Archive of Our Own

Work Text

The heavy footsteps finally moved away, twisted metal creaking ominously as it gave in under the sheer weight of the patrol. The screeching sounds of the grunts faded soon after, along with the drag of their weapons against the remains of buildings above their heads. Rocks crumbled through the cracks in the ceiling, a part of the steel frame following.    
Tony didn’t dare to exhale properly until he couldn’t hear anything but the wind blowing through the ruins above him, the gentle lull of mucky sewer water around him.
 
James’ harsh breath in his ear.
 
“I think they’re gone now,” he whispered finally, shifting to accommodate James’ weight against his side. It was a tiny space they had crawled into, pressed as close as it was humanly possible. “How are you holding’ up, soldier?”
 
“Been worse. Need a couple of hours.” His eyes were clear, crystal sharp and Tony took a moment to simply hold that gaze. To recollect his scattered thoughts, remind himself that James was a super-soldier and that the wounds he sustained were nothing grave.
 
“Alright.” He said finally, turning his eyes to the far end of the channel, where the corroding pipes disappeared into the dark. The only way in that would lead to their hiding spot. Too much like a cave, too much like the scape of his nightmares.
 
“Hey.” James curled his right hand around Tony’s cheek, pulled him in close. Pressed a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth, soft and gentle. “One last push, yea?” He whispered, nudged Tony’s nose with his own.
 
“Yeah.” Tony swallowed thickly, let his eyes close and took a deep breath. “As soon as you’re good. Not a second earlier, I-I can’t.”
 
His words failed him, crowding inside of his throat and James pressed himself closer, his body a line of solid heat Tony could feel despite their gear. The top of his head just right there against Tony’s cheek, hair too long and dust-matted. It didn’t matter. Tony still hid his nose in it, took a shuddering breath, took that little bit of comfort where he could.
 
He was terrified and so so tired. It’s been too long and Tony felt like he was running on empty. His body constantly burned and ached for the parts that were taken away from him, his heart an exhausted beat against his chest.  
 
“Fuck, Tony.” James finally whispered, metal hand grasping Tony’s to the point where it should hurt. It didn’t. It grounded Tony, then and there. In this clusterfuck of a moment, with James at his side. “How the fuck did we land in this mess?” But there was no need for Tony to speak up, not really. 
 
The answer was ridiculously easy and they both knew it.
 
Because like so many things in Tony’s life, it all started with an explosion.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The twelve months that passed between Siberia and the rogue Avengers coming back to the Compound were both a gift and a curse.
 
A gift, because Tony had been able to process everything that has happened. He had been able to work things out - both in the safety of his mind and on the political scene. He had the chance to heal from his injuries, to work on Rhodey’s legs. Then he and Pepper worked themselves down to the bone to settle things once and for all, to trash the Accords and rewrite them the way they should’ve been written in the first place. To set things - the compound, the Avengers, the rest of the world - the way they were meant to be.
 
Safe, whole, well protected.
 
And a curse, because despite his life and his four or five schedules being absolutely filled to the brim, Tony still managed to truly feel how utterly fucked up the “team” dynamics were, even before the whole “Accords” shit blew up in their faces.
 
Still, they were back at the Compound, living under the same roof and Tony counted his blessings. Because now, he could say with all honesty that he didn’t feel anything anymore, whenever they were together.
 
They all said their part as Carol sat them down and tore into them full on proper. They  snapped at each other and prodded where it hurt, washed out phrases of “we do it together” and “we need to trust each other” and finally, finally “you lied” laid thick and heavy above the table in the meeting room. Rogers’ eyes were dark and heavy with both disappointment and guilt, Tony’s jaw clenched tight and fingers itched to curl and hit. They stared at each other and slowly, surely, all the others faded away.  Clint’s snarls and Wilson’s platitudes, Rhodey’s calm voice explaining things once and for all.
 
Explaining the truth behind the Accords. The truth behind Siberia.  
 
It all faded into nothing, until there was just him and Rogers.
 
He’d been waiting for an apology, Tony realized suddenly, all this time. Just one, honest “I’m sorry”. No lies, not explanations. No burner phones or letters.  And looking at Rogers then, Tony remembered a quote he read somewhere or maybe heard it, he couldn’t tell..

When trust is broken, sorry means nothing.

And he felt calm.
 
His shoulders relaxed and his lips curled in a smile, a sense of certainty that they would make it through made his fingers unclench. Clarity, like he’d never known before. Tony realized then and there that, once again, they would fight together. They would stand side by side, back to back, protect the Earth as her mightiest defenders. Carol and Rhodey would guide them, keep them focused on what was important. They would push aside their differences and past hurts, they would put their faith in one another as they fought against whatever force were to come.
 
They would be the Avengers everyone needed, saving the world, fighting the good fight.
 
And that was all they could ever be anymore. A team, but not a family.
 
And for the first time in months, Tony Stark truly smiled.
 
---
 
He still worked on their equipment.
 
Rhodey was of a mind to put his foot down on that one, but Tony wanted to. Needed to. If he were to rely on someone’s weapons and gear, he wanted to trust their creator. And they both knew Tony was the best there was.
 
Besides Rhodey knew, deep down inside, that Tony would never step down from this.

Taking Tony’s tinkering away was taking Tony’s essence.
 
“You know they’ll get ideas.” Rhodey sighed, a glass of Aberlour in hand as they stood on the landing pad one warm evening, watching the sun set over the horizon. “Stupid shit, like you fucking owe ‘em.”
 
Tony only shrugged, basking in the new-found knowledge that he didn’t care anymore. Not like he did before at least.
 
“Let them think whatever the hell they want.” He said with a smile, felt the last rays of the sun warm up his cheeks.
 
Liberation felt like the last days of summer and was orange and gold.
 
---
 
And then everything went to shit.
 
---
 
At first, nothing seemed to be different than a regular mission that called forth the Avengers. It was hardly the first time they were faced with a clearly unhinged magic wielder, obsessed with the idea of ruling the world and using summoned beasts to do it. It was like Loki’s unfortunate raid all over again, except less refined and much more messy.

The beasts were some sort of a mutation between a tiger and a stag, and yes, they looked as weird as it sounded - with their clearly feline bodies, but with legs slightly longer than necessary and of course, the fucking antlers. They were fast, thanks to their cat-like reflexes, bodies the size of two or three fire trucks stacked together, big enough to knock out the smaller buildings in the city. When they were summoned , they were as likely to attack him as they were to attack the Avengers. Not that it was any advantage, no. Magical defenses were a Thing, apparently.
 
The man’s magical shields kept him safe, from both the creatures and the Avengers’ weapons, but as soon as he drew them up, FRIDAY pinged Tony about the frequency they were operating at and all the ways she could tear into them if given enough time.
 
Tony trusted that his girl would do just fine all on her own and he dived into the fight, zig-zagging between magic bolts and huge paws. If time was what FRIDAY needed, time was what Tony would give her.
 
He kept getting updates on the evacuation process. The input on his teammates and their status. Primary results of the diagnostic on the beasts were not looking good - repulsor beams and electricity bounced right off of them, as did bullets and Cap’s shield. Their fur was thick enough, either by nature or magic, to deflect everything the Avengers decided to throw at them.
 
To top it all off as the major cluster-fuck of the week, the Avengers weren’t in their full force while dealing with the six or seven creatures and their wack job of a summoner. Rhodey was ground side, military duties holding him back. Bringing Peter in was reserved for absolute end-of-the-world cases. Natasha, Clint and Sam were away, running peacekeeping missions in the Far East. Thor and Loki were still of world, and Tony was on the fence if that was a blessing or a curse right now.
 
He was sadly leaning towards the latter.
 
God, he couldn’t believe he wished Loki of all people was there, Tony thought to himself as he swerved to the right to avoid a direct hit from one glowing horn.  FRIDAY sent an update on her progress with decoding the frequency of the shields, currently at 78%. A repulsor blast between its eyes barely slowed the damned beast down, the screech it gave out vibrating through his bones.

Fuck magic

, Tony thought, the diagnostics already popping up on the HUD display and information already flitting through the comms. Detected movement to his left, coded blue. Then two quick shots, loud enough to be heard over blasts and roars, bullets hitting the beast straight in one of the eyeballs. And promptly causing it to explode in a wave of thick, smelly goop.
 
There were moments Tony kind of regretted that Barnes joined the team.
 
Getting hit with a splatter of vitreous fluid was one of them. The goop clung to his armor, a hefty amount of it covering half of his mask. The smell of it caused his stomach to knock at his teeth and Tony swallowed thickly two times, to get himself under control.
 
Still…
 
He nodded once in the direction where Barnes was supposed to be holed up.
 
“Iron Man, status.” Carol’s voice crackled over the comms and Tony swiped at his mask with one hand. It was good to hear that the good Captain was more pissed than anything else, cursing the very next second as another beast materialized in the middle of the street.
 
Not that the attempt to clean his mask any good, made even more of a mess than wiped the alien goop off, but Tony long ago learned to roll with the punches. This was hardly an inconvenience.  
 
“Alive and disgusting,” he reported back cheerfully as he went up higher and could swear he heard a choke of a laugh over the static. He fired up the repulsors again, twin blasts cutting through the now empty eye socket when the half blinded beast reared back up.
 
It gave one last screech, before it collapsed, crushing cars and street lamps underneath its weight. Tony sighed at the destruction of public property, knowing that the Stark Relief Foundation was already pinged and ready to roll in as soon as it was safe enough.
 
“Well damn me, Winter Wonderland got it in one. Everyone, go for the eyes.” He took to the sky, higher and higher, the data updating accordingly. “FRI, baby, how we’re doing on the shields?”
 
“I’ll be able to get them down in 5...4…,”  FRIDAY began her countdown, and if that wasn’t the chance they were looking for, then someone could shave Tony’s head.
 
“Cap, going after Harry Potter now. ” Tony turned around, the targeting mode already locking on the sorcerer atop the nearest building. The maniacal laughter could be heard even through the havoc of a fight. He clucked his tongue in disdain, “Couldn’t be more of a cliche if he tried.”
 
“We got two more down here,” Steve’s voice crackled in his ear. “Scarlet Witch’s about to rip into the third one, but he’s opening another portal as we speak.”
 
“Shit, where’s Strange when we need him.” Tony scoffed, before skydiving towards the wizard. FRIDAY was a steady presence in his ear, counting down the height and estimated time of impact. The shields around the man shimmered, pulsed and then died down. Tony grinned to himself, saw the flash of fear in in the man’s eyes. “Got you.”
 
“Boss, high energy spike detected,” FRIDAY managed to say and then the sorcerer's face twisted, a snarl forming on his mouth alongside a ball of glimmering, pure energy in his hand.
 
“We will have this world, one way or another!” he roared, voice booming over the sounds of magic and destruction, as he stretched his hands towards Tony.
 
The next thing Tony saw was a burst of blinding golden light. One that was aimed straight at him, a burst of warmth against his chest. For a moment everything went still, went quiet. Everything faded away - the static of the comms, the roaring of the beasts.
 
And Iron Man hung in the air, frozen on the spot as the ray disappeared inside of him.
 
Tony took one shaking breath, his vision filled with absolute brightness.
 
Then he screamed, his body exploding with excruciating pain. Blood boiled in his veins, melted through skin and bone, as he felt as if his heart had finally burst into millions of pieces. Someone called his name and then everything went black.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“I’m sorry, what happened with my what now?” If Strange had any shame to speak of, he would have withered under the heavy weight of Tony’s glare. He didn’t, and it only proved Tony’s opinion that Stephen Strange was even a bigger dickhead than Tony Stark was. “The spell aimed at you was crafted purely with the purpose of …” “I don’t care why it was crafted,” Tony snarled, pain and annoyance getting the best of him, ”I do care however, that apparently somehow, half of my goddamn soul has been sent fuck knows where!” Because apparently that was exactly what had happened. That bright light severed an even half of Tony’s soul like it was a goddamn avocado and then fucked off with it. Of course they hadn’t even managed to question the asshole responsible for it.  The moment Iron Man started plummeting to the ground? That was also the moment when Steve’s shield rammed into the sorcerer’s face. From what Tony heard, the clean up wasn’t all that pretty. (What was worse, apparently Carol looked dashing with an unconscious Iron Man in her arms, bridal carry and all, and oh god, Rhodey would never shut up about it.) For now, they were at the Sanctum as Strange’s overly-affectionate cloak swirled around Tony and kept brushing against his shoulders. Apparently he looked worse for wear despite being cleared by Medical.   The site of their struggle was already secured, the Foundation already reaching out to those whose property had been damaged. The sorcerer was dead as one could be, the beasts had been magic-ed away and after a debrief, they had met up with Strange. Who first apologized for not helping, due to his duties as Sorcerer Supreme that had him otherwise occupied. Then took one look at Tony, raised one brow in that annoying manner of his and dropped the soul bomb without as much a blinking. Everyone was talking over everyone by then, throwing ideas back and forth, demanding answers. Tony just sighed, took a seat on the bottom stair and rubbed a hand over his face. He was missing half of his soul. Just how in seven hells was this his life? “From what you told me,” Strange’s voice seemed bored, almost arrogantly so, “the man had copious amounts of power at his disposal, but a staggering lack of control over the summoned creatures. Have you considered he was a mere tool?” “Oh, he was a tool alright,” Carol snapped, her brows pulled into a tight frown ever since they got to the sanctum.  She threw Tony a look and he barely stopped the urge to straighten his back. He knew she was worried about one of her own, but still, even her worry could be scary. “Tony? Would you?” “He did say ’we will have this world’ before doing the soul snagging trick, so I think we can safely assume we will be having another visitor soon.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That’s pretty much all we got.” “Not much to go by,” Strange muttered, exchanging a look with Wong and Tony felt himself bristle again. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to have a decent conversation with the Big Bad the next time I am falling out of the fucking sky.” “Tones,” Rhodey’s hand was a familiar weight on his shoulder, large and warm and Tony brushed it off. Started pacing, fighting off the urge to throw a goddamn temper tantrum. . His soul was torn in two and one half was fuck knows where. This was the exact reason Tony hated magic - everything was going nice and smooth, and some half assed magician in spandex pants and a cheap cape went and ruined it all. Throwing his arms to the sides with a flourish, Tony turned to Strange. “Fine, do your thing, Magic Fingers.” The chorus of Tony, NO should be impressive - Tony couldn’t remember the last time when they all agreed on anything so smoothly. He smirked, felt some sort of bitterness on the tip of his tongue. Of course he would be the one thing they agreed on. But then, Strange’s hands were alight with golden spirals and flickering lights and Tony took a step forward. Like a magnetic pull, like the gravitational field of a star - enticing him, inviting him to come closer, closer. Closer. Close. Strange’s hands laid flat on his chest and fire sizzled in his veins. Tony heard Rogers and Rhodey call out when his chest seemed to collapse. He managed to turned to them, see them make a move towards him, and Barnes and Carol behind them. Saw their wide blown eyes, as their voices became strings of starlight. The edges of the world blurred, greyed out, before the universe crashed around him and all Tony saw, was smoke and stars. --- “Son of a bitch.” Wherever Strange’s spell sent him, it sent him with a fucking bang. It slammed him into the ground full force, knocking the breath out of him and raising dust. It took him a while to gather himself, to get up and straighten, to take a look where he was. Ten minutes later, as he climbed the nearest hill made of rubble and metal, he still was looking and he was still not an inch closer to figuring that one out. An ocean of ruin spread before his eyes. Twisted remains of buildings rose here and there, some looking like skyscrapers remaining somewhere in the distance. He could make out a few street lights, a hood of a car sticking from underneath the rubble. As if someone took the world and crushed it in one palm. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, thick and oppressive and blocking any sort of light. Like a goddamn eternal night, Tony thought, as his eyes got used to the gloom. The air smelled of damp stone, of old metal and years old dust. Tony rubbed the middle of his chest, pressed his fingers to the arc reactor hidden underneath his shirt. It barely gave off a glow,  as if the darkness dimmed its bright light as well. There was still that ache, the one he woke up with, like there were carved empty spaces between his ribs. But it was stronger than it was in the Sanctum, painful and pulling and wherever he was, Tony guessed this was the place his soul was. “Couldn’t be fucking Hawaii,” he muttered to himself as he slowly started his way down the slope. “Or some nice fucking ski resort.” There was no movement amongst the rubble. No human, no dog. No rat. No wind to rustle his hair or stir the scent of old death. There was a fragment of a road at the bottom of the slope, cracked but more in one piece than anything he’d seen so far. Still no sign of any creature alive. Or dead for that matter. As if he was thrown into an empty wasteland. It felt familiar, in a way that caused his stomach to tighten. Familiar, except there were no armies, no bodies strewn around. No red flicker in the corner of his eyes. This time, the destruction was real. And he was once again in the middle of it. Alive and alone. His breath caught in the back of his throat. Felt more like an iron ball as he tried to swallow around it, fingers hovering over the reactor again, twitching to tap it.  Not yet, he told himself, forced his hand to fall to his side. If anything was out there, it hasn't shown itself. “Alright, Tony,” he muttered under his breath, moved forward cautiously. “Get a move on. Not gonna fix things by standing like Lot’s wife, gaping at the rocks.” One step after another, Tony moved forward into what he deemed the heart of the ruin. The cracked road soon finished, forcing him to climb over fallen pieces of walls, crawl through empty windows or under tunnels that were a breath away from collapsing. Constructions that looked familiar, but seemed so old . He couldn’t tell how long he made his slow way through the wreckage. Not long enough for the only few remaining buildings to come closer, but long enough for his knuckles to scrape and bleed, for his feet to hurt. There were holes over his knees and ankles, a scrape over his cheek where a piece of railing gave under his weight and he took a tumble down. Wherever he went, he raised clouds of dust. Still, no sound except the crunch of rock beneath his feet, the screech of metal where he used it to prop himself up. One more building laid to waste to scale, and Tony promised himself to take a break. Lack of people was becoming the least of his worries. He saw no water, Tony realized as he made his way up the half-ruined wall. He saw no animals - not even the tiniest rodent. Without a source of water or food, he would never be able to look for his soul. He wouldn’t last that long. His hands grasped at the ledge, muscles in his arms starting to burn as he hoisted himself up onto the roof. He took a deep breath, inhaled all the grime. The coughing fit that followed left him gasping for air, hand clutched at the chest. It was Afghanistan all over again, with his lungs straining under the crushing weight of the first arc reactor. Only worse, because then he had Yinsen, he had a purpose. What the hell did he have now? With tears stinging his eyes, Tony finally got to his feet. Wiped his face furiously with his sleeve and finally, finally took a look around. Everything still looked the same. Everything still destroyed beyond recognition. Everything, except the body laying but a few feet away. For a second Tony was overwhelmed with the urge to laugh hysterically - because for hours he saw nothing and now a dead body, of fucking course. Lemons and a fucking pinch of salt in the eye, fucking hell, that was his life. He grabbed a brick, just in case, slowly made his way forward. Maybe there as anything he could ransack, food rations maybe, or anything resembling a weapon. He crept closer, careful, quiet on his toes like he was taught to be by necessity and Natasha both. And then his legs gave up under him, as more details registered. His breathing hitched, head swam as he took it all in. The clothing, the design of the jacket. The utility belt. That fucking goddamn arm. That hysterical laugh finally bubbled out of him, as his knees hit the concrete. His fingers scraped at the rough surface, tears falling from his eyes as Tony laughed and laughed. Because somehow, by some sick twist of fate, in a land of utter demolition and with no other sign of life, Tony stumbled across the one and only person he avoided more than Rogers himself. Fucking James “Bucky” Barnes.   --- Tony didn’t know how much time had passed, with him kneeling at Barnes’ side. He just stared at the man’s face, at the ridiculous way his cheek was squished where he lay on the side. There was a scrape at his temple, already closed up and taking the serum-hyped healing factor into consideration, Tony gauged that Barnes has been lying there for a good couple of hours already. Taking a deep, deep breath , Tony rubbed one hand over his face. Keep your friends close and enemies closer. Not that he saw any of his friends here, and maybe he was exaggerating a bit with the whole enemies thing when it came to Barnes. Strangers. They were strangers who made no effort to get to know each other. Satisfied with the label, Tony shuffled in closer, reached with one hand. He thought he could see Barnes’ chest raise ever so slightly, but it would not hurt to make sure. He pressed his fingers gently to the pulse, felt it strong and steady and all of the sudden, Tony found himself staring into clear, grey eyes. Well, maybe making sure would end up with him hurt, Tony thought with a strange sense of disconnection. Cause it sure as hell looked like Barnes was conscious for a much longer time than Tony had initially thought, perhaps making himself a sort of trap and Tony was still touching him, fingers pressed to his pulse. “Fuck.” He skittered away, ass dragging over the concrete surface of the roof. His heart seemed to have lodged itself inside his throat. “Are you insane ?” Barnes just quirked a brow at him as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He wiped off the bits of gravel from his cheek. “That coming from the guy who approached me unarmed?” “You were supposed to be unconscious!” And Tony was supposed to have FRIDAY to run diagnostics and whisper them in his ear. He blinked suddenly, took in Barnes again. He looked pretty much the same as he looked in the Sanctum, like he did every single one of the total of seven times Tony saw him outside of missions  - deceivingly casual. Unnervingly, looking very much at ease, sitting on a half ruined rooftop god knows where, looking at Tony as if he was the one who lost his mind.Which, fair, but not the point. “What are you doing here?” Tony asked, unable to keep the distrust away from his voice. “Strange had no way of touching you with his magical mumbo jumbo.” Barnes shrugged, “Hell if I know. Saw Stevie freak out when you went down like a sack of potatoes, next thing I know, I see a whole bunch of northern lights and wake up here.” Of all the people Tony could get stuck here, why did it have to be Barnes? Something must’ve shown on his face, because Barnes’ frowned, took a step forward and Tony took an immediate step back. The frown morphed into hurt and then into something clean and fake so fast Tony was almost impressed. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Barnes said slowly, as if Tony was a goddam scared animal that needed to be coaxed out of their cage. “Trust me.” “I don’t have any other choice but to trust you now, do I?” Tony bit out, words slipping out as he fought off the urge to rub his fingers over his heart. The ache was becoming unbearable now. His insides seemed to be bleeding and not at the same time, as his heart strained against reconstructed bones. “I got magicked away to a death zone with you of all people. And fuck, it’s not like we’re friends, Barnes. Excuse me if I’ll take you with a goddamn shovel of salt here.” Being civil probably just went out the window, Tony realized the moment the words left his mouth, but Barnes just sighed, looked straight at him. Darkness seemed to press down on their shoulders as they remained silent. And yet, Barnes’s gaze held something in it that, for all his brilliance, Tony couldn’t decipher.   “I don’t want you dead, Stark,” Barnes said finally. His voice was almost kind and not what Tony expected, not at all. “Or hurtin’.“ “That’s…” He cleared his throat, swallowed around the dust. He took a look around, buying some time. The place they were in was a complete disaster, a sea of rubble and twisted steel as far as the eye could see. “Not exactly a common opinion.” Barnes’ eyes dimmed, darkened with something so ugly and raw, it caused Tony to swallow hard. A chill wrapped around his bones, crystalized inside his veins. Like a draft of cold Siberian winter and oh, how well Tony knew that feeling. “I’m sorry.” He said before turning away. His eyes left Tony’s and Tony felt like he could finally breathe. “That, that we fucked you up to the point you think I’d just leave you on your own.” The scoff came easy, slipping through his mouth like air. “I’m a scientist, Barnes.” He took in the wreckage around them, all those mountains of crumbled stone and wire under a pitch black sky. “I learn from experience. How about we drop the heart to heart and figure out where the fuck we are?” Barnes clenched his teeth, chin jutted forward as if he wanted to argue. Took a deep breath, like so many did whenever they were face to face with Tony and his everything.  Then he froze for a split of a second, eyes going over Tony’s head. Barnes obviously did his study of the nearest terrain earlier. He grabbed Tony’s arm, pulled him along through a hole in the roof. Once inside, Tony found himself dragged away from the windows, pushed him into a corner. “The fuck you think you’re doing?” Tony hissed, blood rushing in his ears at the manhandling. “Shut up for a second.” Barnes grit out, head tilted up. He wedged himself into the space next to Tony, bracketing him - protecting him - from God knew what. The thought made no sense.  “There’s something’s out there.” “Just my fucking luck,” he cursed under his breath as he tried peeking out over Barnes’ shoulder, to gaze through the windows. Nothing. He saw absolutely nothing. He opened his mouth to speak out again after a couple of minutes have passed. Barnes clearly imagined something - up to now, the only living thing out there were the two of them. And that’s when he heard it. A low, long screech. And the sound of something cutting through the air, like a flap of sails or large wings. And a large shadow blocked out everything, covered the building in complete darkness. Memories burst forth, images of space filling his vision and a heavy weight of bomb resting on his shoulder. JARVIS’ voice in his ears, long gone and never forgotten, Pepper’s flickering image. The bright blue of the Tesseract, Natasha’s voice in his ear.   Screeches, explosions, the Hulk’s roar. 
Stark, you know that’s a one way trip?
 His lungs burned, chest too tight. Fingers grasped to hold something, anything, nails caught on broken concrete and stung. He fell.  Might as well . He fell and fell, gravity’s pull cruel and unyielding as the galaxy burned before his eyes. The armor weighed him down, a coffin made by his own hands as his eyes closed.  Stark . He felt cold, body shuddering in the strange small space he was in. Ice clutched at his limbs again, clawed up his muscles. His fingers were getting crushed, and the rest of him soon would follow. “...Stark.” A voice cut through the hiss in his ears, his vision tunnel-like and focused on snow sky grey. “ Breathe.”  There was something warm in his chest, the reactor burning up perhaps, but it was impossible, it couldn’t. The warmth pressed in and onto him, forced his lungs to fold in then expand. “Breathe.” He finally did, choked on grime filled air and the ruined world came crashing back. But this time he knew, he understood. His fingers curled around smooth metal, as he tried to focus everything on the warm weight. Barnes. Barnes’ flesh hand, flat and large, over both of Tony’s hearts.  They were stranded, alone in a destroyed world, with Barnes the only barrier between him and what he knew was out there. He knew what went wrong with the world. “Chitauri,” he rasped, feeling the cold of the wall seep under his clothes. Barnes blinked, brows furrowing, those bright eyes of his shining with the dim light from the reactor.  “Oh god, this is a world run by the Chitauri.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Tony didn’t know how much time had passed since he fell quiet. There was no way he could measure that, not with the way reality seemed too big to handle still . He barely managed to wonder what was going on in Barnes’ mind.
 
