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One day, the world grew dark. Clouds thick as steel engulfed the earth, and relentless onslaughts of formidable forces from unseen lands ensnared the earth. After years of protecting humankind as Avengers, all it took was one battle to destroy them. Not one member of the team agreed with another, made worse by having no support from the CROWN. Kingdoms world-wide demanded accountability yet refused to accept their own responsibility, and even though the threat was subdued and the world was defended, no one came to defend the Avengers. In the end, they all went separate ways, by choice or otherwise. Now, the Avengers are no more.
***
Tony has nothing left. His family has long since passed, and the love of his life died a mere years ago as well. His fortune has been seized while he’s being investigated and tried before the King and Queen to be made accountable for actions taken while he donned the Iron Suit. His friends, the few he has left, are sequestered to their homes until the CROWN have exhausted their retaliation efforts. Newly deprived of his armor, he doesn't even reach his workbench to make defensive preparations before an elite team of thieves come for him, breaching his home, and taking him captive.
Thoughts of his lost lover fill his mind before everything goes dark.
Did I black out, or might I have been drugged? he thinks, vision hazy, and head swimming in an impossible vortex. He’s trying to look around, but despite the pathetically sheer blindfold that covers his eyes, it’s still difficult to see anything in what he thinks is a dark, barren room. There are no smells he recognizes, and no sound either. It’s quiet. Why is it so quiet?
Before he can think to answer the question, his ears are overwhelmed by the sounds of explosives. He lurches from where he’s sitting, which he now realizes is the floor, but he’s bound at the ankles and wrists so he can’t move very effectively. Instead of jumping to his feet as intended, he falls pathetically on his side. The ground is vibrating from detonations, and he thinks he hears a shout or two, but nothing more. The sounds are growing closer, rapidly, and while he debates whether to brace for impact or to pray to a higher being instead, a massive explosion hits the wall.
He’s hit with some rocks. He feels them bounce off of his body, and other than having a startling effect, he’s not hurt. But, damn, does he wish he could see, and that his mind wasn’t so foggy-
There are footsteps, heavy and fast, headed right toward him. He thinks he sees dark boots before he feels himself be man-handled off the ground and thrown over the shoulder of his newest abductor.
The captor begins to run, and even though Tony can’t be sure it’s not, he guesses this newest development is not a rescue. He gives his best effort to squirm and fight, yelling with all the air in his lungs, which turns out isn’t much, and now he’s fighting just to breathe as his diaphragm bounces off his captor’s shoulder.
Whoever it is that’s stolen him like a small sack of potatoes is impossibly strong, because they’re maintaining a swift pace and don’t seem at all inconvenienced by his pathetic protest.
“What - the - fuck -!” he tries to shout in between strides, but he receives no response. He realizes they are outside now, because he can smell damp earth, and the air is no longer musty. Even in a compromised position, it’s already gotten a bit easier to breathe, so he tries to shout again.
As soon as he does, he’s swiftly hurled to the ground.
He emits a loud “Ugh!” upon impact, even though he realizes the person who threw him also broke his fall. The ground is uneven and feels like he’s atop a pile of broken sticks.
“Quiet ,” a deep, familiar voice hisses.
As quickly as he considers obeying, he decides not to, and loudly asks, “What reason have you to compel me?”
A gloved hand descends upon his mouth.
“Because if you’re quiet, I shall untie you.”
“I rather prefer to be loud and tied up than quiet and unrestrained.”
His captor says nothing, and Tony lamentably thinks that his dead lover would have found his quip amusing. Perhaps the hand muffled his response, or perhaps this person has no levity about them. He feels the bindings on his ankles snap, followed by his wrists. Limb by limb, he feels strong hands run along him with gentle squeezing pressure, perhaps to search for weapons, which seems odd considering he was the one who was bound and blindfolded.
He tries to fight, but feels weary, and the next thing he knows his wrists are being tied together again. This time, the binding is more comfortable, but still unbreakable.
“Can you manage a walk?” the voice says, but it’s not really a question. How does he know that voice?
