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perpetual_motionTitle: And the World Keeps Spinning [1/2]
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Marvel Comics
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 15,102
Spoilers: "Civil War", "Secret Invasion", "Captain America" #26, and a few other bits and pieces.
Summary: He considers everything he knows. His keys don’t work. Bucky’s in his apartment. There’s a gun to his head. He doesn’t have his phone or his Avengers tag. “I died.”
Disclaimer: Bullshit and lies, same as usual.
Author's Notes: This story would be nowhere without the amazing assistance of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
freakydarling . She read and re-read and corrected and re-corrected at a speed that kept me straight up on my toes and kept my energy going. Without her help, I don't think I'd have felt the urge to finish the thing. So, if you love it, she gets a heaping dose of credit. If you hate it, that's all on me.
Steve tries his key again and huffs out a breath when it still won’t work. He wants to call Tony, see if he can come over with his spare, but he doesn’t have his cell. He’s not sure where he’s left it.
The door swings open suddenly, and Steve falls into a defensive stance at the same time as he hears the snap of a gun safety releasing. “What the—Bucky, what are you doing?”
“Who are you?”
Steve blinks. Bucky’s arm isn’t moving. The gun is aimed between his eyes. “What kind of—”
“Who,” Bucky steps forward, and the gun touches Steve’s forehead, “are you?”
“Steve Rogers. We fought together in World War II.” Steve fights not to flinch when the gun is pressed into his forehead.
“Try again.”
“Buck, I…I’m Steve, Bucky. It’s Steve.” Steve stands up straight, straightens his shoulders, and looks Bucky in the eyes. “It’s me, Buck. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m Steve Rogers.”
“How’d you get here?”
“I…” Steve blinks when he can’t find an answer. “I must have…” He stares at Bucky as his complete absence of memory hits him hard. “I don’t know. I…I have no idea. I was…” he can’t recall that either.
He considers everything he knows. His keys don’t work. Bucky’s in his apartment. There’s a gun to his head. He doesn’t have his phone or his Avengers tag. “I died.”
Bucky’s eyebrows go up. He adjusts his stance so the gun’s not-quite digging into Steve’s head. “Are you sure?”
“No,” Steve says truthfully.
The gun drops; Bucky steps aside and waves him in. “I’m going to call reinforcements.”
“Okay.” Steve shuts the door and throws the lock as Bucky walks across the room. It is and isn’t his apartment. The couch and exercise equipment are his, but there’s a disassembled gun on the coffee table and the wrong kind of beer in the fridge. Steve takes a beer anyway and takes a long drink while he eavesdrops on Bucky’s conversation.
“Look, I’m telling you—I am not hallucinating…Yes, he’s here…I’m looking at him right now.”
Steve raises his beer in a toast and smirks when Bucky rolls his eyes. It’s another five minutes before Bucky’s off the phone, and Steve’s waiting with a beer.
“Stark says I shouldn’t trust it’s you.”
“He’s right.”
Bucky shrugs and takes a drink of his beer. “If I were wrong, you’d have attacked by now.”
“Maybe I’m waiting for a crowd.” Steve grins when Bucky snorts. “I could take on Tony.”
“I’m not arguing. I’m just think—” Bucky cuts off at the reverberating pounding on the door. “Hold that thought.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up when a dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents rush into the apartment. His eyebrows get a little bit higher when Tony follows in their wake, fully suited. “What, do you have S.H.I.E.L.D. on speed dial?”
There’s a click and a whirr, and then Tony’s looking at Steve as his helmet retracts. “I run S.H.I.E.L.D., Steve.”
“Since when?” Steve gets a crawling, worried sensation up his spine when everyone stares at him. “What?” He puts down his beer and takes a step back.
“Steve,” Tony says it softly, like Steve’s going to spook. “What year is it?”
“2006.” Tony doesn’t do anything, but Steve catches Bucky’s sudden shift. Wrong answer, then.
“Who’s leading The Avengers?”
“Why don’t tell you me what I don’t know?” Steve snaps.
“Who’s leading The Avengers?” Tony repeats, voice still soft.
“If you’re asking, then my answer’s going to be wrong. Why don’t you just—”
“It matters, Steve,” Tony interrupts, his face so serious it makes Steve want to back away farther. “So tell me. Who’s leading The Avengers?”
“We are. You and me.” Steve sighs in exasperation. “It’s you, me, Spider-Man, Spider-Woman, Luke Cage, Wolverine, Sentry when he’s healthy, and occasionally Carol when she’s bored.” Steve’s not sure he’s won or lost when Tony’s face crumbles just a little.
“Stand down,” Tony says to the agents.
“Sir—”
“Stand down.” There’s a growl in Tony’s words that Steve doesn’t recognize. It worries him.
“How long?” Steve asks.
“Not as long as before,” Bucky answers as Tony starts berating the agents still trying to argue. “But about as much has happened.”
“Hell,” Steve mutters. He picks up his beer, takes a drink, sets it down, and starts rolling up his sleeves.
“Going to start something?” Bucky asks, only half-joking.
“They’re going to want to draw blood sometime. I’m just preparing.”
Bucky barks a laugh, and Tony and the agents all turn to stare at him. “Something funny, Barnes?” Tony asks sharply.
“Everything,” Bucky says dryly. He looks at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and waves a hand. “Get out. This is my place, and I say get out. If you think Stark and I can’t take one guy in a fight, bitch about it later.”
No one moves. Tony sighs. “Fine. If you won’t listen to a direct order and a polite request, let me turn it into a threat. If you haven’t cleared the property in two minutes, every single one of you is fired, blacklisted, and shot in the foot. Get. Out.” The agents flee. Tony shakes his head. “Christ.”
“And you say you’re running the place?”
“Shut up, Steve.” Tony says amiably. He looks at Bucky. “Call the Tower. Tell whoever’s there to track down Strange.”
Steve watches Bucky walk across the room to retrieve the phone and looks back at Tony just in time to get blinded by a bright flash. “Hey!” He protests, blinking the spots out of his eyes. “What was that?”
“Skrull-Checker.”
“Why not just get Logan here to sniff me?”
Tony presses his lips together for a few seconds. “You’ve been gone awhile Steve.”
“I’m figuring that out.”
*
“It’s him,” Dr. Strange tells Tony quietly. “At the core of himself, he is himself.”
“How?”
“There’s a trace,” Dr. Strange says slowly, “of a power I know well. As do you.”
Tony breathes in deep and counts to ten. “Who?”
“Wanda.”
Tony looks over his shoulder. Steve’s on the couch, Bucky beside him, talking about something that makes them both smile. “Why?”
“You’d have to ask Wanda.” Dr. Strange shakes his head. “Although, she may not know she’s done it.”
“Great.” Tony works his neck back and forth until it pops. “I miss the old days. Ice blocks were easier.”
“He has no memory block,” Dr. Strange says. “He just has no memory.”
“Well, that’s something.” Tony gives Dr. Strange a strained smile. “Thanks for the help.”
“I’m always near,” and then he’s gone in a small billow of smoke.
Tony turns to face Steve and Bucky. “Strange says you’re you.”
“Good to hear,” Steve stands and stretches. “So, what’s next?”
“Debriefing,” Tony answers. “I’d like to do it elsewhere. I could use a change of clothes.”
“I’m good wherever.” Steve looks at Bucky. “Any opinions?”
“I’m staying here,” Bucky answers. “I’m not going to be much help, and I’m due to patrol in a couple of hours.”
“Patrol?”
“He’s taken on the mantle, Steve,” Tony explains because Bucky looks completely ill at ease. “He’s done a good job.”
Steve beams at Bucky. “Of course he has. Thank you, Buck.”
“Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “Sure.”
“I’ve got a car waiting downstairs for you, Steve,” Tony says after a moment of heavy silence. “I’ll meet you at the Tower.”
“I’ll be down in a minute, Tony,” Steve replies, watching the way Bucky’s very clearly not twitching. He waits for Tony to leave. “Bucky?”
“It’s weird,” Bucky states. “It seems like…” He shakes his head. “I guess I’m waiting for an explosion or the end of the world.”
Steve laughs softly. “Or Loki, maybe.”
“Exactly.” Bucky looks around the room. “If you want to move back in, just let me know.”
“Let’s not worry about that now,” Steve insists with a wave of his hand. “It looks like you’ve kept it up well.”
“I’m trying,” Bucky glances at the coffee table. “I’m carrying guns.”
Steve glances at the coffee table as well. “I’m sure it’s the right thing to do.”
“Are you?” Bucky watches Steve think about it.
“I don’t even know what year it is, Buck,” Steve scrubs a hand over his hair. “For all I know, you should be carrying a cannon.”
“Thanks,” Bucky says quietly.
*
Tony lands in the garage of the Tower, dismantles his suit, and runs his hands over his face. “Shit.”
“Tony?” Pepper walks around the corner and cocks her head. “Everything okay?”
“Any messages?” Tony asks briskly.
“Three reporters I sent on their way and strange looks from everyone when I cleared the Tower on your orders.” Pepper holds out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “I’m assuming you’re not wearing underwear.”
“I’ve always liked your hunches, Pep.”
She rolls her eyes and turns around, listening as Tony slides into his clothes. “Are you going to tell me why I had to push everyone out the door, or are you going to make me guess?” Pepper turns back to face Tony when she hears him sigh. “I can’t tell if that’s a good sigh or not.”
“I’m not sure either.” Tony smoothes his shirt over his chest and slides his hands into his pockets. “This is one of those times, Pepper—”
“Where I don’t hear a thing until you make the announcement,” Pepper finishes with a knowing grin.
