They had both been through enough. The tragedy had made them strong, it had made them the men that they were. But it was more than anyone should ever have to stand and Steve didn't think he could stand it anymore, not in the future he was seeing now. Tony took his hand and he squeezed right back, holding on because it felt like this was borrowed time now.
Maybe people were right, they were all dead and this was some kind of middle ground, a place to be before they moved on. But if that was true, heaven could wait, because Steve wasn't ready to let this go.
Tony's apology helped a little, only because he knew they were both sorry. "Got a chance," Steve finished. At the time he'd held out hope, deep down, that maybe when they were older, when Tony's daughter was grown. Maybe one day, because not wanting him was impossible and accepting he'd never have him far too painful. But Tony's death had changed that, it had been the end of Steve's hope for a life for himself.
"Happy is taking care of them, Morgan and Pepper," Steve told him quietly because he deserved to know. "Sneaking her treats, helping her get into trouble," he smiled a little more genuine this time but still sad. "Making sure she knows who you were, not who they say you were."