2014-02-20 - You're Drunk, Stark. Go Home!

The night after Cap's mass. It's in the wee hours already. Tony has been drunk for hours and already did two drunken voicemails to Sawyer's cell phone. It's worse than that. The television is busted, there is liquor spilled on the bar, and how did he blast a hole in those very thick windows outside?! Oh wait, there is liquid metal nearby the wet bar where the armor is lounging right now.

And Tony Stark? He is on the couch in the large sitting room. His legs are stretched out, his button-up shirt unbuttoned and has liquor spilled on it now dry, his shoes off and only socks on. He is still wearing the funeral clothes. He takes another swing of the liquor bottle he is holding, it is almost empty.

The number of empty liquor bottles is daunting, it would have likely killed a damn elephant. How Stark is surviving it? Likely his Super Soldier serum.

The penthouse door slides open--and Natasha steps in, dressed in what she might normally wear out and about... jeans, a red shirt under her black leather jacket, boots... nothing that screams funeral. Her face has the slight glow of being freshly washed. She's carrying a box with a half-dozen of McCoy's homemade 'twinkies'... she had just come from the Avenger's Mansion.

She surveys the damage with a cold and calculating gaze.

Placing the box down, bending down to start picking up the empty bottles. She hasn't said anything to Stark yet, as she picks up the first few, intending to take them into the kitchen and put them in the trash.

Stark doesn't say anything. He likely knows Nat is there, but he lets her do her thing, and head to the kitchen. He finishes off the liquor in the bottle he has and sets it aside on the stand beside the couch. Course, he knocks off two other bottles while doing so, making room for it of course. His hand isn't too steady. He makes an almost chuckle laugh, then a snort. He doesn't really look at Nat right now.

Natasha returns from the kitchen, moving to the couch, and picking up the fallen bottles, as well as the one Stark had just put aside. She makes another trip to the kitchen, and then comes back, standing in front of the couch, her hands on her hips, staring at him.

A long moment passes as she regards his drunken form on the couch, wordlessly.

Then one of her fists lash out towards his face.

Considering how drunk Tony is, he doesn't dodge. He can't even THINK about dodging! So when he gets punched, his head gets knocked back hard, and he winces in pain as he brings a hand to his cheek area. He is kind of draped to the side now as he shakes his head to get the dizziness to go away. Kind of counterproductive. "What the hell," the words a bit slurred. "You don't show up....you just...disappear, and now you punch me? Seriously great...tops the day of you know."

Natasha doesn't respond, other than to hit him again, though this time, not in the face, but the chest.

And she launches another blow, also aimed at his chest, with the other fist.

Finally, she says, coldly, "You said if you did this, Steve or I would do /this/. Steve isn't here anymore, so I'm hitting you for all three of us."

Tony does take the next hit and the hit after that, then coughs, actually looking in pain. But his next words say, "Get the hell out! Why the hell you think I'm drinking?! Or did you just go climb in some damn hole?!” He does move to get up, but he has a wild look in his eyes. "You /lied/ to me!" He sways a bit and looks in pain, in more ways than one. "Just get out! I'll be sober tomorrow, hell, a few hours as I'm practically out! But don't come in here and...and expect to take Steve's hits, when you weren't there for me or him!" Yes...Tony's hurt, and being drunk isn't helping his temper, but he doesn't hit Natasha. He may have shifted to aggressive body language the spoke of physical action, but something stopped him before he did it.

Natasha's own posture shifts as his does-- combat ready, as opposed to the earlier more disciplinary one. She doesn't argue with him-- why should she? It's not like arguing with a drunk man ever leads to anything productive.

"You said," she says calmly, "that the drinking would not be a problem." She tenses, readying to swing again. "You have a hole in your penthouse and several broken electronics that say otherwise."

She regards him icily. "And never say I was not there for Steve. You have /no/ idea, Stark."