Tony nods and shares in her smile. “Yeah.” He bites his lip. “Steve’s back.”
Pepper blinks, and her knuckles go white on her clipboard. “What?”
“Strange confirmed it was him, and the Skrull-Checker didn’t turn him green.”
“H-how?”
Tony shakes his head. “Wanda, probably, but I don’t want to put money there, yet.”
“Why not?”
“Implications,” Tony says quietly. He gives Pepper an assessing stare. “What do you know?”
“Not a damned thing.”
“Good. Steve will be here soon. I’m going up to the lobby to meet him.”
“I’ll stay down here and pretend not to worry.”
“You’re the best, Pep.” Tony waves as he steps onto the elevator. He presses the button for the lobby and leans against the back wall, slumping until most of his weight is on the handrail. “Of all the damned…” he trails off and looks at himself in the reflection of the elevator doors. “You look like shit, Tony.”
The elevator dings, and Tony pulls himself up. The lobby’s quiet, just the security at the desk, and Tony sends him away with a wave of his hand. He looks out the front doors and wonders what Steve’s seeing as he gets driven across the city. It’s not the same city it was in 2006; it’s not even close, and Tony considers the possibility that Steve may have to be talked down from the proverbial ledge.
Tony spots the town car coming down the street and walks out the front door, standing on the bottom step to watch Steve get out of the car. “Hey,” he says when Steve straightens up.
“Hi,” Steve says distractedly, looking up and down the street. “I missed a lot.” He steps up next to Tony and looks around again. “What year is it?”
“2010.”
“How’d all this happen in four years?”
Tony looks up and down the street. It’s been improved greatly in the last eight months as construction has really taken hold. There are two buildings already in the finishing stages, and the report he knows Pepper has for him will tell him another four are to their halfway points. “Let’s get upstairs. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of anyone who could wander by.”
“The paranoia’s new,” Steve comments as they step on the elevator.
“There’s a new reason for it.” Tony looks Steve over, head to toe, and smiles when Steve meets his eyes. “There was a pool going for awhile.”
“Who won?”
“I’ll have to check with Peter. He was keeping track of the odds. I think they were 20-1 last week.”
Steve chuckles. “Well, whoever placed the winning bet owes me a beer.”
“At least.”
The elevator opens to the foyer of the penthouse, and Tony leads the way to the kitchen. He pours himself a cup of coffee and holds up the carafe. “It’s dark roast.”
“Perfect.” Steve sits on a stool at the counter and looks around. “I figured you’d clear out everyone, but I didn’t think you’d send Jarvis out the door.”
“Jarvis is…” Tony stares into his coffee. He blinks hard. “Jarvis is dead.”
“Tony, I—”
“Jessica Drew is dead,” Tony continues, eyes still on his coffee. “Hank Pym is dead. Black—”
“Tony,” Steve interrupts, standing up from his stool. “What the hell happened while I was gone?”
“You were dead, Steve. Well and truly.” Tony turns and hands Steve his coffee. “Sharon was under mind control by Doctor Faustus and shot you in the head when you were leaving the courthouse.” Tony watches Steve take in the information. He knows the next question.
“Why was I at a courthouse?”
“You surrendered yourself to the authorities to stop a war.”
Steve blinks. “Did I start the war?”
Tony breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. “That’s where things get murky.” He walks down the steps to the living room and sits on the couch. “What’s your last memory?”
“You mean before today.”
“Yes.” Tony’s eyebrows go up when Steve suddenly turns a bit pink. “Oh?”
“It’s you and me. In bed.”
Tony nearly spits out his coffee. He manages, just barely, to keep a straight face. “Anything fun going on?”
“Sure,” there’s a look in Steve’s eyes that Tony remembers far too well. “Always was, wasn’t there?”
Tony wants to say yes and back Steve up against the kitchen counter. Tony wants to go to sleep and wake up and find out that everything’s been a dream in the last four years. “Do you remember the Superhuman Registration Act?” He asks instead of giving in. No use getting Steve into bed if he won’t want to be there more than once.
“I don’t recall it.” Steve sits next to Tony and cradles his coffee cup. “What bureaucrat backed that idiocy?”
This is going to hurt, Tony thinks. “A lot of them. I was on the opposition to begin with, but circumstances changed.”
“Who died?”
“600 civilians in Stamford, Connecticut. Nitro exploded when fighting the New Warriors.”
“Okay.” Steve takes a drink of his coffee. He sets his mug on the coffee table. He laces his fingers together. “Walk me through it.” His tone is even, but Tony knows how to read it. Steve wants a full explanation, no stone unturned, and he’s willing to put in the time to get it.
“I’m going to order in some food. The whole thing goes sideways pretty quickly.”
“You’re stalling.”
“That too.”
“Pizza okay?”
“Sure.”
Tony walks across the room to place the call. He orders a large sausage with extra cheese. When he hangs up the phone, Steve’s behind him, just close enough to make his skin prickle.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Such an innocuous question, Tony thinks. “No,” He says quickly and turns around. “I work too much.”
“Why are you director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
“No one else wanted the job.” Tony licks his lips and slides his hands into his pockets.
“That’s not true.” There’s a smirk trying to stay hidden at the corner of Steve’s mouth. “You don’t think anyone else will do it right.”
“Maybe,” Tony admits quietly. Steve steps closer, and Tony can smell him. The leather of his jacket, a waft of his two-dollar shampoo; Tony closes his eyes against the memories.
“Tony,” Steve’s voice is soft and concerned.
“This isn’t—” Tony can’t say anything else when Steve’s hand slides across his face, fingers brushing his ear.
“How long have you been blaming yourself?”
My whole life, Tony thinks. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Tony opens his eyes. Steve’s right in front of him, worry deep in his eyes. “You didn’t believe in registration. I thought you were being naïve and pig-headed. You thought I was being a controlling dick. You went underground and the only time I saw you for months was during a fight.”
“I can’t believe we couldn’t come to terms.”
“I told you it all went sideways.”
Steve shakes his head. “It’s not your fault I wouldn’t listen.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe I didn’t want—”
“Stop that,” Steve says firmly. “My inability to compromise wasn’t your fault.”
Tony tries to breathe deep, and his breath stutters in his chest. “You gave yourself up to stop the fighting. You let yourself be arrested because you couldn’t stand the cost of human life. You were brave.”
“Standing by your beliefs doesn’t make you weak, Tony.”
Tony hears him, but it means nothing. There’s too much to say, too much to admit. “We met once, in the middle of all of it. You told me I didn’t want to listen to you because I wanted to be right. I said you were using your status as Captain America to get people to side with you.”
“Shush,” Steve says and steps in closer. He pulls Tony in and hugs him tightly. “You’ve had four years to find fault in this. I don’t even remember any of it. It can’t—”
“You have to know, Steve. I can’t pretend like it never happened, and that means I have to tell you all of it.” Tony steps away and crosses his arms over his chest. He breathes deep. “I had Reed clone Thor to take out Goliath, and now Bill’s dead.”
“Tony—”
“I built a prison in the Negative Zone. I locked up anyone I could capture who hadn’t registered. I shot Bruce Banner into space because I thought the Hulk was too much of a threat.”
“Tony, I—”
“I turned myself into a complete hypocrite and provided Bucky with the necessary funds and information to make him into Captain America.”
“That’s not—”
“I gave you to Namor, Steve.” Tony presses his palms against his eyes. “I put an LMD in your casket for Arlington and had you buried at sea with Namor’s help. I caused—”
“Tony, shut up.” Steve grabs Tony by the shoulders and gives him a shake. “Tell me what happened in as much detail as you want, but don’t make yourself the villain. Whatever I thought of you during this registration mess doesn’t matter. I don’t remember it. Give me the facts, and I’ll draw my own conclusions.”
“You wouldn’t even talk to me at the end of it, and afterwards, so much went wrong, and I think I’ve been tired ever since.”
Steve slides his hands over Tony’s shoulders and cradles his face. “Tell me everything.”
So Tony tells him everything. Steve says nothing outside of the occasional bit of encouragement. Tony walks him through the war a piece at a time; detailing Stamford, moving to their blow-out, and trying not to make himself look good in any of it. Steve keeps a hand on his arm and worry lines creep around the edges of his mouth when he pulls his lips tight.
"I'm not going to absolve you, Tony," Steve says, hours later and the remains of the pizza cold. "But if you're waiting for me to blame you some more, you're not going to get it."
"If I'd listened to you—”
"Registration passed, right?" Steve interrupts.
"Yes."
"Has anyone been compromised?"
Tony heaves in a breath. "Not in the way you're thinking." He looks Steve in the eyes and tries for a sarcastic smile. "Lot's changed since you died."
Steve raises his eyebrows. "What else could have possibly happened?"
"There was a full-on invasion by the Skrulls. They'd planned it for years. Jarvis and the others are dead because the Skrulls came in, took them, and replaced them. The rebuilding outside is from their main attack. If I hadn't been so—”
"You can't berate yourself every second of the day, Tony." Steve reaches out and reels Tony in with a hand on his neck. He leans in the deep cushions of the couch and tightens his grip so Tony can't get away. "And you can't predict the future."
Tony presses his head into Steve's shoulder. "We tried, Reed and I."
"Of course you tried," Steve laughs a little. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't try. But that doesn't change the fact that, no matter how badly you want it, you can't save the whole world in one fell swoop."
"We were going to have teams in every state."
"And the invasion happened?"
"Yeah." Tony tries to sit up straight, but Steve holds him close. "I'm fine."
"Sure." Steve's grip doesn't lessen.
