Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Tony Stark was reckless. It was as much a fact of life as grass being green or breathing being necessary for human survival.

And, speaking of breathing, he really needed to, y'know, do that.

Made difficult by being at the center of a giant, watery-amorphous-mass-creature-villain thing. He did have a plan to rectify that, though, which was good, because being unable to breathe sent him to bad, bad places.

That being said, he was extremely relieved when his unibeam went off and the creature exploded. He could vaguely hear the others yelling in his ear, but his mind was stuck somewhere between here and burning, endless sand.

And Clint saw that, when he arrived where Tony hit the earth, the first one there. Tony's teeth were clenched tight, pupils blown wide, only the barest hint of recognition in brown irises.

"Oh, hey, yeah, help me out here, there's a catch on the back of the suit -" he's rambling, trying to keep the demons away. Clint was slow, steady, as he pushed the release button to allow the armor to fall to the ground. Tony's breathing was shallow and fast, hands grinding into his eyes, surrounded by bits of scorched metal flame.

Clint felt Tony tense and still the moment his arms wrapped around him. He could feel the billionaire's confusion; noticed the genius's arms were hovering somewhere between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

Damn, he hadn't realized Tony was so touch-starved. Even Bruce knew how to respond to a hug or a shoulder to lean on after a fight. Tony, now that he thought about it, was usually the one offering a shoulder, even on missions when they got back and learned, much to their horror, that he was injured worse than any of the rest of them, under the armor, and hadn't thought it was worth complaining about.

That had been an interesting Mission, with a capital M.

And Tony's mind was just...blank, except for a running commentary of crap, safe now, breathe, we're good, we trust this person, I'm safe, we're home safe and crap, what did I do, is this a hug, oh the horror, what the heck, what did I do to deserve this, no, really, I'm a horrible human being.

Clint pulled back and rolled his eyes at the half-confused, a bit reassured (even though the billionaire was trying to hide it), and mildly lost expression on Tony's face. "It's called a hug. You with me, man?"

"Yeah - yeah - I - um -"

Clint took a moment to revel in the novelty of Tony Stark without words, glancing over his shoulder towards Bruce, who was waiting to come over. Thinking about it though, he was a little worried; he definitely shouldn't be able to shortcircuit Tony's brain with a hug, seriously. He gently touched Tony's bloody forehead and raised an eyebrow. "Let's get you to medical." Tony's eyes were here now, but he still had a lost look on his face that made him look like a child in need of comfort. Clint had never, ever seen a look like that on Tony's face.

He understood when the masks started to fall back in place, surprised when the 'genius billionaire playboy philanthropist' hid what was so purely Tony. It made him want to cry, a little, realizing that Tony still didn't completely trust them, still wore masks, but that even if he didn't, they'd all still look at him expecting to see Anthony Edward Stark, son of Howard Stark; and the vulnerable glimpse he'd just gotten of the man was enough for him to realize that he couldn't handle all the attacks and betrayals and media scorn without attacking back, without a mask to blame the guilt on.

"I am not leaving my armor here for anyone to grab," he said. "It has to get back to my workshop, not to SHIELD or the army or a villain. Do you know what that suit could do in the wrong hands, it is the most advanced weapon in the world -" Clint let him ramble for a minute, recognizing the defense mechanism as such now, rather than just mindless lashing out.

"Okay."

Tony blinked, mask slipping a bit. "What?"

"It's your suit. We'll have to wait for the others, though, which shouldn't be long since I can't hear the Hulk anymore. No way can the two of us carry it all, and then you will let Bruce take care of those broken or cracked ribs."

"How -"

"I'm Hawkeye." he smirked. "I see everything."

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Bruce had watched Clint interact with Tony after the battle. He had been a little more patient, a little less snarky.

Bruce assumed the man had finally noticed that Tony wore more than just a flashy gold-titanium suit, more than just one kind of armor. Spending more time with Tony than any of the others, he had gotten to know the man fairly well, even occasionally getting glimpses under the masks, especially in the shop and the labs.

Tony always gave hugs and prods and arms-over-the-shoulder to everyone else, but gave off 'don't touch me' vibes like no one he'd ever met.

