#devoursgods

For a long minute, anyone in the room had to consider how someone with a severe heart condition and the added detriment of severely decreased lung capacity could smoke, but on Alana Stark the audacity of the action seemed so so natural, and it was hard to imagine her without something in her hands to begin with, fiddling as intermittently as the engines she fiddled constantly with.

alana tells her, earnest blue eyes meeting with the other’s. often times, alana will speak out of line and KNOWS that she will be ruffling feathers, or knows that she shouldn’t be doing it. this was K I ND  O F one of those times as well, but she believed that it was important to advocate for stark as much as she could----------------because lord knows she is the W O R S T   advocate for herself. for someone that was entirely self absorbed she wasn’t very good at selling herself in a positive way.

E S P E C I A L L Y  when she did something wrong.

‘ i am not taking her side---------------------B E L I E V E    M E. ’ alana says to her  ‘ i scold her OFTEN  for the way she treats you, and i tell her that she needs to stop taking advantage of you, because even the BEST of people have a breaking point, and i know, from the depths of my heart that she doesn’t want to push you to that point, but she might do it by accident if i don’t intervene. ’

alana really does hope that she’s not overstepping any boundaries; but then again, overstepping boundaries was what she did best. ‘ she’s not very good at advocating for herself; i knew if i didn’t get to you first, she would make an even bigger mess of this situation. ’

For all intents and purposes, the heir(ess) to the Stark fortune can be an absolute prince. She grins recklessly and there’s always that charmed expression. Hair always falls a little messily into those heart-achingly blue eyes of hers. What a gentle beast. She steps forward, instead, in that black, fitted Armani-- it’s very tight against the strain of her vest, the button-down beneath it. All elegant and sleek, all pale skin, all contradictory to each and every belief. Her lipstick is red. It’s a slash of color, not unlike blood. And from beneath that vest, straining in a flat circle, the glow is soft and whispered in shade.

She takes a hand and guides the other to her shoulder calmly, one clasping at a waist. She leads, always, and sways gently, pulls closer so it’s a chest to chest type of thing before she puts a tiny inch of distance between them-- doesn’t want Pepper to feel the dull vibration the Arc lets off, like a nightlight hum. “You don’t know how to dance with me,” Her eyes flit around self-consciously-- just a second. This puts both she and Pepper in a safe space-- this builds this little bubble, intimate and small between them. A safe space.

“I’m positive. I’m not hemorrhaging. Nothing major was hit. Escaped any tendons or ligaments. Superficial. Gonna be a pain in the ass to move for a few days. Not a big.”

She doesn’t move Pepper’s hand. Lets it stay there. Doesn’t even make it obvious, the way she wants to flinch or melt into the touch, she isn’t particularly clear on that much. She’s not positive if it’s welcome or unwelcome. She feels around with her fingertips in the impalement, yanks hard without meaning to.

Sir, that appears to be the last of the intrusion.

“Thanks, Bedeals,” she regrets this. Or she’s going to, “Pep, could you do me a favor and just help me out of this fucking suit? I liked this one, too. You don’t have to stick around for the ugly parts. I just can’t shrug out of this vest or this button-up and this jacket’s pretty much pasted on by this point. I’m a little tipsy and, you know, more you drink, more you bleed. —not urgent. Not losing enough blood for it to be dangerous. Just enough for it to be— a little gross.”

“Hey. Pepper.”

The elusive first name! Well, not exactly her first name-- she knows Pep’s first name is Virginia-- but she’s never really used that one with Alana. This, though, the use of this one is important. There’s a gauze pad taped down to her shoulder-blade, blotted with dark, aging blood. (It’s healing well. Only human, after all.)

But she’s kneeling, hands gently seeking out hands, looking, looking for that touch. She makes it, but she doesn’t grasp them. She just leaves her fingertips on the palms of Pepper’s hands and strokes a thumb over skin-- over and over and over.

“Hey. You’re cool. Just keep your eyes on me, okay? Just focus on me. Breathe.”

What she maybe doesn’t know is she had a heart before it was GLOWING in her chest. What she maybe doesn’t know is of every person on earth she’s NEVER wanted to be around, PEPPER POTTS is the singular human being she’s never tried to shoo away. What she MAYBE DOESN’T KNOW is SHE’S ALWAYS HAD A HEART, YOU COULD SEE IT LONG BEFORE IT BEAT OUTSIDE HER BODY, BURIED IN THE MIDDLE OF HER CHEST.

What MAYBE she doesn’t know is, ALANA STARK HAS A HEART. She never needed a machine to prove it.

Want her to stay? You shouldn’t have called her to begin with and you know it. But here you are sitting at your kitchen counter, blood drying in thick strips of dark scarlet over pale skin, and the Arc hums its metallic, constant song against your chest, and you stare blearily up at Pepper with tired eyes and a body that feels like it’s failing even if it’s only just survived the suffering it’s been put through.

The desert feels like yesterday. (Waking up begging. Waking up pleading. Waking up and up and up and where is your body? Where is your body? Where is the rest of your body? What is this thing?)

Bedelia must have called Pepper. Heart rate and vitals elevated well above what’s considered safe. You’d tried to claw Blinky right out, rip free the machine that didn’t seem to make any sense.

(It tasted warm and thick and cool and the familiar nausea chased it just behind, the cave-sick disgust that clenches ribs tight and leaves the gasping, panting, sweating, crying.)

The absence of a shirt is strange enough but it feels natural, somehow, and there’s stinging disinfectant gently swiping away bright red. Pepper’s careful. You breathe deep again.