Chapter Text
The whole mission had been a cluster fuck from the get go. Sweating and cursing under his breath, Tony ran like hell itself was on his heels. Or worse: Pepper with a vengeance.
It was only the third time he was allowed to get into the Iron Man suit after his last cluster fuck – which had totally not been his fault! – and of course the maniac of the day not only used magic – fucking magic – no, she teleported all of the Avengers onto her private island to hunt them for sport.
She told them so. Over the speakers all over this tropical island that Tony was absolutely certain didn’t exist on earth – or was at least cut off from it somehow. This was some freaking Hunger Games rip off and Tony had it.
Worse still, tech didn’t work here. At all. Not their comms he had designed. Not the high-tech weapons. Not even his suit. Tony was fuming and if the asshole stepped in front of him, he would kill her with his bare hands out of cold principle.
If all of that wasn’t bad enough the asshole had split them up, probably dropping them all over the island and as luck had it, he had been kidnapped – of course – and strung up like a doll on a stone wall in a castle ruin – which had no right to be on this island, which was actually one of the clues making Tony think all of this was somehow fabricated.
Cap had found him before their kidnapper could return, rescued him – which was as flattering as it was embarrassing – and since then they were running through the humidity that made it hard to breath. At least it made it hard for Tony. It also made his hair curl and that was even worse.
Because Tony had been in the armor, he wore nothing more than a thin undersuit. No shoes. Because who needed shoes while running through something that for all Tony knew, was a poor copy of the rain forest. He wasn’t a botanist, okay?
Steve made another sharp turn right in front of him and Tony struggled to follow Captain America who was faster, could actually breath and wore combat boots. Fine branches slapped him and he hissed when something with thorns ripped at his sides, arms, legs and – actually they ripped at all of him.
Nature sucked.
He was about to tell Steve that, but for that he would have needed to have oxygen. He hadn’t.
“You okay, Tony?” Steve glanced over his shoulder, slowing his tempo a little to lessen the distance between them. So that Tony could have a chance keeping up with him.
“…aces…” Tony wheezed, praying to every entity that might or might not exist to just end his suffering right here and now.
“Just a little further.” The concern in the blue eyes grew and Tony would have snapped at him to fucking quit it – if he had the breath for it. This got old fast.
A couple minutes later Steve slowed down. He was barely out of breath and Tony hated him for it. He himself was wheezing hard enough he probably would have thrown up if he managed it. He – thankfully – didn’t. Instead, he planted his hands on his thigs and tried to get enough lungs in his oxygen. Enough oxygen in his lungs. God, he hated this day.
“Breathe.” A big warm hand was on his back, rubbing soothing circles and the only reason that Tony didn’t kill the super soldier right there and then was his traitorous body that relaxed under the touch.
“Okay?” Cap asked as soon as Tony was able to breath more easily. There were still dark spots dancing in front of his eyes but they had lessened considerably.
“Peachy.” He stood up, inhaling, holding for a second and exhaling slowly. “So, where are we?”
“I’ve got no clue.”
“Awesome.”
“Not so much.”
“The others?”
“Haven’t seen them.”
“Great.”
Cap shook his head, frustrated. “We don’t even know who forced us here!”
“A nut job, obviously.” Tony dismissed, turning in a circle to take in the surrounding environment. It took him almost a minute to realize what was missing.
“It’s too clean.”
“What?” Steve turned towards him, worry still written all over his face.
“Look around.” Tony indicated the grass, the trees, the flowers. All of it.
“Okay?” He looked around. “It’s a forest.”
“Yes, like the Hollywood version of a forest.” Tony stopped. “I know next to nothing about nature” wasn’t that the truth, “but all this?” He threw his arms open, indicating everything around him. “There is grass on the ground. Only grass. No moss, no disturbed places. We haven’t seen one insect yet. Not one. In something that looks like the romanticized version of the rain forest?” Bruce would be so proud that he had actually listened to those documentaries he had forced him to watch.
Steve frowned. “There are no noises.”
Shit. He was right. It was eerily quiet. Not even a single bird was singing.
“What is going on?” Steve turned towards Tony again and his fair complexion went pale.
