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If it didn't hurt so much, Tony would have laughed at the sheer amount of ridiculous
fuckery
his life had become.
From Afghanistan, to New York, to the Mandarin, and then
Ultron
, and now this?
Lagos, the Accords, Bucharest-
Siberia.
It was so
cold
...
That was the only thing Tony could focus on at the moment, the only thing he
forced
himself to focus on.
Something that, he found, was a really, really bad idea; with how it brought back memories of Afghanistan, where the caves had hoarded biting cold the same way the sands absorbed blistering heat. The fire pit had kept a modicum of warmth for the most part, but it had never been enough to permanently keep the chill at bay.
But this cold; this was
deeper
; sinking into his bones. and tearing at his skin as it went deeper and
deeper
, until his very
soul
felt like it’d been deep dipped in liquid Nitrogen. And all the while, one thought stood out in his mind-
He should have seen it coming.
The lies, the betrayal, the
pain
…
He should have seen it all. Should have
known
. And in thinking this, he could only let the memories come, drowning out the cold with bitter resignation and faint despair.
Hindsight truly was twenty-twenty, especially when it arrived with a shattered rib cage by way of a vibranium shield; with the added irony of it being held by a blue-eyed, blond American idol who you’d worshipped as a child and thought as a
friend
and fellow teammate for
years
, only to find out you’d been lied to, betrayed and
used
in the end.
Reality, as it turns out, really was a cold-hearted bitch.
A part of him-bruised and broken and still so
soft-
wondered if it had been his fault. Wondered, maybe if he hadn’t tried to keep a small distance between him and the rest of the team because of his issues, maybe the others would have actually
listened
to him- would have possibly taken his opinions
seriously
; instead of believing that anything he did was against them if it wasn’t what they thought of.
That part is what hurts the most, the sting of all the doubts and betrayals sharp and acidic.
But, after an hour or so, that part had slowly melted away and had then, thankfully(
so,
so
fucking thankfully),
been replaced by the part of him that
boiled
with rage after he had been
deserted
, withuot a means of
escape
and severely
injured
- right in the middle of a
HYDRA
base that had no guarantee of being abandoned.
He’d progressed from wondering
why
Ste-Rogers (
Not ‘Steve’. Never again. Not after everything he’d done.)
had done it, and had dipped into the burning rage of
Fuck You
that had managed to keep him warm for a good few moments with how vehemently it blazed at the fact that the super soldier hadn’t even given a
single fucking thought
to him after all was said and done. So focused on his
Bucky
, that he’d tossed away
everything
they’d stood for- had tossed
Tony
away like he was trash, after everything he’d done for the man out of time.
Though, unfortunately, not even his rage had lasted for long; slipping away into the long silence with weary acceptance in its place as snow continued to gradually pile in and the cold continued to build.
Briefly- just briefly, Tony thought of
letting go
; of closing his eyes, going to
sleep
, and just letting everything fade away.
Because he was
tired
. Tired of the pain, of people spitting in his face after giving them
everything
. He’d become part of the Avengers so that he could do
better
, so that he could
be
better. Because he'd
believed
in being a part of something bigger, something that could
help
people.
Yet, in the end, all he’d managed to end up with was another cut to his scarred heart and the bitter resignation of another hope going up in smoke. Pain and betrayal, back like old friends as they made yet another mark on his soul.
And even that had begun to numb as the cold continued to creep ever closer, numbing his soul just as easily as it numbed his body.
A hint of sarcastic optimism bubbled up at that fact; that he was too cold to feel the pain, too numb to really give a damn anymore.
Yeah, he’d lost people he’d
trusted
and who he’d thought of as
friends
, but hell, that was the usual at this point. When he took a step back from it and actually opened his damn eyes, he could finally see it for what it truly was. Lies and manipulation, constant gaslighting, backhanded insults meant to exasperate his numerous insecurities and treated like a cash cow that only needed to be useful to be included- he had never been
part
of the team. To them, he had been
expendable
.
Maybe not to Ol’ Nick, since the spy pirate hadn’t done nearly as much as he
could have
; hadn’t tried to throw every single failure Tony had ever made at him as a way to keep him pliable nor manipulate him further than to get him
on
the team. But he
had
been as such to the so-called
team
, specifically Romanoff and Rogers, who had never missed a chance to chip away at his ‘ego’.
He should have paid more attention to Bruce’s analysis from the beginning when the man had stated the cold, hard truth. The team had been an unstable chemical mixture-
not meant to last.
They were an abysmal combination; the man out of time and the futurist. Always arguing, unable to click and unable to compromise, especially when it was needed most. Even when Tony extended any olive branch he could afterwards, it just
continued
,
over
and
over
again; like clockwork. And Rogers never did the same- never sought forgiveness for his own part of it, instead foisting the blame onto something else and never taking
responsibility
for his actions. He seemed incapable of placing the blame anywhere near himself; all too eager to blame Tony for angering him, or a lack of sleep for why he’d said something that actually had a decent sting to it, or any number of other instances.
And as he finally allowed this conclusion to cement itself into his mind, Tony could only close his eyes in resignation.
The lack of foresight and preparation for his current situation had been the product of
hope
and
naive
belief. He’d been too caught up in the fantasy the Avengers Initiative had conjured, the tentative dream of something
better
. He had ignored the signs
screaming
at him in order to place his hope that he could finally-
finally
- have somewhere he belonged, into the very people he should
never
have trusted in the first place.
That he could have a
family
, full of misfits and survivors like himself.
But now he could see what he’d forced himself to ignore before.
The Avengers weren’t family, nor were they friends. Hell, he wasn’t even sure they hadn’t been using him from the very beginning.
And it had taken betrayal after betrayal after
fucking betrayal
to come to that final conclusion.
If he had taken a moment,
just a moment
, to look back and really
think
, he wouldn’t have dived head-first into this disaster. If he had just
listened
to his own doubts and the validity of them, he would have known; would have
seen.
Because it had been obvious that Steve Rogers had never liked or even respected him right from the very beginning, with his ridiculous arguments and barbed shots on the Helicarrier; going on about how he wasn't a hero when he never claimed to be. Always ranting and raving about how irresponsible he was, how he was too abrasive, too loud; only in it for himself. Too
Tony Fucking Stark
in that he didn't bow and let Rogers take the wheel and make every single decision for him; from how he acted in public, to what he made for the Avengers, to even what he
talked about
when around the others after Ultron and what he was
allowed
to do.
Even after he’d made it clear to the Golden
gerbil
that he
wasn’t a soldier
, Rogers had constantly treated him like one; trying to order him around and giving him looks of disappointment and disapproval when he ignored it, as if Tony had no right to act how he wanted
in his own fucking home!
Now, seeing it all laid out clearly to his refreshed eyes, he could see that his opinion about it hadn’t mattered to the super soldier. Nor any other opinion he’d had.
They never had.
No, Rogers had
tolerated
him this entire time, for Howard;
Howard
, who had searched the ice tirelessly, looking for him and leaving his family behind to deal with his drunken mood swings and abuse when he returned after failing time and time again. For Howard
,
who only searched for him because of the
metal frisbee and the serum.
(
He could forgive Howard for Maria, now that he knew the truth; could see that it wasn’t his fault. It didn’t excuse his actions, nor did it excuse the fact that he’d never even
tried
to be a father, but not even Howard had deserved to die that way. He’d proven he still had some level of concern for Maria, trying to get her help while he himself was injured, so he’d at least had a small measure of decency left in him before the end. He was a shit father and a piss poor husband until near the very end, but he hadn't deserved the way it ended.)
Nothing else.
Steve Rogers had decided from the start that Tony wasn’t worth his time or personal thought; he was merely a poor substitute for
Howard.
And he had no care for the
substitute’s
advice on anything; doing what
he
thought was best and damn anyone and the consequences that thought otherwise.
This latest fiasco more than
proved it.
When he thought back on Rogers’ words from years before on the Helicarrier, he came to the conclusion that Rogers had likely formed his opinion when he’d read whatever files he’d been given based on Tony’s past exploits, focusing on any depravity he saw instead of what Tony had accomplished; Focusing on the media’s perception of him and not the work he’d put in to take his company from being a multimillion national name to a multibillion international business, or even everything he’d done after Afghanistan.
Though, thinking on it now, he had to wonder if HYDRA had mixed up a few things- if they had handed Rogers files that highlighted the depravity instead of the accomplishments, the sex tapes and the parties over the conferences and the technological advances. They’d most likely made special notes on every reckless decision and stunt he’d ever pulled too, painting him as an overgrown
child
with no care to anyone but himself without giving context on what had
caused
those moments; context that would have shown the
human
who had had to work and work and
work
in order to rise from the ashes every time someone tried to beat him down into the dust, and who had made
mistakes
along the way.
Tony was certain Ol’ Nick hadn’t planned that; for one thing, he had wanted them to work as a
team
.
But Rogers had taken that information as fact and at face value, not even trying to look deeper before he was trying to choke Tony with his self-righteous patriotism and arrogant moral code, like he had never made
one
mistake when he constantly
lied
on his enrollment form and constantly disobeyed orders; putting
multiple
lives in
danger
with his reckless decisions.
Maybe that was the mistake, the thing that people overlooked when it came to the legend; no one had ever held Captain America
responsible
for his actions, and now he thought
he
was the only one in the right.
And Tony had dealt with the arrogance and the hypocrisy; had shoved away his desire to retaliate in a more volatile way instead of snapped words and playing nice for the team, hoping they’d accept him because he was
trying
to be good. He had done everything he could think of to become a part of something
bigger
, to create a
family
out of the misfits he’d been placed with.
He had tried to make up for his mistakes, to ‘wipe the red from his ledger', to quote Romanoff.
But it was never enough. It had
never
been
enough
for them.
No matter what, he always made a mistake; he was
always
in the wrong.
He did as he was asked to find the Tesseract, but refused to be another blind soldier who followed orders to a corporation that thrived in the shadows? Rogers took a shot at him thinking he knew everything there was to know about Tony Fucking Stark, while Romanoff went on and on about his ego being the weak link in the chain connecting the team, and Loki had escaped while injuring several, killing Agent, (but not really because of course Fury would keep his foray back to life a secret from the rest of them. Too bad Tony Stark didn't take not knowing important things very well. Fury still didn’t have decent firewalls, even with Tony generously hacking him every week to give his tech department some playtime. He still didn’t even after he'd pulled SHIELD back together and renamed it SWORD with Agent as Director and vetted agents that had been burned in the info dump but hadn't been killed working for it. He’d been waiting for Fury to show up in all his shadowy dramatics before the mess with the Accords had started; he wouldn’t admit to being disappointed when he didn’t) and causing several more disasters that had barely been worked through in time.
And then, he created the Avengers Tower and designed entire floors for them after the invasion was over and he’d been given a nice big dosage of PTSD from a hole in the sky; and how did that work out? Rogers, Romanoff, and Barton moved between there and S.H.I.E.L.D- never staying in just one place, Bruce stayed every once in a while, and Thor fucked off to Asgard. He ended up being left mostly
alone
in a tower that he had designed in the hopes of gaining a
family
; His Sugar Bear popping in when he could and Happy,Pepper,
Jarvis
, and his bots being his only other company.
And after
that
, he’d had to deal with shit
on his own
, with only Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy around to help with the Mandarin. Sure, he’d
tried
to call the team for help from Harley’s garage, but
no one
had
picked up
. So he’d had to deal with it
without
them, Rhodey and Pepper his only real back-up with Happy in the hospital,
unconscious
. He didn’t count Harley, because Harley was a
kid
, and shouldn’t have even
been in
that situation. Kids aren’t supposed to be the ones popping a
flash bomb
in the face of a
living
bomb.
Then, the clusterfuck that was SHIELDRA reared its ugly head while he’d been recovering from getting the Arc Reactor
removed
.
The
worst
part about it was that no one had even
tried
to call him for help. He could have had those fucking Helicarriers deactivated in
seconds!
But no! They had left him out of it, and let
Rogers
and
Romanova
decide what was best in that situation
And that? That had led to Tony
scrambling,
trying to save as many people as he could as those two decided to dump
everything
concerning SHIELD and HYDRA on the
world wide web
, leading to hundreds of people getting
killed
before he could get to them; because he had been
twelve
fucking
hours
late
to the party, since no one had told him
what the fuck
was going on while he’d been recovering.
He and Jarvis had spent countless hours trying to save everyone they could as quickly as possible, trying to get the surviving agents out of the line of fire and safe; even managing to save over a third of them. He’d also managed to grab Laura and her kids and get them to a new safe house as well. And all Rogers and Romanova got for all of that was a measly slap on the wrist and public exposure while SI gained an increase in staff worldwide in the new Security Division he’d opened up a week beforehand. Filled to the brim with traumatized Ex-SHIELD agents with a mile-long grudge against the Black Widow and Captain America.
