Warnings for: implied/referenced torture, onscreen torture (the torture is not overly graphic and is mainly vague. There is a bit of torture described, though. There's nothing sexual, though, and nothing over a PG-13 rating.)

If you want to skip the torture, it's in sections 4-8. Some important stuff happens in those sections, though, so it's basically whatever you want to do.

Reading the first story in this series (Underdogs and Unexpected Heroes, which can be found on my profile) is highly recommended if you want to know what's going on.

It starts with a mission, as it always, inevitably, does.

It's a regular mission, deep-cover, yes, but Mac's handled this type of mission before. He relishes it, even, the thrill that comes with taking on a new persona, of crafting a new person, of becoming someone else and knowing that you must keep that cover at all costs. It's a challenge that surpasses most others.

Then, two days in, something happens. It's small, negligible, a complete fluke. It turns out that one of the scientists now working for the compound Mac was sent to infiltrate used to work for the DXS. She switched sides because she felt she wasn't being paid enough, and when she saw MacGyver-

Well.

Things go south rather quickly.

The young agent talks with the other members of the task force he's been assigned to. So far, his cover has held up amazingly. He's pretending to be a young army vet that came home from overseas and found himself floundering for a job, willing to take whatever came his way. MacGyver- or Hart, rather, as his cover is known as- was offered a job by Berun, the small corporation that serves as a shell company for a cell of scientists that develop weapons for the highest bidder.

(In four months, when three helicarriers go down over D.C., it'll be found that Berun was manufacturing weapons for Hydra, but that's irrelevant at the moment.)

MacGyver's laughing at a joke when he sees her. Red hair, pale face, striking green eyes- she's beautiful, in the way that makes one fear for their life. Unfortunately, she recognizes him. Pointing one slim finger, Lucy shouts, "He's government!"

In an operation such as Berun, no accusation is too small, ridiculous, or unimportant to ignore. The rest of the task force instantly turns on him, shoving him to his knees and roughly cuffing his hands behind him. The leader of the group grabs the electric rod that they're all equipped with and thumbs the 'on' switch, bringing to life. Its buzzing fills MacGyver's ears as the prod comes close to him and is thrust against his side and then-

Darkness.

When he wakes, he's curled into a ball on the floor, his hands chained to a metal ring that's been cemented into the concrete. The blond bolts upright, struggling to his feet- or tries to. He makes it halfway up before he's stopped- forcefully- by his chains. MacGyver comes crashing to his knees, releasing a grunt of pain involuntarily as he painfully makes contact with the unrelenting concrete.

There's no slack in the chains, and the most comfortable way for him to sit is cross-legged. However, this position makes him vulnerable and unable to dodge any blows that may come his way, as they surely will.

The blond looks about the cell, examining the space he's found himself in. It's about fifteen feet by fifteen feet. Mac's chained slightly off center, and the center itself is occupied by a drain. It's not pleasant to think about why the drain is there, so MacGyver tries to avoid it, but after being left alone for who knows how long, the young man's thoughts continue to return to the sloped floors and the metal drain.

This waiting is obviously serving the purpose of trying to make the undercover agent nervous and unsettled.

Finally, after seconds-minutes-hours of waiting (time passes differently when one has no reference) the door to the dark cell clanks open. MacGyver stares anxiously in the gloom, but tries to appear nonchalant. Suddenly, lights flood the room, piercing white light that infiltrates even the corners furthest from the door. Involuntarily, the agent flinches, squinting his eyes against the painful onslaught.

Blinking the reflexive tears from his eyes, MacGyver peers up at the man that is suddenly looming above him. It is the leader of the task force he was assigned to, a huge, tanned man by the name of Jack Perez.

He is also a man that has been betrayed many times in his life, and does not take kindly to those he deems traitors.

MacGyver feels a thrill of fear go down his spine. But- he is trained, he knows information that must be given, at any cost, to his superiors at the DXS. He also knows information that must not be given to the enemy, no matter the consequences for him.

The young man prepares himself.

The older man doesn't speak for a second, then moves so suddenly that MacGyver cannot brace himself for the swift kick to his side. The agent doubles over in pain, and instinctively tries to move away from the threat. However, with his hands chained to floor, all MacGyver succeeds in doing is jerking his hands rather painfully against his restraints.

The man above him grins. "I've wanted to do that since I found out you were a slimy little weasel."

MacGyver tenses, the hint of malice in the larger man's tone enough to forewarn the younger of what's about to come. He shuts down the part of his mind that has begun to whisper, viciously, just tell him what he wants trade information and loyalty for pain just don't let him-

It begins.

