The Mismatched Beating of Our Hearts
Day 250
Tony has finally been released from Rhodey’s maternal clutches, in part because Rhodey’s been called back for duty that he can’t delay any longer. It was surprising to walk back to his lab, where Bruce, Helen, Natasha and Peggy prepared a small blueberry cake to celebrate. There are also flowers, get well soon cards and teddy bears piled on top of his table, turning his small mess into a giant one. He had asked for the flowers and bears to be sent to the children’s ward, but it was a turnaround he didn’t understand.
When Tony had left for the airport, almost the entire staff had been cold and even hostile against him. Peggy hesitantly told him about Steve explaining to everyone the truth, and how Steve had publicly and personally put himself on probation by the hospital’s rules for his violent outburst.
A long, serious talk with Rhodey had forced Tony to admit that he was willing to forgive Steve, but the hurt and the horror meant that he wasn’t ready to do so just yet. Knowing that Steve was trying to mend things, while not enough to earn Tony’s forgiveness yet, was enough to gratify Tony.
So, when the doors to his lab slide open a few hours later, Tony doesn’t flee when he sees Steve. Well, he doesn’t flee because he sees Peter, too.
The boy hovers uncertainly at the entrance instead of barging in as usual, and it makes Tony ache.
“Come in, Peter, I got your letter, and you’re very convincing in getting me to wake up and stay.”
Only then does Peter smile wide, letting go of Steve’s hand to rush at Tony, stopping just inches away. “Will it hurt you if I hug you, Mr. Dad Tony?”
“No, as long as your dad’s fine with it, I would love to be hugged.”
It might be unnecessarily cruel for Tony to dig at Steve like that, and as Steve winces and averts his gaze, Tony does feel a twinge of guilt, but Tony has always met confrontation head on, protecting himself with sharp words to hide from his own hurt.
The twinge of guilt quickly fades away, though, at the two arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Closing his eyes, Tony curls himself downward to wrap his arms around Peter, treasuring the chance.
“You’re not going to leave?” Peter asks, his voice muffled against Tony’s shirt.
“No, someone’s got to make sure you don’t build an army of robots,” Tony grins as he feels Peter laugh.
Opening his eyes, Tony feels his smile turn into a frown. Steve is still standing just outside the door, looking extremely uncomfortable. Tony doesn’t want to have to talk with Steve, but it irks him to see Steve shuffling and fidgeting like that. “Make up your mind, Rogers. Come in or don’t, I don’t care. Just stop keeping the doors open.”
Steve’s eyes widen in something close to fear that Tony doesn’t understand. “I’ll, uh, I’ll come by to pick Peter up in an hour.”
And he leaves, bolting down the hall with a speed that both confuses and surprises Tony.
Peter pulls away, tugging at Tony’s hand to get his attention. “Dad’s been sad because I’m still angry at him for making you leave.”
That’s not what Tony expects Peter to say, and it hurts because Tony’s torn a rift between Peter and the father he adores so much. No matter how many misgivings Tony has about Steve now, it’s never been a question that Steve has been good to Peter.
“You should forgive him,” Tony gently tells him. Whatever fights he still has with Steve, Peter shouldn’t be caught in between, being forced to take sides or choose. Tony knows well enough the lasting pain of that. “He only did it because he loves you – he was wrong in how he showed it, but the reason is still that he loves you so much.”
“If you say so,” Peter doubtfully relents.
Tony smiles as best as he can, pulling Peter back in for another hug so the little boy won’t see the grief Tony can’t find the strength to hide. “I am a genius, my ideas are the best, you should listen.”
When Peter’s laugh rumbles against his skin, Tony finds that it isn’t really that hard to smile along. And then Tony learns about all the corners Bitsy has travelled to in the past month, and for a while, Tony lets himself hope that there’s some light at the end of this tunnel.
Day 251
“I thought I’d come by with a peace offering,” Steve blurts out as he stands in the doorway after Tony stares at him for a long minute. “I wanted to apologize, if you’ll allow me to. But if you don’t, I’ll just, uh, leave the coffee here.”
Raising an eyebrow, Tony asks flatly, “and if I don’t want anything from you?”
Steve takes a step back, his face pinching, “then you have every right to tell me to go away.”
“Come back tomorrow,” Tony says, “I’m not in the mood.”
There’s that kicked puppy look on Steve’s face that Tony has never been able to resist, and contrary to popular belief, Tony wants this over with. He wants to get on with life, to figure out the next step and move on from this weird place they’re stuck in. But Tony is trying to be responsible and – to his friends’ ultimate shock and pride – emotionally mature. He’s not ready to do this today.
