Irondad Oneshots

scared is what you're feeling, brave is what you're doing

{An idea of a Room AU}

Tony meets the eyes of his reflection in the dirty, cracked mirror. He would've asked for a new one for his Sunday Gift, but his priorities ended up lying in warmer clothing for the colder weather. It's going to be a long time before he allows himself to ask for something as vain as a mirror.

The bags under his eyes are deeper than ever, tired and worn-out from the constant nightmares and his paranoia keeping him from sleeping. He would've thought, after so long, the fear would've faded with the routine and the hopelessness, but it's still there. Raging just as pathetically as ever.

His skin is oily and gaunt from the lack of sunlight. He can't remember the last time he saw the sun beyond the little skylight in the Room. Though he's not sure if he'd call it a skylight if all he can see is water beyond it.

Two years.

He'd been taken two years ago.

And he's still here, wrestling with himself to stay alive.

It would be too easy to just let go.

He pushes himself away from the sink, making his way to the 'kitchen'. In his old penthouse, his kitchen was bigger than the whole Room. Now, his kitchen was one counter, a microwave, an oven, a mini-fridge, and one drawer with plastic cutlery.

Opening his fridge, he's painfully reminded of what day of the week it is. Sunday. Sunday is Delivery Day. Ross shows up to give him groceries, toiletries, other necessities, and he's allowed to request one thing for his Sunday Gift. Last week, he requested a sweater that he's supposed to get tonight.

He makes a mental note to ask for some cleaning supplies tonight when Ross comes for his kitchen and bathroom.

The idea of stomaching food doesn't sit well, so he closes the fridge door and heads back to his bed, not particularly caring about the things he should be doing. Like working out, having something to eat, cleaning the place up, getting his laundry ready for washings tomorrow, and a million other things.

Instead, he curls up beneath his blankets, and thinks about Rhodey and Pepper and Happy and whoever else might be thinking about him.

He knows he deserves this. He was never good to them. He drank too much, slept too little, and closed himself off from the people who tried to be his family.

Either way, if he ever gets out of this place, the first thing he'll do is apologize to them.

*

Evening falls before he knows it, only recognizable from the beeps of his watch five minutes before the door will open. Wherever Room is, outside the window isn't very bright. It looks like they're underwater, somewhere not too far from the surface because the sun still filters through the water occasionally.

He drags himself out of bed, limbs numb and fumbling as he stands.

The door opens, revealing Ross's bodyguard first, a tall, broad-shouldered man who Tony never learned his name. Ross follows in shortly after. The only two people Tony have been in contact with for the past two years.

"Hello, Tony. How are you today?" Ross asks casually. He's holding a bundle of navy-blue fabric in his arms that Tony figures is the sweater he asked for.

"Cut the bullshit," Tony mutters, taking the grocery bags off the bodyguard. There was a time he might've fought Ross or the bodyguard. There was a time he would've tried to run or see beyond the open door. But that was the Old Tony. The New Tony's learnt his lessons. There's no point in trying.