2.
Tony leaned against the elevator railing and looked thoughtfully at his left hand. His knuckles were scraped, two of his fingernails were torn, and his wrist hurt so much he could hardly move it. During the fight, there had been an error on his suit that he had in no way expected, and he had lost one of his gauntlets. Of course he hadn't told Captain Careful about it, why should he? He wasn't a kid in need of a fuss. And besides, Rogers and the others were pretty out of it. Not that he wasn't shaken by that unfortunate incident, but that wasn’t the point.
"Any news, Jarvis?" Tony asked, looking up at the overhead camera for a moment and smiling at his dear friend. Not like Jarvis was really there, behind the camera, of course.
"Almost none, sir," he informed him. "While you were away, Dum-E broke your favourite mug with the Black Sabbath logo on it, but I've already taken the liberty of ordering you a new one. And Miss Potts stopped by to pick up the rest of her stuff."
Tony bit the inside of his cheek, and despite his best efforts not to take the breakup with Pepper seriously, his heart clenched uncomfortably.
He walked into the living room and looked around. Through the windows he could see the sunset, bathing the tall buildings of New York in shades of red and pink. Jarvis did not turn on the lights, and despite the gold outside the windows, the room was bathed in gloomy shadows. Truth be told, he'd gotten used to Pepper waiting for him at home whenever he left for a mission. He felt a strange sense of emptiness as he stared at the brown sofa. Usually she sat on it with a glass of wine in her hand, working to keep herself from being bitten by boredom and worry as she waited.
He wasn't surprised that she had ended it with him, in fact he had expected it. None of his relationships had ever lasted more than a few months, and it was always him who somehow messed up. Only most of the time he realized what he'd done. This time he wasn't sure, and Pepper had never exactly told him.
It could have been that he wasn't paying enough attention to her. He spent too much time in the workshop, working on his suits or other inventions. Anything to keep himself occupied. Sometimes he didn't come out for days.
Or maybe it was the way he'd socially embarrassed them both at that last charity event. Or was it someone else's party? He didn't know or remember exactly what he'd done. The alcohol had reliably wiped it from his mind, and Pepper's utterly undetailed narrative didn't help him remember. He vaguely knew he was trying to saddle an alpaca...
The gay porn Pepper had caught him watching could still be to blame. Most women generally hated when their partner watched porn, but gay porn was a whole different cup of coffee. But by God, they were in the twenty-first century! Could a man really not watch an adult movie without suffering the consequences? It was just a harmless video, wasn't it?
Pepper wasn't talking to him. When they had to discuss something work-related, she maintained a professional attitude and spent as little time in the same room with him as necessary, but not a minute more. A couple of times he'd even tried to talk to her about what had actually happened between them, but each time she'd brushed him off and walked away. Eventually he stopped trying and just let it go. He was too proud to ask her to come back. All things considered, after a few days drowned in alcohol, he'd be better and nothing like a broken heart - which he certainly didn't have! - would bother him anymore.
He went into the bathroom, pulled a brace for his arm out of one of the cabinets, and fixed his wrist with it. On his way back to the living room, he asked another question: "I guess no one tried to destroy New York while we were gone, right?"
"No, sir, the weather was beautiful all day and according to the police reports there were only twelve burglaries, one car theft, two stabbings and a fire in Brooklyn."
"In Brooklyn?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, sir. In the same house where Captain Rogers lives. Do you wish to send a drone?"
"Why should I wish that, Jarvis?"
"I thought you might like to know and see more."
"Hmmm..." Tony rubbed his chin thoughtfully and scratched his beard. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, took a good swig, and nod his head in agreement. "Well, why not, send them in."
"Already did, sir."
"I wonder how Captain Uptight would look if he knew I was spying on him with drones?" Tony interjected with a laugh, and after Jarvis's reply he laughed even harder, "I'm afraid you'd have to explain to Captain Rogers what a drone is first."
A beautiful, clear take from the drone's camera appeared on the huge screen, flying over New York. Tony sat back in his chair and took another sip of the golden liquid. The drone soon arrived at its destination, allowing Tony to see several fire trucks and flames shooting out the windows of Steve's apartment building. Captain really had bad luck today, he thought mischievously and grinned. As if a dislocated shoulder wasn't enough, his apartment had burned down. Now he'd have to spend the night at the SHIELD base in those near-prison beds that were less comfortable than the bare floor.
