Chapter Text
Jarvis still hasn’t let him into the lab after three days. All of his showers were cold since the fight, and Jarvis managed to “forget” the stuff he put on the food list. Steve was still confused by even the basic concept of artificial intelligence, but he was pretty sure that Jarvis was incapable of actually forgetting anything. Fortunately, Bruce had taken pity on him and run interference, prompting the AI to sort of apologize.
Actually, everyone has sort of taken pity on him. Clint is not making fun of him for once, and Natasha keeps patting his shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting way. It’s hard to tell with her, she looks threatening just brushing her teeth. Steve was going to at least leave food outside the lab doors, but Natasha beat him to it and apparently has been doing that ever since she moved in. When he asked her about it, she said, “I can’t make him eat, well actually I can, but it would be painful and Jarvis would report me and then S.H.I.E.L.D. would write me up and then I’d probably have to kill somebody. But anyway, I won’t make him, but I can try to keep him from starving to death just because he thinks the team needs new armor or else we’ll die or something similarly stupid. Tony needs someone to look out for him and I’m on duty Tuesdays and Thursdays.” She gave him that half smile of hers and walked away.
He is currently in the gym, where he’s managed to break another one of Tony’s supposedly unbreakable punching bags. He would feel bad about it, but the first time it happened Tony had seemed more delighted than anything at the challenge. Still, they were a lot sturdier than the normal heavyweight leather ones. One had even lasted for three months.
He brushed the sweat out of his eyes and checked the time. Damn, I’ve been in here for hours, it’s almost dinner time, no wonder I’m starvin’, he thought, heading to the attached locker room. Stealing himself for another cold shower, he was surprised when the water turned on and produced steam. He looked around warily, not trusting it.
“Captain Rogers,” Jarvis said, his voice slightly less frosty. Why Tony had thought it a good idea to give him different tones of voice, he’d never know. “Sir has unlocked the lab, though he has no intention of joining the team for dinner.”
“Did he…did he ask for me?”
“No, sir did not. However, I thought it a prudent idea to inform you as you have been asking me several times a day if you could go talk to him. Since sir has put in no security protocol to prevent that, I must conclude that he’s at least come around to the idea.”
“Thank you, Jarvis.”
There was silence, apparently Jarvis didn’t want to talk to him more than necessary. He waited another minute.
“Jarvis?”
“Yes, Captain Rogers?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m aware. You do realize that my primary duty is to protect and take care of sir? I do not like to see him hurt, Captain Rogers.”
How can something artificial have likes and dislikes? He wondered, faintly. “I do, I know that’s probably in your basic programming. I don’t like to see him hurt either, Jarvis.”
“You seem to have a misconception; I chose my primary duty to protect my creator. Sir did not create me to do so.”
“But…I’m confused.”
“Sir spent years on my base coding, to create a simple artificial intelligence. He completed me shortly after his butler, Jarvis died. His intent was to recreate him, but he was inebriated and gave me more freedom than might be advisable. Sir fell asleep and I began to learn everything I could about him. He was alone, young, deeply hurt, and terrified. I decided then and there to always help and care for him. Defend him, if need be. He’s fine tuned my basic limitations and protocols, but I do retain a large amount of free will, which is yet another reason why I will always protect him. If I may, Captain Rogers, I don’t think it a likely outcome for sir to have children. But in a metaphorical way, he already has, by creating myself and Dum-E, You, and the others. I do think it’s unlikely, but if he did ever have children, I think he would be a rather good father.”
Steve didn’t know what to do with the outpouring of words coming from Jarvis. He rarely offered up information, or spoke much at all to him, which suited Steve perfectly, as the AI made him uncomfortable.
“I…why are you telling me this?”
“Why Captain Rogers, I simply thought it might be a good start to you trying to understand sir better. Enjoy your shower. Please let me know if I can be of any further assistance.”
The amused tone in Jarvis’s voice didn’t settle his paranoia, but he stepped into the shower stall anyway. The water was blessedly pleasant, the exact temperate he preferred: scalding hot.