“Not with this blindfold,” he retorts. “Remove it and I’ll show you just what I can do.”
“Thought you liked to be restrained.” The voice is gruff now and he feels himself forcefully pulled into a bridal-style hold.
“You would rather carry me than remove my blindfold?”
“Suits me fine.”
So, they must know each other somehow, as he clearly has reason to conceal his identity. Tony contemplates the familiar tone, but his head is still rushing all the while and it’s a challenge to focus. He must indicate as such, because he feels the man stop and set him down again. “Drink,” he says, low and soft. Something cool and smooth comes to his lips, and he accepts slow sips of water. The hydration is pure and refreshing, and without control over the container he greedily leans forward for more, gulping loudly as he swallows. He feels the bottle move away and he gasps for air, suddenly aware of how parched he’s been. After his breath steadies, he feels the rim of the container return to his lips, and he hastily accepts more.
“Better?”
His mind is coming back into focus, he’s feeling more steady.
“Yeah,” he huffs, and for a moment, it feels good to sit on the cool ground, breathing in the damp scent of moss and earth. He hears birds chirping in the distance, and through the thin gauze of his blindfold, he can determine a soft light is beginning to glow, likely from an early sunrise.
He feels a fumbling and tugging at the blindfold, and in a moment, his sight is finally free. Eyes focus on the man before him.
“Nomad ,” he says regrettably. Formerly known as Captain America. He no longer dons the mantle, but still conceals his face with a dark cowl, as his former identity did. “So, is this a rescue, or is it not?”
“That’s entirely up to you.”
“How so?” His question has bite.
“It depends on how you see it.” Nomad tilts his head to the side and gives a wry smile, if you can even call it that.
It’s times like these that Tony misses Steve the most.
Not that his deceased lover, former knight of the SHIELD, could have saved him from this. It sits heavy in his heart that the man he loved with all that he could give is gone, and the grief gnaws at him fiercely that he never had the chance to bid farewell. Lately, this feeling has evolved into emotions that make his heart stop. Accepting his own mortality and understanding he will never see Steve before his own demise makes the end seem all the more terrifying. His lover died alone, and soon, so will he.
His skin runs cold and a lump forms in his throat. Swallowing it won’t be easy.
“Up.” Nomad commands, in the same tone that his former teammate used to employ. For a moment his mind fools him into thinking it’s Captain America speaking to him, just like he used to do mere months ago. “Will you walk? Or shall I continue to carry you?” The twisted expression returns, and Tony thinks he might break.
Tony allows Nomad to bring him to his feet. He’s momentarily unsteady on the broken branches before the blood rushes to his feet.
“No need to be excited, I’ll walk.”
His balance is compromised by his hands bound together while walking over slippery rocks and rolling sticks through a steep, dense forest. He takes in the scenery, wondering if he can solve where they are, and equally wondering if it would matter if he could.
After a few too many missteps, Nomad grabs Tony by the bicep, a firm grasp that helps quicken their pace. Their bodies brush against one another, and Tony shivers as he feels Nomad’s breath caress his cheek.
They are quiet for a long time, Tony out of protest, and he wonders if Nomad’s silence is due to guilt over his betrayal of their former team. He reconsiders this thought immediately. The stories go on without end, and detail the robberies, crusades, and murders Nomad has committed now that he answers to no one. They say he’s power-hungry, and will burn entire cities to the ground to get anything he wants. They are the sort of tales that Tony almost couldn’t bring himself to believe of his former comrade, but seeing him now, he’s beginning to understand. There exists remorse over the evil path Nomad has taken.
Suspense starts to gnaw its way through his stomach and the acid keeps burning at his throat. Finally, he breaks his silent protest in an attempt to ease his anxiety.
“Where are you taking me? I’ll assume it’s not a surprise team reunion.”
"I’m taking you as my prisoner,” he growls.
“Thought you said it was my choice if this were a rescue.”
“I did.”
“Being your prisoner hardly sounds like a rescue.”
“Well, then, there you have it. I’m sure others would disagree with you, but you see it how you will.”
