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cap_ironman2010-05-12 03:58 am
(FIC) Mouths of Madness ch.2
Author: GlasgowSmiles
Rating: R
Warning/Spoilers: AU (multiverse)
Pairing: Steves/Tonys (and Steve/Natasha, and eventually a touch of Stephanie/Tony...)
Word Count: 3,422
Beta: The fantastic ellyr_in_ink and any mistakes are mine
A/N: The promised sequel to 'You Were Made For Me'. In this chapter, I hurt some Tonys.
Summary: Hey, remember how Anthony shows up with a dire warning and then it's practically a romantic freakin' comedy and nobody fights any aliens? Yeah, I didn't forget about that. This time there's action.
“Idiot,” Steve sighed, as he’d been doing every half hour since he’d carried Tony to the makeshift hospital wing.
Tony’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled faintly. “I’m fine.”
“You’re lucky.”
“Yeah.”
Another Steve Rogers—Natasha’s, Steve guessed, since he didn’t have a number—pulled a chair up next to Tony’s bed.
“Really lucky,” he added. “Armor should be fixed by the time you’re cleared to go back out there. You should rest now while you’ve got the chance—I don’t know if anyone will be able to stay in here as long as they really should, but... Anyway, you should at least try to take care of yourself.”
“At least you didn’t electrocute yourself this time.” Steve brushed Tony’s hair back off his forehead.
“Or stop your heart.” The other Steve crossed his arms. “Tasha’s pulled that one.”
“Or exposed myself to any plagues,” Tony grinned weakly, only to have both Steves frown at him. “Okay, okay, I’m resting. I’m—“ A yawn. “Yeah. I’m resting...”
The other Steve stood by, until Tony’s breathing evened out. “What’s it like? Him being a man, I mean.”
“Well... I mean, we haven’t—“
“I know.”
Steve made a close inspection of the carpet, hands gesturing uselessly. “—done anything, so—“
“I remember, you said. But... kissing a guy. Is it... is it weird?”
Steve shrugged. “Different from a girl, I guess. Not that different, I mean, kissing’s kissing, but the beard’s sort of...”
“But you know where you stand with a girl,” the other Steve struggled, eyes resolutely on a different part of the carpet. He discovered he had no real pockets to speak of and settled for holding the back of an empty chair in a death grip. “When you kiss another guy, how do you know... I mean, who’s... I mean... well...”
“The man?”
“Yeah. Not to be blunt, but how do you know?”
“We both are.” Steve shrugged. “I know where I stand with Tony. Besides, he’s tall enough it isn’t awkward or anything. Nobody has to get a crick in their neck.” He grinned broadly.
The other Steve laughed, then leaned in, tone conspiratorial. “Honestly? Even with Tasha being a woman, I’m pretty sure I’m still the wife.”
Steve chuckled, relaxing marginally.
“ All the stuff I always figured—back in the old days—that I’d be doing, that’s what she does." The other Steve continued, one hand still resting lightly on the chair. "Makes all the money, kinda takes the lead, you know, romantically. Does that thing at parties where she puts her hand on my back. And she can’t cook. Not that I actually have to, either, I guess, but... I dunno, it’s nice. It’s not at all what I ever thought, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. So... if she’s a he in your universe, it doesn’t surprise me you’d—you know, go for him anyway. But wow, I never really pictured she would be. In almost all of them.”
“We’re always together, aren’t we?”
He nodded. “Think so. Makes sense to me. Don’t know where I’d be without her.”
“I don’t want to go back out there yet... while he’s still—“
“You shouldn’t. But don’t sit up over him, either—you might not get too many chances to rest. There are some cots stacked up over against the wall there. Grab one, set it up by his bed, and take a nap. Someone will wake you for your shift. Speaking of, I should get out there.”
“Kick some ass,” Tony murmured, half-asleep.
“Yessir.” The other Steve smirked, one hand coming up in a mock salute. “See you later.”
---/-/---
When Tony woke up, it was to another version of himself standing over his bed with an Iron Man helmet tucked under each arm.
