He hit the ground at a sharp angle. The air in his lungs expelled so swiftly his eyes inadvertently burned with tears. His ribs ached as he rolled to his front, covering his arms over his head on instinct. That hurt. What the hell happened? He wasn't in his armor… Had he been in his armor?
Glancing up with wary resignation, Tony felt woozy and nauseous. A bright light swung above him. His ears rang with surprised and angry shouts. He couldn't understand what they were saying. The tell tale echo of SHIELD-issued boots tapping on the immaculate floor, surrounding him. Weapons drawn, safety triggers disabled.
"Only Iron Man could break into SHIELD." Steve's voice came from his left, a calming beacon slicing through chaos. "So, Tony Stark really is Iron Man."
Tony tried to focus on him, but the words still didn't make much sense. Of course he's Iron Man. Like, duh.
Steve loomed in front of him, shield slung over one arm- wait, his old shield. What? And he was pointing a gun directly at Tony's forehead. Tony blinked, shaking his head and began weakly thumping his chest until he felt the steady hum of the arc reactor beneath his palm. Okay, not dreaming then.
After a long moment he managed to fold up on his knees and grunt, "What the hell happened, Steve? Are you alright?"
Cornflower blue eyes stared blankly back at him, the normally friendly and expressive face morphed into something he didn't recognize. Next thing he knew his arms were being lurched painfully behind his back by some nameless agent. He bit his tongue to suppress a shout. They didn't have to be so rough. What was going on? Dammit, what was Fury pissed at him about this time?
Handcuffs restricted his blood flow, a hand he couldn't see tugged sharply on his hair to force his head back. Orders, chaos and adrenaline made his vision turn spotty. Tony was then dragged to some random room of SHIELD's headquarters. He was thrown down onto a bench without further aplomb.
The back of his skull cracked painfully on the metal, he hissed. Why was Steve letting them rough house him? Normally Cap was overbearingly protective on the best of days. Tony was still not certain if this was some sort of practical joke- because if so, again, Steve would never let them harm him.
Tony idly recognized his surrounding. He'd just been in this conference area not even two days ago. Was it two days? How had he gotten back here? Oh, yeah. He'd been at the Tower, screwing around in Bruce's lab with that artifact. Oh hell. The dots connected and Tony drew in a deep breath.
He'd touched the necklace that Thor and Steve and Bruce had kinda mentioned, multiple times, not to touch.
Magic. God damn he hated magic, Tony thought belatedly. Fury smiled over his crumpled form with something akin to triumph. He'd never seen the man so pleased to see him.
"So we finally caught you." Fury's voice practically purred. "Don't know how you ended up right on our doorstep, Iron Man. Or should I say, Tony Stark?"
Tony raised an eyebrow in disbelief at the theatrics, "Seriously, Fury? Are you high? Have you been smoking crack?"
Fury's eyes narrowed as he quietly snarled, "Oh, you felt we should have captured you sooner?"
"Captured?" Tony repeated with emphasis. "I know you get pissy when I stay in my lab for more than three days, but you don't really need to capture me, Fury. I'm kinda here every other day of the week for debriefings, dude."
"So you'll admit you're Iron Man?" Fury demanded.
The room was quiet for a moment until Tony rambled, "What the hell am I in trouble for this time? Seriously. Okay, so I totally did exactly as Steve and Bruce and Thor told me not to. Yeah. I admit that." Tony glanced at a very unimpressed Captain America before cringing. "Guilty as charged to that offense. I didn't mean to -actually- touch Thor's relic-thingy, I was just putting it through the gamma ray spectrometer to measure its frankly bizarre and uncategorizable parametrization-"
"Answer the question, Stark." This time Steve strode forward, his masculine jawline tucked toward his chest as he downright glowered at Tony.
Tony flinched when his eyes locked on Steve's, sincerely taken aback. Tony managed to utter a confused, "Steve?"
Captain America squared his shoulders and glared balefully towards Tony with an expression that could've made even the bravest soldier want to burst into tears. That tone, Tony thought. He used that tone when he was trying to reign in his anger and it wasn't working.
Steve nearly spat on Tony as he bellowed, "How dare you call me by my given name, you genocidal maniac!"
"Huh?" Tony was not on his best form. He was feeling a little concussed, a lot nauseous, and very concerned for his current safety. "What is going on here? Am I being Punked?"
"We are arresting you for numerous crimes against humanity-" Fury smirked as he paced back and forth, continuing to talk. But Tony didn't hear the list. He was too busy staring around the room, gathering his bearings, and noting the differences. This was SHIELD. But that certainly wasn't Steve. Or Fury.
