TITLE: DARK PARADISE
SUMMARY:His phone slipped from his suddenly weak grip and went crashing down.
All he could hear was the white noise buzzing in his ears, only one word echoing clearly in his mind.
Bruce.
WARNINGS: SLASH
RELATIONSHIPS: Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne (WayneStark)
The only reason Tony did not notice it at first was because he had been busy fending off multiple hackers who had been attempting to infiltrate the SI servers. Normally, Tony, along with JARVIS, could have taken care of it in an instant, but that day, unfortunately, the hackers had decided to grow some brains and had used their rare ingenuity.
Tony had finally kicked them out of his systems, traced where they had been holed up, found who had employed them and left a self-designed lovely virus behind as a thoughtful gift. It was then that JARVIS, who had previously been muted, showed him the news coverage.
"-a potent bomb. Batman took it over to the ocean where it subsequently detonated. There is no sign of the masked vigilante. The Coast Guard, along with the citizens of Gotham, who had volunteered, are undertaking searches of the deep waters, hoping to find a glimpse of the man whom the entire city of Gotham have taken to calling as 'The Dark Knight'. Stay tuned for more updates."
His phone slipped from his suddenly weak grip and went crashing down.
Tony barely noticed JARVIS saying something or the other. All he could hear was the white noise buzzing in his ears, only one word echoing clearly in his mind.
Bruce.
In a flurry of movement, Tony brought up the hologram screen and tried to access the life vitals that would always be transmitted from the tracker that he had created, tweaked and personally administered to one of the most important persons in his life. But in his panic, his hands were shaking too badly that he couldn't operate the controls properly.
Silently, JARVIS brought up the vital signs.
A wordless keen tore out of Tony's throat as his knees buckled out from under him, sending him to the floor. His eyes, wide and filled with horror and denial, were fixed on the 'No Signal Detected' sign flashing on the screen, right below the flat line that was supposed to represent the heart's electric activity.
Tony was not aware of how long he was immobile on the floor, having retreated deep into his mind, unable to deal with the utter grief and heartbreak. He briefly surfaced on feeling soft, steady hands coaxing him to stand, slowly leading him out somewhere, and hearing a soothing voice, Pepper, his mind supplied, that had the faint hints of tears and pain winding around the words.
He abstractly felt himself being tucked into the bed, a flutter of a kiss on his brow, a shaking hand combing through his hair. With a sigh, Tony sank into sleep, his dreams filled with anguish and the sense of unbearable loss.
Unknown to him, Pepper and Rhodey, along with JARVIS, held a silent vigil over the sleeping form of their friend and family, his whimpers and low, pained cries wrenching at their hearts.
For four days, Tony worked non-stop, without sleep or food. He built algorithms upon algorithms, trying to locate a dead man. He combed through the CCTV cameras, all the news videos, everything. He did everything that he could do to find anything about Bruce Wayne, who had been listed as a casualty in the terror attacks in Gotham, or Batman, who was still listed as missing even though everyone had lost all hope of finding him alive.
There was no sign, at all.
Tony clenched his fists in his hair, pulling harshly, his vision swimming in front of him, due to tears or fatigue, he couldn't tell.
"Tony," a voice, so familiar that it hurt, entreated. "You need to rest."
Slowly, hardly daring to believe his own senses, Tony turned his head.
There was no one there.
"JARVIS," Tony called, his voice breaking. "Was there anyone other than me in this room just now?"
"No, sir," JARVIS answered, worry tinting his tone.
Tony breathed out. He had heard him so very clearly, as though he had been standing right next to him, like he used to, admonishing him for over-working and not taking care of himself.
"Bruce, please," Tony whispered, closing his eyes and shutting the world out.
It started with the voices.
"Tony, please, you must eat."
"I love you, you know that."
"It's time to rest, Tony. You've been in the lab for ages!"
"Tony, please put down that gun."
Next, it was the flickers of a shape at the corner of his eyes that, one day, shaped into the person he missed the most, the one person he had truly loved with his jagged heart.
Tony never told anyone that he was actively hallucinating Bruce Wayne, his dead lover. Already, the others were walking on eggshells around him. He did not want to worry them even more. Pepper and Rhodey dropped by frequently to check on him. He was pretty sure JARVIS was reporting to them since there was no other explanation for why both of them had stormed into his lab, the other day, pale-faced with barely hidden terror and impotent fury and taken away the firearms he had hidden there.
