Drabbles: Gleevengers
The following two stories are Glee Crossovers set in the Avengers Universse. It goes with the trope that Blaine is actually Tony Stark's son. These contain spoilers for Avengers, if you haven't seen don't read.
This all started with a prompt: "I just really want a fic from that scene from The Avengers where Tony tried to call Pepper but instead he’s trying to call Blaine!!"
Nick thought he was volatile. Agent Coulson had called him self-centered. Steve accused him of being selfish because he wasn’t the guy that would lie on the wire. First of all, who lied down on wires anymore? What did grandpa know about how things worked nowadays? Just because he was smarter than them in every conceivable way… just because he was the guy that could cut the wire… that didn’t make him selfish. It just made him resourceful. Oh, and rich. Incredibly rich.
And in any other situation, in any other city, he would figure out another option. But he couldn’t risk New York. God, not New York. Not now that Blaine went to school a few blocks away, and he hoped his son had listened to him when he ordered that private jet for him. Because he wasn’t Blaine’s favorite person in the world, and their relationship had been rough over the years, but this was important. He shuttered to think of what could be happening to his son right now if he was still in the city. He should have texted him before he confronted Loki. A good father would have made sure that his son had left town before it was overrun by strange alien cyborgs.
Maybe Nick and Agent Coulson were right about him. He had no business being in the Avengers. Maybe Steve was right. There were plenty of men not anywhere near as accomplished as him, but still worth so much more…
“Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?” Jarvis asked him as he pushed the jets to full power, trying to avert the bomb from its target. He headed towards Stark Tower - there was only one place he could put this thing, only one way he could save New York City.
“Probably not,” Tony said, as cavalier about this as he was about everything else, because to act any other way would mean that he had to stop and think about what he was about to do. And he couldn’t think too long about that, because then there was a chance that he wouldn’t be strong enough to go through with it.
“Should we try Ms. Potts one last time?” Jarvis asked.
“Why not,” he said. “Wait, no. No, call Blaine.”
That’s what a good father did, right? Called their son before they were about to die? Oh God, was he really about to die? This was going to be his final moment. Hey, at least he’d be able to say he’d gone out with a bang. One final, lasting impression. And he’d get to see another galaxy, too. Who could argue with that?
“Blaine, sir?”
“Just do it,” Tony said, ascending higher and higher. They were getting close. He just hoped they would make it before time was up. His calculations had them arriving with only a few seconds to spare, so long as there were no unscheduled interruptions.
“What do you want?” Blaine grumbled as he answered the phone. “You’ve already pulled me out of school in the middle of my midterm. Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to make those up? You’re going to have to call my professors and explain that this was your fault. Because it is. And shit, Tony. Do you realize that your friend, The Hulk, or whatever you call him tore apart my building? Like tore it apart with his bare hands. I’m watching it on the news right now.”
“Blaine,” Tony said, trying to get him to stop talking long enough so he could explain what was happening.
“Why are you even calling me?” Blaine asked. “You never call me. And aren’t you supposed to be battling those evil aliens or whatever? What, are you really bored enough with saving Earth that you have to call me?”
He was almost to Stark Tower, another thirty seconds and he would be through the portal and New York would be safe.
“Blaine, listen to me, I love you,” Tony said. It was rushed and awkward. He didn’t know why he couldn’t say those words without them sounding forced.
“Is this for some publicity thing? Because I told you, don’t use me for PR again. Not after the whole incident with West Side Story,” Blaine said, completely unaffected by his words. It wasn’t surprising, he guessed. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried to connect with Blaine before. Not in any honest way.
“I’m sorry,” Tony said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “I should have been a better father to you. I should have done more.”
“You’re just realizing this now?” Blaine responds with a bitter laugh.
“Just whatever happens, whatever you see and hear on the news about me, know that I did this-” Tony’s final words were cut off as the line went dead and he passed through the portal. He would never get to tell Blaine that he did this for him. He hoped that Blaine would know, but realistically, he probably wouldn’t.
His suit began losing power and the oxygen system started shutting down, making it difficult to breathe, but he fought against the grogginess he felt. He had to make sure that it worked. That he succeeded. That he could add one more successful mission to his resume before signing out for good.
