Chapters: 7/7
Fandom: Captain America - All Media Types, Captain America (Chris Evans Movies), Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson
Characters: Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Maria Hill
Additional Tags: Post-Captain America and the Winter Soldier, pre-tfatws, Moderately Canon Compliant, What Makes Steve Rogers Happy?, Sam Wilson is a Ray of Sunshine, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha's A+ Matchmaking Skills, Mutual Pining, The hunt for Bucky Barnes, but this is NOT A BUCKY RECOVERY FIC!!!, don't come up in my house expecting Bucky to be woobified, samsteve fluff, Flirting, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Endgame never happened and no one is dead, Marvel Trumps Hate 2025 auction prize, friendly gambling, Road Trips, Angst, Sam Wilson Gets Insecure Too, they're both idiots your honor
Summary:
Steve Rogers has been the model soldier ever since he came out of the ice, still taking orders and shoving down all of his old hurts and bitter memories. In the wake of HYDRA's infiltration of SHIELD being exposed and the fall of Project: Insight, Sam and Steve are left to pick up the pieces. Sam shows Steve how to trust again, and they explore the answers to one of his earliest questions: "What makes you happy?"
As they grow closer and as Steve begins to heal, though, Sam realizes that happiness may be short-lived as they receive word through SHIELD's network that the Winter Soldier is still at large, and all of the progress that he and Steve have made could go up in smoke.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I Want You Back
by rebelmeg
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Characters: Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes
Additional Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Pepper Potts Feels, Tony Stark Feels, They both need a Hug, and they both get a hug, Introspection, working on their relationship, Listen they just love each other so much, And I have so many feels about it, Pepper realizes she had the wrong idea and fixes it immediately, Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Post-Movie: Captain America: Civil War (2016), this one made me cry
Summary:
Pepper asked for the separation when Tony couldn't let go of Iron Man. Then, when she got what she asked for, she realized just how much she was giving up. And found a way to own up to her own shortcomings, and meet the love of her life halfway.
Notes: Crossing off a handful of things with this fic! For my @tonystarkbingo square T4 – shared trauma, my @mfbingo square I4 – missing scene, and for the @whumptober Day 26 prompt “You look awful.”
"You’re such an idiot,” Tony says, rolling over and propping himself on Steve’s chest.
“I missed you,” he says, simply, as if that justifies sneaking into a country where he's considered a war criminal, the same country he'd sworn to protect, just to spend the night. Except it's much more than that. It's worth it, every time.
it’s too late to go back (i can see the darkness through the cracks) - 6.6K - Explicit
Post-CACW, Steve/Tony, Winter Soldier!Tony Stark, Steve POV
Warnings: Graphic violence, blood & gore, electrocution, Not-A-Fix-It, No Happy Ending, implied character death (but no one is actually dead I promise)
Steve rubs his hand over his tired eyes, trying to fight sleep and focus on the file in front of him. It isn’t very big and he has read it a million times at this point, but it was all the information they had about Tony.
Tony, who has been missing for nearly a year now.
The day Steve found out, the palace had been in a frenzy for a few hours already when T’Challa asked for a moment alone with Steve. He hadn’t known what to expect from the meeting, but he did know he hadn’t expected the four words that would haunt his every dream and waking moment for weeks and months to come.
“Tony Stark is missing.”
It had only been a few days since the fight in Siberia. Since Tony had seen… and then he’d tried to… and then the fighting… and Steve almost--
It had only been a few days since the fight in Siberia, then. It had been an eventful few days, between returning to Wakanda, breaking out the other Avengers from the Raft, writing Tony that letter and sending him the phone, and watching Bucky go back under in cryo. Steve had already been emotionally and mentally exhausted.
When there was a sudden flurry of movement around the palace, Steve’s first thought was that the UN had found them. Either the UN had found them or T’Challa had given up where they were. Either way, it wasn’t good.
But when T’Challa had come to Steve and told him the news, he’d almost wished it was the UN at their door.
Instead of the UN it was Rhodey and Vision. Rhodey had called T’Challa, frantic and desperate, telling T’Challa that Tony had disappeared. FRIDAY had sent coordinates of Tony’s last known location to Vision before all communication was lost. When Vision had gotten there, Tony and the suit were gone. Rhodes had said the only way to shut down communication with FRIDAY in the suit was to completely kill power to the suit. If the suit was powerless then Tony shouldn’t have been able to go anywhere on his own.
Therefore, Rhodey and Vision believed he had been taken.
Everything had devolved after that. A few days passed and Stark Industries was never contacted about ransom. A few weeks passed and no strange explosions or miraculous tech had appeared. A few months passed and the world was ready to give up, ready to declare Tony Stark KIA and give him an official funeral.
But Steve wasn’t ready.
Steve blamed himself. He blamed himself for shutting down the suit. He blamed himself for leaving Tony behind. He had just been so worried, so scared when he went after Bucky like that--
Still, simple facts were that he was the one who made the decision to bring his shield down on the arc reactor. He was the reason Tony’s suit didn’t have power. He was the one who made the decision to leave Tony behind. It was his fault.
He didn’t think anyone would argue with him on that either.
Now, though, they were running out of leads. It seemed like common sense at the time to assume HYDRA had taken Tony, given it was their old bunker they had been fighting in. However, they had checked every HYDRA hideout Clint and Natasha could find hidden in those old SHIELD dump files. They were running out of leads and sources to look through, and Clint had started insinuating that maybe they were looking in the wrong direction. Maybe whoever took Tony wasn’t HYDRA but someone else.
But they hadn’t exhausted all of their HYDRA resources yet.
“You ready to go?”
Honestly, Steve felt more than a little guilty waking Bucky from what was probably the first truly peaceful rest he’d gotten in a long time. But they were running out of places to look, and God only knew they’d long since run out of time, and Steve was too desperate to give up.
Bucky had understood of course and had willingly given any information he could. He’d known of a few places HYDRA had never actually put on a paper trail, so they had some new leads and some new information. Steve knew Bucky was probably helping partially out of a slight sense of guilt, and he knew this was hard for Bucky yet he never complained. Steve felt even more guilty at making Bucky journey back into all those awful memories, but Bucky had just shaken his head.
“I told you. Till the end of the line, punk.”
“Where did you say this place was again?” Steve asks as he stands, gathering up his files for the mission.
“Siberia,” Bucky says quietly, and Steve tries to ignore the pang in his chest, “There’s an old base in the mountains outside of an abandoned town called Kadykchan. HYDRA has been hiding in the area for decades.”
Steve nods, but he regards Bucky carefully. He’s leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets. His new, black vibranium arm (courtesy of Princess Shuri) glints in the sunlight through the window. His posture appears carefree, but his face is pinched and he’s avoiding looking Steve in the eye.
“What is it?” Steve asks bluntly.
“It’s nothing,” Bucky replies, his voice carefully blank.
“So there is something?”
Bucky sighs and looks at his shoes for a moment, running a hand through his hair in agitation.
“I just…” Buck drifts off momentarily before turning his head to look out the window.
“This base we’re going to. I’ve been there before quite a few times--”
“Buck--”
“-- it’s where they used to do all their experiments.”
Steve froze. He didn’t know how to react.
“It’s where they…” Bucky gestures with his metal arm, “...y’know.”
Steve feels horrified. “Bucky…”
“No one really knew it was there,” Bucky plows on, turning to look directly at Steve. “The only ones who knew were the guys at the top, highest level, the scientists and doctors who worked there, and… and their captives.”
“You--”
“It’s also where they’d take their new soldiers,” Bucky says quietly. “Take them there, give them the serum, keep ‘em for observation. I was usually brought in to test against the ones who made it.”
Steve’s whole body goes numb. He suddenly can’t breathe properly. He feels like he is simultaneously getting too much air, yet not enough.
“I just wanted to tell you, because...” Bucky sighs. “I know you’re hoping that we’re gonna find him this time, but, Steve? At this place? I really hope we don’t.”
Steve’s eyes slip closed and he feels his whole body try to cave in on itself. He tried not to think of the possibilities, the implications. The thought of Tony being there, alone, tortured, tormented, and experimented on--
“Did you sleep at all last night?” Bucky asked quietly, turning to lead Steve to the tarmac where the quinjet was waiting for them.
“No,” Steve replies, stepping in line beside Bucky and trying to ignore all the disgusting images going through his mind. “I don’t think I really have since…”
“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, “I haven’t really slept much either since you guys unfroze me.”
“I really am sorry, Buck,” Steve starts, heart heavy.
“I told you, it’s fine,” Bucky assures him, attempting a smile. He put a hand on Steve’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I told you, till the end of line, right?”
Steve takes a deep breath and nods.
“Besides, I know you and Stark have a… history.”
Bucky is hedging like he’s unsure how Steve will react to the subject.
“Yes, Buck, we were... screwing around before, but that doesn’t--”
“Just screwing around, huh?” Bucky is smirking slightly at him now and Steve feels a pang in his chest at the familiar look on his face.
“I mean… it might have… there might have been-- more-- involved. Possibly. It’s-- it’s not like-- I mean we were--”
“Alright pal, calm down,” Bucky says as he claps a hand on Steve shoulder, “I’m just messing with you. Let’s go find your boyfriend.”
“Bucky.”
“I’m not judging,” Bucky lifts his hands in surrender as he turns to lead them out to the jet.
Steve rolls his eyes in fond exasperation and follows after him, trying to ignore the dread and anxiety bubbling in his stomach.
A few hours later and Steve, Bucky, Sam, Clint, Natasha, and Wanda are waiting as the jet starts its descent into the mountains outside of Kadykchan.
Steve waits with dread as he tries not to imagine what they might find in that bunker. An image of Tony frozen on ice floats into his head, quickly changing to an image of Tony strapped down to a metal chair, device on his head and bite guard in his mouth as HYDRA runs electricity through his brain and his body, Tony’s jaw clenched and veins in his neck popping in an attempt not to scream, to not give them the satisfaction--
“Whatever you’re thinking about, you need to stop.”
Steve jumps as Sam walks up beside him and claps a hand onto his shoulder.
“Sorry,” Steve says gruffly, swallowing hard. “My mind was running away from me.”
“I’ll say,” Sam says, glancing back at the others before turning back to Steve, stepping closer.
“Listen,” Sam starts, “I was talking to Barnes. He told me what this place is. I know exactly what it is you’re imagining in your head right now, but you need to focus. If Stark is here then he’s gonna need to you to be on your A-game to get him out.”
“What if he doesn’t want to leave,” Steve asks quietly, fear shining through his eyes. “You know what they did to Buck. You read the file, you know what this place is. What it does. You know what we might end up facing here, Sam.”
