Chapter 8
“It’s been a year,” Steve breathes out. From the Tower’s helipad that Tony set up with a table and chairs for their date night, He can see the city lights blinking beautifully, the red taillights of cars moving idly through the streets, and the stars above them shining like bright pinpoints of hope. He can’t believe it’s only been a year since he first woke up to that Dodgers game in his ear and an entire lifetime lost.
He feels as if he’s spent lifetimes together with Tony – not all of it has been easy. They both have their fair share of nightmares, and sometimes Steve won’t be able to bring himself to talk to anyone, the pang of grief too heavy to bear. Therapy had helped, but they had fought fiercely when Tony tentatively suggested it after Steve spent ten sleepless nights in a row. Most of the time, though, it is easy, their rough edges slotting perfectly as they learn to give and to take and to share.
When Steve had first woken up, he had thought he’d never find anything close to the life he’d had before, but Tony had given him a home. And a starting point to build something new, something of their own.
Across the table, Tony smiles, shifting his legs so their ankles knock against each other. He doesn’t say anything, knowing that Steve still has something left to say.
“Thank you, Tony. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”
Luckily, the night isn’t too windy, and Tony can hear Steve’s words clearly. He struggles to find something to reply with, though, the depth of Steve’s sincerity still as frightening as it always was, and the way Steve looks in that blazer is very, very distracting.
“Steve, it’s – ”
“Sir,” JARVIS interrupts, his voice speaking through Tony’s phone, “Agent Coulson of SHIELD is on the line.”
“I’m not in,” Tony dismisses, wanting to get back to enjoying the moment, but at Steve’s small laugh, he adds, “I’m actually out.”
“Sir, I’m afraid he’s insisting.”
Shaking his head, Tony rolls his eyes. “Grow a spine, JARVIS. I got a date.”
“Yes, he does,” Steve agrees. He takes the bottle of champagne from the tray that Butterfingers is holding up and pours a generous amount into each of their glasses.
“This SHIELD snafu, this is all your fault, by the way,” Tony teases as he takes the glass from Steve, their fingers brushing. “You let the assassin twins in my private elevator.”
“Pepper’s elevator, you mean?” Steve shoots back, because he’s spent time reading the building’s lease. There was a better-left-unmentioned period when Steve had insisted on paying rent.
Tony makes a face. “Semantics. It still says Stark on the front. In the lobby, and,” he waggles an eyebrow, “in your pants.”
“As long as our next house says Rogers on the lease, I can deal with that,” Steve laughs, and Tony’s heart skips a beat. The way Steve so casually said next house, as if he’s already planning years and years ahead, it sends shivers of warmth through Tony.
He doesn’t get to enjoy it for long, though, because JARVIS is speaking again. “Sir, the telephone. I’m afraid my protocols are being overridden.”
And then, Coulson’s voice comes through the loudspeaker of Tony’s phone. “Mr Stark, we need to talk.”
Groaning, Tony takes his phone out of his pocket, holding it at arm’s length over the table. “You have the reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark.”
“This is urgent.”
“Then leave it urgently,” Steve beats Tony to the punch, obviously trying his hardest not to laugh.
“Oh good,” Coulson sounds pleased rather than annoyed, “the Captain is with you.”
Through the glass doors that lead to the helipad, Tony squints to see the elevator doors slide open. “Security breach,” he announces, throwing his hands in the air before waggling a finger at Steve, who’s already standing up, “this is all your fault.”
Steve looks unimpressed. He holds out his hand expectantly, waiting until Tony takes it with a grumble. “Fine. But I get to decide what to do in bed tonight.”
“As if you don’t like following my orders in bed,” Steve winks and Tony blanches. They walk indoors together, where Coulson waits with a SHIELD tablet and a forced smile.
“Official consultation hours are between 8 to 5 every other Thursday,” Tony greets the man. Coulson gives him a stern look, turning instead to Steve.
“Captain. It’s an honor to meet you,” Coulson holds out a hand for Steve to shake, and Steve lets go of Tony’s hand to do so.
Tony scowls, snatching the tablet from Agent’s hand, twirling it open. The symbol for the Avengers Initiative fills the screen before it morphs into the profiles of each member. At the very center: the Tesseract. “I thought I didn’t qualify,” Tony mutters, “and I’m not letting SHIELD near any of my tech.”
“We need you, Mr Stark. The Tesseract’s been taken and we have trouble tracing it.”
Steve moves to stand behind Tony, trying to read whatever information they have. “What do you mean taken?” he sharply asks.
“An Asgardian god took it, Captain. Agent Barton was compromised,” Coulson explains. “We need both of you.”
