So this was the safe-house. Ok. Great. Farming is fun, definitely. Also it didn‘t smell like dung at all, like none whatsoever and Jesus, was that a dragon-fly or demon over there? So needless to say, Tony was overwhelmed. It was not because he had built the most threatening AI in human history and unleashed it unto the world. It was also not because four members of his team had been attacked with whatever it was, and obviously been down for the count for a bit there and Tony hadn‘t done anything to prevent that. No.
Mr. Billionaire and savior of the world was on edge because he wasn‘t sure the wonky water-situation at the farm was situated for five sweaty, stinky Avengers that all needed a shower and Tony would not, repeat, not use the rain water-reservoir behind the house, like Cap had done. It might have been ok for Captain Great Depression there but Tony wasn‘t good with cold water assaulting his delicate body. Afghanistan had taken care of that.
But sure, he could keep his worries down and his mouth shut while everyone walked around on egg shells and didn‘t even entertain the idea to head out again to face their problems. It felt a bit like sitting amidst blazing flames and pretending to have a barbecue, staying out here in Fuckville, Nowhere. And Bruce was tending to Natasha, who was so damn wrecked from the witch‘s attack, she didn‘t even talk, or have eye contact. It was terrible watching her being so shocked. Clint kept hovering over her as well until she made it clear he was overdoing it and he allowed her to deal with this in private, only Bruce staying in front of that bathroom while she fought down the demons inside her, taking a well deserved rest himself after the other guy had been subjected to the same dark force.
And Thor had left, probably because whatever he saw was not keeping him confined to a dirty farm for a couple of days to come down from it. Thor had this fire inside him and this endless stash of hope. He would never just sit down in a corner and wallow.
So that only left the dearest Captain being on display for Tony to vent his frustration to and the moment Tony had stepped out onto the yard and saw him being all polite and amazing guest and stacking up the pile of fire-wood for the whole of the coming winter, Tony would have liked to scream his frustration at him. How in the hell did he do this? How in the hell was he still functioning after what just happened? It was not normal to just carry on like that, when the strongest and most stable person Tony knew, had been reduced to a quivering ball of anxiety from that same attack.
Something had to give. And Tony poked and prodded and of course, what he actually had tried to do was getting some kind of acknowledgement out of Steve that he felt like shit too, that he was human and vulnerable too. But the fucking serum and the fucking person carrying it, made him all stoic and emotionless and there wasn‘t even the hint of a crack in his outer shell. Tony would have liked to punch him, right in the face. And Steve would just have taken it, making excuses for Tony‘s awful behavior. Not that he held back his anger too much, at Tony building Ultron, at not coming clean about his worries, at Barton keeping family-sized secrets, at Natasha never mentioning her blind side, at his whole team treating the Avengers as a hobby and not the serious organization it was.
Tony felt bad for provoking Steve like this, after all he‘d been through since last night. And god had it really been almost a day ago by now, that Ultron reared its ugly head? Tony clamped his lips together while turning carefully around on the queen-sized guest bed. It was hot outside and he only needed a light sheet as a blanket, he listened to the crickets chirping, and, oh god, where these frogs mating far away? It sounded like right from a 1940s cartoon. Cap should feel right at home with this.
But the man wasn‘t even here. He was actually supposed to be, at some point at least. The farmhouse wasn‘t huge but had two guest bedrooms apart from the master and a bed room for the two kids. So Bruce and Nat were accommodated in the guest room with enhanced bathroom, that left the smaller one for Tony and Steve. By the time Tony had wolfed down a sandwich and told Laura and Clint he‘d have to hit the hay to prevent from flaking out now, Steve had not been around anymore. Probably gone for a walk, Barton had seemed to know what was up and only waved Tony‘s worries aside.
Ok, then, everyone was accounted for and Tony‘s concern under-appreciated. He was fine with that. Whenever Steve was ready to crawl into the narrow bed next to Tony, it would happen. Tony just hoped he had taken a real shower by then and they would just be able to ignore each other for a few hours until they had to face that awful end-of-the-world-problem Tony had created.