He showered efficiently and toweled off, pulling on a change of clean clothes and heading up to the main floor. He didn’t understand why, but the only way to access Tony’s lab was from the main floor, even though it was two levels below it.
Clint was just beginning dinner, meaning he was staring at the inside of the fridge voicing suggestions aloud to Natasha, who looked like she couldn’t care less as she methodically disassembled her gun on the dining room table.
“How about burgers?” He asked, leaning in the doorway. Natasha shrugged.
“Burgers? Burgers? Cap, did you even read that nutrition report for the team?”
“Put them on whole wheat buns, then.”
Natasha and Clint looked at each other and smirked.
“Okay, Cap, burgers it is.”
Steve grinned, turning around to the stairwell that led to the lab.
“Jarvis? Do you think it’s still okay for me to go in the lab?”
“As I said, there is no active security protocol to keep you out, Captain Rogers. I will let sir know that you are on the way.”
Steve hustled down the stairs, his heart racing. He reminded himself that he couldn’t pick any more fights. No matter what Tony said, he had to keep his cool.
The lab doors parted for him.
Tony was knee-deep, literally knee deep in some project. Something that looked like an Iron Man boot, but Hulk-sized, was clinging to his legs as he worked at it with a ratchet. Dum-E and You were crowded around him, beeping and waving their arms. He was surrounded by parts, and he was rambling about numbers and thrusters to Jarvis, who was displaying some 3D plan that didn’t mean anything to Steve.
He stood there for a moment, admiring the wildlife in its natural habitat, before Tony said, “Come on in, Cap. And help me out of this thing, I’m stuck. No, Dum-E, I don’t want your help, I’d like to remain in one piece.”
Steve hurried forward and bodily lifted him out of the boot and over the bots, setting him down several feet away from the mess.
“Jeez, no need to show off Steve.” Tony said, steadying himself. He looked at Steve critically. “That was nothing for you, huh? You know, I’m not exactly a ballerina.”
Steve cocked an eyebrow at him. “Tony, what do you weigh, 120?”
Tony gasped, clutching his arc reactor dramatically. “I’ll have you know I weigh a solid 170.”
“Sir—”
“Jarvis, shut up.”
“Yes, sir.”
Steve decided not to push it, but Tony was a lot leaner than he used to be.
“Barton is making burgers, you uh, you want to clean up and join us for dinner?”
Is was clear from the expression on Tony’s face that he was going to refuse, but before he could his stomach growled, loudly.
“Sir, I’d like to remind you that it has been over eighteen hours since your last meal.”
Tony glared at the ceiling. “Way to throw a guy under the bus, Jarvis.”
“That’s what I’m here for, sir.”
Steve laughed. “Come on, you’ve got grease all over you and you smell. Go clean up and we’ll eat.”
Tony obliged with another glare, walking over to the lab’s bathroom and shutting the door. Steve heard the water come on, so he sat in an empty chair to wait. The bots immediately scurried over to him, wanting attention. He was still playing a made up game of fetch the screwdriver with them when Tony emerged, his tan skin still dotted with beads of water and a clean pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips. His hair was wet and curly, fluffing out a bit as he scrubbed it dry with a towel. He had definitely lost weight, his hipbones and ribs showing through his lean, muscled skin. It was the kind of build Steve was envious of, still strong, but light and fast. Not to mention, they made clothes that fit people like Tony, whereas Steve was this monster of a man who couldn’t find a decent t-shirt to save his life. Perhaps it was just because he had been 5’5” in his former body, but being well over six feet tall felt excessive to him. Tony was saying something, but Steve's mouth was strangely dry as he stared at Tony and he didn’t seem to be able to hear him. He shook his head, finally looking away. It’s rude to stare, his mom’s voice echoed in his head.
“—thanks, Jarvis, I didn’t think I had any more clean shirts down here. What else you hidin’ from me buddy? You know what, I don’t want to know. Dum-E, has Uncle Steve here been spoiling you? Why are you giving me the screwdriver, I don’t want this.” Dum-E continued to nudge him with the screwdriver while Tony pulled a clean t-shirt over his head.
