"Strange Allies" - Ghost Rider/Iron Man Crossover
Title: Strange Allies
Author: Jade Blood
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All this belongs to Marvel! I'm just playing in their sandbox. No profits were made from this.
Characters: Tony Stark, Johnny Blaze, James Rhodes, and Jarvis.
Summary: Iron Man has a rocky first meeting with the Ghost Rider. (Movieverse)
Author's Note: Ghani, I blame you! A Ghost of a Chance made me sit down and work on this until I had finished it. And I might even write a sequel if I can work it out in my head. :D



“That went well,” Tony intoned calmly.

“If you consider leveling a parking garage ‘well’,” Jarvis replied.

Tony made a scoffing noise. “It’s after dark. No one was in it. You ran a scan first. A quick one, yeah, but it was clear.”

“Of course,” Jarvis replied. “Should we be heading home now, sir?”

Tony considered the question, executing a barrel roll over the top of an office building to which they were coming eerily close. “Actually, I’d like to patrol a little. My civic duty. Maybe it will make up for that wreckage back there.”

“It is the thought that counts,” Jarvis said.

“I should have never let Pepper convince me to download little nuggets of joy into your memory banks,” Tony grumbled.

Night flights still held a taste of nostalgia for him, though he would never admit this out loud. His first flight had been after dark, heading straight for the moon. Of course, he’d nearly died in the process, but then that simply brought back memories of the rush it had given him. He had realized then what he’d been setting himself up for, that with this awakening would come the responsibility of laying his life on the line for others. Cutting through the blackness, narrowly avoiding obstacles as he soared too low for his own good, reminded him. Albeit, he was also enjoying the ride and “patrolling” was an excuse to continue.

Tony knew it wouldn’t be long until Jarvis shot another quip about the late (or in this case, early) hour his way, so he readied himself to turn back home when his sensors picked up a yellow and orange streak below. He would have ignored it if not for the fact that they were registering temperatures that were simply unheard of.

“Good God, what the hell is that?” Tony asked, skidding to an awkward, hovering stop in midair. “Like a grease fire on crack?” He paused, and when Jarvis didn’t answer, he wondered if the AI had been baffled into silence for once. “It’s like… a comet. That’s just not possible.”

Jarvis finally did speak up when Tony angled himself to dive in for a closer look. “Sir, this sort of phenomena--”

“Don’t start,” Tony grunted as he soared further in. The trail of flame that was steadily and rapidly moving down the mostly deserted street had a source, and now that he was allowed to get a zoomed in view, Tony couldn’t hardly believe his eyes. “Uh, Jarvis? That guy on the motorcycle. Is… his head on fire?”

“I believe so,” Jarvis answered, sounding puzzled but not horrified.

“Should I… help him?” Tony asked, though it was unclear if the man felt any pain, not to mention that the fire seemed to have progressed until his skin was entirely gone.

“If you feel a pressing need,” Jarvis replied. “Only allow me to point out that his vehicle is reaching speeds well beyond the norm. We are currently traveling at over one hundred miles per hour and not having the easiest time keeping pace with him, sir.”

That pestering voice in his helmet was barely a blip on Tony’s personal radar. He was much more concerned with either seeking a resolution to this new “problem” or getting to the bottom of its mysterious origins. After outing himself to the press, Rhodey had been sure to scold him up and down, and one of the subjects his friend was most adamant about was that of adversaries Tony would face. With all the patience of a man speaking to a five-year-old, Rhodey had told Tony that enemies, possibly foreign ones who didn’t have America’s best interests in mind, would start coming out of the woodwork. With Tony using a superhuman suit, they would start to boost their efforts in return, and things would soon get ridiculous. Tony felt his stomach flip and sink when he considered this newcomer alongside Rhodey’s warning.

He swooped in close, watching his speeds clock in at a hundred fifty miles per hour, to greet the flaming rider as casually as possible. “You do know your skull is on fire, right? You might want to see to that.”

