imaginatus | endgame open post

[ The Time Stone. Steve had... What? He grips his hand a little tighter still, as much as he can. ]

Are you okay?

[ There might be some irony in the fact that he literally just woke up from being so close to death and he's asking if someone else is okay, but it doesn't matter. He's concerned about Steve, and it shows in the way his brow furrows as he looks at him.

When Steve asks him how he's feeling, he does his best to give him a reassuring kind of smile even if it looks a bit like a grimace. ]

I'm alive. That's enough, I think.

...you shouldn't have risked yourself like that, Steve.

I think I'm eating my own weight in food every day. [He laughs, and it's a little self-deprecating. Steve's not the ninety-pound runt he was, but it's also obvious that he's lost a lot of his bulk.] But, really, that's only about twice what I normally eat, when you think about it.

[Hey, the guy has an appetite. Blame the serum.]

Who, me? [Steve shrugs, trying to look casual.] I'm a relic. I think everything that's happened proves that the world needs you a lot more than it needs me. Besides, Banner isn't the only irradiated one around here, you know. [And, yes, the gauntlet nearly killed Bruce, but Steve had been more than willing to take the gamble that only one stone wouldn't exact the same toll.]

[ Now it’s Tony’s turn to huff out a small chuckle under his breath when Steve says he’s needed more than him, and shakes his head slightly. For all his ego, Tony has never believed that the world actually needs him. Especially not over Steve Rogers. His track record isn’t exactly stellar, and Tony is damn well aware of that. ]

Heh, I don’t know about that. But, I’m glad you’re okay. Thank you, for bringing me back.

[ He still doesn’t think Steve should have endangered himself like that, but at least Steve is alive. They’re both alive. They...

Shit, they had won? The realization almost knocks the air right out of him. ]

...it’s over, yeah? Thanos is gone? Did— Is everyone else okay?

[He runs a thumb over Tony's knuckles - his good hand, not the one that's in a sling, and smiles sheepishly.] I need someone to stand by my side, Tony. I can't do this alone. [It's a concession he's willing to make now, five years later - five years too late, maybe. It's not like they have a shortage of Avengers these days, but Tony- well, he's fucked up with Tony a lot, but at the end of the day, he's still the one he looks to for...well, pretty much everything. More than he's saying, that's for sure.]

Yeah. Everything's as fine as it can be, considering. [Considering how many people had come back to discover that five years had disappeared in the blink of an eye, that society had nearly crumbled. Considering that Natasha's still dead, that the compound's in ruins, that his shield's still in pieces. 'Fine' might not be the best word to use, but like hell Steve knows what is.] We're all okay.

[ It shouldn't be fair, the way that Steve's words and the way that his thumb brushes against his knuckles make him feel like his heart does a little summersault, but the sensation is very much there. There's no way to ignore it, even if he tries.

He nods slightly when Steve says that everyone's okay. For a moment he had been terrified to think that they had lost someone else, that it hadn't worked, but...it's over. It's still a somewhat hollow victory, considering their team isn't intact and Natasha had died in the process. But, people are back. Thanos is gone. That's the best it can get, and it feels like a weight has been relieved off his chest and allows him to breathe a little easier. ]

So...what now? [ He smiles faintly. ] Is it too soon to ask when I can go home?

[There's a softness in Steve's gaze when he looks at Tony, a vulnerability that he's tried hard to hide all these years exposed like a raw nerve. A chink in his metaphorical armor. He feels like he's wearing his emotions on his sleeve, and it scares the hell out of him, especially when he knows just how fragile Tony is, and how much of his own well-being rests on him.]

Tony, do you honestly think you can even walk right now? [The question is dry, and the look he gives Tony says that he shouldn't even think about trying because Steve will sit on him to keep him in bed if he has to. Somehow, Steve's not surprised that Tony's a terrible patient.]

I don't think they'll let me go home, and you're worse off than I am. [Probably. He's not completely sure about that; they might be equally bad in different ways. Steve definitely isn't mentioning how easily fatigued he is right now; he can't walk for long. It's a lot like the old days, and, same as he used to, he keeps pushing himself more than he ought to.]

[ That softness in Steve’s eyes is impossible to look away from, and for a moment Tony doesn’t know what to do with it. Part of him feels like he’s just imagining it, that maybe he’s just dreaming this whole thing. Not that he wants it to be, it just feels dangerous to accept that it could be real.

