Secret Santa: 3 Rounds and a Sound - part 1/2

[cap_ironman_fe]

Happy Holidays: Memory Dragon
Title: 3 Rounds and a Sound
Rating: T
Universe: MCU
Warnings: (highlight) Apparent character death
From: fandomfrolics



Steve looked completely at peace.

The serum meant that he didn’t really have any lines to smooth out in sleep, not like Tony, whose skin was a mess of creases and tick marks of years passed. Nonetheless, Steve’s face looked strangely slack in slumber in a way it never did otherwise. He was stretched straight out on his back, his arms folded tightly against his chest as if he was huddled against the cold. Tony felt a surge of protectiveness at the guarded posture.

“Tony,” Steve murmured, nothing but his lips stirring. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re still with us,” Tony replied unabashedly. “You look like the living dead when you sleep.” He poked at Steve’s bicep.

Steve’s eyes fluttered open as he unwound himself and rolled onto his side, peering up at Tony through his long lashes. “That’s because somebody didn’t come to bed last night.”

“It was still dark when I came in. I think that technically that makes it night.”

Steve just raised an eyebrow.

“Right. Sorry. I failed in my role as Steve’s body pillow. How can I ever make it up to you?”

“Like this.” Steve hooked an arm around Tony’s hip and tugged.

Tony yelped as he fell half on top of Steve. He wriggled a little until he could tuck his head against Steve’s neck and felt Steve’s arms tighten around him in appreciation. “Better?” he mumbled into the hot skin.

“Much,” Steve replied, his low voice rumbling through Tony. He dropped a kiss on Tony’s unruly hair and sighed contentedly.

Tony hand idly traced patterns over Steve’s very solid chest as Steve’s fingers ran through his hair. The last few weeks had been exhausting to say the least, with stranger and stranger dangers threatening the city and forcing the Avengers to work overtime. Tony wasn’t sure if it was just Steve’s paranoia rubbing off on him but it felt oddly like they were building up to something big.

“I’m starving. What do you say to some breakfast?”

Tony just tightened his fingers in Steve’s t-shirt and burrowed deeper into the gap between his neck and shoulder.

Steve laughed and Tony bounced slightly with the motion of his chest, the deep rumble vibrating pleasantly through him. “How many hours of sleep did you get?”

“About two,” Tony said through a yawn. He could feel Steve’s answering frown. “Suit’s been taking a lotta hits lately, been giving it some upgrades.”

Whatever Steve’s reply was going to be disappeared beneath the blaring alarm that was their call-to-arms.

“Seriously?” Tony exclaimed as they scrambled out of bed. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Time to put those upgrades to use, Iron Man!”

***

Their target was an AIM base somewhere in the Caribbean, one that SHIELD had been watching for awhile now. Something must have tipped the AIM agents off because they sure as hell didn’t seem surprised to see them.

“You know, I really need to hire whoever designs those yellow suits. I mean, look at how useful they are.” Tony smirked as he cut the power to his thrusters, landing next to Steve with a thump. He could hear Hulk’s angry bellows somewhere in another room and the usual ensuing sounds of smashing.

“What is with you and bee things?” Steve replied through a grunt as he tossed the shield at one of the approaching attackers. “First your armor, now these outfits? I’m starting to think you have a fetish.”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t like my new armor?” Tony shot back, locking on four AIM agents and firing.

“That’s my way of saying that I think you know just how good you look in black and yellow.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony replied with a leer, which of course, Steve couldn’t see anyway. “So you like my new armor.”

“I’m just not really sure it needs to be that form-fitting.”

“What can I say? All those workouts we’ve been doing have given me something to show off. I guess our sparring sessions helped too,” he added in an afterthought.

“Keep that armor on after, I’ll show you a ‘workout’.”

“Guys, can you keep your bedroom fantasies for when you’re not on the group channel?”

“Sorry, Clint,” Steve said. He shot Tony a sly grin, even as he kicked an agent creeping up behind him. “But I don’t think it’s healthy for a man to keep his sexual desires bottled up.”

