starkingenuity | The Not So Silent Hill

Alessa stared past Eir at her body, fragile and new and like a doll instead of a mangled corpse. She pursed her lip and disappeared.

The body's eyes snapped open, and for the first time in nearly forty years, she could see.

The light was too bright. The table too cold. She felt the cold, felt the hard, but she couldn't move and people were all around her and she was struggling for air because her throat was getting tight and she remembered she remembered the last time she was in the body and she could see when she couldn't move and the flames she could see them everywhere and she wanted scream and thrash but Mommy had tied her to the floor she let herself be tied to the floor and it hurt it hurt her skin was peeling and she was seeing the world end before her and she couldn't breathe anymore there was too much smoke--

Bright blue eyes, far more vivid in color than the projection's ever were, darted around the room blindly, a blast of heat rolling off of it as its weak chest heaved in hyperventilation, the table beginning to blacken all around it even as the skin remained pristine.

At first, Tony was hopeful. He creeped just a little closer before the wriggling began. Eir was right. She was just like a newborn, her arms and legs just barely capable of moving and her fingers not quite balling up into fists. A sharp cry escaped her throat and he turned at once to Bruce the moment her eyes rolled around her head like a frightened horses.

"Gloves!" Doctors always carried them. He'd seen Bruce put then in his pocket before they left in case he had to handle Alessa's burnt body. At least they were always prepared. Tony didn't wait for Bruce to hand him a pair, he ripped the Baggie from his jacket pocket and slapped two on his hands quicker than one might think was possible before he was back at Alessa's side.

Panic attack. He knew all about those. Gloves fingers lightly took her hand in his and he rubbed his thumb against her palm.

"Lessy. Less, sweetheart, look at me. Just look at me. You're safe." He could feel his watch heating up. The push of too warm air was almost stifling. "You're with me. You're still with us and you can leave that body whenever you want! Do you feel me holding your hand? Do you remember what you told me the night you and I laid in your bed? That all you want to do is feel? Well feel me!"

It was too much. Sensation was tingling on her skin, pressing against a hand she didn’t understand anymore, lighting up pieces of her brain that hadn’t been used in decades, and she didn’t know if it was pleasant or painful but it was overwhelming and she could see her mother leaning over her with those cold eyes and tangled hair and her chest was tight and she wanted out--

Thick black smoke rose from the body. The wriggling ceased and the eyes closed.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Bruce flinched and covered his ears as the voice boomed in the room, shaking the walls and ground, before the smoke shot through the air and out the door, leaving the room far too hot with a long crack through the stone floor.

The body was no longer moving, but tears trickled from its closed eyes.

Bruce slowly moved his hands from his ears. Alessa had just had a panic attack. He never thought he’d see that happen to the stoic, perpetually expressionless little girl.

“…I think she needs a minute.”

"Uh. Yeah." Tony pulled off his gloves with a wince, the latex steaming and his fingers coated in sweat. He balled up the gloves and shoved them into his pockets before Eir returned to his side with some salve. "Hey--"

"It will soothe you. Alessa will need some time to cope with sensation that does not include pain. Her body is new but her mind is not," the healer explained and while Tony tried to understand, he really didn't. He wanted to, but he had no frame of refence for this at all.

Desperately, he looked to Bruce. "She might be yours on this one."

Bruce pursed his lips and looked at the door the smoke had gone through. It was hard to articulate, how it felt to want kind touches, but to not understand anything but pain. How it felt when people jerked their hands too quickly, when they waved around bottles, even after so many years. How it felt to be trapped in your own memories.

He didn't bother to try. Instead, he just said, "I'll talk to her once she's cooled off. She's used to dealing with things on her own. Trying to force my help right now might make it worse."

It had taken him a long time to accept help, to accept vulnerability, and he hadn't been through half of what she had been.

Though all of that did sound like it was for the best, Tony couldn't help but worry. Alessa, scared, alone, and here in Asgard could be a pretty volatile match up. Could they really trust her to go off, to hide, and not melt down part of the city?

Tony flexed his fingers, the ache leaving them, and stood again. His hair was ruffled from Alessa's rage and he looked halfway defeated.

"We can set up a place for you to stay and wait for the girl to calm herself down. There is a lovely garden and a comfortable bed there," Eir said.

