Rejoin
When the plane touched down on American soil, Steve wasn’t sure what he felt. Numb, maybe? In shock?
Guilty?
He glanced around the cabin, gauging the moods of the rest of the team. Scott and Clint looked the most eager; both had been talking nearly non-stop about how excited they were to see their kids again since they’d received the news. Sam looked pleased but pensive, and Steve knew from a couple of heart-to-hearts post-Wanda that the man was still bothered by what had happened with Colonel Rhodes. Natasha was harder to read, her face blank as she grabbed her bag from an overhead compartment. Bucky was similarly stoic, though he gave Steve a small smile when he noticed Steve’s gaze.
“It’s gonna be alright, Stevie,” Bucky whispered softly to him, and Steve tried to smile in return. It was rare, seeing the softer side of his Bucky. Hydra had put so much in his mind, had stolen so much of his life, that the Bucky Steve knew came through mostly in brief glimpses. The rest of the time, his old friend was quieter, more observant, harder than his Bucky had ever been. Steve was careful not to pressure Bucky to feel like Steve expected him to be his old self; he’d been in a war, he’d seen what that did to people – he knew Bucky could never be the same man he’d been, not after 70 years as a POW. Steve was just happy that he had his friend back in any form.
“I know,” Steve lied. He had no doubt the former-assassin could hear the lie, but Bucky only nodded in easy acquiescence.
They disembarked the plane in relative silence, stepping onto the rooftop of the Compound, small bags of the possessions they’d accumulated over the past two years flung over a shoulder. A stern-looking woman in a business suit was waiting for them, briefcase in hand, as they strode closer.
“Welcome, Avengers,” she said formally when they came to a stop in front of her. “My name is Carrie Hale, and I’ll be your liaison to the Accords council. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you settled back into the Compound.”
And with that, she turned and walked away, heels clicking as she crossed to the rooftop door. Steve glanced at the rest of the team then followed, the group trailing behind.
“There have been some renovations since you were last here,” Carrie was saying as they caught up, swiping her key card and pulling the door open. The Rogues followed after, entering the Compound for the first time in two years one after another. Steve glanced around, searching out changes but noting that most everything looked the same so far. As they moved deeper into the Compound, however, it became apparent that some facets of the Compound had been shuffled around. “Some of the residential areas have been repurposed for training grounds or laboratories. There are two common areas for team members to congregate while off-duty and three conference rooms for any official meetings,” Carrie continued as she led them through, weaving in and out of hallways until Steve felt a bit like a rat in a maze. She finally came to a stop outside of a room surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass walls, inside which was a large oval table and chairs. “We’ll be using this conference room for today,” Carrie finished, swiping her key card to open the door and gesturing for the Rogues to enter.
Steve walked in first, picking a seat on one side of the table, Bucky taking the seat to his right and Natasha the seat to his left. The other Rogues filed in, settling quickly around the table. Carrie came in last, shutting the door behind hair and stepping smartly to take the seat at the head of the table. She pulled a stack of papers from her briefcase, setting them on the table and sliding packets to each of the Rogues. Steve glanced down at his. Accords Provisions: Avengers Code of Conduct was stamped across the top of the front page.
“These contain the rules and regulations specific to the Avengers under the Accords council. You’re an independent team, but the Accords provides for some degree of regulation concerning how you’re run since you started as an offshoot of a government agency, especially since you’re being housed in a building that is now government property,” Carrie said, her tone clipped and efficient.
“So not everyone who signs the Accords has these same rules in place?” Natasha asked shrewdly, and Steve blinked, running back through the woman’s words. Carrie nodded in confirmation.
“Correct, Miss Romanoff. Three of our other Accords signees have not opted to join the Avengers at this time and signed as independent entities, so they are bound only by the rules of the Accords themselves. We don’t yet have any other superhero teams who have signed, but, should that happen, they would be able to make their own group regulations with the Accords council in a manner that best suited their group’s structure. The Avengers’ regulations have already been created and ratified due to their relation to the government, as well as the…unusual situation and the need for public reassurance in regards to this particular team.”
