Day 5 (First Hour)
Every day after that, Steve would visit with the same bowl of tasteless porridge, three times a day. Tony had started calculating. Based on how much time had lapsed between one meal and the next, he was certain Steve would come in soon with dinner. The delay between dinner and the next would always be the longest. Delays between breakfast and lunch, then lunch and dinner were evenly spaced. He would bet on the HYDRA Supreme's life that Steve would poke his traitorous head through that door with his dinner in three, two –
And there Steve was. Accurate to the imaginary minute hand.
"How are you, Tony?"
Steve did that always, too. He would announce his arrival with a curt click of the door and some whimsical small talk. Today it was about his wellbeing, how nice. Yesterday it was about the thunderstorm. The day before Steve was sullen, and he was rougher with his feeding. Tony's bottom lip cut against his incisor – he bled – and Steve had the decency to look abashed.
"It's Friday," Steve said some more, and offered the first spoonful of porridge. His mood was cheerier, his voice lighter to the ears. "We don't get together often on Friday evenings. The kids would be out. Luke and Jessica with the baby."
They'd spent many, many Fridays together. Steve didn't go out often because of the crowd, and even if he did, it was mostly alone on his bike, incognito. Tony had his galas and crazy night-outs. But, sometimes, many sometimes, they'd kick back and talk. Just talk. A man to a man, brother to brother.
"There will be a military demonstration in the desert next week. We can watch it remote from here. I'd like you to join us."
Tony stopped chewing the carrot bits when he realised what Steve was offering. A chance to get out of this heck of a room, for sure – but, Steve had been most wary when it came to dealing with Tony Stark. Five days in and his toothbrush was still chained to the wall. They wouldn't allow him the newspapers, fearing he would turn it into the next coming of smart artillery. Having a chance to explore beyond this cell, what gave?
"Why?" Tony rasped, and Steve too was astounded. This was his first word to Steve since he went full-on HYDRA. "Why would you want me there?"
"… I thought you would like to see what we did with your science. It doesn't compare to your Sol Hammer, of course, but I think you'll be proud of what we had achieved."
Bullshit. Tony accepted another spoonful of porridge, and said no more. The cogs and gears in his brain were slowly turning.
"Next week? When?"
"You'll see. I'll come and get you."
"In how many days?"
"… It doesn't matter, does it?"
"It's my fifth day here." Steve stopped stirring the porridge, his face having gone slack. "Since I woke up. This," Tony looked piercingly at the bowl in Steve's lap, "is lunch."
"… Impressive. I made sure to remove traces of time in this room."
Of course Steve did. Tony knew the methods. He'd been worked over enough times in the past to save himself from the effects. Once again, Steve underestimated how resilient a Stark was. That would become his undoing.
"You've improved much quicker than I expected."
"You could've killed me," Tony cut in swiftly. The thought often played on his mind. "There wasn't a Plan B if you did. I gave you the means to restart my body. Clearly you didn't bother with it. What do you want from me?"
Steve sighed, and planted the bowl of porridge in Tony's hands. It was still too heavy for him to manage, and his fingers trembled with the effort. "You have precedents, Tony. I remember the first Civil War. You don't, and that's a problem. You always squirrel out of the toughest times, somehow. It could be a memory wipe, the Extremis, an entire covert organisation at your heel – I choose to err on the side of caution this time. This is my highest form of compliment, Tony. You are a dangerous man to go up against." Steve nodded at the bowl again. "Eat. There's still a lot left."
Tony took the spoon with jittery fingers, and helped himself to more porridge. Satisfied, Steve continued, "Anyway, Carol was first to recover your body. Wouldn't let anyone near you, not even me. And I let her. Your near-death destroyed her. Hank decided it was best to put you under until they could figure out what to do with you, so… I didn't bring up your express instructions."
Tony couldn't anymore. His thumb slipped and the spoon clattered on the floor. He flinched, and accidentally upended his bowl that the rest of the porridge pooled in his lap, and the bowl joined the mess near Steve's ankle. Steve didn't say a word, and Tony's heart began to beat in frenzy. His Steve would've dashed over to the kitchen sink for a towel to mop things up, assured him that he got this and ordered Tony's helpful bots back to their charging stations.
"… What a waste," Steve muttered, and it frightened Tony dearly. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"No – no, I'm fine –"
Tony couldn't get away far enough fast enough. Steve grabbed him by the arm, and reeled him in with a single tug. He carried Tony towards the other hole in the wall. It had no door, only a tarp to serve as a barrier between the main cell and the adjoined bathroom. Simplistically but thoughtfully designed, Steve set Tony in the tub, and busied himself with the shower head.
"Have you been in here, Tony? I don't think you're strong enough to walk in by yourself." Oh, he managed, all right. He crawled, and he rolled, and he dragged himself into this very tub, but he managed. "Strip."
Tony curled up against the corner of the tub and stared at Steve with wide open eyes.
"Take off your clothes. I'll wash you."