Fic: In Extremis, part 10/10
Yep, last part, you finally made it through it!
In Extremis, part 10
Iron Man (movie)/Transformers (movie)
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved
BLAME: Sapphire made me do it. No, seriously, I was toying with the idea and Sapph wasn’t trying very hard to discourage me. She actually went over some of the ideas with me. Between her leaving on Sunday and the next weekend I wrote this baby. All blame to her. And the rather receptive brain cell.
PLOT-BETAS: Sapphire and elfin
GRAMMAR-BETAS: okami_myrrhibis and elfin
Tony had reluctantly agreed to let Ratchet scan him. It was mostly out of his own curiosity. Jarvis hadn’t been able to deep-scan through the armor and the new undergarment. Tony would have to change the whole set-up, maybe even copy an Autobot scanner for that, so Ratchet was the quicker and easier choice.
The medic had been very intrigued. He had had Tony go through the process of calling upon the P-Cells, then had poked and prodded the black-clad human. He had asked Tony to remove P-Cell skin from parts of his body, watching how much of a control the human had over the process. Then Tony had called the armor and the same had happened once more.
“I find it interesting that Extremis recognized the P-Cells, since they are not in the human blueprint your brain stores.”
“Extremis was never finished,” Tony reminded the Autobot.
“It might be the reason. The access you have to data streams keeps your brain at peak performance. I predict you might have problems in the future, Mr. Stark. The human brain wasn’t laid out for this.”
“Mine was altered.”
“It’s still organic.”
Tony shrugged. He would wait and see. “What problems?”
“Headaches after intense use. Possible hallucinations. Dreams you can’t explain.”
“The usual then,” Tony interrupted, sounding casual.
“Don’t overdo it, Tony,” Ratchet told him sternly. “This is all new, it’s still basically a prototype and no one knows what might happen.”
That was one reason why Tony wanted Sam to keep testing the Extremis.
“No!” the technopath ground out.
“Sam, this isn’t just for fun. I need to know how I can defend myself,” Tony told him firmly.
For once he was totally serious. No fun, no teasing, no sarcasm. He needed this.
“How many technopaths run around and try to stop you?” the younger man challenged.
“That’s not the point.”
“It is! I’m the only technopath here and I’m not going to go all evil on you, Tony!”
“I talked to Ironhide. He said one of the Decepticons, a guy called Soundwave, is technopathic. Well, the Cybertronian equivalent of technopathic.”
“I’m not going to attack you because of something that might never happen!”
“Sam…”
“Soundwave isn’t a technopath!” Sam went on angrily. “He’s the Cybertronian version of a telepath. He’s not like me!”
Tony tilted his head a little. “How do you know?”
“I read his file.”
That got Sam raised eyebrows.
“I read a lot of files, okay? I want to know what I might have to face if the Cons come back,” the engineer growled.
“Listen, Sam, I’m not going to sue you if you knock me out, okay?” Tony repeated. “Please! You trained with Barricade, but that’s not an option for me.”
Sam looked tense, almost to the breaking point. Tony understood at least to a degree that he didn’t want to use his powers to hurt someone, especially since he had already knocked Tony out of the sky once. But Stark needed to know.
“Please?” he implored.
“We stop when I say so,” Sam replied, voice hard. “I’m not going to permanently debilitate you because you’re such a stubborn ass.”
Tony grinned. “Now you’re talking!”
* * *
They had chosen the med lab for this. Mainly because Ratchet insisted that he keep an eye on both men. Tony called the armor, felt it log on and fill his senses. Sam looked tense and like he wanted nothing more than to leave. Bumblebee’s presence was no great surprise. Tony was still wondering just what was going on between those two, and he would ask when this was over, but for now he pushed the presence of the yellow mech out of his thoughts.
“Ready?” he asked Sam.
The younger man grimaced. “No. Let’s do it. Maybe I can shut you up by knocking you out.”
Tony grinned. “Give it your best shot.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I will.”
*
The pain hit him like an eighteen-wheeler right between the eyes. Tony had no concept of up or down any more, he simply screamed, curling in on himself; the world around him seemed to rush by at the speed of light, a dizzying sensation that made him want to throw up.
Tony felt everything white out around him. There was a searing pain in his head, travelling down his spine, and he gasped. For a moment he felt absolutely nothing, then reality slammed back into him. The HUD was flashing warnings at him, there was a voice demanding to know if he was okay, and he wondered what had happened.
