No Hard Feelings, Honey
Tony hid away from everyone for the rest of the day, even Rhodey, despite his best efforts to talk to him. Tony could tell he was worried about him but he just wanted to be alone. Having the man who broke his heart and the man who broke his family staying in his home was enough to make anyone spiral and Tony was no exception. He hadn’t thought that it would be easy to see them, but he didn’t think it would be as hard as it was. He had almost two goddamn years to get over it, and yet here he was, locking himself in his workshop and drinking whatever bottles he’d stashed away in here before Rhodey cleared the tower of all alcohol.
He’d found an almost empty whiskey bottle and two shooters of vodka hidden underneath the couch in the far corner of the workshop, but he’d already made his way through them and was no where near done feeling sorry for himself. He needed more. Something to drown out the urge to go find Steve and let him hurt him some more. But he knew there was nothing on his floor, Rhodey had made sure of it. There was a chance that there was something on the common floor, FRIDAY had ordered whatever the others had requested before their return. But the idea of running into anyone, half drunk and tongue loose, made him pause. Was it worth it to risk it for the slight chance that there’d be some liquor in a kitchen cabinet somewhere? He decided that it was.
Stepping out of the elevator on the common floor, Tony breathed a sigh of relief that he couldn’t hear anyone, that was a good sign at least. It was dark and he left the lights off as he walked to the kitchen, only flipping the switch on once he was sure the floor was empty. With the lights on, he jumped when he saw Barnes sitting at the kitchen island, coffee in hand, staring directly at him. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me Barnes. Why are you sitting completely still in the dark?”
Barnes couldn’t hide his look of confusion. “Tony? What are you doin’ down here?” His eyes squinted at Tony who was standing with his hand clutched to his chest, eyes half-lidded. “Are you alright?”
“All good Snowflake, just came down to look for something.” He ignored the concerned look Barnes was giving him and turned to the cabinets, opening one after the other, looking for what he came for. After he’d looked through all of them, he closed his eyes, fists balled at his sides. “What the fuck, how did nobody think to ask FRIDAY for some booze?”
Barnes voice startled him, having forgotten that he wasn’t alone, “They did, FRIDAY told them there was no alcohol in the tower and that if they wanted to drink they’d have to do so elsewhere. Not sure why, but that’s what she said.”
“Fucking Rhodey,” Tony cursed under his breath at the information from Barnes. He leaned his head against the cabinet in front of him, feeling a bit like the world was closing in on him. He was nowhere near as drunk as he wanted to be. He raised an eyebrow at the mug in Barnes’ hand. “Coffee, huh? From what Rogers told me, you hate the stuff.”
Barnes looked almost as uncomfortable as Tony felt. “I do. I just- I- uh- was just-“
Tony cut him off before he could finish his thought. “Trying to keep yourself awake so you don’t have to fall back asleep and deal with the nightmares? I get it, been there.”
“Um, yeah.” He gave Tony a look of shock and wonder. “What’s got you awake at this hour?” He nodded his head towards the clock on the wall indicating that it was half past three in the morning.
The look Tony gave him was stony and cold. “Not that its any of your business but I was just doing some work in the shop and decided a drink would be nice right about now.” At the guilty look on the super soldiers face, Tony sighed. “Sorry, I just- never mind. I’m gonna head back down.” Against the warning in his head that was screaming at him to get away from Barnes, he continues, “If you uh- If you get stir crazy in here, you’re welcome to come down but be warned that I will put you to work.”
Barnes gave him an off look at that. “Um. Okay yeah.”
“Okay yeah?” Tony raised his eyebrows in question.
“Yeah I’ll come down to the workshop with you.” Barnes looked half suspicious, half desperate.
Tony couldn’t stop the string of fuck, what the fuck, why’d you even offer in his head at Barnes’ words. “Now?” He hoped Barnes was kidding.
Barnes looked hesitant, like he thought he’d heard the offer wrong or something. “Um yeah? Is that o-“
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Yeah come on snowflake.” Tony started walking towards the elevator without turning to see if Barnes was following. He couldn’t help but think that this was the absolute worst idea ever.
