Breakdown (RP with shadeof_grey and iron_tony)

[starspangledcap]

[OOC: House of TM RP with shadeof_grey and iron_tony. Takes place after this last night of happiness, on the morning of Steve and Tony's anniversary party.]

“Stop!” Wanda yelled, holding her hands out in front of her. Steve found himself frozen, his face twisted into a grotesque, rage-filled grimace, his blood burning with anger-at Tony, at himself, at Wanda and

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[shadeof_grey]

Jean had been having a rough few days, an undeniable fact that had been handling, in her usual factor, by trying to ignore it. Since the disastrous shopping trip with Neena, she had been staying in her room whenever she wasn't absolutely needed, and sleeping a lot. Of course, the dreams only made it worse.

The one comfort that was sustaining her was that she was surrounded by people who were stronger and more assured than she was. Wanda was fine, Tony was fine, Steve was fine. Especially Steve. Steve was as solid and dependable as they came.

So, on the morning of the party, the last thing she expected was to be awoken by a psychic distress call from Steve. Hastily she pulled on her robe and ran to the bathroom. Knocking on the door, she said, "What's wrong?" She tried to pretend that she wasn't hearing what she was hearing, but there was no way to deny the thoughts she was picking up. They were too distressed and scattered to understand, but whatever it was, it had to be bad. "Please open the door, Steve."

*OOC -- OMG,

[starspangledcap]

Steve heard Jean's voice on the other side of the door. She'd come more quickly than he'd expected. Looking down, he felt suddenly embarrased; he didn't want Jean to see him like this, half-naked and clinging to a toilet. Standing up, he reached for one of the robes hanging on the door and pulled it on over his boxer-clad form, realizing only belatedly that it was actually Tony's robe. It smelled like him. Steve tried very hard to ignore that fact.

Tying the belt of the robe, he turned to the sink and quickly rinsed the vomit out of his mouth before opening the door and motioning for Jean to come in.

"We have to speak telepathically. I don't want to wake Tony," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it was still his battle voice, clear and crisp and commanding, simulating a confidence he couldn't make himself feel.

When Jean was safely inside the room and the door was shut behind them, Steve opened his mind. Something is very, very wrong, Jean, he sent. And I think... I think you know that, though maybe you don't consciously realize

[shadeof_grey]

Jean felt the color wash out of her skin. Steve wasn't supposed to have doubts. Not Steve.

You're right. There's something going on, someone I don't trust -- Jean hesitated. It was actually very hard to lie, telepathically, especially to someone who knew her as well as Steve did. But she couldn't say it was Wanda who was giving her suspicions. She might be wrong. She wanted to be wrong. Somebody's doing something to make the world wrong. I think it might be Domino.

[starspangledcap]

Steve shook his head. It's not Domino, he said, hesitantly.

Inwardly, he cringed. So Jean knew something, but not as much as he did. And now he was going to have to tell her - he was going to have to tell a woman who considered him to be one of her closest friends (in this world, at least; in the old world they'd barely known each other, and Steve wasn't sure which of those relationships counted more) that she'd been dragged into a fantasy world against her will. He thought of his own reactions, just moments earlier; he thought of the turmoil still going on in his brain, the way he felt two seconds away from breaking. He didn't want to inflict that on another human being. Maybe they could leave the world be, for a little longer. Maybe he could just pretend...

No. They had to do this. No matter how much it would hurt.

Last night, he explained, taking the gentlest route, when I fought Madame Morpho, she did something to me. I don't know what. But when I woke up this morning, I had memories - full memories - of a world

[iron_tony]

Tony isn't used to waking up and not seeing Steve next to him. Steve's an early riser by most standards, but Tony doesn't sleep much at all.

So he wakes to see the covers not only thrown aside, but, obviously, thrown aside with haste. He can't figure out what woke him until he hears the noises from the bathroom. Sprinting down the hall, he bangs on the door. "Steve? What the hell is going on in there?"

[starspangledcap]

Tony. Oh, God. Steve's still hasn't figured out how he's going to deal with him, and now he's here.

He looks at Jean, a little panicked. Don't say anything to him, he sends, switching back to telepathy. He's not a telepath; he might not even believe in the other timeline if we tell him, and he's too vulnerable to whatever Wanda might throw at us without his armor near him.

Because, of course, in this reality, Tony doesn't have the Extremis armor, doesn't have the ability to call his suit to him at will. So not telling him is really just a form of protecting him. It has nothing to do with the fact that a subconscious part of Steve still wants to cling to this reality for a little while longer.

"Nothing's going on, Tony," he says, keeping his voice normal, and he opens the door to let him in.

[iron_tony]

"Then what the hell --" Tony burst through the door and saw Jean, leaning against the sink, wide-eyed and out of breath. But his gaze quickly went to Steve, who looked like absolute hell.

His arm went to his husband's shoulder. "What's wrong?" and, while it made no sense, it was the only thing that Tony could think of that would make Steve this distraught. "Did something happen to Sally?"

[starspangledcap]

Steve looked up at Tony's face and his breath caught for a second in his throat, filling him with a torrent of emotions that were indistinguishable and mostly indescribable, though sadness was chief among them.

"No, no, Sally's fine," he replied, though his mind screamed at him as he said it. She won't be fine when you make Wanda erase her from existence, his brain taunted.

But he did his best to ignore his dark thoughts and concentrated instead on schooling his face into an expression of self-effacing bemusement. "Sorry, I... I cut myself shaving, and Jean must have heard my mental distress signal, so she came running. I'm fine. Just a little embarrassed." He smiled in a way that he hoped looked genuine.