So, he focuses on their banter instead. The look earns him a small eye roll that he doesn’t mean, and it shows by the faint smile on his face before he shakes his head slightly. ]

I think the most I can do is sit right now, and even then, I’d guess the bed would have to do most of the work. [ He shifts his head slightly to try to see his arm, see how bad it is since that’s where the pain is radiating from. Just turning to his left side feels like it aggravates it, but it doesn’t last long since he can’t see much, anyway. His arm is covered in some sort of gauze and in a sling to hold it in place.

Turning back to Steve, he watches him for a moment before speaking again. ]

Should you even be out of bed?

[Probably he shouldn't be mooning over Tony like a teenage girl, but Steve doesn't quite realize what he's doing, just like he doesn't really pay attention to the fact that he's still holding Tony's hand. He's too relieved that the other man is awake again, that for the first time, there's proof that Tony can recover.]

Well, I do keep getting a crick in my neck when I fall asleep in my chair. [He gestures to the chair he's sitting in with his free hand, trying to downplay his condition.] But I can walk. [Which clearly means he's better off than Tony, so he wins, right?] Just gotta have my nutritional intake monitored, mostly. And they're talking about physical therapy to restore muscle tone, but that's no big deal.

[It's not a big deal, he's fine.]

[ Tony’s very much aware of the fact that his hand is still in Steve’s, but at the same time, he very much doesn’t care. He could pull back, sure. Maybe he should. But it’s comforting, and the idea of letting go doesn’t quite sound so appealing.

Besides, for a moment he even forgets as Steve speaks about his condition. Tony’s brow furrows as he listens and sure, he’s walking so that does give him a one-up over him right now, but still. ]

I’m sorry, I wish you didn’t... [ He trails off for a moment, because he doesn’t quite know how to say it. He’s thankful, of course, that Steve used the stone on him. That he’s able to be here and they can be speaking. But he can’t be glad about it, considering the toll it took on Steve’s body. Steve may claim he’s fine, but Tony’s concern doesn’t disappear because he doesn’t quite believe him. ]

...thank you. [ He gives his hand a small squeeze, since his own strength hasn’t returned yet. ] You didn’t have to do this.

[Steve just huffs when Tony apologizes. He would have sacrificed so much more to bring him back that being sapped of his strength seems like a minor consequence. At one time, it would have meant everything to him - but Tony's life means more. Besides, he'll recover with time. They both will, he's sure of that.]

Stop trying to be humble, Tony. It doesn't suit you.

[He's teasing, and he softens the words with a smile. Mostly, Steve's bad at accepting gratitude. He doesn't need to be thanked for anything he does - he just does it, usually without considering the consequences beforehand, because it's the right thing to do.]

And like I said, it's more important to have a guy who can look forward than someone who's stuck in the past. [The shrug Steve gives is a little self-deprecating, but he means it: Tony is more important to the world than he is. They need minds like his, because there's a whole universe out there - a whole lot of universes - and Tony's the only one who can handle that particular brand of thinking. They'd already proven that.]

Edited (broke the html) 2019-05-21 02:46 (UTC)

[ The tease earns Steve an eye roll, but with the smile that goes along with it it's easy to tell that it's not malicious at all. Either way, even if Steve doesn't want want to accept his gratitude, though, it's very much there, reflecting in his eyes.

At what he says, though, he can't help but scoff. ]

Oh please, that's a load of crap. The world has already lost you once, Cap. Twice, if you count what happened after the Accords. I don't think we can afford to do it again.

[ He says it as he looks at him, as if to ensure Steve can see that he's not lying. This isn't just lip service. He means what he's saying. ]

And, well...if you would have found a way to keep me here, while you weren't, I would have bitched about it until I somehow found a way to bring you back. Obviously no one wants that, so...since you are still here, you just have to make sure you stay alive. [ He gives his hand a small squeeze before he can refute that. ] It's important to me that you do.

[There are only so many ways to interpret that, and most of them don't typically involve holding someone's hand and refusing to let go. Yeah, there are other people Steve would die for, but he doesn't have that sort of physical intimacy with them. (Of course, up till today, he would have assumed the same of Tony.) Steve stares long and hard as the meaning behind Tony's words percolates through his brain like coffee in a drip filter. Truth is, he's not very good at reading emotions sometimes, especially not romantic ones - and he's almost as bad at expressing them.

So when Steve brings Tony's hand up to his lips and brushes a kiss - soft and timid - against the back of it, the question is clear in his eyes, in the way he hunches into his shoulders a little, like he's expecting rejection. His stomach lurches like he's back on the Cyclone, and he sets their joined hands back down on the bed, licking his lips.]

Lucky for you, it looks like I'm pretty hard to get rid of.

endgame open post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject