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cap_ironman2014-01-03 07:36 pm
cap_ironman_fe) wrote in cap_ironman2014-01-03 07:36 pm
Entry tags:
Secret Santa: Peace Visits Not The Guilty Mind - part 2
Happy New Year: raikishi
Title: Peace Visits Not The Guilty Mind
Rating: M
Universe: Divergent 616
Warnings: Bones, Canon Type Violence, Angst, Steve Sulking, WIP,Canon Major Character Death(mentioned), Major Character Death(They get better), Happy Ending
Summary: Steve has come back from the dead. Now, he has to deal with what he wrought during the Civil War.
Author's Note: I owe raikishi, my profound apologizes. This fic was suppose to be under 10k in words. That didn't happen. Your prompt grabbed me up and ran. Now this is a Big Bang length fic. I couldn't get it all edited in time. As I told the mods, raikishi, if you want to read over the roughs for the missing chapters now, let me know and you can have them.
Posting Schedule for Chapters
Chapter 3 ñ 01/06/2014
Chapter 4 ñ 01/14/2014
Chapter 5 ñ 01/20/2014
I will also be putting the polished finished version up on Ao3
From: Red-nosed Rogers
Link to part 1
Depression
The door to the gym opened. Steve has not been expecting to see anyone here today, but he'd recognized the footsteps in the hall. His legs swung around in one last flair before he bent up into a handstand, facing the door. Bucky looked back at him with a bemused expression.
Steve rolled back onto his feet. Turning he gave a brief hop then dove forward both hands hitting the mat. His legs snapped up and over. As soon as his feet hit the floor he was back in the air twisting into a ball. After a full rotation he unfolded, heels first he slammed into the mat with a grin facing Bucky again. Steve always enjoyed showing off to his friends.
Bucky shook his head."I see you are still tumbling."
Steve turned and dove forward into a handspring. His hands touched the floor and feet snapped over his head and his back arched into the round out. Before the serum, Steve's balance and flexibility would never have had him even dream of doing something like this. After the serum he'd been so busy being trained to fight. But, somewhere in all of that he became aware of just how much control he now had of his body. How flexible, strong and fast it was.
The balls of his feet touched the floor and he immediately rebounded out of the round up backwards. He trusted his body now. He didn't need to look where he was going, He reached out his arms knowing when and how his had would make contact with the floor.
He could hear the shuffle of feet and the catch of fabric as Bucky leaned against the wall. While there were so many things that were a step out of sync or just plain different about Bucky now, simple things like this hadn't changed. Bucky was still willing to just watch and wait for Steve, and that was comforting.
That was what gymnastics was doing for him right now, comforting him. His hands on the floor, Steve flowed into a bridge. Steve dealt with his emotions better by venting them into physical activity, right now gymnastics was safe choice. It took control and concentration and above all it wasn't violent. He didn't trust himself enough with a punching bag, nevermind sparring.
Steve stopped in a handstand. Bucky was smiling fondly and that was something he didn't do nearly often enough these days. A warmth spread in Steve's chest chasing away some of the cold. He'd put that smile there. Steve lifted his left arm in the air balancing on his right as he teased Bucky."I know you didn't come here just to watch me."
Bucky shook his head in exasperation. "I heard you turned Director Danvers down." There was nothing accusatory in his words, but Steve's smile dropped anyway.
The mention of Carol wiped all the warmth away. Steve switched to his left hand, thrusting the memory of their conversation away. Most people didn't realize how much of your body was involved in balancing. It involved so may of your muscles all keeping your body still and making small minuet adjustments. Right now dozens of muscles were at work holding Steve's body still in position. Unfortunately, Steve was perfectly capable of thinking while they worked.
Steve lifted with his fingers until he was balanced only on his fingertips of his left hand. Increasing the difficulty didn't help his efforts to keep everything at the back of his consciousness. He forced his face to stay neutral and his tone was brisk. "I really don't want to talk about it."
He had come here to forget and bury himself into motion of his body. Not be still and contemplative.
Bucky uncrossed his arms. "Tough, because I need to know what's going through that head of yours." There was a hint of hurt in Bucky's tone as he continued. "What's this about you not taking up the shield again? You are Captain America."
Red dripped, from the metal edge as Steve stood, over crumpled red and gold. He recoiled from it, dropping his feet to mat. He rolled up to stand on his feet, like he had meant to leave the handstand that way. It hurt that Bucky of all people didn't get it. Steve took a step and then another, building momentum.
Bucky followed along the edge of the mat. Steve lunged forward, his right hand hit the mat, the left leg kicking up and over bring his left hand to the mat and finally his right leg was up and arcing over his head. Red continued to drip in from the shield in his mind. As soon as his right foot hit the mat he was arcing back hands reaching, his mind loosing itself in the flex and pull of his muscles, keeping him the line of moves straight.
Bucky paused following Steve with his eyes instead. Steve's hands contacted mat and he kept his legs moving over his head arcing forward, not bent. His feet touched down, hands left the mat and he was stretching towards the sky. His legs pushed off the mat and he was in the air, flying. His hands came to his sides as his whole body spun in the air. There was a moment, in the air, where everything fell away. He left it all behind. Then he was falling down to earth. His feet touched down and he bounced backwards.
When Steve looked at Bucky, he was studying Steve's face, searching for something. Bucky was pale and he looked worried. "Did the Red Skull do something to your head that we missed?"
Steve frowned at the reminder. The Red Skull had tried to take Steve's body trying to take it over and force Steve out. Steve fell forward rolling on the mat over and over. Before that, he'd been trapped in time, forced to relive the worse moments of his life over and over. Steve took the momentum of the last roll to come to his feet. Just thinking of that time made him feel worn, each new memory had torn something from him.
Steve arched forward into another handspring. He'd forced the Red Skull out of his mind. These feelings were all his own. "That's not it. It is not something the Red Skull did. It is me. I lost the right to the shield and the uniform the moment I brought that shield down and murdered Tony."
Revulsion twisted in Steve's gut. That was something the Red Skull would do, killing anyone who had stood in his way. The Red Skull was at least upfront about it, his allies went in knowing what he was like and the risk to their lives they were taking. Steve was worse than that. Captain America wasn't supposed to do that. It had taken once. Just once Steve couldn't take being disagreed with and he killed a man, a hero who meant so much to him and to the world.
Bucky looked at Steve considering. His voice was patient. "Steve, this is hardly the first time you've killed someone. You know it will happen again. I understand Stark was a good man and a friend, but he's just one many good men you've seen die. His death shouldn't stop you from being Cap."
Steve was bent over arms out towards his sides, hiding his face from Bucky. He kicked his legs up and into a modified handstand. The muscles in his arms had to work harder to keep his head off the floor and his body up toes pointed at the ceiling. It also had the advantage of hiding the tremors in his hands. Steve closed his eyes and steeled himself. He had to word this right.
Steve opened his eyes. "Tony wasn't just a friend. He was there when I first woke up. When I was lost and confused, he helped me put things into perspective. He was willing to stand up to me and say, 'No, you are wrong.'" Steve's stomach rolled and his muscles strained to keep him up and balanced.
"We had our disagreements, and it sometimes felt like our friendship was over. Somehow we always made up in the end. We'd sit down and talk. He'd explain why and it would make sense. I wouldn't always agree with it, but I understood it." Steve's heart was beating hard, almost painfully in his chest.
Steve's voice became a harsh whisper."When I brought that shield down, I didn't miscalculate the force needed to subdue him. I wasn't taking out an enemy combatant. I knew who Tony was and I knew it would be permanent." Steve legs bobbled to the side and muscles all over his body flexed and shifted adjusting to keep his legs and body up.
Steve's insides began to shake, and his voice dropped even lower in volume. It was a struggle to look at Bucky. "What I didn't realize was how much it would cost me."