Tony thanked her. He could use a rest.

Well, if she started melting down the city, they would know about it.

Bruce didn't rest. He spent his time in the garden, looking at the flowers and gently urging Tony to sleep if he didn't do so on his own. Eventually, after the city grew quiet and it had yet to be melted down, Bruce slowly walked away again.

He didn't need to look for her. He had a feeling he knew where she would be.

Alessa sat in the medical room, staring at her body, hugging her knees and alone except for the magic monitoring her vitals. Bruce didn't even need to announce his presence before she said, "It's not mine anymore."

"It may feel that way for now..." Bruce sat down next to her, even as his joints creaked and cracked. He was getting old. "...But you're going to make it yours. It always belonged to you, even if it hurts to think about."

She huffed softly, resting her chin on her knees and letting her hair fall in front of her face.

Bruce looked at the body, still and pristine. "You know, your projection isn't entirely accurate. You look different in real life."

She peered at him under her hair. "What do you mean?"

"You make yourself look older. You wash out your colors." He made a vague gesture towards the body. "You have very pretty eyes, too, when they're not closed."

She huffed again. "Doesn't matter. They're not mine."

"Then the body has very pretty eyes. How's that?" Bruce imitated her pose, hugging his knees. He wasn't quite as flexible as she was, though. "This is going to be very hard for you. I wish I could fix it all, but I can't. Neither can Tony. You're going to need to learn everything all over again. But we're going to be right here for you while you do it, okay?"

She didn't immediately respond. She slowly unfolded her legs, smoothing her skirt and staring at the body with a neutral expression.

"...Can you put my hand on your face?"

Bruce arched an eyebrow at her. "I can't put gloves on it. The healers said it wasn't safe."

"I don't care."

She didn't look at him.

"I want to know what it feels like."

He watched her carefully from the corner of his eye. She didn't look at him.

But he still couldn't say no.

"Okay. But don't tell the healers."

She disappeared from his side. Those vivid blue eyes opened up again, but this time, they were half-lidded, and he watched the chest rise and fall evenly before taking gloves out of his pocket and pulling them on carefully.

Then he knelt by her table, picking up on hand--so soft and weak and small in his--before pressing it gently to his cheek, already growing stubble.

The sandpapery skin made her hand tingle and her nerves shudder and she couldn't move--but she could leave the body at any time, and the touch had just enough rough bite to it that she could understand it somewhat. His hand she had trouble with, but his cheek felt like... she didn't know what it felt like anymore.

But it made the corner of the body's mouth twitch upwards.

Because sleep had indeed taken him, for all of half an hour, Tony had missed all but the tail end of Bruce's and Alessa's exchange. He stood in the doorway, trying not to trespass on their moment, happy just to watch without joining in. he had his time with each seperately and that the two more important people in his life bonded was top priority.

It didn't seem to matter to Tony that they had each entered his life not all that long ago. He'd known Banner for two years, since the Chitauri attack on New York, but that didn't mean that they spoke every day or even that they were in constant contact. He's known Alessa for even less time, though he'd grown attached to her, like Bruce, very early on.

Tony was a man for nonsensical relationships, it seemed.

When things were still for awhile, he crept forward towards the pair and slowly ran a hand up Bruce's back to his shoulder and squeezed.

The process might be slow going, but he knew Bruce had made a break through.

Bruce looked up at Tony, giving him a small smile, and the thumb on his cheek twitched.

The vivid blue eyes were half-lidded. Bruce carefully drew the hand from his cheek, taking note of how even just his stubble left little crisscrossing red lines on the brand new skin, and clasped it between his own healthy and adult and gloved hands. Like that, weak and hairless and sleepy, she did seem like an infant.

"Tony, settle something for us: are her real eyes prettier than she gives them credit for or not?"

She seemed to remember how to roll them perfectly well. That made Bruce smile.

"Why do I have this terrible, sinking feeling that no matter what I answer, I'm going to get in trouble?" Tony answered, smirking quietly. "So I'll just say this. You have beautiful eyes no matter what but they're so much brighter in person. Like the sky," he said, leaning slightly against Bruce.

