PART 1:

T o n y

Tony Stark was alone in his lab.

This, in itself, was not unusual. Apart from his robots, his lab was usually empty. Before – and Tony had heavy emphasis on ‘before’ – Bruce would hole up in a space in the corner working on something Tony dismissed as not having enough building (but the explosions were a nice extra). Now, in the ‘after’, the lab had been the source of Tony’s solace and comfort, but also of isolation. In the year that Pepper packed her bags and went away, no one was there to draw him out.

The unusual aspect of Tony Stark being alone in his lab was that he wasn’t doing anything. He wasn’t even talking to DUM-E or whacking something with a hammer just for fun. For the past half an hour he had sat on his chair staring at a hologram of the Spider suit he’d made for Peter Parker when he would inevitably say ‘yes’ to joining the Avengers.

Except Peter Parker had done the unexpected thing, and now Tony was staring at the hologram thinking it would be much better if this kid – in all his Bambi-eyed, awe-filled wonder – had accepted, because it would mean he would not have to deal with the returning Avengers after ten months of being alone. He should feel bad, really, at this contemplation; he’d used the kid for Germany, and now he wanted to use him as a buffer between people he still had an unnerving amount of anger towards. (Well, one specifically).

It was a good thing he was alone because the fact Tony was so angry was shameful in itself. Ten months ago, he had been so adamant, so convinced he’d done the right thing. Tony had stupidly decided to sign the Accords without second thought. The only thoughts swimming around his brain were: he was alone, that woman had lost a child, and he was still not over Ultron. He had also really wanted a drink.

Perhaps, in a different context, where Pepper had still been in his life, and he had actually thought about perspective when the woman had talked to him, and if he hadn’t created Ultron in the first place, he would have agreed with Steve. Maybe they would have talked it out, deciding to throw back a different offer. But that didn’t happen.

All in all, it had been messy. Very, very messy. It was only when Ross had been demoted after the havoc caused by Leipzig, and the fact that the Raft was inhumane to those who hadn’t actually done anything, that anything was straightened out. The Accords had been scrapped, wiped clean for a new policy that the U.N. were trying to figure out after it turned out that Bucky Barnes was completely innocent (in the blowing up of a tower and murder of T’Challa’s father). So, after many phone calls that caused major headaches, the Rogues had agreed to come back. Tony wasn’t doing too well about this fact. He understood, really, that it was The Winter Soldier who had killed his parents. He’d seen the look in Barnes’ eyes in that cold bunker in Siberia. At the time, whilst Tony was busy trying to squeeze Barnes’ head off, he’d only listened to what he had said (“Do you even remember them?” “I remember all of them.”), not the way he had said them. This did not change much. He still had a hard time detaching a brain-washed assassin to the man who was trying to leave it behind him. Worse, he had never wanted to see Steve Rogers again if he could help it. That had hurt the most – not just the shield to his chest – but the complete disregard for the friendship they’d created. And yet, hadn’t Tony created that himself? He’d immediately agreed to sign the Accords without properly thinking about the repercussions of anyone else. Ross had put them in the Raft as a consequence, and Tony knew, logically, that that damn Austrian – or German – or whatever – man in the bunker had been trying to provoke him. And he’d allowed it. He’d created the rift – and yes, Rogers should never have lied (for this was something Tony was not going to forgive) – but Tony had driven the wedge in first.

So now, he sat alone in his lab thinking that, in a week’s time, the people he’d considered friends – apart from Bucky Barnes, fresh and brain-wash free from the Wakandan hospital – were coming back into his life. The agreement of return, straight from the U.N. and not agreed with Tony, was that Barnes was to remain within the tower for six months in order to see his good behaviour, unless with express permission to leave from varying high-up authority members. Scott Lang and Clint were already back; when the Rogues had escaped, Tony had still managed to get the two under house arrest due to them being fathers. Luckily, they hadn’t been hard to find after Tony had made the arrangements: Clint had taken Lang to his farm. That was the easier part to find out because it took three weeks to even get a call through, as Clint had refused to take Tony’s calls. He did, however, answer to his lawyers. Unfortunately, this meant that Tony had yet to actually speak to Clint to … he wasn’t quite sure. Apologise? Perhaps. Mostly, he just wanted Clint’s snarky remarks of how annoying he was. At least then it would have a sense of normality within the confines of the Tower.

