It stunk.

Like crap. Actually, much, much worse than crap. More like himself after locking himself up to work on a project in his lab. For all his genius, it was too much for Tony Stark to take the time to install a bathroom and shower in his lab.

His thoughts stilled. His lab. That was the last place he remembered he was. In his lab working on a device that would help harness the Earth's magnetic fields when . . . when . . . he frowned. Crap. He couldn't remember what happened after.

The more his brain was waking up, the more it hurt. Tony made a move to grasp it in his hands – only to find that they were tethered behind his back. As soon as his fogged mind (whoever kidnapped him must have drugged him or something) registered that he was tied up, it went into overload. He started thrashing in his bindings, not actually thinking, just acting on a thought – memory – that was running through his mind: Afghanistan, in that cave with Yensin, hooked up to that car battery. Thankfully, this time, he could feel the steady warm heat that the arc reactor flowed into his blood stream, warming up his body, even if it was only a degree or two.

Ever since his encounter with the Ten Rings, being captured was something of a major fear for him. He hated anything to do with it: being tied up, caves, missing his arc reactor, shouting in foreign languages, and water. Especially water. It was something that made him wake up in the middle of the night, screaming from a nightmare and drenched in his own sweat. Being soaked to the bone really didn't help when the nightmares are about water. It always takes JARVIS a few doses of tranquilizer to calm him down enough so that his heart didn't go into cardiac arrest.

But here, where he was, was no nightmare. It was absolutely, terrifyingly real. The more he struggled, the more his body hurt. And the more his body hurt the deeper into panic he unwillingly dove into. After what felt like hours but was, in reality, only a few moments, he felt something get shot into his system and his frayed nerves and panicked sense of self seemed to be reduced drastically. Tony stilled and sat on the hard wooden chair he was bound to with his head hung low to his chest. Someone grabbed his hair and yanked his head up, but he still couldn't see anything due to the bright light shining in his eyes.

"Good, you're awake. I was hoping my men didn't do any permanent damage to that priceless mind of yours, Mister Stark." The hand released him roughly the man behind him stepped away, although the light remained.

Tony groaned, shaking his head slowly so he didn't jostle his brain too much. The light became too much for him and he screwed his eyes shut, welcoming the comfort of darkness that soothed his headache somewhat. He heard the man speak again but it was in a different language, one that he didn't recognize. Tony slowed his breathing down and tried to focus on his surroundings as much as he could with senses other than his eyes, ignoring the unknown words that filled the air and made him shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.

It was freezing, so cold he'd probably be able to see his breath if he could open his eyes without sharp stabs of pain shooting through his skull. His shirt was missing and his sweatpants were ragged and ripped up, obviously from mistreatment. His shoes and socks were also missing, leaving his feet to freeze against the ice-cold concrete. Already, he could feel the tips of his extremities going slightly numb with the temperature. If something wasn't done, he was worried he'd lose his fingers.

Other than that awful stink, he could tell nothing else about the room and the red against his eyelids told him that it wouldn't be fun to open his eyes now. So he evaluated himself for injuries. A splitting headache, possibly a sprained ankle, bruises everywhere, and a few loose teeth were the extent of the damage that he could tell. With his captors still not talking to him, he struggled to remember what happened before he was kidnapped.

It wasn't very pleasant, that much he remembered, but it might let him know where his Avenger teammates were. He thought hard to remember and, bit by bit, it slowly started to come back and as it did, the more Tony had to fight to control himself.

*~* Flashback *~*

"Screwdriver."

He only twisted it a few times before he tossed it aside and held out his hand again. "Blowtorch."

Dummy, being the dysfunctional robot it was, handed him a wrench instead. Tony, too focused on his work, didn't realize that he held the wrong tool in his hand until he was holding it above the twisted piece of metal that he needed to shape into a cone. With an annoyed grunt, he threw the wrench somewhere on his workshop and left to go find the blowtorch himself. When he couldn't find it, after searching for almost three minutes, he turned around with an angry huff.

Only to see that Dummy was holding the blowtorch in its robotic appendage. It beeped and whirled happily, pleased that it was able to help its master for once.