“Wake up. Got your armor patched. You know he probably almost took out one of your lungs? Lucky you got away with just a gash.”
“Let ‘im rip my lungs out,” Tony muttered, pulling the thin pillow over his face. “’s better’n learning country swing.”
“Thought it was you. Up.” Anthony nudged him. “Hey, long time no see.”
Tony sat, groaning slightly. “Where’s the rest of it?”
A slightly smaller figure in a suit of armor—not the Iron Woman armor, but definitely not Tony Stark either—was following Anthony, carrying the rest of Tony’s armor.
“Got it right here.” The head turned towards Steve, and the mechanized voice sounded slightly inquisitive. “Is that Captain America?”
“Um...” Steve shifted nervously. “Yeah.”
“Tank.” It extended a blue gauntlet, and either didn’t notice or politely ignored the way the Anthony rolled his eyes at the moniker. “My universe’s Captain America died in Korea, so I’ve never seen the suit in person.”
“Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”
The head turned back towards the Anthony, and though no less mechanical, the voice sounded downright awed. “You weren’t kidding.”
“Thanks, your faith in me is earth-shattering. I’ll meet up with you in a sec? A heavily bandaged torso does not an easy armoring experience make.”
Tank laid the armor down on the bed as Tony scooted off the edge and found his feet. “I’ll be waiting by the door.”
Anthony patted the helmet before the figure turned and disappeared through the crowd.
“Who’s your friend?” Steve asked.
“What’s your friend?”
“Tony!”
“No, I’m serious—boy? Girl? Robot?”
“Be nice. He’s a good guy.” Anthony shook his head. “I wouldn’t have built him a suit of his own if he wasn’t. I wouldn’t have built him a suit of his own if I thought he was going to call himself ‘Tank’. ‘But I’m practically a tank now!’, he says, like a five year old at Christmas, only with a lot more firepower.”
“Do you... do you like him?” Tony asked, hoping the answer would be good enough to distract him from the pain in his side. It would be better once he had the armor on. It always was. The armor would hold everything together, the muscle wouldn’t have to pull and strain like it did now. He could relax once it was all locked into place and the metal would support him.
Anthony grinned. It was small and knowing and slightly superior... And much more annoying when you were on the receiving end. “What’s not to like? In his universe—great place to stay, by the way-- Captain America was a man named Bradley. Their Tony Stark was good enough to get himself killed in a desert or a jungle or something, I showed up and got treated like some kind of prodigal son.”
“What happened to Steve Rogers, then?” Steve asked, brow clearly furrowed under his cowl.
“Still got frozen, for different reasons. And of course, the serum never worked for him... doesn’t matter. He survived, which is more than most of the volunteers could say.”
“But what happened to him?” Steve insisted.
“He runs an art gallery now.” Anthony’s smile softened.
“And?” Tony cleared his throat.
Anthony shot him a wry look. “When he’s not gallivanting about in armor fighting super-crime.”
Steve groaned. “Of all the things he could have picked, he went with ‘Tank’? And he’s me?”
“Well, you have to understand, he’s about twenty, and he's never been Captain America. I suggested a couple things, but... I don’t know, maybe it was too much like using someone else’s name.”
“Suggested a couple things?” Tony eyed him. “Uh-huh.”
“I told him the absolute truth, straight off the bat. Before this mess, before the art gallery. About me being from another universe, about being in love with another version of him.” He explained, fastening the chestplate. “Feel okay there?”
“Good as new. And?”
“ I bought the gallery, but I don’t own it now. I have no stake in it. I wanted him to have a place in the world where I wasn’t... where he didn’t have to think I—If he worked for me, under me, then things would have been complicated.”
Steve was on Tony’s other side, helping him suit up, and he looked across to the Anthony. “Sounds like it’s kind of complicated anyway.”
