Fic: All I Need (1/?)
Title: All I Need
Series: Marvel/Avengers
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: PG (This part)
Beta: Thanks tsukinofaerii , ellyr_in_ink , and jazzypom
Summary: After being tried for his actions involving the SHRA, Tony is forced under house arrest. But he's not a prisoner in his own home. Instead, he has to live with Steve.
In the end, he has already known that this was going to happen.
Tony Stark is hardly a fatalist, quite the opposite actually, but he would have to be a more of a fool than he already was to not see the truth. It’s just a futurist idea, for example.
Betrayed and cast off in the wind, cornered against the wall in the future that he hadn’t wanted - this is only thing he had received for giving up everything for power.
So it is. Hubris. Peripeteia.
It was only the things that he had done with his own hands that have caused him to be here, and now he can be his own tragic hero.
All of those people he had been on the same side with forever, led, they're here to see nothing less than his head on a plate. They’re close, getting closer, all of them in his line of sight with their gaudy adornments and flash y colors, and now, even his armor can’t protect him from all of them at once.
Tony gasps, tries to run away like a coward, but there’s only solid wall against his fingertips. He stares at the floor.
Then the amorphous mass stops, and out walks unmistakable red boots. Tony doesn’t draw his gaze up, only hearing the footsteps echo louder than anything. A gloved hand appears in front of
him, wanting Tony to reach up, and against all rationality, there he is - Captain America.
Only he in the end can save him, and some things still have stayed the same.
--
After that, they don’t meet again until the trial. It passes smoothly, relatively without incidence. For one thing, there are no underhanded supervillains trying to manipulate the event to their own ends.
Tony doesn’t even attempt to defend himself. Jennifer had volunteered half-heartedly, partly out of whatever formal loyalty to the cause was left and then the fact that Tony could be tried faster, and therefore receive his punishment faster as well.
On the other side is the prosecution - Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, and Steve. His face is colored with disappointment when their eyes meet. On Tony’s face, there is nothing.
The rest of the witnesses sit apart from them, as well as the spectators, rubberneckers. It’s funny to see suc a large group of superheroes dressed up in formal civilian wear, carrying out their justice through such a mundane system, when they have so much power in their hands. All of them.
The list of charges is not so physically long, but it’s quality over quantity that matters. Perjury. Conspiracy. Sedition.
Steve’s face is especially pained on the last word.
Tony could lie right now, claw out whatever last bit of escape he could get. But instead, he understands and accepts the term of his imprisonment. For him, it’s the same as giving up.
“House arrest” is his sentence. But it is not at his own home.
In other words, he is Steve’s prisoner.
--
The two of them walk down the steps of the courthouse, shadows long against the white marble. Steve walks in front, leading Tony who has his hands behind his back, hands only restrained by a set of handcuffs that he would have managed to break just a few days ago.
“I was dreaming of the day that I was going to bring you to this courthouse,” Tony says, devoid of anything. Lifeless.
It disturbs Steve so much how there’s nothing in his voice, nothing to suggest that once Tony hadn’t thought of him as a “stupid idealist.” They once had smiled and laughed with each other, actually.
“I’d get you tried and everyone would hate me, but it would be worth it in the end.”
No matter how much willpower Steve has, it is over because it was Tony’s choice he is now too far gone.
A SHIELD-deployed car is waiting to escort them, as if they were petty villains. In the car, silence fogs the air and they don’t talk. Tony stares intently out of the window to the city, his city, and away from Steve. It’s probably the last time he’ll be able to see it.
Finally, the car stops, and Steve is at home. Their home now.
“His personal belongings will be delivered in a few days time,” the driver tersely informs him.
As the two of them walk up the stairwell, there is finally a hint of weakness.
“I don’t think I deserve this,” Tony says.
--
Steve’s apartment hasn’t changed that much since the last time Tony was here. It’s one-bedroom, neat and modest and maybe quaint. The warm and inviting feeling tries to hang on from the time they had happy memories here.
The first thing Steve does when they step in is unlock Tony’s handcuffs. The clever hands fall free uselessly to his sides and Steve watches them. They can turn common tools into his own weapons of destruction, and nothing would stop from him from turning this room into a pile of ashes.
But amid such low expectations, Tony does not attempt to struggle. He just stares down, looks away from Steve’s eyes, at his hands.