As the bomb exploded and the cold, dark space lit up and began to burn, Tony had one final thought: Blaine was alive. He would be alive to carry on the Stark legacy in ways Tony never could. Because Blaine was much more pure than Tony ever was, completely unselfish. Beyond the Iron Man suit, even beyond creating self-sustaining energy, Blaine was, and always would be, his best creation.
****
And the follow up:
“I hate you, I seriously hate you,” Blaine storms into his Dad’s condo, ignoring all of the broken glass and debris that cover the floor. He almost falls into a very human shaped hole in the floor, but avoids it.
“Sir, young Mr. Anderson-Stark is here,” JARVIS announces over the intercom.
“Just Anderson,” Blaine mutters under his breath. He wasn’t Anderson-Stark growing up and he sure as hell isn’t going to be Anderson-Stark now.
“Oh, hey, Junior,” Tony says, walking into the room holding a welding mask and a torch. Blaine doesn’t even want to know what he’s going to use it for; it isn’t like The Tony Stark is going to get his hands dirty cleaning up his own condo.
“Finally come to ask your old man for styling tips? I know a barber that could control those curls of yours so you’re not your spending the whole of your trust fund on hair gel. Or if this is about dating advice, I gotta tell you, I don’t have much experience in romancing another man, but I can try.”
“Why would you do that?” Blaine yells, ignoring all of Tony’s obvious deflecting. Blaine is trying to keep his tears at bay, but it’s hard. He just keeps picturing Iron Man with that nuke, flying into that portal thing. Is that what they’re called? Kurt’s much better versed in all the proper linguistics than he can ever hope to be. He can still feel the lump in his throat from waiting and watching as the agonizing seconds went on and Iron Man didn’t fly back out. And the tears had started about ten seconds after he fell back through and very obviously wasn’t stopping.
He’s cried enough over this. Over him. He’s determined not to let Tony see his tears. The only thing he has for Tony is anger.
“Do what?” Tony responds cheekily. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I’ve done a lot in the past twenty-four hours: averted world catastrophe, saved New York City from being decimated, taught the Cap how to use a Stark phone-well attempted to teach the Cap how to use a Stark phone. They thought I didn’t work well with others, you should see this guy-”
“Dad!” Blaine yells to get him to shut up, and he does. In fact, Tony can’t stop staring at him with suspiciously misty eyes. There must be a lot of dust in the air or something…
“So it’s Dad now?”
“What?” Blaine responds, heart suddenly jumping back into his throat, where it’s been most of the day.
No, no, no. He hadn’t called Tony, Dad. That isn’t an option. He had hoped it was, once, but that was years ago. That was before he realized exactly who his father was. It was way before Afghanistan. Well before the whole let-me-teach-you-how-to-rebuild-a-car incident. And any hope he still held onto after that, well, he certainly lost it after the kidnapping, when it had taken his father two weeks to even realize that he was missing.
“You called me Dad,” Tony says with an amused smirk.
“No, I didn’t,” Blaine says quickly, trying to cover up his mistake.
“Yes you did. JARVIS, can we get that on playback?” Tony says and immediately Blaine hears his own voice reverberating throughout the room.
“What kind of father calls their son all casually as he’s about to die and doesn’t even have the decency to, oh, I don’t know, tell me!” Blaine yells, brushing over his slip up and putting this discussion back on target. He came here for a reason. He practiced this speech the entire plane ride here.
“In my defense, I was trying. Your teenage angst just got in the way,” Tony responds with a flippant wave of his hand.
“Do you have any idea how traumatizing it is to watch your father fall from the sky, the only thing saving him being a massive green giant?”
Blaine angrily brushes away the tears that are now falling from his eyes, cursing his body for betraying him, angry as all hell that he’s not strong enough to control his emotions. His father can build a fucking Iron Man suit and save the world numerous times over and he can’t even hold himself together during a conversation.
“He’s called The Hulk,” Tony says. His voice sounds like it has a hitch to it, but Blaine must be imagining it. Nothing touches Tony.
“I don’t care what he’s called!” Blaine says, storming across the room to where nearly all of the big glass wall is missing. He looks up to the sky to see that the giant hole into space that almost lost him his father is, in fact, actually closed. “You almost died and I had to find out about it on CNN!”