Tony muttered something unintelligible – something about, ". . . donating you to a university for the students to dismantle you and put you back together again." – when Steve's voice sounded over the intercom. The pitch and tone was the same, but something about it still didn't sound right to Tony. It was colder, harder, sharper than he had ever heard him speak before to a teammate.

"Stark, get to the living room right now. I need to talk to you."

Tony glared at nothing. He was working on something extremely important and had no time for a chit-chat with one of his least favorite teammates. Clint, out of sheer annoying-ness, was a close second to Steve Rogers, the epitome of goodness. Tony was completely prepared to ignore the Captain and had sat down at his desk to continue working when all of his systems shut down. JARVIS's voice sounded out in the now very quiet room.

"Sir, I would listen to what the Captain has to say. It shouldn't take long."

Now the man was suspicious. The AI hadn't done that before, certainly hadn't tried to separate him from his work unless it was for his or someone else's health and safety. He was sure it wasn't either of those. He had just started a few days ago, but was interacting with people, eating, sleeping – nothing that would cause anyone any alarm. And it knows that he dislikes Steve, not hate, but he wouldn't take time out of his work just to talk to him.

"JARVIS, is there something you're not telling me?" Tony questioned, staring intently at his half-finished device, waiting for the AI to answer.

There was a long pause, so long that Tony wasn't sure the AI registered what he said. "The Captain is waiting, sir."

He sighed through his nose. It wasn't like JARVIS to skim around a question like that, at least not to him, so his only assumption was that one of his teammates or SHIELD had ordered JARVIS to send him up but not tell him what it was about, so it must be importiant. With a quiet grumble, he got up and, leaving everything where it was on his desk, left to see what Captain America wanted to talk to him about.\

When he entered his living room, he was surprised to see the lights dimmed and one man, Steve, standing in the middle of the room with his hands behind his back, glaring at him. Tony gave him a sour look, "What? Unless you didn't notice, I'm very busy at the moment."

It surprised him that Steve didn't take the bait, only continued to glare at him in a way that he didn't know the Cap could glare. "Mister Stark," he began coldly, "it has come to SHIELD's attention that you have become incompetent and we are asking you to leave the Avengers."

Tony held up a finger in the universal 'hang on a minute' sign, before taking his other pinkie and sticking it in his ear, cleaning it out before leaning towards Steve a bit, "I'm sorry, what? I don't think I heard you right. Are you firing me?"

Steve's expression didn't change, annoying and concerning Tony. He wouldn't ever let anyone know, but he was worried that he had something wrong to cause such a reaction in the normally relaxed man, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of anything.

"Look, if this is revenge for showing you that video on YouTube, I'm sorry, okay? Just lighten up, man. Geez." He made a move to pat Steve on the shoulder, but in a quick flurry of movements that he couldn't even see – see didn't know how Cap could move that fast – his hand and forearm was grabbed and held in a vice-like grip, painful.

Startled, Tony jerked his head up to see the Captain glaring at him with venom in his dark eyes, "Don't ever touch me, you vile piece of scum," he snarled, "or, so help me God, I'll rip your arm from your shoulder." With a cold shiver of dread, he realized with the grip Steve had him in, it would take nothing more than a quick jerk and his arm would snap easily.

"Now go get your important stuff and get lost, Stark," Steve spat before shoving him back. Tony stumbled before gaining back his balance, looking up to see that Steve was already gone. Tony had no idea what happened. Fired? Was that even possible for an Avenger? Didn't they realize how stupid a decision that was? They needed him, SHIELD needed his funding, the Avengers needed his expertise in science and mechanics, the world needed Iron Man. And what had he done wrong? Besides pull a few pranks on his fellow teammates and a couple agents, nothing major came to mind. It made no sense.

He made a mental note to call his friend, Bruce Banner, and ask him about it later. He would tell him for sure. Tony was entering the security code into his door to enter his lab when something hard and heavy hit the back of his head. He fell to the ground, stars bursting within his line of vision. His dizziness hindered his vision, but he thought he saw a man standing over him before something his his head again and he passed out.

