Chapter Text
Chapter 3: The Rogue's Pain - Day 1
Steve Rogers was enraged; the events of the previous hours still fresh in his mind. He couldn't believe Tony would resort to such drastic measures to thwart them. Wanda had been incapacitated; the shock of the counterattack was too much for her system. He sat next to her bedside, watching as she lay unconscious, her face pale, and her breathing shallow. His eyes were red, his emotions a mixture of anger and grief. He had failed his family again, unable to protect the ones he loved. The room was dark, lit only by a small lamp on the table next to the bed. The steady beeping of the machines monitoring Wanda's vitals broke the silence, a constant reminder of her suffering.
"Steve!" He heard Natasha yell. As he turned, he saw her rush in with an orange jumpsuit in her hands.
"Tony. He's gone too far; the only clothes he paid for us is this jumpsuit." She threw the jumpsuit onto the floor and sat down in the chair opposite him.
"What are we going to do, Steve? This is a nightmare," Sam said, entering the room.
"We'll figure it out. We always do," Steve assured them.
"That's easy for you to say, Rogers. You're not the one whose brain was overloaded," Scott pointed out, walking in.
"Don't start, Lang. Tony's just being an asshole," Clint interjected.
"We can't let this go, Cap. Stark is out of control. We need to do something," Scott urged.
"He's right. We can't let him get away with this," Sam agreed.
"So, what, you want us to revolt? Start a riot?" Clint questioned.
"Well, no, but maybe we could, uh..." Scott's voice trailed off, his ideas quickly deflating under the pressure of the group's expectations.
"We can't; it's his house, his rules, and his choice on what he spends money on. He's right about one thing: if we want the luxury, we are going to have to buy it ourselves. We failed; our plan was to use Wanda, but that failed," Clint stated.
"Clint, don't talk like that. We can still win this. We just need a new plan," Steve reassured him.
"Like what? We're not going to beat him. There's nothing to beat; he's in charge now, Steve," Natasha replied.
"Maybe we should have just stayed in Wakanda," Scott sighed.
"Yeah, we probably should have," Clint agreed.
Steve's super hearing caught the sound of the bed rustling, and he looked to see Wanda slowly coming to, her eyes fluttering open.
"Hey, Wanda. How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned.
"My head is killing me. What happened?" Wanda's voice was hoarse, her throat dry and parched.
"Stark happened. He used some kind of device to protect himself from your powers," Natasha answered.
"That effing bastard! He's dead!" Wanda snarled. "He's effing dead, I tell you."
"Wanda, calm down. We'll find a way to fix this. I promise," Steve assured her.
"We have no chance against Stark, not anymore. He's a genius, and he's rich, and he's managed to counter my powers. Our only hope is to escape the compound and flee."
"You're not going anywhere, Maximoff," a voice cut in. They all turned to see Tony Stark standing at the doorway, a grim smile on his face. "You see, I have Friday monitoring you everywhere you go in the compound, and as the one hosting you and making sure you are abiding by the accords, any attempt to flee... well, let's just say I will unleash the Iron Legion on you, and they will have permission to bring you back dead or alive."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Steve demanded.
"It means that the Iron Legion is authorized to use deadly force if necessary to ensure that you don't break the accords. I'm your handler, and I'm responsible for making sure that you comply with the conditions of your pardons," Tony explained.
"So, what, we're prisoners?" Wanda questioned.
"Pretty much. I thought I made it clear to you. You are criminals. T'Challa may have bribed you back into the country, but he has no control over what happens in this compound. I have full control over everything: your gear, your food, your clothing, your training, and everything else. This is my turf. I suggest you play by my rules," Tony asserted.
"This is BS, Tony," Steve spat out.
"Well, Rogers, that's what happens when you mess with a Stark. We don't forgive, we don't forget. You hid my parents' death at the hands of your pet Barnes. You started this war, and you will regret it," Tony sneered.
"I thought you would be over this. But I guess not. You're still the same selfish, arrogant, egotistical man you've always been," Steve retorted.
"Say whatever you want, but anyways it's food time. Better get your butts there before the prison chef I hired hours are done because when that happens, you won't get any free food until tomorrow. And since you haven't done any mission, you have no money, and your money from before has been used to pay for damages that you did to the compound when you broke Maximoff out. So unless you have your own money, better hurry and get the prison slop or no food," Tony said.
"How do you expect us to pay for our food?" Clint asked.
"As I stated before, you get free prison slop, but anything nice you're gonna have to buy and cook yourself. No more living off a billionaire's pocket. Now hurry up; the chef only has two hours to cook. So make the best of it."
With that, Tony turned around and left, leaving the Rogues fuming.
"Steve, this is not going to work. We need to do something. If we don't, we're going to be stuck eating prison slop for the rest of our lives," Natasha said.
"I'm not hungry," Wanda growled, her voice tinged with anger, but her stomach betrayed her as it started grumbling. This was not how she expected everything to go. She didn't even eat because she thought Stark would be groveling at her and the team's feet, taking them out to a luxury restaurant. But no, now they had to fend for themselves, and it was all Stark's fault.
"Wanda, you need to eat. Your body is still recovering from the attack. You need nourishment," Steve urged.