And Tony must have fallen asleep at some point because he startled awake when he heard a noise from the door. He was confused for a second in the almost dark room, a faint light was still visible at the horizon, but then recalled the events of the past 24 hours and had to fight a tightening knot in his throat down. That really had not been a nightmare.
He heard soft steps, like someone walking carefully and then felt the bed dipping significantly. So Steve must have come back by now. Tony estimated it to be around half past ten, maybe almost eleven, meaning Steve had been gone for several hours, missing dinner and what could be described as a preliminary de-brief, which more or less ended in Clint, Tony and Bruce counting their blessings that none of them had been killed.
So Tony waited until Steve lay down to try to go back to sleep, but nothing happened. The leader only kept sitting on the bed, the far end of it, not making any sound. Tony turned slightly around, careful not to make too much noise and caught a glimpse of his first-in-command and he would not have guessed to ever see that. A defeated Captain America, shoulders slumped, head hanging low, a visible tremble going through him, his huge upper-arm-muscles twitching with it. Tony could not see Steve‘s face but he would not have been surprised to see the man crying right there, his whole bearing screamed defeat and exhaustion.
So what now? Tony had wanted this, hadn‘t he? Attacking Steve for being all stable and emotionless after that shit-show. And now he had his human moment, the one that made sure this was a man and not a soldier machine but Tony felt awful seeing Steve like this. It didn‘t bring him any consolation or peace, it fell flat and made the whole debacle of a day even darker.
„Steve?“ Tony said carefully, almost in a whisper. Apart from the fucking frogs and the cicadas no sound could be heard, not even the stupid motorway in the distance which made Tony feel even worse. They really were in the middle of nowhere. The tired man had meanwhile straightened up a little and blearily turned around to Tony, facing him and not even trying to hide the tears in his eyes.
„Sorry, did I wake you?“ he said in the same volume and Tony shook his head, even though it was a lie. He sat up and turned around to switch the light on the night table on.
„Did you eat? Barton said he would leave something for you in the kitchen?“ Tony tried to hold a normal conversation but he saw Steve shaking his head.
„Not hungry,“ the man explained his reluctance to take something in. Which, no, not good. Not with his horrendously exhilarated metabolism.
„Hey, about our conversation, ...“
„No, Tony. S‘good. Let‘s not make this even more awkward than it already is. S‘been a hell of a day without you apologizing for something,“ Steve interrupted the billionaire.
„Who said I was going to apologize?“ Tony quipped and there was a hint of a smile around Steve‘s lips, his very pale, bloodless lips. God, was he pale, almost grayish, now that Tony looked closer at him.
„You feeling ok?“ Tony asked because he felt obligated to.
„We might be responsible for world destruction, Tony. No, not really,“ Steve answered and the fact he had said „we“ made Tony‘s face feel hot and sweaty.
„Yeah, I know. But there is nothing we can do right now. Bruce and Nat have headed to bed in the late afternoon already. Considering what happened to you, you should try to sleep as well. Actually eat and then sleep but you‘re a big boy,“ Tony almost lectured.
„Ok, Ma,“ Steve replied without any venom in his voice. He just bent down and took his combat boots off, having been out of his suit for a while already, wearing sweatpants, probably some of Barton‘s.
„Did you at least drink something?“ Tony asked while Steve delicately took his shirt off, the one that he had worn below his suit, the one that looked more or less sprayed on and Tony would have teased him about this habit for all eternity if it did not provide some of the best eye-candy on the team. What could he do, in the face of striking beauty you can only acknowledge such.
„Too tired,“ Steve mumbled while he slowly bent down to lie down on the bed, moving so slow it was almost comical but it also made clear that something was amiss. Had he been hurt, apart from the mind-assault?
„Well, yeah, tell that to your dehydrated body,“ Tony expressed a little on the angered side, with Steve being so neglecting. He got up and stumbled down the hall and downstairs to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, but found a bottle instead which would be much more convenient. Once back in the room, Steve had managed to get his aching body on the bed and just lay there, eyes closed already.
