Don't tell me... [that you love me]

Try to imagine what it will be like to go to sleep and never wake up... Now try to imagine what it was like to wake up having never gone to sleep.*

Darkness.
Cold.
Pain.
What's happening?
Whispers.
Pain.
Emptiness.
Fear.
Where am I?
Panic.
Pain.
Silence.
Surrender.
Who am I?
Pain.
Cold.
Darkness.

"Hello, Mr. Stark," a voice came from the darkness. Was he talking to him? "How are you feeling today? I have a gift for you. We invented a special medicine that will cure you, Sir. Extremis healing factor. This is not the typical Extremis Virus, we've pulled out of it the best ingredients, and created something new... something wonderful. And you're going to test it. You'll be the first. Is that not the reason to be proud of?"

The subject shifted in his chair, he was chained. He had no idea where is he, what is his name, and what this other man was saying. Everytime they came, they called him Tony, or Stark, so he concluded it must be his name. He also didn't know what was this whole Extremis thing, but he had a bad feeling. Something was telling him it's nothing good. Perhaps he had a contact with it earlier, but couldn't tell for sure. He felt the needle on the neck, hiss escaped his mouth when the virus was applied to him. The strange guy laughed loud, and left. Once again, he was left alone with his thoughts.

He didn't know how many days had passed, he lost count in the darkness. But... for a long time noone came. Tony thought that the experiment failed, and he was left to die. He was hungry, and he was cold... also terribly thirsty, his lips were chapped and glued together. Noone will come, they left him... the only comfort was the lack of pain. He hung his head slightly, swaying from side to side, humming a song under his breath. Some time passed, he heard footsteps. Was it his imagination? The door opened, few people came inside the room. Something bright flashed before him. They turned the lights on. He closed his eyes, it was too bright, dazzled him. It hurts.

"Stark?!" someone shouted in disbelief.

"Your new toy, Rumlow. Tony Stark. Your Asset." some guy replied with a proud voice. Probably the same one, who brought the food. They removed the locks on the chair, he was no longer chained. But after this, they attached some device to his chest. They told him to open the eyes, and then to get up. He wasn't used to walking, nor to seeing. He spent too much time chained to the chair, in the darkness. He staggered, almost fell. He regained his balance after a while, but none of these guys were happy with that stumble. Bad boy, stand straight, you oaf. said one of them, and pressed a button on the controller. Tony felt pain, he screamed. Electricity passed through his body. But he stood straight, as he was told. He felt something warm and wet running down his trouser leg. He piss himself. He couldn't control it. Men gathered before him bursted out laughing. "Look, you bonehead. This is your handler, Brock Rumlow. You will listen to him, and obey all orders, otherwise you will meet a punishment. Greet him properly and kneel. Make him feel good and suck him off." the man in a white coat laughed, pointing at the guy right next to him, dressed in black with a big hood. Tony shivered, obediently went to him and knelt down. Right when he put his trembling hands on man's belt, he was stopped.

"What the fuck are you doing? Give me that remote." he snarled to the guy in a white coat, took the controller. Then he pulled Tony up. Stark didn't understand, but was shit scared. If he won't execute the command he will be punished, right? They said so. Rumlow shook him, as if trying to wake him up from his thoughts.

"I've always thought that you wanted to humiliate Stark. Eh... we just wanted to show you he is ready to do as he is told to, he will comply and fullfill your every whim. He will spread his legs and let you fuck him, he can suck you off. He will obey. He will kill your targets without asking, as well as create new weapons. In any case, he has no memories. He don't remember a thing, but he's a genius. Engineer and inventor. He's gifted. That's why we planned a Wipe every two weeks to keep him in a good form. We don't want him to accidentaly remember something, right? We didn't program him, Winter Soldier was a disaster and a mistake, we have learned from this. From the beginning it was fine, but then it got out of control. So this is it, a pure Tony Stark, devoid of memories." one of those guys explained extensively. He was a sciencist. "Honestly, he shouldn't recall anything even without the Wipe, but we prefer to be safe than sorry."

