fossilised | it's a new plot!

Tony Stark hadn't been a normal person since the day he was born, there was no reason why he would be allowed to live a normal life now. He would get as far as pouring the drink, but then the glass would explode all of a sudden in his hand, shards of it and amber liquid going everywhere.

It would be hard to tell what had happened, but a knife embedded in the wall might clue him in that someone had decided his drinking habits weren't to be allowed. Despite the well-lit lab room and the lack of places to hide, it would still be hard to spot where James had secluded himself.

He was up on top of one of the cabinets, squashed between the top of it and the ceiling, hunched back into the shadows watching out of cold eyes. He looked like the Soldier again, very little human about his expression.

Tony pressed his lips together after he managed not to completely bug out by another projectile flying at him, made sure to see who it was that was attacking him now, and turned away from James to hastily grab another glass. “If you do that again...”. Well what could be threaten with? Tony set the glass down and swept the broken shards of the first into the trash can beside his workstation. His hands clutches st the edge of the table and his head bowed between his shoulders as he leaned forward on one foot.

He had nothing to say right now, for once, glad as he actually was to see James here, to know he was safe. They had to work on their communication.

Maybe part of Tony, recklessly, was hoping that James might take a shot and bury s knife inside his skull next, but that didn’t happen. The chanting didn’t stop, though, so Tony had FRIDAY turn on some metal before he headed to a couch in the corner, scattered with projects and tune ups that needed to be pushed aside.

James didn't speak for a long time, he just stayed on his perch high up in the room and watched as the music went on and Tony went to flop onto the couch, to look at his various projects ready to be finished or, at least, continued. It was another hour before he crept down from his place atop the cabinet and approached slowly, voice a murmur of Russian that might or might not be loud enough to hear over the music.

"I need you to be human."

Despite the Russian and the blankness of his expression, the words were oddly pleading and vulnerable.

"You're the only one I trust, you can't drown everything of yourself in alcohol. I need you to be strong for me. I'm sorry, I know it's selfish, but please."

“English,” Tony shouted, though he understood what James had said. He’d gotten pretty good with Russian despite his insistence on both of their first languages to be spoken here when they were together. Tony rubbed at his temple, tried to massage away the thoughts and the feelings he couldn’t rectify. The little voices that were sometimes helpful to predict what would happen and sometimes just little assholes trying to drive him mad, never eased when he did it himself. Tony tossed some things to the floor and, turning off the music, gestured for James to sit.

His lap would be filled with the engineer’s head the moment he did, if he did, and like a true brat, Tony would insist, physically placing James’s hands onto his head if need be, that the other man rub his scalp to ease the haunting little whispers. The ones who told him not to be afraid of Loki. That they belonged together. It was pretty messed up.

“I’m more human than you are right now,” Tony grumbled. “I don’t expect you to understand that genius has a price, though. But I do need for you to stop attempting to kill people. Even if you think I want you to.”

James allowed Tony to push him to the couch and then pull his hands up to stroke through his hair and massage his scalp. It was a duty paid so many times during his teenage years to help quiet these voices when they got too loud, a price indeed for genius. But it made him more human, and James had seen the glimmer of potential for how great that man could be if he didn't self destruct.

"I lose myself when I fight."

Despite the request, James stayed in Russian. His head was too messed up to try and find the words in English at the moment and, despite it being his mother tongue, it felt like a second language a lot these days.

"But if I don't fight, then what am I?"

Bending his knees, Tony put his feet up on the wall and closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he’d had the whispers quieted this way, but it worked like a charm now as it had always done then. Thoughts of Loki and Bruce left him and Tony pressed himself more thoroughly and comfortably against James. He didn’t care for a moment of it was weird or not when it brought such needed relief.

“English,” he said again, and would every time James spoke. He could be a broken record as well as anyone else. James needed to get into the swing of it. He was disassociating and the only way to stop was to find a common ground between what he was feeling and who he truly was.

Tony didn’t reply further for a few minutes, simply enjoying the way it felt for James to rub the stress and worry out of his head.

