A/N Thanks for the reviews guys! They make my day! For those of you who are wondering where the rest of The Avengers are, don't worry, they will be in the next chapter. A little warning on this chapter: there are descriptions of torture in this chapter, nothing gory but this fic is rated T for a reason.

Thanks to Maralexa for the beta!

Chapter 3

An unknown amount of time later, Tony was roused from the doze that he had unintentionally fallen into, by the sound of the door opening. Head-honcho entered the cell flanked by the Tweedle Twins. Tony leapt to his feet and protectively stood in front of Clint; although, what he thought he could actually do against three armed men, he didn't know.

"Ah, I see your friend is still sleeping. Perhaps you would like for us to wake him," Head-honcho said, motioning to his guards.

The guards moved toward the unconscious archer, but Tony wasn't going to stand for it. He started throwing punches, feeling great satisfaction as he connected with the men. His victory was short-lived, though. The men quickly recovered and Tweedledee threw a mighty right hook, catching Tony in the face and splitting his lip. Before Tony could recover, Tweedledum caught his temple with a vicious punch, sending the billionaire to the ground before they moved toward Clint again.

"No! No! You can't take him!" Tony yelled as he scrambled to his feet and placed himself between the men and the unconscious archer once more.

Head-honcho barked something in Arabic and the men stopped.

"Perhaps you would care to take his place?" he said in English.

Tony paused. He knew what the man was doing. He was playing mind games. He didn't just want to hurt Tony; if so he wouldn't be going through this whole song and dance. He would have just taken Tony by force. But instead, he wanted Tony to volunteer, to give in and submit to him.

Tony looked at Clint a moment. He was under no illusions as to what would be awaiting him if he agreed. But he also had no doubt that Head-honcho wouldn't hesitate to hurt Clint just to make Tony suffer and break. Tony had already lost one friend to the man's brother, and he didn't want to lose another. He hadn't been able to save Yinsen, but just maybe he could save Clint.

"If I take his place, will you leave him alone?" Tony asked, already pretty sure of the answer.

"If you submit, then your friend will go untouched," Head-honcho confirmed.

"Deal," he agreed without hesitation.

Head-honcho barked something to the guards and they grabbed Tony, jerked his shoes and remaining shirt off, and tossed them next to Clint. Then they grabbed Tony by the arms and led him from the cell. True to his word, he didn't fight them. He let himself be led from the room and down the hallway where he was pulled into another room and dragged to stand in the center of the seemingly empty space.

He watched curiously as Tweedledee walked over to some contraption on one wall and cranked a handle. He heard a jingling from above him and looked up to see some chains hanging from the ceiling, which lowered with every crank of the handle. Tony got an uneasy feeling as he began to understand what was about to happen. Just as he expected, once the chains were at chest level, Tweedledum grabbed his bound hands and attached them to the chains.

He stood there, hands dangling at chest level for a few minutes before Head-honcho entered the room. Tony vaguely took note of the fact that all three men were now masked, but he didn't have time to think about why because, at a signal from his leader, Tweedledee began cranking the handle again. Tony's hands began to rise higher and higher. The cranking continued until he was suspended in the air, his shoulders aching, and his feet swinging about a foot off the ground. Tony focused on keeping his breathing calm and as deep as he could as his shoulders and wrists began to throb.

Head-honcho stood behind Tony, and at a signal from him, the two guards began to pummel the billionaire with their fists. Tony gritted his teeth and refused to make a sound other than the occasional grunt. But it was when a fist connected with an already-tender spot on his side, and he heard—and felt—something crack, that he couldn't hold back a scream, but he did muffle it. Eventually, they stopped, and Tony worked on catching his breath. Even though he knew it would probably only make things worse, Tony still couldn't resist taunting them a bit.

"That all you got?"

Tony was soon to regret those words, though. His breath caught and he felt his blood turn cold as he watched Tweedledee place a coil of leather into Head-honcho's outstretched hand. It took Tony only a split second to recognize the leather for what it was. A bullwhip.

Tony's breathing accelerated as he fought to keep control. Head-honcho moved behind him and Tony tensed in anticipation. He jumped violently at the sudden deafening crack as Head-honcho popped the whip. The pain Tony expected never came, though, and it took him a minute to realize that he hadn't been hit. Yet. His heart pounded and his breaths came in short gasps. His whole body tensed like a coiled spring and there was nothing he could possibly do to make himself relax.

