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cap_ironman2008-09-22 07:41 pm
lovelyracketeer.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2008-09-22 07:41 pm
Entry tags:
[Fic] - Oxygen
Title: Oxygen
Author: LovelyRacketeer
Rating: PG
Archive: Surely, just comment.
Summery: Returning from death is one thing, but for Steve learning to live again is something else entirely.
Author's Notes: I am a horrid failure at writing dabbles. xD I didn't really want to delve into this since I'm a such big newbie to the fandom, but I had to get the idea down so it would stop bugging me. I decided to write a really quick, vague dabble that somehow turned into this 2000 word story. Oops. Anyway, I apologize for all the rampant inaccuracies I'm sure are in here, and hope someone gets a kick out of it anyway. ^^
This entire fic was inspired by the song "Oxygen" by a local band called Welbilt. Edit: I couldn't get the song up for download but there is at least a link to listen to it on last.fm. You can listen to it here. ;D
Author: LovelyRacketeer
Rating: PG
Archive: Surely, just comment.
Summery: Returning from death is one thing, but for Steve learning to live again is something else entirely.
Author's Notes: I am a horrid failure at writing dabbles. xD I didn't really want to delve into this since I'm a such big newbie to the fandom, but I had to get the idea down so it would stop bugging me. I decided to write a really quick, vague dabble that somehow turned into this 2000 word story. Oops. Anyway, I apologize for all the rampant inaccuracies I'm sure are in here, and hope someone gets a kick out of it anyway. ^^
This entire fic was inspired by the song "Oxygen" by a local band called Welbilt. Edit: I couldn't get the song up for download but there is at least a link to listen to it on last.fm. You can listen to it here. ;D
Oxygen
---
Look at me
I need a miracle more than the blood in my veins
the scenery
is changing so fast that I can't keep the face with the names
And I've been having some trouble
Walking on water and turning it into the wine
that got us here in bed
it's more than I bargained for
---
---
Look at me
I need a miracle more than the blood in my veins
the scenery
is changing so fast that I can't keep the face with the names
And I've been having some trouble
Walking on water and turning it into the wine
that got us here in bed
it's more than I bargained for
---
Life after miraculously returning from death seemed to be made of harsh lights and sharp corners. As glad as Steve felt to be back among the people and the places that he loved he found it exceedingly difficult to readjust to the world yet again. If anything he was finding it even harder this time than after he thawed-out all those years ago. Things were more complicated now, with the residual effects of the Civil War, the Registration Act and the Skrull invasion having thrown everything into general chaos and complicating every step he took.
"It really is great to have you back, Cap."
Steve gave every friend who welcomed him back a warm smile, accepting the hand that cuffed him on the back or returning a handshake firmly with no real enthusiasm. It wasn't that he didn't care, just that somehow he felt distant from all the things that mattered so much to him before.
The first thing he really, truly felt after returning was a horrible sinking realization that he had not returned entirely intact. The world was trying to revive Captain America and the fickle hand of magic had given them Steve Rogers instead, completely devoid of the improvements that had turned his fragile body into a super-soldier. His body was still strong but seemed to degrade just a little each passing day it failed to produce the serum, with it coming an ever-growing sense of weakness and futility that he thought may very well destroy him.
Clinging desperately to the optimism that once came to him so naturally he trudged on the best way he knew how. There must be some reason things happened the way they did, he assured himself, even if the sense of wrongness that permeated his life was almost overwhelming at times.
And then there was Tony.
Even with a flimsy truce now in place the catastrophic damage Registration had done to their relationship was undeniable, tearing the friendship Steve had once treasured to shreds and making their rare interactions painfully stilted. It was hard to see Tony's familiar face go blank and emotionless in his presence, obviously on guard each second they spent together.
When Steve first saw him after his return he expected him to have some sort of reaction - any sort, really - and was startled when all he got was a slightly bowed head and an unenthusiastic "good to have you back." Steve couldn't help but find the non-reaction crushing, knowing then without a doubt that whatever their relationship had once meant to Tony was truly dead and gone.
Beyond even that, there was the part of Steve that just couldn't stand the sight of what Tony had become since the disintegration of the Avengers. Tony Stark carried a lot on his shoulders these days and it showed. Outside of the gleaming armor he almost lived in he was downright fragile-looking, the high, handsome cheekbones Steve had once admired now making his thin, pale face look almost skeletal in certain lights. All the indicators of stress Steve had come to recognize over the years - the dark circles under his eyes, the almost perpetual crease between his eyebrows - were exaggerated to a point where he wondered if any amount of rest and relaxation would sooth them from Tony's face.
