Don’t Try To Push Your Luck
Tony couldn’t tell if he was stuck in his lab or he just hadn’t left by choice. Most of the time, it was by choice. But this time he could’ve sworn he tried to open the door and leave. Bruce had left earlier, so it was possible he had accidentally locked Tony inside in his exhaustion. Not that the inventor minded, he preferred to be in his lab.
He did.
Really, he did. Some people didn’t, some people would much rather sit around with the Avengers watching the stupidest movies in the world over and over again just to make fun of them. Just to get yelled at by Steve to “be more respectful” towards the creators of said movies. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to be around the Avengers, not right now. Not ever again.
…Shut up.
Okay, so maybe he preferred to be with someone in his lab. Could you blame him? He’d gotten so used to it, with Bruce rarely ever leaving his side, unless they were at a party. Then, Bruce would sneak away while Tony made a scene to distract everyone from Bruce leaving.
And then - just when he was getting used to being lonely again - Peter came along. That kid was even more genius than him. (Though, he’d never admit that…to the other Avengers.) So, sue him if he wants some company. He didn’t even have Pepper and Rhodey anymore. Pepper’s leave was classified, and if you asked Tony about it, he’d give you a bit of his trademarked sass and then walk away. Rhodey, well, he came around. Sure.
And Tony loved it when he did, it’s just that he didn’t come to the tower as often as Tony would like him to. That’s all. Actually, he hadn’t seen Rhodey since the Rogues moved in. Which checked out considering they were part of the reason he was paralyzed.
A live feed of the other Avengers in their respective rooms and some in the communal area popped up. Tony flinched at the hologram, raising an eyebrow at the ceiling - at FRIDAY - in question. When she didn’t say anything, either preferring to stay silent or remembering that Tony muted her even though he didn’t. Tony might’ve been going insane. Oh well.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, which was why Tony was so perplexed at the fact that FRIDAY brought the screen scarily close to him with no instruction. Steve and Sam were playing backgammon, Natasha, Bruce, Scott and Clint were watching a movie (Tony thinks it was Brave but he wasn’t sure), Wanda was sitting with Vision, and Peter and Barnes were playing Mario Kart. So, really, nothing-
Hold on. Peter and Barnes were doing what? Tony nearly got whiplash from how fast he looked back at the little rectangle that showed his kid and the guy who killed his parents laughing and talking together.
“FRIDAY, blow up the camera on Barnes and the kid.” Tony mumbled, watching as the quality became clearer. As did the fact that Barnes was actually smiling. Like, a real smile. Since when could he do that? And since when was he hanging out with Peter?
Didn’t Peter know that he was dangerous? Hadn’t Tony been clear enough in his warnings to not interact with the Rogues? Especially not one-on-one until they proved they could be trusted again. Peter didn’t look like he was scared, or being held against his will. He looked happy too.
Tony muttered something under his breath that he’s not exactly proud of, and FRIDAY took the feed away. From what he’d seen, there wasn’t exactly a reason to rush down there in full Iron Man armor, yelling at Barnes for hurting his kid. But since when did the Tony Stark listen to reason?
Now, look, he didn’t actually show up in full Iron Man armor, knowing that Peter would probably yell at him if he did. And knowing that he could call the rest of the suit to his body whenever he wanted. He only took his right hand thruster, just to be safe. FRIDAY stayed silent but Tony could practically feel her disappointment as he adjusted the glove.
As he was walking towards the metal doors, FRIDAY showed him the screen again. Barnes was getting into the elevator, waving goodbye to Peter, who looked somewhat upset that the older man was leaving. Nevertheless, Tony continued on his way up to floor 93, taking his private elevator so that he didn’t have to be stuck with Barnes.
“Hey, Mr. Stark!” Peter called out, flipping through the channels on the TV while Tony walked into the room. Everything was perfectly put away, no trace of Barnes was left in the living room. Tony did appreciate the fact that Peter was most likely trying not to upset him, however, he was having trouble accepting that Peter wasn’t immediately coming clean about Barnes being here.
Perhaps it was his fault, he’d been too forward with the kid. He’s only known him four months, and he’s been living with him for half of one. Was that too fast for the kid? Maybe, perchance, he didn’t tell Tony about it because he didn’t feel comfortable sharing. Tony’d probably kill himself if he drove the kid away, one of the only good things in his life.
Maybe the only good thing if Bruce and Rhodey kept leaving.
He didn’t blame the two for wanting time away from him, nor did he blame Peter for being so distant. The kid had recently lost his aunt, and that took a lot out of him. So, Tony had tried to step up and be better than his father. But maybe that isn’t what Peter wanted, maybe it isn’t what he needed. Oh fucking hell, is Peter going to start hating him too?
Tony couldn’t deal with that. He’d die before he let that kid be mad at him. What if he already was? God dammit! Tony’s mind was a damn prison, one that he’s been trying to escape since he was 4 and has kept him trapped like Alcatraz.
