rei17
in
120_minuten
H/C: Blutverlust (für mich - macht dann ne Weltherrschaft)
Team: Novalis
Fandom: The Avengers
Charaktere: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Challenge: H/C: Blutverlust
Wörter: ~1000
Vorwort: Ich hab schon keine Ahnung mehr was ich hier tue ... sorry .... x_x
It’s only when everything is said and done, New York is safe again (even if a little damaged), Steve realizes how angry he is.
It's a somewhat vague feeling, cushioned between exhaustion and relief to be alive, but still there.
He watches smoke curling up from pieces of burnt rubble and stills mid-movement. He’s supposed to be searching for…something, but right now, he just can’t. His shield rests next to him and he feels a little lightheaded all of the sudden, part exhaustion from the long fight and part feeling as if somebody had just pulled the ground from under his feet.
They have almost died.
Again.
Some of them more than others.
“Mr. Stark.” He hears the gentle whirr of Tony’s rocket boots touching the ground and doesn’t even need to turn around to know who it is.
There’s a soft, 'woshing sound which indicates Tony has opened the armor’s faceplate. “Captain.”
And here they are now, Steve thinks. Weeks of training, fighting, surviving later and there’s still a constant undercurrent of tension between them.
Steve has learned by now that Tony is not as shallow, arrogant and self-absorbed as he appears sometimes, but he still doesn’t know what to make of the man.
It’s easier with Iron Man, a lot easier. Steve has come to rely on Iron Man during the last few weeks, not only on the undeniable strength the armor possesses, but also his intelligence, resourcefulness and the self-sacrificing courage.
Well Steve could really do without the self-sacrificing-part sometimes. Like today.
“Looks like we did save the world one more time”, Tony states matter-of-factly.
“Yeah.” Steve nods, still not looking at him. They did, didn’t they?
It should feel better, he thinks, it should feel more important, but right now all he’s able to feel is the bone-deep weariness of weeks getting too less sleep, drinking too much caffeine, watching his teammates get hurt again and again and then one more time.
And he's so angry at Tony, he feels like vibrating.
He hasn’t even realized Tony is still talking.
“Which is cool, I guess”, he just says. “Maybe except for saving tax authorities, press agencies and teenagers. We could really do without those.”
“What do you have against teenagers?” Steve asks almost against his will.
“Oh absolutely nothing, except they make me feel old and decidedly not-cool. But at least they keep investing millions of dollars into Stark industries high-tech equipment, so there might be some good to come of it. You could really do with a Stark phone, you know? You could do with a lot of Stark technology actually, now that you’re here anyway. Embrace the future and all that jazz. We are the absolute market leaders, in case you didn’t know. Of course there’s still Apple, but…”
Tony is rambling Steve realizes with a start, which means he’s rattled about something. Rambling is Tony’s default setting and he always reverts to it when he doesn’t know what else to do.
Steve turns around and looks at him for the first time.
“You’re hurt”, he says and something clenches deep in his stomach.
“That?” Tony makes a dismissive gesture. “It’s only superficial, the armor is still functioning properly, just some dents and burns, but…”
“I’m not talking about the armor.” There’s blood running down the left side of Tony’s face and his dark hair sticks matted to his forehead.
“Oh.” Tony pauses. “Yeah.”
His face is pale and sweaty and his eyes look a little bit unfocused. Steve wants to yell at him, but maybe not right now, not when he's so obviously hurt and looks as if he's barely standing.
“Why aren’t you over there, getting yourself checked out by paramedics?” he asks and is almost surprised by the amount of anger in his voice.
“I hate paramedics. They keep sticking needles in me.”
“You could have a concussion.”
“I don’t like people sticking things into me.” Tony pauses. “That came out wrong.”
“Or inner bleeding.”
“I do like some people sticking things into me. But not needles.”
“You could be bleeding to death right now and all you think about is which people you would want to stick things into you?!”
Tony looks at him contemplative as if he doesn’t really know what to make of Steve’s outburst. Steve doesn’t really know either. He’s just…tired. And he’s tired of seeing people getting hurt.
“I’m not bleeding to death”, Tony says eventually. “My armor runs scans of my physical status every few seconds. There would be a little red lamp going on if I were in imminent danger of bleeding out.”
“A little red lamp”, Steve repeats.
“Like, you know, an alert. Flashing lights rotating, hysterical beeping, red lamps going on, the whole shebang.”
“And with how much time would that leave you to do something about bleeding to death?”
Tony frowns. “About two minutes, give or takes. After that remaining conscious would be a problem.”
Steve feels a headache coming on. He was told the super-soldier-serum should make him immune to those, but obviously they didn’t know about Tony Stark when they told him.
“Wouldn’t it be great to be able to do something to prevent you from bleeding to death before you only got two minutes left to live? Just a suggestion.”
“Was that an attempt at sarcasm, Captain? I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Whatever sharp reply Steve had in mind, he doesn’t get around to say it, because all of a sudden Tony sways a little and even Steve with his nonexistent high-tech knowledge can pinpoint the exact the moment when it’s only the armor keeping him upright.
“Shit.”
“Cursing, Captain? I’m shocked.” Tony says, but his smirk is a pale imitation of his usual one. “People might think I’m a bad influence.”
"Stop it."
"Being my charming self? Hardly possible."
" Don't think, this is over. We will talk about that, Stark!" Steve hisses. "But for now - listen to me at least for once and let yourself get checked out."
