Archive of Our Own ^beta

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He’s not sure know how he got here, but, he’d been sitting here for a while. Just up; Awake and existing. Brain not entirely processing, well, anything really. All it knew was that he was alive and well (well, well enough to be sitting upright), and that that was a fucking miracle after what had happened. Last he remembered, he’d been lying face-down in Siberia at the hands of a certain back-stabbing super soldier and his Jesus haired, parent murdering pet assassin. Tony would’ve liked to think that Steve didn’t want to leave him that way; that afterword, he’d come to his senses and morned after him. That he’d discarded the other man and rushed to him. Told that he was sorry and that he loved-

Tony shook away his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time anyway. Right now, he needed to figure out where the fuck he was. Inevitable Heartbreak and existential crisis could come later.

(Un) Luckily, Tony had been here before. Not literally, but in the sense of (potentially) being kidnapped and locked into some rando's holding room, it wasn't exactly his first rodeo. Or second. Or fifth. Countless kidnappings aside, he had a strategy for these types of things. One that consisted of four steps: Step one, analyze the room. Step two, Find a way out. Step three, out-smart baddie and or baddies, bust out, blast them to hell (accompanied by a witty remark)- which leads to Step four, fly home in time for Rhodey's famous home cooked dinner. It wasn't the most time efficient plan, but it worked every time. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?

The room itself wasn't anything special. A wall shelved bed where he sat, with soft, plushy covers. He figured it wasn't the expensive kind, but it sure as hell felt like it. If he wasn't being held hostage, he would consider them comfy. Embedded in the center of the wall, there was a small clock on the wall-square- with symbols in a language he could only describe as- some type of off looking Japanese? And, from what he could hear, it didn't even tick properly when the time changed. So the damn thing was probably broken. The wall was otherwise bare. Pressed up against the bed frame stood a bedside dresser. Not much of a looker. Something that he could only describe as downright ugly. Brownish yellow with handles that didn't match in any way, shape or form. If Tony was a betting man, he would say that it was probably plucked up from the back of a junkyard.

On top of it lay a pile of clothes. They looked out of place sitting there like that, neatly folded and all too soft. It wasn't something that he'd expected in a kidnapping, but he appreciated the kind gesture.

On the far side of the room, not far from his seat, was what he could only assume to be a shiny chrome door. It didn't look to have a handle from his side, which meant he would have to wait until it opened. He couldn't bolt even if he fucking wanted to. Tony was the epitome of a sitting duck.

Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.

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Tony knew better than to make any noise. But god, did he want to. He wanted to scream and shout out; holler until his throat was raw and bang on the door till his fist lost feeling. It’d be one of the dumbest options his mind presented, but, hell, it was somewhat better than just sitting there and rotting until his kidnapper decided to come.

In the back of his mind, Tony almost -almost- deemed it a decent plan. To think about it, It was a given that the capture would come to see what all the fuss was about. Which means the door would open and he could probably make a run for it if there was a wide enough gap between the door and his capturer. It wouldn’t give him much wiggle room for mishaps, but it seemed solid enough.

OR, scenario No.2, It’d give his captures the notion that he was awake- better yet, alive (ie. Ready to be tortured). They’d run in, outnumbering him more than likely, and he’d have to fight for his life. And, although, Tony was a skilled fighter, it wouldn’t be wise for him to up and fight a pack of kidnappers- Especially not while he’s weak like this. Especially not without the suit.

Probably the world’s largest gamble. But, one he was willing to take.

Deciding that the best position would be off to the side of the door, Tony gathered up all the courage he could muster and readied himself. God, he hoped this would work.

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Hey, all! So I've got good news and not-so-good news!

My old computer died on me, so I hadn't been able to update my stories for a long while. Fortunately, I was lucky enough to be lent a temporary one!

First, the good news: Updates and new stories should be coming soon!

Now, the not-so-good news: All of the stories I had lined up on my old computer were in the notepad of it, therefore, died along with it. I'm not sure If I can get them back, so I'm gonna have to re-plan and re-write all of my stories, including this story from chapter 3 onward. This means that Chapter 3 won't be ready immediately, but I promise you, It's coming very, very soon!

Thank you for all the Kudos and comments- and most importantly, thank you for your patience! Seeing all of them makes the story even more enjoyable to write!

-Marshall (A.K.A Affray_with_the_Sheep)