“Uh… Mr. Stark? What’s with the glove?” Peter - his kid, his light, his reason - asked, pointing to the man's right hand that was covered by red and gold.
“Oh! Nothing, nothing. Just.. testing it out. Mark 47, y’know?” Tony lied. This glove was Mark 45, and he knew that Peter knew that. Mark 46 was…out of order. Not available for use. Too traumatic dangerous to ever wear again. It was locked up beneath the surface of his workshop.
Peter didn’t buy it, and Tony could tell. But neither said a thing about it. They both just let it roll away, relaxing into each other when Tony plopped himself down on the sofa. Peter, the sweetest kid that he didn’t deserve, snuggled closer to him, leaving the TV on a news channel that was known for the slander it would put out into the world about the Avengers.
For some reason, Peter kept putting it on. Tony thought it might be because the young hero agrees with all that they say about Iron Man. And the playboy underneath the mask. Pepper - oh, don’t go there - had told him again and again that Peter thought of him as the greatest hero in the multiverse. Obviously, that was a lie. Like when she told him she’d stick by his side forever.
We’re definitely not going there motherfucker, Tony thought to himself, wrapping his left arm around Peter. The less dangerous one, the injured one. The one that Peter wasn’t staring intensely at while also listening to J. Jonah Jameson ramble on about how Spider-Man was a menace to society.
It appalled him how well his son this kid could multitask. He could be ranting on and on about Star Wars while also doing his math homework while also working on his suit while also helping Tony with a new design for the Iron Man suit. Peter was a wonderkid, that was for sure. And Tony, well, he was just lucky to have him.
Many would say that Peter was living the dream, being around Tony Stark all the time. Knowing the genius personally. But, Tony knew it was the other way around. He’d learned more from this kid than his father. Peter would never admit to being the genius that he was.
He skewed from Tony in that way. Instead of leaning into the fact that he was smarter than everyone, he shied away, preferring to tell himself the answers over and over again while his peers got it incorrect. In that way, and many others, Peter was better than Tony. He was less egotistical, less narcissistic.
Mr. Stark displays compulsive behavior and textbook narcissism.
Natalia Alianova Romanova, always has to be right. Always has to win. It’s annoying. Especially because Tony hates losing, hates being wrong.
Maybe if his brain would shut the fuck up he could be better at being around others.
Oh come on, more excuses?
Shut up, for once, yeah?
Start taking responsibility, for once, yeah?
This is why Howard-
You wanna start on Howard?
Tony’s whole self hurt. The voices went back and forth and back and forth. Yelling about topics that grabbed at his heart, pulling it in every which way and not caring if it was ripped apart in the process.
A voice, a calmer one, a nicer one, sounded in his ear. It whispered, Tony didn’t know what it was saying. Didn’t know where it was coming from, but the tenseness in his shoulders vanished. The breath he didn’t know he was holding was released. It was a strange feeling, relaxation. Almost alien to Tony, he didn’t know how to react to it.
“You should rest, Mr. Stark.” Peter reprimanded. The voice was his, because of course it was. Who else could calm Tony down with their voice? Steve No one. Not a soul except Peter.
“Hm? Oh, I’ll be a-okay kid, don’t worry about me.” Tony reassured him, flashing a press smile at the young boy. He missed the days he didn’t have to do that, those few days of bliss after the fight when no one dared approach him. He could be pissed and mopey all he wanted and no one would bat an eye.
Now, especially since the Rogues were back, he knew that he had to go back to being witty, sarcastic, smiley, narcissistic Tony “Iron Man” Stark. He didn’t like that side of him, didn’t want others to like that side of him. The only people who did were the press that used it against him in their articles and news reports.
He was the only Avenger to ever deal with this stuff. The others weren’t press trained, they didn’t know how to react accordingly to certain situations. Rogers had been on TV before, sure, but he’d rarely ever been interviewed with questions tougher than ‘How does it feel to be Earth’s hero?’
Tony dealt with the backhands. Every snide remark, spitting insult, horrid rumor, Tony made sure to get it out of sight of whomever it affected. Like when Rogers helped Natashalie out of a ditch, carrying her bridal-style in order to avoid her injuries, the rumor sprouted that they were more than teammates. Not that anybody other than Tony, Pepper, and Bruce knew that. Because that’s what Tony did. He had JARVIS - and now FRIDAY - notify him whenever their names popped up in a negative setting so he could call a meeting with the person who wrote or said it, convincing them to discredit their work and say something nice next time.
The team didn’t know that. They figured he was taking on the burden of the press because he knew better than them. And he did. Obviously, if he said that aloud they’d think he was talking about in general. But Tony knew how awful he was as a friend - a brother - , knew how terrible his fighting skills were, and he knew that if he were handed a bow and arrow, he wouldn’t know what to do.
For that, Tony appreciates that he’s never had the stupidity to do so.
