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therobotmuse) wrote2008-10-30 08:57 pm
therobotmuse) wrote2008-10-30 08:57 pm
Marvel: Amazed
Title Amazed
Rating PG-13
Fandom Marvel
Pairing? Slash; Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Word Count 1530
Genre Angst. A lot.
Disclaimer I own none of these characters
Summary Halloween Prompt: Haunted Stark Tower: Tony's been seeing things...
Author's Note Thank you to my lovely betas![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pensive1 and dorothy1901. I meant my Halloween story to be a bit more happy, seeing as I seem to post nothing but angst :/ Ah well, this is what came to me.
BONUS! It's also a song fic! Amazed by Poe
Amazed
When the Extremis had first begun to show Tony the images of his dead loved ones--images so real he could smell the decay on their bodies--it had frightened him. He had thought that perhaps they would drive him mad (or, he supposed, more mad than he already was, depending on whom you asked). But once he and Doc Samson had realized that the images were the result of his subconscious trying to bring information to his attention, he felt slightly better.
Turning around and seeing, say, Happy--or even his mother on occasion--still scared the shit out of him, but then his rational mind would take over and he would tell himself that they were there to help. And, inevitably, they would pass on whatever detail he had missed and then they would be gone a second later.
It was a rather unexpected and unsettling aspect of the Extremis, but, he had to admit, it was good to see some of the people who had been missing from his life for years. It occurred to him once how pathetic that was, but he didn't linger on it.
Several weeks of these visions passed before he realized there was one person that he saw constantly, but almost never seemed to have any relevant information to give him: Steve Rogers.
Tony would see Steve in the most mundane of places: the Helicarrier mess hall, the lobby of Stark Tower, the coffee shop across the street from where his AA group met, and only about half of these times did Steve have anything to tell him. The other times, he would just be there, sometimes completely unaware of Tony's presence. And the thing was, Tony wasn't at all uncomfortable with this.
Truth be told, it made Tony feel as though Steve was still alive. Alive and well without Tony in his life -- exactly how he had imagined it would have been after the civil war had settled down.
And Tony was okay with it.
It wasn't until Steve appeared in Tony's private room in the Stark Tower that he was not okay with it.
He was waiting for him – something the real Steve had done on occasion. The room was dark and Tony hadn't bothered to turn on the light before he undid his tie and kicked off his shoes. When he looked at the desk chair where he usually tossed his crumpled jacket, he let out a noise that was no doubt similar to the noise a small girl would make if someone threw a bucket of cold water on her. And Steve, the bastard, just smiled.
Tony swore, holding his chest, certain he was having another one of his heart attacks.
“I thought you'd be used to this by now.” Steve observed him with some interest, knowing that Tony was, in fact, not going into cardiac arrest. He knew this, of course, because he was inside Tony's damned head.
Tony glared at him, weakly making his way over to the bed and collapsing onto the edge of the mattress.
“If this is a bad time,” Steve relaxed in the chair, “I can come back.”
“You know damn well it's a bad time,” Tony told the illusion--told himself-- “It's aways a bad time.”
To his surprise, Steve looked hurt. Tony told himself it was his subconscious manifesting, and that he shouldn't feel bad about hurting the feelings of a manifestation. But he did.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered, looking at the floor. He waited for a response, but when none came, he looked up. Steve was gone.
-----
It had been a week since that night and Tony hadn't seen Steve. He paid special attention everywhere he went, looking for that blond hair and those broad shoulders that made him stand out in a crowd. But he was nowhere to be found, not even at the damned coffee shop.
Tony knew he should feel stupid about missing a hallucination. But he couldn't help feeling like he had messed up again, that he had lost Steve for a second time by making a damned idiot out of himself. That this fake Steve had gone out into oblivion thinking Tony hated him, just like the real Steve had.
Tony walked out of the AA meeting feeling only slightly less like he was going to take a drink. He had felt on edge since Nick Fury had first given him the early draft of the Registration Act. Thank God Sue had stopped him. And thank God he had been too busy after the war ended to even think about diving into a bottle.
