you know who i am. (heartofscraps) wrote in zombieslogs, @ 2013-02-16 23:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | !a haunting, steve rogers, tony stark |
Who: Tony, ghost!Howard Stark, ghost!Obadiah Stane, and a special appearance by Steve Rogers (who was borrowed with permission and love <3)
What: Nightmares and realities mix into one.
Where: Tony's cabin in the wilderness.
When: After Tony discovers the ghosts in his lab.
Warnings: Language and mentions/memories of child abuse.
Note: Italics = dream
Ever since the world had gone to shit with the virus outbreak, Tony had begun to ration his scotch collection in an effort to make it last. There were some days that it was rougher than others to keep himself from drinking it all, and there were days when he knew the way his hands would shake had nothing to do with lack of sleep, but knowing and actually caring were two completely different things.
Now that his father and Obadiah Stane were visiting his lab, though, the idea of rations went out the window. After talking to Steve, Tony shakily served himself a glass of the amber liquid before tossing it back like it was water. He had told Natasha that scotch sometimes made the ghosts quieter, and generally nightmares would signify more alcohol intake than usual, but it wasn't working. This wasn't the 'usual.'
"Working on a new golden egg, kiddo?" Obadiah teased with a smirk that was audible in his voice. "What's your new best thing?"
No, Tony wanted to say. He just kept thinking it, like a mantra that would somehow help him get a hold of his sanity. Or...whatever remained of it. You aren't real. You can't be real. You were gone, you were--
"Dead," Obadiah suddenly finished for him, quietly as he hovered next to him. "I'm dead, right? You should know. You killed me."
"Well then," Tony muttered as he refilled his glass, focusing solely on his drink. "Do me a favor: Go away."
"Anthony," Howard chided from the other corner of the room, and Tony felt his back stiffen. He knew that tone. He knew that slur; even if it was twenty years since he had last heard it, he still remembered the tone of his father's angry disapproval. "Don't be rude."
Unable to help it, Tony laughed at that even in mid drink. Even if he almost choked, because of course his father would say that. Obadiah had been his best friend. Obadiah had been his business partner. Everything else be damned, and Tony didn't argue. He didn't talk back. Because, even as a full grown man, some habits died hard. And, even if he knew Howard couldn't hurt him now, there were very vivid memories of drunken days and nights when his father would pull on his hair when he was too loud, or not following direction. He would shake him until his arms felt numb for acting childish, and as Tony refilled his drink once more, there was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that expected it. The tight grasp, the shaking, the hair pulling. The yelling. The words that sometimes hurt more than anything he could have done physically.
"Tony?"
The sound of Steve's voice startled him, and it wasn't until he took a step that Tony realized he had dropped the glass. "Oh, hey. Hi, Steve." He pinched the bridge of his nose before rubbing his face with an open palm. "Don't worry about the glass, I'll take care of it later. I just--" Need some sleep. Need my sanity. Need them to leave. "I'd, uh, introduce you but you know each other, right? Whatever he says about me giving him all that white hair-- well. It's probably true." It was supposed to be a joke, but it came out almost bitterly and he walked to the cot in the corner of the lab as he avoided eye contact with the super soldier. Going to his bedroom seemed pointless, and he suddenly felt so weary that he wasn't sure if he would fully make it upstairs. "I'll be... Yeah. Thanks, Steve."
Maybe they'll be gone, Tony hoped as he closed his eyes. Rolling to his side, he turned his back to the guests in his lab and tried to focus on something, anything, other than the current reality.
Maybe they'll be gone.
Maybe...
"You're a lousy host, Anthony," Howard sighs. Tony stays still, opening his eyes and staring firmly at the wall as if that will make him be quiet, but Howard continues. "I thought things would be different this time."
"Different?" Tony asks despite himself, but still not turning to face him. "Different, how?"
"Such anger..." Obadiah tsks, and he sounds so close that Tony rolls over only to realize that the older man is standing right next to the cot where he had been laying down. "You weren't like this."
Tony smirks, but there's no humor in his features. "A few things change after you try to kill a guy."
"Still holding onto that righteous grudge of yours? You killed me. Remember? Who should be the one with the grudge?" His hand hovers over Tony's chest, as if reaching out for him, and Tony's expression changes in an instant. Obadiah doesn't actually touch the arc reactor, but Tony scrambles to his feet before he can even get closer to it. Because suddenly he's transported back to that night in Malibu, when Obadiah had paralyzed him to pull the reactor right out of his chest, and essentially leaving him for dead. He remembers the pain in his chest, the way his lungs felt as if they couldn't get filled with oxygen. He remembers the panic at trying to move again, trying to go save Pepper, and he lets out what sounds like a growl of frustration. "Get out. GET OUT."
"You are too old for temper tantrums, don't you think?" Howard doesn't turn to face him, but he doesn't have to; Tony quiets down immediately. Instead of saying anything else, Howard just stares at the prosthetic leg that Tony had been working on and chuckles under his breath. "This is what you're focusing your energy on?"
"Among other things."
"What, are you still trying to 'save your soul'? Redemption, right? First with your little 'Iron Man' toy, and now this?"
"Stop." Howard does stop talking, but Tony doesn't take his eyes away from him. He just keeps observing his inventions, his designs, and the usually overly confident Tony Stark feels self conscious about it all. Howard had been a brilliant man, one of the inventors of the atomic bomb and just an overall bright mind, but he had been a lousy father with even worse skills in communication with his son. Because while Howard had left behind a video saying how Tony had been his best invention, there had been years afterwards where he had said and essentially proved otherwise. "Why are you back?"
"To keep an eye on you. To make sure..."
"...what, that I'm 'okay'?" Tony laughs, a bitter sound that leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "Yeah. I'm fantastic."
"The self pity doesn't become you."
"And the concerned father look doesn't quite fit you, either. What a pair we make, huh?"
Howard smirks, that cruel smirk that was not out of amusement but rather signified that he had reached his limit. "Watch it, you little prick. I am your father, and you're going to listen..."
Howard is suddenly not old, his hair is no longer white, and he stands so tall over him. And he grabs him, and he grasps his arms so tightly that Tony can't help but cry out, and he can't stop. He can't fight him, he can't get away.
No, he just thinks as the memory overtakes his nightmare. Stop.
STOP.
"NO," Tony yelled out, jerking awake with a start and sitting up as if the pillow was responsible for the nightmare.
Nightmare. The thought caused him to rake his fingers through his hair, tugging on it so harshly that it looked as if he himself would tear it out, but he stopped as he realized he had visitors.
Right. Obadiah. His father. Steve.
Letting out a hollow laugh under his breath, he just felt his shoulders slump. Of course it wasn't a nightmare. Of course, their presence had been real, but neither ghost said anything. His father's expression was blank, standing over the prosthetic leg Tony had been working on that morning, and Obadiah just stared at him in what seemed mild amusement.
Right.
Unable to really make eye contact with Steve, Tony stood and hesitated on what to say next. 'I'm sorry you wasted your time in coming'? 'I'm sorry you had to see that'? "I think I need some fresh air," he said instead as he picked up a handgun he kept under his desk. It was easier to avoid looking at him as he checked there were bullets, and secured it on his waistband. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep, so don't feel obligated to stay. But you can, if you guys are...you know. Catching up."
Turning to actually face Steve, he nodded a thank you, before grabbing his coat and going upstairs. He just needed some air. He just needed...
He just needed them gone, once and for all.