"The Skrulls found a way to adjust their bodies to make it impossible for us to tell them from the people they replaced. Logan couldn't smell them, and they'd only regress to their natural state if they were killed."
"You invented the Skrull-Checker?"
"Found it in the Savage Land after a crash landing." Tony pulls away when Steve practically doubles over with laughter. "What?"
"Sorry," Steve says and tries to school his features. "Just, god, all this about how much things have changed, and it's still not possible to land properly in the Savage Land."
Tony can't help but smile. "The more things change, I suppose." He sits upright and leans into the couch, throwing his arm over the back so that it rests just next to Steve's shoulders. "It was a mess. A complete clusterfuck. We've still not recovered."
Steve sobers up instantly. "And the civilians?"
"The heroes got a hero's celebration. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fat is still in the fryer."
"You weren't kidding about no one wanting your job."
"No, I wasn't."
Steve leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He watches Tony for a few seconds. "Have you slept well at all lately?"
"No," Tony answers blandly. "How can I?"
"God." Steve rests his head in his hands. "How you can walk upright when you feel guilty for every misstep you've made, I don't even know."
"And I'm not even Catholic."
"Don't joke."
Tony doesn't get a chance to snap back. Steve's suddenly crowding him against the couch, knees on either side of Tony's thighs. Steve kisses him, single-mindedly like he does everything, and Tony grips hard on his arms, pulls him in until they're chest-to-chest, and falls into it headfirst.
Skrull-Checkers and Strange be damned, Tony thinks. This is Steve. No one's ever kissed him like Steve.
"A-hem."
Tony wonders how Steve managed to clear his throat when Tony's busy trying to get his tongue down it.
"A-HEM."
That makes Tony pull away. He'd know that impolite attention-getter anywhere. "Yes, Pepper?" He doesn't look away from Steve. Steve's eyes are bright, his lips swollen, and his cheeks are flushed.
"Not meaning to interrupt—Steve, glad you're not dead—but I did want to check a few things with you before I called it a night."
"Sure," Tony says as Steve thanks Pepper for her concern. "Let everyone into the building tomorrow. Half a day off is enough stock damage for me."
"And what time should the team be here tomorrow?"
"Two," Steve says before Tony can start to negotiate a time. "It'll make sure everyone's well-rested enough to handle the news." There's a shine in his eyes that makes Tony hot under his clothes.
"You heard the man, Pep."
"I see him, too," she gets in as she leaves. "You owe me coffee for this, Steve."
"Sure," Steve mutters so only Tony can hear him. "I'll get on that."
“Uh-huh.” The door clicks audibly as Pepper waves goodbye.
Tony arches when Steve’s hand slides under his T-shirt. He sighs when Steve presses him into the cushions. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“You have no concept—”
Steve kisses Tony hard, teeth digging into Tony’s bottom lip. He groans when Tony gives as good as he’s getting and pulls away to look Tony in the eyes. “If I say I missed you, I missed you.”
Tony laughs. “The last memory you have is the two of us in bed.”
“And I just got four years of history that said I wasn’t there.”
“Okay,” Tony agrees because it makes Steve smile. “You missed me.”
“Damn right.” Steve climbs off of Tony and pulls him to his feet. “Tell me the bedroom’s in the same place.”
“The bedroom’s in the same place.”
*
Steve rolls over and blinks awake, wondering why he’s coming to at—he squints at the clock—2:36 in the morning. There’s a sound like an incredibly electronic doorbell, and Steve realizes an earpiece on Tony’s bedside table is blinking. “Tony,” Steve says quietly, poking Tony in the shoulder.
“Hrmm,” Tony says and rolls over.
Steve pokes him again. “Tony, your earpiece is going off.”
The earpiece dings again, and Tony’s suddenly straight up in bed, groping blindly for the earpiece. His hand brushes Steve’s chest, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he gets hold of the earpiece. “What?” He barks into it as he attaches it to his ear.
Steve settles himself back into a prone position and tucks his hands behind his head. This is a Tony he knows well—the chronic overachiever who will wake from the sleep of the dead to take a phone call.
“When did that happen?”
Steve’s brow furrows as Tony’s tone changes. He sits up again and touches Tony’s side. Tony slides a glance at him and seems surprised to find Steve there.
“Hill, I’m calling you back.” Tony yanks off the earpiece and looks at Steve. “You really are here.”
“Be quite the dream if it wasn’t.” Steve smiles when Tony smiles at him.
“Yeah. I guess so.” Tony rolls his eyes when his earpiece dings again. “Sorry. Hold on.” He puts it back to his ear. “I said I’d call you—if you can’t figure out how to deploy a team without me there to hold your hand, maybe it’s time to reconsider your posit—same to you, Hill. Believe me.”
Steve takes the earpiece from Tony and presses the button to shut it off. He tucks it under his pillow and lies down. “I think that’s enough for this time of night.”
“She’s going to call Pepper.”
“I’m betting Pepper can take her in a fight.” Steve reaches out and smiles when Tony settles next to him. “I can’t be certain, but I’d bet good money your heart rate is in the danger zone.”
“Isn’t it always?”
Steve looks closely at Tony. There’s gray threading his hair, and the lines around his eyes look like they’ve been worn-in. He taps his finger against the edge of Tony’s eye. “Better be careful, those look like they want to stick around.”
“It’ll make me look distinguished,” Tony says quietly, brushing away Steve’s finger.
“Yeah, but will you feel distinguished?”
“I don’t know. I’ll let you know if I ever do.”
“Hey,” Steve says sharply, and props his head on hand, “none of that.”
“Sorry.” Tony flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “I’m more battle-worn than you remember, Steve. Maybe we shouldn’t—”
“And none of that,” Steve says fiercely. He maneuvers so that he’s looming in Tony’s face. “I’ve got four years I won’t get back, same as you. Don’t regret the here and now.”
“I should have Pepper embroider that on a pillow.”
Steve grins. “Well, if it’ll help you remember, I’ll do it myself.”
“I’d love to see that. The famed Captain America working on samplers and darning his own socks.”
“Actually, I can darn my own socks.”
Tony laughs. “Of course you can.”
Steve bites the end of Tony’s nose. “Damn straight. I’ll darn yours too, if you say please.”
“I just might.” Tony closes his eyes and murmurs happily when Steve settles in tight against him. “It shouldn’t be this easy,” he says mostly to himself, but the way Steve shifts, he knows he’s heard him.
“Why not?”
“This isn’t how things happen. You’re supposed to punch me for getting you killed.”
“Tony?”
“Yes?”
“You’re an idiot.” Steve presses his fingers against Tony’s sternum. “We’ve gotten through worse than this.”
“You say that now.”
“And I’ll say it tomorrow.” Steve yawns. “Or, today, if you want to be technical.”
“The team—”
“Go to sleep, Tony.”
Tony gives a huge yawn and curls a hand around Steve’s bicep. “Okay. Goodnight, Steve.”
“Goodnight, Tony.”
*
Tony is a consummate businessman. He can charm his way anywhere. He’s forever at ease discussing deals, brokering options, and finding the best way to motivate employees. His manners are impeccable.
But Tony the businessman, Steve thinks, is a thin disguise. Tony the man is a great deal more complicated, and while he can slide into his business manners to get through personal issues, Steve’s not letting it happen.
“I can’t guarantee Peter’s going to show. There are days I wait for him to pants me and hang me from the spire by my ankles.” Tony says casually as he flips through the paper at a quarter after one. “Luke’s thawed some, but he’s still a ‘maybe.’”
“Did Pepper piss off anyone during all the excitement I missed?” Steve asks as he steals the sports section.
“Of course not; she’s Pepper.”
“Then everyone will show up.” Steve lowers the sports page and gives Tony a hard look. “The Cubs won the pennant?”
“2008. It was a big deal.”
“Figures,” Steve shakes his head. “I might actually be dead for good by the time they win it again.”
Tony glances up from the business section. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Maybe a little.”
“I’m okay.” The way Tony rattles the paper says otherwise.
“Fine, then I’m distracting myself,” Steve argues. “Please tell me there’s no weird cult associated with me or something.”
Tony snorts. “Quite the swelled head you’ve grown there, Steve.” He folds the business section and moves onto the society page. “You are remembered, of course, but it’s nothing organized.” He pauses for just a second and looks at Steve through his lashes. “As far as I know, anyway.”
Steve gives in and laughs. “Read your paper,” he orders as he stands up. “Want some water?”
“Sure,” Tony says without looking up.
Steve pulls two bottles of water from the fridge and tosses one to Tony. He’s crossing back to the couch when the penthouse door slam opens and Luke Cage barrels in, obviously unhappy.
“You think you can just call and order me places, Stark?” Luke asks as he zeroes in on Tony. “Just because you get Pep—the hell is that?”
“Luke,” Steve greets with a nod. “How’s the baby?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“He’s Steve,” Tony interjects. He’s still sitting on the couch, but his posture has changed. His back’s straight, and the way he folds the paper is precise, meant to draw attention without being distracting. “Dr. Strange and the Skrull-Checker have both confirmed it.”
Luke looks like he’s been slammed in the gut with a lamppost. “How?”
“We don’t know,” Steve answers and holds out his water. “Drink?”
“Sure.” Luke takes the bottle and sinks into a chair. He stares at Steve. “How long have you been back?”
“Mid-day yesterday,” Steve says.
Luke glares at Tony. “How long were you gonna sit on this?”
“Until two,” Tony answers coolly. “By Steve’s request.”
“There’ll be plenty of questions, Luke,” Steve says with a smile. “You mind holding onto the rest of yours until everyone else gets here?”
