[ficlet] the uncertain bridge between mind and matter.
Title: the uncertain bridge between mind and matter.
Fandom: Avengers Movie-'verse.
Rating: PG.
Characters/Pairings: cyborg!Steve, Tony, JARVIS.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 516 words.
Summary: Tony offers another smile and reaches into the electronic guts of the machine, extracting a few wires; seemingly oblivious to precisely what the sight of an eviscerated cyborg is doing to Steve's state of mind.
Notes:
ravenspear inspired this. <3
---
Tony offers another smile and reaches into the electronic guts of the machine, extracting a few wires; seemingly oblivious to precisely what the sight of an eviscerated cyborg is doing to Steve's state of mind.
"Tony," Steve tries, because this doesn't feel right.
"Ah, no, not taking in commentary right now," Tony says. "Giving it, sure. Unless you want me to go call up Bruce and get him to start regrowing you a whole crop of organs, you're going to have to live with my patch-up job, and that means I need supplies, and guess what! JARVIS can live without a complete shell for another week or three."
"I would object, sir," JARVIS says mildly, but Tony just waves a hand at the ceiling.
"That's - meant for JARVIS?" Steve asks, giving the empty shell Tony's digging into a better look, and no, he can't see it. The facial structure, the hair...nothing of it reminds him of JARVIS' voice even remotely.
Then again, in this brave new future nothing has matched up with what he's expected yet, and far be it from Tony to fail to surprise him.
Tony comes back to where he's seated on the table with wires and glowing pieces of metal and squints at Steve's exposed midsection.
"We're getting you better plating for the armor," Tony says, reaching for a scalpel. Steve knows that it won't hurt, but it will be another century before he's used to a body that's more machine than man, no matter how convincing it looks.
It takes more willpower than he'd like to keep his hands at his sides instead of moving to push Tony's hands away from his stomach as Tony cuts into him.
He has to look away, for example. Watching as Tony puts a hand into him, and feeling as Tony tugs - it's times like this where everything feels hazy and indistinct, as if it's all been a massive dream, a horrible fever dream.
"You're sure," Steve says, and bites his tongue as Tony pulls his chin around to face him.
"You're an original," Tony says, steady, holding his chin firmly so he can't look away. "There are lines I'm almost ready to cross, but I wouldn't make a replica of you, and I'm the best there is. Everything up here," he knocks on Steve's head lightly, "Is fleshy, organic, and was freeze-dried over a century ago."
"You don't have to do that every time," Steve says, holding still as Tony bends to work at him again.
"Do you believe me yet?"
"Yes, but..." Steve shakes his head. "It's hard, sometimes."
Tony looks up at him, thoughtful, before plugging a cord in. "Will you let me give you the capacity to get drunk now?"
"No," Steve says, because if he did agree he'd get drunk and he wouldn't stop.
"Great," Tony says, and taps at his screens, frowning at readings Steve can't begin to understand. "Now shut up, we've got intel that expires tonight, and I need to get you sown up before then."
Steve closes his eyes. Some things, he thinks, never change.
---
Fandom: Avengers Movie-'verse.
Rating: PG.
Characters/Pairings: cyborg!Steve, Tony, JARVIS.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 516 words.
Summary: Tony offers another smile and reaches into the electronic guts of the machine, extracting a few wires; seemingly oblivious to precisely what the sight of an eviscerated cyborg is doing to Steve's state of mind.
Notes:
ravenspear inspired this. <3
---
Tony offers another smile and reaches into the electronic guts of the machine, extracting a few wires; seemingly oblivious to precisely what the sight of an eviscerated cyborg is doing to Steve's state of mind.
"Tony," Steve tries, because this doesn't feel right.
"Ah, no, not taking in commentary right now," Tony says. "Giving it, sure. Unless you want me to go call up Bruce and get him to start regrowing you a whole crop of organs, you're going to have to live with my patch-up job, and that means I need supplies, and guess what! JARVIS can live without a complete shell for another week or three."
"I would object, sir," JARVIS says mildly, but Tony just waves a hand at the ceiling.
"That's - meant for JARVIS?" Steve asks, giving the empty shell Tony's digging into a better look, and no, he can't see it. The facial structure, the hair...nothing of it reminds him of JARVIS' voice even remotely.
Then again, in this brave new future nothing has matched up with what he's expected yet, and far be it from Tony to fail to surprise him.
Tony comes back to where he's seated on the table with wires and glowing pieces of metal and squints at Steve's exposed midsection.
"We're getting you better plating for the armor," Tony says, reaching for a scalpel. Steve knows that it won't hurt, but it will be another century before he's used to a body that's more machine than man, no matter how convincing it looks.
It takes more willpower than he'd like to keep his hands at his sides instead of moving to push Tony's hands away from his stomach as Tony cuts into him.
He has to look away, for example. Watching as Tony puts a hand into him, and feeling as Tony tugs - it's times like this where everything feels hazy and indistinct, as if it's all been a massive dream, a horrible fever dream.
"You're sure," Steve says, and bites his tongue as Tony pulls his chin around to face him.
"You're an original," Tony says, steady, holding his chin firmly so he can't look away. "There are lines I'm almost ready to cross, but I wouldn't make a replica of you, and I'm the best there is. Everything up here," he knocks on Steve's head lightly, "Is fleshy, organic, and was freeze-dried over a century ago."
"You don't have to do that every time," Steve says, holding still as Tony bends to work at him again.
"Do you believe me yet?"
"Yes, but..." Steve shakes his head. "It's hard, sometimes."
Tony looks up at him, thoughtful, before plugging a cord in. "Will you let me give you the capacity to get drunk now?"
"No," Steve says, because if he did agree he'd get drunk and he wouldn't stop.
"Great," Tony says, and taps at his screens, frowning at readings Steve can't begin to understand. "Now shut up, we've got intel that expires tonight, and I need to get you sown up before then."
Steve closes his eyes. Some things, he thinks, never change.
---