“Kind of. We’re friends. I don’t know... I don’t know if that will ever change, but I like him. He’s the man I fell in love with, but he’s also... he’s different enough from my old Steve that it doesn’t feel too creepy. I was worried that even if I did find him again, it would be too weird, that I’d never be able to let go. And I haven’t, not completely, but I don’t have to worry about getting them confused in my mind. From here on out, I guess whatever happens, happens. In a year, maybe more. Not right away, not even for another Steve Rogers. But someday, maybe. And if not, then... not.”
“Are you sure we’re the same person?” Tony narrowed his eyes. “Because that sounds suspiciously like a healthy attitude, and I’m pretty sure I don’t do those.”
“Just having him as a friend helps.” Anthony shrugged. “Helmet on. We’ve got some teeth to knock in.”
Steve picked up his shield. “Can’t wait.”
---/-/---
Two days passed with no new injuries before Tony finally saw what Steve Rogers looked like without the serum.
The circumstances could have been better—he was providing cover so that this Steve could resuscitate Anthony.
“I’m an idiot like that in every universe, huh?” He called back over his shoulder, blasting at the things before they could reach the ground. Between his efforts and that of his own Steve, they were giving their counterparts a pretty good radius.
“He’s breathing,” the other Steve finally said, and his relief was clear. “But we have to get him inside. I don’t know if... I don’t know if he’ll be okay. I don’t know what he did.”
“Tony, make sure we have a clear path to the mansion. I’ll bring up the rear,” Steve said. “You can carry him?”
“Armor he built’s strong enough. I can carry him.” He nodded, his faceplate lowering and locking into place as he lifted the Anthony up.
Hank and two Thors were running the makeshift hospital, and none of them were surprised to see the group that came blundering in.
“Always those two, isn’t it?” Hank muttered. “I swear, a good quarter of the injuries we’ve seen in here must be from you throwing yourselves in harm’s way for each other. In every universe.”
“Verily,” one Thor sighed. “Until this day, I had not realized just how... strong your bond must be. How is he?”
“I don’t know.” The other Steve’s distorted voice sounded worried. As Tony and Hank worked to get the Anthony out of his armor, the other Steve took his helmet off. “I don’t know what happened. I just know he—I just know... I don’t understand!” He slammed a fist into the wall, denting it, much to his own surprise. “I’m just as well protected as he is, maybe more. Why would he do that?”
“Spent years asking myself variations on the theme,” Steve said wryly. “He just does.”
“I don’t want... I don’t want him to be hurt. Not ‘cause of me. Not at all. He confuses the heck out of me, but... I like him.”
Tony and Steve exchanged a glance.
“Sound familiar?” Tony had gathered up Anthony’s armor and now left him to the professionals.
“You still confuse the heck out of me.”
Tony got a good look at the other Steve—he tried not to think of him as ‘Little Steve’, but it was kind of hard. “You really are... just so young.”
“I wish people wouldn’t keep saying that, since I’m about ninety.”
“Doesn’t count,” Tony grinned. “Steve, you never told me you were so endearingly dorky looking.”
“I told you I was a skinny art student. I figured you’d infer the rest.”
“No, I inferred, you know, starving-artist, which is kind of cool.”
The other Steve scowled briefly at him.
“I was just as bad.” Tony appeased him, palms out. “At least just as bad! But with computers and engines. I was all bony elbows and grease stains and... man, I was awkward. I was so awkward... when I was fifteen? I was not the suave specimen you see before you now, I’ll tell you that.”
“You’re always okay after you do stuff like this, right?”
“So far.”
The other Steve nodded and bit his lip. It was too easy to imagine him with paint on his nose. Tony liked the image, lined it up with the memory of his own younger self. Paint smears and grease stains and stick-insect limbs... They would have looked good together even then, for any given value of good, had they been young at anywhere near the same time.
“Are you in love with him?” Steve asked gently.
His young counterpart shrugged. “No. Not yet. I think I will be. Maybe by the end of the day.” He let out a sad little laugh. “I was hoping to get a little more adjusted to things before I went and let that happen. He’s got an unfair advantage, I think, ‘cause he already knows just what to say to me to make me like him. I don’t think he’s trying to. I don’t think it’s his fault, but he knows me so well. And he’s so... he’s so good. I don’t just mean to me, even though he is, he’s a great friend. But to the world. I think if he hadn’t wound up in our universe, it woulda been a worse place.”
