Transporting
They kept walking on an endless hallway, Tony quietly cursing in his mind, avoiding even glancing at the god walking beside him. Loki for his part, kept glaring daggers at him (which was totally unnecessary, he already got that the guy was upset, damn it) and Tony felt slightly (read very) uncomfortable under the scrutinizing.
He sighed grumpily. He would try escaping, but it had already earlier turned out to be a futile effort. After a few pathetic attempts by themselves, they had even cooperated (if it even can be called cooperating) with Loki, as they deemed it to be inevitable because of the collars. The trickster had first tackled the alien clad in white (because it looked a bit weaker than the "guard aliens", as Tony had dubbed them), after which they had ran like hell, bumping past the other guard on their way. They had managed a great distance of sixteen feet, before an alien had grabbed Tony by his clothes, causing him to nearly break his neck, choke Loki and succeed in making him tumble and hit the ground, ass first. It had been one hell of a sight. Which was probably why the said god was pissed as fuck.
But like he could help it! Even Loki couldn't fight these things off, how did he expect that he could? Tony was realistic enough to understand that there was a certain difference between the brawn of a human individual and an alien (any kind of alien, apparently) one. And he didn't even have his suit on!
He huffed in annoyance. Fucking aliens.
All at once, the five aliens stalled (they had gotten a couple more to walk them, as it seemed that they weren't in the mood for Tony and Loki's shit right now) and the two prisoners were seized by their shoulders and turned around. They were now facing the backs of two alien guards standing before one of the mechanic doors, other aliens staying behind them. The hands on their shoulders kept clutching even as the door opened with a hiss and they entered the room.
Tony was shoved forward, tugging Loki with him, and he vigorously whipped his head around to take in the room. It was small (though probably at least three or four times as big as their cell) and (again) completely white, plain and awful. On the each side of the room (cell, more likely), there was a (unnecessary to say, but a white) bench embedded to the wall, otherwise it being just all perfect lines and straight surfaces; walls, floor and ceiling.
He could feel his resolve grumbling. No more of this. He despised this place.
Tony's momentary inner breaking was interrupted (just as everything else seemed to be interrupted or disrupted around here) when another syringe was plunged into his neck. He grunted audibly in pain, and squeezed his eyes shut. The needle was quickly pulled out and the engineer hunched his shoulder up, trying to press it against the small puncture wound and adding his still shackled hands to the mess. He decided it looked pitiful, so after wiping at the tiny hole and checking his hands to make sure he wasn't bleeding to death, Tony dropped them back before him and watched as the aliens were finishing with Loki. Without a word (or acknowledging Tony swearing at them) the aliens left the room, the door locking shit. Tony glanced at Loki. He looked back.
"Antiserum," the (ex?) sorcerer said colorlessly. Tony snorted, shifting his eyes to the floor and trailing along it.
"Figures." He saw the bench to his right and decided it was a good enough place to reside for now. The billionaire took a few steps towards it before a neck-breaking pressure on his collar stopped him and the room swung around.
Jesus fucking Christ, motherfucker. Tony ogled at the ceiling maliciously. Luckily, he hadn't hit his head when he had fallen, but it still hurt like a bitch. He craned his neck to glare at the god, standing there on his feet, totally unimpressed. Tony narrowed his eyes.
"Fuck you," he told Loki, who for his part scoffed softly and smirked, not even glancing at him. Tony frowned at the guy and continued, "I'm sitting there, so move your ass, Rudolph." He defiantly stared up at the god after gesturing to the bench he'd been attempting to occupy. Loki raised a cocky eyebrow at him.
"We shall see about that, mortal," he said with a calm yet scornful tone. The trickster then turned around and begun pacing towards the bench on the left side of the cell. Tony grunted and grasped his collar in attempt to evade suffocation, trying hard not to be dragged to the other side of the room (the whole ordeal might seem childish and stubborn, but if yes, then you're wrong).
The struggles were in vain, of course. Even without his magic mojo (as he began to be more and more convinced that Loki (for one reason or another) wasn't able to use the said mojo), the god was still stronger than a normal (he was normal, right?) human being (which was totally fine, of course. If they would somehow be able to escape their captors, Tony'd be the first one to go. And by 'the first one to go' he meant the first one to be freaking beheaded), so Tony reluctantly let himself be dragged the (fortunately) small distance. And if something, then that did things to one's self-esteem. So, to come off as the one in charge of the situation, he stayed lying on the ground, arms mentally crossed over his chest (as he couldn't maintain the position with the cuffs binding his wrists together) and angrily glaring at the ceiling, like it had somehow personally offended him. Loki sat down on the bench and focused his eyes on the opposite wall. The engineer looked at him, narrowing his eyes again. Spoiled brat.