“Is now a better time?”
Again, Tony was certain he let out a girlishly embarrassing noise when he heard the voice. And, again, there Steve was, back in that desk chair, that stupid grin back on his face. Bastard.
“Yeah, sure,” Tony calmed himself, trying not to sound too relieved that the fake Steve hadn't left him yet.
“You need a break,” Steve said simply, watching Tony move about the room gathering various articles of clothing and shedding others.
Tony snorted, hanging up his suit jacket. “So what part of my subconscious are you the embodiment of, exactly? Because it seems like you're the part that tells me shit I already know.”
“The part that worries about your well-being,” came Steve's reply, a hint of humor in his voice.
“Oh, and here I was thinking my mind hated me,” Tony muttered, slipping a nightshirt over his head.
He turned back to the room only to smack into the wall that was Steve. Good lord, the Extremis had gone to extra lengths to make this seem real. He could actually smell and feel Steve. Steve smiled at him. He felt his face go hot.
Oh God, he was blushing. Blushing at a damned hallucination.
Tony pushed away from Steve, who was chuckling. He needed to get out of this room, he needed to get some air. He made for the door, but fake Steve grabbed his arm.
“Running's not going to make this go away,” Steve told him, and cutting off Tony's next thought, he added, “And neither will a drink.”
Steve pulled Tony back into him. Tony tried punching, kicking, pushing, shoving, everything he could to get away, but Steve had always been stronger than Tony. Especially now that he was part of Tony's own mind. And Tony had never been very good at fighting his own mind.
“No, just, please, go away. I don't want--”
Tony's sputtering were cut off by Steve catching his lips with his own. The kiss was deep and intense and made something within him leap – exactly how Tony had always imagined it, of course. His body went numb as he gave in completely and even this perfect illusion could not keep him standing.
Tony collapsed to his knees, feeling the rug bite into them. Steve was by his side in an instant, holding his shoulders as he sobbed.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Tony said quietly once his self-control returned to him.
“Because you need a break.” Steve smiled weakly, compassion and concern painting his handsome, beautiful, gorgeous face. “And this was the best way to get your attention.” Steve lifted Tony's chin so he was looking at him. “And because I care about you.”
Tony couldn't help but laugh, cheeks still wet and feeling like a fool. “You're just trying to make me feel better now. You know that's not true.”
Steve's brow wrinkled. “You don't know that for sure.”
“Yes I do.” Tony grinned at how purely stupid he could be sometimes. “Sharon Carter's child is proof enough of that.”
Steve's face contorted. He shook his head, “Tony,” he sighed so very Steve-like, “just because I didn't sleep with you doesn't mean I don't care about what you do to yourself.”
Tony was silent. He gazed at the carpet fiber through blurry eyes. He couldn't deny how simply amazing the human mind could be sometimes, especially one that had been enhanced by experimental nanites.
“Tony,” Steve said softly, kissing him on the forehead, “take a break. The coast is nice this time of year.”
Doc Samson would have a field day if Tony ever told him about this. He resolved never to do such a thing.
-----
Tony had to admit the ocean air was refreshing as a breeze passed over him. As was the look of disbelief when he told his secretary pool--as well as Maria Hill--that he was going on vacation (he noted that Dugan looked rather relieved at the news).
He was parked in a small outcrop off the road labeled “Scenic Overlook” by the park services. He looked out over the water, watching it break against the jagged cliffs. He reluctantly admitted that it was nice to be away from everything, to just stop thinking for a while.
“Told you,” Tony could hear the smile in Steve's voice.
“No one likes a smart ass,” Tony replied, still staring straight ahead.
Tony could feel that grin. He told himself it wasn't real, but he couldn't help but smile at himself.
Rating PG-13
Fandom Marvel
Pairing? Slash; Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Word Count 1530
Genre Angst. A lot.
Disclaimer I own none of these characters
Summary Halloween Prompt: Haunted Stark Tower: Tony's been seeing things...
