Title: Escape Plan: 12% of a Plan
Written by: @tisfan
Square(s): TonyStarkBingo - 3023 Adopted - Peter Quill/StarLord
StarkBucks Bingo - I5 - Partners in Crime
BuckyBarnesBingo - K4 - Meet Ugly
Rating: teen and up
Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes/Peter Quill/Tony Stark
Triggers/warnings: no archive warnings apply
Tags: Prison fic, lack of planning, assholes, but not 100% dicks
Created for: @tonystarkbingo @buckybarnesbingo @starkbucksbingo @rarepairsevents prompt #100 James “Bucky” Barnes/Peter Quill/Tony Stark
Word count: 1480
Summary: They say the first day in prison, you have to win a fight, or become someone’s bitch. Tony’s got no idea which thing just happened.
For @rise-up-ting-ting-like-glitter: thanks for the help brainstorming
Devil’s Station Transport
“That looks like my supper there, pal.”
Tony looked up with a mix of amusement and dread. He’d been on the prison transport for four days, that was eight meals, and he kept expecting something to happen during the common feeding time.
Most of the rest of the days he was locked in a single occupancy cell and generally ignored.
The guy who was starting something was new; he’d been brought aboard with another half dozen mismatched prisoners yesterday. He looked human, but Tony knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything. In fact, he looked like a refugee from a Kevin Bacon movie from the 80s, all wild hair and red leather jacket. He had the same collar around his neck that Tony did, though, which meant he was a prisoner.
Tony hadn’t been able to keep his own clothes; he was in the standard issue, brilliant purple jumpsuit. The prison automated guns were supposed to be able to instantly target any and everyone in the outfit.
This guy was wearing the jacket over his outfit. Tony wondered if that would keep the guns from being able to target him. And who he’d bribed to be able to wear it. It clashed horribly with the jumpsuit, but he was probably warmer than Tony was.
And he was eyeing Tony’s dinner like it was worth eating.
Because there were so many different aliens on the transport, food was… well, a mix of the inedible and unappetizing varieties. Tony had discovered the hard way not to try to eat the “meats”. But bread and the vitamin puddings, while disgusting, were at least digestible. Starving to death was not the plan.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Tony wondered if he could remember what the plan was.
The transport was horribly cramped, there were fights in the feeding room daily, and at least twice that Tony was aware of, someone had been taken away in a body bag and spaced.
But he was trying to keep his head down, mind his own business, and survive.
Get to Devil’s Station. That was part of the plan. Living until they got there, that was also part of the plan.
The guy in the red coat was still standing there while Tony decided what to do. He could meekly hand over his dinner, which seemed a good way to make sure he never ate again.
Tony grabbed the roll and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth, chewing insolently. He’d need the calories.
“I think you got an attitude about sharing, pal,” Redcoat said, taking the pudding cube off the tray and sticking it, unopened, into his pocket.
“Yeah?” Tony asked around the mouthful of bread. Not the best plan, the bread was chewy and tough and took a while to swallow. He reached for the vitamin drink to wash it down. Yarrow juice and water, it was the best part of the offerings. He got the cap off and chugged about half of it before Redcoat grabbed the tin tray to steal the rest of Tony’s dinner.
Which, while that was the meat and vegetables part and nothing that Tony could digest, he’d been making trades with some of the other prisoners for additional bread or juice rations.
“That’s mine,” Tony said, standing up. Redcoat was almost half a foot taller than Tony was, and while scruffy, seemed muscular under his jumpsuit.
“You think so? Come take it,” Redcoat taunted.
So much for trade tonight.
Tony grabbed the tray, jumped up onto his bench and smashed it down onto Redcoat’s head. The man went down like a ton of bricks, meat, gravy, and some sort of blue vegetable material dripping off him.
“Anyone else?” Tony demanded.
Unfortunately, the answer to that seemed to be a resounding yes.