It didn't take Tony all that long to begin to lose it.
How long had it been in here? 40? 50 days? They told him it was close to 3 months now. For all Tony knew, they were right.
His head swam as he felt the cold concrete floor pushing against his hollowing cheek. A fresh cut had begin to bleed, oozing thick red blobs across his face causing one eye to shut.
When had they done that? Did he do it to himself?
He didn't know anymore.
He could hear footsteps. But he just lay there. Defeated, broken. Tony Stark had kept his lips shut but his mind was breaking.
But he'd never tell them what they wanted.
Thick hands grabbed the thin strands of his dark hair. They tugged, and it hurt. Tony found a sound creeping out of his throat as his eyes shut as tight as they possibly could. He didn't want to be here anymore.
"Will you tell us?"
"No."
And the beatings came all over again. Sharp kicks to his stomach and he was sure last time they broke a few ribs. He coughed out coppery red and took what they gave. He was passed begging now, just letting them do what they wanted to do until they got tired and left.
A fresh and sickening crack was heard and Tony twitched in pain. A loud cry was heard from him, hand moving to his other wrist, which had horrifically been stomped on. Fresh purple had quickly begun to emerge and thick throbbing swells encased around it.
How many broken bones was that now? 14? 10? He hadn't lost count. He'd lost track. He couldn't remember when the last one came or even if it existed anymore.
He was losing his mind.
Sail
II
Distance.
Steve just watched as Tony slipped. He seemed to be mumbling something under his breath, the super soldier clinging onto his shoulders, trying to keep him in place for him to just stay and tell him everything.
But this was regular now. Tony would live in memories of God knows what; and he'd only answer to certain questions.
Last night, when Natasha had given him a talking to, he just looked at her, fragile and she couldn't do it. The hardened Black Widow couldn't look at him anymore.
She had concluded to Steve that if Tony ever recovered, he'd never be the same.
"Tony, it's me. Steve. Come on." He brushed fingers across the healing face, texture rough and smooth. The strange contrast from having a cut up face in the middle of healing. "Talk to me."
Tony was still quiet, hands still burrowed deep in his pockets and the blank stare falling past him. No one had gotten a word out of the billionaire. Not until now.
No matter how many times Steve called his name, or told the inventor he was here, Tony didn't respond.
The wet forms in the corners of his eyes began to slowly drop across his cheek as seeing Tony, the life of every party to just look at him as if nothing was there anymore.
"No." Tony said.
Steve picked his eyes up, confusion washing over him as he just looked at the dark haired man. "What?"
"I won't tell you." Tony pressed his lips together tightly, when his eyes finally focused on Steve. "I won't tell you anything."
"Why?"
But Tony's brows furrowed. He just looked at the soldier and waited. Waited for something that Steve didn't know. His fingertips brushed against Tony's shoulders, rubbing across them before he pulled the other into a tight embrace. Careful of the broken ribs that had been carefully bandaged the night prior.
"Please talk to me."
Tony remained still, not flinching if the hug had hurt; but stayed completely motionless and expressionless. Like all the warmth had been squeezed out of him and there was nothing left.
He didn't say anything.