Eye sockets, empty aside from turning flame, whipped his way as the creature’s entire head turned. Tony was jarred by this and allowed a short yelp to escape him, slowing enough to put a great deal of distance between him and the rider in only a matter of seconds. If he didn’t know better, he’d say there had been a note of confusion in those barren features, but it had been a meager assessment. It was obvious now this man (thing) was in no sort of peril. Truly, he didn’t wish to examine this other long enough to know more than that. Before he could count himself lucky that the rider was speeding away, the motorcycle made a sharp U-turn and halted, facing Tony where he now hovered.

“Oh, shit,” he groaned. “Jarvis, I think I made a mistake.”

“What else is new, sir?” was the reply.

The rider taunted him with a series of loud roars as he revved his engine.

“What is this?” Tony muttered. “1950s greaser flick? Are we playing chicken?”

Apparently they were, for the rider’s bike suddenly went from growling playfully to surging forward in earnest. Tony could see a simple solution to this: fly up. But his ego was being tested, as was his resolve, so he stood his ground. He could hear Jarvis blurting statistics about surviving the impact should it come to that, but Tony merely extended a hand and fired his repulsor. He expected the air to clear and reveal the skeleton in the leather ensemble to be tumbling through the air. Instead, it plowed through with some jittering of the motorcycle’s front wheel, then steadied and rammed Tony’s midsection full force.

Tony never considered himself lost to gravity under any circumstances anymore, and with a twist and fire of his repulsors, he was balanced on his feet. Any other vehicles would have crunched like aluminum foil against his suit, but he was starting to understand, just as with its rider, this was no ordinary bike. If he didn’t know better, he’d say he saw more odd confusion with a touch of irritation in that bizarre, bare visage. Whatever this creature was, it was sentient enough to deduce that his bike would be no threat. He dismounted and trudged purposefully in Tony’s direction.

“You know, I’m as much of a fan of zombie movies as the next guy…” Tony was muttering, more to himself than the rider. Before he could finish his thought, his metal encased throat was seized, his entire body lifted off the ground.

“Look into my eyes,” the rider snarled, and Tony found he was compelled to do so. That commanding voice, deep and doubled over itself into forever, didn’t allow for argument. If he hadn’t liked what he saw there when those sockets were basically empty, he knew he would hate what he would soon see even more. He struggled to free himself, but the rider’s grip was absolute. Fire swirled, creating shapes that were becoming more and more discernable. People, places, his life.

“Jarvis, optical shut down, now!” Tony snapped.

“That would--”

“Do it now!” Tony bellowed as he attempted to twist his head away.

Luckily, there was no need as the inner workings of his mask went suddenly and entirely dark. There was a low, questioning growl, bones digging into his throat, twisting the metal until he could feel it constricting and biting into his skin. Then he was thrown, the action almost arbitrary though he knew it was out of anger. Whatever that thing had been trying to accomplish, Tony had just thwarted him, and it wasn’t being taken lightly.

Without eyes to see, Tony couldn’t stay himself from crashing and rolling until he slammed into some solid wall that stopped him. He heard the clipped sound of boots approaching and huffed out, “Back on! Turn it back on!” His sight blinked back into life, as if he’d just opened his eyes, right as the rider gripped and lifted him from his awkward landing.

Tony was slammed backward into the building he’d been huddled against, and he felt his head crack against the inside of his helmet as metal met brick. Before this could happen a second time, he redirected the power flow from his repulsors to his arc reactor and sent a shockwave through his enemy. While it took a great deal of force, this managed to wrestle the rider away and onto the ground. Tony was on him at once, throwing punches that were useless but at least served to keep him busy.

Until the sun rose.

Tony noticed the change almost at once, mostly because the creature actually started expressing some modicum of pain. Flame was extinguished, skin growing over bone as naturally as a lizard might grow back a tail, though much more swift and, therefore, stunning. Tony staggered back, listening to the weak chug of his hydraulic joints as the man’s face, now complete, grimaced and grew still where he laid on the ground.

“This is the part where I would be pulling out a bottle covered in Xs and tossing it over my shoulder if this were a cartoon,” Tony told himself calmly.

“He is alive,” Jarvis replied as though Tony had asked. “His vitals appear to be weak but stable. Shall I call 911?”