„Hey, Cupcake, drinking time,“ Tony exclaimed and threw the bottle at Steve‘s direction. The tired man‘s reflexes were strong enough to catch it and prevent his face from being smashed in but then he had to sit up again and that seemed to be a degree of hard Tony had not anticipated. Meanwhile the billionaire was back in bed as well, got the light blanket back over his body and just watched how Captain Sloth needed two tries to open his water bottle. Once that was done he was able to take a few gulps and then just put the bottle on the night stand next to him, not even bothering with closing it.
„Ok, ground rules, stay on your side, blanket hogs are kicked out of bed no matter the circumstances and any time you feel the need to snore, think again,“ Tony instructed and then looked closely at Steve again, who was back on his back and not moving a muscle, but another wave of trembling went through him and he just shook visibly for a moment from head to toe.
„You‘re sure you‘re ok?“ Tony asked carefully once more.
„Peachy,“ Steve mumbled and swallowed visibly but his breath was about to even out and Tony just had to accept that. They were all knackered and done in, they all needed sleep. So that was what they had to do now. It would be better in the morning. Hopefully.
~~~~~
Great, the fucking country life was making Tony soft. He was pretty sure, it was still the middle of the night, by now, at least completely dark outside. So whatever had been enough of a disturbance to break Tony out of his blissful oblivion, was not immediately sensible, while the man lay slightly confused in the strange bed and just listened to his surrounding. There was breathing, yes, Tony now recalled to have a bed partner tonight. A pretty hot bed partner, for talking out loud and the thought, being more like a mindless reflex for Tony when he thought of Steve’s over-perfect body, brought about the realization that Tony was sweating, his back almost drenched, the shirt sticking to his heated skin. And yes it was June and a pretty hot night but they also had the windows open and a slight breeze was sensible and Tony’s front was fine.
So, the reason, Tony was reminded of none-existent ACs in afghan caves must be lying behind him, the human furnace in super-soldier size. Tony turned around and saw Steve had barely moved from his spot, was still lying on his back and looked very deeply asleep. But the next moment the man shivered and chattered with his teeth and as much as Tony wanted to ignore this and just pretend everything was ok, he knew, he just knew, it wasn’t. No one being healthy was spreading warmth and shivered at the same time, there was no unconcerning explanation for that and Steve had been floppy and languid when he’d lain down and he was pale and yes, fuck, something was wrong with him.
So Tony got up and walked over to the other side of the room and switched the lamp on the book-shelf on. It was small and not very intense in contrast to the one on the night stand and only dimly lit the room, enough to see a bit more but not too much to tear Steve out of his sleep. So now Tony could take a look at his team mate and he had kind of expected this but it was shit anyway. Steve was obviously sick with something, his cheeks red as apples, glowing in the semi-darkness, he shivered still, but didn’t even roll up into a ball to consume warmth which confused Tony the most. If he recalled being so miserable correctly, he was pretty sure everyone tried to keep small and clammed together to fight the cold seeping into their bones from the fever.
And a fever this definitely was. Tony gently, very softly put the outside of his hand to Steve’s cheek, felt the heat before even touching the skin. It was more than he had expected and Steve’s skin was dry as bone. Not a single drop of sweat on his forehead. The man was absolutely boiling.
„Steve,“ Tony said softly, putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder and rubbing the joint a little to make the ill man come around. It took Steve a solid minute to react the way Tony intended and Steve was obviously confused, not completely aware of when and where they were right then.
„At Barton’s after the clusterfuck of Ultron became apparent,“ Tony provided before Steve could ask, seeing the man’s brow-wrinkle had become more prominent.
„What?“ Steve asked nonetheless and then winced, possibly because he sounded like a wreck.
