Chapter Text
It all starts by sheer coincidence.
Tony is trying to hide from a kill squad that, somehow, has managed to find him –it isn't really like that, he knows, those fuckers had managed to track the reactor’s energy signature, but if he thinks about it he will have to think about searching another way to not die without the reactor, or going back to a car battery, and both are big no-no’s on his book, so it’s better not to think about them for now. Really. So he goes underground, because not even Chitauri technology or human technology enhanced by Loki’s magic or whatfuckingever it is can track such a little energy two floors into the earth.
He has been alone for two months since everything started, since Loki opened that hole on the sky of New York and won the battle. The Avengers had tried to keep fighting, to not let it just happen, but little by little they became apart. Thor was the first to go, knowing that he could win some time for his teammates if he caught Loki’s attention by using his obsession. All the others made it, but Thor never came back. Tony still doesn't know whether the bigger than life Asgardian god has died or is currently in chains somewhere while Loki laughs at him. After that it was Bruce, trying again to save the others from a tight spot and disappearing – and Tony wants to believe what people whisper sometimes, about a big green beast running wild in the mountains. Maybe it's true. Maybe Hulk decided it was safer to never be Banner again and that's the only reason they never came back. He wants to believe it so bad that sometimes he wakes up at night, sure that he has just listened a roar in the distance instead of his own heartbeat drumming in his ears.
After Bruce, everything happened really fast. Natasha looked at them, thin and weary and exhausted from running, and decided that winning was more important that their little group and went her own way in the dead of the night. Tony can't find it in himself to hate her, not when her eyes had been getting more and more full of ice with every day, not when he fell asleep every night hearing her sharpening her knifes. He thinks he understands it now, that urge to win, to have some kind of vengeance no matter what. He understands it now that he has to stop himself from thinking about getting rid of the reactor because it scares him shitless. But if he thinks about it too much he will do it, even if he can't draw a full breath ever again. He knows that his brain has more value that his fighting skills and it would be better to be safe in just one place and creating, making something even without breath, instead of running around like a scared kitten and nothing more. The problem was that they woke up and Natasha and her things were gone. Clint didn't last even a day, saying that he could still find her if he was fast, that he could still help if he was with her. He appeared so broken, his eyes so shiny, that Tony just nodded and grabbed Steve's wrist to stop him of trying to hold Clint back by force. It said a lot that Steve just hung his head and looked at the ground instead of shaking Tony off and keep trying.
Steve was the last one, but this time it was Tony who decided to stay behind, buying time. Because he couldn't let Steve fall, after all. Steve was everything that was good in this world, he had to keep going, had to keep thinking that it was possible and fighting. So Tony stayed in the subway station, hearing the howls of those things that looked like the Chitauri’s version of a dog, only three times bigger and a million times meaner, and after searching for the last of his supplies in his backpack, made a couple of things go boom.
Miraculously, he survived, waking up some hours later in a bubble of air between the rubble. He had some painful scraps made by chips of cement flying around, and was pretty sure that it wasn't actually that silent around him, it was just his ears calling dead time for a while. After almost a day he managed to get out of there, using a hole in the ceiling made after most part of the station collapsed on itself. But there was no trace of Steve. ‘As it should be’ thought Tony later, when his own thoughts didn't echo inside his head until he felt he was going to bleed from his ears.
But even if he had done the right thing, it didn't change the fact that it was fucking difficult to keep going utterly alone. He had let his beard grow, and his hair probably looked like a really ugly bird nest at this point. Food was difficult to come by after Loki instated a food-check system. You didn't work, weren't registered in the census, had glared at somebody with power? Good luck then trying not to starve. Not even all those deaths, all that people dying while trying to protect themselves and how they lived, had allowed for bigger rations of food for those who still breathed. And being on the run, always hiding, wasn't exactly a plus.
Tony was on the search of one of the secrets SHIELD bases when he heard the rumor that there was a Chitauri ship over the trees. He hadn't been able to see it yet, but neither did he need to. He may have been on the run with just a pile of scraps in a backpack, but he still knew his technology, and that low purr belonged to a medium size ship, with probably around 10-15 soldiers, both human and Chitauri. So he started running, trying to find that damned secret door to the underground base that he remembered having read about once upon a time, when his biggest concern was how to make Fury's eye twitch.
And there he is now, crouched in the darkness, breathing with his mouth open to try and not make a sound while the Chitauri “talk” between them four rooms down the hall in those chirping sounds that make his teeth hurt, and wondering how many of them can he take down before his blood is the one pooling in the ground. Six, he thinks. Ten of them if he is lucky and they carry more explosives that can detonate with the first (and only) blast he can make.