"Brock, we can't give you him yet, we must now perform a number of tests. We were waiting with them for your arrival. Tomorrow we begin, you will observe. See if you like it..." another man drawled his words with contempt, and lifted Tony's chin upwards. "...or not."

He felt the needle on the left side of his neck. Injection. Soon after, his knees buckled under him, he lost consciousness. He fell asleep.

"Why you're screaming? It hurts? Pain is just an illusion," a man laughed kicking him in the ribs... again and again. How long it lasted? An hour? Two? Maybe half a day. His hands were cuffed, as if he was able to do any harm to them. He could not. Strange suction cups with wires were still attached to the chest, each his disobedience or wrong answer resulted in electric shock. A punishment. Pain is an illusion, so they said. But he couldn't take it any longer, again he fell on the floor. Again, the current passed through his body when he couldn't force himself to stand up. Trickle of sweat ran down his forehead. His Handler was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, watching him. He certainly wasn't happy seeing how his Asset curled in pain on the floor.

His wounds healed up quickly, but it also hurt. Another rib was mending, once again the tibia in his leg was going back on its place. He stood up. Another day they beat him up, treated with current. He couldn't remember how long it lasted already. Maybe a week, maybe two... Then they forced him to think hard, solve puzzles, memorize information, or connect the wires with broken hands. They threw terribly cold water with ice at him, or water hot enough to burn the skin. Once he passed it all, he was beaten up by some bully. He was meant to win the duel with this thug... He didn't win, so everything started all over again.

He had no strength to stand up, and he was handcuffed. Even some sort of effective defense was not an option. Once again he was hit in the face, another bone broke. He fell, silently this time, his tired gaze stuck on the cold floor. He felt an electric shock.

"Stand up."

"That's enough," a voice came from the corner of the room. His Handler. Tony didn't even had the courage to look at him. He noticed the man was giving him a hand. "Catch up." Tony obediently grabbed an outstretched hand, and was pulled up. He still had trouble maintaining balance, but his Handler held him in place. He was scared. He just showed his weakness and it wasn't good. He'll be punished for this. Probably The Chair is waiting for him. Yes. He already met with The Chair and they became a good friends.

Another day at the cafeteria in HYDRA's base, Brock instead of eating, was talking to the sciencists about the start of his Asset's combat training. At least some basics of self-defense. He managed to convince them. With a corner of his eye he watched Tony, who was sitting alone in the end of the hall. After a while he noticed that some bully knocked his Asset's food from the table. He saw that Stark wanted to do something, but couldn't. If he attacked a member of HYDRA he would end up on The Chair. So he just crouched down, and began to collect everything from the floor, then that bully kicked him. What the hell? Brock immediately got up and walked over to the guy. Without saying a word, he grabbed him by the collar and slammed against the wall. He threatened him, if once again something like that will happen, he'll be blown up. Then he helped Tony to pick up everything, but didn't let him eat this. He dragged his Asset by force to his own table, and forced to eat his own meal. He wasn't hungry anyway. Tony resisted for a while, but his hunger took over. Don't know why, Crossbones felt some sympathy for him. Supposedly he shouldn't, it was Tony Stark, the enemy of HYDRA, but still... so unaware of anything, defenseless, without memories, like a puppet... Brock couldn't just kick that little puppy aside. No, it wasn't sympathy... It was his own honor and respect. His reputation. Tony was his Asset, his toy. No one should touch his toys.

"From today on, you eat with me. Understood? You always sit next to me." Brock ordered, glancing at the other man.

"Understood," he replied automatically. Orders are orders.

Tony had a small cell, enough space for the firm mattress, and a cabinet with three drawers for clothes. The bathroom was shared, down the hallway to the left. He shared it with other, less important members of HYDRA living in the base. However, it often happened that he slept in the corridor, because some much stronger guys threw him from his own room. Or they took his clothes when he was in the shower, so he returned to his cell naked. At first, he felt bad about it, but then ceased to care. What else he could do? He had no chance in a fight with them, he was weaker and alone. It was still better than The Chair. To face them he would need something... some weapon...

