Welcome Home
For the Roger’s family, it was only one night. For Steve, it was an eternity. That night was burned into his memory, how the doctors were eyeing him worriedly, how it seemed like he couldn’t breathe. He always had bad health but he refused to ever consider that his time was coming. Yet, as the minutes ticked by, as the people were coming in and out with more frowns and worried whispers he started to understand. A nurse left him alone, to call his family probably and off to get Bucky, on Steve’s weak demand. He couldn’t waste away alone, if he had to die, at least let him have someone he loves by his side. The door closed with a soft click. A second later, a veiled person stepped inside the room, from the shadows, and leaned over him. Their face was made of lace and cloth, not an inch of skin showing. Caught between dream and reality, Steve landed a fevered gaze on this new arrival. He narrowed his eyes at Them and They went to stroke his cheek, ignoring his unease.
“Your eyes shine so bright darling.” The Collector had good taste, and They knew what type of human They wanted for Themselves. They brush the sweat away from Steve’s forehead, humming a soft tune to soothe him, and pulled back the thin covers, unveiling Their new… Prize. Arms wrapped in silk curled around Roger’s frail body and picked him up, cradling him like a child and stepped back out of the room. Steve for a second felt warm, embraced by those gentle hands, and felt his eyes closed, too weak to do anything against Them.
And then he opened his eyes inside the Dollhouse.
Had you been dull and ugly I wouldn’t be here. Therefore it’s your fault. You asked for it. How twisted the mind of Fae was. As if humans were the ones at fault for their interests. Sadly you couldn’t talk Them out of it. Too pretty for your own good the Fae would say every time They would play with Their dolls. So in the Dollhouse Steven Grant Rogers had to live for days, and days, and days… At least he thought so, the sun never set in the Dollhouse.
Every changeling had their place in the Dollhouse. There were those who were fitted in the gardens, those who were jealously hidden away in the bed chambers, the servants who had to serve the favourites and the Collector, preparing everything for Their leisure.
Margaret Carter was another Fairest stuck with him. The Collector would always pick away Margaret’s lips so that she’d keep that blood-red shade. She would fight back, always, every time, unlike other changelings she stood against that monster. The Collector changed her body to porcelain, every inch of her except for her head. For her lips still needed to bleed and They didn’t want cracks on her sweet face. However, if the cracks on her body did stop her from walking and moving if it started to be too much… Well, he would fix it by pouring boiling, liquid gold in the cracks. Kintsugi, the humans used it for their pots, why not Them for his dolls?
You’re even prettier this way, They would say, Oh so pleased with Themselves. Look how pretty I made you.
They made sure Steven was pretty too.
First, the body, make it larger. Strech the limbs, break the bones as doing so, and fix them back. But the Collector didn’t like the soft flesh. Turn it to marble. Yes! Make it so it never knows old age and wrinkles. Margaret -No, Peggy- had cried for him as he couldn’t spill tears anymore. Her soft hands wrapped around his neck and he could barely feel them. Only Steve’s eyes were spared. After all, they’re the reason The Collector noticed him.
Then came the carving. The final touch for his little Steven. The worse part. But after that, the Collector didn’t change him anymore. Sure They kept sliding Their fingers inside the curves, to feel the sharp edges mixed with the soft, cold, texture of the stone, but at least it didn’t hurt.
At every touch, every caress the Fae gave them, Steven’s eyes would shine with the will to tear this place down, to fight back. Just like pretty Peggy, his soul was burning with rage rather than despair. Oh, how they were beautiful and so determined to remain unbending. Oh, how They loved this passion only They could ignite in them. Passion, after all, is so close to love. And the Collector loves them so much too.
So,
So,
So,
So much.
Bucky had stepped into the room a minute after the nurse said Steve had asked for him. The family and he had been allowed to stay the night since Steve’s state was worsening and they didn’t think he would make it. He walked onto a gasping and writhing Steve, his body twisting in pain. He had rushed to his friend's bed, grasping his hand that was cold, so fucking cold, even though that same hand had been burning up in fever not too long ago.
