Whumptober2019 - Tumblr Posts

Whumptober day 14 - Tear-stained

My fourteenth fill for @whumptober2019​. It’s another WinterIron AU, this time one where they are younger. Be careful though, there’s some mentions of Howard being an abusive parent. It’s also available on Ao3 if you prefer that.

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The first thing he noticed was that Tony had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks were still wet. Not to mention that his lips were all nearly bitten through, which was one of Tony's unfortunate tendencies when he was feeling bad.

The second thing, and that really pissed Bucky off, was the bruise that was starting to grow on Tony's cheek.

Part of him wanted to snarl, wanted to insist Tony tell him what had happened and who had done this so he could destroy them. But he knew that wasn't what Tony needed right now, and it wasn't like he couldn't guess who'd hit him.

"C'mon in," he told his boyfriend as calmly as he could, stepping back. He knew Tony had probably noticed his barely contained rage, but there was only so much he could do.

"Thanks," Tony mumbled, head held down as he entered Bucky's apartment.

Wordlessly, Bucky headed to the freezer and grabbed one of the cold packs he sometimes used after boxing. He hoped it'd help with the physical pain at least.

Then he grabbed one of his softest blankets and sat down next to his boyfriend, wrapping the both of them up.

With a soft whine that always made Bucky want to take on the world if it meant no one else would ever be able to hurt him, Tony curled trustingly into him.

For a few minutes, the two of them just breathed together.

Bucky could feel the exact moment Tony's tears started up again, his chest slowly getting wet as Tony's breathing became quicker, interspersed with the occasional hiccup. "I just don't get it," he whimpered, sounding absolutely desolate. "He wants me to build weapons, and they have to be great. But then I do and he hates it. And I just..."

"It's not fair," Bucky agreed, stroking Tony's hair the way he knew would soothe him. "He's not fair."

Of course, he could guess exactly what Howard's problem was. He demanded that Tony be good enough, and smart enough, and worthy enough to be his son and heir. But on the other hand, Tony was all of that and far more, and the man couldn't stand knowing how much better than him Tony was.

And in the end, Tony was the one suffering for it.

As much as he wished there was something he could do, Bucky knew there wasn’t a thing he could do. Not against Howard Stark, of all people. Nothing legal, at least. So instead all he could do was sit on his couch, holding his boyfriend as he cried and hoping it would help him feel at least a little bit better.

Finally, Tony’s breathing started to ease up again. His breaths still hitched every once in a while, but he had relaxed some. “Thank you,” he sighed, hoarse.

“Anytime, doll,” Bucky reassured him. “Wish it wasn’t necessary, but I’ll always be there for you if you need me.”

When Tony raised his head to smile at him, Bucky noticed that the bruise had become even clearer. The cold pack did seem to have helped with the swelling, though. And despite the puffy eyes and the red nose and the bruise on his cheek, he was still the most gorgeous person Bucky had ever seen.

“I love you,” Tony admitted quietly, eyes soft as he looked up at Bucky and a faint smile on his face.

“And I love you, doll.” As gently as possible, Bucky stroked a hand over Tony’s injured cheek, pressing his lips against the bruise tenderly. “So very much. I wish I could take you away from all of this, keep you safe…”

“You do,” Tony insisted. “I’m so much safer with you.”

“Except when you have to go back.” Most of the time, Tony’s parents didn’t care where he was, so Tony spent most of his time at Bucky’s apartment. It kept him out of the way of most of the incidental violence, and the moments where Howard was drunk and looking for someone to help get rid of his frustration.

It was moments like tonight, where Howard demanded Tony’s presence and proof of an invention, that he simply couldn’t do a thing against.

After all of the stories Tony had told him of people trying to arrange for intervention of some kind, after which they disappeared from his life and nothing ever happened, Bucky knew better than to try. At least this way, he could be there for all of the other moments.

He didn’t like wishing that someone would die, but when it came to Howard? He couldn’t even feel guilty.

In his arms, Tony yawned.

“How about we go to bed?” he suggested.

“Yeah, that… that sounds lovely,” Tony agreed. Now that he was cried out and the emotions had faded a little, the exhaustion hit twice as hard. It was something Bucky was familiar with as well. He just hoped Tony would be able to sleep without his bruise bothering him too much, let alone nightmares.

Considering the exhaustion, they both made quick work of preparing for bed. The only thing Bucky did take time for was to gently rub a bruise cream on Tony’s cheek - the good it would do, both for the pain and for the healing, was worth the extra time investment.

Then they were in bed together, Tony curled up tightly in Bucky’s arms like he preferred. And like Bucky preferred, too, if he had to be honest. This way, he felt like he could keep Tony safe from everything that would try to hurt him, keep him sheltered and protected.

Tension he hadn’t even been aware of disappeared as he felt the way Tony snuggled into his arms, warm and trusting. He honestly wouldn’t mind staying like this forever.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered into Tony’s hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“And I love you, so much,” Tony muttered into his chest. “So much.” Bucky could feel the way Tony pressed a kiss of his own over his heart, and warmth filled him.

Forever.

Whumptober day 15 - Scars

My fifteenth fill for @whumptober2019​, involving the Avengers acting as a (dysfunctional) family and having a game night like no other. Also available on Ao3.

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It happened because of Bucky, to be honest. Bucky, his laundry list of issues, and his insecurities about his arm and (possibly even more so) the scarring around his shoulder.

His knock-off serum had taken care of all of his other scars, but this one was so bad, as well as constantly agitated by the metal arm, that it simply didn't heal. And it had become more than obvious that it was a source of discomfort for him, in a team that seemed relatively flawless.

Of course, Steve's serum meant that he had no scars to show. Natasha's knock-off of a knock-off meant that only the bad ones remained, which was why she had about three scars overall, and by now they all knew about them. Thor, as an Asgardian with a golden apple in him to keep him fit and flawless, had no true scars either. Bruce had lost all of his scars when he got the Hulk and, since he pretty much transformed the moment he got injured (or right before), gained no new ones either.

That still left three human members on the team, though. And together, they'd come up with a 'game' of sorts.

JARVIS had scanned all of their bodies for scars. They were allowed to take ones out of the equation that they didn't want to discuss, and Tony's Arc Reactor and its scarring were obvious and well-known enough that it was immediately disqualified. But other than that, there was a complete registry of their scars.

All of the others then got to see the registry and images of the particular scars, upon which they placed their bets. They guessed whether it was an accidental or violent cause for one point. Then there was a more specific cause that, if they got it right, counted for two points. Finally, they could guess a more complete backstory for it that could earn them three points if they got it correct, though everyone estimated that would be fairly rare, considering all of their lives.

Because he had the least scars, they'd started with Sam. Out of them all, he'd lived the most regular life so far, meaning it wasn't the most interesting round. Natasha, who was extremely good at guessing logical causes of injuries, beat all of them. It wasn't the most exciting round, but it was a good way of getting into the game, and it was obvious to see that Bucky was starting to relax a bit.

Then there was Clint, who had some interesting scars. Hilariously enough, Tony actually got the most points during this round because he'd guessed the most ridiculous backstories. And because this was Clint, they often turned out to be correct, to the amused horror of the others.

Finally, it was Tony's turn, and the others quickly found out that his scars were a bit of a minefield. The one that looked distinctly like a bullet wound had been caused by an engineering accident. The weirdly shaped one that everyone had guessed had been an engineering accident because what else could it be? had turned out to be from when he was kidnapped as a teenager and they'd tried to get information about SI from him.

He was telling them about one of his bigger scars, one that honestly looked like he'd been stabbed somehow, but which was apparently the result of one of his and Rhodey's adventures at MIT. Honestly, after this entire game, all of the other Avengers were more than convinced that, however well Rhodes pretended to be the one in possession of the single brain cell the two shared, there was no way either of them had more than half a brain cell during their entire time at MIT, and that half brain cell was used to pass their classes and nothing more.

Suddenly, just as Tony was detailing how they'd thought blowing up their experiment would somehow prove their theory, the unexpected happened. Hoped for, of course, but the sudden sound of Bucky's laughter still managed to surprise them all in the best way.

Tony grinned, though he didn't stop retelling the story. And if he added a few embellishments, well, who would blame him? If it made Bucky laugh like that, he'd make up a comedy routine if he had to. There'd been more than enough sadness in the guy's life - he deserved to be smiling.

Whumptober day 16 - Pinned Down

My sixteenth fill for @whumptober2019​, also available on Ao3.

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“Should we surrender?”

Steve’s jaw clenched with stubbornness. “We are not surrendering,” he insisted. “They will not beat us. Not like this.”

“We have nowhere to go, Steve,” Clint insisted. “This isn’t a fight we should’ve started, and you know it. We’re out of ammo, and nowhere close to get any. We’re lucky we’ve got cover now, but…”

“The moment we leave it, we’re done for,” Sam agreed, though he sounded no happier about it.

They watched as Steve clenched his fists, trying to think of a way, any way, they could still win this. It didn’t look good, though.

“As much as I dislike agreeing with them, I must admit it seems we are at a disadvantage here,” Thor gravely told them. His hammer was mere feet away, but it might as well be an entire world for all that it would be of no use to them. “It would, perhaps, be best to admit defeat and submit to the tender mercy of our enemies.”

“Tender mercy?” As much as he agreed they wouldn’t be winning this fight, Clint had no illusions. There would be no mercy, not for them.

But despite everything, Steve retained his determination. “Clint’s right. There will be no such thing. And wouldn’t it be better to go down fighting, to be defeated honorably rather than to take the cowardly way out?”

It seemed to spur Thor on at least, but both Clint and Sam looked at him dubiously.

“Yeah, you wanna go down with honor, you go for it,” Sam told him dryly, “but I’m not taking any more hits because you don’t know when to quit.”

“Same,” Clint agreed instantly. When Steve looked at the both of them, betrayed, he glared at the supersoldier. “We don’t have your super healing factor, or your super stubbornness. What we have is common sense, and while I’ll freely admit we should’ve used that a bit sooner so we wouldn’t have ended up like this, at this point surrendering is about the only way I can see of getting out of this without ending up dead or worse.”

