Chapter Five
"I'm fine, Bruce!" Steve listened as Tony complained about being checked over, watching from the side. After his talk with Clint last night, he knew he needed to apologize. He had known he needed to apologize since Tony collapsed right in front of him. He just didn't know how to approach the man.
Tony was his second in command, even if that wasn't official. He always said he wasn't a good team player, but seeing him on the field told a completely different story. Even before they had bonded, Tony worked with the team well. The teamwork had only increased since Clint pulled the first prank and started a playful war between Avengers.
Even if he didn't know it himself, Tony was the glue between Avengers. He mediated arguments with humor, used well times jokes to defuse rising tensions, and got angry in that scary way when any of the others were insulted (Tony only flashed a grin when he himself was insulted, which caused a surge of protectiveness in Steve) and when Steve said scary, he meant terrifying. He went from happy go lucky to cold with undercutting words in just a second.
Those were just a few ways Tony helped the team; there was so much more he did. Such as the legal things that Steve couldn't wrap his head around. So the captain did the SHIELD paperwork while Tony handled the money, the damages, the paparazzi, the news crews, interviews, team image, and other things. Steve had no clue how he did it, but he was extremely thankful for what he did.
And how did he thank him? By not noticing he was sicker than a dog, held down by the weight of the blame he placed on himself, and suffering from night terrors. Steve was more observational than someone might guess when off the battle field, and last night he had a lot of time to think. It was then that he realized how different Tony had been acting and kicked himself mentally multiple times. He'd been so concerned about Bucky and Hydra that he'd ignored one of his best friends.
Yes, he thought it. Tony was one of his best friends. They started off as rivals, yet now Steve couldn't imagine life without Tony there. His teamate, his friend, his confidant.
He didn't know how to approach the secret of knowing that something else happened to Tony's parents. He had his suspicions of who had done it, but it was a definite fact that Howard and Maria Stark did not die because of an accidental car crash. He needed to tell Tony, but how? He'd kept this secret, waiting for the right time and insisting Natasha not say a word because he wanted to do it himself.
It had been three months since he found out. How was he supposed to tell him now?
Man up and be a best friend, that's how.
He hardly noticed when Clint came to stand beside him, only reacting with an eyebrow raise when his friend leaned gestured for him to lean down a little. He did so and Clint whispered in his ear: "Take him to the barn. He'd be more comfortable there and I think a little fresh air might do him some good. Also, has anyone told you that you are way too tall?"
Steve couldn't help but smirk a little at the comment as Clint walked away. He noticed that Bruce was done examining Tony. He walked over, smiling nervously. "Hey Tony," he said.
"Mornin' capsicle," Tony said with a lazy smile, his feet propped up on the coffee table. To anyone else, he would look completely relaxed, but Steve could see the minuscule tension between his shoulders that he was trying to hide and the way he couldn't look him on the eyes for very long.
"I was hoping I could talk to you.... alone?" He stated the word as more of a question, stuffing his hands in his pockets momentarily. Tony hummed and then stood, swaying slightly. Steve instinctively put his hand on his shoulder to steady him and the genius didn't knock it away.
"Where to?" Tony asked, glancing at him. His face was still pale and with his enhanced abilities Steve could hear Tony's lungs working overtime to try and clear out the offending sickness.
"The barn?" He suggested. "Some good air will do you wonders." Tony nodded and they headed out after Tony pulled his shoes on, Steve's hand still on his shoulder. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing. Steering him? Steadying him? Either way, he didn't move his hand and Tony gave no indication he wanted him to.
The morning sun was warm on their faces and he could see the way Tony's mood seemed to lift a little bit and he looked like he enjoyed the sunlight. Clint was right, fresh air would do him some good.
