Ok, so how about Tony, Loki and Bucky and "We could remake the world, we could make it kinder. "
Loki chokes on his precious Elvish wine, which is such an undignified reaction that Tony’s snort-that-could’ve-been-played-off-as-a-huff-of-surprise transforms into laughing so hard, he would’ve slipped off the seat if James hadn’t gripped his shoulder tight enough to leave bruises.
Enhanced humans and their chronic incapability to grasp the fragility of the human body, seriously. Bucky better hope Rhodey won’t catch sight of them – he’s due for a visit soon and he’ll spend all of it on making Bucky catch wine champagne flutes without breaking them if he deems it necessary.
Not that Tony doesn’t love isn’t amused by the mother-hening, but there’s more interesting things they could do with their time.
Like, say, take over the world.
“Kindness?” Loki sneers when he finally gets his breath back. “Kindness is the painter you hired who draws you in the best possible light. Kindness is an illusion, a soft lie endlessly reflected back and forth between you and your opponent, smoke and dust, with no flames beneath.”
Tony rolls his eyes at Loki’s dramatics, but the look he sends Bucky is fond. Reassuring, where his words can’t be.
“A wise king has many advisors and no friends,” Tony murmurs around a sip of bourbon, lets the weight of the drink settle on his tongue.
“That’s a sad way of looking at it,” Bucky points out.
There’s something heavy and set in his features and Tony finds himself reaching out, resting a hand on his flesh arm instinctively, as he feels the tension snap into place between them.
Loki’s gaze is a narrow, cutting thing, uncaring of any defense as long as it gets to draw blood. “It is the only honest way of looking at it,” he snaps, each word more biting than the last.
Tony squeezes Bucky’s arm. Hard. Feels the tension increase beneath his touch, although there’s no sign of it anywhere on Bucky’s face. The man can be as difficult to read as Loki, if for vastly different reasons.
For a long moment, Tony doesn’t think it’s enough.
Then Bucky averts his gaze. Murmurs a meaningless “Whatever.”, no heart in it. He’s tense as a bowstring, but the artful slump of his shoulders almost covers it entirely. And Loki may not be fooled – you can never tell with him – but he does all of them the favor of pretending to.
After Loki has long excused himself. After JARVIS has confirmed a complete lack of magical signatures. After they’re sure they’re alone, Bucky fixates his sternest gaze on Tony, the one that used to make HYDRA goons shake in their boots, for all that they pretended not to.
“How can you do this? How can you work with him, let him say these things, let him do them?” Bucky growls behind clenched teeth, a barely leashed beast yearning for battle.
Tony stills where he’s been cleaning up the bar, his back to Bucky.
“I don’t let Loki do anything.”
Bucky scoffs. “He took over the world. We both know he couldn’t have done it with you.” A grimace. “Us. What kind of leader, what kind of system will we put in place that spits on kindness and respect? How can you just– match him every fucking step of the way?”
Tony closes his eyes. Breathes slowly through the nose and out through the mouth. Opens them again.
Outside, New York, the United States, the world is still standing.
When you came to me all those years ago, my mother’s blood drying on your skin, what would you have done had I treated you with kindness? is what Tony wants to say. What’s been on the tip of his tongue for weeks now, as he’s watched the increasing sharpness between James and Loki, the escalating arguments that go far too far. Would you have accepted it? Welcomed it? Or would you have scorned it, for such a thing had no place in your world? Would you have disregarded everything I offered, been blinded by your own conviction?
[Loki is bitter and brittle to the core, one wrong landmine away from shattering beyond repair. James is ice, frozen down to his heart and soul, and though he has learned to undo some of the damage done, far too much of it involved learning how to live with the scars rather than heal the wounds.
Loki can be reasonable, but he is not kind. James can be merciful, but he is not kind. None of them are kind men, not even Tony. Especially not Tony. But.
Someone has to be kind. Among the three of them, that is Tony’s burden to bear. To hold up their illusions and continue their lies and refuse to throw the truth into their faces when they wish to remain blind to it.
It’s a kindness no one has ever bothered to show Tony. It’s all he has.]
And so Tony swallows those reminders of a past neither of them acknowledges and when he turns around to meet Bucky’s sharp gaze, the smile on his face is real as can be.
“Kindness neither wins wars no ends them,” Tony says and it’s as much a truth as all the unsaid things between them. “And I, for one, plan to win this one. Once that’s done…
Once that’s done we’ll build the best world we can from the ashes.”
It may be a lie. It may be a fool’s hope. But this, too, is a kindness to the both of them, and it’s the only one Tony allows himself to hold on to.