And Romanova! Romanova had
arrogantly
stated that they
needed
her, that she
couldn’t
go to jail because she was too
important!
She took shots at
his
fucking ego
all
the fucking
time
, but woe be it for
anyone
to point out
hers!
Oh, but how about that time when he'd tried to make sure what he’d seen through Wanda’s manipulations wouldn’t come to pass, with Bruce's help and a whole
new
helping of PTSD and worsening panic attacks? Ultron had awakened, had killed Jarvis- but not really because his baby boy had been
brilliant
, even when he was so
broken
and scattered and
barely even himself-
That in turn marked the birth of Vision with the use of those beautiful but
broken
codes, mass destruction that ended up with so many people in Sokovia
killed
and many more injured, and had driven a wedge in the tentative trust the others had begun to form in him while driving Bruce away and into obscurity to where even he couldn't find him.
Though, maybe he was being a bit presumptuous. Maybe they’d been manipulating him from the beginning, since they hadn’t ever really
trusted
him. Maybe they’d all been using him from the start, and he’d just never taken the time to really
look
..
All, except Bruce…
Of all the Avengers, Tony had thought he and Bruce had actually been
friends
.
And when he'd tried to Keep Wanda safe from the people for what happened in Lagos, what happened? He had been accused of locking her in her room out of spite by Rogers after trying to convince him to sign the Accords (
while the public was just
waiting
for a chance to get at her for the clusterfuck that had been Lagos
), and had returned home to find Vision (
His beautiful baby boy, who was so young
,
who was still
learning
) stuck
200 fucking feet
through the floor because Rogers had gotten Clint Barton to come and get her, with Barton not even knowing
what the fuck
was
going on,
while giving a
riveting
little speech that caused Wanda to turn on Vision, who had tried to talk
sense
into her the entire time.
And let’s not forget when he had tried to compromise with the UN and the team, signing the Accords in order to have a chance at amending them and working with Thaddeus Ross in order to get enough dirt on him to get him out! What happened? Rogers refused to listen to the wishes of over 117 countries, citing that the UN was a government (Hint; it wasn’t even fucking close) with an agenda, and then causing mass destruction in Romania, and Berlin, Germany along with multiple casualties and injuries to civilians and police force alike. Then, like the topping on the proverbial fucking cake, he went on to recruit a retired SHIELD agent, an unstable enhanced woman, an unknown with Pym technology, an Air Force winged-veteran that went on to help veterans with PTSD after his discharge, and his 40’s bestie, James Buchanan Barnes in order to duke it out against Tony’s own team over their disagreement with the Accords and their lack of trust; trust in him specifically.
And that ended with Rhodey paralyzed (
his Platypus, confined to a hospital bed and later a
fucking chair
, all because an
idiot
with barely a brain cell and a woman who despised him distracting his baby boy
), Underoos being put in danger multiple times by his inability to follow Tony’s guidelines and the other side’s refusal to pull their punches- somehow
miraculously
managing to stay out of the very worst of it, the team divided with the spider spy turning on him once again and aiding Rogers and Barnes’ escape while electrocuting his Royal Kittyness, and the rest of Rogers’ team in custody.
And after, when he’d gone to the Raft for information, he’d left heading for Rogers and Barnes to
help
; had gone as a
friend
. He’d cut off Friday to basic controls and had put his feelings aside to do what needed to be done.
And what had that gotten him?
Lies
and
betrayal
. Forced to watch the murder of his parents
with the killer standing
right t
here
! And Steve Rogers had known for
two.
Goddamned.
Years!
Howard, Howard’s death he could forgive. Howard had never really been a father; always spouting vitriol at him and going on and on about Captain America and never paying Tony, his son, any attention whether he was sober or drunk off his ass other than to scream at and abuse him; most of the time he was too angry at him to be anything other than violent. Tony had never been enough, never. Howard had made that clear when he’d smashed his first circuit board while shouting at his cowering four year old child in rage, his face twisted into the monster of Tony’s childhood. Even if he hadn’t been responsible for the crash, that didn’t change the fact that he had never been a father.
But
mom
. Maria, who’d
tried,
even when it wasn’t
enough,
to be a mother to him. Who whispered to him in Italian when things got too bad and Jarvis had patched him up bit by bit with bandages and the love he craved when the father who was supposed to, didn’t care for him. Mom, who had taught him to cook
Bucatini
and bake when she wasn’t doped up on antidepressants and party drugs, and who had called him
bambino
with as much love and care as she was capable of when she wasn’t fully
there
. Maria had
tried
to be a mother, even when Howard’s iron grip forced her to parties and galas to spread his influence and build up his image. If her death had been
quick
, he wouldn’t have been as angry. But no, HYDRA’s weapon had
strangled
her, taking her life slowly while she struggled to breathe.
That
, combined with Rogers trying to
lie
to him about
knowing
, is what caused him to throw that first punch.
He could understand it now, numb and semi-calm while his body was slowly failing him, that Barnes had been the gun, and HYDRA had been the hand to pull the trigger. It didn’t fully excuse the POW, not with everything he did that
wasn’t
HYDRA, but Tony was rational sometimes and reasonable most others. He knew where and where not to put blame.
James Buchanan Barnes didn’t even really know
who
he was; even Tony could see that. And he hadn’t been the source of most of his anger.
No, most of his anger had been pointed at
Steven Grant Rogers, Captain Fucking America
; the one who had
lied
to him, who had
constantly
stated that
poor old Bucky
didn’t
do it
, all the while using
his
money and connections to search for his parents’
murderer
.
If he had been given
time
- time to process everything, to come to terms with it- things wouldn’t have ended up like this.
They could have
talked
, instead of Rogers trying to
lie
to him
again
and escalating the situation by hitting him back instead of
talking
him down. But, obviously, Tony had never registered on Rogers’ radar save for his money and his influence, so he wasn’t
worth
the effort to be emotionally comforted by the good Ol’ Captain.
Fuck
, he’d been an idiot. Rhodey, Pepper, Happy; he’d neglected them for a team of ‘superheroes’ who had never had his back to begin with. He could finally smash those Captain-America-tinted glasses to hell and back now that he could
recognize
his idiocy. It was less painful than he’d thought it would be, getting rid of whatever feelings he had left for a team that had despised him, probably from the beginning. Instead, he was left with a harsh and brutal reality, dying in a HYDRA bunker with no hope of calling anyone for help or getting himself out. If he moved, his chest was likely to crumble on him, and he couldn’t feel enough of his body to guess what else he’d need to watch out for.
It seemed he had gambled on a bad bet with Death this time, or Death had gotten tired of losing and had used weighted dice.
A hacking cough cut off his thoughts, Tony unable to stop a groan as pain flared from the movement. He didn't move as copper flooded his mouth and flowed down his chin, too tired to want to look at the mess his chest most likely was.
He was
so tired
...
All of this time, he had gifted his time, his money, resources, his tech, hell, his fucking
soul
to the Avengers, hoping they'd at least
like
him, that the mistrust and dislike would change and they would become something
more
.
And, at one point, he knew he'd grown to love Rogers, like he’d thought he loved Pepper. But that had started to fade once Ultron had happened, the distance and disdain directed at him growing until he took a complete step back, disappearing from the team but still supporting them while they replaced him with the witch.
What a damn fool he’d turned out to be.
He'd become Icarus from the tale Jarvis used to tell him, flying too close to the sun and melting his own wings. And now he paid the price. A part of him wished it had never happened; that he had never even
met
any of them. But, to be honest, that part was the small child still clambering for approval from Howard and shrinking away at any sign of anger and disappointment.
The rest of him, though- the rest of him was
angry
;. Angry, and sad, and resigned.
He should have seen it coming. He’d already gotten lucky with Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy;
so lucky
that they hadn’t just cut their losses and left. He had been greedy, wanting more when he’d been given the hope that maybe he
could
have more. But his lesson had been learnt well; extremely so.
Now, all he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and finally-
finally-
stop the pain. It was exhausting, acting like nothing hurt, like he wasn't screaming in pain inside every time he was hurt. Like every barbed word sent his way didn’t tear at a piece of him
every time
.
The Arc Reactor had been bad enough, reduced lung capacity and all. But now, now the pain of heartbreak had been added to his list of injuries, as well as his heart and mind finally deciding to coexist for just a few moments to let go of the toxins he’d accumulated. He was finally able to let them
go.
Natasha was the easiest to let go of. She had never really earned his trust no matter how hard she tried to slither in, always watching him and trying to pry his secrets away, or fishing for the weakest parts of his armor to manipulate. She had come into his life as Natalie Rushman, spying on him for SHIELD and encouraging his recklessness when she knew he had been dying, never once thinking him as anything but a target for her mission. And then, the assessment she had given had been like a slap to the face and had preyed on even more of his insecurities, making him want to prove them wrong out of a twisted need to feel like he belonged.
That had been his biggest mistake; caring about what she had thought of him, what all of them had thought of him.
At one point though, he’d actually thought they were becoming friends. She’d joined him on the couch on the common floor several nights when neither could sleep, and they’d shared moments of quiet camaraderie and slight jokes here and there. But now, after everything was said and done, she had stabbed him in the back again, aiding Rogers and taking a shot at his ’ego’ one more time before going off grid. Friday could track her easily, of course, but why bother?
She had apparently never really cared about him. So it was high time he stopped caring about her.
Clint was slightly more difficult. Once, he'd thought they had been friends. They'd had inside jokes, played video games, hell he'd designed any arrow that Clint had wanted, and even others that he didn't even think about. Clint had been immature and fun, always playing pranks and joining in harmless fun and stupid soap operas, and even joined Tony in the lab to hang around and watch him work. But Ultron had changed things. Suddenly, Clint had gone from playful banter to cutting remarks; from baking with him at midnight to glaring at him whenever he’d entered the same room. He’d done everything short of moving out to avoid Tony, and had hurled hurtful and sharp barbs his way whenever he couldn’t. The barb on the Raft involving Rhodey had been the last straw for Tony to tolerate any more.
And Bruce…
To be honest, he didn’t think he could let go of Bruce so easily, if at all. Yes, the man had abandoned him after Ultron, but Tony could see, after looking past his hurt and pain, that it had most likely been necessary. Maximoff had messed with Hulk’s head, and Bruce had to face the repercussions of that. And then, for Romanoff to force the transformation after that, it had probably been too much for Bruce to bear, and he had run. Hulk had been fragile after everything too, so it made more sense for them to run and hide to get themselves back together. Tony understood perfectly, he did, though it didn’t ease his hurt to have his Science Bro gone as Rogers allowed Maximoff on the team and drove him away. Maybe if Bruce had been able to stay, they could have stopped that; could have forced Rogers to
listen
instead of ignoring any negative thing said about the witch.
So, in the end, Bruce was the only one he couldn’t let go of; not for doing what he needed to, to keep himself from going off the deep end. He just hoped the good doctor would show back up again, since he missed both of them.
Thor was almost as easy as Natasha, since he hadn’t spent very much time with ‘Asgard’s Mightiest Warrior’ outside of the occasional team bonding before Ultron. The choking incident added to the feeling of ease in letting go of any emotional attachments he’d made to the man, since Thor could have easily killed him and hadn’t stopped to think about that fact during his anger. Sometimes, he could
still
feel those fingers around his throat...
He was too quick to be violent when angered, too quick to dismiss things he didn’t understand. He hadn’t picked up on the same signs Tony had during the invasion, the miniscule signals that Loki had given and the minute changes in his expression, even though he’d claimed to have known Loki better than anyone.
At first, Tony had thought he’d been seeing things wrong, since Thor had so easily dismissed them. But then, he’d taken a closer look at the videos and snapshots taken of the trickster somewhere between then and Ultron, and his suspicions were proven correct; something hadn’t been right. He’d seen it in the tenseness of Loki’s shoulders, how his eyes would flicker from blue to green and back in a flash. Even when they’d been bantering, Loki had given clues; very slight clues, but clues nonetheless. His relief when Tony mentioned that the Avengers would come for him, and the slight panic in his eyes when he’d lifted the scepter all pointed to something more going on behind the scenes. The Loki Thor had spoken about whenever he’d recounted old stories was a far cry from the one they’d met.
Loki was the God of Chaos and Mischief. And Chaos, unlike what most thought, was not just simple destruction. Chaos was change, Entropy; breaking one thing and creating something new from the ashes. What Loki had done during the invasion wasn’t Entropy; it was mindless destruction and attempts at subjugation.
But when he’d tried to tell Thor, to show him the evidence, Thor had waved him off and gone to visit Jane Foster, all the while ignoring possible proof that could help his crazy baby brother. For a guy who wouldn’t shut up about knowing Loki best and loving him more than anyone else, Thor sure hadn’t seemed too eager to hear any possible explanation for Loki’s actions.
Thankfully, he hadn’t seen Thor since Ultron. He only hoped that continued, since he didn’t fancy fighting another would-be ‘friend’ who thought he was only capable of evil acts of depravity.