Memory returned and he rolled onto the side with a groan. His head pounded and his eyes swam with tears.
Damn!
Someone helped him sit up and he turned his head to meet the bright blue eyes of Will Lennox.
Blue?
And they glowed? Whoa!
The hand clasping his shoulder armor was colored a dark bronze and burned gold, some kind of runes flashing over it.
“Lennox?” he rasped.
Damn, he sounded bad.
“Yeah. Don’t ask.”
Tony accessed the Extremis and got another blow in the face. It was like touching a live wire.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” He undid the helmet manually and looked around for Sam.
The technopath was sitting on the ground, head in his hands, and Bumblebee was at his side. The optics were glowing brightly and he was stroking a finger over Sam’s back. It was such an intimate gesture, Tony briefly felt his chest constrict. He didn’t really have to ask any more. This was more than telling.
Sam had hit him so hard, Tony had literally seen stars. Everything else before that had been warm-up. Even trying to take out the suit had only resulted in fast-paced counteraction by the nanotubes. And then Sam had done something different and Tony had blacked out.
He clambered to his feet, aided by Lennox, who still looked like a mix between the Allspark and a protoform human, and stumbled over to Sam. The armor felt alien and heavy. Extremis was partially off-line and needed to reboot or recover; whatever.
“You okay?” he asked Lennox, who still looked like a modern piece of art come to life.
“Yeah. This will fade.”
“What happened?”
“You did. You give off strange vibes.” Will grimaced.
Tony blinked, slightly baffled. Okay… so what the fuck…? He pushed the thought out of his head as he stood before Sam, looking at the stricken technopath.
“Hey,” Tony said roughly.
Sam looked up, dark eyes burning. There was a clear expression in those eyes and Tony smirked.
“Yeah, I know. Sorry. I didn’t think you could do that.”
“I told you I could take it out, Tony. Don’t make me do it again.”
Bumblebee was still caressing Sam’s back and his optics watched Stark suspiciously.
“I believe you. I doubt I could come up with a defense against that whammy. And don’t worry, the Extremis isn’t completely down.”
Because Sam had stopped. He could have done worse. Tony was sure of it and he knew that nothing could counter-act this. He had to live with it. At least the Extremis had proven to be an obstacle. It was one good thing so far.
“Sam…?”
Sam looked at him, pale as a sheet and definitely suffering a lot more than Tony was.
“Sorry. I mean it.”
“Yeah.”
Tony let the armor open and removed the gauntlet, holding out one hand. The black undergarment had receded. Sam looked at him with narrowed eyes, then finally took the hand.
“Never ask me again, Stark. Never.”
“Promise.”
Because he ached himself. He needed a Tylenol or something even stronger. And he wanted nothing more than to just lie down. Tony rose and swayed, the world starting to dance around him.
“Hell…” he groaned.
A large hand caught him as his knees wobbled and he collapsed. Ratchet was suddenly there, lifting him up on the table.
“Stay still,” the medic ordered sternly.
And then everything whited out once more.
* * *
Tony sat in the private area that was mostly used by the human contingent of the Autobot base, clutching his coffee mug like a drowning man. He had refilled it once already and he wished for the caffeine to work. The man who had made the pot of coffee, a guy called Jones, had put enough roast into it to wake the dead. Since Tony felt very dead right now, he could only hope.
Damn, this had been bad. He had come to about an hour ago, after being out cold for almost the same amount of time, and the headache had been as bad as throughout his best drunken times. Only this time it hadn’t been the fault of too much alcohol. This had been a technopathic blow.
Extremis had recovered, but it reacted sluggishly. Every time he accessed it, his head started aching again. Jones had suggested food. Maybe what helped Sam would help him.
It hadn’t.
So Tony just suffered silently, eyes half closed, body aching, head pulsing with every heart beat.
Someone walked into the deserted room and he blinked his eyes open. Sam didn’t look much better, but at least he managed a coordinated walk. Tony had felt like a drunk, slightly disoriented, on his way here. And he had insisted he could be left alone. The way Jones had looked at him in the corridor and had shadowed him until he was here had shown Tony just how bad it must have looked.
“Tony?”
He squinted at Sam. “Hey.”
“You should take Ratchet’s advice and get some sleep.” He held up a hand. “And don’t tell me you’re fine. You’re quite obviously not.”
