Tony Stark (cutsthewire) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-05-17 21:58:00 |
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Steve had gone down to the kitchen, hugged it out, and had a lot of freshly baked sweets. He thought to maybe make a time to talk to Sam about what happened, but then shook it off. Bucky (the other one) had come around and distracted him for a bit. Then his Bucky got out of school and Steve just wanted to be around them. The last thing he remembered was Bucky saying his name, with a tone of worry. Others said Thanos snapped his fingers. That didn’t put Steve in the best place. He was left alone after insisting he was fine. Steve got his motorcycle out of the garage and went around the town. Bruce mentioned that Tony had driven off, so he was watching out for the red car that Tony seemed to favor. He might have lapped Tony’s house a few times, and he caught the car pulling into the drive. Steve glided his bike into the spot behind the car and shut off the engine. “Tony?” His voice was careful, as if he didn’t even recognize the man. He approached with caution. Tony had been gone since dawn. Bruce had detailed everything that he could about the new memories he had awoken with, and with each sentence, Tony had felt like a taut wire being pulled tighter and tighter until he thought he might snap. It was all too much. Knowing he had failed. Knowing that his failure had even wider consequences than had been conjured up by his deepest fears. Bruce had not known what happened to Tony after they parted ways in New York, just that Tony was going after Strange. Whatever happened after that, Tony was not around to make a stand against Thanos with the others, and not knowing the reason why was eating away at him. He heard Steve’s engine die as he stepped out of his car. Without looking, he knew exactly who it was. Mr. Impeccable Timing himself. Part of him wanted to get back in the car and drive off, not quite willing to deal with people at the moment. But a bigger part of him wanted to get this out of the way already. He turned to look at Steve, hands in his pockets, eyes shielded by glasses. Steve had a baseball cap pulled down over his hair-- hair that was getting longer and blonder out of neglect and the Texas sun. He looked at Tony and shook his head. “Do you feel any better now?” Tony’s hands in his own pockets made Steve shove his fists into his jeans. He walked over to stand arms-length away from Tony. “Bruce told me you took off.” He gnawed on his lip, unsure of where to start. “I wanted to do the same, but Wanda needed a hug.” Steve looked down at the ground, kicking a pebble. He felt like he should say ‘gee golly’ while doing so. “No,” Tony answered truthfully. He didn’t feel any better, but the time to himself out on the road had allowed him to pull himself together and given him the strength to turn around and face the music. There was nowhere he could run to where this wouldn’t follow him, nothing he could do from here that would make a difference. At least right now. He was meeting with Julia tomorrow, and once they finished up her little magical science experiment, he planned on asking her more about the research she had done when she first got here, trying to send messages across universes. Between his work on the portal and her magical knowledge, maybe they could come up with something, a way to send a warning back to himself in his own timeline. He peered at Steve through the tinted lenses of his glasses and tried to take stock of the man. He looked as he always did, no worse for the wear, really, despite his claims of wanting to run off. “So, let’s hear it.” His voice had none of its usual vibrant tone. Steve sighed and leaned against the shiny red car. He didn’t know how to comfort Tony-- he wasn’t comforted either. He didn’t know where Tony was during the situation with Thanos. It wasn’t as if he thought Tony was sitting on his ass somewhere. He didn’t know where Tony was during it, and that worried him. “So just what Bruce told you, you didn’t get any memories?” He wanted to be clear nothing popped up on the drive. “Because stories can differ person to person…” Tony stared at Steve’s body leaning up against the paint job of his car, and then looked up at the man with an expression that said, Really? “I’ve heard Banner’s version of events. I’m assuming you’re here to tell me yours?” He wanted to know everything and nothing at the same time. He did not know what it meant that he seemed to be the only one who had not received a memory upgrade. It couldn’t mean anything good. With that look, Steve quickly put his weight back on his feet and removed his ass from Tony’s car. He didn’t offer any apology, because right now? The car wasn’t important. “Only if you want to hear them,” Steve said while shaking his head. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just needed to make sure you were safe.” And not drinking or driving out of state. These are things Steve considered. “Talk, don’t talk. It doesn’t matter to me.” Apparently they were good at not talking. Tony had been surprised to learn that after two years, he and Steve had still not buried the hatchet. In his own timeline, he knew he was not ready to face the other man yet, but the portal had not given him much of a choice. Still, two years... He cleared his throat and pressed his hand against his chest where a dull throbbing ache had formed. “You’ve done your duty. Here I am. I’m fine.” He turned and started to walk toward the door. He didn’t care if Steve followed or not. Steve did follow, pulling his hands out of his pockets. He knew full well that Tony hadn’t used the phone, he knew it for sure now. Steve now knew that he had been moving around in secret, with Sam and Natasha. Checking in with Vision and Wanda. They were so close-- Tony keeping tabs on Vision. They were so close but so far. He kept a few feet behind Tony and hoped the door wouldn’t close in his face. “Tony, come on, we both know you’re not fine.” Steve left an annoyed sigh out of his voice. Firm but