Bucky sighed. There was pity in Bucky's eyes. "Steve..."
Before he really lost his balance, Steve brought his legs down, shifted and sat on the floor. His hand came up to rub the back of his head. When would he have to stop explaining why he was in the wrong. When would people believe him and not just dismiss it as him being noble? Explaining it over and over was so tiring.
Bucky crouched, bringing his eyes level with Steve's. "That doesn't invalidate all the good you've done and all the good you'll do in the future. You can't even comprehend the amount of blood on my hands."
Bucky looked at his hands seeing something Steve couldn't. He just looked at Bucky. Steve knew he should be saying something to comfort Bucky, but Steve's mind stuck when he tried to think what to say.
Bucky rubbed his fingers together in the silence, thinking. Eventually, he came to some decision and his head came up. This time there was no pity, no amusement. There was a glimmer of anger. "Don't treat yourself to this double standard."
Steve bent his head, lowering his gaze, seeing the past. The uncomfortable looks as he detailed that stupid plan that lead to Tony's death. How had he gone from open smiles and trust to that? Steve knew the answer to that.
Tony hand outstretched as he asked for just five minutes to explain. The raw grief in Tony's face as he asked if Steve had, had anything to do with Happy's death. So many missed opportunities for a peaceful resolution. It wasn't Tony that had gone off the rails. It was Steve himself. There were warning signs all along the way and he didn't even see them.
"If I don't trust myself, how can I expect others to trust me?"
There was disappointment and frustration on Bucky's face. Steve brought his hand up to his own hiding his despair. Bucky didn't need to be weighed down by his grief. His voice was thick with sorrow and self-recrimination. "I destroyed the best thing in my life Buck, so just drop it"
He didn't feel the warmth and energy a workout normally brought him. His limbs were weighed down with cold. The hole inside him was bottomless, filled with an ever expanding darkness. Steve brought his other hand up hiding his pain as his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth pulled down. He choked down a sob and whispered, "Just drop it."
He slumped forward, head bowed. An uncomfortable silence settled between them.
It came to an end when Steve heard the sound of Bucky shifting forward on his feet. He tensed, expecting Bucky to talk. There was a ghost of warmth on his shoulder. Then it was gone and Bucky stood. His footsteps were quiet and measured as he left.
Steve collapsed backwards his arm flung over his face. He wasn't exactly glad, but it made things easier that Bucky left. The soft choked sob escaped his throat. Silent tears streamed down the sides of his face . People just made it worse. He wanted them to go away, leave him alone.
He flung his arm out to the side letting it fell onto the mat. Blinking away tears, he stared upwards. Tony was up there in space. His remains floating among the stars. Steve should have been the one to stay dead, not Tony.
His fingers dug into the mat. He was never going to see Tony smile again. Never see Tony smirk up at him from their bed. Never again get experience to Tony sleep deprived, tousled and clinging to Steve, complaining as he dragged Tony off to bed. No one to tell Steve he was wrong. No more arguments. No more making up. Steve's fingers relaxed their grip and lay limply at his sides. There was nothing. He'd made his bed. It was an empty one.
"Yes, I know the orbit of Tony's coffin." Reed's answer was absentminded and matter-a-factually. He was much more interested in the scope he was looking through, typing out information on a keyboard and adjusting something off to the side. The fact that Reed managed all at once and didn't get confused was impressive.
Still, Steve fought down the irritation at the briefness of the answer. "Could we have the information, so we can retrieve it from orbit?"
Strrange was much more patient and was studying a diagram on the wall while he let Steve handle Reed.
Steve crossed his arms and waited. Reed just nodded to himself and stretched to look at something on another screen. The hand on the keyboard moved to note something on a whiteboard. Steve didn't bother looking at it. He could sometimes follow what Tony was doing when it came to mechanics, but he'd long since given up trying to understand Reed's projects without explanation. Sometimes even with an explanation it went over his head.
Strange looked away from the diagram he'd been studying and cleared his throat, loudly.
Reed didn't even bother to look at them; he was back looking at the scope. "Why would you want to do that?"
Reed was pretty wrapped up in his current project, but they were at least getting answers, if only one sentence at a time. Tony had always laughed when Reed got like this and gave the him a hard time. Reed was Tony's friend though, not Steve's. Interactions between Steve and Reed were different. Soon Steve hoped to hear Tony laughing at Reed again.
Fortunately, this wasn't one of the times that Reed completely shut everything out as he worked. They also didn't need anything complicated, just the location of the coffin.
With the ring and Tony's corpse, they were going to bring Tony back.
Steve kept it simple, but it was hard to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice. "We need his remains."
Reed made a soft humming noise in this throat as he manipulated something on the scope. The lights on the side turned from blue to green. His right arm stretched up to grab a container off a high shelf. He presented it to Steve without a word, still engrossed in his work.
Steve gingerly took the container. It had a decent heft to it and was an opaque cream with a snap-top lid. It rather looked like he was holding a huge Tupperware bin. Steve didn't want to open it, unsure of the contents. He looked at Dr. Strange who shrugged.
There were no markings on it to give a clue as to the contents. Steve couldn't trust that it was safe. Reed might very well expect them to already know what was inside and how to handle it safely. Steve asked,"What's this?"
Reed looked up from the scope, impatient. When his and Steve's gaze met, Reed's eyes grew sad. "Tony's remains."
Dr. Strange frowned and tapped the side of the container in disappointment. "Hrmm. Cremation will have destroyed any resonance the body might have held."
Steve's hands tightened on the container. No, it couldn't end like this, they needed to bring Tony back. Surely the container was too heavy to be just ashes. Wait, if Tony was here... "What's up in orbit?"
Reeds brows furrowed and he puzzled as he looked at Strange and Steve. "There is an LMD in orbit. Even with a select few knowing its position, it was a only matter of time until someone would find the remains. Tony didn't want anyone to get their hands on Extremis, not with its fatality rate." Reed, shaking his head, turned to correct Strange. "He wasn't cremated. Tony had Extremis set to destroy itself when there was no possibility of him surviving."
Reed's hands snaked across the room and opened the lid "All that was left in the end were his bones."
Steve froze, his muscles lock, and he blinked blankly. Reed was still looking at Strange oblivious to Steve's distress. Steve took a deep steadying breath and looked down.
The large bones erupted out of a jumble of vertebrae, ribs and the delicate bones of the hands and feet. It was all white like it had been bleached clean. Here and there gold peaked out of broken bones. All of Tony's flesh was gone yet Extremis had left the under-suit behind.
Time seemed to slow and his head throbbed as he spotted the skull, Tony's skull There wasn't much left of it. The jaw was gone, broken into pieces. The front and whole right side of the skull was gone, only the rough edges of fractured bones remained. There were no eyes to stare at him accusingly. The right eye socket had been obliterated with the rest. Only the where the left socket met with the brow and temple remained. Steve knew that his unconscious would have no trouble creating one in his dreams tonight. The pounding in his head and behind his eyes was making it hard to think.
Reed's voice, sharp and hostile, brought his attention back to the two men talking beside him. "Wait! Are you planning to use them to try and bring Tony back?" Reed's head now snaked across the room and was inches from Dr Strange's face, accusatory and oh-so-angry. "That takes dark magic. You are not tainting Tony with that."
Steve firmed his grip and stepped back, and Reed reached for the container. Dr. Strange didn't back down, his face went cold and he stared back at Reed, unafraid. "I would never use black magic to endanger Tony's soul."
Reed stopped reaching for the container and brought his head back slightly. He was still angry, but he was considering Strange's words.
Strange crossed his arms and looked down his nose at Reed. "In a recent mission, it was discovered that Tony never actually died. With that discovery it is possible to bring Tony back if we can find something with a strong enough connection," Strange finished loudly and glared at Reed.