Tony only needs one glance at Steve to know what the answer is, and he sighs internally. He’d been looking forward to spending a night just celebrating and relaxing. Evidently and literally, however, the gods think otherwise.
“I need to call a friend for this,” he announces, because while he is a genius, he can’t do everything alone, and it’s high time Steve met the other crazy scientist in the family.
Coulson nods. “We know. He’s already en route to our helicarrier.”
Steve wraps an arm around Tony to turn him away from the tablet and towards Steve – Coulson pointedly clearing his throat and looking away – Tony can see the shadows in Steve’s eyes, as clearly as he can also see the conviction and regret there.
“Raincheck on that dance?” Steve suggests.
Tony takes Steve’s hand back into his and squeezes. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Doctor Banner,” Steve greets, and Bruce glances between Steve and Tony, frowning for a second before smiling ruefully. Tony winks. Bruce sighs.
“They told me you were coming, Captain – no, Tony,” Bruce chides, doing nothing to stop Tony’s playful grin, “have you been treating Tony well?”
Steve takes Bruce’s outstretched hand. “I try my best. Word is you can help Tony find the Tesseract?”
“Is that the only word you’ve heard of me?”
“That,” Steve admits, “and how loudly you snore when you sleep.”
Bruce laughs.
They bring Loki in. They don’t find Clint, but they find Thor.
They don’t find the Tesseract either.
“You should go back to the Tower with Bruce,” Steve walks into the helicarrier’s lab. His stance is firm, and he’s determined to keep Tony safe. If Loki is on this ship, there’s always a chance he could break out, and therefore a chance that Tony could get hurt.
He also wants Tony far, far away from the sceptre.
Tony, unfortunately, doesn’t seem to see it from Steve’s perspective. “Relax, dear. We’ll be fine.” He pokes Bruce’s arm with an electric stick, “I have big green here to protect me.”
“Take a jet. Fly back home. You can run the tracing algorithms with JARVIS’ servers,” wearily Steve tells Tony. Getting into a fight with a thunder god had not been on Steve’s agenda today, and despite his accelerated healing, he’s sore and tired and scared for Tony. “You’re a civilian. This shouldn’t be your fight.”
“I’m sorry,” Tony steps around the table to stand in front of Steve, crossing his arms across his chest and covering the light spilling out from the reactor under his shirt. “Are you calling me weak? Are you seriously thinking I’d leave you? Just because I don’t have some magic serum in me, doesn’t mean I can’t defend myself.”
That is miles away from Steve’s point. He knows Tony is the opposite of weak. He simply doesn’t want Tony anywhere near the center of this fight. “I know that, Tony, but – what’s that?” he points at the screen in next to Tony that’s certainly not showing the Tesseract.
“That’s my decryption for SHIELD’s files. I hacked into their mainframe,” Tony spins the screen around so they can both see it better. Behind it, Bruce is peeking at them from under his classes, obviously trying very hard to avoid the confrontation.
Steve takes a deep breath. It doesn’t work to calm him down. “Can you stop your vendetta against SHIELD for one moment, Tony? Find the Tesseract and get out of here as fast as you can.”
“This is running together with the tracking algorithm, Steve,” Tony spreads his arms wide, as if that explains anything. “In a few minutes we’ll find the Cube and know every dirty little secret in this place.”
“We don’t need a distraction. Not right now, Tony,” Steve barely stops himself from growling. Why is he angry all of a sudden? He’s never been this annoyed by any of Tony’s antics, and yet, for some inexplicable reason, he feels the need to lash out and drill into Tony that he’s wrong about this. “I trust SHIELD as much as you, but this is not the time to try and stop their efforts to save the world.”
“Yeah, and what about the fact that the only reason the world needs saving is because they were the ones to do the destruction?” Tony challenges. From the corner of Steve’s eye, he sees the sceptre glow brighter.
Is this why Tony’s doing this? Because of some trauma and regret that he’s never managed to get over? Steve thought Tony was better than this, that Tony cared more about the lives at stake. “Not everything’s about you, Tony,” he lashes out, because why doesn’t Tony understand? There’s only one important thing right now, and it’s to get Tony off the ship. “You – ”
“Boys.”
The door slides open, Natasha walking in, Fury and Thor behind her. “What are you doing, Mr Stark?” Fury glares, one hand on his hip.
“Kind of been wondering the same thing about you.”
“You’re supposed to be locating the Tesseract,” Fury sternly reprimands. For once, Steve agrees with Fury, but, as they so often do, the words bounce off Tony.