But Clint wasn’t coming to the Tower, and neither was Lang, who had apparently hopped it back to San Francisco as soon as the lawyers called. Tony wasn’t as worried about Lang; he’d barely said two words to the guy. He’d spent more time knocking him over as a fifty-foot giant than sparing a thought about who he was.

Natasha, with her uncanny ability to pop up whenever necessary yet disappear when needed, was returning. Tony still felt a twinge of sadness when thinking about Nat. She’d made what she believed the right choice was (which it was) and had betrayed Tony whilst doing so. He’d liked Natasha, believed them close. But she was also close to Steve.

Steve.

The man who’d been resented by Tony even before he’d met the guy. The years of Howard barking on about the Almighty Captain America. When Tony was a kid, he’d wanted to be Captain America, to make his dad like him. Later, when he’d tried absolutely everything, Tony began to despise anything to do with him. Especially when Howard was murdered.

They’d become friends, though, even after their little tête-à-têtes and arguments about what to do. With Steve’s staunch opinion that Howard Stark was a great man because … well, what did he do? Gave the man superpowers. What did he do for Tony? Other than get him born? Not that it mattered anymore. Howard was dead.

And Steve was coming here.

Into his Tower, into his home. He’d kept the Tower after the entire plane fiasco, which had caused Happy to nearly have another heart attack (the first being seeing the plane crash), and Pepper seemed to prefer the Tower to the Compound anyway. The Compound seemed like it was mocking Tony every time he entered, remembering who had been there in the echoing halls. They’d been in the Tower, too, but at a less personal level. A more, destructive level where his penthouse got partially destroyed.

In the back of his mind, it was also so that he was not too far away from a web-slinging vigilante who had single-handedly brought down someone who had been working under the radar for eight years. But his mind was able to dismiss that thought quite quickly.

Tony had a lot to think about when it came to the Parkers.

The last he’d heard from May Parker was her giving him the bollocking of a lifetime because she’d found out about Peter’s night-time habits. She had, apparently, walked in on him in his suit, and then figured out the entire thing just by looking at the kid’s face. Tony could understand that; that kid was an open book when he was caught in headlights.

It turned out, as Tony allowed himself to be yelled at – because he knew he’d made a mistake with everything and decided that, for once in his life, he would accept the argument that maybe he was a piece of shit – that May Parker was most angry at him for ignoring Peter the entire time he was back from Germany. It was hard to hear everything he’d thought about be shouted into his face – or, through the phone – but Tony had, remarkably, stayed quiet.

When she’d finally finished threatening his balls off, Tony had apologised in a way that he didn’t have to say the word ‘sorry’ (which May Parker definitely caught and was irritated with if her snappish tone was anything to go by) and state that Peter could come to the Tower any time for assistance.

May Parker had told him to fuck off before the phone – from what Tony could gather – had been taken off her, and Peter had said thank-you. Tony had been surprised to hear from the kid; he had sent him a voicemail informing him of May finding out (before May took over and threatened his balls off) but hadn’t said anything since. The thank-you he’d produced had sounded a little more subdued than usual; perhaps the fact his aunt just told Iron Man to fuck off. Before he could be made aware as to why the kid seemed off, Peter had hung up on him.

On him. Tony Stark.

The only other time the kid had done so – amongst their very limited amount of phone calls – was when he was about to tear the Staten Island Ferry in half. It meant that Tony had half a mind to summon his suit and blast off to Queens before Pepper had stated, quite clearly, that he was being an idiot.