Bright blue eyes snapped back open in a too-big body and broken mind. He had to hang onto his friends, dry sobs leaving him as Barnes hushed and hugged him back. The werewolf hadn’t dared to mention how changed his friend looked back then. When everyone else finally rushed into the room due to the agitation they were struck by the bigger, stronger, body that Steve had: no medical explanation could justify this sudden change. Sarah Rogers didn’t dare approach him for a while, for her son had turned into a stranger in the blink of an eye. Doctors had tried to poke and take blood tests from him but the fairest had refused any type of follow-up. He just wanted to leave this hospital bed, leave the room before They came back for him. He left in the morning. If they have all witnessed the physical change, no one noticed the wedding ring on his finger.
He only told Bucky about what happened. It took months before he found the strength of pulling off the ring and showing him what had been done to him. As he traced the lines that were drawn on his skin he told him about Arcadia, about the Collector, about the one he had to leave behind. Then he would weep, sobs shaking him without tears, the horrible reminder that his body wasn’t his, that he lost it, They took it. While Bucky was holding his friend, soothingly rubbing his back and reminding him that he was home, the werewolf wondered how did he manage to fail Steve when they had been just a room away.
“Can you stay with me tonight?” the fairest would ask some nights, like a child after a nightmare. And the werewolf would stang guard so that his friend could sleep.
Arcadia was ever-changing, it was so easy to get lost. Steve was looking around with worry, expecting to see a Fae peep out from behind a tree. He gathered up his wits and raised to his feet, still reeling from the fact he had tumbled back to this forsaken place. He didn’t regret jumping after Tony. Hadn’t he managed to catch him, the Wizened would have hurt himself badly at the landing. At that thought, the Fairest ran a cautious hand on the shoulder and side who took the brunt of the fall. He couldn’t feel any cracks in his body so he should be fine. it was hard to tell when your body didn’t really register pain.
“You’re okay? Fuck, you didn’t break anything did you?” Tony asked, snapping his companion out of his thoughts.
“I’m fine, don’t worry.
“Excuse you, I’m not worrying I’m freaking out.” snarked Tony as if that was an argument to a discourse.
Once more Steve pondered about Carbonnel and how did a man who, knew enough about wyrd and science to create a magical prosthetic, have the guts to prepare a trip to the land of Fae and throw himself into a portal without any plan B (as far as the Fairest knew) could then claim to be freaking out.
“You do realize I was not going to let you go alone?
“... No? We aren’t friends Rogers, we’re barely colleagues!
“Does that mean I was supposed to leave you to your fate and let you fend for yourself in this damn world?
“ Yes! What am I going to do if anything happens to you?
“Then you know how I felt when you jumped. You’re right, we don’t know each other, but I ain’t lettin’ no one throwin’ themselves in a suicide mission alone.” his voice got louder and rough at every word, his Brooklyn accent taking over some of his words. A consequence of his patience running thin.
Both changelings glared at each other, tension high and electric. They held each other’s gaze before Tony turned around first, letting out a shaky breath. His face was flushed and red out of… I want to say anger. the Fairest thought, but it sounded wrong, strangely. After all, he also felt like he could breathe again now that he wasn't fighting against the burning dark eyes of the wizened.
“Well, welcome to the circus then. Let’s just get moving,” Tony growled. He was annoyed and will be for a while, but he wasn't going to be able to do anything now so he'd rather keep his focus on his goal.
To follow suit with his statement, the mechanic started walking, his legs, oddly, clunked at every step. None of the two-man paid attention to it: for now, they had other issues to deal with.
“If we don’t move, the place will move us instead, it hates stillness.
“How would you know that?” Steve asked, following him closely.
“I already travelled through Arcadia once, when I escape. Took me quite a while but I found a Faerie ring that brought me back. Wasn’t a pleasant experience. Don’t worry, that’s our first stop so you can go back to the human world.”
The fairest wasn’t dum, he knew what the Wizened had in mind and he didn’t like it one bit. Steve grabbed him by the arm and pulled him against him, forcing him to look him in the eyes.
“The fuck Carbonnel? You just want me to leave you without looking back?! What if you cross paths with one of Them? What if you get caught and you have no one to help you?
“I won’t get caught!” Tony’s voice started to get louder, defensive. “I’ve prepared for this trip! And even if the risk is high, not going to lie about that, I worked hard for this moment! Not-not you!” His voice had gotten softer at the end, remorse and pain crossing his face as he whispered:
“Not you… I’m here to save someone, not at your expense. I want to get you back to safety first or I won’t be able to concentrate for Rhodey.”