This time it was exactly the same, they took his clothes when he was in the shower. He wrapped himself tightly in a wet towel, returned to the cell and curled up on the floor. He had wet hair, he was cold but there was nothing he could do. Unluckily - or luckily -, his Handler was passing the corridor this day...

"Fucking sake," a voice was heard somewhere on the side, someone crouched next to him and wrapped him in a warm jacket. Tony lifted his head, met brown eyes filled with irritation.

"I'm sorry. I'll get better," Tony suddenly blurted out, pushing his back into the wall. "Please, just not Chair."

"There will be no fucking chair. Who did this to you? Why are you sitting in the hallway?" Rumlow drawled through gritted teeth.

"I don't know, I didn't ask. They took my cell," the genius replied pointing at the door to his room.

Brock sighed, reaching under his shirt, he took off his dog tags with a name and hang them on Tony's neck. Then he stood up and pulled him up. He whispered wait into his ear, and broke the door with a single kick. He'll teach them that no one is allowed to play with his toys. He didn't treat them too gently, all of them ran out bloodied, stumbling and shouting. He came out himself right after he got rid of all bullies, at the end he kicked the door lying on the floor. He embraced the frightened Asset with an arm and led him to his apartment. It couldn't be called otherwise. Tons of space, with its own bathroom, kitchen, bar and a large bedroom. He pointed his finger at Tony's chest, which wore now his insignia.

"My dog tags. If someone will harass you again, show this and tell them they will have to deal with me later."

Tony didn't understand, he glanced at the badges hanging from his neck. Brock seated him on a comfortable, leather couch and disappeared into the bathroom. He returned with a clean towel, and began to wipe Stark's wet hair.

"You hungry?" the question was asked, but before Tony could answer, his stomach betrayed him and rumbled pitifully.

Rumlow smiled, brought him another towel and clean clothes, probably his own. He told him to dry and dress, and he at that time will make him something to eat. Tony obediently performed his command. The clothes were two sizes too big, but they were warm and dry, so he couldn't complain. Brock came back with a plate full of eggs with bacon, two toasts and a cup of hot chocolate. He set a meal before Tony, and sank into the armchair next to him. Asset instantly started eating.

"I almost forgot. From now on, you live here," Brock said, not even looking at Tony. He turned on the TV and set it to some movie.

"Here?" the genius asked, not understanding.

"Yes, here. With me."

"Understood."

"Hands higher, this is good. Left leg further back. The blow must come from the shoulder, hand must be straight, lock your wrist or you will break it. Good, strike."

Over the next weeks, Tony practiced hard the basics of martial arts and self-defense under the watchful eye of his Handler. Every second week, in Saturdays he landed on The Chair. After this he had huge gaps in his memory, but Brock patiently reminded him about everything. They met for the first time regularly every two weeks... but after few days he remembered everything he should know, he just couldn't recall anything before HYDRA. Sciencists halted their tests until Brock will decide the Asset is ready. So he beat a punching bag with all his strength, wanting his Handler to be proud of him. After all, he let Tony live at his place and significantly less people harrased him. Rumlow held him close and this way Tony was more or less safe.

"Now kick. When you have immobilized hands, you need a support from your legs,"

So Tony kicked. He hit the bag until he dropped to the floor from exhaustion. Then there was a shower and dinner at the cafeteria. He wore a black T-shirt with a crossed bones. Already in his size, but still with Rumlow symbols. His Handler decided it'll be better this way. Everyone threw them inquisitive, curious looks. Suddenly, a woman in a green, long hair that hid half of her face, came to them.

"You shouldn't flaunt this much," she whispered, leaning over the table.

"Flaunt?" Rumlow asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They're watching you," she looked at Brock. After they ate the meal in silence, the woman spoke again. "You harm yourself. You came back from the dead once, you won't have a second chance. Be careful."

"You came back from the dead?" Tony asked, but then apologetically lifted his hands up, fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't."

"I told you to behave normally with me. Relax, you're safe... And yes, I put a bomb on myself last year and survived the blast," he said after a moment, getting up from the table. "Extremis also flows through my veins, slightly stronger than yours."

Again this word. Extremis. Chills ran down his spine. He still had no idea what is this, but he knew he has it in his blood, and that it heals him...

