Chapter 2
Tony wakes up slowly the next morning...at least he thinks it’s morning. He has no idea what time it is or how long he was originally unconscious. I could be twelve days later and Tony would have no idea of it.
Are the others okay? Did they live? Is Steve okay? Are they looking for him or do they think he’s dead as well. Is he getting his hopes up only for them to be stomped into dust on the floor of this room.
His head shoots up when the door opens.
“Good morning,” The wannabe says and sets a box on the desk before coming over to Tony.
“May I have permission to uncuff you? I will need to touch you,” he says and Tony nods and Not Steve pushes the key into each cuff and he keeps Tony upright when his knees buckle. Not Steve helps him over to a chair and then brings the box over.
“There are clothes in here. They’ll be big. I didn’t have your sizes, but if you give my your clothes I can buy some later today,” Not Steve says. That’s good. That means it’s morning. Not Steve opens a door on the side of the room into a bathroom.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to change and wash up and return with your breakfast,” Not Steve says and leaves and Tony immediately searches the room for anything he can use as a weapon. Trying to pull a spring off the bed spring but nothing helps. There’s nothing in the room to be found. Nothing to help him.
He hops into the shower and finds shampoo, soap, and conditioner already there. And some of them are partially empty.
Five guesses who used them.
Tony takes the quickest shower of his life and towels off before changing into the clothes from the box. They are much larger than his normal clothing and the seem to be worn at least once and when he sniffs them he recognizes the smell as the scent currently clinging to his skin.
When he steps back into the room Not Steve is there and with two chairs on either side of the desk and a platter of breakfast food on the table.
“I made your favorite coffee,” Not Steve says motioning to the other chair. Tony does do and feels along the underside of the chair for a nail or piece of metal bracketing. This freak really is smart, there wasn’t even a mirror he could smach for a piece of glass.
“Thank you, did you make everything?” Tony asks reaching out for the cup of coffee. His hand shaking a little as he takes it.
“Yeah...I.. you deserve the effort,” Not Steve says and...oh for fucks sake...the man is blushing! When did Tony’s life stoop to this.
“Thank you,” Tony says sliding his nail into one of the screws he feels under his chair.
“Of course, please have as much as you like. I made them all for you,” Not Steve says.
“Will you not be eating?” Tony decides to ask. If this guy is playing out some courting fantasy then Tony’s best bet of survival is to play along as long as he can until he can escape or the other Avengers can come save him.
“I ate earlier. I did not want to take food from your plate until I was sure you had enough,” Not Steve says,
“That is very kind of you. But I feel weird being the only one eating. Please have some,” Tony says. This is nothing, he’s been playing along to the whims of others to satisfy his own needs since he was out of the womb. This something he can do.
“Thank you,” Not Steve says and reaches out and takes one of the pieces of french toast and dips it into the syrup.
It takes a couple of minutes before they finish but soon they clear the plate.
“I assume this means back to the cuffs?” Tony asks.
“Not yet. We are going to go for a walk,” Not Steve says.
“I think I would rather stay here,” Tony says moving back and away from the man. If they move to a secondary location then it’ll be even harder for him to find.
“It is for your benefit. If I keep you immobile too long you will be severely injured. You don’t want to lose the use of your arms and I don’t want that for you either. I know how painful it would be if you lost the ability to build,” Not Steve says.
“Oh.”
“So, Tony will you go for a walk with me?” Not Steve says. Tony really doesn’t have a choice in the matter. He has to make sure he maintains his ability to move if he has any hope of fighting and escaping.
“Yes,” Tony says and he feels like he’s done something bad but he must do it.
He feels like he’s locked in a dance with the devil.