Tony Stark (cutsthewire) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2020-04-29 18:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, julia wicker, tony stark / iron man (mcu) |
WHO: Julia Wicker, Tony Stark (MCU)
WHAT: Julia and Tony offer each other a little emotional support
WHEN: February 25 / April 20 - Post-Maleficent / After Quentin's Disappearance
WHERE: Stark Lake House / The Atomica
WARNINGS: Mentions of character death
STATUS: Complete
PART ONE -- Post Maleficent It hadn’t actually taken any longer to get home after the battle than on any other extraordinary occasion in Tumbleweed. Some of the roads were blocked by debris. There was a strange hint of brimstone and clove in the air that burned slightly at Julia’s nostrils. It hadn’t taken any longer but it felt longer. Tony was out of it and Julia shepherded him gently back to the lakehouse. It wasn’t a completely surprising reaction to suddenly having his hex lifted. The emotion bottles worked similarly. Having her shade restored had been traumatic. Considering what he was going through, so far he seemed alright. If she could just get him home, to bed, without worrying Morgan too terribly. Tony Stark was himself again. Because really, who was the man without his humor. Without his ability to love (or irritate) those around him. The problem was, it was as if the magical dam that had held back his emotions had broken, and now he was being doused by a tidal wave of feelings. A little like what he had imagined it would be like when he died―before he had actually done that. Bits of memory tied with strong emotions flashed in his mind, even as he tried to focus on anything else. His breaths came in gulps in between what was either laughter or crying and repeated apologies to Julia who was practically hauling his ass away from where the fighting had been. Praise Our Lady Buzzkill for magic portals. Morgan was on the other side, clad in her armor just in case, and ran to her father as the portal closed behind them. “Is he okay?” she asked Julia. “Hey, kiddo,” Tony said in response, his voice a weird combination of a sigh and an exclamation. But he reached down and pulled her into his arms and buried his tear-stained face in her hair. Julia bit on her lower lip, watching the interaction between father and daughter carefully. “He’s okay,” Julia started. She tried calculating Tony’s ability to keep it together in front of Morgan as to not scare the kid. “His feelings are back, he’s just getting used to them again.” She didn’t promise he would be better in a few hours or by morning. Emotion bottles were meant to be used for three hours max. Tony had gone days without his emotions and she didn’t actually know what the recovery would look like. Tony kept the embrace brief and he let go of Morgan out of necessity. If he held onto her any longer, he might not let go. The first time he held her. The first time she smiled. The first time she called him dada. He put her down and took a step back, trying to keep the expression on his face calm. The thought that he might not see her again. Leaving her that holographic message. Her mother telling him he could rest now. Shit. He looked pleadingly toward Julia. Julia’s hands took Tony gently by the arm. “He should probably get some sleep,” Julia said. “But we’ll see how he’s doing in the morning, okay?” Peter could order pizza for dinner, Julia reasoned. They probably did that more than Tony would have wanted for his kids, but this was Tumbleweed. They had to be flexible. Julia quietly started to prod Tony into their shared bedroom. Once they had the door shut behind them, Julia stepped forward and wiped the tears under his eyes. “Glad to have you back,” she said, smiling. Tony let himself be ushered into the bedroom, but not before telling Morgan he loved her tons and making promises of pancakes in the morning he hoped he could keep and a teary wave at Peter as the teenager burst through the front door. Alone with Julia, Tony let out a shaky breath and tried to smile. “Is that what we’re calling this?” He gestured theatrically to his splotchy face with a trembling hand. “Thanks for getting me out of there, Shrubwitch.” It wasn’t clear whether he was talking about the living room or the aftermath of Maleficent’s demise. “Yeah, it sucks,” Julia said sympathetically. Her fingers combed through the front of Tony’s hair, just over his forehead. “This is exactly why I don’t do emotion bottles. And unfortunately you were bottled up a hell of a lot longer than three hours. Not that it’s exactly the same but it looks pretty close.” Tony closed his eyes, reveling in the familiarity of the touch, the familiarity of the feelings that came along with it. It grounded him a little. “I think