![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cathalinaheart posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stevetonygamesIt's finally time, here are the results of the Broken Telephone round!!
The starting prompt I provided was "Tony arrives just in time to catch Cap when he’s falling"
(1) wynnesome - art
(2) Jaz - edit
(3) Sadistic Sparkle - playlist
(4) amiyusesha - fic
The starting prompt I provided was "Tony arrives just in time to catch Cap when he’s falling"
(1) wynnesome - art
(2) Jaz - edit
(3) Sadistic Sparkle - playlist
(4) amiyusesha - fic
The sky above Steve was blue, bright, intense and cloudless. It was a bit boring a view, and Steve contemplated trying to turn over. The view of the ground rushing up at him would likely be more interesting, but that seemed like a lot of effort.
Metal settled against his side and he started moving again. He tossed an arm around his rescuer, and situated himself as best he could as his fall turned into flight. “Hey there Shell-Head.” He greeted.
“You are really fucking calm for a guy who is plummeting to his death!” Iron Man snarled at him over the comms.
“You seem annoyed.”
“Of course I’m annoyed!”
“Would you like me to flail some next time?”
“I want you to stop falling out of the sky!” Steve contemplated that for a moment.
“Seems unlikely. I can give it a try if you don’t want to catch me anymore, but it’s a thing that’s happened kinda regular like since long before I met you.”
“Don’t even joke. If you fall I will catch you.”
“And I will be waiting.” Steve told him cheerfully, and was promptly dropped on a Doom Bot for his efforts.
After the fighting and the clean-up Steve sought Tony out again, “Let me take you someplace this weekend.”
“Sure, I’m always free for dinner when it’s you asking.”
“No, I mean for the whole weekend.”
“Forward cap. Shouldn’t we date for a while first?”
“We have been dating, and it’s nice. Dinner, movies, sometimes I even manage to pay. Then we go back to the tower and deal with our crazy crowd. I’d like to manage to be alone together, just for a bit.”
“Well, yeah… I mean…”
“Do you not want to?”
“I’m just worried that I’m…easier to take in small doses.”
“I guess I am just going to have to prove you wrong on that. Any requests for the location?”
“Mmmm. A beach. If I’m getting you all to myself I want you dressed in as little as possible.”
Three days later Steve was standing on the beach practicing things he could say. “You always try to minimize things when we talk, but I begin baby where you end. We belong together.” He tried, contemplating whether he sounded sincere. Cold Wind skipped across his skin as the tide moved in, and he shivered in the salty air. Day was well and truly broken now, and that meant Tony was late. Steve gathered the picnic brunch he’d put together up and headed back to the house. The cheeses would wait better in the fridge.
Sunlight caught, gold in his hair, as he paused contemplating the way the door to the light house swung open. He’d closed it firmly behind himself after he’d checked the island over to make sure he and Tony would truly be alone. He scoured the property again, looking for signs of the hands that had turned the deadbolt he’d so firmly anchored. He felt a desperate aching panic when he found the empty Iron Man suit standing calmly in the shed. Tony wasn’t late. He was missing.
“This is Captain Handsome Ordering you to rock and roll on that 45.” Steve pronounced firmly, wishing Tony had given him something more like a random string of numbers. Jarvis hummed softly to life “Passcode accepted. How can I be of service captain?”
“Locate Tony.” Steve ordered the armor firmly.
“I… cannot.” Right. Not exactly unexpected in the current circumstances, but it should have been impossible. Someone besides the two of them would have to have known exactly where Tony was going to be this morning AND how to hide him from his own tech. This rental was an island, so air and water were the only routes a kidnapper could have used to smuggle him away, and Steve would have heard a motor boat of aircraft.
