better than your dreams//tony stark

♡twenty three♡

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies."

Aristotle

Tony and I fly over a stormy sea in the chopper. We look at surveillance images on a tablet computer.

"The Task Force called for a psychiatrist as soon as Barnes was captured. The UN dispatched Dr. Theo Broussard from Geneva within the hour. He was met by this man," FRIDAY tells Tony.

"Did you run facial recognition yet?" Tony asks.

"What do I look like?" FRIDAY asks.

"Uh, I don't know. I've been picturing a red head," Tony remarks.

I give him a look.

"You must be thinking of someone else," FRIDAY states.

"Must be," Tony says.

"The fake doctor is actually Colonel Helmut Zemo, Sokovian Intelligence," FRIDAY states. Tony projects the image. "Zemo ran Echo Skorpion, a Sokovian covert kill squad."

"So, what happened to the real Broussard?" I ask.

"He was found dead in a Berlin hotel room. Where police also found a wig and facial prosthesis approximating the appearance of one James Buchanan Barnes," FRIDAY tells us.

"Son of a bitch. Get this to Ross," Tony orders.

"Yes, Boss," FRIDAY states.

Tony flies the chopper low over the bubbling sea.

"This is the Raft Prison Control. You're clear for landing, Mr. Stark," a guard tells him over the radio.

The sea swells and surges as Raft Prison rises up from beneath. A huge, fortified, circular structure with small lights around the sides. Two semi-circular doors open up in the flat circular top. The chopper lands on a helipad and the doors close above it.

Tony and I walk up to Secretary Ross.

"So? You got the files? Let's reroute the satellites, start facial scanning for this Zemo guy," Tony states.

"You seriously think I'm gonna listen to you after that fiasco in Leipzig? You're lucky you're not in one of these cells. Both of you," Secretary Ross warns.

Ross looks at Tony and I sternly and leads us through a thick, steel security door. Soldiers stand guard in an operations room. I look at a surveillance screen. It shows Wanda, sitting hunched in a cramped prison cell.

Another security door opens. Tony and I walk into a chamber surrounded by large, barred windows. Beyond the windows are a number of prison cells. I look around taking in my surroundings.

Barton starts clapping. "The Futurist, gentlemen! 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. I had no idea they'd put you here. Come on," Tony states.

Barton spits. "Yeah, well, you knew they'd put us somewhere, Tony."

"Yeah, but not some super-max floating ocean pokey. You know, this place is for maniacs. This is a place for..." Tony starts.

Barton cuts him off, "Criminals?" He stands up. "Criminals, Tony. Think that's the word you're looking for." He eyes Tony and I through the bars. "Right? That didn't used to mean me. Or Sam, or Wanda. But here we are."

"Because you broke the law," Tony argues.

"Yeah," Clint says.

"I didn't make you," Tony states.