Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This morning I woke up with a strange feeling in my chest. The sky was grayer than usual. I felt a sudden wave of nausea and a sharp headache. I sat up in bed, eyes closed, trying to breathe. Then I stood up and got ready for the day. On the way to the kitchen, I bumped into Vision.

"Good morning, Mr. Stark," he said, reading a magazine.

"Morning, Vision. What's so interesting there?" I went straight to the coffee machine, waiting for the brew while watching Vision slowly head to the couch, still focused on the magazine.

"Wanda told me to read the entire magazine. She wants us to do pilates together and said we should follow the same stretches and exercises here." He sat down, crossing his legs. "These exercises are way too advanced for beginners. This isn't right."

I grabbed my mug and took a sip. Then I searched through the cabinets and found a pack of toast.

"I doubt any basic pilates exercise could hurt either of you. I don’t think you two really qualify as conventional beginners," I said, opening the fridge and spotting a jar of cream cheese. Perfect.

"You're right. Why didn't I think of that?" Vision looked at me in surprise. "These exercises are great. Now, what did Wanda ask me to do after reading this again?" He stood up, one hand on his waist, the other holding the magazine, and walked away deep in thought.

I started eating the toast, scanning the living room. It was strange trying to get used to the quiet now that fewer people lived here. At this time, Steve should’ve already been awake. Thinking about him made me lose my appetite. I forced down the three toast slices I’d already spread with cream cheese and downed my coffee in one gulp.

I had no plans for today. On my way to the lab, my phone vibrated. An unknown number. The notification preview read: "Khos. Wruxuh. Kgbud. Frog. Lqyhuwhg sdluv. Fds." A cold, tingling sensation ran through my body. I sprinted to the lab and opened the message. Another followed: "64.4557° N, 18.8190° E."

"Friday, copy and translate the message," I said, snapping a screenshot just before the message vanished.

"The text message is encrypted with a Caesar Cipher. It says: 'Help. Torture. Hydra. Cold. Inverted pairs. Cap.' The numbers are coordinates to a forest in Switzerland."

I clenched my jaw, trying not to throw up. Cap.

"Invert the pairs and check again," I said, rubbing my face as I stood.

"Coordinates 46.5475° N, 8.1189° E. That’s in the Swiss Alps, Canton of Glarus. Difficult to access, Mr. Stark."

"Prepare the Mark 46," I said, running to the bathroom. I dropped to my knees and emptied my breakfast into the toilet.

"Sir, the suit isn’t fully repaired. It’s not safe..."

"Just do what I said. Take me to those coordinates," I said, staggering as I rinsed my mouth.

"Ready, Mr. Stark." I ignored her disapproving tone and got into the suit, flying out the window as fast as possible.

 

---

 

The place was completely isolated. I scanned for any signs of life, but nothing. To make things worse, my connection to Friday was garbage.

"Sir... Care... ful..." I smacked my helmet in frustration.

"Don’t you dare leave me now," I muttered. The snow fogging my vision didn’t help.

I crash-landed among some trees. The suit powered down.

"What the hell...?" Several men emerged from the trees. I stood and tried to fight, but each carried iron rods and beat me with them relentlessly.

"Friday! Respond!" One of them tore off a piece of the suit from the back of my left thigh. They tackled me to the ground and pinned me down. I felt them lifting my leg, holding it. While I struggled, something pricked my exposed thigh.

"No! Friday!"

Within seconds, my body went numb and my vision blurred. I heard their laughter as I lost consciousness.

 

---

 

I woke up with a bucket of cold water splashed on me.

"Wake up, Stark! This isn’t a damn vacation camp." I blinked, looking around. The room was large, dark, and freezing. My blurred vision didn’t help me identify the four men there.

"Come on, I know you’re not a morning person, but try." I looked down. My body was completely naked. The cold metal cuffs on my wrists became painfully obvious as I tried to move. The men all laughed.

"What?" My foggy mind was no help.

"Easy life’s over. You’re nothing here," said one, grabbing my hair violently, forcing a cry of pain from me. More laughter.

"The little slut likes it? You’re gonna have so much fun here."

"With that kind of welcome, it’s hard to believe," I spat.

Their laughter became a constant soundtrack in my life. I didn’t know it yet, but this was the beginning of the worst six months of my life. That day, I was beaten and abused. Every time I started to pass out, they shocked me back to awareness.

 

---

 

The next day, I woke up in the same room, with new injuries. Same men. Same confusion. My vision still blurry.

"What do you want? Who are you?" I asked for the twentieth time, but I wasn’t even sure what those words meant anymore.

The door opened for the first time. A blinding white light made me squint. When I looked up, a shorter man with graying hair stepped in, wearing a sinister smile. I studied his face, I felt like I should know him, but couldn’t remember.

"Stark, you don’t know me, but I know you. Who would've thought a genius like you would fall for such a simple trap?" He adjusted his tie and stepped closer. "Steve was really important to you, wasn’t he?" He grabbed my face roughly. "I almost pity you. Even though your father admired a dead super-soldier more than his own son, and Steve only ever saw you as an annoying, reckless colleague. Even though you’re older. Well, at least mentally."

"Who are you?" I whispered. He let go.

"I knew your father, Howard Stark, a long, long time ago. A visionary. Men like him are rare now. It’s a shame."

"Men like him?"

"Yes, men who put duty to country first. That’s why the country’s rotting now," he said, circling the room. "We need people like him, leading, investing in the nation, not distracted by useless emotions like you."

"Those ‘useless emotions’ are the only reason New York still exists."

He whispered something to a soldier, who nodded and left.

"You should’ve left the hero games to those born for it."

"Wanna play hero with me, then?"

"I already won. Or did you forget who’s chained up?" He chuckled. "If your father were alive, he’d be ashamed. He invested so much in you..."

"You don’t know anything about my family. You didn’t know my dad."

"I probably spent more quality time with him than you. We were friends."

"Maybe for you it was quality. Doesn’t mean it was mutual."

Silence fell for the first time in two days.

"Shame we can’t ask him now, isn’t it? The Winter Soldier did a fine job." My fists clenched. "But as your father’s old friend, I can fix this. Your brilliant but broken mind could serve our country well." He pressed my head back with one finger. "Big fan of your weapons. Shame you stopped making them."

"If you plan to hold me captive to make weapons, know it’s been tried. Didn’t end well. Watch the news."

"Don’t worry. Not everyone’s as stupid and useless as your previous captors. This time, you won’t escape. You’ll do everything I want."

My mouth went dry.

"And what exactly do you want?"

"I want your mind. We just need to fix that nasty personality of yours. Soon you’ll be obedient. My finest creation." He tapped my cheek, grinning, then turned. "Show him who’s in charge."

He left, shutting the door.

"Let’s go, princess. Party’s just starting," one of them said, running a hand slowly over my body. My brain went into panic as his hand slid lower.

"You’ll learn to use that mouth for other things."

 

---

 

The days dragged. The first month was the worst. Same routine: dragged out of my ‘room’, a metal bed on one side, a notebook and pencil on the other, where I was supposed to sketch weapons. I refused. In return, I got daily waterboarding sessions.

Every day they brought me to a ‘classroom’, each with a different torture. Today: electric chair. They’d show me sounds, images, and videos, shocking me when they wanted me to associate things with pain. Conditioning.

Always the same media in different orders.

A sunny park image? Heart racing. First shock.

Next: Dr. Gerhard Müller, smiling that sick smile. He used to work for SHIELD, but later joined Hydra. I learned the name of one soldier, Friedrich. The worst. No empathy. Sometimes he'd sneak into my cell at night and stroke me. He hasn’t gone further... yet. I once spat in his face. Four days without decent food. The meals? Trash and bugs.

A video of the Avengers in battle, I flinched, shock. A photo of Pepper smiling, shock. Hydra logo, relief. Then one of my suits, terror.

Hours later, I couldn’t breathe. Soaked in sweat. A soldier untied me, dragged me by the arm. Another helped me stand. My legs didn’t work.