So, he decided to keep his distance. He’d fucked up with the kid in more ways than one – he took a fourteen-year-old to Germany to fight Captain America, without considering any consequences. He’d yelled at the kid at just about every opportunity, taken away his suit, and ignored the fact the kid had been onto something until it was too late. Tony kept insisting that Parker had ‘screwed the pooch’, when, in reality, his own state of mind had screwed the events much more than Peter had. Yes, Peter was young and naïve, and had made foolish errors. But Tony had used his fucked-up state to use him, and then abandoned him. Because Tony had been preoccupied with thinking about Siberia, Steve, his parents, and the fact he was beaten to shit.

And then, when he’d felt guilty enough to call after the first argument – considering the kid had nearly died in a fucking lake – he’d ruined it further by taking away his suit. Tony had gone home with Peter’s face haunting his eyes for hours as he stared at the suit in the corner of the lab. He’d also thought about how much Tony was like his father.

He hadn’t really considered what Parker would do; hadn’t thought he would continue being Spider-Man just because Tony had taken away his new tech suit. For Peter had been doing it for six months by himself before Tony had even arrived. He didn’t need Tony at all. He’d been doing fine without him before, albeit having to dumpster dive, and then had made a good detective by sussing out and entire villain without Tony knowing. Because Tony didn’t want to listen to a kid.

So then, after the entire shit show of the breaking of Avengers and his plane crashing, his mind somehow concluded that he should offer the kid a place on the Avengers and have a massive press conference about it. When Parker had said no, it was one of the very rare occasions that Tony had been rendered clueless as to what to do next. Not many people turned down offers from Tony Stark, and he was ashamed to say he was not entirely used to it. Instead, he did the thing he should have done instead of making a fourteen-year-old an Avenger: he gave him the suit back. The suit he should not have taken away in the first place.

He’s a good kid, said the voice of Happy.

During the six months since the Coney Island debacle, in which Tony had only observed updates of the kid’s suit at random times when he was bored, Tony had thought many times that he could just invite the kid back as a real intern. Hadn’t he said he was going to mentor him more? Just because the kid had said no to being an Avenger didn’t mean he didn’t need mentoring. And the kid was clever! He’d made his own webs for Christ’s sake. He was top in most of his classes and was smart enough to know what was going on before Tony.

For some reason, Tony had let the idea stir contently in his brain without doing anything. He’d kept the kid at arm’s length before and was met with the consequences. What if he allowed him in but suffered much worse?

He also, he could admit, did not think it wise to defeat loneliness with a kid who wanted to be like him. Sure, Pepper was back, but Pepper was still CEO and extremely busy. She’d just got back from Japan doing some sort of … business proposal that Tony didn’t really care about. Maybe it was for the new StarkPhone range he’d designed at 4 am when he couldn’t sleep. Rhodey was working again since getting his mechanical leg supports and recovering well. Rhodey was also spending a lot of time with his family, which made Tony’s guilt complex hard to ignore. His injuries were irreversible, but Tony had tried his hardest to allow him to walk again. Rhodey hadn’t complained, not once, even when he struggled to get up. Tony, however, had holed himself in his lab for three days in an attempt to get over his churning guilt that it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

All in all, Tony was, as he’d heard the younger college interns say to each other, straight up not having a good time. The only consolation was that Pepper was back in his life, even if she had decided that they were not going to get married yet and had yelled at him when she had found out that Spider-Man was fourteen. Apparently, she had believed Happy and Tony were calling him a ‘kid’ as a sort of joke, and that he was on the ‘young side’ in college. Tony felt like she’d spoken to Rhodey and drawn (the wrong) conclusions. It didn’t help that Tony had said he was fourteen when he himself went to college; Pepper had looked at him like she’d quite like to throw something at his head.

“You took a fourteen-year-old to Germany, ignored him for two months, and then offered him to become an Avenger after he saved your plane you didn’t think was going to be hijacked?”

Well, no wonder May was mad at him.