Before, Steve would have trusted them with his life.
Steve has been through a lot, so much, but he still hesitates, has to breathe in deeply. “Make yourself at home,” he says, as if he was talking to a complete stranger, and that’s most disturbing thing of all.
Tony makes him nervous in a way that bombs and telekinesis can’t, but Tony Stark is not a common enemy.
The two of them stand there with a failure to communicate, when Tony unexpectedly looks up and asks, “This just like a sleepover, isn’t it?”
Steve is just places his hand on Tony’s shoulder and says, “Yes.”
And this is the beginning of the rest of their lives.
--
It had all began when Tony walked in that day and leaned in close to Steve and smiled that smile of his. That had been nothing out of the usual.
“Steve, do you know that the future is arriving?” Tony asked, breath so close to Steve’s face.
Tony would be surer of this than anyone else, and Steve curiously, cautiously asked, “What this?” just like with all of the times Tony had shown him what the world was becoming.
“Can you imagine a world where all of us superheroes can work together? We could put together all of our strength, for a purpose. We could all put the power given to us…responsibly. Just like you would like, right?”
To the unthinking mind, it would have been so easy to think his ideas were perfect, to be entranced by his silver tongue and lofty promises. Tony was a fair seducer, and he was good at what he did.
“And this is how the world will be,” he triumphantly proclaimed, with a sweep of his hand. “And you and I can be on the top of it. Together.”
It would’ve been easy to let his friend coax him, beguile him with his familiarity, and surely victory would have been achieved easily…
Then Steve asked, “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing. But Steve, haven’t you done bad things before? This is for the greater good.”
…but Tony had not been honest.
Tony’s smile disappeared for a little bit as he looked straight into Steve’s eyes. Without saying a word, Steve knew that Tony had already figured out what he thought and Steve knew what Tony was going to do. That was the price to be paid for knowing the other.
Then it was, unhesitantly, “Oh, Steve, you’re so stubborn... Fine then. You can stay where you are. I don’t need you.”
The last sentence echoed in Steve’s ears. It shouldn’t have hurt so much.
Without dropping that smile, it was easy for Tony to wash away all of the years of accumulated friendship. Without looking back, Tony walked out the door, and that was that.
--
This is a cage and it has no bars.
There is nothing physically stopping Tony from turning the handle on that door and leaving, free to wreak havoc on the world. But of course, a cage had to be better designed than that.
Hansen and her colleagues were smart, but no match for Reed and Pym. They hadn’t hesitated to disable Extremis, bend it to their will, to drop away their former friend as if his ideas would contaminate them too. No chances, they had said, as if he couldn't be trusted. Of course he couldn’t.
But they didn't need to turn it into a shock collar or alarm system with such gaudy deterrents to make a prison. All they had to put on him was a simple GPS system, efficient and beautiful, a pithy back up security measure.
Right now, Tony could throw himself out of the window, transcended those two centimeters separating him from the rest of the living, breathing world, where things are things are happening and changing, and he'd feel the broken glass tear against his skin and the air too and he'd be free. But he can't.
Because Steve is right there and Tony feels his gaze against his back leaving their brands of his anger, his lack of trust, and worst, his disappointment. The silent pacing says more than words ever could. But there is no hate.
It would be so easy for Tony to sink to the level that Steve can't, because it would be so much easier to escape guards and walls, which are nothing to Tony who is too good for guilt. They are the reason he was Iron Man in the first place, and ironically, they are the reason he is back in them again. But the small thought of escaping fills him with so much shame.
Tony can't look back and he can't move forwards.
He only stares through the window and watches the world without him. This is the worst punishment and never before was the idea of escape nonexistent, without hope, hope which makes everything possible. That's how a bird with clipped wings feels, free to go anywhere and nowhere, and Tony's wings were pinioned too, then torn off and ripped apart, eviscerated and the wounds don't clot and Tony can't stop drowning in his own blood-
The melted wax of his wings have burned him indeed.
Below, the people pass on by, not noticing anyone up there, and so do the streetlights and buildings and all of the cars and everything other intangible thing of the city that has forgotten him as a bad memory. There is nothing outside for him, and Tony stares out at it into the edge of forever.
A/N: Loved it? Hated it? Comments about my fic are very much appreciated!