 

---

 

Three months in. I couldn’t eat solid food. Whether from throat injuries or constant nausea, I don’t know. I sat up when I heard footsteps. Learned the hard way: lying down puts you at a disadvantage.

Gerhard entered with his hands behind his back, then pulled out a blue baby bottle.

"Heard you’re having trouble eating. Thought I’d bring a gift. Be a good boy and finish it. Maybe you’ll get another surprise later."

He handed it to me and left. I opened it. Vanilla-scented milk. Tried drinking from the rim, choked. Coughing fit. Looked at it, disgusted. Closed it. Tried the nipple. Slow flow. Alternated sips and breaks. Somehow, I finished it. Laid down. Waited.

 

---

 

Next morning, Gerhard returned with a black blanket covered in colorful stars. I sat up, raising an eyebrow.

"Where’s the bottle?" I handed it over. He shook it. "Very good. Here’s your gift." He handed me the blanket and left.

I gripped the fabric so hard my fingers turned white. Couldn’t resist. Buried my face in it. Since arriving, I hadn’t worn clothes again. The metal bed didn’t help with the cold. Many nights I slept on the floor.

I wrapped the blanket around me, curled up, trying to cover every inch.

 

---

 

A week later, Friedrich brought me to the bath room, like every other day. White tiles everywhere. I stood, covering my face. He turned on the hose, ice-cold water stinging.

First and only time I complained? He forced me into a scalding bath. Miraculously, no scars.

After drying me off, he grabbed a diaper. I stared at him, horrified.

"The boss wasn’t happy with your accident yesterday. Put it on without fuss. Your fault." Hard to agree, he denied me the bathroom, then dumped me in an electric session that lasted half a day. I let him diaper me. No choice.

 

---

 

In the third or fourth month, before a waterboarding session, I sat, grabbed the notebook, and started sketching a weapon plan. Nothing new, just testing.

My hands shook too much to hold the pen properly.

To my surprise, the mad scientist came instead of soldiers.

"What’s that?" I handed over the notebook. He flipped through it.

"A start. But you can do better. There’s a motion-triggered bomb of yours none of my men could replicate. Make that. If I like it, you’ll get two rewards."

As silly as it was, I felt motivated. Last reward? I cried during shock therapy. Gerhard was thrilled, gave me a brand new pillow.

When I finished the sketches, I set them aside. I knew the cameras watched me, one on the ceiling lamp, one by the doorframe.

Minutes later, the door opened. The old man smiled. My smile faded when Friedrich followed him in.

"May I?" I handed over the notebook. He hummed in approval. "Second reward comes if this works." I glared. He chuckled. "Be patient. If you’re not trying to trick me, I’ll bring your prize in a week." He tore out the pages, folded them, pocketed them. Then handed Friedrich a syringe.

"Give him his reward." He left. Friedrich smiled.

"Sit on the bed, princess." I obeyed slowly. He pulled a vial from his pocket. Carefully filled the syringe.

"A little gift from the doc. For your pain." The needle plunged into my arm. Cold fluid burned my veins.

As the door closed, I lay down and pulled the blanket over my face. Finally, after weeks of nightmares and constant pain, I slept through the night.

 

---

 

As promised, a week later one of the soldiers injected more of the drug. Since then, I’ve spent every day drawing and drafting inventions.

 

---

 

After Friedrich left my room, after another one of his disgusting sessions, I collapsed on the floor, screaming. Slammed my face against the bed, blood dripping from my forehead to the floor. Furious, I decided: I’d dedicate every second to escaping. Even if they killed me trying.

 

---

 

I was feeling inspired and wrote three and a half chapters of this new story in just four days. I hope you enjoy it.
Kudos and comments motivate me to keep posting regularly. I love constructive criticism <3.

Chapter Text

For weeks, I memorized every path I had access to. I prepared myself. I showed obedience, managing to eat enough to recover my body from the worst period. I waited for a moment of carelessness from them, which came during one of the shock sessions. I pretended to faint, and one of the soldiers carried me out. This was the perfect moment to carefully grab a paperclip from his pocket.

Lying face down, with my hands under the pillow, I slowly began to shape the paperclip, without looking, moving as little as possible to avoid raising suspicion. I took a deep breath, my hands sweating. I knew that the moment I stood up and started unlocking the door, my worst enemy would be time.

I stood up, stretching. I wrapped the blanket around my neck and tied it. I grabbed from under the pillow a piece of metal I had managed to pry from the side of the bed a few days ago. I pressed it against the door, and my mental stopwatch began. Luckily, unlocking it was easy.

I opened the door and ran down the corridor. Using the piece of metal I had painstakingly sharpened, I attacked the first guard I encountered. I stole and put on his uniform, getting as a bonus a set of keys, a revolver, a radio, and an access card.

“O27!” a voice shouted over the radio.

“Listening!” I mimicked the phrase I had heard countless times.

“Did Stark reach you?”

“He ran down the right corridor. He attacked me with a sharp object, be careful.” I turned left and headed for the elevator. When the door closed, I allowed myself to fall. I focused on my breathing, feeling fear take over. “N-no, not now.”

I tried to stand, everything around me spinning. I tried to think of something positive outside this place, but I couldn’t. Everything seemed to make me worse. Everything that had once been my reason to fight now felt like a nightmare or didn’t exist. I collapsed to the floor, crying.

The elevator door opened, revealing Gerhard and four men.

“You didn’t expect it to be this easy, did you?” He smiled, satisfied. “Well, it seems the shock sessions worked at least. Take him.”

The men grabbed me. I couldn’t even fight, lost in despair. I was dragged to a cell similar to my old one, but on a different floor, a different path.

As punishment, I lost all the rewards I had earned so far. I was beaten by the same soldiers as before. For a moment, I even thought I might die. I hoped for it.

I feel anger at myself for not being smarter, for crying while they hurt me. Do I deserve this? Why haven’t I managed to escape yet?

 

---

 

Since my last escape, I haven’t been able to walk. I haven’t slept a single night without waking up multiple times in crisis. My diaper Is a only changed twice a day, causing horrible sores. I haven’t been rewarded with weapon drafts anymore, only punished when I fail. I never saw my blanket again. The bottle is the only thing that remained, even if the drink tastes awful. I lost track of time.

Gerhard hasn’t appeared again… until today.

“Hello, Stark. It’s been a while since we last met.” My heart raced as he approached, running his hand through my hair. “I won’t go easy on you anymore, but I can give you an incentive for continuing to focus on the weapons.”

I started crying like a child out of relief at seeing him, even though I didn’t want to. As much as I hate him, something makes me crave his presence.

“It’s okay, it’s all okay. Things ended like this because of you. Your actions have consequences. However, here’s your incentive.” He took his hand out of his pocket and used my open mouth, forced by crying, to insert the silicone nipple. Instinctively, I started sucking, and, incredibly, felt my whole body relax. “If you behave for a few more weeks, I might consider giving your blanket back.”

He turned, making me cry even more as I watched him leave. That’s how I decided to dedicate myself to pleasing him.

 

---

 

I woke up startled by loud noises—shouts, bangs, even gunshots. I ran to hide in the corner of the bed, away from the door and out of sight. The floor sent a shiver up my spine. I didn’t even have a diaper to keep me warm; Friedrich hadn’t put a new one on after yesterday’s bath.

To my despair, the metal door began to receive multiple blows. One, two, three. Then, white light flooded the room as the door crashed to the floor.

I was desperate. I curled up as much as possible in my hiding spot, even though I knew it was useless. My knees and feet were exposed. I closed my eyes. Time seemed to slow. I thought about all the time I spent in captivity—all the weapons I helped produce, all the experiments I was subjected to, all the punishments, my blanket that I missed as if I had lost a loved one, and my last escape attempt, which became my greatest regret. So much suffering, so much fear. I crossed my arms over my face, a foolish reflex.

“Tony?” That voice. That damn voice. I couldn’t do anything but freeze.

I never had trouble with eye contact, but I was tired of everything that had happened this year. They destroyed all my pride, my defenses. They simply stripped away all my emotional—and physical—defenses.