“Ah, don’t tell me that you would’ve missed me?” Tony says, walking over to stand next to his son.
Tony is taller than Blaine. He’s painfully smarter and more charming. His skin is slightly darker, but if he looks hard enough, Blaine can see the little hints that they are related. Dark hair, strong eyebrows (even if Tony’s are more contained) and there’s a similar look in Tony’s eyes when he’s trying to hold back tears.
“I thought you hated me?”
“Of course I hate you,” Blaine says quietly, not quite trusting his voice. “You go and get yourself in these situations where you’re likely to die on a daily basis and I’m just supposed to be okay with that?”
“I wouldn’t say daily - weekly, perhaps?” Tony says, always joking. His voice doesn’t sound as strong and confident as it usually does, but it still pisses Blaine off that his father is incapable of giving into a moment. Everything is a joke. “It’s actually far more likely that it’s bi-weekly. Unless there’s an apocalypse, at which point I can’t be held accountable if it’s a daily occurrence.”
“This isn’t funny!”
There is a hesitant hand on Blaine’s shoulder. It’s unfamiliar and incredibly awkward, but it doesn’t feel as forced as it has in the past. It doesn’t feel like Tony’s doing it to look like a good father to the press. It feels like he’s doing it because he wants to, but he just doesn’t understand how.
“Don’t worry kid, I always find a way to cut the wire,” Tony says softly.
“What?” Blaine asks, not sure if this is some science metaphor he’s supposed to understand but doesn’t because he’s failing Freshman Science.
“I’m Iron Man. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t care about Iron Man, I care about you,” Blaine says barely above a whisper.
It’s the first time he’s ever admitted to Tony that he cares. He’s terrified that it’s going to be brushed off with another joke because that’s what Tony does when he’s uncomfortable. Instead, he gets pulled into a hug - the first real hug he’s ever shared with Tony. There’s a split second where Blaine wants to shove him away - Blaine’s got a habit of running when things get uncomfortable - but he doesn’t. It’s slightly awkward, but he finds himself relaxing into the embrace. And if his cheek is uncomfortably hot as it lies against the miniature arc reactor in Tony’s chest, well, it’s fine because it’s just a reminder that Tony is alive and well against all odds.
This all started with a prompt: "I just really want a fic from that scene from The Avengers where Tony tried to call Pepper but instead he’s trying to call Blaine!!"
Nick thought he was volatile. Agent Coulson had called him self-centered. Steve accused him of being selfish because he wasn’t the guy that would lie on the wire. First of all, who lied down on wires anymore? What did grandpa know about how things worked nowadays? Just because he was smarter than them in every conceivable way… just because he was the guy that could cut the wire… that didn’t make him selfish. It just made him resourceful. Oh, and rich. Incredibly rich.
And in any other situation, in any other city, he would figure out another option. But he couldn’t risk New York. God, not New York. Not now that Blaine went to school a few blocks away, and he hoped his son had listened to him when he ordered that private jet for him. Because he wasn’t Blaine’s favorite person in the world, and their relationship had been rough over the years, but this was important. He shuttered to think of what could be happening to his son right now if he was still in the city. He should have texted him before he confronted Loki. A good father would have made sure that his son had left town before it was overrun by strange alien cyborgs.
Maybe Nick and Agent Coulson were right about him. He had no business being in the Avengers. Maybe Steve was right. There were plenty of men not anywhere near as accomplished as him, but still worth so much more…
“Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?” Jarvis asked him as he pushed the jets to full power, trying to avert the bomb from its target. He headed towards Stark Tower - there was only one place he could put this thing, only one way he could save New York City.
“Probably not,” Tony said, as cavalier about this as he was about everything else, because to act any other way would mean that he had to stop and think about what he was about to do. And he couldn’t think too long about that, because then there was a chance that he wouldn’t be strong enough to go through with it.
“Should we try Ms. Potts one last time?” Jarvis asked.
“Why not,” he said. “Wait, no. No, call Blaine.”
That’s what a good father did, right? Called their son before they were about to die? Oh God, was he really about to die? This was going to be his final moment. Hey, at least he’d be able to say he’d gone out with a bang. One final, lasting impression. And he’d get to see another galaxy, too. Who could argue with that?
