Archive of Our Own ^beta

In hindsight, they really should have figured out that Tony was something more than human earlier. It wasn’t even like he was really trying to hide it, for how lax he was about acting normal in the Tower. Steve had seen Clint try harder to hide the fact that he’d broken the stove again than Tony tried to hide on a daily basis.

It should have been obvious. But it just wasn’t. After all, the name Tony Stark was attached to some very eccentric legends, turning their initial ideas of the man into an expectation that all the bizarre and strange in the world followed him. Which meant that when things periodically exploded below their feet and toasters became sentient and the lights above their heads started moving, it was just another Tuesday. This was Tony Stark they were talking about, after all.

But there were some things about the man that they just could not ignore. Separately, oh of course they could– because the bizarre and strange followed the man. Put them all together, however, and the signs painted a different picture.

-

Bruce picked absentmindedly at a ball of lint on the sleeve of the hoodie he had ‘borrowed’ from the lost-and-found. The devil on his shoulder was frowning in disgust at the worn cloth, but mostly Bruce had just gotten used to wearing less-than-ideal clothing. As long as he was covered, after all.

“...Hulk grabbed Iron Man out of the… damages… Stark?” Fury was saying, his fingers tapping restlessly on the tablet he held. Bruce could commiserate, he too would much rather be doing, well, just about anything other than debriefing from their last mission. Amsterdam had been a routine find-HYDRA-base-destroy-HYDRA-base without any casualties or, more surprisingly, injuries.

“...structural integrity… nanotech plates… nothing a day’s work can’t…” Tony rattled off, looking just as bored as Bruce felt.

Bruce gave up on the lint ball, which stubbornly refused to come off. Across from him, Cap looked like he was about to fall asleep, and Bruce was pretty sure that Natasha and Clint were stealthily playing chopsticks under the table.

“Great. Now, are there any other pressing concerns that need to be discussed before we all go the fuck home?” Fury managed not to glare at them as he glanced around the room, but it was a near thing. “Fantastic. You’re all dismissed.”

“Ah– Wait, sir–” A harried-looking agent burst into the room carrying an overflowing box. He flushed when the rest of the room’s attention turned to him. 

Bruce sighed. That agent wasn’t going to last long.

“What.” Fury was actually glaring now.

“Um, well, we uh–” The agent swallowed hard and then blurted, “The Avengers Initiative has received an abnormal amount of fan mail and a number of inquiries about endorsing various product lines. Many of them need an answer by tomorrow.”

“What the fuck,” Fury mumbled under his breath, rubbing his temples. “PR. Fine whatever, review them with the team. I have shit to do.”

The agent bobbed his head up and down, swallowing hard as he glanced around at the various Avengers scattered around the conference tables. The other agents filed out, and Fury slammed the door behind him.

“Goodies!” Tony said gleefully, clapping his hands. Steve jolted upright at the sound. His hair was sticking up. “Gimme.”

The agent dropped the large box in front of Tony, then began nervously reading off company names and their offers. “Uh– So. Octavian Industries wants to market Iron Man pens that double as laser pointers, there are some heatable Avengers plushies from Warmies, and Diego Riner wants to paint a mural on the new SalesForce building that's going up downtown…”

“Huh,” Tony said distractedly, staring hard at the cardboard box. He cocked his head as though calculating something, then shrugged and dug into the contents.

Clint cackled when the agent mentioned bobbleheads, abandoning his game of chopsticks to help Tony empty the box. “Coulson absolutely needs a Hawkeye bobblehead.”

“I’m married to a child.” Natasha muttered, rolling her eyes long-sufferingly. Then, “You should put it on Lola’s dashboard.”

“Right in the center,” Clint agreed.

“Replace the hula dancer,” Natasha said.

Bruce half-heartedly sifted through the explosion of colorful trinkets that had landed on the table.

“Aha!” Tony crowed triumphantly, holding something up. Bruce squinted at it until the shape of a black pen case became clear.

“Iron Man pens?” Steve asked blearily, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“No,” Tony said satisfiedly. “A bomb.”

A– “Tony. What?”

“What the hell?” Clint scuttled backwards until his back hit the wall, pulling Natasha with him. She jabbed him in the side with what looked like a Thor bobblehead but didn’t take her eyes off the… thing in Tony’s hand. “A bomb?”

“Are you sure?” Steve was wide awake now, eyes wide as he stared at it.

“It looks like pens to me,” Bruce said, tilting his head. And it did. The thin black box had rounded corners and a clear top that let them see through it to the three red pens, each topped with intricate renditions of the Iron Man helmet. There was nothing about it that suggested it was an explosive device, but Tony had seemed convinced even before he fished the case out from the box.