“I need a lift.” He grimly pulled his sturdiest clothing on over his swim suit, glad he’d grabbed his duffel on his run through the building, and even more glad that he was far too paranoid to leave his shield behind while he went on vacation. “Straight up, then spiral out from the building. Run all sensors. Continue the search for Tony. Give us a private comm channel, one we’ve never used before and report any odd readings.” God damn it. Steve cursed to himself, struggling to focus on the water below. Often things that were disguised against technology were plain to see with human eyes, but he was hard pressed to keep his thoughts from wandering as he searched. ‘Tony, Why are you so far away?’ he wondered. ‘Why does something always happen to separate us?’ Steve’s thoughts ran in circles. ‘This was supposed to be our weekend together.’ He whined deep inside his own mind. ‘Why won’t you ever know that I’m in love with you?’ That was the question, wasn’t it? Steve truly was the king of wasting his chances at happiness.
“There. Underwater at our 2 o’clock. What readings are you getting?”
“Nothing Captain.”
“Alright. We are going to follow the thing that I can see and you can’t. Keep us high and stealthy. We don’t want them noticing us and panicking.”
“Do you believe Sir to be on board the stealthed vessel?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to punch a hole in it without knowing where exactly he is in there.” Steve watched as the submarine slid through waters barely deep enough for it to stay submerged, worrying constantly about what might be happening inside. He had planned this weekend to drown the genius in love, not salt water. The submarine surfaced at a busy dock just inside the Latverian border, and Jarvis got a brief ping of Tony’s location as a metal coffin was transferred from the submarine to an armored truck. Jarvis couldn’t enter Latverian airspace without triggering all sorts of… delays. Steve on the other hand… well. This wasn’t the first enemy truck loaded with precious cargo that he’d ambushed behind enemy lines. It likely wasn’t even the first time he’d done it here, not that it had been called Latveria back then.
He did miss the electronics. It was a lot easier to remember WHEN he was with Jarvis’ urbane voice feeding him information, or his team filling the comm lines with chatter.
Tony was in the coffin, bound with chains, his face cold to the touch. Too late, Steve whispered desperately to himself, always too late, but his always warm hands found a pulse and hope flared anew. The chains were no match for the shield, particularly fueled by Steve’s current rage and near panic. Steve scooped Tony up once his beloved was no longer attached to his prison and ran.
The real problem with being off grid was that Steve could not call and emergency medical evacuation in for the still figure in his arms. Once he was certain he was in Serbia he paused to transfer his warm clothing to his still and silent engineer. The wind and gathering storm clouds would delay rescue. Lightning showed him the still solid remains of a log cabin still clinging to the mountainside, and thunder hid the sound of the lock break upon being introduced to Steve’s shield. The storm made him think of Thor, and he wished the god were on earth at the moment. No storm would delay HIM getting Tony medical attention.
We belong to the light. We belong to the thunder. Steve thought, but we don’t belong to the rain. Tony was too cold already for Steve to allow him to get wet. Steve settled Tony as comfortably as he could on the wooden… bench? That ran around two side of the cabin. The old and broken chairs made excellent kindling and the old stove still seemed to function just fine. It was likely a shortage of water that had led to this homestead being abandoned, but Steve had plenty of that. Stripped down to his boxers he carried the old cast iron pot out into the rain to clean it, then left it on the stoop to fill. He dried off with his t-shirt then hung it and the swim trunks from the ceiling beams to dry. He rearranged the clothing again so he could pull Tony against him. Bare skin against bare skin was a good way to warm someone up, and the combination table/counter/workbench was still sturdy. It was also wide enough for two as long as Steve was careful. He whispered sweet nothings in Tony’s ear, all the speeches he’d planned for the beach, and the ones he’d planned to go with a ring. “I wanna be with you everywhere.” He told Tony, though he was pretty sure this wasn’t the time for such confessions.