“Tony…” I felt those hands, that had hugged me but also fought me, touch my knee. I couldn’t take it anymore, let out a sob, and everything collapsed. Everything I had held back my whole life burst out through my mouth in screams and wails. All those months of torture.

“Tony, come here.” He grabbed me by the arms, forcing me, for a brief moment, to see his characteristic face of pity that nauseated me and made me want to cry more. I rested my head on his shoulder calmly. Immediately, those feelings of safety near him, of wanting his approval, his love, which I had always hidden, surged after months of fearing that no one would come for me… that he would hate me.

“It’s me, Steve. It’s okay now. Come on, we don’t have much time.” He stood slowly, trying to take me with him, making me cry even more, afraid of falling. I couldn’t stop crying, no matter how hard I tried, only managing to choke on the words I tried to form in desperate attempts to tell him everything that happened. When he sat me back down on the floor, I gave up and let myself cry. Funny how long it took me to let someone see me without barriers, and now I can’t stop.

“What happened? Tony, what is it? Calm down, I can’t understand you. We need to go…” He said, looking anxiously outside, searching for someone.

I knew, regardless of how he had managed to get there, time was short. But the more I thought, the harder it became to stop. I could only say one coherent sentence amidst all the things I wanted him to know.

“S-Steve, d-don’t leave me here! S-Steve.” I placed my hands on his knees and lowered my head. I felt him sigh and place his hand on my back, starting a slow, soothing touch.

“I have Tony, but I don’t think he can walk. Can you give me some support?” I looked at him, everything blurred. Quickly, I wiped my eyes and saw him smile sadly. I took a deep breath, feeling the crying and despair fade. It was real—he was going to get me out of this filthy place. For a few seconds, we just looked at each other. He looked me over, swallowing hard. I noticed tears forming in his eyes.

“Forgive me, Tony, please. I’m an idiot. You didn’t deserve any of this. I couldn’t protect you. Not from me, not from the truth, not from Hydra, not from anything. I should have told you, and talked to you after everything. Not to mention the time it took me to find you. Forgive me.” At this point, he was crying with me, looking at me as if I were made of glass. I threw myself into him, hugging his neck, crying with a mix of relief, longing, and anguish. I heard him laugh, sad but affectionate, returning the embrace.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

We stayed like that for almost a minute until footsteps and gunfire made me jump.

“Now then, let’s go.” Steve stood, carrying me this time, shielding me with the shield. At this point, I had already forgotten I was naked. My cheeks warmed, and I buried my face in Steve’s shoulder.

“Did I take long, Captain?” I recognized Natasha’s voice. My chest tightened.

“No, you arrived just in time. How’s the path?” I felt him move quickly, one arm supporting me seated and the other, with the shield, around my back.

“I cleared it, but I can’t guarantee it’s still safe.” I turned my head slightly to see the place for the first and last time. I had never been awake to see outside the cell. We passed a long corridor with stairs at the end and a door identical to the cell door on the floor.

I focused on the warmth of his body carrying me. I managed to relax with the idea of leaving there, with my former friends, even with anxiety lurking. I inhaled, smelling Steve’s strong, woody scent. Only now did I realize how exhausted I was. For the first time, I decided to let someone take the lead and trust them. I fell asleep without noticing it.

 

---

 

"Is he asleep?" Natasha said, breathing heavily. We ended up running into some Hydra people along the way; I couldn’t do much more than defend myself and protect Tony. Natasha, on the other hand, had to fight three.

"I think so, he’s limp. He cried a lot when he saw me." Finally, we reached a window someone had escaped through, since it was broken.

"He cried?" She spoke softly, but I could still hear the surprise in her voice.

"Yes, a lot. Pretty much from the moment I walked in until you arrived." She didn’t need to know all the details.

"To be honest, I’m surprised he’s alive and remembering you. I expected the worst from Hydra."

"Me too." I adjusted Tony with a light push upward. He immediately groaned without waking.

The Quinjet was parked in the middle of the green landscape. As we approached, it powered up and the door opened. Sam was piloting, while Bucky was cleaning himself off, his body marked with blood. Both of them looked at us with concern.

"How is he?" Sam asked, taking off.

"As well as can be expected. He seems really sensitive, but he recognized me. He fell asleep on the way." I laid him carefully on one of the seats reclined at 140°.

"Here." Natasha handed me a change of clothes.

"Thanks." She nodded and went to sit next to Sam.

Careful not to wake him, I started dressing him. During the time Tony had been missing, I realized how much I regretted our fight. Many times I felt guilty about the Avengers’ end, even though it wasn’t really my fault. I don’t regret the side I chose. But it’s hard not to think that, if we had all been together, maybe Hydra wouldn’t have taken Tony alone. I looked at the purple and black bruises spread across his body. The countless scars. The dried blood in several places. His ribs wrapped in skin. The uneven beard. The hair hanging below his ears.

"Wouldn’t it be better to put him on a stretcher?" I looked to the side and saw Bucky standing with his arms crossed.

"I think the seat’s more comfortable, I can carry him when we get there." I sat on a bench across from Tony. Bucky kept staring at me seriously.

"What is it?"

"Are you sure he won’t freak out when he sees me?"

"Ah. I don’t know, but we’ll deal with it. I don’t think he’ll want to be near you at first, probably. Either way, he’s not in the best place right now. Only when he wakes up will we know how it’s going to be."

The rest of the trip was silent. Everyone was tired and too caught up in their own thoughts to say anything. Tony slept the entire way, taking the chance to recover a little bit of rest.

---

 

The metal door opened after the facial biometrics confirmed Steve’s identity. Everyone entered the hideout and headed to their respective rooms, exhausted from the day. Steve and Bruce went to another area, leaving Tony draped over Steve’s shoulders.

The three entered the lab.

“Place him on this table,” Bruce said. “I want to get a general look at his body, but I won’t run any tests for now. I want to wait until he’s awake to ask some questions, and I don’t think it’s right to do anything invasive while he’s asleep, especially given everything he’s been through.”

Steve carefully laid Tony’s body on the table. Bruce only approached after washing his hands thoroughly, then putting on a pair of silicone gloves over them.

“Wow, look at all these injuries, from different times. It’s obvious he hasn’t had a single day of peace all this time.” Bruce slowly palpated Tony’s body, checking for broken bones or internal injuries. His face showed disgust and disapproval when touching certain points.

“Is it really that bad?” Steve asked.

“Well, I actually expected worse. It’s just that, unfortunately, he’s going to have a difficult and painful recovery.”

“I’m sure it’s not worse than what he’s already been through.”

“No, definitely not.”

They shared a few seconds of silent pity and guilt.

“I’ll clean the superficial wounds, nothing more, maybe apply a few bandages at most. If you want, you can go do something else while I work—I’ll try not to wake him.”

“I’ll just change and talk to Bucky, then I’ll be back.”

“Alright,” Bruce said softly, preparing sterilization materials.

 

---

 

I entered my room and saw Bucky standing with his back to me, staring at our bookshelf. I walked slowly, trying not to draw attention, and hugged him from behind. He jumped slightly and glanced at me with a startled side-eye. I smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Relax, soldier. It’s just me.” He exhaled, relaxing against my arms.

“How’s he doing?”

“Could be worse. That’s what Bruce said.”

“I can imagine, especially considering Hydra.” He turned. I didn’t stop holding him at any moment. “I can’t stop wondering what Hydra wanted from Tony. Did they get what they wanted?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they just wanted information or weapon projects, things like that.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his face on my neck, inhaling deeply. I hugged him tighter and rested my face sideways on his head for a few seconds.

“I’ll take a quick shower and change.” I separated from him, and he just nodded, keeping his serious expression.

 

---

 

I came out of the bathroom with a towel around my neck and another around my waist. I stopped when I saw Bucky sitting in one of our chairs, legs crossed, chin in hand, staring at me seriously.

“You don’t get tired of thinking?” I asked, turning my back and opening our shared wardrobe.

“Would being in the same room as Tony make things worse for him?” I glanced over my shoulder at him for a few seconds, just sighed, and continued searching for clothes. I picked a white shirt, underwear, and gray sweatpants. I did everything slowly. I turned and approached him.

