cap_ironman | Storybook (1/?) (R)

Title: Storybook (1/?)
Authors:

pandanoai
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Tony (implied), James "Bucky" Barnes
Warning:Strong Language
Word Count: 3927
A/N: Skrulls? What Skrulls?
Summary: Tony Stark just might be going crazy.

It was cold.

That was the first thing that Tony noticed. His breath hung in the air with each exhale. It was the kind of cold that could seep into your bones and let you sleep forever.

"Tony."

He'd know Steve's voice anywhere… but it couldn’t be him. Steve’s body was at the bottom of the ocean beneath the ice that kept him safe.

"Go away." Tony told the voice.

"I need you, Tony." Steve's voice sounded like ice cracking, harsh and desperate. It would be easy for Tony to think this was all in his head.

Tony knew this had to be a dream. Why did his mind have to dredge up the most painful things for Steve to say to him? Tony almost wanted to fall into the escape, pretend the dream was real. That Steve would say such things to him again…

"What happened?" Tony heard his lips say before he could take it back. It didn't matter. None of this did. Steve was gone. That hope-starved voice wasn't really Steve; it was just Tony's subconscious fucking with him.

Then why did he want to hear what the other man had to say so badly?

Tony spun, trying to find where the voice was coming from. He strained to hear Steve's reply.

And then he saw him, the broad star on his chest shining brighter then anything else around them.

Steve smiled at him, though even from a distance Tony could see that it was bitter and strained. "You need to wake up, Tony. I need you."

But if he woke up Steve would disappear. Tony shook his head. That wouldn't be helping anyone. Unless he meant....

"Steve." Tony began, afraid that saying his name aloud would cause the dream to crumble. "That is you, isn't it?" He couldn't see the other man's eyes; a heavy deep-blue hooded cloak covered most of the other man’s features.

"I need you." Steve repeated again. The cloak began to ripple slightly, as though Tony were looking under water.

"I..." Tony hesitated, chiding himself for getting so caught up in this. "How?" He finally asked, the chill in the air making it difficult for him to breathe.

Between blinks, Steve was suddenly in front of him. An icy cold hand touched Tony’s face.

"They left the shield. They couldn’t bring it with them." Steve told Tony. “I need you. It’s so hard to remember when you’re awake -- but you need to wake up now."

"That doesn't make sense," Tony said despite himself.

This wasn't logical. This wasn't anything that even Tony’s brain, that could engineer almost anything, could wrap around.

“What if I never wake up again?” Tony whispered. Steve's touch made it difficult to talk, and the numbness only spread. “Then I wouldn’t have to leave you.”

"Find my shield." Steve replied softly. "And please remember this time Tony."

Tony tried to fight off the pain the icy touch was leaving on his cheek. He didn't dare move away from it. "What do you mean this time?" Tony panted, the numb feeling spreading down his body.

Tony could see his breath billowing out in front of him between himself and Steve. Steve's breath left no trace, if the other man was even breathing at all. Steve’s face still seemed masked in shadows.

"I've seen you in your dreams so many times I've lost count. But Thor--" Steve paused, the hood obscuring all of his face.

“Tony,” Steve lifted his chin defiantly. Tony could finally see his eyes. A bright piercing blue.

"Wake up."

---------------

Tony jolted awake with a gasp.

His face felt numb, his was heart racing. "Steve," he whispered into the empty room and flung an arm over his eyes.

He wondered if he'd programmed Extremis to do this to him. To torment him with dreams of Steve…

Tony sat up in bed. Steve had never touched him before in a dream. Not in one that he could remember. Normally the only dreams that stayed with him had Steve broken and bloody – and it was usually his fault.

"Why would I dream about Steve telling me to find his shield?" he asked the darkened room. It was a fact not many people knew, that the shield Winter Soldier --who played at being Captain America -- wore was not Steve's shield.

Steve's shield had traveled to the bottom of the ocean with him.

Climbing out of bed, Tony shrugged on clothing and made a call using Extremis. He'd have someone find Namor; he'd check that Steve was still safe and untouched.

Of course he was.

Who would dare tamper with Captain America's final resting place? A place that only a hand full of people knew about?

Not even Barnes knew where Steve was really buried.

It was barely five in the morning when Tony started his day, but he had so many people under his supervision these days that it wasn't difficult to find others to start bossing around.

Anything to get his mind off of the dream.

It was nothing. Steve was safe. He was resting where he had found peace. Nothing could take that away from him.

Tony flashed the twelve things he'd postponed to do the day before up in his consciousness through Extremis. "Thanks Steve" he thought sarcastically, "I'll get an early start on things because of you."

***

But Steve’s words seemed to cling.