“I don’t like this.”
“Duly noted,” Tony snaps.
“And they’ll be plenty of time for that as well,” Steve says, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Or have things changed so much someone will take a swing at you?”
“Those feeling have mostly passed,” Tony assures him.
Steve’s tempted to redefine Tony’s definition of “mostly passed” when two o’clock comes and the tension in the room skyrockets. He knows part of the tension is his simply being there, but he can’t ignore some of the looks Tony is getting.
“Prove it,” Peter says after Tony’s walked everyone through the basics.
“I can assure you, Peter, that Steve is Steve.”
Peter gives Dr. Strange a skeptical glance. “Yeah, and magic is neat, but I’m talking science. What scientific proof—”
“You threw up on Mary Jane on a Ferris Wheel on Coney Island,” Steve says, only feeling slightly guilty. “How many people have you told that to?”
“Forget science,” Peter blushes to the top of his head. “It’s him.”
“Smells like him, but that don’t mean much now,” Logan grinds his teeth around his cigar. “You say the Skrull-Checker cleared him?”
“Yes,” Tony says, the stress starting to show in the set of his shoulders. “He didn’t even glint green.”
“Are we certain the Skrull-Checker is still functioning properly?”
The dirty look Tony gives Reed makes Steve smile. “I’m going to ignore that question.”
“Look, it’s me,” Steve cuts in before an argument can break out. “If you don’t believe it, I can’t prove it to you.”
There’s a short pause, and then She-Hulk pushes to the front of the crowd, picks up Steve, and swings him around. “It’s you! Only the you-you would say something like that.”
“Thanks, Jen,” Steve grits his teeth when she hugs a little too tight. “If you could put me down soon, that’d be great.”
“Never! You’re back!”
Jen’s enthusiasm wins over the rest of the crowd, and Steve is almost instantly surrounded for hugs, back pats, and the requisite almost-crying. Tony steps away from the general excitement and looks out the windows and down into the street. People are milling about like it’s any other day. He wonders what will happen when the news of Steve’s return goes public.
“Tony, a moment, if you please.”
Tony turns from the window and smiles at Beast. “Of course. What can I do for you Hank?”
Hank looks over his shoulder at the assembled crowd. “You have a theory, or possibly an idea of a theory as to why Steve’s back.”
“I don’t,” Tony says quietly, not wanting to draw attention.
“You’re a scientist, Tony. There’s always a hypothesis, at least.”
“I’ll grant the idea of a hypothesis.”
Hank’s eyebrows go up. “Oh?”
“And I’m not going to explain it until I have more than a hypothesis.”
“I have always admired your scientific side, Tony.”
Tony chuckles at Hank’s smile. “Thank you, Hank.”
Steve breaks away from the crowd and throws an arm around Tony’s shoulder. “And you thought someone would punch you in the face.”
“There’s still time.”
Steve shakes his head. “You are your own worst enemy.”
“Put that on a pillow, too.”
Hank smiles at the two of them. “Wonderful to have you back, Steve.”
“Thank you, Hank.” Steve grins at Tony when Hank walks away. “What were you talking about over here?”
“You, of course.”
“Hmmm.” Steve gives Tony a considering look. “I believe you, but I don’t at the same time.”
“This isn’t the time.”
Luke walks over with his hand out, interrupting the conversation. “Tony, I just wanted—”
“Sure,” Tony says quickly, shaking Luke’s hand. “I understand your reservations.”
Luke doesn’t get a chance to respond before the crowd moves over to re-engulf Steve in celebration.
“I’m ordering pizza!” She-Hulk yells over the noise.
“Charge it to the Avengers account,” Tony yells in response.
The pizza guy looks mildly frightened when Tony answers the doorbell. “Big party,” he says, and Tony catches the way his eyes widen at the sight of Kurt poking Jan with his tail.
“We like to have a good time,” Tony says and tips the kid twice the cost of the pies. “Anyone asks, it’s just a few friends up here, clear?”
“Sure, man. Whatever.”
The kid’s bravado makes Tony chuckle. The sudden push on the door from a rather angry-looking Maria Hill makes him wish for backup. “Maria,” Tony throws open the door so that Maria has to fight to keep her footing. “What brings you by?”
“Other than the orgy?”
“A little credit, please, Hill. I don’t usually start my orgies until long after dark.” Tony watches her scan the room, and he follows her line of sight. Steve’s surrounded by people in the far corner of the room, but Tony doubts Hill can identify Steve by his hair alone. “So,” and he drops his voice to make sure her intrusion is noted, “what brings you by?”
“You’ve been incommunicado for over twelve hours, Stark. It raised a few flags.”
“Personal matters, Hill.”
She scowls at him. “You’re director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony. You don’t have personal matters.”
Tony pinches the bridge of his nose and watches Maria scan the room again. “You looking for something in particular?”
“The personal matter,” Maria’s tone is pure ice. “I don’t see anything leggy enough for your tastes.” Her eyes widen, and Tony knows he’s about to lose the battle. “Is that—”
“Maria!” Steve cuts across the room with ease. “I didn’t think you were on the guest list.”
“There was a guest list?” Maria looks ready to flay Tony with a particularly dull knife. “And how long have you been back?”
Tony presses his lips together to keep from smiling at Steve’s pole axed look. “Steve surfaced yesterday, Maria. I was going—”
“I’m sure you were,” she cuts in with the dirtiest look she’s ever given Tony. “You’re the Director, Tony. When people come back from the dead, you call someone.”
“I think I should just…” Steve glances at Tony and plants his feet. “Never mind.”
“This doesn’t concern you, Rogers.”
“Actually, Ms. Hill, as you’re discussing my miraculous recovery, I think this very much concerns me.”
“Steve, she’s right. This is much less about you than about how she feels about my position.”
“I’ve got a position for you right here, Stark.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Well. Okay.” He touches Tony’s arm and points to the opposite side of the room. “A quick word before you two have it out?”
“Of course,” Tony agrees while the color goes up a notch in Maria’s face. He lets Steve lead him to the other side of the room and gives him his best smile. “Yes?”
“Wipe that smirk off your face,” Steve can’t keep the smirk off his. “You’re antagonizing her because you can.”
“She antagonizes—”
“Why are you running S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony?”
“Haven’t we had this conversation?” Tony raises his eyebrows at Steve’s hard look. “What? We have.”
“No, you’ve told me it’s because no one else wants the job.”
“No one does.”
“Really?” Steve exaggerates looking over his shoulder at Maria Hill. “She’d take it off your hands.”
“And run it into the ground. No, thank you.” Tony holds up a hand to keep Steve from interrupting. “You threw yourself out of the Helicarrier and rode a fighter jet to a football field to keep from taking her orders.”
Steve laughs. “I did not.”
“You did. I have the surveillance photos, and I won’t let someone you don’t trust run the place.” Tony looks away at the emotion that suddenly surfaces in Steve’s eyes. “I guess when I say no one wants the job, I mean that I haven’t found anyone good enough for your standards.”
“Tony,” Steve shakes his head. “You can’t use me to set your standards.”
“You’re the most honorable man I know, Steve.”
Steve looks at his feet. “I’m just an old soldier, Tony.”
“You’re not.” Tony catches the end of a glare from Maria before she’s distracted by Logan. “S.H.I.E.L.D.’s standards should be as high as their best operative. That’s you.”
“I was dead, Tony.”
“You were still the best, Steve.”
“Okay, fine, I’m the best. But I’m alive right now and looking at you, and I think you should quit.”
Tony crosses his arms. “Oh, yeah? Why?”
“Because you hate it,” Steve says like it’s enough.
“That’s not—”
“Because it makes you tired all the time. Because your second-in-command is currently debating the size of body bag she’ll need. Because I’m here now, and you can forgive yourself for all the wrong-doings you didn’t actually do.”
“I…you can’t expect me to agree for no reason.”
“Then agree because you know I’m right.”
Tony rolls his eyes at Steve’s presumption, but he doesn’t get a chance to argue. Jessica Jones cuts between them and pulls at Steve’s arm. “Jen’s about to start some music, and you have to dance with me.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” Steve gives Tony one last serious look. “Do it, Tony.”
“I don’t do things just because you say so.”
“You’re saying I’m wrong?”
“I’m saying…” Tony trails off and rubs a hand through his hair. “Oh, god, who am I kidding?” He walks across the room and stands toe-to-toe with Maria. “You don’t like me.”
“True,” she puts her hands on her hips. “What that has to do—”
“Shut up, Hill; I’m about to make you a very happy agent.” Tony pauses to make sure she actually stays quiet. “I quit.”
Maria blinks. “What?”
“I quit. You will not succeed me, but you won’t have to deal with me anymore.” Tony doesn’t wait for her to recover. “Pepper will be in contact with you to get your recommendations for a new director.”
“I’ve got more experience—”
“I don’t like you, Maria, and now that I’m no longer your boss, I will gleefully boot your ass out of here.” Tony throws open the door and gestures grandly. “Get out.”
She stares. “You can’t be serious.”
“Good bye, Maria. I think you’ll understand when I don’t wish you good luck.” Tony breaks into a grin when she storms out, muttering under her breath, and throwing him one last angry look. He shuts and locks the door before turning around.
She-Hulk is behind him, and she’s smiling like the world’s in order. “I did not just see that.”
“You did,” Tony replies, and offers his arm. “Care to take a spin on the dance floor?”
“Is this a double party now?”
Tony spots Steve in the middle of the floor, dipping Jessica Jones with an understated flourish. “No. This falls under the general celebration of having Steve back. Let’s just enjoy it.”