Tony twirled slightly in his chair, tapping his chin in thoughtful consideration.

“FRIDAY, recent reports on Spider-Man?”

FRIDAY’s cool voice filtered through the lab.

“There are no recent reports on Spider-Man.”

“Well, I haven’t checked in a few days, any reports in the last week?”

“There are no recent reports on Spider-Man.”

“FRIDAY, did I use my magical mind to create an AI to repeat words like a self-service checkout? What do you mean there are no recent reports?”

“Sorry, boss. Mr Parker has not used his suit this week, nor has he appeared anywhere online as Spider-Man.”

“Huh, anything going on recently?” Tony spins round on his chair. “Like, school trip or something?”

“It’s spring break, sir,” said FRIDAY.

“Huh,” this one is more elongated as his mind begins to churn. “Big holiday, then, do you think?”

“Did you want me to find outbound flights with the Parker’s names on?”

“No, no,” said Tony, thinking that it would be – and not in a harsh way – quite unusual if the Parkers got on a plane. “I will leave him be.”

This, it turned out, would bite him in the ass.

“If you want to see him again, why don’t you ask?”

Tony started, looking up from his tablet where a hologram of the Spider suit was again displayed. Through the blue glow on the opposite sofa sat Pepper, still dressed in her work outfit minus the heels, peering at him from over the top of her own laptop. It had been three days since Tony had sat doing nothing in his lab. Three days with no more sightings of Spider-Man. It seemed that online, people had started to notice, and the first few whispers were starting to appear. A few tweets had started asking where he was; the blog called ‘SPIDEY STORIES’ had written an article on the longest time Spider-Man had been away for, the answer being fourteen days. Currently at nine days of no Spider-Man, it was starting to look the same.

“What?” said Tony blankly.

“The kid,” said Pepper, waving her hand at the hologram. “You’ve been looking at the Spider suit every evening for about a month.”

“For ideas,” said Tony.

Pepper ignored this comment.

“You said he was clever, didn’t you? Goes to a STEM school. He makes his own webs that you can’t replicate. Why don’t you invite him for an actual internship?”

Tony – who was a little stuck on the ‘that you can’t replicate’ because, dammit, he had tried to be inconspicuous in his frustrations over that – took a good couple of minutes to realise what she had said.

“I don’t have teenagers for interns.”

Pepper gave him one of her many looks. This one was for when Tony was being deliberately obtuse about what she meant.

“He’s a little different from a regular teenager, don’t you think?” said Pepper. “Considering he has powers? Even you don’t have that.”

“OK, ouch,” said Tony. “First of all: rude, and second of all: powers or not he’s still a teenager with all his regular high school troubles that I don’t really want to deal with.”

“Who says you’d deal with that? Doesn’t he live with his aunt? That’s who’s there for that,” said Pepper. “In all honesty, you’re not cut out for the high school drama help. You just got drunk to deal with it.”

“I feel very attacked today,” said Tony.

“Just think about it, Tony,” Pepper sighed. “Maybe it will help you sleep at night, knowing you aren’t letting a teenager run around unsupervised.”

Tony thought that was a load of shit, because he had slept badly before Spider-Man, and still slept badly now. His morals did not ascend to supervising children with superpowers.

But you did, said a little voice.

No, I supervised because he blew up a ferry, thought Tony.

The little voice stayed quiet, and so did Pepper, eyes switched back to the laptop as if she never mentioned anything. But if Tony knew Pepper (and he did, very well) then the whole internship idea will be brought up again. Because if Pepper thought it was a good idea, then Tony would have to be on guard to when she would inevitably bring it up again.

Pepper, in her delightful Peppery way, did not bring it up again for five days, in which time Tony had still not managed to figure out the webbing.

She mentioned it again over dinner on a Wednesday evening when Rhodey was visiting. Rhodey seemed only half-listening because he was watching the news. It was something apparently important, but it didn’t involve aliens, so Tony was not listening.