Every once in a great while the dark eyes Tony usually hid behind the mask would find his and for a split second Steve could see a crushing darkness there, consuming the man who had once been his best friend almost entirely. A split second later the look would be gone, leaving Steve to wonder if he'd ever really seen it at all.
It made him feel sick, like he'd been the one who'd lost Tony rather than the other way around. Beneath all of the fighting and circumstance he always believed that at the core of his being Tony was still the man whom Steve cared for so dearly, but now that person seemed to be entirely gone. Not even the drinking had managed to accomplished that.
It was hard to remain optimistic when the part of him that made Steve Rogers into Captain America was disintegrating and of the person he once considered his closest friend no longer seemed to exist within the armor of Iron Man.
He started taking refuge on the roof when it all became too overwhelming. Gazing quietly out over the land he still loved dearly, he took comfort in the familiar sight, knowing that he'd protect this place even when he couldn't really be the hero it deserved anymore. Bucky would heft that shield again when he no longer could give America what she needed from her captain, though that wouldn't stop him from fighting for the country he believed in until it inevitably killed him again. He couldn't and wouldn't do anything else.
"The meeting is starting in a few minutes," a familiar mechanical voice spoke from behind him, startling Steve from his reverie. Unused to being snuck up on, he frowned and turned away from the skyline to face his visitor. If he hadn't instantly recognized Iron Man's processed voice he would have been startled by the metallic form walking up behind him. He could count on one hand the number of times Tony spoke to him in private since he had returned from the dead and none of them had been voluntary.
"I know. I'll be down soon," he replied, trying to ignore how achingly familiar the tilt of the red and gold helmet was as Tony inspected him from behind the mask. Steve couldn't imagine what he was looking for, but the quizzical look was one he knew like the back of his hand. It was the same way Tony looked at an interesting physics equation or half-finished upgrade for his suit that he couldn't quite finish.
He hadn't seen that look in ages, he realized.
"You really didn't hear me coming?" Tony asked, and Steve heard the implication loud and clear.
"No," he replied simply, trying not to sound too crushed by that fact. He knew it was coming but it really didn't make it any easier to admit that his senses were probably suffering from the lack of serum production just like the rest of him.
"That's a bitch," Tony muttered vaguely in response, but Steve could practically hear him filing that new little bit of information away for future use.
They stood in awkward silence for a long moment before Tony moved to stand beside him, gazing out at the skyline Steve had just been admiring. Neither of them said anything, Steve not wanting to disturb whatever was going on behind that mask as it gazed out over the city.
"We should probably get down to that meeting," he finally said, his deeply ingrained need to be punctual overriding his desire to stay quiet. Tony didn't react for a moment, then he shocked Steve by reaching up and removing the suit's helmet so he could run a hand through his ruffled black hair. It stuck up in every direction, reminding Steve strongly of a little boy who had just crawled out of bed.
"We'll figure it out, you know, " Tony said, his voice a little weaker without the helmet's voice processor but still rumbling up from deep in his chest, low and smooth and familiar to Steve's ears.
It took him a moment to realize what Tony meant, as distracted as he was by the sight of his old friend in the sunlight. He didn't look quite as dead with the glow of the city on his face, he realized. It made his skin glow and his eyes shine a shade of bright blue Steve had almost forgotten over the past few months.
"Not me, I'm no good with human physiology, but Hank and Reed will sort this out," Tony amended, his eyes downcast and seemingly oblivious to Steve's scrutiny, "I guess that's the plus of being Steve Rogers - everyone wants to lend you a hand when you need one."
Steve didn't know what to say, his brain seeming to be a few steps behind what was happening. He was trying desperately to catch up, but Tony kept talking before he could get a handle on the idea.
"And if all else fails, I could make you a suit," Tony mused, seeming to find the idea funny judging by the amused twitch of his lips, "I could even give it little wings on the helmet and a cape if that would help."
"Tony," Steve muttered dumbly, in awe. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity Tony, his Tony, was right there in front of him. There were a thousand things he wanted to say, but an instant later Tony looked up at him and all those thoughts fled from his mind.
That dark crushing something was there again, certainly, but there was also a slew of other things reflected on Tony's face that Steve had never seen there before. "I'm so sorry," and "I missed you," and "I can't do this right now, please give me time" and a million other things Steve could see there, unsaid but heard nonetheless. These were the things Tony had guarded from him, the reasons why he could bring himself to react when he'd seen Captain America back from the dead.
For the first time Steve understood.
When he died, Tony had shouldered the weight of the world in repentance, and now, even though Steve was back, he had to carry that burden for a little while longer. If Tony Stark fell apart right now, so did everything he had worked towards for the past few months. All the things he tried to mend, all the mistakes he tried to fix would be for naught if he fell apart now.