Still, Tony can’t help but call out to Steve’s retreating back:
“Leave the coffee here!”
Day 252
As expected, Steve is back, with a fresh cup of hot coffee and a contrite look. When Tony invites him in, he settles in his usual chair, meekly placing the cup on the table and nudging it towards Tony as he hunches in on himself, as if trying to become smaller.
It’s unbearably silent.
Tony picks up a bolt, twirling it in his fingers, unable to bear the stillness, and asks, “so?”
Steve clears his throat, eyes darting around the room skittishly before settling on Tony’s. “I’m sorry. I overreacted, assumed things I shouldn’t have, and took my fears out on you.”
“Yeah, not cool,” Tony mutters, scratching the back of his neck. The sincerity of Steve’s words is undeniable, and yet, “what do you want, Steve?”
“To apologise, and if you – if you ever do accept it, then maybe to be friends, colleagues, whatever you want it to be.”
Okay, Tony thinks, he can work with that. It’s amicable, and should work for whatever arrangement Peter and Steve have sorted out with each other about spending time with Tony. And, in the spirit of being emotionally mature, Tony concedes, “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have hidden from you. I’ve been told that communication isn’t my forte, and when Peter showed me his doll… well, I don’t think anyone would’ve known what to do.”
Steve looks down, his fingers twisting over each other as he bites his lip. “You weren’t wrong to be scared of what I’d do. I’m sorry.”
“I, uh, I’m working on forgiving you. Might take a while, but I’ll get there, eventually,” Tony mumbles, uncomfortable. He puts the bolt down and trades it for a screwdriver, turning it over and over in his palm.
Again, Steve clears his throat. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again. I want – I miss you, not just all the kissing, but being your friend, talking and listening to you and learning how to really live through your crazy impulses – but looking back, I realise I was too caught up in the easiness that I was scared to look deeper, that I was scared you’d go even deeper in me and you wouldn’t like what you’d find. And I pushed you away because I was scared, too.”
Tony doesn’t know what to do with those words, his thoughts are shorting out even as Steve continues, “and as much as I miss you, you deserve better than to be with someone you’re scared of.”
“Wait,” Tony blurts out, incredulously, indignantly, “are you breaking up with me again? And I’m not scared of you.”
Steve shakes his head, “you flinched. When I reached out to put the cup on the table, you flinched.”
Tony had forgotten how well Steve knows him, how impossible it was to hide from Steve’s knowing eyes. Something in him wants to snap out at Steve, unwilling to admit to this weakness, this old fear that’s been dug up to the surface. “Was it Sam or Barnes who taught you how to apologise?”
A twisted pleasure bubbles in Tony as he watches Steve bristle – it turns into shame soon enough, though, as he can see Steve visibly reining himself. “Charles did. Look, I know you need time, because I know I won’t ever forgive myself for lashing out at you. If you want me to leave, I’ll leave. If you want to see Peter, I’ll arrange it. If hurting me back helps you, go ahead, but not in front of Peter.”
“Who’s Charles?” Tony asks because he doesn’t know how else to respond.
A flush creeps up Steve’s cheeks. Just a month ago, Tony would have delighted in it, kissing it to make it grow. Now, it confuses Tony.
“Doctor Xavier. I didn’t want to, uh, tell you like this because it’s not an excuse, not a trick to get you back, but Sam made me realise I haven’t really dealt with losing my Ma, or losing my comrades in the 108th Army Division. I’ve been using Peter as a distraction, focusing too much on him that I didn’t see what I was doing to myself, to my friends, to you.” Steve looks up, sighing heavily as he closes his eyes. “And I was also scared that if people found out about my flashbacks they’d take Peter away for a better father. I took that out on you. I don’t want to do that again. And, again, I’m sorry.”
It’s humbling and shocking all at once. Tony knows how hard admitting to needing help can be, and how much harder getting the help can be. So, while it still isn’t enough to heal Tony’s wounds, it is enough for Tony to truly believe that Steve is willing to work for whatever future lies ahead of them. That Steve’s sorry means more than just words, more than the useless apologies of men like Howard or Tiberius.
And that… that’s something.
“Alright, a truce,” Tony tells Steve, finally putting down the screwdriver in favour of taking a sip from the cup of coffee, sweet and bitter and warm. “Keep bringing me this stuff and you can keep coming here.”
The smile that Steve gives is disbelieving but bright, and even if they still have a long way to go, Tony thinks the future might not be as dreadful as he feared.