Chapter Text
"I am inevitable."
Tony Stark glared up at Thanos, his eyes narrowed, armoured hand poised and ready to snap. "And I- am- Iron Man," Tony growled in response, before snapping his fingers.
The next thing the inventor remembered is pain. Scalding hot pain. And then said pain quickly becoming more and more dull as the life faded from his body. Then… nothing. For long time there, there was nothing. No light, not even darkness- just nothing. The next thing Tony recalled is his body tearing through trees and shrubbery violently as his suit's thrusters sputtered and left him flying through the air, completely out of control- before crashing into a hillside, skidding across the dirt and rocks before coming to a not-so-smooth stop as his body smacked the side of a large boulder. Tony struggled to get back up onto his feet, but his legs gave out from underneath him and he instead tumbled into a nearby shrub. Disoriented, and vision blurred to the point where he might as well be blind, Tony struggled to claw his way out of the brush. The branched were tangled about his limbs, effectively inhibiting his movements.
The inventor whipped his arm left and right, trying to tear it free. The branches snapped, and his arm came loose- at the same time, he was tipped forward from the momentum as he flailed about blindly, and wound up tumbling down the side of the hill.
The side of Tony's head smacked a rock on the way down, and everything faded to black.
Sometime later, Tony jerked awake, eyes wide and body tense. He still had his armour on, thank god- and his eyesight was more or less clear again, which was definitely a plus in his book. His head was pounding, and it felt as if someone had it it over and over again with a giant hammer. But at the moment, there was little Tony could do about it- save for trying to ignore it. As he slowly rose into a sitting position, he realised that he had apparently been lying on someone's couch. "How…?" The inventor's heart stopped as he did a double take and stared at the couch again. He knew this couch. Tony lifted his gaze and let it trail across the room. He knew this living room too. A familiar tuxedo feline trotted into said room, purring softly, her tail swishing left and right as she looked up at the human with bright yellow and blue eyes. Tony reached down and settled his hand on the cat's back, gently stroking her fur. The kitty turned her head and gave his metal gauntlet a lick, then looked back up at him with a befuddled expression.
"Hmm, she usually doesn't take to strangers so easily," a nearby, terribly familiar voice observed.
Tony was up on his feet in a flash, whirling around to face the source. His armoured gauntlet was raised, the palm's repulsor node charging up quickly with a rising hum. In that split-second, he recognised the face standing before him, and in a flash he lowered his hand, shutting off the node before it could blast anything. "Howard Stark," he said quietly.
"'Howard Potts,'" Howard addressed back, his tone skeptical. "I honestly didn't think I'd see you again- let alone here… or wearing… whatever it is you're wearing."
"I'm dead, aren't I?" Tony asked, looking away and instead taking in the room a second time. "Helheim looks a lot better than what Thor described," the inventor muttered to himself.
"'Helheim?'" Howard repeated incredulously. "'Thor?' Hmm, you must've hit your head a lot harder than I thought."
"Sooo, this isn't Helheim then?"
Howard looked at Tony with an unreadable expression. "No... hmm, maybe I should've taken you to the hospital like Maria suggested." Tony's body stiffened at the mention of Maria. His mother. Or was she his mother?? After his encounter with Howard when he went to steal the Tesseract, he wasn't so sure. "Ten years..." Howard muttered. "And you don't look like you've aged a day."
That's because I haven't, Tony thought. Then again, he didn't know how long exactly he had been unconscious. But if I'm not dead... he said ten years... but... that's- I should be dead. And that was the problem- he wasn't dead. "What year is it?" the inventor asked. He knew the answer. He just wanted Howard to confirm it.
"Nineteen-eighty," Howard told him.
I am inevitable.
And I- am- Iron Man.
"This is wrong," Tony said instantly, finally meeting Howard's currently stony gaze. "I shouldn't be here." His mouth felt dry as the words rolled off his tongue. But it was the truth, right? He wasn't supposed to be here. "I should be dead." Tony felt a surge of panic and lifted his right hand, turning it around to see the back. The metal was gnarled and twisted, blackened from the massive amount of energy it had been exposed to by the Infinity Stones. On the back were six blackened lumps, mere shells of what they once were.
But Tony could still feel a small remnant of the energy they once housed tingling in his body.
Or maybe he was just dehydrated. "Why didn't you just take me to SHIELD?" Tony asked, once more looking at Howard. "Dump me in their laps, and let them deal with me as they saw fit- and never let me cross your mind again?"
"It felt... wrong," Howard explained, and for the first time ever, Tony saw an almost... vulnerable expression on the other man's face. "And besides, Maria wouldn't let me. I think... I think she felt it too." The inventor's face hardened once more. "Who are you? Really?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Tony scoffed, turning away and starting to fiddle with his armour. "Uhmm, can you give me a little privacy- just for a minute or two? I really need to get this off-" He had to get it off- for one thing, he was hot and sweaty as heck, and two, he needed to find a safe place to put the suit. Preferably somewhere where Howard wouldn't find it. Which also meant that he had to get Howard to let him go.
Thankfully, Howard stepped out of the living room without arguing. Which was surprising. Not that Tony was complaining.
Most of the armour came off easily. Tony's clothes underneath were bogged down with sweat, of course. The hard part came when he tried to remove the last piece of armour- the gauntlet on his right hand. The skin underneath had been practically cooked to the inside of the gauntlet- which meant Tony couldn't remove the blasted thing without taking what was left of his skin with it, and then bleeding out all over the floor.
"I'm done," Tony called, and Howard- who had been hanging around the corner- walked back in.
"Now will you answer my question?" Howard asked.
"Hmm, let me think," Tony responded in a sarcastic tone as he gathered up the parts of his armour and stuffed them into a blanket-turned-makeshift-bag that had been laid out on the couch. "I think no." Tony turned around to face Howard, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me-"
As Tony made towards the living room's exit, Howard pulled out his handgun and pointed it at the inventor. "You're not going anywhere."
Tony turned around, rolling his eyes. Of course.