“Well,
aside from your rather heavy handed ways, I think it went well.”
Stark moaned in bliss
as he stood under the scalding spray. “Damn skippy it went well. The good thing
about dealing with a bunch of superheroes; they see the fantastic everyday.” He
could hear his imaginary man chuckling.
“Maybe
it was your winning personality.”
Grumbling, he
lathered himself up for the third time “Didn’t think delusions could be so
sassy.”
“Finish
your shower smarty pants.”
Grinning, he did just
that.
Feeling more human
than he had in a long while. He was clean, he had soda, and more importantly he
had saved Steve. It gave him hope that he could do this, that he could change
the future.
“Tony,
if you succeed in this, what becomes of you?”
The man from the
future paused, toweling himself off, “Well…if I do change things, I guess I
just cease to exist.” He looked at the pale dead man, seeing the sorrow in
clouded eyes. He offered him a sad, resolute smile, “I’m not afraid love, neither
should you.”
Turning away, he
moved to the stack of cloths sitting innocently on the bench. With nothing more
than combats to wear, Agent Hill had been good enough to scrounge him
something.
Sans underwear, he
tugged on the faded jeans, surprised they fit rather well. The shirt baby blue
had him grinning when he saw the picture on the front. “Girl has a sense of
humor,” it was the Avengers in battle pose. The sweater was a SHIELD one, gray
and simplistic, but he’d given up caring about his clothing long ago.
Dressed, he pocketed
his armor, tucking the rest of his clothing away in a backpack he slung on.
Mentally going over what he needed to do, listing the tasks in his mind. Get
the rucksack from the abandoned SUV, and then start correlating his data for
the next phase of his plan. Nodding, he ran absent fingers through shaggy wet
locks. Moving to the mirror, he pulled his hair back, tying it off in a small
ponytail.
Hesitating a moment
to adjust the eye patch, it wasn’t a traditional like Fury’s, it was square,
black and utterly plain. Making sure his mechanical eye was hidden, he looked
away.
“Don’t
know why you wear it, your eye is fine.”
Snorting, Stark
fished out his leather glove tugging it on his metal hand, “Really? Pretty sure
I freak people out.”
“Should
never be ashamed of who you are.”
He
gave the dead Cap a mock salute, “Too late for that, my love.”
Ready, he zipped up
his hoodie heading out into the hallway only to collide with a very real, very
warm, very handsome Captain America. “Whoa,” he staggered back, feeling big
hands settle on his shoulders.
“Sorry, didn’t mean
to run into you,” the soft voice was balm to his wounded soul. He’d been
imagining seeing Steve again for so long.
“No prob Cap, just
wasn’t expecting you to be right there,” he managed as the big man released him,
blushing faintly.
“I just thought you
might like some company.” Blinking surprised, he felt scarred lips twitch, he
knew he should say no, but the offer was far too tempting.
“Sure.”
He heard a
faint chuckle in his mind, “Should I be
jealous?”
~~~~~~~~~
He sat unmoving in
his darkened lab.
Mind churning
ceaselessly as he stared unseeingly across the room. Today had been a hell of a
trip. He was having problems processing. There were millions of unanswered
questions. He wanted to interrogate his future self, but at the same time he
was terrified to approach him.
He was scared to know
what had happened to him.
Even more then that
though, he could not stop thinking about his chilling prophecy. Steve was meant
to die today. It clawed at his mind.
How could he possibly
survive something like that?
He couldn’t think on
it anymore, didn’t want to think on it anymore. Grabbing his jacket and his
keys he jumped in one of his sports car, “Going out JARVIS.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve glanced
sidelong at the man sitting placidly beside him, staring serenely out the
window, a small wistful smile on his face. A hundred questions rolled through
his head, the blond man was dying to ask, but far too polite to pester.
“Ask,” the strange
man said softly, turning to regard him amused. Steve blushed beet red, could he
read minds?
Stark watched him
grinning, feeling giddy and light head. Unsure if it was the sugar rush from
the Coke or sheer relief that he had stopped the single most horrendous moment
in his life from happening.
“I wasn’t…I mean I
can’t…” Steve stuttered at a lost.
“You have a million
questions for me, I’m sure. Here, pull over, let’s get some food and I’ll
answer everything you want.” Nodding the blond did just that, Stark out and
headed for a fast food joint, mouth watering happily.