Sam meets Steve’s eye and Steve can see Sam is remembering the same thing he is. A masked super soldier relentlessly chasing them through DC, nearly killing Nick Fury, effortlessly killing dozens of others, nearly killing Captain America as well if he hadn’t saved him from drowning in the river.
“If Stark is here and he has been HYDRA-fied, it’s only been a few months,” Sam says quietly, looking straight into Steve’s eyes, “Barnes was in their grasp for nearly 70 years and we managed to break through to him. We’ll figure it out.”
Steve nods and swallows again.
“I just--” he stutters, trying to clear his mind and get ready to focus on the mission, “if they did turn him… into-- into… you know. It’s Tony, Sam, I don’t know if I-- if I can--”
“I know,” Sam reassures him quietly, “I know what Stark means to you. I remember how you two were before all that… Civil War shit. And I know no matter what I say to you right now or what happens in that bunker, you’re going to blame yourself. But you shouldn’t. You couldn’t have known this would happen.”
Steve simply nodded again, not trusting his voice.
“Landing in five,” Clint’s voice says from overhead in the cockpit, “everyone gear up.”
Sam claps Steve on the back one more time and tries to give him a reassuring smile, not really succeeding.
“It’ll be okay,” Same says, “if it comes down to it, you’ll be able to get through to him.”
Steve mentally gives Sam kudos for actually sounding like he believed that.
The base is abandoned when they arrive.
“You know,” Clint says quietly, bow and arrow in hand, “for some reason I thought there would actually be people at this one. How is HYDRA supposed to be slowly taking over the world if all their bases are abandoned?”
“Not all of them,” Bucky says gruffly, face pale as he looks around, “just the ones people still know about.”
“That’s reassuring,” Clint mumbles under his breath.
“Quiet with the chatter,” Natasha snaps over the comms from where she is ahead of the group with Steve. Clint grumbles but doesn’t say anything.
“It was recently abandoned,” Wanda says from where she has stopped by a group of desks with computers on them. They were standing in some sort of office room near the back of the base.The desks themselves look like they were hastily packed, papers strewn about and drawers left hanging open from where they had been violently pulled apart.
“Why do you say that?” Steve asks, turning back and walking to stand next to Wanda.
She lifts a hand and places it on the side of a computer tower on the desk in front of her.
“Still warm,” she says, eyes wide, “they’ve been on very recently.”
“They must’ve gotten wind we were coming somehow,” Bucky said, lowering his gun slightly. “They must have a watch stationed further out. Maybe radar or something that saw us coming and warned them.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees quietly, trying to ignore the disappointment he feels bubbling in his stomach.
It’s probably a good thing there’s nothing there. They’d looked all through the bunker by that point and hadn’t found anyone. They’d found the old training room, the holding rooms and cryo-chambers of the old soldiers, and even the wiping chair, but there had been no one around. Everything… looked like it hadn’t been touched in a couple years.
Apparently not true, but nonetheless, as of that moment there was nothing there for them.
And if nothing is here… that means Tony might be… Tony might not have been….
It’s probably just wishful thinking on Steve’s part at this point that HYDRA hasn’t done something horrible to Tony yet considering how long he’s been missing.
“Alright,” Steve says louder, turning to the group assembled behind him. “If there’s nothing else here to see then I think we should turn around and head back. Bucky says there are still a couple of bases we can check, so if there really isn’t anything here then we shouldn’t waste any more time.”
He had tried to keep his commanding Captain Voice to hide his disappointment at not finding anything, but judging by the sympathetic looks on everyone else’s faces, he hadn’t succeeded.
“Well,” Clint says as they all start making their way to the front of the bunker, “at least we didn’t have to fight any more winter soldiers.”
“I can fight you if you’re that desperate,” Bucky says, face completely straight.
“Nope,” Clint says, side-eyeing Bucky and moving to stand behind Nat, “nope, I’m not doing that, thanks.”
Natasha rolls her eyes and shoves Clint away.
Steadily they make their way back to the front of the building so they can start the journey back to Wakanda. They walk back through the training room and the room with the chair in the middle, chambers lining the walls. Steve watches the way Bucky eyes the chair, gaze blank but his face extremely pale.
Steve catches his eye and raises an eyebrow, but Bucky simply shakes his head and tightens his hands on his rifle before moving ahead and not looking back.
A while later they all turn the corner to the exit and Steve feels the air inside of him freeze as he takes in the sight that is before them. He hears the others behind him gasp and curse as they realize what it is that they’re seeing in front of them.
There, making his way towards the hall to exit the bunker from the other side, is a man in all black kevlar, long, lanky brown hair, and a black mask that covers everything from his eyebrows down to his chin. He has holsters on both legs holding two handguns, and he’s carrying what looks like a duffel bag full of more weapons.
The man looks up and freezes as well as he apparently meets Steve’s eyes behind his masked ones.
Everyone is frozen looking at each other for a few moments before the soldier seems to come to his senses. He straightens up and drops the duffle bag behind him, hands coming up in front of him as he cracks his knuckles and takes a clearly offensive stance, ready to fight them.
“You had to say it, didn’t you,” Steve hears Sam grumble to Clint from behind him.
Steve can hear everyone gearing up and getting ready to fight as they stare each other down for a few moments.
Steve opens his mouth to tell everyone to make their move when the soldier suddenly lunges toward them all.
Steve lunges to the side to avoid a direct punch to the face and sees Clint and Bucky step up from behind him to take on the man.
Clint pulls an arrow from his quiver, but before he has the opportunity to latch it, the winter soldier is in front of him. Clint tries to fight him off but a hard kick to the shin and a quick swipe of the leg has Clint falling down to one knee.
Clint watches in horror as the soldier grabs the bow from his hand and proceeds to bend the metal in half. The soldier throws the bow down at Clint’s feet before turning to face Bucky. Bucky quickly lunges forward to meet him.
“I thought Zemo killed all the other Winter Soldiers!”
“He did,” Bucky yells back as he dodges another blow, “those were all the ones they had!”
“Well obviously HYDRA had a secret stash lying around somewhere!” Clint screams, finally leaving his bow and climbing back to his feet, pulling a gun from its thigh holster.
Clint fires a couple of shots at the soldier’s back and openly gapes as the bullets hit the jacket only to bounce right back off. The spot where they struck the jacket lights up a bright blue before the bullets fall harmlessly to the ground at the soldier’s feet.
“The hell did HYDRA get that tech?” Clint curses under his breath as he tries to recalculate what to do next.
Bucky swings at the soldier’s head with his metal arm, but the soldier simply bends backwards to avoid the hit, his own fists coming up one right after the other to punch Bucky in the sternum. It leaves Bucky a little breathless for a moment but it doesn’t stop him from swinging his leg up and around in a kick to try and hit the other man’s head. The soldier once again ducks down to avoid the hit, and while Bucky it turned around the soldier quickly raises his own leg to spartan kick Bucky in his lower back. The kick is apparently stronger than it looks because it sends Bucky forward a couple feet into the air and Bucky has to scramble to not land on his face at the unexpected hit.
The man seems to pause for a second to gain his bearings and Steve takes a minute to watch him.
This soldier is smaller than the two men he’d been fighting, less muscular and more lean. He moves with grace, quick on his feet because the lack of bulk like Bucky and Steve have makes it easier to maneuver around them. The lack of bulk does not mean a lack of strength, however, as his fighting seems to indicate he has some level of super strength on par with other winter soldiers, which is a lot. His greasy hair hangs in his face over the mask in matted, tangled curls.
While Bucky is down, the soldier stops to press a button on his wrists, and slowly a black metal materializes from somewhere moving like liquid, forming protective gloves over his hands. They light up a bright blue as electricity spreads through them, the power in them so strong the electricity jumps in staticy-blue arcs between the fingers like miniature lightning.
He turns back toward Clint, fingers curled like claws as the electricity bounces between the tips of his fingers.
“Oh, hell no,” Clint says, eyeing the gloves warily.
The soldier takes a step toward Clint when suddenly the air fills with a whooshing sound and somebody is shouting.
“Barton, get down!”
Clint drops to the ground just as Sam comes flying forward, flipping around in the air so his legs are facing forward and double kicks the soldier in the chest at high speed, sending him flying backwards.
Sam lands and Wanda comes up behind him, fingers already lit up red as the soldier gets back to his feet and runs back toward them.
Sam runs forward to face the soldier head on, using his wings to jump over the other man whenever he tries to swipe at Sam with his gloves. Sam manages to hold his own for a few punches, even managing to land another kick to the soldiers face while he was mid-jump.
Sam jumps through the air again to avoid another swipe by the electric gloves, but the soldier seems to have figured out his pattern because as soon as Sam jumps the soldier jumps with him, hands grabbing onto the falcon wing pack. He swings Sam around so that Sam hangs in front of him, and the electric blue of his gloves grows more intense and cackles as the soldier pours the current into the wings.
Sam cries out a little from where the electricity shocks him, the wings now shutting down and sparking under the onslaught of the shocks.
“It’s an EMP, someone stop him!” Sam shouts with pain in his voice.
Wanda lifts her hands and suddenly the soldier’s hands and arms are surrounded by the red of Wanda’s magic. She tries to get his fingers to let go of the suit but she seems to be struggling as if the soldier is able to fight back against her powers. His arms jerk suddenly, and instead of his fingers unclenching both of the soldier’s arms go flying the the air, taking Sam with them.
“No!” Wanda shouts and tries to dissipate her power, but it’s too late.
The soldier’s arms fling forcefully to the side as if he had literally tried to throw Wanda’s power off of himself. The red of Wanda’s magic faded halfway through and at the last second the soldier let go of Sam’s wing pack. The force of the throw sends Sam flying to the other side of the room before he crashes into the wall, his head hitting the wall with a sickening crack before he falls to the ground. He doesn’t get back up.
The soldier pays Sam no mind and immediately turns toward Wanda, apparently identifying her as the bigger threat.
He makes a few swipes a her that she manages to dodge and weave around, pushing his hands away with her magic when his gloves get too close. Steve tries to throw his shield and get the soldier to stop, but the other man simply ducks as the shield hits the wall and bounces back to Steve’s hand. Bucky and Clint are both shooting at the soldier but the bullets just bounce off his back like they had when they tried before.
Steve realizes before Wanda does that the soldier is herding her into a corner, trying to get her back against the wall so she can no longer slide by him and escape.
“Wanda! He--”
The soldier lunges forward and Wanda brings her arms up, fingers working furiously through the air and then the soldier is held frozen, both of his arms and chest held in place by the red light, unmoving.