The Avengers did not know what had happened, only that something unspeakable had. They did not ask about it nor did they watch him warily. Someone from the team was always around him though, giving him silent companionship and standing beside him in solidarity.
Tony felt a distant fondness for his team.
His Bruce, the hallucination, frequently talked to him, making comments about everything just like he used to do when they were alone (when he was alive), with only the other for company. Tony made sure that he did not talk back when there was someone else in the room with him.
Nights were something he both yearned for and dreaded in equal measure. He was plagued with the memories of their time together, the way Bruce's eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed genuinely, how he would look upon Tony with an inscrutable look (that Tony learned later was love) the passion in his voice when he talked about his city, the wistful tone when reminiscing about his childhood and just about everything Bruce.
Tony missed Bruce terribly, with a fierce longing that made his very soul ache.
If he took reckless risks, when out in the field, putting himself on the line needlessly, well... that's between him and the spectre that haunted him. Bruce, even in the form of a hallucination he was perfect, gods why did you leave me whywhywhy, watched him with worried eyes and a sad smile, always whispering that it was all fine, that he was going to be fine (Tony wanted to scream. He did not WANT to be fine. He wanted Bruce with him. He only wanted him back). Tony just held himself together, smiling through the broken edges, and marched forward like a man heading towards the guillotine.
The only thing that still kept him tethered to reality, no matter how much he wished he wasn't, was the solid platinum ring that was on the chain that hung innocously around his neck.
A month had passed.
Tony existed, in a cold and detached manner, uncaring of the outside world. Everyone around him was worried. Steve had ordered him to stand down in the recent missions, having realised that his team mate had a death wish.
That day, Tony was confined to his bed since he had collapsed in his lab, after working for 38 hours straight. He was banned from getting out of the bed till he had slept for atleast eight hours. Tony was in no state to argue seeing how he was already passed out.
When, after a few hours of sleep, Tony emerged from the thick blanket of sleep that draped over him, metaphorically, he blinked slowly as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Turning his head, he caught sight of Bruce, dressed casually, gazing at him with tired amd worried eyes, sitting in a chair to the left. Looking at him, a dull pang went through him, remembering all the times Tony had caught Bruce looking at him when he had thought he was asleep.
Bruce sat forward.
"Tony?" His voice was hoarse.
Tony was tired, and he could not stop himself from looking. His eyes traced the contours of Bruce's face, remembering the way he had mapped it out with his lips and fingers. He did not speak, couldn't gather the energy to.
What was the point anyway? Bruce was gone and all he was left with was the sad image his mind had conjured up, which could never compare to the real him.
"Tony, I am so sorry," Bruce said, coming to kneel next to the bed. "Tony, please."
Looking into the eyes that looked so real, Tony closed his own with a sigh, not giving any indication that he heard anything. Before he knew it, sleep dragged him under, a vague sensation of his hair being brushed from his forehead following him into darkness.
The next time he woke up, he felt marginally better, though he suspected his legs wouldn't support him if he was to stand up. A glance to the left showed him an empty chair. He closed his eyes against the bitter feeling welling up in him, and let sleep overtake him again.
Blinking his eyes against the sunlight shining on his face, Tony roused himself, frowning.
"JARVIS, shades," Tony croaked, his throat dry.
He sighed in relief as his retinas felt less like melting out of his skull. Unable to help himself and hating himself for it, Tony turned his head to the left. Bruce was there in the chair again, looking even more tired. Tony wondered if this was his subconscious' way of telling him that he needs more rest.
Tony tried to sit up with difficulty, all of his limbs feeling weighed down with stiffness. Bruce got up from his chair and came over to apparently try to help him.
Tony couldn't help it. He flinched violently. He looked to the other side of the room, breathing harshly. He knew that when Bruce touched him, he would have to give up the charade that it was actually Bruce and not a hallucination. He was not ready to do that. Not yet.
When he controlled himself enough to look back, Bruce had stepped back, fists clenched at his sides, so tightly that his knuckles appeared bone-white. An anguished expression had taken residence on his face, and it was obvious that he had gritted his teeth.
Tony almost wished his imagination was less than perfect.
He watched as Bruce slowly sat back on the seat, his pained gaze boring right back into him. Before Tony could give into the alluring temptation and speak to him, the door opened and Pepper walked in, carrying two bowls of soup. Steve's recipe, if Tony's nose could be believed.