„You’re running a pretty impressive fever, Cap. Did you get hurt?“ Tony asked then, trying to hurry things along. But Steve shook his head. „No fibbing, Cap. You’re burning alive right now.“
„No injuries,“ Steve repeated and then tried to sit up, clumsily, until his arms trembled too much to hold his weight and he sank back onto the bed and Tony felt his gut sinking. Something was wrong, something was really wrong.
„I’m getting Bruce,“ he announced but Steve held his arm, surprisingly strong for a dying man.
„No, he was attacked as well,“ Steve reminded and the way he said it made Tony think.
„You think this is because of what happened to you? Should I check on the others?“
„No, just let him sleep,“ Steve explained.
„Cap, you are really ill. We need to take a look at this, whatever it is,“ Tony insisted.
„Jus‘ tired, let me sleep, please,“ and it sounded so very very desperate, like a starving man asking for food, like a lost kid looking for shelter, just at the end of his rope.
„Don‘t think that‘s very prudent, c‘mon, Steve. If it were me, you wouldn‘t just let me sleep it off either. Not after what happened yesterday.“
Steve didn‘t counter this but squeezed his eyes up and tried to suppress another strong shiver. Jesus, the man had serious chills right there and Tony knew that meant the fever was still rising. He gripped the quilt from the floor that he had thrown off before going to bed and spread it over Steve‘s burning body.
„Honestly, you feel like on fire, let me at least get a read on that fever,“ Tony more like announced than asked and he went off to look for a measuring device.
He ended up in the second guest bedroom, tip-toeing into the bathroom, hopeful it was stocked with a medicine cabinet or something like that. Of course, it was never that simple. Only a few seconds after closing the door and switching the light on, he discovered there was nothing that would help his predicament. The fact that Natasha had not burst into the room and threatened to castrate him, was worrying him even more.
He tip-toed outside again, threw a glance at the two figures in the bed, both out cold, or at least pretending because Tony knew Natasha quite well by now. And so he left again, as quietly as he could and how in the hell did Steve do that, walking without a noise, Tony felt like a fucking elephant right now in that super-quiet house full of people who needed every minute of sleep they could get.
„Tony?,“ came the low voice of a woman from behind Tony and the billionaire grasped his chest and breathed deeply a few times to center himself again, by then Laura had come over to him, her round, pregnant shape buried in a long bathrobe.
„Do you need something?“ she asked carefully while approaching him even further and Tony made the quick executive decision that she was exactly what he needed right now.
„Matter of fact, I do. Do you have a thermometer, for body temperatures?“
„Do you feel ok? Are you falling ill?“ she asked, her mothering-tone kicking in twenty-fold, while swiftly feeling Tony‘s forehead with her knuckles and Tony spend a moment on reflecting how everybody seemed to have their very own way of checking temperatures. While Tony preferred the back of his hand to the cheek, he remembered his Dad had done the very classical palming the forehead thing, when Tony was small even with a combination of other hand to the neck, trapping Tony‘s head gently between both hands. It had felt grounding, solacing. And his mother, oh, she had used her lips sometimes but mostly she had taken both her hands to Tony‘s cheeks and then wandered back to his ears, massaging them a little. It had been bliss, to be honest.
„No, I‘m fine. Steve, though, is roasting. Need to know what we‘re dealing with here,“ Tony explained eventually and saw Laura nodding her head. She went back to the master bedroom, leaving Tony awkwardly in the hallway but only a moment later she came back with a kids-thermometer, the one you put in the ears.
„Always have it close at hand, hardly a week goes by without the monsters having a sniffle of some kind,“ she explained and they walked back into the guest room and Tony hoped she actually cleaned that thing otherwise reoccurring infections of the upper respiratory airways were easily explained.
„Steve,“ she asked gently, while taking a seat on the bed right next to Steve. The ill man stirred a little, opened his eyes for a moment but decided that interaction probably wasn‘t worth it and just closed them again, huffing tiredly.
„He is out of it,“ Laura said with a shake of her head while she activated the thermometer and took the measurement in a couple quick seconds, fast enough that the hand Steve brought to his ear didn‘t intervene with the whole event. Tony had positioned himself strategically next to Laura and was able to glimpse at the device when Laura read the display. He couldn‘t help but whistle at the number.