Part Two
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Marvel Comics
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 15,102
Spoilers: "Civil War", "Secret Invasion", "Captain America" #26, and a few other bits and pieces.
Summary: He considers everything he knows. His keys don’t work. Bucky’s in his apartment. There’s a gun to his head. He doesn’t have his phone or his Avengers tag. “I died.”
Disclaimer: Bullshit and lies, same as usual.
Author's Notes: This story would be nowhere without the amazing assistance of
freakydarling . She read and re-read and corrected and re-corrected at a speed that kept me straight up on my toes and kept my energy going. Without her help, I don't think I'd have felt the urge to finish the thing. So, if you love it, she gets a heaping dose of credit. If you hate it, that's all on me.Steve tries his key again and huffs out a breath when it still won’t work. He wants to call Tony, see if he can come over with his spare, but he doesn’t have his cell. He’s not sure where he’s left it.
The door swings open suddenly, and Steve falls into a defensive stance at the same time as he hears the snap of a gun safety releasing. “What the—Bucky, what are you doing?”
“Who are you?”
Steve blinks. Bucky’s arm isn’t moving. The gun is aimed between his eyes. “What kind of—”
“Who,” Bucky steps forward, and the gun touches Steve’s forehead, “are you?”
“Steve Rogers. We fought together in World War II.” Steve fights not to flinch when the gun is pressed into his forehead.
“Try again.”
“Buck, I…I’m Steve, Bucky. It’s Steve.” Steve stands up straight, straightens his shoulders, and looks Bucky in the eyes. “It’s me, Buck. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m Steve Rogers.”
“How’d you get here?”
“I…” Steve blinks when he can’t find an answer. “I must have…” He stares at Bucky as his complete absence of memory hits him hard. “I don’t know. I…I have no idea. I was…” he can’t recall that either.
He considers everything he knows. His keys don’t work. Bucky’s in his apartment. There’s a gun to his head. He doesn’t have his phone or his Avengers tag. “I died.”
Bucky’s eyebrows go up. He adjusts his stance so the gun’s not-quite digging into Steve’s head. “Are you sure?”
“No,” Steve says truthfully.
The gun drops; Bucky steps aside and waves him in. “I’m going to call reinforcements.”
“Okay.” Steve shuts the door and throws the lock as Bucky walks across the room. It is and isn’t his apartment. The couch and exercise equipment are his, but there’s a disassembled gun on the coffee table and the wrong kind of beer in the fridge. Steve takes a beer anyway and takes a long drink while he eavesdrops on Bucky’s conversation.
“Look, I’m telling you—I am not hallucinating…Yes, he’s here…I’m looking at him right now.”
Steve raises his beer in a toast and smirks when Bucky rolls his eyes. It’s another five minutes before Bucky’s off the phone, and Steve’s waiting with a beer.
“Stark says I shouldn’t trust it’s you.”
“He’s right.”
Bucky shrugs and takes a drink of his beer. “If I were wrong, you’d have attacked by now.”
“Maybe I’m waiting for a crowd.” Steve grins when Bucky snorts. “I could take on Tony.”
“I’m not arguing. I’m just think—” Bucky cuts off at the reverberating pounding on the door. “Hold that thought.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up when a dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents rush into the apartment. His eyebrows get a little bit higher when Tony follows in their wake, fully suited. “What, do you have S.H.I.E.L.D. on speed dial?”
There’s a click and a whirr, and then Tony’s looking at Steve as his helmet retracts. “I run S.H.I.E.L.D., Steve.”
“Since when?” Steve gets a crawling, worried sensation up his spine when everyone stares at him. “What?” He puts down his beer and takes a step back.
“Steve,” Tony says it softly, like Steve’s going to spook. “What year is it?”
“2006.” Tony doesn’t do anything, but Steve catches Bucky’s sudden shift. Wrong answer, then.
“Who’s leading The Avengers?”
“Why don’t tell you me what I don’t know?” Steve snaps.
“Who’s leading The Avengers?” Tony repeats, voice still soft.
“If you’re asking, then my answer’s going to be wrong. Why don’t you just—”
“It matters, Steve,” Tony interrupts, his face so serious it makes Steve want to back away farther. “So tell me. Who’s leading The Avengers?”
“We are. You and me.” Steve sighs in exasperation. “It’s you, me, Spider-Man, Spider-Woman, Luke Cage, Wolverine, Sentry when he’s healthy, and occasionally Carol when she’s bored.” Steve’s not sure he’s won or lost when Tony’s face crumbles just a little.
“Stand down,” Tony says to the agents.
“Sir—”
“Stand down.” There’s a growl in Tony’s words that Steve doesn’t recognize. It worries him.
“How long?” Steve asks.
“Not as long as before,” Bucky answers as Tony starts berating the agents still trying to argue. “But about as much has happened.”
“Hell,” Steve mutters. He picks up his beer, takes a drink, sets it down, and starts rolling up his sleeves.
“Going to start something?” Bucky asks, only half-joking.
“They’re going to want to draw blood sometime. I’m just preparing.”
Bucky barks a laugh, and Tony and the agents all turn to stare at him. “Something funny, Barnes?” Tony asks sharply.
“Everything,” Bucky says dryly. He looks at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and waves a hand. “Get out. This is my place, and I say get out. If you think Stark and I can’t take one guy in a fight, bitch about it later.”
No one moves. Tony sighs. “Fine. If you won’t listen to a direct order and a polite request, let me turn it into a threat. If you haven’t cleared the property in two minutes, every single one of you is fired, blacklisted, and shot in the foot. Get. Out.” The agents flee. Tony shakes his head. “Christ.”
“And you say you’re running the place?”
“Shut up, Steve.” Tony says amiably. He looks at Bucky. “Call the Tower. Tell whoever’s there to track down Strange.”
Steve watches Bucky walk across the room to retrieve the phone and looks back at Tony just in time to get blinded by a bright flash. “Hey!” He protests, blinking the spots out of his eyes. “What was that?”
“Skrull-Checker.”
“Why not just get Logan here to sniff me?”
Tony presses his lips together for a few seconds. “You’ve been gone awhile Steve.”
“I’m figuring that out.”
*
“It’s him,” Dr. Strange tells Tony quietly. “At the core of himself, he is himself.”
“How?”
“There’s a trace,” Dr. Strange says slowly, “of a power I know well. As do you.”
Tony breathes in deep and counts to ten. “Who?”
“Wanda.”
Tony looks over his shoulder. Steve’s on the couch, Bucky beside him, talking about something that makes them both smile. “Why?”
“You’d have to ask Wanda.” Dr. Strange shakes his head. “Although, she may not know she’s done it.”
“Great.” Tony works his neck back and forth until it pops. “I miss the old days. Ice blocks were easier.”
“He has no memory block,” Dr. Strange says. “He just has no memory.”
“Well, that’s something.” Tony gives Dr. Strange a strained smile. “Thanks for the help.”
“I’m always near,” and then he’s gone in a small billow of smoke.
Tony turns to face Steve and Bucky. “Strange says you’re you.”
“Good to hear,” Steve stands and stretches. “So, what’s next?”
“Debriefing,” Tony answers. “I’d like to do it elsewhere. I could use a change of clothes.”
“I’m good wherever.” Steve looks at Bucky. “Any opinions?”
“I’m staying here,” Bucky answers. “I’m not going to be much help, and I’m due to patrol in a couple of hours.”
“Patrol?”
“He’s taken on the mantle, Steve,” Tony explains because Bucky looks completely ill at ease. “He’s done a good job.”
Steve beams at Bucky. “Of course he has. Thank you, Buck.”
“Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “Sure.”
“I’ve got a car waiting downstairs for you, Steve,” Tony says after a moment of heavy silence. “I’ll meet you at the Tower.”
“I’ll be down in a minute, Tony,” Steve replies, watching the way Bucky’s very clearly not twitching. He waits for Tony to leave. “Bucky?”
“It’s weird,” Bucky states. “It seems like…” He shakes his head. “I guess I’m waiting for an explosion or the end of the world.”
Steve laughs softly. “Or Loki, maybe.”
“Exactly.” Bucky looks around the room. “If you want to move back in, just let me know.”
“Let’s not worry about that now,” Steve insists with a wave of his hand. “It looks like you’ve kept it up well.”
“I’m trying,” Bucky glances at the coffee table. “I’m carrying guns.”
Steve glances at the coffee table as well. “I’m sure it’s the right thing to do.”
“Are you?” Bucky watches Steve think about it.
“I don’t even know what year it is, Buck,” Steve scrubs a hand over his hair. “For all I know, you should be carrying a cannon.”
“Thanks,” Bucky says quietly.
*
Tony lands in the garage of the Tower, dismantles his suit, and runs his hands over his face. “Shit.”
“Tony?” Pepper walks around the corner and cocks her head. “Everything okay?”
“Any messages?” Tony asks briskly.
“Three reporters I sent on their way and strange looks from everyone when I cleared the Tower on your orders.” Pepper holds out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “I’m assuming you’re not wearing underwear.”
“I’ve always liked your hunches, Pep.”
She rolls her eyes and turns around, listening as Tony slides into his clothes. “Are you going to tell me why I had to push everyone out the door, or are you going to make me guess?” Pepper turns back to face Tony when she hears him sigh. “I can’t tell if that’s a good sigh or not.”
“I’m not sure either.” Tony smoothes his shirt over his chest and slides his hands into his pockets. “This is one of those times, Pepper—”
“Where I don’t hear a thing until you make the announcement,” Pepper finishes with a knowing grin.
