who_is_she | (no subject)

(no subject)

Tony could never relax when Roddie went off on his own. No matter how long they'd been doing this, and no matter how many times the routine delivery or rescue had been routine, Tony always got hung up on those handful of times it hadn't been routine. Roddie hadn't even been gone that long but Tony was worried, even with Roddie's assurances that it was just a quick rescue. They'd gotten a distress signal that morning, claiming someone had crash landed on a nearby planet and needed an engine part to get going again. Roddie had taken the part and left in their shuttle, assuring Tony he'd be back in a handful of hours, and kissed him and told him he loved him.

Which was why Tony was listening to the distress message over, trying to figure out why it struck him as odd. He brought it up with Zakeef, and together they discovered that there had been a number of disappearances in the system attributed to slavers, and when they tried to contact Roddie's communicator it was jammed. So now they found themselves in another case of something-went-horribly-wrong and Tony had to leave Jackie with Vira while he, Zakeef and Boscha went after Roddie.

"Stupid Roddie and his stupid saving people all the time and being so brave I hate him," Tony muttered to himself, his hands flying over the controls as he scanned the planet for Roddie's shuttle.

"You do realize we all can hear you, right?" Zakeef says from the pilot's seat, and Tony glared at him.

"I don't care! I'm gonna divorce him and you all can know about it," Tony said, his voice angry and stressed, and Zakeef looks over to frown at him.

"We'll find him, Tony," Zakeef says, and Tony doesn't respond.

"There's the shuttle!" Tony says, marking the coordinates of the shuttle, next to a large old ship that could very easily belong to slavers, "Oh God, all right, we gotta get down there." Zakeef lands the Tacoma next to the slaver's ship, and they all suit up and get ready to blast their way into the ship and pull Roddie out.

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Roddie opens his eyes slowly, adjusting to the light of the room. It takes him a moment to realize his head is throbbing, and another moment to remember why. The last thing he could remember was that he'd taken pretty hard beating over the head when he'd come onto the ship. He tries to raise a hand to rub the injury, but finds that his hands are bound behind his back. Shaking his head and blinking rapidly at the realization, he looks around to get a better read on his surroundings. He's in a small, locked room, with a tiny window looking out into a long hallway. He can hear voices in the hall, and after he has a moment to ground himself he listens to what they're saying.

"Only one huh? Damn, this sector is dead," says a human voice, with a distinct, thick Australian accent, "And only half a man, too! How much is anyone gonna pay for a double amputee?"

"I still think we should just kill him and take his prosthetics," says a second voice, "I've never seen anything like those before, I'm sure we'd make more money selling those than the boy."

"True," says the first voice, "We'll have to wait for the boss to give us the okay, though, or he'll have our heads."

Roddie doesn't like the sound of that, and begins struggling against his restraints. They've tied him hastily with a zip tie, and after some very painful maneuvering he's able to free himself from his restraints. He looks around the room for a way out; they've taken his guns and his radio, of course (which concerns him half for his own sake, and half for Tony's, who he knows must be worried sick about him), but he spots the edge of a large vent behind the cot in his cell. It's bolted down securely, but the additional strength in Roddie's synthetic arm allows him to slowly pry the grating open wide enough to create a crawlspace. He crawls inside, stomach to the ground, and maneuvers himself inside. He spends what feels like hours crawling through the vents on his stomach, occasionally peering into other rooms, until he enters what appears to be a storage room, where he spots his jacket and weapons among what he can only assume are the possessions of other captives. It makes him shudder a little, and he promises himself he'll come back and free who he can once he's in a position to do so.

This vent is not as well secured as the others, and Roddie's able to untwist the screws from inside and carefully remove the vent cover. There's a guard posted outside the door, so Roddie is especially quiet as he retrieves his belongings from the table. He waits until the guard's back is turned and, making sure the silencer is placed correctly on his pistol, he opens the door and shoots him several times in the back, before ducking back inside the room, his heart racing. He fishes into the pocket of his jacket with shaking hands and radios for Tony.

"H-hey, Tony, you there?" he whispers, trying his best to keep his voice steady, "It's me, it's Roddie, I'm all right."

