Chapter Text
Steve couldn’t face another holiday season like the ones he’d had since he thawed. So at Natasha’s prodding, he took an assignment in southeast Asia with her, where he lumbered around being an enormous white, blond, clueless idiot distraction while she slipped around in the shadows, doing her thing. They were on the trail of a terrorist supposedly operating in the area, Mandarin, or something. “We had nothing to do with ANYTHING” seemed to be the most common response Nat was getting, and he wondered what in hell was really going on, when they were suddenly called back to Washington DC.
They’d been in their usual media blackout, so suddenly having texts, voice mail, and other messages appear on his phone somewhere between Hawaii and Los Angeles wasn’t a big surprise.
Their content WAS.
“Did you know any of this was going on?” Steve demanded, reading another horrifying news account of Stark’s house going into the Pacific, of Stark being dead, of Stark being ALIVE, of Stark disappearing into the Tower in New York.
“No. I swear I didn’t. I knew Mandarin had some targets in the US but I had no idea Stark was one of them.” Nat insisted. “I’ve been on a blackout, too.”
In the two weeks since the AIM-Iron Man showdown in Miami, Stark, Banner, and most disturbingly, Colonel Rhodes, had left over one hundred messages, all a variation of “call us, ASAP, when you’re out of whatever hole you’re in.”
Steve immediately hit redial, hating phones and sucking it up. “Tony, what-”
“Hello, Captain Rogers, thank you for returning our calls.” JARVIS interrupted kindly. “Sir is currently… very busy, but we ask that you come to New York as soon as possible. We require assistance.”
Oh, hell. Tony NEVER asked for assistance. He nuked SPACE ALIEN MOTHERSHIPS IN ANOTHER DIMENSION without asking for assistance. He braced himself. “How bad is it, JARVIS.”
“At this point it is not… life threatening, but your assistance would be invaluable. We can have a Stark Industries jet waiting for you at any airport you arrive at, on your return to North America.” There was a pause. “Circumstances are such that we would dislike discussing them on an open phone line.”
Steve wasn’t comforted AT ALL. “Of course. I’m flying into LAX, I can hop off this flight, there. Four hours until arrival.”
“Very good, Captain, thank you for cooperating. The jet will be ready.”
“Of course. Tell Stark I’m on my way.”
Nat was blinking in surprise from her seat next to him. “You’re really running off to Stark because he asked? With no idea what’s going on?”
Steve shook his head. “He flew a nuke into a portal to another dimension and still would rather have his tongue ripped out than ask for help. JARVIS doesn’t want to talk about it over an open line. Between the two, yeah, I think this warrants some attention.”
Nat shrugged.
Steve dialed Fury’s direct line, which he wasn’t supposed to use unless space aliens were flying out another portal in the sky. “Fury, you son of a bitch.”
-A-
The lobby of Stark Tower looked a lot different than it had the last time he’d been there, after the Invasion. Now it was spotlessly clean, subtly expensive minimalist with a coffee bar that didn’t take money (the hell?) and a small reception area manned by a single beautiful young woman. Knowing Stark, the woman was also a ninja. He strode over to her, running through all Natasha’s ‘dealing with modern women, Rogers, you’re hopeless’ lessons in his mind. “Hello, I’m-”
She smiled. “Captain Rogers. Welcome back. Mister Stark has been looking forward to seeing you.” she gestured to a single, isolated elevator on the far side of the lobby. The doors were flush with the walls and the same color; there were no call buttons. You had to know it was there, or look for it, to see it. “If you could use the private elevator, you’ll be taken straight to him.”
For about two seconds Steve was shocked at the lack of security, and then he remembered. JARVIS. Of course. JARVIS and Stark. The entire lobby was probably criss-crossed with lasers. Or land mines. Likely both. “Thank you, ma’am.” Nat had told him to quit calling women miss and ma’am. He couldn’t help it. Though he’d stopped with miss after a young woman told him to fuck off. That had been… startling. Amusing, in a way, but very, very startling.
The elevator doors opened at his approach, and closed once he stepped in. “Captain Rogers, it is good to have you back.” said the smooth voice of Stark’s AI.
Steve still associated him more with the Iron Man armor than the building, but he supposed an AI could go wherever it wanted. Hm. That probably could use some further thought, later. “Hi, JARVIS.” The elevator silently whisked him upward. “Got here as soon as I could.”
“Yes, we all appreciate it. I’m taking you to Sir’s main workshop, where everyone is, if that’s all right?”
“Sure, thanks.”
The doors opened again and Steve stepped out, curious. He’d only been in the Tower the few times, directly after the attack, and had never gotten to see Stark’s workshop. There was an atrium around the elevators, both main bank and the private one, that made a reception sort of area. There were some couches and an unmanned desk. Four spaces went off in four directions, each area delineated by more glass walls. Steve wondered why they bothered with walls at all, then, but maybe it was for safety. Something to do with fumes or germs or other such things? Two of the spaces were completely empty, white and spotless and so sterile they made him shudder. Of the other two, one looked like what he’d come to think of as a standard lab, and the other looked like it had started as a lab before a mechanic’s garage had vomited parts, tools, and dirt everywhere.
The door to the shop, directly in front of him, was propped open with a foot-square cubeish hunk of something melted, metal maybe? Did metal burn like that? Inside the room he could see Banner, Stark, and Barton, who he’d spoken to once or twice on the phone but hadn’t seen since the Invasion. He knocked on the door as he went in, to alert them that he was there.
All three men turned swiftly, braced for mayhem, then relaxed immediately when they saw him. That wasn’t great, if they were on alert in the heart of the Tower with JARVIS watching over them. “Uh. You called?” Steve said carefully. “I got the message yesterday, sorry for the delay, was on a media blackout.”
Stark looked genuinely shocked for a long moment before his brain started up again. “It’s okay. JARVIS said you got in touch, thanks for coming.”
“Any time.” Of course he’d come, if any of the Avengers asked for help. It looked like he’d need to work harder on getting them to believe that, from the looks on all three faces.
“Have a seat, Cap.” Barton said, kicking out a sort of bar stool from under the table they were gathered around. He pushed over a mug of something hot. “It’s a long story.”
Which was how Steve found out about Extremis. And got to know Pepper over body identity issues and teaching her how to function with a suddenly-stronger body. And learned yoga with Bruce (harder than it looked). And then sat on Stark during his surgical recovery, because apparently his ‘puppy eyes’ were a lethal weapon and could guilt Stark into listening to doctors. Even when Pepper couldn’t threaten him into it. Besides, Stark was always low-grade angry with him anyway, he might as well be the focus of the post-surgical anger, rather than Pepper, right?