“You think they’ll be kind?” Steve asked dubiously.

“I’m mostly hoping they’ll be happy enough to have won that the consequences won’t be too bad,” Clint shrugged.

“So you won’t stand with me? Try one more time, one more push, and see if it can make the difference?” It was clear that Steve wasn’t going to surrender - it went against everything that he was to stop going before he’d given everything he had.

Both Clint and Sam shook their heads. “Sorry, Steve. This is the only way.”

“Thor? Are you with me?” Steve asked, back straight and eyes intent.

“One final stand,” Thor agreed, nodding. He held out a fist, which Steve touched with his own. “Together.”

With horrified awe, Clint and Sam watched as they both jumped out behind the sides of the couch with a loud war cry that was abruptly cut off by two pillows hitting the two of them straight in the faces, hard enough they both stumbled backwards a bit. It left them unstable enough that the next pillows took them down instantly, their war cry now transformed into a cry of pain.

Before they could be struck again, they both rolled back behind the couch, curling up to make sure any other shots wouldn’t hit any vital parts.

“Ready to surrender now?” Sam asked the both of them dryly, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. With two superhumans and a guy known for his impeccable aim, he’d thought he’d picked the right side in this fight.

As it turned out, he’d severely underestimated how much damage a team-up of Bucky, Natasha and Tony could do.

“We’ll surrender,” Steve finally conceded, gingerly feeling his reddened nose.

Definitely the wrong side.

Whumptober days 17-20 - "Stay with me"; Muffled Scream; Asphyxiation; Trembling

A combination fill for @whumptober2019​, since I’ve been absent for a few days. It’s a bit longer, so I’ve added a read-more line. Be careful of the triggers that start showing up after that line - there’s some fairly graphic violence, including murder, in this story. Also available on Ao3.

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It happened so suddenly that there wasn’t anything to do. One moment, it was a regular day where they were calmly wandering the streets, discussing where they should go for dinner.

The next, there was a dart sticking out of Bucky’s neck and he was fading fast.

Reacting quickly, Tony made sure he didn’t hit the ground too roughly as he fell unconscious, pressing the alert button on the side of his watch at the same time. Considering the efficiency, it wasn’t likely to get them help in time, but at least the others would know something was up and hopefully manage to get something set up.

When the men got out of the van, they were wearing masks to make sure they were unrecognizable. But Tony knew that insignia, knew he couldn’t let HYDRA get Bucky back. Not like this.

So he fought, going at them with everything he had. It became clear that they weren’t after him, not at all - if he’d let them, they’d have dragged Bucky with them and left Tony right there on the street to look after them and worry. But he didn’t let that happen, using every single technique any of the other Avengers had ever taught him to make sure he did not get separated from Bucky.

In the end, realizing they needed to get away, they cursed and threw him into the van as well, into the same cage that had been intended for just Bucky.

It was a tight fit, and it left Tony unable to fight them any more as they locked it behind them, but at least he was still with Bucky. And as long as they were together, they could figure out some way to escape, hopefully.

(And if not, well, Tony wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he’d just let them take Bucky.)

Even though he’d been prepared for it, it still hurt when they dragged him out of the cage, prepared as they were for his resistance and too many of them around to fight. He curled into himself as they kicked at him, trying to keep them from getting at his chest and face. Silently, he suspected some of them were getting in some revenge for some of the hits he’d managed earlier.

He knew there wouldn’t be anything he could do, not if they decided to drag him away. There might only have been five of them earlier, that had to deal with getting Bucky off the street as quickly as possible and that also had to contend with Tony’s fighting, but they had a lot more time and a lot more people now.

So he was grateful when he was dragged to the same room Bucky was, though they handcuffed him to the cot in there while they put Bucky’s unconscious body on the other side, where some special (and probably super-strength resistant) cuffs had been attached to the wall.

Unfortunately, they didn’t leave them alone. Instead, there were three men standing inside the door and no doubt some reserve outside.

It could have been anywhere between a few minutes to an hour before Bucky started stirring - considering his tension, Tony honestly couldn’t tell, and it wasn’t like it was really important anyway.

The moment Bucky opened his eyes, one of the men started speaking. “Желание… Ржавый…”

“No,” he groaned, shaking his head. It was obvious he was still affected by whatever they’d used to knock him out, since he barely even managed to struggle against the chains like he obviously wanted.

“Семнадцать…”

“Bucky, stay with me,” Tony implored, even though he knew it probably wouldn’t help. Not if they had the trigger words. “Stay with me, please.”

As much as he didn’t think it would help, clearly HYDRA thought differently. He grunted as one of them hit him, hard, making his head smack into the cot roughly. Then, before he could even try to get Bucky’s attention again, the other shoved a gag into his mouth.

“Рассвет…”

Though his words were muffled through the gag, Tony didn’t give up on trying to get Bucky’s attention, calling out his name. It seemed to be working when, rather than weakly struggling against the chains, Bucky looked at him instead, eyes pained.

“Печь…”

Unfortunately, HYDRA seemed to notice as much as well. Before Tony could even try to avoid it, a solid boot came down on his lower leg. He couldn’t help but scream into the gag as he could feel the bones breaking.

“Девять…”

His breathing came in gasps, made more difficult by the gag blocking his airways and his eyes and nose filling up due to the pain. He refused to cry, though, refused to give Goons One and Two the satisfaction. Instead, he clenched his teeth around the gag, trying his best to steady his breathing so he wouldn’t end up suffocating.

“Добросердечный…”

Bucky was trying to pull out his chains one more, except now it was to get to Tony. There was no doubt he could still hear the words the asshole was saying, but it wasn’t something he was focusing on anymore.

“Возвращение на Родину…”

It took everything Tony had not to whimper at the pain rushing through him in time with his heartbeat. Instead, stubbornly, he locked eyes with Bucky, saying everything he couldn’t through the gag in his mouth. You can do this. I’m here for you. Please stay with me. Don’t let them take you again. We can do this. I am not leaving you.

“Один…”

 Please, Bucky… Don’t leave me, either.

“Грузовой вагон…”

Considering how warm Bucky’s eyes usually were, it was eerie to see how flat they went the moment those final words were spoken. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar - the inquisitive look was still obviously there, though less curious and more analytical. His face had gone still as well, no emotion allowed to shine through anymore.

More than his broken leg, the broken look in Bucky’s eyes made Tony want to cry, and he trembled with the effort not to. It had taken so long to get him comfortable around the Avengers, to get him to trust that HYDRA wouldn’t just be able to get a hold on him again, and here they were.

And there was nothing Tony could do except hope that there was something of Bucky left, enough that it would make HYDRA lose their hold on him enough.

“Солдат?” It was the asshole that had been saying the trigger words out loud, not happy with being ignored.

Some of Tony’s hope died when Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier - instantly replied. “Я готов отвечать.” His voice was nearly as flat as his eyes, though Tony couldn’t help but notice how those gray eyes flicked back to him briefly before focusing once again on the guy that should be able to command him now.

Tony wanted to smack the smirk off the HYDRA asshole’s face, but had to settle for a glare that could have burned him alive.

“Very good,” Asshole said, grinning as he looked straight at Tony. He was fully confident he had Bucky under control now, as evidenced by the fact that he walked straight over to undo the cuffs. Disappointingly, Bucky did not spontaneously attack him, instead standing up slowly.

His normal grace was still obvious, though much like everything else, it seemed more calculated now. There was no unnecessary movement, no casual twitches, no tapping his thumb against his fingers the way Bucky usually did when standing still (or tapping his fingers against Tony’s hand when he was holding it).

“Now…” Tony really didn’t like the look in Asshole’s eyes as he looked down at him. “Break his other leg.”

He couldn’t help his slight flinch at that, no matter how much he didn’t want to show weakness. The broken leg was painful enough on its own, but the idea of Bucky being the one to break the other one…

For a few long moments, the Winter Soldier just looked at him, assessing. Then, just as calmly, he turned to his ‘handler’. “Нет.”

It felt like everyone in the room stopped breathing at that, tension rising quickly. Never before had the Winter Soldier outright refused, not like this, and it was clear HYDRA had no idea how to deal with it.

To be fair, neither did Tony, but since no one was breaking his other leg, he was fine riding this one out from the side.

“What!?” Tony honestly could have told Asshole that getting pissed at the Winter Soldier might not be the best idea when he didn’t seem to have full control of him, but clearly that hadn’t occurred to him. And Tony himself was too busy trying to breathe through his pain to be able to do all that much. “I said, break his other leg!”

Before any of them could even react, the Winter Soldier had moved, metal hand closing around Asshole’s neck.

Goons One and Two jumped into motion, but not nearly quick enough. The Soldier grabbed the gun from the guy’s belt, shooting both of them straight through the forehead before they’d even been able to aim their own guns.

In the meantime, he was still choking Asshole, who was starting to look increasingly purple as he tried to grab at the Soldier’s metal arm. It had no effect, its strength far too much for a regular human to be able to do anything against it, and slowly his struggles grew weaker.

Tony couldn’t say he felt any regret when Asshole joined Goons One and Two on the floor. He wasn’t too sure what to do about the Winter Soldier, though, who appraised him carefully before approaching.

He tried to still his trembling as much as possible - the Soldier had said no, had refused to listen to the guy who’d just recited all of his code words, and had just taken all of them no. After being told to hurt Tony. So he tried to remind himself as much as possible that the Soldier, despite everything else, had just refused to hurt him.

The Soldier was astonishingly gentle as he took the gag out of Tony’s mouth, kneeling down so they were at almost the same height. Then, without saying a word, he looked down at the cuffs keeping Tony tied to the cot and yanked, ripping them loose from the cot without hurting Tony’s wrists.

Before he could even start to think of what to say or do, the Soldier himself spoke up, sounding far more hesitant than he had before.. “Лучик?”