He came across Tony trying to open a bottle of vodka in the workshop at two in the morning a couple weeks later, hands shaking so hard it was amazing he didn't drop the bottle. Tony barely even seemed to register Bruce's presence, his eyes far away.

Tony knew he was there, though. He almost panicked; he didn't want anyone to see him like this, vulnerable, silky words and a high-pitched whine echoing around his head and a dark hole haunting him.

Bruce gently took the bottle, set it on the table, and wrapped his arms around the lonely genius.

Tony froze in his hold, but the trembling eased and his eyes returned to the present.

And Tony's mind was all like, crap, safe, we're okay, safe, and the other half was all what the heck, why is he helping me of all people, what the -

Bruce released him, and Tony almost wanted to cry until the other genius poked him towards the stairs. "I think you've been alone down here long enough."

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Tony woke up with an aching head and no memory of how he had gotten here. Not unusual, but, well, he hadn't been drinking, so he was going to assume this was a really bad sign.

Naturally, he pretended he was still asleep. He'd had a lot of practice with that. Like he said, billionaire genius - stick child on the end and every criminal ever was after you. Make it adult and multiply the genius and every super criminal ever was after you.

Tony focused. How had he gotten here and who was holding him captive?

That was ineffectual, the last thing he remembered was falling asleep in the back of the limo on his way to the airport. The Avengers probably wouldn't even realize he was missing, since Happy hadn't been his driver.

The driver.

Damn.

Screw that, he'd gotten himself out before he could do it again.

For the moment he was alone. The room smelled of citrus chemicals, like lysol. Footsteps suggested thin walls and door. Cold metal on each wrist had to be cuffs or chains of some kind.

Now he had to open his eyes.

The lighting was dim, but clear, and he discovered he was in a small white room and his hands were free. Who were these idiots? They'd left his watch and bracelet on him, and from the feel of it, the lockpicks in his shoes and the dagger in the suit coat. Of course, they probably didn't know that the watch did more than tell time or that the bracelet was the most advanced hacking device in the world and a direct link to Jarvis once their network was hacked, but still. They had underestimated him so very badly.

Plus the camera was obvious, and he could build a tazer with that in his sleep.

And he was pissed.

Clint had begun laughing when they arrived, and Thor was sorely tempted to join in. The alarms blaring and panic and overall chaos had to be the work of their missing Shieldbrother, Stark. "They have underestimated the Man of Iron most grievously," he agreed.

"Still, why did we lose contact?" Steve asked. "Jarvis lost him. I didn't know that was possible."

"The device he used to hack and uplink either got destroyed or separated from him." Natasha replied. "My guess is that he had to leave it and move."

"A most astute assumption, Lady Warrior." Thor had learned that much like Sif, Natasha grew annoyed if referred to as a Lady. "With such chaos, his location would not go unnoticed for long."

"Well, let's go get him, then. Bruce, stay you unless we need the Hulk - Tony will probably need medical assistance. Thor, Natasha, Clint and I will try to find him."

They were all agreeable with this plan, and so they continued onward. Thor soon began coming across signs of Tony's presence; moaning agents on the floor, a room full of computers flashing with the lyrics to 'I Am Iron Man' and playing it over the speakers, Tony's dagger in a man's back. The unique dagger, which Tony had explained was the second largest chunk of vibranium in the world (Steve's shield was first), was ancient, and inscribed with 'Железо во нашите коски, челик во нашиот ум, злато во нашето срце' over and over, wrapping around the hilt in spirals. Tony had never shared the meaning of the battle cry, nor spoken it that the Allspeak would translate, just that it was in a Midgard language called 'Macedonian'.

Thor forged on, taking the dagger, hurrying now; his shieldbrother was likely unarmed, and judging by the blood on the path he followed, injured. He heard a gasp and a gunshot ahead somewhere, and sped his pace, taking no heed of the dead and dying around him.

The sight before him had not been what he was expecting, that much was certain.

Tony stood, gun lax in his hand, before the last living man in the room, who advanced, posture menacing. Tony actually flinched, one red hand pressed to his side, and Thor had never seen such a reaction from the man of Iron, who had always been of great courage.