The fields around the cabin were full of Avengers as soon as the storm broke. Bruce and Wanda had untangled the mix of drugs and magic Doom’s kidnappers had used before the team reached the hospital. After that it was just waiting for Tony to wake, and the others filtered away while Steve remained, talking quietly to Tony, even though he had no idea if Tony could hear him. “Through the good and the bad times, you're always by my side... In a superhuman way, and a very human way you're always by my side... I know that it isn't that easy to live with me; and yet, you've always stood by me. If you ask me whether I love you truly the answer is yes, and if you ask me how long, the answer is from the moment when you came into my life. I wish you’d ask me, so that I could tell you that it was you that gave me a reason to live. You are the best thing about this strange time I’ve woken up in, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Are you proposing? Did I just sleep through you proposing?” Tony was awake, crabby, and exactly how he always sounded when he woke in the hospital. Steve gathered Tony’s no longer quite so cold hands in his and cried.
“If you’re going to be like that I’ll just keep the ring and try again later.” Steve managed through his tears.
“No! Steve! I want my ring. Give me my ring right this moment!” Tony squawked. Steve managed to slide the ring on his finger before the bustling nurses shooed him out of the room, and it was still right where he’d placed it when he manipulated his way back in.
(5) Verena - art
(6) wynnesome - fic
Warning for MCD
Metal settled against his side and he started moving again. He tossed an arm around his rescuer, and situated himself as best he could as his fall turned into flight. “Hey there Shell-Head.” He greeted.
“You are really fucking calm for a guy who is plummeting to his death!” Iron Man snarled at him over the comms.
“You seem annoyed.”
“Of course I’m annoyed!”
“Would you like me to flail some next time?”
“I want you to stop falling out of the sky!” Steve contemplated that for a moment.
“Seems unlikely. I can give it a try if you don’t want to catch me anymore, but it’s a thing that’s happened kinda regular like since long before I met you.”
“Don’t even joke. If you fall I will catch you.”
“And I will be waiting.” Steve told him cheerfully, and was promptly dropped on a Doom Bot for his efforts.
After the fighting and the clean-up Steve sought Tony out again, “Let me take you someplace this weekend.”
“Sure, I’m always free for dinner when it’s you asking.”
“No, I mean for the whole weekend.”
“Forward cap. Shouldn’t we date for a while first?”
“We have been dating, and it’s nice. Dinner, movies, sometimes I even manage to pay. Then we go back to the tower and deal with our crazy crowd. I’d like to manage to be alone together, just for a bit.”
“Well, yeah… I mean…”
“Do you not want to?”
“I’m just worried that I’m…easier to take in small doses.”
“I guess I am just going to have to prove you wrong on that. Any requests for the location?”
“Mmmm. A beach. If I’m getting you all to myself I want you dressed in as little as possible.”
Three days later Steve was standing on the beach practicing things he could say. “You always try to minimize things when we talk, but I begin baby where you end. We belong together.” He tried, contemplating whether he sounded sincere. Cold Wind skipped across his skin as the tide moved in, and he shivered in the salty air. Day was well and truly broken now, and that meant Tony was late. Steve gathered the picnic brunch he’d put together up and headed back to the house. The cheeses would wait better in the fridge.
Sunlight caught, gold in his hair, as he paused contemplating the way the door to the light house swung open. He’d closed it firmly behind himself after he’d checked the island over to make sure he and Tony would truly be alone. He scoured the property again, looking for signs of the hands that had turned the deadbolt he’d so firmly anchored. He felt a desperate aching panic when he found the empty Iron Man suit standing calmly in the shed. Tony wasn’t late. He was missing.
“This is Captain Handsome Ordering you to rock and roll on that 45.” Steve pronounced firmly, wishing Tony had given him something more like a random string of numbers. Jarvis hummed softly to life “Passcode accepted. How can I be of service captain?”
“Locate Tony.” Steve ordered the armor firmly.
“I… cannot.” Right. Not exactly unexpected in the current circumstances, but it should have been impossible. Someone besides the two of them would have to have known exactly where Tony was going to be this morning AND how to hide him from his own tech. This rental was an island, so air and water were the only routes a kidnapper could have used to smuggle him away, and Steve would have heard a motor boat of aircraft.
