evenheroesbleedastonyfanfic

[evenheroesbleedastonyfanfic]

Chapter 2 “Die”

              He saw the top of his head first, swallowed by the crowd he was running with. That wavy, blonde hair that remained soft and smooth even when they were on a mission. Even when everyone else looked like shit, his hair remained the same—polished and pristine. He loved running his fingers through that hair. When the crowd finally parted he saw him. His face. His eyes.

              “Oh my God,” he cried. It’s really him!

              He’s really alive!

                “That plan is suicide and you know it—I can’t let you do this, Tony!”

              He glared at his husband—ex-husband.

              “What makes you think you can tell me what to do!”

              “I am your commanding officer—“

              “It’s the best plan we have!”

              “I’ll do it then.”

              “Are you fucking out of your mind? You can’t fly!”

              “Rhodey can take me up; I just need to gain enough height to get—“

              “Rhodey? Rhodey?! You won’t even let me fly you! Fuck you, Steve! Stop acting like you’re such a fucking hero!”

              “I’m not trying to be a hero, I’m just trying to protect you!”

              “Oh no! No! You don’t get to do that! Not after breaking me into a million pieces you fucker!”

              He watched as his husband’s face fell and turn red.

              “I told you, nothing happened,” said Steve, his voice soft and dejected.

              “Yeah, Steve, keep telling yourself that lie.”

              “It’s not a lie.”

              “YOU CHOSE HIM! You left me for him! You chose him over me! Over our family!”

              Once he started, he couldn’t stop the verbal attack.

              “Do you have any idea how much you hurt me and our kids! Peter hates you! Harley cries every night! All because you can’t let go of that bastard!”

              “I didn’t choose him! I just didn’t want you to kill him and regret it for the rest of your life!”

              “Well congratulations you piece of shit, you’ve given me something else to regret for the rest of my life!”

              Tears were streaming down his face uncontrollably.

              “Why did you even come back?”

              “You know I came back for you.”

              “I DON’T NEED YOU!”

              “I know you don’t. But I do.”

              Bull. Fucking. Shit.

              “I need you. I need you to be safe. I need—“

              “You don’t need me. You just want to stop feeling guilty!”

              The more miserable Steve looked, the angrier he got. How dare you look so fucking broken!

              “What can I do to make you to forgive me?”

              The anger was pulsing through him.

              “Die.”

                The moment he snapped back to reality he knew he had to move. He was losing him in the crowd. He flew faster, desperately looking for that familiar head.

              “Steve!” he screamed; the original reason for his flight now completely forgotten.

              Where are you?!

              But the man he was looking for was nowhere. Until he heard his voice again.

              “Please! Someone help us!”

              Like the red sea, the crowd parted—and he saw him.

              Steve. His husband. Alive.

              Only, he was a different Steve.

              “What the fuck—“ his breath hitched.

              He was tiny. Like he shrunk. Steve was shorter than him. And a whole lot skinnier.

              He has only seen him like this in pictures.

              Pre-serum Steve.

              “Sir! Sir, please help us!”

              Everything else registered to him all at once. Steve was carrying a tiny boy who was bleeding all over. The boy was thin and pale. But even so, it looked like Steve could barely carry him. A little girl was also with them. Healthy and bigger than the boy, she was clinging tightly to Steve’s shirt.

              He saw them struggling to get to the ambulances which were all already busy. The EMTs all have their hands full, tending to the hundreds of injured.

              Steve tried to get one of them to see the kid he was carrying but no one could help them.

              “Please, help!”

              He could see the desperation in Steve, which was uncommon. No matter how hopeless things were, Steve was always the one with his head screwed on the right way. The last time he saw Steve this desperate was when he was apologizing to him.

              Before he knew it he was walking towards Steve. Somehow his knees didn’t give. Somehow he found his strength.

              “I can help him,” he said but it only came out as a whisper. He failed to find his voice, still trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. He cleared his throat and spoke again. This time he managed to catch Steve’s attention.

              “I can help him.”

              “Can you? Please! Please help him!”

              He pressed a button on his suit before taking the kid from Steve’s arm. Not a minute later the Quinjet was seen landing several feet from where they were standing.

              “Follow me,” he told Steve before running towards the jet.

              He made sure Steve was right behind him every step of the way, not willing to lose him again.

              He found Nat and Rhodey already in the med bay. Rhodey took a hit after securing the president. Nat was the one who brought him in. Sam was still out, helping the SWAT team put away the first bomber.

              “Where have you been?!” The anger and worry in Rhodey’s voice were undeniable.

              “If you ever turn off your coms again I will—“

              And then there was silence, like he expected. Rhodey had seen the person behind him. He took this chance to bring the boy to a bed.

              “He needs help,” he said to one of their doctors on standby. A couple of them quickly came forward to check on the boy.

               And then it was Nat’s turn to see him.

              “Oh my god!” Her voice fought against the clang of the metal basin she dropped on the floor.

              Steve looked at all of them, his eyes pleading with despair.

              “Please, save my son,” he cried.

              And then the ringing in Tony’s ear started.

