imaginatus | endgame open post

[ Tony just stares at him at first, no expression on his face before his eyes narrow slightly as if he’s trying to make out if he heard him right. ]

You still love me?

[ His lips twist into a sort of humorless smile that looks hollow, especially against how gaunt his face is. ]

You left. For two years. And you’re sitting there—

[ He shakes his head, and tries to pull his hand away from Steve’s. ]

That’s funny. You pick some hilarious timing for this.

[ There's some resistance when Tony first tries to pull away, but not enough to keep Tony's hand in place. Steve knows how weak Tony's body is right now. He's not here to try to force anything.

The whole time though, Steve's expression doesn't really change. Whatever it is that Tony's feeling, Steve feels ... responsible for it in many ways. He doesn't plan on fighting. He doesn't have a right to. ]

Do you ... still love me?

[ And with that question, Steve sounds so much less sure, and he knows it's not exactly fair for him to even ask. But in a way, Steve needs to know. Even if he half expects Tony to just push him out, right then and there. ]

[ He wants to say yes. He wants to spit back at him that he doesn’t care if he still loves him, because that ship sailed when he left. He wants to tell him to go away. He wants to tell him to stay away, since he’s so fucking good at doing so and no one is left that needs him, anyway.

But, for all his anger and all his hurt that Tony still feels burning in his chest, there’s still a part of him that loves him. He can’t help it. Steve had gotten under his skin years ago, it had been why marrying him had been a no brainer. It had been why Tony had even considered the idea of adopting a child together. It had been why Tony was left so heartbroken after Steve left, because it had been supposed to be forever and like an idiot he had believed it. And, like an even bigger idiot, his heart just wouldn’t let go no matter how much he tried. And god, did he try to let go, but for what?

Apparently the answer is here, with Steve sitting there, telling him he still loves him. His question about whether or not he still loves him disarms him in a way he doesn’t expect, and even if he wants to lie, it’s like he falters altogether.

Finally: ]

Does it matter? Am I supposed to just welcome you back, like nothing happened? Like you didn’t just leave?

We were your family. Us, we were your family. And you left. [ He sounds winded, and his voice cracks a little, but he continues anyway. ]

‘Together,’ right? Isn’t that what you promised? You forgot the clause that mentioned that together was conditional, liar.

[ Steve watches the way Tony processes everything by looking at his eyes. Those big, brown, beautiful eyes that are looking at Steve like he loves and hates him more than anything else in the world right now. He watches the way Tony says nothing, but clearly has something to say, until finally, it all comes out.

Steve doesn't say anything for a long time.

Normally, he's uninhibited, saying whatever comes to mind first because he can always trust his gut to do what's right. But right now, he stops himself from answering any of Tony's questions literally. He wants to make sure what he says answers how much he's hurt Tony for these past two years, and it helps, just a little, that he had all night to imagine what this conversation might be like when Tony woke up.

In the end, the silence itself lasts less than 30 seconds, but it still feels like an eternity. When Steve talks, there's the sound of deep and terrible guilt in the back of his voice, even if he's doing a pretty good job trying to make sure it doesn't take over. ]

Tony. I'm so sorry I wasn't there.

I wasn't there when you and Peter both needed me. I should've been.

[ It doesn't matter to Steve anymore what he had been doing, because this kind of thing isn't rational. When Tony and Peter were up in space, Steve and the rest of the Avengers had been protecting Vision. Fighting Thano's army. It's important — world-endingly so. But even now, Steve has imagined hundreds of scenarios where he should've found a way, even if some of them are literally impossible. He should've split himself in two if he needed to — he should've been there for his family. ]

I'm not asking for forgiveness. No amount of it could bring Pete back. I know that. I just—

You're right Tony. I left. I broke our vows. But I can't— [ The word can't comes out scratchy, like a whisper, and Steve finds himself closing his now unoccupied hand into a fist as he pushes the emotion in his throat back down. ] I can't lose you too Tony. I can't not be there again.