***
Down in the workshop, rock music playing quietly in the background, James was put to work handing Tony tools and holding up equipment when prompted as he worked on the Iron Man suit. He couldn’t tell what Stark was doing exactly, but he couldn’t help watching the man with interest as he worked. Stark was concentrated and only spoke when he needed James to do something, remaining silent otherwise. He would bite his bottom lip and squint his eyes as he worked, trying to figure out whatever kink he was fixing. Stark was rather handsome as he worked, clearly in his zone. James couldn’t help staring at his mouth whenever he bit his lip, feeling like he was on the brink of something he knew was a bad idea. Despite his initial nerves at being this close to the man whose parents he murdered, James found himself relaxing around Stark, letting his anxious thoughts float away as he focused on whatever Stark commanded of him. They went on like this for close to an hour, working in companionable silence, when James was asked to supply Stark with a hammer. He reached over to grab it, holding it out to Stark with the metal arm, who, without glancing up, grabbed the hammer from his hands, causing James to wince.
Stark raised an eyebrow at him. “Now I know this little hammer is not to heavy for you.”
James shrugged, “It’s the arm. It gets caught on the nerves sometimes. It doesn’t hurt too bad.” The truth was that it hurt most of the time, James just couldn’t hide his reaction when it pulled in especially harsh way, though he wouldn’t tell the man in front of him this.
Stark looks at him for a long time, making James squirm at the attention. Finally, Stark sighs and pulls the stool closest to him near with his foot and pats the seat, looking over at James. “Come on, Snowflake, let me have a look.”
Surprised, James stumbles over his words, “wha- a- at the arm?”
Stark gives him a look like he didn’t think James was quite this slow. “Yes, the arm.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s hurting you, isn’t it?”
“It’s not that bad Stark. You don’t have to do-“
He’s cut off when Stark blows air through his lips, seeming frustrated. “I know I don’t have to, but I'm offering so come here.” After a second without a response, Stark frowns, eyebrows furrowing, hesitant. “Unless you don’t want someone poking around in your arm. I’m sure you’ve had enough people doing that.”
James looks at Stark, eyes sparkling with wonder, thinking about how he can’t quite figure the man out. “Trust me Stark, you can’t do any worse to the arm than those assholes did.” He walks over and sits on the stool, one foot on the ground, the other resting on the bottom bar of the stool. He glances at the workbench next to him where there’s a pile of tools and pieces of armor. Tony follows his gaze, mumbles a quiet ‘oh’ before pushing it all to the side. “FRI, can you save my work and close the file for me.
James wants to ask questions about the work he was doing, but then Stark opens up the arm and starts working so he stays quiet, trying not to think about how this man has more reason than anyone to want to hurt him, the guy who took everything from him, who didn’t even apologize for all the damage he’d done.
After a few minutes, James nervously clears his throat. Stark doesn’t even glance up, continuing to analyze the arm. Mouth feeling like its full of cotton, James speaks. “I know I never said it before Stark, but I’m sorry. About your parents. I don’t even know how you can stand to have me here in your home, but I’m grateful for it. I should’ve said somethin’ sooner.”
Stark, still not looking up, chews on his lip not saying anything. James, feeling like bringing it up only made things worse, doesn’t say anything more. After a few minutes, Stark says, quietly than he’s ever heard him, “I know it wasn’t you.” James holds his breath, disagreeing with this point, but forgetting how to form the words to say so. The man in front of him continues, slightly louder, “I know it wasn’t you who killed- who did that. I know you weren’t exactly at the wheel. I don’t blame you. Anymore anyway. I shouldn’t have tried to kill you. That was wrong of me. You’ve gone through enough I think and you didn’t deserve that.”
James cuts in “No, I did. I did deserve that.” But Stark finally looks up at him, eyes sharp, silencing James.
“You didn’t. I was angry and I wasn’t thinking and that- that’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. I was angry at Steve, at what I had just seen, at everything and I took it out on you and I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? I don’t need you to apologize to me. Not after the things I’ve done- the things I did when no one was controlling my mind. Me and you, we’re good, okay? I- sometimes its hard to look at you, and it’ll take some time for me to get past that, but I don’t blame you. Let’s drop it, yeah?”
James opens his mouth, ready to argue, say that it doesn’t matter who was controlling him, it was his hands who killed Howard and Maria Stark. But Stark looks at him, eyes pleading to drop the topic and James says “Okay Stark.”
The shorter man smiles, just slightly, the corner of his mouth tilting up, and focuses his attention back on James’ arm. “And do me a favor, yeah? Can you call me Tony? I hate being called Stark, it makes me feel like I’m my father.”
James breathes out a laugh. “Do the others know this?”
“Yep.”
