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For the longest time possible, I tried to stay in my happiest thought. I found it better than my current situation. 

Unintentionally, I was saved. Through the cell walls, Sam explained that Wanda worked desperately past her pain to remove the rubble and find my body. I was told the fighting stopped entirely to save me, and Rhodey, who was close to dead as well. 

"The impact should have killed you," said Sam, "but by some lucky miracle, it didn't."

"Yeah, because this is better than being dead," I said emotionless.

I was reduced to grey prison wear and stuffed in a tiny cell. They were generous enough to supply each one of us with cots. Sleeping wasn't anywhere in my future. I sat on the floor, squeezing the roots of my hair, scared out of my damn mind. At any waking moment, it was entirely possible the chain stuck on my neck could be turned on, even though I was behaving. The device was similar to having my brain shoved in a blender. I feared it. 

A slow clap from my right caused me to lift my head. It came from Barton's cell. "The futurist, gentlemen!" he shouted sarcastically, "the the futurist is here! He sees all. He knows what's best for you. Whether you like it or not."

"Give me a break, Barton," sighed Tony Stark, though I couldn't see him from my cell's position, "I had no idea they'd put you here."

"No, but you knew they'd put us somewhere, Tony."

"Not some super-max floating ocean pokey, you know, this place is for maniacs, this is for--"

"Criminals?" suggested Barton icily, "Criminals, Tony, I think that's the word you're looking for. That didn't used to mean me, or Sam, or Clara and Wanda. But here we are."

"Because you broke the law. I didn't make you."

"Blah, blah, blah."

"You read it, you broke it. You're all grown up, you've got a wife and kids, I don't understand why you didn't think about them before you chose the wrong side," argued Tony. His footsteps echoed around the cells. 

"Better watch your back with this guy!" tormented Barton, "There's a chance he's gonna break it."

"Hank Pym always said you can't trust a Stark," grumbled Scott.

"Who are you?" wondered Tony flatly.

Scott sighed. "Come on, man."

I watched Tony's shoes enter in front of my cells. I looked at my own slippers. I held no desire to entertain him, nor look at him. 

"Smiles?" he whispered.

"What makes you think it's okay to call me that?" I snapped against my will. 

"I deserve that."

"Creating this... I can't believe..." I breathed, "You're no better than our foes, pulling a move like this."

"I deserve that, too. Look, Clara, I'm not here to argue. I'm here to confess. I have guilt. For what I've done, for who I've done wrong. For who I killed. Directly or indirectly. And I know you do, too, Clara. I know after the general relief of saving the world, you realized that maybe we hadn't at all."

I shook my head. "Go ahead and target my emotions, Stark, it isn't going to work. You've left me with nothing but fear."

"A mere thought takes you to a location, yeah?" he continued, after a deep sigh, "A thought from your head, takes you traveling through cities, different time zones--"

"Cut to the chase," interrupted Sam. 

"It's not like you all don't have time," said Stark, "Do you wish you could take back what happened in D.C.? In Sokovia?"

"You know that I do."

"What's stopping you?"

"Well, clearly, I can't go back in--" I stopped. At last, I brought my narrowed eyes to meet his tired ones. "They think I'm capable of going back in time. Wow. They're more delusional than I thought."

"They believe you can," said Tony.

"Even if I could, I'm not about to. I wouldn't try. Especially not for them."

"And if he died?"

"Is that a threat?" I snapped. 

"You wouldn't save... Ah... What was the speedster's name?"

"Pietro," I said through my teeth. 

Tony leaned his shoulder on the glass door. His eyes told a different story than his attitude. He wanted me to look at him. He wanted me to see the apologetic feel evident in his eyes. Tony needed me to know that it was an act.

"You're sick," I said.

Tony didn't know if I was playing along or not. To him, it didn't matter, so long as I knew our conversation was nothing close to what he could say, if he wasn't being watched. He stood straight once more. His hand tapped the glass excitedly, playing into their act. 

"Sooner or later, you're going to realize your potential. What we see in you. There's wide belief that you have a gift, Clara. You've proven you can reach locations. Who's to say time isn't apart of that?" asked Tony. For the first time through the entire conversation, his tone was soft. "Who's to say you can't be the one to fix this?"

He approached Sam's cell. 

"How's Rhodes?" asked Sam. 

"Well, they're flying him to Columbia medical tomorrow, so fingers crossed," said Tony. "What do you need? They feed you yet?"

"You're the good cop now?"

"I'm just the guy who needs to know where Steve went."

"You better go get a bad cop because you're gonna have to go Mark Fuhrman on my ass to get information out of me."

As Sam spoke, Tony fiddled with his watch. "Well, I just knocked the 'A' out of their AV. They've got about thirty seconds before they realize its not their equipment."

"Stark," I said pointedly. I feared for an interrogation following his visit, to find out exactly what he said while they struggled to fix their audio. 

Tony showed Sam his watch. "Just look, 'cause that's the fella whoa supposed to interrogate Barnes. Clearly, I made a mistake. I was wrong."

"That's a first," said Sam. 

"Cap's definitely off the reservation, but he's about to need all the help he can get. We don't know each other very well, you don't have to--"

"Look, I'll tell you. Just... You have to go alone and as a friend."

"Easy."

Sam spoke fast, divulging into the secret whereabouts of Steve and Bucky. He told a brief explanation about the five awaiting Winter Soldier's. 

Tony, playing into a part, worked hard to look angered by what Sam said. With a shake of his head, he started to return to the exit. 

"Stark," I said loudly. 

Tony stopped in front of my cell. 

"General Ross. He's the one who suggested the time travel idea, isn't he?"

"They're desperate to fix this," said Tony quietly, "Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I'm supposed to be in here to see if you really can't do it. Boys, start yelling... Now."

Barton, Sam, and Scott didn't need another reminder. Banging on their cell doors, screaming their frustrations at Tony, they created enough noise to distract anyone listening in from hearing the rest of Tony's conversation with me. 

"It's been disabled since I walked through that door," he continued, "you need to leave. Immediately. I'll stall for as long as I can."

"I won't leave them behind," I argued. 

"That's not the kind of leaving I'm talking about, Smiles."

In Your Eyes // Steve RogersWhere stories live. Discover now