He couldn’t help his blush at that. Being called a ray of sunshine by the Winter Soldier was about the last thing he’d been expecting. “What’s up, Winter Wonderland?” he asked, trying for casual. The fact that he sounded like his throat had been sandpapered probably didn’t help, but he thought he pulled it off admirably.

And when the Soldier said “я готов отвечать” again, it sounded less strained and more like he was choosing to let Tony be the one to decide.

It was the biggest show of trust Tony could’ve ever imagined, and he was determined not to let the Soldier down. Not after what he’d just done for Tony, after making his own decision and turning away from HYDRA for Tony. And when they got back to the rest of the Avengers, they were going to figure this entire thing out, Tony and Bucky and the Soldier together.

They’d figure it out.

Whumptober day 21 - Laced Drink

For the twenty-first fill for @whumptober2019, a pre-WinterIron college AU where the Avengers are all friends. Please be careful if the subject bothers you. Also available on Ao3.

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Initially, they hadn't been too sure about Tony Stark.

They knew of him, of course - everyone on campus did. But the things they'd heard weren't generally good, and then there were the pictures...

But then he'd ended up taking one of the same business classes as Phil and Natasha's friend Pepper, and to their collective astonishment, a few weeks later she ended up bringing him to one of their gatherings.

As hesitant as they all were, they tried to keep an open mind - if Pepper liked him, then he couldn’t be too bad, right?

And he wasn’t. He really, really wasn’t. In contrast with everything they’d heard about him, he ended up being nice, and funny, and incredibly sweet. It was an effort to make sure he didn’t pay for everything, and every single time he responded as though they were some kind of saints for not making him pay. Even his intelligence, which had been rumored to be a lot thanks to his father’s money, was more than obvious.

All of them were somewhat disturbed with the difference between the rumors and the actual kind of person Tony was. It wasn’t hard to tell that the things that were said about him, both behind his back and to his face, affected Tony negatively.

Whenever people responded negatively to him, there was an almost imperceptible flinch. He acted like he brushed it off, but he was always quieter for the rest of the day, more withdrawn.

That, combined with the fact that he was actually a little younger than them despite working on his second doctorate, left the entire group rather protective of him. And it wasn’t even like they needed to do all that much - Bucky, Natasha and Pepper had glares that would chase even the most persistent idiots away, and the disappointed looks of Steve and Phil were legendary. Besides that, a lot of people were rather hesitant about messing with the combined muscle mass of Bucky, Steve, Thor, Sam and Clint, let alone the murderous vibes Natasha could give off.

No, most people had learned better than to mess with Tony, and it seemed to do him a world of good. His smiles were larger and more genuine, and the vibrant look in his eyes was honestly a reward on its own.

Which was why they weren’t prepared for the party.

Despite having grown closer, none of them had asked about the pictures. They guessed it might have to do with Tony being affectionate with those he cared about, and honestly desperate enough for kindness that he’d go a little further than he should. And perhaps that was part of it in some cases, but certainly not all of them.

They’d honestly been having a great time, dancing as a group and separately. Tony was practically bouncing between all of them, vibrant and smiling, and even Bruce was smiling, despite not usually being too comfortable in crowded places. Every once in a while, one of them would break off to dance with someone else for a bit before drifting back to the others. It was honestly one of the most fun parties any of them had ever been to.

And then Tony started acting weird.

Bucky was the first one to notice the way he seemed less energetic than before. His first thought was honestly that someone might have said something, since that tended to bring Tony down, but he’d been smiling not five minutes ago and had been dancing with Clint and Thor since then.

Natasha was the second to notice, if only because she became aware of Bucky focusing on Tony with a frown. The fact that she stopped dancing with her meant Pepper noticed as well, and now it was the three of them watching Tony.

Next to notice was Thor, which made sense, since it happened when Tony stumbled straight into him. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head a bit as if to wake himself up.

By now, they were all moving closer to him, either having noticed how unsteady he was or having noticed the others watching.

“Tony?” It was Pepper who spoke, Bucky moving right next to Tony in case his swaying led to him nearly falling over again. Looking into his eyes, they were duller than they should be, the usual spark of intelligence replaced with exhausted confusion.

“Pep?” He shook his head again, but his eyes wouldn’t quite focus. He swayed against Bucky, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady him. “Wha’s wrong?”

Her face carefully neutral, Natasha moved to stand in front of him. She held up a hand. “Can you give me a high five? First left, then right, please.”

He tried, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. Bucky could feel how much Tony was leaning into him by now, to the point where he wasn’t sure if Tony would be able to stay upright on his own.

Bucky shared a look with Natasha, but before they could decide on how to go about dealing with this, two people showed up next to them.

Both of them had brown hair, the man’s a little lighter than the woman’s. She was the one who spoke up, the smile on her face just the slightest bit off. “Is your friend alright? He looks rather tired, doesn’t he?” she asked sympathetically. “If you want, we can take him to one of the rooms to sleep it off - that way, you can go ahead and keep enjoying the party.”

The guy started moving before she was even finished talking, reaching out as if to grab Tony, and the glare Bucky sent him could have cracked a rock straight through the middle. “I’ve got him,” he stated, voice making it more than clear that he wasn’t letting go.

“Just trying to help.” He’d raised his hands upon seeing the glare on Bucky’s face. “Thought he might be more comfortable upstairs - give him some time to sleep off the alcohol, you know?”

Before Bucky could let his fist get acquainted with the guy’s face, Natasha spoke up. Her fake smile was far more realistic, though Bucky knew her well enough to notice the calculating glint in her eyes. “Thank you for your assistance,” she told them, her voice smooth. “And you are?”

The look the two of them shared was almost too quick to see - almost. “Sally and Tom,” the woman lied to their faces. “Are you sure you don’t want us to just take him somewhere? Wouldn’t want this to ruin your evening, after all, since you seemed to be having a great time out there, and it’s no problem for us to take him.”

Pepper cut in then, a smile on her face that was just a little too sharp. “Thank you, but it’s not nearly as much fun when we’re not all together, you see?”

They shared another quick look, before apparently coming to a decision. “Alright, just trying to be nice,” she told them, holding up her hands defensively. “No need to get all upset about it - not our fault your friend drank a little more than he could handle.”

“I just bet it isn’t,” Natasha told them kindly. By now, the others had more than gotten the implication of what was going on and had just about surrounded Tony and Bucky in a protective wall.

Although her eyes narrowed slightly, ‘Sally’ let the comment slide, walking off with a shrug. ‘Tom’ walked after her, though he did look back at them one more time - by then, Thor had maneuvered his impressive bulk in front of where Tony was leaning heavily into Bucky, so the guy turned back around soon enough, whispering furiously with ‘Sally’.

“I’m going to take them down,” Pepper informed them matter-of-factly. “I am going to find out who they are, and I will make their lives a living hell.”

“We,” Natasha corrected, face and voice both so neutral that it was scary.

“For now, we will be taking Tony back somewhere safe,” Bucky interrupted. The fact that Tony’s eyes were still open was the only indication that he wasn’t unconscious, and Bucky was honestly worried about him. “Where we will keep an eye on him to make sure he’s alright.”

Fortunately, all of them agreed. He honestly preferred for all of them to be there to keep Tony safe. And if it had the added benefit of not being overheard while planning someone’s downfall while also allowing Bucky to be there to plan right along with them, well…

No one hurt their friends.

Whumptober day 22 - Hallucination

A short fill for the twenty-second day of @whumptober2019​, also available on Ao3.

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Unlike most other times, this fight it wasn’t the villain that was the most difficult to take down. In fact, once they’d finally managed to find the guy, it really only took Bucky holding him as Tony took away his weapon and then they were free to hand him over to SHIELD.

No, the far bigger problem was said weapon, which he’d been using to shoot some kind of exploding mushroom of a kind that apparently gave people the worst trip of their lives.

Tony had no idea what they were seeing, but their fear was more than obvious.

That, too, wouldn’t have been a huge issue. Once they’d figured it out, putting on some masks wasn’t a problem, and the SHIELD agents were able to help most of the regular people.

The biggest problem was the fact that some of the Avengers had been hit as well. Tony’s armor protected him well enough, and both Sam and Clint kept enough distance that they’d managed to keep from being hit. Even Bucky, now wearing a mouth guard rather than a muzzle that had been designed by Tony himself, had been safe enough. And he couldn’t help but be entirely grateful for the fact that they hadn’t called in the Hulk, because he wasn’t sure how they’d have dealt with that.

As it were, three of their members had no idea who the others were.

Natasha wasn’t the worst, honestly. Seeing her this way was awful, but her initial reaction had been to run and hide away. Clint and Sam were following her, with some help from JARVIS’ locating of her Widow’s Bites, but it was mostly to make sure nothing else happened to her and to make sure she wouldn’t be alone whenever the stuff wore off.

Bucky had been quick to intercept Steve before he could try to attack any civilians, and was holding his own well enough. Tony had been the one to intercept Thor, only just in time to keep his lightning from hitting anything it shouldn’t.

They were the ones in most trouble because, despite the fact that they could theoretically take on Steve and Thor, they didn’t want to hurt their friends when they were obviously already afraid of what they were seeing. It left them mostly taking hits so they wouldn’t hit anything or anyone else, as well as trying to reassure their friends that everything was fine, that it would be better soon.

Predictably, it seemed like Steve and Thor couldn’t hear them.

“You okay?” he asked Bucky, grunting as Thor slammed his hammer down again. His arms were going somewhat numb, but he was also a little hesitant about letting Thor hit his chest full-on.

Initially, all he heard was a responding grunt. “Not great, but managing.” There was a ‘thud’, followed by another grunt. “Just hope it wears off soon.”

“Agreed,” Tony sighed. “J, any estimation?”

“Unfortunately, no one has shown indications of the effects wearing off yet.”

Tony groaned, hearing Bucky do the same. “Maybe their enhanced metabolism will make it wear off sooner?” he tried hopefully, bringing his arms up to fend off yet another hit. Worryingly, the armor was starting to show some wear and tear, but he still didn’t want to hurt Thor. That meant he might be getting in trouble soon, and from what he was hearing, Bucky seemed to be sharing the same problem.

