Fic: There is no 'I'... 9/11
Chapter 9
Tony didn’t kill himself with the bomb, but it was a close thing. Just prior to defusing the main device a third hidden fail safe tripped sending Iron Man careening backwards down eight floors. Given two vital components of his armor were lying on the floor, Tony was actually lucky to survive. Burns on his hands and forearms, nine stitches in his scalp and a nausea inducing concussion that rivaled the most degrading of Tony’s hangovers. He hadn’t even tried to meet Steve’s highly irritated expression when the soldier had climbed into the ambulance, merely let the ice pack pressed to his forehead drip steadily onto the floor.
Using the boot repulsors in a confined space was a something he’d have to practice.
Later, sitting on the kitchen island Tony watched Jarvis apply raw aloe sap to the burns on his wrist. It was 6am and he still hadn’t slept. The return to the mansion and tending of various injuries having left him too wired to relax. Adamantly refusing a bed at the hospital, Tony had stood under a hot shower and attempted to remove several epidermal layers before being snared by Jarvis, clothed in boxers and forced to have his bandages redressed in the kitchen.
Cap had come in ten minutes earlier, equally clean and medicated, poured a cup of coffee and installed himself in a chair at Tony’s side. At the moment the coffee cup was likely pressing a red ring into Steve’s forehead as he silently slumped, aftershock affecting even a war veteran of several years.
Tony chanced a caress, his gauzed fingers dancing lightly through damp golden hair.
“Good.” Jarvis neatly folded the towel on which he’d spread the aid kit, before cleaning up the bandage packaging. “If that’s all Master Anthony, I shall attend to Doctor Banner and the disaster in the red ballroom.”
“Of course, Jarvis.” Tony acknowledged. As the butler passed him to leave, Tony reached out and drew Jarvis into a quick embrace. The perfect posture relented briefly and Tony was granted a short, warm, hug.
“Get some rest lad, I’ll see to lunch in a few hours.” The hand was gentle between Tony’s shoulder-blades.
“Okay.” Tony rubbed his tired eyes on Jarvis’ shoulder and let the older man go to his bed. Picking at the gauze, he sighed quietly.
“Tony…” Steve began.
“If you tell me it’s not my fault I’m going to hit you repeatedly with this antiseptic bottle.” Tony threatened.
A small furrow occurred below the cup imprint that could only be described as cute. “I wasn’t actually, but given how defensive that statement was, maybe you could try opening up to someone about your guilt…”
“No.” Staring at the refrigerator was soothing.
“During the war, America didn’t have doctors to help us understand what we were going through like they do now.” Steve kept speaking despite Tony’s lack of response. “Natasha says there’s someone at SHEILD….”
“Again, no.”
“I have.” That brought Tony’s head around in surprise. Cap looked up showing Tony troubled blue eyes. “These gifts I have, I could take a life so very easily. I’ve wanted to.”
Tony thought for long seconds before he spoke. “I’ve killed a lot of people, both with my weapons and with Iron Man.”
“I know.” So very calm, not even a hint of judgment.
“Me, doing the team thing,” Tony waved a hand vaguely at the upper floors of the mansion where Clint, Thor, Natasha and Bruce were unwinding in their own way. “It’s not really working out, is it?”
“We’ll make it work.” Steve promised; eyes on his cooling coffee. “We need you.”
It was on the tip of Tony’s tongue to repeat the flip answer he’d given Coulson last year, but he caught himself just in time. Even though they’d only known each other for a few months, Tony didn’t want to flirt too heavily or he’d likely send the man running. They were only just recently friends and despite Tony’s libido, no chance in hell of being more than that if he didn’t behave himself. But these last few weeks, from that ‘buy me a hot dog’ not-date in the park and all the shit afterwards, maybe he had a chance after all.
Steve mightn’t be interested in Tony as more than a friend, but he seemed determined to be that much at least. Tony was used to people getting pissed at him, even knew more than a few who wanted to kill him. This whole part of a team where people covered each other’s backs and wanted to help? That level of affection was putting Tony way out of his comfort zone.
“I’ll think about it.” For five seconds then say ‘fuck no’, but he’d give Steve that much.
Of course Cap had spent nearly a year getting to know Tony too. “If not a professional then someone else. Maybe James?”