Reed wasn't paying attention. As soon as Strange had mentioned Tony hadn't died, Reeds face had cleared, he'd stroked his chin, and started to mutter to himself. To Strange's irritation it had been while he'd still been talking. "Alternate dimension, no... I would have caught that. Time travel? No, with Stephen, it involved magic..."
The rest of Reed's body walked up and pointed at Stephen in triumph. "Soulstone." Only then did he notice Strange's glare.
Strange's glare softened, He waved a hand dismissing Reed's suggestion. "Not exactly, His spirit was caught the moment before his death. When the bounds were just starting to weaken, the caster tricked the soul into thinking a ring was the actual body. Once anchored to the ring, time was stopped, freezing at the moment before death."
Reeds eyes were now lit up, and Steve easily snagged the container lid from Reed's other hand. "That's why you want the corpse! His soul doesn't know it is dead yet. You could place him in a new body. Then his soul will settle because he's no longer in danger of dying. He'll be alive."
Strange looked bemused as Reed began to pace back and forth considering ideas. "Ashes of course would be useless, which is why you were disappointed when you though he was cremated. Why bother with his corpse?"
Steve turned and set down the container reverently. The lid snapped easily in place. Steve gently placed his hand on the container and pushed away the sound of Reed's voice. If Strange was waiting for Reed to run himself out then they'd be here awhile.
Steve looked at the container. He had been preparing himself to face a corpse. He hadn't been ready for bones. Bones that had been here all this time, in an unmarked box, ignored and uncared for. All the while Steve had thought they were in space. He should be feeling something about that, but it was just a fact sitting in Steve's head. His hand ran over the lid. Steve had them now, safe.
Steve attention snapped back to Reed with one word. "... clone?" His hand fisted on the lid. They weren't going to repeat the fiasco of Thor with Tony. Reed was shaking his head though. "No, no. That wouldn't work. It would already have a soul inhabiting it."
Strange picked up on Steve's upset and anger this time and looked at him sympathetically. Strange brought Reed's stream of consciousness to a halt with a raised hand. "His soul has been anchored to the ring for so long that we will need a physical container for the soul that has a stronger connection than the ring. The bones are probably strong enough. Forming a body around those bones will degrade that. We probably only have one chance at this, and I don't want to risk trying it until we have a strong chance of success."
Steve hefted the container now that the lid was in place. It was much lighter than Tony had been. How much heavier was it than a normal human skeleton though. Tony had been heavier after Extremis. That had been one of the many things it had changed.
Reed had stopped paced. "So we basically need to try to replicate as much as we can from right before Tony died. Would his armor help?"
Stephen considered, then shook his head. "While Tony has a lot of himself in his armors, they are separate from him. Extremis, from what I understand, was a better way to interface with the armor, but did not make the armor part of Tony ."
Reed nodded and frowned in concentration.
Once, if you needed to know what Tony looked like unclothed, Steve could of drawn him in detail from any angle. Now, he couldn't pull a solid image of Tony's body. It was mash in his head. Steve had dragged Tony to bed as soon as he saw him after the horrifying battle that had resulted in Tony injecting himself with Extremis. Tony laughed and petted Steve as he checked and checked for any injury. Tony had pulled him up and kissed him, telling him it would all be okay.
Steve was ashamed of himself for concentrating on what he thought was wrong with Tony rather than exploring and memorizing who he had become. There was no way he could provide Strange with accurate detailed drawings of what Tony had looked like when he died. Strange had tried to reassure Steve that they didn't need the drawings for the ritual, Steve didn't believe him.
Steve and Tony had, had just those few nights together after Extremis. It probably knew Tony's physical body more than anything or anyone, it had rebuilt Tony from the ground up.
Steve sighed. "It is a shame that Extremis destroyed itself. It knew Tony's body down to the cellular level."
Both Dr. Strange and Reed turned to look at Steve with twin looks of consideration. Steve tightened his grip on the container defensively.
Reed eagerly turned to Dr. Strange. "Would building him a body down to the cellar level work?"
Steve's brow furrowed. "I thought you said Extremis was destroyed."
Reed's waved a hand at Steve and concentrated on Strange. "Oh, it was. Tony was quite thorough about it. But, the creator, Maya Hansen, is still alive and well. She was a friend of his, so it should be easy enough to ask her to help.
Stephen tipped his head to the side, thinking. "If it was closer to when his spirit was detached, but Tony got Extremis months before then. I don--"
Reed cut in. "Tony went to Maya and had Extremis rewritten to remove an implant from his brain. That was right before SHRA. With my help, she should have no problem replicating it."
Stephen looked skeptical. "That would be better, but still--
Reed plowed on. "We could probably modify it to use his existing bones without breaking them down and rebuilding them." He waited eagerly to hear Strange's response.
Strange looked hopeful. "Between the physical similarity of the body and the impressions in the bones." He started nodding. "That actually might work." Strange looked at Steve. "With having his killer as well, I think it will work quite well indeed."
Steve tried not to flinch. Hearing someone put it that plainly was a shock even now. Steve found himself clutching the container to his chest. Strange noticed the moment and put a hand on Steve's shoulder apologetically.
Despite the hurt, it made this all more real. With Strange's confidence and Reed optimism, this really looked like it was going to happen. Up to this point Steve had quite believed it. He had not given any thought of what would happen after. Tony death hadn't been clean and he had died thinking Steve hated him. Steve had to make things right somehow.
Reed was already setting things in motion. "I'll talk to Carol and get in to see Maya and find out if she can help."
* * *
Dr. Hansen had wanted to study the under-armor still in the bones and figure out why it was still around. Steve had barred her from any access to the bones after she talked about cutting some of the bones open to get a more detailed look. Steve's jaw muscles flexed just thinking about it. She'd finally stopped asking when Strange explained they wanted the bones to have the same injuries. Adding more would reduce the chances of success. Strange hadn't argued when Steve decide to repair them himself. Reed had been skeptical of Steve's ability to do it right. Strange had merely handed Steve a book of skeletal diagrams and a bottle of paste.
Steve strongly suspect the paste was magic despite coming from Reed. It didn't dry or stick until he had the pieces in place and then they never slid out of place. It was wonderful to work with. The repair of the bones of the skeleton would be so much harder without it.
Steve had saved the skull for last. It required the most detailed work and had taken the most damage. Steve hadn't broken the rest of Tony's armor. As a result, the other bones had been protected and easy to repair. Steve tried to not dwell it. It made a good explanation for why Steve had been putting off repair the skull.
The real reason Steve has saved it for last were his nightmares. It was one thing to have imagination fueled dreams of Tony's crushed and savaged head. It was another to actually touch it and see the reality of the blows and the actual damage that was done.
The jaw was the easiest. The left side was intact and the right had four fractures to repair. Steve looked at the bone when it was assembled. Steve let out a sad exhale. There was nothing familiar there. Some part of Steve had thought he'd at least recognize the shape of it. He ran his thumb over it lightly as he studied it, trying to find that connection. The move of his thumb back and forth was a strangely comfortable feeling.
Steve stopped and looked down at his thumb. He hesitantly closed his eyes. Nervously he ran his fingers across the line of the jaw. His breath caught. His fingers steadied and changed to giving a slowly, gently caress. There was the connection. The catch of Tony's beard as Steve pulled Tony up for a kiss and the shift of skin as Tony talked was missing. But, curve and breadth of it. That was distinctly Tony.
Steve opened his eyes and set Tony's jaw down gently in the tray to his left. According to Strange's books, the skull was made up of twenty-four separate bones. The jaw or mandible was just one of them. Twenty-three more to go.
