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Challenges Listed at the Bottom
Word Count: 2835
Necessity
Zombies weren't meant to be real.
They were supposed to be a movie concept, something to laugh at or cheer for, or for the 'heroes' to defeat, or… or whatever it was that people did when they watched a movie.
They were not supposed to be roaming the streets, trying to chomp on people's necks!
Tony was holed up in his old family manor. It was practically a tomb all of its own, for the comfort Tony got there, but it was gated, had high walls and the security was second to none.
His father's paranoia was finally coming in handy.
Since the first Zombie attack—and really, what the fuck—Tony had spent his days and nights building weapons. Mass weapons, single use weapons, things to make the zombies explode in impact.
As much as occasionally he'd been accused of resembling a zombie when he hadn't slept enough, he had no desire to actually join the leagues of the so-called undead.
For the first few weeks—or months, Tony lost track of time easily—he'd been fine to rattle around the old mausoleum of a house on his own, but as time ticked by, he was realising that as much as he'd never cared for people, he was missing the few people he could actually stand.
Or just one person.
He was assured of Rhodey's continued health by JARVIS, who tracked Rhodey as steadfastly as he did Tony, down to the number of heart beats and even the slightest elevation of blood pressure.
But knowing he was fine and seeing it with his own eyes were two different things. And so, Tony had been tinkering.
When he'd first made Iron Man, he'd been a remote controlled armour, and it had worked well. It had had the added advantage of nobody getting physically hurt when the suit inevitably got bashed and battered.
When the Avengers had split—something Tony still didn't like to think about—Tony hadn't bothered making any more suits. Just thinking about Iron Man hurt most days, so he'd pushed the armour from his mind.
But now, he had other plans.
The suit—one that he'd be inside of—he'd created had been a bit of a disaster at first. The recordings of his first test flights in the garage would never be seen by any other human, he'd make sure of it.
But, with each reiteration, and change of the suit, Tony got happier and happier with his invention.
He could fly. The metal would protect his neck from being ravaged by the gnashers out in the street, and he could go and see his Rhodey.
His plan was foolproof.
…
His plan was not foolproof.
He'd been ambushed almost soon as he'd left the grounds, and by defending himself, he'd made a mess of the walls around the house.
His safe haven was no more.
Still, Rhodey was holed up in his own safe haven, and Tony knew he would be happier there with him than he could ever be in his family home.
He flew for hours, until finally, finally, JARVIS guided him down to the opening of a bunker in the middle of the forest. He let himself in, and stomped down the stairs in his suit, flicking the face plate up.
"Honeybear, I'm home!" he trilled, laughing when Rhodey stumbled to the bottom of the staircase, a gun in one hand, an axe in the other. "What kind of a welcome is that?"
Rhodey blinked at him. "What the fuck are you wearing?"
…
"Platypus?"
Rhodey narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"We can't spend the rest of forever in a bunker."
Snorting, Rhodey asked, "Would you prefer to be zombie chow?"
"I mean… we have much weapons, Honeybear," Tony pointed out. "And. I am very bored."
"You want to go kill them for sport?"
Tony wrinkled his nose. "Who the hell is gonna cheer us on? There's no point playing sport if there's nobody there to hope you win. Plus, no trophy. I like trophies."
"I think I preferred you when you were on the opposite side of the country."
Tony scowled. "Rude."
…
"You know, I always expected an apocalypse to be much more fun. Survival and all that jazz," Tony pointed out. "This… is dull."
"Sorry I'm not entertaining enough for you," Rhodey replied flatly. "I'm sure that—"
He was cut off by a bang, and the sound of the hatch that protected them being lifted.
"Interesting enough for you?" Rhodey asked, picking up the gun that he never allowed more than ten feet from him. "Let's go and see who's visiting, shall we?"
Tony followed Rhodey with his own gun to the staircase and then, when he saw who was lowering themselves down the stairs, let out a whoop of triumph.
"How the bloody hell did you find us?" He asked, when Natasha smirked at him and Clint gave him a goofy smile.
"As if you could ever hide from me, Tones," she said, rolling her eyes. "But Fury sent me. Said you'd created a new version of Iron Man? He wants your help."
"Does he have materials for me to make a better one?" Tony asked, frowning. "Mine is a little worse for wear."
Clint scoffed. "It's Fury. He has whatever you need him to have."
Tony and Rhodey shared a look. "Looks like we're heading for New York."
…
Rhodey didn't trust Fury. Tony knew that, had known it since the first time they'd all been in the same room together years ago. He wasn't sure why—except for the fact that Fury was the spy-i-est spy to ever spy—but whatever it was, it meant that as soon as they hit Fury's shiny new transport, known as the Helicarrier apparently, Rhodey was practically stuck to Tony like glue.
It didn't take Tony long to remember why he never doubted his Platypus' instincts.