“He doesn’t need to see you right away; you won’t be in the same room.”

“But he’ll know I’m here.”

I sat in the chair across from him, separated only by the glass table. I thought of a gesture, leaned over the table, and extended my hand. He understood and reached his hand toward me. I held it with both of mine, giving a gentle massage. Bucky lowered his face toward our hands and looked at me. I could see the guilt in his eyes, knew exactly what he was thinking.

“No, Bucky. I’ll make sure everything is okay as quickly as possible for all of us, especially Tony. If you feel uncomfortable, you don’t need to speak to him. I don’t think he’ll leave the room alone anytime soon—you’d have to go wherever he is for him to see you.”

“You make it sound so simple. That’s not the problem. We don’t know what Tony went through, what his mind is like. You said he was sensitive, that he cried. Considering Hydra, we have to expect the worst, always.” He looked deep into my eyes with the same worried expression he always has. “Steve, I don’t want anyone else to go through what I went through. I thought Hydra was finished, but no, we let….” He trailed off, looking at me for understanding.

“We didn’t let anything. We’re still human; we can’t get everything right. We thought we’d taken care of all of Hydra, but you know how these things work. People with power, disguises.” I looked at him seriously, trying to convey confidence. “But you also know how much we tried.”

Bucky lowered his head and rested his forehead on our hands.

“I hate Hydra,” he whispered.

“Me too, but the important thing now is that we’re all safe and Tony is alive. Our only concern should be helping him recover. If there are still Hydra operatives out there, we’ll find out sooner or later. We’ll finish them, just like we’ve done before.”

I leaned and kissed the top of his head, carefully pulling my hands back. He looked at me seriously.

“I’ll check if Bruce needs help and see how Tony’s doing. Want to come?”

“No,” he said without hesitation.

“Alright.”

I left the room reflecting on everything he had said. Seeing him for the first time in years after thinking he was dead. Thinking of Tony’s face, his desperation when I entered. Thinking of Red Skull. Of Howard. Of everyone who caused suffering to so many innocents, and all those who suffered. War is the thing I despise most in my life.

I opened the lab door and saw Bruce mopping the floor. I raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, Steve.” He stretched uncomfortably, maneuvering the mop to dunk the cloth in a bucket. Tony was still asleep, his face cleaner now, a white sheet covering his body.

“So?” I asked.

“I did as much as I could for now. Once he wakes up, I have a lot of work ahead.” He folded his arms over the mop handle, resting his face. “But now we need to get adult-sized diapers.”

“Diapers? Why?”

“Someone had an accident.” He alternated glances between me and the wet floor. I made a sound of understanding.

“Maybe it’s just because he’s asleep?”

“I don’t think so, especially with all his injuries.” He put the mop away and began organizing the table filled with scattered equipment. “I gave him a few injections. I think he’ll sleep through the night until tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’ll see if Natasha can get the diapers.”

“Okay, but first, can you stay with him a bit? I’ll see if I can find some borrowed clothes for him; I think we’re the same size.”

“Okay.”

When I saw the bedroom door close, I approached the table. I observed the contrast between the injuries on his face and his serene expression while asleep. I gently placed my hand on his hair, adjusting a few strands.

“Forgive me, Tony.”

I felt my heart tighten with the guilt from months ago when we argued, mixed with guilt for not being there to prevent the kidnapping—or at least finding him sooner.

“I hope you can forgive me.”

---

 

I hope you enjoyed it. Tony is so traumatized :(
Thankfully, he has friends to take care of him. Comments and kudos motivate me to keep writing, because they let me know you enjoyed it. See you in the next chapter! <3

Chapter Text

I woke up in a soft, warm place. I felt some blanket around me. This was nothing like the place I had woken up in for the past months.

I opened my eyes and sat up abruptly. Looking around, I saw a completely gray, dim room. Behind me stood a rusty metal headboard.

My heart ached from beating so fast. My breathing quickened, and I had to fight to control my thoughts.

The only thing I remember is Steve rescuing me, but this place feels strange and unfamiliar, nothing like what I expected.

The metal door brought a bitter taste to my mouth. Quick, fragmented memories of the time I had been imprisoned rushed back. The sound of chains and shackles clashing against more metal. Cold aluminum tables holding me down for hours, sometimes even days. Trays filled with gleaming instruments making sharp noises as people picked them up and set them down. The metallic scent of my own blood, the taste of it becoming routine, many times the only taste in my mouth for days.

A room stripped of color could only mean I had gone from one prison to another. If I had ever really gotten out.

I pulled the covers back and saw a black sweatsuit. Moving slowly, I felt the diaper heavy against me. My thoughts raced from one side to the other. My head started to throb, my eyes burned. Free or not, I would never know peace again. They had kept their promise; Friedrich’s mocking voice echoed endlessly in my mind: “Even if you manage to escape, you’ll still carry us with you. I’ll make sure you never forget me, since you plan on leaving.”

My body grew cold on the outside but unbearably hot within. Frustration and anger consumed me. Why can’t I be happy? What makes me such an easy target? Where do I fail? Is this my karma for years of building weapons?

I decided to let the tears flow freely, at least that was something I could do. Curling up on my side, every part of me aching, I let myself feel everything.

I buried my face in the mattress and screamed. I screamed and screamed until my throat burned. Tears spilled like a faucet left half open. I pulled at my own hair, trying to disguise the tight pain in my chest. Then I fell back onto the bed, letting it all out, everything. I couldn’t sort in my mind, through cries and laments.

I propped myself up on my elbows when the door creaked open, trying to stifle my sobs, but when I recognized, through my tears, the man walking toward me, I gave up trying.

“Tony? What happened?” Steve sat down across from me, his brows furrowed with concern.

I knew I’d regret it later, but right then I could only focus on the uncontrollable urge to keep crying, which only grew stronger, and on the overwhelming need for comfort and affection, after months of nothing but panic at the sight of anyone. Steve’s embrace and warmth were still fresh in my memory.

I sat up, stretched out my arms, and grabbed his blue shirt, one hand at the collar, the other gripping the sleeve at his wrist. I flinched when his hand caught mine at the collar quickly; his face tense and confused. The fear of being pushed away only fueled my despair.

But then Steve softened his expression and carefully pulled me by the waist. Instinctively, I threw myself against his chest, clinging tightly around his torso. I felt his firm hand on the back of my neck, pressing lightly, almost like a massage. His free hand moved slowly up and down my back, gentler than the last time.

All the feelings I had repressed for years, the longing for approval and admiration, overwhelmed me. My whole life I’d been a disappointment to everyone. Every authority figure I’d ever been around, Steve included, saw me as immature and foolish, even when I tried to do the right thing. I never understood where I went wrong. I’d seen people far more irritating, with sins heavier than mine, get applauded for their deeds.

Steve set the shield on the bed, I hadn’t even noticed he’d been carrying it. He started swaying his body slowly, calming me. Gradually, the need to cry eased. The screams turned into sobs, then into muffled whimpers. Breathing deeply, I caught his scent again, its magical effect soothing me. Sleep tugged at me, but I was tired of sleeping.

As my mind returned to normal, shame crept in. Against my will, I forced myself to pull away from Steve. He gave me a gentle smile and an affectionate look, not the pitiful expression I had expected. My throat tightened, but I felt I had already reached my limit of tears and humiliation for now.

I took a deep breath, controlling the leftover sobs. I was grateful that Steve didn’t reach out to touch me while I did, it surely would’ve made me cry again. I wiped my face with the back of my hands, my skin burning hot from the effort.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, both processing what had just happened. When I glanced at the shield, something clicked in my head.

“How did you get the shield back?” He looked surprised, but soon wore the guilty puppy-dog look of someone caught red-handed.

“Pepper gave it back to me. She said we needed every advantage we could get when it comes to Hydra.”

I studied his guilty face, connecting the dots.

“YOU! WHY ARE YOU SO CLOSE TO PEPPER?” I shouted, startling him, locking my eyes onto his, ready to punch him if needed. He pulled back slightly, his face twisting in distaste.

“We’re not close. We just talked on the phone I gave you. Besides the time she called me to hand me the shield, that was her idea, not mine.”