They came back to him whenever he had a spare moment from trying to keep the world from falling apart.

There were measures trying to be passed through the House about genetic testing, and taking the Initiative idea and applying it to children -- and he was going to have to sell a bit more of his soul to get such plans to not reach the Floor.

There was also dealing with the fact that there were already children being pressed into service and that there was barely a soul who trusted him anymore when all he was trying to do was save lives.

So mostly he put it out of his head, but the dreams kept coming.

And Steve seemed a bit more desperate each time and a part of Tony wanted to tell him to go away, to leave him the hell alone…

And maybe he was seeing hints of blue out of the corner of his eyes but that could be anything.

At least that was what he told himself when faced with James Barnes. Because he could barely stand to look at the man when he was wearing something so close to Steve's costume that it hurt.

"This is bullshit, Stark. I don't care how politically dangerous it is. And I don't need your permission to do what I need to. I'm not one of your men," James snarled, jabbing a finger towards Tony.

"There are bigger issues at work here Barnes." Tony averted his gaze from the other man, knowing it would only be seen as a sign of submission, despite the force behind his words. He just couldn't look at that star on his chest.

He rubbed a hand across his face. "Steve could at least recognize that."

Tony didn't have to look up to know that James was spitting venom at him. "What did you just say to me?" James growled, with barely contained violence.

"And he didn't let his anger rule his actions either." Tony added, his voice cracking slightly. He hadn't slept in a while. He couldn't go to that place. The place where Steve haunted him.

“Shut up." James’ hand came down on Tony's desk. "You have no right to even talk about him.” He paused. “Unless you want to talk about what he'd think of what you're doing. How many children have you sent to training camps, Stark? How many of your friends have you put in jail this week?"

Tony felt his body tense. His stomach felt like it was filled with ice.

He knew what had to be done. He knew why he was doing all of this. So why did things always feel so painful when he had to try and defend himself?

Doing the right thing shouldn't hurt so much.

He raised his head slowly, finally resolved to look James in the eye. But what he saw when he looked up wasn't Bucky at all.

"Tony," Steve -- it had to be Steve no one else sounded like that -- sounded lost -- sad. The hooded figure looked much like he had in Tony's dreams. Only this wasn't a dream of bitter ice… he was awake and Steve stood beside James. "He's a boy. He's angry, don't listen to him."

Tony opened his mouth then closed it again, his throat tight. He couldn't be seeing this -- hearing this.

"I need you to find my shield, Tony. I need you to find me."

Tony looked down at his desk. "God. Not now Stark. Get it together." His heart was pounding in his chest, his eyes wide with-- not terror-- Tony wasn't certain what this emotion was. Was insanity an emotion?

He looked back up. Steve still stood there, a familiar calm and noble aura cutting through his obvious sadness.

James, who was still standing beside him, looked incredulous. "What the hell are you going on about?" His posture shifted. James looked to where Tony wouldn't take his eyes from. "Don't even try to fake crazy Stark. I know when people are faking crazy to get out of something. I was in The War."

"No he wouldn't," Steve sighed. "Mitchell actually liked wearing dresses on occasion. And I'm fairly certain Owens was crazy, PTSD -- not that we recognized it back then." He almost sounded amused for a moment.

James made a sound of frustration. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Tony, find my shield. This is important please," Steve told him. "Thor's -- intervention -- bought me some time but -- "

Steve's cloaked figure began to fade from view.

When Tony was able to form a coherent thought again, James was practically in his face.

"I've heard it going around that you've been losing it lately, but you need to not fall apart on me Stark." Tony heard him say. "You have the world resting on your shoulders. It’d be a really nasty fall."

Tony couldn't tell if James said it out of anger or sympathy. It didn't matter…

Tony rose without saying anything to Steve Rogers' little brother. He made his way around his desk before James cut him off.

"Where are you going? What's going on?"

Tony looked down at the metallic hand that was on his shoulder, stopping him. "I have to see Namor." Tony eventually spouted. "There's something I need to know and I need to know it now. I don't care if I'm going unannounced. Traditional courtesy for royalty be damned. Steve means more then public relations with Atlantis." He stated at a quickened pace.

Tony's panicked eyes must have done something for James because after a moment the man stepped aside to let Tony pass.

It was less then a second later that James started following him.

"I'm coming too."

***

James looked up at the ceiling, and then over at Stark who looked well on his way to a mental breakdown - if he already wasn't having one.

James hadn't worn the Captain America uniform, partly because of the ambiguity of this little mission (namely, he had no idea what was going on) and partly because he didn't want to hear what Namor would say about it. It had been almost impossible to convince Stark to wait for him to let him change.

