Day 10 (Second Hour)

When Steve reappeared the second time that day, he had breakfast in one hand, and a thicker chain in another. Why would he even bother? Tony sat up straighter on his bed. This thin one was already doing a fantastic job.

"Superfluous, don't you think?" he pointed at his collar as Steve freed him. Steve had company – two HYDRA PA or, whatever it was on the jobs ad that HYDRA placed. They stood by the door uncompassionately as Steve worked on Tony, substituting chains for chains. They were all dogs here. Steve's dogs.

"Eat."

Oatmeal. Plain. It would do. He swallowed oatmeal like they were delicious shredded cardboard and pushed the empty bowl back to Steve. Didn't want to keep them all waiting, did he? They were supposed to go out for a walk!

Should he roll on his back, let Steve pat his stomach?

… God, help him.

"Let's go." And Tony leapt to his feet at "go". Steve wasn't surprised at how steadily he bore his own weight. Nobody was, but the guards were fingering their holsters. So, they came prepared. "The viewing deck has been prepared. I know you'll love it, Tony."

He loved viewing decks. The Avengers Tower had that feature, since they also doubled as Iron Man's landing pads. And Carol's, and Thor's, and Sam's. Other flyers' on the team. Point was, on Fourth of July's, he would take Steve out on one of the decks to watch the fireworks. They usually had companies because Captain America celebrating his hundred-something birthday in solitude? Blasphemy! They spent the night watching fireworks surrounded by friends, blood brothers and sisters. Sometimes, Tony would peel away from the gang, hang back. Let Steve mingled with the crowd.

Steve always found his way back to Tony's side.

"Let's go," Steve urged again. Tony felt a slight tug at his collar, where it was hooked to the leash in Steve's hand. "We'll be late. You two, clear the hallway."

Tony was in a better shape compared to the day he woke up to this Steve Rogers by his bed, thinking this was the same man he helped pluck from the icy depths of the English Channel. Steve must've thought the same, and then proceeded to overestimate how much improvement Tony had actually made. He walked briskly, fingers still curled cruelly around the leash, so Tony kept up. He stumbled and fumbled in Steve's shadow, eyes always on the small of Steve's back and narrow waist.

He lost his breath not a minute later, lungs cramping up with the strain of strolling down a hallway – when the sun shone on him. He halted in his tracks completely, and Steve must've noticed. There was another impatient tug at his throat but Tony didn't care. He stood rooted before the floor-to- ceiling glass window and flung his gaze to the horizon. First time he'd seen the sun, and she was… glorious. She was. She got glaring and his retinas burned with it, yet he would've watched her until the rays blinded him.

Then, Steve came to join him. "It rained a lot couple of days back."

Glad he didn't miss much the last ten days he was stuck in a windowless cell.

"See that hangar at two o'clock? It's packed full of ammunition for our fourth gen smart artillery. We're shipping a quarter of that to our allies in the East. Diplomacy can only take us so far, Tony. By the way," Steve nods at the hangar's direction, and smiles. "This is all possible thanks to you. Your designs never cease to impress."

"I don't design weapons anymore."

"The Iron Man armour. But, is it really? Or is it an excuse for old habits?" Tony's throat seized, and Steve laughed. "I will make sure to compensate you for them. Now, come. The demonstration won't start until we reach the deck, and it's still quite a distance. Can you climb the stairs? It's only three floors up."

To hell with going up.

Tony lunges for the guard closest to him. What the fuck did he just steal from the holster he had no idea – didn't care either – but it had the general shape of a pistol, a trigger and a barrel, and that was good enough for him. He shot the guard in his buttocks, then aimed it at Steve.

So sorry, so sorry –

He shot at Steve – two rounds. He couldn't process that, and by the next heartbeat he fired at the remaining guard. He didn't think – he dashed through the fire escape, and before he could descend the second flight of steps, bright white light ignited before his eyes. A fucking flashback – seriously, now? – in which Steve was about to decapitate him with the shield for real, and he made that hollow promise.

"I wanted to save you so badly. Because I wanted to be to you what you always were to me. My hero."

So sorry he kept letting Steve down.

He'd killed Steve once. Twice? Steve came back again and again. Even in death, he still had Steve's blood in his hands. He remembered, he called for the Clean Slate Protocol. He set some megatons of bombs on Steve's HYDRA ass back at the Resistance's base, didn't he? Wanted to die with Steve. Again.

Again, and again –

Tony crumpled to the ground, a hot prickle budding in his stomach. He was on his third landing. The signage said he was one floor away from first. He dragged himself forward, ignoring the inexplicable mounting pain until the very wall of his stomach fell apart in tatters. He wrapped his left arm around his middle and crawled. He got so used to crawling.

Escape. Run!

A pair of beefy arms forced him up to his knees. By now, the buzz in his mind's eye had gotten so bad he didn't register somebody speaking to him. A hand crept up the back of his head, and pulled.

"Painful, isn't it?"

Tony cracked his eyes a fraction, and watched Steve sneering down on him. He wanted to ask if Steve was OK, if the bullets were hurting Steve and he didn't mean to – but all he managed was a wrangled moan as the sear in his stomach deepened.

"Nanomachines programmed to release nociceptor-stimulating chemicals. They've invaded the mucosae of your stomach and gut. Not a pleasant experience, I'd imagined. I fed you them myself. Spiked your porridge with them."

"Herr Rogers," an unrecognisable voice greeted, and Steve turned towards the newcomer. "It's ready."

"Thank you. Change of plans, Tony." Steve grabbed him by the collar and heaved. "We're not watching the demonstration. We're going to the courtyard instead."