Fractured

Tony had no idea what was going on. One moment he was struggling to stand, let alone breathe and the next he was in what could only be described as a make-shift hospital room. No one had told him why they had brought him there, although he was sure it had something to do with the fact that he was mere seconds away from passing out. He had to admit that it was kind of nice that they were “treating” him, even if he knew that they were pumping something into his system while they were. But when he was feeling fine and able to breath normally, he fully expected them to bring him back to the lab. Instead, though, they took him back to his cell and fed him an actually decent meal. Well, more decent than the protein box they seemed to throw at Clint and him every now and again. “A chicken sandwich? You really couldn’t spare the extra couple dollars and give me a cheeseburger?” he asked the guards.

They didn’t say anything as they left him. “Well, I wonder why Zemo decided to give us something better than PB&Js. Any idea, Clint?”

He was tearing into his sandwich when he realized that Clint hadn’t answered. “Barton?”

He finally looked over at the neighboring cell and frowned when he realized it was empty. That was weird. If he wasn’t still hurting from his near-death experience, he would have gotten up to see if maybe the bird was hiding under the bed or something but even from his vantage point on his cot he could tell that wasn’t the case. Instead, he furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out where in the world his little hawk buddy could be. Clint had told him that they were pumping him with a drug to slow his reflexes so maybe they were off giving him his daily dose.

But that shouldn’t have taken hours. Tony wasn’t a doctor, but he had been with medical teams enough after missions to know who quickly a simple injection should take. He also knew how much of a problem Clint could be in a medical bay but given their circumstances Tony somehow doubted that he was up to giving hell to the Hydra medical staff. But the longer he sat there alone the more worried he got. He was about to cause a scene to get someone to give him some answers when the door opened from the hallway and Zemo came storming in, obviously fuming from something. Barton. Had to be. Only Clint could make someone that mad. “Oh, hey Z, I was just about to call you,” Tony greeted, achingly pushing himself to his feet.

Zemo, however, was not in a bantering mood as he ignored Tony’s greeting and stood in front of the glass barrier. “What is Barton hiding?”

“Who?”

Zemo gritted his teeth and banged his fist on the glass. “I have lost my patience, Stark. Tell me what you know about Barton.”

Tony was confused as to why Zemo wanted to know anything about Clint. He must want something. “What makes you think I know anything about him? The guy is a closed book. I don’t think anyone really knows anything about him. Why don’t you ask his brother since the two of you seem so buddy-buddy.”

He wasn’t sure what it was but Tony didn’t like the way Zemo was glaring him down. It was like he wanted to say or do something but something was holding him back. In fact, Tony for sure thought that he was about to shock him when he saw how Zemo pulled a switch out of his pocket. He couldn’t hide the flinch as his thumb pressed the button but he didn’t feel a shock. All he heard was the glass barrier that separated Clint’s cell from his slide down into the floor, joining the two rooms. “I have been more than patient with both of you, however my patience has run its course. I would suggest you have a word with Agent Barton reminding him that there are consequences if he does not cooperate any further.”

“Cooperate with what, exactly?”

“With the deal he made on your behalf.”

Tony didn’t like how Zemo said that. He didn’t like a lot of things, actually. Especially the way that Zemo kept staring him down. The door behind Zemo opened and two of the usual guards came through, dragging a very limp Clint Barton between them. The door slid open and they threw him in unceremoniously. In fact, he was sure they were extra rough about it considering the thud and groan from Clint were rather loud. Either that or it was just because there was no buffer between the two men anymore. Tony didn’t bother to look at Zemo as he made a beeline straight towards his fellow Avenger. His main concern was finding out what had happened and the well-being of his friend. “Clint…hey Clint, buddy, nap time is over. Need you to wake up, pal.”

He faintly heard the door close as Zemo and his minions left, as his attention was on the half-conscious man now laying at his feet. “Come on, Barton. Now is not the time to be sleeping on the job.”

Clint groaned and mumbled something but Tony couldn’t quite catch what he was saying. He could have sworn that he heard his brother’s name, but it was so soft that he wasn’t sure if that was at all what Clint was muttering. “I’m sorry,” he muttered as he gently patted Clint on the face a couple of times.

After the fourth hit Clint’s eyes seemed to finally focus and Tony was thoroughly surprised that the assassin didn’t jump or attack him. Damn, buddy, what did they do to you? He seemed to blink a few times before his eyes narrowed in obvious confusion. “Tony?”

“There he is. Glad to see your eyes still work.”

Clint blinked a few more times before gazing around the room. “Don’t get too excited. We’re still in this hell hole. Zemo just lowered the barrier between us.”

“No…no….” Clint was weakly waving his hands and trying to push Tony away, “It’ssa trick…”

“Oh, Barton, they really put you through the ringer,” Tony sighed as he grabbed Clint and helped him up. Well, it took a few attempts as he fought the pain in his chest from the exertion and Clint was essentially dead weight but eventually, he got him up and slowly carried him over to his cot and laid him down. All the while Clint was muttering something about tricks and getting out of his head, but Tony didn’t say anything. He would get his answers once whatever was in his system had worn off.

