Day 2

Maybe six hours had passed by now. Maybe twelve. Time was meaningless in a room that came alight with a twitch of his arm, and went dark again if he lay still long enough. Night and day, night and day in a span of thirty minutes. Or two hours. He couldn't tell. The next time the light came on, Tony hadn't moved, so he craned his neck to the door.

Steve was there again. This time, he bore gifts.

"I brought you food. You must be starving."

He had only a bowl, but Tony didn't resent it. His stomach hadn't been used in so long he was starving, minus the appetite. A different kind of torture in which salvation was not possible. Tony sat up, and Steve sat next to him on the vacated spot. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I want only the best for you, Tony, but I must apologise for the lacklustre interior. We don't want to take any risks. If you could build Iron Man from a box of scraps, who knows what you could do with a table?" Steve held the bowl under Tony's nose, and coaxed him to take the spoon. "It's porridge. Easy on the digestion."

Tony didn't take the spoon and sat there for five whole minutes, and for those five whole minutes Steve held the bowl up patiently, the wan smile a constant on his lips. It unnerved Tony enough that he acquiesced, and pinched the surface of the porridge with his spoon. It was mercifully bland, and he swallowed the mouthful with great difficulty. He suspected Steve wouldn't have minded if he threw up on the spot, but he forced it down, and went back for a second dig. By the fifth, his spoon shook so hard Steve stilled him by the wrist, and wordlessly took it over.

"They wanted to keep you on IV," Steve said as he brought it to hover before Tony's mouth, "but I know how much you hated those tubes." Again, Tony ignored it, and Steve held it there. "I was worried when I found you in your facility. You were in a medically induced coma for an uncomfortably long time. I was afraid that I came too late." He sighed. "You were right about the Cube, Tony."

And the slightest frown betrayed his nonchalance. His mouth parted in surprise – he hadn't heard of the Cosmic Cube in quite a while – and Steve jammed the spoon between his lips, forcing the metal against his tongue and shovelling the porridge down his throat.

"Just like you always did," Steve returned to scoop for more as Tony hacked into his sleeves, "You figured the Cube out. You learned that each shard has an independent charge, some kind of residual energy base. With the single one that you had, you wished you were made whole again. Didn't work out for you, but now, Tony," Steve brought the spoon to Tony's chin again, "I have the Cube in its entirety in me. I made your wish come true. I brought you back."

Tony ate the porridge without protest, by the spoonful until he felt sick to the stomach, but he made damn sure he polished the bowl. He needed the sustenance, the strength to fight back.

"I almost lost you, Tony. I'm glad I didn't."

A lump rose in his throat, but he kept swallowing. Pushed the last of his porridge through it. Steve cradled the empty bowl in his lap and for whatever reasons, decided to wink twice at the ceiling. The effect was instantaneous. The room dimmed and across them, a series of images was displayed on the far wall, dated December 28, 2016.

So, the day he died then?

"You have close to a year's worth of catching up to do." Tony gasped, and his fingers fisted around his blanket. Steve's smirk grew wider. "I've specially compiled these information for you. Digital articles, interview transcripts, satellite images, translations from international coverages. I know you'd like to search for these yourself, but I hope you'll understand why I can't have you access the Internet unsupervised. Not yet."

He'd been asleep for close to a year? Sane doctors wouldn't allow that. A medically induced coma typically lasted a few days up to two weeks – even a month was already pushing it. Steve wouldn't allow it. Steve wouldn't – why didn't Steve wake him up? He gave Steve the SOP, all the information he would need to jumpstart this body – he trusted Steve –

"Watch and learn what HYDRA had done for the people while you were… indisposed." Steve pat him genially on his back like he always did, and left the room.

The words splayed over his retina like black paint:

HYDRA reinstates death penalty in all fifty states… reduces inmate population by a quarter… surplus of prison budget is reinvested into agriculture…

HYDRA polices America's media to manage public disdains…

HYDRA usurps Stark Industries and appropriates the energy division into R and D specifically for national weaponry –

… plans for sovereign nations to specialise in particular industries, to streamline resources and build a cohesive global community –

… annihilation of capitalism –

Even when the videos had long ended, Tony sat on his bed, as still as death, wondering when the nightmare would finally end.