“Are we sure that these regulations will work?” Sam asked, and Carrie turned an unimpressed raised eyebrow on him. He hastened to explain. “No offense meant, ma’am, I just meant – since you haven’t had any other teams set up regulations yet and none of the Avengers consulted on this, are we sure that the regulations will work in a team setting?”
Carrie pursed her lips, though not in a displeased manner. More in a thoughtful one, as though she was debating whether or not to disclose a piece of information. “An Avenger was consulted on this, actually,” she said finally, and Steve wasn’t alone in letting out a startled noise.
“Who?” Steve asked blankly, glancing around and trying to figure out which member of the Avengers they were missing. His brow furrowed. “Vision?” he guessed, looking back at Carrie, and the woman shook her head.
“Vision chose to sign as an independent hero,” Carrie said. “No, the person who signed is someone you haven’t met yet. You’ll be meeting him later, though. He’s residing here at the Compound, as is part of the Avengers’ agreement with the Accords council, and he agreed to stop by at the end of our meeting to give you the rest of the tour so that you can begin becoming acquainted with one another.”
Steve frowned. “I didn’t realize the council was looking to expand the Avengers’ ranks,” he commented almost absently, mentally picking at the situation. Something was off. Carrie was being evasive – there was something about this new member that Carrie didn’t want to tell them.
Based on the calculating look Carrie aimed at him, he was pretty sure Carrie knew that he’d guessed something was up. “All will be explained in time, Captain Rogers,” she said. “Now, if we can get back to the documents?”
The Avengers were upstairs.
It was a fact that Jay had very firmly relegated to the back of his mind as he hammered away at the armor. He’d had to make some adjustments accounting for his new size (he was not short, thank you very much Rhodey, he was simply still growing!), and those adjustments continually required even more adjustments as his stupid twenty-year-old body continued to finish its growing process.
Boss, Miss Potts is on the line for you, FRIDAY pinged him through Extremis. They’d discovered it was much easier for her to pull him out of engineering binges if she contacted him like that instead of trying to get his attention vocally. Jay sighed.
Patch her through, he responded, wiping his hands off on his grease-stained jeans and straightening up. He glanced at the screen as Pepper’s face popped up, pristine as always.
“Pepper, light of my life, apple of my eye, what can I do for you?” Jay asked with forced cheeriness, guessing at the reason for her call.
“Hey Ton – Jay,” she greeted him, slipping at the last second. They were all trying to adjust to his new identity now, knowing they couldn’t afford to slip up in front of the press. “I’d asked FRIDAY to let me know when the Avengers arrived, and she said they got there about an hour ago.”
Jay hummed noncommittally, hearing the unspoken question. “I haven’t seen them yet,” he told her, and she nodded, looking relieved.
“Wait until Rhodey or I get back, okay?” she instructed, and Jay shuffled his feet guiltily. Her eyes narrowed. “To – Jay. What did you do?” she asked suspiciously, and he gave her an apologetic smile.
“Their liaison asked me to come up and meet them at the end of the meeting, and I said yes,” he admitted in a rush, flinching at the upset look on Pepper’s face.
“Jay, why?” she sighed. “We told you we wanted to be there when you had to face them for the first time.” And she sounded so disappointed, Jay couldn’t help but get defensive.
“I’m sorry, Pep, it’s just – she’s like you, ya know? All badass and scary but not in like a mean way, more in like a terrifyingly competent way where she asks you to do something and it’s not really a question, it’s an ‘I-know-best-you-will-do-what-I-say-foolish-mortal’ kind of thing,” Jay rushed to explain, waving his hands erratically.
“Well, I do know best,” she huffed, still frowning but looking slightly mollified. Jay quickly nodded.
“Of course you do, pumpkin, no one’s disputing that. Miss Hale – that’s the liaison – she just has that same Pepper Presence,” Jay said earnestly. “And I’ve been trained to respond to that kind of presence by the best.” He smiled beatifically at her, and she snorted.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” she warned him. “I don’t care if you’re Tony or you’re Jay, I can tell when you’re trying to butter me up and it’s not going to work.” She sighed. “But in this case, I guess I see your point. I’d be scared of me, too, if I wasn’t, well, me.”
