He stepped into the
shower, standing toe to toe with himself, wanting to laugh as the other
flinched away in fear. Stark had a lot to say, and he was going to make sure
his past heard him loud and clear.
“Our entire life, all
we ever wanted was someone to like us, love us; and it sure as hell wasn’t our
father. Howard was a boozer, a brilliant man, yes, but completely cold. Yet
deep down, we wanted to be like him, to be him; wanted to change the world.
Only somewhere along the way, we became too much like him. Shutting out the
world, those who would love us.” He stepped closer, crowding the other man
further into the stall, the water soaking him.
“The one bright spot
in our life is downstairs right now, wanting to cry because he saw that blond
walk out of your room. You love him, I know you do, and you know what? He loves
you too.” He could see Tony stiffen in surprise.
Cautiously, his
younger self looked at him. “He does?” he asked, voice husky, low.
“Yeah…he confessed as
he lay dying in my arms.” The words were bland and unemotional yet the man
known as Stark still felt the painful heartbreak acutely.
“What Afghanistan,
and others had failed to do, Steve’s death succeeded; it broke us completely.”
Stark took a shuddering breath, all these years later and if still felt like
yesterday. A physical ache that had settled in his chest and never left him.
“The world took his
death hard, and I’m not exaggerating when I said it ended my world,” he smiled,
a bitter, hateful twist of his lips.
“I wanted revenge; I
wanted to kill them all. Like it would bring him back, if I somehow made things
right, Steve would return.”
Tony dared not
breathe as he listened to his future in wide-eyed shock. The words piercing his
shrapnel riddled heart.
“In my arrogance, I
tried to do it all alone. It was my failure. I failed to save him, and then I
failed the world.” Identical dark eyes locked.
“Now, I’m going to
change it. We’re going to change it.” His good eye seemed to take on a sort of
manic gleam then, tone fervent and forceful.
“I’ve lived far too
long Tony. Seen everyone we come to care about die. Seen the Earth destroyed,
and legends fall. I’m still here though, here, because he wouldn’t want me to
quit.” He looked down and away, his good eye misty and far away.
“He’s always been
with me; the sane part of my fragmented mind.” It almost seemed like he was
talking to someone else, his voice a horse whisper. The silence was ringing, as
the naked man shivered under the cold spray.
Stark exhaled a
shuddering breath, looking at his past, pleading, “We have a chance now. A
chance at happiness, we just need to hold on.” Painfully he closed his eyes,
feeling suddenly tired and wrung out.
Tony looked at
himself, the battered reflection of his desolate future. His words bit at his
core, pulled at his heart. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, knees suddenly
collapsing beneath him. Trembling, he sank to the shower floor, heart and mind
racing madly.
His other self
hunkered down beside him, staring silently. “How did you stay sane? Stay
together?” he whispered, holding his pounding head in trembling hands.
“Who said I was
sane?” Stark quipped, Tony managed to crack a weak smile at that.
“I didn’t with the
blond…I don’t think I could have if I tried,” he found himself saying rather
lamely.
The still half
dressed man shrugged, “I know, but you and I both know the drinking needs to
stop. It’s either all or none when it comes to that.” Tony found himself nodding,
he’d known that particular truth for a while, just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge
it. “You’ll be surprise how much better we get.”
Stark reached up,
then turning off the shower, neither moving to get out. “So what happened to
you, I mean me? Us?” Tony asked hesitantly gesturing to the arm, and the eye.
The future man
grinned proudly. “Pretty slick aren’t they? Made them myself, amazing how much
of a medical application Iron Man has. The eye I lost to an irate demi- God
around 2055, and the arm was torn off by an incredibly angry abomination in
2082.” He flexed the metal appendage, watching as clever fingers reaching out
to touch it fascinated.
“It’s powered by the
arc isn’t it?” Tony said, traced the attachment to the power source keenly.
“Yeah, Bruce helped
me connect everything, human biology meets hi-tech.” The other Tony rubbed his
temples, head pounding from hangover and information overload.
“I’d like to take a
look at it when I’m feeling more human.” Humming in agreement, Stark, eyed the
growing bruise on his jaw, perversely pleased.
“You can, but first
you need to fix things with Steve.”
The nude figure
groaned, “I have no idea what to do, I’m so worried about messing things up.
Any advice?”
Blinking in shock,
Stark was taken aback. “Christ I….I haven’t been on a date since he died…” he
spoke softly.
“Love…” he
glanced at the dead man leaning against the sink, watching them intently.
“Wow, really? All
that time and nothing? When did I turn into a goody two-shoes?”
The older man turned
back to his younger self, cocking his head to the side. “When we met Steve, he
had an unshakable belief that deep down we were a good man. We wanted to be the
man he believed us to be. After that…well, you don’t really think about dates
when you’re surviving in a post-apocalyptic world.”