Tony's heart jumps into his throat when he hears Roddie's voice on the radio, and he shares a nervous glance with Zakeef and Boscha.

"Roddie?" he says, his voice shaking slightly as the three of them hold back just outside the ship, "We're just outside the ship. We're coming for you, okay? Where are you?" Tony was reassured by Roddie's voice, knowing Roddie was at least together enough to claim he was okay, though he also knew Roddie to claim he was fine with several bullets in his person. Tony nods at the other two and Boscha rushes forward, tearing the door open for Tony and Zakeef to come in shooting.

"Ah, I -- don't actually know, sorry," he says, laughing nervously, "I'm...in some kind of storage room. I'm going back into the vents, I'm gonna keep moving in case they realize I'm gone."

He heads back in, huffing as he crawls on his stomach but keeping Tony on the like, both to reassure him and for the comfort of hearing his voice. He begins to hear the sound of whirring machinery, a sound he remembers hearing when he entered the ship, and he follows the noise toward what he hopes is the entrance. He soon finds himself looking over a large room, full of industrial machines that seem to be up and running. He guessed this ship's purposes were twofold, or that it posed as a factory ship in case of inspection by law enforcement. After checking that the room is clear, he drops down onto a raised platform that extends over one of the machines, and looks down through the thin grating that separates him from the grinding metal.

"Okay," he says, "I think I'm close to the entrance, I think I see it, down at the end of this...whatever this room is, there's a big door, maybe an airlock, if I keep walking I'll--"

He's cut off by the sound of gunfire, and several bullets sink into the wall near his head; the room had apparently not been free of guards. He ducks, but the platform he's on doesn't provide much cover. There's more gunfire. None hits him, but he feels the ground beneath him giving way, and before he has time to react, he's slipping.

First, there's a sickening crunching sound, then a ringing in Roddie's ears as the machine slows to a stop. He feels nothing, hears nothing else for what feels like minutes. He doesn't even realize he's screaming until the pain starts to set in, and the last thing he sees before everything fades to black is his bloody, shredded leg caught in the workings of the machine.

"Oh, God, Roddie? Roddie!" Tony starts to yell when Roddie's voice cuts off, followed by the sound of gunfire, "Roddie! Are you all right? What's happening?"

"Go after him!" Zakeef calls suddenly, pointing to a door off to the side where he can hear the echoing gunfire, "I'll cover you!" Tony nods and dashes off, carefully following the sound of gunfire until he hears Roddie scream, a horrible, bloodcurdling scream of pain that makes Tony's blood run cold.

"Oh God, Oh my God," he says, breaking into a run and following the terrifying noise that tapers off into nothing. When Tony bursts into the engine room at first all he sees is Roddie, covered in blood, and he sees red. He aims for center mass of the slavers inside, the ones near Roddie, remembering Roddie's voice in his ear and Roddie's hands on his arms, telling him now, if you really want to hurt someone, aim here. Tony bellows in rage when one of the guards tries to rush him, and he punches them hard enough to send them to the ground and then shoots them.

When the guards are taken care of Tony rushes over to the machine with Roddie hanging over the top, unconscious and there's blood splattered all over him and all the way up the wall.

"Oh Roddie, no, oh God," Tony says, climbing up the machine to get a closer look, "Don't be dead, please, God, please don't be dead." He checks Roddie's pulse with shaking fingers and sobs when he feels it, thready but there, and turns his attention to the source of all the blood. His stomach turns over when he realizes what he's looking at, Roddie's good leg wedged in the machine, and Tony can't even see past his knee.

"I need help!" he shouts into his comm, and then swallows and realizes the machine is still grinding away, slowly dragging Roddie into its depths, and if he doesn't get out now he's going to lose a lot more than his knee. Tony swallows and braces himself on the machine, reaching down to get ahold of Roddie's leg and tug back. There's a sickening crack and squelch when Tony pulls back, the machine starting up again and Tony screams when pain erupts in his hands as Roddie's leg comes free.

The last thing he remembers before he blacks out is falling backwards off the machine, Roddie still in his arms.

~

Tony comes to a couple of minutes later, to Vira wrapping up his hand while Ajax works busily on Roddie. They're back on the ship, Zakeef flying as fast as he can to the nearest hospital, and it takes Tony a long while to realize he's missing a finger and part of a second one, and he has a couple of bullet wounds as well that he doesn't remember getting.

