Disclaimer: (Insert the usual "I own nothing recognizable" waffle.)
Warning: Basically, real life shit happens, and I will write about it in as much detail as I deem necessary. Read with discretion and at your own risk.
Notice: Pay attention – future chapters are likely to jump back and forth between times and locations and POVs. Let me know if it gets too confusing.
In Our Bones: Prequel
April 24th, 2009. Afghanistan.
"Hey, Dumbass."
The voice made Tony flinch in his sleep.
"Hey! Dumbass!"
This time, he startled awake and bolted upright, throwing off the thin rag that had passed as a blanket. He peered through the dimness at the narrow slit in the door, then rose and padded cautiously closer, past his still-sleeping cell mate.
"... The fuck are you doing here, Dipshit?!"
The door opened noiselessly, just a crack, and the figure - just as short and stocky as Tony, with the same messy dark hair - slipped inside.
"The fuck does it look like I'm doing?!" he hissed. "Honestly! Leave you alone for a few years and look what happens."
"Had to get your attention somehow," Tony griped halfheartedly, his eyes never leaving the smaller man as he immediately set to work and whisked around the cell, snatching papers and bits of equipment and stuffing it all in a little hip pouch.
Yinsen was awake now, watching them with baffled curiosity from his pallet.
"Stark?" he asked softly.
Both men glanced at him, but it was Tony who answered. "Apparently we're being rescued."
"Well, you," the newcomer corrected, "but I guess suspicious doctor guy can come, too."
"Thanks," Yinsen said dryly.
"Don't mention it." Finished with his whirlwind packing, the young man came to a stop in front of Tony. "Ready?" he asked.
The displaced billionaire scanned the other man's face searchingly, holding his gaze for a moment that almost seemed to stretch interminably. Then, reassured, his face split into a grin and he pulled the other man into a brief, tight embrace.
"Nearly," he said, turning to pull the sheet off the scattered metal components on the workbench. "Help me get this on. It's not quite finished yet, but it'll have to do."
"I'll get the computer going," Yinsen added, scrambling towards the monitor as the other two pairs of hands worked in deft coordination to assemble Tony's armour, barely a word of instruction exchanged between them.
"Good," Tony declared, both tasks wrapping up, "Now we're ready." He nodded decisively, not a hint of hesitation or distrust on his face. "Get us out of here, Harry."