[evenheroesbleedastonyfanfic]

Chapter 1 “Remembrance Day”

             It’s time. He doesn’t want to but he knows he has to get up. He could hear the alarm clock blaring across the room. Silently he cursed to himself. There’s really no need for the alarm. He doesn’t sleep deep enough to need one but he keeps it anyway.

             It was Steve’s alarm.

             He tried, a thousand times, to get rid of the damned thing. But he couldn’t even find the courage to change the time on it so it didn’t go off at such an ungodly hour. God, why did he always get up so early, he thought. Every time he tries his heart contracts and he’s left shaking and drenched in sweat. So he just lives with it—even though it’s a painful reminder that Steve would never wake up early to watch the sunrise again.  

             Somehow he managed to get out of bed and get ready. It’s Remembrance Day, a day dedicated to the fallen heroes of the war against Thanos. It’s also the day Steve died. A day he would rather forget. A day he can never forget. A day no one would ever let him forget. Because as the world celebrates the bravery and sacrifice of Captain America, Iron man should always bear witness. The husband. The widower. The one he saved the world for and gave up his life.

              To Tony Stark, it was pure torture.

              He’d rather be lying down dead beside his husband. But Steve made sure he lived. That fucking bastard,” he muttered as he made his way to the helipad where the Quinjet is waiting to take him to Washington. There, he and the remaining Avengers are going to be honored for the 7th year in a row. Dead for 7 years and Steve still drives him insane. He’d give everything to have him back.

               The flight was only less than an hour but he could already feel his head throbbing.  He’ll definitely be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Good, he thought. Maybe then they’ll let him skip the ceremonies. As soon as the thought came to him he knew it was never going to happen. The world needed a symbol for their superficial annual grieving. Why they can’t understand that he is still living with the grief is beyond him. All he wants is to be left alone. He doesn’t need to be reminded of how selfless Steve was—he sees the proof in the mirror every day.

              He found Rhodey in the standby room, already finished with his coffee.

             “No Peter and Harley again?” Rhodey asked as soon as he saw Tony by himself. Tony shrugged. He’s used to going alone to this charade now. Peter refused and begged Tony not to force him to attend the ceremonies from the beginning. I can’t do it Dad! I can’t let him go! Meanwhile, Harley stopped coming after the 3rd year. If Peter doesn’t have to go, then I don’t want to go. He wanted to get mad at his children, but he knew how hard it was for them. Things weren’t exactly peachy between Peter and Steve when Steve died. Steve was still trying to make amends for leaving him for Bucky. Peter, who was old enough to understand what his Pops had done, couldn’t forgive him.

             “Isn’t this supposed to start at 8? Where is everybody?” he asked, changing the subject. Before Rhodey could reply the door opened and in came Nat and Sam.

             “Bruce isn’t coming,” Nat spat. “And so is Thor. It’s just the four of us today. I can’t believe those shitheads, missing something this important!”

             Tony and Rhodey exchanged curious looks. Natasha is in one of her moods—something they’ve seen getting more frequent over the years. She used to be one of the hardest people to read but ever since she lost Steve, the person she trusted the most, she had become temperamental and careless. Sam subtly signaled them not to engage with her. And they didn’t. Tony had no desire to further agitate his already massive headache. Hesilently wondered how Sam could tolerate her temper tantrums. Maybe the rumours about them being a couple now are true. Whatever. It wasn’t really not his concern. As long as Sam is there to make sure Natasha doesn’t go off the edge he could care less about their status. He just wants to get this event over with so he could go home and sleep.

             These days nothing hardly ever happens in the world. Yes, they still had the occasional nuisance. But nothing major enough to require the services of the Avengers. They’ve become nothing but figureheads. Perhaps the hullabaloo with Thanos wore out would be bad guys. He couldn’t decide if it was a bad thing. Yes, they had peace. But all he wanted was peace of mind. And since he couldn’t really get that he craved distraction—which is so hard to come by these days.

             Tony silently thanked the heavens when one of the organizers finally fetched them. The presidents were already onstage. It was show time.

               Skies were blue. There was a gentle breeze. Everything looked and felt perfect.

              Fuck me. It was all Tony could think.

              Fuck me. Fuck you. This is all your fault you selfish sonafabitch.

              They were playing a tribute video for Captain America. The background music was deep and sweeping and full of drama. It was supposed to bring tears to everyone’s eyes. He didn’t need an audiovisual cue. All he needed to do was think of his husband’s smiling face, the one he will never see again, and he is lost. Lost in an ocean. Adrift and drowning at the same time.

              His memories took him to the night he first met Steve in person.

              He grew up in the shadow of the super soldier. Steve Rogers. Captain America. All his father could talk about while he was growing up was this man who was the very definition of hero. A man who was so selfless he died to save literally the whole world. To Tony he was like the perfect older brother whose perfectly timed death cemented his place on a pedestal. An older brother he was striving to be, while secretly hating on because he could never be him. He resented him, even though he was nothing but a memory. So when he found out from Fury that Captain America had just been recovered and revived, he just had to see him. He wanted to know if his resentment was misguided. He never imagined that seeing Steve for the first time would take his breath away. He was the most beautiful human being he had ever seen.