A small sad smile lifted Steve's lip as he gathered up a small bit of paste on his brush.. He wasn't assembling the bones of the dead. Tony wasn't dead. He just needed a body. Steve picked up the largest piece of Maxillae. Tony's left upper lip would have cover this piece. Even with his eyes closed he couldn't feel any familiarity there. Tony hadn't let Steve dwell there long anyway. Steve would always end up with a mischievous mouth engulfing his fingers or gentle kisses on his fingertips.
Steve kept his eyes locked on the bone as he carefully fit piece after place. Steve placed the left Maxilla gently in the same tray as the jaw. Each Maxilla was the base of half of the front of Tony's face. The cheeks, eyes and forehead were different bones. The right maxilla was placed gently in next to the left.
Steve rubbed his eyes. They hurt, but with a few blinks he was ready to continue. He had to use a set of tweezers to put the tiny pieces that had broken off the top of the nasal bones back in place. It took a few tries. His hands had been shaking until taken a deep breath and steadied them.
Steve ran one fingertip down the top slant of the bone despite knowing he'd find nothing there. His eyes widened he'd been wrong. That was the little dip at the top of Tony's nose. Where Tony would pinch it when he was particular frustrated or tired. A tiny quiver started up in Steve's stomach. He carefully place the nasal bone next to the maxillae. His hand hovered over the maxilla uncertain. Did her really need to check to see the roof of the mouth felt the same?
He caved and picked them up, and held them together with one hand. He closed his eyes and with his other hand he stroked what would become the roof of Tony's mouth with his finger. Steve smiled and opened his eyes. There was his Tony.
Steve assembled the Vomer, left and right Palatine Bones, Ethmoid, two Inferior Nasal Conchae and both Lacrimal Bones. These were the ones that were shattered into fragments as his shield had plowed though Tony's face. He was positive the paste was magic now. It didn't clog or fill any of the delicate chambers, groves and holes that laced the bones. He forced himself not to linger over them.
Steve wouldn't be able to find Tony in those. He'd never been able to touch there before. Steve bowed his head and rubbed his eyes again. What was he thinking? These were the inner workings of Tony's head. Not something to be thinking of stroking and memorizing the lines. Steve shook the thoughts from his head.
He'd do the Frontal Bone next. The right side was caved in from his second blow. Steve blinked a few times and let out a careful breath, expelling the feel of the brief pause before it had given way to the shield. He gathered up the missing pieces of bone. As he rebuilt the top of Tony's right eye socket and brow, his hand stroked up and down. There was no trouble finding Tony here. The slope of the forehead was the same. Finished, Steve held it up, gazing at it. That was definitely Tony's forehead. Steve could even pin point where his hair line started.
Steve carefully checked over the Parietal Bones next. The top and back part of the skull had survived unscathed. Holding them up Steve knew why. They both had been protected by the remains of Tony's helmet. Steve patted them both as he moved them to the repaired tray. Even partially shattered, Tony's armor had protected him.
The left Temporal Bone was intact. He ran his hands over it. Then he slowed and felt it carefully The quivering in his stomach intensified insistently the longer it took him. Finally, he found Tony. There was that spot behind his ear which would make Tony squirm when he scratched it oh so lightly. Steve blinked his eyes as he placed it done on the tray. The right Temporal bone was easy enough to piece together. The quivering subsided to quiet little tremors and he worked. Finished Steve smiled and gently scratched behind Tony's ear.
Steve assembled the Sphenoid next. He blinked his eyes as he worked. They were starting to hurt again. Much of the Sphenoid was hidden inside the skull. Steve tracked down all the shards and fragments and pieced it together. He settled it on the finished tray satisfied with a job well done.
Steve closed his eyes and leaned back stretching. Even a super soldier felt if he stayed still for hours on end. Stepping away from the table he grabbed a water and looked at his progress. Only three bones left then it would be time to assemble it. The bottle paused on his lip. It hadn't registered to him before, but looking at it all laid out it became obvious. Steve had left finishing the nap of the neck, the eye sockets and cheeks for last.
This time when he blinked his eyes weren't dry. Steve had always had a thing for Tony's cheeks. Steve took another drink. Well he didn't like them when they became sunken because that meant Tony wasn't eating or hydrating. After the Raft break out, that hadn't been so much an issue. Those cheeks had become his to kiss and touch. Tony had smiled more and ate more. And he'd spent more time in bed, if not necessarily sleeping.
Steve put the bottle aside and sat back down at the table. The Occipital Bone was fine. He should have put it over with the others earlier. He picked up adjusted it and his eyes began to tear up. Right, that would be why he hadn't. It was like cupping Tony's head. Except there was no weight and there was nothing there. There wasn't anyone to pulling for a kiss. Hands trembling, he put it carefully down with the others.
Steve put his hands on the table, sighed and forced himself to relax.
Like many of the bones from the left side of Tony's head, the left Zygomatic Bone was mostly intact. There was one piece broken off which was easily pasted back on. Steve resisted running his fingers over it. He quickly, gently set it aside. The right had born the brunt of the first blow. He wasn't crying, but he had to stop and blink to clear his vision. Steve set this one aside untouched as well.
Twenty-four bones repaired and ready to be pieced together to form a skull. Steve rubbed his hands over his head settling with his face buried in them. He ha wanted to do this. Fix the damage he'd caused. This was the first step towards making amends to Tony. Steve had no illusions of his actions ever being forgotten, but maybe if he tried hard enough and did enough, Tony would forgive him.
Raising his head, Steve let out another deep breath, shook out his hands and picked up the brush and started assembling. First he pieced together the bones that made up face of the skull. Steve looked down at the partially assembled skull in his hand. He'd not attached the Frontal Bone yet, so the eye sockets were incomplete, but the rest of Tony's face was there.
Steve still couldn't see Tony though. Steve drew in a harsh breath and closed his eyes. He couldn't resist. Steve gently ran his thumb over the right cheek bone. He swallowed. The tan skin, blue eyes and the quirk of his mouth weren't in evidence, but he could feel Tony there. His breath caught in his throat. From his memory came the feel of a soft kiss to his palm. Steve's eyes shot open. There was just bones in front of him.
He looked down sadly. This wasn't really Tony. He was just chasing memories. Tony was caught in a ring, not residing in these bones. Steve's shoulders squared ñ not residing in them yet. That was going to change. Blood and tissue would wrap around bone, Tony would be freed from the ring, his eyes would open and...
Steve ran his hand through his hair. He wasn't sure what would happen. Steve picked up the Left Parietal bone and continued the slotting bones together. He had his hopes and fears. Tony would forgive him and take him back or perhaps when those eyes opened there would be nothing but hate left. What happened next would be up to Tony, but this time it would be different. Steve was determined that he'd be the one to come to the table first. Before it was always Tony who came and explained and Steve who forgave. He just hoped Tony would listen and forgive Steve.
The skull sat in front of him finished. Steve avoid looking at it, nervous about what he might see. He put the trays away and placed the top on the paste. Steve's stomach was twisting so bad it ached. He stood, grabbed the brushes and headed to the sink.
He turned the water on and placed the first brush under the stream. His fingers carefully brushed the bristles. Letting the water reach and remove ever bit of paste. He blotted the brush dry and moved to the next. The feel of the bristles under his fingers and the familiarity of the action settled Steve. He was still shaky inside, but he felt in control. Squaring his shoulder, he turned to look at the table.
Steve's muscles relaxed. On the table sat a skull, nothing else. Its sockets were empty. He's not sure what he expected. There was no judgment or recriminations. Steve went over and picked up the skull. Cradling it.
"I'll fix this Tony and then we'll talk. Really talk. Not just putting things aside and moving forward. This can't happen again." Steve ran hand over the right cheekbone and up over the top of the skull. The words stuck in his throat. Steve swallowed and tried again. "I can't lose you again."