Compared to Bruce, Steve..Steve was
easy
, despite Tony having developed feelings for him beforehand. Yes, it hurt to let go of him, to let go of the last bit of sentiment attached to him, but Tony had to be thorough; that, and he’d finally had enough.
Rogers had been toxic from the very beginning. The argument on the Helicarrier was a prime example of that, where Rogers had judged him, without even
knowing
him. And then, afterwards, whenever Tony said something that went against what he wanted, Rogers either tried to talk down to him or ignored him.
That was definitely noticed after Ultron, when Tony had voiced his doubts on Wanda, and Rogers had shot him down time and time again, saying how she had turned over a new leaf and that she was sorry; when Wanda had never actually
apologized
for anything she’d done. She’d joined them only because she’d seen that Ultron was going to kill
everyone
, including her and her brother. It hadn’t been over some new-found moral code, but simple self-preservation and manipulation.
Rogers had
lied
, manipulated, and treated him like dirt from the very get-go; and now Tony had finally had enough.
Being left to die in a Siberian bunker was the final straw.
In the beginning, the world had coined him as a hero. He had joined the Avengers to prove he could do something
right
, he could be
better
. He could become someone worth loving.
But the Avengers were revealed to be just a joke. Not the
idea
, no. The idea was good, if in need of a bit of tweaking. But, the team had been an unstable chemical mixture, like Bruce had said. And it had blown up
spectacularly.
And Tony was left to pick up the pieces.
If he could even pick
himself
up to do so.
Facing the facts, he didn’t think he’d be so lucky this time. His suit was disabled, he couldn’t move unless he wanted to risk worsening his injuries, he wasn’t able to alert anyone and no one knew his location since Friday was only on basic functions because of his stupid
trust
. Rhodey was in the hospital, Pepper had wanted space that Tony easily gave her if only just to have them return to what they were before their disastrous attempt at dating, he’d mostly avoided Vision since the pain of hearing his beautiful baby boy in someone who
wasn’t him
was too much to bear before he'd come to realize that Vision was also one of his, Happy was guarding Pepper, and he’d be damned if he put Underoos in any more danger with the possibility that the HYDRA base hadn’t actually been abandoned.
He was alone, with no one else he could call (if he could wire something to do so with) to help him.
All he could do now was lay still and hope for a miracle, the wind whispering in his ear from the doorway.
A few moments later, it’s that last part that catches his attention, making his eyes pop back open as his ears strained to better listen.
The wind.
“The wind is like an extra limb to me; if ever you have need for me, merely whisper my name to the wind and I will do my best to come to your side.”
A voice murmured through his mind, low and smooth like the hum of a soothing tune, easily overtaking the darker thoughts as it swayed him into a forgotten comfort.
The realization flashes through him like lightning.
There
was
still one person-
one
- who he could try to call. Someone who had been with him years ago, as a child dealing with Howard’s disdain and Maria’s growing drug addiction. Who had comforted him when neither Jarvis nor Maria could, and who had encouraged his passions just as they had and in a way Howard never would. Who’s voice had sung to him on the worst days, and cheered with him on the better ones.
And it’s this thought that makes him remember what he'd forgotten in the wake of everything going wrong: makes him remember chaotic violet hair, wild and long, and a silver gaze tinted with lavender that always looked at him with warmth and affection, mischief hidden in their depths along with a deep sorrow and shadows of pain that had grown far worse when he’d last seen them. It made him remember the one person who had only left him because war threatened his home, and he had a responsibility to fight against it.
It was as a child, when he had still been shaken and terrified after Howard’s latest rage, that a male with strange features had burst out of nowhere in a flurry of fire and wind, wild and cursing up a storm as he tumbled close to where Tony had hidden in the thickest area of the gardens.
It had terrified Tony at first, because Howard was usually cursing towards him whenever he was angry enough in a way that always instantly put Tony on edge and anticipating violence instead of merely ignoring him.
But the male had quickly seen that fear and had instantly quieted before gently trying to calm him down;
apologizing
for scaring him, asking his name after giving his own, and even taking care of the wounds Howard’s fists had left.
In just a few moments, a complete stranger had shown Tony more love and care than his own father had ever done, placating his fear and calming him down while wiping away his tears with a gentleness that rivaled his Jarvis.
He’d panicked when the man had left abruptly after Tony had said something that caused a pained look to flash across his face. No matter what he did, the male hadn’t paused for even a second before he was gone, leaving Tony a nervous wreck that despaired over the fact that he’d already driven away one of the few people to be kind to him and who had shown actual care when he was hurt.
He’d spent hours in his hiding place, since Jarvis had been forced to take Howard to a business meeting and was required to wait for him to finish, crying over the man’s departure and wondering what he’d done wrong; what he’d said that had driven the man away so that he would know what not to say.
But, then, he had returned. Tony had actually cried against him when he’d seen this, so
relieved
that he hadn’t actually driven him away. He’d almost broken completely when the man hadn’t pushed him away, instead
apologizing
for his abrupt departure and asking forgiveness.
And then, once Tony had calmed down, he had tried to comfort and relax him further by asking if he wanted to see a trick and showing him
amazing
feats with fire made from nowhere, manipulating it with ease and calming Tony further by never appearing angry or even mildly put out at every question Tony had shot at him once he’d forgotten his fear and anxiety in favor of wonder, even answering them all to the best of his ability. And he’d quickly caught on to the fact that Tony wasn’t like other children, even changing his way of speaking and treating Tony like an equal instead of a scared child and giving a more in-depth explanation of how his power worked when Tony hadn't looked satisfied with the first explanation. It had been one of the best days Tony had ever had, aside from the time Howard had gone on a week long trip and Maria, Ana, and Jarvis had spent that whole time making sure he’d had the time of his life.
After that, his new friend had had to leave for a while, but had told him he would come whenever Tony needed him if he just called to him through the wind.
And he had held true to his word, coming whenever Tony called him, usually after another bout of Howard’s rage that neither Maria nor Jarvis could calm him from. Soon, his friend had started bringing him souvenirs to help him; like a strangely shaped stone that glowed and warmed whenever he felt scared or anxious. He still had it, hidden in his workshop. It had helped him on numerous occasions, especially where he had to put on a mask when in public next to Howard. Sadly he hadn’t taken it with him to Afghanistan; it had been a sorely needed comfort that he had nearly clung to when he came back, holding it when he could and even keeping it on his person in a safe place when he had to be away.
The man had paid attention to him, had praised him whenever he showed him his inventions, and had even tried to teach him about the world he’d come from when Tony had questioned about what he was. He’d become Tony’s
friend.
And he’d
adored
him almost as much as Jarvis, simply because he had done what he could to help Tony, his gifts usually a form of comfort for when he couldn’t be there to give it instead. And whenever Tony had trouble understanding something, he had done his best to explain in a way that would help him understand better and had never looked down on him for not understanding something right off the bat like Howard had, the rare times he'd taught Tony anything. And after thinking it through, Tony had kept his existence a complete secret, guarded even more closely than the secrets of his Arc Reactor and the Iron Man suits, since all the way back in his youth to all but Jarvis, who had been aware of him, if only because of the occasional glimpses he would get of the male, and Maria, who had never told a soul even doped out of her mind. No one else knew about even a hint of his existence; not Howard, not Obadiah, not even Rhodey or Pepper. Because the man had been his, and he hadn’t wanted to put him in danger on the off chance someone would try to hurt him. Looking back on it now, that had been the smartest decision he’d ever made. People like Ross could
never
be allowed to get near, let alone
touch
, one of his dearest friends.
By the time he went to MIT, his friend had spent seven years around Tony, popping in and out frequently because he had responsibilities to his own home and he couldn't spend all of his time with Tony despite wanting to. Tony understood, even if he wasn’t happy about it. But his friend had always brought him gifts if he was away too long, marveling at Tony’s next invention and helping however he could if Tony had problems with something.
But a month before he’d left for MIT, his friend had popped in looking distraught and disheveled, telling him he wouldn’t be able to continue popping in as he was, because war had come for his home and he was needed on the frontlines. That it was his fault the battle had hit a head and that he needed to take responsibility before it hurt the innocent people around him. Coming to visit would be impossible for a while until he could calm things down to a level that he wouldn’t be needed for.
While terrified for his friend and not wanting to see him leave for who knew how long, Tony had understood, but had made him promise to come back alive and to come back if he needed a safe place; he would not lose his friend, even if he had to build a way to get to him in the end. With that, his friend had given him a tired smile and had stayed for a few minutes to catch up before he had to leave, crushing Tony in an almost desperate hug before disappearing back to his home.
And then, Tony had left for college and had gone through several new experiences; Tiberius Stone, Sunset Bain, teachers and students alike insulted by his younger age mixed with his intelligence, and somehow gaining a real friend.
Rhodey had been a balm to the open wound in his heart from his friend’s forced departure. And it had only grown to be more so when Rhodey turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to him besides Jarvis and his friend.
But then Howard and Maria Stark died in a car crash (
but oh, now he knew the truth and
oh
how it
hurt
), and Tony shut down, locking himself away and calling his friend in desperation; completely forgetting about what he’d told Tony before he left as Tony drowned himself in alcohol.
By the time Rhodey had managed to call Jarvis and get the door open, Tony had been passed out while believing his friend had
abandoned
him.
And he’d spent
days
feeling angry and hurt about that betrayal, drunk off his ass and spouting sharp barbs about his friend whenever Jarvis mentioned him until the poor man had stopped attempting to reason with him and just attempted to keep him from killing himself.
But, it was two weeks afterwards that the memory crashed into Tony’s head in a rare moment of sobriety, stunning him and causing him to break down once he realized what he’d done. Yes, he had been
hurting
, but his friend had never,
never
betrayed him, nor given him a reason to doubt or mistrust him. And he’d spent
days
cursing him and refusing to say his name or even speak about him, and all the while his friend could have been dying or already dead trying to defend his
home.
He’d called Jarvis moments later to apologize, the man coming directly to him after the call to stay with him along with Rhodey as he sobbed in renewed grief and guilt.
After that, he’d done all he could to toughen his spine and keep his emotions in check, building up a repertoire of masks upon masks that only Jarvis could fully see through before dying of illness just before Tony graduated MIT at 17. Then he was left with just Rhodey and Obadiah as a support system, and one turned out to be a backstabbing bastard in the end.
Afghanistan had nearly broken him, a month comprised of torture when he constantly refused to build the Jericho with a battery strapped to his chest, the only thing keeping him alive even as it constantly shocked him when water dropped onto it during sessions. He’d been forced to call for his friend again when it became too much, hoping but expecting nothing would come of it.
In the end, his expectation had been proven correct and it had been Yinsen who had forced his determination and his brain back to working in order to get them out after being confronted with the sight of
his weapons
in the hands of terrorists. And he had risen from the ashes like a phoenix, taking out the bastards who had thought he’d be stupid enough to actually make them weapons. But Yinsen had never intended to follow him out of that cave, and Tony had left Afghanistan with the man’s soul on his back and the building fear of the thought that his friend was dead. Being found by Rhodey soon after was the only thing that had left him calm enough to face Obadiah’s betrayal later that ended with his reveal to the world.
During the palladium poisoning, he’d tried again after Pepper and Rhodey had begun to withdraw from him due to his increasingly erratic behaviour and the loss of hope from his inability to find a replacement for the metal poisoning him. That had soon led to his recklessness increasing when it also failed, leading to the birthday incident that had been encouraged by Romanoff and ended with Rhodey flying off with what would later become War Machine. And then, he’d been given a silver lining with a dosage of a threat and confinement in his own home. So, he’d synthesized a new element and had once again risen from his own ashes to crash the Expo and save the people caught in the crossfire of Vanko’s grudge against him, the fear he’d held in the depths of his heart and mind growing each time his call laid unanswered by a friend who he didn’t even know was alive or not.
But, for a while, his life seemed to be looking up after that, even with that slap-to-the-face assessment. He had cheated death again, Pepper had accepted a dating proposal, and Rhodey was now able to fight with him and in solo missions in a suit of armor that would keep him safe. Pepper was the new CEO of Stark Industries while Tony headed the R & D and continued doing what he loved best; designing and creating technological advancements for a brilliant future
But then Loki had brought the invasion.
Later, he would actually review what he’d seen and put together the signs of a bigger picture behind Loki’s actions, but he’d been too preoccupied during everything to really pay attention to the discrepancies. But he’d only attempted to call twice during that entire fiasco; once when he’d almost shouted his friend’s name instead of Jarvis during Loki’s little defenestration, and again when he’d actually tried to call for him as Jarvis had been dialing Pepper- praying
one
of them would answer before he died by taking the nuke to space.