Tony nods and shares in her smile. “Yeah.” He bites his lip. “Steve’s back.”
Pepper blinks, and her knuckles go white on her clipboard. “What?”
“Strange confirmed it was him, and the Skrull-Checker didn’t turn him green.”
“H-how?”
Tony shakes his head. “Wanda, probably, but I don’t want to put money there, yet.”
“Why not?”
“Implications,” Tony says quietly. He gives Pepper an assessing stare. “What do you know?”
“Not a damned thing.”
“Good. Steve will be here soon. I’m going up to the lobby to meet him.”
“I’ll stay down here and pretend not to worry.”
“You’re the best, Pep.” Tony waves as he steps onto the elevator. He presses the button for the lobby and leans against the back wall, slumping until most of his weight is on the handrail. “Of all the damned…” he trails off and looks at himself in the reflection of the elevator doors. “You look like shit, Tony.”
The elevator dings, and Tony pulls himself up. The lobby’s quiet, just the security at the desk, and Tony sends him away with a wave of his hand. He looks out the front doors and wonders what Steve’s seeing as he gets driven across the city. It’s not the same city it was in 2006; it’s not even close, and Tony considers the possibility that Steve may have to be talked down from the proverbial ledge.
Tony spots the town car coming down the street and walks out the front door, standing on the bottom step to watch Steve get out of the car. “Hey,” he says when Steve straightens up.
“Hi,” Steve says distractedly, looking up and down the street. “I missed a lot.” He steps up next to Tony and looks around again. “What year is it?”
“2010.”
“How’d all this happen in four years?”
Tony looks up and down the street. It’s been improved greatly in the last eight months as construction has really taken hold. There are two buildings already in the finishing stages, and the report he knows Pepper has for him will tell him another four are to their halfway points. “Let’s get upstairs. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of anyone who could wander by.”
“The paranoia’s new,” Steve comments as they step on the elevator.
“There’s a new reason for it.” Tony looks Steve over, head to toe, and smiles when Steve meets his eyes. “There was a pool going for awhile.”
“Who won?”
“I’ll have to check with Peter. He was keeping track of the odds. I think they were 20-1 last week.”
Steve chuckles. “Well, whoever placed the winning bet owes me a beer.”
“At least.”
The elevator opens to the foyer of the penthouse, and Tony leads the way to the kitchen. He pours himself a cup of coffee and holds up the carafe. “It’s dark roast.”
“Perfect.” Steve sits on a stool at the counter and looks around. “I figured you’d clear out everyone, but I didn’t think you’d send Jarvis out the door.”
“Jarvis is…” Tony stares into his coffee. He blinks hard. “Jarvis is dead.”
“Tony, I—”
“Jessica Drew is dead,” Tony continues, eyes still on his coffee. “Hank Pym is dead. Black—”
“Tony,” Steve interrupts, standing up from his stool. “What the hell happened while I was gone?”
“You were dead, Steve. Well and truly.” Tony turns and hands Steve his coffee. “Sharon was under mind control by Doctor Faustus and shot you in the head when you were leaving the courthouse.” Tony watches Steve take in the information. He knows the next question.
“Why was I at a courthouse?”
“You surrendered yourself to the authorities to stop a war.”
Steve blinks. “Did I start the war?”
Tony breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. “That’s where things get murky.” He walks down the steps to the living room and sits on the couch. “What’s your last memory?”
“You mean before today.”
“Yes.” Tony’s eyebrows go up when Steve suddenly turns a bit pink. “Oh?”
“It’s you and me. In bed.”
Tony nearly spits out his coffee. He manages, just barely, to keep a straight face. “Anything fun going on?”
“Sure,” there’s a look in Steve’s eyes that Tony remembers far too well. “Always was, wasn’t there?”
Tony wants to say yes and back Steve up against the kitchen counter. Tony wants to go to sleep and wake up and find out that everything’s been a dream in the last four years. “Do you remember the Superhuman Registration Act?” He asks instead of giving in. No use getting Steve into bed if he won’t want to be there more than once.
“I don’t recall it.” Steve sits next to Tony and cradles his coffee cup. “What bureaucrat backed that idiocy?”
This is going to hurt, Tony thinks. “A lot of them. I was on the opposition to begin with, but circumstances changed.”
“Who died?”
“600 civilians in Stamford, Connecticut. Nitro exploded when fighting the New Warriors.”
“Okay.” Steve takes a drink of his coffee. He sets his mug on the coffee table. He laces his fingers together. “Walk me through it.” His tone is even, but Tony knows how to read it. Steve wants a full explanation, no stone unturned, and he’s willing to put in the time to get it.
“I’m going to order in some food. The whole thing goes sideways pretty quickly.”
“You’re stalling.”
“That too.”
“Pizza okay?”
“Sure.”
Tony walks across the room to place the call. He orders a large sausage with extra cheese. When he hangs up the phone, Steve’s behind him, just close enough to make his skin prickle.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Such an innocuous question, Tony thinks. “No,” He says quickly and turns around. “I work too much.”
“Why are you director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
“No one else wanted the job.” Tony licks his lips and slides his hands into his pockets.
“That’s not true.” There’s a smirk trying to stay hidden at the corner of Steve’s mouth. “You don’t think anyone else will do it right.”
“Maybe,” Tony admits quietly. Steve steps closer, and Tony can smell him. The leather of his jacket, a waft of his two-dollar shampoo; Tony closes his eyes against the memories.
“Tony,” Steve’s voice is soft and concerned.
“This isn’t—” Tony can’t say anything else when Steve’s hand slides across his face, fingers brushing his ear.
“How long have you been blaming yourself?”
My whole life, Tony thinks. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Tony opens his eyes. Steve’s right in front of him, worry deep in his eyes. “You didn’t believe in registration. I thought you were being naïve and pig-headed. You thought I was being a controlling dick. You went underground and the only time I saw you for months was during a fight.”
“I can’t believe we couldn’t come to terms.”
“I told you it all went sideways.”
Steve shakes his head. “It’s not your fault I wouldn’t listen.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe I didn’t want—”
“Stop that,” Steve says firmly. “My inability to compromise wasn’t your fault.”
Tony tries to breathe deep, and his breath stutters in his chest. “You gave yourself up to stop the fighting. You let yourself be arrested because you couldn’t stand the cost of human life. You were brave.”
“Standing by your beliefs doesn’t make you weak, Tony.”
Tony hears him, but it means nothing. There’s too much to say, too much to admit. “We met once, in the middle of all of it. You told me I didn’t want to listen to you because I wanted to be right. I said you were using your status as Captain America to get people to side with you.”
“Shush,” Steve says and steps in closer. He pulls Tony in and hugs him tightly. “You’ve had four years to find fault in this. I don’t even remember any of it. It can’t—”
“You have to know, Steve. I can’t pretend like it never happened, and that means I have to tell you all of it.” Tony steps away and crosses his arms over his chest. He breathes deep. “I had Reed clone Thor to take out Goliath, and now Bill’s dead.”
“Tony—”
“I built a prison in the Negative Zone. I locked up anyone I could capture who hadn’t registered. I shot Bruce Banner into space because I thought the Hulk was too much of a threat.”
“Tony, I—”
“I turned myself into a complete hypocrite and provided Bucky with the necessary funds and information to make him into Captain America.”
“That’s not—”
“I gave you to Namor, Steve.” Tony presses his palms against his eyes. “I put an LMD in your casket for Arlington and had you buried at sea with Namor’s help. I caused—”
“Tony, shut up.” Steve grabs Tony by the shoulders and gives him a shake. “Tell me what happened in as much detail as you want, but don’t make yourself the villain. Whatever I thought of you during this registration mess doesn’t matter. I don’t remember it. Give me the facts, and I’ll draw my own conclusions.”
“You wouldn’t even talk to me at the end of it, and afterwards, so much went wrong, and I think I’ve been tired ever since.”
Steve slides his hands over Tony’s shoulders and cradles his face. “Tell me everything.”
So Tony tells him everything. Steve says nothing outside of the occasional bit of encouragement. Tony walks him through the war a piece at a time; detailing Stamford, moving to their blow-out, and trying not to make himself look good in any of it. Steve keeps a hand on his arm and worry lines creep around the edges of his mouth when he pulls his lips tight.
"I'm not going to absolve you, Tony," Steve says, hours later and the remains of the pizza cold. "But if you're waiting for me to blame you some more, you're not going to get it."
"If I'd listened to you—”
"Registration passed, right?" Steve interrupts.
"Yes."
"Has anyone been compromised?"
Tony heaves in a breath. "Not in the way you're thinking." He looks Steve in the eyes and tries for a sarcastic smile. "Lot's changed since you died."
Steve raises his eyebrows. "What else could have possibly happened?"
"There was a full-on invasion by the Skrulls. They'd planned it for years. Jarvis and the others are dead because the Skrulls came in, took them, and replaced them. The rebuilding outside is from their main attack. If I hadn't been so—”
"You can't berate yourself every second of the day, Tony." Steve reaches out and reels Tony in with a hand on his neck. He leans in the deep cushions of the couch and tightens his grip so Tony can't get away. "And you can't predict the future."
Tony presses his head into Steve's shoulder. "We tried, Reed and I."
"Of course you tried," Steve laughs a little. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't try. But that doesn't change the fact that, no matter how badly you want it, you can't save the whole world in one fell swoop."
"We were going to have teams in every state."
"And the invasion happened?"
"Yeah." Tony tries to sit up straight, but Steve holds him close. "I'm fine."
"Sure." Steve's grip doesn't lessen.