“They just call you Stark anyway?”
“Yep.”
James nods in understanding. “Okay, then you start callin’ me James.”
Stark- Tony looks up at him, eyebrows creased in confusion. “James? Not Bucky?”
“Yeah, I don’t like it. Bucky. Makes me feel like I’m someone I’m not. Not anymore at least.”
Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Do the others know this?”
“Yeah, I’ve told ‘em a couple times.”
“And they just call you Bucky anyway?” Tony’s eyebrows are still raised in amusement.
“Yep.”
Tony, straightening up and gathering some tools, says “Okay then James, I don’t think I can fix the problem with the arm without taking it off and making you a new one, which will take me a few weeks, but for now, I’m going to tighten these wires here so that hopefully it’s not pulling on your shoulder as often.”
James widens his eyes at Tony’s words, “A new arm? Tony, you’re not going to ma-“
Same as before, Tony rolls his eyes at him. “Yeah I am. Don’t argue about it. I like doing this kind of thing.”
James stares at him for a while, watching him search for the right tools to tighten the wires, feeling his heart do something funny in his chest. “Thank you, Tony. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”
Tony waves him off. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t sweat it. So, have you given any thought on the whole Avengers business yet?”
James sighs and runs his hand over his face. “Yeah, I uh- I’ve given it a lot of thought. I’m not- I’m gonna say no. I don’t deserve to be a part of something like that. To be a part of the ‘heroes’, not after all the damage I’ve done. It’s best I just stay away from the fight before I hurt someone else.”
Tony nods, looking him in the eyes, scrutinizing eye contact. “I understand.” James wants to know what he really thinks. He says just this allowed and Tony chuckles, taken aback by James’ ability to read him so well when they hardly know each other. “Okay, yeah if you want the honest opinion of a man who probably never gives good advice, you got it. I don’t think deserving it has anything to do with it, James. None of us deserve to be considered heroes, most of us don’t even think of ourselves that way. Every single one of us has done bad things that we regret and this is the only way we can think of to do some good, or at least that’s the case for yours truly.
“The truth is that its not really about us. I get it, how you’re feeling, you’re feeling like you only cause harm and its better for everyone if you just stay out of it. But in my experience, that only makes things worse. The guilt festers, the people continue to hurt, and no one is better off for it. I don’t know how much you know about what happened to me, but I was attacked with a weapon that I created. I never meant for it to fall into the wrong hands, but that’s no excuse. I created weapons and made billions off of the destruction. When I got back, I vowed to make things right, to reverse all the damage I’d done and ease my guilty conscience. But those were all the wrong reasons. I can’t reverse anything; the damage I’d done was done and it shouldn’t have been about easing my conscience. I deserve to feel guilty for what I did. I started to realize this and just help those that I can, make some lives better. It’s the least I can do. And it may not always make me feel better, but if it makes even one person out there feel safer knowing we’re out there, then that’s enough for me to keep going.”
Tony shuts the plate on James’ arm and laughs, dry and joyless. “Listen, I don’t know how much of that made sense, I just- my point is, if you’re reason for turning it down is to settle down and live the rest of your life in peace because that’s what you want, then that’s great, wonderful even. Do that. But if you turn it down because you think you don’t deserve it, just know that it’s not like that. We just want to do some good for once, and if you want to be a part of that, by all means, the more the merrier.” James stares at Tony, a feeling in his gut that he doesn’t want to acknowledge just yet. Contemplating everything Tony said, he’s a little startled when Tony speaks again, sounding tired. “How does it feel? Any better?”
James furrows his brows in confusion. It takes him a second to realize Tony’s asking about the arm. He rolls his shoulders back, flexes his hand. He can still feel the tug on the nerves, but when he closes his fist - a move that typically results in a painful tug at his shoulder - he feels okay. “Yeah, much better, Tony, thanks.” Tony smiles, just a small proud tilt of his lips.
“Well, Snowflake. I’m actually feeling like I could crash now, a miracle at this early hour of-“ He looks at his watch “three in the morning. So you can hang down here if you want, but Hill will be here early I’m sure so maybe you oughta get some sleep too.”
James rises from the stool at the same time at Tony, with of them standing much closer than intended. He coughs and takes a step to the side, giving Tony some space. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. You’ve given me a lot to think over. Thank you again, Tony. I’ll see you in the morning.” He smiles at Tony and makes his way out of the workshop and back to Steve’s floor.