“... This is gonna be a long day," the assassin groaned.

“... I think so, too.”

Whumptober day 23 - Bleeding Out

For my 23rd fill for @whumptober2019, I wrote this pre-WinterIron story in an AU with supernatural creatures. It’s also available on Ao3.

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It had happened so quickly that Tony honestly couldn’t quite recall what happened. One moment he was calmly walking down the street; the next, he found himself lying in an alley, bleeding out from multiple stab wounds.

Weakly, he tried to sit up, only to fall back down the one inch he’d managed when the pain hit him.

“Help?” he tried, but he couldn’t quite manage to speak any louder than a whisper.

Closing his eyes, he wondered if he should just resign himself to his fate. His attacker had taken his phone, though there was no way the guy would manage to hack his way in - JARVIS himself kept Tony’s phone safe and inaccessible to anyone but him.

At least it meant that JARVIS would be able to find the person who’d done this to him.

He wasn’t sure why, either. It had occurred to him that it might be a mugging, but his wallet was still safe in his pocket. Only his phone had been taken, making sure he wouldn’t be able to call for help.

Maybe it was because of who he was. An actual assassination attempt for being Tony Stark. He had no illusions about being perfect, but… He’d been helping, right? His weapons kept American soldiers safe, and his multitude of other inventions made lives easier and more comfortable. More and more, he’d been moving to the fields that had truly interested him when he’d been learning about engineering and programming.

He thought he’d been doing better.

No words had been exchanged, not as far as he could recall. Just gloved hands and a sharp knife, before he was left alone to die.

No reason had been given at all.

Cold was creeping up on him, but he couldn’t even shiver. Instead, all he could do was look up at the dark sky.

Weirdly enough, the thought hit him that he would’ve preferred to die under the light of the stars, however difficult they might be to see in the middle of New York City - instead, there were clouds obscuring them, making the sky look empty and dreary.

He tried to swallow, failing and coughing instead. It made pain rush through him once again, and he couldn’t help his stifled moan. Damn, but he didn’t want to die. Not yet. There was so much he still wanted to do, so much he still thought he could improve. Now that he was finally old and settled enough that the board listened to him when he suggested avenues other than weapons, he’d been getting to where he’d wanted to take Stark Industries since he’d been young.

He didn’t want to die yet.

Focusing on the clouds, however dreary they were, he tried to keep on breathing. The longer he could manage to keep surviving, the more time there was for someone to perhaps find him and get him to a hospital.

There wasn’t a lot he could move, but he did still have his expensive leather wallet and a somewhat functioning right arm. So, trying to keep his breathing steady, he slowly reached for his wallet, letting his arm fall back down once he’d gotten a hold of it. Victory. Then, slowly, he started slapping it onto the ground.

It didn’t make much of a sound, but at least it was more than his voice could produce.

Damn, Pepper would be so pissed at him. Not to mention Rhodey. And Obie, too.

He just hoped Happy wouldn’t feel too bad for suddenly falling ill. That wasn’t something he could help, after all, and there was no way Tony was forcing the man to keep acting as a bodyguard when he should be home and resting.

As he grew increasingly cold, he just found himself wishing he could get a message to them somehow. Not even to save him anymore - he wasn’t sure that was even possible, not with his injuries and the amount of blood he’d lost, though he was still determined to keep trying. But just to let them know that he cared, and that he knew how incredibly lucky he had been to have them in his life and caring for him.

Honestly, it wasn’t even that bad anymore. The pain was starting to fade out of awareness, and instead he mostly felt tired. It was becoming a struggle to keep his eyes open, and his slow tapping with the wallet was tapering off into a silence filled only with his increasingly strained breathing.

Until a shadow appeared above him.

It wasn’t much of a shadow, not with the lack of light, but it woke Tony up just a little. Not enough to speak, not with the way every breath was a struggle by now, but enough to look at the man that had appeared.

He was attractive - shoulder-length brown hair, intense light eyes, and a highly attractive stubble adorning a jawline that had Tony envious. His broad build and dark clothes should probably have felt threatening, but he was honestly beyond that. Instead, he found himself wondering if it would be possible to experience one last touch, one last confirmation. If it would be possible not to die on his own.

“Oh, sweetheart… That don’t look good,” he said softly, and Tony managed the slightest shiver at the sound of his voice. It was like a warm blanket surrounding him, leaving him feeling peaceful and comforted.

Even more than before, he struggled to keep his eyes open. He wasn’t alone anymore, and he wanted to savor every moment of it.

Which was why he could observe the contemplative look on the man’s face as he looked down at Tony, as well as the exact moment he appeared to come to a decision. As well as the exact moment fangs descended from the sides of his mouth.

Rather than feeling afraid, or threatened, Tony just gave into it. The touch of lips on the wound that appeared to have just missed his heart was more gentle than he thought anyone but Rhodey had touched him in years. It didn’t take long, not with how much he’d bled already, and for a brief moment he wondered if the vampire had decided to simply take advantage of the situation and drain him completely.

Then there was a wrist in front of his mouth, the tiniest slice releasing a clear liquid. The moment the taste hit him, Tony couldn’t help but latch on, drinking as deeply as he could in his weakened state.

Vaguely, he was aware of a large hand cradling his head as he sucked, stroking his hair just a little. He leaned into it just a little, aware he was probably acting like a cat desperate for attention, but he couldn’t help himself. Already, it felt like coming home.

Still incredibly gently, the vampire pulled his wrist away. It was tempting to follow, to taste some more of that ambrosia, but that would mean pulling away from the hand still stroking his hair. So he leaned into it, into the vampire’s body. He knew it shouldn’t be, but to him, it felt warm and safe.

As the Change set in, he could feel the way he was picked up gently in a bridal carry, allowing his head to fall against that strong chest. In response, the arms tightened just a little to pull him even closer.

There was a soft whisper, barely audible. “I’ll take care of you now, sweetheart.”

Then, everything went black.

Whumptober day 24 - Secret Injury; 25 - Humiliation; 26 - Abandoned

Another fill for @whumptober2019​, and another one that’s pre-WinterIron and an amalgamation of multiple prompts. It’s also available on Ao3.

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"Never again," Clint groaned.

From around the Quinjet there were sounds of agreement, though none of them had the energy to do more than that.

Today's battle had been simply awful, and none of them had gotten out of it without at least a few bruises, if not worse. Hours upon hours of fighting meant they were also completely exhausted.

Most of them had collapsed where they'd been standing when the fight finally ended. Bucky and Natasha had held on by a single stubborn thread, but Tony had carried all of the others to the Quinjet in the armor, trying to get them as comfortable as possible before getting behind the controls and starting to fly them back somewhere they would have medical attention they could trust.

Once he had the jet in the air and set to fly under JARVIS' control for a while, Tony stared out of the window for a little while. Then, shutting his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath, he got up again.

The Quinjet might not have a large amount of medical supplies, but it did have some emergency things stocked. "J, keep track and order new supplies." He knew he didn't have the energy at the moment to make note of whatever he was using, let alone remember it to replace it later. Fortunately, that was why he had JARVIS.

Sam was the first he saw to, if only because the gash on his arm still hadn’t stopped bleeding. He honestly didn’t imagine it would without stitches, but it was at least important to staunch the flow a little. So, after rinsing it out quickly to make sure there would be as little dirt in there as possible, he smeared some disinfectant cream over there and wrapped it up. The doctors would do better later, but for now it was important to keep him from bleeding too much.

“Any other big wounds?” he asked, managing to sound far less tired than he felt.

“Nothing open,” Sam admitted. “Bruises, wrist might be sprained or broken.”

Grabbing one of the multitudes of cold packs was quickly done, and after putting it down on Sam’s wrist and seeing him relax, Tony moved on to Steve. His supersoldier healing was already at work repairing the damage, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot of it.

It took some bandages and cold packs, but soon Steve relaxed at least some. Bucky had the same deal, though he did admit his leg might be broken as well. Since he honestly didn’t know enough to be sure of how to set a leg so it’d heal right, Tony just made a mental note to have it checked out by a doctor as soon as possible.

Slowly but surely, he worked his way through all of them. Most of his work involved applying cold packs to wherever things hurt the most and hoping it’d help with the pain at least a little, since he didn’t want to play with medicine when the doctors might need to give some of them something and it could possibly interact. He did at least notice some of their strain easing a little, so he had to be doing something right.

Finally, Bruce only needed a blanket - the Hulk had taken damage, but that didn’t transfer to Bruce. But he was even more exhausted than usual, not even responding when Tony gently eased him up a little to drink a meal replacement shake. It was cautious work when he wasn’t entirely conscious, and Tony almost wanted to skip it, but he knew the Hulk spent enough energy that leaving Bruce to just sleep it off might mean he’d end up in the medical wing anyway due to a dangerously low blood sugar level. At least this way, he wasn’t in immediate danger, though it was likely he could still use an infusion for the first few hours.

“Dude… How?” Clint groaned as he finally stepped away from Bruce, empty packet in his hand.

“Regular insomniac,” Tony told him with a fair attempt at a grin.

“And a suit that protects you extremely well,” Sam noted, managing to sound both complementary and a little jealous.

“Regular genius insomniac,” he allowed. He couldn’t say he was too surprised when both Clint and Sam graced him with a look only slightly better than if they’d stuck out their tongues. His huff was close enough to laughter that it made both of them glare playfully. “You’re just jealous.”

“Very,” Sam deadpanned, but since Clint hissed out a “Yesssssssss” at the same time, he didn’t take it to heart.

“I mean, our protective suits are great, but it’s gotta help when you’ve got your mechanical suit to do a lot of the fighting.”

Tony just grinned at them. He was well-aware of how easy it was to assume the suit did most of the work, especially since he usually managed to look pretty bright-eyed and bushy-tailed even after a long fight. It wasn’t always ideal, but he preferred it over having them worry about him.