Tony sighed. “And you are?”
“My situation is different.”
“Because…?”
Sam settled down. He had faint lines of stress in his too pale face, too, but he didn’t look like he would keel over any moment now.
“I have an anchor.”
Tony frowned, then a slow smile spread over his lips. He might not be able to think as fast as he was used to, but this triggered something.
“Bumblebee.”
Sam nodded, only mildly surprised.
“I was wondering about that…”
The younger man sighed and leaned back into the couch. “Probably. It’s not what you think it is.”
“So you’re not having sex?”
Sam groaned. “No. Why does everyone think it’s sex right away?”
Tony chuckled. “Because it’s the most obvious conclusion.”
“Well, we’re not. Why do people think it’s even possible? I mean, look at the size difference and the fact Bee’s a robot and I’m human, and…”
“Mind-sex then?” Tony interrupted, sounding amused.
“Stark!”
He laughed, even though it aggravated his headache. “It is,” Tony teased.
“It doesn’t matter what it is. Bumblebee’s mind gets me back into shape after such a stunt. He’s… soothing.”
Tony grew more serious. “Must be something. It’s special, hm?” he asked, voice softer.
“It is.” Sam glanced at him, smiling. “I’m glad I have him.”
Tony could only agree. Right now he wished he had something to keep the Extremis from hurting so much. Or maybe it wasn’t the Extremis and just his head. It was hard to keep track of what was truly organic now and what was because of the Extremis.
“Good, hm?” Tony asked, voice still soft.
Sam gave him a hard look, then relaxed some more. “Yes.”
“All the better.” He massaged his temples.
“Get some sleep, Tony.”
It was a sound advice. It was a really, really good advice. Finally he nodded and rose, feeling dizzy. Damn.
Sam grabbed one elbow and gently steered him out of the common area and toward the guest quarters.
“I seem to attract baby-sitters,” Stark muttered.
“You need them.”
The bed looked very inviting, despite the bare room and all-too functional design. But Tony had slept in enough cots and military issue beds to not care any more. He collapsed onto the bed, toed off his shoes and flopped back. Sam smirked a little, then flipped off the lights.
Tony mumbled something and rolled onto the side. He was out no more than five minutes later.
* * *
Sam walked back to his own place on base. It was a former storage building, large enough inside to allow Bumblebee to stay should his presence be needed. Right now the mech’s presence was in Sam’s mind only. He was wrapped gently around him and Sam enjoyed the closeness.
::You should take your own advice, Sam:: Bumblebee sent.
::I’m fine. Really fine::
Bumblebee had helped with that.
His partner drifted closer and Sam smiled, leaning into the presence. It was so easy to be close and it was so incredible to feel the strength of Bumblebee through their bond.
He entered the former storage area, flipped on the TV and lay back on the couch.
Bumblebee sent a hum of contentment. Sam echoed it. He closed his eyes and let his mind mesh with Bumblebee’s, all guards down.
* * *
Hot Rod was back in his usual parking space. The silver skin was spotless, the metal cool to the touch, and he looked like all the other cars in Tony’s garage: an expensive sports car, a collector’s item. Tony had spoken very little with Hot Rod in the past days. They had come home from Stark’s latest little brush with death, then Tony had delved right back into company matters, interrupted by another visit to the Autobot base, and now…
Things were normal. As if Extremis had never happened.
But it had.
Tony was forever linked into the data streams and he didn’t know what it had been like before. This was perfect.
“You don’t have to stick around and guard me all the time,” Tony broke the comfortable silence between them. “I could always contact you in case someone tries to… oh, I don’t know… take another stab at me.”
“I’m here voluntarily, Tony,” Hot Rod said, sounding infinitely patient, like talking to a child who just wouldn’t learn.
“Not interested in hanging out with your pals?”
“We don’t have the same social dynamics humans have. We keep in touch.”
Tony studied the silver mech. -Okay. Just offering you a ticket out of here-
--I wouldn’t need an excuse to leave-Hot Rod answered, smoothly using the uplink Tony had opened.
--You’d just leave?”-
--Does that surprise you?- Hot Rod asked, sounding amused.
“Well, a good, upstanding ‘bot like you…”
The mech laughed. “I’m no do-gooder, Tony. I have as many black marks as you.”
“Uh-huh.”
