[Fic] some things never change
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Self neglect, minor injuries.
Word count: c.980
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.
A/N: For my angst bingo prompt 'accidents'.
***
Tony is everything that JARVIS has ever known. He holds so much knowledge, and if someone asks him a fact or a statistic or a calculation, he has it in seconds. JARVIS knows many things, but not many people know really Tony. Tony is his creator, the constant in his existence, and Tony is the person he knows the best. He’s seen everything that he is.
JARVIS has seen the way that Tony surrounds himself with people that never stay, how the women come and go, and how he pushes away anybody who doesn’t leave. He’s seen the way that he barely even cares about himself sometimes, how he’ll neglect himself until he’s right on the brink. He’s seen him at his best and worst and everything in between.
And this is somewhere on the worse side of in between, but it’s hardly the first time it’s happened.
“Sir,” JARVIS says, his tone growing urgent. “Sir, please let me--”
“No! No,” Tony slurs, trying to drag himself up off the floor. He slumps against one of the benches and tries to pick glass shards out of his arm.
“Sir, please.”
“JARVIS, no. Don’t call anyone. We’ll just deal with it here.”
There’s nothing that JARVIS can do if Tony orders against it, and he knows that it will happen again, and again, but at least it’s always we. And there were times that Tony got into trouble, when he didn’t come home, but never more than a day or two, when JARVIS would chide him for worrying him, and Tony just would laugh it off.
Those three months in Afghanistan were the worst times of JARVIS’ existence. No Tony and no commands, no purpose and nothing, because Tony is everything. A stretch of empty time, void of everything that JARVIS exists for.
Three months and Tony came back changed, but not completely changed, and it’s not long until it happens again.
“JARVIS, don’t even think about it.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to, sir.”
“I know you better than that, JARVIS.” Tony winces. “I don’t need any help, we’ve got some stuff around here for burns...”
“Indeed. It is on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet, sir.”
This has happened too many times, and JARVIS has seen every single one of them. Every accident and every injury gone untreated, every time Tony forbade him to get help. But at least he was there.
JARVIS will always be there for Tony.
But Pepper leaves, and it wasn’t...unexpected. It was something that was always going to happen. She couldn’t handle so much of him in her life, work and home, so she walked away. Nobody expected the Avengers Initiative to work, but JARVIS is so very grateful that it did, because Tony’s not alone anymore.
Asking the Avengers to live with him after that doesn’t seem like a sensible choice; it shouldn’t work. Tony needs people. All that Steve, Clint, and Natasha have are their dreary quarters at SHIELD, and Tony has more than enough space, and Bruce and Thor don’t really have any place to go either.
It’s not long before JARVIS recognizes similarities between Clint and Tony; their habit of getting into dangerous situations against orders and beating the odds, their flippant remarks when they’re trying to mask how shaken they are, and their apparent dislike of medical treatment.
Clint falls off a building and Thor catches him, but the force still cracks a few of his ribs, and when they get back to the tower, he tries to get away with taping them up and going to bed. Natasha instigates an argument that JARVIS has found himself in many times before, but that he has never won.
Fortunately, Natasha is a force that’s difficult to stop, and she starts with telling him, “Come on, let’s go,” to straight out ordering him to get down to the medical bay when he says that he’s fine, and he follows her almost meekly. JARVIS notes that it’s almost something of a role reversal of his situation; if only he couldn’t be stopped with a mere order.
The Avengers are good for Tony, but still, some things never change, and the next time Tony’s thrown against a wall and starts bleeding from the head, JARVIS continues the ongoing argument.
“No, JARVIS, I’m fine. Leave it.”
“Sir, you most likely have a concussion. Let me call somebody to check on you.”
“I said it’s fine.” Tony hauls himself off the ground and tries not to stumble. It doesn’t work. “Look, it’s the middle of the night, everyone’s sleeping. Don’t wake anyone up.”
“Sir--”
“Mute.”
JARVIS watches silently as Tony washes the blood out of his eyes, and notes that Steve is in the gym, destroying another one of Tony’s punching bags.
“Captain Rogers,” JARVIS says, and Steve jumps, still unused to JARVIS’ unexpected appearances. “Sir requires your assistance down in the workshop, if you please.”
“Uh, sure.”
When Steve reaches the workshop, Tony’s cursing and wincing as he tries to clean the deep cut on his forehead.
“Tony! What happened?” Tony looks up in surprise. “Um, JARVIS said you needed help.”
Tony groans. “JARVIS, I told you not to call anyone.”
“Captain Rogers was awake and in the gym, sir. You instructed me not to wake anyone up.”
“You’re a sneaky bastard, JARVIS.”
“I learned from the best, sir.”
Tony rolls his eyes. “Sorry he bothered you, Cap, it’s fine.”
“No, you’re hurt,” Steve says, insistent.
“It’s nothing.”
When Steve holds his hand out for the antiseptic, Tony glares at him, but Steve just gives him a look, and it’s hard to say no to Captain America, of all people, so he hands it over. While Steve’s fussing over the wound, JARVIS says, “Thank you, Captain Rogers.”
“Don’t make me wipe your code, JARVIS,” Tony threatens, and Steve laughs.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Self neglect, minor injuries.