After ten minutes, MacGyver's given a moment's respite. He hunches over his chained hands, his breathing harsh and discordant. Red- vibrant red, poppy red, rose red, blood red- trickles down his chin from his nose. The young man has shifted out of his cross-legged position into one of sitting back on his knees. It's much more uncomfortable than sitting cross-legged, but MacGyver was driven out of that position by the first few blows.

Perez crouches by the younger man, a large hand enveloping his slim shoulder in a gesture that seems comforting, fatherly, almost, but could not be further from the truth. Perez whispers, "Just tell me who sent you, and we can't get you to a better cell. Maybe even negotiate a deal and let you go."

MacGyver almost laughs in disbelief, but his preservation instincts kick in just in time. Does Perez really think he'll give in so easily? The blond says, simply, "No."

Perez's features twist, his previous calm giving way to a hurricane of rage and storm of revenge. "I was hoping you'd say that."

The man turns and walks to the door. He opens it, giving the prisoner a chance to steal a quick glance of an almost-deserted hallway that he recognizes as in the levels of the compound that are set apart from the others by quite a few checkpoints. There's barely anyone stationed here.

There's barely anyone to hear him scream.

Perez speaks to the guard outside, who answers in an assenting murmur. Then Perez shuts the door and returns to stand by MacGyver. However, he doesn't speak to the young man this time around, instead examining the gun that he's removed from his belt.

Soon, there's a knock on the door and the guard has returned. With him are three others, bearing a large metal tub and another set of manacles, this time with longer chains. MacGyver eyes these warily, unsure of what's about to happen. He has an idea, yes, but he'd prefer not to dwell on it.

Perez accepts a set of keys- real, old-fashioned keys- from the guard, who throws a careless glance at MacGyver and then leaves, presumably to return to his post outside the door. Perez bends down and unlocks MacGyver's manacles, then stands and yanks the younger man to his feet by the collar of his shirt. MacGyver adopts a loose stance, one that'll look unprepared to the untrained observer, but is in actuality perfect for defense.

The blond demonstrates this when one of the new men approach him. He grabs the man's arm and twists, bringing him to his knees. Seeing the other two men start for him at the same time, MacGyver takes a step back- right into Perez, whom he had momentarily forgotten. Perez moves fast, and suddenly, MacGyver's vision goes white and his nerves are singing in pain.

A moment later, the pain stops. Mac's on his hands and knees, and he can feel the electrical burn that's already formed and is brushing against his shirt. Perez thumbs the switch on his electrical prod to the 'off' position, and grunts, "Get him up."

Two of the three men grab MacGyver's arms, hauling him to his feet and immobilizing him at the same time. The third grabs a hose from the corner of the cell, something that MacGyver hadn't noticed before. The man turns it on, filling the tub with water, and the blond suddenly knows what's about to come next.

Sure enough, in less than a minute, the tub is filled with water. Perez grins, a sharp, feral expression that merely serves to accentuate the cruel gleam in his eyes. A muscular hand waves at the tub as he addresses MacGyver. "Last chance, kid."

MacGyver grins. The expression isn't as sharp or cruel as Perez's, but it's unsettling, given the way his face is still streaked with blood from his earlier nosebleed. He says, confidently, defiantly, "Last chance to let me go."

Perez laughs, a full, deep-chested chuckle that would be heartwarming in a situation other than this. Then he cuts the laugh off suddenly, his demeanor snapping from amused to deadly serious. "Let's get started."

At least, MacGyver thinks wildly, in the second before he is plunged under the freezing water, they need me alive.

It's a small consolation as his lungs begin to burn.

MacGyver's not sure how long he's been here. There isn't a window or clock in his cell, and, as far as he can tell, he isn't fed at regular intervals. In fact, he's given just enough to keep him conscious and functioning. It's beginning to show in the way his ribs now protrude from his sides, the way his wrist bones jut out from his wrists.

The blond's shirt was ripped a few interrogations ago, torn beyond repair, and the young man was left without a shirt until his captors noticed that he was beginning to develop a worrying blue tinge to his lips and fingertips. MacGyver was thrown an old, ragged t-shirt, gray from use, that warmed him just barely enough to keep him from developing pneumonia. The tattered clothing would've been a little large for the young man at the beginning of his captivity, but it's enormous on him now.

Absurdly, MacGyver thinks of the many old sweatshirts of Jack's that he's accumulated throughout the years. The man leaves them at Mac's house and never receives them back. Mac doesn't care; he thinks they're warm and soft and, if they're left at his house, they're fair game.

MacGyver misses Jack. He misses the security he brings with him, the warm knowledge that an older sibling is there for you.

The next time Perez makes an appearance, MacGyver remembers that this man shares a first name with Jack.

The young man grins, all sharp angles and fierce expression and full of the defiance that comes from having nothing else to lose besides one's life, and spits a mouthful of blood at the man. He only means to hit his shoes, but the blond ends up hitting the man right in his face.