“Blaine, sir?”
“Just do it,” Tony said, ascending higher and higher. They were getting close. He just hoped they would make it before time was up. His calculations had them arriving with only a few seconds to spare, so long as there were no unscheduled interruptions.
“What do you want?” Blaine grumbled as he answered the phone. “You’ve already pulled me out of school in the middle of my midterm. Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to make those up? You’re going to have to call my professors and explain that this was your fault. Because it is. And shit, Tony. Do you realize that your friend, The Hulk, or whatever you call him tore apart my building? Like tore it apart with his bare hands. I’m watching it on the news right now.”
“Blaine,” Tony said, trying to get him to stop talking long enough so he could explain what was happening.
“Why are you even calling me?” Blaine asked. “You never call me. And aren’t you supposed to be battling those evil aliens or whatever? What, are you really bored enough with saving Earth that you have to call me?”
He was almost to Stark Tower, another thirty seconds and he would be through the portal and New York would be safe.
“Blaine, listen to me, I love you,” Tony said. It was rushed and awkward. He didn’t know why he couldn’t say those words without them sounding forced.
“Is this for some publicity thing? Because I told you, don’t use me for PR again. Not after the whole incident with West Side Story,” Blaine said, completely unaffected by his words. It wasn’t surprising, he guessed. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried to connect with Blaine before. Not in any honest way.
“I’m sorry,” Tony said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “I should have been a better father to you. I should have done more.”
“You’re just realizing this now?” Blaine responds with a bitter laugh.
“Just whatever happens, whatever you see and hear on the news about me, know that I did this-” Tony’s final words were cut off as the line went dead and he passed through the portal. He would never get to tell Blaine that he did this for him. He hoped that Blaine would know, but realistically, he probably wouldn’t.
His suit began losing power and the oxygen system started shutting down, making it difficult to breathe, but he fought against the grogginess he felt. He had to make sure that it worked. That he succeeded. That he could add one more successful mission to his resume before signing out for good.
As the bomb exploded and the cold, dark space lit up and began to burn, Tony had one final thought: Blaine was alive. He would be alive to carry on the Stark legacy in ways Tony never could. Because Blaine was much more pure than Tony ever was, completely unselfish. Beyond the Iron Man suit, even beyond creating self-sustaining energy, Blaine was, and always would be, his best creation.
****
And the follow up:
“I hate you, I seriously hate you,” Blaine storms into his Dad’s condo, ignoring all of the broken glass and debris that cover the floor. He almost falls into a very human shaped hole in the floor, but avoids it.
“Sir, young Mr. Anderson-Stark is here,” JARVIS announces over the intercom.
“Just Anderson,” Blaine mutters under his breath. He wasn’t Anderson-Stark growing up and he sure as hell isn’t going to be Anderson-Stark now.
“Oh, hey, Junior,” Tony says, walking into the room holding a welding mask and a torch. Blaine doesn’t even want to know what he’s going to use it for; it isn’t like The Tony Stark is going to get his hands dirty cleaning up his own condo.
“Finally come to ask your old man for styling tips? I know a barber that could control those curls of yours so you’re not your spending the whole of your trust fund on hair gel. Or if this is about dating advice, I gotta tell you, I don’t have much experience in romancing another man, but I can try.”
“Why would you do that?” Blaine yells, ignoring all of Tony’s obvious deflecting. Blaine is trying to keep his tears at bay, but it’s hard. He just keeps picturing Iron Man with that nuke, flying into that portal thing. Is that what they’re called? Kurt’s much better versed in all the proper linguistics than he can ever hope to be. He can still feel the lump in his throat from waiting and watching as the agonizing seconds went on and Iron Man didn’t fly back out. And the tears had started about ten seconds after he fell back through and very obviously wasn’t stopping.
He’s cried enough over this. Over him. He’s determined not to let Tony see his tears. The only thing he has for Tony is anger.
“Do what?” Tony responds cheekily. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I’ve done a lot in the past twenty-four hours: averted world catastrophe, saved New York City from being decimated, taught the Cap how to use a Stark phone-well attempted to teach the Cap how to use a Stark phone. They thought I didn’t work well with others, you should see this guy-”
“Dad!” Blaine yells to get him to shut up, and he does. In fact, Tony can’t stop staring at him with suspiciously misty eyes. There must be a lot of dust in the air or something…
“So it’s Dad now?”