"Did I time travel?" Tony cut Fury off from his impassioned rant.
The agents assembled around the room chuckled to one another, a nasty taunt.
"No, I'm being completely serious here." Tony added urgently. "It was Sunday Oct. 20, 2019 not even an hour ago. For me. Did I time travel?"
Fury visibly hesitated, as if to reassess Stark's sanity. He waved his hand absently, "Agent Hill-"
"The date corroborates." Hill murmured from behind his shoulder. "It will be a Sunday on Oct. 20, 2019, sir."
Captain America frowned, his index finger twitched on the trigger of the gun he held, "He's lying."
"I am not!" Tony whined, trying to adjust his arms behind his back, but found the cuffs were too tight. "No seriously, lemme explain. God, this fucking concussion. If I did in fact travel through time because of Thor's stupid fucking necklace, I'm not sure how much I can even say, 'cause of that, you know, fucking butterfly effect-"
Natasha, who had been hovering on the sidelines, moved forward with purpose. Her hand clenched and Tony instinctively cringed and yelped, "Ahhh, Nat! Stoppit! Don't tase me, bro, fuck! Let me fucking explain-"
Natasha did halt at those words, her eyes deducing Tony's earnest expression. Fury exchanged one of those looks that spoke paragraphs with Natasha, before she crouched in front of him. Her free hand was still on her Widow's bite attached to her wrist.
"So you deny that you are the super villain, Iron Man?"
"Super villain?" Tony snorted, rolling his eyes. "That's insane. I'm an Avenger. That's kinda the antithesis of a villain, guys."
"So you are denying it?" Natasha repeated softly. "You deny sending a nuclear missile into the heart of Hong Kong? Or releasing the Hulk on a poor neighborhood in India? You're denying that you are in fact Iron Man?"
"Um no, I'm saying that I shouldn't have fucked with Thor's magical necklace."
Fury sneered at him, "Thor?"
"Asgardian God of Thunder? Carries around a hammer, wears a big red cape? You're kidding me," Tony deadpanned, parsing out his next words carefully. "You're saying Dr. Bruce Banner is some kind of national threat, I'm some sort of super crazy villain, and you've never heard of Thor Odinson or Loki Laufeyson?"
Fury stared down at Tony, ready to throw the man to the ground in a moments notice for his Stark snark. Captain America was also tensed up beside Tony. It was disconcerting to have Steve glare at him like that. It sent Tony's nerves on edge. He'd never seen Steve look at him quite like that before. Even when they weren't friends.
"Oh, fucking hell. Just my luck." Tony pouted moodily towards the ceiling. "And this isn't even the weirdest thing that's happened to me this week. So it is time travel, then? Or am I a doppelganger in this world? Time-space-dimension traveler?"
Tony paused before asking himself incredulously, "Goddamn. Am I the American Dr. Who now?"
Natasha moved quietly from the round table, ignoring his words as she placidly asked, "So now you're trying to convince us you aren't Iron Man?"
Tony shifted his arms behind his back, trying to find an angle that wasn't painful, "Um, yeah. I'm obviously Iron Man."
The atmosphere in the room shifted palpably. Before Tony could retort his face was forcefully slammed down onto the bench he'd been perched on. Blood filled his mouth, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve. Oh god, Steve. That perfect face was red with indignation and his eyes were burning quasars. Steve never physically harmed him before, outside of mishaps in the gym or accidents during missions. His Steve knew how easily his super strength could go overboard, but this Other-Steve didn't seem to. Or he wasn't trying to hold himself back. Legitimately scary thought.
"Take this monstrosity away," Steve ordered in his Captain America voice.
"No, ugh!" Tony spat some blood, forcing himself to add, "I'm not some goddamn super villain. Go look for Tony Stark in this world. I'm pretty sure you'll fucking find him exactly where you left him!"
Fury's voice turned velvet and dangerous, Tony couldn't tell from where he was speaking. His vision was dizzy and stilted.
"You think we'd believe you? Really, Stark. I'm disappointed."
"I'm not the goddamn Tony Stark from this world!" Tony bellowed. Steve's hand clenched so tight on Tony's hair that his scalp felt pulled away from his skull.
"You're a lunatic." Steve's disgusted tone made his skin especially crawl, and he knew an angry Steve was an especially careless Steve. Shit. "Humanity should wipe its hands of you."
Tony's head was expertly bashed against the bench a second time. He passed out a moment later.
