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[neamrel]

ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ #9: coming home


Home.

The one place many feel at their calmest, safest, best. Or, in other situations, it can be the one place many dread returning to. That, sadly, is most often the case. As for a certain Thunder God though, it was neither.

The halls of Asgard felt empty. Frigga - strong, graceful, and eternal - was gone, and it felt like a stake had been driven through his heart when she had been struck down before him. There was no warm embrace waiting for him when he returned to speak to his father, nor was there the one soul he knew would grieve the lost of Loki just as much as himself.

It (in a rather simple term) sucked.

That fact that Loki had been lost to him as well did not help much either. The fact his brother had been kept deep below Asgard herself for his crimes did not change how deeply Thor still cared for his brother. Where did I go wrong, Thor would ask himself whenever Loki came to the forefront of his mind. No matter how many times, or how long Thor thought about it, he could never figure it out.

Asgard only had Odin as her protector now. Thor didn't belong here - not anymore.

"One son that wanted the throne to much, and another who does not want it at all."

He didn't belong there. No, he'd rather be stuck among mortals that he had come to care to much for. He'd rather be stuck with Jane, Darcy, and Erik. Listen to Jane and Erik talk on about the worlds, while Darcy messed with him to keep herself entertained. He couldn't keep a smile off his face at the thought.

He would still protect Asgard in her time of need, it was where he was raised by a mother who shined brighter than the sun, and with a brother that played pranks along beside him. Midgard was where he belonged now though, beside a woman far to independent and brilliant.

Home.

Maybe in time he would find it. A place he felt his best and happiest. He would never be for sure, but it felt like he was at least going to something.

[neamrel]

ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ #9: i'm sorry (companion to "i'm in trouble" & "i'm vunerable"


(because wow. close to a year and a half since i've written something here)
--

Ultron. He was suppose to be it. The last frontier, the protection that was meant to keep everyone safe (Pepper, Happy, Rhodey). Nothing was suppose to happen. He had just wanted to synthesize Loki's stupid mind stick.

JARVIS wasn't suppose to come in the crossfire (i'm sorry).

Tony could only try and defend himself as Steve, Bruce, Natasha - everyone, blamed him. i'm sorry i'msorryi'msorry.

"A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. We're standing 300 feet below it. We're the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all the live long day, but...that up there? That's...that's the end game. How were you guys planning on beating that?"

"Together." Steve had said.

"We'll lose." I'm sorry.

"Then we'll do that together, too."

I'm sorry, Tony thought as he turned back to the torn remains that was once JARVIS. I'll fix this, I will I will.

-

Utron had them. They hadn't even lasted long in the fight at the warehouse. Everyone was a mess but Clint (I don't like my mind being messed with). A safe house - Clint's house - was their last resort. Tony wanted to fix this; I'm sorry he wanted to say.

"I'm the man who killed the Avengers." He told Nick. "It's because of me."

I'm sorry I wanted to fix this.

"It wasn't a nightmare, it was my legacy. The end of the path I started us on." Why, why, why? Tony didn't have an answer. Nick didn't either.

Then the earth started to rip itself a part, and Tony had to fix it. Together Steve had said, every single one of 'em. The Maximoff's and Vision (JARVIS?) too. I'm sorry Tony thought as he shot off to stop the ground from rising higher, higher, higher.

"I'm going to miss these little talks of ours." Thor had said.

"Not if you don't leave." I'm sorry Tony wanted to say, Thor only smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. The Bifrost took him soon after (beam me up).

"I'm gonna miss him." Steve said softly.

"And you're gonna miss me. There's gonna be a lot of manful tears." I'm sorry.

"I will miss you, Tony." We know you are.

"Maybe I should take a page out of Barton's book and build Pepper a farm. Hope nobody blows it up." Tony said with a laugh as Steve shook his head with a smile too.

[neamrel]

ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ #10: i'm not sick


author note: a little story dealing with a long time character of mine who is a horse c;

sound. very subtle, but important. sound kept you aware of your surroundings, it eased your mind when in the blackness of night, it could keep you distracted when you were all alone. of course, now that he thinks about it, he wonders how deaf ones’ cope.

a rustle of leaves, the snap of a twig, the shifting of soil. things that someone who was deaf would never hear. small things really, easily overlooked by those that do not pay attention, but easily examined if one looked hard enough. the beginnings of a conundrum seemed to be hidden in there somewhere, but that was hardly important right now.

sound was important for him, silence easily switched between enemy and friend.

he used to like the silence, the calm that was eventually disturbed by the barks and howls of nonexistent hounds, by the pounding of imaginary hooves as they hit flesh. now though? now he could hardly stand it at times. making him nauseous and Cal would find himself on the ground heaving on multiple occasions.

those, surprisingly, were the easy days.

other days his mind took it upon itself to fill the silence, the noise it created would send him reeling, bringing up images he would rather forget. speeding his breath and making him pause to see if everything up until that point had been a dream. short gasps, coming in quick and not out fast enough, blurred vision and weak legs making him stumble and fall.

pounding of hooves, dead bodies in woods, bared teeth, a white coat, harsh orders, a sweet voice.

