Can We Be Fixed? (Stony)

Chapter Four: Tension

A/N: Eventually I'll get writers block, but I don't see that happening too soon, hopefully.

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts

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He never thought that upon arriving here, wherever here was, that he actually would be able to get some sleep. He also didn't expect the collar around his neck to stop sending vigorous amounts of electricity throughout his body. Maybe Tony felt sorry for him- no, there's no way the genius would have stopped the collar out of pity for him. But that still doesn't explain why it suddenly stopped. It didn't really matter at this point, he had other things to think about.

For example, how long would he be staying here? Is he Tony's prisoner now? Realistically he wouldn't put the idea past him, because in a way that's exactly what it felt like; from the small room with the metal door, to the blank white walls and bed he barely fit on, and finishing off with the collar around his neck, he still felt like a prisoner. It was ironically funny- escape from being a prisoner from one place, only to be a prisoner in another place. He sighed heavily and continued to look up at the ceiling, one hand behind his head, the other on his stomach and one leg curled under the other, right below his kneecap.

Would Ross come looking for him? Would he be able to find him, is also the question, since Steve still had zero idea where the hell he was, and it actually was in a way testing his patience. If he's going to be Tony's makeshift prisoner, he could at least tell him where he is so he could have some sense of direction.

Slowly but surely, time moved on and he was starting to get restless. He tossed and turned in various ways, and the small grumbling sound of his stomach was not lost on his super enhanced hearing. Actually, he forgets what a proper meal is since he has had nothing but whatever slop they had tried to give him at the raft.

The door to his room opened, and he sat up abruptly. He remained stoic as he watched Tony walk in, looking anywhere that wasn't at him. His heart lurched inside his chest, aching at the action, because he really wanted tony to look at him; acknowledge him as the person that he is, rather than the criminal persona that he is making him out to be, because by heart he is not a criminal, he's just a man who tried to do the right thing, but ended up being branded a criminal by the other side. The genius coughed, clearing his throat and biting his lip before speaking.

"You hungry?" He asked. Of course Steve was hungry, but he didn't want to voice that thought to the man in front of him. Too many thoughts ran through his head, and how he so desperately wanted to reach out and pull Tony close, wanting to feel his body against his, tell him how sorry he was and that he wishes they could start all over again, that he could make up for what he did. But he didn't say anything, he just sat there, empty blank blue eyes staring at his form.

Tony hesitantly snuck a small glance at him, and it was just for a fraction of a moment, time ceased to stop as Steve got a glimpse at Tony's eyes. He could see the fear nestled into those brown irises of his, and it caused his heart to lurch once more. Tony was scared of him; and why would he not be? He knows that putting his shield in the chest of Tony's suit was about as low as he could go, especially after Tony confided in him about Obadiah and what he did to him, and he vowed to never be like that man. And yet, he went back on his promise and did exactly what he did, only worse.

In an instant, as quick as it came, the fear was replaced by the cold, steel gaze he was first met with. Tony looked away once more, a sigh escaping past his lips, the hand not holding onto the door was slowly forming into a fist, the tension in the air thick, and in Tony's case, suffocating.

"Look if you're not gonna say anything, just know that breakfast is ready." It was then that he wasted no more time and stood up, causing Tony to flinch. He frowned for a second, but he pushed away the fleeting sadness that tried to claw at him, making his way out of the door and into the hallway. He waited for Tony to close the door before the genius started to lead him down the weird curved hallway, familiar steel beams that had just enough space between them for him to see the rays of the afternoon sun beaming down on the great grassy yard outside. And suddenly, it made sense where he was.