“Exactly,” Tony said, grinning wildly at the case. He made grabby fingers at Natasha. “Natashalie, I know you have pokey things on you right now.”

She bared her teeth at him in a terrifying smile. “Get your own pointy things.”

“Exploding thing, guys. Fighting later.” Steve slid a pocket knife across the table to Tony, who picked it up and immediately pried open the top of the box.

Bruce found himself holding his breath as Tony removed the lid and then a false bottom to reveal a bunch of colorful wires and a small power source.

Huh.

“Aw, shit.” Steve sighed, expressing what they were all thinking.

“That’s a no-no word, Cap,” Tony admonished at the same time Natasha deadpanned, “Language, Steven.”

Steve sighed again, and without hesitation, Tony cut one of the blue wires.

Bruce couldn’t help but stare. How did he know what to do? Sure, Tony was a genius, and not just self-proclaimed. But the tangled mess of wires and connections would have taken anybody more than a few minutes to decipher.

“Crisis averted,” Tony said cheerfully, flipping the pocket knife in the air and catching it again. “No ‘splodey things today.”

“How did you know which wire to cut?” Steve looked just as baffled as Bruce felt.

“Magic.” Tony winked. He slid the knife back, gave a sarcastic salute, and then strode out the door, calling out behind him, “Save me a bobblehead, Barton!”

Natasha slid a questioning look in Bruce’s direction. He shrugged. Tony was really something else.

-

Steve ducked under the God of Thunder’s hammer, which narrowly missed his hair in its large arc. He dropped low and sent his leg into the back of Thor’s knees, causing them to buckle.

“That was a low play, Captain!” Thor laughed, not sounding winded in the least even as he hit the ground with an oof.

“Literally low.” Steve grinned, not able to help himself.

Clint’s gleeful cackle came from the back of the gym. “He knows dad jokes! Tasha, Tasha, Steve knows dad jokes. ”

“Grandpa jokes, more like,” came the reply. The thwick of a knife embedding itself in a target sounded.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m twenty-eight, thank you very much.” He popped back up, shield strapped to his arm, and resumed a readying stance. Thor collected his hammer and did the same. 

“Ready, Captain?” the god asked, a playful gleam in his eye. Steve liked Thor– the guy was like a golden retriever with too much energy and not enough to do with it. He didn’t have a malignant bone in his body.

“Hit me,” he challenged, bracing himself because he knew Thor liked to go on offensive and get the first hit in. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was the hammer that flew past his ear, a whirlwind of air following it that sent Steve flying into the ropes of the sparring ring. Distantly, he registered his shield landing somewhere to his left.

“Ouch,” he wheezed.

“Holy shit,” Clint yelped.

“My apologies, Captain! Are you injured?” Thor came bounding over, eyes wide and eyebrows pinched. “I intended only to hit your shield, which is made of vibranium, is it not?”

“All good, Thor.” Groaning, he managed to get to his feet, stumbling a little into the ropes.

“Holy shit,” Clint mumbled again. Steve looked over. The archer was staring wide-eyed at the ropes.

“The ropes didn’t break.” Natasha stalked closer.

“ How didn’t they break?” Clint asked. “Mew Mew went straight into them. Those puppies should have snapped like twine.”

“I see you have been spending time with my lightning sister,” Thor said, amused. His expression turned serious. “Perhaps the Man of Iron created the ropes using the indestructible vibranium, much like the good Captain’s shield.”

Natasha reached a hand out to feel them. “They feel like the normal steel cables.”

“Oh my god,” Clint whispered in awe. “The ropes are worthy.”

“There is only one way to find out,” Thor said, grinning as he retrieved Mjolnir and geared up to swing it. Steve yelped and rolled out of the way just in time for the hammer to blast past him into the ropes again.

They didn’t break.

Sure, there was a slight bend, but then the hammer came to a complete stop midair before being flung back in the original direction. Steve rolled out of the way again, his mind turning rapidly to process the new information. 

“No way steel cables would have been able to do that.” Clint sounded almost scared now.

Natasha looked like she was trying to glare the ropes into submission. A knife appeared in her hand that definitely had not been there before.

Steve did another half roll onto his stomach and got to his feet. “They can’t actually be indestructible, right? Especially if they aren’t made out of vibranium.”

Natasha slashed her knife down on one, splitting the outer fabric and internal padding. She peered down. “Definitely not vibranium.”

“Not glowy enough,” Clint agreed.

“Thor’s hammer should have sliced clean through.” Steve shook his head in amazement. “Hell, I should be able to break those. Not like I haven’t before.”

