fossilised | Jotunheimr

Jotunheimr

Thor Odinson was not ready to be King.

That much had become suddenly and sharply clear to Odin All-Father, a sharp pain that he would rather not have had. He had been blinded too long by love for his only heir, seeing only his affable way of gaining friends and his strength on the battlefield, but ignoring how he had become spoiled and arrogant. He had glossed over the reports from Thor's tutors that his son had not studied the other realms or the duties of a King as he should, and had instead spent much of his youth carousing with his favoured companions, hunting or getting into trouble together.

But this... this was beyond a childish scrape.

Egged on by his friends, or so it had come out since the act, Thor had decided to go to Jotunheim - a forbidden act - for the sole purpose of finding one of its inhabitants and slaying it. A proof of his mettle as a warrior, to kill one of the fearsome giants, the monsters of the icy realm. He felt ashamed, sick at heart that his only son could be so ignorant as to think that any race were just monsters. He might have hoped these were just rantings, but he saw preparations begin to take place and he knew that they meant to commit treason by disobeying his orders of no contact with Jotunheim and perhaps start another war.

Arrangements were hastily made, pushed through Frigga who had more goodwill remaining to her among the Giants, and when Thor arrived at the Bifrost, he would find Odin standing by the great sword rather than Heimdall, his one eye forbidding.

"Why are you so eager to seek out war, my son?"

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"You're a weird guy."

That was actually more compliment than insult. It was refreshing to meet someone who didn't seem to want what everyone else wanted, and it was actually kind of comforting that Stark only seemed to see him as the challenge of his arm. It was a midway point between being seen as human, and still being seen as an object, and that was sadly more comfortable now than being fully one or the other.

"I'm surprised you're still alive, if this is how you deal with people breaking in."

“You would be surprised, lately, how many people break in,” Tony replied with a shrug as if it didn’t matter. “But you’re right. JARVIS, move intruder death ray to the top of my priority list.”

“As previously stated, Sir, you’re not capable of keeping any semblance of s priority list,” JARVIS shot back and Tony rolled his eyes.

“Not even my own kids respect me,” he said to Bucky, snapping his fingers at the man to get him to sit back down. “We have twenty minutes at least. Let me finish up the hardware removal and— It’s going to disable motor function in your arm below the elbow so don’t freak out on me.”

He really hoped that he wouldn't freak out, but he hadn't been in a lot of situations like this yet and he wasn't sure just what might set him off. Stark had been good to him so far, helping him without asking for payment and not treating him in a cruel or dismissive manner, he didn't want to repay that by harming him.

"It might be better to restrain me while you work."

Assuming that Stark had anything that would restrain him effectively.

"I don't want to hurt you."

“I don’t think I have the stuff I’d need to make sure you stay down unless I put you out and even then— Yanno, people have tried and failed with Cap. Metabolism issues. You guys burn hot.” Hes still running off of the assumption that James is a knock off super Soldier here. He’s seen nothing to tell him otherwise.

Tony sits back, frowning.

“You’re going to have to try not to murder me while I do this. It’ll be less likely to happen when I shut this off, though. I just want to tell you ahead of time what to expect. It won’t be painful, just very heavy. I’m removing the pressure pistons.”

Tony should really be careful about making genius leaps that nobody else would make, because they'd all assume that the serum had existed only for Captain America and then never been successfully replicated again. It made him suspicious to the non-geniuses in the room... namely James, who looked at his benefactor with slightly narrowed eyes.

"How do you know about my metabolism? That's classified."

Only HYDRA agents knew that.

Had he made a mistake? Was Stark actually a HYDRA agent?

“Educated guess work,” Tony said, dragging over a screen shot from the tablet on the ground to the virtual screen between himself and Bucky. His fingers move behind the image, highlighting various aspects and figures running over a stand in body for Bucky himself. “Healing factor. Same as Cap’s. You literally wouldn’t be able to use this thing without it. Also, it’s making it a bitch to fix. And your vitals. Here, see?”

He pulls up Steve’s as well, just to show Bucky.

“I have to scan you. No way around it. And J is running DNA samples concurrently as I work. Why are you being so paranoid?” The Russian to Brooklyn accent had been bothering him but now…now he was well and truly starting to get unnerved as his genius caught up with him. The smirk fell from Tony’s face. “SHIELD only ever made one. You’re obviously some sort of Russian copy.” Crap. Could he be some sort of clone? “No offence.”

Poor Tony, it might be safer for him if he wasn't such a genius. He needed time for his thoughts to process before saying them out loud, or else his lightning deductions might get him into trouble... like now.

"You should be careful where you say things like that," James warned in a low voice, all the more threatening for being so calm and emotionless.