"We've got to work something out so thing will go differently next time." Steve place the skull gently into the container reluctant to let go. "Because I know we'll come into conflict again."
Steve closed the container and rested his hands on top. His voice was harsh. "I won't let anything drive us apart next time."
Title: Peace Visits Not The Guilty Mind
Rating: M
Universe: Divergent 616
Warnings: Bones, Canon Type Violence, Angst, Steve Sulking, WIP,
Summary: Steve has come back from the dead. Now, he has to deal with what he wrought during the Civil War.
Author's Note: I owe raikishi, my profound apologizes. This fic was suppose to be under 10k in words. That didn't happen. Your prompt grabbed me up and ran. Now this is a Big Bang length fic. I couldn't get it all edited in time. As I told the mods, raikishi, if you want to read over the roughs for the missing chapters now, let me know and you can have them.
Chapter 3 ñ 01/06/2014
Chapter 4 ñ 01/14/2014
Chapter 5 ñ 01/20/2014
I will also be putting the polished finished version up on Ao3
From: Red-nosed Rogers
Link to part 1
The door to the gym opened. Steve has not been expecting to see anyone here today, but he'd recognized the footsteps in the hall. His legs swung around in one last flair before he bent up into a handstand, facing the door. Bucky looked back at him with a bemused expression.
Steve rolled back onto his feet. Turning he gave a brief hop then dove forward both hands hitting the mat. His legs snapped up and over. As soon as his feet hit the floor he was back in the air twisting into a ball. After a full rotation he unfolded, heels first he slammed into the mat with a grin facing Bucky again. Steve always enjoyed showing off to his friends.
Bucky shook his head."I see you are still tumbling."
Steve turned and dove forward into a handspring. His hands touched the floor and feet snapped over his head and his back arched into the round out. Before the serum, Steve's balance and flexibility would never have had him even dream of doing something like this. After the serum he'd been so busy being trained to fight. But, somewhere in all of that he became aware of just how much control he now had of his body. How flexible, strong and fast it was.
The balls of his feet touched the floor and he immediately rebounded out of the round up backwards. He trusted his body now. He didn't need to look where he was going, He reached out his arms knowing when and how his had would make contact with the floor.
He could hear the shuffle of feet and the catch of fabric as Bucky leaned against the wall. While there were so many things that were a step out of sync or just plain different about Bucky now, simple things like this hadn't changed. Bucky was still willing to just watch and wait for Steve, and that was comforting.
That was what gymnastics was doing for him right now, comforting him. His hands on the floor, Steve flowed into a bridge. Steve dealt with his emotions better by venting them into physical activity, right now gymnastics was safe choice. It took control and concentration and above all it wasn't violent. He didn't trust himself enough with a punching bag, nevermind sparring.
Steve stopped in a handstand. Bucky was smiling fondly and that was something he didn't do nearly often enough these days. A warmth spread in Steve's chest chasing away some of the cold. He'd put that smile there. Steve lifted his left arm in the air balancing on his right as he teased Bucky."I know you didn't come here just to watch me."
Bucky shook his head in exasperation. "I heard you turned Director Danvers down." There was nothing accusatory in his words, but Steve's smile dropped anyway.
The mention of Carol wiped all the warmth away. Steve switched to his left hand, thrusting the memory of their conversation away. Most people didn't realize how much of your body was involved in balancing. It involved so may of your muscles all keeping your body still and making small minuet adjustments. Right now dozens of muscles were at work holding Steve's body still in position. Unfortunately, Steve was perfectly capable of thinking while they worked.
Steve lifted with his fingers until he was balanced only on his fingertips of his left hand. Increasing the difficulty didn't help his efforts to keep everything at the back of his consciousness. He forced his face to stay neutral and his tone was brisk. "I really don't want to talk about it."
He had come here to forget and bury himself into motion of his body. Not be still and contemplative.
Bucky uncrossed his arms. "Tough, because I need to know what's going through that head of yours." There was a hint of hurt in Bucky's tone as he continued. "What's this about you not taking up the shield again? You are Captain America."
Red dripped, from the metal edge as Steve stood, over crumpled red and gold. He recoiled from it, dropping his feet to mat. He rolled up to stand on his feet, like he had meant to leave the handstand that way. It hurt that Bucky of all people didn't get it. Steve took a step and then another, building momentum.
Bucky followed along the edge of the mat. Steve lunged forward, his right hand hit the mat, the left leg kicking up and over bring his left hand to the mat and finally his right leg was up and arcing over his head. Red continued to drip in from the shield in his mind. As soon as his right foot hit the mat he was arcing back hands reaching, his mind loosing itself in the flex and pull of his muscles, keeping him the line of moves straight.
Bucky paused following Steve with his eyes instead. Steve's hands contacted mat and he kept his legs moving over his head arcing forward, not bent. His feet touched down, hands left the mat and he was stretching towards the sky. His legs pushed off the mat and he was in the air, flying. His hands came to his sides as his whole body spun in the air. There was a moment, in the air, where everything fell away. He left it all behind. Then he was falling down to earth. His feet touched down and he bounced backwards.
When Steve looked at Bucky, he was studying Steve's face, searching for something. Bucky was pale and he looked worried. "Did the Red Skull do something to your head that we missed?"
Steve frowned at the reminder. The Red Skull had tried to take Steve's body trying to take it over and force Steve out. Steve fell forward rolling on the mat over and over. Before that, he'd been trapped in time, forced to relive the worse moments of his life over and over. Steve took the momentum of the last roll to come to his feet. Just thinking of that time made him feel worn, each new memory had torn something from him.
Steve arched forward into another handspring. He'd forced the Red Skull out of his mind. These feelings were all his own. "That's not it. It is not something the Red Skull did. It is me. I lost the right to the shield and the uniform the moment I brought that shield down and murdered Tony."
Revulsion twisted in Steve's gut. That was something the Red Skull would do, killing anyone who had stood in his way. The Red Skull was at least upfront about it, his allies went in knowing what he was like and the risk to their lives they were taking. Steve was worse than that. Captain America wasn't supposed to do that. It had taken once. Just once Steve couldn't take being disagreed with and he killed a man, a hero who meant so much to him and to the world.
Bucky looked at Steve considering. His voice was patient. "Steve, this is hardly the first time you've killed someone. You know it will happen again. I understand Stark was a good man and a friend, but he's just one many good men you've seen die. His death shouldn't stop you from being Cap."
Steve was bent over arms out towards his sides, hiding his face from Bucky. He kicked his legs up and into a modified handstand. The muscles in his arms had to work harder to keep his head off the floor and his body up toes pointed at the ceiling. It also had the advantage of hiding the tremors in his hands. Steve closed his eyes and steeled himself. He had to word this right.
Steve opened his eyes. "Tony wasn't just a friend. He was there when I first woke up. When I was lost and confused, he helped me put things into perspective. He was willing to stand up to me and say, 'No, you are wrong.'" Steve's stomach rolled and his muscles strained to keep him up and balanced.
"We had our disagreements, and it sometimes felt like our friendship was over. Somehow we always made up in the end. We'd sit down and talk. He'd explain why and it would make sense. I wouldn't always agree with it, but I understood it." Steve's heart was beating hard, almost painfully in his chest.
Steve's voice became a harsh whisper."When I brought that shield down, I didn't miscalculate the force needed to subdue him. I wasn't taking out an enemy combatant. I knew who Tony was and I knew it would be permanent." Steve legs bobbled to the side and muscles all over his body flexed and shifted adjusting to keep his legs and body up.
Steve's insides began to shake, and his voice dropped even lower in volume. It was a struggle to look at Bucky. "What I didn't realize was how much it would cost me."
Bucky sighed. There was pity in Bucky's eyes. "Steve..."
