Chapter 3
It happens when Tony is about to be crushed by The Statue of Liberty, which happens to be walking across New York at the time.
He's in the middle of doing something stupidly heroic and self-sacrificing ("Must be a Thursday," Clint yells at him later), when he gets swiped by the torch that Lady Liberty is holding and plummets into the ground.
He raises his head - fuck, concussion- and looks up to see a giant green foot bearing down on him that isn't the Hulk.
He starts to get up, but one of his repulsors won't-
All of a sudden, he finds himself wrapped around six feet of All-American Hero, who is downright charging him out of the way.
Tony, who at this point is very, very concussed, can only stare and let himself be manhandled as Lady Liberty's foot crushes the concrete where they were just standing.
"That was st'pid." Tony mumbles, black spots dancing in front of his eyes. "Y' could've got hurt. Moron. Y're a moron."
Cap is panting. "Yeah, well. If you can't run, you walk. If you can't walk, you crawl. If you can't crawl, y-" he pauses to sling his shield across a giant (and lethal) teddy bear's chest.
"You find someone to carry you," Cap finishes, adjusting his cowl. "Are you okay?"
Steve's bottom lip is split, and there's dirt all over his suit, and it hits Tony like a kick to the nuts: hi, I'm in love with you.
Tony is swaying slightly, stuck between shock at his revelation and: "Did- did you just quote Firefly at me?"
"Yes, yes I did. Tony, seriously, are you-"
Tony doesn't hear the rest of it, because his double vision starts getting worse and he passes out.
-
Everyone sits by Tony in the hospital for three hours- 'everyone' being Clint, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Pepper, and Darcy, for some reason.
Darcy keeps randomly belting out lyrics and then stopping. Apparently she does it when she's nervous.
"It's just a concussion," Natasha says finally, after more than an hour of silence. "He'll be fine. Why are we all here?"
Bruce looks up from his tablet. "Because when your friend is in the hospital, this is what you do. Or so I've heard. Besides, it's Tony. With his luck, it'll probably turn out to be an inoperable tumour."
"That's not funny," Steve says quietly, watching the slow rise and fall of Tony's chest.
It's been two and a half months since Steve has been unfrozen. In that time, they've got up to season 4 of Buffy- there's a girl named Tara on the show who Steve has grown affectionate of, but everyone else keeps casting him knowing looks when she talks to Willow, and Steve can't figure out why.
The nightmares haven't gone away, but they're very definitely fading. Steve only wakes up a few times a week with a phantom hand outstretched towards him, the gasp of Peggy's brown eyes, the ice encircling him, Bucky's body twisting in the air as he falls.
Just a concussion, Steve reminds himself, and tries to stop himself from thinking about the soft angle of Tony's mouth cast into light from where he's lying. Yes, it's not illegal, but Tony is his friend- hell, his best friend, even- and he doesn't want to foul that up with- with whatever he's feeling.
"Whoa, jeez, personal space, guys."
Steve looks up and Tony's head is raised slightly, frowning.
"Hey, Tony."
"Hey, Steve," Tony mumbles, confused. "What ha- oh my god, Natasha's smiling."
Everyone turns to look at Natasha, who quickly attempts to stop.
"What?" She says. "Tony's not dead and I'm happy about it. Hence, I smile."
"I'm sure he's touched." Clint nudges her shoulder with his, smiling fondly.
"I am," Tony says. "Very touched indeed. Touched to the max. Touchapalooza. I'm still concussed, aren't I? Please say I didn't just say 'touchapalooza' when I'm normal. Normal. Noooormal."
"They gave you some painkillers," Steve grins, watching Tony's head roll around on his neck. "You look so sophisticated right now."
"Damn straight," Tony slurs, moving his head from side to side.
"Well, it's nice to see you're your usual healthy, sensible self," sighs Pepper, getting up, "but I have a company to run. I'll see you later, Mr. Stark."
"See ya, Pep," Tony waves sloppily. "I'm glad we're speaking again. I like you."
A side of Pepper's mouth twitches. "I like you, too, Tony," she says, and closes the door behind her.
Thor frowns. "When did they stop talking? I was under the impression that they had a beautiful and epic romance."
"Pshhhhh," Tony says, pushing his head backwards into the pillow. "Didn't work out. Lasted a good two weeks, though, which I consider to be an accomplishment. Accomplishment. Acomplishhhhhh."
"Yes, nice work, Tony," Steve says, trying not to smile. "Clint, don't take pictures."
"But I want to mock him about it later," Clint whines.
Steve glares. "Put your phone away. You, too, Darcy."
Tony raises his head again. "Darcy? Oh, hey, Darcy!" He waves, and Darcy waves back just as enthusiastically.
Tony bobs his head at her. "You're nice. I like you, as well. I like everyone in this room, actually, which is weird, because usually I don't like lots of people. Lots."
"We like you, too, Tony," Bruce says from the end of the bed, definitely not laughing.