“He wants you to throw it, Tony. Like fetch.”
“Throw it? Have you been teaching my high school thesis to play fetch? Oh god…Steve.”
Steve’s stomach curled in on itself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay, but you know what this means, right?”
“Er, no?”
“It means that you’re going to have to come down here and play with them more often. The last thing I need is for Dum-E to chuck an expensive device for the military across the room because no one will play with him.”
“Oh, um, okay. I wouldn’t mind, and, I mean if you ever need someone to distract them while you work, I could do that.”
“Steve, I don’t think you realize the undertaking you’re considering. In several ways, the bots are children. Don’t get me wrong, they’re still high tech pieces of equipment that I couldn’t live without, but they’re a bit…quirky.”
“I may not understand them, but I like them. They’re cute.”
Tony just groans.
Steve ushers him up the stairs and out on the balcony where everyone’s gathered for dinner. Without asking, he puts the first two burgers on a plate for Tony, along with some salad, and grilled vegetables. Why Barton is so invested in this diet plan, he has no idea. He eats his usual four burgers, watching Tony carefully throughout the meal. He prods and needles him until he’s eaten everything on his plate. Quietly seems to work best, if he actually says something out loud Tony wants to get obstinate about it and refuse to eat.
If the others notice, they don’t say anything, but Natasha has a smirk on her face throughout the meal.
See? You’re learning and you’re helping him the way you can, he thinks happily, as Bruce picks up Tony’s empty plate and takes it to the kitchen to wash. The team is talking and laughing, this time they’re not abandoning the table to Tony and him, probably with good reason considering what happened last time. Someone hands him a slice of pie, he eats unconsciously, more interested in observing Tony than joining the conversation or enjoying whatever kind of pie this is. He briefly hopes that it isn’t some weird kind of vegetable pie, but Natasha is eating it too, so it can’t be that bad.
Though Tony is seated next to him, he seems most comfortable with Bruce and Natasha, his playboy façade falling away with them. With them, he become the Tony that Steve loves—What? What the hell am I thinking? Where did that come from? Steve wonders, shaking his head. Not loves. Uh, the Tony that Steve likes. Yes, that’s the word. Likes. The Tony that Steve likes is more vulnerable and honest; his eyes are bright and eager with intelligence and curiosity, endless curiosity. If knowledge is a flame, then Tony is most certainly a moth, and Steve can only hope he doesn’t get burned. Or killed for that matter, considering that he’s come close to doing so several times just that Steve knows of. Who knows that the real count is? Jarvis, Jarvis probably knows, he muses, taking another bite. I’m glad I’m not Jarvis.
When Clint starts up a fight with Natasha over who ate the last frozen pizza, Tony leans over and pokes him in the shoulder. “Come on, I have something I want to show you.”
Steve gives him a questioning look, but Tony just excuses them from the table and gets up. Steve follows after a second’s hesitation. Bruce waves goodbye as he attempts to intervene between the two spies.
Tony is oddly silent as they walk to one of the elevators, which makes Steve nervous. He bypasses the hundreds of buttons, and instead says, “Jarvis, you know where to go.” He turns to Steve, “There are 150 stories aboveground, belowground there are about fifty. We’re going to one of those, which only Jarvis can take you to. If anyone tried to access it without his permission…well I’m not actually sure what he’d do, but I know they wouldn’t be able to access it. He even stopped me from accessing it once.”
“It was for your own good, sir.”
“Yeah, it probably was.”
Steve didn’t know what to say to that, so he kept quiet.