“You are frighteningly efficient,” Jay agreed. Pepper sighed again, and Jay gave her another bright, innocent smile.
“Just…promise me you’ll be careful. I’m still in Hong Kong working on the alliance with Chen Inc. and Rhodey had to report back for a few days to discuss the Avengers again, so I don’t think either of us would be able to get there in time,” Pepper said tiredly.
“I promise,” Jay said quickly, then frowned. “Is honey bear still trying to negotiate so he can join the Avengers, too?”
Pepper nodded. “He says it’ll make him feel better if he can be there to watch your back in a more official capacity. The Air Force hasn’t been going for it so far, especially since he can’t exactly use that argument with them since they don’t know you’re the Tony who was almost killed by them in Siberia. With all the stipulations to being an Avenger, they’ve been making the argument that Rhodey can’t be a full-time Avenger and still serve in the Air Force, and he’s still got a few years of service left.”
Now it was Jay’s turn to sigh. “I wish he wouldn’t push that so hard. I’ll be okay, and I don’t want him risking his position so he can babysit me.”
Pepper smiled wryly at him. “Pretty sure that’s a lost cause there, Jay. We’re going to worry about you, you don’t get a say in the matter.” Jay’s answering small smile was far more genuine. Then Pepper changed the subject. “Have you heard from Vision lately?”
Jay shook his head. “No, not very recently. He checked in a few days ago to let me know he was in Naples, but he’s mostly offline. He wants to explore the world in as much of a human manner as possible. I keep telling him he is human, so all of his experiences are in a ‘human manner’, but he then he’s all ‘semantics’ and I don’t really have a rebuttal for that.” He waved a hand irritatedly, and Pepper smirked.
“Wow, he sounds stubborn, wonder where he got that,” she deadpanned, and Jay stuck his tongue out at her, then frowned.
“I just don’t want him to think he’s less than human, ya know?” he said quietly, and Pepper’s eyes softened.
“Oh, honey, I know. And I’m sure Viz understands that, too, he just needs to get to know himself a little better,” she reassured him. Jay gave her a half-smile.
“Thanks, Pep. What would I do without you?” he said, trying for levity.
“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” she teased, and Jay laughed. “Will that be all Mr. Stark?”
“That’ll be all, Miss Potts,” he said, smiling fondly at their old call-and-response as the screen went black.
“Boss, Miss Hale is nearly finished with the Avengers. Would you like for me to take you to their floor?” FRIDAY asked, and Jay tried to ignore the swooping feeling in his stomach.
“Uh, sure. Wait, let me freshen up first, Fri,” he said distractedly, feeling distinctly off-kilter.
“Sure thing, Boss,” FRIDAY responded, and Jay ducked into the small shower he’d had built into every lab he’d made, something he’d found to be necessary the nth time he’d gotten chewed out by Pepper for being smelly and covered in grease and motor oil when he went upstairs to greet important people. He toweled off, pulling on an ACDC t-shirt and a non-stained, non-ripped pair of jeans, which was really far more than anyone should’ve expected of him. He glanced at his reflection in one of the glass walls to his workshop; he looked like any other kid, he thought a little sardonically. Wild hair, jeans and t-shirt, and a hating-the-world frown firmly set in its rightful place. He certainly didn’t look like a 47-year-old man trapped in a 20-year-old’s body who’d been almost murdered by one of the people he was about to face.
That was probably a good thing.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself and striding over to the elevator. No point putting it off any longer. FRIDAY slid the doors open for him wordlessly, no doubt reading her creator’s stress levels if the brush of worry Jay felt against the back of his mind was any indication. The elevator rose to the main floor silently as Jay steadied himself, reminding himself that they couldn’t hurt him; FRIDAY was in every room and could come to his defense at a moment’s notice, and he certainly wasn’t defenseless by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, between the super soldier serum and Extremis, he was pretty sure he could beat Rogers even without the suit, if it came down to it. He’d prefer not to test that theory, though.