“I need a lift.” He grimly pulled his sturdiest clothing on over his swim suit, glad he’d grabbed his duffel on his run through the building, and even more glad that he was far too paranoid to leave his shield behind while he went on vacation. “Straight up, then spiral out from the building. Run all sensors. Continue the search for Tony. Give us a private comm channel, one we’ve never used before and report any odd readings.” God damn it. Steve cursed to himself, struggling to focus on the water below. Often things that were disguised against technology were plain to see with human eyes, but he was hard pressed to keep his thoughts from wandering as he searched. ‘Tony, Why are you so far away?’ he wondered. ‘Why does something always happen to separate us?’ Steve’s thoughts ran in circles. ‘This was supposed to be our weekend together.’ He whined deep inside his own mind. ‘Why won’t you ever know that I’m in love with you?’ That was the question, wasn’t it? Steve truly was the king of wasting his chances at happiness.
“There. Underwater at our 2 o’clock. What readings are you getting?”
“Nothing Captain.”
“Alright. We are going to follow the thing that I can see and you can’t. Keep us high and stealthy. We don’t want them noticing us and panicking.”
“Do you believe Sir to be on board the stealthed vessel?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to punch a hole in it without knowing where exactly he is in there.” Steve watched as the submarine slid through waters barely deep enough for it to stay submerged, worrying constantly about what might be happening inside. He had planned this weekend to drown the genius in love, not salt water. The submarine surfaced at a busy dock just inside the Latverian border, and Jarvis got a brief ping of Tony’s location as a metal coffin was transferred from the submarine to an armored truck. Jarvis couldn’t enter Latverian airspace without triggering all sorts of… delays. Steve on the other hand… well. This wasn’t the first enemy truck loaded with precious cargo that he’d ambushed behind enemy lines. It likely wasn’t even the first time he’d done it here, not that it had been called Latveria back then.
He did miss the electronics. It was a lot easier to remember WHEN he was with Jarvis’ urbane voice feeding him information, or his team filling the comm lines with chatter.
Tony was in the coffin, bound with chains, his face cold to the touch. Too late, Steve whispered desperately to himself, always too late, but his always warm hands found a pulse and hope flared anew. The chains were no match for the shield, particularly fueled by Steve’s current rage and near panic. Steve scooped Tony up once his beloved was no longer attached to his prison and ran.
The real problem with being off grid was that Steve could not call and emergency medical evacuation in for the still figure in his arms. Once he was certain he was in Serbia he paused to transfer his warm clothing to his still and silent engineer. The wind and gathering storm clouds would delay rescue. Lightning showed him the still solid remains of a log cabin still clinging to the mountainside, and thunder hid the sound of the lock break upon being introduced to Steve’s shield. The storm made him think of Thor, and he wished the god were on earth at the moment. No storm would delay HIM getting Tony medical attention.
We belong to the light. We belong to the thunder. Steve thought, but we don’t belong to the rain. Tony was too cold already for Steve to allow him to get wet. Steve settled Tony as comfortably as he could on the wooden… bench? That ran around two side of the cabin. The old and broken chairs made excellent kindling and the old stove still seemed to function just fine. It was likely a shortage of water that had led to this homestead being abandoned, but Steve had plenty of that. Stripped down to his boxers he carried the old cast iron pot out into the rain to clean it, then left it on the stoop to fill. He dried off with his t-shirt then hung it and the swim trunks from the ceiling beams to dry. He rearranged the clothing again so he could pull Tony against him. Bare skin against bare skin was a good way to warm someone up, and the combination table/counter/workbench was still sturdy. It was also wide enough for two as long as Steve was careful. He whispered sweet nothings in Tony’s ear, all the speeches he’d planned for the beach, and the ones he’d planned to go with a ring. “I wanna be with you everywhere.” He told Tony, though he was pretty sure this wasn’t the time for such confessions.