[ Given the gravity with which Steve's speaking now, there's a sense that he isn't talking about their relationship. He's talking about Tony's life. ]

[ Although the room is silent for those thirty seconds before Steve speaks again, for Tony it’s as if he can hear the way his blood feels as if it’s boiling in his veins. It’s as if it’s roaring, loud and angry and it makes his heart feel like it twists in his chest once more.

When Steve apologizes, Tony looks away as he shakes his head slightly. It makes him dizzy, and it’s hard to tell if it’s the movement, or how weak he is, or just how angry he is, but he swallows back the sensation anyway.

By the time Steve finishes speaking, Tony’s mainly looking away because he can’t quite push back the angry tears that are blurring his vision. He has been heartbroken for two years now, but of course it’s not until now that the tears finally come. He hates himself that it’s now, in front of Steve. ]

You’re late. You’re about two years too late.

[ He doesn’t sound angry anymore, the conviction to sound convincing gone from his voice. If anything, he just sounds deflated. Defeated. ]

[ When he sees those tears, it feels like a stab in his chest, and Steve is surprised that tears aren't showing up in his own eyes. They're waiting, just beneath the surface, but they haven't made their way out yet.

Instead, when Tony says he's too late, Steve stares at him for two seconds, with a determined kind of sadness in his eyes and the lines on his forehead. Silently and gradually, Steve stands, but he makes no motion to leave. Instead, he takes a breath before putting a hand on the metal handles on the side of the bed — and slowly leans forward.

Part of him expects Tony to hit him before he can get too far, he's certainly going slow enough for Tony to be able to.

But if he doesn't — and in some cases, even if he does — Steve's temple will gradually make its way next to Tony's, just as his nose gently presses against Tony's ear. ]

I'm so sorry Tony. [ He whispers, as he closes his eyes. ]

[ Tony expects him to leave - not just now, but in general, and he’s convincing himself that it would be better. He’s used to his absence now. He doesn’t need him, he tells himself. It’s better if he goes.

But then he’s leaning in, and Tony’s too surprised at first to react. It’s not until Steve is close and he feels the warmth his body is emitting that he realizes how cold he is despite the heated blankets, and it feels like he’s getting lost in that familiar warmth all over again.

Still, he reminds himself, this isn’t real. Not in the way it matters. Steve could be gone later, or tomorrow, or next week, and no. He can’t do this again.

Tony doesn’t hit him, but he does try to push him away. There’s hardly any strength behind the motion, and it’s hard to tell if it’s because how weak his body is or if it’s because he actually wants this. ]

I can’t do this, Steve. I can’t do this again, I can’t handle this...whatever our relationship turned out to be twice.

[ The two of them have always had something special when it came to physical touch, and how easy it is to get lost in each other. The right touch or rake or stroke has always been enough to transport them somewhere private — a place only the two of them can go, together, and it's something Steve's desperately missed himself. In a world in which they're always ready for battle, Tony had been his only true place of comfort and escape.

Even now, after two entire years, Steve can feel the way Tony responds. It answers the question he asked earlier in another way. When Tony's hand tries to push him away, Steve's free hand moves up to cradle it against his chest. ]

I could promise you it won't happen again— [ His voice is hushed as he feels the way Tony's skin warms to his, and Steve can't help but plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. ] —but I can't ask you to believe me.

[ And as much as Steve doesn't want to pull away, the way both their bodies are reacting to this is starting to feel unfair. Steve isn't here to seduce Tony to say yes again. So, reluctantly, like this might be the last time he'll be able to feel Tony like this again, he lifts his head. It's just enough to stay close, but not so close that they're touching. ]

Do you still love me, Tony? [ He asks it again. But this time, as he searches Tony's eyes, there's more he wants to say. ] It's a lot to ask. But if you still do, let me stay. Let me come home and be the husband I should've been two years ago.

[ He can’t help it, the kiss makes him cringe. It hurts, all this just hurts and for a moment it feels like he can’t even catch his breath properly. ]

You’re right. It is a lot to ask.