They made it to the barn without incident and Tony moved from his hand to look around. Steve watched him examine old engines and tools for a few minutes before speaking. "I want to apologize for what I did yesterday. You were clearly not doing well and I didn't notice. As team leader and your friend, I should not have spoken to you in the tone I used and it was really mean of me." The words flowed out of him before he had a chance to think about what he was saying. He calmed his mouth shut and stuffed his hands in his pockets once more.
Tony's expression did something strange. It went from being startled, to confused, then acceptance. He nodded and walked over. "I forgive you, Steve. I know we were all a little tense."
Steve shook his head. "Yeah, I was tense and frustrated Tony, but I had no right to take it out on you. There was no reason for me to get angry with you. I should have noticed something was wrong instead. I'm sorry."
Tony tilted his head and nodded once more. "Alright, Steve. I forgive you. I really do. Now, could we get back to the house? I'm hungry." He started to move around him, but the taller man stopped him.
"There's something else I need to tell you. Something I should have said the moment I got to talk to you again."
Tony froze, his eyes calculating and confused. He stepped back away from Steve, standing in front of him. He slowly crossed his arms, expression a mix of fearful and curious. "What is it?" he asked after the silence dragged on for a minute. Steve moved words are in his mouth, trying to figure out the right way to phrase what he wanted to say, but was there really a right way? He was about to tell his friend that his parents had been murdered by Hydra and that he'd known.
"Do you remember the data dump?" He blurted out.
The genius raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, of course I do. That was one heck of a mess. I was swamped for days with calls and trying to save valuable personal information of good SHIELD agents and their families. I still don't understand why you didn't call me if something fishy was going on with SHIELD. I'm am expert on getting through their firewalls. I could have told you anything you needed to know before going into such a dangerous situation," Tony berated him. Steve could only nod.
This was why Tony was his second in command. He knew how to tell him off when he was wrong, and he also knew the tech and buisness side of the Avengers far, far better than Steve did. "I know. I screwed up. I should have called you," he said earnestly.
Tony nodded in confirmation, shoulders sagging just a little. The spiel had visibly drained him quite a bit, but there was no way he could suggest they drop whatever else he needed to tell him when Tony already knew there was something they needed to talk about. "I think you need to sit down," he said, guesturing toward the crate nearby.
"No, I don't."
"Tony, you do. Not just because you're sick, but because of what I need to tell you. You're going to want to be sitting, so sit." He practically begged. Tony hesitated, then complied.
"Steve, what exactly do you need to tell me?" His friend asked, brown eyes trained on him.
He took a deep breath and slowly began to explain. He started with what exactly happened to James Barnes as he hadn't yet had enough courage to talk about everything with his teamates. Natasha may have been there, but she hadn't seen some of his interactions with Bucky. Tony listened intently, head tilting the the side at times like he wanted to ask a question, but he held his tongue.
"But there was something else we learned, Tony, and it's really hard to say. I should have told you as soon as I knew and there's no excuse that I didn't." He drew in a deep breath. "Your parents..." he paused as he saw Tony stiffen a little. "... the crash was staged, Tony, and it wasn't the impact that killed them. It wasn't..." he broke off, wiping at his face.
"What did?" Tony asked, eyes frantic for an explanation. Steve composed himself the best he could because his friend needed to know and it was wrong to leave him in suspense like this. He wasn't telling a horror story around a campfire or thinking up a mystery novel plot, this was reality. A horrible reality.
"Hydra sent out an assassin and... I haven't gotten any proof, but I think... I think it was the Winter Soldier," he finally got out. He felt a mixture of relief at getting it off his chest, but also felt like the ground should swallow him whole and never spit him back out again. He watched the unguarded emotions swirling in Tony's eyes, from surprise, to realization, to hurt, to anger. Brown eyes burned with fire that Steve knew was only a defense.
Tony stood up, swaying a bit. With shock or sickness, Steve didn't know, but he did know that when he reached out to steady him instinctively, his hand was slapped away. "Don't touch me," Tony said through gritted teeth. Steve held his hands up in surrender, his body sagged with emotions. He needed to help his friend, but he didn't know how. Could he call himself Tony's friend anymore? He had kept such a big secret. He had betrayed him.
