. Tony shook his head.
"I, uh, I just wanted to get up and answer the door. Didn't get very far." Tony gave a small chuckle. "Better luck next time, right?"
"Tony, your blankets are all stuffed under the bed. Did you sleep under there?" Clint asked softly, bending over to pick up the comforter. Tony shook his head slightly.
"I wasn't sleeping under there." Tony said after a shaky breath. Bruce took a step forward, frowning.
"Were you laying under there?" Bruce asked. Tony didn't say anything, just turned to look back out the window. "It's okay if you were. We just want to make sure you didn't pull any of your stitches." Tony looked down for a moment, then nodded.
"Can I check them?" Bruce asked calmly. Tony pulled his arms closer around himself protectively. If they were going to hurt him, they would go for where he was already wounded. No, they won't hurt me. Tony thought. If I behave, they won't hate me. Tony nodded again and Bruce walked slowly up to the bed. He took the teens arm gingerly into his own, taking off the sling and unwrapping it slowly. He put it back on, satisfied with it and moved down to check the wound on Tony's leg.
"Can I ask why you were under your bed? You don't have to answer, I'm just wondering." Clint said, reaching out to put his hand on Tony's shoulder.
"I had a bad dream." Tony whispered. Bruce looked up and frowned at Clint, who nodded angrily.
"I'm going to have to lift your shirt to check your stomach, okay?" Bruce stayed crouching, waiting for an answer. Tony nodded, lifting his arms and pulling his shirt up. His stitched had remained intact and the electromagnet wasn't disturbed. "You're fine, Tony. You just gotta be careful, okay? You're still healing."
"I'm sorry, I'll be more careful. I'm sorry I hit you." Tony hung his head. "God, I'm so stupid. Why did I do that?" Clint grabbed Tony, pulling him in close. He gently began stroking his hair, as he has seen Natasha do.
"You are not stupid! You are the smartest kid I have ever met. Remember, you helped us get all that info on Hammer and bring down the terrible things they were doing. Making weapons for terrorists. They're the stupid ones." Clint murmured. "Don't ever say that again."
"Don't say you're sorry either. You did nothing wrong." Bruce said calmly. "I should apologize. I grabbed you without your permission or warning. I should have known that wasn't a good idea." Tony nodded again, leaning into Clint.
"Okay. Can I be left alone now?" Tony asked. Clint and Bruce shared a look.
"Actually, I was hoping you would come out for breakfast. I'm making omelets, you can pick what you want in it. Please?" Bruce asked. He didn't want Tony in here scared and alone. Tony nodded, he wasn't going to argue. He told himself he wasn't going to argue with them anymore.
"Alright. Can I pick you up?" Clint asked, standing. Tony nodded again, taking a deep breath and the archer lifted him into the air. He was carried gently out of the room and down the hall. He could hear the other Avengers mumbling hungrily in the kitchen. He gripped Clint's shirt as they turned towards the sounds.
"No. I want to sit on the couch. Can I eat in the living room?" Tony asked quickly. Clint nodded and turned around towards the living room. Once he was set down, Tony moved to sit up. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around his stomach.
"Tomatoes, green bell peppers, and cheese." Tony said, looking up at Bruce. Bruce was standing over him, looking concerned. Once he heard what Tony wanted on his omelet he nodded slowly and left.
Clint sat down next to Tony and waited with him. He grabbed the remote to turn on the sports channel, laughing at Tony's annoyed groan.
After about fifteen minutes, the others began to join them. Steve walked in and handed Tony his plate. Tony took it gratefully, putting the hot plate down on his throbbing stomach and began cutting up the eggs.
"How are you feeling Tony?" Natasha asked, handing Clint his plate and pulling a chair up to sit by him.
"I can move more with slightly less pain. Awesome." Tony said, not taking his eyes off of the tv.
"You look pale, young one. Do you feel ill?" Thor asked. Frowning when Bruce shook his head slightly at him.
"I'm fine. Just a little hungry." Tony said as he took another bite of his omelet.
"If you need anything, just let us know." Steve said, turning back to the tv.
"Actually, there is something. Something important, but I hate to ask." Tony said slowly. He didn't want to ask. It was too much. He also didn't want it, not at all. However, he had to know. He does something that people can't stand and it makes them want to hurt him. He has to know what it is. Tony squeezed his plate harder, choking down his fear. It'll be fine. He couldn't hurt him now. If he went, there would be guards to protect him.
"What is it Tony." Natasha asked.
"I need to talk to my dad." Tony said, looking down at his plate and away from the shocked and angry faces of the team.
Author Note - Hi! Working hard on writing and school work. You guys look great by the way! Feel free to review, follow, or fave. I love those things. Hope you're doing good and taking care of yourselves. Be sure to drink plenty of water!