"Naaaah," Tony waves his wrist vaguely at Bruce. "People don't. 's bad idea."
Steve starts to say something, but Bruce cuts him off: "We like you, Tony," and everyone sort of looks at each other.
Tony makes a face. "You guys are weird. Weird. Bruce! Bruuuuuce," Tony drawls. "I liked you fiiiiiiirst."
Bruce raises his eyebrows. "Back at you."
"Hey, could we get him out of here before he does something really, really embarassing that will probably end up all over the news?" Natasha points at Tony, who is now staring avidly at his IV.
"I hate the news," Tony moans. "Bad stuff happens. I made a lot of bad stuff happen, too. Which is bad. It was on the news."
"Yeah, we know," Clint says. "Seriously, so none of us can video him for later?"
"No," Steve says. "Any of you get your phones out and I'm throwing them out the window."
"Like Steve, too," Tony says, and his hand latches onto Steve's wrist, but he's frowning. "Didn't like him at the start. He was mean. But now I do. Like him. Lots of like. Lots and lots of like for Steeeeve."
"Um. Thanks, Tony," Steve says. "You, too."
Tony flops his hands around. "Noooo. Lots of like. Looots."
Steve, blushing furiously, says to the rest of the room, "Would he be okay to go home now?"
-
Tara gets together with Willow- as in, a romantic relationship, as in they show it on television and it's allowed and Steve can't help but love the 21st century sometimes.
He was originally sad when Oz left, but Tara makes Willow happy, and that's what's important.
Everyone says he's too emotionally invested.
Tony's asleep- they have to wake him up once an hour, to make sure he's not dead, as one does when they're concussed, and everyone else is on the couch watching Buffy again, except for Thor, who is visiting Asguard.
So far, Steve's experience in the Avengers has had a lot more TV watching than actual fighting.
Tony shuffles into the lounge, squinting. "Please, dear god, tell me I didn't try to grope anyone."
Clint raises his arm, and Natasha swats him.
"Is he allowed to be moving around yet?" Steve asks, concerned.
Tony snarls. "I'm only sitting on the couch. I promise not to blow things up." He walks over to Steve and collapses beside him on the couch- usually he takes the floor, so Steve's kind of surprised.
But there's Tony's hand again, pushed haphazardly near Steve's thigh, and it's so normal now that Steve hardly notices.
Tony rubs a hand over the cut running through his eyebrow. "What episode are we up to?"
Natasha comes into the room holding a bottle of lemonade. "The one after Tara and Willow hook up."
"Mph," Tony says.
"Gotta give props to Joss," Clint says through a mouthful of popcorn. "Not many people would have the balls to pull that off."
"Pull what off," Tony mutters.
Clint throws a piece of popcorn into the air and catches it in his mouth. "Make her gay."
"Uh-huh," Tony says, his eyes drooping.
Steve looks around at everyone's faces. "Is it a big deal? Making her gay?"
Bruce glances at him and then back to the screen. "I guess so. I mean, she's one of the main characters. I have no idea how he got the people to approve it."
Steve says, "The people?"
Bruce nods. "The people."
Steve says, "I-" and then stops, because Tony's head has dropped onto his shoulder and he's snoring quietly.
Clint smirks. "Aw, ain't he cute?"
Yes, Steve thinks, watching the way Tony's mouth is sort of pressed against Steve's shoulder, how his eyelashes fan out over his cheeks.
"Hey, why-" Steve pauses, checking to see is Tony is actually asleep. After a few seconds, Tony shifts and starts snoring again, so Steve continued in a hushed voice: "Why do you think he doesn't think we like him?"
"Uh," Bruce says, "Not to be rude, but people- I mean, in general, don't like Tony. You know how he can be sometimes. I mean, I like him, he's a great guy, but- you didn't like him at first, Cap."
"I- well, yes, but-"
"First impressions, blah, blah," Clint says. "Tony's an acquired taste. You either hate him or grow to love him." He pauses. "Or, y'know, Stockholm Syndrome. Honestly, I think we're all just lucky that Cap didn't bring up his dad when they were shouting at each other on the Helicarrier."
Steve frowns. "Howard? Why?"
Clint takes a drag from the lemonade bottle. "Because then he would have a broken hand from punching Captain America, and I think that first impression would have lasted longer."
Steve opens his mouth, but Natasha says, "Tony and his father didn't exactly have the best relationship. With either of his parents, but with Howard especially."
"But- why?" Steve's voice gets a bit too loud at that, and he forces himself to talk quieter, checking nervously that Tony hasn't woken up. "I knew Howard, he was a good guy."
"Yeah, 70 years ago," Bruce says pointedly, and Steve remembers the tight expression Tony had given him when he had brought up Howard that one time- he had thought it was just because it's his dad, and he's dead, but hey, maybe not.
Steve says, "That's..." and just trails off.
He wants to ask Bruce more about it, because obviously he knows more about it, and Bruce- okay, he probably knows Tony better than him, he's just as close with Tony as Steve is, if not closer.
