Chapter 6
Steve seethed as he stalked through the dorm building, seethed onto his way across the campus, seethed all the way through his walk to work.
He stopped outside the deli, hoping to compose himself before he went inside.
His coworkers already thought he was a freak, he didn't need to add crazy to that list.
So he took a few deep breaths and checked the time: still ten minutes until he was scheduled.
He counted his breath for a few moments, before shaking himself off and plastering a smile onto his face as he walked in.
He was surprised to see a familiar face sitting at one of the few tables the establishment had.
Sam Wilson brightened up when he saw Steve, and stood.
“Hey! I haven't seen you around in a while. Where you been?” He opened his arms as for a hug.
On any other day, Steve might have been uncomfortable with the gesture, but he had so much going through his head in that moment that he welcomed the comfort.
They embraced tightly, and Steve shook his head. “College, man.” He started to move behind the counter, picking up his apron and punching his card.
Sam leaned on the counter across from Steve, raising an eyebrow. “College huh? Where at?”
“NYU.” Steve supplied, picking up a rag and making to wipe down the counter.
His coworker, Rikki Barnes, came out of the kitchen holding uncut ham with a scowl on her face, but brightened when she saw Steve.
He sent thanks to God for scheduling him with Rikki; she was the only coworker he really got along with.
“Hey, big bad Art Student is back from his vacation. How's NYU?” She asked, setting the chunk of meat down on the cutting board behind the glass display case and going to work on it.
Steve shrugged. “Its fine I guess.”
Sam hummed excitedly. “I heard Tony Stark's going to school there. You ever see him around?” He asked eagerly.
It took everything Steve had not to roll his eyes at the mention of the name. “Oh yeah. We’re roommates.” He said distastefully.
Rikki paused in her slicing to look at him. “Tony Stark is your college roommate?” She asked, incredulity in her voice.
“Yes, and he's irrevocably irritating and painfully arrogant and stubborn.” Steve said flatly. “He is actually the last thing on my list of things I want to think about.” He decided briskly.
“Ooh, I smell an exposé!” Said Rikki excitedly.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Hardly. It's not like the guy pretends he's a saint in the public eye.”
Sam seemed to ponder this, before shrugging. "Anyway what's got you so riled up this morning? Before you came in you looked like you might punch a wall.”
Steve groaned. “Exactly the subject matter at hand. Tony freaking Stark…”
Rikki fake pouted. “Aww, did the mean rich boy bully you Stevie? ‘Cause I'm pretty sure you could have kicked his ass. Like, with one hand and foot.”
Steve rolled his eyes at the comment, shaking his head. “No I think… I think I actually need to apologize to him. Sure, he's an arrogant jerk but he usually means well. And naturally I hit a sore spot talking about Howard…”
Sam narrowed his eyes. “Howard like, his late father Howard?”
Steve nodded somberly, and Rikki and Sam both winced.
“Yeah dead parents tend to hit a nerve.” Rikki pointed out.
Steve groaned.
“What'd you even say? I'm sure it wasn't that bad.” Sam ceded.
“I said he looked just like him. And that he was as stubborn.” Steve looked between the other two.
“Jesus, you make it sound like you knew the guy personally.” Rikki muttered, eyes on her ham.
Sam was watching Steve intently. “Yeah, that's more weird than aggressive I think. But he was mad?”
Steve shrugged. “It was weird. He became very calm, eerily so. He started speaking very quietly and… and then I blew up and left.” He left out the part where he'd told Tony he knew his father.
Just then, that realization came down on him. Oh God. Oh God.
He had told Tony he knew his father. His 10-years deceased father.
“I don't buy it.” Rikkis voice drew Steve from his thoughts.
“What?” He asked, ringing the rag in his hands.
“You, blowing up. I don’t see it.”
Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”
She took her hands off the slicer and placed them on her hips, scarlet hair bouncing defiantly. “I have seen you screamed at, belittled, underappreciated, overworked and once, having an entire sandwich chucked at you. You never once lost your cool, always returned with polite ‘yes ma'am’ or ‘yes sir’, always the people pleaser. So I don't believe you lost your temper.”
Steve shook his head. “That's different. This is work. I get paid to be here and put up with people. And besides, all those people, none of them know me or-or say and do things that- oh he just makes me want to wring his neck sometimes.” He ran a hand over his face.
Rikki and Sam were both quiet, and after a moment he looked to them.
Rikkis face was impressed, while Sam's was still thoughtful.
Then the younger man suddenly asked, “Did you know Howard Stark?”