Cal snorted. a pair of crows called from above, catching his attention, a flick of an ear and a tilt of his head as he looked above. two black birds that were easy to see despite the thicket of trees that he now traveled through. he watched the crows and the crows watched him. despite the stupidity that Cal usually associated with these birds, intelligence gleamed in the pairs eyes.

"what?" far from eloquent, but Cal had grown past that a long time ago. the birds looked at each other, then back at him.

"you seem troubled-" "quite troubled, yes!" "-odd for someone like you" "a brute!"

ears pulled back at the jumbled sentenced the birds were speaking. "the point."

"a point!" "a point is hardly needed-" "quite true, quite true!" "-since you already know."

a wolf with Cal's personality would have had their hackles raised, all Cal could really do though is clench his jaw and walk away. it seemed this pair had nothing important to say.

"there he goes!" "running even when he knows." a flap of wings and the birds flew themselves onto another tree that was several feet in front of Cal's path, their movement drew him to a stop once more.

"your mind is what troubles you." "very true, very true!" "it's your own mind that plays tricks on you" "games are only fun when you play too!" "humans call is PTSD" "your past is controlling your present!" "sounds can set you off-" "crack, boom"

tensing of muscles, a shortness of breath.

"-or just you thinking. an illness they label it." "a disease!" "not physical, only mental, but real all the same."

forcing his muscles to relax, Cal expelled what air he had managed to take in. even if he had whatever it these birds said the humans called it, he was not sick. he couldn't be. sickness makes you weak. (you’re not sick, you’re not). Cal said nothing in reply to them, taking in another breath before shaking his head and continuing.

"some have ways to keep it at bay." "a pet or a pinch." "it helps."

these crows knew nothing, nothing about him or his life. he was fine. the pair of crows lifted from their second perch, gliding themselves above Cal as he walked on. a screeching caw left the mouth of one, and Cal flinch.

a coat black like his. a white coat in the distance. a sinister laugh.

a piercing pain to his temple drew him away and he glared as wings ruffled his mane, the owner of them drawing back into the air. Cal could now feel the small amount of blood from the cut one of the crows had decided to bestow upon him.

"a helping hand" "worked like a charm" "no harm."

"i am not sick."

"never said you were." "you assumed that yourself."

Cal shook his head, annoyance coming off him in waves, his emotions hardly made sense to him some days, so how could these two believe they knew anything when he hardly did. still, he knew there was little he could do to these crows but ignore them.

the crows, it seemed, would stay with him.

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

the crows never learned his name, and Cal never bothered learning theirs. Cal didn't care in all honestly, it kept them at arm’s length. not close enough to start caring too much, but not terribly far that they were all apathetic to their feelings and needs. the pair helped, in their own weird way. they kept the flashbacks and memories away, pecking and pulling at his mane, his unconventional anchors. they allowed the silence to fill the air when needed, then kept it at bay when wanted. either way, it worked.

Cal, however reluctantly, was grateful for that.

and it seemed that the pair of crows where glad to have some more company, for whatever reason, the pair alone should be enough for each other as they talked at every time of day. still, as the trio traveled more, it seemed that the crows grew more attached to their friend, and Cal would never admit it, but he grew attached too. (don’t get too close, they leave, they always do). despite his exterior, Cal always had a softer side to him, it has always been there, only hidden and revealing itself when presented with a possible companion, or something of the sort.

a white coated mare unable to conceive. a white coated mare turned enemy from friend.

this growing attachment from the birds seemed to include the crows bestowing trinkets in Cal's mane. the avians’ had a curiosity that could rival a cats’, leading them to travel to where the humans lived, returning after a couple of days, or weeks, with different baubles in their beaks like magpies. a small, silver spring on his tail, a rusted nut from a bolt in his forelock, a tattered green ribbon braided in his mane.

Cal had been wary to having such things knotted into his mane at first, but when the crows said it meant they belonged to him and him to them, he was too touched to break their hearts by rejecting their odd gifts.

(they’ll leave, stay safe, stay away)

when the idiotic pair did leave on their trips to the human settlements, Cal struggled, but he wouldn't keep them from doing as they pleased, and if it meant going a week or two on his own, with sleepless nights and painful days to only be bestowed with something as minuscule as another trinket to knot into his mane, he would deal.

this time was no different from the other times the crows had left. the silence grew to be too much, and Cal found himself on the ground, gasping and searching for something to anchor him back to reality, but nothing was there. ears pinned back, eyes tightly closed, teeth bared in a grimace. Cal tried to keep his breaths even.

dead body on the floor. soil soaking in blood. fear filled eyes now lifeless.