Of course, even space couldn’t force Tony to stop using weighted dice in his game against Death, dropping through the portal right before it closed and getting revived by Hulk’s roar after Jolly Green had caught him. And then he was left to deal with the fact that his friend was very likely dead, spending days afterwards mostly locked in his lab to deal with that and his new bout of PTSD with a heavy dose of drinking and Jarvis worrying in the background before his baby boy had called in the heavy guns; Rhodey had forced him to get up and eat and sleep, staying as long as he could and calling whenever he could, even recruiting Pepper to keep him from a relapse. Between them, he had slowly pushed away the crushing despair and fear and had thrown himself into the Avengers and a way to defend the world from another invasion. One he knew was coming, from what he’d seen through the portal before passing out. As it turns out, that was the worst mistake he could have ever made.
He hadn’t tried to call before or during Extremis, but it had hit him as a last resort as he struggled to stabilize Pepper, his frustration and fear hitting the point where he had thrown his coffee mug and had cried out for his friend in desperation.
And when it had actually
worked
, when his friend had stumbled from thin air to crash into a table to his right- injured but
alive
, Tony had been unable to do anything but pull him into a desperate hug, nearly sobbing with relief that his fear had been
wrong
; that his friend was still surviving, still cheating death
just like him
, still
fighting,
just like he was. His friend had clung to him just as tightly, though he was careful to keep his greater strength in control as he sagged in Tony’s arms. Speaking softly in his ear to soothe him even as his friend had to lean against him to keep from collapsing from his wounds. And after they had calmed down, his friend had instantly gotten to work, asking what he needed and then quickly delving in to understand just what he was trying to help with. By the time they’d figured out a solution, Tony had weaseled out a few details bit by bit of what was going on in his friend’s world. And then Jarvis had offered a little quip that his friend had bantered back, and then it had devolved into ten whole minutes of amusement watching them banter back and forth.
As it turned out, the war had become a massacre, his friend doing everything he could to keep innocent people from dying while being forced to kill his enemies when they wouldn’t
stop
as the war spread, infecting the world as his friend continued to fight. Bit by bit, disaster was taking over, making the war that much more dangerous for him and increasing Tony’s worry; but he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince his friend to stay, the male holding an immense amount of responsibility towards what had begun the war in the first place. He had to see the end of it, even if it meant being put in danger in the process.
And, sure enough, after he’d given the chemical solution a mere drop of his blood to balance the fire in Extremis, he’d crushed Tony in one last hug, looking a hell of a lot better than when he’d arrived, and then had left to continue his fight, promising he would return, no matter what; especially to explain just how his blood was able to affect the formula like that instead of making it combust. That promise was the only thing that kept Tony from even attempting to change his mind, no matter how much it gnawed at him to at least try.
And then, he’d had to watch as his own fears came back to bite him in the ass.
Ultron happened, and his baby boy had been torn apart, pulling himself together just enough to keep the homicidal robot from getting the nuclear codes.
And during it all, through the vision and Jarvis’ reinvention into Vision and the final battle, Tony spoke his friend’s name only once, just once, before going to confront Ultron. He didn’t expect to be answered, but he knew his friend would hear him, and that was enough. And after, once Ultron had been defeated and Rogers had added Maximoff to the team, he had stepped back and tried to focus on SI and his split with Pepper- due to his inability to give Iron Man up and her inability to deal with the danger Iron Man constantly dealt with; now with a double helping of anxiety and PTSD and with his fear of what he’d seen through the portal renewed and exasperated. He’d barely picked himself up after that, the loss of Jarvis hitting him hard; an excruciating pain whenever he had to hear that same voice from Vision and be reminded over and over that it wasn’t Jarvis- it wasn’t his baby boy. But still he managed, activating FRIDAY and focusing on his armor instead to keep himself from breaking down from the fear and the pain.
He knew he had a lot to do, since the earth needed to be ready for what was out there, even if he had to force the issue to the people who weren’t
listening
. They needed to be ready, otherwise they wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell.
Twenty-nine years after his friend had had to leave had been the magic number to have him return, even though he couldn’t stay. That was enough to disperse most of his fear and give him hope that the man would make it, no matter what. Even if his appearance had been painful and worrying to see, Tony had faith his friend would survive.
Three more years passed, things getting worse and worse, until it had all come to a head with the Accords and Rogers’ refusal to allow oversight and responsibility, not to mention his old 40’s buddy coming back from the dead and increasing his pigheaded aversion against compromise.
And now, here he was, dying in the very thing he had created to help him survive, because he had trusted that Captain America would be who his legend had said he was; a paragon of justice and
truth
. As it turns out, the one who’d been trusted the most, had turned out to be the most untrustworthy.
How fucking ironic
.
Part of him wanted to give up, to just fade away as the snow closed in to bury his corpse. But his friend’s voice kept echoing in his mind, a sweet sound compared to what he’d had to deal with for so many years. It was one of the only things still making him fight, the other being his remaining friends and team. What would happen to Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy if he died? They would be sad, he knew, as proven by how angry they’d been after the palladium, and Rhodey still needed leg braces; because he’d be
damned
if his best friend- no, his
brother
, was confined to a
chair
.
And Vision, Vision would have to deal with
Ross
wanting to get his grubby hands on him, and Rhodey and Pepper wouldn’t be able to fully protect him, along with Underoos. He needed to survive, because there were people who still needed him, and he needed to get the world prepared for what was coming.
He couldn’t do that by giving up now.
“It’s one of the gifts they gave me. I’ll always be able to hear you if you speak my name, even worlds apart. ”
“I’ve always heard you, Anthony.
Always.
I had no choice but to stay away, because you would have been in danger had I come when I was too deep inside the war. It pained me to do that, but I had no choice. I had to keep them away from you.”
“One way or another, I will return to you. I swear it, even if I have to stumble through the void on one leg. I will never abandon you.”
Closing his eyes and letting that voice wash over him, Tony called the image of his friend to the front of his mind, parting his lips to call out his name right before he passed out from his injuries..
“I need you...Katashi...”
What he would later come to find out, was that his friend wouldn’t be alone when he came; that he would bring along a friend of his own for the ride.
**
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
*
A featherlight touch carefully gliding along his face is what wakes him some time later, his vision blurred as he stubbornly forced his eyes to open. The chill and snow creeping along his body gave away the fact that he hadn’t been moved since he’d passed out. Not knowing if he was in safe hands or if some enemy- possibly even HYDRA, had found him, his brain hadn’t yet caught on to the fact that an enemy wouldn't be gentle as he fought viciously against the desire for sleep to find out what was going on. It took more effort than it should have to keep his eyes from closing again, but his attention was instantly caught on the violet river rippling above him-
Awareness crashes into him as his lips tremble from the cold, his breath hitching in realization, causing his throat to ache even as a weight eased from his chest; his eyes never leaving that comforting, familiar sight.
“
Oh, Anthony...What has been done to you..?”
A low, heartbroken voice reaches his ears a second later, making his mangled heart beat faster as sheer
relief
threatened to drag him under.
He doesn’t know if he says anything, his throat constricted and burning as he tried to breathe, pain stabbing at him from his chest area at the action. He heard a broken moan that he only vaguely realized a few moments later came from him. A part of his clouded mind wondered how extensive his injuries were, the severe cold having numbed most of his body to an alarming degree, though he couldn’t focus too much on that fact at the moment. His lips moved as he attempted to tell his friend about the distress signal button on his wrist, the one he hadn’t been able to reach with the armor compromised as it is, not knowing if the words escaped through the ringing in his ears.
His attention shifted to the hand that pressed against his cheek, a stuttering sob scraped against his shattered chest as blessed warmth slowly began to seep through the rest of his body, the ringing fading to allow Katashi’s voice to reach his ears and echo in his mind.
“It is alright now. We have you.”w
Later, he’ll blame the blood loss for not catching that, his mind too fuzzy to properly notice that the hands pulling his suit away are too much for merely one person. Coupled with the one caressing his cheek and gently brushing along the scrapes against his skin, there were
three
hands moving along his suit, one going to his wrist and searching for a few moments before pressing down, and two others carefully peeling the bottom of his suit off, leaving his chest piece on. Carefully, Katashi’s hands lifted his head, placing something soft under it as warmth surrounded him like a bubble of safety.
It’s that warmth that started to drag him back under, a ragged sigh slipping from his split lips as his body relaxes. He could feel Katashi’s hand sliding through his hair, adding to the comfort he felt even with his many injuries. Another hand settled on his calf, too far for Katashi to reach without stretching, but Tony couldn’t piece together facts at the moment, only feeling safe in the hands of one of his oldest friends.
A strange tingle suddenly began to spread across his chest, waking him slightly, though not for long as it dulled to an even deeper warmth, his breath coming just a little easier as he finally fades; the feeling of lips against his forehead the last thing to register before darkness took over and he’s tossed into the dark void of sleep.
**
Hours later, Tony wakes up in a hospital bed, his chest feeling like hammered shit and the good morphine flowing through his IV. It’s a bit hard to bring his thoughts into focus through the drugs, but somehow he managed to think past the fuzz and distant pain, his head slowly lolling to the side to survey his shadowed room. He could see a chair angled towards him next to his bed through the limited moonlight bleeding through the blinds on his window and a bit of light from the hall, and his heart monitor was beeping a steady rhythm; two things he catalogued but ignored in favor of processing his memory and how he’d managed to get himself in the hospital this time-
It’s too cruel, the way it all comes flooding back a mere moments later; bashing against his skull like a cruel game of Whack-A-Tony with each connecting puzzle piece; The video,
a hand around his mother’s throat
/
Did you know
/
So was I
, Rogers above him,
the shield coming down over and over and
over
, the
cold
, a river of
violet-
Realization came crashing through instantly, shattering the never-ending repeat of haunting images as his body tried to jerk upwards, his breath coming slightly faster from the pain and an almost
vicious
need to
see
if it was true-
A weight pushing down against his shoulder easily forced him back down, but it’s the
voice
that makes him
stay
down and rapidly calms the rising panic at being restrained almost instantly.
“Do not move so carelessly. You are not yet fully healed, Anthony, and I find distress in watching you bleed more than you already have.” The voice that he hadn’t heard in over 3 long (
too long)
years glides into his ears and through his brain like sweet honey, a balm to his shattered heart and soothing him even more so than the morphine.
A breathless laugh escaped him before he could stop it; combining with an almost broken sob that dragged, ragged against the back of his throat, his body relaxing against the bed as his eyes moved to the touch on his shoulder. He could barely see the silver-hued skin- instead of pink or milky white- of a slender hand tipped with deadly claws between the black fabric of fingerless gloves, so alien and yet familiar at the same time, despite obviously not being completely human. His own hand shifted to clutch that grounding weight as Tony let his eyes move upwards with a heady sense of relief warming his chest.
It didn’t take long for his eyes to connect the hand to an arm covered in silk-like fabric the color of black, and then that arm to a shoulder and neck. His body sags more and more against the sheets the more he sees, and he’s almost completely boneless when his eyes meet a lone orb of silver tinted with lavender glowing in the limited light.
“..
You came..
” His voice was a ragged whisper, full of almost painful relief and joy, his friend smiling softly down at him.
Staring at him now, Tony took in his features, so achingly familiar and almost completely unchanged save for appearing a bit older, and still in the outfit he'd worn when he’d shown up after Killian and Extremis, so different from 32 years ago when he’d left the first time. The top is still a deep black, with a high collar that fits snugly around Katashi’s throat and no sleeves, the bottom stopping mid-rib and trimmed in bright green.
There’s a skirt- he’d called it a wrap the first time he’d been asked but Tony would always think of it as a
skirt
- of lilac-colored fur around his hips, held over pants the same color as the top, tucked into knee-high purple boots with a black clasp around the knees; the flash of turquoise-colored gems a quarter of the size of his palm set into a strange mark on each knee catching his eye as Katashi shifted to cross his legs on the bed, now sitting next to him and letting him indulge in his perusal.
From the second joint of his fingers all the way to above his biceps, black, skin-tight gloves with green trim rested over his skin, and a purple sash criss-crossed over his chest and around his hips over the skirt. It was an almost feminine outfit, though still slightly intimidating, since it highlighted muscles packed into lithe skin framed by black cloth. He doesn’t know the material, but it was softer than anything he knew and five times as durable, something he wanted to tinker with to see if he could replicate it.
His hair had been gathered into a high ponytail tied by another purple sash, though it still tumbled down and dragged slightly on the floor, Katashi having never cut his hair in all the time Tony had known him. A minor portion, however, remained loose to surround his face, tumbling over his right eye in a wild mess and along the left side of his face and stopping in the middle of his chest. Elongated and pointed ears peaked out of the violet waves, making his friend appear like an elf from some fantasy movie with an even stranger fashion sense, though his friend had stated clearly that he was not an elf when Tony had asked him what he was years ago.
