Chapter Text
(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)
It was cold and everything hurt. Tony was pretty sure his arm had gone from sprained to broken, his head throbbed in that totally not fun concussion way, his chest hurt so bad breathing was painful, and he was just plain so damn tired.
Ok, so he would just lie here for a while, until he caught his breath, and then he'd plan what to do next. He couldn't give up, but for once he'd walk before he ran. Not that he was sure he could run, anyway. Walking... that had to be doable, right? I mean, babies do it... toddlers, anyway.
He heard an engine. Recognized it as a quin-jet. Rogers must have got himself a new 'friend'. Or maybe an old one from the remnant of SHIELD. Rogers...
He wasn't going to think about Rogers, not now. Getting out of here, getting back to... to what... well... Rhodey, yeah, Rhodey had his back and look what it did for him. Jesus. Rhodey's back. Tony couldn't die here. Rhodey would never even know what happened. And Pepper... Tony still, in his heart, hoped that someday they'd get it right, but that couldn't happen if he died in fucking Siberia.
He moved his good arm back and braced himself. "Easy. You can..." He pushed himself forward. There was a sudden, shocking wave of pain, accompanied by a burst of warmth running over his skin. His vision grayed and his arm flopped uselessly, sending him crashing to his side. "Maybe I'll just..." He felt his head slump to the cold concrete.
Something warm was touching his face. Tony blinked, and tried to focus. There was a white terrycloth towel next to him... no... it was a fur coat. The warm thing went over his bruised eye again, licking at the blood. Warm, and wet and he blinked again. It was furry, but it was alive. It was so close he smelled the hot, meaty breath and the odor of a dog that had never known pet shop shampoo. It wasn't a dog. He widened his eyes and tried to bring up his hands, tried to get the repulsors, tried to move. "Jesus!" he coughed and tried again, but moving hurt so bad he was afraid he'd pass out. All he had to fight with was his voice. "Don't eat me alive!" Wolves were supposed to be afraid of people, weren't they? "Can't... can't you just... wait?" He wasn't getting up, he wasn't getting better, he wasn't getting out of this. "God! Can't you cut me a break and let me die in peace?"
The white wolf sneezed and backed up. It growled, and was answered by other soft animal noises. Tony didn't have a good range of vision, but everywhere he could look, he saw fur, white fur, gray fur, brown fur. He wished Rogers had left his helmet intact. The only thing the wolves could reach was his head. It would really suck to be killed by having his face eaten. The white wolf stepped back again and licked at his cuts. "I can't taste good! I drink too much! And then, there's palladium and..."
The wolf looked at him. It had red eyes. And they glowed. "I knew there were wolves living in Chernobyl, but that's a hell of a way from here."
The wolf opened its jaws in a canine grin. And then it stood up on its hind legs and... put away its fur, becoming a man whose eyes were as red as the wolf's before they dulled to a more normal blue.
"Ok, so, dying brain, neurons misfiring, I could have come up with a better hallucination though, couldn't I?" Tony tried to make a joke, but he really didn't have the strength for it.
The naked man tilted his head, looking at Tony curiously, but he didn't say anything. He lifted his hand in an abrupt gesture.
Tony couldn't turn enough to see clearly but around him fur turned to skin as the other wolves shifted to people. "I know some medicine," one of them said, hesitantly in English. "Can I look? I'll be careful, I promise." He moved to where Tony could see him. The... werewolf... God, this was crazy... this werewolf had large, innocent looking brown eyes, thickly tousled brown hair, and an oddly crooked jaw that didn't seem to bother him.
"You're a doctor?"
The young man's cheeks reddened. He wasn't as fair skinned as the other werewolves, but the effect was still visible. "Vet's assistant?"
"Eh. Close enough. I feel like roadkill." Tony would have liked to have made an airy gesture, but his arm didn't even twitch when he tried.
"Guys, help me... here, easy, easy," crooked jaw said, directing the werewolves to pick away at the shattered arc reactor and chest armor. "Oh. Shit. Wait. Forget I said that. Um. It's... it could be better."
Tony had enough energy for an eye roll. "You mean I'm fucked."
"It's... I don't have x-ray vision, but Mr. Stark..." Irrationally Tony was pleased the werewolf knew his name. Even werewolves in Siberia know Tony Stark. "Mr. Stark!"
"Wha?" Tony opened his eyes. He hadn't noticed they were shut. Not good.
"I think a lot of... bits... have been driven into your chest. I really don't think moving you is a good idea."
"I hate... reruns." Tony deliberately closed his eyes for a moment. Somehow he wasn't surprised. He hadn't cheated death back in Afghanistan, but just put it off for a few years. "Pepper is going to be so pissed. We were going to get back together, you know?"
"Um," the brown haired werewolf said as he looked at the first one to transform. "This isn't my territory, so I don't know if I can offer..."
The white haired werewolf said in Russian, "I don't want him. Tony Stark would draw too much attention to my pack." He shrugged. "Our alliance is good, True Alpha. Do as you wish with him." Then he... well, it hurt Tony's brain, because, magic. Loki was bad enough. The white wolf shook himself, howled once, and ran off, with the other wolves following until Tony was left with the English speaker.
He looked at Tony. "Mr. Stark, if I bite you, you'd be like me." He picked up a piece of gold-titanium and slashed it across his arm. It bled and then healed in seconds. "You'd live, but you'd need a pack. Wolves go crazy without one. I mean, really crazy. I have a pack in central California."
"California? Huh. I'm sick of New York anyway." New York was the Avengers, was the worm hole, was the Tower he'd tried to make a home... tried and failed. Fuck New York. "Close to Malibu? I had a house there once. Good surfing..." Had Jarvis. Had hope.
"Not too far away." The werewolf picked more of the armor away from Tony. He was strong, but he was careful, too. Tony appreciated that. "My name is Scott. I'm the Alpha. I'll be your leader."
Tony looked into Scott's eyes. Howard would have sneered at him, at the puppy like softness, at the gentleness in his hands. He reminded himself that Howard had trusted Stane and Rogers. "Bite me," Tony said, and forced a smirk.
"Yeah." Scott grinned. His eyes glowed red and his jaw began to shift, growing fangs. "Stiles is gonna love you."
That would be nice, Tony thought as Scott bit into his side. It would be nice to be in a group that liked him.