we can safely categorize emotion bottles under Never in the Magical Experiences file.” He opened his eyes again and gazed down at Julia. “I owe you one. Several.” Julia shook her head. “This is just what we do. No owing.” He seemed calmer now. Perhaps it was because it was only the two of them, and Julia herself steadied her own breath to provide as much stability as she could in his vulnerability. “You want to try and get some sleep?” she offered. Calmer might not have been the right word for it, but he was starting to feel more in control. The flood of emotions was still ongoing, but as the minutes passed, they weren’t quite the shock to his system that they had been just after the spell was released. He cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes slightly. “No, there’s definitely a scorecard. Don’t ask me what it says or who’s in the red, but…” It felt good to tease, even as he was reminded of the usual guilt that tended to hang around in his subconscious. Guilt over Pepper. Guilt over choosing his memory of her over Julia. It was joined by the guilt he felt for leaving his family in order to stop Thanos and a million other things, and oh god. He needed to be distracted from himself again. Tony staggered a little. “Try being the operative word in that sentence.” Julia’s mouth curled into an impish little smile. It felt good to be teased. Tony had been only a shade of his former self without his emotions. It wasn’t until she saw the subtle struggle on his face that her expression softened. His eyes said a lot. It was probably why he was often so partial to sunglasses. So she closed the space between them and kissed him. Julia had missed that, too. One hand snaked through his hair, and the other around his waist. Better than being teased. She paused to say, “I think I can help with that, too.” Tony was quick to react to her intimacy and the other emotions it brought out of him. He brought his arm around her and it steadied him. He didn’t close his eyes, but instead watched her face as she kissed him. “Did you say sleep or nap?” he asked with a crooked smile. Julia tried her best at looking sly. “We can always nap if sleep doesn’t come.” Nap had become a useful euphemism especially since moving in with his family, becoming part of his family. Deciding to get just slightly bossy, Julia started working at Tony’s clothing, playfully leading him backwards towards the bed, as if she were trying to order to him to bed. In a way, she was. Tony let himself be led. He liked bossy women. Had a weakness for them actually. And it was a source of pride that his daughter was likely to grow up into one. “There’s your first mistake. Who could sleep when napping’s on the table?” Still, as he stepped out of his clothing, he made no move to remove hers. Julia did not bother to hide the appreciative once over with her eyes. Sometimes it was hard to imagine how she ended up with a literal superhero, in actions, intelligence and looks. Once he backed onto the bed, she settled on top and continued calling the shots. Tonight was about keeping Tony distracted, and Julia was up for the task. PART TWO -- Q’s Disappearance Julia was taking a walk on the ship when she heard the familiar alert on her phone. The disappearances were never fun, but if she were being honest with herself she had been exceedingly lucky for her first two plus years in Tumbleweed and on the cruises. It was more out of concern for other people that she lifted her phone and started reading off names of those who vanished. Her eyes stopped at Quentin’s name, and with it, for one painful jolt, her heart. No. She tried reading the list again. Again, her eyes stopped at Quentin’s name. She was seeing it wrong. Julia calmly tried reading the list a third time. Quentin’s name was still there. It was like hearing the news of his death all over again. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Quentin was supposed to be able to outsmart that fate here, like the others who had come to Tumbleweed knowing their lives would be cut short back home. There was a sharp pain in her knees and the horizon changed. It took Julia a moment to realize that she had planted herself suddenly on the floor. She set the face of her phone down on the floor, as if not seeing the names would make the news easier to take. Tony was playing Would You Rather: Food Replicator Edition with his kids when he got the notification. Out of force of habit, he quickly scanned what was long list of names this time around. Quentin Coldwater. Shit. He was momentarily distracted by the name Leo Valdez, but then his eyes jumped back to Quentin’s. Julia. Leaving Morgan with Peter, Tony pulled out his copy of the imitation Marauder's Map Julia and her magic pals