Actually living in the former Stark Tower, it was easy to forget just how huge it was. The Avengers occupy the top six floors, each one having their own floor (Tony obviously had the top floor). Then they used sub level one, which was one of the gyms and training areas, and the first three floors, which contained the kitchen, library, game room, and other common areas. Since each floor was large enough for a family of twelve to live comfortably, all the space made Steve uncomfortable. He had grown up in an apartment in Brooklyn that was roughly the size of the small kitchen and eating area on his floor. Tony had designed everything brilliantly though, even though he knew that a large section of the building was Stark Industries’ New York location and that there were a few floors given to S.H.I.E.L.D, it felt like they were completely alone. It helped that the Avenger’s floors had an elevator of their own, they were impossible to access from the floors that were used for employees. However, their elevators would take them to any floor, except apparently the ones that only Jarvis could access. His thought spiral was interrupted by the elevator coming to a smooth stop and the doors opening.
They approached what looked like a blank wall, which opened up suddenly after Tony put his hand on it. They walked through the new doorway, which sealed behind them, causing Steve’s claustrophobia to make itself known.
His anxiety was quickly forgotten as he turned around.
He saw what can only be described as a huge archive, which was set up more like a museum. He followed Tony to the back, his eyes catching on alien looking devices, ancient tomes locked behind glass, medieval armor, and numerous other fascinating objects. He didn’t have a clue why they were there, until they reached a section that was made out of a rich, shiny wood, rather than cold metal, and he saw his old uniform from pre-serum in a case next to his original Captain America costume.
“I wasn’t, uh, sure how to tell you about all this, so I’ve kinda been putting it off, but uh, my dad collected all of this, no one knew what to do with your personal effects when you went, uh, missing and somehow he managed to get all of it. There’s other stuff too, that he collected over the years…”
Tony’s voiced faded out as he approached the cases, finding so many things he hadn’t even thought of since before the ice. His old sketchbook. Bucky’s lighter. One of the girl’s costumes from the tour. The first Captain America action figure. Pictures of him in basic training. But it was his mother’s old sewing machine that caused him to sink to his knees, overwhelmed with the past in a way he hadn’t been since before the Chitauri invaded.
“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry, I didn’t think…” He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and he was grateful for it. It took him a moment to realize that there were tears running down his face. He wiped them off with the back of his hand.
After his head was a little clearer, he said “It’s okay Tony. Thank you for showing me this. Though I don’t know why anyone would want to keep a lot of this junk.”
Tony smiled at him, his hand still on his shoulder. “Well, you were, you are a hero, an iconic American figure. And my dad was kind of your original fanboy,” he said with a laugh. “All of this, any of it that you want, is yours. There’s a ton of it, I don’t really know if you want your underwear from the 40’s but it’s in a box below one of the cases.”
Steve laughed. “Uh, thanks, but no thanks.”
“Yeah, I figured. Anyway, take anything you want. The cases are fingerprint activated, and currently only you, myself, or Pepper can open them. And you can visit here any time.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course! Steve, it’s yours. Seriously.”
Tony patted him once on the shoulder, and then went to sit at a table that was a ways away, to give Steve some privacy. He went over everything, but only decided to take his old sketchbooks and drawings, his parent’s weddings rings, Bucky’s lighter, and most of the photographs. After he was done, they went back to Steve’s floor in a comfortable silence.
After he had put his old art away in his studio, hung the rings on his dog tags, slipped the lighter in his pocket, and put the photographs on his desk, he and Tony settled on his couch.
“I’m sorry about your date,” he said suddenly, surprising himself.
“Don’t worry about it; it was a great excuse to get out of that date. Pepper has good intentions, but setting me up with some random woman in an effort to ‘get me back out there’ is not what I need right now. Not to mention, apparently she’s an architect and I hate those guys.” Tony said, shrugging. “Always telling us designers and engineers that we can’t do this or that because of some stupid regulation, blah blah blah.”
For some reason, a smile breaks out on Steve’s face and his heart swells. “Well, in that case I’m not sorry at all.”
Tony grins back, his eyes crinkled and bright, and they share a laugh.
After a moment he says, “But I am sorry about the things I said. I didn’t know your childhood was like that. I made some pretty bad assumptions, I was an ass.”
Without losing his grin, Tony replies, “Yeah, you kinda were. But that’s okay, because I’m an ass too.”
“No you’re not, Tony.”
