SquidgeWorld Archive

And the World Keeps Spinning
by Perpetual Motion

Steve tries his key again and huffs out a breath when it still won't work. He wants to call Tony, see if he can come over with his spare, but he doesn't have his cell.  He's not sure where he's left it.

The door swings open suddenly, and Steve falls into a defensive stance at the same time as he hears the snap of a gun safety releasing.  "What the—Bucky, what are you doing?"

"Who are you?"

Steve blinks.  Bucky's arm isn't moving.  The gun is aimed between his eyes.  "What kind of—"

"Who," Bucky steps forward, and the gun touches Steve's forehead, "are you?"

"Steve Rogers.  We fought together in World War II."  Steve fights not to flinch when the gun is pressed into his forehead.

"Try again."

"Buck, I…I'm Steve, Bucky.  It's Steve."  Steve stands up straight, straightens his shoulders, and looks Bucky in the eyes.  "It's me, Buck.  I don't know what's going on, but I'm Steve Rogers."

"How'd you get here?"

"I…" Steve blinks when he can't find an answer.  "I must have…"  He stares at Bucky as his complete absence of memory hits him hard.  "I don't know. I…I have no idea.  I was…" he can't recall that either.

He considers everything he knows.  His keys don't work.  Bucky's in his apartment.  There's a gun to his head.  He doesn't have his phone or his Avengers tag.  "I died."

Bucky's eyebrows go up.  He adjusts his stance so the gun's not-quite digging into Steve's head.  "Are you sure?"

"No," Steve says truthfully.

The gun drops; Bucky steps aside and waves him in.  "I'm going to call reinforcements."

"Okay."  Steve shuts the door and throws the lock as Bucky walks across the room.  It is and isn't his apartment.  The couch and exercise equipment are his, but there's a disassembled gun on the coffee table and the wrong kind of beer in the fridge.  Steve takes a beer anyway and takes a long  drink while he eavesdrops on Bucky's conversation.

"Look, I'm telling you—I am not hallucinating…Yes, he's here…I'm looking at him right now."

Steve raises his beer in a toast and smirks when Bucky rolls his eyes.  It's another five minutes before Bucky's off the phone, and Steve's waiting with a beer.

"Stark says I shouldn't trust it's you."

"He's right."

Bucky shrugs and takes a drink of his beer.  "If I were wrong, you'd have attacked by now."

"Maybe I'm waiting for a crowd."  Steve grins when Bucky snorts.  "I could take on Tony."

"I'm not arguing. I'm just think—" Bucky cuts off at the reverberating pounding on the door.  "Hold that thought."

Steve's eyebrows shoot up when a dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents rush into the apartment.  His eyebrows get a little bit higher when Tony follows in their wake, fully suited.  "What, do you have S.H.I.E.L.D. on speed dial?"

There's a click and a whirr, and then Tony's looking at Steve as his helmet retracts.  "I run S.H.I.E.L.D., Steve."

"Since when?"  Steve gets a crawling, worried sensation up his spine when everyone stares at him.  "What?"  He puts down his beer and takes a step back.

"Steve," Tony says it softly, like Steve's going to spook.  "What year is it?"

"2006."  Tony doesn't do anything, but Steve catches Bucky's sudden shift. Wrong answer, then.

"Who's leading The Avengers?"

"Why don't tell you me what I don't know?"  Steve snaps.

"Who's leading The Avengers?" Tony repeats, voice still soft.

"If you're asking, then my answer's going to be wrong.  Why don't you just—"

"It matters, Steve," Tony interrupts, his face so serious it makes Steve want to back away farther.  "So tell me.  Who's leading The Avengers?"

"We are.  You and me."  Steve sighs in exasperation. "It's you, me, Spider-Man, Spider-Woman, Luke Cage, Wolverine, Sentry when he's healthy, and occasionally Carol when she's bored."  Steve's not sure he's won or lost when Tony's face crumbles just a little.

"Stand down," Tony says to the agents.

"Sir—"

"Stand down." There's a growl in Tony's words that Steve doesn't recognize. It worries him.

"How long?"  Steve asks.

"Not as long as before," Bucky answers as Tony starts berating the agents still trying to argue.  "But about as much has happened."