When he woke up again he was in a cell. Shirtless. His arms weren't handcuffed anymore, but Tony nearly jumped out of his skin as he cradled both hands around his arc reactor. They hadn't taken it out. Fucking hell, they hadn't removed it. Deliberately slowing down his breathing before he started having a panic attack, Tony scanned the room with a practiced eye. Typical SHIELD cell. Not one reinforced for Bruce, Steve or Thor's super-strength.
Peering down at his arc reactor intently, Tony shivered when he realized there was a dent in the metal that hadn't been there prior.
It was directly beside the crease of scarred skin where he'd bolted the initial car battery. This world hadn't realized that the arc reactor wasn't the entire device; hadn't known to remove it's core. Tony was safe in that respect, for now. He shivered, fear making his finger tick against his chest absently.
Before he could fully collect himself, Fury's voice filled the room over the intercom.
"Iron Man attacked London just over an hour ago. So either you aren't actually Iron Man, or you've hired a proxy. We did DNA testing among other things while you slept. Confirms you are in fact Anthony Edward Stark."
"Slept?" Tony snorted sarcastically. "That's the euphemism you're using now? Sleeping it off so you can run nonconsensual invasive tests and attempt body modification on a device you know nothing about? Wow, Fury. I'm shocked. SHIELD's really on top of the whole moral high ground thing that you've got going around here."
There was a pause before Fury's deadpan voice continued, "Tell us more about the device in your chest. Otherwise we'll examine it ourselves. I can assure you that it'll be a lot easier if you just tell us."
Tony crossed his legs as he leaned back against the cold metal wall of the cell and flippantly replied, "Well first off, don't try to remove it unless you want me dead."
He tapped on the center of the arc reactor, inwardly cringing for telling them. God, his worst fucking nightmare could be realized. But right now it was the only card he could play.
"Why exactly should we trust what you're saying?" It was Steve's voice, impatient. "That thing could very well be a weapon."
He ironically assumed that's what this Other-Steve might think. Hydra weapons. Surreal. This Steve and his own were too similar, it was disconcerting.
Tony sighed as he asked rhetorically, almost exasperatedly, "Okay, are you gonna let me explain then? Or are you gonna come in here and bash my head against the bench for saying something you don't like?"
"Stark-" Fury warned.
Heaving a great sigh Tony clasped his sweaty hands around his ankles. His head was pounding. The pain made him feel tired and snappish. Despite his current physical condition, he opened his mouth and did what he did best. Rambled.
"Okay, yeah, long story short. I touched this alien artifact that wasn't mine but was in our lab because Jane was trying to examine it. An explosion, boom, I think I heard Bruce shout my name. So, I wake up and now I'm here being called a super villain yada yada. But I'm not, in fact, a villain, though I can totally understand why the media likes me to make me out as one. Pretty unsavory youtubes abound. Ahem. I am in fact a consulting SHIELD agent and have been for almost what? Six years? Seven years? I'm on SHIELD's side, I always have been. Well, except, you know, occasionally. Doesn't seem like the Tony Stark in this world feels that way however, what a pity.
"And not that you'll believe me," Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "No skin off my back. But you should know, my team are called the Avengers. Since you don't know who Thor is, and he was the catalyst to the Avengers Initiative, what with being all alien tech and stuff, I'm figuring you might not have that here."
Fury, Steve and whoever else was listening obviously seemed content with his word spewing. So he continued.
"Anyway, yeah, so I am apart of this team of badasses and we fight for the safety of mankind. The Avengers, because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damned well sure we'll avenge it!" Tony smiled exuberantly, the memory giving him a boost of confidence.
"We live in my tower in Manhattan. Black Widow, Hawkeye, The Hulk, Thor, Captain America and mu-ahh." Tony pursed his lips.
"Sometimes the X-Men help, sometimes the Incredibles help, sometimes the Guardian's help. Sometimes we are all just fighting against a nonstop shit show and it's all blurred lines. Teamwork and all that jazz. I think the Captain would appreciate that sentiment."
Running through his thoughts he continued, "The Tony Stark in this world sells heavy-duty weapons, doesn't he."
"In the black market, yes." Steve's terse voice responded. "Those weapons have murdered uncountable masses of human beings."
"Stark Industries in my world used to sell weapons, too." Tony sighed, guessing the truth wouldn't hurt in this particular situation. "But we stopped producing them after I was kidnapped by Afghani terrorists and forced on pain of torture to build them a weapon of mass destruction."
Silence filled the room and he knew he was overly-tense as he forced the subsequent words past his chapped lips, "That's how I got the metal in my chest. Terrorists. This metal is keeping shrapnel from entering my heart. Think of it as a pacemaker. It's certainly not a weapon."
