Tony shivered.

Because, of course kidnapping him and keeping him hostage wasn't enough, so they also decided to have their hideout in the middle of a mountain range or something in December.

Also, dungeon. Dungeon. Seriously, they weren't known for being warm and cozy.

He took stock of the rest of his body, besides the being cold bit. Skin, yup, chilly. Underneath... nothing felt broken, and he'd had enough broken bones in his lifetime to be able to recognize when something was broken.

So he was thankful for that.

Various aches and bruises that would probably become apparent as time went on. Small scratches and abrasions, probably from being carted to wherever the hell he was.

And last... the headache. It was beyond a hungover sort of headache, and past the usually drugged headache, and god it was bad that he could classify his headaches like that. But it wasn't quite to a bleeding in the brain headache, which was something to be grateful for.

Probably.

So in between those pain levels meant likely concussion.

Tony was pretty sure he should have a stamp card for concussions. After ten he'd get a pony or something.

Eh, he could just buy himself a pony if he really wanted to. That was one of the issues with being rich. He had everything that he could want, and if he didn't, he could buy it.

What was he thinking about?

Right. Concussion, definitely.

He was distracted from his train of thought by a door opening, and he could have kicked himself for not realizing there was a door, and of course there was a door, idiot, but he did have a concussion, and frankly, that was being a little harsh on himself, even for you know, himself.

With the door opening, the room was flooded with light, and Tony winced. The light certainly didn't help his headache. He hid the pain, because he was not giving whoever this was even more satisfaction. He sat up a little straighter and faced the figure that entered.

"Hello Tony. Can I call you Tony? You'd always insist that it was Tony, not Anthony, but I don't know if you've changed your mind or not since then."

Tony squinted. The man, definitely a man, was backlit, and Tony couldn't make out any of his facial features. The voice was... possibly familiar? Tony had met so many people in his lifetime, and so many of them would hate him, but not that many would have knowledge of his childhood, or be persistent and intelligent enough to actually carry out a kidnapping.

In fact, when he was growing up, there was only one person who was anywhere near Tony in personality or intelligence.

And fuck, because if that wasn't the answer, Tony didn't know what was.

"Tiberius Stone," he whispered, his heart sinking. He wanted to be sick. Stone moved more into the light so Tony could see him better, and yes, it was him. Older than Tony remembered of course, and the years hadn't exactly been kind to him, but hell, Tony wasn't one to talk.

He'd gone to school with Ty, grown up with him. He was one of the closest things he had to a friend when he was young, by virtue of Ty being nearly on the same intellectual plane as him. Their fathers were heated business rivals until Howard finally drove Ty's dad out of business. Was that was this was about? Revenge? But Howard was dead, and had been for pretty much forever, and there wasn't much remorse from Tony there.

"I thought you were in Europe," Tony muttered.

Ty shrugged. "We still are."

Tony didn't react, but filed that bit of information away.

He shuffled himself along the floor instead, to lean against the wall.

"Well Ty," he sighed. "I suppose you didn't just pick me up so we could catch up on old times. I mean, if you did, it's a bit of an overkill." He rattled the chains to make his point.

Ty grinned, and it was frightening, like a shark.

Tony suddenly felt like Marlin and Dory.

"No," he agreed pleasantly. "I mean, we can catch up, but I had some other activities planned for you. Well, not really activities, but I sort of do plan to keep you for, well, ever." he shrugged. "Revenge I guess. For what your father did to my father."

Tony laughed, and it was harsh in his throat and the cold air.

"Ty, I don't know if you remember this or not, but me and dad? Didn't get along so great. In fact, we kind of had a mutual hatred of each other." He paused. "Might be a bit too strong of a word. But needless to say, we weren't close. I hated him pretty much up until the moment he died, and after that... well, I didn't forget what he'd done, but it's not really popular to speak ill of the dead." Tony shrugged, then hid his grimace, because ouch. "So we just didn't talk about him."

Ty shrugged. "Yeah, I did know that. But it's not like it matters. You're still his son after all. It's the closest I can get to punishing him for what he did. Your father destroyed my family. He ruined my life. I had no future after our company went down."

Tony sighed. "That was forever ago. Any chance I can convince you to forgive and forget?"

Ty made a tutting noise. "Oh Tony. Just because you grew a conscience and decided to make love and not war doesn't mean that anyone else did."

Tony scowled.

"I am going to break you, Tony Stark. You think you've known pain before? I guarantee that it will be nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you. I know all about you, I know about your team, your history, Afghanistan. I am going to break you, and then after all that, I will dump you back home with your precious Avengers so they can see you take your last breaths."

He grinned. "And I'm going to love it."

He sauntered back to the door, which was when Tony, god he was such an idiot, noticed the window.

He could only blame so much on the concussion, because the room on the other side of the window was bright, and with the light, he could more clearly visualize his own cell, but that wasn't what caught his attention.

No, it was the man in the other room, the one he immediately recognized, that caught his attention.

"Oh god," he breathed. "Clint."

He glared at the Stone. "Why the hell did you take Clint."

"There's no one there Tony," he said, frowning. "Why would I want anyone else but you?"

Tony's conviction wavered slightly.

"He's there. I can see him. Don't lie to me!"

Ty shrugged. "So prove it. I'm telling you there is no one there. You really want to argue with me? I'm pretty sure out of the two of us, I'm the one who's not concussed."

Tony glared at him for a moment before looking away.

He turned his attention back to the mirror, which had to be a two way, dark on his side, light on the other, so Clint couldn't see him.

Well, that was fine. He didn't need to see Tony to know he was there.

"Clint!" he bellowed, cupping his hands around his mouth.

The man on the other side of the glass didn't so much as flinch.

Something in Tony's stomach sank. He clambered to his feet.

"Clint!" he called again, stepping forward. He didn't get far, his feet disappearing from under him and his right elbow cracking painfully against the cold cement floor.

"Fuck," he hissed, noticing for the first time the shackles around his ankles.

He traced them back to their origin, which appeared to be... the cement. The cement was poured around the chains, leaving nothing for Tony to pull at, pull apart, make use of.

He grudgingly admitted it was clever.

He whipped his head around to glare at Stone.

"What, you don't want me banging on the glass? Afraid I might break it and hurt myself? Alert Clint to my presence?"

Stone just shook his head, maybe a bit sadly.

"There's no one there Tony," he repeated, and with that, left, locking the cell door behind him.

Seriously. Who used cells anymore?

Tony shivered again, the motion sending shockwaves of pain through his elbow and knees.

Fuck it was cold.

He glanced up at Clint again. Surely he was there? Tony wasn't just seeing things. He'd done that before. But this seemed... different. Real.

Of course, the other hallucinations had seemed just as real until afterwards.

Yeah, he was probably concussed.