Before he really lost his balance, Steve brought his legs down, shifted and sat on the floor. His hand came up to rub the back of his head. When would he have to stop explaining why he was in the wrong. When would people believe him and not just dismiss it as him being noble? Explaining it over and over was so tiring.
Bucky crouched, bringing his eyes level with Steve's. "That doesn't invalidate all the good you've done and all the good you'll do in the future. You can't even comprehend the amount of blood on my hands."
Bucky looked at his hands seeing something Steve couldn't. He just looked at Bucky. Steve knew he should be saying something to comfort Bucky, but Steve's mind stuck when he tried to think what to say.
Bucky rubbed his fingers together in the silence, thinking. Eventually, he came to some decision and his head came up. This time there was no pity, no amusement. There was a glimmer of anger. "Don't treat yourself to this double standard."
Steve bent his head, lowering his gaze, seeing the past. The uncomfortable looks as he detailed that stupid plan that lead to Tony's death. How had he gone from open smiles and trust to that? Steve knew the answer to that.
Tony hand outstretched as he asked for just five minutes to explain. The raw grief in Tony's face as he asked if Steve had, had anything to do with Happy's death. So many missed opportunities for a peaceful resolution. It wasn't Tony that had gone off the rails. It was Steve himself. There were warning signs all along the way and he didn't even see them.
"If I don't trust myself, how can I expect others to trust me?"
There was disappointment and frustration on Bucky's face. Steve brought his hand up to his own hiding his despair. Bucky didn't need to be weighed down by his grief. His voice was thick with sorrow and self-recrimination. "I destroyed the best thing in my life Buck, so just drop it"
He didn't feel the warmth and energy a workout normally brought him. His limbs were weighed down with cold. The hole inside him was bottomless, filled with an ever expanding darkness. Steve brought his other hand up hiding his pain as his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth pulled down. He choked down a sob and whispered, "Just drop it."
He slumped forward, head bowed. An uncomfortable silence settled between them.
It came to an end when Steve heard the sound of Bucky shifting forward on his feet. He tensed, expecting Bucky to talk. There was a ghost of warmth on his shoulder. Then it was gone and Bucky stood. His footsteps were quiet and measured as he left.
Steve collapsed backwards his arm flung over his face. He wasn't exactly glad, but it made things easier that Bucky left. The soft choked sob escaped his throat. Silent tears streamed down the sides of his face . People just made it worse. He wanted them to go away, leave him alone.
He flung his arm out to the side letting it fell onto the mat. Blinking away tears, he stared upwards. Tony was up there in space. His remains floating among the stars. Steve should have been the one to stay dead, not Tony.
His fingers dug into the mat. He was never going to see Tony smile again. Never see Tony smirk up at him from their bed. Never again get experience to Tony sleep deprived, tousled and clinging to Steve, complaining as he dragged Tony off to bed. No one to tell Steve he was wrong. No more arguments. No more making up. Steve's fingers relaxed their grip and lay limply at his sides. There was nothing. He'd made his bed. It was an empty one.
"Yes, I know the orbit of Tony's coffin." Reed's answer was absentminded and matter-a-factually. He was much more interested in the scope he was looking through, typing out information on a keyboard and adjusting something off to the side. The fact that Reed managed all at once and didn't get confused was impressive.
Still, Steve fought down the irritation at the briefness of the answer. "Could we have the information, so we can retrieve it from orbit?"
Strrange was much more patient and was studying a diagram on the wall while he let Steve handle Reed.
Steve crossed his arms and waited. Reed just nodded to himself and stretched to look at something on another screen. The hand on the keyboard moved to note something on a whiteboard. Steve didn't bother looking at it. He could sometimes follow what Tony was doing when it came to mechanics, but he'd long since given up trying to understand Reed's projects without explanation. Sometimes even with an explanation it went over his head.
Strange looked away from the diagram he'd been studying and cleared his throat, loudly.
Reed didn't even bother to look at them; he was back looking at the scope. "Why would you want to do that?"
Reed was pretty wrapped up in his current project, but they were at least getting answers, if only one sentence at a time. Tony had always laughed when Reed got like this and gave the him a hard time. Reed was Tony's friend though, not Steve's. Interactions between Steve and Reed were different. Soon Steve hoped to hear Tony laughing at Reed again.
Fortunately, this wasn't one of the times that Reed completely shut everything out as he worked. They also didn't need anything complicated, just the location of the coffin.
With the ring and Tony's corpse, they were going to bring Tony back.
Steve kept it simple, but it was hard to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice. "We need his remains."
Reed made a soft humming noise in this throat as he manipulated something on the scope. The lights on the side turned from blue to green. His right arm stretched up to grab a container off a high shelf. He presented it to Steve without a word, still engrossed in his work.
Steve gingerly took the container. It had a decent heft to it and was an opaque cream with a snap-top lid. It rather looked like he was holding a huge Tupperware bin. Steve didn't want to open it, unsure of the contents. He looked at Dr. Strange who shrugged.
There were no markings on it to give a clue as to the contents. Steve couldn't trust that it was safe. Reed might very well expect them to already know what was inside and how to handle it safely. Steve asked,"What's this?"
Reed looked up from the scope, impatient. When his and Steve's gaze met, Reed's eyes grew sad. "Tony's remains."
Dr. Strange frowned and tapped the side of the container in disappointment. "Hrmm. Cremation will have destroyed any resonance the body might have held."
Steve's hands tightened on the container. No, it couldn't end like this, they needed to bring Tony back. Surely the container was too heavy to be just ashes. Wait, if Tony was here... "What's up in orbit?"
Reeds brows furrowed and he puzzled as he looked at Strange and Steve. "There is an LMD in orbit. Even with a select few knowing its position, it was a only matter of time until someone would find the remains. Tony didn't want anyone to get their hands on Extremis, not with its fatality rate." Reed, shaking his head, turned to correct Strange. "He wasn't cremated. Tony had Extremis set to destroy itself when there was no possibility of him surviving."
Reed's hands snaked across the room and opened the lid "All that was left in the end were his bones."
Steve froze, his muscles lock, and he blinked blankly. Reed was still looking at Strange oblivious to Steve's distress. Steve took a deep steadying breath and looked down.
The large bones erupted out of a jumble of vertebrae, ribs and the delicate bones of the hands and feet. It was all white like it had been bleached clean. Here and there gold peaked out of broken bones. All of Tony's flesh was gone yet Extremis had left the under-suit behind.
Time seemed to slow and his head throbbed as he spotted the skull, Tony's skull There wasn't much left of it. The jaw was gone, broken into pieces. The front and whole right side of the skull was gone, only the rough edges of fractured bones remained. There were no eyes to stare at him accusingly. The right eye socket had been obliterated with the rest. Only the where the left socket met with the brow and temple remained. Steve knew that his unconscious would have no trouble creating one in his dreams tonight. The pounding in his head and behind his eyes was making it hard to think.
Reed's voice, sharp and hostile, brought his attention back to the two men talking beside him. "Wait! Are you planning to use them to try and bring Tony back?" Reed's head now snaked across the room and was inches from Dr Strange's face, accusatory and oh-so-angry. "That takes dark magic. You are not tainting Tony with that."
Steve firmed his grip and stepped back, and Reed reached for the container. Dr. Strange didn't back down, his face went cold and he stared back at Reed, unafraid. "I would never use black magic to endanger Tony's soul."
Reed stopped reaching for the container and brought his head back slightly. He was still angry, but he was considering Strange's words.
Strange crossed his arms and looked down his nose at Reed. "In a recent mission, it was discovered that Tony never actually died. With that discovery it is possible to bring Tony back if we can find something with a strong enough connection," Strange finished loudly and glared at Reed.