The elevator came to a stop. “We’re here, Boss,” FRIDAY said quietly, unnecessarily.
“Right,” Jay said, blinking a few times. They can’t hurt him. He’s safe. He can do this. The world needs him to do this. “Right,” he said again. “You can open the doors, baby girl.”
The doors slid open. I’m right here with you, Boss, FRIDAY’s code brushed against his mind comfortingly.
Thanks, baby girl, Jay sent back, letting warmth infuse the message. He stepped out of the elevator, eyes lighting on the conference room ahead. Through the glass walls, he could see the old team gathered around the table, the majority with their eyes on Miss Hale, but some looking down at the packets in front of them. He swallowed, giving himself a moment to take them in. Clint, Sam, and someone he assumed was Scott Lang had their backs to him, so he couldn’t tell much besides that the back of their heads seemed healthy enough. Natasha was focused on Miss Hale, expression neutral but eyes as calculating as ever, probably running through every word the poor liaison said and looking for double meaning. He felt a bit of a pang, looking at her. Of all the Avengers sans Steve, she’d probably been the one he was closest to. She’d seen him at his worst, when he was dying (or, well, his post-Afghanistan worst). She’d sided with him, initially. Her betrayal had cut deeper than Clint’s or Sam’s. Maybe not deeper than Steve’s, but Steve was a special case.
His eyes slid to the man in question, as though drawn by a magnet. Steve was looking down at the paper, brow furrowed as though he was trying to ensure he absorbed every word on the page. Jay’s eyes traced his face, a deeply unsettled feeling coursing through him, borne of the disconcerting cocktail of trust and fear, of longing and revulsion, of love and…well, he couldn’t quite bring himself to hate Steve. Even after everything. But somehow, that almost made it worse; at least there was some logic in being so mixed up after everything. For him to be unable to hate the man who’d nearly killed him, even if it had been at the behest of another? That wasn’t logical. It wasn’t even sane.
Jay shook off the confusing array feelings, forcing himself to move on from Steve – and finding himself staring directly into the eyes of the Winter Soldier. He recoiled, unable to stop himself, one hand jerking up defensively on autopilot before he remembered himself and quickly lowered it. Barnes hadn’t looked away in that time, his expression unchanged, and Jay made a silent fervent prayer that his lapse could be explained away as justifiable fear of the people who’d attacked his dad – otherwise this secret identity thing was fucked, and it was just minute one of meeting the team.
Barnes’s gaze was steady, neither challenging nor particularly curious, simply assessing, as though Jay was nothing more than an interesting painting on the wall. Jay returned his stare unblinking, waiting for his heart to stop hammering in his chest. When he’d finally started to calm, Barnes blinked once, slowly, languidly, then looked back towards the front of the room where Miss Hale was finishing her presentation of the packets.
Jay shoved his hands in his pockets, taking in a deep, shuddering breath – and that movement was enough to draw Miss Hale’s attention, her eyes snapping to him and small pleased upturn of the lips crossing her face. She beckoned to him, gesturing for him to come in, and now the rest of the team turned his way.
Steeling himself and ignoring the eyes on him, Jay pushed himself forward, pressing the glass door open and putting himself in the same room as the Avengers for the first time in two years.
He kept his expression very, very carefully neutral, letting his eyes roam and examine those seated around the table while projecting as much of an unconcerned air as he was capable.
“Good afternoon,” Miss Hale greeted him, gesturing at the seat at the head of the table opposite her. “Please, take a seat. We were just finishing up here. Do any of you have any questions?” She turned her attention back to the Avengers, but they had yet to turn their attention back to her, each of them openly staring at him. Miss Hale cleared her throat and, like a group of scolded children, everyone guiltily turned their attention back to her. She raised an eyebrow. “Questions?” she prompted again. There was silence around the table, and she nodded to herself as though she’d expected that. “Alright, well, don’t hesitate to reach out if anything comes up that you’re uncertain about. My phone number is in the packet, and I’m available at nearly any hour.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Steve said, his voice the epitome of Captain America politeness, and it was so painfully familiar that Jay refrained from flinching by the skin of his teeth. She inclined her head to him.
