they made me do it
Natasha feels her muscles tremor and intermittently shake as the last lot of electricity pulses though.
“What’s even the point?” He grumbles.
“Weaken us? Stop us from escaping?” Her teeth clash as a tremor runs through.
He’s counted six shocks, and tense automatically as the faraday cage makes the familiar noise of electricity and they’re shocked again.
“It’s not a high enough voltage to do anything really,” she says, when she gets her breathing under control.
“And you would know this how?”
“I just do.”
There’s a lull and they both are quiet in their own thoughts.
The woman enters again, but this time the men have cattle prods instead of guns and she carries a mean looking knife.
“We all ok in here?” She asks with a smile.
“Bit bored, actually,” Natasha opens, smiling sarcastically back.
The man approaches her and punches her in the face again. Her split lip pours blood and Tony shouts loud.
The man walks to Tony and does the same.
Tutting, the woman turns to Tony.
“I’ve got the injection, but first I think, we need to work on you both a little, have a little fun, don’t you think?” She walks over to Natasha and brushes her hair out of her face.
Flinching Natasha makes eye contact, and spits blood onto the floor.
“You first I think,” she says, “you seem to get him All. Riled. Up.” As she breaks the sentence up, she touches Natasha’s face with her knife, as though caressing with a hand. Tony knows she doesn’t particularly like touch by others, giving it only in certain contexts.
He’s watched her, more than he cares to admit; sees how she sits just out of reach, stands when someone comes close, it’s familiar.
It’s kindred.
“Stay away from her,” he grunts, straining against his bonds.
She laughs.
“Oh Mr. Stark, like you have any bargaining power, but thank you for proving my point.”
Looking Tony in the eyes, she stands behind Natasha, knife to her neck, she cuts along her collar bone.
“Shallow cuts,” she whispers. “Shallow cuts,” and makes a identical slit on the other side.
“I am not brutal,” she lets them know, as she cuts down Natasha’s arm, “but they are.”
She nods to the two men.
“They’ve been instructed not to go too far, broken bones, bruises, burns, blood, all the wonderful alliteration of pain, all in preparation for Extremis to heal you,” the woman moves to the door.
“Not you,” she says to Tony, “but I think you deserve it after what happened with Killian.”
“Good luck,” she says, leaving Tony and Natasha with the two men who flick open extendable batons.
.
He holds Natasha’s gaze as they break her fingers. The audible snaps make him feel nauseous as her jaw clenches and eyes widen.
She holds his as they hit him again with the cattle prod. He’s not as stoic as he yells and cries out in pain.
They concentrate more on Natasha, hitting her the face, and stomach. They laugh as she mocks them, and they hit her again.
The baton reigns down on Tony’s arm and this time it’s his arm that feels broken.
When they’re hitting Tony, she comments on how they’re getting tired, and feels the full force of their rage back at her.
He knows she’s trying to protect him, but he doesn’t want her to.
This is his fault.
So he yells back about how they’re incompetent and that they can get fucked.
What seems to get them most is when they ignore the two of them.
“Done this before?” He asks her.
She laughs, and coughs, blood running down her chin.
“This is child’s play, they’re not going to do anything that I can’t recover from,” she says seriously.
“Oh yeah?” Says one of the goons and pulls a knife.
Natasha eyes it carefully.
He cuts off her singlet and Tony’s face goes white.
The door opens and he seems abashed holding the cut fabric as the Woman walks through the door.
“That’s enough.”
Natasha can’t help but laugh. It turns into another wet cough, but she’s able to speak when she catches her breath.
“That’s it?” She derides.
“You want more?” The woman asks, waving her gun.
Tony flinches as it’s pointed at her face.
“Natasha, shut up,” he warns.
The woman nods at Tony serenely.
“Don’t worry, Miss, Mrs? Romanoff, there’s always more. But this time, it’s not me.”
She unlocks Tony and makes him stand next to her, her gun trained at his chest. He holds onto his broken arm, and feels like he’s going to faint, as pain runs through his body.
He takes strength from Natasha’s gaze, as she breathes shallowly.
She’s a mess of blood and bruises, as he supposes he is, but on her, it looks worse.
He forgets how slight she is, without her top on, he sees her bruising wrap around her body, angry and multicoloured.
“Inject her,” she demands.
“What?” He says, looking at her harshly.
She holds up a syringe.
Extremis.
“If you don’t, we’ll do a lot worse to her. The men think she’s… beautiful, even as they had cut into her,” she pauses.
Tony feels sick.
“And if that doesn’t convince you, we’ll go and get Pepper Potts, you’re both attached to her, we know. She can test it for us.”
“Do you understand what I’m saying? Or do I need to be more graphic? Inject her Mr. Stark.”
“Why me?” Tony stalls.
“Because you’ll have ownership over it, you’ll want, for both your sakes, to make this work,”
She places the injector into his hand, points her gun at him, and the two men at her side, do the same.
“Go on, Mr Stark,”
“Tony, look at me,” Natasha’s voice permeates his thinking. He wants to tell her to shut up as he tries to think of a way out.
“Tony. Look at me,” she implores again. He’s just got to think. Natasha is looking at him, piecing eyes breaking through his thoughts.
“It’s ok. They’re coming for us, right?” She reasons.
They’re not. There’s no way the others can find them, they’re pretty much in a burn box, and he has no way of knowing if her body will regulate it, kill her or kill them all.
He can’t do this.
He’s going to kill his friend and there’s nothing he can do.
He’s not smart enough, not good enough, to stop this.
She’s saying his name again.
Guns are being cocked.
“I can’t,” he whispers to no one in particular.
“Tony. Look at me,” he does, and sees trust on her face. “It can’t be Pepper again,” she doesn’t mention the other threat. He can’t watch that.
She can see what he’s thinking, and her face softens.
“I’d prefer this,” she acknowledges, looking at the syringe.
His breathing quickens.
“You have one minute, Mr Stark, otherwise I’m leaving them, with her and you,” she knows what threat really landed,
The syringe is heavy in his hands, the liquid flowing, as he flicks it.
He steps closer to her.
“It’s the right decision,” she assures, “I promise.”
He looks her in the eye, swallowing hard, trying to be as brave as she is.
“I can reverse it,” he promises, desperately, “I did it for Pepper, I can do it for you.”
She holds his gaze.
“I know. It’s ok,” Natasha nods, “I know.”
“Tick tock, Stark,” she counts down.
Tony’s heart is rabbiting, as he pushes it into Natasha’s arm.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.
His demons haunt him and everyone he cares about again.
First Pepper, now Natasha. Killian’s curse, AIM, all coming to haunt him; again and again.
A tear slips out, as Natasha’s head falls back and he sees her bite her lip in pain.
.