*~* END Flashback*~*

Tony felt like the breath had been forced from his lungs. Now he remembered what happened, but he still didn't believe it. Would they really do something like that, his teammates?

Ex-teammates, he corrected himself bitterly, his heart closing itself off again from such pleasures as friendship and trust. He should have known that this would happen. It was only a matter of time before life decided to be a bitch and take away some of the best things that had happened to him in years. It took everything in him not to yell in fury.

But there was no time for that now, because that man, the one who had grabbed his hair, was turning to him, talking to him with a wicked scowl on his Arabic-looking face. Tony's heart sped up in instinct fear at the sight of a face that could belong to the same ones from Afghanistan.

"It seems that we've run into a little problem," the man began, having a thick Arabic accent. "When we left your tower with you, my men were breaking into your lab to . . . borrow a little device that you're working on. I believe it's original purpose was to help amplify the Earth's electromagnetic field, perhaps to be used as a 'wireless' charging method, right? Unfortunately, the men there are idiots and basically, are locked outside your lab. Your AI system has locked them out. Now," he leaned forward, placing his hands on the arms of the chair, fact-to-face with Tony, "unless you give us that code to unlock the door and let them out with the device, I can assure you that it will not be pleasant for you. Comply; tell me the security code."

Tony scowled right back in his face. That electromagnetism device was going to change the world, something that would revolutionize the field of . . . well, everything. If he could harness the power of the electromagnetic field around the Earth, then there would be no need for batteries or charging. People could simply tune into the Earth to power their devices.

And he'd never have to worry about his Iron Man suit being depleted. If his arc reactor was running low, then he could switch to power from the electromagnetic field and he'd be able to run the suit forever. It was life-changing.

And there was no way in hell he'd let a man like that anywhere near that technology. Who knows what he would do with it. How had he even known about it? He kept all of his important projects hidden on his personal server. No one except him had access to it.

Tony gave him a mocking look and raised an eyebrow that conveyed without words 'what-are-you-stupid-or-something-go-to-hell'. The man, understanding his look, narrowed his eyes and snapped at someone behind him in a different language, which Tony now guessed was a dialect from somewhere in the Middle East. But he didn't have any time to think about it because there was a shadow from behind dwarfing him and a wire wrapping around his throat tightly, cutting off his airway.

The pressure was immense, it felt as if the man tightened the wire even a fraction of a pound, it would slice clean through his neck like a well-cooked steak. He tried to keep calm – he really did – but within a few moments of trying to tough it out he began to struggle. Lack of air was starting to color the edges of his vision, creeping up closer and darkening more and more. Now he really started to panic, opening his mouth to try to get at least some air into his lungs. Just when he thought he was about to pass out, the man released the wire from his neck and he could breathe again, sucking in huge gulps of air.

The man smirked slightly, "Just give us the codes, Stark."

Not having the air to answer, Tony shook his head. The man clicked his tongue and made a motion. Before he even knew what was happening, three large, massively buff men appeared and gave him the beating of his life. The punched him as hard as they could – their rings hurt like a motherfucker – and then threw him, chair and all, onto the floor and began kicking him with their heavy, steel-toed boots. It probably only lasted a few minutes, but to the billionaire, it was forever and a half before they stopped and righted him back up in his chair.

The list of injuries that he had composed earlier had nearly tripled in size, if he had to guess. Several broken ribs, broken arm and leg bones, harsh bruises, bloody gashes covering his body, and simply his entire body being one big pain. There wasn't something that didn't hurt.

"Smile for the camera." Tony glanced up deliriously when he saw the bright flash of a photo being taken and the man – the leader, most likely – leaving the room with a smirk on his face. Tony passed out before the door had slammed shut.

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Clint hadn't been living in the Stark Tower for very long, but he already knew where everything was. It was one of the perks of being trained to be a spy/assassin. Currently, he was searching for Tony. The computer he had been using suddenly crashed and while it would be easy to simply go to another computer, he knew Stark didn't like anything not working and wanted him to fix it as soon as possible. He was about to head down to his lab when Natasha, seemingly on her way to the conference room, paused to glance at him curiously.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Trying to find Stark so he can fix this stupid piece of junk," he shook the laptop for emphasis.