--I’m staying. Get used to it-
--No other choice- he answered with a grimace.
Tony kicked up his feet on the worktable and swirled a ridiculously expensive flavored, non-alcoholic drink in his glass. It was almost blasphemous. Well, he was drinking it out of a very cheap, blue glass he had gotten from the burger joint because of some offer or other. Pepper had wrinkled her nose at him, but she had taken hers home. It had been a red one.
Tony grinned to himself. Sometimes it was fun to go to a drive through. Lots of fun. Especially in the back of a Rolls or driving the R8, the Saleen or any other kind of fancy sports car. Yes, he got a kick out of that.
Emptying the glass, he set it down on the table. The last remaining ice cubes clinked softly. He gazed at his fingers and wriggled them a little, smiling more. Beneath the deceptively smooth human skin lay what Extremis had made of him.
So cool. So incredibly cool and more than he had ever hoped to get out of this.
Extremis had taken the P-Cells present in his body and made them into his undergarment when he put on the armor. The smooth structure of the new ‘skin’ was neither metal nor truly organic. It was what protoforms were made of. Additionally Tony had been overhauled; completely. His organs were brand-spanking-new. His liver showed no more signs of alcohol abuse, his heart was healthy, the shrapnel was gone, as were the scars he had received because of those injuries. Including the bullet wound. There was nothing wrong with him. Nothing at all. At least organically.
Jarvis had run a scan on him. The arc reactor was now very much shaped to blend in with his natural musculature and shape. It was still glowing an icy white-blue color, but now the connection was not to his heart, but to his whole body. Extremis was part of his nervous system, linked to it. So was the reactor. Tony had been endlessly amazed at the fine wiring, all nanotubes, running from the implant into his body. He couldn’t remove the reactor as such and he wondered, if it was damaged, would Extremis repair it. While he was an experimental person, he wasn’t keen on stabbing himself in the reactor.
His endurance had grown. He was stronger, he was healthier, he was faster. He also ate more. Pepper had remarked on it just this evening when they had shared a late dinner. Tony had always substituted solid food for liquids, but now he ate healthy portions, including dessert.
Super-Soldier, he thought, amusement spreading through him.
That triggered something else, something he hadn’t thought about ever since he had developed the Mark III. His eyes were drawn to a very specific project of his.
He remembered now where he had come across the Super-Soldier program before. It had been when he had worked another government contract as the chief developer. He had delivered the goods on time, had earned the company a very large amount of money, as well as four new contracts, and he had had access to the file of one Steve Rogers, code name Captain America.
It was out of this file that he had picked one specific thing: the shield.
The original had been lost with Rogers just before the end of World War II. No one knew where the body of the man was and how he had died, but the shield had been found, only to be lost again. The specifics of the construction were still on record and Tony had made it his private project. He had no idea why, but the idea of this being the only weapon of an otherwise mainly unarmed man had intrigued him. Rogers had been the pinnacle of human perfection. The perfect fighter. Trained in hand-to-hand combat, faster, stronger, more resilient, than any other human being could ever hope to be through normal training.
The serum had been lost with so many other things, but Maya Hansen had revived it in Extremis, just on a different level. Tony had taken to reconstructing the shield, trying out different designs, until he had made it a perfectly round one.
Perfect weight, perfect balance, perfect protection. Aside from maybe a blow from Iron Man, nothing could ever dent the shield. With the success of the P-Cells, he had tried to integrate them into the shield as well, but their requirement for energy to work made that impossible. He could hardly snap a few AA batteries into a hidden socket.
Tony ran a hand over the smooth surface. He had even given it the correct coloring. Red, white and blue. A star in the middle.
How patriotic.
He almost laughed out loud.
Captain America had been lost, but the idea of a national hero was still there. Maybe the world was waiting for the return of such a new superhero. Iron Man hardly filled those shoes.
Using the Extremis, Tony closed the file. It winked out of existence on the screens. The shield was still there.
Part of him wanted to get to know this man. Wanted to talk to him, wanted to listen to him. He had been the first superhero ever. He had been a mere human being and he had been altered. So much like Tony.
Just that he hadn’t been an arrogant bastard, a weapons dealer, a merchant of death.
Tony suppressed the flood of self-loathing and turned to his armor. He had a few changes to make there. He had to slim it down, take the Extremis into account, the fact that he himself was no part of the armor, stored part of it inside himself. It would take his mind off things.