“Now, I believe introductions are in order,” she said, and it was as though she’d given the team permission to gawk at him again, all eyes swiveling to lock on to Jay. He kept himself still, determined not to fidget. Show no weakness, and all that. They didn’t look unfriendly, at least; more curious than anything, if he was reading their expressions right. Although he had no idea what Steve was thinking – he was steadfastly refusing to glance in that general direction. “Avengers, this is your new team member. If you’d like to introduce yourself?” And it took Jay a moment to realize she was speaking to him. He had to hold in an eye-roll; of course she didn’t want to introduce him – likely, she didn’t want six superheroes blowing up in her face with questions. She was leaving that particular pleasure to him.
“Sure, thank you, Miss Hale,” he responded politely regardless. He looked around the table, careful to keep his expression neutral. Well. Nothing else for it then. May as well rip off the proverbial band-aid. “Hi everyone, I’m Jason Stark, Tony Stark’s son, and I’ll be working with you as Iron Man.”
Pepper would have sighed exasperatedly at him if she’d been there, berating him for having zero tact, as per usual.
The room went deafeningly quiet, eyes that had been curious now stricken.
“Y – you’re…?” Clint was, surprisingly, the first one to speak, face pale and bloodless.
Still carefully neutral, Jay said calmly, “Tony’s son, yes.” Clint blinked rapidly.
“I didn’t know Stark had a son,” Lang said softly, eyes haunted and fixed firmly on his hands. Jay remembered with a twinge that he had a daughter; probably thinking of what would’ve happened if he hadn’t come home to her, if Jay had to guess.
“He never said anything,” Natasha said, and Jay risked a glance at her. Her face was so perfectly blank, the exact overly-controlled mask he knew she wore when she was having particular difficulty tamping down on an emotion.
“My mom didn’t want me growing up in a media circus, so she asked him not to,” Jay responded, though it hadn’t necessarily been a question.
“And you’re how old, exactly?” Sam asked, and Jay turned to him and arched an unimpressed eyebrow.
“I’m twenty,” he said simply but with a hint of steel. He would not be brushed aside for his apparent youth, not when he’d been brushed aside for much less than that even before the change.
“Twenty,” Clint repeated, looking horrified. “That’s…that’s so young to lose a father.”
And Jay didn’t really have anything to say to that – certainly not that he’d actually lost his father even younger than that at the hands of a different super soldier sitting at this table.
“You’re taking over as Iron Man?” Sam asked, as though Miss Hale’s earlier words had just sunk in. Jay nodded.
There was a loud screeching sound, and Jay’s eyes snapped towards the noise, eyes locking onto Steve’s form towering over the table, the super soldier having pushed back his chair and stood. Jay froze, looking up at the man who was very studiously not looking at him, face a mixture of pain and anguish and guilt. Nobody spoke, watching him as his shoulders heaved, then Steve turned and walked swiftly out of the room.
Jay blinked. That…that was not what he’d been expecting. There was silence for a moment, then –
“I’ll go after him,” Barnes said, pushing back his chair and following Steve out the door.
The silence resumed.
“Right, well,” Miss Hale coughed awkwardly. “We should probably wait until Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes return before we continue discussing Dr. Stark’s role on the team – “
“Dr. Stark?” Clint interrupted, and Miss Hale nodded, looking bemused.
“Dr. Stark has his PhD in mechanical engineering and has been working on a second in physics, from what I understand,” she answered.
Sam whistled. “Damn, kid, I thought you said you’re twenty.”
“I am,” Jay responded with a shrug. “I started college a little early.”
And now they were staring at him for a different reason. “Guess you really are Tony’s son,” Natasha commented, face inscrutable as she assessed him. Jay raised an eyebrow.