“You’ve killed thousands since the Avengers were dismantled. Burned countless cities to the ground. Hospitals, schools, orphanages. How could anyone covet being your prisoner?”
Nomad grows quiet for a moment before responding. “Is that what you’ve heard about me, then? And what do you think of it?”
“I think I no longer know who you are.”
“Perhaps you never knew me to begin with. Have you considered the alternative should I have left you? You don’t know what those thieves desired. I’ve saved you from your fate.”
“And damned me to an even worse future at your side.”
“If that’s how you see it.”
“That is how I see it! Of course it is! How could I not?” He digs his heels into the earth and pulls back with a force that’s disappointingly no match for his captor. “Why are you doing this?”
Nomad jerks him towards his chest. “I have use for you,” he utters, and Tony rolls his eyes. “But I’d be amenable to a different arrangement. I’ll take your hand in marriage, if you’d prefer it.”
“Prefer it to what? Imprisonment?” He spits the words like ash from his mouth.
“I have a great deal to gain by keeping you captive, all to myself.” He’s whispering in his ear, dark and low, and Tony can hear the rough edge of tension in his voice. “I’ll tuck you away, keep you in the highest tower of my castle, and no one will ever get to you, unless I allow them to do so. The world will be so envious, I’ll gain access to the darkest markets, be revered by all the Cabal.”
Tony’s furious. It’s all a game, he’s just a trophy, useless to all beyond the thrill of the hunt. “Why me?” He almost doesn’t dare to ask.
“You’re Tony Stark.” His name sounds seductive on his tongue in such a way that his stomach churns. “Brilliant scientist. Former Avenger. Last of the Stark name. Delectable in every imaginable way.”
“And you actually believe locking me in your tower is worth your time?”
“You are worth my time, my heart’s gleam.”
The endearment slips off Nomad’s tongue as if he’s said it a thousand times. Tony’s eyes water at the name he once recognized as his own when spoken by his true love.
“There are alternatives I consider satisfactory,” he drawls as Tony’s eyes continue to well with tears. “You will not just confirm my status, but will bring me unimaginable wealth. I’m no fool, I know your assets are no longer under your sway, but mark me, that’s of no consequence to the slew of fine buyers who are lining up at the very whisper of your name.”
“You’re more deplorable than the tales describe. I never imagined the good Captain would be capable of such atrocities.” He can barely choke the words out. He’s seething, and shattered in a way he hadn’t thought possible, but would rather die than let Nomad know how broken he really is.
Nomad doesn’t respond, and jerks his vise-like grip on his arm to compel Tony to restart a swift stride. The march is growing treacherous as the forest is thinning and slippery sheets of rock are exposed from the earth. They ascend a mountain, and now Tony is struggling to maintain pace with his superhuman captor. Nomad doesn’t slow, and continues to pull him along no matter how awkwardly Tony stumbles.
“If you are disinclined to the latter two options, the former still remains.”
Tony can’t believe what he’s hearing. He allows his legs to give way from underneath him, and falls to his knees on the jagged ground.
“You’re too late, Nomad,” he says with a mirthless laugh, and before he can stop himself, his heart spills it's thoughts carelessly. “Three years too late. A different time, perhaps, I might have even considered a casual tryst. I’ll admit there is allure to your present rogue aesthetic. But now, there’s no hope for me. I fell in love. Deeply. He was true...and he’s dead. The wounds remaining on my heart will never heal. Even to save my life I couldn’t pretend to marry you. So, tell me, what other choice is there?”
Nomad considers him carefully before stating, “Love is not essential to a marriage.”
“There was a time when I would agree with you. But not any longer can I humor such a despicable notion.”
Nomad hesitates, opens his mouth, then turns his head quickly away. In a flash, Nomad grabs Tony and throws him over his shoulder and sprints eastward along the mountain. Tony hears the roar of an oncoming threat, and tries to resist Nomad’s hold, but to no avail.