"Hell," Steve mutters.  He picks up his beer, takes a drink, sets it down, and starts rolling up his sleeves.

"Going to start something?"  Bucky asks, only half-joking.

"They're going to want to draw blood sometime.  I'm just preparing."

Bucky barks a laugh, and Tony and the agents all turn to stare at him. "Something funny, Barnes?"  Tony asks sharply.

"Everything," Bucky says dryly.  He looks at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and waves a hand.  "Get out.  This is my place, and I say get out.  If you think Stark and I can't take one guy in a fight, bitch about it later."

No one moves.  Tony sighs.  "Fine.  If you won't listen to a direct order and a polite request, let me turn it into a threat.  If you haven't cleared the property in two minutes, every single one of you is fired, blacklisted, and shot in the foot.  Get.  Out."  The agents flee.  Tony shakes his head. "Christ."

"And you say you're running the place?"

"Shut up, Steve."  Tony says amiably.  He looks at Bucky.  "Call the Tower. Tell whoever's there to track down Strange."

Steve watches Bucky walk across the room to retrieve the phone and looks back at Tony just in time to get blinded by a bright flash.  "Hey!"  He protests, blinking the spots out of his eyes.  "What was that?"

"Skrull-Checker."

"Why not just get Logan here to sniff me?"

Tony presses his lips together for a few seconds.  "You've been gone awhile Steve."

"I'm figuring that out."

*

"It's him," Dr. Strange tells Tony quietly.  "At the core of himself, he is himself."

"How?"

"There's a trace," Dr. Strange says slowly, "of a power I know well.  As do you."

Tony breathes in deep and counts to ten.  "Who?"

"Wanda."

Tony looks over his shoulder.  Steve's on the couch, Bucky beside him, talking about something that makes them both smile.  "Why?"

"You'd have to ask Wanda."  Dr. Strange shakes his head.  "Although, she may not know she's done it."

"Great."  Tony works his neck back and forth until it pops.  "I miss the old days.  Ice blocks were easier."

"He has no memory block," Dr. Strange says.  "He just has no memory."

"Well, that's something."  Tony gives Dr. Strange a strained smile.  "Thanks for the help."

"I'm always near," and then he's gone in a small billow of smoke.

Tony turns to face Steve and Bucky.  "Strange says you're you."

"Good to hear," Steve stands and stretches.  "So, what's next?"

"Debriefing," Tony answers.  "I'd like to do it elsewhere.  I could use a change of clothes."

"I'm good wherever."  Steve looks at Bucky.  "Any opinions?"

"I'm staying here," Bucky answers.  "I'm not going to be much help, and I'm due to patrol in a couple of hours."

"Patrol?"

"He's taken on the mantle, Steve," Tony explains because Bucky looks completely ill at ease.  "He's done a good job."

Steve beams at Bucky.  "Of course he has.  Thank you, Buck."

"Yeah," Bucky says quietly.  "Sure."

"I've got a car waiting downstairs for you, Steve," Tony says after a moment of heavy silence.  "I'll meet you at the Tower."

"I'll be down in a minute, Tony," Steve replies, watching the way Bucky's very clearly not twitching.  He waits for Tony to leave.  "Bucky?"

"It's weird," Bucky states.  "It seems like…" He shakes his head.  "I guess I'm waiting for an explosion or the end of the world."

Steve laughs softly.  "Or Loki, maybe."

"Exactly."  Bucky looks around the room.  "If you want to move back in, just let me know."

"Let's not worry about that now," Steve insists with a wave of his hand. "It looks like you've kept it up well."

"I'm trying," Bucky glances at the coffee table.  "I'm carrying guns."

Steve glances at the coffee table as well.  "I'm sure it's the right thing to do."

"Are you?"  Bucky watches Steve think about it.

"I don't even know what year it is, Buck," Steve scrubs a hand over his hair.  "For all I know, you should be carrying a cannon."

"Thanks," Bucky says quietly.

*

Tony lands in the garage of the Tower, dismantles his suit, and runs his hands over his face.  "Shit."

"Tony?"  Pepper walks around the corner and cocks her head.  "Everything okay?"

"Any messages?"  Tony asks briskly.