"I'm not going to eat that disgusting prison slop. It's beneath me," Wanda insisted.
"Well, you don't have much of a choice," Natasha pointed out.
"Come on, let's get this over with," Steve sighed, standing up. "I will bring you some, Wanda. Don't worry, just rest."
"I'll stay with her," Sam volunteered.
"Thanks," Steve said as Natasha, Clint, Scott joined him, and they headed down the hallway towards the cafeteria.
"This is BS, Steve," Clint grumbled.
"I know, Clint, but we have to make the best
of it. We can't give Tony the satisfaction of seeing us defeated," Steve replied.
"It's already done. We lost the battle before it even started," Clint retorted.
"We can't give up. We need to find a way to beat him," Natasha urged.
"How? He's got the upper hand, and he's not going to let us win. He's made it clear that he wants to make our lives a living hell," Clint argued.
"We'll figure it out," Steve assured them as they entered the cafeteria.
"You are Steve, am I correct? And Rebecca. I will make you my famous Prison slop. That is what Tony Stark paid for," Rebecca said with an accent.
"It's Steve, and thank you; it looks delicious," Steve said.
"Well, enjoy," Rebecca said, handing them a tray of slop.
"This is disgusting," Clint grimaced, looking at the brown sludge in front of him.
"It's better than nothing," Steve said, taking a bite. "And it's not that bad."
"You're crazy," Clint muttered, taking a small bite. "It's awful."
"Clint, shush, don't make the person in charge of our food hate us," Natasha hushed.
"Whatever," Clint grumbled, taking another bite.
Steve ate the food quickly, eager to get back to Wanda. He knew she was still recovering, and he didn't want her to be alone. He had to get another two trays for Wanda and Sam.
"Thank you, Rebecca," he said as he got two trays for the other two. That's when Bucky came into the cafeteria and was handed a tray.
"Buck," Steve said.
"What the hell is this? This looks disgusting," Bucky complained.
"It's the food they serve to criminals and people in prisons," Clint answered.
"This is BS," Bucky said.
"Excuse me, do you have a problem with my cooking, young man? You are very rude," Rebecca said.
"I didn't mean it like that. It's just that this food looks horrible," Bucky replied.
"I'm sorry, but it's all I have. Unless you have money and can cook yourself a decent meal," Rebecca said.
"We don't," Bucky sighed, sitting down next to Steve.
"Well, then you will have to make do," Rebecca replied, turning back to her cooking. "You should consider yourselves lucky; normally, people who don't have money scavenge or don't eat. You are getting a paid meal."
"Well, she's a ray of sunshine," Bucky quipped.
"She's not wrong. We should be grateful that we're being fed," Steve said, finishing his food. "Come on, let's go. We need to give Wanda and Sam their food."
"This is a nightmare," Clint complained.
"It's not that bad," Steve insisted.
"Whatever," Clint replied, following Steve out of the cafeteria.
Steve, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, and Scott went and dropped off the food for Wanda and Sam.
"Eww, this looks disgusting," Wanda whined.
"It's the best we got," Scott stated.
"I'm not eating it. This is beneath me," Wanda declared, pushing the tray away.
"Wanda, you can't afford to be picky; even I ate it," Natasha said.
"No. I'm not eating this," Wanda refused.
"You have no choice," Sam urged.
"Well, then starve. I'm not eating this prison slop," Wanda snapped. Natasha, realizing Wanda wouldn't listen, decided to manipulate her.
"Then do you want Stark to win? The man you hate the most, to have won by starving the Scarlet Witch to death?" Natasha said.
Wanda hesitated for a moment. "Fine," she huffed, reluctantly taking a bite of the slop.
"Ew, it's flavorless. I need water; it's so dry," Wanda complained.
"Well, then I guess you'll have to drink water," Natasha retorted.
"Whatever. I'm not going to eat this again," Wanda declared.
"You will. If you don't want to starve, this is all we have," Sam stated.
"I hate this; why did Stark have to win? It's all his fault," Wanda growled.
They stayed there ranting for hours when suddenly the doors locked, and the lights went out.
"Friday, what's going on?" Steve asked.
"Boss explained it to you. After 10 pm, lights go off, doors get locked. I'm sorry, but you will have to stand while Ms. Maximoff sleeps until 8 am," Friday answered.
"That's ridiculous," Natasha protested.
"No, it isn't. He warned you, and now you will suffer the consequences," Friday responded.
"You expect us to stand in Wanda's room?" Steve yelled.
"I do not care about you. Just stay where you are and keep quiet," Friday answered, her voice laced with disdain.
"I can't believe this. This is not how I imagined things would be," Scott said.
"Neither did I," Steve sighed. "He wasn't like this before."
"He's making a point," Natasha says. "He's reminding us that we are criminals and trying to say we are nothing without him and that we can't afford to live without his goodwill."
"We need to fight back," Wanda snarled.
"How?" Bucky asked. "How, Wanda? He disabled you, our strongest asset. His suit can take me and Steve, and Hank Pym and Hope Pym are only providing Scott Pym Particles needed to operate the suit on missions. They don't care about us."
"Then we find a way. Stark won't break me," Wanda vowed, a sinister gleam in her eyes. "He will learn to fear and obey me."