Surprisingly, it’s Bruce who speaks up, Tony growing increasingly smug with every word from Bruce. “We are. The model’s locked. We’re sweeping for the signatures now. When we get a hit, we’ll have the location within half a mile.”
“Yeah. Then you get your Cube back. No muss, no fuss,” Tony glibly dismisses. The screen next to Steve and Tony lights up red. “What is Phase Two?”
It doesn’t take a certified genius to figure out the blueprints that are now spread across the screen. “Phase Two is SHIELD uses the Tesseract to make their own weapons,” Steve concludes for them all, feeling a dread grow.
Tony throws his hands in the air. “Now you’re on board with me, honey?”
“Rogers,” Fury stops them before they can bicker any further, “we gathered everything related to the Tesseract, this does not mean that we’re making – ”
“I’m sorry, Nick,” Tony brings up one of the designs, pulling the screen around for everyone to see, “what were you lying?”
“Did you know about this?” Bruce steps forward, voice dangerous.
Natasha breaks her silence. “Do you want to think about removing yourself from this environment, Doctor?”
“Oh,” Bruce laughs, and if Steve hadn’t known, he knows now why Tony considers Bruce a friend. “I was in Calcutta. I was pretty well removed.”
“Loki’s manipulating you.”
Bruce smiles, cruel and sharp. “And you’ve been doing what, exactly?”
There’s something wrong in the air, Steve realises, Bruce’s words fading in the background as he tries to understand. Thor is speaking now, about higher forms of war, and Steve’s head is throbbing, his anger churning with his worry, and everything’s too loud and –
“Why shouldn’t the guy let off a little steam?” he hears Tony throw at Fury.
No, Steve thinks. This stops now. “Back off, Tony. Stop trying to be a hero, and go home.”
“A hero?” Tony spits back at him, “like you? Everything special about you came out of a bottle.”
Steve turns to really look at Tony. They argue a lot – but it’s always been more bickering than a fight, never like this. The gentle fondness that had been in Tony’s eyes last night is gone, replaced with a bitter coldness that twists something deep in Steve. Everyone else is shouting around them, voices rising even as the throbbing in Steve’s head grows.
“Big suit of armor,” he can’t stop the words from spilling out, its meaning twisted into the opposite of what he wants to say, “take that off and what are you, Tony?”
“Genius, billionaire, philanthropist. I’d add boyfriend, but I’m really not feeling it, dear,” Tony hisses, smacking at Steve’s arm. They stare at each other, tension crackling, their shoulders tight and defensive.
Somewhere beside them, Thor scoffs. “You humans are petty, and tiny.”
“Sorry kids, you don’t get to see my party trick after all,” Bruce puts down the sceptre as the computer at the other side of the lab beeps, triangulating the location they need. The rough coordinates appear, and –
“I can get there fastest,” Tony says above the din of everyone else.
Steve grabs his arm, tight and firm. “You’re not going alone.”
“You gonna stop me?”
“Put on the suit and let’s find out,” Steve challenges right back, wanting more than anything to have Tony protected. Tony is a civilian, this shouldn’t be his fight.
“I’m not afraid to fight an old man.”
The words sting more than Steve wants to admit.
“Put on the suit.”
And then, an explosion hits them.
Steve curls himself around Tony, throwing them away from the blast, and they land heavily on their sides, their breaths panting and eyes wide. Somewhere past the broken window, the Hulk roars, angry and violent.
By some unspoken truce, they nod at each other and shelve their argument, helping each other to their feet.
“Put on the suit,” Steve orders, his tongue curling at the taste of those words, so different from how he’d said it seconds ago.
“I made one for you, too,” Tony nods again, factual and all business. At Steve’s confused look, he adds wryly, “I’m not letting you fight your battles in spandex, Steve, no matter how lovely your ass looks.”
Just like that, the two of them slot back into place, Steve knowing exactly what Tony means, even if he doesn’t quite understand. It’s jarring, how quickly they lost their footing and found it again, but Steve’s too preoccupied with the fact that despite having been thrown by the explosion, the throbbing in his head is gone.
Letting Tony lead, he follows behind.
Already, the bitterness from their fight is fading away, and in its wake, Steve wonders when exactly it was that Tony found the time to design an entire uniform for him.
There’s one thing that Steve understands, though, and he says it to make Tony smile. “You probably made a suit that frames my ass better.”
“You betcha, Cap,” Tony grins over his shoulder.
Letting some of the tension slide off his own shoulders, Steve lengthens his strides to walk next to Tony.
There will be time for apologies later.
For now, they have an engine to fix.