The soldier struggles and grunts against the magic, but he doesn’t move.
“He should be stuck now,” Wanda says through clenched teeth, her face scrunched up in concentration, “but hurry, I don’t know how long I can hold him.”
The soldier snarls at her behind his mask.
“Okay,” Steve says, looking around at the others, “how are we going to--”
“CAP!”
Steve turns and sees Wanda watching the soldier in horror. Her hands are still working furiously to keep him in place, but he is using his super strength against her and using his legs to push against it as much as he can. Steve watches as though in slow motion as the soldier’s hands, still cackling with electricity, jerkily move so they are extended in front of him. His palms aren’t flat, instead his fingers are outstretched and curled as if he’s trying to grab at Wanda’s jacket. There’s a whirring sound as the electricity builds up in the gloves, and even though the pose and the move is convoluted, twisted and more sinister, there is something about it that is familiar all the same. Watching it makes the bottom drop out of Steve’s stomach as he imagines another gauntleted hand making a similar gesture--
Before anyone can react, the electricity gathering in his fingers and in his palms shoot out from his hands toward Wanda, striking her on her open, unprotected side. Immediately she lights up bright blue as electricity seems to travel throughout her body, her back bowing in midair as she’s electrocuted. She throws her head back and a gut-wrenching scream is ripped from her throat as her body convulses from the electricity still being poured into her. Her body seems to lift off the ground for a moment before suddenly the electricity stops and she drops to the ground. They all watch as she drops motionless except for the occasional twitch from a limb.
Nobody moves as they all stare in horror wondering if Wanda is even still alive. Steve can barely breathe for all that his lungs seem to have stopped working.
Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Clint moves forward. He runs up to the soldier and jumps, spins, and kicks, his heel connecting with the side of the soldier’s face, disconnecting the mask--
The mask falls--
Time stands still and Steve feels as if the Hulk punched him in the chest, a strong ache in his heart as all the oxygen leaves his body and the room.
“Tony?”
Tony stares at them impassively, not seeming to care that his mask has been removed and not appearing to recognize Steve at all.
No. God, no. Not again, not again, no, this can’t be happening, this couldn’t be real--
Tony moves quickly, lifting a metal fist to bring it down hard on Clint’s head. Distracted as he is by the reveal, Clint goes down quickly, legs crumpling beneath him before he lay still on the ground. Blood drips down from his forehead and down his face, split open from the hit, but his chest is still moving.
Tony pushes forward and tries to move around them to get to the exit, apparently deciding he is wasting his time staying here to fight them.
He was trying to escape. To go where Steve couldn’t follow, to go back to those people, the ones who had turned him into this, to where Steve couldn’t help him--
Steve takes a step forward and places himself between Tony and his destination. Tony stops and stares at him, face still blank. Bucky is quietly creeping up steadily behind Tony, trying to sneak up on him.
Tony must’ve heard something anyway because he turns around, swinging his arm around to Bucky’s head. Bucky catches the gloved metal fist with his own and shoves it back. They’re fighting again now, Bucky and Tony, old soldier to new. Tony appears to be more defensive than offensive this time, seemingly wanting to simply escape the attack so he can get away rather than try to kill them to escape.
Bucky appears to have the upper hand, slowly moving forward and thus pushing Tony back until he is closer to Steve. Just a little closer… come on, just a little…
Faster than any of them can blink, Tony goes from defensive to offensive, quickly showing that he had been holding a lot back until now. He spun in the air, striking his leg out so his foot hits Bucky across the jaw so hard Steve hears a crack. Bucky’s head turns so quickly and so far Steve is almost worried Tony has snapped Bucky’s neck.
Tony lands and immediately, while Bucky is still disoriented, drags his other leg under Bucky’s and knocks him to the ground. Tony climbs on top of him before Buck can get back up, punching him hard with his metal hand once, twice, three times in the face. Steve can hear the snap and crack of bones under Tony’s fist, blood pouring from Bucky’s nose, mouth, and face. Tony swings one more time, this time winding his arm completely up and behind his head before swinging it down with full force, striking Bucky so hard his head snaps to the side, splattering the wall beside him with blood.
It’s obvious HYDRA has given Tony some kind of serum, probably the same one they’d once killed Howard Stark for. Just the thought of that possibility makes Steve feel sick.
Tony sits straddled atop Bucky for a moment to catch his bearings before he wipes the blood from his face with his sleeve and pushes himself to his feet. He picks up the gun Clint had dropped in the fight and turned towards Steve who has moved to block the exit.
Steve was gearing up to fight Tony, Tony slipping once again into a fighting stance--
--when suddenly there is an angry yell and someone launches themselves onto Tony’s back. He lurches forward from the unexpected weight but quickly corrects himself. He grabs onto one of the legs wrapped around his waist and tugs, hard.
Natasha tries to twist out of the grab at the same time and only ends up succeeding in landing flat on her back on the floor, all the air knocked out of her. Immediately Tony is there grabbing her by the throat and lifting her bodily from the ground, one handed, shoving her so hard against the wall Steve watches her head bounce back off of it, can hear the wet smack of it from across the room. Pain dances across her face before she can cover it.
She grabs at his hand as it squeezes tighter around her throat, nails clawing at the kevlar armor Tony is wearing. Tony’s face is blank, his eyes empty, no emotion, no reaction at all to the fact that he is strangling his friend, his teammate, in the middle of--
“Tony.”
Natasha has stopped struggling and is simply clinging to Tony’s arm instead. Her face is turning blue but she looks him in the eye, expression filled with more emotion and vulnerability than Steve has seen from her in a long time.
Tony’s grip on her neck is still tight, but apparently something has changed that Steve cannot see, because Natasha tries again.
“Tony, please.”
Tony’s face flickers with something and his eyes widen slightly.
“Come on, Tony,” Natasha can barely speak now, her throat so constricted and her body quickly getting weaker from lack of oxygen.
“You know me. Tony… Tony, you know--”
Tony’s grip lessens an obvious amount, his knuckles no longer white. Natasha draws in a deep breath, dragging in air on reflex before gagging on it and breaking into hacking, wheezing coughing.
Tony’s hand has dropped to the side and Natasha falls, just barely managing to land on her feet. His body is motionless as he stares at Natasha. His eyes seem brighter, and Steve thinks he can see some glint of recognition in his face the longer Tony looks at Natasha.
Natasha finally stops coughing but her breath is coming out in short gasps and her voice comes out as a hoarse whisper.
“Tony…. Please…. You know me. You know me, Tony.”
Tony’s eyes meet hers. Steve is frozen, eyes on Tony waiting to see what he will do next.
“Tony….”
As suddenly as it appears it’s vanished, the recognition on his face gone before it falls back into the blank, empty shell of a mask it was before.
“Тони здесь нет.”
Steve jerks back in time with Natasha as the gunshot rings out.
Natasha’s mouth is open and her eyes are wide as she stares at Tony in shock before looking down at her own stomach. She lays a hand there and Steve feels his heart clench when he sees it come away with a lot of blood.
Steve watches in open mouthed horror as Natasha slides down the wall, leaving a bloody trail in her wake. Tony is raising the gun both Steve and Natasha had forgotten was in his hand, pointing it at Steve.
“Переехать.”
“Tony,” Steve whispers, holding his hands up in surrender, “Tony, please.”
“Переехать,” Tony says again, voice a little louder a little firmer.
“Tony, it’s me,” Steve choked, his voice caught on the lump in his throat. He can feel the burning behind his eyes, his throat constricting as he struggles to keep his emotions in check.
“Baby, please,” he begs, hands raised in plea, “this isn’t right. This isn’t who you are.”
Steve tries to take a step forward but Tony takes a step back. His face is blank, but his deep brown eyes are as expressive as ever, and Steve can see the fear and confusion inside of them. Tony’s eyes were always his giveaway.
“Переехать!”
Steve flinches at the bellow and takes a step back. Tony’s eyes are wide and bright and wild, his face pale, his body shaking slightly where he stands from how tense he is.
“It’s me, Tony, it’s Steve,” he says, raising a hand and pulling his cowl from his face. He feels his hopes brighten at the way Tony’s eyes widen just a fraction in recognition.
“Baby, it’s me, please,” Steve whispers, putting a hand out, palm up towards Tony. He feels oddly like he is talking to a frightened, wounded animal.
He supposes, in a way, he is.
Tony’s eyebrows crease just so in confusion. The tension in his arms lessens and he lowers the gun slightly.
“It’s okay,” Steve reassures him, a nervous smile flitting across his face, “it’s okay, Tony. No one is going to hurt you, okay? Put the gun down. You can come with me.”
The gun lowers some more until it’s pointed at the ground at Steve’s feet. Tony’s eyes narrow slightly, his whole face breaking down into confusion as he stares at Seve with a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.
“Steve,” he breathes, his voice hoarse.
“It’s okay,” Steve says, hope and relief coursing through his veins, “sweetheart, it’s okay. We’re here to help you, okay? We’re here to bring you home.”
Tony’s hand is loose around the gun now, the weapon hanging limply in his hand. Tony’s eyes are wide and suspiciously bright. He looks so confused and shaken, face still dotted and smeared with Bucky’s blood, and Steve’s heart nearly breaks at how unstable and utterly broken Tony looks at that moment.
Steve shuffles forward just another inch, his hand still held out for Tony to choose to take. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, up his throat, and into his ears as he watches Tony’s eyes flicker from his face down to his outstretched hand.
“Tony…” Steve whispers, desperation clear in his expression.
Tony takes a step forward and raises the hand not holding the gun. The electricity has long gone from the gloves, and Steve watches with quiet hope as the glove of Tony’s right hand retracts to reveal skin.
Tony’s fingers are just brushing Steve’s and Steve can feel the warmth radiating from them.
“Steve,” Tony whispers again, “I--”
And suddenly Tony is jerking his hand back, his entire body jerking back and the gun in his hand clamors to the ground as Tony’s hands suddenly reach up to grab at his own head.
Steve watches in quiet horror as Tony starts to pull at his own hair as he collapses to his knees. The room suddenly fills with Tony’s screams as some unseen force causes him intense, unimaginable pain. Screams tear from his throat, his back arching as he collapses to the ground, grabbing at his head, pulling his hair, and scratching both his gloved and uncovered hand at his face leaving gouges and trails of blood behind.
“Tony,” Steve shouts, moving closer to where Tony fell but unsure how to help him, “Tony, wha--”
Tony starts convulsing against the ground, screams growing louder as whatever is causing him pain seems to intensify. He picks up his uncovered fist and start hitting himself on the head to try and stop the pain, biting his lip to keep from screaming. Steve hovers over Tony, hands outstretched but unsure how to help as Tony lifts his head and bangs it on the ground once, twice, three times before suddenly the screaming stops and Tony stops moving.