Later, when he's left chained to the ceiling, the manacles up so high that his feet barely brush the ground and his ribs screaming in protest, he doesn't regret it.

The seconds blend into minutes- hours- days- MacGyver loses track. Dimly, he wonders if it's been two weeks since he was captured. If it has, he's twenty-two now.

A faint smile brushes the lips of the blond. He was supposed to celebrate with his friends. That won't happen now.

There is no time, there is simply pain. Pain and questions that the young man refuses to answer. Because- there's a reason, knows there is-because he hasn't been abandoned before, and refuses to consider the possibility that he will be cast aside, forgotten, this time. So he holds out, keeps his mouth shut, his head down, and takes the pain.

Pain is better than being dead.

This becomes his mantra.

Then Perez comes for him again. This, in itself, is not an uncommon occurrence. The highlight of his long hours in captivity is seeing the frustrated expression on Perez's face as he leaves each time without the information he wants.

It's the smile on Perez's face this time that brings chills to Mac's spine. Perez unlocks him from his manacles, pulling him to his feet by the collar of his tattered shirt. The blond is forced through hallways, past curious faces, the bare tile cold on his feet. He's led in what seems to be a circle, but the agent is almost too exhausted to notice. The door before which they stop is completely normal looking, the room inside a typical medical examination room.

The person inside, however, is not a typical prisoner.

Tony Stark is restrained on a large metal operating table. He has turned his head to face the door, and MacGyver's gaze drops to the floor. He's always admired the man's ingenuity, and, for some reason, he doesn't want to be seen like this. Perez forces him further into the room, though, then suddenly pulls him to a stop.

MacGyver stumbles, his feet unsteady and slipping slightly on the cool white tile beneath his bare feet, and the blond's gaze darts up to Stark as his hand goes to steady himself on the wall. Perez apparently takes offense to this, for some reason, and shoves MacGyver to the floor, dealing him a harsh kick to the ribs.

The blond's had worse, much, much worse, but Stark doesn't know that. Stark says brashly, impulsively, bravely, "Hey! Leave him alone!"

MacGyver's thrust his arms over his head in an attempt to protect himself from the beating that he knows is coming, but can't stop himself from glancing over at the older man. It's been too long since someone spoke around him in a tone that wasn't filled with hate, with a tone that didn't spew vitriol.

Perez walks over, says something that's lost in the rushing that fills MacGyver's ears. The young man, seeing Perez prepare to deal the other prisoner a blow, does the only thing he can think of.

He tackles Perez around the waist, using his momentum and what strength is left in his body to shove the man away from Stark and into the wall. Perez snarls, low and deep in his throat, and grabs MacGyver around the throat, turning and shoving him into the wall with enough force to drive the breath from his lungs.

Perez holds him there, the blond's feet barely touching the ground as he desperately tries to dislodge the older man's fingers from his throat, until the younger man's fight begins to dissipate while black spots begin swim before his eyes. Then, Perez lets him drop. MacGyver crashes to the floor, coughing as he draws breath after painful breath of air into his lungs. There's a moment's respite and then-

Perez kicks MacGyver in the side, hard enough to drive all of his newly-reclaimed air out of his lungs. The blond's left gasping again as Perez fists his hand in MacGyver's hair and drags him to his feet and hauls him outside the door.

After they exit the room that Stark's being held in, Perez shoves him into the room right next to it. It's identical to the one they've just left, except there's nothing in it but the large metal table that's bolted to the floor. Perez lets go of his hair, and MacGyver stands, frozen, facing the older man. Perez takes a step forward, and MacGyver flinches back. Perez grins. His gaze holds none of the mirth that the expression implies.

"You obviously aren't going to give us the information we want if we only threaten you," the man says.

MacGyver can only think, in dull horror, They're going to kill someone.

Perez's grin stretches even wider. "We're going to kill Stark if you don't give us the information we want."

Large blue eyes stare up at the taller man, and Perez turns. "I'm going to give you a bit of time to consider your answer. I suggest you think carefully."

With that, the man turns and walks out the door, locking it as he goes. MacGyver's frozen for a few more minutes before his mind goes into overdrive.

He somehow manages to get the lightbulb down from the ceiling without burning himself. The agent smashes the bulb and uses the filament to pick the lock. Then, in the first stroke of luck he's had since his cover was blown, he discovers that both MacGyver's door and Stark's door are both unguarded. The blond unlocks the door to the room where Stark's being held, somehow feeling that they can formulate a plan together if they have time. The vague hope of escape is the only thing that's keeping him on his feet, honestly.

The filament breaks in the lock when MacGyver's trying to remove it, and the way his hands are shaking, he's just lucky that it didn't break earlier.