„103.8. Wow, Cap. That is fucking bad,“ Tony said additionally because, what the hell did that man think he was doing, getting deathly ill in a situation like that?
„What are his other symptoms?“ Laura asked then.
„No idea, he didn‘t complain about anything,“ Tony answered not really knowing how they were supposed to proceed from now on. Steve was not supposed to fall ill, the serum prevented it. The fact that he had, was disturbing, enough so that Tony went through organizing a hazmat-team and regional quarantine in his mind, while Laura felt Steve’s neck for the dangerous heat.
„Steve, do you have a serious headache? Neck pain or something like that?“ she asked the sick man while taking his head between both hands, gently turning it from one side to the other. Steve had opened his eyes a little and actually looked at her and Jesus, fucking Christ, was Steve kidding them? His eyes were glassy with fever, like he had cried for hours.
„No,“ the man whispered eventually, when Laura had finished her quick neck-exam.
„Stuffy nose, chest-congestion, anything that could amount to the flu?“ Laura went on.
„Throat‘s sore,“ the man answered tiredly and now Tony felt actually betrayed, so Steve had had something going on he hadn‘t just felt necessary to mention.
„Like bad? Strep-bad?“ Laura went on, switching the lamp on the night stand on.
„Like a bad cold,“ Steve provided but Laura looked at Tony expectantly.
„Hand me your phone, I need the light-function,“ she instructed and Tony knew there was not really any room to argue here. He rummaged his pants for the device and handed it over to Laura, lighting-function activated.
„Steve, open up,“ Laura said and again the ill man simply obeyed and so Laura shone the light at the back of Steve‘s throat, looking for whatever it was that might shed light on the fever burning through Steve‘s small stack of resources.
„Anything?“ Tony asked after a moment.
„Not really, slight inflammation, no sign of pus or inflamed tonsils,“ she explained, while giving the phone back the same moment, and now Tony thought of bacterial contamination on his phone and pussy throats and ugh.
„Steve? Do you think you might be able to take some Advil?“ she asked carefully, rubbing the ill man’s arm to comfort him. Again Steve opened his eyes a bit but he shook his head.
„It won’t work, his metabolism burns normal drugs too fast to have an effect,“ Tony explained.
„There is nothing you can give him?“
„We keep meds for his physiology in the Quinjet,“ Tony explained and Laura just kept her gaze on him, not even blinking. „For emergencies“ Tony added for good measure.
„Well, a fever pushing 104 is pretty bad, very uncomfortable. You don‘t think it might warrant your emergency medication?“
„No, yes, I mean, ..., it’s high dosed, IV-Medication. No pills or anything. Just one dose per syringe, knocks him out for eight hours. Might be overkill right now, or not?“
„Just get it, I take care of the dosage,“ she invited and Tony did not move. „Stark, I‘ve been a nurse for 14 years, I can recalculate pain med doses, trust me.“
And that kind of sealed the deal because Tony had to admit, Steve was absolutely miserable and he deserved at least a few hours of rest, real rest to fight whatever this was. And that way Tony went to fetch his shoes and put them on in the hallway, walked quietly down the stairs and outside and three minutes up to the Quinjet, rummaged through their med section for another five and then returned to the house only to find Barton standing in the hallway, in the door frame to the guest room to be concise.
„Some calf packs and meds, and he will be well enough to just sleep,“ Laura was about to explain and Tony saw what she was talking about when he entered the room. Laura had fetched cool compresses and dressed their leader‘s calves with them, as well as Steve’s carotid-area.
„You sure, I should not wake Bruce?“ Clint asked, as it seemed not for the first time.
„Let us try with the meds, if it‘s not below 101 then, we need to get him to a hospital anyway,“ she decided and then held her hand out for the medication and the syringe-kit Tony had brought.