Series: Marvel/Avengers
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: PG (This part)
Beta: Thanks tsukinofaerii , ellyr_in_ink , and jazzypom
Summary: After being tried for his actions involving the SHRA, Tony is forced under house arrest. But he's not a prisoner in his own home. Instead, he has to live with Steve.
In the end, he has already known that this was going to happen.
Tony Stark is hardly a fatalist, quite the opposite actually, but he would have to be a more of a fool than he already was to not see the truth. It’s just a futurist idea, for example.
Betrayed and cast off in the wind, cornered against the wall in the future that he hadn’t wanted - this is only thing he had received for giving up everything for power.
So it is. Hubris. Peripeteia.
It was only the things that he had done with his own hands that have caused him to be here, and now he can be his own tragic hero.
All of those people he had been on the same side with forever, led, they're here to see nothing less than his head on a plate. They’re close, getting closer, all of them in his line of sight with their gaudy adornments and flash y colors, and now, even his armor can’t protect him from all of them at once.
Tony gasps, tries to run away like a coward, but there’s only solid wall against his fingertips. He stares at the floor.
Then the amorphous mass stops, and out walks unmistakable red boots. Tony doesn’t draw his gaze up, only hearing the footsteps echo louder than anything. A gloved hand appears in front of
him, wanting Tony to reach up, and against all rationality, there he is - Captain America.
Only he in the end can save him, and some things still have stayed the same.
--
After that, they don’t meet again until the trial. It passes smoothly, relatively without incidence. For one thing, there are no underhanded supervillains trying to manipulate the event to their own ends.
Tony doesn’t even attempt to defend himself. Jennifer had volunteered half-heartedly, partly out of whatever formal loyalty to the cause was left and then the fact that Tony could be tried faster, and therefore receive his punishment faster as well.
On the other side is the prosecution - Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, and Steve. His face is colored with disappointment when their eyes meet. On Tony’s face, there is nothing.
The rest of the witnesses sit apart from them, as well as the spectators, rubberneckers. It’s funny to see suc a large group of superheroes dressed up in formal civilian wear, carrying out their justice through such a mundane system, when they have so much power in their hands. All of them.
The list of charges is not so physically long, but it’s quality over quantity that matters. Perjury. Conspiracy. Sedition.
Steve’s face is especially pained on the last word.
Tony could lie right now, claw out whatever last bit of escape he could get. But instead, he understands and accepts the term of his imprisonment. For him, it’s the same as giving up.
“House arrest” is his sentence. But it is not at his own home.
In other words, he is Steve’s prisoner.
--
The two of them walk down the steps of the courthouse, shadows long against the white marble. Steve walks in front, leading Tony who has his hands behind his back, hands only restrained by a set of handcuffs that he would have managed to break just a few days ago.
“I was dreaming of the day that I was going to bring you to this courthouse,” Tony says, devoid of anything. Lifeless.
It disturbs Steve so much how there’s nothing in his voice, nothing to suggest that once Tony hadn’t thought of him as a “stupid idealist.” They once had smiled and laughed with each other, actually.
“I’d get you tried and everyone would hate me, but it would be worth it in the end.”
No matter how much willpower Steve has, it is over because it was Tony’s choice he is now too far gone.
A SHIELD-deployed car is waiting to escort them, as if they were petty villains. In the car, silence fogs the air and they don’t talk. Tony stares intently out of the window to the city, his city, and away from Steve. It’s probably the last time he’ll be able to see it.
Finally, the car stops, and Steve is at home. Their home now.
“His personal belongings will be delivered in a few days time,” the driver tersely informs him.
As the two of them walk up the stairwell, there is finally a hint of weakness.
“I don’t think I deserve this,” Tony says.
--
Steve’s apartment hasn’t changed that much since the last time Tony was here. It’s one-bedroom, neat and modest and maybe quaint. The warm and inviting feeling tries to hang on from the time they had happy memories here.
The first thing Steve does when they step in is unlock Tony’s handcuffs. The clever hands fall free uselessly to his sides and Steve watches them. They can turn common tools into his own weapons of destruction, and nothing would stop from him from turning this room into a pile of ashes.
But amid such low expectations, Tony does not attempt to struggle. He just stares down, looks away from Steve’s eyes, at his hands.