He would've made a quip about his magic gone missing now that it had popped up in his mind again, just to spite the god, but he then remembered the last time he had come up with joking about performance issues to the guy (and that damn window, of course) and the fact that they were no longer chained to separate walls. So he refrained. Just to, you know, freaking stay alive until he got the chance to break free.
He sighed. It was going to be a long day.
They kept waiting in the room for some time. It was hard tracking time, since Tony kept occasionally dozing off, despite the hard floor beneath him (yes, he was still lying on the floor. And no, he wasn't going to get up) and he was too proud to ask Loki. (Though Loki might have not been much of a help, as he seemed to be in a trance of some sort, just staring at the wall before him.)
It must have been hours, when the doors finally opened, and the two captives surged up to their feet. One of the resident aliens (clad in white) stepped into the room with two other, more slim aliens by its sides.
Tony felt his eyes widen. Chitauris.
"What the fu-" Cutting Tony's exclaim short, the white-clad alien pointed at them with a small device and instantly they were sent spinning around as their wrists, bound by handcuffs, hit the wall. A tiny hatch opened on the wall under his hands and machinery locked with the restrains. Tony gave them a yank. Stuck.
He turned to eye the aliens. The white clothed alien was standing and watching as one Chitauri was approaching Loki, the other making its way to Tony. He struggled again but the cuffs didn't yield. When it came close enough, the Chitauri grabbed him by his neck and pulled his head backwards a little. Tony was glad it was wearing the usual helmet, so that he didn't have to look at its fugly face.
It turned his head a few times before forcing his mouth open. Tony tried to back his head the fuck away from the stinky alien, but the Chitauri still managed to have a long look into his mouth and even fucking probe its finger in it. Tony spat at the Chitauri once his face was released. Unfortunately, it didn't hit the target as it had already moved, now rounding him. It pulled a small dagger from somewhere its armor.
"No," Tony said firmly. "You're not coming near me with that thing in you filthy paws-" The Chitauri ripped through the fabric of his (hideous, mind you) clothes and Tony was now buck ass naked, the white shreds, his clothes just a second ago, on piles by his feet. Never mind how terrible of a fashion flop they'd been or what he'd ever said about them, but he would really rather have them on now than be completely nude in front of four aliens from three different races on a humongous motherfucking spaceship in who knows fucking where.
The engineer glared at the Chitauri, his limbs starting to tremble slightly (obviously from the temperature, since it was freaking cold, dammit). He felt the familiar panic beginning to rise within his chest, and hunched his shoulders (aiming for an unnoticeable movement) to shield the arc reactor from sight.
The Chitauri (ass as it was) anyway took a step forward and started smoothing its dirty grey hands over the squirming Tony, like it was a customer checking its goods. He shuddered as its hands moved down his back and then to the front, closing Tony in a sick imitation of hug. The touch made him feel nauseous and he kept swallowing and blinking to keep it under control.
The hands stopped not an inch from the light bulb in his chest and Tony's breath caught in his throat. They continued their intrusive movement and the engineer had to screw his eyes shut. God, I'm so gonna throw up.
The groping luckily didn't last long, as the arc reactor seemingly had been the last spot to "check". Tony opened his eyes and saw Loki eyeing him, face expressionless, by his left. He didn't maintain the contact as the cuffs were released from the wall. He staggered backwards a little before turning to see the two Chitauris pointing at them with light colored things in their fists. Tony had already learned that pointing never meant anything good.
Out of the blue, the two started leaving the room. Tony glanced at Loki with a baffled expression. The god was frowning.
But then, Tony felt a familiar, strong yank at his neck as a blue line appeared, glowing in the air before him. Loki was also pulled forth and he bumped against Tony, nearly making him trip. Tony glared at the guy, but it was met by a smirk that clearly said a sarcastic and very fake and mischievous "oops". He gave a soft and angry sigh but moved along when the collar was being tugged again. (Well, it wasn't like he actually had a choice, but moving on.)
They walked along the hallway (yes, both still very naked. How did Loki have that much muscle on him? The guy was a freaking string bean, it should be practically impossible! And yes, of course Tony checked out the naked god walking next to him. What a waste would it be not to. Never let it to be said that Tony Stark wasn't curious. Though he kept his eyes above the god's waist, since Loki was glaring at him pretty hostilely. Or maybe he was enjoying the view also? Never let it be said either that Tony Stark wasn't one hot piece of ass. Not to brag but still, he was), the two Chitauris leading the way and the alien, now accompanied by a guard alien, following closely behind.