"The lower apartments in the Tower are empty," Jarvis informed him in a voice that could only be called casual. Tony shot a frowning glance at one of the cameras. Had Jarvis encouraged him to get the captain to move into the tower?
"Jarvis, when exactly did you become such a manipulative bastard?"
"Around the time you created me, sir."
Tony grumbled, quite clearly imagining Jarvis's serious, polite expression. He slid lower in his chair and watched the live stream from the drone. For a moment, he even managed to catch a glimpse of Steve, who had just come around the corner, looking extremely shocked.
"Does anyone know what happened there?"
"According to what the media have leaked so far, there was a gas explosion."
"Hmm... " Tony didn't believe it. Not that gas explosions were any kind of rarity, no way. They happened quite often. And that was the point. When an incident like this occurred and someone didn't want the public to know the truth, they covered it up with a gas explosion. And a big fire like that in the apartment building where the famous Captain America lived? Either it was just a freak accident or something smells fishy.
Tony frowned at the thought. If it really was the latter, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to offer Steve a place to stay. SHIELD might have been a safer place on the surface, full of agents, weapons, and high-tech security equipment, but Tony didn't trust them. He trusted the members of the Avengers, not 100%, but he did. But not SHIELD. They were hiding too much from them. Maybe Steve hadn't batted an eye when they'd gotten the order, but Tony really wasn't that trusting.
He finished his drink, left the glass on the floor, and went back to the elevator. In the garage, he got into the nearest of the cars and headed straight for Brooklyn.
"Jarve, dial Rogers for me."
"Certainly, sir," came the immediate response from the on-board computer, and the next moment ringtones carried through the car. It took a long time, Tony even had the feeling that Captain wouldn't answer, but eventually the ringing stopped and Steve's calm and, to Tony's surprise, amused voice came over the speakers, along with the street noise. He didn't sound like a man who had just lost his apartment.
"Hey, Tony. Tell me, when did you manage to get to my mobile phone and shield that I didn't notice?"
Tony chuckled softly in amusement, immediately knowing what Steve was talking about. "Once you fell asleep in the jet, soldier. But that was quite a while ago, how come you didn't figure it out sooner? By the way, I'm very offended that you didn't have my picture!"
"I don't know how to add photos to contacts. I didn't even know it was possible," the captain admitted without shame. Tony thought he sounded strangely relaxed and content. And tired, too. The latter he understood, they were post-mission, he himself could barely keep his eyes open, but otherwise he absolutely couldn't understand how the loss of his apartment, his home and his belongings hadn't moved him at all.
"Oh yeah, I forgot you're from the stone age," he snapped, passing several cars that stretched like snails in front of him. "Hey, why am I actually calling. Jarvis told me your house burned down."
"Well... yeah, Jarvis is right. It's pretty crazy around here right now. Luckily no one's trapped inside and the firemen are managing to contain the fire."
"What's your plan now? Sleep at the SHIELD base? Or find a comfy cardboard box on a street corner?"
"I'm afraid the box would be too short to cover my feet. Why do you ask?"
Steve was joking? Tony cocked an eyebrow and lowered his gaze to the dashboard monitor, which showed only the contact's name, "Captain Steve Damn Rogers," and the duration of the call, as if he could see Steve's face. This didn't sit well with him, Steve was so uptight and serious all the time. Maybe this was how he dealt with stress? There was also the possibility that Steve had mysteriously managed to get drunk or high on something. That had to be really good stuff to take down a super soldier. And he didn't even share with him!
"I have a spare floor in the tower. With a room, a bathroom, a kitchen, a closet, and plenty of other necessities... So I was just wondering if you might want to stay with me while you figure out what to do next."
It was quiet for a long time, Tony could only hear Steve's breathing and the shouts of people and firemen on the street. "Get that dog some oxygen!" someone yelled at one point.
"You there, Cap?"
"That's very thoughtful of you, Tony, I appreciate it," he began in that polite and comprehensive manner. Tony could feel the "but" in his speech quite clearly from the first word, and of course it came at once. The Captain did not disappoint. "But I'd hate to bother you."
