Fic: Reflections
Title: Reflections
Author: Penumbren
Characters: Tony Stark, mentions of Pepper, Rhodey, Obadiah Stane
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Warnings: Alcohol. Lots of alcohol. And angst. Also, swearing.
Notes: So, my very first Iron Man fic and my very first posting here. For some reason, angsty tormented characters are easy for me to write. I'm not sure what that says about me.... Also, this is the first thing I've written in god only knows how long, so hopefully it doesn't suck. Many many things to the lovely hurrigirl for beta-ing this bit for me.
Notes, updated: This was written a month ago, so call it somewhere midway between IM & IM2.
***
The bottle gleamed in the light coming from the single lamp on the table. The light reflected off the expensive crystal tumbler, sending glimmers from the ice cubes dancing through the amber liquid within. The scotch cast shifting patterns across the carpet and Tony watched them without moving for a long moment, almost feeling guilty for destroying the subtle beauty even as he raised the glass to his lips and swallowed the rest of the drink in one swift motion, barely feeling the burn as the alcohol slide down his throat. He was already pouring his next glass.
He could already picture the almost angry, mostly disappointed look in Pepper's eyes, the words that she'd given up saying held back behind tightly-pressed lips. She would work with quick, efficient movements, the so-straight line of her back telling him without words just how upset she was... He tossed back another glass of the liquid, the burn a comforting heat now as his eyes wandered absently across the room, seeing the few personal touches, only the scattered photos really showing anything of the person who lived here. Photos of Pepper, of Rhodey... even one of him and Obadiah.
Pepper never said anything, had never asked him how he could bear to still have a picture of the man who'd tried to hard to kill him, her, destroy everything he'd ever worked for. Rhodey had, once. Tony hadn't been able to answer him. He just couldn't seem to find the words to express the tangled knot in his heart whenever he thought of Obi. The man had been insane, sure, completely whacked, had tried to kill him - tried to take his company, for fuck's sake! But he'd been the nearest thing Tony had to a father for a large part of his life, too, and he couldn't forget that.
God knew he'd tried. The photo now sitting on the otherwise empty shelf wasn't the original. That one had been torn to shreds by the shards of its shattered frame and covering glass, thrown across the room by the fury of Iron Man's palm repulsors, the night Obi had died.
The night Tony had killed him
The ice clinked in the empty glass and Tony realised his hand was shaking. With an abrupt, almost angry movement, Tony refilled it and raised the glass up to his eyes, staring into the amber depths. The swirling patterns of melting ice and cool liquid soothed him a little and he let out a long breath before laughing sharply. Raising his glass to the photo, Tony saluted it with a quick movement.
"To you, Obadiah. The man who taught me not to trust," he said, his voice far too steady for the amount of alcohol he'd already had, but nonetheless too brittle for his own comfort. "You son of a bitch." He drained the glass, put it down, not caring that it would leave ring marks on his five thousand dollar end table. He could always have Pepper buy him another one.
Only when he reached for the bottle again did Tony realise that it was empty. Swearing, he stood and crossed the room to the liquor cabinet, feeling the weight of the photos' frozen, accusing stares on his back as he lifted out another bottle of scotch. Screw them. What did he care? He was fucking Iron Man, for Christ's sake. If he wanted to drink until he passed out, it was his goddamned right.
Maybe if he did pass out, he could forget about the aching loneliness that was his only constant companion. Yeah, he loved Pepper, but not like that. And even if it were like that, he'd never do anything with her. Not Pepper. She was the one really good thing left in his life - he wasn't about to fuck her up by letting her drown in his corrupting shit. That's why he had the revolving door of mindless bimbos - they didn't matter. Pepper mattered.
He could see Rhodey's expression now if he ever heard that - not that he would. And so the hell what? Rhodey was too damned busy to fucking talk to him, these days. His best friend. Yeah, right.
Snorting in disgust - at Rhodey, Tony told himself, not at himself, what did he have to be disgusted with himself about, after all? - Tony opened the new bottle and took a drink straight from it, leaning with one hand on the mahogany cabinet. His gaze settled on a picture of him and Rhodey, arms around each other's shoulders and both of them grinning widely at the camera. He couldn't remember where they'd been when the picture was taken, but he could remember the moment.
They'd been... somewhere - fuck, why couldn't he remember? - and Rhodey had just rolled his eyes at whatever bullshit Tony had been spouting, and Tony had blocked the half-serious punch that was Rhodey's attempt to shut him up, and then they'd been almost-fighting. Rhodey was fed up with his crap - again - and when they were both bruised and sweaty, trading blows over something stupid, they'd caught each other's eyes... and Tony had laughed. He couldn't help himself. He'd barely ducked Rhodey's next punch, anger and irritation at his sudden, irrational amusement throwing his friend's aim off, and he'd just laughed louder. Then Rhodey's eyes had crinkled, and a smile crept out, and then they'd been laughing so hard they couldn't even catch their breaths, and if there had been some tears in there too, neither of them would ever admit it. They'd just leaned into each other, holding each other up with supportive arms, and only when Pepper laughed did they even remember that she was there.
She'd taken the photo just as they looked up, both messy and sweaty and grinning, and Tony had given that picture pride of place in his home as soon as he'd seen it. He should ask her where they'd been - she'd remember. Maybe they could go back there sometime soon.
Of course, Rhodey wouldn't be able to go. He was too damned busy these days, always too caught up in his military crap to give Tony any of his time. Once the military had realised that he'd meant it about the weapons, Stark Enterprises had lost their biggest customer - and Tony lost his best friend.
"Fuck you, Rhodey," he whispered, and turned away from the now-painful memories of happier times on suddenly unsteady feet, walking too-carefully back to the couch.
