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cap_ironman2009-03-05 05:58 pm
kijikun.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2009-03-05 05:58 pm
Entry tags:
Storybook (4/?) (R|Steve/Tony)
Title: Storybook (4/?)
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kijikun and pandanoai
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Tony (implied), James "Bucky" Barnes
Warning: Strong Language, AU, Unbetaed (unless you count Panda, which I do - Kiji)
A/N: This fic disregards Secret Invasion. These are not the skrulls you are looking for. Concrit is love.
Word Count: 5458
Summary: Chapter 4 - In which our heroes met a wizard, Tony has a dream, and James acquires new clothes.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
Chapter Four: The Crossroads
The object stopped suddenly as the light fell on them, as if it sensed that there were people in its path. It creaked to a halt and Tony found himself staring at a wagon with faded red paint. He closed his eyes rubbing the back of his hand across his face, and then reopened them.
The wagon was still there.
"You’re seeing this too, right?" Tony asked James, with a sidelong glance.
James nodded. "This isn't exactly where I'd expect to see a carnival wagon," He muttered.
"I'm more worried about the fact it was too fast to see properly a moment ago, and then it stopped on a dime," Tony told him. He frowned, wondering if he should knock or if they should just walk past. Was there some fairytale with this sort of thing? He hated trying to figure things out like that.
He hated this place, he hated magic, and he was tired. God, he was just so tired.
"Let's keep going," James said, giving the wagon a wide berth. "I'm sick of dealing with all the magical crap this place keeps throwing at us."
Tony opened his mouth to tell James that he had just invited something to happen, when something did happen.
A soft chime came from the carriage and then with a loud pop a canopy unfurled and panels of the wagon dropped -- revealing bright red and gold paint. The canopy was similarly colored.
An elderly man leaned through the window, smiling like a peddler who'd just found customers in the desert. He had several gallons of water -- and Tony might have been a little thirsty. "Hello, hello. I had heard there were some travelers from my world along this path tonight. You must be those two. Or those two must be you." The man chuckled. "You must forgive me, my mind is going, and a mind is a terrible thing to waste."
Tony resisted the urge to sigh and glare, and instead nodded at the man rather curtly.
He older man simply smiled back in a wide and effortless way, and drummed a seemingly random rhythm upon the outside of the carriage. "But you would not waste your minds, would you boys? Or your times! Or time, rather. No, you have a place to be. I can tell."
Tony tilted his head at the old man but before he could speak, James stepped in front of him, blocking his vision of the entire wagon. "Let's go." James said, crossing his arms.
Tony let his focus shift from the carriage to the man in front of him. He'd put James through enough tonight. He'd been through enough tonight, too.
So he nodded and let James take the lead, ignoring the old man completely.
Or he tried to… Tony let his gaze flicker to the man out of the corner of his vision. He was still hanging out of the window smiling, sending crinkles to the corners of his eyes.
"Are you sure you want to do that, Mr. Stark? I thought you were looking for me."
Tony blinked and both he and James stopped immediately. Tony turned back to the wagon slowly.
"You're the Wizard?" But then, what had Tony been expecting? The more Tony thought about it, it really didn't seem like that odd of an idea for the old man to the wizard. Suddenly, Tony laughed. "The Wizard of Oz, I presume?"
The man chuckled. "Formerly. Though really, it was more of Odd than of Oz. You may call me Professor Marvel. It is my title, my name, and once was my game."
"We've had more than enough of magic tonight," James spat. Tony couldn't see his face, but he assumed James was scowling.
"Are you not the protective young man, or is that more a young man to be protected?” The Professor said, quite amused. “But you seem confident, and confidence is key. As are chocolate chips." Professor Marvel told him. "But as for magic, it is a rather good thing you have had your fill of it because I cannot work a drop. Stay right there. I will open the door."
The Professor pulled his head in through the window.
Tony turned to James.
"We can't walk all night," He said, softly.
James turned his head and glared. "Do you want to get yourself killed?"
Tony shrugged. Then he added, "I'm tired, hungry, and dying for something to drink, James. And you look --" James looked tired as well, and young and worried. "-- like you could use a rest. I think we can take one old man between us. If he is the Wizard of OZ -- then he doesn't have any magic. Remember the story?"
James didn’t look convinced, and he nodded just as the door opened, silencing whatever he'd been about to say.
"Come in and come in," the Professor called. "There are wolves that walk like men in these woods, and you are just the sort they would like to add to the pack, Anthony."
Tony paused slightly when the old man said his first name, but he made his way into the wagon, ready to duck his head and be cramped into the small enclosure. He closed his eyes, trying not to think of how close he'd come to being added to the pack. And how badly he'd wanted to go with Lycaeus.
He heard James' footsteps in tow behind him.
Tony opened his eyes.
He stopped in his tracks. The inside of the carriage was massive. It was about the size of a floor in Avenger Tower. It was brightly lit and packed to the teeth with various artifacts that just didn't seem possible. From fairy wings and a dragon’s egg to things Tony couldn't even place…
"Do you want me to come in or not?" He heard James say, as Tony had stopped right in front of the other man, blocking his way. Tony tried not to gape as he stood to the side and let James enter.
James gaped.
Tony almost thought to laugh, but instead he turned back to the Professor determined to ask what they should do about their situation. Instead he found himself accepting a mug filled with an amber liquid.
"Drink. Drink and think tomorrow, my new friends." The Professor voiced, handing a mug to James as well.
Tony eyed it suspiciously, taking a whiff of its smell.
"It's apple cider." James reported sourly, from Tony's left.
Tony almost laughed again.
Instead, he drank gratefully. "Thank you," he told the Professor. Then he sighed. "But how did you know we were looking for you?"
“Ah, yes.” The old man grinned. "These things get around, and one of the trees along the path took a fancy to young James. She made sure I was informed," Professor Marvel said off handedly, then he peered closer at James. "Hmm."
James was still gazing around in open amazement. Granted Tony had never seen anything quite like this—still he'd seen some odd things when visiting Stephen Strange (Stephen would probably love to get his hands on some of these items)—but he certainly wasn't gaping like a fish. Tony almost said as much, when he stopped himself.
James had probably never been in Strange's home. Tony took another drink of his cider, and watched James. He'd never seen James so wide-eyed before.