Author's Note Thank you to my lovely betas
pensive1 and dorothy1901. I meant my Halloween story to be a bit more happy, seeing as I seem to post nothing but angst :/ Ah well, this is what came to me.BONUS! It's also a song fic! Amazed by Poe
Amazed
When the Extremis had first begun to show Tony the images of his dead loved ones--images so real he could smell the decay on their bodies--it had frightened him. He had thought that perhaps they would drive him mad (or, he supposed, more mad than he already was, depending on whom you asked). But once he and Doc Samson had realized that the images were the result of his subconscious trying to bring information to his attention, he felt slightly better.
Turning around and seeing, say, Happy--or even his mother on occasion--still scared the shit out of him, but then his rational mind would take over and he would tell himself that they were there to help. And, inevitably, they would pass on whatever detail he had missed and then they would be gone a second later.
It was a rather unexpected and unsettling aspect of the Extremis, but, he had to admit, it was good to see some of the people who had been missing from his life for years. It occurred to him once how pathetic that was, but he didn't linger on it.
Several weeks of these visions passed before he realized there was one person that he saw constantly, but almost never seemed to have any relevant information to give him: Steve Rogers.
Tony would see Steve in the most mundane of places: the Helicarrier mess hall, the lobby of Stark Tower, the coffee shop across the street from where his AA group met, and only about half of these times did Steve have anything to tell him. The other times, he would just be there, sometimes completely unaware of Tony's presence. And the thing was, Tony wasn't at all uncomfortable with this.
Truth be told, it made Tony feel as though Steve was still alive. Alive and well without Tony in his life -- exactly how he had imagined it would have been after the civil war had settled down.
And Tony was okay with it.
It wasn't until Steve appeared in Tony's private room in the Stark Tower that he was not okay with it.
He was waiting for him – something the real Steve had done on occasion. The room was dark and Tony hadn't bothered to turn on the light before he undid his tie and kicked off his shoes. When he looked at the desk chair where he usually tossed his crumpled jacket, he let out a noise that was no doubt similar to the noise a small girl would make if someone threw a bucket of cold water on her. And Steve, the bastard, just smiled.
Tony swore, holding his chest, certain he was having another one of his heart attacks.
“I thought you'd be used to this by now.” Steve observed him with some interest, knowing that Tony was, in fact, not going into cardiac arrest. He knew this, of course, because he was inside Tony's damned head.
Tony glared at him, weakly making his way over to the bed and collapsing onto the edge of the mattress.
“If this is a bad time,” Steve relaxed in the chair, “I can come back.”
“You know damn well it's a bad time,” Tony told the illusion--told himself-- “It's aways a bad time.”
To his surprise, Steve looked hurt. Tony told himself it was his subconscious manifesting, and that he shouldn't feel bad about hurting the feelings of a manifestation. But he did.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered, looking at the floor. He waited for a response, but when none came, he looked up. Steve was gone.
-----
It had been a week since that night and Tony hadn't seen Steve. He paid special attention everywhere he went, looking for that blond hair and those broad shoulders that made him stand out in a crowd. But he was nowhere to be found, not even at the damned coffee shop.
Tony knew he should feel stupid about missing a hallucination. But he couldn't help feeling like he had messed up again, that he had lost Steve for a second time by making a damned idiot out of himself. That this fake Steve had gone out into oblivion thinking Tony hated him, just like the real Steve had.
Tony walked out of the AA meeting feeling only slightly less like he was going to take a drink. He had felt on edge since Nick Fury had first given him the early draft of the Registration Act. Thank God Sue had stopped him. And thank God he had been too busy after the war ended to even think about diving into a bottle.
“Is now a better time?”
Again, Tony was certain he let out a girlishly embarrassing noise when he heard the voice. And, again, there Steve was, back in that desk chair, that stupid grin back on his face. Bastard.
“Yeah, sure,” Tony calmed himself, trying not to sound too relieved that the fake Steve hadn't left him yet.
“You need a break,” Steve said simply, watching Tony move about the room gathering various articles of clothing and shedding others.
