Who: Steve Rogers (616) and Tony Stark What: A visit Where: Tony's workshop in the woods When: A few days after Pepper's departure. Rating: Probably PG-13 for language? Status: In Progress/Closed
If there was one lesson Steve had learned in life, it was that there was no such thing as leaving one's problems behind. No matter where one ended up, they carried with them all the strengths, foilables, fears and longings that they bore at home. The universe had a way of tapping into that sooner or later; or perhaps it was fairer to say that no defense a person built was strong enough. Steve wasn't one to think passively, and just blaming a universe left a situation too far outside his own hands for his liking. Life caught up, and burst the bubble of what was holding things at bay, but it was ultimately in each person's hands how they reacted to it when in their right mind. What they did when the last parts about themselves they wanted to see the light were dragged from the closet. No matter how many boxes of external circumstances were placed protectively on top of them, no matter the heavy piled on storage of time passed, eventually those skeletons were exposed. Eventually the person deep inside everyone was revealed like a raw nerve. Those fears that were buried inside every day demanded it.
He couldn't blame Tony for wanting to drown that out.
Steve had left the man alone in the immediate wake of Pepper's departure. The desire to push back, to bear the brunt of circumstance alone, few understood that better than Steve Rogers. He'd yet to say a word about most of what life had thrown at him, elements only coming to life when it was in the best interest of others. Bleeding for others was very different than bleeding on them, and allowing the latter was a lesson he was still learning. He intimately understood the pain of losing someone, though. Making certain that Tony was still alive and breathing, that he had a visual reminder he wasn't alone right now even if being alone seemed easier, was what drove Steve to wind his way through the woods to Tony's makeshift workshop. A small, fond expression crossed Steve's face at the sight of it when he arrived. He hadn't been there yet, but it was so utterly reminiscent of what the Tony he'd known for two decades might do. That, too, was a concern. The similarities between the alternate versions of themselves was at times uncanny, although not unbelievable. Steve knew well how the Tony from his world ground himself into a self-destructive pile at so many opportunities. Even if Steve had a host of issues with the Tony he knew best right now, the last thing Steve would do would be to carry those over to this Tony. This Tony was an Avenger, a new friend, and someone in pain. Each and any one of those reasonings was good enough for Steve to show up.
A bag of food and a few other items in hand, he gave a knock on the workshop door. A simple rapping of skin against a harder substance. A wordless request and offering to start. He followed it up with the language of Tony Stark, a word half in jest. "Delivery."