Fandom: The Avengers
Charaktere: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Challenge: H/C: Blutverlust
Wörter: ~1000
Vorwort: Ich hab schon keine Ahnung mehr was ich hier tue ... sorry .... x_x
It’s only when everything is said and done, New York is safe again (even if a little damaged), Steve realizes how angry he is.
It's a somewhat vague feeling, cushioned between exhaustion and relief to be alive, but still there.
He watches smoke curling up from pieces of burnt rubble and stills mid-movement. He’s supposed to be searching for…something, but right now, he just can’t. His shield rests next to him and he feels a little lightheaded all of the sudden, part exhaustion from the long fight and part feeling as if somebody had just pulled the ground from under his feet.
They have almost died.
Again.
Some of them more than others.
“Mr. Stark.” He hears the gentle whirr of Tony’s rocket boots touching the ground and doesn’t even need to turn around to know who it is.
There’s a soft, 'woshing sound which indicates Tony has opened the armor’s faceplate. “Captain.”
And here they are now, Steve thinks. Weeks of training, fighting, surviving later and there’s still a constant undercurrent of tension between them.
Steve has learned by now that Tony is not as shallow, arrogant and self-absorbed as he appears sometimes, but he still doesn’t know what to make of the man.
It’s easier with Iron Man, a lot easier. Steve has come to rely on Iron Man during the last few weeks, not only on the undeniable strength the armor possesses, but also his intelligence, resourcefulness and the self-sacrificing courage.
Well Steve could really do without the self-sacrificing-part sometimes. Like today.
“Looks like we did save the world one more time”, Tony states matter-of-factly.
“Yeah.” Steve nods, still not looking at him. They did, didn’t they?
It should feel better, he thinks, it should feel more important, but right now all he’s able to feel is the bone-deep weariness of weeks getting too less sleep, drinking too much caffeine, watching his teammates get hurt again and again and then one more time.
And he's so angry at Tony, he feels like vibrating.
He hasn’t even realized Tony is still talking.
“Which is cool, I guess”, he just says. “Maybe except for saving tax authorities, press agencies and teenagers. We could really do without those.”
“What do you have against teenagers?” Steve asks almost against his will.
“Oh absolutely nothing, except they make me feel old and decidedly not-cool. But at least they keep investing millions of dollars into Stark industries high-tech equipment, so there might be some good to come of it. You could really do with a Stark phone, you know? You could do with a lot of Stark technology actually, now that you’re here anyway. Embrace the future and all that jazz. We are the absolute market leaders, in case you didn’t know. Of course there’s still Apple, but…”
Tony is rambling Steve realizes with a start, which means he’s rattled about something. Rambling is Tony’s default setting and he always reverts to it when he doesn’t know what else to do.
Steve turns around and looks at him for the first time.
“You’re hurt”, he says and something clenches deep in his stomach.
“That?” Tony makes a dismissive gesture. “It’s only superficial, the armor is still functioning properly, just some dents and burns, but…”
“I’m not talking about the armor.” There’s blood running down the left side of Tony’s face and his dark hair sticks matted to his forehead.
“Oh.” Tony pauses. “Yeah.”
His face is pale and sweaty and his eyes look a little bit unfocused. Steve wants to yell at him, but maybe not right now, not when he's so obviously hurt and looks as if he's barely standing.
“Why aren’t you over there, getting yourself checked out by paramedics?” he asks and is almost surprised by the amount of anger in his voice.
“I hate paramedics. They keep sticking needles in me.”
“You could have a concussion.”
“I don’t like people sticking things into me.” Tony pauses. “That came out wrong.”
“Or inner bleeding.”
“I do like some people sticking things into me. But not needles.”
“You could be bleeding to death right now and all you think about is which people you would want to stick things into you?!”
Tony looks at him contemplative as if he doesn’t really know what to make of Steve’s outburst. Steve doesn’t really know either. He’s just…tired. And he’s tired of seeing people getting hurt.
“I’m not bleeding to death”, Tony says eventually. “My armor runs scans of my physical status every few seconds. There would be a little red lamp going on if I were in imminent danger of bleeding out.”
“A little red lamp”, Steve repeats.
“Like, you know, an alert. Flashing lights rotating, hysterical beeping, red lamps going on, the whole shebang.”
“And with how much time would that leave you to do something about bleeding to death?”
Tony frowns. “About two minutes, give or takes. After that remaining conscious would be a problem.”
Steve feels a headache coming on. He was told the super-soldier-serum should make him immune to those, but obviously they didn’t know about Tony Stark when they told him.
“Wouldn’t it be great to be able to do something to prevent you from bleeding to death before you only got two minutes left to live? Just a suggestion.”
“Was that an attempt at sarcasm, Captain? I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Whatever sharp reply Steve had in mind, he doesn’t get around to say it, because all of a sudden Tony sways a little and even Steve with his nonexistent high-tech knowledge can pinpoint the exact the moment when it’s only the armor keeping him upright.
“Shit.”
“Cursing, Captain? I’m shocked.” Tony says, but his smirk is a pale imitation of his usual one. “People might think I’m a bad influence.”
"Stop it."
"Being my charming self? Hardly possible."
" Don't think, this is over. We will talk about that, Stark!" Steve hisses. "But for now - listen to me at least for once and let yourself get checked out."