“Tony!” He yelled taking a step forward but before he could do anything else Tony was hit with something full force and flung through the air, hitting a tree with his side.
Biting back on the pained scream, Tony made himself move. Agony raced through him as he moved his rips and tried to burden his right hand. It didn’t matter. Looking up, and fighting the spotty vision, he saw Steve fight a… was that a fucking griffin?
Steve, no, Captain America grabbed his shield, throwing himself between the not really existing mythological creature – that had an impressive sharp beak and lion claws and was at least twice the size of Tony – and Tony.
“Cap!”
“Get out of here, Tony!”
“Not without-”
“I’m faster than you! Just get out-” He was interrupted when the griffin jumped forward, attacking him with his claws. Was it a he? Not the point.
Looking around Tony cursed this fairytale forest because there was not even a branch lying around, nothing to help Steve. Nothing to protect him with. Of course, Tony wouldn’t mind throwing himself between Steve and that beast, but he was almost certain the soldier wouldn’t really be appreciative about it.
Cap, the noble idiot, flung his shield at the beast. As if it had been waiting for it, the griffin knocked it out of the air with a paw before striking lightning fast, ripping a long wound in his left arm.
“Steve!” His cry was drowned out by a screech that was part eagle, part lion as far as Tony was concerned, and wholly pissed off.
The beast in front of them made an answering cry, shaking his head in an annoyed fashion. Blood dripped from its yellow beak in a colorful contrast. Okay, so maybe Tony had another concussion. God, the others would never let him get out ever again.
Steve had retreated, pressing down on his bleeding arm, eyeing his Shield that was out of his reach – and not the problem at the moment.
“Steve!” Tony pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain pulsing along his side. “We have to-”
It was that moment that the other griffin, a smaller one, stalked out of the trees right beside Tony. The pale-yellow eyes fixated on him not hiding its hatred whatsoever. Could eagle eyes be full of hatred? Tony didn’t know, but griffins could pull it off without a hitch.
“Fuck.”
Steve glanced from his griffin to the one eyeing up Tony. There was desperation in his eyes when he looked at Tony, basically pleading him to not do something stupid.
He was going to do something stupid.
“You take the big one I’m taking care of Stuart Little over here and we meet up in what, thirty minutes?” Tony forced his voice to be light. Steve was almost panicking already and that wouldn’t help him one bit in his fight. Tony had no doubt whatsoever that Steve would win.
“Tony…” There was pleading in his name and a command.
“As if some bird-wanna-be can kill me.” Tony let a deadly smile slip onto his lips. No one had managed it until today and some chicken wing certainly wouldn’t change it.
“Thirty.” He repeated before he turned and ran as fast as he could straight into the thickest bushes behind him.
The beast screeched again and Tony would have sworn it had a delighted undertone, while the crashing behind him started.
Ignoring the pain, the searing agony when he tried to breath and the ice-cold fear in his stomach because he was leaving Steve behind, he forced himself to run faster. Dodging low hanging branches. Jumping over stones and barely brain himself on another one.
Every step rattled his injuries. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer. Actually, he was surprised he had been able to run as far as he had already. Stumbling, he caught himself with his right hand and couldn’t bite back a yelp of pain.
Forcing himself to keep running, he tried to guess the distance of the not-existing-bird-lion-hybrid that was trying to have him as a snack, but failed miserably without Jarvis and more data how sound behaved in this unknown terrain. Give him some streets of New York and he’d be able to tell you exactly how far away the thing currently trying to skin him was, but in a forest? He needed more than just his ears.
And even if he knew that, how could he know it would work in this place?
He pushed himself through a bush, biting back another cry of pain – and then of dismay. There was a stone wall right in front of him. One glance upward made two things abandonly clear: Firstly, he wouldn’t climb that. It was too smooth even if he had two working hands (and griffins could fly). Secondly, they really were in some Battle Royale scenario. There was just no way this mountain was real. He hadn’t seen it before almost running into it, there was no sign of weather marks, of natural decline and it seemed to go on forever in all directions.
His musings had cost Tony precious seconds. Starting to run again, he hoped to every entity out there that Steve was fine. That he had been able to get the shield or got out of there. Or even better: He got the Shield and got out of there.