He looked down at the boy who was curled up in a way that Tony couldn’t see his face. Just the curls that lay atop his head. He hears a soft chuckle, the sound vibrating through the teenager. And suddenly, he’s reminded of why he came up here in the first place.
“What was Barnes doing up here?” Tony whispered, the words feeling like an inside thought, but said aloud. Peter doesn’t react or, at least, Tony doesn’t see a reaction occur.
“He was gonna jump off the roof,” Peter said, as if talking about the weather, “I had to stop ‘im.” Tony nearly choked on his own spit. The casual way that Peter talked about Barnes almost taking his own life terrified Tony to his core. How many times had Peter dealt with something like that out as Spider-Man? Or even as Peter Parker? Had he had to stop himself from doing the same before?
“Oh.” Tony said, because what the hell do you say to that?
“He’s okay, now. He took a nap and we talked after he woke up.”
“Yeah? What’d he say?”
A pause. The kid’s shoulders didn’t tense, and he didn’t seem upset. Peter pushed off of Tony, and as JJJ kept talking shit about Spider-Man, he locked eyes with the older man. There was a sense of empathy within them, of knowing, and that made Tony sick.
“He said he felt bad,” deep breaths, “for hurting you.”
A sharp inhale sounded from somewhere and it took a moment for Tony to realize it came from him. Barnes felt bad? Tony destroyed his arm and Barnes felt bad? Maybe Tony was just a textbook narcissist with compulsive behavior.
“And for taking Steve away, and for hurting Sam’s feelings, and for taking Natasha away as well. He also said that he knows.” Tony raised an eyebrow at that. “He didn’t tell me exactly what he knows about, but he said ‘I know about Tony ‘nd Stevie’ and then changed the subject.”
Tony flushed bright red. He knew what Barnes was implying, but he couldn't tell if he was okay with it or angry about it. It wasn’t true, what he was saying. However, if others thought it was… there could be bad repercussions for the entire team. So Tony would just have to make sure that didn’t happen.
Should he talk to Barnes or ask the kid to take a message? Maybe it would be best if he did this face-to-face. Would feel more personal. That’s what they needed. Personal. To know that Tony was just as human as the rest of them. Able to face them if need be.
“I’m gonna go downstairs for a bit.” Peter’s mouth opened, most likely to tell him no, but Tony beat him to it. “Not the lab, promise. I…I’m gonna talk to Bucky.”
“Bucky?”
“Barnes.”
--------------------------
Tony made his way down to the common area, knowing Bucky - gods, Barnes - was probably there with the rest of them. When the elevator opened, Sam, Scott, Steve, Natasha, and Bruce looked over at him. No sign of Barnes, though.
Okay, he could do this. Just ask where Barnes is. It’s not that hard. He would be fine… if he stopped just standing there, letting them stare at him.
“Um…has anyone seen Barnes? I, uh, I need to - well - I need to talk to him.” Tony stuttered out, rubbing his left wrist so hard he thought he would bruise it. For a long while, no one answered him. They all just stared, some with their mouths open more than others. Steve’s mouth twitched into an almost smile, while Sam had an eyebrow raised, as if protecting the man that wasn’t even in the room.
“No. But I have to talk to you.” Natashalie said, boring her eyes into Tony’s. Shit. Okay, that was fine too. He could talk to his sister teammate without wanting to shoot his brains out. That would be fine. Would it? It would. Gods, Tony hated his thoughts. Why did humans have thoughts? Huh. That’d be a fun weekend project for him and Bruce.
Tony nodded, a tight-lipped smile spread across his face. Not quite reaching his eyes, but almost. She stood, walking past him into the kitchen that he had put far enough away for them to whisper without being heard. Turning on his heel, the Avenger followed Natasha into the room.
His deep breathing exercises weren’t helping either.
In, 1 2 3. Hold, 1 2 3. Out, 1 2 3. In, 1 2 3. Hold, 1 2 3. Out, 1 2 3.
And yet the racing of his heart didn’t slow. Nor did the stressful thoughts running wild through his brain. This was fine. Natasha wouldn’t hurt him again. She wouldn’t, and he knew that. Still, he couldn’t shake the fact that if she did, none of the people in the living room would choose his side. If any of the Rogues, at any point, attacked him, he’d be dead before the fight reached its climax. Rogers would get the rest of them to rally together against him.
He couldn’t even take Cap and Barnes by himself, much less Falcon, Ant-Man, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Scarlet Witch (the name that the press had given to Wanda after Ultron, which then resulted in her smiling and winking at the other Avengers when they asked her how she felt.)
Natasha had reason to hurt him, maybe kill him, he had been so terrible to her. The snarky comment about her being a double agent was something he had immediately regretted, wishing he was smart enough to figure out time travel (*wink wink*) so that he could fix his mistake.
The two teammates stared at one another for a good minute or two before finally, they both took a deep breath and spoke.
“I’m sorry.” They said, in unison. After a brief pause, the two burst into laughter, wrapping their arms around each other. All their problems seemed to disappear into the joy of the moment.