So he'd hang on just a little longer, forcing himself to feel nothing until he thought he had the right to feel it all again.
"Just..." Steve started, desperate to tell him he understood, that he forgave him, but knowing he couldn't, "...just don't give my suit those awful roller skates, okay?"
Tony looked away with a snort of laughter, the moment ending as quickly as it started. Steve both regretted it and knew it was for the best. It wasn't time for that discussion yet. Tony couldn't handle it right now.
"Whatever," Tony said, his helmet snapping back into place as he turned away from the view of the city, "you'll regret saying that when you see the improvements I've made to mine."
"Oh no, they're back?" Steve asked in mock horror, following Tony as he made his way towards the door.
"Hurry up, Rogers, or we'll be late," Iron Man's mechanical voice intoned, ignoring him and falling back into the cold efficiency Steve came to expect since he'd returned. It may have been his imagination, though, but it almost sounded like Tony was making fun on him from beneath the iron mask.
"I'm coming," he responded, pausing briefly at the doorway to look back at the city one more time. Taking a deep breath of the cool night air, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity he could feel the oxygen in his lungs and the blood running hot in his veins.
He turned away and shut the door behind them firmly.
"It really is great to have you back, Cap."
Steve gave every friend who welcomed him back a warm smile, accepting the hand that cuffed him on the back or returning a handshake firmly with no real enthusiasm. It wasn't that he didn't care, just that somehow he felt distant from all the things that mattered so much to him before.
The first thing he really, truly felt after returning was a horrible sinking realization that he had not returned entirely intact. The world was trying to revive Captain America and the fickle hand of magic had given them Steve Rogers instead, completely devoid of the improvements that had turned his fragile body into a super-soldier. His body was still strong but seemed to degrade just a little each passing day it failed to produce the serum, with it coming an ever-growing sense of weakness and futility that he thought may very well destroy him.
Clinging desperately to the optimism that once came to him so naturally he trudged on the best way he knew how. There must be some reason things happened the way they did, he assured himself, even if the sense of wrongness that permeated his life was almost overwhelming at times.
And then there was Tony.
Even with a flimsy truce now in place the catastrophic damage Registration had done to their relationship was undeniable, tearing the friendship Steve had once treasured to shreds and making their rare interactions painfully stilted. It was hard to see Tony's familiar face go blank and emotionless in his presence, obviously on guard each second they spent together.
When Steve first saw him after his return he expected him to have some sort of reaction - any sort, really - and was startled when all he got was a slightly bowed head and an unenthusiastic "good to have you back." Steve couldn't help but find the non-reaction crushing, knowing then without a doubt that whatever their relationship had once meant to Tony was truly dead and gone.
Beyond even that, there was the part of Steve that just couldn't stand the sight of what Tony had become since the disintegration of the Avengers. Tony Stark carried a lot on his shoulders these days and it showed. Outside of the gleaming armor he almost lived in he was downright fragile-looking, the high, handsome cheekbones Steve had once admired now making his thin, pale face look almost skeletal in certain lights. All the indicators of stress Steve had come to recognize over the years - the dark circles under his eyes, the almost perpetual crease between his eyebrows - were exaggerated to a point where he wondered if any amount of rest and relaxation would sooth them from Tony's face.
Every once in a great while the dark eyes Tony usually hid behind the mask would find his and for a split second Steve could see a crushing darkness there, consuming the man who had once been his best friend almost entirely. A split second later the look would be gone, leaving Steve to wonder if he'd ever really seen it at all.
It made him feel sick, like he'd been the one who'd lost Tony rather than the other way around. Beneath all of the fighting and circumstance he always believed that at the core of his being Tony was still the man whom Steve cared for so dearly, but now that person seemed to be entirely gone. Not even the drinking had managed to accomplished that.
It was hard to remain optimistic when the part of him that made Steve Rogers into Captain America was disintegrating and of the person he once considered his closest friend no longer seemed to exist within the armor of Iron Man.
He started taking refuge on the roof when it all became too overwhelming. Gazing quietly out over the land he still loved dearly, he took comfort in the familiar sight, knowing that he'd protect this place even when he couldn't really be the hero it deserved anymore. Bucky would heft that shield again when he no longer could give America what she needed from her captain, though that wouldn't stop him from fighting for the country he believed in until it inevitably killed him again. He couldn't and wouldn't do anything else.
"The meeting is starting in a few minutes," a familiar mechanical voice spoke from behind him, startling Steve from his reverie. Unused to being snuck up on, he frowned and turned away from the skyline to face his visitor. If he hadn't instantly recognized Iron Man's processed voice he would have been startled by the metallic form walking up behind him. He could count on one hand the number of times Tony spoke to him in private since he had returned from the dead and none of them had been voluntary.