"If you don't have magic how do you explain the wagon?" Tony asked, as the thought sprang to his mind.
Professor Marvel smiled, looking away from his study of James. "I have friends that look after me. My daughter is a witch after all. The bee's knees of witches I might say, if bees had knees, or if that was something I would say."
Tony chuckled at that.
"Now let me show you both to your beds, we can talk over breakfast come morning. I am sure you are both very anxious to be home," the Professor said. Tony swore he almost winked at him.
"Y-yes." Tony said, hesitantly. He looked over at James who had set his features back to rigid and reserved. "We want to get home." he added, almost quietly, as though it were in defeat.
But Tony knew that was absurd. He hadn't asked for this, and... and he couldn't bring Steve back.
He couldn’t bring Steve back. He knew that logically but Tony couldn't really bring himself to believe that... but he'd do his best to figure things out from his world. A world in which all of this damn magic didn't run amok.
"We do want to get home, so if you'll just tell us--"
"My goodness, patience is still listed among the virtues, Mr. Stark." The older man interrupted him, waving them both back to where he apparently had beds for them. "We will have plenty of time for all of that tomorrow. We have a ways to travel, you see? And you are barely standing as it is."
"That's true." James replied, walking after the Professor. Tony just glared and tried to get his legs to stop feeling so weak. He bit his tongue and followed James.
"Thought you didn't want to end up killed." He hissed at him.
"Oh," James snorted. "I'm not sleeping for a while tonight. And don't think you can just pass out either."
Tony inhaled deeply, and stopped when he noticed that the Professor had turned to them once again and was smiling.
"Would you like to share a room or be separate?" The man asked, jovially.
"Separate." Tony and James said in unison. They looked at each other briefly, before the old man laughed again, and showed them to their rooms.
***
James could have sworn that he'd only closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again there was sun pouring in through the window. Sitting up he blurrily rubbed his eyes, trying to get his bearings. His brain felt a bit sluggish, and his stomach grumbled at the smell of food. He always had loved bacon.
Looking around, everything fell into place, they were in that ridiculous Wizard's -- Professor's-- whatever he was -- carriage wagon. Toro would have loved this, James thought, briefly. Then he wondered what had brought that on. He hadn't thought about Tom in... in a long time.
James got to his feet and splashed his face with water from a basin on the dresser.
He shook his head, and picked up the shield. He shifted it on to his back, noticing how his shirt felt loose by his arms. James shrugged it off and headed out of the room towards the smell of food. As he grew closer -- and he had to wonder if Magic could do this in their world, if it could, it should be used more often -- he could hear Tony and the Professor speaking.
"I can take you as far as the Laughing Goat Bridge, but you will have to walk from there, I am sorry to say. Though not sorry enough not to say it," the Professor quipped. "My daughter's home is not too much further once you are over that bridge. She should be home but if she is not, her husband will be near. You might find him out in the field with the crows, but he will know how to contact her."
"Hmm." Tony answered, groggily. He still looked like shit, but James decided to ignore that. How else was he supposed to be looking? Things weren't exactly what they should be here.
James pulled at his shirt, trying to get it to stop feeling so off. It’d been fine yesterday. "He's the Scarecrow?" James asked, and then coughed, his voice sounding kind of funny to his ears.
"A Scarecrow, yes." The Professor beamed up at him, while motioning for him to take a seat at the table. James did so and then couldn't help but dig into the food that was placed in front of him.
He stopped being so zealous when he realized that Stark was looking at him in an off way. "What?" James finally asked.
Tony rubbed a hand over his face and ended with running his fingers through his hair. "Nothing," He said, looking away.
Right.
"So, where are we going?" James thought to ask. Tony held his head in his hands. "We're going to see his daughter. She's going to get us home." He responded, almost painfully.
James lifted an eyebrow and looked over at the Professor to find that the man had left them there and had traveled off into the kitchen.
"Why is that a bad thing?" James asked, curiously.
"Because there's this bridge and it's protected by a troll and I really don't feel like doing this." Tony said tiredly.
James paused in mid-bite of his eggs. "Can't we just get some goats? Trolls hate goats, right?"
Tony opened his mouth and then closed it. James got the absurd feeling that Tony had been about to tell him to chew with his mouth closed.
"Young James is quite right. Trolls do hate goats, but this troll is quite harmless I assure you. You both may have magic clinging to you like fine sand but you are human," the Professor told them both.
"Hubert should have no issue with allowing you use of his bridge. And do take smaller bites, young man. You remind me of my eldest grandson."
James paused, and then he put down his fork and pushed his plate away. "What do you mean by magic clinging to us? Do you mean how we got here?"
The Professor smiled and there was an annoying twinkle in the man's eyes as he grabbed a book off of one of his various shelves. He tossed James the book and James caught it with one hand. Flipping it to look at its cover the book read: Magic and You.
James rolled his eyes. "It is a long trip my boy." The Professor answered. "Perhaps it would do good to put your mind to use. Try not to let your growing pains get the best of you, then."
James only glared at him. But as he pushed himself away from the table, he grabbed the book and took it with him back to his room, trying his best not to mutter, ‘crazy old man,’ under his breath.
***
Tony stood by the window of the magical caravan, watching the world go by. He wasn't certain how many hours had gone by, but it was darker now, perhaps night time soon (time was so different in this place). James had been in his room for most of the day and Tony wasn't complaining. He was worried about him for sure, but the slight twinge in his own chest wasn't going away and it was difficult to focus on anything else.
Tony couldn't tell if it was totally about his heart, or if it was at least partly about what the Professor and he had talked about throughout the day.
It was one thing knowing about astral planes and working off physics and logic that someone as powerful as Dr. Strange could manipulate, but this world, it seemed to be unhinged with magic. And the stories the Professor had been telling him about what the old man had seen and done, just made Tony want to get out of there even faster.
"You seem lost in thought, Anthony." Professor Marvel said, seeming to come out of nowhere. "Not that thoughts are a bad thing to be lost in, unless you never find your way out. They can be like dreams in that way."
Tony looked up and gave the Professor a wan smile. "I'm afraid wandering off into thoughts wasn't something I had much time for, before we came here."
"No, the other world can be like that, can it not? I must say I do not miss it." the Professor said, with a smile. He clapped Tony on the shoulder. "Come, we have stew for supper. I suspect young James will be hungry. Take care to keep the young man fed in the coming days."