Reed wasn't paying attention. As soon as Strange had mentioned Tony hadn't died, Reeds face had cleared, he'd stroked his chin, and started to mutter to himself. To Strange's irritation it had been while he'd still been talking. "Alternate dimension, no... I would have caught that. Time travel? No, with Stephen, it involved magic..."
The rest of Reed's body walked up and pointed at Stephen in triumph. "Soulstone." Only then did he notice Strange's glare.
Strange's glare softened, He waved a hand dismissing Reed's suggestion. "Not exactly, His spirit was caught the moment before his death. When the bounds were just starting to weaken, the caster tricked the soul into thinking a ring was the actual body. Once anchored to the ring, time was stopped, freezing at the moment before death."
Reeds eyes were now lit up, and Steve easily snagged the container lid from Reed's other hand. "That's why you want the corpse! His soul doesn't know it is dead yet. You could place him in a new body. Then his soul will settle because he's no longer in danger of dying. He'll be alive."
Strange looked bemused as Reed began to pace back and forth considering ideas. "Ashes of course would be useless, which is why you were disappointed when you though he was cremated. Why bother with his corpse?"
Steve turned and set down the container reverently. The lid snapped easily in place. Steve gently placed his hand on the container and pushed away the sound of Reed's voice. If Strange was waiting for Reed to run himself out then they'd be here awhile.
Steve looked at the container. He had been preparing himself to face a corpse. He hadn't been ready for bones. Bones that had been here all this time, in an unmarked box, ignored and uncared for. All the while Steve had thought they were in space. He should be feeling something about that, but it was just a fact sitting in Steve's head. His hand ran over the lid. Steve had them now, safe.
Steve attention snapped back to Reed with one word. "... clone?" His hand fisted on the lid. They weren't going to repeat the fiasco of Thor with Tony. Reed was shaking his head though. "No, no. That wouldn't work. It would already have a soul inhabiting it."
Strange picked up on Steve's upset and anger this time and looked at him sympathetically. Strange brought Reed's stream of consciousness to a halt with a raised hand. "His soul has been anchored to the ring for so long that we will need a physical container for the soul that has a stronger connection than the ring. The bones are probably strong enough. Forming a body around those bones will degrade that. We probably only have one chance at this, and I don't want to risk trying it until we have a strong chance of success."
Steve hefted the container now that the lid was in place. It was much lighter than Tony had been. How much heavier was it than a normal human skeleton though. Tony had been heavier after Extremis. That had been one of the many things it had changed.
Reed had stopped paced. "So we basically need to try to replicate as much as we can from right before Tony died. Would his armor help?"
Stephen considered, then shook his head. "While Tony has a lot of himself in his armors, they are separate from him. Extremis, from what I understand, was a better way to interface with the armor, but did not make the armor part of Tony ."
Reed nodded and frowned in concentration.
Once, if you needed to know what Tony looked like unclothed, Steve could of drawn him in detail from any angle. Now, he couldn't pull a solid image of Tony's body. It was mash in his head. Steve had dragged Tony to bed as soon as he saw him after the horrifying battle that had resulted in Tony injecting himself with Extremis. Tony laughed and petted Steve as he checked and checked for any injury. Tony had pulled him up and kissed him, telling him it would all be okay.
Steve was ashamed of himself for concentrating on what he thought was wrong with Tony rather than exploring and memorizing who he had become. There was no way he could provide Strange with accurate detailed drawings of what Tony had looked like when he died. Strange had tried to reassure Steve that they didn't need the drawings for the ritual, Steve didn't believe him.
Steve and Tony had, had just those few nights together after Extremis. It probably knew Tony's physical body more than anything or anyone, it had rebuilt Tony from the ground up.
Steve sighed. "It is a shame that Extremis destroyed itself. It knew Tony's body down to the cellular level."
Both Dr. Strange and Reed turned to look at Steve with twin looks of consideration. Steve tightened his grip on the container defensively.
Reed eagerly turned to Dr. Strange. "Would building him a body down to the cellar level work?"
Steve's brow furrowed. "I thought you said Extremis was destroyed."
Reed's waved a hand at Steve and concentrated on Strange. "Oh, it was. Tony was quite thorough about it. But, the creator, Maya Hansen, is still alive and well. She was a friend of his, so it should be easy enough to ask her to help.
Stephen tipped his head to the side, thinking. "If it was closer to when his spirit was detached, but Tony got Extremis months before then. I don--"
Reed cut in. "Tony went to Maya and had Extremis rewritten to remove an implant from his brain. That was right before SHRA. With my help, she should have no problem replicating it."
Stephen looked skeptical. "That would be better, but still--
Reed plowed on. "We could probably modify it to use his existing bones without breaking them down and rebuilding them." He waited eagerly to hear Strange's response.
Strange looked hopeful. "Between the physical similarity of the body and the impressions in the bones." He started nodding. "That actually might work." Strange looked at Steve. "With having his killer as well, I think it will work quite well indeed."
Steve tried not to flinch. Hearing someone put it that plainly was a shock even now. Steve found himself clutching the container to his chest. Strange noticed the moment and put a hand on Steve's shoulder apologetically.
Despite the hurt, it made this all more real. With Strange's confidence and Reed optimism, this really looked like it was going to happen. Up to this point Steve had quite believed it. He had not given any thought of what would happen after. Tony death hadn't been clean and he had died thinking Steve hated him. Steve had to make things right somehow.
Reed was already setting things in motion. "I'll talk to Carol and get in to see Maya and find out if she can help."
Dr. Hansen had wanted to study the under-armor still in the bones and figure out why it was still around. Steve had barred her from any access to the bones after she talked about cutting some of the bones open to get a more detailed look. Steve's jaw muscles flexed just thinking about it. She'd finally stopped asking when Strange explained they wanted the bones to have the same injuries. Adding more would reduce the chances of success. Strange hadn't argued when Steve decide to repair them himself. Reed had been skeptical of Steve's ability to do it right. Strange had merely handed Steve a book of skeletal diagrams and a bottle of paste.
Steve strongly suspect the paste was magic despite coming from Reed. It didn't dry or stick until he had the pieces in place and then they never slid out of place. It was wonderful to work with. The repair of the bones of the skeleton would be so much harder without it.
Steve had saved the skull for last. It required the most detailed work and had taken the most damage. Steve hadn't broken the rest of Tony's armor. As a result, the other bones had been protected and easy to repair. Steve tried to not dwell it. It made a good explanation for why Steve had been putting off repair the skull.
The real reason Steve has saved it for last were his nightmares. It was one thing to have imagination fueled dreams of Tony's crushed and savaged head. It was another to actually touch it and see the reality of the blows and the actual damage that was done.
The jaw was the easiest. The left side was intact and the right had four fractures to repair. Steve looked at the bone when it was assembled. Steve let out a sad exhale. There was nothing familiar there. Some part of Steve had thought he'd at least recognize the shape of it. He ran his thumb over it lightly as he studied it, trying to find that connection. The move of his thumb back and forth was a strangely comfortable feeling.
Steve stopped and looked down at his thumb. He hesitantly closed his eyes. Nervously he ran his fingers across the line of the jaw. His breath caught. His fingers steadied and changed to giving a slowly, gently caress. There was the connection. The catch of Tony's beard as Steve pulled Tony up for a kiss and the shift of skin as Tony talked was missing. But, curve and breadth of it. That was distinctly Tony.
Steve opened his eyes and set Tony's jaw down gently in the tray to his left. According to Strange's books, the skull was made up of twenty-four separate bones. The jaw or mandible was just one of them. Twenty-three more to go.
A small sad smile lifted Steve's lip as he gathered up a small bit of paste on his brush.. He wasn't assembling the bones of the dead. Tony wasn't dead. He just needed a body. Steve picked up the largest piece of Maxillae. Tony's left upper lip would have cover this piece. Even with his eyes closed he couldn't feel any familiarity there. Tony hadn't let Steve dwell there long anyway. Steve would always end up with a mischievous mouth engulfing his fingers or gentle kisses on his fingertips.