Steve scoffed, waving off the question. “Howard Stark passed nearly ten years ago, right? How old do you think I am?”
“Older than ten,” Sam speculated.
Steve shook his head. “That's ridiculous, what reason would a poor kid from Brooklyn have to meet a multi-millionaire engineer?”
Sam quirked up an eyebrow. “That's a good question, but you still haven't answered mine.” He pointed out.
Steve rolled his eyes. “That would be very coincidental, had I met Howard Stark when I was short of ten years old.” He dropped the rag back onto the counter. “Now if you'll excuse me, we are out of chard.” And he ducked back into the kitchen.
Once there, he took a deep breath. Then two. Then three.
He located the chard and wished he'd picked something that would excuse him for more time - meat or cheese or bread, which all needed to be sliced - before turning, trying to get a handle on his heartbeat, to come face to face with another of his coworkers.
He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Matt Murdock, and was momentarily grateful the man was blind and couldn't see him flush.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hey, Steve.” He greeted calmly.
How the hell he recognized people was a mystery to Steve. “Hello Matt, good to s- to encounter you, again.” Steve did a mental facepalm, while Matt just smiled.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Good to encounter you too.” His smile faded. “Are you alright though? You seem stressed.” How the hell did he do that?
Steve liked Matt well enough, but of he were honest the guy sometimes made him uncomfortable. It was like in turn for his eyesight he'd gotten telepathy or something. And he always knew when someone was lying.
“I'm alright, preoccupied with school stuff I suppose.” It wasn't really a lie, more of a half-truth.
Matt merely inclined his head slightly. “I'll keep you in my prayers.”
Steve couldn't help but smile at that sentiment - the one thing they did get along well over. “Thank you man. I sure need it.”
Matt patted him on the shoulder as he moved past him, moving with practised ease through the crowded back room.
When Steve reemerged, he saw Rikki alone behind the counter finishing her ham up.
When she looked up, he pointed to where Sam had been sitting, and she understood his question; “He had to go, some work thing. But he left you his number, said to text and tell him all the-” she did air quotes. “-'hot gossip’ about the young Stark.”
She finished up the block and glanced at the time, before untying her apron. “Alright, while I would love to stay here all night and watch Matt make you squirm with weird, specific questions, I've got a date.”
Steve raised his eyebrows. “Do tell.” He prompted, and Rikki made a face at him.
“Pro tip for the world Steve-o; nobody is gonna tell you anything of you ask it like that.”
Steve rolled his eyes and began stocking chard. “Fine. Is it your first date?” He asked.
“Better. Specific questions are good. Unfortunately, in my case it's top secret.” She punched out, retrieving her bag from below the register and slinging it over her shoulder. “See you ‘round, Rogers!” She called cheerily as she exited the store, pulling on her long blue coat against the gathering winter.
By the time Steve got off, he was exhausted. He'd only had an eight-hour shift, so it wasn't even three in the afternoon when he returned to his dorm.
He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, between nightmares and other distractions.
He was relieved, however, to find both bunks where he and Tony feuded empty. He wasn't ready to face Tony yet, to apologize or to explain himself.
So, instead, he clambered up onto the top bunk and pulled the number Sam had left for him out of his pocket, along with his phone.
He programmed the number in and saved it, before drafting a text;
To: Sam 2:49pm
Hello Sam, it's Steve. Rikki (my coworker) said that you wanted to hear about school. Well. There isn't much to tell yet, but I'll be sure to keep you in the loop. Meanwhile, my new running path takes me by the old apartment, just a little later (around 6:30) if you want to join me sometime.
Before he had the chance to second guess himself, he sent the text. He really hoped he and Sam would spend more time together.
Just when he was getting comfortable with his surroundings, Tony walked in.
He glanced up, saw Steve, and dropped his eyes back to the floor.
He moved wordlessly to the bottom bunk and settled there.
A few minutes passed, as Steve was considering whether he ought to speak up, and then Tony stood again, and silently moved to the living room.
Now Steve felt he needed to say something.
He climbed down from his bed, and was about to follow Tony and delicately broach the subject of his father, when an excitable Janet van Dyne burst through the doors.
Her eyes locked on Steve and she squealed. “Steven George Rogers! I didn't know you worked at Nelson and Sons!”
Steve frowned, taken aback by the sudden shift in the room. He glanced over at Tony to see the inventor focused on the cell phone he was tinkering with.
“Okay, firstly, my middle name is not George, though if that was a clear guess you were close. Secondly, how did you come to be informed of my place of work?”