Tony felt pole-axed. He was not used to hearing himself described as ‘good’, especially not the way this young Steve Rogers said it. His own Steve tried every so often to convince him of it. Certainly plenty of people thought Iron Man was good because Iron Man was a hero. But it seemed like not so many people felt that strongly about how good Tony Stark was. The idea that the world—any world—was a better place because he was in it?
“He’ll make it,” Hank interrupted Tony’s thoughts—probably interrupted the Steves’ thoughts as well, since they’d gone similarly quiet. “But I won’t be sending him out there again. I want to think this will all be over by the time any of us would be comfortable letting him go.”
“I’ll wait for him to wake up.” The younger Steve Rogers started stripping off his armor, his movements slow and plodding. He stacked it carefully next to the wall and pulled a chair up to the bed. His chin dipped down to his chest, and within moments, he seemed to be sleeping just as deeply as the Tony Stark lying before him.
“We can go back out,” Steve said.
Hank nodded. “I don’t want to see you back here. Not ‘til you need to rest.”
“That’s a nice skill, falling asleep anywhere. I thought the Army taught you that. He seems to have it down pat.”
Steve shrugged. “Don’t know how much training he got. He could’ve gone through basic, or they could have turned him away. Anyway, learning to sleep wasn’t exactly a hard lesson...”
They headed back down to the fray, but when they reached the front door of the mansion, Steve stopped them, one hand on Tony’s arm, one finding his waist. Tony lifted his faceplate and felt his breath catch at the way Steve’s eyes caught his own.
“I don’t want to see us back there, either. We did that once already this battle. I think once per enemy is a reasonable limit for your... tendency. Please, Tony.”
“I’ll be careful if you will.”
Steve kissed him, hard. It didn’t last long, but it still left Tony feeling slightly dizzy.
“I want... I want us to beat this. I want us to beat this and go home, and... I want to hold you. I want to—to be with you. I want to be with you, Tony. And I can hardly stand waiting anymore. I thought I was—I thought the pace we had was what I needed, to go slow. But I—“
“It’s adrenaline, Steve, and, you know, probably the worry because of all my death-defying heroics. If it wasn’t, you would have changed your mind about the pace before this happened, not after.”
“When we get home, I still want us to... I’m not sure. To do something. To—I want to make love to you. As soon as it’s all over. I want that.”
“Yeah. Me, too. When it’s over. Better go make that happen, huh?”
“Yeah.” Another kiss, this one slower and sweeter, and then Steve tipped Tony’s faceplate back into place, smiling as it locked shut. “Take care of yourself out there.”
---/-/---
“Do you love him?”
“Steve?” Anthony struggled to sit up, realized he wasn’t struggling at all, and decided he wasn’t dealing with the slapdash hospital at all. In fact, he seemed to be in his old bedroom, with the red vase in the corner and the Sheppard Fairey print across from the bed, and... “My Steve? Is this one of those really good dreams, or one of the really bad ones?”
“Good, I hope.” Steve took his hand, and Anthony looked at the way their rings looked together. He’d regretted not getting Steve’s ring back; it felt too mercenary to take it off the moment he died, but after he’d been pulled away, he expected that Steve’s body was eventually eaten. Everything was. By now, it really was everything. His whole universe was gone.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I do. Then I feel guilty as hell. Don’t look at me like that, ‘hell’ is in the bible, that makes it perfectly acceptable strong language.”
“I wasn’t. I’m just looking. You don’t have to feel guilty.”
“I do. It’s way too soon. I feel guilty for every moment I’m not in complete agony. Sick, huh?”
“Yes.” Steve kissed his forehead and held him close. Dream or not, it felt as real as it ever had, the warmth, the sensation of being pressed up against a solid wall of muscle, the care. “Probably. I don’t want you to. I’d like you to be happy, at least more often than not. Besides, it’s nice to know...”
