He was face down, on his back, and the hand hovering over the arc reactor tightened in the hair at the back of his head. Soft familiar lighting became harsh and unforgiving to eyes that could not close, and the dank darkness ate away at what little hope remained. Sand stung a gritty mess in his swollen parched mouth, as he choked on the filthy tepid water burning its way down his throat. They held him down, beneath the water, and Stane held the arc reactor aloft, triumph a disgusting smirk across his face. Sparks zapped wetly against his chest, and he writhed in breathless, drowning agony, paralysed motionless as betrayal took his heart.
He was dead.
He was dead, and this embodiment of his eternal nightmare, must be hell.
It was dark.
He was haloed in darkness in a way that should never have been possible again. He didn't look down, couldn't, for more reason than there being no light to see by, but because he knew that the reactor was gone.
Taken, stolen, lost – it didn't matter, because it was gone, and without it, he was dead.
Dead and floating, in a muddy river, in a dank cave, in hell.
His hell; forever drowning in the dark.
Injured, possibly quite severely, trapped in a truly undesirable position, and as someone she knew felt considerably adverse toward being under water, Natasha thought that Tony had been handling the situation with extreme grace under pressure.
Had been handling the situation with extreme grace under pressure.
Hands reached for him, grasping, restraining, punishing. Drowning. Stealing.
Fingers brushed against his face, settling over his cheek, and Tony knew that all betrayal came disguised as a caress. The fingers would slip down his throat soon enough, to lay claim to – but no, because it was already gone.
He the hand away madly, curling in against the darkness that was engulfing him, dreading its touch, but hiding in it just the same.
Something brushed against his hair, and the light glancing touch immediately morphed into a hand, fisted painfully in the snarled tangles at the back of his head. It would keep him beneath the surface, to choke, to drown, to burn.
He hit out viciously, shoving the unseen form away, writhing through glutinous water that churned in foamy air pockets around him.
The visibility of the murky water barely gave her enough forewarning to duck the flailing hand that shoved her away, and Natasha lunged backward in the water.
The air in her lungs burned for release, unneeded and desperate to be expelled.
Only it was needed, desperately so.
Swimming forward again, she half slithered over the rock's face, trying to get close enough to be able to take Tony's face with both hands. Close enough to force him to calm down, or barring that, close enough to force the collected oxygen down his reticent throat.
The fist that found her stomach forcibly expelled the air from her lungs, and Natasha had to fight against gasping in a stomach-full of disgusting river water.
Tony, calm and collected, seemingly handling the situation with admirable courage, suddenly wouldn't let her near him.
Turning abruptly, she kicked for the surface.
Clint paddled uselessly above the water, his keen gaze searching the bank for familiar black uniforms, or even better, blond hair. Nothing. No sirens, no red, white or blue. Come on – where the hell are you guys! We need you- Tony needs you!
Only able to distract himself from his guilt for so long, Clint turned his attention back to the water, watching as the last glint of Natasha's red hair disappeared into the murky depths. Each freely drawn breath that passed his lips felt like a twist of the knife he'd set between his own ribs. God, what the hell had he been thinking?
He hadn't thought anything could be worse than the sound of Tony's guttural agonized screaming gurgle of pain, but the instant silence that had followed Clint's touching of the arc reactor had proved him wrong, with conviction.
The Arc Reactor.
Clint had seen Tony in the throes of a Stane induced flashback. Seen what unexpected contact with water could do. He'd never wanted to imagine them happening together.
And now he didn't have to. Know he knew.
Ignoring his own heaving breath, and aching lungs, Clint looked down, unable to see anything, but still searching.
"Come on Natasha – fix just one more of my fuckups. Please."
Bursting through the bubbling surface ripples, and gasping in deep breaths around rasping coughs, Natasha's gaze swept passionlessly over the gawking crowd gathered at the bank, to settle on Clint, immediately registering his guilt just by the set of his shoulders.
"Is he-? The archer started to ask, but fell silent when he became aware of the fact that he had no idea what the question should be.
Natasha shook her head, replying urgently, "He won't let me near him – what did you do?" Her voice was blameless, she wasn't accusing him, she was just seeking the information she needed to set things right.
"I- The arc reactor. I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to-" he trailed off, a gesturing movement against his own chest saying more about what he'd done than his words.
Natasha blanched slightly, a huge lapse for the controlled assassin, but family had a way of finding chinks in even the most impenetrable armour. He voice was measured as she answered, "A flashback, then. Violent."
"What do we do? What can we do? Tony will fight tooth and fucking nail before he lets any of us touch him. We need to get him out of the fucking water! Goddamn fucking self-sacrificing jerk!" Clint yelled, anger, hopelessness, guilt and frustration wearing on him.
Natasha was deadly calm, her voice determined as she replied, "That isn't helping, so stop. He's still unconsciously holding his breath, but he needs air. Now. "
The unspoken whatever is necessary hung heavily in the air between them.
Clint nodded, replied "I'll hold him." took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface.
Tony had been waiting.
A reprieve maybe, but a false sense of security, certainly.
He knew the torment would never end. They always came for him, with their shoving, pulling, restraining hands, that wouldn't stop until they got what they wanted, and Tony would never give them what they wanted.
They'd hold him under the water until he choked on his own bile, pressing him into the black void that lay below. He'd writhe with angry, helpless desperation, lungs burning, aching, and he'd never ever stop drowning.
Unable to see, his body a mass of distant agony that burned to his very core, Tony waited.
And as he'd know they would, out of the still darkness, they set upon him.
Searching hands glanced off his side, seeking and finding him in the shadowy water.
Whatever they wanted, they wouldn't get it from him.
Tony breathed in.
A mouthful of revolting viscous water burning down his throat, invading his lungs and settling heavily in his stomach as he swallowed involuntarily.
A hand suddenly curled around his throat in a bruising grasp, completely blocking his ability to breathe in. A second hand settled heavily on his upper chest, shoving him down, sending fire shooting up and down his body in unimaginable waves of agony.
Tony's eyes snapped open in time to see an inky shadowed form closing in, looming impossibly near, huge in his horizon, sucking any last vestiges of comforting not-dark away.
He bucked weakly against the weight that settled against him, his free hand coming up to alternately scrabble against the fingers locked around his throat and push ineffectively at his capturer? torturer? murderer?
The hand sitting just beneath his collarbone shifted, fisting in the dark cotton of his polo shirt, and then suddenly yanked.
The wash of blue light lit the blackness to a hazy grey, and the inky figure became recognisable as something other than hell spawn.
Tony's mouth snapped closed, and Steve's hand immediately relaxed, sliding away from his lover's throat to curl tenderly around the back of his skull.
His blue eyes where huge with panic and concern, but he simply leant down and locked his lips over Tony's, in an achingly familiar, and desperately needed breath stealing kiss.
A/N-
Ladies and Gents, I give you Steve Rogers! Everythings gonna be okay now :)
I love to read, I love to write... I love to read the reviews you write :)