At least for now.
In Extremis, part 10
Iron Man (movie)/Transformers (movie)
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved
BLAME: Sapphire made me do it. No, seriously, I was toying with the idea and Sapph wasn’t trying very hard to discourage me. She actually went over some of the ideas with me. Between her leaving on Sunday and the next weekend I wrote this baby. All blame to her. And the rather receptive brain cell.
PLOT-BETAS: Sapphire and elfin
GRAMMAR-BETAS: okami_myrrhibis and elfin
Tony had reluctantly agreed to let Ratchet scan him. It was mostly out of his own curiosity. Jarvis hadn’t been able to deep-scan through the armor and the new undergarment. Tony would have to change the whole set-up, maybe even copy an Autobot scanner for that, so Ratchet was the quicker and easier choice.
The medic had been very intrigued. He had had Tony go through the process of calling upon the P-Cells, then had poked and prodded the black-clad human. He had asked Tony to remove P-Cell skin from parts of his body, watching how much of a control the human had over the process. Then Tony had called the armor and the same had happened once more.
“I find it interesting that Extremis recognized the P-Cells, since they are not in the human blueprint your brain stores.”
“Extremis was never finished,” Tony reminded the Autobot.
“It might be the reason. The access you have to data streams keeps your brain at peak performance. I predict you might have problems in the future, Mr. Stark. The human brain wasn’t laid out for this.”
“Mine was altered.”
“It’s still organic.”
Tony shrugged. He would wait and see. “What problems?”
“Headaches after intense use. Possible hallucinations. Dreams you can’t explain.”
“The usual then,” Tony interrupted, sounding casual.
“Don’t overdo it, Tony,” Ratchet told him sternly. “This is all new, it’s still basically a prototype and no one knows what might happen.”
That was one reason why Tony wanted Sam to keep testing the Extremis.
“No!” the technopath ground out.
“Sam, this isn’t just for fun. I need to know how I can defend myself,” Tony told him firmly.
For once he was totally serious. No fun, no teasing, no sarcasm. He needed this.
“How many technopaths run around and try to stop you?” the younger man challenged.
“That’s not the point.”
“It is! I’m the only technopath here and I’m not going to go all evil on you, Tony!”
“I talked to Ironhide. He said one of the Decepticons, a guy called Soundwave, is technopathic. Well, the Cybertronian equivalent of technopathic.”
“I’m not going to attack you because of something that might never happen!”
“Sam…”
“Soundwave isn’t a technopath!” Sam went on angrily. “He’s the Cybertronian version of a telepath. He’s not like me!”
Tony tilted his head a little. “How do you know?”
“I read his file.”
That got Sam raised eyebrows.
“I read a lot of files, okay? I want to know what I might have to face if the Cons come back,” the engineer growled.
“Listen, Sam, I’m not going to sue you if you knock me out, okay?” Tony repeated. “Please! You trained with Barricade, but that’s not an option for me.”
Sam looked tense, almost to the breaking point. Tony understood at least to a degree that he didn’t want to use his powers to hurt someone, especially since he had already knocked Tony out of the sky once. But Stark needed to know.
“Please?” he implored.
“We stop when I say so,” Sam replied, voice hard. “I’m not going to permanently debilitate you because you’re such a stubborn ass.”
Tony grinned. “Now you’re talking!”
* * *
They had chosen the med lab for this. Mainly because Ratchet insisted that he keep an eye on both men. Tony called the armor, felt it log on and fill his senses. Sam looked tense and like he wanted nothing more than to leave. Bumblebee’s presence was no great surprise. Tony was still wondering just what was going on between those two, and he would ask when this was over, but for now he pushed the presence of the yellow mech out of his thoughts.
“Ready?” he asked Sam.
The younger man grimaced. “No. Let’s do it. Maybe I can shut you up by knocking you out.”
Tony grinned. “Give it your best shot.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I will.”
*
The pain hit him like an eighteen-wheeler right between the eyes. Tony had no concept of up or down any more, he simply screamed, curling in on himself; the world around him seemed to rush by at the speed of light, a dizzying sensation that made him want to throw up.
Tony felt everything white out around him. There was a searing pain in his head, travelling down his spine, and he gasped. For a moment he felt absolutely nothing, then reality slammed back into him. The HUD was flashing warnings at him, there was a voice demanding to know if he was okay, and he wondered what had happened.