His wounds are fairly minor, at least compared to Roddie, and a couple of stitches and bandages later he finds himself waiting impatiently in the waiting room for news. He sits with Jackie in his lap, and she falls asleep against his shoulder while they wait for Roddie's operation to be over. Tony speaks to the doctor for a long time when he comes out, and then moves his vigil to Roddie's room, pulling up a chair next to his bed and taking his hand, holding it loosely with his fingers against Roddie's pulse, remembering when he had done this years ago, when they'd met Wirth and Tony had finally stopped being an idiot and realized how special and wonderful this thing between them was.

He holds Roddie's hand and drops his forehead onto the bed, the reality of the situation finally sinking in as he starts to cry.

Roddie spends the next day unconscious, finally drifting towards consciousness around midnight the following day. At first, he's barely lucid; he can't remember a thing, and for a moment barely remembers that the man he sees leaning over his bed when he opens his eyes is his husband. When he recognizes him, he lifts a heavy hand to rest on the top of his head and card through his hair, his eyes somewhat glazed over as he looks down at him.

"Tony," he mumbles distantly, struggling to keep his eyes open, "Hey, you."

Tony startles when Roddie touches him, jerking and sitting up suddenly, looking around panicked for a moment before he sees Roddie blinking up at him and his face crumbles.

"Roddie," he says, his voice shaking as his good hand grips Roddie's, "Oh, God, Roddie, you're awake, thank God." He swallows thickly, feeling his composure slipping yet again. His eyes are red and puffy from spending the last day crying and waiting for Roddie to wake up, and avoiding looking at the bottom half of the bed or thinking about his hands covered in blood and Roddie's screaming.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Tony," he mumbles, squeezing Tony's hand weakly. He brings it to his mouth and kisses it, letting his eyes fall closed again with his lips pressed to the back of Tony's hand.

"What happened?" he asks, as soon as he has the sense to wonder, "Why are we in the hospital?"

"You... you don't remember?" Tony says, his voice wavering as he glances down towards the end of the bed, "You... You fell." Tony means to say more but his throat closes up and his eyes start to water. He takes a couple of deep breaths, holding on tightly to Roddie's hand.

"Roddie... Your... It's your leg. I couldn't... I'm so sorry, Roddie," he says, sniffling and pressing his forehead to Roddie's hand, "Oh, God, I'm so sorry."

Roddie's eyes widen a little, and he peels back the blankets of the bed slowly and with shaking hands.

His throat closes and his heart stops when he sees that his left leg now ends in a bandaged stump near his mid thigh. He gets a rush of dizziness, and his blood runs cold when he remembers the events of the previous day. His chest tightens, and for a few moments he can't breathe.

"Oh, god," he says, starting to hyperventillate, "Oh god, oh god, oh god, it's gone, Tony it's gone, it's --"

He clutches at Tony's arm as the edges of his vision go back. He falls unconscious again -- it feels like only moments to him, though in reality it lasts several minutes. When he comes to again he's trembling violently, and he covers his mouth with his hands as his eyes start to well up with tears, and he begins to cry quietly and wordlessly into the hands that are now clamped tightly over his mouth.

"Roddie? Roddie!" Tony exclaims when Roddie falls unconscious again, standing up and sitting on the bed, reaching over to touch his face. Tony hugs him when he comes to, holding him close and shaking as he cries into his shoulder.

"It's okay, baby, you're okay, Roddie," he says, holding out his bandaged arm as he pulls back to stroke his good hand over Roddie's cheek, "I'm so sorry."

Roddie clings to Tony desperately when he reaches out to hug him and pulls him down onto the bed beside him, trembling violently in his arms and mumbling incoherently for several long minutes, until his heartrate starts to slow again and the machine monitoring his heartrate starts to beep at a more normal rate again.

"...I-I guess I've had worse," he says, his voice broken despite his attempt at a joke. He draws back a little, keeping his eyes focused stubbornly on Tony's face rather than allowing his eyes to drift downward. He only then catches sight of Tony's bandaged hand out of the corner of his eye.