“He might be too busy,” Tony said in reply. “You know, being a vigilante and everything.”

“Tony,” said Pepper, sounding a bit exasperated. “I’m saying that you should help him through being a superhero or vigilante, whatever he calls himself. It can’t be easy doing it all by himself at his age – don’t you think he should have someone in his corner helping him out? He doesn’t have anyone else in the same situation, and the last time you left him alone he was in a plane crash. He’s out there all by himself.”

“Look, I know he’s a kid but he’s fifteen not five –”

“He’s what now?”

Rhodey had finally fully joined their conversation, with a rather steely glint in his eye. Whoops.

“Tony,” he sounded pained. “Are you telling me that when I asked how young Spider-Man was, and you were extremely cryptic in response, it was because he was fourteen?”

“Er, yes,” said Tony. “In my defence, we had a rather limited supply of superheroes at our disposal – you know, considering half of them were on the other side –”

“I thought he was in college!” Rhodey looked up at the ceiling in some kind of prayer. “I thought he was a freshman in college, not high school.”

“Isn’t that a plot to a Friends episode?”

“Shut up, Tony,” said Pepper.

“He – he had school – did his parents even know you took him to Germany to fight Captain America?”

“Er, his aunt didn’t know – at the time – so, I agreed to keep it on an ‘internship’ dealio –”

“What’s his aunt got to do with anything?”

“His parents died in a plane crash, so his aunt and uncle were his guardians – then his uncle died, I think, don’t know how, like six months before Germany,” Tony had done a little research into Peter’s parents after he had realised Peter lived with his aunt. “So, May is his guardian.”

“Jesus,” said Rhodey, looking horrified. Pepper, on his other side, looked equally horrified. Ah, she hadn’t been told the reason why Peter lived with May. “How did his uncle die?”

“Ben Parker was shot in a bodega robbery in December of 2015,” FRIDAY, unprompted, replied. “The assailant was never caught. Peter Parker was at the scene but was unharmed.”

Rhodey made a choking sort of noise as Tony had a wave of nausea hit him. Jesus.

All at once, the Kid’s voice filtered through his brain without Tony realising:

“When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t and then the bad things happen. They happen because of you”.

He was reminded, pointedly, and painfully, of just how young Parker was – or had been – at the time. When Tony had asked the question of why, he had only really wanted to know if Parker had been in it for the fame, glory, and riches that could potentially come with being a hero for the little guy. Tony had listened to this … this profound statement coming from a kid and had just … been slightly impressed but preoccupied with his brain stating he’ll do.

“Is that why he became Spider-Man? His Uncle died?” asked Pepper.

“Jesus,” Rhodey said again.

“He said he’d had his powers for six months,” said Tony. “His uncle must’ve died after he got his powers.”

“Spider-Man didn’t come out in the public until February,” said Rhodey, looking at his tablet. Tony noticed he had YouTube open and was busy watching the video of when Peter stopped a bus. “According to the first reports on him, anyway. You think that’s connected?”

Tony shrugged. “Who knows? The Kid did seem to have the world on his shoulders. I thought he was being a regular kid with … girl – or boy – problems.”

There were a few moments whilst Rhodey looked at his tablet in contemplation and Pepper looked out the window.

“You invited a fourteen-year-old to be an Avenger?”

“Before you start, Pepper has already yelled at me for that,” said Tony. Rhodey looked as though he wanted to punch something. Ideally, Tony’s face.

“I know Steve’s whole betrayal was a lot on you, but Tony, don’t you know how irresponsible that was?”

“Yes, OK? I’d already fucked up with the kid, whilst he was actually onto something, so it was my weird-ass way of apology and reward, alright? Besides, he said no.”

“Good,” said Rhodey. “At least one of you was responsible. Wouldn’t expect it to be the fourteen-year-old.”

“He was fifteen by then!”

“That literally makes no difference,” said Rhodey. “What were you talking about, anyway. Why are you offering him an internship?”