Once they finally landed, he took them to medical one by one. Bruce, as expected, got an IV line and a bed to rest. He didn’t even wake up when Tony picked him up, so he was glad there were experts to look after Bruce now.

Sam got stitches for the gash in his arm and had, unfortunately, broken his wrist. Once that was taken care of, the doctors ended up setting a couple of bones for both Bucky and Steve, though their healing would have to take care of the rest. Little by little, Tony watched as his teammates were taken care of, the doctors busily working around all of them as they switched tasks smoothly.

Perhaps, for situations like these, he should see if there was any more trustworthy personnel that could work on the Avengers? They were enough after regular missions, but now even the less human members of their team needed extensive treatment.

Still, he was sure they were in good hands.

Abandoning them to the care of the doctors, Tony headed off to his workshop. Once the door closed behind him, JARVIS immediately spoke up. “Sir…”

“I know.”

Now that he didn’t have the others to worry about worrying, he didn’t bother putting in effort to keep the strain from his voice. Instead, he stumbled over to the corner he’d designed for when taking the armor off on his own was either too much or simply impossible.

“I would advise you to see a doctor, Sir,” JARVIS informed him as he went to work gently removing the armor.

“They’re busy with the others,” Tony dismissed him. “Not to mention that, even if my ribs are bruised or broken, there’s not a lot to do except take pain medication and cooling it.”

“They would be able to tell if anything was displaced, however. Not to mention there appear to be some other injuries as well that should be checked out, including but not limited to a possible fracture in your left arm and a sprained or broken right ankle.” JARVIS was matter-of-fact about it, and Tony knew he was right. He didn’t think anything was too bad, but without a scan, there was simply no way of being certain.

Still, he shook his head. “I’ll just take it easy for now. They’ve got the others to worry about. I’ll go see them later.”

It was obvious JARVIS disapproved, but rather than push it, he simply guided DUM-E to support Tony for a quick toilet visit before moving over to the couch. Then, he encouraged the ‘bot to grab some cold packs for the injured areas, as well as some bottled water. Tony was grateful for it, resolving to do something nice for his creations when he was feeling better.

One advantage of the suit was certainly that it tended to keep his bones in place, meaning he wasn’t too worried about anything starting to heal wrong. Especially in the few hours it would take for the doctors to take the best care of the others.

He dozed off a few times, but only slightly. The pain made it impossible to truly relax, and every breath hurt just enough to keep him awake despite his exhaustion.

“Sir, the doctors are done with taking care of the others,” JARVIS alerted him.

As he started to get up, he found that he simply… couldn’t. The exhaustion and pain made it so he could hardly even move his mostly uninjured right arm, let alone the rest of his body. So rather than getting up like he knew he should, he just remained where he was.

“Sir?”

He wasn’t too sure what to say. ‘I can’t move’ was incredibly embarrassing, but he’d also sort of promised to go see the doctors once they were free. “I… think my body might be a bit done with today?” he settled for, grimacing a little at how silly that sounded. “I’m trying, but…”

Before he could get too worried, or doze off again - it was honestly a toss-up at the moment - JARVIS announced he had a visitor. “Sergeant Barnes is at the workshop door, Sir.”

Frowning in confusion, Tony couldn’t help but let out a surprised “why?”.

“From what I can gather, he appeared concerned for you upon noticing you weren’t in the medical wing with everyone else. He then asked me if you were on your floor or in the workshop, and I informed him the latter was the case.”

Part of Tony was embarrassed to be seen like this, but another part of him was honestly warmed that Bucky had actually worried about him. It was that part that won out, nodding to JARVIS for permission to let the supersoldier in.

Of course, he regretted it almost immediately when Bucky frowned with concern, sharp eyes noting the multitude of cold packs that DUM-E had kept regularly taking off and reapplying.

“How hurt are you?” was the first question he asked, moving straight past worrying and into caring.

“I was going to see the doctors after they were done with all of you,” Tony justified himself.

At that, Bucky’s eyes softened just a little. “Not blaming you - your body, your choice. Not gonna pretend I like it, but you do what you think is best. Just worried about you.” He stepped closer, giving DUM-E a pat on his claw as the ‘bot came to say hello. “Docs are done with us though - nothing left to do but wait for everything to heal now. Steve and Thor are keeping an eye on the others for now, since we’re mostly healed already.”

His face felt like it was burning up, though he wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or embarrassment. “I… can’t move,” he admitted, and yeah, it was humiliation.

Despite the way worry sharpened his eyes, Bucky remained gentle and respectful. “Do you… I mean, are you okay with me helping you over there? Or is there anything else I can do?”

And yes, he was incredibly embarrassed. Ever since he’d been young, he’d been taught that needing help was weak, and that he should be able to do things on his own no matter what. But even though there was nothing he could do at the moment, even though his body didn’t even listen to him, Bucky did. Rather than let his concern take over, he asked Tony what he wanted, and there was no doubt in his mind that Bucky would respect his decision even if he decided to just keep sitting there.

It was that respect that enabled him to overcome his embarrassment enough to nod just a little. “I… If you could? Support me?”

He didn’t think he’d be able to handle Bucky carrying him, no matter how much that might be the wiser option for his ribs. And rather than argue, Bucky just nodded, gently helping him off the couch and supporting him as much as possible while still allowing him to stand on his own.

If he had to pinpoint it, that was the moment that started to transform his basic attraction into more.

Whumptober day 27 - Ransom

For the 27th day of @whumptober2019​, another slightly lighter fill. Also available on Ao3.

----- ----- -----

“You’re joking,” he said incredulously.

“Do we look like we’re joking?” Kidnapper 1 asked, and from what Tony had seen so far, he appeared to be the leader in this entire plan. He’d been the one to tell the others what to do and where to go.

He also looked the most serious about it all. Most of the others seemed a bit uncertain at best, and Tony didn’t think they had a lot of history when it came to criminal acts.

“Look, just… Consider, and I will tell you this only once, that this is a terrible idea that will get you imprisoned at best and maimed or killed at worst, and there is still time to go back, but not a lot of time, if you get my meaning.”

They did not get his meaning.

“Shut up,” Kidnapper 1 snarled, and actually made the mistake of hitting him, which kind of signed his death warrant.

Tony just rolled his eyes. “Your funeral, man,” he said, shrugging to the extent he could with his arms tied to the chair. He just figured it’d be nicer to warn these people, considering they were obviously amateurs, and give them a chance to change their minds before it was too late.

Behind Kidnapper 1, it appeared that the other three were kind of worried about his warning, however. It was Kidnapper 2 that ended up asking what they clearly all wanted to ask. “Ehm… Why is this a terrible idea?”

“Because he’s just trying to unsettle us,” Kidnapper 1 sneered. “Don’t listen to him - I’m getting the recording equipment. Stick to the plan.”

Such obvious amateurs. Tony kind of wanted to sigh, although he refrained. If these people would be willing to listen to him, all the better. “Stark Industries does not pay ransoms,” he explained to them.

“But you’re Tony Stark,” Kidnapper 3 argued. “They’ll want you back, right?”

“You send that message, it ends up with Pepper Potts, who will immediately alert the Avengers. There’s never gonna be any ransom - it’s not gonna take them all that long to figure out where I am and who’s holding me, and when I do, they’re going to come get me. That’s all that’s going to happen here.”

He meant it, too. Pepper knew better than to start paying ransoms, because once that started it wouldn’t end. But no doubt JARVIS had been looking for him ever since losing contact, and he had no doubts the others would be showing up soon.

Which he wouldn’t mind, really. He’d appreciate the help. But if he could get himself out of here before they could, it would be even better.

Kidnappers 2, 3 and 4 were whispering to one another, and while he couldn’t understand what they were saying, it was clear they were taking his warning a lot more seriously than Kidnapper 1 did. Which they should, because despite his reputation, he was definitely one of the more forgiving Avengers.

Okay, that was a lie, but he had no problems forgiving people who came after him. Go after his friends and all bets were off.

“And if we brought you back now?” It was Kidnapper 2, and while he didn’t sound entirely certain about this course of action, he was at least considering it.

“We all make mistakes,” Tony told them. “I’ll tell the others to play nice and let me deal with it myself, and we’ll take a look at why you chose to make this particular one and what can be done so you’re not tempted to try something like this again.” Because he had no illusions that these people were desperate for money, for whatever reason. He’d have to be careful about setting any kind of precedent, but on the other hand, if they showed that they’d be willing to be reasoned with…

And as for the Avengers, it didn’t seem like Kidnapper 1 was going to change his mind, so they wouldn’t be left completely empty-handed.

Which was how Tony Stark ended up showing right back up at the Tower, only a few bruises richer, with three little ducklings behind him. He could hear the way they swallowed as the attention of the Avengers was directed at them - it probably didn’t help that the others were already armed and looked ready to go out for a hunt of epic proportions.

“Not to worry guys, got everything solved,” he told them cheerily, which at least got him Steve’s attention. No doubt the others were listening as well, but they were also making sure to keep an eye on his former kidnappers.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked, assessing him carefully for anything obviously wrong.

Only the bruise on his cheek was instantly obvious, however, and he noticed the way Steve’s eyes kept returning to that. “Only some small bruises, nothing serious,” he shrugged it off. “Most of it was the other guy, anyway - which reminds me, would any of you be available to pick him up where we left him?”

Hilariously, only Bruce didn’t immediately volunteer, and Tony gave the others the address where they’d left Kidnapper 1 tied to the same chair he’d been stuck in. Then he grudgingly allowed the other scientist to look him over ‘just in case’ while his former kidnappers waited in one of the smaller conference rooms for him to talk to them, monitored carefully by JARVIS.

And although he grumbled outwardly, he couldn’t help the smile breaking through.

He loved his family.

Whumptober day 28 - Beaten

This @whumptober2019​ fill is a High School AU and is also available on Ao3. No pairings, but it’s sort of pre-Avengers as family :) There is some cursing in this.

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Tony gritted his teeth as another foot hit his legs, the same time another one hit his back. By now, he’d curled up to protect his chest and head, but they didn’t show any sign of stopping.