“She? Why? What did you two talk about?” I lowered my voice, analyzing his face.

"A lot happened while you were away. I think I’m the one who should update you on everything." He sighed, pausing and looking calmly at the wall before looking back at me. "Rhodey found the phone, and I don’t think he was too happy that you didn’t tell anyone. He talked to Pepper about it, but I don’t know much, just that she convinced him to give her the phone. I don’t know how."

"She has that knack. How’s she doing?" My heart tightened as I remembered her. During these months, not knowing how she was, not being able to talk to her, were some of the hardest and most painful things.

"Missing you." I swallowed back the tears that kept wanting to appear. Pepper had always been a weak spot for me. "I told her we managed to rescue you, but I asked her not to tell anyone."

"Rhodey?"

"Doesn’t know. He’s still mad at us. We decided not to tell anyone. Pepper called me asking for help to find you. We were already looking for you, but combining what she knew and what we knew made it much easier. That’s why we stayed in touch. In the end, we’re still fugitives, so it’s all secret. I think soon they’ll find out what happened at the Hydra hideout, and if they find any evidence that you were there, there are two possibilities. They might look for you more because they believe you’re alive, or..."

"Think I’m dead and stop. And who’s with you? Who is 'we'?"

"Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Bruce. Thor helped at the beginning, for about two months, but he had to leave."

"A lot happened indeed. Bruce has a hobby of isolating himself and showed up. Who found whom?"

"Natasha found him. He was taking some time off in a cabin in the middle of a forest in Canada. He agreed to come with her and was very worried about you."

"And the rest? Barton, Maximoff, that insect hero, your friend… what’s his name again?" I gestured with my hand looking for an answer.

"Ant-Man, Scott Lang." He rolled his eyes, smiling. I smiled too. The mood was finally getting lighter. "Barton and he made a deal with the government, surrendered, and are serving house arrest because of family. Wanda and Vision disappeared together."

"Vision is a traitor." Steve laughed, which warmed my heart. It had always been hard to make him laugh. Normally, I’d get scolded or face a disapproving look.

"The two of them helped a lot with clues, not too long ago."

"I see." I imagined Wanda losing everything and gaining some kind of super-advanced artificial body with an Infinity Stone on her forehead as family. "And where exactly are we? Batman’s cave?"

"It’s a hideout, abandoned long ago, by S.H.I.E.L.D. Nick found us in Wakanda and offered this place for when we needed to disappear completely."

"Living together, nostalgic."

"What do you think?" My heart jumped at the idea.

"I can’t think about the future at all. Until yesterday, I had already accepted dying in that place."

"Get used to thinking about it differently now." He smiled, and I returned it. We spent a few seconds just enjoying each other’s presence, until Steve stood up holding the shield. He looked at it calmly and affectionately. "It’s yours. Your father made it. I hope you’re not upset. Pepper insisted a lot; she didn’t want to take it back without your permission." He extended the shield toward my lap, but I pushed it back. He looked confused.

"He made it for you, it doesn’t matter what it is to me. This shield represents who you are. Besides, I have nothing to do with it; it would just take up space."

Steve looked at me gratefully and caressed the shield.

"If it’s just to keep an eye, I’ll take it back." He placed the shield on his arm and sighed in relief, looking at me confidently.

"Thank you, Tony."

I looked at his face. His posture, standing tall, made me feel small. His straightened body didn’t help. I nodded slowly, mesmerized by him. I began to remember his hug, his affection, his lap, his comforting words—everything I never imagined receiving, especially from him.

"Do you want to tell me now why you started crying?" He had to ruin the cute moment.

"Nothing much. I just woke up dazed and alone in this dark room after months of confinement." I felt guilty complaining about the place. There was no comparison to the places I had been in the Hydra hideout, but after such a vulnerable moment, my repressed pride needed a little stage.

"This is the only free room, but it really isn’t the prettiest. It wasn’t anyone’s room, so it’s how we found it; we only changed the mattress. The blankets and pillows are new, but the rest…" He paused, looking around. "You can sleep with someone if you feel more comfortable. Bucky and I share a room, for example. Natasha and Bruce too." I felt a pang of jealousy. Surely my two preferred roommates were taken.

"I don’t think Wilson and I would make a good pair."

"It doesn’t have to be him. If you want, we could switch. If you prefer, I can sleep with you, and Bucky can stay with Sam or here." I looked surprised, staring at him with admiration. As polite and fair as Steve always was, I never imagined a scenario where he would prioritize me over Bucky. It didn’t feel right. They are best friends, and I… I am me. There’s no comparison to what we both represent for Steve.

"I don’t want to disturb the lovebirds; I’m old enough to sleep alone." I spoke with difficulty. I had spoken more today than in four months; my throat was starting to protest.

"There’s an empty single bed in Sam’s room. I can move it to my room, so you sleep there. It’s safer than staying here alone. Can I do that?" The question froze me. I was ready to refuse, but the request in the form of a plea confused my exhausted mind.

"Okay." I was surprised by my answer, but now there was no turning back.

"Great." He smiled warmly, making me melt. "The others and I were about to watch a movie; do you want to join? They were choosing before I came."

I thought about how I would have to be carried to the living room by Steve, bringing a bittersweet feeling. On one hand, I feared this affectionate moment with Steve would end, and everything would go back to normal; on the other, I didn’t want the embarrassment of being seen so vulnerable after everything that happened post-Sokovia Accords.

"I think I’ll go back to sleep; I’m still tired." I adjusted myself to lie down.

"Do you want to sleep in my room? There are some books and a TV if you want some alone time instead of sleeping." I raised my eyebrows. His calm gaze seemed to understand me.

"No need…"

"The rooms are along this corridor, with this one. Across is a meeting room and the lab. The room is hidden behind the wall at the end of the corridor. No one will see you; my room is next to this one." His excessive care was starting to make me cautious. I couldn’t think of a response. Steve took a deep breath. "Come on, it will be better this way. It’s more comfortable." Without being able to answer, he crouched and picked me up easily. I felt my ears and cheeks heat up. It was different being carried now in the middle of a crisis.

He walked through the room, which didn’t seem so scary anymore with the context. When we exited the door, I observed the light gray corridor, trying to absorb as many details as possible. It was exactly as Steve described. On one side, the corridor led to an unseen place since the path curved; on the other side, farther away, the only visible part of the room was a sofa against the wall of the corridor, but there was no one there. The only sound was the TV, but from that distance, it was impossible to understand what was playing. Steve walked slowly to the next room, giving me time to take in the space.

We entered Steve and Bucky's room. The door was the same as the other room, but everything else was completely different. The walls were painted white and light blue. On the right side, across from the door, there was a bookshelf pressed against the wall, full of books. Next to it, two armchairs and a glass table that looked expensive. More toward the center of the room, a brown double bed with an antique look made me raise an eyebrow. On each side, a matching brown nightstand. On our side, a low dresser held a television. Finally, a large wardrobe divided the wall with a door.

“What’s behind that?” I pointed to the door as Steve placed me on the bed.

“A bathroom.” He looked uncomfortable, alternating between meeting my gaze and looking away.

“What’s wrong? Want to tell me something?”

“If I don’t tell you, you’ll figure it out soon enough.” He seemed to be thinking about the best way to tell me, whatever it was.

“Does it have to do with the bed being a double?” He looked surprised, as if caught off guard. “Your feelings for Bucky… more than friendship?” He lowered his gaze, clearly shy. His face flushed. I sighed. “We’re in the 21st century, that’s normal. I like guys too.”

“Really?” He lifted his head.

“Yes. You two were already a couple before the ice?” He stared at me for a few seconds.

“Bucky and I never thought of it that way. I always saw him as my soulmate, but impossible romantically.” He crossed his arms and looked at the bed. “In the time I was born, it wasn’t an option. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love him the same way I do now, but feelings have always been complicated for me. I was taught how an honorable man should behave and never questioned it. Peggy was there too, I was in love with her back then. Hearing people question our friendship now in a different tone, and realizing it’s normal for men to love each other, made me see it differently. Bucky too, he even made the first move. Accepting it was hard, but now we’re living our best phase.”