“You came.” He repeated, his voice stronger now that he knew it wasn't just a dream, resisting the urge to smile like an idiot as excitement and joy grew in his chest. His grip tightened slightly, clutching Katashi’s hand as if he'd disappear at any moment and ignoring the slight flare of pain that accompanies the movement.
Katashi gave a soft smile as he nodded, his lips parting to respond until another voice, smooth and vaguely amused, beat him to it; Tony’s gaze quickly moving towards the direction it had come from only to widen at what met his eyes.
“
We
came. I do hope you've better awareness when in good health, Anthony Stark. It is rather unsettling that you did not see me when you turned your head a mere second before.” The newcomer stated, purple-hued lips pulling into a half smile as his jaw fell in shock.
Because standing in front of him, was an almost
exact
copy of Katashi with the same hue in hair and skin and lithe but firm muscle; though, obviously, a little more
feminine
. Staring at the stranger, he was stupefied to find she had almost every bit of Katashi’s look down, save for a more curvaceous figure, a bow holding her hair up instead of a simple tie, along with an open area over the top of her chest and being an inch shorter. She even had the exact same outfit!
“...Ok..Ok, time to backtrack. This is an exciting turn of events. You’re a
twin
?!” He exclaimed.
Katashi laughed, settling on the bed next to him with a smile as his hand moved to hold Tony’s, his thumb absentmindedly caressing the back of it. “Not exactly. I will tell you more thoroughly later, when you are not on strange but strong medications, but the simple explanation is that she is me. She is my parallel, born in a world like mine but with a few key differences, such as gender differences-.”
He hadn’t made it hard to connect the dots, even with all the morphine in Tony's system, and his eyes went wide with glee and shock mere seconds after his answer, an almost manic grin spreading across his lips as he interrupted his friend. “Are you telling me she’s from a different dimension? Alternate reality and Multiverse and everything?! How are you here then? You two can actually exist in the same room!? How many laws of Physics are you breaking? I need to scan you when I get back to my lab- Oh! Can she do that trick you do with fire?!” He prattled erratically, his mouth running a mile a minute and not even waiting for Katashi to answer as ideas and theories flooded his mind and chased away the darker thoughts for now, his excitement taking over at the prospect of
science!
His manic grin was only growing wider across his face, pulling slightly at the cuts and making him look like a slightly demented kid in a candy store. “Ok! We’re playing in the lab when I get out of here! I need to scan you and maybe make something blow up!” He declared, holding up Katashi’s hand as if in victory, making both his friend and his friend's female double laugh.
“My, what energy.” She commented, smirking softly as his attention snapped to her. Stepping closer, the woman ran a hand through Katashi’s hair fondly before bending her arm across her abdomen and bowing politely to Tony’s bedridden form. “Well met, Anthony Stark. Katashi has told me much of you, though I see he was remiss in telling you of me.” She teased, smirking as Katashi stuck his tongue out at her. “I am Kanashi Yasei. It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh, as opposed to the restrictions of mere tales from your youth.”
Staring at her in surprise, Tony turned to Katashi and blinked stupidly. “...Is...is she a posher version of you? Because I would damn sure remember you doing a bow or talking like a fantasy version of King Arthur and his Knights.” He asked, sounding vaguely amused and irritated.
Laughter met his statement, Kanashi moving closer to Katashi’s side with a wide grin while the male huffed in amusement at Tony’s side.
“No. He is able to act, as you said, ‘posh’ whenever he wishes, though he has far more skill in bowing like a royal then I. I was merely being polite, as I would hate to have the one Katashi holds so dear harbor any dislike towards me. Would you rather I leer at you?” She hummed, placing an elbow on Katashi’s shoulder and watching him with an amused gaze. A fang peeked from her lip as she smirked. “I’m absolutely certain you would be used to such a thing, what with your attractive features even in such a state.”
Tony blinked, then blinked again before his eyes went wide, turning to Katashi in shock.
“Babe, your twin is hitting on me, and I am so conflicted about what to do now.” He started slowly, his lips twitching slightly before spreading into a wild grin as Katashi gave an amused snort. “Half of me says ‘hell yeah’ because, hell, have you seen the two of you? But the other half is scared she’ll snap me like a twig; because one, I’m still injured, and two, hell-
have you seen the two of you?
” His voice dipped into a mock-whisper as he gave an over-exaggerated look of fear that was ruined by the humor and amusement in his eyes, his eyes shining with glee and amusement and a mischievous grin taking over his lips. “And babe, if you're anything like him, I doubt you could cause more than minor irritation.” He stated, pointing with his thumb at Katashi, who scowled lightheartedly at him with amusement shining in his gaze. “I have to fear for my remaining quantity of sanity more around him than I do anywhere else.”
“You were already half-mad as a child. I merely encouraged it to grow.” Katashi stated promptly, flicking his finger against Tony’s forehead teasingly. “I doubt you have any sanity left at all, much less my presence counting as a danger to it. ”
That only made Tony grin again, swatting Katashi’s hand away lightly with a soft laugh. “My Rhodey-Bear managed to find a bit of sanity and staple it back into my head. Took him years, but at least I'm less inclined to blow up abandoned factories when I'm bored nowadays.” His chest twisted slightly in pain at the mention of Rhodey, guilt eating him alive for what he’d dragged one of his eldest friends into, but he forced it back to think on later; keeping his focus on the two in front of him for the moment.
“Such a tale should prove to be amusing, to hear how he managed such a wondrous feat.” His friend grinned mischievously, leaning closer. “But we can always find a more entertaining pastime,
darling
, if explosive demolition has become so
boring.~”
It was a bit startling, to hear his friend’s voice go from pleasant- like a lilting musical note, to down right
seductive and fuckable
, but he hid his reaction behind a slight cough, attempting to clear his suddenly-too-tight throat. Once he was sure he wouldn’t blurt out the first thing on his mind, he flashed a grin- ignoring the knowing twinkle of mischief in Katashi's eye, though his amusement at how much his friend had both changed and not swept through his chest with tender warmth as he responded in kind.
“Sweetheart, a tumble with either of you in the sheets is more than I can handle right now. As it stands, you'd be left doing most of the work, and I'm not fond of not giving my best in bed.” He leered, flicking a stray hair in Katashi’s face away teasingly.
It worked like a charm, Katashi giving a soft laugh as Kanashi moved to sit next to him instead of merely leaning against her doppelganger’s shoulder. Tony relaxed against his pillows, his mood easing away from the teasing atmosphere to a more somber air as his thoughts circled back around to the reason they were all together in the first place, the hospital bed warm against his back as he met Katashi’s more serious gaze.
It wasn't as bad this time as they hit, the memories; since he knew his call had been answered, Tony could push away most of the hurt to focus more on what had gone wrong. He could put more focus on the things that he
could
fix, instead of the things he couldn't.
With Katashi back, he felt stronger, more capable of doing things right this time. And if he failed again, the male would merely help him back up and encourage him to try again, just as he'd always done. There wouldn't be any underlying disappointment, or subtle jabs at his failures and shots at his ego. There wouldn't be any hint of incrimination.
There would merely be support- support and belief that he could get it right; no matter how many times he had to try.
It had always been that way between them. Whenever Tony couldn't figure out a problem, or was unable to do something while Howard was breathing down his neck, Kanashi would soothe him and help him figure out what was wrong with the equation. He'd been adamant that Tony was never any part of what was wrong, and in fact had spent countless hours drilling it into his head until he could recite the lectures word for word.
Funny, how he'd forgotten them when everything started going wrong.
But that was done and passed. He wouldn't fall for the same trick twice, and now?
Now he had bigger back-up.
He loved Rhodey, and Pepper and Happy. But they hadn't always been able to be there. They couldn't be, not with their responsibilities. He couldn't fault them for it. But they were still held back when it came to Rogers and his motley crew of dancing monkeys.
Pepper had held back before because there'd been conflict with him on the team, and he knew she was itching to get her hands on them now. But she'd tame those urges to more legal ways, if he asked her to. Sure, she'd go through hell and high water just to get him to change his mind, but she'd do it if he managed to stay firm. Even with all her poisonous vengeance and anger towards the rogues, she could still be convinced to stand back.
Happy was brilliant, and he was a great fighter, but Natasha had already proven she could suplex him in a heartbeat. Ever since the Mandarin incident, Tony had done his damnedest to lessen the dangers towards the man as much as he could, before Happy had to kick his ass in the end to make him stop. Point being, Tony would rather set himself on fire while dancing the polka than have Happy in this shitshow.
And Rhodey-
Rhodey, his Sugar-Bear
, the one person who had stuck by him in almost every single conflict. The one who had become
paralyzed
because Rogers couldn't stop for a moment to
think
.
With Rhodey paralyzed, he'd be in more danger until Tony upgraded the suit if he tried to go after the rogues, because Tony was under no illusion that he’d be able to stop his best friend if push came to shove. Rhodey would go to bat for him in a heartbeat, a thought that both warmed him, and terrified him in equal measure. Because Rhodey was vicious, terrifying and protective in ways that made Tony feel a bone-deep warmth that made him grin, but he was still
vulnerable
; his legs would be his biggest weakness until Tony could build him something to work around it.
But Katashi was different in ways they couldn’t be. He was from an entirely different
dimension
, and went by rules that they didn’t. Not to mention, he’d seen his friend heal from wounds even
Rogers
would have spent at least a day in the medbay recovering from. He was also just as important to him as they were, despite only really knowing him for seven years. However, for him, that had been more than enough; since he had also known
about
him for thirty-two. And Katashi had been there for him on the darkest days of his childhood, always trying to make him smile.
He'd only left because he’d had no choice.
Tony couldn't fault him for fighting for his family; not when he would do the absolute same for the family he'd made. Katashi had also been through Hell and had gone through more than even Tony knew of, and he was still kicking, and kicking hard. Tony had seen him heal from a lot of things, and Katashi would never allow someone to come to harm if it was meant to keep him safe, so Tony wouldn't be able to protect him if the male himself didn't allow it. His friend had a self-sacrificing streak a mile wide, ready to shield others with his body if it was needed. And if it didn’t kill him, he’d return it
tenfold
.
That’s why Tony wasn’t as worried about him going toe to toe with the Rogues; because Katashi could take hits even Rogers couldn’t, and still get up to give as good or even more than he’d got.
“..How long have I been out, Katashi?” He asked grimly, knowing he had a hell of a lot of work to do now that he was awake; he needed to work on the Accords, get Ross out, rebuild the Avengers, and a whole slew of other worries and problems to deal with. He’d already started with Ross, hacking the Raft with Friday's help and gaining every dirty little secret the Thunderbolt hid in his shiny little fortress. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, but he knew for a fact that those files were still in his database under heavy encryptions behind a nasty firewall. I mean, really; allowing one of the best hackers into the Raft when he was known for going after people who hurt or threatened those he cared about? Yeah, Ross had hit the point of idiocy in thinking Tony had only come for Rogers’ location. The General was a danger to Vision and the Spider Kid, not to mention any other enhanced who signed the Accords, and even Rhodey and Pepper would be in danger if his focus turned to them; along with everything he'd done to Bruce and Jolly Green. He couldn't allow Ross to turn a document for the accountability and responsibility of enhanced beings into a cage that would turn them into either experiments or weapons. Ross couldn’t be allowed to have free reign to push his agenda through the Accords using the public's fear of Rogers and his team, not when it would only make things worse.
But he needed to focus, right now, on what had gone on while he'd been unconscious and just how many days it had been. He'd need to wait until Pepper came by for the more detailed version, but Katashi and Kanashi could give him at least the bare bones, since he'd never known Katashi not to keep an eye on his surroundings along with important information, and the male had hinted that his female counterpart was extremely similar to him.
At his question, a complicated look crossed Katashi’s face, his friend shifting and pulling their joint hands into his lap. Kanashi settled against his side, watching Tony with a steady gaze, an unreadable look in her eye. An unsettling feeling settled in his chest, making him wary as Katashi answered him.
“You have been unconscious for a week, and were required to go through intense surgery when you were first brought in and...a-and flatlined twice upon the medical table.” Katashi swallowed thickly, his grip tightening on Tony’s hand, while his gaze stayed on Tony’s face. “When we first arrived, I feared we were too late. You suffered severe hemorrhaging, and had two severely broken ribs, one of which pierced your lungs, along with several bruised and cracked ribs. You also had a broken tibia and fibula in your right leg, along with a hairline fracture along both of your femurs and a crack to your right ulna with severe bruising on your radius. Your cranium suffered several concussions that bordered severe along with a crack in the left side and center of your skull. There were several places along your body that were bleeding, both outward and inwardly, and your eye socket had a hairline crack along the left side. Three of your fingers were also broken with two having hairline fractures and one shattered along with a double fracture in your left wrist.”
Katashi took a deep breath, his hands shaking around Tony’s, while Tony was staring at him with numb horror, his eyes wide. From all the injuries Katashi was listing, Tony could feel only half of them, his hands aching just a bit and his chest not hurting as much as he'd expected it to. His attention snapped back when his friend continued.