"What...what happened to your -- oh, god, a-are you missing a finger? Did you --"

He feels another rush of sickness as guilt comes crashing over him.

"You -- oh, my god, you pulled me out of there and it -- you lost -- because of me, again, all because I --"

He pulls away, sitting up with tremendous effort to grab the wastebasket near his bed, and promptly slumps over it and empties the contents of his stomach into it.

"Oh, Roddie," Tony says, rubbing his back as he throws up and then reaches over to wipe his mouth with a tissue, "It's okay, Roddie, I'm okay, I'm fine." He runs his fingers through Roddie's hair, sniffling and leaning in close.

"It doesn't... I don't care, Roddie, it's all right, I'd lose way more than this if it meant you were safe, okay? And it wasn't your fault," Tony says, holding Roddie's face and stroking his thumbs over his cheeks, "I love you so much, Roddie, I'm so sorry, I tried..." Tony trails off, swallowing again and leaning back in to hug Roddie.

Roddie squeezes his eyes shut, and more tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he does.

"I-I know you tried, Tony, I know, I-I'm...I'm so sorry, you shouldn't --"

He shakes his head, leaning forward and pressing his face into Tony's shoulder.

"You shouldn't have," he mumbles, his throat closing up around the words, "You should have gone, it could have been...worse."

"Oh, Roddie," Tony says, wrapping his arms tightly around Roddie's shoulders, "I never would have left you there, not for anything, okay?" He takes a deep breath, calming himself a little with Roddie's presence.

"You know what I thought, sitting there watching Ajax keeping you from bleeding out? I thought: Oh, god, if Roddie dies we'll never get to be a boring married couple. We'll never get to like, have date nights, and buy groceries with--with coupons, and argue about whose turn it is to take out the garbage. I want all of that, okay? I want it all with you and I'm not--I'm not letting any stupid slavers or some stupid machine take that away from me, okay?" Tony pulls back, breathing hard, his expression determined and firm, and he leans in to kiss the corner of Roddie's mouth.

Roddie's face contorts with emotion at Tony's words, and his shoulders shake with quiet sobs. He closes his eyes and leans forward until his forehead touches Tony's, and this tims the trembling doesn't improve.

"M-maybe we should do that. Sooner. Rather than later," he says shakily, licking his lips in an attempt to wet his dry mouth, "B-before I...get both of us killed, huh."

Tony laughs breathlessly, nodding, his good hand rubbing Roddie's neck and back soothingly. Then after a moment he pulls back, realizing what Roddie said.

"Wait, what do you mean? I mean, we're already... married, so..." Tony pauses, swallowing, wondering if Roddie meant it the way he thought he might--like, starting a home together that wasn't built out of a tiny room on a spaceship.

"I mean, like, not...doing this anymore," he says, his voice weary and broken, "I mean...getting a house, or...an apartment at least, and going grocery shopping with coupons and arguing about the garbage and going on dates and going to play cards with our neighbors and -- we can adopt Jackie and get her in school and--"

He rolls onto his back, wiping violently at the tears rolling down his cheeks again.

"I don't know, Tony, I don't know," he cries, defeatedly.

Tony's a little bewildered by Roddie's response--not the tears, really, because he couldn't blame anyone for being upset in this situation, but the words paired with the tears and the heartbroken expression on his face.

"Hey, Roddie, it's okay," he says in a gentle voice, laying on his side next to Roddie and stilling his hands, holding them gently, "Is that... what you want?" he asks, carefully, "It's okay if it's not."

"No, I-I do, I want it," Roddie says, shaking his head and wiping his face on Tony's shirt, "I do, I just never knew when, I always thought it would be later, but -- there might not be a later, and I should have realized this forever ago when I thought I'd lost you, or, fuck, even way back when I lost my other arm and leg, but I keep convincing myself we have more t-time before it's time to quit, but I don't and I can't, I can't keep having you follow me into stuff like this, I need you to be safe and all in one piece and --"

He covers his face with his hands and grinds his teeth as he tries to stop rambling.

"I feel like...we're out of luck and I have to quit now or one of us is going to die before we ever get to have a family."

"Roddie..." Tony says, distressed by the obvious pain in Roddie's words, "It seems to me that... Maybe 'we'll die if we don't' isn't the best reason to settle down and start and a family, you know?" He says gently, stroking his hands over Roddie's back.