The man hadn’t said a word as Tony talked, in starts and stops, about New York and Nordic gods. About the Avengers and aliens and portals. His breath caught and his shoulders hunched when he spoke of the nuke, of the vast, endless expanse of space.  Hadn’t made even one comment when Tony finally stopped talking and focused on catching his breath.
 
Barnes never even held his gaze, nor tried to catch it - not that Tony could look at him when he talked. He simply shuffled closer, pressed in, knee to knee and hip to hip.
 
He was surprisingly warm, Tony thought suddenly.  
 
Warm and big, a long, bulky line of licking heat along Tony’s side.
 
And somehow, in that small space between a crumbled wall and a recovering super-soldier, Tony felt a wave of both anger and gratitude.  
 
He didn’t expect this, didn’t need this. Not Barnes up so close and personal. He didn’t want Barnes to cause a shiver of fear to crawl down his spine, thank you very much. Didn’t need

pity

, not from him, he had no right.
 
And yet, with Barnes’ body bracketing him, acting like a barrier between Tony and this new, dark world? It brought a certain sense of comfort, a flicker of gratitude he never expected to feel. It felt like care and Tony didn’t know what to do with it - not when it made no sense, to come right now and from this particular man.
 
“How about some breathing space, Terminator?” he rasped finally, eyes now focused on a fragment of a broken wall in front of him.
 
“Sure,” Barnes agreed easily, turning halfway to finally face Tony properly, “as soon as you’re ready to let go.”
 
Tony blinked, looked up only to see a half-smile on the other’s face. Clearly amused, even if not directed at Tony, per se. No, Barnes was looking at something between them and it took an embarrassingly long moment for Tony to gather his wits.
 
He felt warmth creep up his neck, skim along his jaw and settle, bright and furious, in his cheeks.
 
His fingers were still tightly wound around Barnes’ metal ones, holding on so tight he suddenly felt the strain in his knuckles. Well. There was no way to come out of this without losing his dignity any more than he already had.
 
He let go as if burned, twisting his fingers into the sleeves of his overshirt. “Sorry,” Tony mumbled and it took everything not to bang the back of his head repeatedly against the wall.
 
Barnes just shrugged, unphased as ever, and moved away an inch or two.
 
After a few minutes of containing his urge to twitch, Tony took a deep, deep breath.
 
“Alright. Alright.” He ran a hand through his hair during an excessively long exhale. “Focus, dammit. World in ruin. Chitauri. Seemingly no other people except me and Sergeant Freezy Pop.”
 
“Who’s right here still, thank you.”
 
There was a bit of humor in Barnes’ voice Tony did not expect - very few were tolerant of the nicknames. Which, fair, considering they bordered on ridiculous and sometimes even slightly offensive. So to hear a lilt of amusement? It caused Tony to look at the man at his side again, blinking slowly as if trying to figure out where the deception lay.
 
Barnes returned the look steadily,  his gaze open and tinged with a hint of curiosity.
 
His hair was still a mess, framing his face. There was an already healing scratch on his cheek from where he’d landed - in a similar fashion to Tony it seemed, face first into the ground. His eyes were bright, however, seemingly catching the dimmed light from the arc reactor. His body was relaxed, his shoulder lowered. He was either the world’s greatest bullshitter or he was just that adaptable.
 
Barnes woke up in another world too, with Tony as his seemingly only companion. Unlike Tony, however, he was calm, collected and yes, that was no mistake, he was clearly amused. It was admirable, really, and a just the tiniest bit infuriating.
 
“Oh, believe me, your presence is hard to miss,” Tony said finally, probably with a little more bite than the situation called for. But he was made uncomfortably aware of how long was he looking, how long exactly Barnes

let

him. Tony didn’t have the best record with any of the super-soldiers in his life lately, the brainwashed-and-rewired-back-together-again kind especially, so falling back to well-loved sarcasm seemed like the best way to go.
 
The safest way to go, really.
 
He pushed himself up and took a peek through one of the holes in the nearest wall. Just because they couldn’t hear the Leviathan anymore, it definitely didn’t mean it wasn’t hovering somewhere close enough to pick up on their presence. That would be anti-climatic, Tony thought as he huffed in bitter amusement. Hop worlds only to end up as Leviathan chow. But the beast was far, far away, seemingly swimming through the sky in the direction of the skyscrapers.
 
“So how long’ve you been here?” Barnes asked suddenly and Tony barely managed to keep himself from flinching.
 
It was unnerving how perfectly silent Barnes could get - up until the moment he spoke, the man was a goddamn ghost, silent and blending with the shadows all around. Tony shrugged, aiming to keep it casual no matter how unnerving Barnes’ abilities were.
 
“No idea. Two, three hours?” He stared at his knuckles and bleeding fingers, then wiggled them at him. “Rocks and ruins out there as far as I saw.”
 
“No animals?”
 
Ah. The Winter Soldier in survival mode, Tony could get behind that. That was the man who kept under the radar for two years and made himself a home in the middle of Europe. Before he was forced to make a public debut at least.
 
“None.” He sighed again, heard his companion annoyed huff. “And before you ask, I saw no plants or water either. “
 
Barnes had his brows furrowed, that previous warm amusement all gone and replaced with cold calculation.
 
“How long have

you

been here?” Tony felt the need to finally ask, the one thing he probably should have asked in the very beginning.
 
He’d undergone quite a trek really, between the ruins of what was once a grand city. The remains of constructions, the twisted metal of signs and lampposts were covered with a thick layer of grime, the letters illegible. He’d found Barnes unconscious in the middle of it all after a long time.
 
“No, not long.” Barnes shook his head. “Woke up a couple of minutes before you found me. Heard some shuffling and decided to wait, just in case.”
 
Tony didn’t even try to stop the bark of laughter at that, the image of Barnes laying face-down amongst rubble popping back in his mind immediately. The look he gave Tony was so judgmental that he kept on laughing, even if he did try to smother it with his sleeve.
 
“You literally

played dead

, oh my God that is ridiculous,” he finally wheezed, the look in Barnes’ becoming more and more unimpressed with every minute.
 
“You done? Can we go and go explore now?”
 
It felt odd to smile at Barnes like that, so wide he felt his cheeks ache. Good, still, but odd nonetheless.  A secondary hysterical reaction perhaps, Tony mused, slowly calming down. Had to be that.
 
“Sure, Robodog, sure.” He made a scene of wiping at his eyes. “Alright big guy, show me what you got.”
 
Still, the smile wouldn’t falter, even as Barnes shook his head. Tony couldn’t care less for his disappointment - Barnes never pinged that high on his map - but all things considered, cooperation seemed like the way to go right now.
 
“We need to find some resources,” Barnes said, climbing up the hole back to the roof. “Alright,  Stark, let's take a look around.”
 
Then, as if they did this sort of thing on a daily basis, he leaned towards Tony, his hand outstretched. Waited, his eyes calm and certain.
 
Tony could easily scale up, hoist himself up the same way Barnes did. Could brush away that metal hand, as if offended. He recognized the gesture for what it was, however - a truce.
 
He reached out, curled his fingers around Barnes’ wrist, and nodded.
 
---

Barnes was unsurprisingly good at keeping Tony alive.
 
It was annoying, really, how good he actually was. He kept reminding Tony to slow down; to keep his movements to a bare minimum. He chose the paths that required the least effort to move along. His numberless pockets contained not only small blades, but several bars of oatmeal and dried fruit, and isotonic gels as well.
 
He was disturbingly well prepared and there could only be one reason for it.
 
It was a heavy thing to realize that Barnes was constantly ready to go, to run. To move away and disappear.
 
Despite the pardons.
 
Despite being recognized as a war hero, as a prisoner of war.
 
Despite being instated as an official Avenger.
 
Tony didn’t feel comfortable with the sudden realization, didn’t really know what to do with the knowledge. Not that it had any worth in this world - Barnes couldn’t exactly go on a run here. He was stuck with Tony, his one and only chance of getting back; of course, he would choose to help Tony.
 
In the end, Tony did the only thing he could do.
 
He ignored that knowledge and pushed forward.
 
And so, he focused solely on matching his pace to Barnes’ slow one - despite feeling like breaking into a run God knows where. They barely talked, not that Barnes was the biggest conversationalist, to begin with. But it was to conserve energy and avoid any unnecessary noise, avoid detection at any cost.
 
During one of their stops, when they finally shared one of those bars between them, Tony wondered if Barnes realized in full how much deep shit they were in.
 
The mere thought of Chitauri running this world made Tony’s stomach turn and twist.
 
Knowing what crawled around these ruins - what was the sole reason for these ruins - suddenly made the ruins not only seem familiar. Because they

were

familiar. With the tiniest effort, he could see the remains of that tiny little bakery Happy was so fond of and the off the block antique shop Pepper used to frequent.
 
Whatever timeline they were in now, New York clearly didn’t survive the Chitauri invasion.
 
The phantom weight of the nuke caused bile to rise in the back of his throat.
 
“We need shelter.” Barnes’ voice was rough and low, a sudden break of the silence between them. “To rest up. Sleep.”
 
Tony snorted, the crumbs spilling into his lap. Sleep eluded him on a good day; there was no way he’d ever fall asleep here and now. But finding shelter was a good idea, reasonable.
 
He may have not like Barnes, but he could easily trust his will to survive.
 
“Sure,” he agreed easily and could practically feel the slow way Barnes’ brows rose. “Let's just find the nearest hotel ruin and check in to the top floor, that’s where they keep the good stuff. Minibars, wifi and all the room service you can imagine. Perhaps we’ll be lucky and they’ll have maids wearing those fluffy tiny aprons.”
 
“If that’s your thing Stark, go ahead.”
 
“What, saying no to cute maids? Where did that famous Bucky charm go?” He was goading, poking at things that were not his to poke.
 
But Barnes was stoic, unphased, inhumanly so, and Tony felt way out of his league. He knew how to deal with a blast from the past with temper issues and a quick mouth, and Barnes seemed to have neither.
 
“Probably got washed down the drain at some forsaken HYDRA base.”  Barnes shrugged and looked up at the sky, which seemed to grow darker with every passing moment. Completely and totally chill, as if he hadn’t just knocked all air out of Tony's breath. “Those flying things, how did you call ‘em?”
 
It took a moment for his words to register and when they did, Tony’s jaw fell open. “Did-did you just make a HYDRA joke?”
 
Barnes turned to him, one brow raised in a definitely mocking manner.  “Why, are you the only one allowed?”
 
Oh no. No, no. He was not allowed to get snarky with Tony of all people. Snark led to fondness and this was

not

the time to feel fond over anything or anyone.
 
“Huh.” Tony stared, for much longer than necessary. “Well, they missed that detail at the Smithsonian.”
 
“Believe me,” Bucky grumbled, suddenly looking all sorts of offended, “they missed way more than that. Anyway, Stark. The flying things?”
 
Right.
 
“Uh, Leviathans. Flying fortresses, if you will.”
 
“Yeah, those. I’m not risking sleeping somewhere where they can hit us. We’re not taking the high ground.”
 
“And lemme guess,” Tony snorted, “you have already planned what kind of ground we are taking.”
 
The look Barnes gave him could wither grass and Tony was, truth be told, quite impressed. He almost felt ashamed for the continuous poking. Almost.
 
He never claimed to have healthy coping mechanisms.
 
“They used to call the sewer system an engineering marvel back in the late thirties when they were building a Trunk and the Storm Sewers,” Barnes said quietly after a while. “I may have been out of commission for most of the time between then and now, but I’m guessin’ it’s still huge.”
 
“Over six thousand and six hundred miles of mains and pipes,” Tony said almost automatically and then straightened his back, “spanning under the whole of the city, yeah, with different sewers for waste and stormwater separately. Hell, there are huge structural variations even between different parts of the same system, going deep down under the ground, yes, of course. We can use that. Come on, let's find us a manhole.”  
 
Easier said than done, really.
 
Tony never imagined how much effort it would take, finding one manhole among all the rubble. It took them long enough to warrant ripping into one of those gels - half for each, again - before they picked up their search. Whenever they stumbled into roads that seemed more intact than others, they kept their eyes on the ground, looking for the metal covers. Almost all of them were damaged, melted and fused together with the asphalt that surrounded them. No amount of cursing and trying did anything, except causing their fingers to bleed.
 
When they finally stumbled upon one only half damaged, with several steam holes still intact, Tony felt like he could cry from happiness.
 
There was something aesthetically pleasing about the way Barnes hooked his metal fingers in the holes, ripping off the cover that would lead them into the sewers with no real effort.
 
The air coming from beneath the ground seemed to smell of dampness, so Tony hoped they could find a water source underneath the surface.
 
They could definitely spend the night down there, huddled up in some corner and this was in no way a scenario Tony would ever think of. That was if he went crazy enough to even consider spending a night with Barnes under any possible circumstances in the first place.
 
“Yes, yes, well done,” Tony said, finally taking a peek down the hole and shaking his head as darkness stared right back at him. “So, uh, you think this is gonna come back and bite us in the ass, as well?”
 
“Yup.”
 
Tony sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. Fucking hell.
 
“Awesome. Just, awesome. No offense Robocop, you did a splendid job, ten outta ten, it’s just that you agreeing with me makes me a little bit nervous. Wouldn’t think there’d ever come a time for that.”
 
“Wish I had a flashlight.” Barnes ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. “Doubt there are any lamps down there.”
 
“Fair point.” Tony bit his lip lightly, hummed under his breath as he considered his options, “Maybe not exactly a flashlight, but we have a light source.”
 
Barnes, to his credit, didn’t say anything even if his eyes snapped immediately to the arc reactor in the middle of Tony’s chest. For a moment a myriad of emotions washed over his face, each leaving Tony more and more surprised before they all closed off and he was left looking at the patented Barnes’ face of politeness.
 
Without saying anything - this was not the time - he tapped the reactor once. Its light was dimmed a bit his shirt, but enough to permeate the dark with its glow. It hit Barnes’ eyes as well, lit them up all neon like in shadow of his hair.
 
“After you, then,” Barnes said after a while, his brows furrowed slightly even as he pointed at the open hole with his hand.
 
“Yeah sure. Buckle up Alice, down the rabbit hole we go.”
 
---
 
They found shelter under the ground as they had hoped for.
 
It was on a higher level than the steady flow of water, dry and dark. There were no signs that the Chituari had been there, no signs of the destruction that they saw topside. The walls were sturdy, the corridors only nicked by time and nothing else.
 
Gave a sense of security in a world that offered none.  
 
They spent the night there, huddled as close as it was possible for the two of them. Despite his earlier worries, despite the unfamiliar surroundings and Barnes at his side, Tony fell asleep as soon as he curled himself into a corner.
 
It was to be expected, he supposed, after the day they both had. After an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s back.
 
In a way, Tony should have also expected to wake up with Barnes’ metal hand laying over his own; a smooth, comforting weight. He should’ve expected that Barnes would be the one to wake him actually, a short snap of his name. His body half bracketing Tony’s, a large tense mass of a human wall.
 
He never expected to wake to torches and handcrafted spears pointed at them both, wielded by five men in ragged clothes and with a storm in their eyes.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The invasion happened a hundred and four years ago. Long enough for the details and humanity itself to almost fade to nothing, but not long enough for the memory of the Avengers’ futile attempts to be lost forever.
 
Loki still happened. The whole invasion still happened.
 
The Avengers assembled, took up arms and decided to protect New York and humanity in one desperate, futile effort. Steve, and Natasha, and Bruce, and Clint, and Thor… and Tony, too. They fought as one against an alien force, the mighty heroes that answered the call.
 
But that was where the similarities ended.
 
Because Steve didn’t manage to outrun a Leviathan and then he was gone in a snap of powerful jaws. And because of that, the Black Widow failed to keep the portal open long enough for Tony to carry the nuke there.
 
He still fell from the skies, but a restrained Hulk didn’t have a chance to catch him - the Iron Man suit became both a dead weight and a death sentence. The explosion wiped the city and Chitauri that fell down took care of the miserable rest that remained.
 
They took over New York first, then moved from city to city - like locusts, they spread and destroyed and left nothing behind.
 
Humanity resisted at first, despite the deaths of their defenders.  Tried desperately and valiantly, only to fall man by man, woman by woman. In less than half a year, Earth became a nearly barren wasteland, the meager remains of its population hiding away where they could.
 
They moved underground, took to the sewers and the half-destroyed subway stations, dug further into the ground. They made their homes between crumbled rock and burned out steel. They gathered rainwater and scavenged bits of what the world used to be.
 
Humanity survived, just barely, reduced to becoming rats in a world where once they were kings.
 
Tony listened, rope biting into his wrists, his eyes glued to the man they were brought to. Jax, he introduced himself as. He had an imposing stature, broad-shouldered and strong-armed; a long scar ran his face, pulling at one corner of his mouth and curling it into a permanent smirk. He had bright, clever eyes - golden, Tony’s mind supplied, and he couldn’t think of anything else -  and a beard that looked like it was kept with a pair of gardening scissors.
 
Once he was done, Jax sighed, rubbed a hand over his face and ordered his men to untie the ropes binding their hands together.
 