“I’m thinking about it,” said Tony.

“Because he realised that he was irresponsible,” said Pepper. “And that he hasn’t called the kid since offering him a place.”

“You haven’t called him for six months?” asked Rhodey.

“I feel that this conversation will never go in my favour,” said Tony. “Can we just establish that I’m a piece of shit and not question it for the rest of the time?”

“No,” said Rhodey at the same time Pepper said: “You’re not a piece of shit.”

Rhodey looked at her.

“Much,” amended Pepper. “You certainly were.”

“Yes, thank you, darling, I know,” said Tony, rubbing his face.

“Look, Tony, all I’m saying is that you phone the kid, help him out with whatever superhero troubles, make sure he’s safe, and make sure you actually communicate with him,” said Pepper. “I know that’s not your strong point –”

“Like patience,” interjected Rhodey.

“But it’s a great place to start working on it,” Pepper carried on. “I came back, didn’t I?”

“I thought that was because I was irresistible,” said Tony, and Pepper rolled her eyes. “Honeybear, am I not irresistible?”

“You’re extremely resistible,” said Rhodey. From what Tony could see, he was still watching Spider-Man videos on YouTube. “And idiotic. Remind me why we haven’t run away together yet, Pepper?”

“We’d miss New York,” said Pepper. “Probably.”

“It’s fine, we’ll go to Washington, I’ve got great digs,” said Rhodey, watching Spider-Man help a family out of a burning house.

“Am I in this conversation?”

“No,” said Pepper and Rhodey.

“Look, just think about it instead of just staring at his suit as though it holds the answers of the universe,” Pepper carried on. “Besides, the others are coming tomorrow.”

A wave of nausea hit Tony like a bus.

“Oh god,” he said.

“That’s literally why I’m here,” said Rhodey.

“I thought we were having a nice family dinner,” Tony said. “And they’re not coming until tomorrow evening.”

“I’m here to make sure you’re alive in time for tomorrow evening,” replied Rhodey. He swiped on the tablet and clicked something else related to Spider-Man. Tony didn’t really want Rhodey to delve further into the archives of Spider-Man’s adventures but made no approach at stopping him. He was a bit preoccupied.

“I’m going to the lab,” he said abruptly, shoving his stool back as he got up.

He barely looked at Pepper and Rhodey as he hurried off, knowing that for all he had the pretence of being Iron Man, he was very much a coward when it came to feelings.

Tony was going to throw up.

Rhodey also seemed to think that Tony was going to throw up, because he very indiscreetly put a bucket next to his chair and then went and sat as far away as possible. Even in college, where puke was a nightly occurrence, Rhodey had always hated it. Which, funnily enough, strengthened their relationship all the more when Rhodey nonetheless sat with Tony until he’d finished. Now, though, Rhodey had stated he was old enough to do it all by himself.

The past 24 hours had whizzed by in a mash of lab work, coffee, a four-hour power nap, coffee, three conversations with Pepper, and more coffee. For the past eight hours, Rhodey had been hovering beside him as though he was going get drunk and blast out the window à la Tony Stark circa 2008.

“All you have to do is say hello,” said Rhodey, who seemed unflappable in the face of seeing half the team that betrayed them.

“Right,” said Tony, knowing he’d never just be able to get away with ‘hello’. Especially not to American Man himself. “Because that will go down super.”

“Have you ever said ‘super’ before?”

“No, and it felt terrible, so let’s move on from that.”

Rhodey huffed slightly and stretched his legs out. Ten or so – Tony couldn’t quite remember now, his head filled with betrayal, and the upcoming reunion – months had passed and Rhodey could now stretch without wincing. For someone about to see the person responsible (and yes, Tony knew it wasn’t overly Sam’s fault, he just didn’t have to dodge so well) for his injuries, Rhodey seemed rather at ease. Tony didn’t know if it was for his benefit, considering the bucket, or Rhodey was as calm as he showed on the outside.