"I think James will be able to take care of himself, Professor." Tony said, softly.
"Perhaps, perhaps."
***
James had indeed been hungry. He'd eaten like Tony had really only seen Peter Parker eat, but Tony supposed it was good that one of them had an appetite. Tony hadn't had much of one to speak of.
He'd been so tired that he'd gone to bed soon after dinner, and now lay watching the darkness move past the window. Every now and then he'd catch a glimpse of a Tower with a glowing light, or the stars through the trees.
He was exhausted, but he didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to dream of empty tracts of snow, and the cold seeping its way into his chest.
But despite himself. His eyes closed.
Tony slept.
Tony began to dream.
Tony felt the ice in his body; he felt the cold twist its way along his spine. It seeped deep into his bones and it was exactly how it always was. Every night. Damn ice.
Tony trudged along in the ice and snow, the barren wasteland of his surroundings eating at his thoughts.
Tony couldn’t express how difficult it was to concentrate when all he could feel was ice in his heart.
He kept moving, not knowing why he was bothering. It wasn't like the dream ever let him get anywhere. It was always just a vast, empty nothing and Tony never knew what it was that he was looking for, just that he had this overarching need to find... something and--
Tony stopped in the snow as a small cave became visible out in the distance. He'd never seen that before, at least not that he could remember. It was always just ice, snow, and the tightness in his chest.
He took a step in the cave’s direction and the wind seemed to push him back.
Almost encouraged by this, Tony pressed on towards the cave. Any change had to mean something. And anything was better than the endless fields of ice.
The dark smudge of the cave grew larger, and was almost a mercy on Tony's eyes. Everything here was a bright, blinding white. He could barely look at anything, but it was impossible not to see.
The closer he got, the harder the wind pushed and howled. Soon he could see a flicker of yellow light within the dark of the cave. Yellow light could mean warmth, something Tony was desperate for.
As he reached the cave, his eyes, so used to the brightness, could barely pick out a dark shape by a fire deeper in the cave.
"May I come in and share your fire?" Tony called, and wondered at himself for it. But he was learning that asking cost so little sometimes, in the long of it.
Tony held his breath.
But there was no answer. And Tony walked still further. He asked again, and it was then that the figure looked up at him and Tony saw his face.
Tony closed his eyes.
He opened them again.
Steve was still sitting by the fire, a blanket hanging loosely around his waist.
"Come on, Tony." Steve said, solemnly. "Just sit down."
Something made a sound -- pained and ragged-- and Tony realized with a start that it was his own voice. "This isn't real," he whispered brokenly even as he sat down beside Steve.
Close enough to touch. God, so close he could touch him. Tony wanted to so much. He was so cold and Steve had to be warmer.
Instead, he held his hands close to the fire.
"I'm real," Steve said, in the same solemnly tone. "As real as you are, here…"
Tony let the warmth of the fire distract him for as long as he could stand.
"Steve, I-I meant to tell you--"
"Did you find my shield, Tony?" Captain America interrupted him. Tony tried to look up over at him, but couldn't lift his eyes all the way.
He wasn't sure if it was from guilt, or if it was fear that if he looked and examined Steve too closely, the other man might just up and disappear.
"Yes, I found it, Steve." Tony told him, his voice wavering. Their knees brushed against each other as Tony shifted. "James is carrying it. It's -- safe with him.”
"Bucky."
"Yes, Bucky. I'm - I'll take care of him for you, Steve. I promise." Tony reached out to the fire, barely feeling the heat. "You've been...I haven't seen you in a while. Here."
The blond made a low noise in the back of his throat.
"Steve." Tony said, looking over at him and shooting his hand out to reach Steve's shoulder. He stopped himself an inch away, and slowly dropped his hand. Steve watched him quietly.
"I didn't know Bucky would be here, too." Steve's voice was tight in concern. "And... I'm s-" Steve took a breath. "I'm sorry that I couldn't talk with you sooner. It's not really up to me when I can... talk."
Tony ached to touch Steve, to comfort him somehow. "Bucky has saved me twice so far, mostly for your sake." Tony told him softly. "He’ll be okay.” Tony’s body tensed. “Steve -- I'd cut out my heart for you. Just… tell me how to help you."
Steve looked horrified even through his pain. "N-no." He shook his head. "Tony, if I lose you I think I would lose what's left of myself. You’re my only tie left."
"I want to touch you so badly." The words were out of Tony's mouth before he could call them back.
Tony looked at Steve, trying to gauge his reaction, trying to force his heart to stop pounding -- but his heart didn't belong to him anymore. He didn't get to tell it what to do since now all he had were gears and metal pieces.
"I-I'm sorry, I have no right to say things like that. I'm just--" But before he could finish, Steve had his hand on Tony's face.
And those fingers were warm. It wasn't like Steve was a ghost. It felt like Steve was as alive as he'd ever been. "Steve-"
"Don't leave me, Tony." Steve responded. "Don't give up on me, again."
Tony searched the other man's eyes for clarity. ‘Never,’ Tony wanted to say, but his lips wouldn’t form the word.
"We both made a lot of mistakes that we're not proud of, but I was always yours, Tony. So you can't give up." Steve's voice was calm and sad and that made it painful for Tony to listen.
Tony couldn't give up on himself, not like he'd wanted to just a day ago on that path by the meadow. If he did, he'd be giving up on Steve and--
"Tell me what to do to help you." Tony pleaded.
Steve's thumb ran across Tony's cheek. "I -- " He suddenly grimaced, his eyes falling momentarily shut. When he opened them they were bright with pain. "I - I need you to go right instead of left."
Before Tony could ask what that meant or how that would help, Steve leaned forward. Their lips met fleetingly, and then -- then Steve gone.
Tony was left with nothing but the warmth on his lips and face, as the cold came rushing back into his bones and the fire gutted itself.
He awoke gasping for air and clutching at his clockwork heart.
***
James passed Tony for the third time as he moved around the inside of the carriage.
Stark was still sitting in the alcove near the wagon's window staring out the portal, avoiding everyone's gaze. James wasn't sure what was going on, but Tony had barely spoken at all that day.
James had tried to make small talk earlier, but had given up in lieu of poking around in the magical caravan.