“Touché.”
“Tell
him to think old fashioned, dinner and romance.”
He cast a side long
look at the man of his fevered brain, “Nice.”
“Steve’s an old
fashioned guy, think dinner and romance.” Tony was looking curiously between
the sink and the older man. Looking like he wanted to ask a question.
“Good idea, I’ll ask
him out for dinner tonight.” Nodding, satisfied his work was done here, Stark
stood moving out of the shower. Shrugging back into his clothing, he ambled to
the door, the briefing at SHEILD fast approaching.
“Hey Stark,” he
paused, turning back to the huddled figure. “Thanks…” Tony said softly, the man
from the future smiling crookedly.
“Don’t thank me yet,
we still have an apocalypse to stop.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“This is Eva, or as I
like to call her, the cunt from hell.” He tapped the tablet in his hands the
photo of an ungodly beautiful women appearing. She looked regal and disdainful,
a sneer on her perfect lips. Almost human in looks, only the overly large eyes,
and too smooth skin betraying them for what they were.
“She is going to show
up in Central Park, in exactly six days, thirteen hours, and thirty-two
minutes. Lot of commotion and excitement, headlines blah blah.” He moved
through several articles.
“She claims to
be the ruler of her people, come to Earth on a good faith mission. Everyone
makes a fuss; Stark Industries throws a gala for her to meet all sorts of
foreign diplomats. Once everyone is all in one room…” The next photo’s are of
bodies, followed by articles about the ‘Stark Party Massacre.’
“Following the party,
a week after, with the world diplomatic command structure weakened, they
invade.” He turned to the table, finished his little presentation. He’d sort of
skimmed over some of the finer details, but those were more need to know, and
at the moment they didn’t.
“How do the
Avengers let that happen at the party?” Natasha asked shrewdly.
“Distraction, outside
in the city, Eva and her lot do the actual killing. Wounding herself, and then
claiming the Avengers had planned the whole thing.” A stunned silence fell over
them.
“People believed
that?” Bruce looked saddened by the revelation.
Stark wasn’t so
sympathetic. “Really? With all the stupid conspiracy crap on the internet,
you’re asking that? You’re tripping, bro.”
Steve took it all in,
processing the information, before looking around the room, “What’s the play?”
he asked, trying not to look at Tony. Still upset over this morning. Despite
knowing it was completely irrational to feel that way.
“Plan is, I’m going
to shoot the bitch in the head. First chance I get.” The cold statement had
everyone staring at Stark in disbelief; even Fury was wearing an expression
close to shock. Not that he gave a flying rat’s ass; he was fully prepared to
do what he had to do.
If they thought he
was going to lose a moment’s sleep over killing that thing, they had another
thing coming. He had fantasized about putting a bullet right between that
bitch’s eyes for years.
“Might
want to keep that plan under your hat.” Stark shrugged, he
wasn’t going to pussy foot around.
“You can’t!” Steve
blurted, looking horrified at the casual way he spoke of killing.
Tasha was on Stark’s
side, “Sounds like a solid plan to me.”
The man from the
future grinned, “Knew there was something about you I liked.” The big blond was
looking for some help from the others. Stark feeling the tiniest bit of
remorse, Steve really was too good for this world.
“You don’t have to be
there, I can do it, no muss no fuss. Just say it was some deranged assassin.”
He ignored the
laughter only he could hear, “Pretty
close to the truth, isn’t it?”
Sighing, he gave the
dead man a rueful look, “I’ll do what I have to do.”
“I cannot condone the
assassination of a foreign envoy, on the strength of a conviction from a man
claiming to be from the future.” Fury spoke slowly, and very softly, “We know
what may happen, on the bases of that alone we can probably circumvent this.”
That started an
argument then, one in which both Stark’s remained silent. One because Stark was
going to do what he wanted anyway. The other pensive; knowing there was more to
this story than the future man was telling them.
Eventually, they
managed to hash out a plan that was deemed more acceptable than flat out
murder. The Avengers would meet the envoy, taking them into ‘protective’
custody. Stark had to snort at that. Like SHIELD was going to stop him. He’d
take this goddamn place down brick by brick if he had too.
“What
will that solve, love? Innocent people could get hurt,” dark
eyes studied clouded blue.
“Sometimes you need
to crack a few eggs to make an omelet.” The pain, and sadness was heart
breaking to see, but it wouldn’t be the first time he disappointed the man.
“What was that?” Fury
pinned him.
Stark returned the
look, “Nothing.”
“I’ll have your word
on this Stark.”
“Nope.”
Fury pounded the
table, “Damit, Stark! I am the Commanding Officer!” Snorting, he leaned back in
his chair, crossing thick arms.