“Thanks,” Tony muttered, rubbing at his wrists to get the blood flowing. The rope didn’t manage to break the skin, but the red line was still perfectly visible in the dim light. He pressed his thumb in, felt the hurried pulse. He took a deep breath before he threw a look at Barnes, right there at his side.
 
He stood close, way closer than he ever would back home, which was the very first thing off.  And then Tony noticed how Barnes

looked

, with his face all smoothed out and his whole body seeming relaxed, shoulders an easy line. After the ties fell off, he even hooked his thumbs into the loopholes of his belt, a small thankful smile on his lips that made him look years younger.
 
There was not a single trace of the Winter Soldier in the man, he was all

Bucky

right then.  
 
Tony blinked, taken by surprise - he never realized how good of a bullshitter Barnes was. Tony could almost hear Howard’s voice echo around in his head, with the scarce complement of how swell Bucky was and how Steve loved him, the poor fella they sacrificed to the War...
 
The ‘sacrifice’ part didn’t exactly stick, but Tony couldn’t have missed the Steve loving him part if he tried.
 
And he tried.
 
“So,” Jax rumbled and broke his line of depressive thoughts, leaned forward and raised one brow at them. He rubbed his thumbs together, hummed a little in the back of his throat. “Where exactly did you two crawl out from?”

Who are you

. That was the question Tony would expect. Or even what were they doing in the sewers or where they were going. But no, Jax zeroed that bright gaze of his on them and went straight to the point, to poke at the fact that they were strangers in an already strange land.
 
Not that it was hard.
 
Barnes’ arm and Tony’s arc reactor aside, one could tell at first glance they were not from this world. Too clean, too immaculate. Too well kept - with clean hair and clear skin, teeth in perfect condition. They stood out like a sore thumb.
 
Tony let out a sigh, ran a hand through his hair. Barnes stood silently as ever, body angled towards Tony’s. Ready to do what exactly, Tony didn’t know. Didn’t want to think about that right now, because the word

shield

popped into his mind and he did his best to ignore it. Besides, it was pointless, even if a little nice.
 
People were not the threat around here. There were too few of them to be pitted against each other.
 
“I think the best way to explain it, is that we’re another version of this world,” Tony finally said and there was no way of hiding how tired he sounded, how goddamn exhausted he felt. “One… completely unlike this one. Where we survived. If you’re willing to believe it.”
 
“We have been hiding from machines and invaders from the sky longer you have been alive.” Jax grinned, his teeth a flash of white against the thickness of his beard. “We see magic rise from the tower they occupy, calling into the heavens and more of them come every time. So yes. I believe you are from another world. Now, tell me, strange shiny man, what is it that you do?”
 
He swore the sound Barnes made was a bitten off snort and the urge to kick him in the shin was almost overwhelming.
 
“This applies to you too, machine man.” Jax’s eyes slid to Barnes, moved down his metal arm. “Perhaps even more so. Machines are not to be trusted.”
 
Barnes nodded, then slowly raised his left hand. The vibranium glistened even in the dull light of the sewers, the men surrounding them murmuring amongst each other.
 
“Despite having this, I am not a machine. Neither of us are.” He chanced a longer look at Tony. He seemed to weigh something inside his own head, before he turned back to Jax. “Neither of us asked for this.”
 
“And what do you do then? With your unwanted machine parts?”
 
“I fight.” Barnes said like it was the natural thing in the world, like Tony wasn’t about to burst up with hysterical laughter.
 
Oh good lord, the easy way he said it? That half-stopped shrug? Barnes may have underwent hours upon hours of therapy and BARF sessions, and yet he

still

considered himself a weapon to be pointed.
 
Not the time for that revelation, he told himself and looked at Jax again. Offered him his best million dollar smile, all teeth and no warmth.
 
“I’m a mechanic,” he spoke up, surprised to hear his voice unwavering. “I build things. I fix them.”
 
There was a murmur again, interest in its pitch, and Tony felt everyone’s attention shift to him.
 
Jax’s eyes sharpened, his thumb and forefinger stroking his beard in thought. “Build and fix, you say? Forgive me for not exactly believing that.” He smiled, almost kindly but Tony felt irritation shoot up his spine. “You don’t really look the part. Hard to imagine you can build anything at all.”
 
Before he had a chance to open his mouth even, he heard the telltale whirring of gears as the panels in Barnes’ arm moved and shifted. His eyes snapped to the smooth way the metal moved, his fingers twitching in reflex.
 
“He built this, for example.” Barnes spoke, looking Tony straight in the eye and simultaneously pulling the rug from underneath his feet. His wrist rotated, the panel within opening and closing, a lone blade concealed within. “And this is one of his least impressive works.”

He knows

, Tony’s brain supplies stupidly, because it is rather obvious, but still it decides Tony needs to be painfully aware of the fact.
 
Barnes fucking knows Tony made his arm.
 
“Excuse you, what are you calling least impressive,” he managed out a scoff, as he folded his arms over his chest. Barnes’ lips twitch slightly as if he’s doing exactly what the other man wanted. Two can play that game, he thinks.  “That is state of art technology, you heathen. Be glad you’re not prancing around with some glitchy shit of Hammer Tech. Hell, I work my ass off and that is the thanks I get?”
 
He doesn’t want Barnes’ gratitude of course - he didn’t do it for recognition of course - but Jax is listening intently and Tony can see the moment where he sees them as assets instead of problems.
 
They live in sewers for God’s sake, he doesn’t understand why the man didn’t jump in on the opportunity of having two extra pairs of hands to work with this place.
 
Right, machine parts.
 
A little paranoia was understandable in this world.

“Nico, we still have some living quarters at the end of the east tunnel,” Jax finally said to a young man near to them, coming up and offering Tony his hand. “We welcome you in our home. We could use the both of you around here, it seems.”
 
Of course they fucking could.
 
---
 
Tony’s slight annoyance didn’t hold up too long, pushed out by the onslaught of everything else.

Man from the stories,

the inhabitants of the sewers whispered as he walked by, children skittering away as if he could burn them with his mere presence.

The man who fell,

someone sneered when they were shown their quarters. They were small and dark, quite a walk away from the main section of the sewers.  Whether it was a sign of either goodwill or disdain on Jax’s part, Tony didn’t know. Didn’t care.
 
Jax’s words echoed in his mind, a treacherous whisper over and over again. He flew and he failed and he fell.

And with him, doom fell upon mankind. So this was his legacy. Merchant of Death and Iron Man both. This time, however, he didn’t even leave corpses behind, only dust and fire and a world up for the taking.
 
Tony nodded to the sentries who escorted them, managed to hold up until Barnes closed the hatch-like door.  Inside he saw two cots, rickety and more metal than cloth, a bucket in the corner and an old crate that served as a tiny drawer.
 
He barely made it to one of the cots before his knees seemingly gave up under him and he sat down heavily. His fingers curled around the cold, rusty metal of the frame, biting into the inside of his palms.
 
“Fuck,” he hissed, feeling that all too familiar clench inside of his chest.
 
“Stark,” Barnes said, and his metal hand was on one of Tony’s knees. “Stark, come on. This shit ain’t good for ya, you know you gotta breathe.”
 
It was not funny and yet it made him bark out a laugh, draw in much needed air. It tasted stale and damp, rolled thick on his tongue. Barnes gave his knee an awkward pat before he sat down on his own cot, their legs brushing.
 
Less than twenty-four hours and Barnes managed to get him down from a full blown panic attack and steer him away from one flaring up.
 
God, Tony was exhausted by all of this. He would gladly collapse and sleep for the rest of the year, even if the cot he was on looked about as inviting as the floor. Perhaps even slightly less so.
 
“So,” Tony finally broke the silence between them, eyes glued on the dirty concrete between their feet. “How long did you know about the arm?”
 
His sneakers wouldn’t last long in this world, unlike the sturdy boots Barnes wore. He might have to figure out a sensible pair of footwear soon.
 
“Ever since I saw it.” Barnes sighed, leaning back against the wall. “You said so yourself. You fix broken things.”
 
“You’re not a thing, Barnes,” Tony protested before he thought that he should’ve probably argued against the idea that he was the arm’s builder.  
 
Barnes shot him a grin, obviously pleased as a punch and Tony, well, Tony really didn’t know what to do with that. He gave little to no thought to Barnes when they were back home, stubbornly avoiding any interaction. He didn’t know what to expect and he was aware of that, but this… this was something else entirely.
 
“No, but the arm is.” Barnes wiggled his fingers and made a little thoughtful sound. “You gave me back the same kind of weapon I used against you. The one you broke.”
 
Oh hell no, no, Tony was not about to have a heart-to-heart with Barnes, not now, not ever. He was

not

, dammit.
 
“We’re not talking about it,” he snapped, raised his head and stared the man down.
 
Barnes just shrugged. “If you want,” he agreed easily, then nudged Tony’s shin with one foot.  “After all, it’s not like we’ll be sharing close living quarters for who knows how long.”
 
Oh good lord, logic. Fucking logic.
 
“It’s not going to be a problem, trust me,” he said firmly, straightening his shoulders. “We’ve already proved we can work well together without even talking to each other. This is no different.”
 
That finally got Barnes’ face to darken and yes, that was what Tony wanted. That, he could work with, even if they would be stuck in the same room for days to come.
 
Tony didn’t even manage to

think

about the lost half of his soul, not to mention a plan of getting it back.
 
“Fine.” Barnes nodded then and Tony could see every second of him putting his emotions under control. He held Tony’s gaze for long while, way longer than strictly necessary. “It doesn’t change the fact that I

know.

”
 
No, it didn’t, Tony thought.
 
But it didn’t matter either way. Not right now.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The community was neatly organized.
 
Whoever laid the bases for them, Jax took them to a new level. They managed to grow - scarce as they were - herbs and vegetables. They created rain catchers in the spaces where the metal bars of the drainage grates allowed rain and light to filter through.

The healthiest, fittest men and women were drafted into scavenger teams. They would leave the safety of the sewers when their supplies ran low; they brought in parts of old tech, sometimes finding toys for the kids or still-intact blankets, even hygiene products for the women. Tony was pleasantly surprised to hear about the fact. Apparently, while the center of New York remained a sea of ruins, the suburbs and the houses there remained mostly intact.
 
The fact that the Chitauri were everywhere made things so much harder.
 
They didn’t have that many people to spare. The scavenging teams were small, two or three volunteers; the smaller the numbers, the higher the chances of not being detected when they crawled out of the sewers.
 
Barnes joined immediately, got paired up with Nico in a one on one team. It was the most obvious choice where Barnes could help out.
 
It didn’t make any sense why Tony felt a cold ball of dread whenever he thought about it. Well, maybe a little sense.
 
Strangers or no, Barnes was from his world. Was his one and only connection.
 
Their main smithy and engineer in one was a young woman named Octavia. There were two others, both bright-eyed and sharp-witted, but Octavia was in charge according to Jax.
 
From the way they introduced her, she was brilliant, a real firecracker with a self-made torch and an old wrench. Schools were non-existent by then, but the scavenger teams would sometimes bring back whatever books, in whatever condition, they stumbled upon and Octavia

devoured

them all.
 
She was all raw talent and the barest of basic knowledge, and yet, at the still tender age of 22 years,  she was the sole reason all of their systems ran without a glitch. Tony had a good feeling about her from the moment Jax explained how the first thing she did was to enhance their water supply system.
 
She took to Tony calling her O like a fish to water.
 
“Heard you can build things,” she said to him the moment Tony walked into the secluded part of the sewer that almost deserved the name of a workshop.  She pulled off a pair of old goggles, the gesture making a few strands of her hair stand up.
 
For the first time in the last two days, Tony felt at home.
 
There was a half-destroyed table in one corner and two rickety, small metal ones on wheels. A battered tool case in one of the corners, several books piled on top of it.
 
“Yeah,” Tony breathed out, a pair of
spring lever needle-nose pliers catching his attention. The weight was familiar in his hand, comforting. “And I heard you’re the one keeping this place running, kiddo. So, hit me. What exactly are we dealing with here?”
 
---
 
“You know that- that you don’t have to do it,” Tony said on the second or third night, watching the man out of the corner of one eye as he prepared for sleep. Which didn’t mean much, just rubbing some clean cloth over his teeth - God, he missed flossing already - and ignoring the growing scratchiness of his skin.
 
Showers were a rare luxury, understandably, and no one paid attention to the smell of sweat and dust everywhere. But Tony felt it clog up his nose every time he breathed in. That, too, might take a while to get used to, he thought, but then again - he did survive those horrendous three months in Afghanistan.
 
He was also sure Barnes knew pretty well that Tony was constantly watching him. The fact that he hadn’t really commented on that came as a surprise. He either had the world’s most perfect poker face - probable - or didn’t really give a damn, which was also highly probable.
 
Barnes looked up at him from where he was cleaning his boots, the surprise on his face evident. Tony couldn’t really blame him. The last two days held more conversations than they’d ever had back in their own time, but ever since they’d gotten settled in? Well. Things were more on the quiet side and Tony knew it was mostly his doing.
 
To be fair, Tony also had a funny feeling that the silence was mostly awkward on his end - Barnes seemed to settle into it quite nicely. In fact, he seemed so much more relaxed, compared to whenever Tony saw him back at the Compound, that it actually managed to short-circuit Tony’s brain a little when he realized it.
 
“I know,” Barnes said after a while, head tilted to one side in curiosity. There was a strand of hair that fell into his eyes and he blew at it before Tony felt the irrational urge to push it back. “What surprises me is that you do.”
 
Tony held back his reply and settled in for the night.
 
He turned his back to Barnes, wound his arms around his frame and told himself that he imagined the amused huff.
 
---
 
They started talking after Barnes came back from the first excursion.
 
Maybe Tony was being a little bit overly optimistic because it was more of a word by word exchange than regular conversations, but it still counted. There were words. More than one at a time.
 
Because Barnes literally murder walked into the workshop, dirty with grime and sweat. The sight of him sparked all of the memories from Berlin for a second, but before Tony could even react, he had his hands full with a utility belt.
 
A properly equipped utility belt.
 
The silence that followed was deafening, until O made a strangled sound, blurted out some lame excuse about being required somewhere else, and literally ran out of her own workshop.
 
Tony stared at the belt for a long, long moment; the leather was old and worn, but the tools needed minimal cleaning. Obviously it was well taken care of in a previous lifetime, and his fingers itched to put them all to good use. He looked up, blinked at the man in front of him and felt something odd unfurl inside of him.
 
“What’cha waiting for?” Barnes’ voice was an amused rumble, going rather well with the pleased as punch smile on his face. “G’on, put it on.”
 
“Why- why would you bring this back?” They were supposed to find more materials for expanding the living quarters. Wood, blankets, and covers, maybe find some intact baby beds they could bring back to the sewer.
 
Barnes grinned then - an old, charming, black and white 40’s smile - and he took the belt away from Tony.
 
He took a step forward, stepped into Tony’s personal bubble; reached around him, and then the belt was a grounding weight around Tony’s hips, the leather melding perfectly against his sides and lower back. He did a quick job with the buckle and loops, clearly ignorant of Tony’s wide eyes and stiff posture.
 
Fucking rude, that’s what he was.
 
“There. Much better.”
 
Tony hoped his look conveyed what he felt - absolute surprise and a little bit of offense because really, did he look like he was unable to that himself?
 
He crossed his arms, pushed the memory of Rhodey comparing him to a frazzled chicken out of his mind.
 
“Was that really necessary?”
 
Barnes had the audacity to grin down at him (down!), flicking one of the pockets before he put some space between them again.
 
“Well you seemed at a loss what to do with it,” he drawled and yup, he looked smug as a cat that got the cream and the canary both. “Decided to fix that for ya. Some mechanic you are, if you ask me.”
 
Asshole.
 
“Get out of my workshop.”
 
A blink of those winter pale eyes, all innocent and fake. “I thought it was O’s?”
 
Tony threw a dirty rag at him that day, unable to keep from laughing when Barnes didn’t catch it and

let it

hit him straight in the face.
 
---
 
It was inevitable, to start getting to know one another.
 
Aside from the instances where Barnes went out with the other scavengers, he usually hung around any place where Tony could be found. He’d come to lounge around the workshop quite a lot, his sheer strength and size a considerable asset whenever Tony and O were putting something grander together.
 
At first, Tony thought he could hold onto that cold indifference he had sustained back home.
 
But it was near impossible. Not when Barnes was his only link to their world and not when Tony had gotten a first-row glimpse of what was underneath the pleasant, cool facade.
 
Truth was, James Buchanan Barnes was a grade-A asshole.
 
He was snarky in a way Tony could - and always would - appreciate, in a way that made it harder and harder not to grin at wry comments and perfectly deadpan replies.   Octavia never said a word; just grinned at Tony every now and then as they snarked back and forth for what seemed to be hours to no end.
 
It was refreshing in a way Tony never expected. Not from Barnes, of all people.
 
“You know you don’t have to be that careful with your boy,” O said one late afternoon, on a rare occasion where it was only the two of them.
 
Tony hummed, nodded absentmindedly as he used the wrench to tighten the screws on the upgraded water filter.  For the week, he and Octavia were working their way through every element. Then his grip slipped, the wrench pinching painfully.
 
“I- with my what now?” He stared at her, feeling like he missed a sentence or a whole conversation because what she said made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
 
“James.” She pointed to the doorway and Tony turned, expecting the man to be there, but no, no one was there.
 
Which could only mean O went and drew up the most ridiculous conclusions possible.
 
“You think me and Barnes…?” He made a gesture with the wrench, just to be certain that she was saying what he was thinking she was, and O grinned that infuriatingly smug smirk. “Are you insane?”
 
“I mean, come on Tony, the world went down in flames over a hundred years ago, you really think anyone gives a shit about some dicking going on?”
 
“One, please never use that word again where I can hear it,” Tony told her, faking a full-body shudder, “and two, there is absolutely none of that going on.”
 
“Oh come on, old man,” she cooed and Tony had never felt the urge to smother someone with an oil-soaked rag more strongly. “You can be honest with me.”
 
Tony snorted, not even deigning that with an answer. The whole assumption was preposterous to say the least. How to explain that, yeah, they were pretty friendly with each other whenever she was around, but silent when she was not? That quiet was the dominating factor when it came to the two of them?
 
God, kids where the same at any time and in every reality, it seemed. He should probably start checking the books the scavengers brought back; maybe someone brought in some cheap romance for shits and giggles.
 
“Just sayin’ Tony,” O said after a while of silence, fingers lightning-fast on what Tony was almost sure was an old car engine. “If there’s nothing, it’s an awful lot of time he chooses to be where you are when he’s got half the community ready to follow him.”
 
Tony shrugged, wiped his hands clean.
 
Ignored the implication, because what did being stuck in different reality mean when compared to the end of the line after all…?
 
---
 
Tony never brought up the subject and Octavia seemed to have gotten the clue not to do so ever again.
 
Not that there was anything to talk about.
 
He and Barnes were just that - him and Barnes, stuck in a reality that was not their own. Whatever they seemed to be here, they weren’t.  
 
Because while Tony made the decision to allow magic to fuck up his life, Barnes didn’t. He didn’t choose to accompany Tony.
 
It always came down to that, after all.
 
A conscious choice.
 
---
 
It all came to a halt one unremarkable night, their second month or so in.
 
In retrospect, Tony didn’t really know why he decided to open his mouth then and there.
 
Maybe it was the strain of the few past days. Barnes went scrapping for parts and metal a couple more times, each excursion a higher threat than the previous one. The last excursion took longer than usual, and Tony seemed to be alone most of these days.
 
So perhaps it was that?
 
Or perhaps it was the dark, the tiny space they were given to share, or Tony had simply reached his breaking point.
 
No one could blame him, right?
 
Or maybe it was the echo of O’s “he chooses to be where you are” in his head ever since that God-awful day.
 
He didn’t know.
 
He just wanted to get some fucking sleep.
 
Today had been surprisingly good, all things considered - they had accumulated enough water for the showers to start running, and the stew served for dinner even had something resembling a taste that did not come from a roasted rat. The scavenger teams came back safe and whole after the last excursion, their findings this time more in terms of supplies than materials for construction. First aid, clothes and what looked like a fuckton of canned goods.
 
The hydroelectric system was holding up very nicely, generating more power than he and Octavia estimated at first.   
 
There was no reason to break the habit, to disrupt the evening’s quiet between him and Barnes. Tony just needed to close his eyes, take a deep breath and go the fuck to sleep.
 
But the words pushed at his teeth, weighed heavy on his tongue.
 
They wanted to get out and Tony didn’t have the strength anymore to stop them.
 
“I wish someone would choose me,” Tony whispered into the tattered cloth he’d learned to use as a pillow.
 
It didn’t matter how quiet he was. Barnes would have heard him anyway.
 
In the silence between them, they heard Jax giving out commands to the night watch. Above them, a pack of wild dogs roamed, hungry and feral, looking for any source of meat. Every single day and night, those were the noises that accompanied them to sleep. Nothing was truly quiet anymore, not in the way Tony was used to. No beeps and boops, no warm, amused voice from above.  
 
Tony tightened his hold on himself.
 
He missed FRIDAY and his boys something fierce and his heart constricted painfully.
 
“I chose you. I’m here with you,” Barnes muttered after what seemed like hours and Tony couldn’t help but laugh, an ugly sound teetering on the verge of hysterics.
 
Jesus fucking Christ, Howard would have a field day with him right now.
 
“You didn’t choose me,” he said, and the words tasted like ash. “I have no idea why or how you got sucked into this mess, but it was hardly your choice. You’re stuck with me.”
 
The silence that followed was expected. The dip of his cot and the sudden presence of another body hovering just behind him was not.
 
“The fuck are you doing?” Tony hissed, his heart beating so hard it was a wonder it didn’t break through his chest.
 