Before, Steve would have trusted them with his life.
Steve has been through a lot, so much, but he still hesitates, has to breathe in deeply. “Make yourself at home,” he says, as if he was talking to a complete stranger, and that’s most disturbing thing of all.
Tony makes him nervous in a way that bombs and telekinesis can’t, but Tony Stark is not a common enemy.
The two of them stand there with a failure to communicate, when Tony unexpectedly looks up and asks, “This just like a sleepover, isn’t it?”
Steve is just places his hand on Tony’s shoulder and says, “Yes.”
And this is the beginning of the rest of their lives.
--
It had all began when Tony walked in that day and leaned in close to Steve and smiled that smile of his. That had been nothing out of the usual.
“Steve, do you know that the future is arriving?” Tony asked, breath so close to Steve’s face.
Tony would be surer of this than anyone else, and Steve curiously, cautiously asked, “What this?” just like with all of the times Tony had shown him what the world was becoming.
“Can you imagine a world where all of us superheroes can work together? We could put together all of our strength, for a purpose. We could all put the power given to us…responsibly. Just like you would like, right?”
To the unthinking mind, it would have been so easy to think his ideas were perfect, to be entranced by his silver tongue and lofty promises. Tony was a fair seducer, and he was good at what he did.
“And this is how the world will be,” he triumphantly proclaimed, with a sweep of his hand. “And you and I can be on the top of it. Together.”
It would’ve been easy to let his friend coax him, beguile him with his familiarity, and surely victory would have been achieved easily…
Then Steve asked, “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing. But Steve, haven’t you done bad things before? This is for the greater good.”
…but Tony had not been honest.
Tony’s smile disappeared for a little bit as he looked straight into Steve’s eyes. Without saying a word, Steve knew that Tony had already figured out what he thought and Steve knew what Tony was going to do. That was the price to be paid for knowing the other.
Then it was, unhesitantly, “Oh, Steve, you’re so stubborn... Fine then. You can stay where you are. I don’t need you.”
The last sentence echoed in Steve’s ears. It shouldn’t have hurt so much.
Without dropping that smile, it was easy for Tony to wash away all of the years of accumulated friendship. Without looking back, Tony walked out the door, and that was that.
--
This is a cage and it has no bars.
There is nothing physically stopping Tony from turning the handle on that door and leaving, free to wreak havoc on the world. But of course, a cage had to be better designed than that.
Hansen and her colleagues were smart, but no match for Reed and Pym. They hadn’t hesitated to disable Extremis, bend it to their will, to drop away their former friend as if his ideas would contaminate them too. No chances, they had said, as if he couldn't be trusted. Of course he couldn’t.
But they didn't need to turn it into a shock collar or alarm system with such gaudy deterrents to make a prison. All they had to put on him was a simple GPS system, efficient and beautiful, a pithy back up security measure.
Right now, Tony could throw himself out of the window, transcended those two centimeters separating him from the rest of the living, breathing world, where things are things are happening and changing, and he'd feel the broken glass tear against his skin and the air too and he'd be free. But he can't.
Because Steve is right there and Tony feels his gaze against his back leaving their brands of his anger, his lack of trust, and worst, his disappointment. The silent pacing says more than words ever could. But there is no hate.
It would be so easy for Tony to sink to the level that Steve can't, because it would be so much easier to escape guards and walls, which are nothing to Tony who is too good for guilt. They are the reason he was Iron Man in the first place, and ironically, they are the reason he is back in them again. But the small thought of escaping fills him with so much shame.
Tony can't look back and he can't move forwards.
He only stares through the window and watches the world without him. This is the worst punishment and never before was the idea of escape nonexistent, without hope, hope which makes everything possible. That's how a bird with clipped wings feels, free to go anywhere and nowhere, and Tony's wings were pinioned too, then torn off and ripped apart, eviscerated and the wounds don't clot and Tony can't stop drowning in his own blood-
The melted wax of his wings have burned him indeed.
Below, the people pass on by, not noticing anyone up there, and so do the streetlights and buildings and all of the cars and everything other intangible thing of the city that has forgotten him as a bad memory. There is nothing outside for him, and Tony stares out at it into the edge of forever.
A/N: Loved it? Hated it? Comments about my fic are very much appreciated!