Natasha gave him an odd look, "Didn't you hear Fury? About five minutes ago?" When he shook his head, she took the liberty to explain, "He's called all of us to a meeting, so you'll see Stark there. But Fury sounded pissed – beyond pissed, actually, so I don't really want to keep him waiting."

"Any idea why he's so mad?" The archer asked, falling in step to his long-time partner as they walked down the long hallway.

"Not a clue. Everything's been so quiet recently. It's actually been worrying me, the calmness. It's like the calm before the storm, you know?"

"Yeah, I've been feeling it, too. Hopefully, we'll have a mission now." The assassins walked into what was probably the most tension filled room they had been in. Fury was standing at the head of the table, living up to his name with a vengeance. Steve, Thor, and Bruce were there, too, looking worried and expectant at the same time. They didn't know what was going on either. But there was one person missing: Tony.

Surprisingly, the Director didn't wait for Tony. But after his first sentence, it was made clear, "Tony's been kidnapped and we don't know where he is."

Everyone responded differently to the news. Natasha gasped and stood completely still with eyes widening slightly. Bruce instantly tensed and it was obvious that the 'Other Guy' didn't take well to that. Steve looked shocked and outraged at the same time and Clint was just pissed off. Thor's normally friendly face turned dark in fury and faint crack of thunder from outside was heard. Steve was the first to recover his voice, "What happened?"

Fury explained, "We aren't sure how he was kidnapped, but it has something to do with the device he was building. It somehow utilized the Earth's electromagnetic field, like a mobile charging station. This could revolutionize the world and I'm guessing that the people who took Tony also know this. They're probably trying to get information out of him."

He was about to say more when a terrified looking agent walked in, "S-Sir, this was just sent to us by an untraceable source." He laid the picture on the table and got out of there as quickly as he could.

It was a picture of Tony, sitting bound in a chair. His hair was matted and dark with blood and it was almost everywhere on him. Numerous small cuts were seen all over his body, but the dark bruises already forming were visible. A thin red line across his throat was proof of the wire that had choked him earlier. His expression would look livelier on a dead man, but they all noticed and were grateful for the fact that the arc reactor was still glowing brightly and in his chest where it should be.

Bruce lunged out of his chair and began pacing, eyes a vivid green as his hands fisted tightly. Natasha and Clint both school their expressions until there was none showing on either of their faces, but both of them were feeling the anger deep in their hearts. Thor took Mjolnir and crushed the chair next to him to nothing but a pile of trash. Steve, being one of the more emotional Avengers, took it the hardest. He felt fury build within him, but also disappointment with himself for not seeing something earlier and maybe preventing this from happening. Not knowing it, but that same thought was running through everyone's minds.

Fury glared at the picture. It was embarrassing, that he couldn't keep track of his most valuable agents and his main team. Now one of them was injured and hidden away somewhere – God knows where – and there wasn't even a demand for money or something from his kidnappers. Just a note and a frantic JARVIS telling him that a group of men had – somehow – overridden the AI and implanted a fake one for a total of one minute. Then the real JARVIS virtually ripped the fake system to shreds. There wasn't even a byte left of the imposter.

Just when Fury had nothing more to say to the remaining Avengers, another agent came in and whispered something in his ear. The others all quieted down to listen to what they were saying to each other but the agent left quickly, leaving the Director standing there with fresh anger on his face.

When he didn't say anything, Clint prodded, "Hey, what was that? Does it have to do with Tony?"

Fury looked up at all of them, "Come on, all of you. The man who kidnapped Stark is on video-conference now and wants to strike a deal with us for Stark's life."

Within seconds, the room was completely empty.

Well, what do you think? I plan on making this a long-ish term story, with a definite plot that will become more defined along the way. But the only way for me to keep writing and updating is for reviews. So if I get no feedback, then I don't post anything. Sound fair?

How about a goal of 5 reviews, huh? I like that goal (feel free to go over that goal).

Thank you all for reading! Stay tuned!