starkingenuity | (no subject)

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"You have my name. On your arm."

Tony hadn't been agonizing about it but maybe he had just a little and maybe he had driven down to DC to tell Steve Rogers what he was pretty sure that the blond already knew. A plane or the Iron Man armor would have taken much less time, but Tony needed to make frequent stops along the way so that he could try to get himself to turn back and just leave it.

It didn't always happen, the mythical arm writing, but that's what made it to special. Every teenager pretty much spent their years before college hoping for a name to turn up one day. Less than ten percent ever did, and that number was dwindling seeing as how people didn't really care if they had a name on their arm or not. If their parents and religion weren't going to tell them what to do, weird indelible writing appearing on their bodies was not either.

The thing one, Tony did not have a name on his arm. There was no corroborating Steve Rogers written in interesting patterns on his skin. There was nothing. Tony hadn't been a lucky one.

But he'd seen, accidentally, on Steve well after they had first met and it was pretty obvious that yeah, Steve would know that he'd just met Anthony E. Stark, fought beside him in New York, nearly watched him die, and then just moved away to DC after as if nothing at all happened.

Now he wanted answers,

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He sighed heavily, because Tony wasn't getting it. Reading his file, he knew the man preferred working alone and that he was bad at teamwork, but this was another step entirely. Actively refusing help when he was injured was just stupid.

"I'll try not to," he promised. "What's the plan?"

The real trouble was this wasn't Rhodey. Or even Romanoff. This was Steve Rogers, the man with his name on his arm, who had spurned him. Technically Tony went along with it, but that was simply because he'd had no other choice to save face.

"There's a problem with more than just the terrorist attack. People are blowing up. Ex-soldiers. That's why they attacked me. They got Happy in crossfire and..."

See, Tony did have a heart.

"I have to stop them. I was hoping to get the Mk 42 up before I went on surveillance...but I think I need to lay down for a little bit."

"Suicide bombers?" he asked, forehead creasing again, because those were never good news and he didn't want to have to deal with people charging him so they could blow up in his face. He didn't know Happy but if someone managed to get that reaction of Tony then the man must be close to him.

"That's probably a good idea. I'd offer to help with this--" he gestured toward the suit. "But I think I would make it worse."

"I don't know. It doesn't feel right. They...sort of self ignite. It's weird." Tony carefully laid his tools down and slumped on the couch with his armor. He even laid his head against it's chest, as if it were alive.

No finer portrait could ever be painted of Tony Stark and his perpetual loneliness than watching him cuddle his own creation.

"Just until morning, Cap. Then we'll find them."

That did sound weird. It also didn't sound normal and somewhere capable of turning a human into a living bomb was dangerous. Sure it might be directed at Tony now but who would be next? What if they managed to get into high ranking political meetings? It was bad news.

It would have been warmer if he curled up against a living and breathing person, but Steve wasn't going to offer. It blurred too many lines and seemed contradictory. "Try to get some sleep."

He would find somewhere to curl up. It wasn't going to be comfortable but he had worse.

Tony didn't get much sleep. He never got much sleep. The point he had about holding onto the armor wasn't so much for comfort as for rigidity. It helped him to keep from slouching. And the cold was good on his ribs.

The trouble wasn't his choice of cuddle partners. It was his nightmares.

Tony yelped awake in less than an hour and held his head in one hand before he went back to work, gazing at Steve curled up in the corner.

He draped the blanket that he had been using over the soldier and finished up what he was doing. He'd be ready by morning to spy on the Mandarin.

At least that was his goal.

The corner was about as comfortable as he expected it to be but he knew when he needed sleep and they were probably going to have a long day ahead of them tomorrow. He shifted slightly at the weight of the blanket over him but surprisingly didn't wake at the sound of Tony's nightmare.

It'll be a few hours before he finally was stiff enough to wake up himself and he immediately frowned, "You're supposed to be asleep."

"I don't sleep," Tony replied. He had taped up his ribs with stuff he found in Steve's bike packs and put a few butterfly bandages over his face. He took some pain killers and was more than ready to go now.

"I don't have anything in for breakfast. Sorry Cap. But how about we break into some terrorist base and figure out why soldiers are blowing up?"

"That's not good for you," Steve observed, because even if he needed less sleep than most people, even the super soldier required some kind of shut eye. He wasn't as bad off as some people but Tony was generally a normal guy. Sleep deprivation caused all kinds of bad judgement.

"I'll be alright," he said, tilting his head at Tony, before nodding. "If you think you're up for it."

"Not much I do is good for me." He grinned at that. It was true. A person could become as much as 16 times more impaired from lack of sleep. They could become paranoid. They could become moody and angry.

Tony was generally all those things. Luckily he functioned far higher than most people so he was still doing all right even without sleep.

Tony pushed his hair back and slipped on a ball cap before he hitched up his hoodie. "You're the one in the uniform. There are some overalls and a coat that should fit you over there. Funny. The little name tag actually says Steve on it."

His grin was manic but he was ready to go. Even if he more or less limped his way towards where he thought the base might be. He was glad Steve was with him. He just would never tell him that.