“No idea, really. Got a good hunch tho.” Barnes slotted himself behind Tony, his body a long solid line of heat that made Tony shudder. How long had it been since he was this close with anyone? To feel the heat of their body, to imagine the touch of someone’s fingers? God, too long. He heard Barnes take a breath and then, “Can I touch you?”
 
“

What

?” Tony turned around, nose bumping into Barnes’. “What?” he rasped out again, body all but frozen because of all the proximity.
 
Barnes was too fucking close.
 
He’d been doing that, every now and then. Pushing in close, crowding Tony in. Never as close as now, however; he was more of a hovering type, rather than invading.
 
That was clearly not the case now. He could feel the heat coming off the super soldier in waves, lapping at his skin despite all of the layers between them. He felt more than saw Barnes raise his hand, and he could almost feel the weight and the smoothness of metal over his skin.
 
“So, can I touch you?” Barnes repeated, breath warm and damp over Tony’s face. He seemed so damn calm and collected Tony kind of wanted to punch him.
 
How dare he sound like that, when Tony felt like he was less than a second from breaking apart?
 
“Why?” Tony hated how his voice came out all wrong, the word more choked out than said. Because yes, he wanted, needed - his body ached with the lack of touch, and how ironic was it that it took a fucking dystopia to learn he was a tactile sort of asshole at all? He missed being held. He missed holding. He missed hugs and shoulder pats and arms around waists. He missed touch in all possible forms and ways he could get it. Still, the drive to understand was stronger than his need for physical contact. “Have you lost your damn mind, Barnes? Why the fuck would you ever want to?”
 
“Because I think you need one hell of a hug right now. And so do I. And because- because I never

wanted

you to be hurt,” Barnes said slowly, somehow shy despite his bold actions. He blinked, appearing almost surprised with himself, and then plowed on, brave like only a soldier could ever be. “Believe me or not, but when Strange explained everything? I didn’t want you to go alone. I was looking at you, ‘cause I always seem to be doing that nowadays, and thinking,

no, please, don’t go alone, don’t make him go alone

. You know how he always goes on an’ on ‘bout magic and will, so-” he trailed off, as if that was all the explanation needed.
 
There was a certain logic to that, as much as logic could be applied to magic. Because will more often than not paid a crucial role in spell-casting, and maybe Barnes was speaking the truth, because he was still

here.

His hand was still raised and hovering above the dip of his waist, and Tony’s whole body vibrated with the urge to lean forward, to curl in.
 
He curbed that urge.
 
“Why?” he asked one more time, stubborn mule that he was.
 
Barnes laughed then, an odd sort of laugh that Tony couldn’t really wrap his mind around. Like disbelief and breathlessness and fondness all wrapped into one startled sound.
 
“‘Why’, he asks. Good Lord,

Tony.

You actually have no idea, do you? How terrifying it is, watching you day by day, when you lay your life on the line every Goddamn moment.” Barnes shook his head, their noses almost rubbing against each other and driving Tony mad. He desperately needed Barnes to stop moving. “See, thing is, that yeah, I hurt you bad in Siberia, ‘cause I wanted to live. I was scared and there was Steve and - I suppose it doesn’t matter now. What does is that I don’t want you to hurt. And I certainly don’t want you dead, Tony.”

Tony.

They weren’t on first name basis. They weren’t on any basis at all, only it wasn’t exactly true anymore, because Tony had learned to trust Barnes. Had learned to know when to turn to see the man behind him, how to listen to the snark and find affection. How to see an eye roll, but hear a laugh.
 
How to find the silences grounding, calming.
 
In this reality, they didn’t have anyone else to rely on. Jax and his people were- they were good people, kind and welcoming as much as this world allowed anyone to be. But Tony and Barnes were literally a whole other world.
 
By the end of the day, they only had each other.
 
He wanted to say something, he really did, but it seemed that something in Barnes had snapped as well, because once he started he couldn’t keep more words from pouring out.
 
“I was never gonna say anythin’, ‘cause I know you’d just take it all wrong, but watching out for you’s not a new thing for me, ya know? Been keepin’ shit off yer back during the fights for a while. Always makin’ sure I got you in my sight. Havin’ your back even if you didn’t need it or wanted it. Stevie thought he got the right to get pissed at me, for that, like he wasn’t an lil’ reckless piece of shit ever since he ‘ere more of a Goddamn twig.”
 
To say that Barnes’ words were confusing was a huge understatement.  Tony could understand each and every single one of them, but together, strung into a sentence, they made no sense.
 
“What?” Tony, in all honesty, couldn’t pinpoint when the last time had been that he’d felt so dumbfounded and utterly lost. When he blinked up at him, Barnes’ eyes were oddly bright in the semi-dark. They caught the reactor’s glow easily, gaining an unearthly glow, and Tony couldn’t stop looking.
 
Feeling high and oddly brave - in a moment of insanity, if Tony was honest - Tony was the one that reached out, fingers grasping at Barnes’ shirt and curling around the worn-out fabric. The gesture seemed to be all the permission Barnes needed, because the next moment, that state-of-the-art arm was wrapped around him tightly, pulling Tony closer.
 
Tony might have made a broken off sound, suddenly encased in soft warmth and hard muscle.

Oh God

.
 
Tony’s cot was hardly a large space, definitely not for him and an enhanced super soldier, but once he was wrapped up in that deliriously warm embrace, nose squished against Barnes’ chest and his heartbeat in Tony’s ears? He found himself unable to complain.
 
It felt so damn good Tony felt it in his Goddamn

bones.

“You’re too Goddamn reckless for your own good, always doing your best even if it can cost you everything,” Barnes murmured, his chin atop Tony’s head a surprisingly comfortable weight. “Even us. Especially us. I live in your house, I use your equipment, your gear, your- fuck, you think I don’t know who’s paying for Trisha?”
 
“It’s…” There surely was a good response to all of this, Tony knew, and yet he couldn’t come up with one. His brain remained stuck, solely focused on releasing endorphins because

Tony was currently being hugged like Barnes was getting paid for it.

“What else can I do?”
 
So much for being a genius.
 
Barnes’ hand pressed between his shoulder blades, holding him close, thumb rubbing a back and forth line between them.
 
“The least I can do is this, keep choosing you,” Barnes muttered, his nose in Tony’s hair by then and it should feel wrong, unpleasant. Instead, Tony felt like he could breathe for the first time in weeks, like the ever-present ache inside of his chest lessened. “Even if you won’t want me to. And not because I owe ya.”
 
“Why then?” Tony asked again, barely a whisper over Barnes’ heart. He could feel its steady thump-thump and he was certain he knew the answer, but still he wanted to hear it.
 
There was no split-second hesitation, no awkward pause. Barnes only pulled away lightly, his hand moving from Tony’s back to cup his face, metal thumb brushing a line over his cheek to get Tony to look at him.
 
When Barnes had the whole of Tony’s attention, he gave him a little smile, barely visible in the dark. It was nothing like the charming grins Tony had seen or the smirks when he was acting particularly assholish.
 
It was a new smile, a private one, and Tony felt like it was all for him and no one else.
 
“Because

I

want to,” Barnes said simply, with a heady kind of conviction, thumb pressing into the apple of Tony’s cheek.
 
Held so close and feeling the warmest he had in forever, Tony took a breath and dared to believe him.
 
He felt his whole body go loose, his forehead pressed to Barnes’ chest.
 
“‘M not calling you Bucky,” he muttered and felt the rumble of the laugh reverberate through him.
 
“James’ more than fine.”
 
---
 
Thirteen days later, Tony kicked their cots together and brought the soldering iron to their room.
 
Fuck what it looked like.
 
He slept better with James wrapped around him than he could remember, after all.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was odd, how at home they made themselves in the destroyed world.
 
How they came up with little habits that made their tiny little room a bit more homey; James always kept it nice and clean, and Tony always tinkered in the evenings to make it better.
 
What begun as an empty space with two miserable cots slowly filled with tattered books and random little trinkets that James brought in from the outside zones. While scavenging was their goal, he and Nico often brought in extra things, like toys in pretty good shape for the kids.
 
The first thing James brought back to their room was an honest to god Avengers poster.  It was one of those faux-retro ones, the paper yellowed and the glass cracked and stained, but the faces were pretty easy to recognize. It was the “original six” - he never knew who had decided to call them that, since Carol was the original one.
 
Every time he looked at it, the feeling of missing a home became more and more palpable.
 
“Why this, of all things?” Tony asked, staring at it one evening as they lay side to side on their backs, shoulders touching.
 
James looked at him, his grin sharp and bright like a crescent moon. “I like imagining Stevie’s face if he ever saw us like this.”
 
Whenever Tony looked at the poster from that moment on, he couldn’t help but imagine it as well.
 
It made the missing a little bit easier.
 
---
 
O and Jax were there to witness Tony’s absolute meltdown when he was presented with a still-sealed jar of Folgers’ instant coffee.
 
He pointedly ignored the fact that O gave Jax a wise-ass grin and he handed over one of his dried food bars with a groan.  
 
Instead he chose to wrap his arms around James, pulling the man into a fierce hug. Fuck what whoever thought.
 
James got Tony coffee.

Coffee

.
 
Tony would build him a whole new world, a hug was barely anything, even if James sort of clung back. Even if it lasted a little longer than strictly necessary.
 
Later, the coffee tasted stale and all kinds of awful and it was the best thing Tony had tasted in a while.
 
Jax making disgusted faces at the taste was the best thing he had seen in a while, as well.
 
---
 
“Ok, you need to work with me here, Pumpkin.” Tony wiped the sweat out of his eyes before he put on the goggles again.
 
“Pumpkin? Ran out of ice cream related jokes already?” James grinned at Tony’s faux annoyed scoff, then rotated his wrist a little. “Look, it seizes up when I do this.” He twisted it more fiercely, cringing slightly at the shot of a neural impulse as the gears ground to a stop.
 
Tony scratched the back of his neck, bit his lip for a second. He could see the wires crisscrossing, one of the miniscule gears shifting out of place.
 
“Shit.”
 
Back home, where they belonged, this would hardly be an issue. It would be a five, ten minute fix tops.
 
But here he lacked the appropriate tools and a bright enough light, not to mention anything that he could use as a pair of magnifying glasses. And the inside of James’ wrist was a delicate thing to navigate, so easy to permanently damage despite how formidable the arm itself was.
 
Tony knew that all too well, after all. He didn’t spend countless sleepless nights hunched over the thing not to know it inside and out, as well as he knew his own suits.
 
He stared at the wirings for a moment, struck by a sudden thought. He closed the panels gently, rotated the wrist manually so the gears would unblock and that look of discomfort slipped away from James’ face.
 
“There’s a lab we’re going to in a couple of days,” James said after a while, strangely  hesitant all of the sudden. As if Tony’s sudden silence unnerved him. “Tell me what you need and I’ll look for it?”
 
Tony blinked, almost startled as he looked up at James. Neither of them seemed too keen on addressing the fact that Tony still held James’ hand gently, fingers brushing ever so slightly over the inside of his wrist. Something seemed to linger in the air between them, something sweet and heavy.
 
Something as uncertain as their continued survival.
 
Tony licked his lips, felt how rough and dried out they were all of the sudden. “How did you know? That it was me? How did you know it wasn’t Shuri?”
 
James looked down, some of his hair falling into his face, but not enough to hide him from Tony and oh, that, -
 
Those were those ever-bright eyes, lingering for a second on Tony’s lips. That was a blush, pretty across the bridge of his nose, ridiculous over the apples of his cheeks.
 
This was the Winter Soldier blushing and Tony’s heart gave a single, odd

thump

before it decided to settle somewhere in the depths of his stomach. It wasn’t exactly an unpleasant sensation, more like a sudden feeling of vertigo for a second and then as if he had downed a cup of Ana’s hot chocolate; all gooey and hot, pooling nicely and warming him from the inside.
 
James muttered something under his breath, looking away fully by then and Tony blinked again, found himself too preoccupied by the strange antics of his own body to focus properly on the mumbled words.
 
“What was that?” On instinct, he rubbed a thumb over the panels of the metal wrist, despite how pointless the gesture was. James could hardly feel any outside sensations - even Wakandan tech couldn’t give him that - but the tiny movement seemed to be enough to calm him down, because his shoulders relaxed and he heaved a sigh.
 
“The plates are the same.” James didn’t exactly look up then, because he was still avoiding Tony’s eyes, but at least he wasn’t staring at the floor or something, more like somewhere in the close vicinity of Tony’s heart. “Yours and mine.”
 
Oh.

Oh

.
 
Without really thinking about it, Tony tapped two fingers over the threadbare shirt, where it stretched across the arc reactor. The nanoparticles covered his right arm and hand, the bold red and gold a stark contrast to James’ smooth black and silver, before Tony stopped them from forming more of the armor.
 
The plates of both his armor and James’ arm were symmetrical. Like mirror images, with their smooth lines and the seamless way the panels were connected.
 
Well, he had worked on Mark L and the arm at the same time, that was true. He constantly remembered the way James looked when the unibeam took care of his arm; how the cables dangled from the destroyed stump. He doubted that image would ever go away.
 
It would be right there with Yinsen dying, Happy in the hospital, Pepper burning bright and deadly, and Rhodey falling. All failures on Tony’s part; but this was was different, because he made the choice to fail.
 
Tony took a breath, gathered his courage and moved his fingers up James’ arm. Slowly, carefully as if he was gaining the trust of a spooked animal, he placed his metal hand on James’ shoulder.
 
Where black metal was fused into skin. He rubbed his thumb there in a little circle, felt his throat tighten as he saw James’ eyes widen, his mouth falling open a little over a surprised sound.
 
“I’m sorry,” Tony’s voice was clogged thick with everything he could never say properly.
 
For all his genius and a mouth he could never keep shut, words could be hard. He could talk circles around anyone, but honesty was hard, honesty was vulnerability and leaving himself open and stripped of defenses. But James didn’t deserve to be Tony’s irrational choice to hurt someone else.
 
And oh, Tony was sorry, in a hundred of ways and none of them could ever be said out loud, because how did he even start apologizing?
 
For blasting him, with no hesitation? For ripping his arm of, for a repulsor blast straight into his back?
 
For not listening to reason? For not taking the time to listen to his

own

damned mind?
 
For trying to kill James, for not thinking and not recognizing him as one last victim of HYDRA?
 
A shudder went through James’ body, so strong Tony could feel it where his hand rested. He made a tiny little aborted move with his head - as if he was about to press his cheek to the back of Tony’s hand - before focusing his eyes on Tony’s heart again.
 
Slowly, so painfully slowly, giving Tony all the options to back away or stop him, James raised his own metal hand and gently, so so gently, he placed it over the reactor.
 
Tony’s heart, as expected, lodged itself in his throat almost immediately, his brain screaming at him as he remembered metal fingers digging around the reactor, sparks flying, head pushed and pushed into a wall.
 
“I’m sorry,” James whispered, somehow both soft and broken. “I, -”
 
“Never want me to hurt,” Tony finished without hesitation, remembering the conviction James spoke with when he first said those words. “But I did, back then. Wanted to hurt you. Wanted Steve to hurt like I was hurting, wanted...” He trailed off miserably, eyes burning as he blinked rapidly.
 
James’ eyes were so damn bright, even in the shitty lights of the ‘shop, when Tony focused on them. Bright and wide, earnest in a way Tony envied. “But we’re here now.”
 
Barely a few weeks ago, Tony would probably have repulse-smacked James straight in his face if he even tried to come close to the reactor.
 
They would never be found sitting so close to each other, they would never be found

near

each other unless a mission briefing called for it.
 
Not that long ago, they wouldn’t be found sleeping in the same room, not to mention in the same bed. Tony wouldn’t feel safe with one metal arm wrapped around him, a super soldier sleeping peacefully and pressed close to him, bodies touching from shoulders to toes. A few weeks ago, Tony wouldn’t press his flesh hand over James’ metal one where it rested on the arc reactor, and James would never smile this brightly, this happily at the simple gesture.
 
And somehow James’ smile brightened the room around, so warm that some of the cold, dead weight Tony felt like he had been dragging around with him since forever seemed to just - melt away.
 
“Yeah,” he breathed out, feeling his own mouth stretch in a relieved smile, swallowing past the fear and a tangle of something that felt like hope. “We’re here now.”
 
---
 
James’ breath was slow and even, metal fingers twitching across Tony’s hip. Usually that was enough to make Tony fall asleep as well - a burning furnace of a super soldier, a sense of safety in an unsafe world, the soft sleepy snuffles that sometimes escaped him.
 
But not this time.
 
Not when Tony kept remembering the way they were at home, back where they belonged, how they had kept their distance. How there were the Accords and the teams and Steve’s pained blue eyes between them.
 
He wondered how much of them right here, in that here they had made for themselves, was due to the circumstances they found himself in. How much of Tony’s craving for James’ touch and quiet, simple affection was caused by the ever-present ache inside of his chest. How much of James’ softness was because he felt like he owed the man, how much of his protection was because of some sort of misguided guilt.
 
Guilt they both shared, shame they both admitted to.
 
He wondered how things would change once they’d go back to their world.
 
Knowing what it felt like - to be the center of James Barnes’ attention like this - was addictive. Tony sighed quietly.  No sense in lying to himself.
 
He shifted a little, causing James to make a small nose of displeasure - he was like a goddamn cuddle bear; once he set in for the night, he’d hold on ‘till dawn - and looked at the poster.
 
Even in the perpetual dark, he could make out the faces of the Avengers.
 
His eyes were drawn to Steve, - no, Captain America, because that who he was in the poster; all strength and command, in a pose that demanded respect and obedience. For a moment he wondered what good ‘ole Cap would say if he indeed saw them like that - tangled in a poor excuse of sheets, Bucky’s face pressed into Tony’s shoulder and metal hand splayed across his stomach. Would he be disappointed? Or what would Thor’s reaction be like? Would he clap Tony’s back with that godly strength of his, his booming laughter bouncing off every nook and cranny? Or would he scoff?
 
Rhodey would probably question his sanity and then sigh, rub his shoulder and remain at Tony’s side as always, no matter what.
 
The sheer chance that he would never find out made Tony’s insides turn cold. He blinked against the ever present dust in the air, scoffed at himself for even thinking that. They were still stuck in an alternative shitstorm of a reality, one they had to find a way out of.  Even if, back home, he and James would most probably go back to Barnes and Stark, they had to.
 
Slowly, gently, so as to not wake James up, Tony rubbed lightly at the spot right above the reactor. The ache he felt within his chest never really went away, but it varied from unpleasant to breathtakingly painful, and physical touch helped.
 
Even if it was his own touch.
 
“I can literally hear you agonizing over something,” James’ voice was a rumble in his ear and Tony flinched so hard he almost threw himself out of the pitiful bed. “Sweet Jesus, Tony, only you can have that much shit going on in your head at this time of night.”
 
“You know this won’t be possible back home,” Tony blurted out, eyes still on the barely visible poster, fingers still pressed into the skin over his sternum. Pressed hard. Too hard. “It won’t.”
 
God know what

this

really was; this soft shaky thing between them.
 
James didn’t say anything for the longest of moments, his breath warm and steady where it soaked through the shirt over Tony’s shoulder. He remained quiet when he took Tony’s hand in his own, twined their fingers over the erratic beat of Tony’s heart.
 
“Sleep,” he murmured, giving Tony’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll worry about that once you get us back.”
 
James was so damn certain.
 
That they’d find a way back home, that Tony would figure it out one way or another.  But what if Tony didn’t?
 
They were here now. And maybe he was in pain and maybe there was no bright future in the long run, no technology and futuristic knick-knacks. Maybe the food was poor and the water was always short. But it was here and now that he and James were like this.

So what, - what if Tony didn’t

want to

…?