The genius had been betrayed far too many times. Steve remembered when he first learned of the betrayal of Obadiah Stane and he had swore to himself to never be another betrayal. He had broken his oath. He remembered berating Tony for keeping the secret of Ultron.
What a hypocrite he was.
"You've known for months," Tony began with a voice full of cold, hard anger. "You've kept this from me, Steve. I have been funding these searches, not knowing you were going after my parents'-" he broke off and Steve could see the anger ebbing away to pure hurt in the brunette's eyes. "You knew and- and you didn't tell me." The words were broken up and there were now tears in his eyes.
After a moment of silence, Steve spoke. "I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so, so sorry. There's no excuse for what I've done to you and I'm sorry. I could say it a million times, but I know that it won't change what I did." He got no response, but he didn't expect one. "I'll do whatever it takes to mend our friendship, unless you don't want to..." the silence was heavy and Steve forced himself to keep looking at Tony.
"I get to punch you once in the suit, then we're even," Tony said in a choked voice.
"Done," Steve said. He knew it would take far more than that to fix what he broke, but it was a start. It was a sign that not all was lost. He held out his arms hesitantly, because Tony looked like he was about to fall apart. The emotion of this conversation and his sickness was a horrible combination.
The genius stepped forward and practically fell into his arms, pressing his face into his shoulder. Steve held him up because that was what friends, brothers, did. He didn't comment when he started to shake with repressed sobs or when a wet spot began to form on his sleeve, just held him comfortingly. But he did comment when Tony's head shifted and his forehead touched the skin around Steve's neck. He was burning up, similar to when he collapsed the day before.
"Tony, you're burning up," he stated the obvious, gently pulling the genius away from him a bit. His friend resolutely kept his head down, probably to hide the tears that were undoubtedly covering his cheeks. He watched Tony rub at his eyes for a moment, then the blonde pressed his hand to his forehead, reassessing his temperature. "Look at me," he said gently, but urgently. Tony looked up and Steve could see that his red-ridden eyes were dull and unfocused.
Tony suddenly pitched forward and Steve caught him once more before lowering him down to sit on the crate again. His head lolled onto his shoulder while he leaned against him, eyes fluttering a bit. Brown eyes looked around lazily and Steve noticed that his breaths had started coming far shorter than they should be and he could hear the wheeze in his lungs. Steve searched for his phone in his pocket, but cursed loudly when he didn't find it.
"Language," Tony croaked and Steve found himself cracking a small smile. If he was able to make a joke, then he wasn't on death's door.
"Sorry, just slipped out." He said back in his most serious tone, but he could tell Tony knew he was joking by the way that familiar cheeky smile came onto his pale face. The smile left after a moment and the man blinked, eyes looking somewhere else as he said. "Cooper?"
At the name of Clint's son, the captain looked over and saw the young boy standing off toward the wall, frozen in place. Steve hadn't seen him cone in through the front door, so he nust have came in through the back. "Cooper," Steve called. "Go get Clint and Bruce."
The young boy was immeadiately running out the doors, leaving them swinging as he sprinted off to the house. Steve looked back and felt his heart drop when he saw Tony's eyes were now closed, one hand settled over his chest and face pinched in fear and pain. "It's going to be okay, Tony." He whispered, pulling him toward him and raising him up a bit more, hoping that would make it easier to breathe.
"Obadiah..."
"He's not here, Tones. I promise. He can't get you. I'm right here." He said and watched as some of the fear drained away. Steve continued to tell him how safe he was, hoping that their friends were on their way and that they would hurry up. The genius sounded worse than he had been and the word 'pneumonia' came to mind.
His mother had died of that, he thought as his hold became more protective, as if he could fend off the sickness as if it was a physical being.
His mom. Bucky. Peggy. So many people were gone from his life. He would not lose another. Not if he could help it.