Steve swallows back the nausea in his throat when he sees the blood spattered on the ground from where Tony had tried to bash his brains in. He stays kneeled next to Tony, unsure what to do. Tony is still alive - there are short whimpers coming from him and his chest is heaving as if he had just run a marathon. The rest of the bunker is silent as Tony recovers from whatever torture he’s just been subjugated to in his own head.
Steve shuffles forward a bit on his knees and slowly reaches a hand out towards Tony’s shoulder.
“Tony..?” Steve whispers, the sound barely more than a breath of air.
His fingers just barely brush against Tony’s shoulder--
Before Steve could even register what was happening, Tony flips over on the ground and kicks out with both legs, sending Steve flying back through the air. While Steve is distracted, Tony grabs the gun off the ground and kicks back up to his feet, and when Steve finally gets back to his feet it’s to find Tony a few feet from him, gun pointed straight between Steve’s eyes.
All recognition is gone from Tony’s face and eyes. His face is once again the carefully controlled blank slate that it was when they first arrived, the same look Steve had seen on Bucky’s face all those years ago in DC.
Mind wipe. They don’t even need the chair to do it anymore… they implanted it in his head.
Steve feels like his whole body has been drenched in cold water and he can barely breathe as he watches Tony slowly walk toward him, gun aloft. Tony is extremely pale, nose and forehead split open and dripping blood from where he banged his face against the concrete floor. His lip is sluggishly bleeding from where he bit through it trying to stop his screams.
Steve feels the tears gather in his eyes as he watches Tony stare impassively at him, all humanity seemingly gone.
Tony cocks his gun.
“Tony…” Steve begs, tears slowly slipping down his cheeks, “Tony, god… please…”
So quickly Steve thinks he might have imagined it, something flickers in Tony’s eyes before returning to the same emptiness they held before.
Steve holds his breath. Slowly, his eyes slip shut. He waits.
Nothing happens.
“Вы не мое задание,” Tony says quietly.
Tony moves quickly, pointing his gun back down. Steve feels a searing pain through his shin as the gunshot rings out and he stumbles to the side to try and coordinate himself.
Tony kicks his shin where the bullet has hit and Steve falls down with an agonized screech. Tony takes this moment of distraction, moving around Steve as he falls and walking calmly towards the exit.
Steve can hear helicopters from outside and figures that is Tony’s ride out of this place. He watches from the floor with tears in his eyes and down his face as Tony picks up his mask, slips it back on his face, and walks calmly out the exit without a backwards glance, leaving Steve surrounded by the carnage of the fallen Avengers.
They stared at one another from across the room, two years older, two years wearier. Steve’s hair had grown, and he had a beard. New lines covered his face. His eyes were heavy; Tony remembered there had used to be a spark there, once.
They talked, because they had to talk. Because this was bigger than them- this was half the entire universe that needed saving, there was no time for personal issues here. And anyway- Tony worked well with Steve. He always had. He tried not to look too deep into that, for fear of what he would find- but for the time being, he was content to let Steve back in, if only on the surface. So that hey could fight the good fight, just like before.
(Not just like before. Never just like before, when they’d shared smiles and beds and kisses and promises, all broken now.)
Steve had learned, since he’d been gone, how to hide his face. Shield all his feelings from the world and paint a blank canvas there. He was no longer the open book that Tony had known, and he kind of hated that. It had always used to be so easy, knowing what the other man was thinking.
Now, there was just emptiness. Tony wondered how much Steve had lost since he’d started running. It was enough to change him on a fundamental level, at the very least. Tony didn’t bother thinking it was because of him- not even he was narcissistic enough to believe Steve had ever cared for him to that degree.
As the months passed; as they planned and schemed and worked out a solution to the gaping hole that there now was in the Earth’s population. Tony found himself falling back into some of the old routines of before- he would make Steve his morning coffee at the same time he prepared his own, not even needing to think about the way Steve liked it, because the knowledge was all still there. Every piece that Steve had left behind was still present- two years, and Tony hadn’t forgotten a single detail.
And Steve... Steve sometimes found him, on the nights when sleep refused to come- and he would never reach out and talk to Tony, not like before, but Tony always woke up on the couch with a blanket tucked around him and a pillow under his neck, holding his head at a better angle to prevent it from aching. Tony knew the familiarity of the action, even if he never thanked Steve for it personally.
And then there was the sex.
Tony had no idea how it had (re)started. Too much loss, to much hurt, and maybe they’d both just been desperate to feel something else, anything at all. And they’d always known what the other had wanted.
It wasn’t like before. Nothing was like before. Two years ago, it would have been slow and gentle and kinder. Now it was more frantic- grabbing and pulling and harsh, Tony sucking bites into the still-soft skin of Steve’s collar so hard that not even the serum would make it fade overnight, and Steve pinning Tony’s hands to the bed in a grip that was impossible to even shift from. Steve had always been careful- still was, even now- but there just something wild to his actions that Tony had never seen before. A sort of manic desire. Tony would’ve called it longing, but he couldn’t quit bring himself to think it. It would get him carried away, thinking that Steve had missed him. Them.
It was over after what felt like an eternity and the blink of an eye all at the same time, and when Tony collapsed onto the bed with a breathy whimper, he almost thought he felt the sensation of a kiss upon his sweat-slicked neck. It almost felt like Steve cared, the way he wiped Tony down and pushed the untamed and greying curls out of his face.
But he didn’t. Because even if he hesitated for a second, Steve still left afterward, shutting the door with a quiet click and leaving without saying anything other than ‘sleep well, Tony’.
Tony didn’t look over. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to do that. Instead, he waited until Steve had left, and then tilted his head to the side, staring at the space Steve had vacated.
“I wish I could hate you,” he whispered, feeling the ghosting sensation of Steve’s hot breath over his neck, tasting the remains of him on his lips and knowing without a moment of hesitation that he would do all of it again- even if it hurt every time like a knife to the chest, and even if it was all he was ever going to be allowed to get from Steve Rogers.
He’d do it. Because, at the end of the day, hating Steve might have been something he wished to do, but he knew it was something he was physically incapable of, too.
On the other side of the door to Tony’s room, Steve rested his forehead and shut his eyes, thinking of the millions of other things that he wished so very desperately he could do instead of leave. Crawl back to Tony, bury under the sheets and hold him like he’d used to, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.
Steve hadn’t wanted to fuck him. He’d wanted to make love to him, the way they’d used to. But he knew that Tony would’n’t have accepted that. Not now, after everything. Steve knew he didn’t deserve anything at all from Tony, let alone love, but Tony had offered sex instead, and Steve...
He’d take whatever he could get.
Through the wood of the door, he heard Tony breathe in sharply, and Steve listened in, just in time to hear Tony speak.
“I wish I could hate you” the man said, his voice quiet, sad.
Steve shut his eyes, pressing his fingertips to the door. So many things had gone wrong. So many. If he could go back and change them, he’d do it. A thousand times over.
But he couldn’t. This was what he had now- Tony wishing that he could hate Steve, but not quite being able to bring himself to. This is what their relationship had been reduced to.
He swallowed. “And I’m glad you don’t,” he responded, too quiet for Tony to ever be able to hear, before turning and walking back down the corridor.
Title: Still In Your Mind, Still In Your Heart
Fandom: Avengers (MCU)
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: T
Words: ~4300
Summary: Tony’s taken Stark Tower and its employees hostage, with one single command: Steve Rogers must come to the tower. Alone.
Notes: Another hopeful ending without full forgiveness… sorry?
Tags: Mind Control, Mind Games, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Torture, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post CACW
By the time Steve likely understood Tony’s situation, it had already become far too late.
Tony had been standing on the top of Stark Tower, still clad in his armor after taking over the building and naming it his “hostage.” Fifteen minutes before Tony’s countdown ran out – fifteen minutes before he would have killed Oliver, one of his human resources managers – Steve finally showed up. He arrived armored, with his shield up. Tony knew Steve realized something was off when the blond gasped. Only then did he take off his mask and grin.
His eyes were glassy.
“Hi, Steve,” Tony said, and waggled his fingers. The child beside the door – beside Steve – did the same. She giggled, a sound almost too young for her pre-teen face. “Surprised? I suppose you would be. After all, why wouldn’t I try to take over the world?” He beamed.
Steve’s lips thinned. “Tony can be boneheaded sometimes,” he said, “and he might often think he’s the only one able to save the world. But he wouldn’t kill people like this.”
“Ah,” the girl said, grinning widely. She motioned Tony forward. “But he has. And he’s enjoyed it.” Tony stepped toward Steve until he stood just feet away. “Haven’t you, Mr. Tony?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. Steve flinched at the sound of his voice. For a moment, he was confused. Did Steve even care enough to get upset like that? About him? A feeling like brain freeze consumed him, then the world went white and foggy once more, and he didn’t care.
“You’re the child I’ve seen on the news. The one Tony fostered – supposedly fostered,” he said, correcting himself with a significant look. “Who are you?” Steve asked. The question, though Steve looked at Tony, was not directed at him.
“My name’s Casey,” the girl said, unnecessarily proud. She pulled up her cauliflower-colored hair and wrapped it in a messy ponytail. The decals on her shirt flashed “PEACHY.” “I made Tony my dad.”
“Why did you demand I come up here?” Steve asked. From the sound of his voice, his teeth were gritted.
“Why, to give you both the reunion you so wished for.” The girl giggled and gestured to Tony. “Did you know? He thinks about you a lot. He even has a room in this tower dedicated to you. His obsession must go back years.” Steve turned his gaze to Tony, but Tony did nothing but smile. “So why don’t we play a game?”
The girl bounced on the balls of her feet. She walked around Steve as if he wouldn’t touch her, wouldn’t harm her. He probably wouldn’t. She was only a kid. Still, that didn’t mean Steve was happy. He gnashed his teeth. “A game,” he repeated, his tone low and flat. The warning that came just before the punishment. The girl scowled at it and danced away. The decals on her shirt flashed and sparkled.
“Mr. Tony,” she said imperiously, and held out her hand. He took it with a grin. She looked to Steve, and there was no echo of Tony’s expression on her face. She looked like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.
Tony gasped suddenly, as if coming up for air. He shook visibly, even within the armor. But when he moved as if to bend down, suddenly he stood still, then straight. His lips twisted into a grimace. His eyes looked hollow. Casey grinned. “A game,” she said. Tony looked down at the hand gently gripping hers. It didn’t move, but Steve could imagine how the man felt about it. “How about truth or dare?” She glared at Steve. “You first, captain.”