"I mean-- and I do realize the irony that it's me saying this--settling down doesn't guarantee that neither of us will get hurt ever again. And I don't want you to give up something you love just because... You're afraid. You love your ship." Tony sighs softly, pulling back to look Roddie in the eyes.

"Though I can't say the prospect of you getting shot at significantly less isn't appealing," he says with a crooked smile, attempting to lighten the mood.

Roddie shakes his head and turns his face away, his expression closing off as the attempt at comfort rolls off him. This was exactly why he had to quit; Tony would keep standing by him for as long as he kept doing things like this. His distraction and the pain relievers make it hard to follow the rest of Tony's words.

"Tony, I appreciate it, but my leg is gone," he says flatly, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, "I'm done."

When Roddie's expression closes off and his voice goes flat the bottom of Tony's stomach drops out and he's terrified, suddenly. Memories of similar expressions on the faces of his family flash in Tony's mind, and though he knows Roddie's I'm done is in reference to the work, he can't help but wonder what else Roddie might be done with.

He feels stupid and selfish immediately, for worrying about something like that when Roddie's laying in a hospital bed after an amputation. He swallows back the emotion and puts a gentle hand on Roddie's chest.

"I'm sorry," He says, his eyes watering again, "I love you."

"I love you, too, Tony," Roddie says, stroking his hand up Tony's arm and curling his fingers over the hand Tony has on his chest. He stares numbly at the ceiling for a while as his thumb strokes idly over Tony's fingers, gradually letting his eyes drift closed again.

"I...think I need more sleep," he mumbles, leaning his head against Tony's on the pillow, "I'll...say hi to the others in the morning.

~~~

It had been a long couple of months. Roddie's injury had been severe, both mentally and physically, and the road to recovery was a long one. Almost from the moment he'd woken up in the hospital Roddie had been withdrawn and sad, and Tony had never realized how constant and insistent Roddie's good cheer and affection had been until it was suddenly missing.

He'd always known Roddie was affectionate, but somehow in the last five years he'd gotten used to it, so that when it was missing Tony felt like he was missing a limb, too. He missed Roddie, intensely, and it was made all the worse by seeing him every day and sleeping next to him every night. Every day Tony warred with his paranoia, the little voice in his head telling him that Roddie was unhappy with him, wanted a divorce, and without the onslaught of Roddie's usual affection, some days the little voice won the argument.

Tony had to remind himself that this was his husband, the man who'd recited his vows with tears in his eyes, the man who'd sworn off his life of reckless piracy because Tony lost his little finger. Tony's wedding ring had been miraculously unscratched, though the rest of his ring finger had been mangled, and Tony had taken to wearing it on a chain around his neck rather than risk losing it.

He'd been spending a lot of time at his computer console of late, and he'd been making great strides in the development of his A.I., as it was a welcome distraction from the gaping loneliness. The AI was nearly complete, just needed some bug fixing and some error correction before Tony could consider coming up with a name.

Tony yawned and rubbed at his eyes, realizing suddenly that he was tired, probably because he'd been working for the last six hours without a break and it was nearly four in the morning. Still, he didn't want to stop, not when he was so close.

Roddie had been lying in guest bedroom of Zakeef and Ayin's house for several hours, trying without luck to sleep. It didn't help that Tony wasn't there in bed with him; even as withdrawn as he'd been the past few months, having Tony with him and holding him close at night was one of the few things he found comforting.

He was starting to ache from the loneliness he'd created for himself, and lying here in the dark alone was really driving home how badly he missed everyone, especially Tony. His friends had all assured him that it was fine, and that he could have as much space as he needed and they would be there when he was ready for them. Now that he was ready for them, though, he's not sure how to ease back into the way things were before, or if he even can.

These thoughts weren't helping him sleep, so he hoists himself up and grabs the crutches near the edge of the bed, not bothering to affix his prosthetic leg, and makes his way out into the hall. He can see a light through the cracks in an adjacent room, and he knocks lightly on the door before slowly pushing it open.

"...Hey, Tony," he says quietly when he sees him, clearing his throat, "You, uh...you coming to bed?"