They didn't have to walk long until they arrived to a large (biggest one Tony'd seen on the ship so far) door. It slid open, revealing a room that looked completely out of the ship they had been on. Instead of white and light gray, accompanied by a dash of yellow once in a while, the room was dim and coated with shiny, dark metal, the yellow replaced by an ominous, almost neon red. It was harsh and unforgiving. Tony bet that this was one of the portal thingies the aliens were said to be (that Loki said to be) specialized in, and that the room before them was the Chitauri's ship. The Chitauris continued on their path.
Tony tried to slow the other Chitauri down with his 'leash', leaning backwards and digging the heels of his feet to the hard floor, but he was dragged to the other side with no difficulties. He even felt the change in the air as they moved from one ship to another, something he now remembered he might have felt when he'd been abducted in the first place.
The 'leashes' flickered out of existence and one of the Chitauri walked back over to the other two aliens. After a brief discussion, it handed them something that was most likely currency around here. They eyed it over and gibbered something that sounded like an approval. When the Chitauri stepped away from the aliens' ship, the light and bright hallway zapped away, like it had been a hologram or something similar all along. The Chitauri turned to them, and suddenly, Tony missed that awful slave ship. As twisted as it was.
Loki tensed by his side and took a step away from the Chitauris on both of their sides. The movement made the bond between them strain and Tony had to take a following step after the trickster, to reduce the uncomfortable pressure on his throat. Loki looked like he wanted to groan loudly at that, so Tony sent a glare his way.
A sharp grunt pulled them away from their silent bickering and they turned to look at the Chitauri that had executed the purchasing. Tony narrowed his eyes at it. It was pointing at them with a scepter, a similar one to the ones that the Chitauri foot soldiers had had back in New York. God knows where it'd gotten it from in such a small amount of time. It gestured for them to follow the other Chitauri behind their backs with it. Loki froze where he stood, looking murderous.
The Chitauri gave a sound that could maybe be called a scoff and charged at them, scepter swinging ahead. Loki ducked the alien's attack but the spear continued its track and stopped barely an inch from Tony's face. Uhm... At the same, the other Chitauri pressed its scepter against the god's back. Loki's eyes moved furiously from side to side, but seemingly came to the same conclusion as Tony did. Any following movement would result in either a missing limb or a sack of dead mortal meat, shackled to him, lying motionless on the ground and thus preventing escape. Not that he by himself or they together had any chance even getting out of the ship. Not without Loki's magic or a way out.
So, they moved through the door with the scepters against their backs. They walked a short hallway, dimly lit with blue light, into another room. There, something was thrown at his back.
Tony spun around preparing for a fight. No fight came, and after glancing at the Chitauri, the engineer looked down to his feet. There lay a pair of tight-looking leather pants and a sleeveless shirt with a high collar, made of the same material. Well, at least they're better-looking than the shit we had to wear with the other guys.
The cuffs gave a hiss as they opened and dropped to the ground. Tony groaned and rubbed at his sore wrists. Those things had chafed the living shit out of him! He quickly glanced at the Chitauri again, but then picked up the trousers. He swiftly pulled them on and then grabbed the shirt, proceeding similarly. Though this time, when his head emerged from under the neckline, there was a Chitauri staring at him. He would've hit the thing if his hands hadn't still been occupied with the shirt, but he did jump like crazy.
"Motherfucker..." the genius hissed. He didn't have much time to recover from the scare, before the Chitauri gripped his electronic collar harshly and brought a tiny, maybe a little key-like device to it. It touched the collar, and it shattered to bits, the pieces of machinery pattering against Tony's chest and shoulders. The Chitauri only savored the blue gem thingy and held it on its palm. Tony watched in mild shock. Why would they remove the collar?
He didn't have to wonder long though, as the Chitauri then unceremoniously and roughly straightened his shirt's collar up, tugging the clasps of it tightly closed, not caring of Tony's hands trying to stop its own, and pressed the shining blue thing against it, to the front and center of Tony's throat. He didn't have time to swat the hands away before the dim light made a quiet whirring noise, locking to its place. Handy, Tony had to give them that. The Chitauri gave a grunt or a snarl and stepped back.
Tony glared murderously at it and then eyed his attire. The leather was stiff and uncomfortable against his skin, and the clothes were colored in dark grey and black, highlighted with blood-red. He'd had to literally wrench the top piece on him, as it was very snug, and now that the engineer tried to loosen the clasps fastened in the middle of his chest and abdomen, securing the cloth tight on him, he found that they wouldn't budge. Not an inch. The pants for their part hugged the genius' legs and ass tightly. He huffed frustratedly. The previous clothes he'd had had at least been loose and somewhat comfortable.