He didn't want to hurt Stark, the man had helped him when he didn't have to, but he knew a suspicious amount for just guesswork and the more he knew, the more of a liability he was to just leave without being silenced.

“If I was going to tell Rogers about you, he’d already be here,” Tony said, either oblivious to the death stare he was getting or simply not caring. Probably the latter, though he might well be immune to death stares now. It came with the territory. “And I wouldn’t be hypothesizing to you.”

Of course, that was right about when the arm went dead on James. Tony had severed the receptors and was already pulling out one of the mini circuit boards. This technology looked fairly recent, the upgrades newer, at least within the last two years.

“It helps to know what I’m working with but I don’t have to. And you know that. It’s why you came to me for blind repairs. Stop half-threatening me.”

James went incredibly still when his arm went dead, almost as though he were no longer breathing. It sent his mind into a flat spin of fight or flight survival response, even though he had been warned to expect it, and it took a hell of a lot of self control not to just lunge for Stark on the spot.

Which was probably why he switched back to Russian, his most comfortable language now even if he didn't want to admit it, once again sounding like a native of the country.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. You don't know how deep this goes."

“Uh huh,” Tony said, just a sort of sigh. He wasn’t entirely paying attention to Bucky (and this was usually how he got himself hurt, by being unaware of an oncoming explosion), much too focused on fixing a module component in the arm. It made Bucky’s pinky finger lift and fall, which Tony must have taken as a good sign because he sat back to wipe his hands again.

He really didn’t like the amount of red there was. Did they have to tint the lubricating oil that color? Seriously?

“If I don’t understand something, it’s because I haven’t had a damned minute to look at it. Stop being so threatening. I’m helping you. That’s what I do. I help people.”

Five years and counting. And usually it’s pretty fun.

That wasn't what he had been talking about. Stark no doubt understood the workings of his arm much better than James ever would; though the lubrication did need to be red, because it also served as a link to the blood supply from his actual body, circulating real blood through and out.

"Back. Step back."

It was a sudden and snapped order, and Stark would have about five seconds to obey before James lost what self control he did have. Hopefully Stark listened and got out of the way, and didn't end up being kicked in the face...

Weirdly enough, Tony isn’t even remotely keen about being kicked in the face. He puts up his hands and a smirk, thankfully unaware that there’s blood in the lubricant. That would be horrible. He wouldn’t sleep for days. So.. status quo honestly around here.

“What’s you’re problem now?” He was not going to speak Russian to this guy. Let Bucky be angry about his origins all he wanted, but Tony wasn’t going to give in this time. They were done playing the Soviet Dating Game. “Do you want me to fix you or not? Because good luck with that arm. One, it looks gross. Two, i hope you’re right handed.”

It wasn't a conscious choice for him to be trying to attack Stark, it was just a result of the mess that was his head. Too many instincts and too long being a weapon, with specific instructions, combined with the fear that came after traumatic experiences and-- well, he wasn't the sanest guy around.

He stumbled to his feet, left arm hanging awkwardly now that it was deactivated, and levelled cold hard eyes at Stark that no longer seemed to recognise him.

"I won't let you take me back." This was HYDRA, right? Or the Nazis? Or-- God, he was so confused, so scared.

“Take you back where? Genuinely curious. You came to me.” You know. Just as a reminder. Tony dropped his hands, fingertips smearing blood across his palms. He was trying not to get worked up. JARVIS tended to be protective of him if he was in danger and no one needed Steve riding in to save the day.

Tony glances around the workshop and shrugged at Bucky.

“I don’t know what Little melt down you’re having, but try to think through it. You came to me. You left. You came back. I’m passive in this. But I can promise you at least one thing. Whatever you’re afraid of, you don’t have to be here. Okay, yes, you found a way to break in. But that doesn’t mean that other people are going to. You’re safe here. Unless you lay a hand on me. And then all bets are off.”

"I don't--"

Understand. Remember. Anything.

This had been a mistake, James wasn't ready for this sort of intense experience and, even if Stark might not think that some repair work on his arm wasn't that intense, it was for someone who could remember being strapped down and having the thing attached to him in the first place.

A knife appeared in his hand as if from nowhere, but he didn't make a move to go for Stark just yet, watching him warily as if the smaller man was the predator and he was the prey.

A light flashed on one of the dashboards, JARVIS covertly asking if an SOS signal should be sent out to law enforcement and Steve.

Tony was pretty sure that the moment Steve got involved, that would be that. This guy would be gone forever. Tony looked up and then down again to signal that JARVIS needed to stand down.

“Why would you threaten me with a weapon when I haven’t threatened you?”

He just wanted this guy to be able to think for himself. Obviously that was the problem here. He kept cycling through personalities. The charming, asshole guy from Brooklyn and now this Russian fake copy of Steve.

He didn’t like it.