"You know, this ‘waiting room’ looks remarkably like a lot of prison cells I've been in," James said, more to see if Stark would react than for any other reason. He eyed the door, wondering if he could break it down if need be.

Tony wasn't saying anything. At least not to him, he kept muttering to himself about the shield, and that everything would be fine if he just knew.

Knew what?

And the shield was back in a safe place. Bucky regretted not taking it with them but Tony had seemed enough on edge and Bucky had first hand knowledge of what a slightly cracked dictator was capable of.

"The shield is fine, Stark," James finally snapped. "And I'm still not sure what it has to do with us being here."

Tony finally looked over at him like he'd realized for the first time that Bucky was in this cell with him.

"You shouldn't have come." Tony managed. He looked about ready to start hyperventilating. "Damn it what's wrong with me?" Tony asked himself, hanging his head back in his hands.

James had had enough.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He yelled, standing up. "The only reason I came with you is because you didn't fake what I saw in your eyes back in your office. I didn’t even know you were capable of that." James had his finger pointed toward Stark. "And you started talking about Steve."

James walked toward the dark-haired man. "Now stop with the lies and the avoidance. Why are we here?"

Tony didn't lift his head. It was a while before he answered.

"I've been having -- dreams. About Steve. He keeps telling me to find his shield and to find him. So I stopped sleeping." Tony let out a sound that was close enough to a laugh to unnerve James. "I thought it was just – I don’t know. Then I saw him in my office while you were there."

"Fuck, you are insane," James hissed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The domino mask felt off in comparison to the cowl he'd just been getting used to.

"He acted as if he could hear you," Tony continued, as though hadn't heard James. "Something about Mitchell just liking women's clothing… but then he told me to find his shield again. But I know where his shield is. I know where he is. At the bottom of the ocean, under the ice. Safe."

James couldn't breathe for a moment. "What?"

Tony was silent.

"You... Steve is in Arlington. He's with heroes." James stated forcefully.

"No. He's not." He could hear Stark whisper. "I had--"

But James was at his throat. "You put him back in the ice?! Who gave you the right to--"

"He was at peace there! No war. No fighting. He could sleep." Tony looked like he wanted to find such a place.

James loosened his grip, trying to get a feel for the other man's state of mind. Then he realized something.

"My shield." James said slowly, his jaw tightly clenched. "Is it Steve's?"

Tony met his gaze once then dropped his eyes again. Slowly he shook his head. "It wouldn't have been right. It was part of him."

"You --- bastard!" James handed tightened for a moment, before he shoved Stark away. "Lying son of a bitch."

"It was his," Stark’s voice was ragged.

"You let me think I was carrying his shield. You let all of us think we were burying Steve -- you had no right." James’ voice dropped to a soft almost deadly whisper. "You were the last person in the world with the right to decide such things. He hated you. You destroyed him."

Stark's face went carefully blank. James hadn't seen it so posed and unreadable since the war.

Tony Stark was excessively good at faking such things.

James almost began to see the beginning of a carefully calculated smile on Stark's face before the door that James had been eyeing earlier burst open, and none other than Namor himself walked toward them both.

“Stark," Namor acknowledged. "You are very lucky you caught me in a good mood."

James resisted the urge to snort. Namor was never in a good mood.

"Bucky -- all grown up I see. You were the last person I expected to find keeping company with him." He gestured toward Stark.

"I felt compelled." James replied, deadpanned. "I suppose I could say the same about you from what I hear. Where is Steve's body?"

The smirk on Namor's face disappeared immediately. It was quickly replaced with either a look of shame or one of anger, James couldn't exactly tell.

Namor's eyes were on Tony Stark, and admittedly, Tony was handling the Prince of Atlantis' wrath rather well.

Or he simply had other things on his mind.

"Sorry to ruin your hospitableness so easily." Tony stated smoothly. "I'd also apologize for coming unannounced but honestly, I don't care."

By his body posture, Namor's attitude wasn't improving. "What the hell do you--"

"I need you to tell me where Steve is." Tony interrupted him.

"You know where he is." Namor seethed. "I keep my promises."

"When you can." Tony replied.

James saw Namor's hands clench into fists. These two had a deeper history then they were letting on, James could tell.

"You need to check. I need to make sure. I'll put on a suit. See him myself." Tony's voice was growing in the same desperation that James had heard back in his office.

The effect on Namor was almost the same as it had been on James himself.

The Sub-Mariner eyed Stark, his annoyance seeping through. "No." Namor replied, crossing his arms. "You came to me. I will check. Or is the word of a prince not good enough for you?"