“Try,” Natasha said suddenly. Steve glanced questioningly at her. “Try to break them.”

“Uh. Alright.” He placed a hand on either side of her cut, about a foot apart, and pulled . 

And then pulled again.

And then harder.

Nothing .

“Son of a gun,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t break them.”

“By the Norns,” Thor murmured.

A flash of movement by the rope caught his eye, and Steve started. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Natasha asked, a sharp glint in her eye. “Did you see something?”

Steve looked at her weirdly. That was an oddly specific question for her to ask.

“Clint,” she said instead of answering his silent question. “Shoot it with an explosive arrow.”

Steve choked. “What–”

“Oh, hell yeah.” Clint cackled, already pulling an arrow from the quiver strapped to his back. He twisted the back and something popped off into his hand. Steve was ominously reminded of a grenade pin being released. “Back up, everyone.”

No sooner than they had backed against the wall did a loud bang and a fiery flash of smoke appear on the ropes. White-blue flames quickly burned through the velvet covering the ropes, leaving the cables exposed.

Steve rubbed his eyes, half convinced that the effects of the explosion were making him see things. But when he blinked his eyes open a second later, the twin snakes of gold flowing around the top cable were still there. What the hell?

He took a step closer, the others doing the same next to him. The gold almost looked like a thin metal coating, but it was radiating an almost iridescent sheen. It was moving, flowing across the cable and disappearing just as quickly.

He blinked again. When he opened his eyes, the gold was gone.

“What the hell,” Clint said, “did Tony put in there.”

-

“Party’s coming your way, Point Break!” Iron Man said, voice strained as he blasted three giant squirrels and narrowly evaded what Natasha had been mentally calling the mother squirrel. “Feel free to send ‘em to the green guy.”

“I thought we talked about what constitutes a party, Stark,” she growled, then roundhouse-kicked a squirrel in its giant, squishy face.

“Aw, but it’s always a party wherever I am, Natashalie.”

“Man of Iron, I fear–” Thor’s voice cut out momentarily. Natasha’s eyes flicked to the sky, and a trickle of relief pierced the haze of the fight when she saw him flying high in the middle of a self-created storm. “I fear that these Midgardian squirrels have fangs of poison.”

“What the fuck ,” Clint groaned, drawing out the word.

“I did not sign up for this,” Natasha muttered. She shot two more squirrels in the throat.

“I was actually just thinking about how giant, poisonous squirrels would make today so much better,” Stark said. He blasted a squirrel, but failed to dodge the tail of another, which sent him spiralling through the air into the side of a skyscraper. “Ah, shi–”

Static cut the line.

Natasha watched in silent horror as an explosion occurred at impact, the mother squirrel turning around at the sound and chomping down. Giant, poisonous fangs demolished the spot Tony had disappeared.

“Mother fucker! ” Steve yelled. No ‘language’ came volleying back at him. “Hawkeye and Thor, cover us– Widow, get to Stark!”

She was already halfway there, heart lodged so firmly in her throat she wasn’t even sure she was breathing. Love is for children , something whispered in the back of her mind.

Yeah, well, she was a child then.

She arrived at the building’s wreckage at the same time Steve did, both of them immediately climbing through it to get closer to the hole that Tony had presumably disappeared into. Clambering over broken concrete, she nearly lost her balance when the surface began shifting underneath her.

That’s when she caught sight of the red metal protruding from the wreck. 

The suit was mangled, looking like it had been torn clean through. A single boot was detached completely and lying several feet away from half of the helmet.

Natasha went eerily still. Beside her, Steve still hadn’t noticed the suit. He was deeper into the caved-in building than she was, gripping a larger piece of concrete as tremors continued running through the ground.

“Steve,” she said quietly, eyes still latched to the red metal. He didn’t hear her, so she said it again. “ Steve.”

He looked behind him, then followed her eyes. In a matter of seconds, his expression went through confusion, realization, disbelief, and pain, finally settling in a blank mask that could rival her own.

“What? What’s going on?” Clint asked in her ear. Hulk roared distantly.

“Stark’s down,” Steve said blankly, still staring at the suit with no expression. Natasha’s chest felt empty.

“Bullshit,” Clint hissed, viper sharp. “Bull. Shit.”

When neither she nor Steve responded, he screamed, “ Fuck! ” and it was followed by the deafening sound of an explosion. The ground shook, and she knew the mother squirrel had fallen.

“Language,” someone coughed wetly. Natasha whipped her head up, eyes lasering on… Tony. He was far into the hole in the side of the building, his lower body still covered in concrete, but he was sitting mostly upright and actively pushing debris off himself.

