Whumptober Day 21 - Laced Drink

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 He acted like he brushed it off, but he was always quieter for the rest of the day, more withdrawn.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 27 - Ransom

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

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“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 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.

the inventor.

Winter Soldier selfie. (2017)

I tried to draw a “Winter Soldier” version of the selfie Sebastian posted yesterday on Weibo but finally, it ended up as something quite different, particularly the face. ^^;;

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!!

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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.”