“Different tone? What tone? Were people prejudiced toward you?”

“Yes. Especially at school, they gave us nicknames, we became a joke. Over time it lessened, but since I was 'fragile' and 'delicate', I was always the biggest target.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking at his feet now. “I didn’t think it was wrong, since I thought I only saw him as a friend. When I woke from the ice, I realized how much I missed him, more than Peggy even. Everyone, even you, always joked about it differently.”

“You used to get upset at first, I stopped when you stopped talking about him, noticed you were acting strange.”

“That’s because I thought you had a different opinion. I talked to Natasha when we were on a mission alone. She’s the one who actually spoke up, as always, she noticed. She told me the world had changed and it’s no longer a crime to be homosexual, nothing like that, and that many people now hate such prejudices. I reflected on it, and when I reunited with Bucky, I saw it was true. There’s nothing wrong.” He looked ahead, behind me. He seemed anxious.

“Cute. At my eighteenth birthday party I had a threesome with twenty guys and thirty women, that’s how I found out.” Steve’s eyes widened, looking at me disgusted.

“What? Just kidding. But I never had many issues with it. I never told my parents, but I always had an open mind, so I kind of always knew. I’m glad I wasn’t born in your boring era.”

“I’m glad things became easier in your era, especially now that I have Bucky back.” He smiled, visibly lighter. “But putting that aside, do you want to take a bath?”

“Out of nowhere? Do I stink that bad?” I raised my arm and sniffed my armpit. I meant to be funny, but I couldn’t hide my look of disgust.

“You do, but I also don’t think it’s good to stay in the same diaper for too long.” I made a face of disgust, making Steve laugh. I pushed away the thought of asking how they realized I needed diapers. The answer could make me want to jump off a building.

“I’ll take it, I’ve missed feeling water on my body without hurting myself. I’m dying for some soap too. I’ve missed it for so long.”

“Okay, nice-smelling soap noted. I’ll fill the tub.” My stomach twisted at the thought. I hugged myself.

“Can’t it be in the shower?” I whispered, as if someone outside might hear.

“Sure, but it’s in the tub. The bathroom’s small. Is that okay?”

“It’s not like I can stand, so yes.” Steve went into the bathroom and returned in just a few seconds.

“Can I help you get undressed?” As humiliating as it was, I nodded.

My body was screaming for help after so much emotion. Now that I could relax, my injuries had space to show the damage that had been done.

Steve carefully removed my shirt, one arm at a time. He laid me down gently. Seeing him in that position heightened my sense of powerlessness, but strangely in a good way. Letting Steve take control was therapeutic.

Slowly, and watching me at every small movement, he pulled my pants aside. He looked at me, holding one of the diaper tabs, waiting for permission. I nodded timidly. He opened it, removed it quickly, folded it, and set it aside.

He placed his hands under my armpits and lifted me. Automatically, I bent my legs to his side with effort. I rested my head on his shoulder to avoid looking at his face.

He carried me to the bathroom. It was small and tight, with the sink at the entrance and a mirrored cabinet on the wall. Next to it, a toilet, and at the end, the bathtub with the shower running and the drain open. Steve placed me seated inside, the water perfectly warm, making me sigh. On the edge, there was a sponge, a bar of soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

“Can I help?”

“No, I want to do this myself. I need a moment.” This time I didn’t fall for his trick.

“If you need anything, just call me. I’ll come back in about twenty minutes. Bruce wanted to examine you.”

“I think I’ll be done before that.”

“All right, I’ll be back soon then.” I muttered in agreement.

When he left, I leaned against the wall, letting the water run down my body, dirty.
I started thinking about how different Steve seemed. How different must the rest of the world be?

I shook my head. These thoughts about the time I lost made me anxious, and I wasn’t ready to feel bad again.

I grabbed the shampoo, opened it, and inhaled its sweet scent. I sighed with happiness; it had been so long since I smelled any kind of perfume. Sometimes, when I was washed with soap in captivity, it smelled like grease.

I poured water over my head and started applying the shampoo. My wounds stung and my arms ached, but I ignored it; the feeling of being clean again, even a little, sent shivers through me. It’s amazing how something so simple can be so missed, things I never appreciated in my everyday life.

I rinsed my hair and applied conditioner. I picked up the soap and rubbed a bit on the loofah; its fragrance was simply perfect. I started carefully lathering my body, paying attention to every wound I couldn’t avoid. I began remembering how each scar formed, the scratches on my arms and torso reminding me of every day I spent in that place. Suddenly, I felt filthy again and began scrubbing the loofah hard until my skin burned, yet I still felt unclean. I remembered Friedrich touching me.
I felt like vomiting.

I closed the drain, still trembling. I was exhausted. I took a deep breath, my breathing shallow. I let the water cover my legs. I closed my eyes and poured water over my body. Then I turned off the tap.

I looked down and saw my reflection in the murky water. The scars on my face looked terrible: scratches, bruises, and my eyes red and swollen from crying. My hair was messy and long, my beard awful, untouched by a proper trimmer for months. Sometimes, a guard or someone else would shave me superficially with a razor. They said it was better to see my body and the wounds.

With all these memories surfacing, I struck the water in anger.

For a moment, I found myself wondering if Friedrich and Gerhard had managed to escape or if they were killed. I wasn’t sure if Steve and the others would remember if I gave them a description.

The worst part is the disgust I feel for myself. There’s nothing in the world that would make me confess what I feel for Gerhard. On one hand, I hope with all my might that he’s in hell. But there’s a small, scared voice inside me, screaming that it isn’t true. But it is; I’m not crazy about him, it’s just a strange feeling of affection. For months, he was the only source of hope and love, as small as it was. I don’t miss him, but it hurts.

This confusion makes me want to vomit even more. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

 

---

 

I’m not sure if you noticed, well, I’m literal human slowness. I was putting the chapter notes literally at the end… of the story.
I thought it was a bug, but no, I was wrong. I fixed it now ;).

Chapter Text

I heard soft knocks on the door.

"Tony! Are you done? Can I come in?", I looked at my lap, dirty with vomit, ruining the shower I had just taken.

The disgust made my stomach churn even more. I opened the drain, watching the mess go away. The water from the shower wasn’t running as fast as I wanted.

I felt my heart race as time passed, each second feeling like a minute, between the question and the silence. I couldn’t think straight under the pressure.

On one hand, I was tired of being alone with my thoughts. It’s always like this. Silence equals crisis. On the other hand, I didn’t want Steve to see me like this, disgusting. I thought about waiting for the water to wash all the filth away. Luckily, the bathtub wasn’t full.

"Tony?" Another knock. There was no more time. Damn.

"Yeah, come in," I hoped he wouldn’t notice what had just happened.

The bathroom door opened slowly. Steve peeked in before stepping inside, a towel over his shoulder and another in his hand.

"Are you okay? I heard you vomiting." The time apart had made me forget how annoying living with a super soldier could be.

I stared at him, thinking of a response. After everything, I felt a bit bitter, but I didn’t have the courage to lash out at him—it was him who saved me, after all.

"I guess my last meal from that awful place didn’t agree with me," I inhaled sharply and lowered my head, exhaling. He hummed in response.

Steve came closer and looked at my lap. I felt my face heat up and didn’t look at him anymore. He stood by my side for a few seconds. The silence was awkward.

When all the filth was gone, he grabbed the soap and rubbed it between his hands, creating foam.

"I’ll be quick, it’s cold." Like magic, I felt my body shiver and tremble. As the adrenaline faded, I felt the warmth fade with it.

I stood there, watching his hands gently rub my thighs. One hand moved up and cleaned my stomach, tickling me. I squirmed, making him speed up in response.

When his hand started moving lower during the cleaning, I grabbed his wrist, afraid he’d touch me further down. I still didn’t have the courage to look at him. Regardless of his reaction, he stopped and stood up. He stretched an arm behind my body, and I heard a snap. His hand brought the shower with it. I could focus on the warm water running, now with a calm mind. My muscles relaxed gradually. I closed my eyes and felt the water running over my shoulders, carrying the tension away with it.