“No, you shall call Rhodey,” Tony countered as he plopped down next to the still figure with a scrape of metal. “I beat the ever-loving snot out of this… person, so I can stand not to send him to an ER where they probably won’t know how to treat burning skeleton men anyway.”

“You wish to know more about him,” Jarvis supplied.

“That, too,” Tony huffed. He glanced over at the motorcycle out of curiosity. It was only a bike now. How convenient.

“Do you think bringing him back to your home is wise?” Jarvis asked.

Tony was rubbing his throat as if he could feel it beneath the now warped metal surrounding it. “No, but look who you’re talking to.”

* * * * *

Johnny had the typical headache he associated with his powers. The typical dehydration, too. Unlike awaking in Carter Slade’s shack, there were no glasses of water awaiting him. He was semi-cognizant of the fact that he shouldn’t be this worn out when he’d gotten so used to his powers, that something must have happened, but he was too weary and out of sorts to put his finger on what. All he knew was this place was brightly lit, so it wasn’t a bar, and there were bickering voices. Bickering, not fighting. Another good sign.

“So this guy was on fire, and you beat the ever-loving snot out of him?” came one voice. “Then you brought him back here of all places?”

“You know, it’s irritating the way you oversimplify these things,” came another. “Don’t get mad. I’m telling you this for your benefit. A military man has to have his people skills, and, yeah, you could use some work.”

“Tony,” the first implored again. “I don’t know whether to believe you’re making this up or what. Where’s a calendar? Is it April first?”

“Yeah, because my pranks consist of knocking a guy out and putting him in a leather outfit,” Tony snorted. “Rhodey, please. If it were April Fools, that would be a girl in there. And she’d be naked with--”

“Stopping you there,” the other, obviously Rhodey, surrendered. “I know you don’t take much seriously, but this could be very, very bad. Especially when he wakes up.”

“Too late,” Johnny greeted. His voice sounded more raw than he would’ve liked, but he was smirking and hoped the look was disarming enough. It was obvious he’d startled them both, and they jerked their attention to him as he leaned against the end of the hall he’d just stumbled down. He was facing a large, sunken living room and wondering how much money this guy made. More than he ever had, even in his heyday. “You got water?”

“Uh…” Tony offered Rhodey a combination shrug-frown that the other man shook his head at, then gestured to the kitchen. “Bottled in the fridge.”

“Tap water’s fine,” Johnny was saying as he shuffled that way. He rummaged through a couple of cabinets, not caring if he was welcome to or not, and found a glass to fill with water. It was usually unlike him not to care about manners, but at the moment he was just too damn thirsty. Not to mention that “Tony” had all but admitted he had kicked him around, and that explained a lot of why he was so tired now. A glass of tap water wasn’t too much to ask for in that case.

After drinking down an entire glass, he refilled and moved back into the living room. He took the steps carefully and helped himself to the big, comfy sofa, resting the glass on his knee and glancing up at his hosts with a smile. “Morning.”

“Yeah,” Rhodey shot back with a careful, sideways glance. “Sorry, I’m not exactly sure if I should be offering you reparations for getting assaulted or kicking your ass myself.”

“Don’t worry,” Johnny replied easily. “Happens all the time.”

“Which part?” Tony prompted.

“All of the above,” Johnny nodded, then took another long gulp of water.

Tony tilted his head, thinking this made all kinds of sense as well as none at all. “So what was all that?”

“Which part?” Johnny returned with a laugh. “The fiery stuff or…?”

“Let’s start with the fiery stuff and see where that takes us,” Rhodey replied, having already decided he’d be sitting in on this conversation whether he was welcome or not. Tony seated himself nearby while Rhodey chose to continue standing, too restless for sitting at the moment.

“You won’t believe the explanation I have to give,” Johnny warned them both lightly, his Southern drawl making the way he chose his words seem even more odd. “It’s the truth, but you won’t believe it.”

“Try me,” Tony urged, shooting a glance at Rhodey, then leveling his eyes on Johnny once more. “You know what? Don’t even start with the fire. Let’s try your name first.”

“Johnny Blaze,” he replied. Absurdly, he put out his hand and waited for Tony to take it, even though it took several beats.

“Blaze,” Rhodey mumbled as they shook hands. “The motorcycle stuntman that disappeared?”