He wanted to ask the Professor if his clothes had been switched out in the night and he was hiding them somewhere, or some reason. He’d had to belt his pants tighter to keep them up, and his shirt kept slipping down on his shoulder. He paused tugging it up again, wondering if he should say something to Tony.
He looked back over at Tony.
There was a tight worry in James’ stomach when he looked at the other man and he didn't like it. He didn't want to worry about Tony like that.
"We will be at where I will leave you two, soon," the Professor said, popping out of nowhere.
He seemed to have that habit.
He was carrying some clothing and a pair of boots. "I thought you might need these, young man. I had picked them up from a friend of mine for one of my grandsons, but your need, I think, is greater."
James blinked at him dumbly for a surprised second, before shaking his head clear and taking what the man offered him.
"Wha- why are you--?" James began, but the older man simply smiled at him.
"You should not need to spend time thinking about the clothes on your back when it is your back that you should be thinking about." He replied.
James frowned. He wished the man would make sense for once.
"You will find," the Professor continued. "That these clothes will fit no matter what. The boots once had seven leagues, but they are only down to one now. Still, they always fit the wearer and even one league is better than none."
"Thanks, I think." James responded, as the older man nodded at him and then moved off to where Tony was sitting.
James didn't listen in, instead he went to go and try on his new clothes.
Might as well put them to use…
The new clothes and the boots fit perfectly. He had sworn when he first saw the trousers and tunic, he'd thought that they had been green, but now they seemed to be black.
He tucked his old clothes into his pack, and picked up both that and the shield. As he walked back into the main room, Tony looked away from the window.
"Ready to go home, James?" Tony asked. He was rubbing his hand over where his clockwork heart was.
Of course he was ready to go home -- at least he thought he was. Back to living in Steve's apartment, doing Steve's job, wearing Steve's name -- James ran his finger over the edge of the shield. "What about your heart?"
Tony shrugged. "I'll live with it or I won't." He smiled slightly. "Don't worry, if I die you get Steve's sketch pad."
‘That's not what I meant,’ James almost said. But he stopped himself. "Whatever." He countered dismissively, as he felt the wagon come to a stop.
Both men looked at their host expectantly. Professor Marvel took the lead out of the caravan.
Outside, the hills and forests stretched on for miles. A bridge stood directly in front of them and off in the distance, dark mountains loomed.
James heard Tony thank the Professor as the chipper man made his way back into the wagon.
"Oh and Anthony?" Professor Marvel called, his tone serious for once. "You will know the right thing to do."
Tony waved a farewell. The wagon creaked away slowly and then picked up more and more speed until they could see nothing but a blur as it went out of sight.
James was almost going to miss the old guy.
"Need me to take the pack?" Tony asked. "You're already handling the shield."
James took in the dark circles around Tony's eyes and shook his head. "Nah, I can handle it. We should start walking if we want to get to this witch before sunset."
"Okay," Tony said, not arguing. He trudged forward and they both passed over the bridge together.
"Hey Hubert," James said softly, even though he couldn't see any mention of a troll. Apparently they really did just hate goats...
They continued along the dusty yellow path, its course straight and narrow.
***
Tony wished his feet weren't feeling quite so heavy. They really hadn't been walking for all that long. No more then an hour at the most.
And for the majority of that time the two men had stayed silent. Every once and a while James would jog on ahead to "scope things out" but Tony could tell it was just because Tony was slowing him down. He wasn't sure where James was getting all this energy from. It was almost...endearing.
Tony himself, was lost in thought. He'd been thinking about the dream he’d had for most of the day, and even now he couldn't stop imagining the touch of Steve's hand against his face. The warm glide of Steve's lips…
Tony shook his head and focused on the white of the shield’s star as James jogged ahead again. Steve would be proud to see James wearing it. He should have given it to James in the first place instead of sinking it to the bottom of the ocean.
Up ahead, James had come to a stop at a fork in the road. There was an old signpost with faded lettering pointing both right and left -- Tony wasn't even sure of which direction they were going, let alone if the arrows were pointing north, south, east or west.
The path to the left was well used, and blue sky could be seen through the tree tops. The path to the right was overgrown. The overhanging branches and tree-tops seemed to block out most of the sunlight. It seemed impossible that two paths so close could look so different.
"I'm really sick of fairytale logic," Tony mumbled, sitting down on a large boulder by the signpost. He dug out of his smaller pack the canteen Professor Marvel had given him and took a drink of cider, then offered it to James.
"Thanks," James said, taking it. He took a swig and then returned it to Tony.
James moved to look at the signpost while Tony sat there, trying to get his chest to ease up a bit.
"Okay," James said, squinting. "From what I can make out here, and according to our crazy Professor friend, we go left. That's what he said, we go left?"
James looked at Tony who rubbed a hand on his chest. "What?"
"Left or right, Stark?" James repeated.
Tony closed his eyes for a moment. "Depends on where we want to go," he finally said. He opened his eyes again and looked up at James.
"What are you talking about?" James asked, as though worried that Tony was going insane again.
"But that wouldn't be fair to you. You want to go back -- you have Natasha," Tony said. "We -- to go home, we go left."
"Tony, please just tell me what’s wrong."
James' voice sounded so young, and he looked at Tony in a way that Tony didn't think he'd ever done before. It was almost as painful as when Steve looked at him like that.
Tony clenched his jaw tight, and then he sighed. "Last night, Steve said. He said, go right." Tony lowered his head, feeling as crazy as he was certain he sounded. "He said go right."
"I thought you hadn't had anymore dreams since we came here." James said, quietly. It almost sounded like an accusation from an angry child.
Tony didn't look up. "I hadn't until last night. He asked if I had found his shield. I told him you were carrying it. I told him--" Tony cut himself off from saying 'I told him I'd take care of you'.
He heard the shuffle of James' boots on the ground. "How do you know it was him?"
"I just do," Tony sighed. He looked up at James and smiled slightly. "I just do. He needs our help, James. And he wants us to go right." Then Tony shook his head. "I mean, you could go lef--"
"Then we go right." James interrupted him. He seemed to grip the straps to the shield tighter. "Hurry up. I don't feel like spending a night out in the woods."
James continued, turning on his heel and walking to his right. "Come on," he said, a bit gentler.
