Stark was having the
time of his life.
Puffing lightly, he
dodged out of the way of Tasha’s kick, managing to launch Clint over his
shoulder and across the room. Laughing, he flipped backwards quickly at Black
Widow tried again. Landing lightly on his feet he, cocked a brow. “Surrender?”
Clint panting slowly,
lifted himself off the mat. Natasha, taking a moment to plan her next avenue
attack. Stark grinned, he used to spar with the pair all the time, and then he
had spared with their kids, and their kids.
Speaking of which,
“So, when you two going to get it together and realize you’re made for each
other?” he asked nonchalantly. The identical expression of shock was completely
worth the sudden onslaught.
The fight had managed
to accumulate an audience at some point, trainees in the gym, agents pausing in
their duties. News of the friendly little match must have been spreading,
because more were pouring in.
The three locked in
an intricate dance of attack and defend, said nothing more for long moments.
Stark mindful to keep his metal arm to limited use. He didn’t want to hurt
them. Using a lull in the battle, he sent another little verbal jab.
“You’re going to have
beautiful babies, two boys and girl. Unfortunately, the boys bare a distinct
resemblance to Clint.” He laughed outright, as they came at his again, but he could
see they were curious now.
He flung them back.
“Boys?” Tasha asked, panting faintly.
“Yeah, I called them
Plague and Pestilence, but you went a little more traditional.” Clint took a
swipe at him, Stark ducked easily, back bending in a way that no human hundred
and thirty-eight year old should be able to do.
“Oh yeah, what
did we call them?”
Stark smiled softly,
“Steven and Anthony.”
The fight lasted only
a few minutes longer; Clint finally prone on the floor, winded held his hands
up in surrender. Tasha glad to have not been the first to give up, sank to her
knees beside the blond.
Stark was breathing a
little heavier himself, wandering over, he laid down beside them, huffing. “That
was fun.” The three chuckled. Bruce, Tony and Steve joining them as the crowd
began to disperse, speculating on the oddly familiar figure who’d just taken on
two Avengers.
“That was
amazing!” Steve said all but gushing, staring at the man from the future with
no small amount of hero worship. Shrugging unconcerned, Stark folded his arms
behind his head, his t-shirt sweat damped clinging to wiry muscles Normally, he
would have pulled off the hoodie but embarrassment of his arm stopped him.
Natasha was looking
at him keenly, still mulling over his words during the fight. “They are twins,
aren’t they?” She asked softly, dark eyes glittering with some unknown emotion.
“Yeah, and I’m pretty
sure they were my karma comeuppance,” he teased the women with a smirk. Her
face softening, eyes tender; a look he hadn’t seen since the day Emily had been
born.
“The girl?” Clint
wasn’t looking at him.
“Emily, she is an
angel by the way, pretty sure you weren’t the father of her.” Clint gave
him a smack on the stomach. The man from the future chuckled heartily.
“You’re talking about
their children, aren’t you?” Bruce said, the first to figure it out.
“He was using it as a
distraction technique during the fight,” Clint said absently, deep in thought.
Stark closed his
eyes. “I was causal conversation is all. Thought you might like to know.”
“You looked after
them often? The kids?” Natasha seemed hesitant to ask questions, but she
also looked like she had to know.
“Yeah, I was the
loser single friend who watched the kids while mom and dad had a night to
themselves.”
He cracked his good
eye at them; “No worries though, took them to the nicest strip clubs…”
Black Widow narrowed
her eyes. “I’m kidding! It’s a post apocalyptic world; my lab is sixty feet
below the surface. With titanium reinforcement, it was the safest place on
base. You left them with me when you went on missions.” He reached an arm up to
his younger self, pleased when Tony pulled him upright.
“I can’t
imagine kids actually liking you,” Clint muttered slowly, standing as well.
Stark gave the
blushing Steve a wink, “Kids love me, I’m a human night light.” He rapped on
his chest, the others laughed.
Fun over, they headed
out of the gym. Stark falling in step beside the Tony from this time, “How’d it
go?”
“I asked him out for
dinner…I said you were coming too,” the younger man blurted out, looking
helpless.
The older groaned,
“Why?”
The billionaire
shrugged, looking morose, “He looked like he was going to say no, I panicked.”
Clenching his teeth
in frustration, he glanced at the dead man walking in step with him.
“Help
them out, love.”
What Steve wanted, he
got “Ok.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What does one wear
to be a third wheel on a date?” He asked, amused as he admired his reflection,
smoothing the front of the expensive dress shirt. A loner from Tony, it almost
fit. He was a little thinner at the waist and thicker through the shoulders but
it was manageable.