“You have zero
command or control over me and you know it. What are you going to do? Lock me
up? It’s worked well so far.” He didn’t back down an inch. “If you’re pulling
rank then I’m a Commander of some sort.”
He fished out his dog
tags, glancing at the wording on it. Name, date of birth, identification
number, and rank, “Ha Commander.” He held it up triumphantly.
“Commander of what?”
Clint asked curious.
“No clue, Commander
of Grapefruit for all I know. They started making up ranks for people after a
while.” Shrugging, he tucked his tags away again.
“What do you
mean, making up ranks?”
“Everyone is in the
military, no option.”
Diverted Fury fumed
silently for a moment, the damnable man had a point. Stark was annoying in this
time, but with experience, and a hard edge he was somewhat terrifying.
A sudden brilliant
idea stuck him, “Captain, would you please ask our friend from the future to
refrain from killing this ‘Eva’ until an appropriate time when we can discern
what course of action should be taken?”
Stark narrowed his
eyes at Fury; the man knew exactly what he was doing. Nodding, Steve turned to
him, wide blue eyes pleading.
“Fuck…” he
huffed; looking anywhere but at those eyes capitulating, “I’ll wait.”
Satisfied, the
meeting was adjourned Fury leaving immediately, while the others lingering.
Bruce, Clint and Natasha where talking amongst themselves while Steve was
sending, betrayed puppy eyes towards his younger self.
Standing, Stark
casually joined his oblivious counterpart, “Lot on your mind?”
Blinking, dark eyes
focused on him frowning, “You left something out of that story, didn’t you?”
Stark nodded slowly. “What was it?” He began to shake his head, but those dark
eyes turned hard, “Tell me.”
“He
needs to know,” the soft dead voice echoed.
“We were drunk, too
drunk. Steve was dead and we crawled in a bottle and tried to drown the pain. I
don’t remember the party; I remember the drink, the anger and hate. The
catastrophic decision to take on those monsters in that state. I was no leader,
barely in control of myself. All those innocent people died because I failed
him.” He watched, dethatched as Tony’s face turned ashen.
“I’ve carried the
failure of that night and what follows my whole life; it is not a life worth
living.” He looked past his stricken self to the dead man.
“You
never let me down.”
Stark turned his gaze
to the very alive Steve sitting silently, “Go on, time to start making things
right.” He gestured with his head towards the beautiful man. Tony gave him a
small tight smile, nodding decisively. Standing, he squared his shoulders
heading for Captain America.
“Is
it weird talking to yourself?”
Stark watched as he
approached cautiously, “Sort of, but it also sort of feels like we are
different people. I barely remember what it was like before the end anymore.”
He watched his self
awkwardly trying to talk to Steve. Clint, and Natasha edging closer trying to
listen in. “Not likely,” muttering he made his way over to the pair.
“So, what do you say
to a little spar?” He asked clapped them both on the back, wrapping his arms
around their shoulders; both looked at him incredulously.
“Which one?”
Clint asked narrowing his eyes thoughtful.
He raised a dark brow
cockily, “Both, or else it’s not a challenge.” That got their attention, they
rounded on him.
“You think you
can take both of us on?” Tasha scoffed flippantly.
“No, I know I can
take both you on.”
Clint gasped as if
he’d been shot, “Oh, it’s on now Stark!” Bruce watching the exchange, couldn’t
help but grin as he followed them out. He wasn’t going to miss this for the
world.
Steve watched the
others depart before turning his attention to Tony, the inventor looked very
pale, and despondent, and somehow he thought, a different person then he had
yesterday. “Steve,” he said softly, locking eyes with him.
“I wanted to apologize
about this morning…the woman…nothing happened.” he was uncomfortable, nervous
even. Tony Stark was never like this, never unsure of himself.
The arrival of his
future had flung his crippling self-doubt in his face. The man they called
Stark represented a future Tony wouldn’t have thought he’d have had the
strength to survive. He had been right; he was Tony Stark’s redemption.
“It’s ok Tony, it’s
your business,” Steve mumbled blushing.
“No, it’s not alright,
Steve, I…that is I….” the full force of those blue eyes was on him. Tony
completely wilted.
“Go out for dinner
with me tonight?” He blurted, waiting with baited breath for his answer.
“With you?” he asked.
Tony nodded slowly,
seeing the uncertainty in his eyes he quickly amended, “And other me, future
me.”
He had no idea what
he said it. Just pure panic, he could regret it later, but what mattered was
that Steve was nodding. Tony wanted to collapse with relief, “Great, how about
I make reservations for 6?” Steve nodded again, hesitantly.
Awkwardness settled
between them then, Tony wanting desperately to break the unbearable tension,
“Well, shall we go see how the fight is going?”
Steve finally managed
a genuine smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”
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