The fields around the cabin were full of Avengers as soon as the storm broke. Bruce and Wanda had untangled the mix of drugs and magic Doom’s kidnappers had used before the team reached the hospital. After that it was just waiting for Tony to wake, and the others filtered away while Steve remained, talking quietly to Tony, even though he had no idea if Tony could hear him. “Through the good and the bad times, you're always by my side... In a superhuman way, and a very human way you're always by my side... I know that it isn't that easy to live with me; and yet, you've always stood by me. If you ask me whether I love you truly the answer is yes, and if you ask me how long, the answer is from the moment when you came into my life. I wish you’d ask me, so that I could tell you that it was you that gave me a reason to live. You are the best thing about this strange time I’ve woken up in, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Are you proposing? Did I just sleep through you proposing?” Tony was awake, crabby, and exactly how he always sounded when he woke in the hospital. Steve gathered Tony’s no longer quite so cold hands in his and cried.
“If you’re going to be like that I’ll just keep the ring and try again later.” Steve managed through his tears.
“No! Steve! I want my ring. Give me my ring right this moment!” Tony squawked. Steve managed to slide the ring on his finger before the bustling nurses shooed him out of the room, and it was still right where he’d placed it when he manipulated his way back in.
(5) Verena - art
(6) wynnesome - fic
Warning for MCD
Steve's mind still shies away from how close a call this had been.
The rescue a minute later; the wound a half-inch deeper, the loss of blood a drop greater... and Tony would almost certainly be laid out in a very different part of the hospital.
It had been a week of comatose touch-and-go in the ICU before his prognosis was upgraded to "guarded," and another week till his eyes opened for the first time since his admittance. Now that Tony is conscious and coherent and miraculously on the mend, Steve isn't waiting another minute.
Tony's left arm may be casted and his hand bandaged to the fingertips, but he can put the ring on his right pinky toe for all Steve cares.
"I... I can't wear this," Tony stammers in his still-raspy voice, lacking every bit of the poise and composure he radiates in all but his most dire moments.
"But you would, right? You'd want to?" Steve asks, a spike of doubt worming its way in where none had resided.
"More than anything. Except... maybe to be out of this damned bed," Tony grumbles. His conviction is unquestionably firm, and his eyes impossibly soft, and the relief that washes through Steve is warm and sweet. He rummages in one of his belt pouches and finds a length of cord, strings the ring onto it, and ties it around Tony's fiberglass-encased wrist. Then he leans in to brush his lips across Tony's wan and bruised face. It’s as much contact as he'll claim with Tony's skin still so thin over flesh and bones still so tenuously knit.
The call comes in via SHIELD. Multiple reports of suspicious behavior in an apartment block. Furtive movements in the darkness, and glimpses of some kind of green-skinned monster masks.
The residents fear they're being cased by a burglary ring.
The Avengers have little doubt. Pointy ears and knobby chins? With descriptions like that, it’s highly improbable that they’re dealing with green skinned masks – and far more likely that they’ve been tipped off to a sleeper cell of Skrulls.
A few days pass. Surveillance is initiated. The target location is identified. The plan is established. Steve and Tony, along with a SHIELD unit, will make their move the following night.
They clear the house’s two above-ground stories in one swift and coordinated engagement. Sometimes a plan does survive contact.
The Skrulls -- some shape-shifted and others in their natural forms -- are taken out to the waiting containment and transport vehicles. Tony remains upstairs, gathering electronic devices and examining several different computers present throughout the rooms to begin collecting the digital data.
According to blueprints, the door off the hallway between den and kitchen leads to a basement. Stealth is a moot point by now. If anyone's down there, they know something's coming for them. Steve's boots count off a measure of muffled, hollowed thuds as he descends the stairway, one beat per tread. Six, seven, eight. Another door at the bottom. Locked, but just a standard household doorknob. A hard twist breaks it. To keep his hands free, he kicks open the door.