The antagonizing forces descend upon them, quickly surrounding them. Nomad unsheathes a parrying dagger with his left hand, and in an artful choreography, begins to lay waste to their attackers. Tony watches the flashes of movement while upside down, disoriented from Nomad’s incredible movements. The dozens of attackers are fierce and unrelenting, and as Nomad is beginning to falter, Tony sees his opportunity.
He throws his body weight and slips from Nomad’s grasp. Crashing to the ground, he rolls down the mountainside until he can catch himself by bracing his forearms and legs rigidly. Tony scrambles to his feet and bolts. He doesn’t care where he goes. He won’t consent to Nomad’s offers. He would prefer not to die at the hands of his former teammate, and decides that to die at the hands of any other would be less degrading, so he runs.
Tony’s erratic attempt at escape is short lived, as something sharp grabs at his ankle and he crashes to the ground. He rolls to his side, attempting to view his attacker, and in a flash of movement sees a scythe coming down on him. He hears an impossibly distinct cracking of bone before his vision is obscured. He instinctively tries to move to no avail, and it takes a moment to register that the weight pinning him down is Nomad.
Tony sees blood, hears a scream of agony, but it’s all happening too fast, his mind is still bleary from all he’s endured and he can’t track it all.
He feels Nomad’s weight leave his body, and instantly, he’s being pulled into his captor’s arms once again to curl against his chest.
Nomad takes off running at lightning speed, and Tony is able to glance around to see no signs of their attackers. He looks up and sees there is a crack in the cowl from where the crimson drips, and Tony isn’t so incapacitated that he can’t understand that Nomad saved his life, only to take control of it again.
“You must find us shelter at once!” He orders. Nomad is staggering in his gait, and is slowing a bit. “You’ll kill us both if you don’t!” Nomad indicates to continue his path. Still bound at the wrists, Tony awkwardly wraps his hands around Nomad’s jaw and pulls his face to meet his gaze. “Listen to what I say!”
Nomad finally slows, and Tony spots a small opening under sheets of rock. “It would be wise to shelter in the cave,” he advises, and Nomad carries them closer, releasing Tony cautiously to the ground. “Come,” he instructs, ducking under the low threshold to enter the space.
He discovers the cave affords plenty of room to walk about, and is only mostly enclosed. A large portion is exposed, revealing a waterfall flowing from overhead, and a breathtaking view overlooking a lush valley of trees. He turns to see Nomad stagger in, blood still flowing from his head, and he tumbles to the ground. It’s clear he’s suffering, and Tony drops to his knees beside him to assess his injury.
“You must remove this so I can help.” Tony reaches for Nomad’s face, but he hisses and recoils. “Come, now, this is no time for that. Take off your armor!” He’s able to see the impossible break in the cowl, and is impressed that the piece hasn’t yet fallen away.
“No,” he growls.
“How very typical of you. You realize if you die here you’ll have lost everything. I’ll go free and your name will be forgotten for all of time. Is that what you desire?”
“‘m not going to die,” he groans, and attempts to bat away at Tony’s insistent hands. “I’m enhanced with miracle healing abilities, lest you forget.” His words are becoming a bit slurred.
“Head wounds won’t heal even for you if you restrict your body in this way. Nomad, let go of it!” His persistence is growing more urgent as he continues to witness the loss of blood.
“You cannot wish to help me.” It’s a soft utterance that strikes Tony’s heart, and in this moment he can so clearly see the man he once considered an ally.
“We’ve all become that which we no longer recognize.”
Tony extends his arms, and Nomad extends his blade to sever the binding. His breathing is strained, and he remains propped on one arm laying on the ground.
Tony's hands tremble as he reaches to take the fractured cowl. The crack is horrifying, and he knows it’s a miracle the man is alive. He’s never seen the Captain’s face before, and the realization strikes his heart like lightning in a moment that he has no time to waste, so he proceeds despite his hesitance. When his hands rest upon the broken headpiece and his fingers begin to wrap around the edges, Nomad’s eyes meet his with a wild, horrified expression. And still, he’s not resisting, even though Tony now feels his terror as if it were his own.