Sleep began to creep in with all the care. I mustered the courage and looked at his face. Steve looked at me and waited for me to say something. I nodded while yawning. He understood, placed the shower back, and handed me a towel. I dried myself, feeling some parts of my body throb with pain after the scrubbing. I wrapped the towel around my waist as best I could, still sitting. The tile floor was starting to get cold.

Steve stretched his arms toward me very slowly, staring at me the entire time. His hand hovered around my head. I raised an eyebrow, not understanding why he was being so cautious, as if I were a skittish kitten. He had just finished washing me.

"I know I’m a heartthrob, don’t feel intimidated," I tried to lighten the mood with a smile.

He thought for a moment, serious. His unmoving face looked like stone. I dropped the smile. The silence was awkward. I think he noticed and gave a faint, almost invisible, yellowish smile.

"I don’t want to cause you more pain. You’re all bruised."

I felt a tingling in my chest. One side of me, scared of being hurt, terrified of trusting someone—even for something small—began to fight with the side that just wanted to stay hugged all day, letting it take control. As much as I still loved Steve, I couldn’t forget all the times he treated me as unbreakable, untouchable. Hearing his words, after all the times he’d hurt me, tasted bittersweet.

"There aren’t many options. I need to leave," I tried to sound confident, but my voice failed and came out low. His protective presence was mesmerizing. His aura felt like a safe zone. I’d always seen this side of him with other people, but it was rare for him to be like this with me. I know part of the blame is mine for always provoking him. Still, Steve wasn’t very affectionate with me.

I felt his hands in my hair. He passed the second towel slowly, as if I were made of glass. I felt a knot in my throat. I closed my eyes, trying to enjoy the massage he started giving my head. It felt so good that for a moment I thought of nothing, focusing only on the sensation. It seemed like he knew exactly where I was tense.

Steve stopped and threw the towel over my shoulders, wrapping me up.

"I’m going to pick you up now, okay?" I just nodded, losing the last bit of courage to look at his face.

Steve wrapped his arms around my chest and the arms that were trapped by the towel. He hugged me and carefully positioned me against his body. I felt like a fully wrapped burrito. I didn’t resist and laid my head on his shoulder—it’s not like I hadn’t already humiliated myself enough in his presence. His firm hands caressed my back.

We entered his room, and he laid me on the double bed.

"Tony…" I waited for the rest of the sentence, but he stayed silent, looking at me calmly.

Damn.

I squirmed, my gaze trying to escape. His face told me he didn’t want to speak, but needed to.

"Yes?" I pressed my lips into a line.

"Do you think you need diapers?" I felt my face burn.

It was tempting to say no after being forced for so long, but I knew that wasn’t true. The idea of an accident was far worse.

"Unfortunately…" He smiled tenderly.

"It should be temporary; we’ll sort this out," I looked away from his face completely.

"I hope so. If this gets out in the media, I’ll blow up with some armor."

Steve walked silently to the dresser and grabbed a folded set of clothes with a diaper and a tube of ointment on top.

He came back and placed the pile beside me, pointing to the clothes and diaper. "May I?"

"I don’t think flexibility is my strong suit with so many injuries."

"I’ll be careful. Is there anything I should or shouldn’t do to make you comfortable?"

"Just don’t tell anyone the details. This is humiliating enough," Steve nodded.

Looking at Steve in this position made a strange tingling spread through the bottom of my stomach. My mind gradually seemed foggy; my agitated and scared thoughts became silly and funny. I couldn’t focus on anything except the sensation of floating.

Calmly, he unfolded the diaper and placed it under my legs. He caressed my knee before lifting my bent legs to my flank, one hand on my ankles.

I struggled until my arms were free from the towel. I covered my face, feeling the cold air hit my body. Steve lightly passed the towel over my groin, penis, and between my buttocks. I felt my face burn so much it made me dizzy.

Steve started making shushing sounds as he opened the ointment tube and put a bit on his index finger. I peeked through my fingers, and he looked at me tenderly. His finger began spreading the cream on my genitals, making me scrunch my face in embarrassment.

Strangely, it made me feel good, cared for like never before. Steve pulled the diaper up under me and lifted my legs. He pulled the front of the diaper up. He adjusted the tapes, smoothing them—neither too tight nor too loose.

Even the diaper seemed better and more comfortable than that place.

For a few seconds, Steve massaged my legs, avoiding the sore spots. I felt so relaxed in the moment that I almost fell asleep again. The shame and the fog made me lose the will to speak. My body began sinking as if the mattress were a cloud. Pride and ego seemed utterly useless at that moment.

"Don’t sleep. Remember Bruce wants to see you."
I grumbled, making him laugh.

"Take a photo of me and show him," I muttered.

"You’ll have time to sleep from now on, don’t worry."

I opened my eyes as I felt him lifting my feet slightly to pull on the pant legs. Loose gray pants. He pulled the other leg, went up, and adjusted them over the diaper. I sat with some difficulty as he grabbed the shirt. I could put it on myself, even with the pain. But I didn’t see a reason to interrupt after all that. I let him put the long-sleeved black shirt on me, also loose.

"Whose clothes are these?" I asked, my voice hoarse. I looked down. I felt small in the huge clothes.

"Mine," Steve went to the dresser, rummaged through a drawer, and returned with a comb.

Steve started combing my hair. My view was filled with his body, his belly covering my sight. His scent was drawing me in like an enchanted flute. My mind split into two teams. The crowd rooting to grab the body in front of me and dive into its scent was full.

I tried to turn anywhere else, but he held my face forward.

"Just a minute, I’m finishing."

Suddenly, the urge started to hurt. I tried listing all the reasons not to grab him, but my mind couldn’t reason. I forced myself, closed my eyes, and tried. No rational thought. I felt like I had a good reason not to do what I wanted, but nothing. It seemed like pure instinct.

The effort to think began to irritate me. My mind seemed to have a life of its own. Me and it, playing tug-of-war. I started feeling afraid of losing control. What would happen if my mind didn’t come back? And what happens if it gets completely clouded?

"Tony? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?" I looked at him, startled. I realized my cheeks were wet. "What happened? Did I hurt you?"

Since I’d already started, I let the dam break completely.

I hugged Steve’s waist tightly and rubbed my face against his stomach. Since when did his clothes feel so soft?

"Did I do something? Are you in pain?" I couldn’t think of any kind of answer. I felt that if I tried hard enough, I might be able to answer something, but speaking was uncomfortable. Steve and his habit of asking too much wasn’t helping.

"I’m sorry, you’re okay. I’m here with you." He picked me up. I buried my face in his woody-scented neck, feeling protected by his strong arms holding me.

Steve began walking around the room, swaying his body with each step. He was saying something in my ear, sweet words, but all I could hear were my own screams and whimpers.

I heard knocks at the door.

"Steve? Can I come in?" It was the Winter Soldier’s voice. The video of my parents being killed started looping in my head. I shook my head violently so Steve wouldn’t see.

"No need. I’ll open soon," I banged my forehead against his shoulder, angry at everyone who had ever crossed my path. Everyone who lied and betrayed me. Almost everyone. So many accumulated tears, so much loneliness and fear.

Steve continued trying to calm me down. I tried to stop, but it was hard. I felt something bad rising from my chest to my throat. I didn’t want to bother him. After all this, the last thing I wanted was for Steve to leave me again. The longing was toxic. I’m not sure I could endure being alone again.

Sleep began to take over with exhaustion. I had to pause to yawn.

"Do you want to sleep? Is that it? Want to take a nap?" His voice was so tender it reminded me of a lullaby.

I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t even remember why I started crying, but a nap seemed like a good idea.

I ran the backs of my hands over my eyes, drying my face. I managed to turn loud crying into low moans. I looked at Steve, and he smiled at me. I just grumbled, and he sat on the bed, laying me across his lap.

"I guess resting a bit won’t hurt. I’ll let Bruce know you’ll see him afterward." I didn’t care what he was saying. I was satisfied with the position. He half-sat, propped up on some pillows, with me lying on his chest. I sighed shakily and surrendered to exhaustion.