"I know. I'll be down soon," he replied, trying to ignore how achingly familiar the tilt of the red and gold helmet was as Tony inspected him from behind the mask. Steve couldn't imagine what he was looking for, but the quizzical look was one he knew like the back of his hand. It was the same way Tony looked at an interesting physics equation or half-finished upgrade for his suit that he couldn't quite finish.
He hadn't seen that look in ages, he realized.
"You really didn't hear me coming?" Tony asked, and Steve heard the implication loud and clear.
"No," he replied simply, trying not to sound too crushed by that fact. He knew it was coming but it really didn't make it any easier to admit that his senses were probably suffering from the lack of serum production just like the rest of him.
"That's a bitch," Tony muttered vaguely in response, but Steve could practically hear him filing that new little bit of information away for future use.
They stood in awkward silence for a long moment before Tony moved to stand beside him, gazing out at the skyline Steve had just been admiring. Neither of them said anything, Steve not wanting to disturb whatever was going on behind that mask as it gazed out over the city.
"We should probably get down to that meeting," he finally said, his deeply ingrained need to be punctual overriding his desire to stay quiet. Tony didn't react for a moment, then he shocked Steve by reaching up and removing the suit's helmet so he could run a hand through his ruffled black hair. It stuck up in every direction, reminding Steve strongly of a little boy who had just crawled out of bed.
"We'll figure it out, you know, " Tony said, his voice a little weaker without the helmet's voice processor but still rumbling up from deep in his chest, low and smooth and familiar to Steve's ears.
It took him a moment to realize what Tony meant, as distracted as he was by the sight of his old friend in the sunlight. He didn't look quite as dead with the glow of the city on his face, he realized. It made his skin glow and his eyes shine a shade of bright blue Steve had almost forgotten over the past few months.
"Not me, I'm no good with human physiology, but Hank and Reed will sort this out," Tony amended, his eyes downcast and seemingly oblivious to Steve's scrutiny, "I guess that's the plus of being Steve Rogers - everyone wants to lend you a hand when you need one."
Steve didn't know what to say, his brain seeming to be a few steps behind what was happening. He was trying desperately to catch up, but Tony kept talking before he could get a handle on the idea.
"And if all else fails, I could make you a suit," Tony mused, seeming to find the idea funny judging by the amused twitch of his lips, "I could even give it little wings on the helmet and a cape if that would help."
"Tony," Steve muttered dumbly, in awe. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity Tony, his Tony, was right there in front of him. There were a thousand things he wanted to say, but an instant later Tony looked up at him and all those thoughts fled from his mind.
That dark crushing something was there again, certainly, but there was also a slew of other things reflected on Tony's face that Steve had never seen there before. "I'm so sorry," and "I missed you," and "I can't do this right now, please give me time" and a million other things Steve could see there, unsaid but heard nonetheless. These were the things Tony had guarded from him, the reasons why he could bring himself to react when he'd seen Captain America back from the dead.
For the first time Steve understood.
When he died, Tony had shouldered the weight of the world in repentance, and now, even though Steve was back, he had to carry that burden for a little while longer. If Tony Stark fell apart right now, so did everything he had worked towards for the past few months. All the things he tried to mend, all the mistakes he tried to fix would be for naught if he fell apart now.
So he'd hang on just a little longer, forcing himself to feel nothing until he thought he had the right to feel it all again.
"Just..." Steve started, desperate to tell him he understood, that he forgave him, but knowing he couldn't, "...just don't give my suit those awful roller skates, okay?"
Tony looked away with a snort of laughter, the moment ending as quickly as it started. Steve both regretted it and knew it was for the best. It wasn't time for that discussion yet. Tony couldn't handle it right now.
"Whatever," Tony said, his helmet snapping back into place as he turned away from the view of the city, "you'll regret saying that when you see the improvements I've made to mine."
"Oh no, they're back?" Steve asked in mock horror, following Tony as he made his way towards the door.
"Hurry up, Rogers, or we'll be late," Iron Man's mechanical voice intoned, ignoring him and falling back into the cold efficiency Steve came to expect since he'd returned. It may have been his imagination, though, but it almost sounded like Tony was making fun on him from beneath the iron mask.
"I'm coming," he responded, pausing briefly at the doorway to look back at the city one more time. Taking a deep breath of the cool night air, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity he could feel the oxygen in his lungs and the blood running hot in his veins.
He turned away and shut the door behind them firmly.
---
All that I need
is to learn how to breathe again
All that I want
is your taste on my lips, on my skin
'cause I need you like Oxygen
---
All that I need
is to learn how to breathe again
All that I want
is your taste on my lips, on my skin
'cause I need you like Oxygen
---
End