Ok, new story, yeah!

This is Book 2 of the Before The Worst series,

Iv offering no synapsis as I will probably give away too much :)

Rachel

CHAPTER 1

It's been... 16? 17? Months now... Just under a year and a half since I left... Since I quit the Avengers... A year and 5 months... And so far, it's been... Rather good...

They searched for me at first, the Avengers and SHIELD, both teams working together to try and find me. But i always escaped them. There had been a few close calls, the flash if Natasha's red hair down the street, or the gleam on Steve's shield visible half a mile away. But they never caught me. I still in Rio De Janeiro, ironically enough the same place Bruce had hidden for so many months before. Maybe it was because such an obvious place to hide that no one looked for me here. I lived in the hearth of a large run down shanty town, renting a small apartment. It had a bed, a toilet and shower, a cooker and fridge, and a small table. That's all I needed. I had learned Portuguese quiet easily and completely abandoned speaking English. It connected me to my past life, as Tony Stark, as a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and superhero. As Iron Man.

I was now living in Brazil, working as a mechanic under the name of Carlos Brasillon, a poor-paid man from Spain who had come up for the first time in 37 years. I kept my hair dyed blond, and continued to shave my beard, drastically changing my appearance. My story was I was originally Brazilian, but moved to Spain when I was only one years old for my parents to make a living. They had recently passed away and I was now home again. It was fake, it was sad, and it was stupid. But it worked. And that's all I needed.

"Hey Pedro" I said in Portuguese, grinning at my co-worker. Pedro Carssion had lived here all his life but he was a well-travelled guy, and always had a smile on his face. He had a good humour and as we had similar tastes, we had clicked instantly. He slid out from under a particularly badly crashed Nissan Micra and grinned at me, "hey Carlos". "Got any jobs today?" I asked, zipping up my blue working overalls as he shook his head, "just this beauty". I looked back up at the silver Nissan. The windscreen was smashed, both back doors buckled and the engine stripped out. "You know, it'd be cheaper to just get a new car" I said smirking and he sighed, "that what I told the owner. But he was rather persistent. Something about only we could fix it or something". "Only we could fix it? Kind of an odd guy. You could get a mechanics only down the road who would do the job in half the time for QUATER of the price" I replied and he laughed, sitting up and wiping his hands on an oily rag, "speak of the devil". I followed his gaze down to a man walking our way... And i froze.

"Carlos? Hey Carlos?" Pedro asked and I snapped myself out of it, faking a smile and turning to him, "yea I'm fine, I'm... Ah... I gotta check out some paper work". Quickly I began to walk down through the old store, going into the office and slowly sitting down at the desk. It couldn't be... No. That wasn't...that was t possible... Was it? It couldn't be... HIM... It just couldn't be...

I faintly remember someone entering the office, walking up behind me. It was too late when I finally realised what was happening, and a strong hand clasped a cloth over my nose and mouth. But the shock kept me paralysed in place and I didn't fight back. A strong smell of chloride overtook my senses and I slumped back in my chair semiconscious. "Well Stark, I have to say I'm rather disappointed" the man said, "I thought you'd put up more of a fight". I tried to think up of a smart comeback, a witty remark, but i couldn't. I was frozen in place, staring up at the man who had done all this as the edges of my vision blackened... The man who had been walking up to Pedro and I... The man who I thought was dead...

Justin Hammer.

The minutes passed slowly, then the hours flashed by and even days and weeks went and came without any meaning. Or what I presumed was weeks. It felt I'd been here for at least two and a half months. No food, no water, no heat and no cold. The only person I had came to contact with was on the day after I had been thrown in here. One of Hammers men had come in for a brief few minutes, taking my shoes, socks, watch, and overalls so I was left with my white tank top and black trousers. I kept the boredom away by counting the seconds and minutes. That's how i guess the time. There were 86,400 seconds in a day. And so far, i was on 6,480,000 seconds. Exactly 75 days, or two and a half months. That was if my measurement and timing was correct. But i hadn't slept at all, and since there was nothing to distract me from counting, it should be pretty exact. So far I had found nothing that could help me. On the first day I had stood up, looking around as well as I could when having a bag over my head. The door was only openable from the outside, the walls were metal, the floor was metal, and the ceiling was metal. It was like a steel coffin. And i was slowly being buried alive.

A rattling of the door captured my attention and i listened intently for anything familiar or that could help. What I heard, was angry cursing and shouting. Then there was the bang of a door again and then silence... "Guys" someone hissed. That voice... "What now Barton?"'someone else asked. Barton? As in... No. NO. This wasnt happening... "Look" somewhere whisphered and I felt all eyes fall on me. No. NO NO NO. Not them. Not THEM. When Hammer said I'd have company... I didn't think he meant THEM... Not them... Not the Avengers.