Again he paused, stomach roiling, "So instead of building the terrorists what they wanted, I built the first prototype of the Iron Man suit. My buddy Rodney eventually rescued me, yada yada. I made better versions of my armor. I can also assure you, everyone in my world who has access to a television knows Tony Stark is Iron Man. It has never been a hidden fact. I told the press well before Cap was unfrozen. Before Thor came to Midgard."
He knew exactly where the security camera was, so he stubbornly nodded at it and gave them a baleful smile, "But I also know that my team is on the way. They've got my back. I really don't need you to believe my story, even if it is in fact true. You'll see for yourself soon enough."
"Yes," Fury affirmed smugly. "We will."
"Oh, god, Fury, what are you gonna do to me?" Tony didn't flinch. "Murder me? Torture me? Look, hey, let's make this easy. I'll prove it to you just so you know what a bunch of shit heads you guys are being right now. Innocent until proven guilty, indeed."
"Oh?" Fury was amused, baiting, trying to call a bluff which did not exist.
So Tony took a deep breath and began, "Steve Rogers dislikes to be inactive for more than an hour at any given time. He wakes up by five in the morning like clockwork and gets fidgety if he doesn't work out twice a day, partially due to the serum but also because he gets bored in one place and refuses to accept that he has ADD. Steve likes impressionists but isn't fond of modernism, mostly because he thinks squares on a canvas aren't particularly impressive. Hot dogs are his go-to food, but he'll also devour so many hamburgers in one sitting- it's actually a little unbelievable. Reality television makes him really uncomfortable because he gets embarrassed on their behalf. I know Steve prefers chocolate over vanilla and that techno music irritates the snot outta him. Moving on?
"Natasha Romanoff, or whatever alias she goes by these days, is terrifying before she has her tea in the morning. She'd rather spar hand to hand than with weapons because she likes to maintain her flexibility and battling Thor constantly increases muscle mass. Natasha loves a Japanese writer, Murakami, and she learned the Japanese language, plus Kanji, just to be able to read his novels before they become translated. She speaks fourteen languages, and that's only just what she tells us. Nat's ideal afternoon, when not on that adrenaline-high of a mission, is actually kind of cute." Tony grinned boyishly.
He knew this world's Natasha was cringing as he told whoever would listen, "She knits, and gets really into it. Nat's fond of making these silk scarves, using materials her grandmother told her of once upon a time."
Another long pause before Tony blathered away:
"Clint Barton absolutely hates being underground, but I guess that's obvious? Hmmm, he also is a total geek when it comes to new technology. He's one of the most persistent people I've ever met, and never minces words. Clint admires those with bigger body mass, more strength, but he's told me that he's thankful to be small and agile enough to keep up with Nat. Him and Nat have this contest about a red ledger of some sort. They talk about it all the time, and all Nat'll tell me is that it started in Budapest. But what happened in Budapest really is different depending on who you're asking in this instance.
"Okay? Who else? No, not Thor, you don't know him yet. How 'bout Agent Phil Coulson? Oh, our dear Mr. Agent is a super-secret Captain fanatic and carries vintage cards around with him. He is one of the only people both Clint and Natasha trust without question, and he has an eidetic memory. Lucky bastard. Phil is kind of like the underpaid nanny, that can't really differ here. Now Nicholas Joseph Fury-"
"Stop," Fury demanded. His tone was dramatically different now, almost strained.
Steve's voice added softly, "How the hell do you know these things?"
Tony huffed before demanding in disbelief, "Wasn't that the whole fucking point? I am not the motherfucking Tony Stark or Iron Man from this world. I'm from a different world. Seriously. The things I just listed were character traits, not something the random person would know. That is because, as I've been saying, I live with them in the Avengers Tower and they are my team and my friends. You can't refute anything I've said except for maybe nit picky details, can you?"
Tony lifted his gaze towards the security camera, "I already know what you're thinking, too. Typical SHIELD. You are going to plop me in front of the Iron Man of this world and wait to see what happens. That's why your acting so smug. Fury's typical planning, Steve's typical execution."
He sighed when he was given no response, "I hope you at least give me some sort of weapon, because otherwise that's really not fair."
The mic crackled for a moment over the intercom, Steve's voice informing him with a clipped nonchalance, "You're right about one thing, Stark. We'll see what happens when this false Iron Man sees Tony Stark."
Tony grinned humorlessly. "You'll find I perform best when I'm under pressure. Let's get this show on the road, Captain."
TBC.