Steve fell inline
beside his companion, “Are you sure? We can go somewhere nicer…”
The future Tony shook
his head empathetically; “I haven’t had fast food in a century.”
Steve ended up paying
as the smaller man got enough to satisfy Thor and the Hulk. Settling in a
booth, the Cap watching astounded as the small-scarred man packed away the
food, looking utterly content and happy.
“Fire away Cap,” he
said around a mouthful of something.
Steve chewed his
own burger thoughtfully, wondering where to start, “You really can’t age?”
“Oh I age, just
extremely slowly, sort of like you do. Only I don’t have crazy healing
powers.”
The blond nodded
understanding, before taking a deep breath. “Is it bad in the future?” he asked
softly, wanting to take back the words as soon as they left his mouth. It had
been the one thing he wanted to know most, needed to know.
The man before him
was a roadmap of pain and anguish. One look told Steve he had seen more then any
man had right to. Yet he had to ask, needed to know the truth no matter how
terrible it was.
“The world as we know
it ends. This empire of materialism and capitalism corrupts and collapses. It
becomes a time of martial law where only the strong survive.” He looked away
from stunned blue eyes swallowing his mouthful.
“It’s bad Steve, it’s
bad for a long time. The worst of it…no one believes in superheroes anymore.
We’re blamed for the world ending. For failing humanity.” He gives the man a
sad, self-deprecating grin, “I think in the end, it was only right we
shouldered that.”
Steve studied him a
long moment, “That’s not true though, is it? You say ‘we’ but your eyes say
you. You’ve carried this burden a long time, haven’t you?”
Stark closed his good
eye, “You always knew how to see right though me,” he whispered softly.
Reopening his eye he offered Steve a smile, “It doesn’t really matter now,
because it’s not going to happen. The future is already infinitely better.
You’re still here.”
Steve didn’t know
what to say, they finished their meal in silence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He wasn’t thinking
anymore. His mind and body blessedly numb.
The exclusive club
was bumping and pounding as he downed another drink.
A tall blond woman
slid up to him, too drunk to really understand, he smiled sloppily at her as
she said something he couldn’t make out. He didn’t really care, she could just
go away, all he wanted to do was drink and stop feeling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Well this is a spare
room, I’m pretty sure,” Steve explained opening the door, of a small, rarely
used Tower room. “Sorry it’s not very big.”
The dark headed man
shrugged, it had a bed, he wasn’t fussy. He gave Steve a grin, “Thanks, it’ll
do just fine.” Suddenly he was incredibly weary; he couldn’t remember the last
time he’d slept.
“JARVIS will help you
out if you need anything,” Steve explained. Surprised dark brows rose as a
genuine smile crept across the well-worn face.
“JARVIS,” he breathed
happily.
“Here sir, I have
been filled in by the SHIELD computers on the circumstances. I am at your
command.” Still smiling, he sat on the bed shaking his head, how long had it
been since he’d heard that wonderful, pain in the ass AI? He had lost him long
ago, like everyone else. The programming corrupted and destroyed when the world
had fallen apart. He’d made him again but something had been missing, it was no
longer his JARVIS.
“Well, I’ll let you
get some rest then, good night umm…Stark,” he offered.
The other man
locking eyes with him, “To you I’ll always be Tony.”
Stunned, blue eyes
blinked before Steve silently retreated, the door closed quietly.
Alone, Stark was
kicking off boots lying back on the soft bed, a few hours sleep would be
awesome. Closing tired eyes, he was out seconds later.
His nightmares for
the first time since Steve’s death, left him blessedly alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve did not sleep
well that night.
He had wanted to talk
to Tony; his Tony from this time but JARVIS had said the genius had left
earlier. That never meant good things. Confused and worried, he gave up
pretending to sleep, heading for the gym at 0500.
It was usually silent
at this time, the others running on their own schedules, but on this occasion
he could hear noises within. A steady thump, thump accompanied by a soft grunt
of exertion. Someone was working out.
Curious, he poked his
head around the corner. Recognizing the dark headed man, it was Stark, or Tony
he guessed but he was having trouble reconciling the two as the same man.
Watching for a moment,
Steve realized several things at once; the first was this man was well trained.
He gracefully moved about the floor in a series of complex exercises that left
the soldier both awed and impressed. The second was he was shirtless, a
familiar blue glow in his chest, but why was wearing armor on only one arm?