It took Tony several long seconds to realize who Cap was talking about. “Rhodey? God no. He’d tell me to man up and…”
“Would he really?” Steve asked, eyes once again seeing all Tony’s bullshit excuses and ignoring them completely. “He’s a soldier, he’s seen combat, he’s had to kill and he’s your friend.”
He looked away from that perfect, handsome face and through the window saw the lights come on in the garage.
“Maybe Rhodey. “ He could literally feel Steve’s pleased smile. “I said maybe you pusher. No chance of sleeping now, I’m gonna see how badly I fucked up my armor.”
Sliding off the island, Tony bumped his hip against one khaki shoulder and went in search of clothes.
*****
It took Tony less than a week to repair the damage. Although the explosion had been brutal to his skin, the armor itself had emerged with relatively minor damage. Nevertheless the entire suit needed to be checked over, small repairs made and the finish re-done before Tony would even think about re-absorbing it.
AI Jarvis took on a distinctly fussy tone, pointing out all the minor scratches and dents that probably could pass, but the system wouldn’t even boot up until everything was perfect.
“The original suit absorbed by the ICC software was flawless, Sir. We have no parameters to determine if even the slightest discrepancy between armor conditions will have an impact. I would not recommend allowing even minimally damaged plating to be stored in your bones at this time.” JARVIS was adamant.
“Bitch, bitch, bitch.” Tony teased as he buffered the last weld out of the shin plate.
“He’s right.” Steve agreed from where he was buried head-first in the SS Jaguar’s engine block.
Tony glanced up and was momentarily paralyzed by the upturned excellence of Cap’s denim clad ass. He was going to buy Pepper some ridiculously expensive shoes in thanks for overhauling Steve’s ‘YES I’M IN THE ARMY’ wardrobe. Those jeans were very, very distracting.
“Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding you two are having,” Tony sniped, because yeah, a nice ass didn’t mean he needed another mother-hen. “It’ll be tough to be best man twice, but I’ll do my best.”
A heaving sigh from the Jag.
“Why I would be honored, Sir. The Captain is a fine catch.” Tony sometimes forgot he designed JARVIS’ sense of humor too.
“Rewriting your code,” he muttered under his breath. “Are we done then? Can I do this or do we need another fifteen million sims to make sure I don’t spontaneously combust?”
“Everything is operating within acceptable parameters, Sir.”
“Hallelujah.”
Cap turned from the vintage car, wiping clean hands on an equally clean rag. Tony’s eyes narrowed as he kicked off his boots and took his place on the armor assembly platform.
“What exactly are you doing in my car?” He asked as JARVIS commanded the robotic arms to turn him into Iron Man.
Steve shrugged. “Nothing really.” He tossed the rag onto a work bench. “I don’t really know all that much about cars.”
The helmet locked into place around Tony’s stunned expression. “Are you shitting me…?” But he was cut off as the HUD came online and JARVIS began running simulations.
Always with the simulations.
“Three days you’ve been poking around my garage.” Tony was actually feeling angry now. “I don’t need another fucking babysitter.” He imagined his voice had the harsh mechanical edge it got when fed through Iron Man’s speakers.
“I know that.” Steve was unfazed. Watching Tony put the armor through the motions before returning to the platform.
“Then why hang around?” Jarvis gave him the all clear. Tony took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.
‘Let’s do this,’ he thought.
Just like before, there was no pain, only the vague sense of something pushing at his shoulders and sides. Then his center of balance was all screwy and Tony was catching himself on a nearby assembly arm rather than fall to the ground.
“Guess,” Steve answered his question, blue eyes bright with admiration for Tony’s ability to integrate the armor.
“You have successfully absorbed the armor through the nodes into your skeletal structure, Sir.” JARVIS reported.
As if the lack of Iron Man around Tony could mean anything else.
“You are now 25 pounds heavier.”
Tony hadn’t looked away from Steve. “Give a girl a complex why don’t you Jarvis?”
“Your girlish figure has remained the same as always, Sir. I merely…”
“See you for training tomorrow.” Cap said before heading towards the door.
“Oh fantastic. I’ll be early.” The sarcasm was met with a casual wave and a closed door.
JARVIS was unusually silent.
“Shut up.” Tony snarled before pulling the armor back out.