endgame open post

[dropsofjupiter]

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stark
aequitatis
pottspepper
starklegacy for au time hopping shenanigans because of course she would. and of course i would.

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[stark]

[ Should he? No, probably not. But since when has Tony ever listened to his body, even if it feels like it has been torn apart?

Especially since his concern for Steve is overriding his own. If Steve wasn't holding his good hand, he would probably be trying to at least sit up right about now. The last thing he wants to do is let go of him, though, even if he's hating the fact that the right side of his body doesn't seem to be responding at all. And, whatever he manages to even make move in a sort of twitch, sends a new wave of pain that threatens to knock him out.

As it is, it feels like his focus gets lost for a moment, because one second he thinks he's blinking and then suddenly there's Rhodey, and FRIDAY is speaking, and they're starting to sound like they're so far away. ]

Stark, keep your eyes open. [ Nebula's voice filters through as she arrives, somehow managing to make her voice sound firm even if he can detect the concern in it as well. He got to know it pretty damn well for 23 days, after all. Like on those days, he opens his mouth to tell her it's fine, he's fine, but it doesn't quite come out. Especially as she helps to sit him up in preparation to be moved away from there. His vision blurs, the pain making it hard to even breathe as a groan gets caught in his throat, and then there's Strange. And Peter. Their voices get distorted as it feels like everything starts to spin, and he hods onto Steve as tightly as he can.

Steve. Steve. His head lolls towards him, and he tries to focus on him, on Rhodey to ask him to make sure that Steve could get checked out - don't let him die, he wants to tell him - but before he can do so, it all goes dark.

It's hard to tell how much time passes after that. Every once in a while he can hear noises, voices, sometimes he hears screaming although he doesn't quite recognize it as his own. It's mostly distorted. Foreign. He tries to place it, tries to figure it out, but usually his thoughts slip away before he can grasp any of them and then a haze seems to take over and helps him sleep again.

Until, suddenly, it all starts filtering in again. Slowly at first, until it's almost like that blinding white light takes over and he startles awake. It hurts to breathe, even thinking feels impossible, but slowly his vision begins to focus again. There's no more smoke, no more destruction surrounding him. If anything, the room is almost too pristine, the soft sound of beeping from the monitors almost echoing in his ears. ]