They were sitting in the main meeting room, the two of them and Nat and Clint, waiting for Fury. When the patch wearing man arrived, he wasn't alone.
"Oh, fuck you," Tony muttered, when he saw Steve Rogers—man out of time, Captain America, and Tony's ex boyfriend—entering behind him.
He was still wearing the red, white and blue. Asshole.
Averting his eyes, lest he realise just how good the man still looked, Tony turned to Rhodey.
"You okay?" Rhodey murmured. "I'm pretty sure if I shoot him, he'll bleed like the rest of us, even if it doesn't dead him."
Tony snorted. "Probably no shooting. Not yet anyway. At least his boy—"
Bucky Barnes entered and Tony sighed, slumping down in his seat. Across the room, Clint gave him a sympathetic look.
"Where's Banner?" Tony asked loudly. "Since this is a fucking reunion and all."
"We haven't found him yet," Fury admitted, when nobody else answered.
Tony rolled his eyes. "J, find Brucie. Just in case."
"He's still in the last place we knew him to be, Sir," JARVIS' voice sounded from Tony's phone, and Tony smiled, and then looked smugly at Fury.
"Guess there's finally something I know that you don't."
Fury waited for a few seconds, and then waved his hand. "Well, are you going to tell us?"
Tony shook his head. "Absolutely not. Not until you tell me exactly what we're doing here. The Avengers are dust, Nicky Boy. Have been for over a year."
"The world still needs you," Fury said, leaning on the table with both hands. "And I think we've waited long enough for your petty squabbles to have gotten in the way of that."
Rhodey snorted. "Sure, petty squabbles," he said sarcastically, glaring at the twin super soldiers. "That's what we'll call it. Meanwhile, the world is a shit show and is full to the fucking brim of the walking dead. Who the hell needs help?"
"There are pockets of survivors," Fury said. "That need bringing in. We're going to make a community for the survivors, before we can get rid of those infected. Dr Cho is searching for a cure with her team, but odds are that the people already infected are as good as done for."
"So… start the world over?" Tony asked. "Just like that?"
"Do you have any better ideas?" Fury asked. "Or were you enjoying staying in that little bunker?"
Tony stood up, his chair falling back onto the floor behind him. "If we're discussing the caliber of the company, then it was a damn site better than it is here."
He stormed out of the room. Not once did he meet Steve's eyes.
…
"Tones…"
"I can't do it, Rhodey," Tony said, shaking his head. He was on a balcony, the wind blowing his hair everywhere. Not that it made much of a difference. He hadn't really been fussed about hair products lately, so his hair was a perpetual mess anyway.
"We can go back to the bunker?" Rhodey offered, and Tony loved him for it because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Rhodey would do that, even if it meant living years alone with just the two of them.
Just to keep Tony safe and happy.
"You know, you're the best person I've ever met," Tony said, leaning into the larger man. "And I hope that you'll be with me for the rest of my life, Honeybear, I really do. But I'm not going to make you live in a bunker with me, because… well, because of the aforementioned reason. If we have to live in that bunker, my life expectancy is going to deplete, fast."
"Tones—"
"I'll do this," Tony said, "because we need it. You and me. We need somewhere to live that isn't an enclosed underground bunker. But fuck him, Rhodey. Fuck him."
Rhodey stared at him for a moment, and then gathered Tony into a bear hug.
"I'll always be right by your side, Tones. Always."
…
He made another suit. This time, he made it hot rod red and gold, just because he could. Iron Man had always been silver, but Tony wanted something different.
And he'd always liked red.
It was a good colour.
The task of collecting people who were still fully themselves was one that was undertaken with relish by the ex-Avengers. For most of them, it was because it was something to do instead of hiding.
None of them were good at hiding, or waiting.
Tony tried to keep to himself—with Rhodey of course—but the others seemed to have made it a side mission to pull him back into their orbit, Nat and Clint especially.
Neither of them would leave off.
Nat sat with him as he welded, or while he was waiting for a piece of something to fabricate. Clint came to find him multiple times a day to try and force him into a break, be it for food, or to play a game with him, or even just to shoot the breeze.
It was nice, Tony thought, to be wanted, but he was wary. These people, this team, had been his whole life, and when they were done, it had upended everything he thought he knew.
And now they were all there and it was hard, really fucking hard, to not be pulled straight back in.
Steve and Barnes seemed to be holding themselves back at least, for which Tony was pathetically grateful. He didn't think he'd be able to cope with Steve anywhere near him for a prolonged amount of time.
Not now, perhaps not ever.
…
"Holy fuck that's a lot of gnashers," Tony said, as the swarm seemed to turn as one, a whole ass crew of bitey gangsters coming towards them. He blasted the nearest ones away, but even with their firepower, he knew they were going to be overwhelmed.
"Okay, nope."
