The Crash Effect - for capcicle

[starkingenuity]

Tony Stark does not do moderation.  Oh, he tries, he flirts with it, takes it out for a nice dinner and promises not to be a one night stand but inevitably, he leaves it for a walk of shame in the morning, condom wrapper stuck to it's left heel

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[capcicle]

At one point, before he had been living war and learned to breath through the smell of cordite, mud, and unwashed bodies in too small a space, Steve thought days running together was just something that happened when you were bored, but that was before the serum and Nazis, a rescue mission and a last, desperate act that took out the Red Skull and locked him under the ice for seventy years. Things had been a whole lot simpler when he'd just been little Stevie Rogers who had big ideas and a backbone to match but not the size and strength to defend them or himself -- He remembers each and every bruise and broken bone, the feeling of frustration that he was just not good enough. And he still never gave up. That's probably why Erskine liked him so much

[capcicle]

As the appointed head of the Avengers - He doesn't think he deserves the spot because he's still out of his depth with the 21st century in some regards - Steve made it his duty ensure that the people under his command were healthy, happy, and as whole and taken care of as they could be. Most of them were living in small apartments at one of the ground facilities S.H.I.E.L.D owned so it was pretty easy to check up on Clint (always at the range when not undergoing mandated reevaluation or away on an OP), Natasha (she let Steve find her on occasion but largely she was absent, most likely on a mission), and Bruce (who SHIELD kept under heavy surveillance and, like Steve, couldn't really leave without an escort). He didn't really need to worry about them so much because they were close at hand and didn't seem to shy away from his well meaning inquires. And then there was the last member: Iron Man. Stark. Tony. The only one that had a place outside of SHIELD and the only one that bristled when Steve checked up on him. Tony was a grown man

[starkingenuity]

There's simply no recognition in Tony's eyes when he lifts dead, dirt brown eyes up at Steve. His brows do furrow, however, because he knows he ought to be alone right now and not faced with a Ken doll with perfect hair and simple but stylish, classic, ageless charm. Steve is out of place in this dwelling place of the mind, where wires are dukes and Tony their king.

No. Their God. They worship him and bend to his whim when he's merciful and curse his name when rising up in revolt but he loves them just them all just the same. His children. The product of his mind. He shapes them in pleasing images or tortures them as they do him. Right now, he's apathetic towards them. They lay in abandoned ruin, waiting for their maestro. He's not going to give in. Not today.

Not when there is an intruder.

Tony sucks in a breath. He looks like he might attempt to stand, but he doesn't. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing spills out for several syllables. It's painful to watch. It's worse to hear. "Jarvis, intruder alert

[capcicle]

Tony's in bad shape; gaunt features and bags so deep Steve figured they could hold the entirety of his wardrobe and still have room for the shoes. His clothes were creased, rumbled beyond repair and grease stained. He thinks they might be a little singed too but he's not looking to closely at the clothes in favor of mapping Tony's features and body, looking for any sign of hurt.

"Tony," He tried again and moved a few steps closer, crouching just a handbreadth from his teammate. He would have sat further back but he wanted to be close enough...just in case. He's not sure what he thinks would happen but he wants to be prepared for it nonetheless. "JARVIS told me that you needed some help but he was real short on details when I asked."