"Tony, Tony, did you really think you could get away from me again?" the large man sighed.

"I - why -"

"You know very well why."

Something burned, hot and furious under Thor's skin. Never had he seen such blatant betrayal, yet the look in Anthony's eyes was resigned, and determined, and not at all surprised. "You nearly broke me once. You will not do so again." And the gun suddenly rose, and the man fell with a bullet in his brain.

Tony's eyes were far distant, seeing some other memory of betrayal (of that, there was no doubt) that Thor did not know, looking much as many warriors of Asgard did after a particularly difficult battle; as though all the life had left them.

"Brother Stark," he said, voice low. He may not belong here, yet he knew as well as any soldier to be slow, and steady, and to avoid threatening postures around men so lost.

The gun came up. "You know me, brother Stark. Come back, my friend, the battle is over." The gun went down, Tony staring at him.

"You - you came?" Tony sounded shocked. It was almost a statement, a hesitant pleading from a child. Thor was surprised; he had thought the man all steel and iron and controlled rage - however, he had been raised to be king, and was not entirely shocked to see that such a powerful, dangerous man had equally powerful masks to hide his true self from a bitter world.

"Of course." he wrapped his arms around Tony in a gesture he had often offered fellow warriors on distant, icy battlefields.

Tony froze in his hold, oddly, as though he did not know how to react or what was happening, but although he did not draw closer, he did not draw away, and tension eased out of his shoulders.

Crap, safe now, breathe, safe. Not sure what the heck is happening, not like I deserve this, but crap, safe, who cares.

Staggering suddenly, Tony's arms came up to grip at Thor's cape to keep himself upon his feet. Tension reentered his frame, as though he were afraid he had taken a liberty not offered him. This was strange; the man of Iron often took such liberties.

But not with the Avengers, many of whom he still did not call by their first name, or Pepper or Rhodey. Not with those who mattered. Thor had not realized he was a member of that group. He had not truly recognized that Tony held them in such high regard, that he should care if he offended.

"Sorry."

"No apology is necessary, Brother Stark. I offered the hug first, did I not? And you are injured. Come, let us go and meet with the good Doctor, so he may be sure your injuries are none too serious." Life had returned to Tony's eyes, and Thor held out the dagger.

"Thank you. It was my mother's." he said, as Thor supported his wounded comrade away from the chaos.

"A worthy weapon."

"It says, 'Iron in our bones, Steel in our mind, Gold in our heart'" Tony said bitterly. "It's vaguely prophetic, don't you think?"

Thor wisely chose not to comment, assuming that it meant to Tony different things from what it meant to him.

Heart of gold, a will of iron, and a steely genius that stumped the world's most renowned telepath indeed.

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Tony and Steve did not get along. They didn't. Both had far too many memories connected to the other that they couldn't face.

Today, though, Steve was absolutely boiling with rage. It was the day of the anniversary of Howard's death, for God's sake, and Tony refused to go to the grave or even reminisce with him. Steve was furious.

Until he realized that far from being full of grief, or memory, or sorrow, or remorse, or even a hint of 'well, that sucks' they were full of relief, which made so little sense to him that he stormed away, deciding it was a lost cause. Tony was an unfeeling bastard.

Which was why he was so confused that Clint and Bruce had him cornered at the moment, glaring, arms folded across their chests and something green in both their eyes. A little more literally in Bruce's case, but still. That was very green.

"What? It's like he doesn't even care that today's the day his father -"

"And? I didn't care when my dad died either." Clint snapped. "You did read his big file, right? Not the little one?"

"There's a bigger one?"

"Me neither." Bruce snorted, ignoring the question. "You may be the only Avenger who actually had a decent childhood, you do realize that, right?"

"Howard was a good man, a good soldier!" Steve snapped.

"And that is the only reason Tony didn't tell you where to shove it. Have you even noticed that the man wears more masks than Natasha? He never shows just Tony to anyone unless he isn't thinking about it, down in the labs, or with Pepper. He's always keeping up the facade of 'Tony freaking Stark'. The closest any of us get to the real Tony is Iron Man. He's been hiding himself since he was old enough to speak, and he was speaking young." And that was probably the most he'd ever heard Bruce say at one time. Clint, on the other hand, was worryingly silent, sharp eyes full of something akin to murder.