“Think about it and get back to me.”

That was kind of the problem at the moment, thinking about it. James' head was such a confusing mess of who he used to be, who he was programmed to be, and who he was figuring out to be that thinking was often a task that was out of his hands. He still relied too much on instinct, and he had made some dumb choices from that.

"I don't know," he muttered, voice blank. "I don't know."

This probably wasn't an ideal situation for poor Tony, who wasn't the most emotionally stable person himself and therefore wasn't prepared to deal with a traumatised ex-POW.

"You're one of them, aren't you? Like her."

“Not sure who ‘her’ is but I do know who I am. And you did too. Which is why you’re here. You can probably kill me without the knife and a lame arm so how about you drop the weapon and we can talk?” Would a HYDRA agent talk? Certainly not. They’re not the talking sort. They would be trying to capture Bucky again. And if he really thinks hard on it he can come up with his own answers here.

Tony is safe. He’s stupid for a genius, no one would ever doubt that, but he really is safe.

And he might actually understand a little about what Bucky’s deal is. He had been kidnapped by terrorists and made to build weapons for four months with a car battery plugged into his heart.

They all have their demons.

He wasn't entirely sure why he said her either, except that Stark reminded him in a very shadowy way of someone he had known a long time ago. Probably a memory thread better not followed to its natural conclusion.

There was a long silence before he finally slipped the knife back into its hiding place, although he didn't look any less tense than before.

"Maybe this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come, I'll hurt you."

Tony just rolled his eyes. Anyone else in this situation would be terrified and looking for a way to get Bucky out or to have someone come to help, but this was nothing compared to the danger he put himself in whenever he tried to shave off his landing time as Iron Man. It was getting a little hard on his knees and the plating he used to reinforce the landing dock upstairs.

“I hurt myself constantly. And I have a girlfriend.” Not that it made him a masochist but yeah. It kind of did. “You’re not worse than my usual safety retrofitting schedule.”

Which he’d been putting off for three years. Whoops. He’d just been busy!

“Sit back down. I’ll put on music and no more prying into your business. Okay?”

While the prying obviously wasn't something that he enjoyed, it was the working on his arm that had James the most on edge. He just couldn't separate Stark and the many years of HYDRA technicians, and so he expected it to hurt a hell of a lot, and even when it didn't, it just brought back bad memories.

He took a half step back and away from Stark, brow furrowed as his memory grasped after the 'her' that this man reminded him of. He shouldn't, he knew instinctively that it wouldn't end up in a good place, but-- he couldn't stop, it just happened automatically.

"Maria..."

The name escaped his lips all of a sudden, a hushed murmur.

Tony froze. Bucky knowing his father was one thing. That made sense. Howard palled around with Captain America and Friends during the war. But that was before his mother came along. Tony felt his stomach tie up in knots.

“Most people say I’m more like my dad,” Tony said, bitingly. ‘Maria’ was actually a very common name but that didn’t mean that Bucky wasn’t talking about the one that brought him into this world. And he had a really strong sense of that. There were too many questions left unanswered here. “Did you know her?”

And if Bucky did, and was telling the truth, what did that actually mean?

"Yeah."

Suddenly he really hoped that Tony took more after his father, as he said he did. Howard Stark might have been a cad and emotionally neglectful, but he had wanted to do the right thing for the world in starting SHIELD with Peggy Carter. Maria Stark, outwardly the kinder and gentler one, had been the one to help germinate the seed of HYDRA inside what Howard had created.

He frowned, mouth suddenly dry.

"It's best if you don't ask."

“You know what people do the moment you tell them not to ask something? They ask it,” Tony said, his jaw working hard to pop the line out from chin to ear on each side. His teeth actually ached before he forced himself to release the hold. “How did you know her?” he asked again, exhaling through his nose.

This was going to ruin Tony’s day. He could practically feel it. His mother had not been anything like his father. She was still somewhat neglectful, but she loved him and it was obvious. She hugged him. Later in his life, she tried to help him too, to steer him in the right direction.

He’d taken her death so, so hard, and maybe that explained why he was willing to listen to anything Bucky might have to say.

At least focusing on this tiny detail and Stark's reactions were helping to keep him grounded and less like he might lash out at any moment, it's why he had been capable of switching back to English, though it was almost an accentless voice rather than the Brooklyn twang.

"I said no," he repeated, and he would have headed for the door to escape the conversation if it hadn't been for the fact that his left arm was still wholly inactive and hanging limp at his side. "She's dead, what I know about her, or how we knew each other, it's not important any more."

He had caused so much suffering in his life, he'd rather not cause more if he could help it. And this truth would definitely cause suffering, he could tell.

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bugger I thought I pressed post comment on this >:

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let's ruin the one person Tony loved mwahaha

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