He didn't have to wait like that for long, though, as there was another loud snap, this one accompanied by a searing pain in his back. Tony could only muffle the scream that tried to rip its way from his throat. Lash after lash tore into his back with a horrible crack. With each stripe of agony, Tony fought to restrict his pained cries, but was only partially successful. Finally, it stopped, and Tony was left panting and shuddering as he swung from the ceiling. His wrists and shoulders screamed at him, and he could no longer feel his hands, but he could feel something wet rolling down his back and he was pretty sure it wasn't sweat.

He saw Tweedledee walk over to a small table that he hadn't noticed before, and pick something up. As he returned, Tony was able to see that the man was holding a knife.

Well, this probably isn't going to be fun, Tony thought.

"Is there any chance that's for cutting some cheese to go with some wine?" Tony asked as he looked at the knife.

His only answer was a swift cut across his chest just below his collarbones. He grunted more from surprise than the pain, although there was plenty of that too. Another cut took residence underneath the first, this one made by Tweedledum who also had a knife. Tweedledee followed with a third cut, which was actually two cuts, one on each side of his arc reactor. This continued until he had six (or five and two halves) cuts across his chest. On the last cut, the knife was brought across his torso, but instead of a straightforward cut like the others, this one took a lifetime as the knife was slowly dragged across his flesh.

Despite his best efforts, Tony let out a muffled cry. Once the cut was made, Tweedledum stepped back and Tony breathed a sigh of relief. But the instant he relaxed, he was suddenly doused with something wet and a millisecond later his chest and back exploded in white hot agony. There was no way to hold back, muffle, or otherwise control the scream that burst from him. It seemed a lifetime before the pain finally eased. As the pain approached bearable, and his wits began to return to him, a word drifted through his muddled thoughts.

Alcohol!

They had thrown alcohol on him.

"Sorry about that," Head-honcho said in a tone that made it clear that he was anything but. "We don't want you getting some kind of infection. Now do we?"

If Tony had had the strength to spit in the man's face, he would have, but as it was, he simply hung there, panting and trembling, and at first he didn't even notice that the ground was growing closer as the chains were lowered. But when his feet finally touched the floor again, his legs refused to hold him up and he buckled to the ground, his arms screaming as his circulation was restored. He laid on his side, just trying to catch his breath as Tweedledum untied his hands.

"I believe Mr. Stark has had enough for now. Go get Barton," Head-honcho ordered his men.

Somewhere, Tony found the strength to snap his head up and glare at the men. "You can't! You said you would leave him alone if I took his place!" Tony yelled (or he tried to but his voice came out as a hoarse croak), partially outraged and partially desperate.

Head-honcho held up a hand and the men stopped. "I did say that, didn't I?" he said. "All right, Mr. Stark, your friend is safe. For now."

Tony's body went slack with relief. What he went through, what he had endured, was only worth it if it appeased the sadistic madman enough to keep Clint out of the line of fire. If his pain ultimately spared the archer, then, and only then, would this nightmare have any meaning for him.

Tony was dragged out of the room, his legs still refusing to work properly. He was thrown into his cell where he wobbly landed on his hands and knees. He stayed there for several minutes until he felt he could move without falling on his face. He managed to slowly crawl over to Clint's side and check the archer's condition. Finding Clint still unconscious but all right, Tony allowed himself to collapse next to his friend and give into the ever increasing pull of sleep.

)()()(

"Boss, the video has been sent to SHIELD," the man, who Tony had taken to referring to as Tweedledum, said. "If I may ask, why didn't you send any demands?"

"Because I don't want anything from them," Tweedledum's boss, also known as Head-honcho, answered.

"Then why send the video at all?"

"I said I didn't want anything from them, but I do want them to watch the video and feel the pain and helplessness of knowing there is nothing they can do to help their friend."

"Oh, I see," Tweedledum said.

Head-honcho started to leave the room, but stopped at the door and turned back.

"Don't forget to feed and water Stark in a few hours. I don't want him dying too soon," he said with an evil grin.

Then Tweedledum watched his boss leave the room and made a mental note to never get on the man's bad side.