Okay, I. Have no idea who Ticktack is, [ Tony cuts in, with annoyed, muttered levity. A few rapid blinks and – okay. He's strapped back into the rollercoaster at 90 miles an hour, with all its sharp angles, drops, freefalls in space. Quantum realm. Time travel. Okay? He opens his mouth and closes it, tries to find a single word to answer the utter lunacy-slash-mindblowing-implications laid in front of him, tries to wrap his head around the fact that the secondary – tertiary piece of information here is that he is going to die, when–
Wilson leans forward. There's a look in his eyes, intense, weirdly familiar in a way that seeps into Tony's bones, shuts him up, makes his thoughts stop short as he sits there. Listens.
It's annoying – what happens when you give Steve two whole years to rub off on someone.
Sam's words hang, slow and steady, in the silence. Someone strides down the hall outside. Floorboards squeak. Tony realizes his thumb has been playing an anxious game against his lower jaw and he drops it to the table. Drums his fingers. ]
Sam. [ He pauses for emphasis. Makes sudden, fierce eye contact ] I'm only going to say this once, so I want you to listen very carefully.
[ Pause. ]
Tell me everything. Literally – everything. Because you're right – I know I'm gonna die, so that's already, uhm, three paradoxes at least, and I don't see either of us singing Johnny B. Good as my arm fades away, so just. Spill it. Everything.
no subject
Wilson leans forward. There's a look in his eyes, intense, weirdly familiar in a way that seeps into Tony's bones, shuts him up, makes his thoughts stop short as he sits there. Listens.
It's annoying – what happens when you give Steve two whole years to rub off on someone.
Sam's words hang, slow and steady, in the silence. Someone strides down the hall outside. Floorboards squeak. Tony realizes his thumb has been playing an anxious game against his lower jaw and he drops it to the table. Drums his fingers. ]
Sam. [ He pauses for emphasis. Makes sudden, fierce eye contact ] I'm only going to say this once, so I want you to listen very carefully.
[ Pause. ]
Tell me everything. Literally – everything. Because you're right – I know I'm gonna die, so that's already, uhm, three paradoxes at least, and I don't see either of us singing Johnny B. Good as my arm fades away, so just. Spill it. Everything.