Tony's POV

After a few weeks Tony eventually learned that the interrogations took place every few days. Some guards would come by and take Natasha before blindfolding him, so he couldn't see the route to the room. And everytime he would be forced to watch as they injected her with various mystery substances while she was strapped down to a table. The Headmistress would always ask him the same question. 'Who is the Spiderman?" And each time Tony refused to give up Peter's identity, even for the price of Natasha's well-being. The screams seemed to affect him less and less as time went on. The constant cries of pain was beginning to become routine for him much to his disgust.

Unbeknownst to him, Tony had been held hostage at the Red Room for quite some time now. More than two months had gone by since he was first brought in. It was now late March, and times were changing. As time passed, Natasha's absences became more and more frequent. And the more frequent they were, the longer they became. She'd disappear for days at a time on some instances. They'd bring Tony in for his two weekly interrogations, but those were the only times he would go with her. Eventually the frequencies bled together to where Tony only saw Natasha when he was brought in for the interrogation sessions. For the past few weeks, he's been alone in his cell with hardly any contact from anyone. They'd just left him alone with his thoughts. One would think that would be a mistake on the their part, leaving a man with an IQ of Tony's in solitary confinement. It leaves him time to think of an escape. There's nothing to distract him, no factors to hold him back.

But in reality, the Red Room made a killing play. By leaving a man like Tony in a small confined space by himself with nothing for his hands to fiddle with, it'll wear him down. Humans are social animals, some more social than others. Tony talks a lot. That's what he does. If he has no one to talk to, he'll build things. If both are taken away, an ever active brain won't know what to do with itself. The brain yearns for something to attach to, making it easier for others to pick it apart. It leaves the person numb. Their mind is filled with doubt as time loses its significance as it fades away.

Tony was currently sitting in the far corner of his cell. He didn't know it yet, but it was interrogation day. The days where everything just became shittier than the rest. It didn't matter to him whether he knew it or not. Stark was too far gone. His face was pale, his eyes glassy. No more of the spark in the inventor's eyes. He didn't even bother to look up when the cell door creaked open and slammed shut. Nor did his ears hear the soft steps coming towards him. But he did recognize the familiar voice of an old friend.

"Stark."

Tony looked up and was met with the green eyes of an old friend. Her hair was longer and he could see red roots. She looked properly nourished and healthy, devoid of any of the bruises and injuries she had attained from the last interrogation session. He gave her a grim smile.

"You can talk now. And stand," he said amused. "Move in general."

"I hadn't noticed," Natasha said cooly. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah." Tony replied. Natasha reached out her hand to pull him up. "Escaping?"

"What does it look like we're doing?," she asked.

They walked into the hallway where a horde of guards laid dead on the now red tile. "Stay behind me." She withdrew a gun from her holster and navigated through the bodies in the hall.

"Can I have a weapon too?" Tony asked.

"No, as long as you're with me you'll be fine. C'mon we've got to move."

Tony followed Natasha through the hallways, watching for potential attacks from guards. Surprisingly there were none to be found. There were a few stray bodies here and there, but no run-ins. Guess she took all of them out before she got me. Natasha led him to a steel door. She typed in a code on the keypad next to the door. There was a click before she turned the knob to reveal a large room. Natasha walked right in, but Tony stood back at the doorway. Inside there were about twenty cryogenic chambers. Most of them were empty but a few had people inside. The sight took Tony back to the HYDRA base with the decommissioned Winter Soldiers. The place where he fought one of his best friends. The place where he found out James Buchanan Barnes murdered his parents. His nerves were beginning to get the best of him. He took several deep breaths.

"Um do we have to go this way to leave," Tony whispered nervously.

Natasha turned around and saw his distressed state. She instantly realized the reason why he was still hanging out by the doorway.

"Sorry, this is the only discreet way I could find," she said. She attempted to reassure him. "Don't worry we're almost there. We just have to go through the door over there."

Tony caught up to Natasha and tried to avoid looking around the room. He kept his eyes on the door straight ahead. They were almost halfway across the room when they heard a gunshot. A bullet whizzed past Tony's ear and went into the wall. He turned around to see Headmistress pointing a gun in his direction. He heard Natasha tell him to run. He bolted across the room to door. Much to his luck, the handle was locked. Tony looked back to see where Natasha was in hope that she could open it when he felt something cold on the back of his head.

"You move, there'll be a bullet in your brain," Natasha said coldly.

"Well done, Natalia," Headmistress said. "I'm pleased with today's results."

No, no, no, no, no! It's a ruse. It has to be a ruse.

"What did you do to her?" Tony growled. "What did you do to Natasha?"

"She's dead. It is only Natalia now," said Headmistress. "She's been gone a long time now."

"What do you mean by you killed Natasha?"

"I have a way with words."

Trigger words. "You refucked up her brain!"

"Her brain had the words before I got my hold on her again. They don't just disappear. I mean look at Sergeant Barnes."

"She'll break through it. Just like before."

"Oh sweetheart, there's no coming back from this," she assured him. She turned to Natalia. "Clock him."

Tony felt the gun hit his head before falling cold on the floor.

Author's Note: It's been a little while guys. Sorry things got busy work, orchestra, and hurricanes. Like Michael who needs to keep his ass in the ocean. Anyway I've been trying to fight off starting a new fic before finishing this one which is kinda holding me back. So now I'm also gonna do chapters for that to get those ideas out of my head while I also work on this one. See you next time.