There was a sudden violent gagging sound on the comm. “What’s the situation?” Steve asked, suddenly all business.

“We’re clear here,” Natasha responded. “Just need Stark to finish the job.”

“Only if he’s clothed!” Clint yelled.

“Should I tell him I’m going commando under the suit today?”

Steve just shook his head, stifling a laugh.

They entered the next room to find more AIM agents scattered across the floor in various spots. This room was much taller than the last, stretching four storeys high with a platform running all around the edge about midway up. Tony headed straight for where Natasha was leaning up against a terminal.

“What’s going on?” he asked, flipping up his faceplate as he approached.

“Two minutes to launch.” The cool female voice echoed around the cavernous room, sounding far too calm for so ominous a sentence.

“That,” Natasha said, gesturing vaguely over the railing at the drop-off in the middle of the room. There was a strange object sitting in the middle, its glow pulsing in and out. “Doomsday device, end of the world, you know, the usual.”

“Gotcha.” Tony retracted his gauntlets and cracked his fingers.

“Does it seem weird to anyone else that there aren’t more baddies around?” Clint called from his perch up near the top of the room.

Suddenly about thirty AIM agents burst in through a door on the opposite side of the platform, followed closely by what looked liked a gigantic floating head.

“I AM MODOK!”

“Ask and ye shall receive, Hawkeye,” Steve said dryly.

“I was a mere human guinea pig for the scientists of AIM! But they did their job too well…and now…I AM THEIR MASTER!”*

“Yeah, we’ve met you overgrown bag of wind,” Clint shouted, firing an arrow pretty fruitlessly at MODOK’s head.

“Do you think AIM programmed the monologuing into him or it just came with the package?” Tony called as he continued to tap at the terminal. “Because I think-- what the hell?!”

“Iron Man?” Steve called, concern lacing his tone.

“JARVIS just went offline. He must have some kind of interference going. Don’t worry, ‘s all good,” Tony called back.

“One minute to launch.”

“Foolish humans. You cannot--”

“HULK SMASH STUPID BALL!”

“Alright, lets do this,” Tony muttered. The sound of asses being kicked provided the perfect backdrop to the finagling he needed to do. He yanked his helmet off and out of the corner of his eye, caught sight of Steve’s shield whizzing by.

A couple of seconds later, he swore. Whatever he may say about AIM and their wardrobe choices, he couldn’t deny they seemed to know what they were doing when it came to their tech. He glanced over his shoulder, down at the giant device in the middle of the room. He needed to get down there ASAP. “I need someone to--”

It happened faster than he could blink - just as he was about to take a step forward, a blur of red, white and blue shot past him. There was a streak of yellow light and a bang and suddenly there was a body flying and then…

“STEVE!”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Steve wasn’t moving. He lay slumped against the wall, collapsed like a stringless marionette.

“Thirty seconds.” The announcement was accompanied by the wind-up of an alarm that started to blare as the room flashed red.

“Goodbye, you pathetic dimwits,” MODOK crowed, blasting through a side wall.

“RRRARGHH!” Hulk roared, leaping after him.

Fuck. Okay, Steve was fine, he had to be, he was always fine.

“No!” Tony yelled, stopping Natasha in her tracks as she worked her way through the remaining agents to where Steve was. “Widow, go with the Hulk. We need MODOK alive.” Natasha nodded and abruptly turned on her heel. “Hawkeye, cover me.”

“But-”

“Clint!”

Clint nodded. Tony pulled the release on his suit - the dumb thing was really just deadweight at this point.

“What are you doing?” Clint shouted, straining to be heard over the alarm as the rest of the armor fell to the ground.

“I need to go down there,” Tony shouted back, pointing over the railing. “It’s too dangerous with the thrusters!”

He turned to the ladder and scampered down as fast as he could. Clint parked himself at the top, shooting at anyone who approached.

Tony sprinted towards the center of the device and kicked his legs out as he neared, sliding neatly underneath. “Okay, okay, let’s see.”

“Ten seconds.”

“Tony…” Clint called.