"Bruce and I are LB5E. Lab Buddies 5ever," Tony had said once, raising an eyebrow, and then, "I'll explain later, Capsicle," when Steve had looked confused at what the heck '5ever' meant.
He wants to ask, but Tony looks beautiful, and he still misses Peggy, and Bucky, and he only got a few hours of sleep last night due to the solid weight of the Howard that he never got to know and he's not sure he even likes, of not-Bucky and not-Peggy and not his decade.
His fingers itch for an easel or charcoal, so he just shuts up and watches Tara and Willow grin at each other and revels in how damn happy they look, how the TV is huge, how outside there are the sounds of New York, but not the New York that Steve is used to.
It's an ache that between his ribs, seeps into his veins, curls around his spine, wraps around his lungs and squeezes so he's gasping.
-
When Steve wakes up screaming Bucky's name again for the second time that night, he lies in bed for a few minutes, breathing thickly, with his hand pressed to his eyes, trying to ignore the wetness against his fingers.
After a while, his breathing evens out, and he slings his feet over the side of the bed, reaching for his water bottle.
Looks like another few hours in the gym.
Sighing, he makes his way quietly down the hall, and then turns down the path that takes him to the gym, but then puts his water bottle to his lips and realizes it's empty.
He shakes it, checking, and turns back, trying to remember where the heck the kitchen is.
He recognizes the glass elephant that is near the door- a glass elephant, honestly, but Pepper thinks it's nice- and walks inside, stopping when he sees that a light is already on.
It's not unusual- they all have weird sleeping habits. Hell, Thor is the only one of them who actually sleeps like a regular human being, but Bruce and Tony are usually in the workshop, and Clint and Natasha are usually in the gym.
He pads towards the light, and the flash of black hair floods him with a rush of fondness.
"Hey, Tony."
Tony jumps, almost spilling coffee down his front.
He spins. "Steve! Christ, make some noise when you walk!"
Steve smiles sheepishly. "Sorry. Are you working on something again?"
Tony takes a sip of his coffee, and then smacks his lips. "Not at the moment. Why?"
Steve gestures at the coffee. "You pull a lot of all-nighters when you're working on something. You should really sleep more."
"Says you." Tony takes another drag. "How many times have you been working out in the gym at this time of night this week?"
Steve shrugs. "A few."
"A few," Tony smirks. "Whatever you say, Steve."
Steve leans against the counter. "What time is it, anyway?"
Tony checks his watch. "3:34 A.M. My most productive time of day. Night. Whatever."
Steve nods. "Insomnia?"
"Sort of." Tony taps his fingers against the rim of the mug. "My brain won't shut up. One of the many downsides of being a genius. You?"
Steve shrugs. "Just insomnia. You know."
Tony watches him with something like knowing, and Steve shifts uneasily.
"Yeah," Tony says eventually. "Gotta hate it, right?"
"Right," Steve says, too relieved, and smiles gratefully at him.
Tony smiles back, maybe too wide, Steve remembers, then, the needy strain of his voice when Tony had said: "Like Steve, too. Lots and lots of like for Steeeeeve."
Needy isn't a word that's widely associated with Tony.
Tony Stark, with his effortless smile and effortless machines and effortless laugh like everything just comes naturally to him- how he stands, walks, drinks. How he walks into a room and takes everyone's gaze almost automatically, how he keeps the conversation moving in front of a camera and knows the right angles to be seen at.
Needy isn't a word that's associated with Tony Stark, because if you watch the news, or a talk show, or anything where Tony is on screen- hell, if you talk to him on the street- Tony doesn't seem to need anyone.
He can survive by himself- cracking jokes, pissing people off, having perfect hair and stubble and grin like it's second nature, because he's such a Stark, always has been, and the same with Iron Man-
Tony Stark gets treated differently. And it's stupid, but it's true.
Tony puts on the suit and flips the faceplate down, and he barks orders and pulls stupid shit and saves people, saves everyone even if he almost dies doing it, and he's still cocky and a bit of an ass but people respect him for it.
Steve sees more than people see on camera: the grease stains on his forehead. The burns on his fingers. The roughness of not having shaved for a few days. The heavy rings under his eyes.
See, Steve gets treated differently, too:
"A living legend," Fury had said, "That actually lives up to the legend."
Steve doesn't feel like a legend. He doesn't feel like an icon that magically came back from the dead. He doesn't feel like he's on calenders, and on the news, and has statues dedicated to him.
He doesn't feel like it, but apparently he is. A legend, that is. He still feels like the skinny kid from Brooklyn who got beat up a lot.
Steve Rogers still gets treated with respect, don't get him wrong- there are still salutes and thank-yous and handshakes, but Steve wishes that people could just draw the line sometimes, because he gets so, so tired of being Captain America 24/7.
Steve looks at Tony, and Tony looks back, and then they're just two tired guys in a kitchen who can't sleep.
"Want to go watch the rest of season 4 of Buffy?"
Tony smiles. "Sure."