“I’ll
be with you,” he smiled wanly at the reflection of the other.
“Yeah but only I can
see you.”
“True
enough.”
Dressed in nice
jeans, and a dark blue shirt, he combed his hair back, adjusted his glove and
patch, before once more checking himself.
“Been a while since I
had to fuss up,” he frowned, trying to recall the last time. He turned his
scarred face to the side; nothing he did anymore was going to make him look
less horrifying.
“The
marriage of Emily’s daughter, you gave away the bride.”
Stark smiled
wistfully, “Ahh yes…” the future hadn’t been entirely awful. Definitely
terrible, but there had been bright moments; like beacons in perpetual darkness.
He’d seen both the
very best and the very worst in humanity. That indelible spirit that allowed
them to survive and thrive in the most hostile of environments. The birth of
the twins had been a revelation for him; life no matter what moves on.
“I wish you’d been
there, with me…they would have loved you more,” Tony said softly, unable to look
at himself anymore.
“I
was always there Tony, always with you.”
He closed his eyes,
that constant ache throbbing dully in his chest, “I know.” Taking a shaky
breath he straightened, reminding himself that this is why he was here. He was
going to change history.
Right now though, he
had a date with Steve. As normal looking as he was going to get, he headed down
the stairs, joining Bruce in the living room to watch TV until the other two
were ready. God, he missed trash TV.
“How’d you end up on
this date?” Bruce asked as he settled on the couch.
“Oh Christ, I don’t
know, maybe I should beat the snot out of my present self, who knows.” The
scientist laughed, a tension filled silence descending on the room.
“Stark…Tony, can I
ask you something?” The man from the future had a feeling what he was going to
ask by the hesitant tone of his voice.
“Shoot.” Banner shifted
uncomfortable for a moment.
“In the future
that is, do I…am I…” he took a deep steadying breath, “What becomes of me and
the big guy?” he finally managed.
Stark had expected
something like that, but it was a difficult question to answer. There are ups
and downs, triumphs and heart aches, but most of all a strong friendship and a
deep love that he had for the man and his ‘monster’. It had been devastating
when he’d lost them. Not in battle or a lab accident, but to something as
benign as old age.
“I’m not sure how to
answer that Bruce, there is the good and the bad…but we were together. Right
till the end, you and me,” his smile was sad. “You and the big guy were always
my best friends.”
The scientist graced
him with a genuine smile, “That’s nice to know.”
Chuckling, he crossed
his arms over his chest, “Tell you the truth. I think Hulk put up with me the
longest. Guy doesn’t take shit off anyone, and he’s a deep thinker.”
Bruce was laughing as
the Tony from this time strolled in, “Miss the joke?”
Amused, the Doctor
nodded but switched topic all the same. “Ready for your date?”
Tony ran a nervous
had over his dress shirt, “I think so.” Stark rolled his eyes; this was going
to be a long night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unfortunately, his
prediction proved true and after one quite tension filled car ride, they were
seated in a quite, dimly lit, couple filled restaurant.
“Well,
this is terrible,” trying to hide his smile, Stark nodded in
agreement. Looking over the menu for something to do, a thought occurring to
him.
“I don’t have any
money, hope you’re paying for this Tony,” his sudden comment startling the man.
“Oh yeah, of
course.”
Steve looked at him
curious, “No money?”
“Yeah, well, the
collapse of society, money wasn’t really worth anything. Mostly run on a barter
system, trade or skills.”
“Skills?” Steve was
leaning closer to him on the table, fascinated.
“Yeah skills, anyone
with medical training kind at the top of the food chain than anyone who could
metal work or fabricate.” Tony was looking at him now.
“That’s what you, I,
do isn’t it?” It was more of a realization than a question.
“Mostly, technology
when I had down time, but mainly making things as simple as pots and pans.”
Both men were regarding him with expressions of equal parts amazement and
disbelief. Uncomfortable with all the attention, he turned back to the menu,
assuring himself that he was in no way blushing.
“Should order the most expensive dish on the menu,” his
dead Steve teased.
“I’d probably have to
put out.”
The laughter from the
dead man was overlaid with Steve’s curious voice, “Who are you talking to?”
Clearing his throat Stark
shrugged sadly, “No one.”
If the waiter thought
their situation was weird he hid it well, taking orders and disappearing with
the utmost professionalism. The future man glancing between the two, thinking
it was like being on a date with teenagers. It really was sort of sad,
frustrating and endearing.
He knew his current
self was worried about messing this up, and Steve…Steve was just old fashioned
and reserved. Conversation was completely mundane and innocent, talking about weather,
and books, and art; boring things. Stark wanted to bang their heads together.
