Freedom is Sweet

It’s a test of patience. Testing his progress. At least that’s how Tony is choosing to view this circus he’s once against stuck in. Hope and Rhodey are the ring leaders this time, Rogers and Barnes are the clowns and Tony is the prize tiger they’re all here to gawk at. Pepper managed to avoid this particular meeting with the newly pardoned Rogues, and while Tony is infinitely jealous of the peace of mind she must be enjoying at the moment, he is glad that it’s not her that has to listen to this.

“This is about unity, Madame Hope. Without unity we are nothing! Only as a team can we truly protect this world and the people who depend on us.”

“People like in Romania,” Tony quips, leveling a gaze at the captain who is leaning heavily on the conference table. His best buddy Barnes is sitting nonchalantly in the chair behind his captain, oh captain, shrugging with his one intact shoulder.

“Hey, unity is important. Look how far it got us.” He gestures towards himself and Rogers, and that self assured smirk on his face does a lot to ease Tony’s guilt at seeing the stump where the metal arm once sat. He’s gone through that fight so often, again and again, chastising himself for how he lost his cool. He is aware that it was a natural reaction, courtesy of his therapist, a brilliant woman. He is also aware that Rogers did nothing to snap him out of it the way he did for Bucky Barnes, courtesy of many many late night talks with Rhodey. He knows all that. Has gone it over in his mind again and again. He knows the moves of that fight like choreography, that’s how often he’s replayed the recordings, Friday’s analysis. Still. He’s done damage. He knows the schematics of that arm inside out by now, having dug up the file on Barnes during Natasha’s little stunt at Shield. There was little care taken to ease the pain for the wearer of the arm. Tony has caused damage, he’s inflicted pain, and the reminders that this is something he can’t do anything about are almost as infuriating as the meetings that reminder keeps coming to.

“We were always better as a team than we were alone,” the instigator of those meetings continues, and Tony tries to zone back into the room. 

As fruitless as these meetings are, they all have appearances to keep up. Rhodey and Hope that they would ever consider letting Rogers back into the Avengers, and Rogers that he’s listening to them. Tony is just there because Rogers requests it each time, hoping somehow that it might be easier to win him over than the two heads of the Avengers. Tony can’t decide what’s funnier; that Rogers can’t get it through his thick skull that Tony really isn’t the one pulling the strings behind the New Avengers, now a legitimate organization with Hope and Rodey in the lead, or that he thinks that after beating him almost to death and then abandoning him in a dead suit in Siberia would be something that Tony would forget.

Maybe, a few years ago, he would have. He’d have forgiven and forgotten, listened to this spiel about unity and teamwork and family and caved. Craved and caved, thinking that this was all there was. He’d been so stupid.

“You may have noticed, Mister Rogers, but we are not alone. We have a team, and if you wish to enter, you are welcome to apply through the official channels so that we can vet you and your associates and decide whether your abilities would be an asset for the New Avengers.” 

Tony considers whether it’s inappropriate to express his adoration for Hope van Dyne out loud. He can taste the tension crackle in the room, and tries not to look too pleased from where he is sitting. Barnes still spots the uptick of his lips and bristles with anger.

“Of course Steve’s abilities would be an asset, he’s Captain America. You’re all lucky he’s even still dealing with all of your bullshit!” 

“Bucky–”

“No, I’m sick of listening to this shit. You’re a good man, you’ve protected us and guided us, guided me, for as long as we’ve been alive, which is a hell of a long time at this point. You’re all just assholes that are so blinded by your hatred for him that you can’t see it.”

"Sergeant Barnes, if you’re not able to have a proper conversation I’ll invite you to find the door to your left,” Rhodey grinds out through his teeth in an effort to remain calm. Barnes twitches at the mention of his rank, something that might have been a flinch in someone less controlled than the bloody Winter Soldier, but he ignores it, instead jumping up and storming out of the conference room. 

Tony follows him with his eyes, watching the man stomp out of the room and slam the door so that it shakes in it’s frame. Rogers is doing the same, a soft and slightly pained look in his eyes, a man watching his fiercest defender get carted away like a mad dog. With a heavy sigh that is meant to make someone feel guilty about dismissing Barnes he turns back to his audience of Rhodey, Hope and Tony. What kind of sympathy he hopes to garner here is entirely unknown to Tony.

“I understand if Bucky makes you hesitant, Tony,” he continues, looking right at Tony, who freezes. Oh no, not this. Tony takes a deep breath. A test of progress. To see how much he’s been doing his therapy exercises. “It must be difficult to see him doing so much better.” Than you. The unsaid words ring loud and clear and Tony folds his hands over his knee so he won’t ball them into fists. “But he’s a good person. What he is now is so much more important than anything that came before.”