The basement room is a scene from a nightmare, lit in two circles centered around weak ceiling bulbs. A throng of terrified people press against the back wall. Standing, huddled, and supine, they support each other in a crumbling brick and mortar of limbs, a ramshackle human ruin ready to collapse at the slightest structural shift. Like desperate, cornered creatures, fear has rendered them frozen to stillness and silence, yet their bodies betray it with trembling their muscles can't control and whimpers their breaths can't contain.
Over the comms, Steve makes an urgent request for medical aid. For those present, he makes repeating assurances of safety and relief.
A team of responders bustles in with methodical urgency, setting in place portable lighting units, gurneys, and packs of supplies. Steve helps direct them where his visual assessments and the prisoners' pleas have suggested the most imperative needs.
As the emergency personnel take the situation in hand, Steve's attention shifts to another door in the corner. He's zeroed in on the sounds of life his enhanced hearing perceives on the other side: heartbeat; footsteps; rustles of clothing. There's someone else down here.
This door is more heavily secured, but still yields readily to a super-soldier applying himself shoulder-first as a battering ram. He breaks through to a whole new nightmare.
Inside, arms crossed around his too-thin body, and his hollow-cheeked, hollow-eyed face stretching into near-mortal shock at the sight of Steve, stands none other than Tony Stark.
Steve's stomach twists and drops. Tony is not here. Tony is girded in armor and is upstairs working on the computers. Tony wears Steve's ring on his hand and carries Steve's heart in his chest. …this is not Tony, this is not Tony…
His furor erupts and his shield flies from his hand, striking true as ever. The head of the monster splits from its neck, hits the concrete floor with a sickening crack, and the body crumples.
And remains human.
"TONY," Steve screams, as everything he sees splinters into a red-shifted blur and everything he knows wrenches and jolts and he's fallen down a cliff and off the edge of reality.
...it wasn't a Skrull it wasn't a Skrull and if they'd had Tony then WHAT THE HELL HAD HE MARRIED…
Iron Man plunges into the room calling frantically to Steve, his faceplate up and bare face almost as red as the metal.
Steve whirls and strikes again, equally deadly, rending the imposter who has dared wear Tony's face and Steve's ring, who has dared pretend at Tony's life and Steve's love.
With a clanging crash, a second body falls.
For a second time, no transformation takes place.
The ground isn't the ground. Steve plummets again, and hits bottom somewhere much further down, much darker, much deeper within his mind. He doesn't try to get back up.
Twenty-six minutes later, the SHIELD team finds the multiversal portal two more levels down in the second sub-basement.
(7.1) Jaz - art
(7.2) amiyusesha - moodboard
(8) Verena - art
The rescue a minute later; the wound a half-inch deeper, the loss of blood a drop greater... and Tony would almost certainly be laid out in a very different part of the hospital.
It had been a week of comatose touch-and-go in the ICU before his prognosis was upgraded to "guarded," and another week till his eyes opened for the first time since his admittance. Now that Tony is conscious and coherent and miraculously on the mend, Steve isn't waiting another minute.
Tony's left arm may be casted and his hand bandaged to the fingertips, but he can put the ring on his right pinky toe for all Steve cares.
"I... I can't wear this," Tony stammers in his still-raspy voice, lacking every bit of the poise and composure he radiates in all but his most dire moments.
"But you would, right? You'd want to?" Steve asks, a spike of doubt worming its way in where none had resided.
"More than anything. Except... maybe to be out of this damned bed," Tony grumbles. His conviction is unquestionably firm, and his eyes impossibly soft, and the relief that washes through Steve is warm and sweet. He rummages in one of his belt pouches and finds a length of cord, strings the ring onto it, and ties it around Tony's fiberglass-encased wrist. Then he leans in to brush his lips across Tony's wan and bruised face. It’s as much contact as he'll claim with Tony's skin still so thin over flesh and bones still so tenuously knit.