However long that was.

With Clint seemingly out of commission, his intention was to make his way back to his own cot but after the physical effort of just carrying Clint to his cot, Tony was exhausted and he opted for leaning against the wall and sitting on the floor next to his friend to catch his breath. At least, that was what he originally planned. However, as Clint continued to mutter and toss in his dazed state, Tony found that even with the strength to get up and move to a less uncomfortable spot that he couldn’t. His concern continued to grow so he just continued to sit there and monitor the bird.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed but it had to have been a while because Tony was just beginning to nod off when the rustle of movement next to him made his head shoot up and he heard Clint, very groggily, mutter, “Tony?”

Tony had quickly turned his head and spotted Clint trying to push himself up into a seated position. “Look who’s back in the land of the living,” Tony greeted as he pushed himself to his feet and came to stand next to Clint’s cot, “I was starting to think you were never going to leave La La Land.”

Clint’s brow knitted together and he stared at Tony. Tony could tell that Clint was trying to wrack his brain as to how it was that Tony was standing directly in front of him. “Yeah, our host took down the barrier between us. Don’t ask me why.”

As Clint got himself situated into a seated position, Tony noticed how he was poking his leg. “I don’t understand….” Clint muttered before he was rudely interrupted by what sounded like a painful coughing fit.

“You and me both, Hawkbutt. I would offer you some water but I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be drinking from our toilets.”

Clint held up a hand and shook his head as he pushed out whatever was bugging his lungs. He kept poking his leg before he managed to mutter out, “Pinch me.”

“What?”

“Pinch me,” Clint repeated, his voice hoarse and his eyes insistent. Tony sighed, muttering an, “Okay…” before he grabbed Clint’s arm with his forefinger and thumb and pinched hard.

Clint grunted first before he seemed to chuckle in relief. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered as he leaned back against the wall.

Tony’s brow raised even more as he questioned why Clint seemed relieved. “You want to tell me what that’s about? Or where the hell you’ve been for the past few hours.”

“Not really.”

Tony eyed him with a questioning gaze. “Don’t give me that look, Tony. You made your secret deal behind my back and I made mine.”

“Yeah, to save your sorry ass from dying of hypothermia.”

“And how is that any different than stopping you from getting killed by Extremis?”

“Okay, first off, I’m a genius, so I would have been able to make sure that didn’t happen. And two, I had a plan. Did you have a plan other than proving that you are incapable of trusting that I have things under control?”

“You may be a genius, Tony, but you’re not a biochemist. One wrong move or equation or whatever it is you science guys do could kill you. And don’t tell me you had it under control because each time they brought you back, you looked worse than when you left.”

“You really think Zemo would be hosting us this long just for us to push ourselves to the point where we might die?”

“Yeah, Tony. I think that’s exactly what’s he wants to do. He wants to see how far either of us are willing to go. He’s testing loyalty and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit off to the side and let you kill yourself for this stupid game of his.”

“And what about me, Clint? You expect me to just sit by and watch you put yourself through….. whatever the hell it is that you’re exchanging for me?”

“I expect you to get better and survive until Nat brings the cavalry to get us out,” Clint had replied when he rubbed the back of his neck. He looked like he was about to say something but his eyes were drawn to something behind Tony. There was something about the look in his eyes and the way his brow furrowed in confusion that, if Tony didn’t know better, would make him believe that Clint had seen a ghost. He stopped whatever snarky comment that was about to come out of his mouth to look over his shoulder, only to see what he fully expected – an empty white wall. “What is it, Barton? What do your Hawk eyes see?”

He blinked a couple times and rubbed his eyes before sitting up a bit straighter and his face, while growing more relaxed, seemed even more confused. “Nothing,” he muttered, breathing out a painfully heavy sigh.

“Yeah, right, you always look that concerned or confused whenever you don’t see anything.” Tony stood up slowly, groaning as his stiff joints seemed to argue with him, “Look, you don’t want to share, that’s fine. But when they brought you back, Zemo said you were hiding something, which makes me believe that he’s interrogating you. For what? Who knows. You were a high-level SHIELD operative so you could know just about anything that he’s interested in… “

“I’m not hiding anything from him.”

The comment was so abrupt and sudden that Tony completely forgot what it was that he was even going to follow up his original statement with. In fact, everything about how Clint was behaving was off-putting, to say the least. The way Clint was looking past Tony and clenching his fists made him seriously guess what was going on with the bird in front of him. “I never said you were, Clint.”

“Just…. leave me alone,” Clint muttered, shifting his legs back under him and rolling on his cot so his back was to Tony with his arms gripping each other right behind his neck. Tony wasn’t sure what was going on, let alone why Barton was acting so strangely so instead of pushing any further, he retreated to his side of the adjoining cells. About halfway he turned, his eyes landing on his friend and for a brief moment, he thought he heard Clint mutter, “Leave me alone….just leave me alone….”

TBC….