***
fin
Author: Penumbren
Characters: Tony Stark, mentions of Pepper, Rhodey, Obadiah Stane
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Warnings: Alcohol. Lots of alcohol. And angst. Also, swearing.
Notes: So, my very first Iron Man fic and my very first posting here. For some reason, angsty tormented characters are easy for me to write. I'm not sure what that says about me.... Also, this is the first thing I've written in god only knows how long, so hopefully it doesn't suck. Many many things to the lovely hurrigirl for beta-ing this bit for me.
Notes, updated: This was written a month ago, so call it somewhere midway between IM & IM2.
***
The bottle gleamed in the light coming from the single lamp on the table. The light reflected off the expensive crystal tumbler, sending glimmers from the ice cubes dancing through the amber liquid within. The scotch cast shifting patterns across the carpet and Tony watched them without moving for a long moment, almost feeling guilty for destroying the subtle beauty even as he raised the glass to his lips and swallowed the rest of the drink in one swift motion, barely feeling the burn as the alcohol slide down his throat. He was already pouring his next glass.
He could already picture the almost angry, mostly disappointed look in Pepper's eyes, the words that she'd given up saying held back behind tightly-pressed lips. She would work with quick, efficient movements, the so-straight line of her back telling him without words just how upset she was... He tossed back another glass of the liquid, the burn a comforting heat now as his eyes wandered absently across the room, seeing the few personal touches, only the scattered photos really showing anything of the person who lived here. Photos of Pepper, of Rhodey... even one of him and Obadiah.
Pepper never said anything, had never asked him how he could bear to still have a picture of the man who'd tried to hard to kill him, her, destroy everything he'd ever worked for. Rhodey had, once. Tony hadn't been able to answer him. He just couldn't seem to find the words to express the tangled knot in his heart whenever he thought of Obi. The man had been insane, sure, completely whacked, had tried to kill him - tried to take his company, for fuck's sake! But he'd been the nearest thing Tony had to a father for a large part of his life, too, and he couldn't forget that.
God knew he'd tried. The photo now sitting on the otherwise empty shelf wasn't the original. That one had been torn to shreds by the shards of its shattered frame and covering glass, thrown across the room by the fury of Iron Man's palm repulsors, the night Obi had died.
The night Tony had killed him
The ice clinked in the empty glass and Tony realised his hand was shaking. With an abrupt, almost angry movement, Tony refilled it and raised the glass up to his eyes, staring into the amber depths. The swirling patterns of melting ice and cool liquid soothed him a little and he let out a long breath before laughing sharply. Raising his glass to the photo, Tony saluted it with a quick movement.
"To you, Obadiah. The man who taught me not to trust," he said, his voice far too steady for the amount of alcohol he'd already had, but nonetheless too brittle for his own comfort. "You son of a bitch." He drained the glass, put it down, not caring that it would leave ring marks on his five thousand dollar end table. He could always have Pepper buy him another one.
Only when he reached for the bottle again did Tony realise that it was empty. Swearing, he stood and crossed the room to the liquor cabinet, feeling the weight of the photos' frozen, accusing stares on his back as he lifted out another bottle of scotch. Screw them. What did he care? He was fucking Iron Man, for Christ's sake. If he wanted to drink until he passed out, it was his goddamned right.
Maybe if he did pass out, he could forget about the aching loneliness that was his only constant companion. Yeah, he loved Pepper, but not like that. And even if it were like that, he'd never do anything with her. Not Pepper. She was the one really good thing left in his life - he wasn't about to fuck her up by letting her drown in his corrupting shit. That's why he had the revolving door of mindless bimbos - they didn't matter. Pepper mattered.
He could see Rhodey's expression now if he ever heard that - not that he would. And so the hell what? Rhodey was too damned busy to fucking talk to him, these days. His best friend. Yeah, right.
Snorting in disgust - at Rhodey, Tony told himself, not at himself, what did he have to be disgusted with himself about, after all? - Tony opened the new bottle and took a drink straight from it, leaning with one hand on the mahogany cabinet. His gaze settled on a picture of him and Rhodey, arms around each other's shoulders and both of them grinning widely at the camera. He couldn't remember where they'd been when the picture was taken, but he could remember the moment.
They'd been... somewhere - fuck, why couldn't he remember? - and Rhodey had just rolled his eyes at whatever bullshit Tony had been spouting, and Tony had blocked the half-serious punch that was Rhodey's attempt to shut him up, and then they'd been almost-fighting. Rhodey was fed up with his crap - again - and when they were both bruised and sweaty, trading blows over something stupid, they'd caught each other's eyes... and Tony had laughed. He couldn't help himself. He'd barely ducked Rhodey's next punch, anger and irritation at his sudden, irrational amusement throwing his friend's aim off, and he'd just laughed louder. Then Rhodey's eyes had crinkled, and a smile crept out, and then they'd been laughing so hard they couldn't even catch their breaths, and if there had been some tears in there too, neither of them would ever admit it. They'd just leaned into each other, holding each other up with supportive arms, and only when Pepper laughed did they even remember that she was there.
She'd taken the photo just as they looked up, both messy and sweaty and grinning, and Tony had given that picture pride of place in his home as soon as he'd seen it. He should ask her where they'd been - she'd remember. Maybe they could go back there sometime soon.
Of course, Rhodey wouldn't be able to go. He was too damned busy these days, always too caught up in his military crap to give Tony any of his time. Once the military had realised that he'd meant it about the weapons, Stark Enterprises had lost their biggest customer - and Tony lost his best friend.
"Fuck you, Rhodey," he whispered, and turned away from the now-painful memories of happier times on suddenly unsteady feet, walking too-carefully back to the couch.
***
fin