He was so concentrated on Steve, he almost missed the gab in the smooth massive stone wall. It was a split of a heartbeat decision. He ran past it.
This was too easy. It seemed too perfect. Whatever was going on, Tony was certain someone was manipulation reality around them. That meant not only that he couldn’t trust the terrain (perfect) it was possible that if he met with his teammates they wouldn’t be themselves either.
This just got a lot more interesting.
The next screech of the griffin sounded closer. This, of course, could be because of the stone to his right throwing the sound back better. Tony didn’t believe he was that lucky.
Fighting against the black spots in his vision, he almost missed the next gab in the wall. It was just a little wider, the stone around it a little lighter than the anthracite. It had basically a sign enter here above it.
As if one cue the beast screeched again, even louder and more aggressive than before.
Not chancing it, Tony didn’t look back. This felt too much like a set-up, or a horror flick from the eighties. He would have bet his suit that he would stumble as soon as he moved his head.
If he was right – and he too often was – that did give him somewhat of an advantage. At least if he could avoid the obvious tropes. On the other hand, whatever happened here could change any second. (He would do anything to not end up in a hospital drama.)
Worse still, Steve didn’t have a clue about eighties horror movies. Or horror movies altogether. He wouldn’t be able to recognize the signs. He would see the tactical advantage of a cave to hide in and do it. There was just no telling what-
Fuck.
Whatever or whoever was doing this had obviously had enough. Out of nowhere the stone wall – in a 90-degree angle, Tony might add, that just couldn’t be of natural origin – made a dead end he was running into. To his right, the only way left to him, was a thick undergrowth with multicolored thorns that screamed poison or acid or whatever hell the sick fucker had planned for Tony.
The worst part was the gab literally welcoming him in with almost white markings all around it. Did they think he was that blind or stupid that he hadn’t seen the other entrances? Or maybe they thought it would be more appealing like this?
Coming to a stop right in front of the entrance, he turned. It wasn’t really a contest, getting eaten by a bird or getting into whatever was waiting inside of the cave.
The bird would win any day.
Even if it was a griffin with an expression as if Tony himself had cursed his very existence. Maybe he had. Maybe it had been created solely to hunt him. That was a depressing thought.
If someone asked him it was his rebellious streak. He wouldn’t play the game someone wanted him to play. He was Iron Man! He would make his own game and force them to play it.
It absolutely had nothing to do with the lingering terror that was the reoccurring memories of that cave.
The griffin – that was still suspiciously far away, stalked closer, his predatory eyes fixed on Tony.
Trying to get his breathing under control – breathing through pain was almost a hobby by now – he glared back at the creature.
“You could have killed me long before. Why didn’t you?” He asked, ignoring the huffs between the sentence.
The bird didn’t say a word – could griffins talk? He wasn’t sure. But it did seem to menacingly grin at him. He also wasn’t sure if they could do that, but it did.
“Come on!” Tony yelled, biting back the wince when it hurt like a bitch. He was sure it was only a matter of time until a rib would pierce his lung. “What do you want?” He risked a glance toward the perfectly blue sky.
Suddenly the griffin was in his face. It could have never moved this fast without making a sound. Not naturally. If they were real and all of this was real, of course.
Tony stood his ground, glaring back at the creature. There was a 73% chance whoever did this wanted them alive, wanted to play with them and-
The griffin lifted his paw and before Tony could react, backhanded him into the cave entrance, leaving him another reminder of it’s hospitality by clawing his – until that moment – uninjured side.
He crashed into the wall, screaming in agony. The cry echoed through the darkness as if it was mocking him. He couldn’t even stand his ground to a bird.
As soon as he could move, he looked towards the entrance. Most of it was covered by the griffin supposedly trying to get into the cave. One clawed paw scratching at the earth just inches from his vulnerable skin.
As if Tony would belief for one second that was more than an act.
“I’m in the cave. What now?” He croaked, trying for sassy. He failed miserably. Rolling on his back, he had to bite back another scream. A whimper escaped him nonetheless.
He dismissed the growling beside him. It had its chance and blew it. No. It had done everything to get him into the cave and now stopped him from getting out again.