“You didn’t think my dad would leave me the suits unless he knew I could fix them, did you?” he asked, and that finally managed to crack the Black Widow’s perfect mask. Her eyebrows raised in surprise.
“You can make the suits?” she asked, voice impressively even. Jay nodded, letting a small cocky smirk cross his face. If he was playing Tony Stark’s son, he might as well go all the way.
“’Course. That’s the easy part. The arc reactor technology was a little more difficult, but Dad’s notes were pretty straightforward, and what he didn’t write down I was able to guess,” Jay said airily, and now the entire room was gaping at him. Good. He knew how to handle people staring at him for being too smart for his own good; it was much better than them staring at him for being the son of someone they’d inadvertently killed.
“Definitely Tony’s kid,” Natasha decided with a wry smile, and it was the first time any of them had said Tony’s name without some sort of hushed reverence or guilt. He gave her a sarcastic smile in return.
“That’s what they tell me,” he bantered and was gratified to see a flare of what looked to be delight in the spy’s eyes. His flippant responses seemed to be having an almost calming effect on the rest of the group, the tension that had been building since the announcement of his identity starting to seep away. Jay felt his own shoulders start to relax. He aimed a small smile at Miss Hale. “Maybe we should go ahead and start the tour, and the Avengers can meet up to continue to discuss team matters later?” he suggested and pretended not to notice the relief that swept over the woman’s face.
“That sounds like a great idea, Dr. Stark,” she said, standing, and the rest of the table stood with her. “I’ll leave you them in your capable hands.”
The tour had been uneventful, and Jay was grateful for it. The easy back-and-forth he and Natasha had shared in the conference room continued, and it seemed to make the others feel more comfortable and willing to participate in the banter. He got a few curious questions about himself, but nothing too intrusive, and Jay had dropped them all off at their rooms in the East Wing almost before he knew it.
He felt strangely energized when he re-entered his lab, an involuntary small smile still spread across his face that he was very diligently attempting to ignore. Because he knew what it meant – he’d missed this, far too much. Rhodey and Pepper were wonderful, and he wouldn’t trade them for the entire world. But he’d missed the feeling of being on a team, of the comradery and comfort of being a part of a group, a family, that had your back.
And he wasn’t blind – he knew he was viewing his years with the Avengers through rose-tinted glasses. They’d had problems, like all families did. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been used, for his tech and his money and his brains – especially since Steve had been using all three of those to hunt Bucky down without telling him what he knew about Bucky’s past. And he’d played scapegoat for them too often, though he blamed himself some for that – which was part of the problem. He was so quick to blame himself that it only made sense others would follow suit. And he hadn’t been innocent in the problems with their little Avengers family, either; he’d pushed them into moving in, had probably been trying too hard to make them feel at home, feel welcome, feel like a family. He was pushy and he wanted his way, and he was sure that had caused some friction when others disagreed with him.
But at least now, looking back, he could identify his own shortcomings and make sure he never ended up in the position he’d been in before – though he’d admit that he hoped that they could still work their way back towards the comradery they’d had in the beginning, before the copious amounts of baggage each of them carried had started driving wedges between them.
“Boss, Captain Rogers is asking for your location,” FRIDAY cut in on his reverie. Jay jerked, startled.
“What?” he asked blankly.
“Should I tell him where you are?” FRIDAY asked, and Jay’s mind raced. Did he want Steve in his lab? No, no the answer to that was a very emphatic no at the moment.
“No, ask him what he wants, please, baby girl,” Jay instructed. A moment.
“He says he wants to talk with you,” FRIDAY responded dutifully, and Jay frowned.
“Oookay,” Jay drew out, uncertain. Steve had basically fled from him earlier. What did he want with him now? Jay bit his lip, then shrugged. Probably better to just go ahead and find out. “Tell him I’ll come to him.” Another pause.
“He agreed. He’s on the fourth floor in one of the common rooms,” FRIDAY reported.
“Thanks, baby girl,” he said with a smile as he headed for the elevator. “Anyone there with him?”