He gives a firm tug, and pulls the severed piece carefully from Nomad’s head.
When it’s completely off, he freezes. His body is shaking now, and he can’t believe what he sees.
Steve Rogers.
Steve .
Love of his life. Alive before his very eyes.
Nomad - no, Steve - is covered in a trail of blood. His hair is matted and dirty and hanging over his left eye. He looks a bit weathered, but has the same youthful, spirited glow he always had.
Finally, Steve speaks first.
“Tony, I’m so-”
It’s all he needs to hear before he covers Steve’s mouth with his own, kissing him with all of the force that three years of thinking one’s lover is dead will amount to. There’s the coppery taste of blood, but he doesn’t care, it’s Steve, it’s Steve, and he’s kissing him, and his arms are wrapping around him, and he’s starting to moan-
Oh.
That’s less of a joyous moan that he initially thought.
Tony pulls back quickly to look at the wound properly, but there’s blood and he can’t see. He takes off his outer robe and begins to dab at the wound. Steve hisses, and recoils a bit, but it’s only to reach into his bag and retrieve a jar of water. He offers it to Tony, who accepts it, and after pouring a bit on his jacket, he allows the remainder of the water to run down Steve’s face.
All in all, after rinsing the skin and wiping away the dried outline of blood to the best of his abilities, the wound itself isn’t terrible any longer, and before his eyes, it’s nearly finished healing.
It’s a quiet moment, tender, but the atmosphere is still tentative and thick. Steve clears his throat and speaks again.
“I’m so sorry, Tony.”
“I believed you dead.”
“I know.”
“And now you’re Nomad ? Rather, you're Captain America? All that time we were serving together, galivanting around as Avengers, and you kept this from me?”
“I’m so sorry, really, I am-”
“So you say!”
“Tony, believe me, if I had been able to choose any alternative, I would have.”
“Why did you not?”
Steve takes a long, deep sigh, one Tony knows too well, like he so often does when he contemplates his life’s greatest regrets. “What you know of the story of Captain America is mostly true. I was an underdog indentured for Project Rebirth, helped to end the great war, and went down with my aircraft for several decades.” He nods once, which Tony reciprocates to indicate that he follows. “The SHIELD found me almost a year before the world met Captain America again. They didn’t know if I was stable, capable to return to duty. They appointed me as a knight of the SHIELD, and afforded me a mostly provincial life. Then,”
“You met me.”
“Yeah.” Steve takes Tony’s hand in his own, and has that stupid grin on his face, the one he always had when he was about to say something romantic. “That was the greatest year of my life, my heart’s gleam.”
“Then you died.” Tony’s words seem to bring Steve pain.
“The SHIELD was plotting the return of the mantle, unbeknownst to me. But the world was under attack so suddenly, and before I knew of it, they said to you I was killed…” Tears start to well in his eyes, and all the anger Tony was holding melts instantly. Steve is a victim, just like him. “They spun you their web of lies before I was informed. Beat me to it, to ensure their lie would remain. When we fought alongside each other all those years, I wanted to divulge the truth with every fiber of my soul. But when you appeared content, on the surface, I witnessed your capacity to manage, and I thought I would be so selfish to take your life away from you. I believed that the lie was better for you, better for me, better for all.” Steve tilts his head back and closes his eyes. Tears run down his face, mixing with the remaining dried blood to turn to long, crimson streaks. “It was a mistake. I regretted it every day, even if I thought you were better off. I could never let you go.”
Tony takes a hand from Steve’s hold and wipes away the tears before he’s leaning forward and pressing feather-light kisses to Steve’s cheeks, to his forehead, to his chin, his neck, everywhere he can reach. “I never stopped loving you, Tony,” he feels Steve whisper against his lips.
“I never stopped loving you, Steve,” he whispers back before he’s kissing him again, long and slow, savoring every taste, every sensation of the intimacy for which he’s longed.
“All this anger and regret,” Tony says carefully, “is what drove you to such malevolence?”
