sizeofyourbaggage | OPEN RP POST

[ Tony watched most everything from the sidelines. The most he engaged tended to be with Rhodes. He carefully crafted a mask to suit everyone else's needs. No one wanted to face up to the facts that Tony had been far from okay for years now. Or worse, they didn't want to acknowledge the imminent threat upon their tiny, helpless little world.

The kind of stuff that kept him up at night. Well, kept him up more than usual, anyways.

Sam Wilson fit into the group well for a newcomer, and most everyone considered him "Steve's friend" more than anything. Tony hadn't ever really ended up talking to him one on one, except for a couple of times here and there when the party or get together had died down and clean up started. It was little things, here and there, that made him feel like he didn't have to keep his guard up all the time around Sam.

That he didn't have to pretend that everything was fine, even if they didn't talk about all the messed up bullshit. It was after movie night and a longer night spent in the lab that FRIDAY comes gently over the comms in Sam's room.

Sam, wake up. Mr. Stark is having a nightmare, and I can't bring him out of it. I don't know who else to ask for help.

She'd stopped Vision from going in, as he'd already sensed Stark's distress, but he still was learning. She wasn't certain what either of their reactions would be, and she'd monitored Tony's vitals when Sam spoke with him. The other man put him at ease more than the rest. It was worth a shot. ]

[ It feels a little strange, actually having friends. Sure, Sam's a friendly guy, and for the most part he feels at ease just about every where he goes, but it hadn't always been that way. After coming back from Afghanistan, Sam'd -

Well, there's a reason that he didn't have much of a life to pack up when Steve came calling. He'd had work, and that was about it.

Technically, that's still about it. He takes some shifts as a guest speaker at the VA, hangs out with the other Avengers, but it feels good. He thinks maybe they could be friends, instead of colleagues. He listens, watches them all even as he's right there in the middle of them, and if he starts lingering a little longer, hanging out a little bit more to help Tony clean up, well.

It's obvious that Tony's not ready to talk about anything yet, but it's just as obvious that he's not anywhere near as okay as he pretends like he is. Or at least, it's obvious to Sam, but that might just be because he knows how it feels. If nothing else, at least he can try to be some place where Tony doesn't feel like he has to keep the mask on all the time.

When FRIDAY calls his name that night, Sam jolts awake immediately, already rolling out of bed before he registers the rest of what she's saying. He'd assumed it was an Avengers thing, but that - that's just as important, far as he's concerned. ]

Yeah. Yeah, I got him, FRIDAY, don't worry.

[ He doesn't bother to get dressed, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he makes his way over to Tony's quarters, and he heads in without bothering to knock. Not like he's gonna be a surprise, if FRIDAY already tried to wake him.

Sam's been punched in the face one too many times by trying to physically shake someone out of a flashback or a nightmare - though sometimes, that's all that helps, and it's usually worth it - so he steps away from the door back hangs back, waiting to see what he's dealing with. ]

Tony?

[ Thanks, Sam. It's a quiet response as she resides more in monitoring and sentry mode now, and let's Sam do what he will. Tony's heart rate was still dangerously high for her liking.

He's curled up in his room, separate from the other floors for the other Avengers, but not off-limits. Very little in Tony's life was off limits to the others of the team, and that was just part of who he was, though a lot of the public would have no idea.

He shifts, mumbling into the pillow he's got a death-grip on, and his brow furrows. He's back there in New York. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play. It's the same curse that's followed him since he saw first-hand the kind of hell they were inviting to their tiny little world. Their tiny, unprotected world. He drags in a ragged breath and it comes out as a whine. Shall I try Miss Potts? Might as well.

[It behooved a man of Thane's age and occupation to become fastidious with his tools. He knew each piece and it's place in time and space, felt them in his mind with a steadying surety, memory overlaid with reality in a perfect image of order and rational planning. Planning, because it was not thought that guided his hands; the body moved, instinct and good habit long-engrained, but the mind involved itself elsewhere.

Strange, beyond all things, to be able to converse so silently, and at such a distance. Novel, beyond anything he knew, and therefore fascinating, much like nearly everything she had brought into his life; Thane had no regrets. Shepard's voice, her very mind, as near and accessible as his own memory, if not nearly so sharp. She was three levels below and to the left, working another of their number through a ferocious round in the boxing ring, and offering him commentary as she did so. It was a thing of bright joy to behold.

One doesn't usually smile at the disassembled minutae of a rifle, even as a career assassin and trained sniper. Perhaps Sam will think so, too, and approach Thane where he sits in the common area. The table is strewn with metal, each bolt and widget carefully laid out like an organizer's daydream. He is cleaning them, the work of long hours, and rarely done, but occasionally necessary.

He turns his head slightly, not even an acknowledgement of Sam's presence, simply a polite notation. You are seen. He means you no harm, and his mind is as smooth and sharp as graphene to the casual observer.]

im responding

[can you hear the long sigh?]

[ He sure as hell can, and knowing that makes him smile even bigger. ]

took you long enough
you know what it does for my reputation to get left on read so many times?

the notification is annoying.

[implying that he only opened the message to clear the notif? perhaps.]

[ He doesn't believe that for a second, but nice try, Bucky. ]

they get less annoying if you actually reply back to them
like now, look how much better this is

yeah? theyre still popping up

yeah, but now they're not something irritating that you have to ignore, or something that you feel guilty about letting sit there
now it's just two guys having a conversation

[imagine another sigh here, because there is]

is that what we're doing

OPEN RP POST

( you've witnessed the weight of my heart. )

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Once Upon A Time In Space, A Station 72 AU

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