Memory returned and he rolled onto the side with a groan. His head pounded and his eyes swam with tears.
Damn!
Someone helped him sit up and he turned his head to meet the bright blue eyes of Will Lennox.
Blue?
And they glowed? Whoa!
The hand clasping his shoulder armor was colored a dark bronze and burned gold, some kind of runes flashing over it.
“Lennox?” he rasped.
Damn, he sounded bad.
“Yeah. Don’t ask.”
Tony accessed the Extremis and got another blow in the face. It was like touching a live wire.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” He undid the helmet manually and looked around for Sam.
The technopath was sitting on the ground, head in his hands, and Bumblebee was at his side. The optics were glowing brightly and he was stroking a finger over Sam’s back. It was such an intimate gesture, Tony briefly felt his chest constrict. He didn’t really have to ask any more. This was more than telling.
Sam had hit him so hard, Tony had literally seen stars. Everything else before that had been warm-up. Even trying to take out the suit had only resulted in fast-paced counteraction by the nanotubes. And then Sam had done something different and Tony had blacked out.
He clambered to his feet, aided by Lennox, who still looked like a mix between the Allspark and a protoform human, and stumbled over to Sam. The armor felt alien and heavy. Extremis was partially off-line and needed to reboot or recover; whatever.
“You okay?” he asked Lennox, who still looked like a modern piece of art come to life.
“Yeah. This will fade.”
“What happened?”
“You did. You give off strange vibes.” Will grimaced.
Tony blinked, slightly baffled. Okay… so what the fuck…? He pushed the thought out of his head as he stood before Sam, looking at the stricken technopath.
“Hey,” Tony said roughly.
Sam looked up, dark eyes burning. There was a clear expression in those eyes and Tony smirked.
“Yeah, I know. Sorry. I didn’t think you could do that.”
“I told you I could take it out, Tony. Don’t make me do it again.”
Bumblebee was still caressing Sam’s back and his optics watched Stark suspiciously.
“I believe you. I doubt I could come up with a defense against that whammy. And don’t worry, the Extremis isn’t completely down.”
Because Sam had stopped. He could have done worse. Tony was sure of it and he knew that nothing could counter-act this. He had to live with it. At least the Extremis had proven to be an obstacle. It was one good thing so far.
“Sam…?”
Sam looked at him, pale as a sheet and definitely suffering a lot more than Tony was.
“Sorry. I mean it.”
“Yeah.”
Tony let the armor open and removed the gauntlet, holding out one hand. The black undergarment had receded. Sam looked at him with narrowed eyes, then finally took the hand.
“Never ask me again, Stark. Never.”
“Promise.”
Because he ached himself. He needed a Tylenol or something even stronger. And he wanted nothing more than to just lie down. Tony rose and swayed, the world starting to dance around him.
“Hell…” he groaned.
A large hand caught him as his knees wobbled and he collapsed. Ratchet was suddenly there, lifting him up on the table.
“Stay still,” the medic ordered sternly.
And then everything whited out once more.
* * *
Tony sat in the private area that was mostly used by the human contingent of the Autobot base, clutching his coffee mug like a drowning man. He had refilled it once already and he wished for the caffeine to work. The man who had made the pot of coffee, a guy called Jones, had put enough roast into it to wake the dead. Since Tony felt very dead right now, he could only hope.
Damn, this had been bad. He had come to about an hour ago, after being out cold for almost the same amount of time, and the headache had been as bad as throughout his best drunken times. Only this time it hadn’t been the fault of too much alcohol. This had been a technopathic blow.
Extremis had recovered, but it reacted sluggishly. Every time he accessed it, his head started aching again. Jones had suggested food. Maybe what helped Sam would help him.
It hadn’t.
So Tony just suffered silently, eyes half closed, body aching, head pulsing with every heart beat.
Someone walked into the deserted room and he blinked his eyes open. Sam didn’t look much better, but at least he managed a coordinated walk. Tony had felt like a drunk, slightly disoriented, on his way here. And he had insisted he could be left alone. The way Jones had looked at him in the corridor and had shadowed him until he was here had shown Tony just how bad it must have looked.
“Tony?”
He squinted at Sam. “Hey.”
“You should take Ratchet’s advice and get some sleep.” He held up a hand. “And don’t tell me you’re fine. You’re quite obviously not.”