"Ya...well, you sure as hell wasn't there for me." Stark turns away, and actually starts to walk away. He walks toward the window and puts both hands on either side of the hole there made by a repulsor. He is very quiet for a moment, before he says, "Giving it all up...Chairman position, the Avengers Academy...I have to hunt down Red Guardian...carry out Steve's last wishes. Gotta take care of Bucky...don't want him," he groans. The cold air comes in from that hole, a high pitched sound from the higher winds up this high. "Do it anyway. Got to...heal things with Sawyer...Steve's wish." He laughs at that, "No way in hell!" He ends quietly, "Just go and leave me this one night, you already let most of it burn with me alone, why not longer? Or just enjoy hurting me more? Easier that way, isn't it? Hurt them, and they go away."

Natasha moves to Tony, her expression dark and angry. She had wept herself out earlier... tears did not come easily or well to her, and they made her feel weak. Stark wasn't the only one drowning... she was. Clint was. They all were, so much in such a short time put on their shoulders.

The main difference she saw between her and Stark was that she did not crawl into the hole of a bottle when she started drowning.

She regards him emotionlessly. "No, Stark, that's how /you/ work. I should know, I've seen you for years. Lash out, drink yourself into oblivion, do stupid things. I don't /enjoy/ hurting you." She turns around, facing the door. "But if I must, I /will/. You give up your responsibilities, your duties. And you lament the others you've been given. You're not a child anymore, Stark. Grow up."

She is silent for a moment. "The doctor thought it would be best for Barnes to have a familiar face there when he woke up. I'm the only one that qualified. I'm sorry I did not make it to the funeral..." she stops. "No, I am not. I saw it. I watched it. And I am glad that I wasn't there, because I could not have handled it." She scoffs. "Whatever you may think of me at this moment, I am human, too."

"A text message, a phone call...," Stark says roughly. "Anything than just /leaving/ me there, waiting for you. Wondering why you weren't there, what I did wrong, after all, always my damn fault. Everyone says so...so why not go with it? The world revolves around Tony FUCKING Stark! I get to choose the next Captain America! Fucking great, right?!" He doesn't sound happy about it at all, he sounds outright /depressed/ by it.

Stark chuckles. "You knew it hurt me Nat. You knew it would hurt me bad not being there, not even letting me know /why/. To say otherwise be /bullshit/. You knew when you did it...so why did you do it? Why didn't you at least tell me via a damn impersonal text message?!"

Natasha gives Tony a level look. "I knew you would have argued with me. Fought me. Begged, wheedled, pleaded, maybe even demanded. And I /could not handle it/."

She turns back to him, her hands resting on her hips. "Did you need me that much?" she asks finally. "Is that what this is, you needing someone to hold you and tell you 'no'? 'No, Tony, don't drink so much. Straighten your tie. Smile for the cameras. Your appointment is at two.' I AM NOT PEPPER."

Angry redhead, inbound. She steps towards him. "I am not Pepper, I am not Sawyer, I am not whoever it is you /think/ I am. I am /me/, Tony, and most days I am not even sure who that is. But what I do know is that I--" and she punctuates that world with a kidney punch, "--am /not/ going to just sit by and let you feel sorry for yourself. YES. I WASN'T THERE FOR YOU. You have Steve's legacy to handle. You have his old partner to handle. And yes, dammit, Tony, you have our child to handle. And I will not always be right there next to you for every god-damned step of it. I have responsibilities too, and some of those will take me from your side."

She looks for a moment if she might throw another punch, but then she slumps against the wall, exhausted. "I can't do this, Tony. Not alone." She takes a deep breath. "But I /will/ if I have to."

"Maybe I would have, maybe I wouldn't...you never gave me a choice though Nat," Tony states. This time Tony responds. He catches the punch toward his kidney, having seen it in the reflection of the glass that is still there. "DON'T," the warning clear and biting. He is sobering up, and his hand squeezes the fist that was for his kidney. "I wanted /you/, because I wanted someone to share the grief with, not fucking baby me! I wanted you to keep your promise or talk with me, not lie to me!" He pushes Nat away. "Ya...I can't do this alone either, welcome to the club. But you don't give me that choice. You always know the /right/ answer, the /right/ path, that you don't give people a choice Nat, you don't even give yourself a choice. You got it so damn stuck in your head that there is only /one/ way to do things, and that you can predict everything that everyone else will do. Well get a clue, you can't."