It took all of five minutes before Tony leapt up swiftly – Rhodey not even blinking – and started pacing around.

“Wow,” said Rhodey dryly. “It’s just like sharing a dorm again. Scary test tomorrow?”

Tony shot him what he believed to be a nice, withering glare. Rhodey just grinned widely. Thirty years seemed to have made him immune to Tony’s glares, much to the man’s displeasure.

“They’re coming into my house,” said Tony.

“They’ve already been in your house,” countered Rhodey.

“That’s before they went and took the other side,” Tony snapped.

“They decided their side just the same as you,” said Rhodey reasonably. “You’ve never liked differing of opinion.”

“Differing of opinion –”

“You saw what Ross did to them when they were captured,” said Rhodey. “He would have done much worse to James Barnes, who was completely innocent in the whole situation. Steve was doing what he thought was right.”

Tony knew, deep down, that Rhodey was regretting signing the Accords. He had been extremely pleased when he relayed the news that Ross had been sacked and that the Accords were over, and that the U.N. was deciding on a less freedom-restricting approach to enhanced individuals. As much as Rhodey insisted that he would not change the side he was on, Tony knew that it was because of Tony that Rhodey had even signed in the first place (and, perhaps, his job). After realising the damage, Tony couldn’t help but agree. That did not mean he was ready to forgive Steve Fucking Rogers about Siberia.

“I was his friend, too,” said Tony.

“You still can be,” said Rhodey.

Tony ignored him and continued pacing. He only froze when the elevator made a soft ding and heard the tell-tale signs of the doors opening. Rhodey had also got to his feet and stood near Tony, which was appreciated.

It was Natasha first, of course. She moved, as ever, silently and crossed the room without making a sound. Her normally carefully composed face showed hints of nerves and her lips twitched up in a fleeting smile.

“Your hair is blonde,” Tony, after having a mantra of not speaking to any of the Rogues, broke his promise and the silence first.

The fleeting smile came and went again as Nat continued to look at him dead on. She was always rather unnerving.

“Platinum, actually,” she said. Her voice was still just as soothing as before. It was also carefully considered, giving nothing away to how she was feeling.

“My apologies,” Tony replied, hoping his voice had a similar effect. Because really, he was shitting his pants.

“It’s good to see you,” Nat continued. “You’re … looking better.”

Tony gave a little shrug. “The rumours are true: betrayal does make you work out more.”

He heard Rhodey let out a breath as Natasha’s face fell slightly.

“I did what I thought best,” she said.

“Was it?”

Nat didn’t reply straight away, just stared at him plainly and tilted her head slightly.

“Yes.”

“Right,” said Tony, his resolve returning. “Well, the Tower is the same. This,” he indicated the communal area. “is all yours and the – er – rest of you, and your room is down the corridor to the left. You don’t have access to my floor, and please don’t try.”

Natasha nodded.

“Steve should be here soon,” she said. “For a warning. Did you want me here?”

“Yes,” said Tony.

Natasha nodded again before turning to Rhodey.

“Rhodey,” she said softly.

“Hey, Nat,” said Rhodey, smiling genuinely. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” smiled Nat. “How are the legs?”

“Useless,” said Rhodey. “But I got Tones.”

“I’m glad,” said Nat.

Natasha didn’t do small talk, and neither did Tony (not that he was in a great sense to do so). Therefore, the group of three were silent for the ten minutes it took for the elevator to bring up the new arrivals.

Tony turned away from the elevator and stared hard out the window at the New York skyline. It was one of the reasons he had decided to keep the Tower; the view never got old. It was currently turning into the nice, springtime dusk of April. The soft glow of the sun was dipping below the skyscrapers that had nothing on the height of Tony’s Tower. There was a thin layer of cloud obscuring some of the view, but it was nonetheless breath-taking.

“Tony.”