Tony sighed. “And you are?”
“My situation is different.”
“Because…?”
Sam settled down. He had faint lines of stress in his too pale face, too, but he didn’t look like he would keel over any moment now.
“I have an anchor.”
Tony frowned, then a slow smile spread over his lips. He might not be able to think as fast as he was used to, but this triggered something.
“Bumblebee.”
Sam nodded, only mildly surprised.
“I was wondering about that…”
The younger man sighed and leaned back into the couch. “Probably. It’s not what you think it is.”
“So you’re not having sex?”
Sam groaned. “No. Why does everyone think it’s sex right away?”
Tony chuckled. “Because it’s the most obvious conclusion.”
“Well, we’re not. Why do people think it’s even possible? I mean, look at the size difference and the fact Bee’s a robot and I’m human, and…”
“Mind-sex then?” Tony interrupted, sounding amused.
“Stark!”
He laughed, even though it aggravated his headache. “It is,” Tony teased.
“It doesn’t matter what it is. Bumblebee’s mind gets me back into shape after such a stunt. He’s… soothing.”
Tony grew more serious. “Must be something. It’s special, hm?” he asked, voice softer.
“It is.” Sam glanced at him, smiling. “I’m glad I have him.”
Tony could only agree. Right now he wished he had something to keep the Extremis from hurting so much. Or maybe it wasn’t the Extremis and just his head. It was hard to keep track of what was truly organic now and what was because of the Extremis.
“Good, hm?” Tony asked, voice still soft.
Sam gave him a hard look, then relaxed some more. “Yes.”
“All the better.” He massaged his temples.
“Get some sleep, Tony.”
It was a sound advice. It was a really, really good advice. Finally he nodded and rose, feeling dizzy. Damn.
Sam grabbed one elbow and gently steered him out of the common area and toward the guest quarters.
“I seem to attract baby-sitters,” Stark muttered.
“You need them.”
The bed looked very inviting, despite the bare room and all-too functional design. But Tony had slept in enough cots and military issue beds to not care any more. He collapsed onto the bed, toed off his shoes and flopped back. Sam smirked a little, then flipped off the lights.
Tony mumbled something and rolled onto the side. He was out no more than five minutes later.
* * *
Sam walked back to his own place on base. It was a former storage building, large enough inside to allow Bumblebee to stay should his presence be needed. Right now the mech’s presence was in Sam’s mind only. He was wrapped gently around him and Sam enjoyed the closeness.
::You should take your own advice, Sam:: Bumblebee sent.
::I’m fine. Really fine::
Bumblebee had helped with that.
His partner drifted closer and Sam smiled, leaning into the presence. It was so easy to be close and it was so incredible to feel the strength of Bumblebee through their bond.
He entered the former storage area, flipped on the TV and lay back on the couch.
Bumblebee sent a hum of contentment. Sam echoed it. He closed his eyes and let his mind mesh with Bumblebee’s, all guards down.
* * *
Hot Rod was back in his usual parking space. The silver skin was spotless, the metal cool to the touch, and he looked like all the other cars in Tony’s garage: an expensive sports car, a collector’s item. Tony had spoken very little with Hot Rod in the past days. They had come home from Stark’s latest little brush with death, then Tony had delved right back into company matters, interrupted by another visit to the Autobot base, and now…
Things were normal. As if Extremis had never happened.
But it had.
Tony was forever linked into the data streams and he didn’t know what it had been like before. This was perfect.
“You don’t have to stick around and guard me all the time,” Tony broke the comfortable silence between them. “I could always contact you in case someone tries to… oh, I don’t know… take another stab at me.”
“I’m here voluntarily, Tony,” Hot Rod said, sounding infinitely patient, like talking to a child who just wouldn’t learn.
“Not interested in hanging out with your pals?”
“We don’t have the same social dynamics humans have. We keep in touch.”
Tony studied the silver mech. -Okay. Just offering you a ticket out of here-
--I wouldn’t need an excuse to leave-Hot Rod answered, smoothly using the uplink Tony had opened.
--You’d just leave?”-
--Does that surprise you?- Hot Rod asked, sounding amused.
“Well, a good, upstanding ‘bot like you…”
The mech laughed. “I’m no do-gooder, Tony. I have as many black marks as you.”
“Uh-huh.”
--I’m staying. Get used to it-
--No other choice- he answered with a grimace.