Rogers gulped, casting his eyes away from the intense gaze of the mechanic. He was touched that Tony wanted to protect him first but he couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling that the man in front of him will throw himself into the fae’s hand the second he’ll be safe.
“Had I known that was the deal with you and Fury, I would’ve stopped this.” he expressed coldly which upset the wizened who huffed at the offence.
“Oh for fuck’s sake! Why do you care?” the brunette, rhetorically, groaned. Steve stared at his retreating back and didn’t answer. Instead, he silently followed him.
I care because- He thought about Tony spitting hate in his face, accusing him of liking his kidnappers. Of Tony being hurt and jealous because Steve still had a family to go back to. With wounds too fresh to heal and with a distrust for the only people who could understand. With eyes too young and wild for the body he had.
I care because we aren’t so different.
“We need to reach higher ground. Arcadia doesn’t make sense but if we get a clearer point of view it would be safer for us: we will be able to see the danger coming.
I care because- He thought of when the man sat next to him in the pub with a drink of doughnuts, who saw how shy and lonely he was in the pub and decided to stay by his side.
“You know the higher ground theory only works with Obi-wan right? If we can see the danger, then They can see us. Better to stay low instead.
“That’s what They’ll expect from us. It tricks us in a false sense of security. We need the do what’s unexpected for us. Fae understands that we have a survival instinct but wouldn’t get why we would work against it.
The mechanic stayed silent for a few seconds before mumbling away.
“Damn, that is actually smart. Okay, let’s go fifty-fifty: we can aim for a clearer view but we need to be able to run back to the forest if necessary. Like, walk on the flank of a hill or mountain?”
The fairest nodded his agreement.
“Ok. Let’s do this.”
I care because you’re one of my own, Tony.
They walked for a long time without finding any hill or flank to climb. Actually, the more they walked on, the bigger the trees became, the larger the rocks turned, and the taller the grass grew. Until they felt like ants in this wide and neverending forest. The good thing, in the fairest opinion, was that the morning dew seemed everpresent and Tony could drink without taking upon his own reserves. The mechanic noticed that Steve, on the other hand, didn’t take upon the free water that was given to them. The blond man shrugged:
“I don’t have to drink or eat. It’s just a luxury for me.
“What do you- You ate in Valholl, didn’t you? You gobbled up those doughnuts!
“You did, actually. But if you listen to what I’m saying I’m telling you I don’t have to. Actually many changelings who, like me, had massive changes to their body end up not relying on food or water unless they’re in public.
“That sounds- actually pretty useful. Damn, I could binge work without needed breaks if I-never mind!” Tony caught himself at Steve's unimpressed glare. “Sorry, that was really insensitive on my part.”
Steve sighed and turned away from the Wizened, catching his reflection in a drop of water that was sliding its way down a giant dandelion stem. He heard tony coming up behind him before noticing the stretched hand, cupping up some water and handing it to him. Taken aback by the gesture, his hand caught the hand that was coming closer to his face.
“What are you-” he stopped as he realise that the hand he had stopped wasn’t made of flesh and skin.
He could only see the hand and wrist before it went under the sleeves of the changeling, but it was enough to notice the wires holding together what look like a clunk of metals, a pale imitation of fingers or bones. The wizened noticed the too-long stare and pulled his hand out of his grasp with a glare.
“What? I’m just trying to be nice here.
“Tony-
“You may not feel thirsty but; trust me, any sense of normality such as drinking will help us stay sane. And you know what, since you’re the one who followed me here, you should listen to me without question. The lest you can do after barging in my expedition; unprepared might I add.
“Tony your glamour-
“What my glamour? I don’t wear-” his sentence came to a stop when he realize what Steve was talking about. He jerked his hand back towards himself as if it was the first time he noticed it. And it was, Steve realised, Tony’s hands weren’t changed when they landed here. It seemed that whatever glamour he had it was peeling off little by little. Without Tony controlling it. The Wizened slowly rolled his sleeve up to his elbow and asked with a shaky voice. “W-what is this?”
Rogers couldn’t take his eyes off the, now, mechanical limb that was on display. It seemed that up until his shoulder, the flesh had been replaced. Or not completely at least, it look like at some place raw flesh seemed to pulse slowly as if to remind the onlookers that this is not just some robot parts. He went from the arm to Tony’s expression. Why did he look like this? How come he looked so horrified by his own arm.