"But why the heck would he be relieved -"

"That his dad died?" Clint finally spoke. "Well, I was relieved that mine wasn't around to make sure I was black and blue so often."

"And I was relieved that mine wasn't around to beat me down with words I've never quite managed to stop believing. My dear best friend, Tony? I'm pretty sure he got both of the above. The Howard you knew was gone long before Tony came along, and I'm equally certain that most of the words were comparisons to a missing super-soldier. It's in his file."

Steve felt something like a chill run through him as he thought about his arguments with the billionaire. Tony had never struck first; he joked and snarked, but never anything that really warranted an attack from Steve. He kept comparing Tony to Howard, and blaming him for not being good enough at being his father for him. And, apparently, Howard had spent most of his life comparing him to Steve. Tony had fought back in defense, like a wounded animal who didn't know how to accept care.

"Get your crap together, Cap." Clint sneered, before storming away. Bruce joined him, tossing a dark look over his shoulder at the Captain.

Steve stared at the punching bag for a long time.

It had been a tough fight; they'd all taken a few hits that it would have been better to avoid. Steve was leaning on Iron Man, a little surprised by the man's quiet. Clint was leaning on the other side, walking with a wrenched knee. Thor supported Natasha and Bruce, both aching and exhausted. Tony wasn't saying a word.

"You okay?" Steve asked. He'd been trying to understand and be more patient with the eccentric man, and the silence was disquieting.

"Fine. I am wearing the most high-tech genius armor in the world, you know, and it's a little hard to penetrate."

"You're quieter than usual. It's kinda worrying."

"It's the date. It's got bad memories linked to it." Tony said, more openly than usual, before falling silent once more. Steve didn't miss the way Natasha and Clint's faces paled, or the way Coulson pulled the other man aside for a minute before allowing the billionaire to go home without the standard medical check.

"Three years ago today, Tony killed the man he considered to be his father." Natasha said, seeing his confusion. "One Obadiah Stane."

"Why?"

"Because Obadiah was the one who paid for the terrorists to take him in Afghanistan, and when Tony got back, he took the arc reactor and left him to die. And then he threatened Pepper."

Well. That certainly explained some of Tony's trust issues. Steve frowned at the ground. Just what else had he missed when Fury neglected to give him Tony's paper file? He'd have to ask for it later.

The masks were firmly back in place by the time the others got back to the Tower. Tony was halfway to being drunk, and was watching, of all things, Lilo & Stitch. He grinned at them, all teeth, daring one of them to say something.

Steve stepped forward when he saw the expression, so similar to that of Bucky's when he was in pain, and wrapped his arms around the smaller man. Tony froze in his hold, shock written across his face. His hands came up to rest on Steve's sides, but he didn't strengthen his grip, or relax under his touch.

Steve wondered how he had missed the sudden vulnerability he could feel for so long.

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Natasha knew about Tony's masks; she just hadn't ever really cared enough to try and get past them. She'd let her own down when he'd let his down (If this was the last birthday you were ever going to celebrate, how would you spend it? I'd do whatever I wanted to do, with whoever I wanted to do it with). She hadn't realized just how damaged the man beneath the masks was.

Narcissistic was perhaps the worst assumption she had ever made. Tony hated himself with a burning passion that she was hard-pressed to understand, and flaunted his 'arrogance' so that everyone else would hate him too. He fought like those trying to prove themselves, though he had done so a dozen times over, and he snarked and joked like his life depended on it, like if he let anyone get a word in edgewise he'd just end up a little more broken.

It almost made her wish she could still cry once she knew him, once she saw just how good of a man he was under the mask. Once she realized that Tony Stark was the mask and Iron Man the person. Especially when she realized they'd all left him to handle all the PR side of things.

People were annoyed or angry with the Avengers? It was Tony who took the blame and smoothed things over. Someone wanted to know the identity of Hawkeye or the Black Widow? He made up outrageous stories, a different one every time they asked. Someone curious as to how the Captain was adjusting? He said something along the lines of 'well, how would you feel if you woke up seventy years from now with no memory of anything that happened in between'? Army came to try and drag the Hulk back to his kennels? Well, screw that, SI had just gotten legislation allowing them to deal with all issues related to the super-soldier serum, and besides, Bruce was obviously not green right now, so screw off.