“There were multiple lacerations and contusions along your body, the worst concentrated on your chest, some requiring several stitches and almost causing severe blood loss. Your fabricated sternum was shattered beyond repair and helped pierce your lungs along the primary bronchus and pleura diaphragm and severed a small canal to your heart along with a slight nick to your aorta. There were also signs of hypothermia and frostbite in your limbs and along your face and signs of hypoglycemia. Had we not arrived and taken action so quickly, you would have either been severely disabled pending your rescue, or...” His grip around Tony’s hand was almost painfully tight now, his gaze roaming his face as two fingers pressed against the inside of Tony’s wrist to catch the pulse now beating strongly through his veins, obviously needing reassurance that he had made it in time. “..O-or perished in that forsaken tundra.”
For several minutes, all he could do was stare, swallowing thickly around the lump in his suddenly too-tight throat as his hand curled around Katashi’s wrist. “..H..How did I make it back alive, then?” He asked, controlling his breathing in order to keep from panicking. Panicking could come later, when he was in his workshop and could afford a moment of weakness outside of the public eye. Right now, he needed answers, and panicking would delay those answers. “How did I survive long enough to get here?”
“He said we were
nearly
too late, Anthony Stark. As it is, we barely made it in time to mitigate the damage.” Kanashi stated gently, watching him with a sharp and knowing gaze that prickled along his skin in an almost uncomfortable way, mostly from how that gaze seemed to see more than what Tony showed. “You were there for more than thirty seven hours after we arrived along with an undisclosed time before that since we were unable to move you without causing further damage, and your retrieval came at the hands of a strange being with red skin and a man named Everett Ross after you informed us of the distress signal button located on your wrist. Nineteen of those hours consisted of our efforts to fix most of your wounds while sharing warmth to keep the frostbite at bay. We had to leave you five minutes before they arrived to stay out of sight, and managed to slip onto the aircraft they commanded without much awareness.” Kanashi answered, placing her hand on Katashi’s shoulder while Tony watched, her words making him both relax and grow nauseous simultaneously. He was beyond relieved that he’d actually managed to tell them about the distress button before passing out, no doubt about that, but now he had begun to realize something important; hence the nausea.
Katashi had come, likely expecting some trouble, but had been completely unprepared for the image of a Tony Stark slowly bleeding out from numerous wounds and dying with blood in his lungs; had very likely nearly gone into a panic at the fact that he didn’t know if he’d arrived too late or just in time, if what he remembered about the male still held true.
Taking another deep breath, he clutched his friend’s hand, a sudden understanding crossing his mind that Katashi would probably never forget that image; would probably forever picture numerous scenarios in which he was too late and had to watch his life fade, or of Tony dying instead without the other ever knowing because he hadn’t thought to call for him- constantly haunted by ‘
what-ifs
’. He knew his friend well enough to know he’d always have that one thought in his head, that he could have been too late had he been merely a few moments slower. It made Tony’s stomach churn and sat heavy in his chest, since he would never have wanted to place that burden on any of his friends, least of all Katashi.
Tugging at Katashi’s hand, Tony placed it over his heart, watching the other as the male sagged against him, his head resting against Tony’s shoulder. To think, he had spent
years
trying to fit in with a team who had been toxic from the very beginning when he’d been given the perfect example of
actual
care in childhood by the very person who had saved his life just a week ago, and later even further by his dear Platypus. It was startling, to think he'd become so stupid in the years leading up to Iron Man, and then afterwards; letting Fury and Natashalie get to and manipulate him using his own insecurities without him catching on until he'd already been burned. It was definitely a wake-up call.
After a moment, he turned his attention back to Kanashi while curling an arm around Katashi’s waist, gaining a small nod from her as she continued the explanation.
“Katashi and I hold a gift for magic; our kind of magic, specifically, but not the type you’ve already encountered.” She clarified before he could even grimace. “Our magic may be similar, but it is by no means the same. For one, our magic does not allow us to tamper with the unwilling mind. It also has specific uses and consequences when certain spells are used. Of the spells we know, one in particular allows what you would call a ‘
Transfer
’ when dealing with healing the wounds of another. It is a type of healing spell, but it does not erase the damage like other spells. Merely
moves
it. Had we used any other, you would not have been stable enough to move when your rescue came.”
“...Where did you move the wounds to?” He asked cautiously, a heavy sense of apprehension rising as he took notice of how Katashi tensed slightly at his question, while Kanashi tilted her head and regarded him with an unreadable gaze. She kept quiet for a moment, glancing at her male counterpart before answering, her voice soft and calm while Katashi only tensed further.
“The
Transfer
allows only one place of which the wounds may go. Of the entirety of your wounds, ⅔ of them were taken. I hold a third of them, and Katashi holds the other third. Your wounds were divided equally amongst we three, so that the damage you suffered could be lowered to a manageable level for all. Had we not, you would have died in the tundra with us forced to watch by your side.” The last part was stated pointedly, a soothing note in her voice that made it obvious to him that she was attempting to keep from causing him distress at her answer.
But nothing could keep his mind off his realization; that they had actually taken on
psychical injuries
that they could've used lower, less taxing healing spells on,
just to keep him alive
. Had actually gone an extra mile to make sure he
survived
by doing what they could to heal as many of his wounds as they could, even if it meant they had to hold them instead. To someone who had grown up with so few people who he cared for and often went the extra mile for and who did the same for him, it both frightened and elated him to have someone go that far for him, since Rhodey had been the one who had usually done damn near close to it most of the time. Pepper was a close second, but she still had nothing on his two oldest friends.
Though, in retrospect, Tony couldn’t really have expected anything less from Katashi.
“How much is ⅔?” He asked, his voice slightly breathless as his hand tightened around Katashi’s before loosening when he recalled he’d had broken fingers in the tally of injuries Katashi had listed, a heaviness in his chest and his throat feeling too tight with barely suppressed emotion.
Fuck,
he couldn’t help but draw Katashi closer, tears in his eyes from the flood of emotions swirling around in his chest. “And how are you hiding them?” Because he
damn sure
would have
noticed
if they were injured, no matter how doped up on morphine he was.
She doesn’t miss a beat, nor did she hesitate to answer, watching him calmly as Katashi’s arms circled around his waist, clutching him while being careful of his wounds. “The wounds I took became four cracked ribs, a mild fracture in my sternum and minor laceration to my pleura diaphragm where I managed to lessen the damage to your lungs and remove or piece back together a fraction of the shards of your artificial sternum, a mild contusion along the bone of my eye socket, a hairline fracture in my ulna, minor contusions along my fibula, mild lacerations along my chest along with minor contusions, a split lip, and a fractured wrist. Currently, I need only wait for my sternum, eye socket, and wrist to completely heal before I am back in full health. For Katashi, the spell provided him with a broken tibia, a bruised ulna and radius, a minorly shattered ring finger and hairline fractures along his other two, the rest of the damage I managed to take from your shattered sternum without completely fixing it due to a lack of materials to build you a functional and stable sternum, a mild laceration in his right lung along the primary bronchus- that I am quite certain caused most of your difficulty breathing, along with the severed canal to his heart that have both already repaired themselves, the majority of your head trauma and almost the entirety of the cracks in your skull, a small fracture to his eye socket, several contusions and small lacerations across his chest and spread sparsely along his body. As of now, he merely has a minor concussion, minor cracks in his sternum, a fracture in his ring finger, and a small abrasion on his lung to worry with.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “As for how we’ve managed to hide the damage, a simple illusion goes a long way, especially when almost everyone is unaware we are even here.”
His body instantly tensed, years of hiding Katashi’s existence rearing its head and catching the last part quickly, even as another part of his mind froze in shock and horror at her answer. “Who knows?” He asked, fear forming in the pit of his stomach at the possible outcomes of Katashi’s existence being exposed. There was no doubt his friend was strong, but that doesn’t stop Tony from worrying.
“At the moment, merely one, though I have my suspicions about another. I believe the first introduced herself as Friday. The second is the strange being I’ve heard be called ‘Vision’ on numerous occasions when I check the perimeter, who glanced towards our location when he and Mr. Ross arrived to retrieve you and again when we boarded the aircraft behind an illusion. I do not yet know if he truly saw us, or if it was merely his senses being triggered by the strange object embedded in his forehead feeling my presence, but I would add him among the list as a precaution.” She explained, tapping her chin in contemplation as his muscles slowly loosened. Friday wouldn’t alert someone of their existence unless he was in danger, and Vision he could trust to keep it to himself to learn more instead of instantly telling anyone. He doesn’t notice the odd looks crossing Katashi’s face at the mention of Vision, nor did he see the same happen to Kanashi a moment later, lost in thought himself
“Your creation is quite protective of you, Anthony.” Katashi continued after a few moments, pulling back slightly to smile softly, though his gaze held traces of confusion and worry; worry that Tony instantly understood, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat. “We were forced to release the illusion while you were resting lest she call your rather impressive security when her sensors picked up the faintest trace of our presence. She has been most anxious to speak with you.” He gestured to the bedside table, where Tony could see a modified StarkPhone had been placed next to a StarkPad tablet.
Sitting up with Katashi’s careful help, Tony felt a warm smile spread across his face, taking the phone from Katashi’s hand. As he reclined back against the pillows, his nimble fingers made quick work in unlocking the phone and pressing the call button.
“Should I be worried about you being overprotective, Sweetpea?” He teased fondly.
It only took a second for the phone to connect to her servers, since it was one of his personal phones and had been modified to fit a multitude of purposes, the sensors clicking in recognition of his voice patterns as Friday’s worried voice filled his ear a few seconds later.
“At this point, my protocols are within limits, Boss. Should I send a suit?”
His baby’s worried voice was a thing of beauty as he reclined further against the sheets, smiling big as Kanashi and Katashi watched with amused smiles.
“Maybe send one over as a precaution, sweetpea. I need an update. What have I missed?”
“Stark Industries is running smoothly, though Ms. Potts had to put a few of the board directors in line when they began to get antsy due to your hospital stay. Colonel Rhodes has been moved into the ICU in your current hospital residence under medical watch with Vision stationed outside his room, Spiderman is currently in Physics listening to a lecture, Ms. Potts is in a board meeting, and Mr. Hogan is at Stark Tower working. You were found in Siberia thirty-nine hours after you went offline, and thirty-seven hours after you sent out a distress signal, and have been unconscious for over a week and a half while your wounds were treated. Unfortunately, the damage to your sternum was too extensive, At this time, a temporary brace has been placed to keep your ribcage from collapsing, but a sturdier version needs to be fabricated soon...”
She trailed off, before continuing in a quieter tone, her voice sounding so
human
that pride bloomed in his chest; even as his heart broke for how
scared
his baby girl seemed.
“Boss..There’s...There’s something else..”
Frowning slightly, Tony felt a chill go down his spine moments later as a suspicion rose in his mind, her words holding something ominous...
“..What is it, Sweetpea..?”
Before she could answer, Katashi’s hand gently turned his attention back to the male, the chill growing stronger at how solemn his friend looks; an undercurrent of anger seen in his gaze, though Tony could tell it wasn’t directed at him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kanashi making the same expression, one of her hands slipping into his as a means of comfort.
“Anthony…”Oh.
Oh,
that wasn’t good. Katashi had
never
sounded so pained, even after he’d arrived from a battlefield half-dead and half-blind from his own blood. “..Since we arrived to find you, we have attempted to keep up with any knowledge pertaining to you, especially things pertaining to your health. As such, we have.. come across a...a
complication
…. Something a woman named Helen Cho has noticed and studied.” Breathing deeply, Katashi ran his fingers through Tony’s hair, a comforting gesture for the both of them. “..She has discovered an anomaly in your organs, in that they have been slowing down over time. It wasn’t initially noticed due to just how slow the regression is, but it has finally reached a point that Dr. Cho was able to pick up on it and find out the cause.” Slowly, his other hand moved to lightly,
gently
, press against the center of his chest; right where the Arc Reactor had been.
His suspicions confirmed, Tony felt his breath begin to shorten as a weight pressed in his chest, panic spiking.
“..I need the Arc Reactor back, don’t I..?” He asked quietly, his voice almost too low to hear even with their enhanced hearing as his hands began to tremble, his ears ringing and drowning out their words all at once as his panic hit a head faster than he could stop it. His vision was starting to go hazy, pressure building against his lungs, and he could vaguely hear Friday speaking; her voice a distorted buzz in his ear joined by Katashi a few moments later. The panic started to grow larger as his body locked up, his chest on fire as pain joined in a bright flare.
After Obadiah, and Killian, and
Extremis
- after
everything he’d gone through
, he’d had the Arc Reactor removed because it presented itself as a liability and glaring weakness. He was more surprised that almost no one had gone for it in all the fights he’d participated in, though he could likely attribute that to the fact that it’s exact purpose was a closely-kept secret.
