[Log - Week 7, Day 4] Love Will Tear Us Apart
Who: Steve Rogers (steelandstars ) and Tony Stark (heartless_hawk )
Status: Closed
Style: Third person present
Where: Himorogi
When: Week 7, Day 4
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: MASS ANGST.
Summary: Tony arrives. Steve goes to him.
( You've made it through the storm this far )
Comments 58
His mind is scattered. He can't concentrate to save his life - possibly literally.
He thinks that under the circumstances, it's understandable.
He hears the footsteps before he hears the voice - whoever's come to help him doesn't care about stealth. In the back of his mind, he's trying to think of an Avenger that would still come to his aid without any questions asked - Carol, maybe? But she'd have no reason to use that code... There's too many variables, and Tony can't think.
And then he hears his name being called.
And he thinks, I've gone insane.
There is no way...He turns away, back to the ( ... )
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It's him, he's real, he's okay...
This is all that Steve can think as he moves quickly across the clearing, and throws him arms around Tony. He forgets himself for a moment and maybe squeezes a little too hard; not that Tony isn't used to it.
For the moment, he forgets all the issues he has with Tony; forgets about the War, Asgard, the mind wipe, how angry he is, all of it-- because right now he's just so happy to see his friend, he could probably cry(hell, his eyes are still stinging so he might yet)
He rambles, thoughtless.]
'Christ Tony, thank god you're okay-- I was so worried that you wouldn't make it through the fall in that old armor; you were always complaining about the faults in the 3.8 design but I guess that's the only one Jarvis could get his hands on and I just-
[a heavy sigh, expression the picture of relief]
I'm so glad you're okay.
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the next, he's up close, holding Tony tight in his arms-- too tight, hurting a little, strong and real--
he's talking, talking about the MK3.8-- Tony hadn't worn the 3.8 for years and years--
He has to think. Alternate dimension, perhaps? Time warp?
He's died, in whatever fall Steve's talking about, and he's gone to heaven?
He's not thinking straight. He tries not to overcomplicate things with wild theories-- Occam's Razor, it's helpful, use it.
He still can't think.
He just buried this man, who's warm and alive and hugging him tight now, buried his dead body forty minutes ago in a hole in the cold ice.]
...Steve..?
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He eases his grip, pulls back with his hands planted on Tony's shoulders.
Tony really doesn't look good, all red around the eyes and now pale like he'd seen a ghost.
Eyebrows draw together in concern, and Steve searches Tony's face for answers.]
You are alright, right? What was the last thing you remember?
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It doesn't seem like Steve hates him.
Does Steve hate me..?
Tony closes his eyes. He wonders if he opens them, maybe he'll wake up? This has to be a dream. It's understandable, he thinks, looking into the darkness of his own eyelids with the very real touch of Steve's hands on his shoulders. He takes a moment to feel it, the warmth of Steve's palms through his uniform, the sound of wind in the grass, and opens his eyes.
Everything is still in place.
Tony sways. He has to talk, to explain why he's on the edge of tears, or fainting. He coughs, wets his lips.]
I. I just.
[A flutter of eyelashes. Tony speaks as though he's talking to a ghost, to an apparition. A delusional hallucination.]
I just buried you.
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