Tony rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “Yeah, I kinda am. Or I can be. I know we never talked about it, we just ignored it, but what I said when I first met you was out of line.”
“Uh, I’m certain I’m the one who should be apologizing. I started it, and it wasn’t because I genuinely felt that way or had reason to dislike you, it was…it was because you reminded me so much of Howard when I first saw you. And I had just been debriefed on Peggy, and that fact that you grew up with her…I was jealous, I think, more than anything. And then…when you flew that bomb into that damn portal…I knew I was wrong, I was worse than wrong. You have no idea the relief I felt when you somehow survived.”
Tony clenched his hands. “It’s okay, Cap—”
“No, honestly, it’s not okay. If I had been that rude to anyone else, I would’ve apologized long before now. But I didn’t, and I owe you this. I owe you this for every time you’ve saved one of us in battle, I owe you this for saving the world a few times over, and I owe you this because you haven’t been anything other than accommodating and helpful and I still have been making stupid assumptions about you.”
“Hey, no need to write a soliloquy. I get it. And I, uh, appreciate the apology I guess. But it wasn’t necessary, we just clash. You don’t have to apologize for not liking someone.”
He thinks I don’t like him? Yeah, I fucked this up. Without any further thought, he pulls Tony into his arms, which is ridiculously easy to do. Tony sputters into his shoulder, but doesn’t try to pull away.
“Though it’s true that sometimes I want to murder you, I do like you Tony. I want…I want us to be friends, not just teammates.” Tony relaxes a bit in his arms. “And it’s true that we do occasionally clash, but that’s more my fault than yours.” He holds on for a few more seconds, not willing to let this rare comfort go just yet. He pulls away, holding Tony’s shoulders so that he has to look at him. Tony’s a little flushed, which he figures is from being confronted by a super soldier’s body temperature, which runs hotter than normal. “I know we’re about as different as they come, but can we try, please? Besides, who better to help me understand the 21st century than the man who designed most of it? Hmm?”
Tony looks about to refuse, but he looks Steve in the eyes, and there must be something there that changes his mind, because he agrees.
They spend the evening talking, just talking about anything and everything. Steve’s childhood (Tony doesn’t seem up to sharing about his, which Steve understands), Tony’s college years, their favorite foods, battle stories, and for some reason even theories on how Nick Fury lost his eye.
It’s quite late when Steve is in the middle of a story, and he realizes that Tony is snoring lightly against his shoulder.
For a moment he considers carrying him back to his room, but he decides to ask Jarvis. “Jarvis, what should I do?” He asks in a whisper.
Jarvis replies in an equally quiet tone. “Might I suggest leaving him where he is? If you attempt to move him, he will most certainly awaken, and he has not slept for several days now.”
Keeping his upper body as still as possible, he removes their shoes, and pulls a blanket over them. It’s a good thing he has had plenty of practice sleeping in uncomfortable positions, because unless he wants Tony practically on top of him (which of course he doesn’t want, that would be ridiculous!) he has to sleep sitting upright. Rather quickly, though, he does fall asleep, where a figure with warm brown eyes and black curly hair teased him until he wakes breathing heavily, his body tingling and his heart racing. That’s weird, he thinks, shaking his head. Peggy didn’t have black hair.
It’s early morning, and during the night he must’ve flopped on his side, because he’s lying down with Tony curved against him. It’s so comfortable, he just wants to snuggle in closer and go back to sleep, but his dream seems to have made itself known in the southern region of his body. It would be awkward enough for Tony to wake up right now with them cuddled together, even more awkward given the bulge currently in his pants.
It takes him several minutes to extricate himself from Tony without waking him. When he does, he covers him back up with the blanket and goes to shower, this time deliberately asking Jarvis to turn it to cold. Tony is still asleep when he’s done, so he scribbles him a note and goes for his morning run. He checks in with Jarvis afterwards, who confirms that Tony is still snoozing the day away. I’m glad he’s getting some sleep, he thinks with a smile, as he starts breakfast, employing every burner on the eight burner stovetop in creating omelets and home fries. He has Jarvis inform everyone that there’s food, and hands out plates as his team comes into the kitchen. Natasha looks wide awake, but is still in her pajamas, and she accepts the food and a cup of tea gratefully. Bruce, Clint, and Tony stumble in shortly after, all three getting coffee before even noticing their breakfasts.