Tony draws a deep silent breath. He can feel Hope’s and Rhodey’s eyes on him, can feel them gauging his reaction. Rogers may have Barnes, but Hope was right. Tony is no longer alone, he has a whole team, a family of people who are as willing to defend him as he is to step up for them. Tony unclenches his jaw and considers his options. He can feel Rhodey almost itch to tear Rogers a new one, Hope his second in command in that effort. But it’s been going well so far. Rogers has made some concessions, realized that a group of untrained spies and assassins might not be as attractive a sell as he thought. 

The pain of the memory Rogers dregged up is still bright in his chest, thinking of his mother’s last words, of the Winter Soldier’s gaze into the camera after killing her. Barnes’ audacity, coming to every one of these meetings Tony also has to attend, grinning and basking in the praise and glow of Captain America. But this is not worth it. Tony gets up.

“If you will excuse me, I’m going to go to the bathroom. Please continue without me, I’m sure I can catch up on a few minutes of missed circular arguing.” And he walks out before anyone can say anything.

Only when the door is closed behind him does he let the mask drop. He presses the ball of his hand to his eye, the pressure doing nothing to alleviate the stinging headache there. Fucking Rogers. Sometimes Tony curses those damn pardons. He is in favor of them, due justice, second chances and all that, but sometimes, every time Steve looks at him and hits him in one of his many sore spots like he doesn’t know what he’s doing to Tony, he wishes they had never happened.

Tony rounds the corner, considering whether to actually go to the bathroom and come back or just run, leaving Rogers to Rhodey and Hope. His hand still pressed into his eye, his head and heart pounding in pain he almost runs into Barnes who is standing in the middle of the hallway.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there, Sergeant,” Tony mumbles, readying himself for a snarky reply, maybe a blocked way. But Barnes just stands there, slightly shifted from the impact, but otherwise unmoving.

“Barnes?” Tony drops his hand and looks at the other man. There is no response. Barnes stands in the hallway, staring blankly through a wall. Other than his miniscule tilt in the direction that Tony buffeted him in.

"Sergeant Barnes? Are you okay?” Tony steps up to Barnes, looking at him more closely. At first he is struck again with just how handsome the man is, frustratingly so. When the Rogues reappeared on the surface of the earth, Barnes had already been back to his old forties charm, his hair cropped short and clean shaven. The first time Tony had seen a picture of them he’d looked like he walked straight out of the Smithsonian. 

But now looking closer, Tony spots some ugly marks on the perfect facade. Whatever force of personality he might normally possess - a rather annoying personality that consisting of adoring his captain and not much else from what Tony has seen - it’s gone now, leaving the hollowed out shell of a man behind. He somehow manages to look gaunt, and Tony wonders whether that was due to the botched up version of the super soldier serum he received, or whether he isn’t eating. Tony would have leant towards the former if it wasn’t for the pronounced hollow circles beneath Barnes’ eyes, only barely disguised by makeup.

Since the man isn’t responding to Tony’s words or his scrutiny, he decides to push his luck. Or rather, in this case, Barnes. It’s like pushing against a tree, Barnes leans with the push but simply returns to his empty stance. Nothing. It’s like he’s unconscious, eyes wide open and body still standing. A shudder runs down Tony’s spine. He has no idea what to do with this. Barnes is breathing. He blinks. Tony punches him in his good shoulder. Nothing. What the hell?

The door to the conference room opens behind Tony and he watches the life return to Barnes’ face. He steps back quickly, swiveling around as if he just came back from the bathroom. He hears Barnes take a sudden shuddering breath, cough a little and take a step, all quiet sounds that he only picks up because he is waiting for them. Then it’s suddenly silent behind him, and Tony realizes that he didn’t turn his back on Bucky Barnes but on the Winter Soldier.

“Bucky, there you are! Come on, the meeting is over, although they stonewalled us– oh.” Rogers comes around the corner, spotting Tony.

“Rogers,” Tony nods, pushing past the wall of a chest and fleeing back into the conference room. What the hell was that? What is up with Barnes?

“Ah Tony, you missed the encore,” Rhodey welcomes him back.

Tony scoffs and gathers up his suit jacket and sunglasses that he’d tossed onto the table at the start of the meeting as some kind of rhetorical gesture. “Don’t worry, I ran into your encore. Gathered up his bestie and left.”

Hope sighed. “Good. This was a waste of time. I have met my share of stubborn men, but this guy puts them all to shame.”

“Yeah, it’s fun all around, every time.” Tony stretches and turns to Rhodey. “Well, it’s over for now. Who’s up for pizza.”

“Back at the compound?”

“Of course, Honey Bear, where else? Nowhere better to eat good food and talk shit than the comfort of our home.”

“I wouldn’t mind never talking about Steve Rogers for at least a week,” Hope groans as they step into the elevator.

“No such luck, I fear,” Tony sighs. He knows this meeting isn’t going to leave his mind unless he makes it, already making a list of files he needs to check and things he needs to look into in the back of his mind. He can’t get himself to think about those empty eyes. The hollow face. Something is wrong.