„So one dose is eight hours?“ she verified and Tony nodded his head. She made a quick calculation and then disinfected Steve‘s inner elbow with the provided paper-towel of the kit. The med was administered in under thirty seconds after that and there was hardly any blood showing for it. Steve had not even stirred, and Tony recognize she must be really one of the good ones to do that so professionally.
„How much did you give him?“ Barton asked coming a little closer.
„Enough for four hours of relieve. Steve, wake up for second, you need to drink something,“ she reminded the sick man, who seemed to be only superficially dozing. She helped him get his head off the pillow and brought the bottle of water closer to him, now having a straw in it, possibly brought by Barton.
„Thank you,“ Steve mumbled while lying down again.
„No worries, just rest now. Tony will get you some water once in a while ok?“ Laura said gently and wiped over Steve’s fevered brow before getting up from the bed with the help of her husband.
„Take the temp again in twenty minutes, should be significantly down. And make him drink water regularly,“ She instructed Tony who only nodded his head because what was he supposed to do? Throw a tantrum that he was tired and wanted to sleep instead of taking care of Steve‘s hell fever?
„The cool packs can be taken away when the meds work,“ Laura added almost out of the door, when Barton turned around and got Tony’s attention.
„We gonna address this in the morning?“ he asked unsure of how to proceed.
„If he looks like hell by then, we don’t have any other option,“ Tony said in thought.
„What if not? What if he’s half-way alright?“ Barton asked in thought.
„We need to save the world, again. No time for the flu, I guess,“ Tony argued.
„Yeah, sucks. But you are right. We have bigger fish to fry. Still, we need to keep an eye on him. This could be worse than a wayward viral infection.“
„What is that?“ Tony asked, regretting the same instant he did.
„Well, considering what they all went through today, I’d bet this is a different kind of fever. And whatever happened today shook him to the core, I know it did with Tasha,“ and with that both Bartons left Tony with a really sick man to care for alone.
~~~~~
The actual morning came pretty fast for Tony, he wasn‘t sure how much sleep he did get after checking on Steve for another hour or so before lying down completely and drifting off to the sound of early birds singing in the distance. But Tony felt halfway decent in comparison to yesterday. The three or four hours of sleep might have been enough to put him back in the functioning-category.
So when Tony had taken a short and efficient, yes, everything under ten minutes is short, damnit, shower and was back in the guest room to grab his essentials, Iron Man-cuffs, phone, shoes, he threw a swift glance at the lump lying motionless in the bed, exactly where he‘d left him before going to the bathroom. Steve was apparently still out, and by now, looked much more comfortable and able to rest than in the middle of the night. He lay half on his side, half on his stomach, a little crammed together but not tightly. His breathing was soft and relaxed. What Tony could see of his face looked better than during the night, his cheeks back to the fair color of Steve’s complexion. He did have dark shadows under the one eye Tony could see but fighting a heavy fever would do that to you and Tony stepped closer for a moment, bending over the sleeping man, careful to not disturb him. He was tempted to feel the exposed cheek for a still elevated body temperature but refrained because he figured it would be much more effective to let Steve catch another hour or two of sleep before rousing him and throwing him back into their world-saving routine, he sure would dive back into the moment he was conscious again.
So Tony left him, walked out of the room on tip-toes, his boots not on his feet yet. He managed to get them on on his way down and when he entered the farm’s homey and spatial kitchen, he was not surprised to see Bruce up and about, making what looked like eggs for a whole High school grade, Natasha sitting at the kitchen table, having something suspiciously looking like coffee and yes, that would be Tony’s first task on this fine day, get some coffee, pronto.
So that‘s how they all ended sitting down, having eggs, toast and coffee, the Bartons, who seemed to have been up for several hours by then, somewhere in the house, but Clint joining the small group of Avengers after a few minutes. And they were quiet at first but slowly began to communicate pleasantries and how-are-you-feelings and any-idea-how-to-proceeds. They spent at least an hour like that, emptying two pots of coffee and eating their host out of two dozens of eggs and more than one loaf of bread. Tony made a mental note to get a serious amount of groceries delivered to Laura once they made sure mankind would survive all this, and while he contemplated if it would go overboard to order some Kobe meat for them, a bleeping in different pitches went through all of their communication devices to announce the ETA of someone, no one actually had on their radar right now.