"The Skrulls found a way to adjust their bodies to make it impossible for us to tell them from the people they replaced. Logan couldn't smell them, and they'd only regress to their natural state if they were killed."
"You invented the Skrull-Checker?"
"Found it in the Savage Land after a crash landing." Tony pulls away when Steve practically doubles over with laughter. "What?"
"Sorry," Steve says and tries to school his features. "Just, god, all this about how much things have changed, and it's still not possible to land properly in the Savage Land."
Tony can't help but smile. "The more things change, I suppose." He sits upright and leans into the couch, throwing his arm over the back so that it rests just next to Steve's shoulders. "It was a mess. A complete clusterfuck. We've still not recovered."
Steve sobers up instantly. "And the civilians?"
"The heroes got a hero's celebration. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fat is still in the fryer."
"You weren't kidding about no one wanting your job."
"No, I wasn't."
Steve leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He watches Tony for a few seconds. "Have you slept well at all lately?"
"No," Tony answers blandly. "How can I?"
"God." Steve rests his head in his hands. "How you can walk upright when you feel guilty for every misstep you've made, I don't even know."
"And I'm not even Catholic."
"Don't joke."
Tony doesn't get a chance to snap back. Steve's suddenly crowding him against the couch, knees on either side of Tony's thighs. Steve kisses him, single-mindedly like he does everything, and Tony grips hard on his arms, pulls him in until they're chest-to-chest, and falls into it headfirst.
Skrull-Checkers and Strange be damned, Tony thinks. This is Steve. No one's ever kissed him like Steve.
"A-hem."
Tony wonders how Steve managed to clear his throat when Tony's busy trying to get his tongue down it.
"A-HEM."
That makes Tony pull away. He'd know that impolite attention-getter anywhere. "Yes, Pepper?" He doesn't look away from Steve. Steve's eyes are bright, his lips swollen, and his cheeks are flushed.
"Not meaning to interrupt—Steve, glad you're not dead—but I did want to check a few things with you before I called it a night."
"Sure," Tony says as Steve thanks Pepper for her concern. "Let everyone into the building tomorrow. Half a day off is enough stock damage for me."
"And what time should the team be here tomorrow?"
"Two," Steve says before Tony can start to negotiate a time. "It'll make sure everyone's well-rested enough to handle the news." There's a shine in his eyes that makes Tony hot under his clothes.
"You heard the man, Pep."
"I see him, too," she gets in as she leaves. "You owe me coffee for this, Steve."
"Sure," Steve mutters so only Tony can hear him. "I'll get on that."
“Uh-huh.” The door clicks audibly as Pepper waves goodbye.
Tony arches when Steve’s hand slides under his T-shirt. He sighs when Steve presses him into the cushions. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“You have no concept—”
Steve kisses Tony hard, teeth digging into Tony’s bottom lip. He groans when Tony gives as good as he’s getting and pulls away to look Tony in the eyes. “If I say I missed you, I missed you.”
Tony laughs. “The last memory you have is the two of us in bed.”
“And I just got four years of history that said I wasn’t there.”
“Okay,” Tony agrees because it makes Steve smile. “You missed me.”
“Damn right.” Steve climbs off of Tony and pulls him to his feet. “Tell me the bedroom’s in the same place.”
“The bedroom’s in the same place.”
*
Steve rolls over and blinks awake, wondering why he’s coming to at—he squints at the clock—2:36 in the morning. There’s a sound like an incredibly electronic doorbell, and Steve realizes an earpiece on Tony’s bedside table is blinking. “Tony,” Steve says quietly, poking Tony in the shoulder.
“Hrmm,” Tony says and rolls over.
Steve pokes him again. “Tony, your earpiece is going off.”
The earpiece dings again, and Tony’s suddenly straight up in bed, groping blindly for the earpiece. His hand brushes Steve’s chest, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he gets hold of the earpiece. “What?” He barks into it as he attaches it to his ear.
Steve settles himself back into a prone position and tucks his hands behind his head. This is a Tony he knows well—the chronic overachiever who will wake from the sleep of the dead to take a phone call.
“When did that happen?”
Steve’s brow furrows as Tony’s tone changes. He sits up again and touches Tony’s side. Tony slides a glance at him and seems surprised to find Steve there.
“Hill, I’m calling you back.” Tony yanks off the earpiece and looks at Steve. “You really are here.”
“Be quite the dream if it wasn’t.” Steve smiles when Tony smiles at him.
“Yeah. I guess so.” Tony rolls his eyes when his earpiece dings again. “Sorry. Hold on.” He puts it back to his ear. “I said I’d call you—if you can’t figure out how to deploy a team without me there to hold your hand, maybe it’s time to reconsider your posit—same to you, Hill. Believe me.”
Steve takes the earpiece from Tony and presses the button to shut it off. He tucks it under his pillow and lies down. “I think that’s enough for this time of night.”
“She’s going to call Pepper.”
“I’m betting Pepper can take her in a fight.” Steve reaches out and smiles when Tony settles next to him. “I can’t be certain, but I’d bet good money your heart rate is in the danger zone.”
“Isn’t it always?”
Steve looks closely at Tony. There’s gray threading his hair, and the lines around his eyes look like they’ve been worn-in. He taps his finger against the edge of Tony’s eye. “Better be careful, those look like they want to stick around.”
“It’ll make me look distinguished,” Tony says quietly, brushing away Steve’s finger.
“Yeah, but will you feel distinguished?”
“I don’t know. I’ll let you know if I ever do.”
“Hey,” Steve says sharply, and props his head on hand, “none of that.”
“Sorry.” Tony flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “I’m more battle-worn than you remember, Steve. Maybe we shouldn’t—”
“And none of that,” Steve says fiercely. He maneuvers so that he’s looming in Tony’s face. “I’ve got four years I won’t get back, same as you. Don’t regret the here and now.”
“I should have Pepper embroider that on a pillow.”
Steve grins. “Well, if it’ll help you remember, I’ll do it myself.”
“I’d love to see that. The famed Captain America working on samplers and darning his own socks.”
“Actually, I can darn my own socks.”
Tony laughs. “Of course you can.”
Steve bites the end of Tony’s nose. “Damn straight. I’ll darn yours too, if you say please.”
“I just might.” Tony closes his eyes and murmurs happily when Steve settles in tight against him. “It shouldn’t be this easy,” he says mostly to himself, but the way Steve shifts, he knows he’s heard him.
“Why not?”
“This isn’t how things happen. You’re supposed to punch me for getting you killed.”
“Tony?”
“Yes?”
“You’re an idiot.” Steve presses his fingers against Tony’s sternum. “We’ve gotten through worse than this.”
“You say that now.”
“And I’ll say it tomorrow.” Steve yawns. “Or, today, if you want to be technical.”
“The team—”
“Go to sleep, Tony.”
Tony gives a huge yawn and curls a hand around Steve’s bicep. “Okay. Goodnight, Steve.”
“Goodnight, Tony.”
*
Tony is a consummate businessman. He can charm his way anywhere. He’s forever at ease discussing deals, brokering options, and finding the best way to motivate employees. His manners are impeccable.
But Tony the businessman, Steve thinks, is a thin disguise. Tony the man is a great deal more complicated, and while he can slide into his business manners to get through personal issues, Steve’s not letting it happen.
“I can’t guarantee Peter’s going to show. There are days I wait for him to pants me and hang me from the spire by my ankles.” Tony says casually as he flips through the paper at a quarter after one. “Luke’s thawed some, but he’s still a ‘maybe.’”
“Did Pepper piss off anyone during all the excitement I missed?” Steve asks as he steals the sports section.
“Of course not; she’s Pepper.”
“Then everyone will show up.” Steve lowers the sports page and gives Tony a hard look. “The Cubs won the pennant?”
“2008. It was a big deal.”
“Figures,” Steve shakes his head. “I might actually be dead for good by the time they win it again.”
Tony glances up from the business section. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Maybe a little.”
“I’m okay.” The way Tony rattles the paper says otherwise.
“Fine, then I’m distracting myself,” Steve argues. “Please tell me there’s no weird cult associated with me or something.”
Tony snorts. “Quite the swelled head you’ve grown there, Steve.” He folds the business section and moves onto the society page. “You are remembered, of course, but it’s nothing organized.” He pauses for just a second and looks at Steve through his lashes. “As far as I know, anyway.”
Steve gives in and laughs. “Read your paper,” he orders as he stands up. “Want some water?”
“Sure,” Tony says without looking up.
Steve pulls two bottles of water from the fridge and tosses one to Tony. He’s crossing back to the couch when the penthouse door slam opens and Luke Cage barrels in, obviously unhappy.
“You think you can just call and order me places, Stark?” Luke asks as he zeroes in on Tony. “Just because you get Pep—the hell is that?”
“Luke,” Steve greets with a nod. “How’s the baby?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“He’s Steve,” Tony interjects. He’s still sitting on the couch, but his posture has changed. His back’s straight, and the way he folds the paper is precise, meant to draw attention without being distracting. “Dr. Strange and the Skrull-Checker have both confirmed it.”
Luke looks like he’s been slammed in the gut with a lamppost. “How?”
“We don’t know,” Steve answers and holds out his water. “Drink?”
“Sure.” Luke takes the bottle and sinks into a chair. He stares at Steve. “How long have you been back?”
“Mid-day yesterday,” Steve says.
Luke glares at Tony. “How long were you gonna sit on this?”
“Until two,” Tony answers coolly. “By Steve’s request.”
“There’ll be plenty of questions, Luke,” Steve says with a smile. “You mind holding onto the rest of yours until everyone else gets here?”