It could take months for Alessa to find proper use of her limbs, for muscle to build, if they left her like this, but before introducing her to Extremis, it seemed incredibly important to teach her how to make sense of the world through touch before injecting her with enough power to melt down the small island Tony conveniently owned. Staying here for a few days, however, wasn't ideal.

Sure, Tony could spend a few weeks in the library, touring the city, and what have you but he didn't bring any of his stuff and he really needed his stuff.

He felt strange not being in his own space.

So long as Alessa could be ready to move, he was ready to go home.

Maybe then she'd let him touch her too without going into a panic.

"Tony's learning diplomacy. That's how we know he cares."

The corner of her mouth twitched again. Then the bright eyes closed. Her face relaxed again and the breathing evened out.

But no spirit came back out. Bruce carefully lay the hand back on the table before standing up and saying in a low voice, "I think she's sleeping."

For perhaps the first time since they had met her, she was actually sleeping. It seemed like the healing process took more out of her than they had thought.

Bruce peeled off his gloves and pressed a kiss to Tony's cheek. "Let's go to bed too."

Bed, of course, meant that Tony tried to make the moves on Bruce and while he was successful for a whole two minutes, the moment the other man's heart started to race, he was shoved away. Tony had no where to take care of his little problem, so he laid back, half undressed, in a bed made of thick quilts and furs and watched the back of Bruce's neck and shoulders as the stars washed him in silhouette.

"Sorry," he said, which might have been a first for him in bed with another person, but he genuinely was sorry for the way he couldn't keep his hands off of a man that could never fully allow himself to be touched. "It probably drives you even more crazy than it does me."

Which had to be saying something, Tony thought, because he felt seriously crazy half of the time.

It wasn't Bruce's fault.

"It probably does, but I'm used to it."

It was the only advantage Bruce had. He was used to self-control, self-denial. He could handle pulling himself away from Tony, and he could handle the deep ache of dissatisfaction as his erection pressed against his pants, doomed to eventually deflate, unfulfilled.

"I like being able to have what we do, anyway." Even if it did make him anxious that Tony toed the line so much, even if it did leave him frustrated and dissatisfied, it was better than cutting himself off from intimacy entirely. Even if they couldn't complete anything, he still liked touching and being touched, kissing and being kissed. It was intimate, it was a connection to someone he loved. He wanted that.

He rolled over again to look at Tony. "I can try to take care of you, you know. I'd like to. You just... couldn't touch me while I did it." He wanted the intimacy, even if he physically didn't get anything out of it. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel guilty and like a bad partner for not being able to give Tony what he needed in a relationship, and he would also be lying if he said he didn't crave the closeness.

A straw curl -- and they were getting so long -- was tucked behind one of Bruce's ears before Tony tilted his head into the pillow. "You'll resent me for it. I'll feel guilty for it. It's not a cycle to perpetuate." He stroked his hand down Bruce's shoulder, over his arm and to his waist where it stayed. "Not that it wouldn't be welcome, but I'm not going to take advantage of you and be some pillow princess."

Tony closed his eyes when he leaned in to kiss Bruce's frown away gently, his mouth moving to his forehead after to place another kiss at his hairline.

Tony wished he could say that sex didn't matter but it did matter. It was going to keep on mattering more and more until something gave in.

He wasn't sure how they'd handle that.

"We'll figure it out," he breathed softly. "As soon as we figure Alessa out. I promise you that."

Bruce wanted to say that he wouldn't resent Tony, that it wasn't his fault that Bruce had destroyed himself with careless experimentation and he shouldn't suffer for it. But maybe he would eventually begin to resent Tony, resent the fact that Tony needed something that he could only give a superficial semblance of, resent the fact that he would always be left frustrated. Maybe he'd eventually stop enjoying pleasuring his boyfriend if he was never able to be satisfied in return.

The thought concerned him, though. It was the main thing that made him try to avoid a relationship. Sex was important to most people, and it was the one thing Bruce couldn't give anyone.

He closed his eyes. The frown was still in his brow, creasing skin already marked by years of strain. "If we can't figure it out... I don't want this to make you resent me."

Because he was sure it would eventually. Tony was used to getting what he wanted, and after a few months, a few years, it would wear on them both. Bruce would be lying if he said that he hadn't considered telling Tony he could go outside their relationship to get the sex he needed. The thought made his stomach clench, but if that was what it took... Bruce was used to making compromises.