Steve clenched his fists, only to look surprised that he was able to. He clearly tried to do more, but after a few moments, he gave up. His mouth opened, even as his lips curled back. “Dare.”
She giggled. Leaned on Tony’s arm. “I dare you to take off your armor.”
Steve grimaced again. He was already in a vulnerable position. It would be suicide to obey. Nonetheless, his hands rose to the sides of his cowl and peeled it back, yanking his hair into disarray. His armor held a thin bulletproof vest within, a design once tested and perfected by Tony himself. Stripping out of it meant stripping down to his bare chest, nothing but a tight muscle shirt beneath, and moving his shield from one hand to the other and back, though he was still allowed to hold it after. The top portion of his suit hung around his upper legs like a malformed skirt. Tony’s gaze momentarily dropped. Casey laughed outright.
Steve was able to stop before he shed his pants, as well, and Casey applauded. “Well done, Captain! Your turn, Mr. Tony!”
Tony stiffened. Shook. Steve watched the man’s lips tremble open. Steve wanted to wrench her away from him, to shove her off the top of the building. “Dare.”
That grin widened significantly, as if she hadn’t expected the word. As if she hadn’t forced Tony to say it. “Well! Okay! I dare you… hmm,” she said, putting a finger to her lips and pretending to think it over. She snapped her fingers. “I dare you to hold yourself hostage.”
For a moment, nothing happened, as the nonsensical words filtered in. Tony’s brows pulled low. Then, slowly, Tony raised his arm and pointed the palm of his free hand toward his own temple. The repulsor whirred to life. Steve wrenched himself forward. He barely managed a single step before he was caught in place once again. Casey stomped her foot like a child. “No!” she screeched. “You play!”
Steve snarled. His lips opened of their own accord, no matter how hard he fought them. “Dare.”
For a moment, she stared, then finally relaxed again. A sound of delight slipped through her lips. “Good! Don’t wanna lose to Mr. Tony, huh, captain?”
Steve glared at her. He gripped his shield tight.
“Well, I know the perfect thing!” she said, laughing madly. She actually bounced where she stood. Tony’s hand, still in hers, bounced with her. “You should save the world! Just like you came here to do. Hit Mr. Tony like you did before.”
Steve froze. Tony hissed. Hunched his shoulders, just a bit, as if trying to protect himself. “That’s not,” Steve said, “what I came here to do!” Still, he raised his shield. Manipulate your surroundings, Rogers! He’d been dared to save the world. Just like he’d come here to do.
He threw his shield.
The girl screamed. She covered her face with her free hand, and suddenly Tony was stepping in front of her, pulling his hand free from hers to block it. The shield banged loudly against the metal, pinging into Tony’s gauntlet before ricocheting back. Tony’s interference caused the shield to bounce slightly off-balance. It careened off the back of the tower, passing only a couple of feet from where Steve stood in the process. With him unable to move freely, it might as well have been a mile away.
“How dare you!” she said. Tony stepped away once more, his other hand still, unceasingly pointed at his own head. “How dare you! How dare you! How dare you!”
Tony took a deep breath. “He wasn’t able to stop your game,” he said, his voice low. Calm. As if gentling a beast. Steve stared wide-eyed at him. “St – the captain – he just got mad. You know what that’s like, right? But that doesn’t mean he can do anything. He didn’t even throw it all that hard. He doesn’t like hurting children.”
She scowled, her face red. “I don’t care! He should be punished!”
“No,” Tony said quickly. “That’s not necessary. Besides, if you punish him, that means he can’t play the game anymore. Don’t you want us to play your game, sweetie?”
Protecting him. Steve couldn’t believe it. They hadn’t seen each other since they’d fought in Siberia, yet here Tony was, trying to turn her attention away from him. His heart beat tight in his chest. He hadn’t thought anything even close to it could be possible ever again.
Casey gripped Tony’s hand once more, digging tightly into the metal. She glared at Steve. Several moments passed, Tony sending short looks toward Steve’s shield, his gaze intent. Steve had seen that look before, usually when he found Stark in his lab. “It’s okay,” Casey said suddenly, breaking Steve’s concentration. She curled around Tony’s hand, careful to put his arm in between her and Steve. “He can be punished while playing the game.” She looked up at Tony. “Your turn.”
He looked down at her. With his repulsor still trained on his own head, his skin looked unnaturally pale. It reminded Steve of what Tony looked like after he and Bucky had been done with him. Pasty. “Truth,” he whispered, and Steve could see the way his shoulders slackened. Tony, at least, had been spared another dare.
Yet Casey, her fine hair already falling out of her shoddy ponytail, looked a bit too pleased. “Tell him why what he did in Siberia hurt.”
Tony stiffened. His gaze snapped to Steve. He opened his mouth, then stopped. He cleared his throat. “Because I love him.”
His voice was raw, as if the words scratched up his throat to his lips. Casey stared at Steve, her gaze almost vindictive. “Captain?” she asked, her voice saccharine sweet.
Steve looked at Tony. There was too much pain in his eyes suddenly for that confession to be fake. He thought back wildly through every conversation he’d had with Tony, every moment he’d spent around the man. He hadn’t caught on. He hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary. Yet suddenly, he realized that sometimes, Tony would stand a little too close. What he’d thought was an inability to sense personal boundaries might have been, well, something else entirely. And when Tony’s gaze would linger on him, watching what he’d thought to be a moment of weakness, or perhaps a glance to see if he’d started a fight – had it been a check, a look like a child might make, to see if his words or actions were accepted? How many tiny moments had been misconstrued between them? How many times had Steve acted defensively, shoved Tony away when the man hadn’t been reaching to hurt, but to be accepted?
“Truth,” he said, and felt something scratch in his throat, as well.
He’d been so afraid, all this time, that the unnatural, unacceptable piece of his heart might come out, might be stomped on by this son of an old friend, that he’d taken everything to be an attack. He’d needed it to be an attack, because if it wasn’t, then it might become too obvious that he wanted to reach out, as well. And now? Now here they were, months past between them, an ocean of scars tainting anything they might have made – everything they’d failed to make, a broken team before they’d ever become one.
“Tell him why you hurt him, captain,” she said.
The itch in his throat got worse. He breathed in and wanted to cough. “Because I can’t stand him.”
Tony closed his eyes. The whir of the repulsor sent the pale blue light flashing over Tony’s brow and cheek.
“Doesn’t that sound familiar, Mr. Tony?” Casey asked, her grin nothing short of serpentine. She swung Tony’s arm back and forth. “How does that make you feel?”
Steve saw the instant she placed Tony back under her full control. His eyes went glassy, and every small line of tension in his face, in the body beneath the armor, untensed like cut strings. “Dare,” Tony said as answer.
His repulsor whirred even before she spoke. Steve’s heart pounded into his throat. “I dare you to show him how that makes you feel.”
“Tony, don’t,” Steve said. The words slipped out of his mouth before he even thought about them, but the loud, warning hum of the repulsor fell as soon as it rose. Tony stared at him. Casey glared at Steve. The itch in his throat turned into a stone. Steve winced at the sensation.
“We’re. Playing,” she said. “If you don’t do it, you’re cheating.”
Said the child who forced Steve to lie. But when he opened his mouth to say it, nothing came out. He looked back at Tony. The repulsor whined. Steve yanked every muscle, but couldn’t move. Tony’s empty gaze met his just before the repulsor flared with a roar. Tony fell to his knees, then his side. He didn’t move.
“There!” Casey clapped. “What a nice reunion! Aren’t you happy?”
Slowly, Steve turned his gaze on her. A young child, taking peoples’ lives as if it meant nothing. Taking over their minds like it was a game. “Why?” he asked, his voice dead. He’d abandoned his vigil over Bucky, had placed himself in open view of Ross and his armies, had dared venture into Tony’s domain. Stupidly, he’d hoped to talk Tony down, to perhaps breach the gap between them. Instead he’d been given this. What had been the point? Maybe it would have been better if he never would have come. Maybe Tony…
“Why?” She laughed. “You tried to hit me. You cheated. You broke the rules! That’s what happens.”
He shook his head. The freedom to do so made him test his limits once again. He curled his fingers. Clenched them. Curled up his toes. “No. Why did you force Tony to take you in, only to bring me here and kill him?”
She shrugged. “I wanted a rich daddy. But it was boring in his head. It’s boring in everyone’s head. It’s more fun to watch you all get mad and sad and hurt.”
He looked again at Tony. Something clawed up within him. “Why make him think I hated him?”
She laughed. “Because it would hurt him, and that would hurt you. I told you. It’s punishment. What’s the point if it doesn’t hurt?” She frowned. “You were supposed to come and make him stop caring. I just wanted to watch. Why did you have to be boring, too?”
She kicked Tony’s armor, then scowled and walked toward Steve. Despite being clearly older, she had the mentality of a child – a cruel one. She’d taken Tony’s autonomy just so she could have someone with money as her father. And when she’d gotten tired of him, she’d thrown him away. Like he was nothing.
“Where are your real parents?” he asked.
She put her hands on her hips. “Shut up! My parents are who I choose! Not that stupid old woman and not that good-for-nothing dad!”
Steve watched as the little girl walked up to him. She touched his armor, still loose around his waist. “Mr. Tony gave me lots of stuff. That old woman never did. She locked me in my room and told me I was a bad girl. She said I shouldn’t exist.” Casey looked up at him. Now that she was so close, he could see that her eyes were a bright, bright purple. “I liked getting things, but who wants to hear that stuff about love and family all the time? It was gross.”
“So you decided to, what? Force me to kill him?”
“I wouldn’t have had to if you’d been the mean person Mr. Tony remembered you to be,” she said. She pouted. “You were supposed to like hurting people who loved you. You were supposed to be like me.” She skipped away. “But you’re just as dumb as everybody else. Maybe your friend’ll be better? But I don’t wanna live running. I liked the warm bed and nice food, so he won’t do.” She twirled where she stood, her platinum hair slapping her cheek. She barely looked at him before looking around the tower. No one dared come near. Iron Man had shot down the news copters hours ago. “Maybe you could take me to someone, anyway. Even your stupid head is better than nothing.”
His eyes widened. She was going to use him to find someone else. Another host. Would he be forced to hurt others the way Tony had been? Would he be thrown aside like a broken toy once she was done with him? He looked at Tony. If he was taken, no one would even know what had happened. Everyone would think Tony had died because he was a villain. They would think he deserved it.
Tony didn’t deserve his legacy to be tainted. And Steve – Steve, for all his sins, didn’t deserve to be this girl’s toy.