He would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry, though. He might be bruised, and bloody, and dirty, but they would not break him.

"Yeah, not so high and mighty anymore, are you, Stark?"

The best thing to do would be to stay silent, to just let them get it out so they’d feel like they won and would walk away. But if there was anything Tony was terrible at, it was keeping his mouth shut when he should.

So he looked up at Stone, at Hammer, at Killian, at Vanko, at Beck, and sneered. “Fuck you.”

Just in time, he managed to protect his face from the kick that followed. They got even more vicious, and he wondered if his ribs would be broken, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when he’d seen the way it had knocked all of them off the high horses they felt they were on, the way it made them feel like they were the weak ones.

Which they were, honestly. Five against one, there was no way Tony could fight back and win and they had known it. Which was why, despite most of them usually hanging out with others, they’d gone for this together.

Because they all hated Tony.

Being smart, and rich, and good-looking, had not made him all that popular overall. There were enough people who wanted to be his ‘friends’ as long as they could get something out of it, and there were times where he was tempted. But if there was anything he’d learned from his Aunt Peggy, aside from how to defend himself, it was not to compromise himself for others, not when they would never return the favor.

It had left him fairly alone, which was an unfortunately familiar feeling, but at least he still felt like he could respect himself.

Unfortunately, that also left him vulnerable. And when the people who disliked him didn’t even have the courtesy of dealing with him individually, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do but try to make sure they wouldn’t do any lasting damage.

With the way they were carrying on, he was starting to worry.

“Hey! What’s going on here!?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and the hitting stopped.

Tentatively, Tony looked over to where the voice had come from, only to see Steve Rogers. And not just him, either - he had his entire group of friends with him, and none of them looked very happy.

“Mind your own business,” Hammer told them.

“Just teaching the Stark kid a little lesson,” Stone elaborated a little. Considering Tony was well-known and unpopular, he probably thought they’d leave them be after that. And Tony had to admit, for a moment he was afraid they would do exactly that.

But apparently, their rumored intolerance of bullying even extended to Tony himself, because Rogers only stepped closer, the others right with him. “Leave him alone.”

“Why the hell do you care?” Beck snapped. “Not like anyone gives a shit about him.”

“Last chance, assholes.” Rogers tended to be nicer about things - until he threw himself straight into a fight. Barnes, his best friend, had no such compunctions. “Back off or get your asses beat.”

They did not back off, and all Tony could do was watch in astonishment as Rogers, Barnes and the others completely swept the floor with the five of them. For him.

Huh. They might have hurt some ribs after all. His chest was feeling warm in a way it usually didn’t.

Whumptober day 29 - Numb

Today’s @whumptober2019​ fill involves the friendship between Tony and Rhodey when the latter comes to find his friend after his parents have died. It’s also available on Ao3.

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When Jim found him, he was just… sitting. Staring.

“I’m so sorry, man,” he told his best friend, hesitantly sitting down next to him. Tony was usually very touchy and affectionate, like the younger brother he’d never had, but considering the situation, he wasn’t sure what to do.

“It’s… Thank you.” Even Tony’s voice sounded more distant than usual.

For a long while, the two of them just sat in silence. As much as Jim wanted to be there for him, he wasn’t quite sure how to. So he just stayed, hoping it would help at least a little.

Eventually, Tony spoke up, his voice even. “Is it normal to just… not really feel anything?” He breathed, briefly looking over to Jim before going back to staring out the window again, where a thin layer of snow was covering the landscape. “I mean, somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should be… feeling. Grieving. But it all just feels numb.”

Jim grimaced a little. The only experience with death he could remember, if vaguely, was when his grandfather had died, and that had been over ten years ago. And while he’d liked the man well enough, eleven was not an age where he’d entirely comprehended everything going on.

But he couldn’t even try to imagine losing either of his parents, let alone both of them at the same time. His mind retreated from the very thought as if burnt.

He guessed Tony’s mind might be doing something similar to that, no matter how strained his relationship with his father might have been. “I can’t say if it’s normal or not,” he confessed, “but I can’t say I blame you.”

Silence fell again and, hoping he was doing the right thing, Jim reached out and grabbed Tony’s hand. He’d worried that Tony might pull away, that it might be too much at the moment, but instead he intertwined his fingers with Jim’s and held on.

No doubt that it would all hit, and that Tony would get emotional. It might take a few hours, or a few days… maybe even a few weeks, or months, or even years. But Jim was determined to be there for his friend no matter how long it took, and no matter in what kind of way his grief would express itself.

There was no doubt in his mind Tony would do the exact same for him, had been no doubt that they would be there for one another ever since the day they’d met one another.

More than friends, they were family.

Whumptober day 30 - Recovery

My second-to-last fill for @whumptober2019​, a somewhat silly Pre-WinterIron AU where Tony goes to a rehabilitation center after getting heart surgery. It’s also available on Ao3.

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Rhodey and Pepper had been the ones to convince him to go to the Marvel Rehabilitation Center.

He’d argued at first. He’d managed to make it through the first operation, after all, and those circumstances had been less than ideal. This time he had anesthetics, and he wasn’t being tortured, and he had time to heal at his own pace instead of racing against time to try to figure out a way to escape.

When he’d said so, they’d only looked sad, which hadn’t been his intention. He just wanted to make it clear that he didn’t need any help, medical or psychological, because he could deal with it.

They had argued just as hard and, when outlining the many benefits of medical and psychological help as well as having a place where there would be other people around to keep him busy in medically appropriate ways did not work, they pleaded with him. And while he was great at saying ‘no’ to their arguments, he was incredibly weak to their pleas.

So the Marvel Rehab Center it was.

For the first few days, he’d hated it. He didn’t want to talk about his traumas (he would like to forget all about them) and he didn’t want any assistance (he would like to just work his way through everything like he usually did).

Still, he’d remembered his promise to his best friends, and so he tried. Marvel was huge, after all, dealing with all kinds of problems and people. So he figured that, if nothing else, he’d be able to find a way to be less bored. Rehab-appropriate diversion was what he’d been promised, and he’d find it even if it killed him.

The staff hadn’t been too pleased with the fact that he’d sort of gone missing for a few hours, but Tony figured it had been more than worth it (and he bet that if he asked the staff now, they’d agree - he’d been a lot calmer and more agreeable since).

Steve had been the first one he’d met. Steve was tiny and ready to throw down whenever and also suffered from a laundry list of illnesses that he had apparently thrown down with ever since he was born. Tony liked him instantly.

Bruce was the second one. From what Tony could gather, he’d had some bad history which had resulted in Dissociative Identity Disorder, with an alternate identity named Hulk. It was also easy to tell that Bruce was terrified of hurting anyone, and despised Hulk for his violent tendencies (though always towards objects rather than people). Besides that, though, he was also a brilliant scientist, and Tony had zero hesitation about hanging out with him as often as possible.

Natasha was the third, and Tony was honestly not entirely sure what was up with her. He guessed it had something to do with the suspicious way she tended to watch everyone, or the way she had a tendency of appearing this close to killing someone. But she’d looked lonely, and everyone had appeared to be afraid of her. Tony could basically feel Rhodey and Pepper facepalming in the distance as he approached her.

Clint was next. Clint was a disaster. Chaotic, depressed, and beyond clumsy. He also had the single best sense of humor Tony had ever found. He’d decided he was adopting Clint.

Sam was also depressed, as well as traumatized, from losing his best friend. He seemed to find part of his own purpose in helping out others at the Center and often led some sort of mindfulness group that Tony had said he would join only if Steve would. Considering the thought of Steve trying out mindfulness was laughable, he wasn’t anticipating that would be something to worry about.

Thor was loud and cheerful and had body dysmorphic disorder. He tried his best to be cheerful and it was clear that most of the other people found him overwhelming. The fact that he was incredibly tall and incredibly muscular didn’t help much. Thor laughed at Tony’s jokes when he made them and clapped him on the shoulder hard enough that he wondered if it had left a bruise.

Finally (and perhaps most importantly), there was Bucky. Bucky, who had seen war. Bucky, who had lost his left arm. Bucky, who had then been held as a prisoner of war. Bucky, who was ridiculously attractive and ridiculously sarcastic and ridiculously smart.

Tony had decided he wanted to marry Bucky.

He wasn’t in a hurry - it was clear Bucky was not comfortable with himself, didn’t feel like he was in a position to get into a relationship. But Tony was more than willing to wait if that was what it took, and eventually he’d be able to ask Bucky out and hope the other man would say ‘yes’ so Tony could get on with his twelve-step plan towards marrying him.

That evening, he’d texted Rhodey and Pepper. Met my future husband. You’ll love him.

He might not have wanted to go here, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not as he looked around at all of them. Not as Steve threatened to fight Thor, who looked at him like he was a particularly adorable puppy. Not as Clint knocked over their game board accidentally and Bruce facepalmed. Not as Sam and Bucky snarled at one another, looking about ready to tear each others’ throats out. Not even as Natasha pulled out a knife from somewhere (and he was pretty sure she wasn’t allowed to have them) and told them all to shut the hell up and sit down before she made them.

In fact, he mused, he should send Rhodey and Pepper a thank-you card. Perhaps the others would even add a message of their own.

Whumptober day 31 - Embrace

My final fill for @whumptober2019​! A very whumpy WinterIron ficlet that is also available on Ao3. Thank you all so much for following me this month, and I hope you’ve enjoyed it!!

----- ----- -----

He wasn’t going to last much longer.

Every single part of him was hurting. He had long since passed being exhausted. Some of his wounds had become infected, and he was pretty sure some of his bones had been broken and were healing wrong. Not to mention the fact that the cough he’d developed was worrying him. Ever since Afghanistan, his lungs had already been compromised, and he wouldn’t be surprised to find out they’d gotten infected as well.

If the others didn’t find him soon, he was afraid it might end up being too late. And what was worse, they’d started to make him doubt.

Usually, people would kidnap him for ransom or to make him build them something. It was what he’d been used to since far too young, and he knew how to deal with either of those situations.