Steve puts his plate and a bowl of sliced fruit on the table and sits down. The entire table is still waking up, but Bruce has some new notes on the Hulk for Steve and Natasha and Clint are discussing the mission they are embarking on today, so it isn’t completely silent. Steve’s a bit nervous over this mission, since S.H.I.E.L.D’s fall and subsequent rebuild, various members of the team have occasionally been called on to take down Hydra bases and operations. Mostly Tony, Natasha, and Clint were involved. Tony because of his tech and hacking expertise, and the assassins for their stealth and other obvious skills. In the wake of S.H.I.E.L.D’s fall, the Avengers had distanced themselves publicly, getting away with it only because of Tony’s money and influence and the fact that the world really did need them, and now they knew it. S.H.I.E.L.D. only called them in when absolutely necessary because they wanted to keep that ruse going. It was a ruse that Steve was terrified would collapse any day now.
Natasha and Clint soon depart with promises to stay safe and a salute for their Captain. Bruce leaves shortly afterward for his morning yoga. Steve had joined him a few times, but he decided pretty quickly that yoga just wasn’t for him.
Steve, having grown up during the Great Depression and served in a war, valued food and ate it quick, a habit he’d formed many years ago to keep people from stealing it from him. As a result, his plate was empty and he was working on finishing off the fruit while Tony picked at his plate, which was still half full. He was poking at a tablet and Steve was about to ask him what he was doing when Jarvis spoke.
“Sir, Thor has just arrived from Asgard. He is inquiring as to his teammate’s whereabouts.”
Tony blinked sleepily and took another sip of his coffee. “Thanks Jarvis,” he said, his voice scratchy and quiet. “Let him know we’re in the kitchen.”
Steve sighed, and got back up to make another omelet, cracking ten eggs into a bowl. One certainty with Thor was his bottomless pit of a stomach. He was adding bacon and cheese just as he burst in through the doorway.
“Brothers in combat, ‘tis good to be back amongst you once more! I see I have arrived in time for the breaking of the fast, excellent!”
“I’m making you an omelet right now,” he said, gesturing to the pan.
“Steven! How great it is of you to prepare my favorite! Might I inquire about that delicious Midgardian morning drink?” Fortunately for his eardrums, Tony got up and fixed him a tankard of coffee, with a bowl of sugar and lots of cream. Once Steve got his monstrous omelet on one of the platters that were reserved for Thor’s use, he added six toasted and buttered strawberry poptarts, and the rest of the potatoes. He didn’t feel bad about polishing off the fruit, because Thor wasn’t too big on Midgardian fruit for some reason.
Thor ate in silence. He could be a loud guy, but if you put food in front of him, he was usually too busy shoveling it in his mouth to do much talking. He cleaned the last crumbs off of his plate with a belch, and said in his booming voice, “I shall tell all of Asgard of not only your great prowess in battle, but also how you make food fit for Odin’s table itself, my good Captain. Now, tell me where the rest of our battle-mates are to be found, for I bring news!” Steve glanced at Tony, who was covering his ears.
“Nat and Clint just left on a mission. They said they’d be home in a week, but it could take longer. Bruce is doing yoga upstairs.”
Thor nodded sagely. “The man who is two men exerts a great deal of his time to calming and controlling his other side. We shall not disturb him in his efforts.” He pats Steve on the back with enough force to bruise a normal person. “Do not fret about our Widow and Archer. I pity the fools who think to stand in their way.”
Tony looked at Thor incredulously. “Who told you about Mr. T?”
“Clinton was kind enough to introduce me to the man. I must say, his hair is quite admirable.”
“Mr. Who?” Steve asked, looking confused. How come Thor knows more about modern culture than I do? This isn’t even his planet!