That was everything Tony was afraid of. That, and cheating. He'd been willing to cheat on Pepper and-- That wasn't him. He couldn't stand the thought of being that sort of guy. It was different with one night stands, but having a string of them again and coming home to sleep with Bruce--

It would eat at him. It would eat at them both.

"There's nothing we can't do," Tony said, not just pandering to his boyfriend, but genuinely believing it. "Nothing. When was the last time I steered you wrong, Banner? Actually, don't answer that."

He tried to joke, to make light of it all, but the corners of his lips tugged upwards with such horrible strain.

"Alessa first. Your little heart condition second. It'll be fun. Like couple's therapy." Or it would destroy them. Tony was going to lean towards good vibrations here.

Bruce wasn't very good at forcing smiles. Even his real ones rarely reached his eyes. Instead, he reached out, stroking Tony's hair before pulling him in for a gentle kiss.

"I love you."

He didn't say it very often. It felt strange in his mouth. It had been a phrase rarely, if ever, spoken in his home growing up, and he just never got into the habit of verbalizing that feeling that made him want to keep people close and never let them go. He was neither demonstrative nor particularly verbal about his feelings, something that had grated on many exes in the past.

But he wanted to say it. Wanted to, just in case they were wrong and they wouldn't be able to fix it. Just in case they had made a mistake in opening this door in the first place.

They might be able to fix it. They might. He tried to think about that instead.

There was a moment where all of Tony's muscles stiffened before he relaxed and his smile brightened his eyes. It was a treat to have the words leave Bruce's lips and sure, they were just words, but Tony liked to hear them. They made his heart flutter in a way no one had ever been able to do before.

It was why he knew this was worth fighting for.

He knew it in his bones. Another kiss was passed between them, Tony pressing his thumb to Bruce's chin before he did it. Soft. Hot, but not demanding. There was no need to have another flurry of 'I need a minute!'s thrown around again.

Tony pressed his leg between Bruce's to nuzzle in as close as possible and held him as if it might make the grass greener or the stars fall out of the sky. Tony was a miracle worker. And with Bruce helping him, how could they fail?

"I love you too," he said after soaking it all in. "Which is why I know you need to sleep. Alessa might not enjoy the experience being teleported home tomorrow."

"Mmmhmm. The last thing we need it to try dealing with a cranky little girl without enough sleep."

Hopefully, Tony would get some sleep too. Bruce fretted about how little he rested, but to be fair, Bruce tended to fret about a lot of things.

He fell into a fitful sleep. Nightmares were frequent. It was nice to be able to wake up in someone's arms, though.

By the time he woke up and it was just barely daytime, a familiar projection was crouched at the foot of their bed, staring at them both with a neutral expression. "We should explore before we leave," was the first thing out of Alessa's mouth.

No one understood knocking anymore.

Tony actually moved aside the blanket in his sleep to allow Alessa to 'crawl' in between them. It made little sense, but there was little of the interaction Tony and Alessa had that did. Since their first arrival at the Tower, Tony had treated Alessa as if her projection was flesh and blood. Inviting her to lay with them was just another aspect of it.

"We should. We got free food yesterday," he yawned and scooted over, the pillow still warm where he'd had his head. "What do you want to see?"

He'd been asleep for just under an hour which, really, was fairly decent for him. He could function on that with a few cups of extra strong black coffee, he decided.

"Art? Buildings--" He yawns, bringing moisture to his eyes. "The fountains? What do little girls think is fun?"

“I don’t know. I’ve never traveled before.” Alessa flopped down between them, her presence radiating a comfortable amount of warmth, like a tiny space heater. “What do you guys do when you travel?”

“I spend my time hiding from law enforcement and giving healthcare to people who haven’t seen a doctor in years.” Bruce yawned as well, burrowing into his covers. Mmmm. Asgardians were onto something with all this fur. “But I don’t think we have the time to set up a clinic.”

“I’d be bad at that anyway.” Alessa wiggled in place, imitating Bruce’s attempts to get comfortable. “I’d keep telling people to stop being stupid and suck it up.”

“Even if they had something like a gangrenous limb?”