Half an hour later Nick Fury was treated to the same breakfast and they were way on their way to hash out an actual plan, which might even work, Tony mused for a moment. And then Fury asked about Cap, which was weird now that Tony thought about it, that he hadn’t done so right from the start. So Tony fibbed a little when saying he was still sleeping off the exhaustion from yesterday and he was impressed with how well Barton had his facial expressions under control, but yes, the man was an assassin, it shouldn’t really come as a surprise.
So Tony offered to fetch the man in question, end his beauty sleep, as Fury put it. Tony flipped him an imaginary bird for that. Fury never had a very good idea of what Steve was actually able to deliver and what simply went too far, as demonstrated so clearly in the humble beginnings of their avenging, when he dragged a grieving, traumatized man into a war with aliens. The more Tony thought about it, the deeper went his aversion to the director and his disregard for human emotions. But sure Tony might not be much better, with how shitty he had been yesterday afternoon.
When Tony entered the bedroom he had spent the night in with Steve, he wasn’t overly surprised to see the bed empty, a little bit surprised that it was perfectly made, but only a little because they were dealing with perfect soldier Steve here. That moment he heard someone entering and saw Steve had obviously just used the shower down the hall, his hair damp still, the lower part of his suit was back on, with the upper part hanging down at the hips.
„Hey Tony,“ Steve greeted and then stepped around Tony to grab the too small, blue shirt from the chair he had left it on last night.
„Morning, how’re you feeling?“ Tony asked as neutrally as he managed and hoped it was coming across as sincere interest in knowing how the man was fairing after a night of a 104-fever.
„Ok for now. Sleeping helped,“ Steve answered before getting the shirt on. He sounded a little off to Tony though, meek, maybe a little hoarse too?
„Not great then?“ Tony tried to dig deeper.
„Okay enough to face the day, if that’s what you want to hear?“
„No, not really.“
And then they fell silent, Steve had meanwhile positioned himself on the foot of the bed, busy taking his shoes on, the bindings took a moment of attention because they were a lot.
„Fury is here,“ Tony explained then. „We have something resembling a plan, just waiting on you to throw your five cents into the debate.“
„Good, be down in a sec,“ Steve answered, his gaze still downwards to his boots, diligently working the binding.
„Hey,“ Tony tried one more time, his voice brimming with a tone of urgency that made Steve look up from his task and back at his friend and colleague. „You would tell us if something was still wrong with you? Can I take your temp once more? Just to be sure this, whatever it was, is fought down sufficiently?“
„Fever is down, Tony. I feel not great but once I ate something everything will be ok,“ Steve argued to make clear, the discussion about his health was over. Tony nodded for a second and then pressed down on his lips for a brief moment.
„Do you have any idea why you got that fever? I mean, you don’t get ill anymore, do you? Never mentioned it, so I assumed the serum prevents you from getting sick,“ Tony asked then and now Steve was back at his shoe-bindings, Tony saw him shrugging his shoulders a little bit, a distinct sign he had no intention to shed any light on what had made him feel like on death’s door in the middle of the night.
„Just, if this is something serious, we might have to take that into account, for your sake and everyone else’s,“ Tony went on.
„I’m ok Tony, I’m not contagious, if that’s what you’re afraid of.“
„No, I meant, ..., if this is a serious infection or something and we need you in good shape and...“
„Tony, I said it‘s ok. Don‘t worry about it, I will be able to do my job, if this was too big for me to fight and do what I am supposed to do, I would tell you,“ Steve countered, slight anger present in his tone. „This is not an infection, it wasn’t that kind of fever.“
„What do you mean?“ Tony asked, remembered that Barton had said something similar last night, implying the fever was a reaction to the assault Steve and Natasha had experienced. But Steve did not answer this question, he just finished with his shoes and then stood up from the bed, now facing Tony directly.