“I’ve got an idea,” he murmured after a minute. “How about you stop trying to figure out who and what you are and you just go with the first thing in your head for a little while? Stop thinking about how the Soldier or Bucky might react. Just so you. And if you want to speak Russian... Fine. My head’s clearing up anyway. You wanted to know what you are without fighting right? How about you stop fighting and see?”

James focused almost exclusively on the feel of his fingers against Tony's head, gentle pressure in concentric circles with both flesh and metal, a practised motion that he had honed over many years. It was-- oddly soothing for him too, to know that he was actually the one helping instead of hurting for once.

It was a good idea, though it took a while to sink through the scattered static of what his mind had become, and he did stick to Russian because that was what tripped off his tongue without him having to think about it.

"Then I need you to stop drinking. Find out who you are without that, and maybe there'll be enough of a person between us to make one whole one."

“You know it gets too bad if I don’t,” Tony said, eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks. He didn’t correct the language use this time because James had obviously decided that he preferred it. Tony wasn’t going to judge. It wasn’t a crutch for him, and right now it wasn’t a reminder either. It was just a choice and to James, every choice he made on his own, regardless of consequences in the long one, was a good and important thing.

Tony’s shoulders slowly relaxed into the couch, into Bucky, and his breathing slowed and evened. He could and as a child, he often had fallen asleep this way but Tony had no intention of giving into that right now.

“And that’s without the withdraws.”

But Tony knew he wasn’t really convincing James here. He had to stop drinking but then he had to find a way to still the constant churn of thought in his head.

“How do you feel about heroine?”

James wasn't going to force Tony to give up drinking, or not to take up another substance in its place; choice was such an important thing to him, that he would be a massive hypocrite if he took that choice away from someone else even if they were self destructing in doing it.

"I'd be here for the withdrawals, and I can help when it gets too loud."

The offer was tentatively made. He knew that he didn't exactly have a reputation of being reliably around, and that he was asking Tony to do something incredibly hard in stopping drinking altogether and put a hell of a lot of trust into James to be able to help in a healthier way.

"I want to. I care about you, I don't want you lose you."

At least one of the benefits of the Soldier, if there could be called any benefits to it, was that he didn't have an emotional filter. Nothing that told him to be ashamed about just spilling his sentiment everywhere.

Pepper had cared about him too but look where that got him. He’d gotten sober for her and instead, taken to constantly building new and more complex suits of armor. She left him for that, in the end, and much more quickly than she would have done with the drinking. She could be around him when he drank. He was pleasant. Frisky. Affectionate. The alcohol was actually doable in the end where the other options were not. And Tony wondered if James was just going to find that out too and go.

There were no whispers now to correct or confirm his theories. They had died away, little buzzes like the radio connected to a loudspeaker left on. Easily ignored.

Tony reached up to wrap his finger two fingers around Bucky’s metal wrist before his hand, with gravity’s help, moved those fingers downward to stop at the junction of his elbow, where they rested.

“All right. No drinking. But only if you’re here to stop it when it’s too loud. All promises are null and void if you skip out on me,” Tony said.

That seemed like a fair arrangement to him, he couldn't expect Tony to be strong and hold up his end of the agreement if James didn't hold up his end too. So he nodded, and then leaned forwards and, perfectly naturally without any self consciousness, kissed Tony on the forehead.

"I'm going to stay in the locked levels, I don't want anyone else to know that I'm here."

"Those levels are the top six floors of the Tower," FRIDAY put in helpfully, deciding that her master might need her input in order to not wreck this. "Might I suggest, Boss, setting aside a room for Sergeant Barnes--"

"--James."

"--for James' personal use, as well as a budget to decorate and acquire new clothing?"

Closed eyes opened immediately, not because Tony was uncomfortable or confused, but because the Soldier used to kiss his forehead sometimes, and then pull back stiffly as if confused for what he’d done. There was not any of that herky-jerky movement today. James had kissed him and then moved back again to continue to rub his scalp. The whole moment had come and gone in a second and Tony wasn’t sure it had happened when it ended.

He watched James for a moment, one eyebrow lifted, until he spoke again.