His shield still sat against the back of the tower, but his armor was around his waist. He didn’t want to hurt a child – she was clearly troubled, and she came from a bad home. But with her powers and no back-up, he needed to at least get her unconscious, and quickly. A good, solid hit, a chop at her neck or a punch up her gut toward her chest–
A white-blue blast shot out and slammed into Casey. It knocked her to the ground.
Steve whipped his head around. Tony stood, slow and shaky in his armor, his hand still out and pointed at the girl. Steve sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re alive,” he breathed.
Steve tilted his head at the tinny female voice. Friday. What had Tony’s AI thought about Casey? Had they even had a clue that something was going on? He hurried to his shield, the invisible bonds that had held him gone as if they’d never been. He maneuvered his armor back on only after retrieving his weapon, then pulled his cowl on and turned back to Tony. The man had pulled his faceplate back down. “I’ll take care of it from here. You should leave if you don’t want to get arrested – or executed.”
Steve looked at the girl. “What are you going to do with her?”
“We don’t have anything outside of the Raft for someone like her. I don’t like the idea of sending a child there, but I like the idea of letting her loose even less.” Tony walked to her. “I’ll have to make something up for her. Her accommodations won’t be as nice as they have been, but they’re better than the street, and we can get her some help.”
Steve doubted help was on the agenda the moment the world learned about her, no matter what Tony wanted. Still, the girl had controlled Tony, forced him to hold his employees hostage and shoot down reporters and even shoot himself in the head. He looked at Tony’s temple. “Did your armor protect you?”
“No.” He bent next to Casey and checked her over. From what Steve could see, there was a slight bruise on the right side of her forehead, but otherwise, she seemed all right. “You managed to throw your shield at her instead of me. You couldn’t completely break her rules, but you could bend them. Loopholes. She told me to take myself hostage, but she didn’t tell me to intend to kill myself. So I set the repulsor to its lowest setting. She may be able to read memories, possibly even emotions, but she apparently can’t read transient thoughts.”
Thank god, then, that Casey had taken over Tony’s mind when she’d given him his last order. Without knowing he’d switched the repulsor, she’d likely just forced him to shoot. Something hot and wide and expanding nearly burst inside him. He went to Tony’s side. It didn’t escape him, the sight of Tony stiffening the closer he came. He leaned down on his toes and knelt. “Tony.”
From what he could see, Tony wasn’t even aware of his presence. He picked Casey up and planted his feet for ascension. “Tony. She made me lie.”
Tony stopped. Looked at him. “What?”
“She made me lie. The reason why I fought you that day. Of course I care about you.”
Tony snorted. It sounded like a short in an electrical feed. “Okay, then.”
He pulled his cowl right back off. This was something too important for masks. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I’d been trying to keep Bucky alive for days by the time you arrived, and all I could think about was how, after all that, I wasn’t going to lose him. I was hasty and cruel and stupid.”
Tony humphed again. By the set of his shoulders, Steve knew he was about to leave.
“I should have told you,” he said, quickly. Desperately. “About your parents. About what was happening. I should have trusted that you would do what was right. I convinced myself I was doing the right thing, but I wasn’t. I just… I didn’t want to have to be the one to tell you. But I should have. The way you found out…”
“Yeah. Well.” Tony started up his repulsors. “C’est la vie.”
“I chose between two men that I care about, Tony,” he said. He stood. Casey hadn’t woken up yet, but he didn’t know how long that would last. Still. Still, if he let this moment go, he was afraid he wouldn’t get another chance. Tony had never used that cell phone. “And I was scared, but I went too far. I thought your sending the shield to Wakanda was an olive branch, like the phone. So why aren’t you willing to talk to me?”
Tony stared down at him. Steve wondered if he wasn’t glaring. “I was returning the vibranium, Steve.”
He flushed, horrified. Of course, if he’d been in Tony’s position, forgiveness would have been the furthest thing from his mind. It had taken him over an hour to realize that he’d left a comrade alone and injured in an unknown cave with nothing but a stolen avenjet to get him back. How injured had Tony been? How scared and hurt and alone, simply because he’d fallen to pain and anger? Steve knew that feeling; he’d destroyed enough punching bags to know how it felt to feel trapped and pent up and lost. And he’d left Tony, of all people, to suffer that alone. After Tony had gone all that way to help him and Bucky.
Steve hadn’t let Tony hurt Bucky, but in doing so, he’d let Bucky and himself hurt Tony. Could anyone pretend there had been a villain in that battle? Could anyone pretend there had been a hero?
“Tony. I’m not demanding you forgive me. I’m not demanding you reciprocate. I just want you to know. I don’t hate you. I don’t want you hurting. And I don’t ever want you to think–”
“I get it,” Tony said softly. “You love Bucky. I’m happy for you.”
“I love you,” he said. “I love Bucky. He’s my brother. But I love you, too.”
Tony’s fingers clenched. Steve only caught it because he was desperately searching for some sign of reaction.
“I’m not asking for anything,” Steve said, “but that you know the reason I fought you. The real reason. That I was scared. That I chose Bucky, just like I’d been choosing Bucky, because I needed him. I needed… something.” Steve reached out as if to grab something, but clenched his fingers. “I’d just lost the only thing – and as much as I love you, sometimes you remind me of the time I lost, the fact that I’m looking at a new generation, a generation that came after me but is older. And I needed… I panicked. I panicked the moment I heard Bucky was being brought in. It’s not fair, not to you or to the others or – to anyone. But it wasn’t because I hated you. It could never be that.”
“I get it, Cap,” Tony said. He hunched a bit, then repositioned Casey in his arms so he could use one palm repulsor to keep his balance. “I knew that from the start. It’s why I went to help you. But you lied about my parents for yourself. You kept a secret after lecturing me on keeping secrets. You attacked my arc reactor when you know exactly what that means.”
It had been the only way to stop Tony. But he was right – unlike Bucky, who wouldn’t have known, Steve would have. He would have been well aware. “You’re right. I was full of myself. I thought I knew what was best for you, when I should have given you the choice. Attacking you – I should have found a better way. I should have – but I chose to fight you, to take you down, instead of just getting Bucky away from you or – or something. I have no excuse.”
Tony floated above him for a moment. “You’re right,” he said finally. “You don’t. But I wasn’t letting him go, either.”
Steve dared take a tiny step forward. Tony didn’t pull away. “I came here today to stop you, Tony. But I refused to fight you. I wanted to take a step forward. To apologize.”
Tony’s shoulders slumped. Casey’s hair dangled over the metallic glint of his armor. “Maybe we could talk about this in a few hours. Can you meet me in Central Park, near the back right, by the two hollow trees? Give me an hour.”
It could be a trap. Tony could lead Ross’ men right to him. He nodded. “I’ll be there, Tony.”
This was fast! There were less things to change here, and I hope the other chapter does as well. Enjoy!
‘God, will this day ever end?’ Tony wonders. Everett Ross has just called him; and things are even worse than this morning, as impossible as that might seem. Severely hurt officers, dead officers, endangered civilians, dead civilians, an uncontrollable Black Panther, a locked Winter Soldier, a rebellious Captain America and his loyal dog the Flacon… Jesus Christ, what a mess.
All of them are on the way; but Rhodey came back flying the War Machine armor, so of course he is here sooner. For now, they are alone in one of the conference rooms. Tony cannot help but think that his Steve wouldn’t have done this if he heard the voicemails; so maybe he ditched his phone after talking with Natasha?
“FRIDAY” starts Tony suddenly. “Do you know if Steve listened to the messages I left him?” he asks, desperately holding onto that hope.
“He did, Boss. He heard and deleted all three messages.” Pause. “I’m sorry, Boss.” She sounds sad, that’s the thing. How pathetic is he, that even his own creations feel pity for him?
“Tones, you alright?” Asks Rhodey; because he is the best person (Alpha, Beta or Omega) that Tony has ever met. He really doesn’t know what he would do without his Rhodey.
“Always.” He answers, with a bitter smile on his face. “I just thought that the…news would be enough to make him think things through and not do stupid bullshit like this.” A bitter laugh resonates in the see-through room. “I was wrong, obviously. I just hope that his…need to protect Barnes convinces him of signing. I don’t have anything else to offer General Ross if he doesn’t.” ends the brunette, with a grimace.
“Hey” says Rhodey, pulling Tony towards his chest, letting him rest for a minute; like the Alpha always does when his friend needs comfort and they are in a public place. Even if they are ‘alone’ right now, there is always someone watching. “I’m with you, alright? Always; I’ll always have your back, Tones.” He murmurs in the Omega’s ear, feeling Tony shake in his arms, while he gently rubs his back to calm him down.
“I know, Jim, I know. I don’t know what I’d do without you, my Rhodey.” the brunette answers, giving him a wobbly smile. Tony takes a step back and locks his eyes with the Alpha. He kisses the older man in the cheek and hugs him a last time, throwing his arms around the strong neck.
Then, he unlocks his arms and takes several steps back, puts his mask on its place and prepares to greet a grieving and raging King, an Assassin, his Alpha and a loyal dog.
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“Did you know about this!?” Steve growls, as soon as he is through T’Challa’s office door. The King lifts his eyes from the paperwork on his dark wooden desk and pins him with an impassive gaze.
“Knew about what?” Questions the Wakandan.
“About Tony! About his…his state.” the blond chokes out.
“You mean about the coma Dr. Stark has been in since he was rescued after your battle in Siberia?” Asks the Black Panther; a disapproving note on his tone.
“Yes” Hisses the ex-Captain. “Did.you.knew.about.it?” He repeats, taking a few steps forward, glaring with all his might at the King.
“Yes, of course I did.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me!?” The American yells.
“I observed you for a few days after Dr. Stark was found, Captain, and judging from your behavior; you did not wish to learn about your Omega. You changed new channels as soon as his name or his company was mentioned; ignored anything related to him in the media; never questioned me about him or his health and any time someone tried to talk to you about him, Mr. Rogers, you shut them down. So, per your requests, I decided not to bother you with news about his health.” Explains T’Challa, and despite his impassive demeanor, the blond can detect a hint of disgust on his eyes.
Steve falls silent at this, because, who wouldn’t? What decent human being wouldn’t feel revolted by him in this very moment? He attacked his Omega, and abandoned his badly injured Mate in the middle of a wasteland, left him stranded and defenseless, to boot. Broken bones, blood loss, hypothermia, concussions… God, Tony was so close to dying…how did he not notice that? The Bond should have made him feel part of it; sense his mate slipping from life and feel his pain. But he doesn’t feel a thing. All this time he thought Tony was blocking him, building wall upon wall to stop Steve from noticing how much his betrayal injured the Omega (which it’s useless, because every time he closes his eyes for more than a second, he sees those deep brown eyes full of incredulity, sadness, rage, raw hurt).