soft were his words, trying to coax something out of Tony. “Fine is subjective.” The door opened when Tony approached as JARVIS greeted him with the usual, “Welcome home, sir.” He hesitated in the entryway, not sure where to go. So he went over to the bar and began shifting through the bottles, yet settling on his usual Laphroaig 17. He poured himself a glass, and looked up at Steve, who had followed him inside, as expected. “This better?” he asked, taking a lengthy swig of the scotch instead of savoring the taste. “This more in line with what you expect of me? Because I can do this. It would be so easy to do this.” He took another drink and came out from behind the bar and began pacing around the room while he spoke. “What else is there? I mean, why pour myself into my work? It's all been in preparation for a moment that's come and gone, but I have no memory of it. Not that it matters anyway because we are stuck in a completely different universe. So why bother? With any of it? With anything?” He stopped in front of Steve and stared down the other man, the intensity of his brown eyes partially concealed by his tinted glasses. “But like I said. I’m fine.” Tony filled a glass and Steve’s broad shoulders slumped. That was… certainly not what he wanted. “Tony--” he began, but then Tony continued on his tiny rant and started to pace. Then spitfire statements came out of his mouth and Steve was overwhelmed. “There’s a chance it could be fixed. Sam… Sam said this happened in his world. I have hope, Tony. I have enough for both of us.” Steve had taken the whole day and all he had came up with was ‘hope’ because nothing else was a good replacement for what he was feeling. Tony’s face just in front of his had Steve’s expression soften. “Tony,” don’t say ‘calm down,’ “Take it easy. There’s nothing any of us can do right now. Maybe Strange knows more about the stones. There was a time one-- it reversed things. I’m thinking that could be the key.” At Steve’s take it easy line, Tony backed off and began walking toward the living room, setting his not-yet-empty glass on the coffee table as he passed it. “So, what. We just sit around and wait for another memory upgrade to see if it was fixed?” Tony was not a wait and see kind of guy. He stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows, missing terribly his old view of the ocean. “I may not even be around to see that it’s done, unless you’ve come to tell me where the hell I am during all of this. Steve lowered his head when Tony walked away. He didn’t bother following him and he certainly didn’t take a seat. “I don’t know where you were during it, Tony. You … you were missing. There was a ship out of the sky. I told Ross that Earth had lost one of it’s greatest defenders.” Steve waited for a response, unsure if he just told Tony he was dead or if Tony would focus on the compliment. Or both, which would be confusing for sure. That was basically what Bruce had said, that he last saw Tony following the Time Stone attached to Strange who had been taken by one of Thanos’ lackeys. It would make sense that he followed them onto the ship. Tony preferred to think that, rather than believe he was dispatched by someone's number two. Still, he could not resist the opportunity to be dramatic. “Missing. Again. Maybe the third time’s the charm, eh, and I'm gone for good.” He scoffed at Steve's compliment. Leave it to him to start getting sentimental. One of Earth's greatest defenders. Well, he was not wrong. Tony had spent the last decade trying to devise ways to protect this little blue planet, but did not have much to show for all his efforts, in the end. “Some defender,” he muttered. He turned around to look at Steve again, his bearing a little softer than it was before. After a moment, he asked, “Why are you here?” No one else had bothered to check up on him after this morning. Hell, he had not even heard from Rhodes. “You could have called. Texted.” “I’m here because Bruce said you were upset,” he shook his head, frustrated. “Why wouldn’t I be here? We suffered losses, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Steve had the most earnest of expressions on his face, hopeful and sad and that kind of look you get before you hug someone. He held his arms out (not for a hug), “I would want someone to check on me after this, even if I didn’t remember it.” Call? Text? “I’m an old fashioned guy, I’d rather get reactions in real time. I could have FaceTimed you?” Steve attempted a smile. Tony sighed. Why wouldn’t I be here? That expression of Steve’s, so sincere, vulnerable almost. No one made Tony’s head spin quite like Steve Rogers. Like when they first met, and he turned out to be a self-righteous asshole instead of the object of Tony’s childhood hero-worshipping fantasies, and then showed himself to be that stand-up guy after all. Or when he proved to be a coward and hid the truth of Tony’s parents’ death from him, then sent him a handwritten letter with a (half-assed) apology and a pledge of loyalty. Tony had needed space when he first arrived through the portal, but then there was Steve with his I missed yous and his persistency that sort of wore Tony down like a whetstone. He seemed so genuine, Tony could almost forget the feeling of betrayal. “All right, Cap.” The words were spoken softly and without much thought, even though that was the first time Tony had called Steve ‘Cap’ since they had fallen out. “I’m okay,” he continued, motioning toward himself as if to illustrate this point, in real time. Well, as okay as one could be in this situation, anyway. But that went without saying. He was working through it. He was doing the best be could. He was okay. “You okay?” Steve smiled softly at ‘Cap’ even if he reminded people that was Sam’s title now, pretty much anytime someone called him it. Cap coming from Tony felt like a term of endearment, not an expectation. Steve thought he should have quit the whole Captain America thing after HYDRA came out as hiding in SHIELD. The Accords made it worse. Steve was loyal to his country, not his government. And