Natasha gives him a considering look. "That's a problem we share, Tony," she says icily. "Thinking we know the right path, the right answer. You think it is choice. I know that choice is an illusion at best, a distraction at worst."

"But we're not going to discuss that right now, Tony." That he caught her fist doesn't seem to anger her any worse than she already is. Actually, the fact that she /is/ angry is something, considering she usually simply freezes over. "I apologize for not telling you I was going to medbay. I am sorry that you feel that it was an intentional lie on my part to hurt you."

"Now, what do we do?" she asks.

Tony moves away again, just to get physically away. He retreats. It's what he does. "Like the hell I know," he says. He is heading toward the couch to just sit down again, stretching his legs out. He...looks older than he really is right now. "Since choice is an illusion, why don't you tell me how it is /going/ to be?"

Natasha pinches the bridge of her nose. "Do I look like I can tell the future?" she asks, a touch of annoyance in her tone. "Right now, I should walk right back out of this penthouse. Let you go back to your liquor and your wallowing." She crosses her arms across her chest defensively, turning towards him. "Go in, terminate this pregnancy, and go back to doing what I do best: field work. That is what I should do." It's not entirely clear if that's what she will do. Or what she wants to do.

But it's Natasha. Personal wants rarely, if ever, enter into her thoughts.

Stark's voice breaks, "Have the child, I'll take full responsibility. You don't have to see his or her face after the pregnancy Nat, I'll pay you money if that is what you want, and after the pregnancy it will just go away for you. You will be done. I'll quit the Avengers so you don't even have to see me. Anything you want...just give me the child." He doesn't look at Nat, but it's obvious Tony is willing to give up ANYTHING for the child. He just stares at the floor right now between his sock feet.

Tony can of course move back to California since Pepper is CEO of Stark Enterprises, he is already stepping down as Chairman of Avengers, and Hawkeye is handling the Avengers Academy. He can still fund them remotely. He already works the plans out in his head to make it happen, to give up nearly everything.

She hasn't been drinking, though she's still exhausted-- McCoy's advice regarding how to handle herself since /was/ pregnant has been entirely ignored up until this point. Maybe soon, she'll actually listen. Natasha makes her way to the couch at the sound of his voice breaking, sinking down onto it heavily.

"It isn't about that," Natasha says quietly. "This? Tonight? You /ever/ do this again, and I will not allow this child into your hands. Ever. Do you understand me? It is a target. How are you going to care for our child-- protect it from everyone who wants to hurt you, or me, or both of us? How can you do this when you're blowing holes in the wall because your way of handling a personal crisis is to drink yourself damn near to death?"

She looks over at him, seriously. "This child deserves a better mother than me, Tony. I'm no hero. ...I'm barely a step above the 'villains' we spend our resources fighting. It should have been someone like Sawyer, or even Pepper. Not me. You're a hero, Tony. Steve saw that in you. You are a good man."

Her eyes are pitiless. "I am not a good woman. I am someone who makes things happen, who makes problems go away. That is who I am. Understand this-- I may never be what you want as a mother, but if I carry this child to term, I /will/ do whatever I have to to keep it safe." And from her tone, and the look in her eyes... and her particular skill set? Whatever it takes doesn't sound pretty. "That includes from you, if I feel you are a threat."

"So you threaten me? This it? I play by your rules, or you murder the child or take him or her away?" Stark then smirks. "The Origin to Tony Stark becoming a Super villain. Because...I'd be scared of myself at that point. I could crash the entire communications across the entire world in one fell swoop with only a few hours planning." The sound is bitter. "How are you going to protect this child when you are missing for weeks or even months at a time while on mission or a sting? You can't. I'm home all the time, you /need/ me more than I need you Nat."

Stark then shifts to move forward. "How do you hold a child? Did you know their necks are so tender that you need to support them? Did you know that I've held a newborn before, or it was that very newborn that got me to sober up the first time?" A pause at that.