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After four months since their arrival, O and Tony finished the new water purifier. It happened once James’ talked Nico into leading three scavenging teams into the Death Zone -place quite a trek away from the most north sewer gates, a place where Chitauri corpses were left. They took whatever remained of alien armors and weapons. Tony and O spent hours to no end, taking them apart, pulling out the smallest power sources and energy crystals and embedding them in the machinery.It took them two weeks and three hunts to finish. On the third run, the teams ran into a Chiaturi team. They lost one man and James’ arm was dead weight at his side upon return, two fingers barely still attached to the hand.  Repairing it with how little he had, Tony couldn’t stop himself from thinking, that maybe, just maybe, remaining holed up in the severs, in the workshop, wasn’t the best way he could help these people.They were making progress, he and O, they really were. The air filters worked better than ever, the hydro-generators were supplying the community with a steady source of power.  Their plans for the heating systems needed just a few more tweaks - hopefully about two more months and they’d present Jax with a perfectly reliable system that would make hot water access a rule, not an exception.But maybe he could do more? Outside of the safe zone. Out there, with James.“I saw how they’re summoning new ones,” James hissed through clenched teeth as the soldering iron dug deep into his elbow, fixing the torn off wires.  “Through your tower.”“It’s not my tower.” Tony muttered around the piece of cable in his teeth, “It’s a ruin.”“Fine, if you wanna get technical about it, Tinkerbell. Through the ruin that was your tower.”It was amazing, short of mindblowing that by then, James could always coax even the tiniest grin out of him. The man was clearly in pain, forehead pearly with sweat and eyes pinched as there was no way for Tony to shut down all neural connections and he still managed to make Tony smile. The nickname helped. It was a new, still fresh thing that James suddenly came up all on his own and whenever he addressed Tony like that, it sent a sweet thrill down his spine. He wasn't sure if James knew what effect his words had, but regardless, he carried on. “They got somethin’ there, somethin’ powerful. Whatever it is, It glows bright blue, sends a ray of light towards the sky and then more of those ugly fuckers come.”Tony cursed under his breath, spat out the cable onto his hand. He cut off the plastic cover, tugged it off to get his hands on the copper wires inside, “Just what we needed today, more Chitauri above our heads.”“It was two days ago, actually, but yeah, your point stands.”The fact that his hand didn’t slip, or that he didn’t twitch? Tony chalked that one up as a regular miracle. He didn’t manage to talk about it with James yet, that two days earlier a flare of pain so strong that he collapsed at the foot of the bed had left him writhing on the dirty floor and biting on one of their shirts not to scream. Tony couldn’t tell how long it lasted. It felt as if someone reached inside of his chest, wrapped a cold hand around his heart and lungs both and tried to rip them out. He only knew it was long enough for his nails to be bloodied and chipped from clawing the concrete floor.He threw a look at James, at his knitted brows and the quickly healing bruise on the top of one cheekbone.The words lodged themselves into his throat, so bitter he could taste them. Tony swallowed around them and said nothing. --- “Did you see more Chitauri?” Tony asked one night, perfectly nonchalant.The scavengers were away for over a week this time. Tony slept only thanks to the immense, bone-deep exhaustion.Twice - two days in a row - Tony found himself clutching at his shirt, fingers scratching over the reactor as his heart and chest burned in agony. The first time was a complete surprise, happening mid-day during his and O’s hours.It took everything to convince O to stay put and not run for Jax, to keep quiet and not say a word, when she walked in on that. He swore on everything he could that he was fine, that she didn’t have to worry. That when the appropriate time came, he’d tell on his own. He didn’t say a word. The second time was less of a surprise, a hot tingle that trickled down his spine that gave him enough warning to hide in their room. No one would hear his screams there. Now, next to him, James wiped his face with a damp tattered cloth, trying to get off most of the grime and caked blood. He sat with his naked back to Tony and any other time, Tony would probably appreciate the view and crack a joke. Right now though,  the bruising on his back was spectacular and Tony’s fingers twitched with the sudden urge to soothe.He curled his hands into fists when James heaved himself up and reached towards the crate that held their clothes.  “Yeah.” His moves were slow, body weary as he pulled on one of his cleanest - even if far from clean - shirts. “Two times they came down. Day after day and we weren’t expecting that,  that’s when they got us. Still, we were lucky this time.”Tony swallowed around the cold, hard ball in his throat. They were lucky, indeed. It could've been so much worse. On a whim, he walked up, wrapped his arms around James’ waist and downright plastered himself to his back. Felt the warmth seep into him, warming up his bones and easing that ever-present ache around his heart.“Tony?” James’ voice was soft and only then Tony realized he was shaking. “You ok back there?”He shook his head, buried his nose in the shirt and focused;  tried to pick out the different notes in James’ smell. Tried to ignore the cloying scent of blood that seemed to cling to him almost on a daily basis, that familiar coppery metal tang he could almost taste on his own tongue.  There was the smell of dust there and under that, a tinge of metal from the arm. He held on and tried to breathe calmly, his brain shifting into overdrive, thinking, spinning, never stopping. Once’s a chance. Twice’s a coincidence. Tony breathed in once, twice, took time to listen to the steady, familiar beat of James’ heart.“I’m glad you’re ok, ” He rasped, tightened his hold. “I’m really glad you’re ok.”James’ hands covered his -  calloused skin and smooth metal warm - the hum he gave out a relaxing, vibrating sound in his chest.“Same, Tony.” He said gently, rubbing his thumbs over Tony’s knuckles. He seemed perfectly fine to have Tony’s arms wrapped around him, fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt. “I’m glad we’re fine, too.” --- There was a third time. And a fourth.And a fifth and then some more and then Tony stopped counting.He never said a word, despite them burning in the back of his throat. After all, he was always well versed in ignoring a situation where he was both the source and the solution of a problem. --- Tony was hands deep in yet another upgrade for the watering systems of herbarium and the vegetable garden area when James entered the workshop.It was late into the night, but the ache inside Tony’s chest wasn’t an ache that day, more like the steady pulse of pain. Nothing overwhelming, he’s had worse but it was still enough to keep him restless, sleepless. Like one of his infamous inventing binges, where he ran on brilliance and coffee alone.He was almost out of coffee by now, maybe a cup or two left.It didn’t matter. It was not like he could ask James to make a supply run, besides, the pain kept him awake equally well. “I need a word with you.” The way James phrased sentence made him sound more like the Barnes from before and left no room for any misunderstandings. He was clearly pissed at Tony. Very, very pissed.Tony sighed, pushed himself up from where he was hunched over the table. Well this was to be expected, he thought and god that came out miserably pathetic even in his own head. He couldn’t recollect what exactly did he do lately to warrant this sort of annoyed anger, but then again, he was who he was.It was inevitable that he finally became too much. It was a miracle all on its own that James lasted that long anyway, dealing with Tony in the best and worst circumstances possible, day by day and night by night.Without a word, he followed James, shoulders hunched as if to hide from the growing cold. Not to make himself smaller, he reasoned, no, never. They took the winding corridors east, where the least populated part of the sewer was located. With a barely stopped snort, Tony thought that at least - if for some reason James wanted to get rid of him permanently for one reason or another - he was certainly going about it properly.  Almost no one came down the east exits. “Not sure if you remember why we’re here, you know. We’re supposed to be looking for the half of your soul,” James hissed, as he crowded him against the nearest wall as soon as they were out of earshot. Here, so much closer to the exit from the sewers, the water was higher; sloshing around when they stepped into it.The damp stone wall was cold, enough for the chill to seep through the layer of clothes Tony wore that evening. Somehow, he wasn’t exactly certain that the cold was the reason why he shuddered.  “We are.” Tony stared at the metal frame of the gate behind James, the drops that clung to it and then fell. Focused on the cold that clung to his skin, the dampness that slowly started creeping up his feet. Focus on anything, he told himself. Anything but James’ hand curled into his shirt, over the strained beat of Tony’s heart and the ever-present, gentle hum of the reactor.“No. We’re not, ” James pushed closer, shook his hand as if that would shake some sense into Tony. “I know you’ve got it figured out. We’ve been here months now, and instead of going home, I am wasting our time by running errands for these people, while you plan on fucking killing yourself.”“I’m not…” He started to say but impossible how it may have seemed, James pushed in closer. The proximity had Tony looking up, their faces inches away and from up this close, he could recognize the hurt and despair in James’ eyes. “This Tony Stark has been dead for over a hundred years. I’m not letting you join him.” It was a breath-taking truth, one that caused Tony’s heart to burn, his chest to constrict painfully for entirely different reasons. Gently, slowly -willing to stop if it was too much -  he placed both his hands on James’s warm hand, that tightly curled fist trembling.He felt the tiny scars that covered the back of James’ hand, the rough skin on top of his knuckles. History of pain inflicted both on him and by him. Familiar in a way it shouldn’t be, wouldn’t be if they were back where they belonged. Here, their cots were pushed together and more often than not, Tony fell asleep with a super soldier curled around him, feeling warm and safe in an unsafe world.Tony breathed out slowly, his heart hammering in his chest. They were so close here, there was so much trust between them. Here, they entwined so much so often that the sewer's residents used to talk about them as a unit, TonyAndBucky said in one rushed breath.“But I’m not going to,” he said slowly finally, one thumb rubbing gently over the little crisscrosses on James’ skin. “And I can help them, I can fix this, I just need a little bit more time.”James’ rested his forehead against Tony’s, the gesture itself not entirely new and completely welcomed. He was running a little hot as usual and the warmth of him was a pleasant contrast to the chill nipping at Tony’s back. He ran his fingers over the scarred knuckles again, felt the shaky exhale warm up his cheeks.“You don’t have to save everyone. And here, there are no more superheroes, Tinkerbell,” James sounded as if saying it out loud pained him, perhaps as much as it pained Tony. As if he too, was trying hard to believe his own words. “And these people are not soldiers, or agents, or spies. They don’t have weapons necessary to strike back, no matter what you’re planning. Their numbers are too few. They’re survivors, Tony and only God knows for how long they’ll manage to keep hiding.”There was something more in the ice blue of James’s eyes, something terrifying and sweet that Tony didn’t want to recognize. Didn’t dare, because it caused his chest to ache in a completely different way than he was used to. It as something dazzling, breathtaking; something that made him want to stay like this forever, huddled into a dark corner with only a hair’s width keeping them apart. “So are we.” Tony whispered, his heart somehow suddenly thumping against the tightness of his throat, “Survivors. You and I.”“It’s different. You’re a hero.” James closed his eyes, took a breath and it felt as if he pulled it straight from Tony’s lungs. “And even before I was made the Winter Soldier, I was a soldier. I knew how to kill people and I was good at it.  Jax is a good leader for what they have here, but they’re not built for a fight.”Another shudder ran through him, “So help me.”“Tony.”“You’re right, I do have it figure out. We’ll go for the Tesseract. That’s what gives them the upper hand. It did in our world, in our time,” he breathed out, saw the ice crack in James’ eyes and pushed on. “And yeah, maybe history took a different turn here and the Avengers are nothing more than a ghost story. But we’re here, now.”“And we’re here for a reason. We’re here to save you. ”“Look, I can fix this.” He said with conviction, knowing his belief was not misplaced. He took a breath, tightened his hold on James’ hand. The hand that was now cradled against his heart and not clenched around his shirt. “Help me help them. Help me fight for them.”He heard James’ hard swallow, felt the way he pressed up against him. Felt the weight of the metal over his hip, familiar and comforting, where once it would make him twitch and jerk away.   Quietly, carefully - among shared breaths - Tony finally spoke again, “I don't’ have anyone else but you, James. I can do this alone, but the truth is I-I don’t want to.” His voice cracked at the end and he felt like everything laid named and raw between them. Their noses brushed and the world shrunk down to them, holding onto each other in a quiet sort of desperation.“Weapons.” That hand on Tony’s hip tightened slightly, thumb pressing in briefly. James’ voice was ragged, mournful and it made no sense. Not until James opened his eyes and Tony’s breath caught in his throat at the glazed with tears look. Pained. Apologetic. And-, Oh. For him, this was all for him, Tony realized.  “I’ll- we’ll need weapons.”With his lungs burning, his body shaking like a leaf between the cold wall and James’s warmth, Tony knew the answer by heart. There was no pause, no hesitation before he answered.There couldn’t be, not with Tony’s hands a gentle cradle around James’s face, thumbs at the outer corners of those bright bright eyes.Not anymore. “Then I’ll make them for you.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

James looked so deceivingly young when he slept. 
And Tony was pretty well-aware that that was the first thing they’d be teaching in Creeper Class 101 - watch the object of your stalkerish affection sleeping - thank you very much, but the fact remained a fact.
 
He just looked so damn young.
 
Not like he was a hundred years old, not like he had a lifetime of torture and abuse behind him. Not like there were nightmares haunting his sleep, memories of shots fired, lives taken, of hard metal fingers closing around soft, soft skin.
 
Tony had been privy to more than one of those, lately.
 
Not to say that Tony’s sleep, whenever he had a chance to catch more than a few minutes that was, was a pleasant affair. Everyone had their demons and Tony made best friends with his long ago.
 
But it was somehow different when it was James and his past catching up with him when he was at his most vulnerable. There was a difference when your guilt-feeding monsters stemmed from your own ignorance and a sort of naivety and when they were birthed in a lab and raised bathed with your bloodied hands, when you had no control over your own fingers.
 
It was different, because James didn’t wake up drenched in cold sweat and breathing heavily. There was no loud gasp or a sudden jolt, no terrified scream that would rush him back to the present.
 
No, James simply slipped back into consciousness, quiet as the ghost he was once made into, and then, then, -
 
He’d move away.
 
Tony had learned that one sleepless night, body too tired to move but brain too frazzled to calm the fuck down and switch off. So he just lay there, thinking a hundred thoughts a minute and enjoying the feel James’ metal hand splayed somewhat possessively across his stomach, when it happened.
 
All of a sudden James went rigid, where a breath ago he was a soft, warm, comforting weight plastered against Tony’s back. Those metal fingers twitched, their motion on Tony’s skin a ticklish sensation. And then, without a change in his breathing, without any other sign, James tried to move away.
 
It was no more than an inch or two, not much by someone else’s standards, but with the way they had literally become entwined with each other? James might as well suddenly teleport to the other side of the sewers, that’s how acutely Tony felt it.
 
He grabbed at James’ hand when he tried to untangle it from underneath Tony’s shirt, pressed it flat against his stomach, back to where it was supposed to be.
 
“Don’t,” Tony whispered feverishly and only then felt the slight hiccup in James’ breath, where it hit the skin on his neck. “Don’t.”
 
He tried to tell himself that James - strong, steady James who became his friend and anchor and probably the sole reason Tony could still think straight - didn’t make any noise then. Definitely not a noise that came out as choked and quiet as if he was biting on his own cheeks to keep it in.
 
But still, thankfully, James slotted himself right back where Tony wanted him, their bodies touching everywhere from head to toe. He had his nose buried in Tony’s hair as he inhaled deeply - not shakily, no, not at all - and there was a barely-there shake to his hand.

Tony twined their fingers together, held on.
 
“You’re here,” he whispered into the dark, waited for a barely there nod. “You’re safe.”
 
Another breath, another nod and Tony closed his eyes. He gave the metal hand a little squeeze, pushed one of his legs between James’ to hook his ankle around his calf.  His heart was a mad beat against his chest, throat tight all of a sudden as a flare of fierce, burning protectiveness surged through every single cell in Tony’s body.
 
“You’re with me, Snowflake,” he repeated quietly, pressing himself back as James made the tiniest sniffling noise.  He heard the soft whirring of panels as he was held tight, tighter. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
 
---
 
At one point, it only seemed natural that James took to falling asleep with his metal hand splayed flat over the arc reactor. He said it helped, the thrum of it under his fingers.
 
Tony couldn’t find it in himself to mind.
 
Not when he found himself sleeping more and more each night, his thoughts sizzling out to the sound of James’ breathing.
 
---
 
It took two more weeks for Tony to come up with a plan and then one more for James to add to it, his knowledge of the upper surface adding more variables and details.    
 
There were murmurs, voices hushed so that not one word was said loud and clear.  No one speaking up properly before Jax cleared his throat.
 
“You want us to go to war,” he said calmly and the murmur around rose to a higher pitch, the disagreement thick and heavy in the air. “To go against a force that nearly wiped out all of humanity.  Am I understanding that correctly, Tony from another world? We took you in and you want us to die?”
 
Tony’s  heart stopped inside of his chest, felt like a cold dead weight and then James’ hand was a light touch between his shoulder blades.
 
Steadying.
 
Grounding.
 
Reminding him of what was at stake here.
 
“No.” Tony raised his chin up, straightened his posture. “I want you to live.”
 
“We are living,” Nico barked from somewhere on the side, his face a perpetual frown whenever he looked at Tony. Despite their long stay in the sewers, Tony and Nico never seemed to see eye to eye.
 
The loss of some of their scavengers - Nico’s life-long friends - didn’t earn Tony any points.
 
James sighed behind him, shifted his weight a bit to shuffle more into Tony’s space.
 
That dreaded cold inside his chest lessened, his bones slowly warming up.  
 
“No, you’re not,” James said, and there was so much sadness in his voice that everyone turned to him. “You’re surviving and while it’s admirable that you’ve managed to do so in a world where not many did, this is not living. You deserve to live like you should, with fresh air and sun and a sky above your head. An’ we can help.”
 
“We can make it happen,” Tony echoed the statement, grateful for the support and the touch, “and I don’t want you to wage a war, Jax. Your people are not fighters or warriors or soldiers. I don’t expect them to be.” He looked to James then, waited for a nod before continuing. “But we are.”
 
“You can’t take on all of the Chitauri like this, just the two of you.” Octavia gritted through clenched teeth. Her eyes were dark, pinched tight at the corners and her shoulders were painfully straight. “That’s suicide and you know it.”
 
“Not all of them, no.” Tony took a breath, steadied himself on his feet. Tapped the arc reactor twice and tried not to cringe at the flicker of fear in her eyes when the armor encased his body. The silence was staggering as he stood at full height, everyone’s eyes on the sleek red and gold armor. “But we know what can stop them and how to do it. All I’m asking of you is to let us arm you, so that once we’re gone, I’ll know you’re not defenseless up there.”
 
Jax rubbed his chin in thought and in the silence Tony could hear the rasp of his beard against his hand.
 
“If what you say is true and it happens,” Jax said slowly, weighing his words, “if we were to live above the ground again once the Chitauri are gone, why would we need weapons? There would be no more enemies to fight.”
 
For all the hardships these people went through, creating a world from scratch, there was a certain sort of naivety to them, Tony thought with sudden fondness. Less than a full two generations from what he knew as his reality and these people forgot that aliens weren’t the only dangers out there.
 
That was fine. Tony could remind them, warn them.
 
Prepare them.
 
“Because people can be cruel too.”
 
---
 
“You’re going to die like him.”
 
Octavia cornered him after he stepped out of the bathing area, after scrubbing off the grime of the last couple of days.
 
Gone was that dark look from before, and there was no more of that snarl that left her mouth when Jax agreed to their plan. She’d avoided him for the rest of the day and while Tony understood - he all but upthrew their fragile stability with his offer - he missed his brilliant girl.
 
Many others moved around him as if he had the plague, but that was ok. He hardly made best friends around here, most of his time spent with O and James. But her absence made him feel hollow and seeing her brought a sweet kind of relief.
 
She looked frazzled, hair sticking in all directions and hands in constant motion, as she wrung her fingers over and over.
 
Slowly, as if he were approaching a small, scared animal, Tony walked up to her. He smoothed his hand down the side of her head, tucking few strands behind her ear and deciphered the look in her eyes without too much trouble.
 
“No I’m not,” he said with a smile; said with conviction he actually felt. “We’re going to do this, kiddo. We’re going home and then you’re going to be the first to climb out of here and to create a brand new world.”
 
O nodded sharply, sniffled - and her eyes went damp and doe-wide, a harsh blush tinting her cheeks.
 
“It’s not gonna be the same without you,” she tried so hard to blink the moisture away and Tony grinned, something akin to pride unfurling inside of his chest. “We, I- I don’t know anything about the outside. How stuff works and, and-”
 
“Kid, you’ve been running this place better than anyone else and you’ve still got milk under your nose.” Tony wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “And if you don’t know how something works, you do what you do best.”
 
“Take it apart?” Light was coming back to her eyes, the corners of her lips shyly curving up.
 
“Hell yeah. And then you make it listen to you.” He flicked her nose. “Now, let's get moving, we’ve got some things to do. We’re gonna make a lot of stuff go bada-boom! Finally, some fun!”
 
---
 
Tony was sure Jax regretted ever letting Tony near the sewers, especially when a series of small explosions woke up everyone.
 
He and O high-fived, both of them laughing and waving the smoke away before James barged in, shooed Octavia to bed like a goddamn parent and all but dragged Tony away by the collar.
 
“For a genius you’re a regular dumbass, you know that,” James sighed later, when Tony was all but trapped in an octopus-hug in their bed. “Explosions in enclosed space, Jesus and all the saints. What is it with me and picking up regular idiots left and right for over seventy years, can’t a guy catch a break or somethin’?”
 
Tony would protest, but with the success of his and O’s very first try and the absolutely

fond

way James spoke those last words? Well, it all made protesting seem rather pointless. He felt oddly high, giddy like a teen, and his cheeks were aching from smiling.
 
“Aw,” he cooed, tried twisting so he could look up at James, but was firmly held in place. So unfair, the whole stupid super-soldier strength and all of James’ everything.  “Knew you liked me.”
 
“Regretting every second of it right now,” James muttered, pressed his chin into the top of Tony’s head. Guy had serious big spoon game, Tony had to give it to him. “Idiot.”
 
Tony tried to stop his grin from widening, he really did.
 
It was a fight he lost gladly.
 
---
 
O’s look said

millions

when Tony not that subtly tried to get rid of her once James brought back some scrappy remains of food for them. She lingered to the point where Tony literally considered throwing all of their wrenches at her, just to get her gone.
 
“What’s gotten into you today?” James asked when she finally took the hint and disappeared down the corridor with a maniacal cackle. “Usually it’s impossible to separate you two.”
 
For a second Tony was tempted to play coy, but in the end decided against it.
 
“I have a surprise for you,” he announced, wiping his hands into his shirt. “Come on, ‘Bucks’ Bunny.”
 
“Do you ever run out of those?” James asked, clearly amused as he followed Tony to the furthest corner, where some crates made up yet another table. He eyed the irregular, sheet-covered bulky form on its surface without any signs of worry. “What is that?”
 
Not saying a word, Tony pulled the sheet off, showing what was hidden underneath.
 
It was prototype still, in a way,  but it worked splendidly given the circumstances Tony and O were working in.
 
The rifle was sleek, smooth, larger than the regular ones James used back home due to all the alien tech they ingrained in it. But it would fit James perfectly, allow him that deadly precision back.
 
If James wanted it.
 
But James just sucked in a breath, stared at it and said nothing.
 
The silence was slowly becoming unbearable, stretching for too long between them. The look on James’ face was unreadable and that was saying something, since Tony had learned how to decipher the smallest tick of an eye and the barest quirk of a lip.  For James to close up like this, to become so unreadable again, caused Tony’s stomach to tighten unpleasantly.
 
And like every time in his life, words sizzled on his tongue.
 
“It, I mean, I know this is different from what you’re used to, but all things considered? We really did good with her, ” Tony spoke up, the need to explain himself overwhelming. “And the more materials we get, the better the upgrades. I’ll keep working on them, don’t worry, but for now this is the best I can do. This one’s yours, if you’d even want it, because...”
 
“Jesus fuck, Tony.” James said finally, crossing the distance between them in barely two steps.
 
His hands cupped Tony’s face, cold metal and warm skin, and before Tony could properly register what was about to happen, James kissed him.
 
Just pressed his lips to Tony’s like it was a thing they did constantly and

oh yes, please

.
 