"not real."

he failed to convince himself.

a laugh filled with hope. hooves pounding the ground as they ran. a darkness trying to eat him whole.

"they're gone."

a full body shudder ran through him as he took in a rattling gasp, eyes flying open as he felt the latest episode finally end. sweat slicked his coat, and an uncontrollable shaking took over as he desperately tried to regain his breath. the fatigue that always followed was quick to come this time. his sides fell and rose quickly as he laid himself out completely on the ground, mind still reeling but now able to focus. where were those stupid crows?

muscles now worn after being tense for so long, Cal could feel how weary he was. getting up would be a struggle all its’ own, he wouldn't be able to manage. closing his eyes seemed to be the better option, so he did. he would hardly be falling asleep, he had found little since the crows left several days ago. they needed to come back. unless they finally decided to leave.

Cal huffed in frustration, it was too soon for him to be doubting right now, the crows always came back. no matter how many times Cal thought they wouldn’t, they always did, those stupid, persistent pests.

he was tired, so tired.

changing from his position laying on the ground, Cal lifted his head and folded his legs beneath himself, the feel of dirt and grass sticking to his coat from the sweat leaving an unpleasant feeling and he shook himself as clean as possible, knowing that in the end it did little good. he was certain that he looked sickly and worn, there was hardly much he could do about that though. it seemed like ages ago since Cal felt anything other than dead.

a soft caring smile, a warmth pushing him forward, an anchor in the roaring sea.

he closed his eyes in pain at the memories and lost warmth. there was no use dwelling on it, there was nothing he could do now, that part of his life was gone, he was here, not there. he needed to leave that all behind. how easy it was to see what he needed to do, it was always easier to say things that do though. it was plain to see that he was thinking too much, he needed to stop and listen, he needed to let the sounds around him drown his mind out for a while. the rustle of leaves, the chirp of a bird, the gusting of wind.

i'm not sick i'm not sick i'm not i'm not

[neamrel]

ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ #10: that december


December 16, 1991

(I know that day, it was that day)

The screen is frozen on a single frame, a secluded road covered lightly in snow. (god no, god no)

"I know that road. What is this?" Tony asks, panic slipping into his voice without his consent as he anxiously glances at Steve. The screen was clawing for his attention though as the video begins to play. (please don't, don't).

It's a split second before the car on screen is veering off the road, the crash from the assailant sending them right into a tree.
The gleam of a metal arm, a motorbike turning off, slow calculated footsteps. The driver (dad) laying on the ground beside the car. Tony can't make out what is being said, but Howard is reaching for the car (for mom?).

The winter soldier (barnes, steve - did he know?) pulls at Howards' hair, more words and Tony can't help the glare that he aims at Sergeant Barnes

he did this. he did he did.

The screen is screaming for Tony to look (looklooklook). Howard's dead. Dead in the snow. Deaddeaddead. Barnes is moving him to the drivers seat, a setup. Before moving around the back of the car to where Tony knows his mom is. Barnes reaches in with his metal arm for a moment before retracting it.

he killed mom. he took them from me.

Tony rushes for Barnes (he did this) but Steve is there to stop him. Get out of my way.

"Tony. Tony." Steve - Rogers - tries to say. Tony won't let him.

"Did you know?"

"I didn't know it was him." liar liar liar!

"Don't bullsh** me Rogers! Did you know?"

"Yes." As simple as that.

Howard looked for you. he looked. he cared.

A punch, straight and sure. make him pay. make him pay. A fireball explodes from his missile. Metal rains down. Barnes and he fall down a level. Steve is right behind them.

"Get out of here!" Rogers. Barnes begins to bolt. Tony begins to follow. Rogers stops him.

"It wasn't him, Tony. Hydra had control of his mind!"

"Move!" He took her.

"It wasn't him!" Barnes is already up more levels, Tony has tunnel vision and moves. Rogers grabs his ankle, the metal deforming under his hand as his boot is smashed. Tony frees himself and flies.

Left boot jet failing. Flight systems compromised.

Rogers is right behind them. Barnes leaps from platform to platform. Jets failing, Tony continued after him, getting close and kicking Barnes down. Repulsors charge, he aims, shoots, Rogers is there to block is. The repulsor shot hit's Tony (he gave you that shield).

Tony drops, falling onto a lower platform. He looks up. Barnes is farther now, Rogers hasn't moved. Tony moves. A wire wraps around his neck midair, jolting him backwards as Rogers drags him down. Let me go! Tony breaks the wire, hits aside Rogers shield, and tries to target Barnes.

Targeting system's knackered, boss.

Tony retracts his helmet (i'm eyeballing it) and shuts one eye. He aims true (now get him).

Holding Barnes from his neck, Tony snarls, "Do you even remember them?"

"I remember all of them."

"This isn't gonna change what happened." Rogers says from nearby - stay out of it.

"I don't care," Tony growls, "He killed my mom."

and me. you killed me that december.