Tony dashed impatiently at the sweat creeping into his eye and tugged at a couple of more wires, ignoring the pain sparking through his fingers.

“Seven…Six…”

“Tony, you need to get out of there!”

“C’mon, c’mon,” Tony muttered to himself.

“Three…T--Launch sequence aborted.”

The room was suddenly quiet - the klaxons had ceased and there were no sounds of a scuffle from above. He let his head fall to the ground and lay there for a moment, until his pants evened out and the pounding in his ears slowed.

“Tony?” Clint called.

Steve.

Tony scrambled to his feet and climbed back up. Clint breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the top but Tony pushed past him and ran to where Steve still lay unmoving.

He dropped to his knees and raised a hand to Steve’s neck. His arm was shaking too much to find a pulse.

“Clint!” he yelled, desperation ringing out in his voice.

Clint was by his side in a second and Tony slid back, giving room for Clint’s SHIELD training to take over.

“We couldn’t get to MODOK in time.” Tony glanced up to see Natasha standing over them, Hulk hovering just behind. “We need to get back to the jet and…”

She trailed off as she caught Clint’s gaze and Tony whipped his head around, trying to catch what she’d seen on Clint’s face. “No…” he said softly. “No no no no no--”

“Tony…”

“No, Steve, come on!” Tony lunged forward and tangled his hands in Steve’s chain mail. “Wake up! Wake up, Steve! What the hell kind of super-soldier are you?”

“Tony.” Tony felt a hand tugging at his shoulder and looked up to see Bruce staring compassionately down at him.

“Bruce, thank god. He can’t be…the serum…there’s no way he could just…”

Bruce nodded wordlessly and Tony stood, letting Bruce take his place.

“You’re bleeding.” He glanced down to find Natasha poking gingerly at his forearm.

“Just a scratch,” he said distractedly, turning his attention back to the men on the ground. Bruce was hunched over Steve in a way that didn’t really give him much of a view from his vantage point.

“That is not just a scratch.” She tugged at his bicep. “Come on, let Bruce work.”

“I…”

“Tony,” she said firmly. “It’ll be easier for him if you’re not standing right there.”

Tony bit his lip but let her lead him slightly off to the side.

He sat quietly, his head a blur as Natasha dabbed at his wound. An evacuation team appeared suddenly - it seemed Clint had called them while Tony was trying to stop the doomsday device - and he snapped out of his stupor.

“What’s going on?” he cried as they circled around Steve, completely blocking his line of sight. “They don’t…that’s not a med team!”

“They’re taking him back to the Helicarrier. Which is where we’re going too so--”

“But why…no, he can’t…Steve!” Tony lunged forward, only to be caught by both Natasha and Clint. He struggled in their grip, trying desperately to get to Steve.

“Tony!” Clint yelled. “Tony, you have to let them work!”

“No I-I need to go with him! Steve!”

He fought and fought but between the two of them they managed to keep him well out of the way. And the next thing he knew…

Steve was gone.

***

Steve looked completely at peace.

Every muscle in his face was completely lax and his arms were folded across his chest, just like they had been…a day ago? A week? Tony didn’t even know anymore. Everything had been hazy since Steve had…since Tony hadn’t…

Since.

Tony stared at him, waiting for his lips to part, for him to ask why Tony was watching him sleep yet again, waiting for him to wake the fuck up c’mon this isn’t funny anymore.

Somewhere behind him, the door whooshed open.

“Tony.” Tony didn’t think he’d ever heard Clint speak so gently. “It’s not your fault, you know,” he said after a moment.

Tony just grunted, not tearing his eyes away from the body laid out on the long steel table.

“I know you’re blaming yourself, of course you are. But it’s not your damn fault.”

“Than who’s damn fault is it?” Tony hissed. He spun around on the stool and glared up at Clint. “Tell me, who the fuck do I blame?”

Tony sucked in a deep breath. “I left him,” he said softly into the tense quiet, feeling like the words were being dragged out of him. “He was hit. He was down and I just…left him."

“And if we hadn’t, thousands of other people would be dead. I was there too, remember? It’s what…it’s what he would have wanted.” Clint grasped his shoulder and squeezed. “He’d be proud of you.”