It was warm and, and it felt so natural that Tony forgot how to breathe for a moment, but it was ok, because James seemed dead-set on kissing the breath back into him. His thumbs brushed Tony’s cheeks, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the way the table behind him dug into his backside.  His own hands scrambled to find some sort of purchase, somewhere, anywhere, and he found it in the loose fabric of James’ shirt. Not pushing or pulling, but simply holding on for dear life.
 
Warmth washed over him, seeping in from James pressed up so close, numbing the ever-present ache as Tony tilted his head just so. Pressed back, opened up and suddenly the war-zone world they were in faded to nothing.
 
Everything fell away; it was just them and the feel of James’ lips moving against his, the rasp of stubble and the familiar smell of warm dust.
 
And it was so soft, it caused Tony’s breath to hitch somewhere between kisses, get trapped in the back of his throat again. They were iron-and-war-born, both of them, blood-tempered sharp edges and blood-covered hands.  They kissed and kissed. The images of a world in ruin in Tony’s mind, the memory of winter in his heart - it was all burning away under the gentle press of James’ mouth.
 
Yes, they were both cracked open and remade a little bit wrong, Tony thought over a gasp, his hands moving up to tangle in James’ hair. A wet slide of tongue and all those pieces that didn’t quite fit in him? They caught onto the barbed edges of the ones that were left in James, all locked together and made a whole.
 
“You thank all the fellas like that?” Tony rasped, when the kiss finally broke. They pulled away just to rest their foreheads together, James’ hands gripping at Tony’s waist.
 
His lips felt swollen and tingling, and all he could hear was the way they were both breathing hard. His heart hammered inside of his chest, wanting out, and Tony wasn’t sure he could ever open his eyes, face the world again as it came crashing back.
 
“Just you.” James’ voice was a rough whisper. He pressed one more kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth, lightning fast as if he couldn’t help himself and then took a deep breath.  “Sorry though. I probably should’ve asked or something.”
 
Funny thing, he didn’t look apologetic at all. Damned pleased with himself, rather.
 
“So you really like that rifle, huh?” Tony huffed out a laugh, straining for light and casual and missing by a mile. His hands - oh dear God, what was he supposed to do with his hands? - were kind of hovering in the vicinity of James’ chest.
 
“I…

Tony.

”
 
There were so many emotions packed into his name, four tiny letters that held all those things between them they didn’t talk about. His eyes fluttered open, met James’ unguarded gaze. For a moment, he could recognize them all, believe they were his for the taking.
 
Then he remembered their reality, as if it came crashing down; his own words

I don’t have anyone else but you

rang inside of his mind and his hands fell from where they dared to brush against James’ collarbones.
 
“Right,” he coughed, leaning back slightly. Distance. There was a need for distance between them, be it just a couple of inches more. He felt his stomach do a complicated flip, waves of hot and cold washing over him. His fingers clenched around the table’s edge, one of the screws digging painfully into the inside of his palm.
 
Reminding him of what was real, of what they really were. Reminding him that James’ hands should not feel this right over the raise of his hips. Or that James should not take one step closer, efficiently removing all the scarce - and suddenly much-needed - distance between them.
 
He kept his head lowered, brows furrowed as he glared at the ground as if it had personally offended him.
 
“Didn't you mention once that you’re a scientist?” James muttered, thumbs pressing into Tony’s hips for a moment. “That you learn from experience?”
 
Tony jerked his head up, heart stuttering at the sight of that gloriously wide, shit-eating grin. Catching Tony’s bewildered gaze, James smiled even more, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and it was such a beautiful look on him.
 
“Yes, yes I did.” Tony nodded, something fragile unfurling inside of his chest at that look. It was unfair, for James to look at him like that. Like Tony was something precious in this world. Like he was precious to James.  “What of it?”
 
“‘Cause I think you’ve drawn the wrong conclusions here, Tinkerbell.” His thumbs found the hem of Tony’s shirt, skimmed underneath and pressed into his skin directly. It was a delicious thing, to feel it outside of their bed.  “Maybe you should run that experiment one more time.”
 
With the way he shuffled closer, forcing Tony’s feet apart, there was hardly a chance for Tony to draw the wrong conclusions this time.
 
Still, -
 
“Yeah?” His smile broke through, hope flaring bright and warm in his heart. He reached out, hand gentle as he cupped James’ face. Felt the fragility of the moment, admired the bravery it took for James to put himself out there like this. “You think one more will be enough?”
 
He felt the answer more than he heard it, a low warm hum pressed against his neck when James dipped his head. His hands were underneath Tony’s shirt, warm and huge over the small of his back. His hair tickled Tony’s nose, breath leaving a damp spot over his pulse.
 
“We’ll just have to make it a very thorough one.”
 
---
 
They did, and for the first time in forever Tony felt truly alive.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was surprising that not all that much changed between them.
 
They could not be found kissing every chance they had. They would not tear or claw at their clothes when it was just the two of them.
 
They would look at each other, however, their looks unabashedly open and curious and James kept smiling at him in a way that made Tony feel warm. In a way that soothed the pain of his soul being torn in two.
 
They stood close, closer than needed, always within touching distance, and Tony took advantage of that with no qualms. He’d grab his arm - either one - when he wanted more of James’ attention. He’d rest his head against James’ shoulder when they were looking over schematics and drafts. He’d hold James’ hand during the short breaks when he would get dragged out to find any food and to stretch his legs.  
 
Octavia made gagging noises and called them disgusting. One time, James threw her a shit-eating grin and flipped her off while pulling Tony into an overly enthusiastic kiss. Tony ruined it spectacularly by laughing into it, but it was fine, ‘cause James was laughing too as O cussed up a storm and threw screws and bolts at their feet.
 
---
 
It was a strange realization to find himself feeling as happy as he was, Tony thought one night, his fingers playing idly with one of the longer strands of James’ hair.
 
In a movie or a cheap paperback novel he’d be found appreciating how smooth and silky it was, how it slipped between his fingers. In this reality, James hadn’t washed his hair for a while now and it was slightly matted at the ends, tangled from the ever-present bun he preferred.
 
“You’re kind of dirty,” Tony murmured sleepily and James scoffed behind him, pressed his teeth lightly to the back of Tony’s neck in retaliation. “And not in the fun way, either.”
 
Metal fingers pressed into hip. “Get us back home, sweetheart, an’ I’ll show you the fun way.”
 
His heart constricted upon hearing those words, because they held a tease and a promise and Tony wanted to make it all happen.
 
And he dreaded it all at the same time.
 
---
 
Tony took down the Avengers’ poster one night and James didn’t say a word.
 
Instead he stripped them both of their shirts that night and all thoughts flew out of Tony’s head at the feeling of all that skin against his. At the lazy kisses James trailed back and forth along the line from Tony’s shoulder to his neck, at the way his fingers petted Tony’s side. At the scratch of the scruff-turned-beard, the all-too-familiar sound of James’ breathing.
 
They started sleeping in their boxers only - who needed clothing when Tony had his super-soldier heater, after all? - and their hands wandered more and more. Ever so curious and gentle, fingers following the dips of ribs and raises of hips.
 
Touching flesh and metal.
 
Tracing scars.
 
Learning, memorizing.
 
And while he felt shy to a point Tony could barely recognize himself,  it also felt like falling and flying at the same time.
 
---
 
It was good and warm and soft, something so unlikely to be found between the rubble of a world they once knew.
 
---
 
Flash grenades turned out to be particularly easy to make. So were pistols.  They consumed way less materials than rifles and were easier for the scavengers to use. And with the production of weaponry, the raids turned from scavenging only to actively looking out for any solitary Chitauri soldiers.
 
James’ rifle was still the only one Tony made so far - and upgraded with a silencer as soon as he could make one - and he made good use of it during the raids.  There was something precious about the way James handled her, despite everything.
 
Like the rifle was a part of him, and not just a tool. Tony never commented out loud, but James moved, held himself differently when he had her in his hands. His back was straighter, prouder, his head held a little higher.
 
As if a missing piece finally snapped back into place and made him whole.
 
And if she kept James safer out there?
 
Well, that was just an added bonus.
 
---
 
The raids were never this long before. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, Tony told himself as he paced around the small room. They’d be back soon - maybe they just needed to venture further, maybe closer to the former city center. They’d been scavenging there more and more; perhaps the materials and still-working crystals had become harder to find.
 
But it was almost a week now and it was Tony’s third day of running on no sleep.
 
The bed somehow became uncomfortable, too cold and too angular, offering no place for him to find rest. The ratty covers provided no isolation from the damp cold of the sewers.
 
He chewed on his lip, the semi-healed flesh cracking open again. It should be unsettling, how much he’d gotten accustomed to the taste of his own blood, but ever since they had been offered a place to stay, on some days it had become a habit too hard to overcome.
 
A bite, a sting of pain, the taste of copper.
 
God, he was tired. There was no more coffee to keep him running, to keep his mind focused. Octavia all but threw him out of their workplace, said he was forbidden to return until he got some proper sleep. That kid had no respect for her elders whatsoever, Tony muttered to himself on the long way back to the room as he dragged his feet.
 
“Fuck,” Tony hissed, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.
 
He wanted to sleep. He wanted his clear mind back, wanted his hands to stop shaking.  He wanted to not worry, wanted to not listen for every goddamn little sound, wanted to stop jumping at every single screech of the gate at the western tunnel.  
 
He wanted, -
 
He wanted James back.
 
The way he fell down onto the cot was overly dramatic; he could hear the echo of Rhodey’s

eye roll

in the back of his head. He pressed his face into the pillow, blocking out the flickering light in the corner of their room. Cutting off all air that didn’t carry the scent of James’ body.
 
Something wet and damp formed in his throat, threatening to choke him.
 
Why didn’t he suggest joining in this time? He could have helped, would have known what to pick up. Oh, right. He did just that and got a long moment of incredulous silence in return.
 
‘

If you want our help, you need to focus on working,’

Jax said as he shot down each and every single one of Tony’s arguments with one sentence.

‘Make your weapons so we can protect ourselves,’

Tony heard loud and clear, Jax’ eyes dark as they stared each other down. ‘

This will be your war; we were fine with just surviving.’

And James just smiled when they moved out, his rifle thrown over his shoulder, looking all calm and collected. He was the only one in that group who knew what he signed up for and how to actually survive outside of the fucking sewers.
 
Tony squeezed his eyes shut, willed his body to stop shaking. He needed to calm the fuck down and try to get some sleep. Everyone was pitching in and Jax was right. This was his war; he was the one to wage it, so he was the one who needed to supply the remains of the world for it.
 
“And so, the Merchant of Death has been reborn,” Tony whispered into the darkness, fingers clenched in a death grip around the covers.
 
“Were you always this much of a dramatic lil’ shit or is this just for me?” James’ voice caused him to yelp, flail, and the next thing he registered was the zing of pain shooting up from his back as he landed on the concrete floor. “Jesus, Tony are you alright?”
 
“Fucking hell, Sub-Zero, would it

kill

you to make a noise??”
 
“In fact, it might.” James emerged from the dark, leaned over with one hand already outstretched. “Sorry I frightened ya, Tinkerbell.”
 
His hand was pleasantly warm, his grip firm and solid as he helped Tony to stand up again. Once back on his feet, hands still clasped, Tony just stared - eyes roaming all over James’ face, taking in the already fading bruises and healing cuts. James looked not much worse for wear; he was dead tired, but alive and in front of him. Even managing to smile, as if he’d just pulled the best kind of prank.  
 
Tony stepped closer, lingered an inch or two shy of a hug. Fingers grasped at James’ shirt, like he was prone to doing - tethering himself in the moment.
 
“How long have you been here?”
 
“Long enough to see you try an’ suffocate yourself with my pillow.” His hands were a barely there weight over Tony’s hips, fingers twitching. “What’s going on, Tony? You look like shit.”
 
He considered deflecting. It would be just too easy to shrug off the evident care in James’ words. But it was just the two of them and Tony was tired  and he wanted to have James curled around him, like, yesterday.
 
So if honesty was the way to go, well. Hardly the toughest choice Tony had to make in his life.
 
“I made some more weapons. With what we had left, that is - I came up with a poorer version of Nat’s Bites, you know.  Then Octavia threw me out, told me to get back once I got some sleep,” he muttered, resting his forehead against James’ chest.  It was easier to admit everything when avoiding eye contact and all, if James was so damn set on an exhausted heart-to-heart. “That was three days ago, and I just, well. I’m here. How did the raid go? I see you’re ok, did everyone make it? It was too long, and I was worried, I am not sitting it out the next time, you know I can be of so much more help out there, the suit still works fine. I am-

mphm!

”
 
With some short-circuited part of his brain, Tony wholeheartedly agreed to the motion of being shut up with a kiss. It was probably the most effective way to have him stop talking, though sometimes it took him a second to properly register what was happening.  But

oh,

either James had been paying more attention than Tony gave him credit for or he was just unfairly talented.
 
Either way, tension bled out of him and he fucking swooned, allowed himself to be held up and so, so close. Focused on the taste and the feel of the kiss, the slide of tongue. The beard-burn a contrast to the gentle hand against his jaw, holding him in place as if he would ever want to move from this place.
 
Focused on the way James seemed dead set on kissing the breath out of him, keeping the kiss on that delicious edge between the right shade of intense and dirty.
 
“Missed you too, darlin’.” James smudged the words between kisses and pressed in closer.
 
Tony didn’t even try to stop a delighted huff of a laugh, nor the way his hands slipped under the layers of clothing to touch warm, warm skin. Still, he nipped on James’ lower lip in retaliation. “I never said that, how dare you, ” he all but purred, then licked over the spot as if in apology.
 
There was something precious about the warmth in James’ chuckle, about feeling it from up close. He did miss him, of course he did and the asshole knew it. The one man he had to go and develop all sorts of complicated feelings for was a grade-A jerk. Tony pressed a kiss to one of his cheeks, the choppy stubble there ticklishly soft under his lips.  
 
“I suppose the next round of bathing won’t happen in the next few minutes, huh?” James sighed, pressed in close, kept his arms around Tony’s waist.
 
Tony just made a small sound in his throat, almost apologetic because James had

just

missed the opportunity, the showers running barely the day before. The water generators were still in the works, a song of the future so to speak, and communal showers were still more of a luxury.  Putting his faith onto hope, Tony had cut his own shower short - James would definitely benefit from the fresh water, once he’d be back, he’d reasoned with himself. The smell of dust and stale sweat was something Tony got used to, even if it wasn’t particularly attractive.
 
Right now he was ok with the smell because it meant they were both ok. That he could stand there, wrapped around James; he could nuzzle his nose into the softness of a worn out collar, could feel chapped lips brush kisses against his temple. Could press his fingers into the dips between James’ ribs, hold on for dear life for a few minutes longer.
 
He pushed his hands up, “I wanna see you,” he muttered into the warm, soft skin of James’ throat.
 
“‘M ‘ere,” James may have huffed, but he moved willingly, raising his arms up so Tony could help with taking off the shirt.  Most of his hair had escaped the tie by then, falling around his face. “And you’re not blind, sweets, I know that for a fact.”
 
“Maybe I need a closer look.”
 
Tony pressed a kiss to his left shoulder, felt warm skin and cool metal and the way James shuddered against him. Hardly the first time Tony did that, but James reacted every single one. It was exhilarating and humbling, knowing that Tony

could

do that - undress and see, touch and kiss. Coax shivers and the tiniest sighs out of James.
 
“I got you some,” Tony mumbled, ran his hands down James’ sides one last time before he took a breath and a step back. “Water, that is. C’mon, soldier, let’s get you all squeaky clean.”
 
It wasn’t easy, carrying the battered bucket half filled with clean water out of the shared bath area. Or keeping it safe in their living space, making sure he wouldn’t trip over it and spill it all over their meager belongings. And squeaky clean was a lot of exaggeration, with no soap or gel or even just a sponge, or anything like that. One of their shirts would have to do.
 
Tony dragged the bucket closer to their bed and pulled his tank top off without a second of hesitation. He heard the metallic clank of James’ belt buckle as he pushed the covers aside, making enough room for him to sit.
 
“Well damn,” James sighed, plopping down heavily as Tony dunked the shirt in cold water. “Keep this up, Tony, and a fella might get the wrong impression.”
 
Asshole. Tony felt no guilt over plopping the soaking wet shirt straight onto James’ back, earning a yelp and a curse.
 
“What? That I want you clean and not smelling like roadkill?” He grinned, dragged it across his shoulder and enjoyed the way James straightened for a second, water running down his back. “Shocking, I know.”
 
Fuck, it would look lovely in proper lighting, Tony thought, all those muscles bunching up and shifting under his hands. The worst of the grime came off easily, soon leaving just scars and scattered moles visible on the wide expanse of skin. Under his ministrations and gentle wipes, James had his head bent forward, his breathing slow and even. There was a strange fragility to this, being able to take care of a a man so strong.
 
Tony leaned in, pressed a kiss to the bump at the base of his neck.
 
He dropped the shirt into the bucket again, swirled it around a little before .
 
Then he moved to stand in front of James, fingers pushing the matted hair back. “Hi,” he muttered when James looked up, tiredness softening his features. The outer corners of his eyes were dropping, the shadows forming under them making the irises seem even brighter than usual.
 
“Hey, yourself.” James gave him a small smile as Tony’s fingers drew little swirls behind his ears.
 
Words felt heavy on his tongue, hard to keep behind his teeth. They wanted out and he needed them out, Tony knew, lest they suffocate him. But not yet.
 
Not now.
 
Not here.
 
He picked up his task, made sure to wring out the excess of cold water this time before putting the damp cloth to James’ face. He dabbed at his cheeks, wiped over the line of his nose, his heart fluttering at the way James scrunched it up. He followed with another kiss to his mouth, just to feel that soft smile against his own mouth.
 
Dropped to his knees , dragged the cloth down to James’ chest.
 
“What are you doing?” James blinked at him sleepily, apparently crashing down quicker than Tony had ever seen him before. The raid must have been rougher than he wanted to admit and that was fine, Tony was here. “I can do this all on my own.”
 
“I know,” Tony aimed for nonchalance and missed by a mile, “but I told you, I wanna see you.”
 
He took his time, took more than James would; he would settle for a quick wipe down before he’d crash into their bed and fall asleep. But Tony paid attention to every dip between his ribs, went gentle on the scars of his shoulder. Kissed those again, for good measure. Took his hands, cleaned each knuckle and each digit, both metal and flesh alike.
 
Tony ran his fingers over the already fading bruising on James’s left thigh. The skin was swollen, hot. Cold water made James wince in discomfort, a barely there twitch that Tony wanted to soothe.
 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he ran the cloth over his knee, the one that popped sometimes with a cringeworthy sound.
 
“Not your fault, babe,” James said gently, quietly.
 
Tony wanted to believe him.
 
He blinked, pressed his fingers into one ankle and rubbed them in small circles. He then did the same with the other one, long enough that James’s eyes were becoming droopy again, shoulders lowered from their permanent guard.
 
Tony placed another kiss to the inside of his knee.
 
Tears stung at his eyes when he rested his head against James’ thigh and inhaled deeply. If he tried, focused, he noticed only the smell of James’ skin - not the water or the metallic scent of blood that seemed to never fade anymore.
 
“Tony.” James’ voice was an adorably urgent slur, his fingers clumsily petting his head. “C’mon Tinkerbell, get up here.”
 
Cloth and water forgotten, Tony moved. His body seemed oddly heavy, all iron-laden as he crawled up, pressed on. His weight was nothing to super-soldier strength and he sprawled himself all over James’ body.
 
Covered him, weighed him down. Protected him now, when outside he couldn’t.
 
He heaved himself up, staring down at those pretty blue eyes becoming hazy and groggy with sleep. At that tiny little smile, soft and private and Tony’s only.
 
“Tony,” James whispered once again, and what else could Tony do except lean down and press their mouths together, taste the remains of his name on James’ lips?
 
They kissed again, sleepy and clumsy. Tired, soft and heavy with relief, ‘till their mouths were red and sensitive. And even then some more, until time slowed down to a crawl around them. Until their voices became barely-there murmurs, less than words and just motions of lips against each other.
 
Tony finally curled himself under James’s chin, ear pressed to where his heart beat steady and strong. He had James’ hand held within his, metal knuckles just below his lips.

Not yet

, he reminded himself as he pressed one last kiss to the artificial surface.

Not now

, echoed in his head as if by some miracle it would drown out the steady murmur of

love-love-love.

James fell asleep like that, like usual - with one arm over Tony’s shoulders and with their legs tangled.
 
Tony listened to his breath, soaked up the warmth of his skin. Memorized each thump of his heart.
 
They were ok once again, together once again, bodies pressed close. James was safe now and so was Tony.
 