“I guess I shouldn’t be able to see the metal.
“FUCK” Tony backed away with an enraged scream. He seemed horrified by the idea of his true form revealing itself.
Without a thought for the stunned blond changeling, he turned his back and sunk back in between the leaves. It took a second for steve to blink back to reality and rush after his companion. Luckily for him, the many “Fuck!” and variations of it coming from the other man’s mouth made him hard to lose sight of.
As he caught up with him, he blocked his path forward, making Tony come to a stop. The smaller man raised his head and the anger, the pain, in his eyes almost made Steve feel bad for not letting him calm down first. Sadly, it was not the time and the Fairest knew they couldn’t afford outbursts like this in enemy territory. They stood in front of each other. Steve scanned Tony for any signs that he was calming down and Tony held his gaze with mixed emotions. After a while Tony said:
“You can’t just get upset and leave Carbonnel. What if we get separated, then what? Wel’’ be perfect preys for the Fae.
“ You shouldn’t be able to see it . I shouldn’t be able to see. I haven’t, not since- ” Tony's voice was shaking. With anguish? With anger? Probably both… Thought Steve. “It was normal back in the real world so why here-
“What does it matter?” asked the Fairest exasperated. “Wyrd works differently here no? There is so much more magic in Arcadia your glamour is probably off.
“No you don’t understand! Ever since I came back I was treated by everyone like a freak because I looked human! It wasn’t glamour! It was flesh! Skin and bones, I didn’t- No one understood how it was possible, I saw, fuck it, felt my arms being broken and ripped off when They got me! And then they were back, believe me” he said voice trembling "It was blood when I cut my skin."
Tony wanted to run his hands through his hair, but the second he felt the cold iron that his fingers were made of, he snapped them back away from him. Steve didn't know what to say, just stared horrified at the revelation that the mechanic had harmed himself just to check that his body was real just to see his worse fears coming to life under Arcadia's twisted reality.
“I rolled with it. Even if people treated me like shit. Even when they all wanted to poke at me when they accused me of being a fake. They called me, the fake because they were jealous that I was the most human of all and yet could still handle wyrd. But now this, this body is back?! It was just turned off? What if it implies They’re here? What if it means that for all these years the Blacksmith-
“Tony, Tony, stop you’re having a panic attack. Which is- probably not unexpected after everything.” Steve mumbled in realisation.
Blue light seemed to pulse brighter under Tony's shirt and the wizened crossed his arms over his chest, pressing them as if to shove the light back inside his chest. Steve stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him.
"follow my breathing Tony." H e took in a deep breath and rubbed Tony's back, cold marble hands on burning pulsing wires. The fairest couldn't feel the heat of course, so he didn't realise how soothing it felt for his companion.
After a few minutes, after soothing words and Steve's large presence surrounding the smaller man, Tony managed to settle himself a bit. Yet, his mind was still reeling as he couldn’t take off his eyes from those metallic hands.
“Am I turning back into his toy?” he whispered shakily through his teeth.
Fuck, Steve didn’t have an answer for that. All he could do was pull the man against his chest and tucked him under his chin. He felt the body in his arms shaking and he was amidst of what to do. Tony was overwhelmed and scared. Which was the worst situation ever because it was his stubbornness and loyalty towards his friend which fueled this trip. He had to take care of himself, plus he felt responsible for the Fairest's safety.
Steve Rogers knew that it wasn’t the time to let panic get the better of them. Oh sure, if they ever managed to leave this god-forsaken place, he will let himself have a breakdown but not at this moment. It wasn’t for nothing that he was chosen to be the knight of the Court, he was a soldier after all. Even then, he was also starting to freak out: if Tony wasn’t even in control of how his own body is even made of… Then Fae couldn’t be far. They were the only ones with that much power. They needed shelter quickly. To find their cool back, to settle and prepare for their next move without the stress of being discovered at every second. Their lack of attention could cause them prejudice and be their death. Or worse.
With determination, he wrapped his hand around Tony’s arm and pulled, making the changeling stumble after him. Tony raised his face at Steve, tears glinting in his eyes.
“I got you Carbonnel. Let’s move.
“I-if They find. If I tell you to run, run, They’re strong, They’re horrible, They’ll break you-
“Every fucking Fae in Arcadia fit this description. Also, I jumped after you fully knowing the risks. I’m. Not. Leaving.”