then Bucky got in there and messed up everything. He moved his tongue around in his mouth nervously, mouth agape like he was really thinking. “Am I okay?” He repeated. “Yeah.” No, not even a little bit. Like he said, they suffered losses. He was a pro at lying to Tony at this point, what was another one? That thought crossed his mind and he looked down, instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. “...No. You’d think I’d be used to this sort of thing by now, but I’m not. I was hoping you could say something like you always do to lighten the mood.” Tony shrugged apologetically, his face screwed up into a rueful smile. “I think that’s well beyond the scope of even my incredible skills of humorous diffusion.” He took a couple steps forward, closing some of the distance that he had put between him and Steve. “Nobody gets used to losing people. Even when it feels like it’s become a habit.” It was why Tony was always working, always trying to prepare himself, and more recently, to check himself. He was so tired of losing people, of being the reason others lost people. “But this? I don’t even know how to make sense of this, Steve.” Perhaps it would be easier if he had the memories for himself. “It’s unfathomable.” There. He had put words to his emotions in a more constructive way, free of bitterness, and not meant to push Steve away. Tony was closer then, and Steve put his arms out to clap his hands down onto the other man’s shoulders. His expression was forlorn, his voice plaintive. “I’m still reeling too. I don’t know what it’s like to hear it from someone else, just to live it. And we don’t know where you were during it, so I know that’s rough. I know you were doing something important, Tony. You were helping.” He squeezed Tony’s shoulders and then let his hands drop. “Don’t try to figure it out. I know that’s like telling you not to breathe, but …” he swallowed hard, lips pressed together, “We have to keep moving.” He thought better of it, but continued anyway, “I don’t want to. I want to give up. I don’t know what to do. Bucky... “ he shook his head. “I was losing Bucky again.” Steve didn’t want to bring up Bucky to Tony but he had to, if they were sharing their pain. Tony had come to the same conclusion earlier, which is why he had returned home. But keep moving for him meant trying to figure it all out. And find a way out. He didn’t tell Steve that. Instead, he just nodded and clapped the other man congenially on the shoulder. “That’ll be the day,” Tony said plainly, none of the usual John Wayne impression that would have normally accompanied that phrase. Steve? Give up? “Take your own advice. Keep moving.” He tried not to appear rattled by Steve’s confessions of wanting to give up. “Whether you want to or not.” He looked over at the coffee table where his glass of scotch still sat, begging to be finished. “What else is there?” He repeated the same thing he had ranted earlier. But while that had been a bit of theater, playing to Steve’s expectations, this was asked in earnest. Steve sighed, “I am. I insisted on seeing Bucky-- both of them and now that I know they’re still in one piece, I’m moving. I’m trying to pick everyone else up, too. But that doesn’t mean I’m making any progress or that I don’t want to quit.” He glanced back where Tony’s eyes went, to the drink. He shook his head at Tony, making eye contact for a moment. “What else is there? Lots of stuff. Making a home here. Trying to keep people here. You’re working on the portal, aren’t you? Maybe we can keep that timeline from happening if we all stay here.” Steve wasn’t sure if any of that made sense. “Just don’t go crazy on me, Tony.” Tony gave Steve a half-hearted smile. “Bold words for someone who wants to quit.” He might say that, Tony decided, but deep down, Steve could never quit. An image flashed in his mind of Steve, bloodied, beaten but never broken, looking him straight in the eye and saying resolutely, “I can do this all day.” With the memory came a flash of the emotions he felt that day in Siberia, and also the shame that he felt in the weeks after. Tony looked away from Steve for a moment and cleared his throat, tried harder to clear his head. “I make no promises,” he tried joking. His eyes went back to Steve. “I’ll do my best.” Steve shrugged gently, just barely moving his shoulders. “I want to quit, but I probably won’t.” Steve was tenacious and he could see the same trait in Tony. Tony wouldn’t give up on this Thanos thing anytime soon, he was probably already running ideas through his head to somehow do something to correct the other timeline. Tony looked away and Steve’s face moved into a concerned expression. “I mean it. I need you.” “I couldn't, even if I wanted to. I have too many people here ready and willing to get on my case.” Rhodey, Peggy, Jarvis, and now, apparently, Steve. “Thanks for checking up on me.” Tony was sincere this time, not flippant the way he was earlier, most of the anger and bitterness gone. Now he just felt exhausted, physically and mentally. Steve accepted the thanks and nodded, even tipping his baseball cap a little. “That’s what I’m here for.” Steve always thought that the two of them shared their leadership over the Avengers. People would say Tony owned them while Steve lead them, but he really thought it was the two of them together. No one person could handle the power. He turned towards the door, hands retreating back into his pockets. Less intense, no balled up fists this time. “I’ll show myself out…” He stopped, “Text me if you need anything, anything at all.” Tony cracked a half-smile at the hat tip and rolled his eyes. Sometimes Steve seemed a little too impossible to be real, like a character out of an old black and white movie. Tony nodded, knowing full well that he probably wouldn’t text or call. Some things were better dealt with on his own. And yet, as he watched Steve leave, Tony found himself feeling just a little bit lighter than he had an hour ago. He turned and walked toward the stairs that led to his garage. There was always work to be done. |