“Tony, Tony, oh my God, Tony,” Steve cried, finally snapping out of his trance-like state. He rushed over to the other man and began uncovering him. “You’re alive, holy shit, thank God–”

Natasha didn’t move. Her chest felt tight and her feet rooted to the ground.

He was alive. But he should have been dead.

Something that looked like metallic gold retreated across his temple toward his hairline, but she blinked and it was gone.

He was alive.

-

Thor squinted at the thin metal sheet in his hand. It refused to awaken, despite the Man of Iron’s reassurances that pressing the circle on the side would turn on its lights.

He jabbed his thumb at the circle again, feeling a bit like a child in his naivety. When no change occurred to the metal sheet, he sighed. Perhaps the Man of Iron would be able to help him once again.

He strode toward the elevator– which seemed simply like a moving metal box, but at least it always took him where he desired to be– and pressed the circle to go down. In no time at all, he was stepping out into the cavernous room that housed Stark’s inventions.

The man himself was turned away from Thor and bent over a felled suit of armor, golden sparks blazing and jumping erratically. Thor vaguely recalled a master blacksmith teaching him the practice of welding when he was a young child.

“Ah, Man of Iron!” he called out boisterously, raising his voice to be heard over the careening sound of the welding. “Greetings, friend.”

The sparks ceased, and Stark turned around, flipping his metal face shield up to reveal a delighted grin.

“Point Break!” he greeted. “What brings you to my lair?”

“I do not mean to interrupt, Stark, if you are in the middle of…” he trailed off at the man’s shaken head. “Ah, well, in that case, I was hopeful that you would be able to assist me with turning on the metal box’s lights. I wish to communicate with the Lady Jane.”

“Ooh, tablet. Gimme.” Stark made a grabbing motion at the box, and Thor handed it over. He made some tapping motions on the surface, and the lights turned on easily.

Thor sighed. Perhaps it was just him who was useless with Midgardian technology.

“You should be all set, just charge it up with the cable I gave you.” Stark handed the metal– the tablet back and Thor took it gratefully, thanking him emphatically.

It was only after he had left the room of inventions that he realized he could not recall the Man of Iron holding a welding tool when he had turned around.

How odd , Thor mused. After all, he had been told many times over that Midgardians did not possess seidr.

-

Clint inhaled, then exhaled steadily. In a smooth continuation of his breath, he pulled back on the trigger. The recoil of the gun hit his shoulder, but he was already braced and barely felt it.

Bullseye.

He inhaled again, then let the breath of air out as slowly as his finger was putting pressure on the trigger. Sometimes he almost made it into a game of how slowly he could pull it.

With his hearing aids out, the shot was silent even as a hole bloomed in the dead center of the target.

Bullseye.

Inhale. Exhale. Bullseye.

Inhale. Exhale. Bullseye.

Inhale. Ex–

He stopped the breath in its path, stilling his finger completely but not removing it from its position on the worn pad of the trigger.

The back of his neck prickled with the awareness that someone else had entered the shooting range. Now was about the time he started wishing he had his hearing aids, but a bigger part of him was too tired to care. Chances were it was either Nat or one of the other Avengers who couldn’t sleep. And if not… well, he would just have to deal with it then.

He pulled the trigger. Bullseye.

Feet encased in fuzzy socks covered with dancing penguins entered his vision. Clint relaxed as he followed the legs up to find Tony’s bleary, amber-colored eyes. The other man looked as exhausted as Clint felt, bags under his eyes that Clint was sure were filled with nightmares.

Hi, Tony signed, movements slow and sloppy. He rubbed sleep from his eyes.

Couldn’t sleep? Clint signed back in lieu of a greeting.

Night terrors. You?

Day terrors , Clint signed, then looked away so he wouldn’t have to see Tony’s response. He got up from his crouched position, gathering the assortment of guns he had pulled from the armory to return them.

Tony easily accepted his lack of desire for conversation and grabbed the two that didn’t Clint couldn’t carry. They made their way to the armory at the back of the range in silence, but the simple companionship settled something inside of his chest.

Opening the heavy metal door and flicking the light on, they made quick work of unloading and shelving the guns. A bit of the tension leaked from his shoulders and they slumped tiredly.

Thanks, man, he signed. Appreciate it.

Tony gave him an uncharacteristically soft smile. Any time, L-E-G-O-L-A-S.

Clint turned away to hide the confusing fact that he was getting kind of choked up. He blamed it on the late night.

Flicking off the light, he left the armory and waited for Tony to do the same so he could shut the door. The room was dark save three bright spots: one large blue circle and two smaller, golden eyes. One was obviously the arc reactor, but the others made him do a double take. Tony’s eyes were… glowing?