Tony snorted, hanging up his suit jacket. “So what part of my subconscious are you the embodiment of, exactly? Because it seems like you're the part that tells me shit I already know.”
“The part that worries about your well-being,” came Steve's reply, a hint of humor in his voice.
“Oh, and here I was thinking my mind hated me,” Tony muttered, slipping a nightshirt over his head.
He turned back to the room only to smack into the wall that was Steve. Good lord, the Extremis had gone to extra lengths to make this seem real. He could actually smell and feel Steve. Steve smiled at him. He felt his face go hot.
Oh God, he was blushing. Blushing at a damned hallucination.
Tony pushed away from Steve, who was chuckling. He needed to get out of this room, he needed to get some air. He made for the door, but fake Steve grabbed his arm.
“Running's not going to make this go away,” Steve told him, and cutting off Tony's next thought, he added, “And neither will a drink.”
Steve pulled Tony back into him. Tony tried punching, kicking, pushing, shoving, everything he could to get away, but Steve had always been stronger than Tony. Especially now that he was part of Tony's own mind. And Tony had never been very good at fighting his own mind.
“No, just, please, go away. I don't want--”
Tony's sputtering were cut off by Steve catching his lips with his own. The kiss was deep and intense and made something within him leap – exactly how Tony had always imagined it, of course. His body went numb as he gave in completely and even this perfect illusion could not keep him standing.
Tony collapsed to his knees, feeling the rug bite into them. Steve was by his side in an instant, holding his shoulders as he sobbed.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Tony said quietly once his self-control returned to him.
“Because you need a break.” Steve smiled weakly, compassion and concern painting his handsome, beautiful, gorgeous face. “And this was the best way to get your attention.” Steve lifted Tony's chin so he was looking at him. “And because I care about you.”
Tony couldn't help but laugh, cheeks still wet and feeling like a fool. “You're just trying to make me feel better now. You know that's not true.”
Steve's brow wrinkled. “You don't know that for sure.”
“Yes I do.” Tony grinned at how purely stupid he could be sometimes. “Sharon Carter's child is proof enough of that.”
Steve's face contorted. He shook his head, “Tony,” he sighed so very Steve-like, “just because I didn't sleep with you doesn't mean I don't care about what you do to yourself.”
Tony was silent. He gazed at the carpet fiber through blurry eyes. He couldn't deny how simply amazing the human mind could be sometimes, especially one that had been enhanced by experimental nanites.
“Tony,” Steve said softly, kissing him on the forehead, “take a break. The coast is nice this time of year.”
Doc Samson would have a field day if Tony ever told him about this. He resolved never to do such a thing.
-----
Tony had to admit the ocean air was refreshing as a breeze passed over him. As was the look of disbelief when he told his secretary pool--as well as Maria Hill--that he was going on vacation (he noted that Dugan looked rather relieved at the news).
He was parked in a small outcrop off the road labeled “Scenic Overlook” by the park services. He looked out over the water, watching it break against the jagged cliffs. He reluctantly admitted that it was nice to be away from everything, to just stop thinking for a while.
“Told you,” Tony could hear the smile in Steve's voice.
“No one likes a smart ass,” Tony replied, still staring straight ahead.
Tony could feel that grin. He told himself it wasn't real, but he couldn't help but smile at himself.
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great fic
And, again, there Steve was, back in that desk chair, that stupid grin back on his face. after making Tony scream like a little girl, who would not grin?
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This is a great fic. Steve's voice as Tony's subconscious rings so true, the blush and Steve saying he still cared about Tony even if they hadn't slept together, how it's all Tony anyway :fkjgad sometimes you just need to hear things for it to really hit home.
I am glad he took that vacation but man :C Steve needs to come back.
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Which, I suppose, is the point.
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Lovely and so... melancholy. The idea of Tony welcoming his hallucinations because he gets the chance to see his dead loved ones... so heartbreaking.
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Thank you for sharing. :-)
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o_o It's embarrassing, but I feel the need to tell people that if the achieve it.
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Thanks -- I don't know if my writing's ever made someone cry before :D Is it weird that I'm happy about it?
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