Tony tried to mask the gratitude on his face. He pushed himself up with some effort and the two walked right, off into the shadows and the dark dead underbrush.
Chapter 5: The Village
Authors:
kijikun and pandanoaiRating: R
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Tony (implied), James "Bucky" Barnes
Warning: Strong Language, AU, Unbetaed (unless you count Panda, which I do - Kiji)
A/N: This fic disregards Secret Invasion. These are not the skrulls you are looking for. Concrit is love.
Word Count: 5458
Summary: Chapter 4 - In which our heroes met a wizard, Tony has a dream, and James acquires new clothes.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
Chapter Four: The Crossroads
The object stopped suddenly as the light fell on them, as if it sensed that there were people in its path. It creaked to a halt and Tony found himself staring at a wagon with faded red paint. He closed his eyes rubbing the back of his hand across his face, and then reopened them.
The wagon was still there.
"You’re seeing this too, right?" Tony asked James, with a sidelong glance.
James nodded. "This isn't exactly where I'd expect to see a carnival wagon," He muttered.
"I'm more worried about the fact it was too fast to see properly a moment ago, and then it stopped on a dime," Tony told him. He frowned, wondering if he should knock or if they should just walk past. Was there some fairytale with this sort of thing? He hated trying to figure things out like that.
He hated this place, he hated magic, and he was tired. God, he was just so tired.
"Let's keep going," James said, giving the wagon a wide berth. "I'm sick of dealing with all the magical crap this place keeps throwing at us."
Tony opened his mouth to tell James that he had just invited something to happen, when something did happen.
A soft chime came from the carriage and then with a loud pop a canopy unfurled and panels of the wagon dropped -- revealing bright red and gold paint. The canopy was similarly colored.
An elderly man leaned through the window, smiling like a peddler who'd just found customers in the desert. He had several gallons of water -- and Tony might have been a little thirsty. "Hello, hello. I had heard there were some travelers from my world along this path tonight. You must be those two. Or those two must be you." The man chuckled. "You must forgive me, my mind is going, and a mind is a terrible thing to waste."
Tony resisted the urge to sigh and glare, and instead nodded at the man rather curtly.
He older man simply smiled back in a wide and effortless way, and drummed a seemingly random rhythm upon the outside of the carriage. "But you would not waste your minds, would you boys? Or your times! Or time, rather. No, you have a place to be. I can tell."
Tony tilted his head at the old man but before he could speak, James stepped in front of him, blocking his vision of the entire wagon. "Let's go." James said, crossing his arms.
Tony let his focus shift from the carriage to the man in front of him. He'd put James through enough tonight. He'd been through enough tonight, too.
So he nodded and let James take the lead, ignoring the old man completely.
Or he tried to… Tony let his gaze flicker to the man out of the corner of his vision. He was still hanging out of the window smiling, sending crinkles to the corners of his eyes.
"Are you sure you want to do that, Mr. Stark? I thought you were looking for me."
Tony blinked and both he and James stopped immediately. Tony turned back to the wagon slowly.
"You're the Wizard?" But then, what had Tony been expecting? The more Tony thought about it, it really didn't seem like that odd of an idea for the old man to the wizard. Suddenly, Tony laughed. "The Wizard of Oz, I presume?"
The man chuckled. "Formerly. Though really, it was more of Odd than of Oz. You may call me Professor Marvel. It is my title, my name, and once was my game."
"We've had more than enough of magic tonight," James spat. Tony couldn't see his face, but he assumed James was scowling.
"Are you not the protective young man, or is that more a young man to be protected?” The Professor said, quite amused. “But you seem confident, and confidence is key. As are chocolate chips." Professor Marvel told him. "But as for magic, it is a rather good thing you have had your fill of it because I cannot work a drop. Stay right there. I will open the door."
The Professor pulled his head in through the window.
Tony turned to James.
"We can't walk all night," He said, softly.
James turned his head and glared. "Do you want to get yourself killed?"
Tony shrugged. Then he added, "I'm tired, hungry, and dying for something to drink, James. And you look --" James looked tired as well, and young and worried. "-- like you could use a rest. I think we can take one old man between us. If he is the Wizard of OZ -- then he doesn't have any magic. Remember the story?"
James didn’t look convinced, and he nodded just as the door opened, silencing whatever he'd been about to say.
"Come in and come in," the Professor called. "There are wolves that walk like men in these woods, and you are just the sort they would like to add to the pack, Anthony."
Tony paused slightly when the old man said his first name, but he made his way into the wagon, ready to duck his head and be cramped into the small enclosure. He closed his eyes, trying not to think of how close he'd come to being added to the pack. And how badly he'd wanted to go with Lycaeus.
He heard James' footsteps in tow behind him.
Tony opened his eyes.
He stopped in his tracks. The inside of the carriage was massive. It was about the size of a floor in Avenger Tower. It was brightly lit and packed to the teeth with various artifacts that just didn't seem possible. From fairy wings and a dragon’s egg to things Tony couldn't even place…
"Do you want me to come in or not?" He heard James say, as Tony had stopped right in front of the other man, blocking his way. Tony tried not to gape as he stood to the side and let James enter.
James gaped.
Tony almost thought to laugh, but instead he turned back to the Professor determined to ask what they should do about their situation. Instead he found himself accepting a mug filled with an amber liquid.
"Drink. Drink and think tomorrow, my new friends." The Professor voiced, handing a mug to James as well.
Tony eyed it suspiciously, taking a whiff of its smell.
"It's apple cider." James reported sourly, from Tony's left.
Tony almost laughed again.
Instead, he drank gratefully. "Thank you," he told the Professor. Then he sighed. "But how did you know we were looking for you?"
“Ah, yes.” The old man grinned. "These things get around, and one of the trees along the path took a fancy to young James. She made sure I was informed," Professor Marvel said off handedly, then he peered closer at James. "Hmm."
James was still gazing around in open amazement. Granted Tony had never seen anything quite like this—still he'd seen some odd things when visiting Stephen Strange (Stephen would probably love to get his hands on some of these items)—but he certainly wasn't gaping like a fish. Tony almost said as much, when he stopped himself.
James had probably never been in Strange's home. Tony took another drink of his cider, and watched James. He'd never seen James so wide-eyed before.
"If you don't have magic how do you explain the wagon?" Tony asked, as the thought sprang to his mind.