"Hey, were you listening to me? I have a spare floor, we don't even have to meet unless we want to!" He chimed in. "And besides, I'm not doing this for you, Cap. It's for me and the team. If you sleep on that torture device SHIELD cheekily calls a bed, you'll be a pain in the ass and every mission will be a torture."
Steve chuckled lightly and sighed. Tony then added. "You're always so helpful to everyone, mother hen. Let someone help you for once... But I won't force you."
That was a lie, he was going to make him do it. Maybe he could just drive over there, cram the nearly six-foot-tall supersoldier into the trunk and take him with him. For purely scientific reasons, of course! He only knew Steve as Captain America and as his commander.
But what was the real Steve Rogers like? Did he cook breakfast in the morning? Did he wear an apron when he cooked? What music did he listen to and how did he spend his free time? Did he pray before bed, on his knees by the bed? And most importantly, and this was the most important question, did he go home with or without shoes? Barefoot or in socks? You could tell a lot by this, and Tony had a sudden urge to find out. Maybe he'd get a different perspective on Rogers, too, and push to the back of his mind the image of the perfect Captain America that Howard had been drumming into him since childhood.
There was a long sigh signifying resignation. "If you really don't mind, Tony, I'd like to take you up on your offer."
He grinned contentedly and mentally patted himself on the back. He'd managed to persuade the captain, and he was proud of himself about it. This will be interesting!
"Okay. Are you still outside the house? I'll pick you up, gonna be there in ten minutes."
"Ten minutes? Tony, even if you broke all the traffic laws, you wouldn't get here sooner than in half an hour."
"I'm on my way already."
Steve paused again, then there was another sigh. "You didn't count on me refusing, or wouldn't take no for an answer?"
"The former, Cap. No one just turns Tony Stark down."
"Yeah, you're probably right. Drive carefully."
Steve hung up before he could reply with a snide remark. Tony smiled, settled more comfortably in the leather seat, and passed the other snails on the road. It was true that he and Rogers had been at each other's throats almost constantly since they'd met, but Tony was still looking forward to it. If anything, there would be another living thing in the tower. Those silent bare walls sometimes felt claustrophobic, and his only solace was working in the workshop.
Almost at a trot, he crossed Rogers Street. It really was a madhouse, the house was still on fire, two fire trucks, police and several ambulances were on the scene. Everyone was so busy that no one came to yell at him - or at least try to - for blocking the road.
"Jarvis, get those drones back here," he hissed. "Have them do scans, I want everything you can find out."
"Of course, sir."
Tony saw Steve on the wall not far from him. He sat with his shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on the house, his hands dropped loosely in his lap. Though Tony didn't know why and it made him considerably nervous, the image of little Steve with a backpack on his back popped into his mind. Indeed, he looked like a schoolboy waiting for his parents. Not that Tony knew anything about that. He'd been home schooled for the first few years and then sent away to boarding school. His parents never picked him up from school.
He stopped the car right in front of him, rolled down the window and looked at him over the rim of his sunglasses.
"I gotta say, you look pretty good for a homeless guy... Consider this a kidnapping, Captain," he joked, reaching across the seat to open the door for him. "Get in before more firefighters get behind my ass and block us in. You just had to get into that house, didn't you?" he commented on the black smudges on his face and hands.
Steve quickly got in and closed the door with exaggerated caution, for which Tony was grateful. With his strength he would have been able to rip the door off and Tony liked his car.
Tony grinned in amusement, Steve almost didn't fit in. His head was touching the ceiling and his knees were almost to his ears. He advised him to adjust the seat, but even when he slid it all the way back and reclined it a little, the car was still too small for him.
"Next time I'll come in a jeep," he muttered, backing out quickly and heading back to the tower.
"Thanks, Tony," the captain gave him a smile. "I just helped them get the few people out of the house. But they were extremely lucky that my apartment and the one next door were empty. There were no deaths and the injuries are not serious."
"Sure, lucky..." he remarked and looked at him. "Do you believe that tale about the gas explosion, Rogers?"
"Sure. Why shouldn't I?"
Steve seemed confused. Tony felt his gaze on him, so he just jerked his shoulders vaguely. Maybe he was just paranoid, but he really didn't want to believe that the gas explosion at Captain America's house was an accident. He decided to look into it later to be sure.