Or, more probably, zero, he thinks with dread when, without warning, the lights start humming and come on with a blink. Fuck, that is the reason they haven't started to search the base yet. It looks like the rest of the unit has gone to find and activate the generators. Tony gritts his teeth, tensing and getting ready to jump over the first Chitauri that goes into the room. The room itself looks like a storage room, with containers made out of metal. Sadly, most of them aren't tall enough to be used as coverage to avoid being seen if they take more than just a look.
His thoughts scatter when the sound of heavy feet stomping echoes on the hall. A door slamms open somewhere, closely followed by things falling to the ground, broken. Yes, it definitely isn't going to be a game of hide and seek that much longer. Another door, more noises. Are they going first to opposite rooms, instead of doing one side first and then the other? He can't tell, not with all the echoes resounding over the metal walls. The steps come closer. He crouches low, ready to jump. A chirping sound. Metal against metal. Something scraping on the other side of the door.
Tony doesn't give himself time to think. He jumps even before the door opens, just in time to knock over the first one. It hits its head against the door frame and stays down, and Tony jumps back, using the wall as a shield from the energy blasts. He hides behind one of the crates, ready to try his luck one more time and see if he can get one more by surprise. The room isn't so big that they will risk to jump all in, not when his weapons aren't designed to close range as it is.
As if reading his thoughts, just two of them go in, looking around with their arms ready. They ignore their fallen teammate and go in different directions. Tony closes his eyes for a second, trying to find peace inside himself, or, or something, he doesn't know. It just doesn't look like he is going to get out of there after all. He twists into a ball, and as soon as the closer Chitauri is into range, he jumps to his feet, knocking the spear with his elbow and pouncing forward. The spear shoots and, judging by the screech and sound of broken glass against the ground behind him, it manages to hit the other Chitauri, but Tony is too busy trying to grab hold of the Chitauri armour and make some damage.
It trashes, managing to dislodge Tony, but not before he digs his knees on its gut (a lucky hit). Tony gets up, ignoring the sting on his hands after stopping his fall with them and jumps over the back of the Chitauri before it recovers and straightens. He crosses his arm over its neck and tilts his body backwards, trying to cut its air supply with his weight. Do they even need air to live? Tony remembers that in New York they had fought with some kind of mask at the start, but then, they were aliens, so who knew. Maybe doctor Foster. As it was, he is ready to try everything he can think of instead of just kneeling and diying like a good little slave.
He breathes hard, grunting when the Chitauri tries to crush him against the wall, crashing against it over and over. The chocking hold doesn't seem to be working, specially when the hard metal wall against his back makes it impossible to use his weight. He still has strength in his arms, even after the lack of food and the running, but not nearly enough to do it with just his muscles. His lungs hurt and he kicks his legs, trying to hold on the body under him. There is a sound of broken glass being stepped on on the other side of the room, and where are the others? Have they divided before starting to search the rooms? Is Tony about to die with a nice energy blast mark on his head or something? He cringes, because of both the pain when the Chitauri cuts his arm open with its nails and the thought of never seeing the blast coming. Just the lights going out and goodbye Tony Stark, you tried hard but it wasn't enough.
Then suddenly the Chitauri makes a strange twist, something that should have broken its hip had it been a human. One second Tony is clinging to its back, and the next his head connects with one of the crates.
It doesn't go as in the movies, where everything just goes black. His whole body falls slack and hefeels as if he is floating, not feeling the drop against the ground. There isn't pain, or sounds, and he can swear his eyes are open but things come in flashes. The Chitauri turning around to look at him, his ugly skull-like face distorting even more in some kind of grimace. The Chitauri gone, and a vibration at his left while he looks at the ceiling, unable to even think, with his head feeling like it is full of cotton. Cold filtering into his jacket, caressing his neck. Something black and blurred moving somewhere at his left. His backpack poking at his back, and one of his shoes half dislodged in his struggle. The lights overhead blinking in that way neon light tended to fuck with you. The black thing coming closer, peering at him, so, so tall, Tony wonders if he can screw better the light so it stops blinking. It doesn't let him think.
The black thing moves, its lips moves, and some part deep in Tony's brain thinks Ah, I should probably put attention into that. That looks important. But then he blinks and the thought disappears. He doesn't try to open his eyes again. He is tired, after all, and kind of sleepy, so it is okay. He will just let his mind go for a while. It is probably okay.