„Let’s deal with our main issue, ok?“ he suggested and Tony really looked at him for the first time that morning, straight into his face and he felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. Steve looked pale, his eyes were slightly glazed, red-rimmed, his lips had lost their color, he looked positively ashen and not like he was feeling right at all.
„I was an idiot yesterday, I, ..., no, actually I was an ass, so Steve, sorry if this made it even harder on you, which you will probably not admit right now, I get it. Your stoic act is just that, an act. Probably to protect yourself from, whatever, I have no idea what‘s going on with you because you never tell anyone, but I just wanted to say, sorry for poking you and, ....“
„TONY, drop this,“ Steve threw into Tony‘s prattling and his voice suggested Tony better do this right a way. But Tony was still Tony.
„Hey, I just meant, if you need to talk or anything, I have an open ear, ok? Whatever happened yesterday hit you like a brick and I just wanted you to know, it’s ok not to be perfect and shake things off just like that,“ Tony tried to reason, and saw Steve clenching his jaw, he looked like fighting so hard for control that moment that Tony kind of regretted his last words. But only kind of. The man needed to hear this, that it was ok to show his emotions once in a while. It‘s not 1945 anymore.
„It‘s not 1945 anymore.“
And for some reason that must have hit a nerve because Steve‘s face twisted into a frown and he stepped away from Tony, his hands in his hips walking up and down the small room for a moment before facing Tony again.
„I can‘t do this today, Tony,“ he began and it was obvious he was fighting his breathing down, making his inhales and exhales deeper and longer than normally.
„I didn’t, ...“
„No, I‘m serious, I cannot right now. I cannot stroke your ego and tell you how none of it is your fault and everything will be ok, and no one is mad at you for what you decided to do without any consultation beforehand. Because even though you might not know me very well, I know you. And every Stark-keynote has the same kind of purpose, make Tony Stark feel better about himself. And you fucked up, Tony, you fucked up spectacularly. But I am your Captain and I am your friend, and I am still here and will do everything in my power to fix this. I will take the responsibility for this, because that’s what my job is about and I will protect you and make sure you get out if this alive and intact, because that also is my job. But excuse me for not being able to hold your hand right now and tell you what a great person you are and give you absolution for your shortcomings and mistakes. Just. Not. Today. Ok?“
Tony had no idea where he was gonna start with that and how in the hell Steve had misinterpreted his attempt to find out about his personal state that thoroughly. But it was clear they would not be able to unravel all of that right this moment with a looming apocalypse on the horizon. So Tony pushed all the frustration-fueled comebacks down and just looked intently at Steve. Was the man shivering a little, was that the so well-kept hidden emotion or another fever coming on?
„Do me favor and take your temp? And if it’s over 101 let Laura give you some of your meds? I will get some epi from the quinjet and stack up in the suit, so when you need something in the course of the day, you come to me?“
Steve made no attempt to agree to this and just kept looking at Tony.
„Whatever this is, it’s not over yet, just, ask me for help if it’s getting out of hand?“ Tony tried once more. „Please?“
Steve clenched his jaw again and Tony was kinda glad the serum was protecting Steve‘s teeth from that habit, otherwise they would have a Captain with braces walking around the compound in the near future.
„Ok,“ the man whispered eventually. „Thank you for your help last night.“
„You should thank Laura for it, she did the majority of the work,“ Tony countered and even though it wasn‘t true he preferred Steve not to be too caught up about him loosing any sleep over taking care of him. The man did not need any more guilt than he could carry right now.
„Still, thank you,“ Steve repeated anyway.
„Sure, just take care of yourself, yeah? Get enough to eat now, we need you functional,“ Tony replied and what he actually meant was, we need you to feel ok, to not be in pain and suffering, because we love you and we don‘t want you feeling like hell. But that‘s not what he said and Tony was aware of that. But he couldn‘t change it, not for the life of him.