Hi everyone! I'm so, so sorry for the extended break this story seems to have been on but I've been ill with a huge workload, which as I'm sure you can imagine, is not a great combination. As well as that, I was struggling a bit with where I wanted this story to go. But, as you can see from this update, this story has not been abandoned and I think I know how it will conclude in a few chapters, which is exciting! This chapter isn't perfect, and it's a bit short, but I figured I'd kept you waiting long enough. Enjoy!

Part 4

So that was how Tony found himself casually walking towards a complex that belonged to a known extremist group, hands in the air and whistling a nonchalant tune under his breath. He sees the masked figure approaching him from behind but pretends not to and to be taken by surprise when they grab him and hit him over the head with what looks (and feels) like, an iron bar. Seriously, he thinks, as the world swirls and he drifts into the blackness of unconsciousness, why do kidnappers always have an iron bar? Like, do they just randomly carry one round with them on the off chance they feel like doing some kidnapping? Lame.

And then the darkness claims him and when he wakes up, his arms are chained above his head in a dark storage closet he last saw on a grainy film in a S.H.E.I.L.D conference room.

"Wow. They really need to work on their hospitality."

He's rewarded for his groggy statement with a few chuckles.

"Tony. How nice of you to drop in."

"You know me Clint, never could resist a good party."

Clint laughs wirily.

"But in all seriousness," Steve chips in. ", what the hell were you thinking?"

"That I chucked the Arc Reactor in the ocean so we're all up shit creek without a paddle unless I can pull something awesome out of my ass, which, let's face it, is more than likely."

"Fury put you up to this didn't he?" Natasha interrupts.

"No!" Tony hastily denies.

He can practically feel Natasha's death glare through the gloom.

"Yes."
"Thought so." Natasha sounds vindicated. "So what's his brilliant plan?"

"Er….there isn't one?" Tony hazards.

There's a brief, appalled silence.

"What do you mean, there's no plan?" Natasha says, slowly, over enunciating every word in her fury.

"I figured I'd just keep them talking until S.H.E.I.L.D gets here?"

It's not just Natasha's glare he can feel through the gloom.

"What do you mean, there is no Arc Reactor?"

Tony grins nonchalantly at his interrogator, just to piss him off. He's good at that.

"That I chucked it in the ocean. Probably fish food by now. Seriously, you guys should have told me you were after one, I'd have saved it for you. Well, probably wouldn't have but it's the thought that counts."

He thinks he's being pretty funny, all things considered. Judging by the fist that just connected with the side of his head, his interrogator doesn't share the same sense of humour.

"Tony Stark. You think you're so tough. So hard. Rich coming from the man who couldn't protect his own girlfriend…"

Tony knows where this is going. His breath is already quickening as he fights to stay calm."

"…who fell out of the sky like a rag doll because his precious didn't protect him. What are you without that suit, Stark?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tony's reminded of something Steve once said to him but that's overshadowed by the need to keep breathing, in and out.

In and out.

But it's too late and never mind shrapnel, his real weakness is his ability to lose it after a few short words.

Fell out of the sky like a rag doll.

He'd thought he was over this. Thought that thing with the Mandarin had put everything into perspective.

But as the sound of rushing water fills his head, as dimly somewhere in the background he hears someone shouting his name and remembers too late that the team had no idea New York had messed him up this badly, he knows he's a long way from 'over it'.

Hope you enjoyed it; if you can spare a minute, I'd love to know what you think!