He sent a look towards Loki. The god was wearing the exact replica of his clothes, only longer and slightly slimmer in size. He caught Tony's gaze the moment it landed on him, face scrunched up in a frown. The Chitauris were motioning them to move, and the two men pissedly complied. They continued into another hallway before Tony was shoved into a fairly large cell (or at least large compared to their earlier one), Loki being pushed to the one opposite to his.
The walls were dark and metallic and the floor was cold against his bare feet. The room was dim and very empty, only varieties in it being one window-like thing on the ceiling, shining a gloomy, blueish light, a hard-looking overhang on the wall, probably to serve as a (freaking uncomfortable one for sure) bed or a bench, the doorway he'd just entered through and a smallish niche on the wall opposite to the overhang. The niche's bottom had a dark hole in the center of it, and Tony didn't even want to think what the whole installation was for. Fan-fucking-tastic.
As soon as the Chitauri had deposited him, it exited through the door and it locked with a loud clunk. There was a square shaped shaft on the door, about on the height of his face. He could see Loki through it, who was standing still in his own cage. The aliens had seemingly altered the bond somehow, as they were now able to separate the length of the hallway and their cells (as Tony soon learned when Loki started pacing in his own one), though the blue line appeared at the instant they both happened to stand by the wall opposite to their cell doors, the farthest they could get from each other and the hallway. 20 feet, perhaps.
Well, at least there now was a privacy of some sort.
Tony groaned softly and slumped heavily on the unforgiving bench/bed/overhang/whatever, brushing a stressed hand through his dark locks. He leaned against his knees, thinking. He had no idea of what the aliens were going to do with him, no idea where the fuck he even was, and no idea if he'd ever get back. Back to home and to his family.
The billionaire eyed the floor, feeling tormented by his inability to do anything. Instead, he focused on his teammates, his family and friends, to stop the pathetic dwelling in self-pity. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts flow freely.
The first thing to pop up in Tony's mind, was the mother hen frown Steve always wore when he eyed Tony after a long night down in the workshop. He also remembered the delicious pancakes the captain made when he was feeling extra cheery. Now that it was online and working again, his stomach growled a bit when he came to the said pancakes. He tried to silence it with a mental scolding.
In the next moment, Pepper was smiling at his jokes, with her painted red lips, and then nagging good-naturedly about something so everyday. Her hair was tied up in a brisk ponytail and her perfume was as familiar as ever. A small smile tugged at Tony's lips.
Looking back to the shared moments with Happy, he remembered how the man was always so passionate about his job and how he held it in such a high value it. He really should hang out with Happy more often. And he would, if he ever got back (once he got back, Tony corrected).
He then recalled Clint sticking his head from random air shafts around the tower and the playful grin the archer always wore when doing so. What a simple guy, Tony'd often thought. But now he knew better than that.
He lived again the moments when Natasha had tackled him in the ring, attempting to teach him self-defense (which, according to her, he knew too little about), and then compared it with the sleepy redhead sipping coffee in loose pajamas or small t-shirts and shorts.
He thought about Thor enjoying every moment to the fullest when they watched a movie on a movie night, then him devouring a full box of Pop-Tarts in minutes. That guy was like a machine.
He remembered Rhodey, his oldest friend, sharing a beer with him, laughing at something silly and ruffling Tony's hair.
Lastly, he though about Bruce, Bruce's equations, and the way the scientist's hair was tousled and sticking against his cheek after an all-nighter. The warm smile he often flashed at Tony.
Now that he was finally alone, and didn't need to conceal it anymore, Tony couldn't stop it as his façade slipped away. His face scrunched up in pain and his shoulders shook as hard and stifled sobs wrecked his frame. He pulled his knees up, burying his face against the leather covering them. He wanted this all to be over, at this instant. Then wanted to stop being such a kid at the same, just be a man and suck it up. He wanted to fucking strangle those fucking Chitauris and the assholes back in the slave ship.
Above it all, he wanted to get back home. So bad. He couldn't quite silence the soft cry that escaped his mouth.
No matter how many times or how hard he tried, Tony couldn't stop the raw emotion coursing through him. As a result, he sat there for a long time, trembling, but otherwise motionless, letting it all out, until the hot tears finally ceased to stream down his cheeks. Until the tired and now tearless crying evened out and his hiccuping breaths calmed at last. Then he wiped his face, using the palms of his hands, and lay down, watching the door with an empty feeling lingering in his chest. He eventually drifted off to the sound of Loki's quiet steps, as the god paced in an endless circle in the cell opposite to Tony's.
He sucked in a shaky, yet determined breath. Tony Stark wouldn't give up.