[ His voice is low, quiet as he lets his head sink back into the pillow. He huffs out a breath that’s supposed to be a sort of dry chuckle but it gets stuck in his throat. ]

If I didn’t, don’t you think I would have already kicked you out? [ He hates himself more than he hates Steve for it, but it’s the truth. And right now he doesn’t have the strength to come up with a lie. ]

...but I don’t believe you. I don’t believe you’ll stay, or that this will last.

[ For the first time during their conversation, Steve's muscles stiffen a little. He isn't used to that physical reaction, and maybe he was stupid for thinking Tony would react the way he did before.

It even makes Tony's admission, that yeah, he would've kicked him out by now if he didn't love him, harder to hear. Steve sets Tony's hand back down then, retreating from contact entirely. ]

What ... do you think I'll do? Stay a couple months, then leave again?

[ If Tony didn’t already know that he still loves Steve, he’d realize it when he finds himself missing his touch. The moment his hand is down, he feels as if he’s freezing again and he can’t quite hide the shiver that runs down his spine. ]

A day, a week, a month. I don’t know. All I know is that it wouldn’t surprise me.

[ If Steve had any doubts of how much he wants Tony back, he realizes it when he sees that shiver and slowly, hesitantly, he takes hold of Tony's hand again.

When he speaks, the effects of his stiffening are gone. His voice has a little hope in it. ]

You're saying then ... that the only way you'd be surprised, is seeing me, still here, when we're both dying of old age?

[ Tony breathes out another choked chuckle, almost in disbelief. For what it's worth, though, he doesn't pull his hand back from Steve's grasp as he finally turns to him. The tears have stopped but he still feels them burning in his eyes. ]

Yeah. Why, is that what you're going to do? That's how you'll convince me?

I guess ... [ Steve's eyes wander from their hands back up to Tony's eyes. ]... you'll just have to wait and find out.

[ After a second, he lets go of his right hand's grip on the metal bar, and moves to palm Tony's cheek in his hand, to wipe the streaks of tears off his face. But when his hand is just a few inches away, Steve hesitates. Tears are finally starting to form in his own eyes and his hand closes into itself instead, shaky, before it finds its way back to the side of the bed. ]

[ He’s still not quite sold, and it shows. He can’t let himself believe that it’s true, because it’s like reopening himself up for disappointment. After losing already doing it once, and now losing Peter... it’s almost self preservation more than anything else.

But he’s still not pushing or pulling away, and he doesn’t move away when Steve’s hand is by his face. He just stays quiet, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because, in some ways, that’s the tension he’s feeling, like something’s going to shatter and all this will end.

After a moment: ]

I don’t know how long you’ve been back for, but your stuff is all still here. [ Again, he’s ashamed to admit it. Because it’s just more proof that he never moved on, that he couldn’t let go, but it’s not like he can go around hiding the proof now. Their room in the compound is still as Steve left it, for better or for worse. Tony never set foot back in there after that day where it all changed. ]

In case...you need anything.

[ Some of the emotion in his eyes turn to surprise when Tony says his stuff is all here. He'd been at the compound for long enough now that he knows it is, but he'd always assumed that it was because of Peter. Sometimes, on their calls, Pete would like to do it from Steve and Tony's old room together. But with the way Tony's talking ... Steve realizes there might have been another explanation.

After a second, Steve nods and breathes in as he tries to regain some composure. He shouldn't let his mind stray and overinterpret. ]

Would you rather that I stay somewhere else, for a while?

[ Because the other way to understand what Tony said — the more painful way — is that all his stuff is there in case he needs to take some of it. And that Tony isn't comfortable with him living here, just yet. ]

You can stay here. [ He pauses for a moment, swallowing the knot in his throat. ]

Peter wouldn’t have wanted you to go anywhere else. If you want to stay here, you can.

I don’t know how much longer I can stay here, though. Not because of you. I just don’t want to be here.

[ Peter should be here. Every corner of this place reminds him of him, and Tony’s already itching for enough scotch to drown in. Staying here won’t help. ]

It’s cowardly, probably, to run away because he’s gone. But I can’t—... I don’t want to be here without him.

[ At the end, Steve shakes his head. ]

It's not, Tony. [ It's not cowardly at all.

Then, after a brief pause, he asks: ] Where do you want to go?