She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “You should never doubt my ability to know everything, Steve. Or, at least, everyone; Rikki Barnes is my best friend from high school! We still hang out all the time, and at dinner today she mentioned one of her coworkers came in all in a tizzy because of a fight with his roommate, Tony Stark. The rest is pretty straightforward.” She said thoughtfully.
Steve winced. He wouldn't have said he was “in a tizzy” that morning, just… mildly upset.
Tony stood abruptly and went to his suitcase, where he retrieved a fresh set of clothes and then went back through the living area and kitchen into the bathroom.
Steve chewed his lip, watching the closed bathroom door for a moment before dragging his gaze back to Janet.
She gave him an odd, sympathetic look, then drew up a hand to play with the back of her hair. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize he was sitting right there.” She said in a low voice.
Steve smiled empathetically at her, and shook his head. “It's not your fault, I shouldn't be spilling my drama at work.” He ran a hand over his face, as the shower came on.
Janet chewed her lip. “Well, I also wanted to talk to you for another reason; the sorority I'm trying to join is having a party this weekend for all the new members, and they said to invite whoever so I figured I'd extend the offer to all you guys.” She gestured to the four vacant beds.
Steve smiled uncertainly at her. “I'll have to check my work schedule, but that sounds like a lot of fun.” ‘Fun' wasn’t really how Steve saw the idea of a sorority party, but he figured there couldn't be much harm in it. And he didn't want to let his cheerful roommate down.
She giggled ecstatically, and flung her arms over Steve's shoulders.
He laughed and hugged her back, aware that this was the second unexpected but not unwelcome embrace he had received that day.
When they drew back, she wiped an imaginary tear. “You give give good hugs.” She informed him.
Steve laughed again, and made to return to his bed.
Janet settled herself at the desk in the small bedroom with what looked like a stationary set and began to write.
Steve hadn't bothered to note the time, but he felt that Tony had been in the shower rather long and was anxious to speak with him.
As much as he played it off, Steve wasn't blind to the fact that Tony's quips and banter came from a place of affection and the fact that he'd gone silent was a little upsetting to Steve.
After what felt like ages, the water in the bathroom shut off.
Steve glanced up and was relieved to see Janet had left - not anything against his young roommate, but he was glad he and Tony would have some privacy.
Then he thought of the implication Tony might, on an average day, draw from that suggestion, and it made him sad.
After what felt like a consecutive eternity, the door clicked open and Tony emerged.
Steve clambered down from his bed and started toward the raven, who regarded him with an empty expression.
“Hey, I uh… I wanted to apologize for this morning. I shouldn’t have compared you to Howard, I know how-”
“You don't need to apologize.” Tony interrupted, quick and flat. “You see, our little conversation this morning actually helped put together some very important pieces of information.” He turned to his left, into the living space, and began to pace.
“Tony, I don’t know what-”
Tony held up a hand. “Please, let me finish.” His eyes were icy when they briefly met Steve's, before he returned to pacing. “I was having trouble figuring you out. That's what this whole thing has been about, right? So I'm presented with a few facts: crazy hot bod; reserved nature; old-fashioned mannerisms; excessive people pleaser; past military, ‘like special forces’; and most crucially, a personal acquaintance of my dad. And you know, I almost missed it. It seemed so unlikely, with you being my age and my dad ten years dead. But then, this morning held the last key detail I needed to figure it out.”
Steve swallowed. There was no way he knew, right? He couldn't have figured it out. That was impossible.
Tony stopped his pacing, turning to face Steve. “You told me this morning that I looked like him.” He began toward Steve, and the blond steeled himself against stepping back.
This could not be happening.
“Then you told me, gave me the last piece I needed. You said you did know him. Then, you were just gone. So, I got to what I do best; thinking.” He had reached Steve, and his dark eyes stared intensely up into Steve's. There was a dangerous look behind them. “And I thought to myself, who could be my age and have known my dad at all, to start with? Simple answer; someone not my age. Someone who ought to be older, but by some miracle or tragedy, isn't. Someone with, old fashioned ideals, maybe even close to my father.” Steve could see the muscles contracting in Tony's jaw, though his voice was only growing quieter, and was still icy calm. “Someone my dad admired, who would have a reason to downplay knowing him, who wouldn't know who I was at first glance but would recognize me as my father's son. Someone who embodied the American dream, who doesn't use the Lords name in vain or really swear at all. Steve Rogers,” he said the last words through gritted teeth. “The man, the myth, the legend; Captain fucking America.”