He needs to go to Tony. He has to help his Omega. He already filled his role as friend, now it’s time for him to redeem himself to Tony by carrying out his duty as an Alpha. He needs to be beside his Omega. Has to find a way to get to the States and into whatever hospital Tony is in.
Judging by the way the King is looking at him, though, T’Challa won’t help him.
But he might just have the man for the job.
Time to talk with certain fan of his.
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“Are you sure about this?” asks Rhodey, watching him with concerned eyes. “You already got beaten today, and Barnes hit you right in your belly…I’m really not comfortable with you going with us to that fight.” The Alpha seems really worried, mouth tight and a frown on his forehead.
“I know; that scared the shit out of me.” The brunette fiddles with his gauntlet for a moment, not meeting Jim’s eyes. Then he takes a deep breath and locks eyes with the other man. “But I really don’t think that this will become a full-on fight, you know? I believe that Steve will listen to us; he has to. And Sam should get what we are trying to do with the Accords, the accountability and all is a strong concept on the military, after all.” He breaths in once more, letting the air out slowly. “And I hope he thinks of his children before starting something that could hurt us.”
There is a minute or two of quiet, in which they both finish putting on their armors, and then they stay there, in an uneasy silence. But Jim sees the glow of unshed tears and the deep pain in Tony’s eyes. He was always able to detect it, even if he wasn’t always able to solve the issue.
“Tony…”
“It’s just-” Starts the Omega, his voice raw. “I thought he would care, you know? About what could happen to me, to our babies.” A sob escapes Tony. Rhodey regrets deeply the fact that he can only embrace the brunette in the suit, not give him physical comfort. “God, why am I such a fuck-up that not even my own Alpha cares for me or his own children, Rhodey? What is it about me that-” By now a few tears have rolled down the brunette’s cheeks, and those deep brown orbs are so sad and broken that Jim wants to rip Rogers apart. “They are not even born yet and I already ruined it for them, I’m-” His whimpers interrupt him.
“Hey, hey, Tones.” The Alpha starts, removing his gauntlet and caressing one wet cheek. “This is not on you. You are magnificent, and Rogers is too blind and too much of an idiot to see it. You are the most caring, giving, sweet Omega (hell, person) I’ve ever met; and these babies will be the most lucky ones in the world, because you are going to be a loving, careful and dedicated mother. And they will love you and cherish you for it, and because you deserve it. And you know the best part, for me?” Rhodey asks, relieved to see the tears have stopped and there is a minute smile on the Omega’s lips. Tony shakes his head. “That I will be there, with you; every step of the way. I’ll witness every change you go through, will be there when they are born, will help you help them walk, and will laugh with you when their first words turn out to be ‘robot’ or ‘dummy’.” They both laugh at this, and the room feels less tense already. “I love you, okay? You know that.” They both know Jim means it in more than one way, but right now it’s not the time. “And I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.” He presses a kiss on the brunette’s forehead. “I promise you everything will be alright.”
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Steve runs back to the communal rooms, hoping that Scott is still there. He is out of breath. He is rarely out of breath, after the Serum.
When he gets there, he sees Bucky, sitting still on one of the couches and staring at the TV, which is showing the crowd of people outside the hospital, the candles and the walls covered in cards, drawings, photos… Sam is standing by the window, looking at the Jungle, so different from home.
“Hey, have any of you seen Scott?” He asks, relieved that he doesn’t have to go and look for them himself. He is going to need Sam and Bucky on this one.
Neither of them answer.
“Hey, Buc-”
“We did that” says Bucky, not moving at all. He is still facing the TV but his words are meant for Steve, there’s no doubt.
“Buck-” tries the blond.
“We… did that”. The brunet repeats. “To him, to your Omega.” It’s like he is still trying to process it. Meanwhile, Sam has turned around to watch them. The pilot has a severe expression on his face, arms crossed in front of his chest. But he doesn’t speak, just looks at Steve like he should do something.
Steve hates seeing Bucky like this, a shadow of the man he once knew. This Bucky is ridden with guilt and anxiety and paranoia. This man is always thinking about the Winter Soldier victims and doesn’t listen to him when Steve tries to tell him it’s not his fault. But this? What happened to Tony wasn’t because HYDRA or Zemo controlled his mind, it wasn’t a mission. Tony went to help them, admitted his mistake and tried to work with them. And then…and then the video happened and everything went to shit. Steve knows Bucky would have let Tony kill him, if it wasn’t because Steve himself got into the fight. It was his fault for keeping the truth to himself all these years, not Bucky’s; but in that moment there was no other thing he could have done. He had to save Bucky from Tony and Steve knew- thought that his Mate would be okay. What happened to Tony is Steve (and Tony’s too, let’s be honest, he didn’t need to attack Bucky because the man wasn’t guilty, that was HYDRA) fault.
Thing is, he doesn’t know how to make this Bucky listen to him, how to make him understand that. But before he can try to, Clint enters the room from the hallway, a phone on his ear and a bag on his other hand. He leaves the bag on the couch and talks to whoever is on the other side of the line.
“Yeah…yeah. Okay, I’ll see you there. Bye.” He hangs up and looks at the hall, and Wanda walks up to him, a backpack on her back and holding a handbag. They talk among themselves for a little while, then the young female Alpha nods and Clint grabs his bag again and starts walking with her on tow.
“We are leaving, Rogers.”
“Wha-Clint?” Steve asks, baffled. He knows he has things to explain to his team, if the way Clint is glaring at him or how Wanda won’t look at him is anything to go by.
“I called Nat; it turns out her decision to stay out of Wakanda has less to do with the King and more to do with her not standing the sight of you. God, I knew there was something you weren’t telling us, but beating Stark half to dead and leave him to die?” The shorter blond takes a few deep breaths and then “I’d have never believed you to be such a coward if I hadn’t seen it myself.” he finishes. It hurts, that his teammate thinks so lowly of him.
Before he can retort and say something to make Clint and Wanda change their minds, Scott comes out of the hallway, also with a bag ready. He can’t look at Steve in the eyes either, but the blond can’t let him leave; Lang is his only real chance of getting to Tony.
“Scott, don’t go.” he starts. An awkward pause. “Please.” He adds at last.
“Why do you want him to stay, Rogers? You never seemed overly interested in him before.” Says Clint, before his eyes widen as he comes up with the answer. “Of course; you need Scott and his ants to help you get to Tony. Bastard.” He hisses.
Said Omega seems to shrink in himself a bit, not looking up from the floor; letting Clint shield him a bit. Steve takes two steps to the left, so he can see the other man’s face, trying to get Scott to look at him.
“Please, Scott.” He says again, hoping that the words will convince Scott to face him. “I need you. I need your help to go to my Omega. I wouldn’t ask if I had another choice, Scott, but I don’t. Please, Scott, help me go to my family.” Begs the blond.
“Family?” spits out Clint. “Now you care about family!?” he yells. “You should have thought about that before all of this! I haven’t talked to my kids or my wife in two months! Lang missed his court hearing because he was on an underwater prison! Natasha hasn’t spoken a word to us since she helped us get away, except for today’s phone call! She thought all of us knew about Tony and didn’t care! I explained to her that we didn’t knew shit, that our virtuous Captain never told us and that he made sure we ignored everything about Tony Stark on any kind of media; that saying his name or asking about him was pretty much forbidden. And of course, with how mad we were at him and how much time we spent outside after being cooped up in a cell for weeks; it was pretty easy for you to control what we should know and what we should ignore.” The archer is breathing hard, eyes shining with fury. Steve is taken aback by how much hate leaked into the beta’s words.
“That’s what you think of me? That I hid this from all of you?” None of them meets his eyes, not even Sam or, God, Bucky. “Well!?” he growls.
“What do you want us to believe, Steve?” Asks Sam; finally meeting his eyes. “Even if you didn’t watch the news or ignored everything about your Omega for two months, the bond must have told you things were bad, if not how bad.” He sighs and turns his head, and it feels like rejection. “That you choose to ignore that speaks more than anything.”
Steve takes a deep, deep breath to calm himself. He can’t lose his temper now, not if he wants his teammates to understand and support him. Or, at least, convince Scott to stay. He needs Scott, that’s nonnegotiable.
“I swear to you, I didn’t know about his state. After Siberia…I thought that Tony was blocking me, because every time I tried to reach out there was just this…blankness I couldn’t get pass. I thought he was mad at me” he takes note of the fire in Clint’s eyes and adds “reasonably mad at me, and that he was preventing me from reaching him because of how hurt he was. I’d never imagined that the reason I couldn’t feel him was because he was unconscious all the time.”
He holds his breath for an answer; but after one or two minutes of silence, Clint shakes his head and starts walking again. Wanda follows him without a word and without looking at Steve, just nodding in Sam’s direction.
Scott…Scott just stays where he is; vibrating with energy and nerves, but not moving. The archer looks back at him with disbelief, but then sighs.
“When you grow tired of being used by him, call me and we’ll get to you.” Says Clint, and then he and Wanda are gone.
“Scott” breaths out Steve, relieved. “Thank y-”he tries to say, but gets interrupted.
“Don’t, Cap, just…don’t.” Says the Omega, with a hand up. “I’ll help you because I got a second chance and it’s not my place to deny anyone theirs; not because I condone what you did.” With that, he turns around to get his bag. “I’ll go change. Be ready in fifteen.”
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Later, riding in the back of a flying ant (another thing he never thought he would say) with Bucky and Sam on each side, but not talking or looking at him, he thinks that the thing that torments him most is the loss of his Omega’s trust; and his team’s trust. Steve really wishes he could have done something different, but there was no other choice, no time, no way out. They were played magnificently by Zemo, like chess pieces. His hands and feet were tied, and he could only fill the role that Tony and Ross and Zemo had pushed him into. If his Omega, Rhodes, Vision and Natasha had not agreed to sign the Accords, things would have gone so differently.
He had hoped that Tony would come around on his own, given time, but if his Mate is in a coma…Tony needs him right now. And his team…they pretty much loathe him; though Steve knows they will forgive him, when they see Tony awake and fine; and both of them together again. It’ll take work, and Steve has a lot of making up to do, but he has done nothing irreversible, so.
Things will work out. They always do.
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Pain.
Pain.
Pain.
Voices.
“He’s over here!!”
Whispers.
“My God…his own Alpha did this to him?”
Cold touches.
Pain.
“You are safe now, Mr. Stark. We will help you, sir, don’t worry.”