Steve kept his eyes locked on the bone as he carefully fit piece after place. Steve placed the left Maxilla gently in the same tray as the jaw. Each Maxilla was the base of half of the front of Tony's face. The cheeks, eyes and forehead were different bones. The right maxilla was placed gently in next to the left.
Steve rubbed his eyes. They hurt, but with a few blinks he was ready to continue. He had to use a set of tweezers to put the tiny pieces that had broken off the top of the nasal bones back in place. It took a few tries. His hands had been shaking until taken a deep breath and steadied them.
Steve ran one fingertip down the top slant of the bone despite knowing he'd find nothing there. His eyes widened he'd been wrong. That was the little dip at the top of Tony's nose. Where Tony would pinch it when he was particular frustrated or tired. A tiny quiver started up in Steve's stomach. He carefully place the nasal bone next to the maxillae. His hand hovered over the maxilla uncertain. Did her really need to check to see the roof of the mouth felt the same?
He caved and picked them up, and held them together with one hand. He closed his eyes and with his other hand he stroked what would become the roof of Tony's mouth with his finger. Steve smiled and opened his eyes. There was his Tony.
Steve assembled the Vomer, left and right Palatine Bones, Ethmoid, two Inferior Nasal Conchae and both Lacrimal Bones. These were the ones that were shattered into fragments as his shield had plowed though Tony's face. He was positive the paste was magic now. It didn't clog or fill any of the delicate chambers, groves and holes that laced the bones. He forced himself not to linger over them.
Steve wouldn't be able to find Tony in those. He'd never been able to touch there before. Steve bowed his head and rubbed his eyes again. What was he thinking? These were the inner workings of Tony's head. Not something to be thinking of stroking and memorizing the lines. Steve shook the thoughts from his head.
He'd do the Frontal Bone next. The right side was caved in from his second blow. Steve blinked a few times and let out a careful breath, expelling the feel of the brief pause before it had given way to the shield. He gathered up the missing pieces of bone. As he rebuilt the top of Tony's right eye socket and brow, his hand stroked up and down. There was no trouble finding Tony here. The slope of the forehead was the same. Finished, Steve held it up, gazing at it. That was definitely Tony's forehead. Steve could even pin point where his hair line started.
Steve carefully checked over the Parietal Bones next. The top and back part of the skull had survived unscathed. Holding them up Steve knew why. They both had been protected by the remains of Tony's helmet. Steve patted them both as he moved them to the repaired tray. Even partially shattered, Tony's armor had protected him.
The left Temporal Bone was intact. He ran his hands over it. Then he slowed and felt it carefully The quivering in his stomach intensified insistently the longer it took him. Finally, he found Tony. There was that spot behind his ear which would make Tony squirm when he scratched it oh so lightly. Steve blinked his eyes as he placed it done on the tray. The right Temporal bone was easy enough to piece together. The quivering subsided to quiet little tremors and he worked. Finished Steve smiled and gently scratched behind Tony's ear.
Steve assembled the Sphenoid next. He blinked his eyes as he worked. They were starting to hurt again. Much of the Sphenoid was hidden inside the skull. Steve tracked down all the shards and fragments and pieced it together. He settled it on the finished tray satisfied with a job well done.
Steve closed his eyes and leaned back stretching. Even a super soldier felt if he stayed still for hours on end. Stepping away from the table he grabbed a water and looked at his progress. Only three bones left then it would be time to assemble it. The bottle paused on his lip. It hadn't registered to him before, but looking at it all laid out it became obvious. Steve had left finishing the nap of the neck, the eye sockets and cheeks for last.
This time when he blinked his eyes weren't dry. Steve had always had a thing for Tony's cheeks. Steve took another drink. Well he didn't like them when they became sunken because that meant Tony wasn't eating or hydrating. After the Raft break out, that hadn't been so much an issue. Those cheeks had become his to kiss and touch. Tony had smiled more and ate more. And he'd spent more time in bed, if not necessarily sleeping.
Steve put the bottle aside and sat back down at the table. The Occipital Bone was fine. He should have put it over with the others earlier. He picked up adjusted it and his eyes began to tear up. Right, that would be why he hadn't. It was like cupping Tony's head. Except there was no weight and there was nothing there. There wasn't anyone to pulling for a kiss. Hands trembling, he put it carefully down with the others.
Steve put his hands on the table, sighed and forced himself to relax.
Like many of the bones from the left side of Tony's head, the left Zygomatic Bone was mostly intact. There was one piece broken off which was easily pasted back on. Steve resisted running his fingers over it. He quickly, gently set it aside. The right had born the brunt of the first blow. He wasn't crying, but he had to stop and blink to clear his vision. Steve set this one aside untouched as well.
Twenty-four bones repaired and ready to be pieced together to form a skull. Steve rubbed his hands over his head settling with his face buried in them. He ha wanted to do this. Fix the damage he'd caused. This was the first step towards making amends to Tony. Steve had no illusions of his actions ever being forgotten, but maybe if he tried hard enough and did enough, Tony would forgive him.
Raising his head, Steve let out another deep breath, shook out his hands and picked up the brush and started assembling. First he pieced together the bones that made up face of the skull. Steve looked down at the partially assembled skull in his hand. He'd not attached the Frontal Bone yet, so the eye sockets were incomplete, but the rest of Tony's face was there.
Steve still couldn't see Tony though. Steve drew in a harsh breath and closed his eyes. He couldn't resist. Steve gently ran his thumb over the right cheek bone. He swallowed. The tan skin, blue eyes and the quirk of his mouth weren't in evidence, but he could feel Tony there. His breath caught in his throat. From his memory came the feel of a soft kiss to his palm. Steve's eyes shot open. There was just bones in front of him.
He looked down sadly. This wasn't really Tony. He was just chasing memories. Tony was caught in a ring, not residing in these bones. Steve's shoulders squared ñ not residing in them yet. That was going to change. Blood and tissue would wrap around bone, Tony would be freed from the ring, his eyes would open and...
Steve ran his hand through his hair. He wasn't sure what would happen. Steve picked up the Left Parietal bone and continued the slotting bones together. He had his hopes and fears. Tony would forgive him and take him back or perhaps when those eyes opened there would be nothing but hate left. What happened next would be up to Tony, but this time it would be different. Steve was determined that he'd be the one to come to the table first. Before it was always Tony who came and explained and Steve who forgave. He just hoped Tony would listen and forgive Steve.
The skull sat in front of him finished. Steve avoid looking at it, nervous about what he might see. He put the trays away and placed the top on the paste. Steve's stomach was twisting so bad it ached. He stood, grabbed the brushes and headed to the sink.
He turned the water on and placed the first brush under the stream. His fingers carefully brushed the bristles. Letting the water reach and remove ever bit of paste. He blotted the brush dry and moved to the next. The feel of the bristles under his fingers and the familiarity of the action settled Steve. He was still shaky inside, but he felt in control. Squaring his shoulder, he turned to look at the table.
Steve's muscles relaxed. On the table sat a skull, nothing else. Its sockets were empty. He's not sure what he expected. There was no judgment or recriminations. Steve went over and picked up the skull. Cradling it.
"I'll fix this Tony and then we'll talk. Really talk. Not just putting things aside and moving forward. This can't happen again." Steve ran hand over the right cheekbone and up over the top of the skull. The words stuck in his throat. Steve swallowed and tried again. "I can't lose you again."
"We've got to work something out so thing will go differently next time." Steve place the skull gently into the container reluctant to let go. "Because I know we'll come into conflict again."
Steve closed the container and rested his hands on top. His voice was harsh. "I won't let anything drive us apart next time."