Across the room the
man stopped, whirling suddenly falling automatically into a defensive crouch.
Steve held up his
hands in a placating gesture, “Sorry, just me.”
Stark straightened
slowly nodding, “Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked softly, turning away moving
to his discarded shirt, back to the other man as he tugged it on followed
quickly by a hoodie. Steve frowned curious.
“No, not very well,
lot on my mind I guess,” Stark hummed in agreement, “Didn’t mean to interrupt
your workout.”
Shrugging, Stark
grinned lopsidedly, “I was going to work on some weights anyway.” Steve grinned
happily; it would be nice to have some company.
The stayed in the gym
an hour more before making their way up to the kitchen, talking about nothing
in particular. Tasha, Bruce, and Clint already at the table eating when they
joined them.
“Never thought I’d
live to see the day Stark would workout,” Clint jested.
Careful to keep his
left hand tucked in his pocket Stark sat. “Surprise, surprise,” he mumbled,
frowning when he didn’t see his present self. Although that was nothing to be
surprised over. He had once held a silly notion he didn’t need them; he was
better on his own.
That he could fight
his own demons.
He could avenge Steve
alone; he had paid bitterly for his arrogance.
They heard a noise
then, all turning in time to see a long legged blonde, dressed in cloths from
the night before disappearing down the hall towards elevators. She gave them a
smug wave on the way by.
Stark felt his blood
run cold, he didn’t want to see Steve’s expression. Didn’t want to look; but he
did. The utter anguish and betrayal he saw made him want to kill his present
self.
“Handle
with care love,” the voice of reason spoke up.
Standing slowly, he
headed out pausing in the doorway, “No matter what you hear stay away, I won’t
kill him.” He spoke softly, calmly, but his tone left them with no doubt.
Steve watched him go,
not sure if he should be worried or not.
He headed for Tony’s
room…his room, door automatically opening for him. JARVIS could not deny his
creator. It was dark, reeking of booze, and the women’s perfume, but not that
musky smell of sex.
He hadn’t, so he
wasn’t going to beat him too bad. Still, he was going to give his past self the
single thing he had wished someone had done for him his entire life.
Striding across the
room he reached the bed, his naked self lying vulnerable and open. He couldn’t
remember when he used to look like that, when the only scars he bore were the
ones on his chest around his inlay.
He was beyond angry
with himself, why couldn’t he see how much Steve loved him? Would do anything
for him? Didn’t he realize just how precious the man was?
“Be
gentle,” the voice reminded.
“I will just need a
wake-up call. JARVIS, lock us in.” He could hear the door bolt, as he reached
out with his mechanical left arm. Without a moments hesitation, he yanked
himself off the bed marching towards the bathroom.
“Wha’s going on?” the
man he carried slurred, completely disoriented.
Stark didn’t answer,
turning on the shower ice cold as he threw the drunk in. Watching in satisfaction
as he came around then.
“What the fuck!” Tony
yelled, sputtering trying to get out from the icy spray, the man from the
future pushed him back. “Goddamn it you mother fucking-” he trailed off as a
fist connected with the side of his head.
Stark had seriously
contemplated using his metal one, but goody two-shoes in his head had said no.
Grunting in pain, the sopping man stared silently at the man, so eerily similar
to himself, barricading him in the shower.
Tony’s head was still
swimming with the booze; he had drunk himself stupid last night. Truthfully he
wasn’t even sure how he’d made it home. Or why he was now on the receiving end
of what had to be the scariest motherfucker he’d ever seen.
“Why-” he began when
his future self popped him another one.
“Shut up, for once in
our miserable existence, shut your goddamn mouth and listen.” His voice was
deep, husky, and Tony couldn’t help thinking sort of cool despite the
situation.
“You can’t bullshit
me Tony, I am you…” he smiled then, and it wasn’t pleasant. The scars on his
face pulling tight, as he unzipped his sweater, tossing it aside followed but
his t-shirt, and eye patch.
For the first time he
faced his past, all of his failures on display.
Brown eyes stared at
him in disbelief; his smart eye telling him the man was sobering by the moment.
“What are you?” Tony
whispered eyes lingering on the mechanical arm, the metal wires attaching it to
his chest. Moving to the glowing red eye set back in the socket, his torn
drooping lid doing little to conceal it.
“A chance at
redemption Anthony Stark.”
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