And then, finally, finally Tony breathed out; fell into sleep and in love.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The few last days seemed to fly by, as they were busy preparing both themselves and the people of the sewer.  James took over weapons training, the scavengers being the obvious choice for the armed guard. He went over and over the same old motions with them, showed them how to dismantle the guns and how to put them back together. He was patient with them, gentle when fears crept up on them and firm when anger stemmed from there. Tony witnessed a few of those lessons and never could stop a smile from forming. Seemed that there was much more of Sergeant Barnes left in James than anyone ever thought possible. Watching James like that, so strangely at ease, so natural, he remembered Howard and his drunken slurs of how the Howlies loved Bucky, how he could pull people to follow him when Steve still couldn’t. It was painful too, to see him thrive amidst a war zone, when Tony wanted nothing else but to give James peace. Maybe soon, if Tony was right, they could find some of it back home. Tony himself drew design after design, spent hours upon hours with O, both of them hunched over the damaged books and drawings. Octavia listened, her eyes dark and glistening with tears, but she was brilliant, amazingly so, and Tony couldn’t imagine leaving this world in better hands. He poured as much of his knowledge as he could, showed her some of his trade secrets to help rebuild and reclaim the Earth. Showed her the arc reactor tech, for later, for when she’d be able to breathe the fresh air and start lighting up the world anew. On that night, she clung to him, sniffling and shaking. “It’s not going to be the same without you,” she said, eyes stubbornly wet, and Tony felt something within him crack. O held on to him when he opened his arms, her boney fingers digging into his sides. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered into her hair, ignored the sudden sting in his own eyes. O smelled like dust and hot metal when she burrowed into his embrace.  “And I know you, kid. You’ll make it so much better.” --- Nico approached them one evening, a crude, clay bottle in his hand - and wasn’t that the most post-apocalyptic cliche Tony’d ever seen - his face a carefully blank mask. For a second he stared at Tony, not paying James any attention, before taking a seat on one of the crates on the opposite side of the small cooking pit they were at. He held out the bottle in Tony’s direction and Tony took it with an ounce of hesitation. He sniffed a little at the open neck, his nose wrinkling at the strong, sour smell of moonshine. “I always knew you’d be trouble,” Nico said gruffly, made a gesture that clearly said drink up and oh god, it was the most vile thing Tony had ever tasted. “Couldn’t stay in one place, eh, shiny man? Couldn’t leave things as they were.” “You got a point there, Nico?” James rumbled from beside him, and Tony hid a smile behind his hand as he wiped furiously at his mouth. Nico’s brows tightened and he looked so damned pained that for a moment there, Tony pitied him. He was no older than a teen and he danced with death on an almost daily basis lately, mostly because of Tony and his ideas and plans. He could see where the resentment stemmed from. “I want to live up there,” Nico finally said, and that pained tension bled away instantly and he looked so, so young. Too young. “We’ve only heard stories; those who could read, they read them aloud when we were children. About the green places where you’d sit, and the moving machines and the animals you’d keep.” Parks and cars and pets. Things that both Tony and James took for granted, but here, they were fairy tales, as unimaginable to Nico and other kids like him as Hogwarts was to Parker. Maybe even more, since magic did exist in their world. “I want to see that, too…” He shook his head, grabbed the bottle and took a swig. “I want to walk in the sun. But if you two were to die for that then I, - then it’s not worth it. Nothing is.” James hefted himself up, knelt in front of the kid and placed his metal hand on one boney shoulder. His thumb rubbed over the curve of it, as gentle as only Tony knew he could be and Nico blinked quickly, but not quick enough to hide the sheen of tears. “We won’t die, Nico,” James said quietly and with so much conviction that Tony couldn’t imagine an outcome different than them going back to their world safe and sound or for Nico to sit in a park one day, watching grass grow. “Me an’ Tony, we’re simply going home. And so are you.” --- “We’ll have to move soon,” Tony whispered against James’s lips on an evening a week or so later, when they lay half naked and tangled in the ratty sheets. And while under any other circumstances this would be a prelude to something much more fun and dirty, Tony loved the intimacy of just being able to spend time like that. Metal fingers tapped gently against his spine, a delicate rata-ta-ta-ta of a rhythm. “Actually, ‘m feeling pretty comfortable right here.” James’ answer was a low rumble, thick and warm like molasses. He nuzzled his nose into Tony’s hair. “Don’t feel like movin’ anytime soon.” It was always a delight to be able to just lay like that, in a warm embrace of a very relaxed and content James Barnes. He made Tony think of a giant cat that settled in a sunny spot for a nap. They shared a few traits, a giant cat and his James, after all. Both were beautiful and precise and could be deadly, but when they felt good, they were the softest creatures to ever take a breath. It was a mind-blowing realization that dawned upon him not that long ago, that Tony made James feel that sort of good, that sort of safe, that the man lowered all of his shields and walls. That he could spend hours just laying there, one of Tony’s feet caught between his and just enjoying each other’s presence. Just holding Tony and being held in return, his flesh and metal fingers insanely gentle where they traced the dips and bumps of Tony’s ribs. “So, tell me something, Snowdrop,” Tony muttered, smearing the words across James’ collarbone and in ways of an answer,  he could feel the slight tremor in James’ body. There was a low heat sizzling in the depth of his belly, the kind that made his skin feel all sorts of electric. Anticipation caressed every inch of it and James’ hands on him only amped up the sensation. For all the days since their relationship had begun, nothing had happened other than kissing and snuggling and some gentle, wandering hands. It was a testimony to the sort of power of will Tony didn’t even think he had because if this was the Compound, he was fairly sure that he and James would have christened every possible surface. But it wasn’t and somehow doing anything more didn’t feel right. His only answer was a low, rumbling hum, a soothing sound that seemed to seep into Tony’s bones and warm him up, causing his toes to curl. Tony pressed one last kiss to the clavicle, pushed himself up to look at James. Admired the soft, disheveled look, the soft winter-blue eyes, the hair that desperately needed a good wash and cut spilled artistically over the pillow. “What’s the first thing you wanna do when we get home?” James’ hands slid down Tony’s sides, rested hot and heavy on his hips. They fit perfectly there, the sharp rise of the bones a handle for the soldier’s strong grip. James gave him a smile that was both lazy and molten hot, his fingers digging into Tony’s skin deliciously. “You.” --- In the daze that followed, Tony ran over every variable and possibility he could think of. He tried to remember the layout of the Tower, how he and Pepper designed it and where the maintenance shafts ran deep and where the vents were wide enough for them to crawl through. Of course, considering how destroyed the building was, he told James that they always had to prepare for something to go wrong. --- When the time came for them to leave, Tony found out that Jax hugged like Rhodey. It made Tony’s heart stop for a long, painful moment, as he was enveloped in a bear-like, warm hug, a thump of one fist across his shoulder blades. “Once you’re back there,” Jax said, and there was an odd quality to his voice, rough like sandpaper and warm as candlelight, “here, we’ll remind everyone that Tony Stark and James Barnes saved the world.” Tony nodded, throat too tight and then he found himself looking at Jax’s face, at the gold warm eyes and the scarred face. At the man who gave the remains of humanity a place to hide and regain a sense of belonging, at the man who took Tony and James in. Who put his faith in Tony’s wild plan and his trust in James’ rifle-skilled hands. “Go on, Iron Man.” Nico was already waiting for them at the opened gate, the one that led them furthest north. Jax patted Tony’s shoulder, gave him one last smile. “It’s time for you to go home.” --- Things did go wrong and Tony found himself helping James trudge through a mucky sewer. That was why, several hours later, they were curled around each other, waiting for the commotion on the ground above to die out. “Can’t wait to get home and get a fucking towel,” James muttered, plucking his blood-damp shirt away from his side. “I’m gonna use the fanciest, fluffiest ones you have, just so you know.” “You heathen, those are for when the Queen comes,” Tony replied without missing a beat, ignoring the damn wet ball that had lodged itself in his throat as he pressed a kiss to James’ sweaty forehead. --- Soon. They’d move out soon, Tony mentally chanted and remembered how, merely a couple of days ago, he whispered the exact same words in the warm dark of their tiny room. Just a few days and it still felt as if it was a whole lifetime ago, where they were safe and sound, sharing lazy kisses and heated promises before finally falling into sleep. Now they were underneath the remains of the Tower,  just the two of them, about to take on who knew how many Chitauri in a desperate attempt to go home. And save this world, give these people a chance to live like they deserved to. They made it all the way from the sewer to the Tower unscathed, but the last couple of hundred yards they had to cross over the surface. That’s where they ran into a patrol - or so Tony called it in his mind, seeing a couple of overgrown Chitauri making their rounds. For a long moment they remained hidden underneath the rubble, unsure of how to continue. Their goal was never to take on the space-bred bastards; they were supposed to get into the Tower unseen, make use of all the tunnels and vents, and destroy the Tesseract. In the end, there was only one way to do this, even if at first Tony was distracted by the fluidity with which James cocked the rifle to his shoulder and, over the course of one long exhale, took a perfect shot. Things took a turn then, but it was hardly something that would slow Tony and James down in the long run. Between the two of them, disposing of the aliens wasn’t a hard task to accomplish; but still, one grunt gave out a piercing screech before James wrung its neck, the sound hauntingly loud in the wasteland of New York. That was when the Leviathans came, tearing through the buildings where they slept, dormant. That was when they made a mad dash towards the Tower and the safety of the sewers, as planned, and that was when James suffered from a heavy blast to his side. He stumbled, cursing under his breath, and clutched at the wound, palm immediately turning slick and red. “Keep going,” he groaned, picking up his pace when Tony slowed down, his throat closed up and heart about to leap out of his chest. “Go, I’ll be fine, we’re too close now!” And that was how they ended up where they were now,  curled in the farthest corner of a run-down sewer underneath the Tower, with James’ body stitching and mending itself due to the serum. The inside of Tony’s chest burned; and while, over the course of all those months that they had stayed here - they were at close to seven, if Tony remembered correctly - he had become sort of accustomed to the ever-present ache, this was something indescribable. As if someone took a piece of a burning star and shoved it where his heart was supposed to be, left it for it to burn bones and boil blood with each single one of his breaths. “Hey Tinkerbell,” James whispered, his eyes still bright, still clear, even in the damp dark they were in. Called him back from the edge, eased him away from whatever madness Tony was about to immerse himself in. Tony threaded his fingers through James’ hair again. And again.  Again, again and again, until the texture seemed stiched into his fingertips. It wasn’t exactly easy, with the way they were tightly curled around each other, pressed into the dark corner. What began as sitting side by side ended up in a tangle of limbs, the reality crashing down upon them and the chance that it may all be for naught making them reach out for each other. They kissed and kissed, soft little pecks to keep the anxiety at bay, until Tony felt like his chest was about to burst open and his heart would crack for real and oh, how gladly he would bleed out for the man underneath his mouth. Wary of the still healing wound in his side, Tony carefully climbed into James’ lap, relished the way his arms immediately came around Tony’s waist. James’ breath was warm and damp against the skin of his neck, where he pressed his nose. It was almost ironic, Tony thought, that James seemed to be his only source of comfort, of warmth right now. Not just when they were about to take on the impossible, no, but even those first hours months ago, when they had found themselves in the wasted city. James has been his comfort from the very beginning and only now did Tony realize that. “Once we get back,” Tony finally whispered into the soft, warm skin behind James’ ear, “we’ll look for a house.” “You have a house,” James mumbled, voice deceivingly sleepy for where they were and what they were about to do. “I live in it with the rest of us assholes.” “It’s not a home. We’ll - we’ll look for something together, ok? Something ours.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of James’ ear, felt an answering one at the dip of his throat. “Something small.” “You can’t do small for shit, darling.” “I’ll try, I’ll try ok?” Tony pressed closer, too aware of the slight edge of hysteria in his voice. James didn’t seem to mind, but held him more tightly. “You may need to remind me though, you know that right? ‘Cause if not, I’ll go buy the Versailles or something.” James’ laugh was the best thing, it really was, especially when it was followed by another kiss - one pressed to the hinge of Tony’s jaw this time. “Animals,” he muttered, rubbed his nose against the patchy half-beard there. “Can we get some animals?” “Yeah, yeah, sure, of course.” Tony closed his eyes because oh god, the thought of that, what they could have once they’d be back, it caused his heart to feel close to bursting. “Fucking elephants if you want to, save the ones from Thailand, you know the ones forced to give rides to tourists?” “I was thinking more of a lamb, sweet thing. Or a goat.” James looked up, eyes soft and bright and Tony wanted to cry. “Maybe a couple of those to raise? And cats that we’ll trip over and cuss out and that’ll still sleep with us in our bed.”This wasn’t fair.Not to James, not to Tony. To find something like this, so frail and precious, literally in a dead world. He pressed a kiss to the outer corner of James’ eye, felt the shaky exhale hit his cheek. “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.” He swallowed around the thick ball of something lodged in his throat. “The moment we get back, yeah? We’ll go farm hunting, something small. Just the two of us. Just for us.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Shit.” 
 
The clanging sound of the metal bar as it fell down was as powerful as a cannon shot in the eerie silence.

After waiting for hours on end, after finally crawling into what was once the interrogation area of the Tower, climbing up one of the demolished elevator shafts seemed like the best idea. Most of the patrols were still on the lower levels, combing through the ruins, hopefully looking for them closer to the vicinity of the lobby and the entrance than anywhere else.

With sweat stinging his eyes, Tony took a breath and forced his breathing to slow down. Forced his heart to dislodge itself from the tight confines of his own throat.

“Always knew you couldn’t do subtle for shit, darlin’,” James grunted from below, hefting himself up to the beam to the left. “Though, gotta say, you picked the worst time to prove it.”

“Oh,

now

you develop a sense of humor, go figure.” 
 
The walls of the shaft were covered in moss and slick with humidity, almost like it was down in the sewers. Almost familiar.

But the sewers were safe, almost felt like home, while the Tower was nothing short of a tomb, with its twisted remains and empty corners.

For a long, long moment nothing happened, as the clanging sound faded to nothing and Tony dared to believe they were safe.

And then - of course it was right there in that moment - way down below the screeching started. Tony pushed his back against the wall, flattened himself against the damp construction and braced himself against the almost physical wave of nauseating pain. The higher they went, the worse it got and any movement from the Chitauri caused the pain to flare high and bright within him. And this, this right now, was nothing he ever felt.

Whenever he closed his eyes for too long, space opened up before him, the flare of a nuke etched into his lids. If he kept them open, the world would start to swim, blur together in a spin of shadows and barely-there light.
 
“One last push,” he muttered to himself, wiping the sweat from his eyes. 
 
He felt like he was a second from falling apart.

Next to him, James looked at him as if he already had and he was unable to catch the pieces.

Tony took a breath, drew in the painfully gritty intake of air. Way above them, their ride back home lay, along with the remains of his soul. He was sure of that - despite the blinding pain, growing in its intensity, everything in him called out for that missing part, kept pulling him forward and upward, towards salvation.

He hoped it was salvation.

It couldn't be anything less, not if Tony wanted to carry on.

One last push, Tony reminded himself. To get home, to be whole. To have a chance with James for something more than a glimmer of happiness amidst the ruins.

One last push, Tony thought as if in delirium as he reached up, fingers curling on a beam, testing if it was still embedded well enough in the concrete wall. 
 
He pulled himself up, fingers catching on uneven metal and leaving bloodied prints behind. 
 
---
 
The corridor seemed to stretch for miles upon miles upon miles. A small, twisted space of burnt metal and concrete, clouds of years-old crushed glass and dust making breathing almost impossible. Each intake of air was painful; it was like shrapnel tearing nostrils apart, cutting all the way down to the lungs.

The tunnels where they had holed up seemed to have happened eons ago. The elevator climb - at least several days.

They took everything into account. They prepared, went over every scenario. They included every single variable, Tony had told himself not that long ago. Everything.  Except the wave of pain that would hit Tony as soon as he clambered out of the shaft, crying out and collapsing to his knees.

From all the way below, the screeching started up again. 
 
“Oh God, come on, doll, come on.” James held him up, made sure he steadied himself enough to stand up on both legs. “You’re so close, come on.”

The Tower rumbled with the thousands of steps, powerful feet clambering up the stairs. They barely had minutes left to make it, Tony’s brain supplied, but his body was sluggish, bones sloshed in a mix of pain and some strange detachment.

He heard the whirr-whiz of a rifle, blinked against the too bright light of the beam.

Next to him, James was already reloading, the noise-rush of a stampede getting closer. They had no chance, Tony thought and laughter bubbled out of him, literally bubbled along with thick, cloying spit. What was he thinking. Oh God, what was he thinking.

Next to him, so close and somehow oddly far away, a series of pulsating shots rang and the closest doorway crumbled. Time, giving them more time, no matter how little.

“James,” he muttered, feeling the worst kind of drunk, all daze and no fun. A blue haze called out to him, somewhere far right, pulsating and becoming. His hand felt like lead, fingers useless as he tried to gesture towards where the party deck was. 
 
His knees felt like they’d been made of damp wool when he took a step, and then two, and then they gave out when the world spun, the screeches tearing into his brain and causing his heart to shatter into thousands and thousands of shards.

His vision was blood red and somehow star bright, swimming, swimming, his body aflame and mind filled with thousands of screams. He thought he heard Rhodey, then O and Peter and he swore, and there was DUM-E’s sad little beep among them and his body folded in on itself.

Leaning suddenly forward, reaching out blindly he forced himself to stay upright. A sizzle begun to crawl up his spine, white-hot like iron pulled out from the forge, only becoming hotter with each passing minute.

Another sharp whirr-whiz as Tony took another step, his hand clutching the threadbare, flimsy material over the reactor. It too seemed to burn hot, or maybe that was Tony by then, liquid heat in his veins and about to burst like a supernova.

The deck was close, so close and even if each step felt like he was walking barefoot on coals, if with every move he felt like his mouth filled with blood and gravel both, he pushed himself forward. Each shot James took marked one step, forward, forward, stubbornly forward. 
 
The deck was empty, the passageway half destroyed by the old war.

In the dark, ever-clouded sky Leviathans rose, so many of them, the ground shaking as they broke surface and glided in the air towards the Tower. The rumble of footsteps became louder, causing the old building to vibrate and resonate and over a choked moan, Tony fell to his knees.

He knelt there for a short infinity, utterly useless, trying to catch his breath, as James barricaded the door with a metal bar. Strong hands gripped his shoulders, dragged him halfway towards the middle of the room.

“Come on, Tony,” James wheezed into his ear, trying to get him upright again. “One last push, you said it yourself, babe.  You got it, Tinkerbell, you got it.”

He stumbled forwards, feeling like the world’s worst drunk coming up for air after a binge, his body shaking and limbs unwilling to cooperate with his muddled mind.

Something blue sizzled nearby, blue and gold and so painfully inviting. Tony stumbled again, came to a stop as the world threatened to collapse around him. 
 
Or maybe it was just him, maybe it was the shake that trembled through his bones and threatened to crack them open. 
 
“Tony!” James’ voice cut through the mist, calling him back from the edge of something and Tony shook his head, fought against the wave of

pain-nausea-weary

.

He blinked the haze away, the dazzling cube of the Tesseract finally coming into focus, before he turned to James. He wanted to say something, had to say something, but he could only taste dust and blood and something sickeningly metal in his mouth.

The door rattled, the metal bar screeched as it slid lower, threatening to snap any second now. The shrieks from outside grew louder, louder, so loud they seemed to drill into Tony’s brain. They seemed to crawl up his limbs, bite into his marrow.
 
One last push. 
 
He opened his mouth and no words came and his spit was both dark and glimmering when he spat onto the floor.  The door creaked ominously, light seeping through the cracks along with the high pitched screams of the Chitauri soldiers.

“Tony, you gotta go.” James gave him one last, slight push, before he turned to the doorway.  He put the rifle to his shoulder, tucked it close and took his stance. Threw Tony one last look - and there was an icy chill in his eyes, not aimed at Tony, but

for

Tony - before splinters fell from the door.  It wouldn’t be too long now.

He wanted to reach out, to get one more kiss or touch one strong shoulder, to, -

“Go!”

Tony moved at the very same moment the Chitauri broke through, rapid gunfire ringing in his ears. 
 
And then, then it was finally over. 
 
One moment, Tony was reaching out, fingers of both hands grasping at the Tesseract and its golden bindings. The next moment, excruciating pain engulfed him. Fire burst through his skin and bone, flames settled into his marrow and spread. The bindings, - no, the tattered remains of his soul bled down his hands. He heard the roars and screeches of the Chitauri as they still poured into the chamber; managed to catch the horrifying click of the drained repulsor clip.

But most of all, Tony heard himself scream and scream and scream, bile and blood rising in his throat until he was choking on it all. His suddenly brittle lungs filled with glass dust, then constricted against another burst of pain. His chest was split open, his heart gave one last painful beat and then everything stopped.
 
---
 
Space opened up around him, stars stretching for infinity and beyond, planets and stars and moons, universes and constellations unravelling right before his eyes. He floated, took a breath full of stardust.

There was no more pain. No more fire that licked away at his bones.

He was at peace, whole.

Moments - long ones that seemed to stretch into hours - passed, as Tony’s chest rose and fell slowly.

No more pain

, echoed in his head. Finally whole, finally put back right. The galaxy whispered

I’ll keep you safe

, etched stars in place of his scars. He was a star reborn and there to stay, infinity his to grasp forever. Where space was a nightmare once, now it turned into a warm home, where murmurs of love curl around his heart, glimmered over his skin.

Nothing could ever compare to this, Tony though as  tilted his head back and took in one more breath. Looked on as a comet left a blazing trail somewhere in the distance. No. Nothing could give him such a sense of belonging.

Nothing could compare to this feeling of finally being in the right place, to this warmth that filled him, to the steady, content beat of his heart.

His space was brilliant, purple and blue and black.

The memory of James’ eyes sparked up, breezed through him like a winter’s breath. That last snow-like look James threw him. The phantom feel of metal in his hand, its taste under his lips. The sharp rub of stubble on Tony’s cheek. The weight of his hips.
 
“Tony.” Whispered in the dark, against the tremble of Tony’s lips. 
 
His heart thumped painfully in his chest as it remembered the love he found among the ruins.

“James,” Tony said, the name a blazing trail that lit up the whole universe around him. Washed away the purples and blacks, tinted what remained with ice-blue and grey.

The galaxy crashed then, down onto him in a display of light and fire and a million of stars going supernova. 
 
He felt pain once again; welcomed the labored breathing, his body all scarred skin and brittle bones. Lungs constricting, throat closing up. The taste of dust and blood in his mouth, wooden flooring under his bloodied nails.  Lights. Not many, still too bright. Artificial. He heard voices he didn’t recognize. 
 
Nervous. Yelling.

Loud. Too loud.

Too many. 
 
It was dangerous. So much noise led to patrols, patrols led to death. He tried to blink against the light, his mind coming up with images of the alien ships and labs like all bad sci-fi movies showed. 
 
“James…” He rasped over the gravel in his mouth and then there were hands on his shoulders, gentle. Holding him, -

No, patting him down.