“Good. Me and you upstairs. Insanity downstairs.” And luckily, Banner’s room was on the ninth floor where the rest of the Avengers used to live before they all transferred to the compound upstate. That would keep everyone separated nicely. “Uh-- No budget, give him access to the guest account. No WMDs, all right? Restrict all weapons purchase-- Not that I don’t trust you, Jim…but I’m out of the weapons business and I don’t need old contacts popping up because you’re window shopping.”

There were some things about his old life that he really didn’t like, after all.

He stayed snuggled up to his old Nanny for another hour or so before he went to shower and change for dinner. He picked up the order himself, smirking at the delivery boy who was freaking out, gave him a large tip, and shut the door in his face. He had all of Bruce’s favorites, spiced the way he liked them, when he knocked on Banner’s (fortunately) opaque door. “Yo Banner. Or Hulk. Hopefully Banner. I didn’t bring enough to eat for the other guy.”

James made sure to make Tony aware that he was to be James and not Jim, he had chosen that name specifically and he had enough troubles with his own identity to accept nicknames at the moment. Maybe it went against what Tony's natural instincts were regarding naming other people random things, but he asked that this was respected.

Only after Tony had left did he let FRIDAY direct him to the suite of rooms that was to be his and begin, with her help, to work out how to customise them. Make them personal, make them his.

Bruce was still reeling from the oddness of the last few days when Tony arrived, but at least he was dressed in his own clothes again and had damp curls around his face when he answered the door.

"Hey-- wow, that smells good, I feel like I haven't eaten in months. Come in, sit down, let's talk."

“This is going to be incredibly one sided since you don’t remember anything,” Tony said, moving around Bruce with the practice of a master who was used to avoiding having to touch people. That was nothing against Banner, Tony just did it naturally. He knew the way to the kitchenette, most of the rooms on this level were laid out exactly the same and though it might seem like the Avengers ate all together in a big room, they were all loners, all of different schedules, and so they all had their own kitchens even if they could access Tony’s when he didn’t lock them out of the penthouse. “I don’t think that’s a very fair exchange.”

He set the bags down on the table and pulled out the to-go containers one by one, popping open the lids to lay out a mini buffet across the center of the table.

“Nine spoons. And plates and forks,” Tony directed, since technically this was all his space, and set the tin foil wrapped naan closer to Bruce since he knew, somehow, that the other man preferred bread to rice with his dishes. Tony was the opposite.

When they sat together, Tony was at least looking better. The little whispers were still tucked away, not even buzzing, and the alcohol’s effects had diminished. He piled his plate high with biryani and tikka masala before he tipped the serving spoon in the paneer towards Bruce. It was his favorite, after all.

“Where do you want to start? Don’t say the beginning. We’ve done that already. You fell asleep.”

"We've been through that, I had just come off a really long flight and it wasn't that I was disinterested, I was just-- sleepy. But no, maybe not the beginning, that's probably a little bit too far back."

He immediately dug in there, scooping out huge amounts of curry onto soft and fragrant naan bread, before shoving it into his mouth. He at least waited until he wouldn't be spitting food at Tony before he spoke again.

"I want to know what's happened here in the last few years. Why you say you're retired, what are the Accords, why the team is just now getting back together, and if you're planning on joining in?"

Tony didn’t look up. He was too busy keeping his food separated with walls of rice. He actually didn’t need to do that, it wasn’t one of his many flukes of character, but the telling of his actions over the last few years was difficult. It started off so well intentioned, but Ultron had too. “We saved the world after I almost destroyed it, but we killed a lot of people doing it. As usual, I didn’t take the blame. I put it on everyone’s shoulders. The world was angry. Not really America, we saved America, and I put a relief fund in place to help out whenever the Avengers went on a crusade, but Jesus, Banner. Sometimes I was pretty sure it wasn’t worth it. So when the world called for regulation, called out for someone to protect them from people like us, I jumped on board. The Accords were supposed to put oversight on the group, with a way to expand legislation to eventually call for registering everyone conducting vigilante justice. Like having people get gun permits and drivers licenses, you know? It just went too far. Rogers refused to join. His old best pal came out of the woodworks and was immediately blamed for being a terrorist… Real long story short, we stopped getting along, me and my dad’s favorite son. He changed my mind, and then something came up and… I wasn’t in a good place. He tried to protect his friend. I tried to kill his friend. And then for a few minutes I was pretty sure we were trying to kill each other. So he left with half of the gang. I came home. Pep came back for a little while-- Did I tell you she left me? No? Okay, well she left me. But then she came back. I figured that if I put a ring on it, she’d stay. Beyonce did me wrong, Banner. So wrong.”