Word count: c.980
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.
A/N: For my angst bingo prompt 'accidents'.
***
Tony is everything that JARVIS has ever known. He holds so much knowledge, and if someone asks him a fact or a statistic or a calculation, he has it in seconds. JARVIS knows many things, but not many people know really Tony. Tony is his creator, the constant in his existence, and Tony is the person he knows the best. He’s seen everything that he is.
JARVIS has seen the way that Tony surrounds himself with people that never stay, how the women come and go, and how he pushes away anybody who doesn’t leave. He’s seen the way that he barely even cares about himself sometimes, how he’ll neglect himself until he’s right on the brink. He’s seen him at his best and worst and everything in between.
And this is somewhere on the worse side of in between, but it’s hardly the first time it’s happened.
“Sir,” JARVIS says, his tone growing urgent. “Sir, please let me--”
“No! No,” Tony slurs, trying to drag himself up off the floor. He slumps against one of the benches and tries to pick glass shards out of his arm.
“Sir, please.”
“JARVIS, no. Don’t call anyone. We’ll just deal with it here.”
There’s nothing that JARVIS can do if Tony orders against it, and he knows that it will happen again, and again, but at least it’s always we. And there were times that Tony got into trouble, when he didn’t come home, but never more than a day or two, when JARVIS would chide him for worrying him, and Tony just would laugh it off.
Those three months in Afghanistan were the worst times of JARVIS’ existence. No Tony and no commands, no purpose and nothing, because Tony is everything. A stretch of empty time, void of everything that JARVIS exists for.
Three months and Tony came back changed, but not completely changed, and it’s not long until it happens again.
“JARVIS, don’t even think about it.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to, sir.”
“I know you better than that, JARVIS.” Tony winces. “I don’t need any help, we’ve got some stuff around here for burns...”
“Indeed. It is on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet, sir.”
This has happened too many times, and JARVIS has seen every single one of them. Every accident and every injury gone untreated, every time Tony forbade him to get help. But at least he was there.
JARVIS will always be there for Tony.
But Pepper leaves, and it wasn’t...unexpected. It was something that was always going to happen. She couldn’t handle so much of him in her life, work and home, so she walked away. Nobody expected the Avengers Initiative to work, but JARVIS is so very grateful that it did, because Tony’s not alone anymore.
Asking the Avengers to live with him after that doesn’t seem like a sensible choice; it shouldn’t work. Tony needs people. All that Steve, Clint, and Natasha have are their dreary quarters at SHIELD, and Tony has more than enough space, and Bruce and Thor don’t really have any place to go either.
It’s not long before JARVIS recognizes similarities between Clint and Tony; their habit of getting into dangerous situations against orders and beating the odds, their flippant remarks when they’re trying to mask how shaken they are, and their apparent dislike of medical treatment.
Clint falls off a building and Thor catches him, but the force still cracks a few of his ribs, and when they get back to the tower, he tries to get away with taping them up and going to bed. Natasha instigates an argument that JARVIS has found himself in many times before, but that he has never won.
Fortunately, Natasha is a force that’s difficult to stop, and she starts with telling him, “Come on, let’s go,” to straight out ordering him to get down to the medical bay when he says that he’s fine, and he follows her almost meekly. JARVIS notes that it’s almost something of a role reversal of his situation; if only he couldn’t be stopped with a mere order.
The Avengers are good for Tony, but still, some things never change, and the next time Tony’s thrown against a wall and starts bleeding from the head, JARVIS continues the ongoing argument.
“No, JARVIS, I’m fine. Leave it.”
“Sir, you most likely have a concussion. Let me call somebody to check on you.”
“I said it’s fine.” Tony hauls himself off the ground and tries not to stumble. It doesn’t work. “Look, it’s the middle of the night, everyone’s sleeping. Don’t wake anyone up.”
“Sir--”
“Mute.”
JARVIS watches silently as Tony washes the blood out of his eyes, and notes that Steve is in the gym, destroying another one of Tony’s punching bags.
“Captain Rogers,” JARVIS says, and Steve jumps, still unused to JARVIS’ unexpected appearances. “Sir requires your assistance down in the workshop, if you please.”
“Uh, sure.”
When Steve reaches the workshop, Tony’s cursing and wincing as he tries to clean the deep cut on his forehead.
“Tony! What happened?” Tony looks up in surprise. “Um, JARVIS said you needed help.”
Tony groans. “JARVIS, I told you not to call anyone.”
“Captain Rogers was awake and in the gym, sir. You instructed me not to wake anyone up.”
“You’re a sneaky bastard, JARVIS.”
“I learned from the best, sir.”
Tony rolls his eyes. “Sorry he bothered you, Cap, it’s fine.”
“No, you’re hurt,” Steve says, insistent.
“It’s nothing.”
When Steve holds his hand out for the antiseptic, Tony glares at him, but Steve just gives him a look, and it’s hard to say no to Captain America, of all people, so he hands it over. While Steve’s fussing over the wound, JARVIS says, “Thank you, Captain Rogers.”
“Don’t make me wipe your code, JARVIS,” Tony threatens, and Steve laughs.