Chapter Text
Shit.
As far as mission failures could go, this one takes the cake. Tony sat in the back of a windowless, white van with his wrists bound by a pair of power-restricting handcuffs. Cliche and overboard. Hydra really outdid themselves this time. It was obvious to him that Tony Stark being the Avenger apprehended was not Hydra’s original plan. Regardless, any Avenger is better than no Avenger. The back of the van was empty, except for Tony and a Hydra agent wielding a gun. The stranger didn’t let their eyes move away from the billionaire, even when the vehicle hit an unexpected divot in the road. This was the 3rd day Tony had spent as a captive and marked the 7th vehicle transfer. Whether that was to disorient him or shake the other heroes, Stark was unsure but that didn’t really matter right now. Tony had had other, more important things on his mind recently.
Peter.
6 months ago, Peter Parker went missing. The boy had worked as an intern at Stark Industries through its high school partnership program. He showed promise and drew Stark’s attention, leading him to bring the kid on as a long-term intern, working directly in Tony’s lab. This was (mostly) a cover up for the real reason why he brought Parker under his wing. In reality, the teen was Spiderman. He became a mentor for Peter, in the lab and as a hero. The kid had gone through a lot and Tony didn’t want to see him struggle to balance his everyday life with the life his moral code forced upon him. Tony hadn’t stopped searching since that night, but nothing had come up yet. He was starting to get desperate. Every lead he had come across had gone cold. He had the suspicion that Hydra was behind his pupil’s disappearance, but it didn’t make any sense. Why would they go after Peter Parker? From the outside, he was just a normal kid. Tony and the Avengers had been very careful to keep Peter’s secret from the rest of the world.
The Hydra lead was actually why Tony had been captured. The team was investigating a suspected Hydra base in Virginia. Tony only joined in on the mission to investigate for leads on Peter. Instead of finding the kid, he found himself encased in his own non-functioning suit thanks to Hydra’s electro-magnet bombs. His suit was rendered useless. It was embarrassing. He wasn’t even able to open the mask. Now, the Avengers would have to rescue Tony and Peter. He was losing time. Every second he was in Hydra’s control meant Peter’s chances of being found alive dropped.
“Jesus Christ. How long is this going to take?” Tony spoke, being sure not to grace his captor with the gift of his vision. He was met with only silence.
There was a metal divider between his holding area and the driver’s cab, making sure he can’t contact his chauffeur or see the state of the outside world. This was going to kill him– probably literally. Tony wasn’t certain if Hydra had a use for him, aside from producing weaponry for them, but they probably had countless weapons dealers and genocidal inventors already on retainer. Yes, he was a genius when it came to tech, but Stark was a pain to work with under normal circumstances. Captivity was a whole different ball game.
Tony felt the van slow to a stop beneath him. He could hear the doors to the cab open and slam shut. A brief muffled conversation happened outside, but he couldn’t tell what it was about. He sat in the van for 15 minutes before his guard’s radio crackled to life.
“Perimeter secure. Bring in the prisoner.”
Finally.
Before he can rejoice in the knowledge he’ll be able to leave the vehicle, a bag is shoved over his head. The guard, jamming the barrel of his gun into Tony’s shoulder drags him to his feet and shoves him to the end of the van before banging on the side of the truck twice. Two sets of hands grab onto his biceps, forcing him out of the van. He stumbles, unsure of where the ground begins, but the hands do not let him fall. They drag him forward, forcing Tony to decide if he would attempt to recover his step or be raked through the dirt. He manages to find his footing, walking along with the too-fast pace. The air clings to his skin, hot and heavy. The humidity combined with the bag makes breathing difficult, but he’s sure that's what they want. It’ll make him easier to handle.
Eventually, dirt and grass change into wood and water. Occasionally, Tony’s feet are hit with a burst of water, soaking his socks and the bottom of his pants. What he can only assume are birds cry overhead: seagulls. The birds and water clue him in that he’s still probably on the east coast. Or, at least, he hopes he's still on the east coast. They weren’t driving that long to end up in the west… he thinks. Tony is tired. He barely slept since Hydra stuffed him in that van and he hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since Peter disappeared. He is exhausted.
Tony takes another step, but is tripped by a step on what he assumes is a dock. Instead of catching him, the arms allow him to fall. He lands on his face hard. He’s left on the ground as a male voice laughs at his current position. A hand retakes its place on Tony’s arm, dragging him up and placing him in a seat. His body sways in a circular motion, moving with the new surface: a boat.
Great. Just what I need. Another transport.
He rolls his eyes, but no one sees, thanks to the bag. Three more bodies pile into the boat. One sits beside him, leaving one in front and one behind. He can feel the guard next to him hold something large, which he suspects is a gun. He can’t fight. An engine starts up behind him. He can’t run. Water hits the sides of the launch with a natural intensity. He definitely can’t swim.
Tony Stark is screwed.
~
They were on the water for what felt like an eternity. The boat tossed back and forth, making Tony feel nauseous. Through the bag and waves, he never heard the sound of other boats, so they were probably pretty isolated.
The passengers were silent. Tony hated silence. Even as he worked, he needed music or conversation. If it weren’t for the fact that many of his senses were currently restricted, leaving him to rely on his hearing, he would’ve been dishing out some of his Stark snarkiness he’d developed a reputation for. Well, if it weren’t for the gun. He still wasn’t too sure if Hydra actually wanted or needed him alive, so he decided not to tempt fate. Peter needed him. He needed Tony to stay alive, or else they would probably both die. Tony couldn’t live with that on his conscience, let alone die. So, he strained to hear any information that would give him clues on his current location.