“Mr. Stark, are you with us?”
Movement.
Pain.
“He is in very bad shape, ribs fractured for sure, concussion, God knows what else.”
“Mr. Stark, I know you want to go to sleep, just a few more moments. Is anyplace in particular hurting more than others?”
Pain.
Pain.
Pain.
“My…m-my babies…s-save my b-babies…” Tony manages to get out. Only that matters.
Yelling.
“Fuck, he’s pregnant!!”
“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark, stay with us!”
“We are losing him! We have to move him!”
“I need that stretcher yesterday!”
“One, two, three!”
Pain.
“H-help…them…” Whispers out the Omega, blood choking him.
inspired by an unanswered @imaginetonyandbucky prompt: Imagine Bucky seeing the footage from the time Tony disarmed him during CW and it kinda turned him on. (Or alternatively, watching Tony handling weapons give Bucky the hots)
this is nothing like that. basically, Bucky is me in this fic
“Wait.” Bucky speaks suddenly, before he even realizes he means to. He blinks, but figures he might as well continue. “Go back a bit,” he requests, and FRIDAY rewinds the tape he’s watching. “Little more. There, play from there.”
On screen, security footage from the GSG9 headquarters shows Tony Stark confronting the Winter Soldier with only a palm repulsor that was hidden inside his watch.
“Play it again.”
“Buck?” Steve asks, looking at him in concern, but he only holds up his hand, watching the encounter play out intently. When he speaks, it’s to address the AI again.
“Can you slow it down a bunch?”
Obligingly, the footage rewinds and then inches by a few frames at a time.
“Oh my god,” Bucky whispers. “Oh my god, did I hit his sunglasses?”
“Bucky?” Steve asks again. “What’s wrong?”
He stands abruptly, throwing Steve no more than a cursory glance. “Sorry. I need to take a break. I’ll be back in a while.”
“Okay…” Steve sounds worried, but lets him go.
Bucky is not at all ashamed of taking advantage of Steve’s enormous soft spot when it comes to him. Honestly, he’d been okay with it in the days after he’d been unfrozen again, when he’d been overwhelmed by trying to erase his conditioning and untangle his memories with the help of Tony’s BARF technology and he’d barely been able to cope with taking care of himself. Then, it had been a relief to know that Steve would undoubtedly fight in Bucky’s corner to defend him from any and all politicians or press that wanted to accuse him. Now that he’s doing better, though, Steve’s self-appointed role as guardian of Bucky’s boundaries, even from Bucky himself, is starting to grate. He’d had to insist half a dozen times that it would be fine to get Steve to agree to let him review the material that is going in his own damn dossier.
Honestly, if Steve is going to fret over Bucky wanting to influence the arguments that will hopefully convince the world governments that the actions of the Winter Soldier really aren’t his fault, and then fret over Bucky wanting to take a break from reviewing footage that is, admittedly, frequently stomach-churning, he deserves to be taken advantage of.
Bucky stomps down from the viewing room into the workshop.
“Stark. Give me a pistol.”
Tony startles, snapping out of his work zone. “What? You’re not supposed to have them still.”
It’s one of the conditions that allowed them to bring Bucky stateside. Technically, he isn’t supposed to have any weapons at all, but Natasha had secretly slipped him a couple of knives because she understands.
He rolls his eyes. “Something gun-shaped, then. Doesn’t have to be functional.”
Tony considers, then rolls his chair across the floor to a storage bin and digs out an old handgrip prototype. The thing can be loaded with a clip and has both trigger and finger guard, but there’s no firing mechanism and only the most rudimentary of barrels. He hands it over.
Bucky double checks that the gun is disabled and unloaded, and then he levels it at Tony’s chest. “Right. Now take it away from me.”
Tony’s heart kicks up to triple-time as a shock of adrenaline hits his system. He’s been working on moving past his anger towards Barnes. He knows now that the man was a victim, that his parents’ deaths are on HYDRA’s hands. That’s why he fought so hard to get him the BARF, and why he offered to build a new arm. But right now, with a gun and a deadly glare pointed at him, it’s hard not to see the terrifying enemy Barnes was all those months ago. He barely notices the watch repulsor unfold in an automatic response to his distress.
“What?” Tony croaks.
“Take the gun away from me,” Bucky says patiently.
Tony stands, and reaches up to grasp the barrel.
“No.”
He flinches as if the forceful tone of Barnes’ voice had been a gunshot.
“If this had been combat, I would have shot you already.” In the middle of a battle, with fear and adrenaline and chaos working against him, Bucky could understand Tony’s response; but if this is how he approaches disarming someone when he has all the time in the world to react? Bucky’s got no clue what Howard was doing, raising Tony to take over a weapons manufacturing empire without teaching him basic gun safety. “First rule of disarming someone: don’t get shot. Step to the side.”
Tony’s brow furrows as if he wants to argue. Internally, Bucky rolls his eyes. It would be just like Tony to protest because he’s worried about collateral damage to whoever might be standing behind him. Fortunately, he doesn’t say anything, and even better, he knows to step to the outside of Bucky’s extended arm.
Bucky nods. “Now turn and grab the back of the gun with your left hand. Jam your fingers in front of where the hammer would be. It might hurt, but not as much as getting shot.”
Tony follows directions. It’s good advice; blocking the hammer will prevent the gun from firing, even if the trigger’s been pulled. He still has no clue why the hell Barnes has taken it upon himself to apparently teach him this.
“Now grab the front of the barrel. Twist it away from you and around towards my body.”
Tony finds himself abruptly holding on to the prototype. Barnes’ expression shifts into what might be a smile on anyone else, and he holds out his hand. Tony doesn’t give him back the gun, though, instead opting to stare suspiciously.
“No offense, Robocop, but why are we doing this?”
Bucky presses his lips together and looks away. “FRIDAY, is it possible to play the footage I was just watching down here?”
“Certainly, Sgt. Barnes.”
A video window pops up on one of the holoscreens, already looping the segment that Bucky had been rewatching. Tony blinks at it, frowns.
“So…what? You didn’t like my style?”
Bucky stares at him. He cannot believe this man sometimes, but usually that statement is accompanied by less exasperation and more being awestruck. “You put your hand in front of the barrel, Stark.”
Tony holds up his hand, still covered by the repulsor, and wiggles his fingers. “Yeah, but I had one of these on.”
“And what if you hadn’t? What happens if you get caught without it one day?”
“I won’t.” Tony knows he won’t because he always wears the watch now.
Things are tense in the Facility. He might be working towards forgiving Barnes, but outside of their regularly scheduled workshop meetings, he avoids the man. Partly because it’s awkward and he doesn’t really know how Barnes feels about him, but mostly because he’s pretty much glued to Steve’s side. And Steve…Steve, Tony still has nightmares about. Steve and his team he fought to bring to the table on the new Accords and he fought to bring them home, but he has not completely forgiven them. (They’re here because deep down, Tony still knows that something is coming—and they’re going to need all the help they can get.)
“You can’t know that! You get into the habit of grabbing guns like that, the one day you don’t have your protection, you’re gonna get shot, and if you’re lucky that bullet’s not gonna be pointed at your face. Hell, I already hit your sunglasses.”
Tony is not at all sure how to respond to that, so he says, “You didn’t, actually. Hit my glasses. It looks like that in the footage, but the bullet didn’t make it past the barrel.”
Bucky cannot even be relieved that he didn’t hit Tony. “That’s not the point. What if it had damaged your repulsor?”
“I was 98.9 percent certain that wouldn’t happen,” Tony hedges.
“And if it had? What happens when your repulsors fail?”
He resists the urge to say they never fail, because he might be a genius engineer but part of that is knowing that things always fail. “It…wouldn’t have exploded. Probably.”
Bucky grits his teeth. Honestly, it’s like Tony has never had someone care about his safety before. “Probably.”
Tony nods. He’s still a little confused by this whole thing. “Most likely.”
Bucky holds out his hand for the gun prototype. “Do it again.”
Tony hands the gun back and lets Barnes make him repeat the motions over and over, retracting the watch repulsor while he’s at it. Somehow, he doesn’t feel like he came out on top of that conversation. He feels off-balance, like he still needs to defend himself. Before he can really think about it, he finds himself saying, “Even if I did damage my repulsor—which, there’s only a one-point-one percent chance of that happening—there’s enough mass in there that a bullet wouldn’t exit my hand with enough force to kill me afterwards.”
Bucky shakes his head, bringing his left hand up to brace the butt of the gun. The motions are exactly the same, but Tony needs to learn not to let the different grip throw him off. “Not acceptable.”
Tony fakes a bright grin. “Worried about me?”
“Yes.”
That gives him more of a pause than Barnes adding in his other hand had, but fortunately at this point the motions of repeatedly disarming him have become almost automatic. “I know,” he says faux-sympathetically, “if I get my hand shot, there’s no one to fix up your arm anymore.”
Bucky is silent for a while after that as they work, wondering what the hell he’s going to do with this man in front of him. He makes Tony disarm him on the opposite side, switching his grip every couple of repetitions. He knows Tony avoids him, but Bucky doesn’t avoid him in return, not anymore. He sees the new lines in Tony’s face every time they have another session. He sees how he works his fingers to the bone on Bucky’s arm, on Rhodes’ leg braces, on Spider-man’s suit, on keeping them all safe and free. He sees that Tony is very much not okay but he keeps going anyway, and Bucky tells himself that it is possible. That he can do it too. He doesn’t understand how no one else seems to notice that what Tony does is extraordinary. He doesn’t understand how anyone can take him for granted.
Finally he says quietly, “You love building things.”
Tony drops his hands from where they were raised to take the gun again, staring.
Bucky lowers his arm. “I don’t want you to get shot because then you wouldn’t be able to do what you love.”
Tony has never, in his life, been told to make things for the joy of making them. Make yourself useful, yes. Make profit. Make things so the Avengers will stick around because he’s not a hero and he’s not a team player but he sure as hell can make fancy toys to take out the bad guys. Make things because people want them from you, and if you keep doing it for long enough, they start to expect them from you. Except the truth is, Tony does love it. He loves pushing the limits of possibility. He loves creation, he loves knowledge. He’s resigned himself to giving what he makes to those who will never truly appreciate them. And now there is this man who wants nothing from him except for Tony’s own safety and possibly his continued happiness.
Bucky sets the gun prototype down on a table. “Practice what I showed you. Until you can do it automatically no matter what. Natasha will help.” He turns to leave, then pauses. Sucking up his courage, he says, “I care about you.”
Tony stands there alone in the middle of his workshop long after Bucky has gone, utterly disarmed.