All those feelings, the thoughts on the betrayal, the lying, the shield, and the pain came rushing back from wherever Tony had stored it. He suddenly, before he’d even turned, felt more haggard and pained than he’d felt ten months ago. Steve could put so much fucking feeling into saying his name. Tony had always hated that, made him hate his own name even more than he already did. How he wished he could just blast through a window as Iron Man and leave into the dusky sunset.

“Rogers,” he said, trying not to sound hoarse. Pull yourself together. He straightened and turned; his paparazzi smile slapped onto his very fake persona. As he turned, he took in Steve – with a beard and looking goddamn great for someone who had nearly killed his friend and had been on the run for ten months – hovering by the kitchen. Behind him, looking like he’d also rather dive through a window than be where he currently was, was Bucky Barnes.

You and me both, thought Tony.

Seeing Barnes made Tony stiffen, but not in the way Steve did. (There was a dirty joke in there somewhere if Tony cared to look. He did not.) Steve’s betrayal was the fact he never told him; never said he knew how his parents died. Barnes was just the … machine in charge of enacting it. He looked better, though, Barnes did. His eyes still looked haunted, but his hair was tied back, and he stood rigid, instead of trying to be part of the floor.

Barnes caught eyes with Tony, his mouth a grim line as he twitched his head. Tony gave a slight indication back and Barnes glanced back at the window.

“Thank you for having us here,” said Steve, bringing Tony back full force. He barely stopped himself from staggering as his mind zoned in what was going on. Steve had taken three steps forward and his brow was furrowed.

“Not to be ‘that guy’, Cap, but I’d rather you didn’t come closer,” said Tony abruptly. His flight or fight instinct was starting to gather momentum. “The whole teamwork aspect is the only reason you’re not at the Compound.”

“I –”

“Don’t try,” Tony dismissed him. “We’re so not there, right now.”

The tension, which was getting close to breaking point the longer Steve looked mournfully at Tony’s glaring face, was sliced when the elevator dinged open, and Sam Wilson stalked out looking extremely annoyed.

“I’m not bringing all the fucking bags up,” he snapped, making Steve and Barnes twist round. “Bucky has enough for a small damn army – what have you brought with you, hair supplies?”

“I’m a modern man now, Wilson, aim at the hair all you like but I’m not biting,” Barnes snarked back. “Besides, three bags are for how I’m going to dispose of your body –”

“Is this really the time?” Steve interrupted, for the first time with some sense of prolonged irritation.

The entire situation and friendship dynamic was so unexpected that Tony just stood and watched as Bucky and Sam continued to bicker like a married couple, with Steve getting continually more annoyed.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if your damn goats were in the bags –”

“– don’t start on my goats, I named one after you –”

“– the one who looked possessed and shat everywhere? Yeah, truly a nice show of friendship, Barnes –”

Finally, Rhodey cleared his throat and stood up.

Sam and Bucky stopped immediately, the latter looking instantly remorseful.

“Colonel Rhodes,” said Sam, striding forwards with a solemn look. “I –”

“I don’t need to hear an apology, Sam,” said Rhodey as Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. “It was an accident. And Rhodey is fine, I hear Colonel enough at work.”

Sam smiled somewhat awkwardly and looked around. Tony realised he’d never actually been to the Tower, living at the Compound before everything happened.

“Rooms down the corridor,” said Tony. “No entry to the penthouse.”

Sam and Bucky nodded, looking rather awkward now they’d stopped bickering. Natasha had wandered off next to stand next to Steve, whose brows were furrowed again.

“The meeting rooms?” asked Steve.

“Floor fifty,” said Tony.

“We were thinking of having one tomorrow –”

“Do whatever you want,” Tony said dismissively.

“Actually, Tony, I was hoping the entire team would be involved –”

“That’s a nope from me,” Tony said immediately. “Big nope, no, not going to happen. We’re not a team anymore, Cap, so unless there’s a threat to the entire world or vicinity of the New York area, I don’t care.”

At this point, Tony did what Tony liked to do in situations that he was not comfortable in: he left.