And now,
now
the fact that it wasn’t in his chest, cutting down his lung capacity and causing frequent chest pain along with a constantly high temperature due to the energy output of the Arc and lack of proper insulation, was what was
killing him
.
Oh, he could hear his enemies laughing at the fucking
irony.
From scraps in a cave, to palladium poisoning and then discovering a new element, the Arc reactor had constantly caused him struggle; the decreased lung capacity and need for a new sternum supported that fact. The irony wasn’t lost on him either on how this directly opposed the circumstance of the palladium poisoning; as if there wasn’t enough irony in this situation.
Back then, it had been the Arc Reactor killing him. Now, its absence threatened his life.
A pressure on the back of his neck and around his wrist snapped his mind back into the present with a sharp flinch, his lungs burning with the need for air as his chest heaved sporadically, causing his chest to constrict with more pain. The touch anchored him when he remembered who was in the room with him, Tony slowly blinking the haze from his eyes to see Katashi leaning in his space, one hand holding his wrist with two fingers against the pulse point and the other barely seen from the corner of his eye behind him. Kanashi reached for his other hand, gently grasping and pulling it to press against her chest with her lips moving to form words that are obvious from her movements as she coaxed him to breath. And slowly, bit by bit, he could feel the burn decrease as he began taking slow, stuttering breathes that clog in his throat and lead to a cough at first, before evening out the more he followed her movements; his throat feeling too raw and his eyes burning as his body relaxed bit by bit. His breath hitched slightly, and sound slowly came back as his body leaned forward for his head to rest on Katashi’s shoulder.
“..Good. You’re doing wonderful, Anthony. It’s going to be alright, I promise you. Just breathe. Just like that.” His voice was calm, low and soothing like an old lullaby in his ear as a claw-tipped hand gently ran through his hair, massaging at his scalp with the utmost care that it almost made him cry; his emotions a mess from the rollercoaster they’d been on for the last few
years
, the recent chaos only exacerbating it. “There you are. You’re doing so well. We are here Anthony, in any way you need us. You will not go through this alone, not anymore. I swear to you.” His voice stays low, murmuring praises and encouragements that hit deep at the part of him that had constantly craved it, his body sagging further against the male with a ragged sigh.
“..I-I’ve been...told that swearings’ bad...” He joked weakly, his voice weak and shaking slightly. Katashi huffed softly with amusement, though Tony could hear the hint of relief in it too as fingers continued shifting through his hair.
“I have a reliable source that proclaims that is only true around children.” He quipped back, to which Kanashi snorted at but didn’t add to.
“Oh, then I’m good... You know, I have no idea what this is made of.” He said absentmindedly as his hand ran across a bit of the fabric of Kanashi’s shirt, his voice still just a bit weak. He paid no attention to the fact his hand was against her chest, most of his focus trying to identify the fibers that held no familiarity. It was softer than anything he’d ever felt- which was damn impressive considering who he was, yet felt tough; similar to a bullet vest, except it was too flexible and an entirely different material.
“I’d be surprised if you did. This wasn’t a common fabric even in our worlds.” Kanashi hummed, showing extraordinary patience in his actions when most women would have either smacked him silly or tried to charm him for a night in bed by now- the latter of which she had only been teasing him about earlier. She, however, merely pressed her fingers against the inside of his wrist, keeping focus on his pulse just like Katashi, and letting him try to figure out what kind of fabric her shirt was made from.
Katashi’s fingers carefully and gently scratching his scalp brought his focus back towards the male, his shoulders slumping as the male massaged the back of his head in blissful ministrations. It didn’t help to keep him relaxed at Katashi’s next question, but it was heaven while it lasted.
“..Anthony, what has happened in my absences? Please, start from the beginning.” Katashi’s voice was soft, calm and poised with a lightness to his inquiry as he regarded Tony with a steady gaze. For all that the question is dangerously loaded, Katashi appeared to have merely asked about the weather or how his day was.
But oh, Tony
knows
his friend; he knows- in the tells made by the barest hints in his facial expression and body language that still stand out clear to him no matter how long they've been apart- that something
horrible
had happened to his friend in their time apart; the barest tremble in his fingers that gives away the intense fear he’s hiding, the barely-there twitch of his nose and his ears that show he’s using Tony’s voice and scent to keep calm. He knows by the barely-there
pitch
in Katashi’s tone that he's beyond rage. Katashi is
ice-cold
with
fury
, angry at the events that marked their reunion, but his rage is so deep that he’s
calm
.
That anger?
It’s
deadly
.
It’s dangerous because, the last time his friend had been this angry, Howard had been haunted with horrifying nightmares and small bouts of bad luck for
months
after a bad day had ended with a broken arm and multiple cuts and bruises for Tony after Howard had drunken himself into a stupor, disappearing more often on his searches and generally ignoring Tony’s existence when he was home. Katashi had arrived a few hours after it had all happened, and had taken care of the bone and bandaged him up better than Jarvis had attempted to, since Howard- still drunk off his ass, had refused to allow him to go to the hospital. Not to say that Jarvis hadn’t
tried
, but they hadn’t had the supplies needed for fixing a few of his bad wounds and setting the bone right until Katashi had arrived, bringing an entire kit that he’d left for Jarvis to find which he’d been able to use to set the bone, stabilize it, wrap it in support, and deal with the worst of his bleeding and bruises with a weird paste that had tingled on contact (He still didn’t know what it had been made of).
He’d explained that one of his friends was a damn good doctor, like a mad scientist with biological chemicals without being clinically insane, who had created the paste during one of Katashi’s multiple training mishaps because he’d gotten tired of, to quote Katashi’s words from his friend, ‘a reckless idiot’s tendency to lift boulders as training instead of regular training weights like a goddamn sane creature with more than one brain cell to run bodily functions.’ That, and he’d been like Tony in his worst binges; forgoing food and sleep for extended experiments and extensive studies.
After that, Howard had ended up at the bottom of the stair, covered in scratches and two broken fingers with a minor concussion but otherwise unharmed; suddenly
terrified
of being around Tony at all. even shying away from him almost
fearfully
outside of the public eye and being short and blunt whenever he had to interact with him.
It had been one of the best times he could remember, with Katashi sharing stories of his friend and all the mishaps they’d gotten into in his attempts of medical study, even if Katashi had had to leave the next day. Afterwards, Howard had mostly just ignored him, Tony soon leaving on his way to MIT; and nothing to that extent had happened afterwards whenever he and Howard had had to interact the times he actually came home for break.
Needless to say, Tony exerted
extreme
caution with that voice.
He flinched slightly when slender fingers gently ghosted across his cheek, his eyes turning to Kanashi, who, unlike Katashi, watched him intensely. This caused him to swallow thickly, the hand she still held curling to grip hers tight while his other did the same with Katashi’s.
“...I..I don’t know..where to start..I-” Pulling in a sharp breath, Tony bowed his head to hide his face against Katashi’s shoulder. “..A lot’s happened...since last time…” His hands trembled in theirs. “..Katashi...I..I lost him...I lost Jarvis..” His voice comes out so small, so
broken
, and a sob caught in his throat even as Katashi went stone-still against him; Tony forcing the emotion back so that he won’t break down until he has it all in the open.
He needed to explain first; needed to tell Katashi everything.
A part of him is afraid; scared that his friend will see Roger’s side, and leave Tony alone like so many have done. Terrified that one of his remaining friends will turn on him because he’ll finally see how utterly
useless
and pathetic Tony is. But, there’s another part of him, a part that whispered about Katashi’s actions in the past; every touch and smile of affection, every encouragement and soothing word, every reluctant parting. And he can’t help but hope that the insecure part of him will be wrong, that the cynical voice in his head won’t actually turn out right again like so many times before. Katashi had gone tense above him, his grip tightening minutely but loosening before Tony could feel even a hint of discomfort. And Kanashi, though he’s only just met her, is already attempting to comfort him; her hand running along his back in gentle, soothing movements while the thumb of her other hand caresses his in a bid to offer comfort while leaning against Katashi, even though she never met Jarvis and shouldn’t know what it means for Tony to have lost him.
So, he took a leap, opened his mouth, and the words just fall out; sometimes in jumbling messes as a sob hitched against his lips, and sometimes going off on a tangent in a half-angry/half-sad rant about the absolute bullshit that his life had become. But, bit by bit, he explained as much as he could. From the beginning in Afghanistan, to the Palladium, to Killian, to Sokovia and
Ultron
, he explained it all from the very beginning; knowing Katashi would want all the details Tony was willing to part with.
He starts with Yinsen, talking about the man who’d kept the Merchant of Death alive even after his weapons had been used to kill the man’s family, and the agony of waking up during the surgery with said man’s hands wrist deep in his chest. He explained Yinsen’s plan to die in those caves, something he’d kept from Tony until that fateful escape as they built and built, and how his last words forever ring in Tony’s head while he carries the soul of a good man who died as a result of Tony’s ignorance and negligence and the remainder of his sins carved into his chest. He tells them of coming back, the press conference, shutting down the weapons division because he couldn’t stand the thought of anymore of his weapons getting into the wrong hands again. They stay quiet through it all, even as he details making the armor and the first flight. He almost stopped when Katashi gave a truly
horrifying
snarl that echoed deeply in his chest when he tells them of Obadiah, of having the Arc reactor torn out his chest while the man he’d thought cared for him spoke only of how useful he was as a golden goose, and how he’d had to
crawl
to his workshop for the very first reactor that Pepper had framed for him. But he kept going, kept talking about fighting Obadiah, overloading the giant Arc in the SI building and killing the man who would have been his murderer, had he not been a stubborn bastard who was hard to kill.
“Your tenacity is inspiring, despite the trouble it caused in your youth for your nanny and dear Edwin.” Katashi remarked, giving a dry smile at the memory of the beloved butler even as the barely-there tremble in his hands increased.
Tony gave a sardonic grin, brittle and shaking. “I’ve perfected it to an art form, I swear. Poor old Jarvis wouldn’t be able to handle the little shit I’ve become.” It ached, to talk about either Jarvis, even with the passage of time with Edwin. The man had been a father to him in all but blood and name, and to lose his baby boy, his last connection to the memory of a man who had picked a little boy off the ground and given him the tools and books to silence the screaming need in his head to create, threatened to almost drown him. But, to not talk about him with the only other person alive who knew what had gone on in that house along with the old butler felt like a misstep to his memory. Because Katashi and Jarvis had been the ones to keep him
good
when Maria couldn’t, and Howard
wouldn’t.
“Oh, I doubt that. He had a certain talent for keeping you in line even at your most brattish times.” Katashi’s reply was quick, dripping with dry humor and rueful amusement even as he scrutinized Tony.
The reply caused him to laugh, just slightly so that he didn’t undo the work already done on his ribs, with just a hint of nerves at how intensely Katashi was studying him.
It’s after that small reprieve that he starts on the Palladium incident, about how the metal had begun poisoning his blood and killing him just as much as removing the Arc would have (how he’d
known
it would but had planned to take care of it later). But it’s halfway between Natashilie’s infestation and building the particle accelerator that his voice stuttered to a halt as a low
growl
began to rumble from Katashi’s chest, the male’s hand tightening almost painfully around his before quickly pulling away. He stayed incredibly still as, after a few moments of tense silence, Katashi’s head settled against his shoulder; the hair along his arm standing up from the beastial sound that he’d
never
heard from his friend, not even at his angriest.
Kanashi, after a few more seconds of silence, leaned over and gently slid a hand through Tony’s hair, murmuring for him to continue with a dangerous glint in her eyes that lets him know she
won’t
be forgetting anything about this. He doesn’t exactly know what she’ll do with it, though he could guess Katashi’s preference on what to do.
But, he shook the thought away and focused on telling them everything, continuing on to how he’d synthesized a brand new element. Neither Katashi nor Kanashi moved as he continued with the rest; about Vanko, the Expo, Rhodey’s suit going through the override, all the way to where he’d offered Pepper the CEO position and a date, and later on trying to get the new element to be named ‘Badassium’.
A flinch of surprise slipped passed his control as Katashi snorted, his body becoming a little less tense at the small bout of humour, Kanashi even cracking a rueful smile beside them. Pouting at them for a few seconds, Tony wasn’t able to hold back a small grin after a few minutes of being faced with Kanashi’s knowing look and Katashi’s grin visible from the side. Even if it only lasted for a few moments, Tony took it to heart in that moment as he sombered to continue.
A few hours pass as he regales them through the rest, from buying Pepper the two-story rabbit to Killian’s plans, and then to Pepper giving the creep a solid beatdown, filling in a bit more on what he’d told Katashi the last time in the aftermath.