“I didn’t disappear,” Johnny corrected softly. “I’ve known where I was the whole time.”

Tony had to admit that was clever but didn’t allow himself to smirk despite the urge. He still wasn’t sure if this guy was just waiting to get his second wind before attempting to throw him out a window. “Speaking of motorcycles, your bike is in my shop downstairs. Nice piece of work, though it looked a little different last night.”

“About that,” Johnny began. He put up a finger to indicate that he needed moment, downed the last of this second glass of water, then set the empty glass on the coffee table. “Several years ago, I made a deal where I sold my soul to the devil. In return, he gave me these powers that come about only at night, turning me into a flaming skeleton. My bike is affected by that, too, as you saw. This has been going on for several months now. Years? I’ve lost track of time, truth be told.”

“So this guy’s crazy,” Rhodey announced.

“I might be,” Johnny shrugged, unaffected by this appraisal. “But your friend knows what he saw.” He turned tired, ice-blue eyes on Tony, who was watching him avidly. Johnny then lifted his hand to gesture at the scrapes and cuts along Tony’s neck. “I did that. Or it did. Whatever. And if memory serves, which it does more often these days than it used to, that wouldn’t have been possible unless I was telling the truth. That suit you wore was…” Johnny leaned forward suddenly, elbows on his knees and eyes brighter than they had been thus far. “Iron Man. Tony Stark. That’s you! Holy… I read about you.”

“Great,” Rhodey laughed tiredly, burying his face in his hands as if trying to hide from this fiasco. “I told you, Tony. I told you, and I sound like my mother right now, but I told you!”

By now, Tony and Johnny had effectively tuned Rhodey out in favor of being innocently in awe of each other.

“I heard there were others,” Tony was saying with a slowly dawning kinship of some kind, tentative and full of wonder. “I just didn’t think… You have rocked my whole world view within the space of a couple minutes. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“About like finding out the devil is real and that you can stare people into a coma?” Johnny shot back with a breathless laugh.

“So that’s what you were trying to do to me!” Tony crowed with a snap of his fingers.

“It’s called a Penance Stare,” Johnny shrugged. “Makes you see all your sins at once and be held accountable. It’s not pretty.”

“Considering my track record, I might’ve dogged a bullet,” Tony grunted. “Screw that. I dodge a missile. No, a hydrogen bomb. You see where I’m going with this, right?”

“Pretty clearly,” Johnny nodded. “Listen, there’s no hard feelings, right? I mean, the powers come from kind of a weird place, so I’m not always myself when I’m like that. I get turned around… Shoot first; ask questions later. It’s not like I plan things that way.”

“You just said you could’ve sent him into a coma,” Rhodey replied, staring at them both. “And you’re asking for ‘no hard feelings’?”

“Well… he didn’t mean to,” Tony countered, turning big, brown eyes up at Rhodey as if imploring him not to be a spoilsport.

Rhodey moved his eyes between the two of them, to Tony then Johnny then back. They were like lonely kids who had maybe discovered the barest opportunity to make a new friend. He’d known Tony a long time, barely knew Johnny at all, but he felt this was true for the both of them. They were experiencing something so different, even from each other, but they wanted someone to understand, desperately. That desperation was shining between them now, having found the oddest of homes.

“What do you want, my permission?” Rhodey asked Tony, trying to make light of how pitiful this all was. “If you want to take him on his word, then do it. If this goes sour--”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less than for you to come after me personally,” Johnny told him, and this was an admission that Rhodey hadn’t expected, one that gave him pause. “If you didn’t, I would think something was wrong with you. But we’re all on the same side. Promise.”

Tony smirked and spread his hands as if presenting the fact that Johnny had said everything that needed saying. “Well, that got tense for a minute, didn’t it? All right, so you want to go check on your bike? I could upgrade it, you know. Not sure what effect that would have on the Devil-Went-Down-To-Georgia half of it, but it couldn’t hurt, right?”

Both he and Johnny were already moving toward the stairs to his shop, and Rhodey watched them go with a touch of a rueful smile. “I will never get used to this,” he muttered, yet he was following dutifully behind.

The End