Mac opens the door and sees a couple of paperclips resting on a table nearby. Not seeing any alternatives, like keys, perhaps, the young man grabs them and begins to straighten them.

Stark says something, and his voice startles MacGyver so badly that he drops one of the paperclips while completely missing what the older man said. He retrieves the paperclip and approaches the table, though, and begins to work on Stark's restraints. He can feel Stark's gaze on him, and he has to stop for a moment, breathe, and calm himself.

He's come to feel that attention is bad. Attention is pain. The young man has to remind himself that not all attention is detrimental to him- and his health, for that matter.

Then he returns to the task at hand. In a couple minutes, Stark is free. MacGyver draws back a bit, keeping a good space between him and the inventor, still wary of the man.

Three weeks in captivity takes its toll on one.

Stark stretches for a moment, then hurries to a large computer that sits in the corner of the room. The genius spends a few minutes poking at it, then turns to face the younger man. He takes a step forward and-

MacGyver can't help it. He flinches backwards, and his hip hits the metal table painfully, the impact adding another bruise to those that already cover his body like a second skin. Stark stops, a strange expression on his face, one that MacGyver does not care to decipher.

They stay like that, the minutes stretching around them, until the door opens and Captain America is at the door.

MacGyver's not sure if he's hallucinating at this point, honestly.

His thoughts are disrupted when Stark speaks again, too low for MacGyver to hear. A beat later, Captain America slides of his cowl and steps towards MacGyver, whose thoughts become a sudden stream of tall strong muscular blond pain not death pain not death pain pain pain.

The captain stops. MacGyver realizes he's moved back a few steps. His back is now pressed against the wall and his breathing has become erratic. The young man's gaze is wrenched from the taller blond when another man enters the doorway. He's shorter than both of the two men by him, although just barely in the case of Stark. The new man takes in the situation with a glance, then murmurs something to his teammates. The man sets a bow and quiver of arrows on the floor by the door, and MacGyver vaguely recognizes him as Hawkeye.

The young man's thoughts have become irrational, driven by too many days of fear and hunger and pain. He hasn't heard a kind voice in what must be weeks. Therefore, he doesn't know what to make of Hawkeye's soft murmurings. MacGyver barely registers the messages- that he's safe, he won't be harmed, the Avengers are there to help- but he feels, instinctively, that this man is someone he can trust.

He reminds MacGyver of Jack.

The blond edges out of his corner towards Hawkeye. The older man's murmurings become encouraging, and MacGyver ventures another few steps forward. Before he knows it, he's simply following Hawkeye, head down and gaze fixed on the man's feet, through the compound and onto something that looks like a mini-airplane.

MacGyver sits on the edge of the bed he's been given on the massive flying base that they're on. The blond's exhausted, but he keeps his eyes on the first person in weeks that's shown themselves to not be a threat.

The air conditioning clanks in the background; MacGyver flinches and his gaze flickers to the side but returns to Hawkeye.

If he looks away he might find that this was all a dream, that he's really back in the compound.

He can't be back there.

The young man doesn't know how long they sit there, he and the Avengers, watching each other, before a shout rings out. "Angus!"

MacGyver's head shoots up at the familiar voice, and he sees, almost instantly, someone that he had begun to think he'd never see again. The young man is on his feet before he can think, and then he's clutching Jack tight and burying his face in his old leather jacket, inhaling the warm, familiar scent of safety and Jack and-

And Jack's arms come around him, pulling him tightly in towards his chest and MacGyver feels an indescribable weight leave his shoulders because Jack is here.

Jack sits in the room with MacGyver as they for a doctor to arrive to examine him. The older man informs his partner that Thornton's getting everything sorted out, and he'll be home as soon as he can.

MacGyver just leans into his friend's side and listens to the comforting rumble of his voice. Jack stands, and MacGyver looks up at him quickly, suddenly afraid that the older man is going to leave him. However, Jack merely takes off his jacket and drapes it over the younger man's shoulders and says, "I'll be right back."

MacGyver clutches the jacket around him with pale hands and keeps his gaze fixed on the door.

His friend returns in barely any time at all, something clutched in his hand.

Jack hands him a scrap of paper with a messy scrawl that says "Tony Stark" and a tiny phone number in one corner. The older man smiles as he sets an arm around his younger friend- brother, really. "I got Stark's autograph for you; maybe you'll shut up about him now."

The calmness of the statement, the normality, touches something in MacGyver. He starts laughing, the first time in far too long. His laughter cuts off abruptly as his ribs flare up, though, and Jack pulls him close as the blond's face twists in pain. Jack's gentle grip anchors MacGyver to reality, though, and the realization finally sinks in.

He's safe.

Hope y'all enjoyed! Also, huge thanks to Tamuril2 for cheerleading! I wouldn't have been able to finish this as fast as I did without her.