              He was still lost in that memory when the first explosion went off.

             “Get the presidents out of here!!!” he heard Rhodey scream. It took him a couple of seconds to register what was going on around them. Another explosion was heard, followed by rapid gun shots.

             “Tony! TONY! Get your head out of your ass! We’re under attack!” Natasha was already running towards the end of the street where the explosion came from. Sam was already airborne, ahead of the swat team assigned to this event. It was pandemonium everywhere.

             He stood frozen for a second.

             Shit.

             And then his muscle memory activated.

             “Friday, get me my suit,” he spoke to his AI. Nowadays he doesn’t wear the automated suit that lets him gear up in seconds. It’s always just nearby though, in this case, in the Quinjet.

             “Already on its way, boss,” his AI replied. A minute later he felt the familiar weight of metal around his skin. It has been so long since he was dressed this way. It almost feels uncomfortable.

             “Look mom! It’s Ironman! He’s back!” he heard a kid scream while he was being dragged away by his mother to safety. The word seemed so foreign.

             “Tony? Are you suited?” he heard Rhodey through his coms.

             “Yeah. Where are you?”

             “I’m escorting the presidents. Sam and Nat are headed east.”

             “Do you have visuals on the bomber?”

             “Bombers. And they’re armed to the teeth—“

              Another explosion shakes them. This time, near the Lincoln Memorial.

              ”Fuck!” Nat’s curse rang in his ear and another memory ate at him.

              Language. The first few years of Captain America’s 2nd life was a source of fond memories. His propriety and naivety gave them all quite a few laughs. But he was also a great leader.

              “I’m on my way to the 2nd location,” he said. He flew towards the Lincoln Memorial, suddenly alert and focused.

              “Tony, please be careful,” said Rhodey.

              “Of course,” he replied. He wanted to be offended but knew his friend only meant well. He knew Rhodey thinks he’s emotionally compromised.

              Nothing could have prepared him for the devastation he found. He smelled and heard it before he saw it. Bodies everywhere. Death. Destruction. The screams of people in pain or running away were piercing. He surveyed the area, looking for the bomber, but all he saw were more bodies, dead and alive. It never used to derail him whenever they were in battle. Sure, he grieved after every fight but during the fight, all he focused on was the enemy.

              He struggled to keep alert.

              “Tony, do you have visuals on the perps?”

              “No, not yet—“

              “HELP! SOMEONE HELP US!”

              A voice steals his attention.

              No. It can’t be.

              “Please! I need help!”

              He followed the voice, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

              “Please, someone, anyone! Help us!”

              There’s ringing in his ears—but the voice was crystal clear. He knew that voice.

              He searched frantically. He didn’t care that the bomber had been forgotten suddenly. All he cared about was that voice. He cannot be mistaken.

              Steve.

              It was Steve’s voice.

              “Help!”

              “Tony, what’s going on?” he heard Rhodey. But he dared not reply, afraid that speaking would break it—whatever spell it was that was letting him hear his dead husband’s voice so clearly.

              “Tony?!”

              He turned off his coms.

              Where are you? Oh God, please let me find him—

              And he did.

[evenheroesbleedastonyfanfic]

Prologue

              “If anyone can get this to Tony—“

              I could hear him. The static was distracting, but I knew that voice. I knew it very well. I tried to reply but the radio signals were jammed in this alien warship I am trying to blow up from inside. I could hear him but he couldn’t hear me. And I was screaming.

              “Steve! Don’t you fucking dare! I’m coming! We’ll figure something out! Don’t you fucking dare do it!”

              But my voice falls on deaf ears. The warship is now hurtling towards the earth. I am hoping the atmospheric change will let my coms come through.

              “Tell him I love him and our kids—“

              How could his voice be so calm? Hot tears were flooding my eyes. I still had a warship to blow up. I know I can’t lose focus. One mistake and I will lose my only chance to save the planet.

              “Tony you need to blow this ship up now!” Strange was in an intense battle with the alien who was previously flying this thing.

              “I know!” I replied as I flew towards the mechanism keeping this thing shielded. I have never moved so fast in my life.

              “Please… be happy.”

              Wires destroyed. Shield deactivated. Bomb detonated.

              Seconds. It was mere seconds. And then I was flying.

              As fast as I could which wasn’t nearly fast enough.

              Be happy.

              His words were ringing in my ear. What the fuck is he talking about?

              I could see him now. Dear God, please let me get to him.

              Be happy.

              How dare you!

              I see him go into the water with the stones to his chest. That much power will kill him.

              “STEVE! DON’T!”

              “Dad, he can’t hear you! He took off his coms!” Peter, our eldest, was yelling. No doubt he was trying to get to his father too.

              The light hit us first.

              And then the explosion took us all down.

              “NO!!! NO!!! STEVE!!! NO!!!”      

              Dear God, no!

              Silence. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears.

              And his words.

              Please… be happy.

             Well fuck you Steve Rogers!

             With you gone, how could I?