 

---

I woke up very sleepy. My instinct was to close my eyes and go back to sleep, but I noticed no one was in bed with me. My head felt heavy, my eyes insisting on staying closed.

I was on my stomach. I rolled and sat up. The room was silent. No sign of Steve. I yawned. My mind seemed back to normal. That brought relief. Having an empty mind twenty-four hours a day wasn’t a very appealing option.

I heard the toilet flush in the bathroom. I adjusted on the bed, waiting for Steve to leave.
When the door opened, my smile vanished. I felt my body freeze as the soldier stared at me.

"I’ll call Steve," he said, leaving the door open. I heard his heavy footsteps moving away.

I blinked a few times, looking outside. I don’t know what I expected being alone with the guy who turned my life into hell this past year, but I definitely thought it would be more exciting.

I turned to the side. I placed my hands on the mattress to support myself and hissed from the sharp pain on my right side. I sat up and lifted my shirt. On the spot that hurt was a dark purple, almost black, bruise. It wasn’t the only one, but it seemed connected to the source of the pain.

It was hard to remember how each injury happened or when. It was a huge collection of wounds. From red to green, some healed, others with pus, cuts from punches, superficial to deep. I ran my hand over them. They were too dry and clean. The deeper cuts were stitched. They weren’t as sensitive as they should be. Someone had taken care of me while I slept.

I think I got more injuries during captivity than in my entire career as an Avenger.

"Are you in pain?" Steve stood in the doorway.

"A little, just admiring my new autumn outfit. I think I’ll release a purple man edition. Do you think it will sell?" I lowered my shirt.

Steve came closer with a smile.

"I prefer Iron Man, original outfit underneath, single color. You don’t suit purple."

"There are other colors too, including red and yellow." I showed him my arms; he gave me a disapproving look and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Yet, from his smile and the sparkle in his eyes, I realized it wasn’t real anger, just a joke.

"Leave the colors to the armor, it’s better."

"If you insist." Steve rolled his eyes, widening the smile.

"Let’s go. We need to take care of this paint." He leaned forward, and I placed my hands on his chest, pushing him. The blond frowned.

I’m not sure I’m ready to see the rest of the team, especially in this pathetic state.

"I’m wrecked. Can’t Bruce come?" I tried my best puppy-dog look.

"The equipment is there, it’s better. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful." This time, I didn’t stop him from picking me up.

Steve wasn’t easy to convince otherwise, especially regarding health and safety. On a normal day, I’m not easy to convince either, but now I only want peace and calm. All my energy was drained this year. There was also that annoying, anxious voice inside me: 'Don’t disobey,' 'Danger,' 'Careful,' 'Be grateful for any kindness,' 'Be good,' 'Fear'…

"Wait," I shivered at the memories and squirmed as he approached the door. "Get the blanket." I stretched my arm and pointed to the throw on the bed.

"You’re cold?" Steve looked skeptical.

"Yeah, grab it." I stretched further toward the object.

It wasn’t exactly the cold that was the problem.

I got used to being wrapped in my blanket in the Hydra hideout. The instant calm was magical. Not even Captain America’s shield offered as much security as that little blanket I gained (and lost). I don’t think any blanket has the same effect, but it’s better than nothing.

You could see on his face that Steve didn’t believe my excuse, but he said nothing. He grabbed the blanket and placed it over my shoulders. My anxiety gradually decreased. I gripped a piece of the fabric between my fingers and squeezed. I managed to focus on the sensation instead of everything else.

I complained when Steve’s hand covered my forehead without warning. I pushed his hand away. My cheeks warmed, and I squinted instinctively. My heart raced. I waited to be struck back.

"You’re not hot," His voice was low, as if saying it to himself. He noticed my change but ignored it. His hand touched the back of my neck in a cupping shape.

I stared at his face. Even with a frown, he stayed silent and left the room. I saw no one in the hallway. A metallic sound from the door caught my attention. The soldier had his hand on the laboratory door handle. His shoulders were tense, one foot braced against the wall. He opened the door and waited for Steve to pass with me in his arms. His cologne was amber, strong and slightly sweet. He entered, closing the door.

The lab was cold. It felt like a hospital. It was much bigger than I imagined. There were tables everywhere, some chairs, various medical instruments and workshop tools. Some machines in the corners. The place was surrounded by computers and wires, but the thing the room had most was paper.

"Tony!" I looked over my shoulder in time to see Bruce hugging me from behind. I froze at the sudden touch. I forced myself to relax with the familiar hug. "Finally, you woke up. I missed you."

"I missed you too, Brucie." I pressed my face against his in a gesture of affection. It was the most I could manage while in Steve’s lap. A sour taste rose in my throat. Touch didn’t bring good memories.

Bruce released me and walked to a recliner covered with a sheet.

"Steve, put him here." Steve laid me down and handed me the blanket. I wasted no time and covered myself. "Can you take off your shirt? I want to examine you better; they said you had a rough vacation." I thought about replying that he had already seen, but focused on the man in front of me.

Without asking, Steve started removing my shirt, looking into my eyes. I don’t know why, but having Steve touch me wasn’t strange. We’ve never been physical, yet I felt more comfortable with him than with Bruce, who was the closest to me (after Rhodey) in the old team.

I stared at the soldier near the door, staring back at me. His face was intimidating. His gaze sent shivers down my spine. I grabbed the blanket back.

"Let’s see what we have here." Bruce approached with a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. He excused himself and began running his hands over certain areas, pressing others. Testing me. "Tell me where it hurts the most."

"Since when are you a doctor?" I hissed as he pressed my ribs. Since when were these stars here?

Steve ran his hand through my hair. His face was so scary I felt like laughing.

"I’m not, but I’m the closest you’ll see today. Thank Nick for giving all our equipment," Bruce noted on the paper as he spoke.

He set the clipboard aside and grabbed the stethoscope from the table behind him. He pulled the blanket out of the way and pressed the cold thing against my chest. "Take a deep breath." I tried, but a sharp pain in my side made me stop. I tried again and let out an 'ow.' "Very well, that’s good." More notes.

"I’m going to place some stickers on your chest to monitor your heart rate," Bruce turned his back. I saw him pull some wires and apply gel to the ends. He turned back and stuck three scattered across my chest. The steady beeping of the heart monitor. He opened a drawer and took out a pulse oximeter clip. The device ended up hanging on my pinky finger.

Bruce circled around and stopped at the end of the chair. He pressed his open hand against the sole of my foot.

"Push against my hand." I drew back my leg with a shout, more from surprise than pain. The beeping shortened its interval between each sound. "As I suspected."

His frantic movements began to confuse me. Bruce was focused on testing me.

I noticed movement at the door. The cyborg seemed restless.

While Bruce wrote notes, Steve gave a light tap on my calf over the fabric. He stepped back toward the door with his boyfriend. It was strange to see how the soldier’s face, even still serious, relaxed so much with Steve giving him attention. Jealousy began to prick me. I looked at Bruce, trying to avoid watching the two of them, but my eyes were stubborn.

I had spent so much time in therapy trying to recover from Afghanistan. It was hard, and I hadn’t gotten as many results as I expected (maybe having done only a month had something to do with it, but for the price I expected to heal trauma per session), only to have Hydra, in half a year, reprogram my mind into a pet that spends the whole day glued to the door waiting for its owner.

Half of what Bruce said I ignored, and the other half I listened to and deleted. I was focused on understanding the couple’s conversation. Steve was serious and tense. I felt the urge to go back to the room and do nothing, wrapping myself in anger.

I clenched my fingers hard into my palm. The tips of my fingers, defenseless, with extremely short nails, hurt. I bit my cheek as a substitute. I tried to control my breathing and keep my tears from falling at the same time.

I remembered the times I saw Gerhard laughing with Friedrich. My solution and my problem, hand in hand, in agreement. Survive Friedrich and be rewarded by Gerhard, that was all I had to do. Friedrich was cruel and Gerhard was good. I didn’t have to worry about anything else besides obeying and waiting. Never complain, just be thankful. However, the feeling of betrayal was grinding.

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That’s all, folks!

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