“No,” he whispers. “I’m not the man they say I am. I refused to agree to the SHIELD’s desires once the attacks ceased. In retaliation, to ensure my exile, they’ve spread stories, committed atrocities in my name. I’ve been on a relentless quest to end their plight. It seems the SHIELD are not who they claim to be.”
“Steve…” Tony can’t take it, all that Steve has suffered, all he has lost and sacrificed. He’s been a victim, he sees it now, and while he knows he’s been hurt by these lies as well, he knows his pain is not unique. “Why maintain the lie, then, when you rescued me?”
An unknowable emotion clouds Steve’s face, and he hesitates before responding. “I did not know how you would receive me. I thought it better to maintain the lie until I was assured of your fortitude to accept the truth.”
“Your wicked persona seems to have penetrated your sensible heart, has it not, Steve?” Tony squeezes Steve’s hand fiercely. “But I forgive you, my love. I’ll always forgive you.”
“How can I ever make you know how sorry I am?” Tony can see how broken Steve is, keeping this secret has clearly driven him mad. He’s unhinged, Tony can see that, too, but his heart is still the one he loves all these years later.
“Show me.” He speaks the dare into Steve’s mouth, beginning to climb into his lap.
Steve lets go of the hand he’s been holding to wrap his robust arms around and pull Tony the rest of the way into his lap.
“I’ll spend the rest of my days doing just that, if you will have me for your own, my heart’s gleam.” Tony doesn't care any longer. The secrets and deceptions are meaningless compared to being held by the lover he had believed he lost.
Steve kisses Tony slow and deep, but Tony is desperately needy, and rolls his body against him. Kisses trail down his neck, and Tony groans. The small contact of their skin is overwhelming, a sensation he never dreamed he’d experience again, the memories of such intimacy he cherished immensely. The thought that he can have this now, he can have this again, he can have more is enough to flow through his whole body and fuel him endlessly.
Tony doesn’t hold back, and uses his body to inspire greater romance in Steve’s heart. He traces along the edges of where Steve’s armor meets his skin, and Steve responds by removing it skillfully, barely interrupting their escalating kisses. He feels Steve’s presumptuous hands roam under his shirt’s hem, exploring his chest reverently, until he demands its removal, as well as his pants soon after.
He happily maintains control of Steve’s seduction until Steve’s waist is free of his pants. When they are fully exposed in the day’s fading orange glow, Tony’s enticing reign ends, and Steve overpowers him, utterly devouring every inch of his being.
Feeling his lover inside of him breathes life into the corners of his heart that he believed to have died alongside Steve. Now he knows the doors were simply closed, and he was waiting for Steve to expose them to the light once again. Skin against skin, sharing one breath, intimately joined as one, Tony feels the space between his shattered pieces disappear as the shards forge together. There's no room for emptiness. He is whole again.
Grinding voraciously, Tony guides Steve to his release, and Steve indulgently reciprocates.
Steve shifts to pull Tony to rest upon his chest, and they lay in a wanton entanglement of limbs. He’s sated, utterly exhausted, floating in bliss, and from the expression gracing Steve’s face, it’s requited. But, Tony still has a question pulling at his mind.
“What is to be our fate, my love?” He traces designs absentmindedly across Steve’s bare skin.
“The SHIELD doesn’t control me any longer,” he says with a soft tone of awe. “They’ve told their stories of Captain America and Nomad, and I refusing to acquiesce any longer. I’m free now. We can run away, and I’ll never let you go.”
Steve holds Tony tightly, pressing his lips into his hair. A pang of worry strikes him, threatening his newfound serenity.
“I have nothing to offer you,” he laments.
“You have all that I need...and, I have a great deal to gain by keeping you captive, all to myself, you know.” He speaks salaciously with a thrilling edge of darkness Tony didn’t think possible for Steve to possess. “I’ll tuck you away, keep you safe, in the highest tower of my castle, and no one will ever get to you,”
Tony moves to capture Steve’s eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “Unless you allow them to do so?”
“Precisely. The world will be so envious of you and me, and we will have the one thing most coveted by all the world.”
“Tell me,” he begs.
“True love.”