Rumlow made a bed for his Asset from a leather couch, he brought soft duvet, few pillows and clean sheets. He dissolved a sleeping pills in a glass of water and gave it to Tony, who trustfully drank everything. He stroked him for a while, when he fell limply on the pillows.

"Everything will be fine," he whispered, brushing his lips against Tony's forehead, and covered him with a blanket.

He pulled a communicator from his pocket. A message with calendar was displaying in a corner of the screen. Planned Wipe: in three hours. He looked at the sleeping, totally unaware of anything man on the couch. He didn't know if he was doing the right thing, the consequences could be enormous. But he didn't care now. He poured himself a glass of scotch and dialed a number.

"This is Rumlow. The Asset is not feeling well, probably has a fever. Not bringing him today," he said disconnecting next second. He wasn't going to listen to the answer. He smiled, feeling the drink burns his throat. They said even without The Chair Tony won't be able to remember anything. Nothing bad will happen if he'll skip a session... or maybe two, or more... He laughed, putting the empty glass on the table. What the fuck am I doing? Soon he heard the buzzing of the communicator, he got a message. Hangar, in thirty minutes, that's all. Sender: Viper.

He went to the hangar on time, she was already waiting for him. She went straight to the the point.

"You're doing wrong. You should regularly bring him to The Chair," she crossed her arms.

"They said that even without the Wipe he has no right to remember, so I don't under-"

"So they said?" she interrupted.

"Well... yes," he replied cautiously, scanning her. Did he miss something? "After all, they brainwashed him three times before applying a virus, there is no possi-"

"They've applied a small doze of extremis before they began the first Wipe," she interrupted him again. Well, fuck, now he was taken aback. He waited until she starts to continue... until she will explain it because he didn't understand. "They couldn't allow Stark to die on The Chair, they had to secure him somehow. So they injected a small portion of extremis and began Wipe three times, exactly. Small gestures, words... may remind him, some portion of memory will come back to him."

"I don't get it," he said after a moment, trying to sort it out.

"You're like a Jon Snow, you know? You know nothing," she sighed leaning back against the cold wall. "If they didn't applied the virus before The Chair, they could damage Stark's brain. In worst case, he would die."

"Jon who? Whatever. What about that memory?"

"You see, without the Wipe he can start to remember some details. For example, you give him a cup of coffee, and he will remember that he liked to drink it in another cup, but do not remember the taste of his favorite drink. He may as well recall favorite coffee, but won't know whether he drank it in a mug or cup. He's able to remember only a part of the memory, but this way he can modify it, and how he'll do it... it's a mystery. Recognize the face of his best friend, but remember a bad moment and may consider him as an enemy, or the other way around. Tony Stark is more shaky and risky than the Winter Soldier."

"Wait a minute... so he'll remember but he won't remember?"

"I know it sounds terribly silly, but more or less... yes. The full memory comes from when he came to HYDRA, but before – everything is in pieces. A puzzles that can't be solved. Wipe pushes the puzzles from Stark."

"Got it. More or less. But still I'm not going to send him to The Chair."

"Do you realize what you want to do?"

"I'll take my chances."

"Well, I warned you."

The next day, Tony passed through the whole test phase. Bloody, with a protruding tibial bone from his leg... he stood straight, over the dead body of the thug. Finally, he succeeded. It took more than half a year... Electricity passed through his body, but he didn't care anymore, he smiled triumphantly. Insane even. He was proud of himself... his Handler will be proud of him. That was the most important, the happiness of his Master.

"Bravo, Mr. Stark. You are ready for your first mission," the man in the white coat said, throwing on floor some papers. Photos, documents. He reached for them with a trembling hand, and began to browse.

"Assassination. Target: Virginia Potts. Location..." he muttered to himself. Who is this? Nevermind. She was his mission, just another step to make his Handler be proud of him. Brock came for him a moment later...

Is anybody there?
Does anybody care
What I'm feeling?
I wanna disappear
So nobody can hear
Me when I'm screamin'

they say pain is an illusion
This is just a bruise
And you are just confused
But I am only human
I could use a hand sometimes
I am only human**