“No, boss, he’s alone,” FRIDAY answered, and Jay hummed in response. The elevator came to a stop, and Jay stepped out, feeling more uncertain than nervous. Steve was standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room, fidgeting and looking at Jay with a pained expression that he’d tried and failed to turn into a welcoming smile.
“Dr. Stark,” Steve greeted him formally, and Jay forced himself not to flinch at the first words Steve had spoken directly to him since Siberia. He was my friend.
So was I.
“Call me Jay, please,” he said quietly, and Steve nodded jerkily.
“Jay, then. And you can call me Steve, if you want,” he offered, and Jay nodded slowly. Steve fidgeted again, then gestured to one of the chairs. “Will you sit?” he asked, voice painfully stiff and uncertain. Jay nodded again, moving further into the room and taking a seat. Steve sat on a couch near him, gaze fixing on his hands and looking lost.
“You wanted to talk to me?” Jay prompted finally, and Steve swallowed, looking up to meet his gaze. Jay wanted to balk at the pain he saw in those ice blue eyes, the despair, the self-loathing, the torment.
“I did, yes. I – I wanted to apologize,” Steve said, sounding like he was holding himself together with super glue, his voice ragged. “I – your dad – Tony – he…he was one of the greatest men I ever knew. He was brave and kind and generous and so self-sacrificing and – and I took him from you.”
“You didn’t – “ Jay started, but Steve interrupted him almost vehemently.
“I did. It may not have been my choice, but it was my hands that did it, and…and I’m so, so sorry. God, I’m sorry,” and with that, Steve’s voice broke and his face crumpled, and he hid his face in his hands. Jay blinked, guilty surprise surging through him. Even though he knew intellectually that a lot of Steve’s behavior had been Maximoff’s doing, there had still been a piece of him that had held on to the cruel indifference Steve and the others had shown him after Ultron. Their unkind behavior had been a slow thing, starting with cold glares and sharp words, then slipping into purposely leaving him out of team bonding events and ignoring him when he entered a room, then slipping into scathing remarks about his past and his pathetic attempts to make up for it. When he’d eventually decided to step back from the Avengers, moving out of the Compound and informing the public he’d be working on an independent basis for a while (because SI needed more of his attention, of course, nothing more!), they’d watched him go with an air of satisfaction, not one of them asking him to stay. And yes, he knew now that it had been Maximoff’s doing, but there was a part of him that still felt like the team believed all those things they’d said about him, that they truly didn’t want him around, and Maximoff had just given them the excuse they needed to be rid of him.
So to hear Steve call him – Tony – a good man and express such a deep, sincere regret over his passing? Well, it was more than Jay had ever expected.
“It’s not your fault, S – Steve,” Jay said, tripping over the name a little but trying to show his conviction in his voice. “Maximoff had you under mind control, there wasn’t anything you could’ve done.”
“I should’ve known,” Steve protested, voice rough and slightly muffled against his palms. “I should’ve known she was messing with me and fought it off. I should’ve known.”
“How?” Jay asked simply, and Steve stilled, lifting his face and looking at Jay in confusion.
“How what?”
“How should you have known? From the report, it sounds like Maximoff was worming her way into your heads slowly enough that nobody noticed until she died and her influence vanished. Fuck’s sake, my dad was a genius and he didn’t even notice,” Jay pointed out. It wasn’t exactly true – he as Tony had pointed out several times that Maximoff was ex-Hydra and had fought against the Avengers until Ultron had basically told her and her brother that he was going to kill them. He’d told them he wasn’t sure she could be trusted – but he’d never thought she’d been controlling the others the whole time. Even he hadn’t seen that coming.
But the half-truth was worth it for the slight lessening of self-flagellation on Steve’s face. “I guess that’s true,” he murmured. “But still. I killed your father. I killed Tony Stark. And I’m so sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m so sorry.”