He finally took a bite, fork loaded with cream sauce and rice. He chewed on a forkful of chicken after that, delicately, letting Banner absorb everything he said.

“Uh, what else? Well you know the part about me looking for you. But when you’re not on the planet I guess that’s less of a blow to my ego. Uh… I thought pretty hard about getting rid of the Tower and moving into HQ, but after Pepper left, I decided that wasn’t worth it anymore. Uh.. Oh, Rhodey’s crippled. Vision did it accidentally. I mean, I really Jesus’d him up, he’s walking pretty good now, but his spine is pretty much toast. Not a fun few weeks. Clint had another kid because evidently that’s what people in Iowa do. Oh, and I found out that my dad was HYDRA. I think that covers everything.”

Except for James. But James was an off limit topic.

Wow.

Okay, that was a lot to take in, and Tony told it in a surprisingly coherent way. He could see how something like legislation could easily get out of hand, and he doesn't think that it would be helpful to say that he probably would have sided with Steve and refused to sign. He would never give the Hulk's power over to someone else to control, it was far too dangerous for that.

He sat in silence for a few minutes and chewed as he processed, before deciding which bit of that to address first. Maybe the most personal, since it was obviously what would be hurting Tony the most.

"I'm sorry about your Dad," he said. Surprised, too, though he didn't say that. "I know that you looked up to him, despite the relationship that you had, and it can't have been easy finding out that he was HYDRA. Is that another reason that you've stayed away? Have people been giving you a hard time about your father's loyalties?"

“I’d like you to keep it between us, actually.” He did not worry about his reputation so much as he did about the state of his company. He employed thousands of people and while he might be able to work Stark Industries off of his own funds for awhile, people would have to go. He’d likely never be trusted again and the audits people might do on him could turn up the Soldier’s role in his growing up, and he wanted that a secret too. “I haven’t told anyone.”

And that wasn’t a lie. James told him. Banner was the first person he’d come clean to since finding out about that little gem.

“It’s all right if you don’t trust me. HYDRA stopped trusting dad along the way too. They had him killed. My mom too. The Winter Soldier did it so… Well I got pissed off at that before I understood the whys and the hows. But that’s over now. I got Rogers pulled off of the traitor list so… He’s probably back. Or will be. I uh… Things aren’t really great between us. Worse than they usually are. Were.” He set his fork down and looked up, the sadness there something he had trouble controlling. If he knew my dad was… I don’t think that I want him to ever find out. How’s the paneer and the curry?”

"I trust you."

That was the first thing that needed to be said, before anything else. Bruce wasn't exactly a shining example of emotional maturity sometimes, but he was more mature than Tony and it was odd how such an intelligent man could come across like such a child sometimes. So desperate for approval, and so transparently attached to people he claimed not to be.

Bruce always saw through him.

"I never stopped trusting you, even after Ultron, that's not why I left. And I bet it's why Steve wants you back. Because you tried to do the right thing, and I'll always trust a man who wants to try and do that. Even if the execution went wrong, the intention was good."

Now, that said, he could move onto the other points.

"I won't tell anyone about your father, but I would wager that the others would be understanding if you trusted them with it. As for the Winter Soldier, if he was a victim and you were mistaken, well... that's an easy mistake to make considering what you found out. I bet he and Steve would both forgive you."

Two people in one night said that they trusted him. To anyone else, it would be a given and something to shrug off. So, outwardly, Tony did. Inside, it settled warmly in his chest. Dinner turned into something that felt real, like more than just Indian take-out between two friends at a tiny table.