Professor Marvel smiled, looking away from his study of James. "I have friends that look after me. My daughter is a witch after all. The bee's knees of witches I might say, if bees had knees, or if that was something I would say."
Tony chuckled at that.
"Now let me show you both to your beds, we can talk over breakfast come morning. I am sure you are both very anxious to be home," the Professor said. Tony swore he almost winked at him.
"Y-yes." Tony said, hesitantly. He looked over at James who had set his features back to rigid and reserved. "We want to get home." he added, almost quietly, as though it were in defeat.
But Tony knew that was absurd. He hadn't asked for this, and... and he couldn't bring Steve back.
He couldn’t bring Steve back. He knew that logically but Tony couldn't really bring himself to believe that... but he'd do his best to figure things out from his world. A world in which all of this damn magic didn't run amok.
"We do want to get home, so if you'll just tell us--"
"My goodness, patience is still listed among the virtues, Mr. Stark." The older man interrupted him, waving them both back to where he apparently had beds for them. "We will have plenty of time for all of that tomorrow. We have a ways to travel, you see? And you are barely standing as it is."
"That's true." James replied, walking after the Professor. Tony just glared and tried to get his legs to stop feeling so weak. He bit his tongue and followed James.
"Thought you didn't want to end up killed." He hissed at him.
"Oh," James snorted. "I'm not sleeping for a while tonight. And don't think you can just pass out either."
Tony inhaled deeply, and stopped when he noticed that the Professor had turned to them once again and was smiling.
"Would you like to share a room or be separate?" The man asked, jovially.
"Separate." Tony and James said in unison. They looked at each other briefly, before the old man laughed again, and showed them to their rooms.
James could have sworn that he'd only closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again there was sun pouring in through the window. Sitting up he blurrily rubbed his eyes, trying to get his bearings. His brain felt a bit sluggish, and his stomach grumbled at the smell of food. He always had loved bacon.
Looking around, everything fell into place, they were in that ridiculous Wizard's -- Professor's-- whatever he was -- carriage wagon. Toro would have loved this, James thought, briefly. Then he wondered what had brought that on. He hadn't thought about Tom in... in a long time.
James got to his feet and splashed his face with water from a basin on the dresser.
He shook his head, and picked up the shield. He shifted it on to his back, noticing how his shirt felt loose by his arms. James shrugged it off and headed out of the room towards the smell of food. As he grew closer -- and he had to wonder if Magic could do this in their world, if it could, it should be used more often -- he could hear Tony and the Professor speaking.
"I can take you as far as the Laughing Goat Bridge, but you will have to walk from there, I am sorry to say. Though not sorry enough not to say it," the Professor quipped. "My daughter's home is not too much further once you are over that bridge. She should be home but if she is not, her husband will be near. You might find him out in the field with the crows, but he will know how to contact her."
"Hmm." Tony answered, groggily. He still looked like shit, but James decided to ignore that. How else was he supposed to be looking? Things weren't exactly what they should be here.
James pulled at his shirt, trying to get it to stop feeling so off. It’d been fine yesterday. "He's the Scarecrow?" James asked, and then coughed, his voice sounding kind of funny to his ears.
"A Scarecrow, yes." The Professor beamed up at him, while motioning for him to take a seat at the table. James did so and then couldn't help but dig into the food that was placed in front of him.
He stopped being so zealous when he realized that Stark was looking at him in an off way. "What?" James finally asked.
Tony rubbed a hand over his face and ended with running his fingers through his hair. "Nothing," He said, looking away.
Right.
"So, where are we going?" James thought to ask. Tony held his head in his hands. "We're going to see his daughter. She's going to get us home." He responded, almost painfully.
James lifted an eyebrow and looked over at the Professor to find that the man had left them there and had traveled off into the kitchen.
"Why is that a bad thing?" James asked, curiously.
"Because there's this bridge and it's protected by a troll and I really don't feel like doing this." Tony said tiredly.
James paused in mid-bite of his eggs. "Can't we just get some goats? Trolls hate goats, right?"
Tony opened his mouth and then closed it. James got the absurd feeling that Tony had been about to tell him to chew with his mouth closed.
"Young James is quite right. Trolls do hate goats, but this troll is quite harmless I assure you. You both may have magic clinging to you like fine sand but you are human," the Professor told them both.
"Hubert should have no issue with allowing you use of his bridge. And do take smaller bites, young man. You remind me of my eldest grandson."
James paused, and then he put down his fork and pushed his plate away. "What do you mean by magic clinging to us? Do you mean how we got here?"
The Professor smiled and there was an annoying twinkle in the man's eyes as he grabbed a book off of one of his various shelves. He tossed James the book and James caught it with one hand. Flipping it to look at its cover the book read: Magic and You.
James rolled his eyes. "It is a long trip my boy." The Professor answered. "Perhaps it would do good to put your mind to use. Try not to let your growing pains get the best of you, then."
James only glared at him. But as he pushed himself away from the table, he grabbed the book and took it with him back to his room, trying his best not to mutter, ‘crazy old man,’ under his breath.
Tony stood by the window of the magical caravan, watching the world go by. He wasn't certain how many hours had gone by, but it was darker now, perhaps night time soon (time was so different in this place). James had been in his room for most of the day and Tony wasn't complaining. He was worried about him for sure, but the slight twinge in his own chest wasn't going away and it was difficult to focus on anything else.
Tony couldn't tell if it was totally about his heart, or if it was at least partly about what the Professor and he had talked about throughout the day.
It was one thing knowing about astral planes and working off physics and logic that someone as powerful as Dr. Strange could manipulate, but this world, it seemed to be unhinged with magic. And the stories the Professor had been telling him about what the old man had seen and done, just made Tony want to get out of there even faster.
"You seem lost in thought, Anthony." Professor Marvel said, seeming to come out of nowhere. "Not that thoughts are a bad thing to be lost in, unless you never find your way out. They can be like dreams in that way."
Tony looked up and gave the Professor a wan smile. "I'm afraid wandering off into thoughts wasn't something I had much time for, before we came here."
"No, the other world can be like that, can it not? I must say I do not miss it." the Professor said, with a smile. He clapped Tony on the shoulder. "Come, we have stew for supper. I suspect young James will be hungry. Take care to keep the young man fed in the coming days."