Pepper placed both the bowls on the bedside table, grinning brightly at Tony, relief and joy visible on her face.
"Come on, Tony," Pepper said. "It's time you ate something."
Tony gave her the most unimpressed look he could manage which must not have been much as Pepper just laughed on seeing it.
"I brought the other bowl for you so that you can eat with him, Bruce," she tossed out while arranging the sheets.
Tony would have sworn that time stopped for an instant. His battered heart skipped a beat and started racing, a traitorous hope fuelling it.
"Pepper," Tony said, his voice rough like a sand-paper. "Do you- you mean, you can see him too?"
It was obvious when the realisation dawned on Pepper and Bruce (he's real, he's real, he's real). Pepper covered her mouth as a sob broke free. She slowly backed out of the room, hoping that Bruce would be able to put Tony back together.
Neither Bruce nor Tony noticed her, their eyes glued to each other.
Without a word, Bruce took Tony's hands in his own (a hidden fear, that he's not actually real, dissipated and Tony shuddered in relief) and pressed one hand to his chest, right above the heart that was thundering within. He took the other hand to his mouth and pressed reverent kisses, each kiss filled with honest apology, deep sorrow and heart-lifting love.
Tony shook his head and tugged Bruce to him. Bruce started to apologise but his words were cut off by Tony's mouth. With a small sound of surprise, Bruce gave in to the kiss, parting his lips and sucking in Tony's tongue.
They kissed like it was a battle, teeth clashing and tongues dueling, lips being nipped at and subsequently soothed over by the swipe of a tongue. It was more than love or lust. It was about hope and life.
After a month apart, where one believed that the other was dead, when as a matter of fact, the other had been lying in a hospital bed, registered as a John Doe, not knowing that the tracker had been wiped out due to the energy backlash because of his close proximity to the explosion, and wondering why no one had come for him, this kiss was the culmination of the seemingly endless days of heart break, depression, loss of hope, self-doubt, and the utter upheaval of one's life. It was life-affirming.
When they came up for air, they didn't speak. They merely leaned their foreheads on each other's and breathed while revelling in the other's presence.
Releasing Bruce, Tony brought his hands to his neck and lifted up the silver chain that he wore constantly. Catching sight of the twinkling ring hanging innocently on the chain, Bruce's breath stuttered.
"Tony..."
Just the whisper of the name.
Looking at the ring, after placing it on the palm of his hand, Tony spoke, solemnly.
"I had this made for you, a while back. I meant to ask you but I never did."
Tony switched his magnetic gaze to Bruce, looking deep into his eyes.
"So, I'll ask you now. Marry me?"
Bruce snorted though his eyes were filled with the kind of happiness that was rare for him.
"You do realise that you are supposed to ask that question while kneeling?"
"Since when did I conform to the traditional practices?"
Bruce laughed.
"Good point."
He then extended his hand, wiggling his ring finger.
"The answer is yes, by the way. It'll always be yes to you, Tony."
As the ring slid into place, twin smiles erupted on their faces.
Tony kissed the ring, turned Bruce's hand and pressed another delicate kiss to the inside of his wrist. Bruce pressed his lips to Tony's forehead, light as a butterfly yet tangible as a cool raindrop.
They still had their issues to work out. They would have to heal themselves and each other. There would be obstacles and restrictions that they'd have to overcome.
But, that's alright. They were Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne, Iron Man and Batman. Between them, they could handle anything.
A/N:
The explosion and the terror attacks were from TDKR. I did not include Bane and the entire story since I doubt Tony would have let Bruce fight that battle on his own. So, here, the basic plot is the same as TDKR. Some sort of terrorists' attacks happen in Gotham (what else is new, eh?), the Batman takes the bomb out over the ocean, saves the people, but gets hurt. If you couldn't understand any part, ask/mention it in the comment sections or PM me, and I'll PM you back.
Title from Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey (AMAZING song. Fully recommended). This song was listened to on a loop while writing this story and is the main inspiration for the work. The concept of hallucinations are from a few Hartwin stories and... I forgot the other pairing. All those stories were amazing. If I could find them again, I'll link them here.
If you find any mistakes, please let me know. I'll be editing this later.
This story is posted two weeks later than I initially intended and I am sorry for that.
Reviews and comments are appreciated!