He glanced over at the normal clothing and frowned. He didn't know how he felt about borrowing a random person's clothes out of their backyard toolshed. Did they even know that Tony is in here? He doubts it.

"Why are we sneaking in?" he asks as he tugs off his boots and tests to see whether the overalls will fit over his uniform. He might get warm but he has a feeling the protection will be a good thing. "Why not take the suit and go in the front door."

Tony arched an eyebrow at Steve. "So you don't want to play spy?" Well the direct approach was typically better.

Tony snapped the reactor back into the armor and watched the eyes glow before he exhaled slowly and gestures towards the suit. This was probably going to hurt, considering the damage he was in, but there wasn't too much to do about that.

Steve was in for a treat. He would get to see something truly remarkable as Tony controlled his suit with his mind. More or less.

"It's not my usual approach," he responded with a shrug. He wore a brightly colored uniform and shield in the color of the American flag. It didn't exactly scream subtle. Of course, many of the missions he was sent on were assaults. Could he be quiet? Sure. "Depending on the layout of the area, it's probably the better move, especially since what we're looking for will be heavily guarded."

Steve looked surprised and impressed, "you can control the suit remotely?"

Tony waited until the armor had attached itself to him. He stumbled back just a little bit he managed not to topple over and he caught the face plate before it could bonk him in the phase. "Electromagnets. Controlled by my reactor. Controlled by implants I've placed subdermally at key nervous point."

He sighed in relieve as the suit compressed the air around his torso, keeping his ribs from jostling.

"I'll have to carry you. Ready?"

"You put implants into yourself to control your suit," Steve summarizes with a frown. It was Tony's body but he wasn't sure how he felt about that one. "Is that safe?"

Says the man that was injected with an experimental drug to make him a super soldier. Difference being, Steve was already sick.

"Hiding the shield is going to be difficult."

"It's probably not safe. No. I disabled safety protocols." Maybe he shouldn't have told Steve that but. Well too late now. He hated how honest he was with the blond.

He hated a lot of things about this that he didn't really hate at all.

"Listen. I'm riding in in a gold and fire engine red steed. Your shield? That's the least of our worries."

His frown deepened, because he didn't like the sound of that either. There were a reason that safety protocols were in place. It wasn't just for fun. He swung his shield up onto his arm. He really wasn't sure what the best way to hold it was going to be.

"True," he said with a nod. "What's the easy way for you to carry me?"

"Just don't block my palms," Tony said, striding fluidly towards the door. That he could move at all in that thing was pretty remarkable. He waited outside for Steve and grabbed him tightly around the waist. "Ready? I go fast so you hold on!"

Well, those instructions were easy enough. Steve didn't think that would be a problem. He was capable of holding on pretty tight. It was probably a good thing he wasn't afraid of heights.

"Don't do anything too crazy," he said as he stepped up to wrap his arm around the armor. "I don't want dropped."

"I wouldn't drop you. And if I did, I would catch you again." He cursed inwardly for saying that and then took off, heading towards where he was certain the facility and the Mandarin would be. Everything hurt, every part of him, but he pulled through it, even if the landing wasn't exactly graceful. There was a blinding hot pain against his chest, but he managed not to let Steve tumble too badly even as he skidded to a halt against some girders.

Well, that was good to know. Steve didn't even consider how sappy that sounded so Tony was safe there. He wasn't as thrilled about zooming across the country with nothing but his grip keeping him in the air. He hid his face and eyes against the armor so they didn't dry out or get hit by anything.

The landing was not at all as neat and tidy as he typically saw from Tony and that was definitely concerning.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He demanded.

Tony felt like he was going to throw up but he didn't say a word. He left his face plate down and scanned the edge of the building. "There are massive heat signatures inside," Tony noted, his voice tight. "This must be the right place. Let's try to go slow and quiet."

So said the man kicking down the door. Literally. The alarms went off and Tony laughed.

"Stay out of my range. I'm not so good up close and personal or in tight quarters."

Slow and quiet. Sure. Did Tony even know what the meant? As Steve followed him through the door, he assumed that he really didn't grasp the concept.

"I'll do my best," he assured the man and he checked his grip on his shield, then darted to the side, keeping stuff between him and the armed guards. Hopefully, Tony would draw all of their attention and he could pick them off while they were distracted.

Distracted? Oh, Tony could do that. They never seemed to get along, but they fought as if they were meant to always be this way. A kick here, blast there, round house somersault? They moved without having to think.

Luckily, Tony was not currently doing much thinking. "I'll go left and you go right. We can clear more ground," he told Steve and didn't wait for a confirmation. Cap might be their leader when they were Avenging...but this was personal.

It was easy to move with Tony. To read his movements and predict them so that they could systematically take care of guards. It was easier than it should be considering the difference in their fighting styles and they really didn't get a lot of chance to fight alongside one another.

"Be careful," Steve acknowledged, accepting the order and heading to the right. The man was in a full suit of armor so he could only hope that he would be alright even with his injuries. Steve told himself he didn't worry because of the name on his arm but rather because they were teammates. He would be concerned about anyone on his team. A name didn't mean anything.