These people hadn’t, though. As far as he knew, there had been no demands - to Pepper, to Rhodey, to Bucky, or to the other Avengers. And they certainly hadn’t let him anywhere near anything he could use to get himself out. Instead, the only thing they seemed to want was to make him suffer as much as possible.

Oddly enough, the physical torture wasn’t even the worst. It hurt, and it might be what ended up killing him, but mentally, he could deal with it. But they’d kept him awake for days with lights, with noise, and despite being used to some sleep deprivation, this had quickly surpassed his ability to handle it. And then there was the mental torture - the curses, he was familiar with. Even the way they told him, over and over again, that everything was his fault, that he was a terrible person and that his weapons had killed thousands, that he would burn in hell for all eternity, was familiar.

It was the certainty with which they told him that no one was coming for him that threatened to break him, though. The way they yelled that no one cared about him, because how could they, and they would be glad to be rid of him. The way they laughed and told him he was pathetic, thinking people could actually love someone like him.

Somehow, it felt as though they’d dug up his deepest, darkest fears and threw them straight into his face. It was everything he’d ever worried about, all of the things he had thought but never said out loud.

He’d managed, so far, to pretend it didn’t bother him that much. Three days in, he’d gone silent, stoically gritting his teeth and mentally chanting ‘Stark men are made of iron’ over and over and over again. Outwardly, they might be able to see that he was suffering, but he could still pretend that they hadn’t broken him.

Maybe they hadn’t, yet. Maybe this was just bending, farther than he’d ever thought he could. As long as he didn’t let them see him break, maybe… Maybe he hadn’t, yet.

Through it all, he’d tried to remind himself that they’d come. He might be all of the bad things they said and more, but… They knew about that. Rhodey had known him since he’d been a teenager, had been there through so many highs and lows that he probably knew more about Tony than he knew about himself. Bucky had gotten to know things about him that he’d never told anyone else and still stuck with him, still told him he loved him. Pepper, the other Avengers...

They all knew him, good sides and bad, and they still cared. There was no way they’d faked that, no way they would pretend to like him just for his money or his tech.

(Except he’d thought Obie cared as well, hadn’t he?)

((But Rhodey and Pepper both would’ve been set for life if he’d ended up dying in Afghanistan. Yet they’d never stopped looking for him, never stopped setting up search missions to try to find him.))

Lack of sleep wasn’t helping when it came to trying to have faith. His mind oscillated wildly between the hope that the others cared, that they were looking for him, and the despair of knowing he wasn’t worth it and they shouldn’t come for him, wouldn’t come for him.

He coughed again, grimacing at the way it made agony course through him. There were a few trickles of blood as some of his wounds opened again due to the movement.

Gritting his teeth, Tony reminded himself to just hang on.

They were looking for him. They had to be. They were his friends, his family. They weren’t fake, not like Obie had been. He might not be worth it, might deserve to die right here, suffering until his last breath. But that wasn’t the kind of people they were. They were good, and honest. They were heroes. And he knew he was not a good person, but somehow they must have found something in him that was decent enough for him to deserve having them care about him.

So all he had to do was last.

 Stark men are made of iron. Hang on. They are coming.

He repeated it to himself over and over and over, ignoring the pain as they hit him, cut him, kicked him.

He repeated it to himself over and over and over, drowning out their voices as they yelled about how terrible he was, how pathetic, how worthless.

He repeated it to himself over and over and over, clutching to it desperately as they pushed him down into a tub of salt water that made him want to scream.

 Stark men are made of iron. Hang on. They are coming.

He was still holding onto it when the gunfire started, when there were yells and screams and roars. And he had to crush the little spark of hope, because if it wasn’t them, that might just end up breaking him.

Instead he held on, breathing as evenly as possible and listening carefully for hints of what was going on. And if, in his mind, a litany of please please please had started, well… No one else could hear that, or judge him for his weakness.

And then the door was slammed open, bouncing off the wall and off the hinges.

Bucky was dressed in full gear, one hand holding a gun and the other a knife. The look on his face was absolutely murderous, and even the black of his gear couldn’t hide the blood.

The moment his eyes met Tony’s, his entire face softened in a way that was so intimately familiar that Tony’s breath caught for a moment. “Tony…” Of course, then he looked at the rest of Tony, and his face looked like it could have been carved from stone. Tony knew him well enough to know that, right now, Bucky very badly wanted to go out there and make every single person that had hurt him suffer.

Rather than doing that, though, he stepped further into the room. “Found him,” he informed the others, voice flat and business-like. Tony couldn’t hear what the others were saying, but he could guess when Bucky’s next words were “alive, but injured. Badly.”

After informing the others, though, he once again focused fully on Tony. “Oh, doll…”

He wanted to speak up, wanted to say hello, or that he’d missed him, or that he’d be fine. But he didn’t want to risk it, not with his injuries and his lungs and the way that his throat felt like he’d swallowed knives. So instead he just attempted the best smile he could, feeling the way it sat unevenly on his face.

And then Bucky was there, and for the first time in what felt like ages, someone touched him without hurting him. The whimper he let out was completely involuntary, instantly triggering another coughing fit that made his eyes water with the pain of it.

Through all of it, Bucky held him, somehow managing to find the exact right balance between tight enough to make Tony feel secure without being so tight that it would hurt more or injure him further.

He didn’t have a lot of strength to move with, but with the bit he had left, he buried his face into Bucky’s neck, savoring the warmth, the feeling of utter and complete safety that Bucky always inspired in him. With Bucky holding him, nothing would hurt him anymore. And while he was still very aware of his injuries, they seemed somehow less painful now.

As he pressed a small, desperately grateful kiss into Bucky’s neck, he could feel the way those strong arms tightened just a little, the way Bucky curled around him protectively.

“I’ve got you, doll. We’re here, we’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

Whumptober - 1. Shaky Hands

Working on Whump-tober

Peter reaches out and pulls the soldering iron from Tony’s hand, “I can do it.”

“Peter,” Tony sighs, reaching to take it back.

“I can do it,” Peter insists and butts in against the workbench, smiling at the older man, “Really, don’t worry about it.”

Tony backs off and leans on the side of the bench to watch him, curling his right hand into a fist. Fortunately, Peter’s been patient with him over the past few months, but it’s been seventy-five days since the snap, he should be able to use his arm by now.

Peter glances at him and their gazes catch.

“Relax,” the kid tells him, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It /is/ that big of a deal,” Tony says, turning away from him and slamming his fist down on the metal surface, feeling it bend under his hand, “I’m a mechanic, this is my life. If I can’t do this-”

“There are plenty of other things you can do, if this is the end of the line here,” Peter says from behind him and Tony tenses when the hand touches his waist, guiding him back around, “You almost died, you’re lucky to be alive. Come on, your physical recovery has been practically unheard of-”

“It’s not enough.”

Peter sighs and takes Tony’s hand in his, “You’ve just gotta be patient.”

“Yeah?” Tony tests, brows narrowing, “And what if they’re always like this?”

“Then you’ll find a way to fix it,” Peter says confidently, smiling, “You always do. You’ll fix it, Mr. Stark. And if you can’t? You’ll find a way around it.”

Tony has a hard time believing it, but the kid’s optimism is a bit contagious.

“Why do you gotta be so damn positive all the time, kid?” he growls in annoyance, “Anyone ever tell you how /dangerous/ hope is?”

Peter shrugs, “No,” he motions back, “Now can you let me do this? You’re slowing down a process here,” he complains, mimicking Tony’s chiding dad-tone perfectly.

“Fine, fine, solder away,” he flits his hands out, “Don’t let me stop you.”

“I don’t plan to.”

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Whumptober - 2. Explosion

1, took this second one a bit literal XP

Tony’s nearly knocked to the ground of his room, FRIDAY sending up an alert in the lab and he bolts out of his room, leaving the door open as he sprints down the hall

Down the flights of stairs and pushing open the lab door, it falls off its hinges and he quickly sees why.

The entire room has been blown open to the elements, rubble and unfinished projects scattered everywhere, the grass around the outside charred like the rest of it.

“Peter?” he says numbly, stepping outside and then running out over the grass when he sees Peter laying out nearly twenty yards away.

He reaches him, dropping to his knees and tentatively reaching out, but not touching him.

“Peter? Hey, kid, hey-” Tony touches his face, cupping his cheeks, “Peter!”

Peter’s eyes snap open and he starts coughing, “Mr. Stark?” he asks, voice small, and then his eyes roll back and he passes out.

Tony tries to wake him a few more times, but Peter’s completely unresponsive.

“FRI, get the med team, I’m bringing him in.”

“On it, boss.”

Whumptober - 3. Delirium

1, 2

Cleaning up after the explosion was easy.

The lab was back up and operating within a couple days and Peter was fully healed long before then.

But the effect it had on Tony was unprecedented. He did his best to keep it from Peter and the rest of the Avengers, drowning his panic in the middle of the night or leaving the room for a drink whenever the topic started steering in that direction.

Eventually, the lack of sleep caught up with him.

He woke at some point after passing out, tucked in his bed with the lights out, still fully dressed.

Once he watched the footage back, he realized that it was Peter that had found him and carried him off to his bedroom about an hour ago. It was a little embarrassing, but he’s been carried by women before, so maybe not really. Or maybe the reason why he felt bad about it was because, between him and his mentee, one of them was the mature one, and it wasn’t Tony.

He left his bedroom that night and grabbed a nice, aged whiskey from the collection with full plans of drowning his sorrows, but it wasn’t long before those silent feet carried Peter into the room at just the wrong time.

Tony peers up over his glass and smiles, leaning hard on the counter, “Hey, Pete.”

“I knew it,” Peter says and Tony can’t tell for sure, but the kid sounds kind of annoyed at him.

He might be a little delirious from sleep deprivation and the alcohol already working its way into his brain by the time Peter joins him, but he can still tell that something is eating at his little spider.

“The only thing that’s eating at me is you.”

Oh, he said that aloud.

Peter lifts his brows, looking unimpressed.