He grabbed Cap and Barnes around the waist and shot upwards, dropping them in the hights of the trees, even as he radioed to Nat and Clint who were above in the cargo jet they'd been using to save the survivors.
"We need another plan, my dudes, there are too many down here."
Nat sighed. "You haven't got any wide range weapons?"
"You just want me to kill them all?"
"They're already dead, Tones," Clint supplied, and Tony could practically hear him rolling his eyes.
"Welp. Okay then." He lowered in the trees just long enough to let a couple of rockets go from the shoulder holsters and then shot back up, grabbing the two super soldiers on the way.
The blast sent him tumbling in the air, and it took him a moment to right himself, since he couldn't use his hands for balance.
"Tony—"
"We can drop back down now, I think," Tony said, unwilling to chance Steve saying anything that wasn't mission related. "Stay close in case we've gotta get outta there quick."
He was met with two nods, but he could see the frustration on Steve's face. They were going to have to talk soon, Tony knew.
Steve wasn't going to let him run forever.
…
He cornered him two nights later. Tony had been expecting it, but it didn't make him anymore comfortable with it.
"We need to talk."
Tony shrugged, fiddling with his phone for something to do. "I don't need to talk. I'm good with not talking."
"Then will you listen?" Steve asked. "Please."
Sighing, Tony nodded.
"You never gave me a chance before," Steve said, sitting down beside him, leaving little space between them. Tony wanted to shuffle away, but he couldn't bring himself to. "You just… left. Didn't even speak to me."
"I didn't think there was anything to say," Tony muttered. "You made your priorities clear enough, and who am I to get in the middle of long lo—"
"You said you'd listen."
Tony just nodded, biting his lip. A slow hand reached out, and then a gentle thumb was pulling the lip from between his teeth. "Don't do that. You know it always makes me want to kiss you."
Tony blinked at him. "Still?"
"Always," Steve replied, shrugging. "I saved Bucky, you're right. I put him first for as long as it took me to find him and bring him to safety. But it was never about being in love with him, Tones."
"I—"
"What would you do, if it was Rhodey?"
Kill everything that moved until I got him back, was the instinctive thought that entered Tony's mind, and from the look on Steve's face, he knew it too.
"It was never, ever a reason for me to 'get rid of you', like you seemed to believe."
Tony just blushed. "You and him aren't—"
"Never have," Steve assured him. "You're the only one I see, Tony. Even now."
Tony nodded slowly. He was confused, and hurting and hopeful and it was an odd mix that he didn't really know what to do with. "I uh. I have to think."
…
"I don't know what to do, Honeybear," Tony said. They were lying on Tony's bed, Tony's head on Rhodey's stomach, while Rhodey played with his hair.
"What do you want to do?"
"Lick him all over," Tony said immediately, making Rhodey laugh.
"I think you know what you're going to do then."
"But what if—"
"Tones," Rhodey said softly. "We made it past the end of the world, and right into the new world. Maybe it's worth a gamble, hmm? And hey, if he hurts you again, I'll cut his dick off and feed it to him."
Tony snorted. "You would, wouldn't you?"
"I'd take great pleasure in it."
Tony rolled over and pressed a kiss to Rhodey's cheek. "Thanks honeybear."
"Uh huh."
Tony stood up and stretched, and then grinned wickedly. "I think I've got a super soldier to find."
"Make him work for it, Tones."
"Oh, I intend to. Don't expect to see us out of his bedroom for a few days, kay?"
"... ew."
…
Post apocalypse New York was… different. But not necessarily worse. It was certainly quieter, but more people had survived than Tony would have expected, and slowly, steadily, a new New York was shaping itself.
Tony suspected the same couldn't be said for the whole world, but there were survivors, and in a few thousand years, the population would likely be somewhere near what it had been before.
And until then… well, Tony was enjoying the peace.
And Steve.
Steve was an unexpected bonus of the apocalypse. Before it had happened, Tony would never have given him the time of day; he wouldn't have even entertained being in the same room as him.
Sometimes, necessity was a good thing.
"How was your morning run?" he asked, strolling into the kitchen for his morning coffee to find Steve already there, sweaty and gorgeous in his navy work out wear, and holding a coffee for Tony, which made him perfect.
"Good," Steve said, handing over the coffee, and following it with a kiss to his cheeks. "Good morning, I love you."
Tony grinned at him. "I love you too."
Written for:
Written in the Stars: 9. Golden
This or That: 3. Fighting for survival
Elizabeth's Empire: 2. Flying
Entitled: 1. Post Apocalypse
Artist Appreciation: 16. Gold
Auction: Day 1, A4: Apocalypse!AU
Gobstones: Yellow Stone: Survival / Accuracy: Silver / Power: Confused / Technique: Navy
365: 262. Navy blue
Scavenger Hunt: 83. Apocalypse!AU