People said Iron Man was a liability, he laughed, but didn't ever deny it. In fact, he usually made some witty quip about being kept around for the computer or his toys or his brain, and thus he was allowed to play with the heroes, see how that works?

Their whole team was starting to get zealously overprotective, and it worried her that she let herself care this much. It had been a long time since she'd let anyone worm their way so deeply into her heart, besides Phil and Clint, who, ironically, she was pretty sure had a major crush or at least a budding bromance with the genius in question.

When she came across him staring unseeingly at the tv at two am, it seemed only natural that she pull him down so his head was on her lap while she watched Tangled. He had stilled, like she might have when she first came to SHIELD, like he was wary of an enemy or a trick, staring at her. She ignored him, running a hand through his hair as she focused on Flynn Ryder, who was far cuter than any animated character had any right to be.

Tony slowly eased, until his breathing was even and his eyes had drifted closed, opening more and more sporadically. Clint came in looking anxious, and raised an eyebrow at her. She shrugged back, a small smile on her lips.

It wasn't technically a hug, but then, she'd never really been one for quite that much physical contact off the job.

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When Phil finally got back to the mansion, he went looking for Tony. It had been a few days in SHIELD medical, but nothing permanent or even painful, just frustrating.

Coulson had almost forgotten Tony's aversion to taking things people handed to him; Tony took things from him without complaint now. When he'd come across Tony blatantly refusing to take paperwork from the newest not-Pepper, he'd rolled his eyes and grabbed the folder.

He didn't really remember much of the immediate aftermath, just Tony yelling something about a paralytic and gentle, rough-skinned hands.

He was willing to bet that Tony was beating himself up about it. Steve probably was too, but it was possible the Captain was starting to see through the masks. Tony was essentially a big ball of self-loathing and redemption in progress. He'd blame himself for the death of the homeless man down the street if they let him. It wasn't Tony's fault that he was a target and Coulson had come between him and a potential attacker. Coulson was happier about that than he probably should be. The team would burn down the world if it would save one of their own.

Sure enough, he found the engineer sitting on the floor with his head between his knees in the workshop, a bottle unopened next to him. Coulson was impressed; he hadn't realized Tony had stopped drinking.

"We asked him to stop, last time." He'd gotten alcohol poisoning last time. Clint dropped lightly to the floor outside the glass doors. "He said he'd do his damn best."

"So it's as good as done. How guilty is he?"

"He's been in there since you got hit." Clint replied. "I did get him to let me in with food a couple times though, so he at least recognizes that his guilt is probably silly. He just can't help it."

"That's because he's an idiot." Coulson sighed. "Let me in, Jarvis."

The door slid soundlessly open and Coulson walked over, sinking to one knee in front of Tony.

Tony didn't look up.

"It's not your fault." Coulson said, leaning forward. Tony finally looked up, sucking in a long, shuddering breath, opening his mouth to protest. Coulson leaned the rest of the way, pressing his forehead to the billionaire's and putting a hand on his shoulder. "It. Is not. Your. Fault." He repeated. "I'd gladly take things to hand you any day, if it means you still trust me."

(Don't deserve this, want it so much, shouldn't trust, can't help it, safe, crap, safe)

"You I trust." Tony said so softly Coulson almost didn't hear, even as close as he was. "It's the rest of the world that's determined to destroy me."

"And I will never blame you for the world's mistakes. So stop blaming yourself."

They sat there for a long time, forehead to forehead, Tony's hands hesitantly coming up to hold onto Coulson's suit, light as a feather.

"Go show everyone that you're alive." Especially Clint. Biggest freaking bromance...

Tony went without question, taking the coffee Coulson handed him. He'd never realized, let alone appreciated, the trust he was given with such a simple gesture before. It was amazing Tony still could trust, after all the time he spent alone.

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Hulk see Tinman fall.

Hulk catch Tinman. Stupid Tony fall too much. Hulk hear funny sounds inside metal.