“What?” Blaine responds, heart suddenly jumping back into his throat, where it’s been most of the day.
No, no, no. He hadn’t called Tony, Dad. That isn’t an option. He had hoped it was, once, but that was years ago. That was before he realized exactly who his father was. It was way before Afghanistan. Well before the whole let-me-teach-you-how-to-rebuild-a-car incident. And any hope he still held onto after that, well, he certainly lost it after the kidnapping, when it had taken his father two weeks to even realize that he was missing.
“You called me Dad,” Tony says with an amused smirk.
“No, I didn’t,” Blaine says quickly, trying to cover up his mistake.
“Yes you did. JARVIS, can we get that on playback?” Tony says and immediately Blaine hears his own voice reverberating throughout the room.
“What kind of father calls their son all casually as he’s about to die and doesn’t even have the decency to, oh, I don’t know, tell me!” Blaine yells, brushing over his slip up and putting this discussion back on target. He came here for a reason. He practiced this speech the entire plane ride here.
“In my defense, I was trying. Your teenage angst just got in the way,” Tony responds with a flippant wave of his hand.
“Do you have any idea how traumatizing it is to watch your father fall from the sky, the only thing saving him being a massive green giant?”
Blaine angrily brushes away the tears that are now falling from his eyes, cursing his body for betraying him, angry as all hell that he’s not strong enough to control his emotions. His father can build a fucking Iron Man suit and save the world numerous times over and he can’t even hold himself together during a conversation.
“He’s called The Hulk,” Tony says. His voice sounds like it has a hitch to it, but Blaine must be imagining it. Nothing touches Tony.
“I don’t care what he’s called!” Blaine says, storming across the room to where nearly all of the big glass wall is missing. He looks up to the sky to see that the giant hole into space that almost lost him his father is, in fact, actually closed. “You almost died and I had to find out about it on CNN!”
“Ah, don’t tell me that you would’ve missed me?” Tony says, walking over to stand next to his son.
Tony is taller than Blaine. He’s painfully smarter and more charming. His skin is slightly darker, but if he looks hard enough, Blaine can see the little hints that they are related. Dark hair, strong eyebrows (even if Tony’s are more contained) and there’s a similar look in Tony’s eyes when he’s trying to hold back tears.
“I thought you hated me?”
“Of course I hate you,” Blaine says quietly, not quite trusting his voice. “You go and get yourself in these situations where you’re likely to die on a daily basis and I’m just supposed to be okay with that?”
“I wouldn’t say daily - weekly, perhaps?” Tony says, always joking. His voice doesn’t sound as strong and confident as it usually does, but it still pisses Blaine off that his father is incapable of giving into a moment. Everything is a joke. “It’s actually far more likely that it’s bi-weekly. Unless there’s an apocalypse, at which point I can’t be held accountable if it’s a daily occurrence.”
“This isn’t funny!”
There is a hesitant hand on Blaine’s shoulder. It’s unfamiliar and incredibly awkward, but it doesn’t feel as forced as it has in the past. It doesn’t feel like Tony’s doing it to look like a good father to the press. It feels like he’s doing it because he wants to, but he just doesn’t understand how.
“Don’t worry kid, I always find a way to cut the wire,” Tony says softly.
“What?” Blaine asks, not sure if this is some science metaphor he’s supposed to understand but doesn’t because he’s failing Freshman Science.
“I’m Iron Man. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t care about Iron Man, I care about you,” Blaine says barely above a whisper.
It’s the first time he’s ever admitted to Tony that he cares. He’s terrified that it’s going to be brushed off with another joke because that’s what Tony does when he’s uncomfortable. Instead, he gets pulled into a hug - the first real hug he’s ever shared with Tony. There’s a split second where Blaine wants to shove him away - Blaine’s got a habit of running when things get uncomfortable - but he doesn’t. It’s slightly awkward, but he finds himself relaxing into the embrace. And if his cheek is uncomfortably hot as it lies against the miniature arc reactor in Tony’s chest, well, it’s fine because it’s just a reminder that Tony is alive and well against all odds.