Stark looked about ready to argue, but kept his mouth shut. He looked down at the ground. "Just make sure he's...make sure his body is safe." Tony stated eventually, seemingly thankful for anything he could get at this point.

“I will return shortly," Namor stated imperiously, before leaving the two other men alone again.

James really had no idea why Namor was agreeing to do this. Maybe for Steve's sake, because it couldn't be for Stark's. "Shame,” James smirked. “I was hoping he'd at least hit you some."

Tony looked away, his mouth a firm closed line.

"You're sick, Stark. You know that right?" James scorned, wanting some reaction, some rage from the other man. He wanted an excuse to use his fists. To work out his temper over finding out that Stark had lied to them all. Lied to him. "Did you really hate Steve that much? To break his last request? To lord over your control of him even after death?"

It was unfair and partly untrue, but James couldn't stand to see Stark sit there and act like he was the one in mourning.

To his and his fists’ disappointment, Stark just seemed to shrink further into himself. The man looked dead tired, possibly just dead.

"I never wanted any of this." James couldn't tell if Stark was talking to himself again. "I just... what if I can't do this? What if it's just me... and I'm breaking. He asked me to take care of things. I can’t let the dream die. He said…"

James wasn't buying it. He'd seen what this man was capable of. He'd seen him turn a blind eye to comrades, hunt down those he'd called "friend" the day before.

The only thing that James didn't understand was why Tony was doing this. What reason could he possibly have? Other than he was simply going insane.

James made it a point to ignore him then, instead sitting on the opposite side of the cell.

His thoughts turned to Steve, and the knowledge that the shield he'd coveted as the man's own, was nothing but a second rate knock off, one that Steve might have used once or twice for some emergency reason. It was a bit too painful to think about.

He settled for silently punching the wall instead. Namor had better get here soon.

***

Quite a bit of time passed before Tony stopped their pattern of dysfunctional communication skills. "Stop that. You're either going to dent your hand or the wall," he said tiredly. "Namor won't be pleased if it’s the wall."

James ignored him and punched the wall again, this time with his real hand. It hurt, but on the sliding scale of pain he'd lived through -- it was nothing.

"I never hated him.” Tony continued to speak. “Despite what you think. It would be easier if I hated him." James refused to categorize the emotion in Stark's voice.

He opened his mouth ready to rail Stark for lying again -- because who the hell would do what Stark had done to someone they liked -- when the door swung open.

Namor entered, his face grim. He held Steve's shield in one hand, water still dripping from it.

Tony quickly stood. He looked at Namor as though he were a doctor about to tell him if his loved one was going to live or die.

James simply turned in his seat, his eyes never leaving the shield.

"Please, please tell me he's fine." That crushed tone was in Tony's voice again.

"What did you do?" Was Namor's response.

"What?" Tony's face withdrew in shock and Namor simply strode closer to him.

"You knew he was gone. How? What did you do? Who would dare disturb his grave!?" Namor shouted back at him.

"No!" Tony replied, finally getting animated despite all that James had tried. "It's not like that. I would never--"

"Then how did you know?"

Tony looked at the ground.

"Dreams." James told Namor. "Something about dreams." James stood up, his gaze alternating between both men. "So Steve isn't in Arlington. And now you're saying he isn't in this secret water grave you both thought would be exactly what he wanted? Well then where the hell is he?"

There was no answer from either of them.

"Hand me that shield." James broke the silence, striding over to Namor, his hand outstretched.

"What claim do you hold on it?" Namor demanded. "You're a child and this is not a weapon for a boy."

James ground his teeth at the insult. "Steve's last request. Which Stark ignored."

Tony pressed his lips together into a hard line. "He wanted you to take up the mantle. The shield was his."

Namor gave Stark a sharp but almost sympathetic look. "What visitations from Captain America have you been receiving?" He half-demanded and half-asked Stark.

"Just -- dreams." Tony said biting off the words. "He told me to find the shield. Once while I was awake."

"We will find out who dared disturb his rest and we will make that person pay." Namor declared, and James got the impression this was the royal 'we'.
Then muttering something suspiciously like 'humans' -- and James at another time might have pointed out that Namor himself was half human --, Namor started to hand the shield to Stark.
James clenched his jaw, refusing to be ignored, refusing to let what he knew Steve wanted, to be ignored.

He reached out his hand and touched the shield just as Stark's hand reached it as well.

Namor let go.

James looked at Stark.

Both of their hands were on the shield. Stark met his gaze.

Who would let go first?

But then the skin of the back of James’ neck prickled and the metal of the shield turned white hot under his real hand. Before he could do more than take a breath he was blinded by a flash of light.

And the world disappeared without a sound.

Chapter 2: The Cottage in the Woods

Storybook (1/?) (R)

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