He couldn’t complain though, the food was superb, he focused on that, allowing
the other two to talk uninterrupted.
“Why do you do that?”
Tony asked, startling him from his own little world.
“Sorry?” he was
looking at his plate, embarrassed; everything on it was cut into small pieces.
From his medium rare streak, to the baked potatoes and sautéed vegetables.
“It’s ummm…not really
dinner conversation,” he hedged eyes on his lap hoping they would let the
peculiarity go.
“He did the same last
night, taking small bites.” Steve added, smiling at him comfortingly,
questioningly.
Tony too was giving
him an understanding look, “I’d like to understand.”
Relenting, he took a
shaky breath, looking studiously at his plate. “After…afterwards, there wasn’t
much in the way of food. Things were…things got very grim for a lot of people.
The best analogy I can think of would be Russia during World War II.” Steve
flinched, understanding.
“Food was very
scarce, we lived mostly on rations. Every so often we’d luck out find
something, or when things to grow again. Whatever it was, there was always too
little and if we cut it into small pieces it always seemed to be like you were
eating more.”
It was a horrifying
story, leaving the two men ashamed they had pushed him into telling. This
mysterious man had been to hell and back. Tony was terrified this was
potentially his fate, that bleak future could be his and the worlds.
Every so often
though, there was a glimmer of something behind that good eye. He could see his
confident, over the top personality still lurking somewhere in the man. Life
had beaten him down, but he hadn’t given up yet.
“Nothing wrong with
that,” he finally managed softly.
Dinner ended, and the
tension rose once more. Tony suggested walking back to the Tower, the night
mild and clear.
Stark stepped out
behind the others, inhaling deeply, not minding the noise and pollution of the
city. It was so quite in his time, modern society vanished long ago.
“Ever
think that perhaps the world was supposed to end? Didn’t a decedent Roman
Society fall?” Stark blinked in shock at the rather grim statement.
“When did you get to
be so deep? You may be right, perhaps it’s meant to end, but not while I’m on
watch.”
The couple had moved
on, walking silently side by side, hands almost brushing. Both looking like
they wanted to say something, anything. Too scared to take that plunge. It was
time to take matters into his own hands.
Lengthening his
stride, Stark was facing them in a heartbeat. Jaw set expression grim. “You have your scary face on,” he
grunted absently in unconscious acknowledgement.
“Had enough of this,
Steve,” he reached out, taking a big warm hand with his own squeezing it
gently. Focusing on those big blue eyes, how he’d dreamed of those eyes. They
haunted his waking moments. He needed to say his piece before his throat closed
up entirely.
“I love you, Steven
Rogers. I’ve loved you for so long,” voice cracking a little, he tried to
swallow the lump down. The words pent up inside him for so long spilling forth.
Things he’d only ever imagined saying, a lifetime of hurt and regret.
“I never got to tell
you that. We never got the chance.” He shuddered; suddenly back on that debris
strewn street, holding tightly to the slowly dying Captain America.
“But I’m telling you
now, and I know I’ve got issues, probably more bad than good. I can honestly
say I have spent more than a lifetime waiting for a second chance to love you.”
He smiled, a sad, but hopeful smile that would have made a stronger man than
Captain America weep.
“I think if you give
me a chance you’ll see there is a good man buried somewhere in there. You have
always made me want to be better man. In the end, I think you did.”
The pair before him
listened in silence, not daring to move an inch. “Right, well, that needed to
be said.” He reluctantly let go of the big man’s hands, studying those
impossible eyes for a long moment before turning to his younger self. His
future still uncertain, but if he succeeded it would be a blank slate.
“Don’t fuck it up,
Stark,” he warned gravely, finally turning away.
“See you later,” he
waved, leaving them behind as he headed towards the Tower.
“Those
were beautiful things you said, love.”
“You think?”
“I
always knew you were a hopeless romantic.”
“Do you believe in
second chances? You think we have a chance?”
“I
always did.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The still silent pair
watched the man from the future depart. Steve still shocked to say the least.
Since meeting this
Tony from the future, he’d been see-sawing through emotions faster then he
would have thought possible.
“Tony?” he asked
hesitantly, turning to look at the man he’d become so familiar with. “Is that
true?”
The dark headed man
searched pleading eyes, “Every word of it. I should have said it long ago.” His
voice was a little shaky, but firm. Dark eyes defiant in his confession.
Steve wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry, instead he leaned forward,
carefully, tenderly, pressing a kiss to those lips that taunted him.
The gentle touch
chaste, and far too brief, but for both they felt it was the beginning of
something beautiful.
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