Tony was trying to contain his sobbing, because although Jarvis had turned off the comms so no one would know, he still had teammates with enhanced hearing. No one needed to know just how badly he was hurting and confused right now, it would be a distraction.

Hulk stared at Tinman. "Tony sad?" He asked, a little confused.

He's crying. Little-smart-person-Bruce-who-needs-protected-inside is telling him things. He needs a hug, a really careful hug. We need to keep him safe, like the others. Pictures of the Starman and Agent and Pointysticks-birdman and Prettyscarylady and Pepper and Thunderhead flashed through his head.

Hulk scooped Tony-Tinman up, careful like Bruce said, and hugged him.

Tony's world didn't make sense before, but now it was a freaking abstract. He was getting hugged by the Hulk, before being gently set back on his feet.

"Smash now."

He wasn't crying now. How odd. It still hurt a little. But it was like a balm had swept over the hole Pepper had left in his heart. She was right, they didn't really work as lovers, not without taking a break first to figure out how to face the relationship aspect of their relationship and maybe not even then, but it still ached.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's smash now."

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winteronyxnight said: Ooo that's a cool quote on tonys knife, where did you get it from?

The knife in question is mentioned in Thor’s chapter (3) and the quote reads: “Iron in our bones, Steel in our mind, Gold in our heart.”

The short answer is, I made it up myself. BUT, the long answer is very detailed and I want to share with all you lovely people.

So we’re going to do this in parts.

PART 1: “Iron in our bones.”

In many, many, many of the fics I read, The Stark family has a motto. Stark men are made of iron. I’ve always wondered if that made Stark women titanium, as some fics have suggested, but that’s not really the point right now. This is where I got this part of the quote, and also I love the irony of Iron Man when it’s considered in conjunction with this quote.

Tony sees this as a bitter truth; he was forced to carry iron (cough gold titanium alloy cough) in his bones, just as Howard always demanded of him. Thor, on the other hand, sees this as a mark of strength. Tony took a bitter truth and rose from its ashes. He truly has iron in his bones.

PART 2: “Steel in our mind.”

This part of the quote comes from the saying, “a mind like a steel trap.” For those of you from other parts of the world, this idiom is often used to describe someone wickedly smart, and incredibly dangerous because of it. Steel traps are brutal and vicious, and they destroy what they catch.

Tony Stark, as Thor perceives him, is of steely mind; he is strong, reliable, and fierce - but if you do not respect his fierceness, he will destroy you in an instant with little more than a passing thought. Tony, on the other hand, connects this back to his love of technology and his ignorance of everything else. He has a mind of steel, of weapons, of death. He doesn’t see the good side to this.

PART 3: “Gold in our heart.”

This comes from the saying “a heart of gold.” This idiom is often used to describe someone very kind, soft, loyal - the best sort of friend. It also is used when describing people who are very generous. They have a heart like gold, in that it is valuable and gentle as gold is a relatively soft metal.

Tony, though, perceives this very differently. He is always accused of being the man without a heart; to him, though, being a man with gold in his heart is worse. For a long time, he cared more about money than anything, and this is a vicious reminder of that, to him. Thor, of course, perceives it in the spirit it was meant; Tony has a heart of gold. He is generous, kind, and does whatever he can to help everyone he can. Tony is more valuable to Thor and his other friends than all the money in his bank account.

PART 4: Where the knife came from.

This goes a bit beyond the question, but I have a headcanon to share. I’m not sure if it’s canon, but for some reason I’ve always thought of Maria Stark as being of different ethnicity - usually, either Italian or Macedonian (don’t ask me why, I have no convincing reasons). Before she came to America, to study (music, in my headcanon again), Maria lived in a small town - small enough to have a local witch. Except, this being the Marvel multiverse, this is an ACTUAL. WITCH. Said witch, when she heard Maria was leaving for the states, gifted her the knife. Maria never knew why, or what the quote was supposed to mean. The witch, who could sometimes get glimpses of the future, made the knife specifically because she knew Tony would receive it - to be a reminder so he would not return to his mistakes, and, hopefully, one day, a reminder of the good, rather than the bad.

Thank you for joining me for this entire rant! I hope you enjoyed your bonus chapter. :)