The call comes in via SHIELD. Multiple reports of suspicious behavior in an apartment block. Furtive movements in the darkness, and glimpses of some kind of green-skinned monster masks.
The residents fear they're being cased by a burglary ring.
The Avengers have little doubt. Pointy ears and knobby chins? With descriptions like that, it’s highly improbable that they’re dealing with green skinned masks – and far more likely that they’ve been tipped off to a sleeper cell of Skrulls.
A few days pass. Surveillance is initiated. The target location is identified. The plan is established. Steve and Tony, along with a SHIELD unit, will make their move the following night.
They clear the house’s two above-ground stories in one swift and coordinated engagement. Sometimes a plan does survive contact.
The Skrulls -- some shape-shifted and others in their natural forms -- are taken out to the waiting containment and transport vehicles. Tony remains upstairs, gathering electronic devices and examining several different computers present throughout the rooms to begin collecting the digital data.
According to blueprints, the door off the hallway between den and kitchen leads to a basement. Stealth is a moot point by now. If anyone's down there, they know something's coming for them. Steve's boots count off a measure of muffled, hollowed thuds as he descends the stairway, one beat per tread. Six, seven, eight. Another door at the bottom. Locked, but just a standard household doorknob. A hard twist breaks it. To keep his hands free, he kicks open the door.
The basement room is a scene from a nightmare, lit in two circles centered around weak ceiling bulbs. A throng of terrified people press against the back wall. Standing, huddled, and supine, they support each other in a crumbling brick and mortar of limbs, a ramshackle human ruin ready to collapse at the slightest structural shift. Like desperate, cornered creatures, fear has rendered them frozen to stillness and silence, yet their bodies betray it with trembling their muscles can't control and whimpers their breaths can't contain.
Over the comms, Steve makes an urgent request for medical aid. For those present, he makes repeating assurances of safety and relief.
A team of responders bustles in with methodical urgency, setting in place portable lighting units, gurneys, and packs of supplies. Steve helps direct them where his visual assessments and the prisoners' pleas have suggested the most imperative needs.
As the emergency personnel take the situation in hand, Steve's attention shifts to another door in the corner. He's zeroed in on the sounds of life his enhanced hearing perceives on the other side: heartbeat; footsteps; rustles of clothing. There's someone else down here.
This door is more heavily secured, but still yields readily to a super-soldier applying himself shoulder-first as a battering ram. He breaks through to a whole new nightmare.
Inside, arms crossed around his too-thin body, and his hollow-cheeked, hollow-eyed face stretching into near-mortal shock at the sight of Steve, stands none other than Tony Stark.
Steve's stomach twists and drops. Tony is not here. Tony is girded in armor and is upstairs working on the computers. Tony wears Steve's ring on his hand and carries Steve's heart in his chest. …this is not Tony, this is not Tony…
His furor erupts and his shield flies from his hand, striking true as ever. The head of the monster splits from its neck, hits the concrete floor with a sickening crack, and the body crumples.
And remains human.
"TONY," Steve screams, as everything he sees splinters into a red-shifted blur and everything he knows wrenches and jolts and he's fallen down a cliff and off the edge of reality.
...it wasn't a Skrull it wasn't a Skrull and if they'd had Tony then WHAT THE HELL HAD HE MARRIED…
Iron Man plunges into the room calling frantically to Steve, his faceplate up and bare face almost as red as the metal.
Steve whirls and strikes again, equally deadly, rending the imposter who has dared wear Tony's face and Steve's ring, who has dared pretend at Tony's life and Steve's love.
With a clanging crash, a second body falls.
For a second time, no transformation takes place.
The ground isn't the ground. Steve plummets again, and hits bottom somewhere much further down, much darker, much deeper within his mind. He doesn't try to get back up.
Twenty-six minutes later, the SHIELD team finds the multiversal portal two more levels down in the second sub-basement.
(7.1) Jaz - art
(7.2) amiyusesha - moodboard
(8) Verena - art
