Re: Dream: Selina & Tony
Tony had never felt the particular urge to fight Selina. She was so quick about it, preferring the challenge, a colorful red flag, but Tony was no bull, and he was more amused than upset nine times out of ten. It was like that now, not because she was young, but just because she had funny opinions about love, and he probably couldn't convince her otherwise. Tony thought he was pretty lovable most of the time, and he didn't lose a single ounce of himself in any relationship. Surprise surprise. He met both bitter and chuckle with a tiny shrug, and no ready answer.
He kept his grip around her, facing the door, watching it. He was suddenly... very cold. Damp. But not dead; he shivered. Drops of stale water slid down his hair and down his clean-shaven chin, and the shirt was no longer sticky with blood, but soaked down with a wetness that made one want to gasp. He held onto her even if it made her cold too, and the light in the cave grew suddenly more red than blue as the coals in the brazier lit up with more intense heat. Another voice, louder than the others, spoke in measured, cultured tones, a man's voice whose native tongue was not English. None of his words were intelligible.
Outside the door, the bodies were piling up. It was one of those things with dreams, being able to see something even though "you" were somewhere else, and knowing that outside in the hall, all of Tony's heroes were dead. There were no exceptions, no real differentiation between men and women, powered and not, blood relative or passing friend. Rhodey was out there, and Damian and Steve, heaps of brave young men and women in fatigues, everyone. Tony kept a hard grip around her shoulders and stared outward.