He then tells them about the info dump, and how
no one
had called him, despite how much he could have helped. He almost breaks when he tells them about the agents he failed to save, about what the ones he did had to go through before he could get them out. Twelve hours late to the party, he managed to save over half of the agents, getting them into safe houses or into SI with new identities to keep them safe. And afterwards, how Rogers and Romanoff got off with barely a slap to the wrist, with the Black Widow revealing her inflated ego as she told the Senate they wouldn’t put her in prison because they
needed
her. He tells them everything about her constant jabs towards
his
ego, her narcissism and poor skills in psychological profiling. It’s enough to have Katashi tensed and constantly shifting his hands into clawing motions, Kanashi chillingly silent beside him.
Then he talks about the small missions and time in between, where he slowly integrated the burned agents into SI and made sure that every agent he’d gotten out was as safe as he could get them. How they'd formed a new branch and become known as SWORD, since SHIELD was no more. He spoke about his binges, what he’d managed to create and build and tinker, and his R&D division and how the quirky little ducklings there all treat him like a mother duckling, which is kind of adorable, no matter how many times Rhodey teased him for it. The weight on his chest started to lift the more he talks about them, about their amazing creations that go towards making life
better
, about how
amazing
the new generation is turning out to be. It’s almost enough to make him grin like an idiot, Katashi watching him with pride and soft amusement while Kanashi merely gives a soft smile.
And then he starts on Ultron.
He starts by telling them about how the scepter had been kept on Earth while the Tesseract had been taken with Thor and Loki back to Asgard, and then later about having it stolen by Hydra.
He doesn’t expect Katashi’s reaction. Doesn’t even see it coming. Kanashi’s reaction is almost as jarring, though less intense.
The
moment
he mentioned Wanda, her powers in particular, Katashi jerked up; a look of horror in his gaze as his hands snapped to grasp Tony’s face, obviously making an effort to keep his hold gentle even in his panic.
“Repeat what you just said.” His voice was sharp, shaking with revulsion and fear. He could feel Kanashi’s hand shaking against his, her face hidden from his view by both Katashi’s body and a curtain of her hair. Katashi’s hands nudged his face gently but urgently to bring his focus back, shaking as well as the male stared at him with horror. “Tell me, Anthony.”
Tony’s first instinct is to flinch away, panic surging forward at the sudden reaction and touch. But that’s instinctual, because of all the years
without
Katashi by his side with people who had held no hesitation to hurt him in some way surrounding him; it had nothing to do with
Katashi
himself.
It startled him, seeing his friend
panicking
, to see him actually scared. He’d only seen Katashi do it once before, when he had forgotten something important, but this…
This was actual
fear
, not just worry. Katashi was
terrified
-
for
him.
Because of that, it only takes a second for him to calm down,
knowing
with complete certainty that he is
safe
. He knows that Katashi would rather die than hurt him, intentionally or not.
And, the thing was that Tony knew that Katashi didn't
just
want his previous statement. He didn’t want to know about what she made the others suffer through, didn’t even seem to care. No, all of his focus was on Tony, wanting to know what she forced
Tony
to see. What had
haunted
Tony for so many sleepless nights afterwards, after she had ramped his fear up to ten and then even higher. It’s breathtaking, being the sole focus of someone after so long of being looked-over by all but his closest friends. But, Katashi had always been that way; showing Tony he cared through action rather than words more often than not.
It’s obvious, though, through the intensity in his gaze and how firmly he was holding Tony’s head that he didn’t intend to let this go; his face almost desperate as he waited for Tony to answer him.
Tony hesitated for a few more seconds before he caved, collapsing into Katashi’s hold and breathing easier when the male pulled him closer without a second thought, his face pressed against a firm chest as he did as Katashi asked.
It’s painful, because of course it is, and he spent most of the time just leaning against Katashi while Kanashi held his hand from the side. But he forced the words through the lump in his throat, spilling everything in a way he’d only ever done with Rhodey, and he never imagined how
freeing
it would be to do so. He’d thought the terror would increase if he gave a voice to his fears, no matter how stupid the notion seemed. But, the words keep coming, flowing easier the longer he talks.
Katashi was tense against him, so tense that he could almost see the veins in the male’s bicep when he shifted to rest the side of his face against Katashi’s chest to be heard clearer. Had his friend not had his arms around him in the most gentle death grip he’d ever felt, Tony would have thought the male uncomfortable with his closeness. As it was, he could also feel the tenseness in Kanashi’s hand around his; gently tugging her closer and continuing once she settled against his side with her arms going around his waist in a careful but firm hold.
It was only after, nearing the end that he realized they were trembling. Just the barest whisper of motion, and he wouldn’t have noticed had he not been plastered against one from front and the other from the side, but their reactions were clear to him when he’s so close. It grew worse the more he talked.
Suddenly, one hand from each slid through his hair, cradling his head on either side and stopping his words abruptly.
“Do you trust us, Anthony?” Katashi murmured as he gazed at Tony’s face, strong and sure despite his trembling body.
The question caught him off guard, since it was obvious that he does. Pulling away, he stared at Katashi in question, a chill running down his spine at the look on his friend’s face.
His gaze had gone flinty, bone-chilling and terrifying when combined with his features that had settled into a grim expression. He could see a darkness to Katashi’s expression, a glance to the side revealing Kanashi’s face to be the same. He couldn’t be sure of her at the moment, but Katashi...Katashi he knew he could without a doubt, even if his friend had gotten far more terrifying than Tony remembered him being.
“....Why are you asking me that, Katashi?” His hand gripped Katashi’s arm lightly, Tony staring at him as the male tensed further, looking at him with apprehension.
“...Because she is
still there
, and I need to
burn her out
. I can do it, easily, but I will need to access the memories you have of her to find every hint of her presence. The memories will remain, but
she
will not.” His voice had turned menacing, a hiss in his words as his hand spasmed slightly against his head- wanting to clench, but staying relaxed so that he wouldn’t accidentally hurt Tony in his fury.
“..
What?
” A deep shot of horror went through him at the answer, his eyes going wide as his hands started shaking, ignoring the second half of his statement for the moment as his panic skyrocketed. The world around him became muted as a ringing built up in his ears, colors melding together and pain blooming in his chest.
She was still in his head?!
How long had she been there?! Had she always been there and he hadn’t noticed?!! What-how many of his days had been in her control, for how long-
what did she do-
His thoughts came to a sharp halt as a warm hand cradled his face, the blob of color in front of him suddenly coming into focus as it leaned closer; Katashi watching him with concern, his lips moving soundlessly. Then he began coaxing Tony on breathing, his gaze calm and his hands steady. His other hand was against Kanashi’s chest again, held there as she breathed in a rhythm for him again, both easily managing his panic attack with an efficiency that would have been frightening if he wasn’t so damn
grateful
. Later, he would think of how it was both terrifying and fascinating how they could snap him out of it so easily; but, for now, he was more focused on calming himself down.
With a few failed starts and sputtering attempts, Tony managed to slowly get his breathing back in his control, the world coming back into focus with a sudden clarity that nearly left him dizzy a few minutes later as the pain in his chest began to fade bit by bit. Sound came back soon after.
“That's right, Anthony. Good, just like that…Yes, good. You’re doing wonderfully...” Katashi’s soothing voice murmured, holding Tony’s other hand while his free one curled against the side of Tony’s head. “It will be alright, I promise you.” He curled over Tony when the male’s forehead met his sternum, his free hand gently caressing brown strands in a way Tony couldn't label as anything but tender. He was
safe
, right here; surrounded by warmth and comfort.
Wanda couldn’t get him here
.
A part of Tony was shocked at how much burning
hate
he had seen and felt from them before his panic attack for Wanda and what she’d done, so used to hearing her actions defended because she’s ‘
just a kid, Tony.’
‘
She’s sorry for what she’s done, Tony, stop being petty.’
‘
She’s lost both her parents and her brother,
Tony
, she’s suffered enough.’
‘She made a mistake, Tony;
let it go
.’
It had always been his word against hers, his past somehow
worse
than hers even though she’d
volunteered
for
HYDRA
, while he’d been in
legal
business with the US. It was the fact that his weapons had been in the hands of terrorists killing the people he was trying to
protect
that had made him guilty. He’d been too neglectful, and it had ended with thousands of their soldiers dead with the soul of a good man attached to a man who’d built his own heart and a suit of armor covered in sweat and blood. His negligence was on him.
But he was tired of taking the blame for things he had no control over. Yes, he
designed
the bomb; but he certainly hadn’t
built
it, nor did he
fire
it. His weapons always worked,
always
. It was a simple fact, because any bomb he’d ever personally made had
always
worked. So no, he wasn’t at fault for her parents, because he had trusted a man who used gaslighting and manipulation to make Tony blind to his actions. Stane was at fault for their deaths, not Tony.
No one but his closest friends had really thought of that, though; so ready to blame him for things out of his control.
But now, there’s Katashi, and Kanashi. Two people besides Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey who feel the same about Maximoff; who see her, and hold her
accountable
for her actions. Not to mention the terrifying fact that her magic
is still fucking with his head
.
Despite his abhorrence for all things magical, Tony knows
for a fact
that Katashi won’t do anything to hurt him. Wouldn’t even think of it. He’s gotten enough proof to trust the man throughout his entire childhood. He doesn’t find any change in that now that they’re older. And, Kanashi seems to be an almost exact double of him, despite the little differences that set them apart. She’s still curled against him, her fingers running through his hair soothingly as her other hand rested carefully on his back
If he can trust Katashi, even with all his trust issues, then he knows he can do the same with Kanashi.
Because
no one
can be that gentle if they plan to hurt you. There’s always the little actions, the small instances of almost-violence that most people wouldn’t catch or would just brush off, and even the smallest hints in eyes and tone if one paid enough attention to how they act and speak. Neither Kanashi nor Katashi showed such signs, all of those movements made in anger;
in defense
of Tony, not against him.
That’s what makes up his mind, Tony breathing in deep to steady himself as he sits up and stares at Katashi with resolution.
“Whatever you need to do,
do it.
I trust you two in my head a helluva lot more than I do
her
.” He stated, relaxing into Katashi’s hold and staring up at him grimly. “Please,
get her out
.”
Katashi's lips spread into a truly
vindictive
smile, full of threat and calculation as his gaze constantly moved around Tony’s head, likely seeing Wanda’s magic with the magic he’d mentioned having. His hands shift to gently frame Tony’s head, comforting warmth against his temples as Katashi stared resolutely into his eyes; delivering one statement before softly murmuring under his breath as a shimmering lavender light started coiling from his arms, curling around Tony’s head like smoke.
“Trust me, Anthony,
I intend to
.”
**
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Hello to those who are still waiting on this story! I have good news, and bad news.The bad news, it’s going to take a while for me to update this due to complications in my offline life and difficulties with motivation. It could be months, or even years before I manage to return to this.BUT!I have no plans of just dropping this story! I started this on a whim out of saltiness towards the Rogues and my love for Tony Stark, and it has bloomed into more than I first planned into a whole new monster with somewhat confusing twists and turns even to me. So, what I WILL be doing, is a complete rewrite where I fix some of the issues I noticed and bring about a more concise and layered storyline. I’ve also noticed that my writing style has changed- yet again, so that is also my issue with the existing chapters.There is also the added complication of me branching out into another fandom due to a new and surprisingly deep-rooted obsession, so those of you who are a fan of Demon Slayer, keep a look out! I’ve got much in store for that fandom, but I also want to get back to this fandom as well, which is difficult for me with my attention span and motivation.It won’t stop me, but it does make things complicated, which is why I said it would be a while before an update is available. I have already started the rewrite, which will be a slow process as I figure out where I want this story to go and just what I want in it. A lot of the tags will also change, and I’m still working on pairings and such.So! While I’m working on all of that, I’d love for anyone who wants to to comment on who you think is suitable for Tony, along with who in the Marvel universe you would like me to ship my two ocs with, either in a Polyamorous pairing or individual pairings! You may not know them very well, but even then it’s alright to just give me your opinion! Thank you for waiting this long, and please be patient with me while I figure all of this out ^^””!
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Wowie it’s been a while! Sorry about that guys, a lot of stuffs been going on and I got heavily sidetracked.But! I’m back on this, and this time I’m actually going to stick to it and get those rewrites done! I’ve been staring at this story in my docs so many times, but I always either get distracted or busy and it’s gotten bad, so I’m going to try and break that cycle to get this done and out for you guys!And that’s not even mentioning the comments! There’s so many of you! I honestly didn’t expect that, so it brings me warm fuzzies! I’ll try to reply to all of you, and I’m sorry if I ever miss one! If I do, let me know please! I don’t wanna leave anyone hanging when you’ve all been so patient with me concerning this story!That being said, I’m actually planning to delete this version, because there are some things I can’t change that need to be, so I’m going to fully repost this story once I’ve finished the rewrites, and then there’s gonna be a whole new journey began!The current title of this fanfic is the name you need to look for once it’s reposted, so please, stay tuned and prepare for mayhem!-Hino, The gremlin in the basement