"I think James will be able to take care of himself, Professor." Tony said, softly.
"Perhaps, perhaps."
James had indeed been hungry. He'd eaten like Tony had really only seen Peter Parker eat, but Tony supposed it was good that one of them had an appetite. Tony hadn't had much of one to speak of.
He'd been so tired that he'd gone to bed soon after dinner, and now lay watching the darkness move past the window. Every now and then he'd catch a glimpse of a Tower with a glowing light, or the stars through the trees.
He was exhausted, but he didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to dream of empty tracts of snow, and the cold seeping its way into his chest.
But despite himself. His eyes closed.
Tony slept.
Tony began to dream.
Tony felt the ice in his body; he felt the cold twist its way along his spine. It seeped deep into his bones and it was exactly how it always was. Every night. Damn ice.
Tony trudged along in the ice and snow, the barren wasteland of his surroundings eating at his thoughts.
Tony couldn’t express how difficult it was to concentrate when all he could feel was ice in his heart.
He kept moving, not knowing why he was bothering. It wasn't like the dream ever let him get anywhere. It was always just a vast, empty nothing and Tony never knew what it was that he was looking for, just that he had this overarching need to find... something and--
Tony stopped in the snow as a small cave became visible out in the distance. He'd never seen that before, at least not that he could remember. It was always just ice, snow, and the tightness in his chest.
He took a step in the cave’s direction and the wind seemed to push him back.
Almost encouraged by this, Tony pressed on towards the cave. Any change had to mean something. And anything was better than the endless fields of ice.
The dark smudge of the cave grew larger, and was almost a mercy on Tony's eyes. Everything here was a bright, blinding white. He could barely look at anything, but it was impossible not to see.
The closer he got, the harder the wind pushed and howled. Soon he could see a flicker of yellow light within the dark of the cave. Yellow light could mean warmth, something Tony was desperate for.
As he reached the cave, his eyes, so used to the brightness, could barely pick out a dark shape by a fire deeper in the cave.
"May I come in and share your fire?" Tony called, and wondered at himself for it. But he was learning that asking cost so little sometimes, in the long of it.
Tony held his breath.
But there was no answer. And Tony walked still further. He asked again, and it was then that the figure looked up at him and Tony saw his face.
Tony closed his eyes.
He opened them again.
Steve was still sitting by the fire, a blanket hanging loosely around his waist.
"Come on, Tony." Steve said, solemnly. "Just sit down."
Something made a sound -- pained and ragged-- and Tony realized with a start that it was his own voice. "This isn't real," he whispered brokenly even as he sat down beside Steve.
Close enough to touch. God, so close he could touch him. Tony wanted to so much. He was so cold and Steve had to be warmer.
Instead, he held his hands close to the fire.
"I'm real," Steve said, in the same solemnly tone. "As real as you are, here…"
Tony let the warmth of the fire distract him for as long as he could stand.
"Steve, I-I meant to tell you--"
"Did you find my shield, Tony?" Captain America interrupted him. Tony tried to look up over at him, but couldn't lift his eyes all the way.
He wasn't sure if it was from guilt, or if it was fear that if he looked and examined Steve too closely, the other man might just up and disappear.
"Yes, I found it, Steve." Tony told him, his voice wavering. Their knees brushed against each other as Tony shifted. "James is carrying it. It's -- safe with him.”
"Bucky."
"Yes, Bucky. I'm - I'll take care of him for you, Steve. I promise." Tony reached out to the fire, barely feeling the heat. "You've been...I haven't seen you in a while. Here."
The blond made a low noise in the back of his throat.
"Steve." Tony said, looking over at him and shooting his hand out to reach Steve's shoulder. He stopped himself an inch away, and slowly dropped his hand. Steve watched him quietly.
"I didn't know Bucky would be here, too." Steve's voice was tight in concern. "And... I'm s-" Steve took a breath. "I'm sorry that I couldn't talk with you sooner. It's not really up to me when I can... talk."
Tony ached to touch Steve, to comfort him somehow. "Bucky has saved me twice so far, mostly for your sake." Tony told him softly. "He’ll be okay.” Tony’s body tensed. “Steve -- I'd cut out my heart for you. Just… tell me how to help you."
Steve looked horrified even through his pain. "N-no." He shook his head. "Tony, if I lose you I think I would lose what's left of myself. You’re my only tie left."
"I want to touch you so badly." The words were out of Tony's mouth before he could call them back.
Tony looked at Steve, trying to gauge his reaction, trying to force his heart to stop pounding -- but his heart didn't belong to him anymore. He didn't get to tell it what to do since now all he had were gears and metal pieces.
"I-I'm sorry, I have no right to say things like that. I'm just--" But before he could finish, Steve had his hand on Tony's face.
And those fingers were warm. It wasn't like Steve was a ghost. It felt like Steve was as alive as he'd ever been. "Steve-"
"Don't leave me, Tony." Steve responded. "Don't give up on me, again."
Tony searched the other man's eyes for clarity. ‘Never,’ Tony wanted to say, but his lips wouldn’t form the word.
"We both made a lot of mistakes that we're not proud of, but I was always yours, Tony. So you can't give up." Steve's voice was calm and sad and that made it painful for Tony to listen.
Tony couldn't give up on himself, not like he'd wanted to just a day ago on that path by the meadow. If he did, he'd be giving up on Steve and--
"Tell me what to do to help you." Tony pleaded.
Steve's thumb ran across Tony's cheek. "I -- " He suddenly grimaced, his eyes falling momentarily shut. When he opened them they were bright with pain. "I - I need you to go right instead of left."
Before Tony could ask what that meant or how that would help, Steve leaned forward. Their lips met fleetingly, and then -- then Steve gone.
Tony was left with nothing but the warmth on his lips and face, as the cold came rushing back into his bones and the fire gutted itself.
He awoke gasping for air and clutching at his clockwork heart.
James passed Tony for the third time as he moved around the inside of the carriage.
Stark was still sitting in the alcove near the wagon's window staring out the portal, avoiding everyone's gaze. James wasn't sure what was going on, but Tony had barely spoken at all that day.
James had tried to make small talk earlier, but had given up in lieu of poking around in the magical caravan.