The good thing with out of proportions trees and roots is that it makes it easier to find a small hiding place. The changelings managed to find a split in the bark of an oak tree and squeezed their bodies in the narrow space there. Steve sat in front of the entrance, letting Tony curl at the end of their hiding spot.
As the silence stretched between them, Tony pulled up the leg of his trousers. He let out a curse as his fingers ran over the rust and wires that makes his leg now. With a shaking hand, he pressed his palm against his chest. He had enough layers so the light wouldn’t seep through but he could still feel the bump that shouldn’t be there on a human body.
“Tony?” the Fairest asked worryingly.
“I… I don’t understand… I thought-
“Tony this doesn’t mean anything. It could just be Arcadia reacting to your wyrd."
The wizened shook his head. "This is my real body. This is what They did to me, I don't understand and I'm not happy to see it but... Fuck I was treated differently because of its absence and now it's back? What the fuck..." he mumbled, exhausted.
He then turned towards Steve that was looking at the ground, back straight and hands on his knees, looking like all the part of the perfect human statue that he was.
“How the fuck are you so calm? I’m the one who was supposed to be prepared and-
“I lived a decade as a changeling among a pack of werewolves. I followed them on their hunt and even if I haven’t seen anything as powerful as a Fae, I’ve had my fair share of horrible supernatural adventures. So…” Steve gave him a rueful smile. “It helps. The only moment that was really fun was barbecue night.
“Wolfies know their way around meat it seems.
“... Why?
“Come on! That was a good one.”
“Well, at least your humour is back.” Steve smiled back at the Wizened who snickered.
“Yeah well. What can I say? You’re literally shielding me, I feel kinda safe. I mean you've still got your shield strapped on you.
“Kinda safe? I’ll take it.” The fairest smiled adjusting his armour on himself. He then gave a glance behind him, looking at the forests stretching wide, still under the bright light of the sun.
“Sun seems determined to stay. We could rest here and go when you feel rested.
“I’m not tired.” Tony snapped before cringing in guilt. “Just… I’ll be good in a few minutes.”
Silence stretched once more but tiredness, this time, got the better of Carbonnel who didn’t manage to stifle a yawn. Rogers gave him an amused smile as he saw his companion give up on being stubborn and settling more comfortably against the rough exposed bark.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”
The fairest raised an eyebrow at that sentence. Clearly giving him a look that could be translated by: I have told you one too many times this is my choice, say that again and I will gag you.
Tony seemed to get the spirit of it and rolled his eyes at the glare.
“But thanks… I know it’s selfish for me to feel this way but it feels good to have someone in this hellhole.”
Will you stay with me for the night Buck? Please, don’t leave me alone.
“Don’t sweat it.”
The mechanic stayed still for a second, before crawling closer and sitting next to him. He hesitated a few seconds before lying down, his head on his legs. Steve didn’t move, surprised by the action but welcoming it anyway. He waited, looking as Tony closed his eyes and whispered:
“Thank you.” For staying. For being kind and stubborn.
With emotion, the Fairest realise that the changeling was comforted by his presence. Enough to let himself be taken by slumber. After all, he was mentally and physically exhausted from the voyage and adventure they were in. Steve watched him with a soft smile and reached for the metallic hand and squeezed it softly. Tony hid his smile as he curled up closer but squeezed back.
It was a shitty situation. It was going to be one hell of a voyage. But it felt less hopeless suddenly.
Steve waited until Carbonnel’s breathing settled. When he did, only then he felt safe and whispered as if he was confessing a secret to the Wizened:
“You don’t know if you’ll make it out of Arcadia, you don’t know if you’ll ever find Rhodey, but even then you’re still trying to bring him home. Some would call this foolish.”
He leaned and stretched his hands towards the sleeping figure and brushed his dark curls. Once again he felt his eyes burn with the many tears that cannot fall. He thought about Peggy. About the beautiful woman who once took his hand and took him out of the Dollhouse. Who told him it was fine, that he was free, the Collector cannot touch him now. She’ll never let him. He thought about the ring she gave him on the doorsteps of their prison. The second it slipped on his finger the scars and carving in his body faded. Leaving the illusion of immaculate skin. He thought about when he left, he didn’t dare to go back. Leaving Arcadia, leaving her behind. The eyes haunting him were those of the one he trusted the most.
“I dare to call this brave.”