Tony kicked up his feet on the worktable and swirled a ridiculously expensive flavored, non-alcoholic drink in his glass. It was almost blasphemous. Well, he was drinking it out of a very cheap, blue glass he had gotten from the burger joint because of some offer or other. Pepper had wrinkled her nose at him, but she had taken hers home. It had been a red one.
Tony grinned to himself. Sometimes it was fun to go to a drive through. Lots of fun. Especially in the back of a Rolls or driving the R8, the Saleen or any other kind of fancy sports car. Yes, he got a kick out of that.
Emptying the glass, he set it down on the table. The last remaining ice cubes clinked softly. He gazed at his fingers and wriggled them a little, smiling more. Beneath the deceptively smooth human skin lay what Extremis had made of him.
So cool. So incredibly cool and more than he had ever hoped to get out of this.
Extremis had taken the P-Cells present in his body and made them into his undergarment when he put on the armor. The smooth structure of the new ‘skin’ was neither metal nor truly organic. It was what protoforms were made of. Additionally Tony had been overhauled; completely. His organs were brand-spanking-new. His liver showed no more signs of alcohol abuse, his heart was healthy, the shrapnel was gone, as were the scars he had received because of those injuries. Including the bullet wound. There was nothing wrong with him. Nothing at all. At least organically.
Jarvis had run a scan on him. The arc reactor was now very much shaped to blend in with his natural musculature and shape. It was still glowing an icy white-blue color, but now the connection was not to his heart, but to his whole body. Extremis was part of his nervous system, linked to it. So was the reactor. Tony had been endlessly amazed at the fine wiring, all nanotubes, running from the implant into his body. He couldn’t remove the reactor as such and he wondered, if it was damaged, would Extremis repair it. While he was an experimental person, he wasn’t keen on stabbing himself in the reactor.
His endurance had grown. He was stronger, he was healthier, he was faster. He also ate more. Pepper had remarked on it just this evening when they had shared a late dinner. Tony had always substituted solid food for liquids, but now he ate healthy portions, including dessert.
Super-Soldier, he thought, amusement spreading through him.
That triggered something else, something he hadn’t thought about ever since he had developed the Mark III. His eyes were drawn to a very specific project of his.
He remembered now where he had come across the Super-Soldier program before. It had been when he had worked another government contract as the chief developer. He had delivered the goods on time, had earned the company a very large amount of money, as well as four new contracts, and he had had access to the file of one Steve Rogers, code name Captain America.
It was out of this file that he had picked one specific thing: the shield.
The original had been lost with Rogers just before the end of World War II. No one knew where the body of the man was and how he had died, but the shield had been found, only to be lost again. The specifics of the construction were still on record and Tony had made it his private project. He had no idea why, but the idea of this being the only weapon of an otherwise mainly unarmed man had intrigued him. Rogers had been the pinnacle of human perfection. The perfect fighter. Trained in hand-to-hand combat, faster, stronger, more resilient, than any other human being could ever hope to be through normal training.
The serum had been lost with so many other things, but Maya Hansen had revived it in Extremis, just on a different level. Tony had taken to reconstructing the shield, trying out different designs, until he had made it a perfectly round one.
Perfect weight, perfect balance, perfect protection. Aside from maybe a blow from Iron Man, nothing could ever dent the shield. With the success of the P-Cells, he had tried to integrate them into the shield as well, but their requirement for energy to work made that impossible. He could hardly snap a few AA batteries into a hidden socket.
Tony ran a hand over the smooth surface. He had even given it the correct coloring. Red, white and blue. A star in the middle.
How patriotic.
He almost laughed out loud.
Captain America had been lost, but the idea of a national hero was still there. Maybe the world was waiting for the return of such a new superhero. Iron Man hardly filled those shoes.
Using the Extremis, Tony closed the file. It winked out of existence on the screens. The shield was still there.
Part of him wanted to get to know this man. Wanted to talk to him, wanted to listen to him. He had been the first superhero ever. He had been a mere human being and he had been altered. So much like Tony.
Just that he hadn’t been an arrogant bastard, a weapons dealer, a merchant of death.
Tony suppressed the flood of self-loathing and turned to his armor. He had a few changes to make there. He had to slim it down, take the Extremis into account, the fact that he himself was no part of the armor, stored part of it inside himself. It would take his mind off things.
At least for now.