"You don't. You don't know what I've seen, what I've been through, or even what children mean to me. You just 'assume'. But I'll tell you something, you aren't keeping that child safe by entering the field again. When the Avengers get called on duty, we would have to decide 'which one of us goes?' That is if you are even around unless you happen to know a super powered nanny for hire," Tony states. "So I call /bullshit/. I doubt you have even really thought about that, or the fact you have to give up a lot Nat."

"It's not a threat, Tony," Natasha says quietly. "And like I /always/ have done, I will figure out what /must/ be done."

She regards him with a hooded look. "You play by my rules, or yes, I will take the child away. I will find a way to protect it from anything I must. You included."

"And that makes two of us, Stark. You have no idea what I've seen, what I've done. What I've been through. /You/ have no idea what I'm capable of." Natasha leans back against the couch cushions. "I agreed to play by your rules-- no field work while I'm carrying it. I've already arranged to talk to the Director early next week." Even Tony should be aware how unpleasant that conversation is bound to go. "This is a two-way street, Stark. We both have our requirements. I suggest you make arrangements to acquiesce to mine, or I don't /care/ what sort of modifications they've done to you-- you will never find me /or/ the child." Her tone isn't even threatening. She's just, as far as she's concerned, stating facts.

"And as for me needing you more than you need me? Go ahead and keep telling yourself that, Tony. If that makes you feel better."

"Nat....we would destroy each other and the child would be alone before you took that child from me," Tony says quietly, but very seriously, looking dead in Nat's eyes. He is not messing around and he doesn't break eye contact from Nat. Tony would go mad and insane before he lost the child. "You also have no idea who I am or what I'm willing to do." He leaves that to sink in. It isn't like Tony to speak like this. But he lets it sink in just how serious he is.

"You hold my deepest dream within your womb right now. This is not a game, this is not something with 'firm rules'. But there is something. I would rip the world apart to get to my child," Tony says with utmost seriousness. "And there isn't a place to hide in this world forever." He reaches a hand out to touch Nat's cheek, and the way he curves his hand about her cheek is...almost threatening and he smiles. "You will /never/ take the child away Natasha, not unless you put a bullet clear between my eyes. So you take that child, commit yourself to murdering me, because I rather be dead." Insanity? Pure despair? Tony has been pushed the edge and apparently now over. "Am I clear about this?"

"If that would be what it takes." Natasha doesn't flinch from the touch. She notes the look in his eyes... and her own narrow slightly in response. She sees the insanity dancing there. She knows that look well. She's seen it in far too many people over the course of her life, for different reasons.

"I will do whatever I have to," Nat says seriously. "Regardless of personal emotions." Once this child is born? It will be one of her missions to protect it, and she does whatever necessary to fulfill mission imperatives. That, at least, Tony should understand about her, having worked with her. Emotion not required.

"I don't see why it is so difficult for you to agree not to go on another drinking spree, Tony." A touch of disgust enters her tone. "It is a weakness. It is dangerous. And you act as if I am the one wrong, for daring to question you on it." She glances in the direction of his hand on her cheek, then back into his eyes. "You are an addict. You /will/ see to this. I'm not negotiating. This is my child as well. You want to bribe me into just going away. Well, this is not something you can just throw money at and 'fix'."

A hand snakes out, gripping his shirtfront. "I'm not something you can just make go away. Especially not after this. We will either work together on this, or in the wake of losing the best of us in Steve, the world will have to survive the worst of /both/ of us as we destroy each other over what we both want to keep safe." She pulls him a bit closer. "The world would not survive this being both our origin stories, Tony. We would destroy everything to destroy each other. It would be easy. You speak of choice? Here is our choice."

She leans forward, brushing her lips against his lightly. "Hate or love?"

"You ask for the /impossible/, that I be a perfect human being, and you use the child as a weapon or tool against me Nat. You aren't protecting the child, you are using the child to try and control me. You are a /moron/. Cap meant more than my own life to me, and that child means more to me than Cap, so think about /that/ for a moment," Tony states.