He had already gathered that they were somewhere off a coast and it was probably remote. He wasn’t too sure if this coast was a lake or ocean, but due to the general humidity and saltiness in the air, the ocean felt like a safer bet. He also couldn’t be in Alaska or Hawaii, so he had narrowed it down to about 10% of the US landmass.
Tony didn’t realize that the boat had finally come to a stop. He felt a hand grab his arm again, forcing him up on his feet. He climbed out of the boat with little grace, due to his restricted vision. This new ground felt sandy, his shoes sinking into the dune beneath him. He was sent forwards, into the unknown.
~
The cool air felt like heaven, but the elevator felt like hell. Tony still had a bag over his head, so he wasn’t too sure it was an elevator, but it felt like an elevator. As far as Tony was concerned, that made it an elevator.
It descended for what felt like 10 minutes before it finally let them off on their floor. He was marched down hallways, through a labyrinth of hallways with twists and turns and locks and keys. Again, Tony tried to make any sort of mental map he could, but it didn’t stick. He had already committed the boat ride and guard from the van to memory, plus his journey through the top floor. It was a lot to take in for a man with a bag over his head. He couldn’t take his entourage in a straight fight, let alone with the weapons Tony assumed they carried. They didn’t exactly feed him in the days since he was first captured, and he hadn’t exactly slept since then either. He was weak, tired, and hungry. That was a bad recipe for a fight. He currently had 3 Hydra agents with him. One in front, one behind, and one at his arm. He decided it would be better to allow the three to bring him to his cell and make a plan from there. Tony heard the whir of electronics, followed by the sounds of a door unlocking and opening. They moved him forward into a new room. They took a few steps forward before he was pushed off to his right, the hand on his arm disappeared. He stumbled forward, catching himself before he could fall.
“Up against the wall.” A deep voice sounded from one of the Hydra agents. The voice was deep, probably male. The speaker had a thick eastern European accent, but Tony wasn’t too sure where exactly it was from. A hand grasped Tony’s shoulder, hard, and pushed him forward until his body found something hard. The cool metal barrel of a gun met his temple as the hand was removed. He felt that someone had directed their attention to the cuffs placed on his wrists. He finally felt the handcuffs release from his hands. The bag was also removed from his head, allowing a wall of light and fresh air to finally hit him. He stood still against the wall and allowed his eyes to adjust to the light. He could feel the gun move away from his head. Footsteps echoed away from the man before a small metal click sounded. Now being able to see, Tony attempted to absorb his surroundings.
The cell had 3 walls made up of brick, the type you’d find in a school, and were painted gray. The 4th wall was glass with a metal door. A metal toilet sat in front of the door with a similar sink sitting next to it. Thankfully, the sink seemed to block whatever might happen in the bathroom from anyone standing in front of the large window, so Tony would have some privacy. A padded, navy mat was on the floor in front of the glass. A singular pillow and a thin blanket sat folded on top. That was all the room held. A pale yellow light came down from the ceiling fixtures.
Tony moved his gaze towards the glass, finding who must have been responsible for his transport. All three wore the same thing: black pants, black long sleeves, and a military vest with a tactical helmet. The vest’s right breast pocket had a Hydra logo stitched into it. Two carried weapons, one more than Tony expected. The gun-less soldier- the one in the center- stood, smirking at Stark.
“When’s dinner?” Tony asked, laying the sarcasm on thick.
A part of him was actually asking. It had been at least 3 days since he’d last eaten and was starving. The guard narrowed his eyes in response. The three Hydra men turned to leave in the direction they had brought Tony, leaving him alone. He heard the whir of the door, it shut, and the whir sound again. Electronic lock. Figures. He looked back at his new room. It was definitely not the worst cell he’d ever been in. Actually for Hydra, this was pretty cozy. Normally, they wouldn’t give out pillows or sleeping pads. They were also bigger than his typical cell. If Tony had to guess, the room was 6’x10’, meaning he could lay flat on his back without his feet hitting the other wall or the toilet, if he laid parallel with the longer wall. He turned to look back into the hallway. There were about 4 cells in this hallway, all being identical. The only difference between the 3 other cells was that the cell directly across from Tony’s was occupied.
The prisoner was laid on their sleeping pad, covered by the blanket. It was a thin blanket, which allowed Tony to see the outline of the figure’s arms. They were muscular, but lean. A pool of curly brown hair fell on the pillow. He assumed it was a male due to the hair and frame, but wasn’t completely sure. The body laid facing the wall, so he couldn’t see his face. He sat completely still, except for the slight movements required to breathe.
“Hey! Sleeping Beauty!” Tony raised his voice, knocking his knuckles on the glass wall. He got no response. “Come on man, don’t give me the cold shoulder!”
The body began to adjust, but continued to face the wall. The stranger removed a hand from under the blanket, lifting the entire arm in the air. It took Tony a second to register what the man was doing, but once he saw the solitary middle finger, he understood. His new neighbor had given Tony Stark the bird.
“Jackass…” Tony muttered under his breath. He turned to sit on his mat. It gave little cushion, but was better than the floor. He had been kidnapped, after all. The last thing Tony should have been thinking about right now was beds. “Can you at least respond? Tell me how long you’ve been here? Or why?”
Silence.
“I’m Tony, by the way.”
Nothing.
Tony let out a deep, annoyed sigh. He knew the person across the hall was awake and heard him. He was ignoring him on purpose. “Do you at least know when they feed us? They’ve been starving me for the past 3 days.”
The stranger took a deep breath. He removed his blanket and sat up, still facing the wall. He began to turn on his butt to face Tony, dark curls falling messily around his face. After finishing his turn, he sat still for several seconds with his head down, hair covering the upper half of his head. He slowly picked his head up, using a hand to push the unwieldy curls back into place so he could see, unobstructed. Tired brown eyes cut into Tony.
“Jesus Christ.”
It was Peter Parker.
Shit.