While he worked on his breathing, Tony focused on his next tasks. Whoever had dragged them here, had done so with all of them. He clearly remembered all of them being pushed into the portal. That meant he had to find not only Steve but also Nat, Clint, Bruce and his honeybear – who had filled in that day because Thor was off world again. Maybe Clint was right, they would have to talk to him about his timing.
Exhaling shakily, Tony tried to push himself up. He failed. The whimper that escaped him was too miserable to be acknowledged as being real. Biting his teeth together, he tried again, and failed again.
“Fuck.”
The others needed him. Even if Steve was safe – and he didn’t know that – and even if Bruce was safe – and he didn’t know if he could Hulk out here, or what it would mean for him if he couldn’t – and even if the spy twins were safe – which was probable but no damn guaranty – Rhodey was just as human as he was. Sure, he had the superior training but without his tech he was almost as vulnerable as Tony (not that he was vulnerable, but writhing in pain he might admit he was human) and he wasn’t as used to all this shit like the others.
“Come on.” He murmured, hissing in agony when he pushed himself backwards until he hit the cave wall. Using all of his remaining strength he used it to force his battered body in a sitting position.
“Knew I could do it.”
Blinking, he glared at the griffin. It still snarled and pawed at him but the heat was gone, as if it had served its purpose. What the fuck was going on?
“Hello?”
His head twitched to the side.
“Clint?”
“Tony?”
There were running steps. Probably two people. That was good. Although they wouldn’t be too pleased to find him on the floor looking like he lost against, well, a griffin.
Trying to summon every last bit of his – to be honest – stubbornness he tried to force his useless body to stand up.
The agonized yelp when all he accomplished was to rattle his body once more was even more humiliating then being found slacking on the job.
“Tony!”
That was Bruce’s voice, desperate and worried, but without a hint of the Other Guy. This just got better and better.
A flicker in his peripheral vision motivated Tony to look into the tunnel. Seconds later, Clint (who was flat out running by now) stormed around a corner, clutching a torch.
“Shit.” The archer cursed as soon as the light touched Tony and even if he wanted to protest, because that wasn’t very polite, he had no leg to stand on. Literally.
Clint reached him first, handing the torch back to Bruce, who looked like he was already categorizing all of Tony’s injuries, he grabbed him carefully to pull him away from the entrance. It worked, even if Tony couldn’t bite back the pained whimpers.
“Christ, what happened to you?”
“I’m fine.” Tony panted.
“Clearly.” Without waiting another second, Bruce got to work, gingerly patting Tony down while Clint held the torch close enough into Tony’s face to not only sing his hair but also make him cough. Which resulted in a lot of cursing (Clint), hands trying to steady him (Bruce) and tears leaking out of Tony’s eyes (because of the smoke).
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Tony would have snapped at him, if he had the air to do it. This had already gotten ancient.
“We have to get him deeper into the cave.”
“…no…”
“Tony, we have to.”
“It’s their…plan. Don’t.”
“What plan?” Clint asked, suspiciously. “Isn’t this just a nutter off his rockers?”
“Probably.” Tony inhaled carefully, trying to sound as if he wasn’t breathing fire. “But I think they want us to play their game.”
“They usually want that.”
“Not like that, birdbrain.” He hissed, when Bruce pressed down on his ribs. “The forest was wrong. The griffin-”
“We had a run in with a fifteen-foot long lizard.”
“That fits the MO.”
“It does?” The archer asked, leaning back into the wall, clearly trying to distract Tony from Bruce’s painful examination. Not that his science bro would ever try to hurt him. Tony knew that. Still, it was hard to not snap at him to stop the probing. He couldn’t do a damn thing anyway, why bother?
Tony opened his mouth to response when he was interrupted.
“Avengers!” An excited female voice exclaimed ecstatically.
Clint jumped forward raising the torch higher, while Bruce basically threw himself before Tony.
It took Tony all of two seconds to locate the speaker wedged into the right left corner of the cave passage.
“I’m happy to announce that the groups are complete now! You lost one of your leaders already, so don’t bother looking for him.”
Tony went cold. The icy terror that had been lurking in his gut since he left Steve behind to save his worthless life swept him up, drowning him in emptiness.
He didn’t hear a word after that.