“Shut up,” Tony said, ducking out from under Clint’s hand and jumping to his feet. “Just shut up. Steve is a--was a--self-sacrificing idiot. He’s an idiot. You hear that, Steve? You’re a big fucking idiot and I’m an even bigger one for believing that--“ He wrenched his entire body away, twisting into a corner of the room, his lip caught between his teeth.

“Just…I’d like to be left alone please,” he mumbled to the wall.

He could hear Clint’s indecisive shuffle behind him but didn’t turn around until the door whooshed open again.

There was no way that there weren’t still people watching him - this was the Helicarrier and even in this state, Captain America was still one of Fury’s most prized possessions. But Tony didn’t care, not anymore. The time for masks had long past; Steve himself had seen to that, ripping them off him and tearing them to shreds so he couldn’t put them back on again.

He settled back onto the stool by Steve’s side and just stared at him for a moment.

“Look who’s finally made it to bed.”

“What, you were waiting up for me?”

“You know I don’t sleep well when you’re not here.”

“That’s because you see me as your own personal heater. You just want me for my body, don’t you?”

“Yup. Now get in here, I’m freezing.”

“You’re an idiot,” Tony whispered again. He climbed onto the table and tucked his body neatly in besides Steve’s, his head finding its usual spot against Steve’s neck. His smell - of simple soap and sweat and leather, Steve’s smell - still lingered, as if to fool Tony into believing that he was still here. Still ticking. But there was no familiar warmth, no soft pulse of a heartbeat that matched his own. This Steve was all ice, cold in a way that Steve had never wanted to be again.

Tony closed his eyes, wound his fingers in the front of Steve’s armor, and sobbed.

***

“…don’t see why it has to be him.”

“It’s what he would have done too. It’s his choice, Pepper.”

The voices were murmurs, just barely filtering through to his consciousness. Somewhere in his brain a little voice said that it was Pepper and Rhodey.

“I know but I just…I mean, look at him.”

“His choice. C’mon, he’s going on soon, we need to get him up.”

A small hand brushed his shoulder. “Tony…Tony, you need to wake up.”

Tony blinked groggily, his eyes feeling crunchy in a way he didn’t want to think about. His head was throbbing.

“The press conference is starting soon. We need to get back to the tower.”

He struggled to his feet, trying to piece together the night so he could figure out why the hell he was aching all over.

“What time is it?” He coughed slightly, trying to clear some of the hoarseness from his throat.

“Just past 7am. You’ve been asleep for about forty-five minutes.”

Forty-five minutes of sleep. Steve wasn’t going to be pleased. But really, it wasn’t his fault that Pepper scheduled these conferences so early in the morning. Seriously, what was so important that it couldn’t wait until a more human hour? What was more important then being with--

“Tony!”

Suddenly Rhodey’s hands were supporting him, holding him up as the memory hit him in the gut and doubled him over.

There would be no disappointed frowns from Steve for his lack of sleep. Nobody was going to tug on his arm to drag him back to bed with a pout, or better, a sly grin and the suggestion that work could wait twenty minutes, couldn’t it?

No, Steve was gone. Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone.

“Tony…” He looked up to find Pepper staring worriedly down at him, Rhodey hovering just behind her shoulder. Somehow he’d ended up back on the stool, his back to the table. “Are you sure you want to do this? Any of the others--”

“No. I have to…I’m the…he was my…” He swallowed. “I have to.”

Pepper glanced helplessly at Rhodey and Tony tilted his head towards him. “I have to,” he repeated softly.

Rhodey just nodded.

Tony stared at him quietly for a moment. “What am I supposed to say? I don’t know how…how do I tell the world...”

“Keep it simple. Short, to the point. They don’t need to know the details, just get the basic facts out.”

Tony nodded stiffly.

“We should really get going.” Pepper said gently. “The press conference starts at 9.”

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. “I need to not look like such a horrific mess when I go up in front of a hundred cameras.”

And without another glance at the table, he fled from the room.

***

Link to Part 2