@abrooklynboy gets a vintage starter
The Avengers were not on the water often. These days, they seemed to spend half their time in the sky--whether in a plane or flying by their own accord through the Iron Man armor or Thor’s hammer or Wasp’s wings--and plenty of fights kept them grounded. So it was pure luck that they were in the water that day, the Avenger’s jet still hovering over the ocean after a fight with Namor. Dumb luck that they were mending their wounds, talking strategy and next steps when Steve Roger’s body went floating by with the ice still melting around him.
It didn’t seem real. Even after they’d dragged him inside, even after they’d gotten him to medical, even as the ice melted enough for them to see the white star on his chest and the A on his cowl, Tony had a hard time believing the body he was sitting vigil beside was the man he’d spent his whole childhood hearing about. For as long as he could remember, his father had been obsessed with the ending of Captain America, searching the seas for any sign of him, drunkenly recounting war stories and, after Tony, like every other kid his age, had made his own Captain America shield by hand so as to be like the hero he’d read about in comic books, he’d been told he would never live up to the man Steve Rogers had been, that he didn’t deserve to hold even a copy of his shield.
Tony had given up on Captain America then, thrown away his Cap lunchbox and his comics and any hope that heroes existed or that Tony could ever be considered one of them.
It was as Tony Stark that he now sat at Steve’s side, glancing distractedly between his phone and the emails he was supposed to be replying to, and the sleeping man on the hospital bed. They had brought Steve back to Avenger’s Tower where the medical wing was private and the doctor, used to treating super heroes and celebrities, wouldn’t be distracted by the fact that she had a long dead national hero on her table. Tony had kept the media at bay, kept this--Rogers--their secret for now, but that wouldn’t last forever. He had also figured that, when Rogers did finally wake up, it would be better to see a man, human and unpowered, than a 6′6″ red and gold metal suit, so, as the world still thought Tony Stark and Iron Man two separate people, Tony had told his “bodyguard” to take the rest of the day off and sent the empty armor home. The other Avengers had drifted off one by one, vowing to return as soon as there was an update.
Roger shifted, and Tony put down his phone to watch as the man’s eyes finally opened. Until that moment, he hadn’t really been sure it was possible. After all, it wasn’t every day that someone woke up after seventy years on ice.
“Morning Captain,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”