He wanted to ask the Professor if his clothes had been switched out in the night and he was hiding them somewhere, or some reason. He’d had to belt his pants tighter to keep them up, and his shirt kept slipping down on his shoulder. He paused tugging it up again, wondering if he should say something to Tony.
He looked back over at Tony.
There was a tight worry in James’ stomach when he looked at the other man and he didn't like it. He didn't want to worry about Tony like that.
"We will be at where I will leave you two, soon," the Professor said, popping out of nowhere.
He seemed to have that habit.
He was carrying some clothing and a pair of boots. "I thought you might need these, young man. I had picked them up from a friend of mine for one of my grandsons, but your need, I think, is greater."
James blinked at him dumbly for a surprised second, before shaking his head clear and taking what the man offered him.
"Wha- why are you--?" James began, but the older man simply smiled at him.
"You should not need to spend time thinking about the clothes on your back when it is your back that you should be thinking about." He replied.
James frowned. He wished the man would make sense for once.
"You will find," the Professor continued. "That these clothes will fit no matter what. The boots once had seven leagues, but they are only down to one now. Still, they always fit the wearer and even one league is better than none."
"Thanks, I think." James responded, as the older man nodded at him and then moved off to where Tony was sitting.
James didn't listen in, instead he went to go and try on his new clothes.
Might as well put them to use…
The new clothes and the boots fit perfectly. He had sworn when he first saw the trousers and tunic, he'd thought that they had been green, but now they seemed to be black.
He tucked his old clothes into his pack, and picked up both that and the shield. As he walked back into the main room, Tony looked away from the window.
"Ready to go home, James?" Tony asked. He was rubbing his hand over where his clockwork heart was.
Of course he was ready to go home -- at least he thought he was. Back to living in Steve's apartment, doing Steve's job, wearing Steve's name -- James ran his finger over the edge of the shield. "What about your heart?"
Tony shrugged. "I'll live with it or I won't." He smiled slightly. "Don't worry, if I die you get Steve's sketch pad."
‘That's not what I meant,’ James almost said. But he stopped himself. "Whatever." He countered dismissively, as he felt the wagon come to a stop.
Both men looked at their host expectantly. Professor Marvel took the lead out of the caravan.
Outside, the hills and forests stretched on for miles. A bridge stood directly in front of them and off in the distance, dark mountains loomed.
James heard Tony thank the Professor as the chipper man made his way back into the wagon.
"Oh and Anthony?" Professor Marvel called, his tone serious for once. "You will know the right thing to do."
Tony waved a farewell. The wagon creaked away slowly and then picked up more and more speed until they could see nothing but a blur as it went out of sight.
James was almost going to miss the old guy.
"Need me to take the pack?" Tony asked. "You're already handling the shield."
James took in the dark circles around Tony's eyes and shook his head. "Nah, I can handle it. We should start walking if we want to get to this witch before sunset."
"Okay," Tony said, not arguing. He trudged forward and they both passed over the bridge together.
"Hey Hubert," James said softly, even though he couldn't see any mention of a troll. Apparently they really did just hate goats...
They continued along the dusty yellow path, its course straight and narrow.
Tony wished his feet weren't feeling quite so heavy. They really hadn't been walking for all that long. No more then an hour at the most.
And for the majority of that time the two men had stayed silent. Every once and a while James would jog on ahead to "scope things out" but Tony could tell it was just because Tony was slowing him down. He wasn't sure where James was getting all this energy from. It was almost...endearing.
Tony himself, was lost in thought. He'd been thinking about the dream he’d had for most of the day, and even now he couldn't stop imagining the touch of Steve's hand against his face. The warm glide of Steve's lips…
Tony shook his head and focused on the white of the shield’s star as James jogged ahead again. Steve would be proud to see James wearing it. He should have given it to James in the first place instead of sinking it to the bottom of the ocean.
Up ahead, James had come to a stop at a fork in the road. There was an old signpost with faded lettering pointing both right and left -- Tony wasn't even sure of which direction they were going, let alone if the arrows were pointing north, south, east or west.
The path to the left was well used, and blue sky could be seen through the tree tops. The path to the right was overgrown. The overhanging branches and tree-tops seemed to block out most of the sunlight. It seemed impossible that two paths so close could look so different.
"I'm really sick of fairytale logic," Tony mumbled, sitting down on a large boulder by the signpost. He dug out of his smaller pack the canteen Professor Marvel had given him and took a drink of cider, then offered it to James.
"Thanks," James said, taking it. He took a swig and then returned it to Tony.
James moved to look at the signpost while Tony sat there, trying to get his chest to ease up a bit.
"Okay," James said, squinting. "From what I can make out here, and according to our crazy Professor friend, we go left. That's what he said, we go left?"
James looked at Tony who rubbed a hand on his chest. "What?"
"Left or right, Stark?" James repeated.
Tony closed his eyes for a moment. "Depends on where we want to go," he finally said. He opened his eyes again and looked up at James.
"What are you talking about?" James asked, as though worried that Tony was going insane again.
"But that wouldn't be fair to you. You want to go back -- you have Natasha," Tony said. "We -- to go home, we go left."
"Tony, please just tell me what’s wrong."
James' voice sounded so young, and he looked at Tony in a way that Tony didn't think he'd ever done before. It was almost as painful as when Steve looked at him like that.
Tony clenched his jaw tight, and then he sighed. "Last night, Steve said. He said, go right." Tony lowered his head, feeling as crazy as he was certain he sounded. "He said go right."
"I thought you hadn't had anymore dreams since we came here." James said, quietly. It almost sounded like an accusation from an angry child.
Tony didn't look up. "I hadn't until last night. He asked if I had found his shield. I told him you were carrying it. I told him--" Tony cut himself off from saying 'I told him I'd take care of you'.
He heard the shuffle of James' boots on the ground. "How do you know it was him?"
"I just do," Tony sighed. He looked up at James and smiled slightly. "I just do. He needs our help, James. And he wants us to go right." Then Tony shook his head. "I mean, you could go lef--"
"Then we go right." James interrupted him. He seemed to grip the straps to the shield tighter. "Hurry up. I don't feel like spending a night out in the woods."
James continued, turning on his heel and walking to his right. "Come on," he said, a bit gentler.
Tony tried to mask the gratitude on his face. He pushed himself up with some effort and the two walked right, off into the shadows and the dark dead underbrush.
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I love you. Seriously.
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