As the front of his shirt is grabbed, "I am not going to lie to you and make a promise I'm not sure I can keep, because I stumble, but I will keep the one that I won't let you leave with that child," Tony warns.

Then Nat's lips touch his and a shudder goes through him. "Right now, I'm hating you," he says intensely, but his hand is sliding up into Nat's hair. "Damn you Nat, don't take the child and don't fucking leave me...even if we don't stay 'together as a couple', don't leave me or the child." He then closes the distance to kiss her, a firm expression with mixed, conflicting emotion.

Natasha returns the kiss, her grip on his shirtfront tightening. "I'm not asking you to be perfect..." she argues, "just to not do /this/ again. Please." That last word is delivered with just the slightest waver in her voice.

His demand for her not to leave him, though, almost catches her off-guard. She releases his shirtfront, her arms sliding around his neck. She's slightly shaky-- it's been a long, emotional day for her too, and this fight was particularly intense.

"Hate me then," she murmurs. "I've already agreed to every damn thing you've asked of me in this."

"Just wait till I give Janet the O.K. to make clothes for the child, and start planning schools and playdates with other kids," Stark says with a bit of a smirk. Damn, does he really think about this stuff in his spare time?! His fingers massage her scalp. "Can you promise not to leave?" He isn't asking Nat to be 'his' forever, but to be there for him as...he isn't even really sure at this point, maybe 'partner'?

And boy does Stark's mouth taste of liquor! Come to think of it, he should likely go brush his teeth.

Stark then sighs. "I'll /try/. I'll try and speak with you before I go too far over the edge. But you gotta be there to talk to as well, like you said, two-way street. I can't do this alone." Least he is finally admitting it, how long has he been determined to do this alone?

Natasha barely manages to keep a neutral look on her face at the entire... schools and playdates thing. She has most certainly not been thinking about any of that. His question, though, is met with silence for several long moments.

Maybe she's lying. Maybe she's telling the truth. Maybe she doesn't even know.

"You won't be alone," she says finally, resting her head on his shoulder. She can still taste the liquor on her lips, though if it bothers her, she doesn't show it. Score another for her training.

Tony sighs, "I want to believe you," and he hugs her close to him. Yep, he smells of liquor, he got some ON his clothes. Time for teeth brushing and shower. Least he figures it out after a little bit of snuggling. "Is it just the room, or do I actually smell of liquor?"

Sometimes, it really, really sucks, the sobering part.

She lifts an eyebrow incredulously. "You, the room, your clothes, the couch, and I think parts of the floor," she replies dryly. "Also, there's a hole in the window." Nope, that part Stark's not living down for awhile.

"And I think I threw my phone out that hole after I made some drunken calls to Sawyer," Tony states. "Which makes absolutely no sense to do," he confesses, "Considering I don't need the phone to make a phone call." He was just THAT drunk. And depressed. "Well, could have been worse. Could have thrown myself out the hole," looking on the bright side.

Natasha snorts. "You'd have just bounced when you hit the pavement." She swallows, sighing. "...are you sober enough to shower? I'm not holding you up."

A funny look at Nat, "Yes...I'm not completely sober, but I'm mostly sober. It doesn't take me very long. It's why getting drunk off my ass is so impractical to do regularly anyway. Do you realize how much liquor that took drinking straight?" Tony looks very serious. "Needed the mental break though," he admits. "Need to find a more productive way to get a mental break though." And at least he admits that. "I'll add it to my massive to-do list." Mental note made.

A considering look is shot towards Stark. "Hmm." Natasha's fingers begin working on unbuttoning any buttons on his shirt that are still fastened. "How about a shower, and I have a few ideas on how to distract you for awhile than drinking."

And Tony just looks at Nat really, really funny. He just shakes his head. "You just better be happy I heal quickly, you don't hit like a girl." He then leans up to kiss Nat's lips lightly. "Let me at least brush my teeth first before we get anything 'creative' going." A lopsided smirk spreads across his face. It doesn't fully reach his eyes, but at least Tony is calm and 'more sane'.