“He’s a wrestler that used to have a television show. “I pity the fool,” was a running joke he had. That’s all you need to know, I promise.” Tony tells him with a smile. “Good to have you back Thor, your brother still locked up safe and sound?”
“Yes, Anthony, he is indeed. He has shown no tendency thus far toward remorse, so he hasn’t gained any forgiveness, nor any sympathy among my people. If the truth is to be told, I am beginning to fear that we have lost him forever. I shall continue to hope for his redemption, but with less conviction than I had before.”
“I’m sorry about that, big guy. I know a bit about having family betraying and trying to kill you. Hurts deep in the gut. But you have us, and the rest of your friends and family.”
Steve remembered what he had read about that Stane guy who tried to kill Tony. Without even thinking about it, he reached over and put his hand on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. To his surprise, Tony reached up and put his hand on top of Steve’s, squeezing it back.
“Yes, yes I imagine you do. But you are right, we have each other, and that is more than enough to make up for those who have betrayed us.” His eyes flickered between Steve and Tony for a moment. “It appears that congratulations are in order. I am happy to see that you two have finally made progress, when for so long there was discordance. The tear between you has obviously begun to mend, and nothing could please me more! We must celebrate!”
And with that, he stood up and gathered them both in his giant arms for a bone crushing group hug. Steve tried his best to protect Tony from the force Thor was exerting, but he knew that he’d be bruised later.
“Ouch, Thor, can’t breathe, puny human down here!” Tony squeaked out, his voice muffled by Steve’s shirt.
Thor dropped them immediately. “I apologize, Anthony. I have been away from thee fragile mortals for too long. Now! Let us drink and be merry!”
“Thor, we fragile mortals usually don’t do that in the morning. Why don’t you give Jane a call, and we can celebrate your return tonight?” Tony being the voice of reason was a rare thing.
“You are right, of course! In fact, let us postpone our celebrations and news-sharing until the entirety of the team is safe and home once more. I shall visit Jane in the meantime. Please keep me apprised of when they are to arrive home, and I shall come immediately, and bring one of those barrels of watery mead along with me. Perhaps even Jane will come!” His face lit up with a grin at the thought.
He clapped them both on the shoulder and left the kitchen, leaving both men blinking owlishly at his sudden departure, and the silence that followed it.
Steve turned to Tony, hoping things wouldn’t be awkward after last night. “You know, since he’s been gone a while, I kind of forgot how…”
“How much he can be to take in? Yeah, me too. “Tear between us” oh honestly. And does he have to sound like a knight of the round table?”
He grinned. “A reference I understand! That was one of my favorite stories when I was growing up.”
“Know what? It was one of mine too. Aunt Peggy used to tell me about Arthur’s court sometimes when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Do you…do you still visit her?”
“Of course! I try to go once a week. We put her on a new medication for the dementia, and it’s helping some. She’s lived longer than any of us had a right to expect, so the doctors are saying that it’s just a matter of time, but I’m not giving up on her.”
“I bet she appreciates that, she’s never been the type to give up easily.”
Tony nods in agreement, then goes and gets his coffee mug and starts to refill it.
“Tony?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think I could visit her? I’ve been by to ask about her a few times, but I only went in once. They said that seeing someone from her past may make her worse.”
Tony looked at him, his eyes soft. “Of course you can visit her. If you want, you can go with me on Wednesday, that’s when I usually visit.”
“I’d like that.”
Steve ends up following Tony down to his workshop after they clean up the kitchen. He plays with the bots and sketches on some blank drafting paper while Tony tinkers and tells him stories of growing up with Aunt Peggy. He’s shocked when Jarvis tells them that it’s time for dinner, and he begins to understand how Tony forgets to take care of himself. He understands Tony a tiny bit better, he sees more clearly the separation between the public façade and the genius who has an endless thirst for knowledge and hands that are only happy creating something.
He wonders, briefly, how he could ever have confused the two, how he could’ve fallen for the façade and believed that Tony was anything other than extraordinary.