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THIS ROUND IS NOW CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS.
ROUND NINE WILL OPEN ON SATURDAY THE 14TH.
ROUND EIGHT
closing at 5000 comments
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He's left naked in the centre of a large empty room with people watching and laughing as he tried to orientate himself, and is regularly beaten. They get a kick out of watching him try to fight back.
It's days, maybe weeks, before he is rescued, but the rscue is made more difficult by the fact that he doesn't know who they are and keeps fighting. Even after the hood is cut off, he's still fighting because he still can't see or hear.
Lots of comfort and angst, and a long recovery please!
Bonus - this is how they find out that he is deaf
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And stayed that way.
His eyes are gooed up and he doesn't know if he should be worried about that. If that means he's more or less likely to be blind. He's not sure if he was close enough to the explosion for that to be a risk. He thinks he remembers being able to see after--someone checking his pulse, someone finding the knocked-loose end of his hearing aid--but it's blurry and fragmented and it might have been a nightmare.
God knows he's dreamed about that often enough ( ... )
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I wasn't really expecting anyone to fill this, and certainly not so quickly. I can't wait for more!
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"We would make terrible parents." Best line! XD
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Also the trigger warning continues to apply.
"Anon": just as you start taking 'edit' for granted.
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Steve is on what Tony's been calling 'Clint watch'. Tony is on what Tony's been calling 'Clint watch', because Tony will not leave, no matter whose turn it is.
"I didn't say there were turns. Clint-watch is my thing, so I get to make the rules," Tony says. He has a second chair pulled up to the workstation, brow furrowed. He's not working on anything just now, but his fingers move restlessly. Steve wonders if he's building something in his mind, or punching imaginary keys.
"Tony, you won't be any use if you're exhausted. I can get you if anything happens." Anything different he means. There's an irregular pattern of people beating the shit out of Clint. Sometimes they leave him alone for hours and hours and sometimes the abuse seems unending. Right now, Clint's just kneeling hunched over, hands bound behind his back. Even in the grainy feed, Steve can see him swaying.
Tony snorts derisively. "He could die while I'm ( ... )
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"Oh, for god's sake," Tony says, like he's unbelieveably exasperated. His face is indented with the shapes of the junk he's slept on. He scrubs at his cheek with one hand.
"Don't, Clint," Bruce says softly, but of course when they try to push food into Clint's mouth he bites them. Same as last time. Steve's glad he still has fight in him, but it's not going to last long if he's starved and keeps antagonizing them.
"You are making it very hard for me to save you," Tony tells the screen, leaning close to it, "Your stupidity is giving my brilliance a good run for it's money, and that's saying something, Barton."
Clint stretches his neck, opens his mouth like he's going to take the food. He even lets his tongue slide out a little, almost obscene. And when the food touches his mouth, he reaches a little further and chomps. Grins huge and feral, blood running down his chin.
Steve is pretty sure he's laughing.
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There's a spark of light, and then a burn that makes him cry out--just surprised, he tells himself, but when it comes again and again, he feels him lips moving and knows he's saying, "Stop, stop."
He can't hear it, so it's not like he's really begging.
He gets the tap that means up, but his head is too heavy for him to lift, much less the rest of his body. Someone carefully gets their hand under his cheek, where it's pressed to the floor, and cradles it. Clint lets them. Feels a sound come out of him when they slide the hood back on ( ... )
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Something pings and Tony jumps up so fast he knocks his chair over and hits Thor with the wheels as it goes end-up.
"A lock! A lock!" he shouts, right into Bruce's face, and goes slamming keys and yelling at JARVIS. "A--a-- coordinates!"
Natasha disappears silently and re-appears suited up. Her face is hard, but a slight smile plays at the corner of her mouth.
Steve looks at her and thinks, someone's going to be very very sorry.
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He can't really breathe in the hood. It's hot and when he pants too hard it seals against his mouth. The strap securing the hood is tight enough around his throat that the combination sends him into panic until the light headedness slows him down and the hood falls away again.
They have a new game, which is to shock him. And it sucks because he can't sense it coming--no vibration of feet on the floor, or movement of air against his skin ( ... )
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Hulk whuffs, sniffing the air, and roars.
"Still not sure how to steer him, actually." Tony says, like Hulk is one of his robots. He flips down his face plate, and his voice goes a little sharp around the edges. A little computery as Steve thinks of it. "JARVIS? Note to self--"
Natasha give him a shove and Tony says, "Okay, okay," and then the suit powers up and he shoots out the back of the plane, to hover in place just out of Hulk's reach, hands and feet glowing. Thor thunders after.
"We'll get him," Steve says to Natasha, whose game face slips for just a second before it's gone and she's every inch the calm professional again. "He'll be okay."
"Oh he had better be okay," Natasha says, but it's not clear who the threat is intended for. SHIELD or Fury, or the denizens of the warehouse Hulk is endeavoring to tear apart, stone by stone.
"There is a door," Tony is saying in his ( ... )
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Natasha is gone, disappeared, mysteriously taking Thor with her, even though Steve wouldn't have thought Thor capable of her flavour of vanishing trick. He touches his comm, even though he doesn't need to--it's still weird not having to push a button or anything--and says, "Widow ( ... )
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