They were soft, gentle, warm. Calloused.

Wrong.
 
Tony looked up, the weight of worlds back on his shoulders and saw Rhodey’s wide, scared eyes.

“Rhodey,” he rasped out, voice like a barbed wire on its way out of his throat. Rhodey reached out, and this time, the callouses on the inside of his palm were a familiar sensation against Tony’s cheek. A soft pat-pat, as if Tony was seventeen again and stumbling into their dorm room drunk off his feet and fucked out of his mind.

As if Tony didn’t just fall from a destroyed version of their world, his chest housing a whole, if beaten, soul once again.

Tony wanted nothing more than to pull Rhodey into the tightest hug. He wanted to wrap himself around his brother and only a sliver of a returned vanity stopped him. After all these months, he must have been a sight. And quite a smell, probably; they’d skipped the showers in the last few days.  He craved a proper shower, a shave, a change of fresh clothes.

And he could have those now.

He choked in relief, tears stinging his eyes. He could draw in a breath, feel whole. He was home now, where he belonged and so he looked up, tired, so tired, found Rhodey’s eyes and saw the worry in them.

Good ol’ platypus, always such a worrier.
 
“Tones, you ok? You blacked out there for a second.”
 
Tony shook his head, felt some sort of half-hysterical half-relieved laugh start to form in the back of his throat. He heard Steve somewhere behind him, voice too high and words too fast for Tony to decipher just yet. It felt so good to be back, something he still didn’t fully believe in, but there was Wong coming in, and Strange’s cape was already fluttering around Tony.

God, he’d even missed that annoying piece of clothing.

And then Rhodey’s words registered, knocked all remaining breath out of his lungs. Panic bubbled in the back of his mind and his heart threatened to smash through his frail ribs.
 
“What?”

“I think you better sit down, Tones, you’re looking a lil’ pale still. C’mon man, here, let's go.” Rhodey was helping him stand up, leading him towards one of the chairs further into the room.

He dared a look over his shoulder, caught a glimpse of James’ body, unconscious and still, Steve’s voice bordering on frantic as Strange was looking over the soldier. The hot burning of relief was instantly washed away and fear turned his blood cold, lodging itself in his throat as a thick, ugly ball of

something

.

“What do you mean, for a second?” he asked, hand curled around Rhodey’s sleeve so hard he could see his knuckles turning white. “Rhodey, what the hell happened?”

The worry in Rhodey’s eyes gave way to confusion, as he gently urged Tony to sit down.

“Strange’s spell hit you and you went down like a goddamn Jenga. Barnes collapsed a few minutes later and literally seconds after that, you woke up again, screaming bloody murder.”

“Minutes?” he rasped, hands clenching on the armrests, fingertips digging into the fine wood. 
 
No.

It couldn't.

This, -

This was too cruel.  
 
“Tones,

Tones

.” There was Rhodey’s hand again against his cheek, gentle and grounding, giving him a little pat. “Come on man, talk to me.”

“It felt longer.” There was an edge of hysteria in Tony’s voice, because those were months but now it seemed it was just minutes. “Much, much longer.”

Wasn’t it longer?

Was it even real?

It felt real, but if it was only a couple of minutes, then, - then it couldn't have been. Carol walked up then, before Tony could locate Strange, her eyes tight with worry. She blew a tuft of hair out of her face, her hand coming down onto Tony’s shoulder.

“We need to get back right now, Jim.” Her grip tightened for a second, a clear sign of comfort if Tony ever saw one from her,  a warm touch that seeped into his frozen bones. She was looking at Rhodey, her jaw clenched tight and Tony felt nauseous all of the sudden. “We gotta check them both into Medical. I don’t know what that spell was and I’m so glad Tony seems safe, but Barnes is still not waking up and Strange isn’t able to explain. I ain’t taking any chances with my team.”

“Yeah,” Rhodey nodded, “let’s get them checked out.”

Tony allowed himself to be led out of the room, his legs surprisingly steady.  It was almost funny, how numb he felt. Last he remembered was pain and pain only. With Rhodey’s hand at the small of his back he walked away slowly. 
 
He dared to throw only one look over his shoulder.

He saw Steve and Sam both heft James’ unconscious body up, one arm around each of their shoulders, the man more of a ragdoll than a supersoldier.

He wasn’t responding to anything, not the calls of his name nor the jostling.

The cloak waved him bye-bye, the door closed and Tony’s heart sunk.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Tony?” 
 
Three days. It took three days for someone to step down into the workshop.

Apparently, that was all he got before someone decided to lure him out of his engineering, slightly chaotic haven. Go figure that they’d call in the big guns and ask Pepper to drag him out by the scruff.

“Pepper, Pep, the light of my life, the apple of my eye, what can I help you with?” Tony flashed her a smile as he twirled on his stool, playing with the screwdriver in his hand as if to make a point.

To show how busy he was, nothing else. He was a very busy man after all.

“Jim’s been telling me you’ve pretty much holed yourself up in here.” The way she walked down the stairs, so perfectly balanced and graceful on those heels of hers, it was such a familiar sight that Tony couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu.

Before, during and even after their relationship fizzled out, Pepper always floated down to check on him, a smile on her lips that never managed to quell the worry in her eyes. It was downright humbling and made Tony’s tired heart beat a little faster. She was one of the most important people in Tony’s life and so,

so

busy, thanks to him nonetheless, and she still would find the time to come by.

He shrugged, hoped it came off more careless than rude, flashed her one more smile that seemed to stretch and tug at his mouth uncomfortably.

“You know how my life is, Pep. Projects to do, deadlines to meet, beautifully scary CEOs to satisfy.”
 
A world to hide from. Dreams to forget. Feelings to bury underneath tons of work, under a heap of lies that everything was fine. Memories to acknowledge that were not memories at all, but spell-spurred illusions at best, cruel nightmares at worst.

Broken heart to take apart even further, poke at each piece as if it were a festering wound.

Pick at the scabs, never let it heal.

Rinse and repeat and rinse and repeat over and over again.
 
As stated, Tony had a lot of work to do. 
 
Pepper tilted her head at him, that gentle smile of hers causing his heart to bleed further. Tony took a good, long look at her, thought about the way she always stood there at his side, even when he didn’t want her to. Even when he didn’t know he

did

want her to. About the way she always knew what to say to him, be soft or harsh and to stubbornly guide him back home.

Pepper Potts didn’t deserve his lies and Tony’s shoulders slumped further in silent permission for her to say her piece.

“They told me the spell worked,” there was unlimited kindness in her voice because Pepper was a good person and just because they were not together anymore, there was no need for animosity between them.

Tony had long ago acknowledged that he would always love Pepper. She was too big a part of his life to deserve anything less than to be loved, even if it was not the kind of love that they had both wanted at one point of their time and that he had not deserved until now.

Though slowly, lately,  Tony began to wonder, did he deserve it at all, or was he just supposed to have it dangled before his nose and snatched away as soon as he reached out for it? Was he supposed to be allowed a taste, only to remain without it a moment later?

“Apparently.” Before the silence became too much, he aimed for a smile, missed by a mile and tapped over his heart with his hand. “Old soul’s back in its rightful place.”

“Oh,

Tony.

”

“I’m fine, Pep.” He grabbed her hands - those small, delicate, impossibly strong hands that could hold the world - and gave them a light squeeze. “I’ve been magic-whammied, and you know I fucking hate magic. I just need a little bit of science and technology to get back my groove.”

She sighed, clearly not buying his reassurances. For a second, Tony was sure she’d press further in that gentle, unyielding ways of her, but before she could, FRIDAY spoke out.

“Boss, uh, there’s a bit of- of a commotion going down in Medical.”

She sounded so uncertain, so unlike herself that Tony dropped Pepper’s hands as if they were hot coals. His throat worked once, twice, swallowing over a ball of something tight and cold and sickly. James - no, he was Barnes, Tony scolded himself, they were back in their world and Tony had no right to call him James anymore - Barnes had been in Medical for the last three days, his vitals steady and strong; but he’d remained unconscious, thanks to whatever Strange’s spell did to him. Clearly, it was something different than what it did to Tony, because Tony was out for five minutes, and that too meant…

It meant, -

Tony shook his head, forced himself to remember that in the medical wing, Steve remained at Barnes’ side, like the ever-faithful watchdog, probably doing an amazing job at worrying himself sick. 
 
Tony had no right or reason to be there. Tony didn’t even dare to ask FRIDAY about Barnes’ status, not to mention to bring up a feed from his room. 
 
He was fine, after all, and Barnes would surely be fine too as soon as he woke up. When he woke up because Tony did not for one second believe otherwise. If anything, his shitty luck demanded that Barnes was awake and looking at him with distrust in his eyes; the memory of soft touches and gentle kisses a mockery.

He, Tony admitted to himself, might have become a bitter man without fully realizing it.

“What sort of commotion?” he asked over a sigh.

“Sergeant Barnes has awakened a while ago,” FRIDAY answered and Tony almost felt dizzy at the way his heart lurched inside of his chest. “He’s trying to leave the room without being properly discharged. Mister Rogers has been trying to placate him for the last hour, but all of my readings and analysis of the situation leads me to believe it will not end well.”

“FRIDAY,” Pepper frowned, eyes dimming, and Tony would feel a flare of pride that she could get so protective of him on any other day. “Tony barely has anything to do with them anymore. You can’t ask him to mediate in affairs that are of no importance to his or SI’s well-being.”

His stomach twisted painfully, breath caught sharply inside of his battered lungs. Pepper’s words cut deep, clean, drew blood like nothing before ever did.

Of no importance.

Of course. It had to,- it was nothing, it wasn’t important in her eyes. It was just a spell. Tony swallowed thickly, ignoring the way pain flared bright and hot inside of his chest. It was nothing, he repeated to himself.

It was almost like when his soul was half-way gone just a couple of days ago, only so, so much worse.

“I’m sorry Miss Potts, but Sergeant Barnes has been quite insistent on seeing Boss from the moment he woke up.” And she did sound apologetic and Tony couldn’t blame her for the confusion. “His blood pressure is heightened, heartbeat elevated and all of his body language is leaning towards violent, and I am afraid Medical is not equipped well enough to handle two enhanced soldiers going at it, as the phrase goes, should things escalate any further.”

“Tony, you don’t have to go there.” Pepper turned back to him immediately, reaching out to place one hand on his shoulder. “You don’t owe them a single thing, not anymore.”

The tight line of her lips and the sudden sharp glint in her eyes were for his benefit. Yes, she was displeased with the news, but even more, she was worried and dead-set on protecting Tony from any sort of potential fallout. 
 
Pepper Potts could, and would, destroy anyone if she ever willed it.

To have her on his side, he was reminded once again, was a humbling feeling. 
 
With a sigh, Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes. He didn’t want to go to Medical. He didn’t want to see Steve, didn’t want to answer any questions he surely had to have. And he sure as hell didn’t want to see Barnes right now.  The memory of

them

was too fresh in his mind, his skin tingling from phantom touches all the fucking time.

But perhaps it was the exact thing he needed to do to get himself over this. A ‘pull the band-aid off in one move’ sort of thing.

“It’s ok, Pep.” He sighed again, pushing himself from the stool. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see what Robocop wants, nod along, probably piss Rogers off while I'm at it and then I’ll come back here.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Ever loyal, ever brave. God, how did he get so lucky that he still managed to keep her?

“That’s ok.” Tony offered her a smile and it didn’t feel as strained as he feared it would. “I’ll be ok. You have a world to run.”

Her mouth flattened further, her shoulders squared. But Pepper was Pepper and between one blink and another, she sighed and nodded her head.
 
“Is that all, Mister Stark?”

“That is all, Miss Potts.”
 
Tony watched her leave, buying himself a few more minutes. The soft click-clack of Pepper’s heels soon faded into nothing and there was not one thing left to distract him.

“Alright, FRI. Let them know I’m coming.”

“Already did, Boss.” She paused for a second, and then, “Colonel Rhodes and Captain Danvers have also been notified; they will reach Medical in five minutes.”

Oh crap, crap. Literal Big Guns called in, capital letters and all. “Dammit FRI, no,” Tony muttered as FRIDAY opened the doors to the elevator as soon as he stepped up to them, the button to the floor where Medical was already lit.

“When it comes to the matter of your safety and well-being, my protocols allow me to undertake any measures I deem necessary to ensure nothing will come to harm you in any way.” FRIDAY was as dead serious as an AI could ever be and Tony didn’t know if he should feel terrified or proud.

Perhaps a bit of both.

Definitely bit of both.

Go figure that the women in his life, hot-blooded and blue-coded both, were a force to be reckoned with.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Rhodey, I swear to god, baby girl, you need to lighten up a bit!” Chewing on his lip was an ugly habit of his, one that always ended up with Tony tasting his own blood, and this time was no exception.

He drew a little bit of comfort from the sting and the taste of copper, desperately tried not to recall the memory of Ja-

Barnes

wiping a thumb over his bleeding lip and gently scolding him for it.

Tony briefly wondered what he could expect as the lights changed, floors passing them by. 
 
He didn’t know what to expect. 
 
If FRI called in both Rhodey and Carol, it meant that Barnes was a real threat. Code Red Threat, nothing short of him going full-on Winter Soldier and tearing down the doors. Perhaps that was it. Did the spell reverse all the hard work that was put into getting rid of the triggers? Did it reverse him to the shell of a human, a gun to point and shoot?

Tony had been on HYDRA’s radar for a long time and even if there had never been any orders or hits issued, the Winter Soldier

knew

how much of an asset (

oh God, worst pun ever, not now Tony, not now

) Tony would be.

“Well, guess I’m about to find out how much shit has hit the fan,” he muttered to himself when the soft beep announced their arrival on the floor.

The staff was in an uproar, and rightfully so; shouts and orders, the clutter of metal could have been heard the moment Tony stepped off the elevator. Steve’s voice above it all, pleading for Barnes to calm down, to be reasonable.
 
Jesus fuck, what was Tony willingly getting into?
 
“...due respect, Colonel,” he heard Barnes’ hiss and a shiver ran down his spine, because that was a goddamn

death threat

if he ever heard one, “But I will put you all through the damn wall if you don’t…”

“If I don’t

what

, soldier?” All things aside, Rhodey’s snap was a thing of beauty and Tony had yet to meet a man or woman who would not cower.

He didn’t want to wait and see if Barnes was an exception to that rule, though Tony suspected he would be. Alas, the staff around the medical wing was freaked out enough as it was, and there was no need to add some sort of male posturing showdown on top of it all. Especially not if Tony could be the one to stop it.

Well. Time to put up one hell of a show.

He took a deep breath and straightened his back.
 
“Easy, easy, what’s going on?” He opened the door, his smile painfully bright and causing his cheeks to ache. 
 
Rhodey turned to him immediately, that stone-cold fury giving way to worry for a brief second. His eyes scanned Tony up and down - assessing - before he turned his back on Tony again. Turned his attention to the issue at hand; where Steve was still talking, voice gentle and somehow still grating on Tony’s ears, where Barnes was a second from tearing the room down.

Tony’s gaze then landed on Barnes properly and it was like being suspended in space all over again; it was that first a moment of peace, a spark of finally being whole and then pain crashing down, tearing through his heart. His lungs constricted, breathing forgotten, and Tony wanted nothing more than to be back in that godforsaken place they had left.

Because it had been three days and only now the world seemed to finally regain its focus and the air was finally breathable again, as he stared into those winter-tinted eyes, as he saw the heavy frown he could smooth out with just his fingertips if he was allowed. 
 
Oh God, how he missed him. 
 
It took him a second to realize Barnes was staring right back at him, eyes wide and dangerously wild. Steve was right beside him, arms raised in what probably was a clear and calming gesture, his open palms up and shoulders lowered. Trying to talk him down from whatever violent thing he threatened to do.

Rhodey and Carol were more than ready to put Barnes down if the bright, all-too-familiar flare around Carol’s hands was anything to go by. Yeah, Tony sighed, they probably really did think that he fell back into HYDRA programming or something of the sort, with valid reasons for it, too - magic was an unknown and Barnes got whammied with Strange’s spell after all. And it’s not like Barnes and Tony interacted at all outside of missions or when they were not fighting the good fight.

Quite the opposite, they made sure to stay out of each other’s ways and everyone knew that. There was no love lost between James Barnes and Tony Stark and no reason for Barnes to seek him out right now.

“FRIDAY said you wanted to see me.” He put a hand on Rhodey’s shoulder. He couldn’t tell if it was to reassure his friend or to ground himself. Both, perhaps. He gave Barnes a curt nod, took a breath and a few steps forward, Rhodey’s body heat clinging to his fingertips. “Well it’s your lucky day, I’m here. So, Murder Cube, talk.”
 
There was a flicker of

something

on Barnes’ face, something that caused a tendril of hope to flare bright and sudden inside of Tony’s chest before he stomped down on it. Hope was a treacherous thing. Hope didn’t bring anything good anymore and Tony was so damn tired of shit happening to him all of the damned time.

He deserved a goddamn break.

Steve looked torn, standing between them, clearly not knowing whether he was supposed to calm his best friend down or protect him from whatever Tony could do. Not that Tony could do anything, not that he

would

do anything.

And then he saw that half-furious look on Barnes’ face melt away,  his brows relaxing. Those broad shoulders slumping in what was clear relief, his whole body losing that awful rigidness, unraveling from underneath the tension, last Winter’s snow melted away under Spring’s sun.

And then he opened his mouth. 
 
“They said I was out three days. Please, for the love of God, tell me that you

didn’t

buy the Versailles while I was stuck here.” 
 
His voice was gentle, so different than the snarl from five minutes ago and so achingly familiar. And then,

then

Tony’s brain registered the words spoken and came to a screeching halt.

Tony’s hand fell back to his side, his breath hitching.

He tasted blood and stardust on his tongue again, heard shouted orders echoed in the back of his head. A small sound lodged itself in his throat, threatened to choke him. He managed to catch Rhodey’s surprised look but by then Tony was already moving. There were less than three steps between them and Tony needed all of them gone. Steve was unceremoniously pushed away, by either of them and hell if Tony couldn't care less.

Both flesh and metal hands reached out for him, arms wrapping around him and holding too tight, too close but and perfect and Tony never wanted to let go.

“Oh God,

James

.” He choked into the thin fabric of the hospital dress, felt James’ harsh breathing against his neck. His own hands tightened over his back, clutching onto the clothing like it was a lifeline.  He breathed in the scent of the septic soap that clung to James’ skin, his body shaking like a goddamn leaf.

It was real. It was all real and all he could do was hold on tighter.
 
“What the everloving hell?” 
 
Rhodey didn’t even aim for a whisper and with some minuscule part of his brain - one that was by some miracle not focused on James - Tony couldn’t blame him.

He’d have to explain things, relive all of them all over again, Tony knew. And he would.

They

would. They would sit down, with everyone, and explain, day by day. But it had to wait for another time, because now, all he could do was burrow further into the way James held him, tight and possessive as if nothing in this world would make him let go.

He was more than fine with that. He didn’t want to let go, either.

“I thought it wasn’t...,” Tony breathed out finally, felt James’ fingers dig into his back. Holding on, holding tighter. “Oh my God, I thought… three fucking days, you dick,” he hiccuped, eyes blurring with tears and dammit, he would not cry. 
 
Stark men were made of iron and Tony Stark himself was reforged with stardust, remade with galaxies at his core. 
 
“ ‘m sorry, I- I might have gotten a little lost along the way,” James whispered against his temple, pressed a lingering kiss there, nose buried in Tony’s hair.

Steve started to say something, but only God knew what, as Tony could only concentrate on the steady heartbeat he could hear underneath his ear. He felt James raise his head an inch or two, stubbled chin digging into the top of Tony’s head.

Finally, he registered the others’ presence as he heard Carol demand answers. Feeling his cheeks warm up, Tony twisted to throw a look over his shoulder. Carol, bless her pretty glowy soul, looked baffled at most.

The same couldn’t be said about Rhodey and Steve, though, and Tony forced himself to clear his throat.

“You, ah, mind giving the two of us a moment?”

“No, just, no,” Steve protested and Rhodey accompanied him immediately with, “Like hell, I’m leaving you two alone.”

Well if they wanted to watch, who was Tony to stop them?

He took a breath, turned his attention to the man in his arms. It felt like the very first one he managed to take, ever since he woke up on the Sanctum’s floor all remade and whole. The raw relief in James’ eyes felt almost palpable. Inside of him, something settled, as if gentle fingers rearranged the scattered pieces of his heart back together.  The smile he received was shaky at best and the metal hand that cupped his cheek was so achingly gentle.

“Lost along the way, you overgrown buffoon,” Tony whispered, as his chest seemed suddenly too full, his heart too close to bursting. “Just admit you stared at the pretty stars because that’s what you did, didn’t you?”

The voices of their friends fell away into a mere hum and their world shrunk to the scarce space between them when James laughed, the sound warm and honey-thick.

“Got me there, Tinkerbell. It was peaceful and quiet there, without everyone yappin’.” His thumb brushed underneath Tony’s lower lip, traced the faintest tremble of a smile. “But I told ya, didn’t I? Told ya that I’ll keep choosing you.”
 
Supernovas exploded within his heart, big and bright, burning between them. Tony laughed, the sound bubbling out of him without his consent. He knew what James felt - the neverending peace, the soft warmth of galaxies as the stars offered comfort and a safe haven. But no infinity, no universe could ever match up to this, he thought.

To him and James in a world where they were supposed to be.

Where they rose from the ruins and came back strong and together.

“You did, yeah.” He grabbed hold of the back of James’ neck, fingers pressing into the skin, pulling him down. “So how about you fucking choose to kiss me right now - you made me wait three days.”

And so, huffing out a fond, amused laugh, James seemed to do the only thing he could.
 
Chose to kiss Tony, right there and then. 
 
The world finally aligned and with his arms around James’ neck - Tony was finally home.