[ It feels like it is. Steve saying that it isn’t makes him feel both relieved and guilty at the same time, but he can’t help it. Apparently losing his son has been enough to finally push Iron Man out of the game.

He contemplates the question for a moment before he just shrugs slightly. ]

Away from here. Away from the city.

[ He glances at the IVs and the other medical equipment in the room. It’s not a hospital and at least that helps in keeping him from getting antsy right away, but Tony has never liked this wing of the compound. Even if he knows he wouldn’t make it far, he’s already hating being in bed. ]

...how long do I have to stay in here?

[ Steve nods. He gets it. The only reason he's been able to sleep here is because he hadn't given up on the idea that both of them might be alive. Now that Peter's gone, everything's changed. ]

I don't know. But I can talk to Bruce. See what can be made portable.

[ Tony’s expecting a flat out no, a reminder that he has to take care of himself first and at least be able to sit up without being winded before he can think of leaving.

But that doesn’t come, and Tony can’t quite hide the surprise in his face. ]

Really?

[ Steve's eyes seem to soften when he sees how surprised Tony is, and in the next second, his muscles relax as Steve smiles and rolls his eyes teasingly. ]

You're my husband, Tony. I may have left, but I couldn't ever forget anything about you.

[ He knows how much Tony hates hospitals, even hospital rooms in his own damn compound. So Steve gives Tony's hand a reassuring squeeze, before setting it down carefully and taking a few steps away from the bed, and around the IV machine. He follows the line up to the drip and reads the small print indicating what's being sent into Tony's veins.

Then he follows the machine back down to the electronic monitor and checks the rate at which the liquid is flowing. ]

There's no reason this can't come with us. [ He concludes, before coming back to Tony's side. ] But I'm not sure your body can handle moving yet. You might have to give it at least a week before Bruce'll let me move you. [ A beat. ] Until then, if you really hate it here, I could take you to another room. One you've never seen before.

Edited 2019-05-14 02:18 (UTC)

[ Damn you, Tony can’t help but think. Because with this, and at least trying to help him feel better, it’s making more progress than any promises Steve could make about staying. It makes Tony visibly relax, even if Steve mentions that it could be a week before he can be moved. ]

You know, I was a lot worse than this before getting here...if that makes a difference.

[ He says it as if that’s a good reason as to why moving him now wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. His lips even quirk slightly into a small smile as he says it. ]

...thank you. For not just saying no.

[ Seeing the way Tony's body relaxes makes Steve smile, even if he's trying on purpose to not smile too much.

As for Tony looking a lot worse before, he just shakes his head. He knows. He almost lost Tony up there. There's no way in hell he's ever Tony be in a situation like that again without him. ]

You're welcome. [ He says, finally. And then, there's a helpless softness to the way Steve says: ] I love you, Tony.

[ There's only a short beat after that though because Steve's goal isn't to force Tony to respond to that. He just ... had to say it. It's the reason why he's doing any of this, after all. ] Anyway. I'll check if Bruce is up yet. See if he can give us some more information about how you're doing.

[ Although Steve has already told him he still loves him, that that’s the reason why he wants to come back and stay for good this time, the full I love you disarms him once again. It shouldn’t take him by surprise this much, but it does. Maybe the malnourishment affected his brain, he’ll wonder later.

Before Steve can leave the room, though, Tony answers before he can realize what he’s actually saying. ]

I love you, too.

[ It’s quiet, his voice almost getting lost in the room, but Steve would be able to hear it. It’s the answer Steve had been waiting for, the one he had already answered without a straight answer anyway. He’s still not ready to just start up what they used to have like nothing happened, he’ll still need time to learn how to trust Steve again, but...he does love him. Despite himself and how much he tried to forget him, he still loves him.

With a nod, Tony settles back against the pillows again before turning to look out the window. The vastness of space isn’t threatening to eat him up alive anymore, his new view is very different than what it was for 23 days, and he finds himself drifting off to sleep again not even a minute later. It’s just for a second, he tells himself. He just needs to close his eyes for a second. ]

endgame open post

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you should definitely feel free to have tony hit him

/cries

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