Gotta run back real quick or they’ll catch you. Christ. It had been so quiet that Tony forgot about the peanut gallery. Kiss him in the stairwell.

Well that made Tony pick up his fork again real fast and he noisily shoveled too much food into his mouth, eyes downcast. Bruce would probably think he was embarrassed. And he was. But for a very different reason. Unfortunately, silence wasn’t really a sustainable thing between them and after another shrug and some water, Tony continued. “Of course he’ll forgive me.” Steve, he meant. James was a different story, they had history. “That’s what he does. If there’s any way to respond to a situation perfectly, Rogers’ got it in hand. I don’t need him to forgive him. I’m not sorry about what I did… But I didn’t want him to have to go. I don’t really want anyone to go, but you’re all adults. You have your own choices to make.”

Tony tapped the back of his fork against his plate.

“Why did you leave anyway?”

"It's complicated."

Bruce's expression shifted into something guiltier, something sadder, and he set down his fork for now. He was still hungry, but it felt disrespectful to be talking about Natasha and the wrong that he had done to her while stuffing food into his mouth.

"Natasha and I-- I cared for her and I think she started to care for me too, it was too dangerous. I saw what I could do again in Sokovia, and I had to go. I didn't exactly mean for it to be for two years or into space, I just wanted to get my head together before we spoke again."

And they'd have to speak now that he was back. God only knew what he'd say to her, it tore him up inside to know how much he must have hurt her.

Tony didn’t have that small piece of information about how Natasha had chosen the Hulk over Banner, so he could just shake his head at Bruce, judging him just a little. “It’s always about a girl,” he said, feeling a pang of jealous that he venomously pushed away. He was not jealous. He didn’t like where the whispers were goading him into feeling right now either, and he told them internally to shut the hell up because he was having a nice night out with another adult, not some childish, taunting whispers that seemed poised to ruin his evening.

Tony wiped his mouth and shrugged.

“Told Rogers I’d meet him back at HQ tomorrow. So you have a few hours to figure out what to say to Romanoff. Can’t help you with that one, buddy. I’m stepping back from relationship advice. I’m bad at it myself.” Not that Bruce asked him. And not that Tony wouldn’t give him advice anyway. “Maybe you’ll be in luck and she aged really horribly since the last time you saw her?” That was pretty telling, wasn’t it? Tony had kept away from the team for a long time.

Bruce didn't want to hand over that small, but crucial, piece of the puzzle to anyone. Not even Tony. He did trust the other man, but Tony was a man of impetuous emotion and he would likely make an enemy of Natasha for that perceived betrayal. It still hurt him to think about, though he understood why she had done it, but he had known then that they couldn't ever be together the way they had talked about.

He swallowed hard, eyes sad, before he forced a small smile to his lips and started to eat once more. He would focus on one thing at a time, and that thing right now was Tony.

"I'm glad you said that you'd go tomorrow. You were what convinced me to join the Avengers, I don't think I could be in the team if you weren't there."

“If I don’t go, he’s coming here,” Tony grunted. He wasn’t hungry anymore, even though he’d barely eaten. What he wanted was something to drink to soothe the pulse of jealousy in his skull, but he promised not to just three hours ago. He wasn’t s great man. But he really shouldn’t go back on his word already. Not when James needed him to make up the other half of his so called humanity. He was barking up the wrong tree on that one, too. Tony was too removed for humanity to let himself be that again.

It would take a lot of convincing for him to believe otherwise.

“At least I can leave there any time I want,” Tony pointed out. “But I can’t... I don’t know if I’m coming out of retirement. I can help out, but I have some other responsibilities to work on first. And let’s face it. Stuff always ran smoother when I just came in for support. Let the kids take it from here.”

"I'm not going to force you to do something you don't want to do, your life should be your own to do what you want with, but-- I can't deny that this worries me. I know you, Tony, and the thrill of the Iron Man suit, being part of that team, it's important to you."

He set down his fork and gave Tony a knowing look.

"I don't want to see you make a recluse of yourself, with only your guilt and demons for company. Trust me, I've tried it, it's not fun. I know you've made mistakes, but we all have, isn't the Avengers partially about making up for that?"

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