“Know what?”
“That you don’t just love me for my body.”
Anthony could hear the smirk in his voice at that. “Jerk. You knew that already. You always knew... didn’t you? Didn’t I say it enough? Was there anything I should have done different?”
“No. You were perfect. We were perfect.”
“I could love him. Someday. Maybe. I’m not really... It’s going to take time, I guess. I mean, there’s just no getting over you.”
“He is me, sort of. Not the same me, but me. When you do move on, and maybe it’s selfish of me to say this, but I’d like it to still sort of be me. At least I don’t have to be jealous of myself.”
“You’re not jealous. You’re—I can’t do this. I can’t keep waking up and—Steve, can this be a sex dream now?”
Steve laughed, one palm caressing Anthony’s face as he kissed him, once. “No. You realize you’re sleeping in public, handsome? You still think about me?”
“Every waking second.”
“That’s okay for now. Goodness knows I don’t want you forgetting all about me. It’s been two months, though, so if you want to knock it down to every other waking second, I’ll understand. And Tony... if someday, you start thinking about him instead... you don’t need to punish yourself for it. You’re human. You need to be loved and cared for.”
“We’re just friends, right now.”
“I know.” Another kiss. “But he likes you.”
“You don’t know that.” Anthony murmured, burrowing himself down into Steve’s arms. “You’re just my dream.”
“Of course I know. He’s me, isn’t he?”
“I wanna stay asleep.”
“Tony...” Steve sighed and pulled Anthony down to rest in his lap, “you can’t sleep forever.”
“I know. I’d like to.”
“You won’t always feel that way, I promise. Rest for now, handsome... and when you wake up, try not beating yourself up over things you can’t help.”
“I can’t have any of my hobbies.” Anthony groused, smiling as he snuggled against Steve’s thigh. At least in dreams, when he was there, he still felt solid and warm and alive. He’d been right; it was one of the good ones.
---TBC---
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And Tank!Steve is awesome.
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I'm glad you like Tank!Steve! He's sort of adorkable.
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“Always those two, isn’t it?” Hank muttered. “I swear, a good quarter of the injuries we’ve seen in here must be from you throwing yourselves in harm’s way for each other. In every universe.”
I giggled madly at that line. I absolutely love all the byplay between all the Tonys and Steves, and it's wonderful to see Anthony again. Poor Anthony. Although I see he isn't all that much more grown up than Tony: Steve, can this be a sex dream now?” Hee. Priceless!
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Yeah, the way I see it, Anthony had a few years of steady Steve-relationship to ground him, but he's still Tony Stark and totally not above leching out on dream!Steve...
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1) "What's your friend?" Hey, it's a valid question, right?
2) The part where Steve lowers Tony's faceplate for him. It's a very intimate gesture.
3) Imagining these lines ("Verily," one Thor sighed. “Until this day, I had not realized just how... strong your bond must be.") being said by the Thor from the Superhero Squad universe.
:D
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1) Totally valid *g*
2) I'm so glad it came across that way!
3) *gigglesnort* My brain, she just died a little. *further giggling*
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I'm sure that a few Steves took hits for their Tonys, but yes. If there's one thing you can count on Tony Stark to do, it's getting injured. And then possibly angsting dramatically over it, or trying to get pity/comfort sex out of Steve... or angsting dramatically over not getting pity/comfort sex from Steve...
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Love the relationships and interactions.
I hope you can add Girl!Tony/Girl!Steve & Tony/Girl!Steve.
Acceptable sandwiches for Steve of course. And more multiverse interaction and confusion between all.
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I don't think girl!Tony/girl!Steve made it in... although now that every universe is going to have the ability to multiverse-hop, I won't say I won't write it... I've sketched girl!Tony/girl!Steve a few times, so if I ever get around to being able to scan things, there might be art...
And I've been bitten by a plotbunny for a whole Tony/girl!Steve fic, which when I get around to that, will make up for there not being much of that spin on the pairing in here.
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