Ghost of You

t h i r t y - o n e

"Are you done napping or should I come back later?"

I stared, for a moment completely stunned by the man in front of me. I shouldn't have been surprised. Part of me had known that he was who they would throw at me next. Still, I felt altogether unprepared for any socialization after however many days had passed since I had seen a familiar face that didn't look at me like I was some sort of deranged criminal. Although I guess that's what I was now. Not deranged, at least not yet. It would probably take many more days isolated in this cell for me to hit that level of crazy. But I could still be labeled a criminal. Enemy of the state. A huge portion of the reason that was true, was because of the man standing in front of me. 

There was something different about him. There were lots of things different about him actually. As far as familiar faces went, this one had many noticeable changes from the last time I had seen it. There were black and blue bruises peppering his skin, along with the occasional cut or scrape. He, like my father, had large dark circles under his eyes and his wrist was wrapped in some sort of brace. Other than his hair, which was still properly gelled, scars of whatever happened to him while I was locked behind these glass walls, the evidence of a battle gone wrong could be seen everywhere, even in the defeated look of his brown eyes. It made him feel slightly less familiar than he should have been. Then again, maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. My opinion of him had changed greatly and now my eyes were trying to manifest that change subconsciously as I assessed his appearance.

Damn, I really have been in here too long. 

I pushed myself up off the floor to lessen the height discrepancy between us. 

"You look great, Tony." I gave him a thumbs up and a satisfied smile. "Tip-top shape."

From the look he was giving me I could tell he thought my smile was genuine. I supposed as far as he was concerned, I still had no idea that he was in any way responsible for the situation I was in. That he thought I might have been grateful to see him, to see the face of someone who was supposed to be my friend.

"It's been a busy week." He shrugged. "Bureaucratic crap, you know. Endless calls, meetings, hosting press conferences-"

"Bugging phones." I added, finishing his list for him.

My tone had been light, but the implication heavy. Tony sighed, apparently burdened by the weight of it. I had thought he might have looked guilty, that maybe his eyes would have appeared crestfallen and his shoulders would have slumped. I had thought that he might have at least had the decency to act embarrassed or ashamed. But he didn't. Instead his arms crossed defensively over his chest and his eyes were staring back into mine, unabashedly, and annoyed. 

"I did what I had to do." He said, coolly.

"That's funny." I chuckled, pulling a page out of James Buchanan Barnes Jr.'s book by mimicking Tony's position and winding my arms together. "I never read anything in the accords about it being mandatory to put trackers in the cell phones of your unconscious friends." 

My gaze continued to meet his unwaveringly as I took two lazy steps towards the glass wall that separated us.

"Was that a new amendment I missed? You'll have to forgive me, you see, I haven't really been able to check any emails lately." I noted, gesturing to the walls around me.

"Bad reception?" Tony deadpanned.

"Two-faced friends." I fired back.

His hand came up, scratching the side of his face in agitation. I watched as he turned from the glass, taking a few steps away from the holding cell and then swiveling back to face me.