“Mmm, I don’t mind eating at you,” Tony mutters, taking another sip of his glass before he realizes it’s empty. He sets it down to pour more but Peter pulls the whiskey and the glass out of his reach, “Come on, Peter. Stop messing around.”

“What’s your problem?” Peter asks, brows narrowed, “I thought you were sober.”

“And I thought you were /safe/,” Tony says back, reaching out for the bottle, but Peter moves away fast enough that he plants his arm on the counter instead and nearly falls over completely.

Peter puts the bottle back behind him and turns to Tony, “This is about the lab explosion?”

“Peter… how many times do I have to see you die?”

“What?” Peter asks, startled by his change of tone.

Tony moves closer, reaching out and touching his face, “I just want you to be safe, that’s all I want… is that so much to ask? Really?”

“I’m a superhero, you need to respect that.”

“I respect-”

“I can heal, I have super strength,” Peter tells him, speaking too fast for Tony to keep up, “Why is it such a problem with you? Because I’m a kid? I’m not a kid, I haven’t been a kid for a /long/ time, and you can’t hover over my shoulder every hour of the day. I’m not your responsibility.”

Tony frowns, “You /are/ my responsibility.”

“No, I’m not!” Peter raises his voice, “I’m /my/ responsibility. I’ve been doing this since before you came along, and I’d be doing it even now, if you never had. I’m not your son. You can’t keep worrying about me-”

“Oh yes I can-”

“Why?!” Peter throws his arms out, “Why? You don’t act like this with Thor, or with… with Captain America. You don’t act like this with the Scarlet Witch or Natasha or Clint or-”

“Because I’m not in love with them!”

Peter stops and blinks in shock and Tony groans miserably, pushing Peter out of the way and leaving the room.

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Whumptober - 4. Human Shield

1, 2, 3

(Flashback)

“Why don’t we ever get /creative/ enemies?”

Tony lifts a brow, “Are you seriously complaining that they came with real weapons and not… what? Magic?”

“I just mean that I’d like to see them do something different,” Peter says, panting loudly into Tony’s ear as he jumps and leaps around wildly, dodging bullets left and right.

“Sorry to disappoint, kid, but this is it most of the time,” Tony tells him, ducking a spray of fire and returning it.

Peter sighs, “That’s disappointing.”

“Want me to unlock your iron suit?”

“No, no,” Peter says, “I’d like to actually do this /without/ cheating.”

“How is it cheating to use everything you’ve got, kid?” Tony asks rhetorically, “They are. You shouldn’t be ashamed of using nanotech to deflect these kinds of things.”

He says that, but he’s been watching Peter from a distance and the kid is phenomenal at avoiding fire.

“Feels like… cheating because I’m not you,” Peter tells him, pulling a gun from one of the men and shattering it in his fist, slamming it over the thug’s head and knocking him out, “No offense, sir. But everyone has their own thing and that’s not mine.”

“Right, right.”

Peter chuckles, but stops when one of the men pulls out a minigun and aims it directly at him, “Oh shit!”

“Pete, get down!” Tony bursts after him, flinging himself into the line of fire and turning his back to cover Peter, wrapping his arms around him and holding him down to keep him safe.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shouts, reaching up and watching him helplessly as the bullets barrel down, the armor quickly replacing and repairing itself in an attempt to stop any of them from breaking through. It can’t last forever, but it buys him some time to think of an exit plan.

Tony grits his teeth, “It’s okay, just stay put.”

“Yeah, yeah… yes… sir,” Peter nods, his hands on the armor just around the arc reactor as Tony lights up, plates of nanotech separating from him and blasting the gunman.

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Whumptober - 5. Gunpoint

1, 2, 3, 4

(Flash back)

“Mr. Stark!”

Tony grimaces when his neck snaps to the side and he glares up at the man above him, pulling back the hammer and pointing the gun at his head, “You shoot me and you don’t get what you want.”

“I shoot you and I get /everything/ I’ve ever wanted, Anthony,” the man spits at him, “But not before… a little test.”

Tony tenses when Justin turns the gun to Peter and steps slowly over to him.

“Don’t,” Tony warns him, “Don’t-”

“No?” Justin smiles sharply at him, “Don’t like the gun being on someone else?”

Tony shakes his head, “Kill me, leave the kid alone.”

“Or I could just… shoot him and then shoot you after,” Justin suggests, shrugging, “That’s a win-win if you ask me, Anthony.”

“Don’t hurt him, don’t you harm a goddamn hair on his head, I swear-”

“Or you’ll what?”

Tony presses his lips together, breathing calmly through his nose.

Justin reaches out, touching Peter’s jaw with the end of the gun and turning him to look up, “Looks like our friend Anthony is speechless. I gotta say, sport, that’s a first, even for me.”

Peter stares up at Justin, tears in his eyes, “Just take me, leave Mr. Stark alone.”

“My goodness,” Justin gasps and leans down, petting Peter’s hair, “You’re so /loyal/, and to such a scumbag. What did he do to get a pretty little boy like you wrapped so tightly around his finger, hm?”

Peter blushes.

“Leave him alone, Hammer,” Tony growls out, “I’m the one you want, I’ll give you anything, you just let him go-”

“Or is it the other way around?” Justin asks as he stands back upright, eyes filled with sick delight, “This kid got you around /his/ finger, Anthony? Come now, he’s just a child. Don’t… tell me it’s like that.”

“Its nothing like that.”

“No? Looks pretty clear from where I’m standing.”

Peter lets out a low sigh and turns to Tony, “My arms are getting tired, sir. I don’t think he knows anything, he’s just an idiot.”

Tony smiles, “Alright, alright. I think we’ve wasted enough time already.”

“What?” Justin asks in confusion.

Peter flexes his arms, snapping the ropes around his wrists, flipping his entire body up in the seat and slamming the chair against Justin’s head, knocking him out as Peter’s feet land back on the ground.

Tony stares up at him, clearing his throat, “Good job, kid. Mind helping me out here-”

He’s cut off when another man comes into the room, shouting in surprise when he sees that they’re making their escape.

Tony can’t do anything, still tied as the man leaps towards Peter first.

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Whumptober - 6. Dragged away

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

(Flash back, cont’d from last)

Tony gasps when Peter’s thrown into his lap, the both of them flying back and hitting the wall, but not hard enough to break the wood of the chair Tony’s still tied up to.

“Augh, sorry, sir,” Peter groans, gasping and pushing the blade away just in time for it to stick in the wall at Tony’s ear. Peter pulls the man in, kicking him between the legs and twisting his arm as his body presses firmly against Tony, digging him harder into the wall.

It’s a little painful, but Tony’s too turned on by everything that’s happening to care.

Peter reaches down to rip one of the legs off the chair, hitting the man in the head as his large fingers fly forward and wrap around Peter’s throat, slamming him back, the kid’s head just next to Tony’s and close enough to brush their cheeks together.

“I think you’re doing great, kid,” Tony says, smiling, “I’d love to help, but you’re squishing me.”

“Sorry, sir,” Peter pants in his face as he reaches down between them (Tony’s breath catches for a second there), fumbling at Tony’s belt, “Mind if I take this?”

“No, no, go right ahead-” Tony groans as Peter rips the leather from his slacks, “Glad to be of service.”

Peter snaps the belt out, hitting the man in the face and throwing him off enough that he can leap up, feet going over their heads and sticking on the wall. He stands horizontally, toes just above Tony as he pushes the guard back and wards him off, but then a second one joins them.

“Get my hands, would you?” Tony asks, trying to be helpful and leaning forward.

“Right,” Peter reaches down, snapping the ropes and ducking to miss the blade when one of the men tries to stab him, “Oh my god, why does he have a knife?” he asks, tone mocking (there’s probably a reference there, but Tony doesn’t get it), flipping out and kicking the man in the face, “Don’t you guys have /any/ manners?”

Tony groans as his arms are finally back in their rightful place, rolling his shoulders and standing to help Peter.

He grabs the first guy, pulling him around by the collar and slamming an elbow across his jaw, reaching out to grab the knife from where it was embedded in the wall.

Peter guides him along, guiding him back through the hall, “We’re almost out, we just gotta-” before he can finish speaking, something slams into them from an attached hallway and knocks both of them off their feet.

Unfortunately, Peter takes the brunt of it, flying back and hitting the ground hard.

Tony recovers first, lifting his upper half from the ground just in time to block the short sword coming down at him. He hits the man in the stomach, the jaw, and is about to take the blade from his hands when something wraps around his neck and yanks him off his feet.

His back hits the ground hard, air flying out of his lungs as he chokes, hands reaching up.

He looks down to see the lines of dirt his legs are leaving behind, Peter still out cold on the floor as he’s dragged away.

Whumptober - 7. Isolation

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

(Flash back, cont’d from last)

Tony’s been captured before, this isn’t his first rodeo.

In hindsight, it’s actually easier this time. Probably because he’s less of a civilian and has been working with the Avengers for some time now.

And probably also because he’s technically been captured twice at this point.

His biggest concern is for Peter.

Last he saw him, the kid was out cold on the floor and didn’t show any sign of waking up. Did they capture him too? Or did they leave him there?

If it was the latter, Tony tried to assure himself that Peter would be fine.

Peter’s strong and smart and resourceful. If he woke up alone, he would find his way out and he would survive. He didn’t need Tony to make sure of that. He would be fine on his own.

But if he was captured as well…

Best not to think about that.

They leave him alone most of the day, letting him spend his time slowly going mad with all the ‘what if’ scenarios he can think of.

He spends the time pacing the cell they’ve put him in, checking the walls, checking the floor, checking the bed in the corner and anything else he can get his hands on.

The problem always comes down to this.

Without the housing unit, he’s not much. He’s just a human that is too smart for his own good.

If he doesn’t have his armor, even if he still had the arc reactor in his chest, he would not be able to do much at all with it.

He needs the armor.

Meanwhile, Peter without his suit is /everything/ he is in the suit and more.

So all he can do is wait. Wait, and hope. And maybe plot some kind of escape, if they ever let him out of this damn cage.