“Wanda Maximoff killed my father,” Jay said firmly. “Just like Hydra killed all the Winter Soldier’s victims and Loki killed all of Hawkeye’s when they were under mind control.” Steve looked at him, startled and with a strange mixture of hope and disbelief. Jay sighed. “You don’t need my forgiveness because you haven’t done anything to forgive – but if it means so much to you, you have it. You’re forgiven. And I know if my dad were here, he’d forgive you too.”
Steve frowned, a complex series of emotions warring on his face. “Thank you,” he said finally, and Jay inclined his head. Silence fell for a moment, but Jay hesitated to leave. Steve wasn’t okay yet; he could tell from the stiff set of the man’s shoulders that he was still clutching desperately at the guilt that weighed him down, and Jay didn’t have it in him to leave without offering as much as he could in the way of comfort.
Steve’s guilt was at least partially his fault, after all, because Tony Stark wasn’t truly dead, but here he was letting Steve believe himself a murderer. Jay’s stomach curdled unpleasantly at the thought; somehow, the realization that he’d be inflicting this sort of punishment on Steve hadn’t crossed his mind, and, for all that the Rogues had been cruel to him under Maximoff’s control, this felt even more cruel, especially since he was doing it of his own volition.
Jay had to forcibly remind himself that this was the best way forward for the world at large, that it was, unfortunately, the right thing to do if he wanted to keep the public’s trust in superheroes. But the least he could do was offer comfort, so he wracked his brain for something, anything that might provide some sort of consolation to Steve.
“Dad was a futurist,” he finally settled on, eyes drifting to look out the window and into the leafy greens and open, star-studded skies surrounding the Compound. “He’d want us to keep moving forward. He knew the risks when he signed onto the Avengers Initiative, and he believed in the Avengers up till the very end.”
“And look where that got him,” came Steve’s whisper, and the blond man’s eyes were locked on his hands again. The words sounded haunted and unwilling, as though they were being pulled from him involuntarily. And, like a dam had broken, more followed, rushing out in a sea of hopelessness that Jay hadn’t realized Steve was capable of. “He’d have been better off if he’d never gotten involved in the Avengers at all. Hell, a lot of people would be better off if the Avengers hadn’t been founded. All the destruction we wrought under Wanda, thinking we were doing the right thing? Bruce Banner said something on the helicarrier the day we first got called together – he called us a time bomb. And he was right. Maybe the world would be a better place if the Avengers hadn’t been created at all.”
And the last words were uttered so bleakly that Jay felt a flare of guilt followed by a surge of anger. He had not given up his former life, fought so hard, been through so much for this.
Steve didn’t seem to notice his ire, shaking his head ruefully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t dump on you – “
“No,” Jay interrupted, voice hard, and Steve’s eyes snapped up to his in surprise and confusion.
“No?” he repeated blankly.
“No. You don’t get to say the world would be better without the Avengers, not after everything my dad did to give the Avengers a chance,” Jay said stoutly, and Steve flinched, but Jay continued on ruthlessly. “You’ve made mistakes – big deal, everyone makes mistakes. My dad sold weapons for the first part of his life, and some of those weapons ended up in the hands of terrorists. And do you know what he did? He acknowledged that he’d been careless and tried to fix it. So now it’s your turn, Captain. You made mistakes – not killing my dad, that’s not your fault. You made the mistake of letting Maximoff on the team and giving her that access to you all, and now you have to fix it, and you don’t fix something by abandoning it. So you’re going to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and you’re going to help put the Avengers back together again, because that’s what my dad would have wanted and that’s what you know is best for the world at large,” Jay finished fiercely, eyes locked on Steve’s as the man blinked at him, looking shocked and scolded for a moment before a wry smile crossed his face.
“You remind me of him,” Steve said softly, sadly, fondly. “He liked to joke around and tease a lot of the time, but when he was passionate about something, he had this, this fire in him. And you have it, too.”
Jay swallowed, put off-balance by the unexpected compliment. Steve’s smile turned soft, though his eyes remained haunted. “I’m glad to see that trait lives on in you. The world needs it. Thank you for speaking with me, Jay.”
And with that, he nodded, then stood and left the room, leaving Jay staring after him.