“I don’t like this.”
“Duly noted,” Tony snaps.
“And they’ll be plenty of time for that as well,” Steve says, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Or have things changed so much someone will take a swing at you?”
“Those feeling have mostly passed,” Tony assures him.
Steve’s tempted to redefine Tony’s definition of “mostly passed” when two o’clock comes and the tension in the room skyrockets. He knows part of the tension is his simply being there, but he can’t ignore some of the looks Tony is getting.
“Prove it,” Peter says after Tony’s walked everyone through the basics.
“I can assure you, Peter, that Steve is Steve.”
Peter gives Dr. Strange a skeptical glance. “Yeah, and magic is neat, but I’m talking science. What scientific proof—”
“You threw up on Mary Jane on a Ferris Wheel on Coney Island,” Steve says, only feeling slightly guilty. “How many people have you told that to?”
“Forget science,” Peter blushes to the top of his head. “It’s him.”
“Smells like him, but that don’t mean much now,” Logan grinds his teeth around his cigar. “You say the Skrull-Checker cleared him?”
“Yes,” Tony says, the stress starting to show in the set of his shoulders. “He didn’t even glint green.”
“Are we certain the Skrull-Checker is still functioning properly?”
The dirty look Tony gives Reed makes Steve smile. “I’m going to ignore that question.”
“Look, it’s me,” Steve cuts in before an argument can break out. “If you don’t believe it, I can’t prove it to you.”
There’s a short pause, and then She-Hulk pushes to the front of the crowd, picks up Steve, and swings him around. “It’s you! Only the you-you would say something like that.”
“Thanks, Jen,” Steve grits his teeth when she hugs a little too tight. “If you could put me down soon, that’d be great.”
“Never! You’re back!”
Jen’s enthusiasm wins over the rest of the crowd, and Steve is almost instantly surrounded for hugs, back pats, and the requisite almost-crying. Tony steps away from the general excitement and looks out the windows and down into the street. People are milling about like it’s any other day. He wonders what will happen when the news of Steve’s return goes public.
“Tony, a moment, if you please.”
Tony turns from the window and smiles at Beast. “Of course. What can I do for you Hank?”
Hank looks over his shoulder at the assembled crowd. “You have a theory, or possibly an idea of a theory as to why Steve’s back.”
“I don’t,” Tony says quietly, not wanting to draw attention.
“You’re a scientist, Tony. There’s always a hypothesis, at least.”
“I’ll grant the idea of a hypothesis.”
Hank’s eyebrows go up. “Oh?”
“And I’m not going to explain it until I have more than a hypothesis.”
“I have always admired your scientific side, Tony.”
Tony chuckles at Hank’s smile. “Thank you, Hank.”
Steve breaks away from the crowd and throws an arm around Tony’s shoulder. “And you thought someone would punch you in the face.”
“There’s still time.”
Steve shakes his head. “You are your own worst enemy.”
“Put that on a pillow, too.”
Hank smiles at the two of them. “Wonderful to have you back, Steve.”
“Thank you, Hank.” Steve grins at Tony when Hank walks away. “What were you talking about over here?”
“You, of course.”
“Hmmm.” Steve gives Tony a considering look. “I believe you, but I don’t at the same time.”
“This isn’t the time.”
Luke walks over with his hand out, interrupting the conversation. “Tony, I just wanted—”
“Sure,” Tony says quickly, shaking Luke’s hand. “I understand your reservations.”
Luke doesn’t get a chance to respond before the crowd moves over to re-engulf Steve in celebration.
“I’m ordering pizza!” She-Hulk yells over the noise.
“Charge it to the Avengers account,” Tony yells in response.
The pizza guy looks mildly frightened when Tony answers the doorbell. “Big party,” he says, and Tony catches the way his eyes widen at the sight of Kurt poking Jan with his tail.
“We like to have a good time,” Tony says and tips the kid twice the cost of the pies. “Anyone asks, it’s just a few friends up here, clear?”
“Sure, man. Whatever.”
The kid’s bravado makes Tony chuckle. The sudden push on the door from a rather angry-looking Maria Hill makes him wish for backup. “Maria,” Tony throws open the door so that Maria has to fight to keep her footing. “What brings you by?”
“Other than the orgy?”
“A little credit, please, Hill. I don’t usually start my orgies until long after dark.” Tony watches her scan the room, and he follows her line of sight. Steve’s surrounded by people in the far corner of the room, but Tony doubts Hill can identify Steve by his hair alone. “So,” and he drops his voice to make sure her intrusion is noted, “what brings you by?”
“You’ve been incommunicado for over twelve hours, Stark. It raised a few flags.”
“Personal matters, Hill.”
She scowls at him. “You’re director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony. You don’t have personal matters.”
Tony pinches the bridge of his nose and watches Maria scan the room again. “You looking for something in particular?”
“The personal matter,” Maria’s tone is pure ice. “I don’t see anything leggy enough for your tastes.” Her eyes widen, and Tony knows he’s about to lose the battle. “Is that—”
“Maria!” Steve cuts across the room with ease. “I didn’t think you were on the guest list.”
“There was a guest list?” Maria looks ready to flay Tony with a particularly dull knife. “And how long have you been back?”
Tony presses his lips together to keep from smiling at Steve’s pole axed look. “Steve surfaced yesterday, Maria. I was going—”
“I’m sure you were,” she cuts in with the dirtiest look she’s ever given Tony. “You’re the Director, Tony. When people come back from the dead, you call someone.”
“I think I should just…” Steve glances at Tony and plants his feet. “Never mind.”
“This doesn’t concern you, Rogers.”
“Actually, Ms. Hill, as you’re discussing my miraculous recovery, I think this very much concerns me.”
“Steve, she’s right. This is much less about you than about how she feels about my position.”
“I’ve got a position for you right here, Stark.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Well. Okay.” He touches Tony’s arm and points to the opposite side of the room. “A quick word before you two have it out?”
“Of course,” Tony agrees while the color goes up a notch in Maria’s face. He lets Steve lead him to the other side of the room and gives him his best smile. “Yes?”
“Wipe that smirk off your face,” Steve can’t keep the smirk off his. “You’re antagonizing her because you can.”
“She antagonizes—”
“Why are you running S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony?”
“Haven’t we had this conversation?” Tony raises his eyebrows at Steve’s hard look. “What? We have.”
“No, you’ve told me it’s because no one else wants the job.”
“No one does.”
“Really?” Steve exaggerates looking over his shoulder at Maria Hill. “She’d take it off your hands.”
“And run it into the ground. No, thank you.” Tony holds up a hand to keep Steve from interrupting. “You threw yourself out of the Helicarrier and rode a fighter jet to a football field to keep from taking her orders.”
Steve laughs. “I did not.”
“You did. I have the surveillance photos, and I won’t let someone you don’t trust run the place.” Tony looks away at the emotion that suddenly surfaces in Steve’s eyes. “I guess when I say no one wants the job, I mean that I haven’t found anyone good enough for your standards.”
“Tony,” Steve shakes his head. “You can’t use me to set your standards.”
“You’re the most honorable man I know, Steve.”
Steve looks at his feet. “I’m just an old soldier, Tony.”
“You’re not.” Tony catches the end of a glare from Maria before she’s distracted by Logan. “S.H.I.E.L.D.’s standards should be as high as their best operative. That’s you.”
“I was dead, Tony.”
“You were still the best, Steve.”
“Okay, fine, I’m the best. But I’m alive right now and looking at you, and I think you should quit.”
Tony crosses his arms. “Oh, yeah? Why?”
“Because you hate it,” Steve says like it’s enough.
“That’s not—”
“Because it makes you tired all the time. Because your second-in-command is currently debating the size of body bag she’ll need. Because I’m here now, and you can forgive yourself for all the wrong-doings you didn’t actually do.”
“I…you can’t expect me to agree for no reason.”
“Then agree because you know I’m right.”
Tony rolls his eyes at Steve’s presumption, but he doesn’t get a chance to argue. Jessica Jones cuts between them and pulls at Steve’s arm. “Jen’s about to start some music, and you have to dance with me.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” Steve gives Tony one last serious look. “Do it, Tony.”
“I don’t do things just because you say so.”
“You’re saying I’m wrong?”
“I’m saying…” Tony trails off and rubs a hand through his hair. “Oh, god, who am I kidding?” He walks across the room and stands toe-to-toe with Maria. “You don’t like me.”
“True,” she puts her hands on her hips. “What that has to do—”
“Shut up, Hill; I’m about to make you a very happy agent.” Tony pauses to make sure she actually stays quiet. “I quit.”
Maria blinks. “What?”
“I quit. You will not succeed me, but you won’t have to deal with me anymore.” Tony doesn’t wait for her to recover. “Pepper will be in contact with you to get your recommendations for a new director.”
“I’ve got more experience—”
“I don’t like you, Maria, and now that I’m no longer your boss, I will gleefully boot your ass out of here.” Tony throws open the door and gestures grandly. “Get out.”
She stares. “You can’t be serious.”
“Good bye, Maria. I think you’ll understand when I don’t wish you good luck.” Tony breaks into a grin when she storms out, muttering under her breath, and throwing him one last angry look. He shuts and locks the door before turning around.
She-Hulk is behind him, and she’s smiling like the world’s in order. “I did not just see that.”
“You did,” Tony replies, and offers his arm. “Care to take a spin on the dance floor?”
“Is this a double party now?”
Tony spots Steve in the middle of the floor, dipping Jessica Jones with an understated flourish. “No. This falls under the general celebration of having Steve back. Let’s just enjoy it.”
Part Two