“Then I’d chop it off and hit them if they cried.”

Bruce let out a half-chuckle. Considering he’d chopped off multiple limbs of hers without anesthesia while she sat quietly, he completely believed her. “Maybe doctoring isn’t in your future.”

"Maybe instead of hitting you could give them a stern talking to," Tony said, unhelpfully, accepting a glance or a smirk or a rebuttal from Banner before he added: "That's why I'm not a doctor either." Engineers rarely bothered to go beyond their Masters and while he did hold a doctorate in physics, he didn't insist on the title being added to his name. Mr. Stark was good enough for his dad and Mr. Stark would be good enough for him.

When Alessa got them up and Tony spent his half an hour primping in front of a massive polished metal mirror and messing with Asgard's version of in ground plumbing, they headed off to see the city one last time.

Tony couldn't help but fantasize, just a little, of holding Alessa's hand to cross the street or watching Bruce fix her hair or tie her shoe. Alessa was old enough not to need any of that, but the idea of being a family man had hit Tony very quickly, very hard. He still wasn't sure what to do with that when he clung so fiercely to the playboy mindset and the bachelor lifestyle.

They headed down to the water, Viking longships sailing serenely passed the city, when Tony decided they should find a place to eat.

He wasn't sure why he was expecting silverware at the little tavern on the river they picked.

It was strange to watch how Tony changed around Alessa. He was less harsh with her than he could be with others. He was less flippant and selfish. He had really taken to the idea of fatherhood in a way Bruce had never expected him to, but that was okay. More than okay, actually. He had always wanted to be a father.

Bruce didn't have the same longing to touch Alessa. He was used to not being able to touch people, especially the people he cared about, and he was never one to initiate a lot of affection anyway. Instead, he kept his hands in his pockets, walking with them at a relaxed pace and taking the time to soak in the sights, watch the people stare and giggle at them, take note of how clean and beautiful everything was...

When they sat down at the tavern and got their food, Bruce found himself looking down at Alessa contemplatively, who, to her eternal bafflement, still had food and drink put in front of her. "We should get you something here. A souvenir. Maybe a hairpin?"

She looked at him with one raised eyebrow. "In case you didn't notice, I don't have actually have hair."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Hair grows back, and you'll need something to keep it out of your face."

"What about a suit of armor?" Okay, so Tony wasn't so practical. "Those women guards...?" Well, he had been, until Bruce Banner strolled into his life (well, hid in the back of the room behind a lot of chairs with all exits in sight), been very interested in what women had to offer and old habits died hard. He still looked. He didn't touch, but he couldn't help but look. Then again, Alessa was a child."Maybe a sword? In case you get tired of fire blasting people? It could be a nice change of pace."

Tony himself would have loved a sword at her age! And probably accidentally chopped his ear off.

Being served a truncheon of crusty bread and a thick creamy soup poured inside of it with the largest mug of ale he'd ever seen (including the ones at the feast), Tony glanced at the massive knife it had come with and grinned. "Okay, maybe not a sword. A hairpin's nice though. And I can always build you armor if you really wanted some." He broke a piece off of the bread bowl and dipped it in the soup. "Oooh, or one of those ships?"

Even if Bruce wasn't looking at him, Tony reacted as if he was getting an eyeroll.

"What? I think those ships are cool."

In retrospect, maybe Bruce shouldn't have mentioned spoiling their little girl in front of the spoiling king. "A ship? What would she do with a ship?" Bruce was definitely rolling his eyes. "She only just got a body back, and what do you want to do? You want to give her a sword or a ship."

"I don't know. A sword sounds pretty neat." Bruce gave Alessa a side-glance, noting how her signature crooked smile was starting to form.

"You don't need any weapons. You're violent enough as it is."

"But I might need one to protect myself from the evils of the world."

"Believe me, you don't need any help with that." Bruce rolled his eyes again. He had seen her blow up far too many things to think she needed a weapon on top of it all. "Maybe we could look at books instead. I don't know if their alphabet is the same as ours, though."

Of course, Bruce noticed it when Tony looked at women. Frankly? He didn't mind a bit. He trusted Tony to be faithful, or at the very least to be honest if he wasn't, so he didn't care about straying eyes.

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Ignore that.

Ignored!

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