had conjured up to keep tabs on their family while they were aboard the Atomica. Locating Julia, he quickly made his way toward her unmoving marker, worried about what he would find. His mind went back to the moment she had awoken from her update. How she had barely managed to tell him what had happened. How he’d held her and stroked her hair and let her cry. It had felt inadequate then, even when her friend was still displaced with them. Now Quentin was gone, back to the death that awaited him. And as he rounded the corner and saw Julia collapsed on the floor, Tony tried not to think of his own. He crouched down for a moment, his eyes trying to meet her gaze, and then, finally, he sat down on the floor beside her. He pressed his shoulder against hers, offering it up for her head. He didn’t care about the occasional passersby or causing an inconvenience. His attention was fixed on Julia and working out what she needed from him. He would take her back to his room, or they would sit there on the floor all night. What he didn’t do was say a word. At times like this, even the most carefully chosen words would be meaningless. And so he reached out and took Julia’s hand in his. It felt like Q’s funeral all over again. Just like the first time, she wasn’t there and there was nothing she could have done if she had been there. Eliot, Alice, the others, would likely feel Q’s disappearance like a gut punch. It had been easy to pretend Q was okay, would always be okay, as long as he was here. But Julia’s ability to deny what would be Q’s eventual future evaporated as soon as she saw the notification. Q was dead. Again. She barely registered Tony next to her, but found herself drawn to him like a magnet. First his hand, then her head finding his shoulder. Her breathing was panicked, if only because she was trying so hard not to cry. No one was really safe from being sent home. And with that thought, she clutched Tony a little tighter. When Julia rested her head on his shoulder, Tony leaned his head against hers in return. His thumb traced circles on the top of her hand, and the two sat in silence for a long while. Finally he did speak, his voice soft and low. “You know, it’s not every man that can pull off a corset. It was a good look for him, even if it forced him to sit like normal human being.” He was referring to the party years back at the house of the eighteenth century sex worker that had breezed through Tumbleweed. Julia had sent him pictures of the soiree, including one of Quentin in a corset that had quickly been made the magician’s contact photo in Tony’s phone. He had other memories of Julia’s friend, but that was the one that came to mind. The laugh took her by surprise. It was over quickly, her eyes squeezed shut afterwards, but she’d almost forgotten about the party. This place had done one thing for her: it’s given her more time with her friend than she would have otherwise had. Julia didn’t deny being greedy and wanting more, though. “He could come back,” she said. And she knew it sounded desperate and maybe a little bit childish but that didn’t stop her from saying it or wanting it anyway. “Absolutely.” Tony had had friends disappear, only to return again. In this instance, it seemed too good to be true, but he would be hopeful for Julia’s sake. He was quiet a bit longer. A couple people passed them by. “Are we staying or going? Not that I’m unwilling to sit here all day. I don’t mind being a nuisance. But if there’s some place else you’d rather be, let me get you there.” He wasn’t sure what her grief would look like this time around. Julia nodded her head. Somewhere else where she wasn’t making some pathetic public display of herself was probably better. Where that would be? The easy answers like her room or his room did not immediately come to her. “Um, going,” she said quietly, realizing her nod could be mistaken either way. She remembered how sad Q was after Napoleon and Gaby left. How depressed he was. An unwelcome thought entered her mind: what if disappearing was contagious? What if, on some level, the people that left had secretly just given up. Julia inhaled sharply. She wouldn’t be next. Tony wouldn’t be next. Everything would be fine. She forced herself to stand up and collect herself, even if she still did not know where it was she wanted to go. Tony stood when she did, reaching over to pick up her phone which was still face down on the floor. He offered her his arm, more out of habit than necessity, and rather than ask, he started them towards his and Morgan’s quarters. With the roommate situation this time around, he thought she might like the privacy his stateroom provided, at least until Peter brought the munchkin back for bed. “I’ve got you, Shrubwitch.” |