Clint was tired enough that all his brain came up with was, Dammit, we lost another normal one to the superhumans.

- 

The next morning, Clint nursed a cup of coffee with approximately three too many espresso shots than were healthy. Natasha had her feet up on his chair and was absentmindedly scrolling through the news feed. Across from them, Bruce was showing Thor how to use his tablet. Steve was flipping pancakes at the stove, though rather unskillfully.

“Morning, fellow boy banders.” Tony’s voice sounded like he was gargling gravel as he nearly walked into the doorframe and then bounced off of Steve’s back on his way to the coffee pot. He still looked half asleep. 

“Morning, Tony!” Steve responded far too cheerfully for the early morning hour that ten o’clock was. He shoved an already prepared mug of steaming coffee and a plate of pancakes into Tony’s hands and manually turned him around to send him in the direction of the table.

“‘anks, Capsicle,” Tony mumbled back. He flopped into a chair across from Clint, picked up the mug, tilted his head back, and drained the whole thing in one gulp.

Clint snorted into his own coffee. And then inhaled it because Tony’s eyes had finally opened fully after being caffeinated, and they were a bright, swirling gold.

Natasha pounded him on the back harder than strictly necessary as Clint spluttered. “Man, I thought I was hallucinating last night. Why’re your eyes fuckin’ glowing?”

The others looked up sharply, and Tony’s grin turned a little more forced. Various sounds of shock came from around the kitchen, including Steve’s spatula hitting the cabinet as he accidentally flung it.

“I’m happy,” Tony said.

“Uh, that’s great, man, but why are your eyes glowing? ”

“Because I’m happy,” he said again, relaxing a little into his seat as his expression turned amused. “They tend to glow when I’m ‘experiencing a particularly strong emotion’, or so I’m told.”

Clint had so many questions, starting with–

“...Why haven’t we seen them glowing before?” Bruce asked, curiosity taking the best of him.

“Colored contacts,” came the response around a mouthful of pancakes. “Surprised you never noticed actually, Natashalie.”

“Like any contacts you made would be detectable to the human eye.” She rolled her eyes. Tony gave her a pleased little smile.

“Okay, hold on–” Steve looked like he was reevaluating the world as he knew it, his voice strained. “Is no one concerned with why Tony has eyes that glow periodically?”

All eyes turned back to the man in question, who was chowing down on pancakes.

“I suspected it before, but I believe Tony possesses seidr,” Thor spoke up in a jovial tone. “It is like the magic of your fairytales.”

“I wish, but no.” Tony laughed. “I have the X-gene from my mother’s side.”

“So you’re a…” Natasha started.

“Mutant,” Tony finished, looking guarded.

“That’s fucking cool , man,” Clint said. He wasn’t kidding either– he had always wondered as a kid what it would be like to have supernatural powers.

“It is fucking cool, isn’t it?” Tony’s smile returned full-force. It turned into something fond as he smiled down at his hands. What looked like a thin layer of golden metal emerged from his skin to coat the top layer, and Clint couldn’t help but gape. The rest of the Avengers weren’t much better. “I’ve been able to create and manipulate plasma ever since I reached adulthood.”

“Plasma is the most abundant substance in the universe , Tony,” Bruce said, wide-eyed. Clint’s eyes ping-ponged back to Tony, who smirked.

“Got it in one, Brucie bear.” He twisted his hand palm-up and the gold coating disappeared like liquid. In its place, a ball of golden energy crackled to life. “Plasma is a lot of what makes up stars and cosmic radiation and stuff.”

“Wait, wait, so you’re saying that you can create stars? ” Steve looked halfway to passing out.

“I mean,” Tony said, shrugging. “It’s not like I’ve ever tried. But I can manipulate the electrical conductivity of the atmosphere and disrupt weather patterns. Kind of like you, Point Break.”

Thor grinned, looking for all the world like an excitable puppy. “I am glad to work alongside you, brother.”

“Can you also control magnetic fields, then?” Bruce asked.

“Hell yeah. Magnetic, electric, you name it.” With another twist of Tony’s wrist, the ball of gold disappeared. “I can create both energy and physical barriers, generate a ton of heat, sense the makeup of a lot of objects– though mechanical ones are the easiest, and reinforce anything I make to the point that it’s basically indestructible.”

Natasha made a small aha sound in the back of her throat. “That explains so many things.”

“Wait, wait.” Clint had another, more important question. “Do you think you could fly?”

Tony’s eyes lit up. “Hell yes, I could probably use short bursts of– Wanna go try?”

“No dying!” Steve shouted after them as they raced to the elevator. “I don’t care what letter jeans you have on!”