"Three reporters I sent on their way and strange looks from everyone when I cleared the Tower on your orders."  Pepper holds out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.  "I'm assuming you're not wearing underwear."

"I've always liked your hunches, Pep."

She rolls her eyes and turns around, listening as Tony slides into his clothes.  "Are you going to tell me why I had to push everyone out the door, or are you going to make me guess?"  Pepper turns back to face Tony when she hears him sigh.  "I can't tell if that's a good sigh or not."

"I'm not sure either."  Tony smoothes his shirt over his chest and slides his hands into his pockets.  "This is one of those times, Pepper—"

"Where I don't hear a thing until you make the announcement," Pepper finishes with a knowing grin.

Tony nods and shares in her smile.  "Yeah."  He bites his lip.  "Steve's back."

Pepper blinks, and her knuckles go white on her clipboard.  "What?"

"Strange confirmed it was him, and the Skrull-Checker didn't turn him green."

"H-how?"

Tony shakes his head.  "Wanda, probably, but I don't want to put money there, yet."

"Why not?"

"Implications," Tony says quietly.  He gives Pepper an assessing stare. "What do you know?"

"Not a damned thing."

"Good.  Steve will be here soon.  I'm going up to the lobby to meet him."

"I'll stay down here and pretend not to worry."

"You're the best, Pep."  Tony waves as he steps onto the elevator.  He presses the button for the lobby and leans against the back wall, slumping until most of his weight is on the handrail.  "Of all the damned…" he trails off and looks at himself in the reflection of the elevator doors.  "You look like shit, Tony."

The elevator dings, and Tony pulls himself up.  The lobby's quiet, just the security at the desk, and Tony sends him away with a wave of his hand.  He looks out the front doors and wonders what Steve's seeing as he gets driven across the city.  It's not the same city it was in 2006; it's not even
close, and Tony considers the possibility that Steve may have to be talked down from the proverbial ledge.

Tony spots the town car coming down the street and walks out the front door, standing on the bottom step to watch Steve get out of the car.  "Hey," he says when Steve straightens up.

"Hi," Steve says distractedly, looking up and down the street.  "I missed a lot."  He steps up next to Tony and looks around again.  "What year is it?"

"2010."

"How'd all this happen in four years?"

Tony looks up and down the street.  It's been improved greatly in the last eight months as construction has really taken hold.  There are two buildings already in the finishing stages, and the report he knows Pepper has for him will tell him another four are to their halfway points.  "Let's get
upstairs.  I don't want to have this conversation in front of anyone who could wander by."

"The paranoia's new," Steve comments as they step on the elevator.

"There's a new reason for it."  Tony looks Steve over, head to toe, and smiles when Steve meets his eyes.  "There was a pool going for awhile."

"Who won?"

"I'll have to check with Peter.  He was keeping track of the odds.  I think they were 20-1 last week."

Steve chuckles.  "Well, whoever placed the winning bet owes me a beer."

"At least."

The elevator opens to the foyer of the penthouse, and Tony leads the way to the kitchen.  He pours himself a cup of coffee and holds up the carafe. "It's dark roast."

"Perfect."  Steve sits on a stool at the counter and looks around.  "I figured you'd clear out everyone, but I didn't think you'd send Jarvis out the door."

"Jarvis is…" Tony stares into his coffee.  He blinks hard.  "Jarvis is dead."

"Tony, I—"

"Jessica Drew is dead," Tony continues, eyes still on his coffee.  "Hank Pym is dead.  Black—"

"Tony," Steve interrupts, standing up from his stool.  "What the hell happened while I was gone?"

"You were dead, Steve.  Well and truly."  Tony turns and hands Steve his coffee.  "Sharon was under mind control by Doctor Faustus and shot you in the head when you were leaving the courthouse."  Tony watches Steve take in the information.  He knows the next question.

"Why was I at a courthouse?"

"You surrendered yourself to the authorities to stop a war."

Steve blinks.  "Did I start the war?"

Tony breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth.  "That's where things get murky."  He walks down the steps to the living room and sits on the couch.  "What's your last memory?"

"You mean before today."

"Yes."  Tony's eyebrows go up when Steve suddenly turns a bit pink.  "Oh?"

"It's you and me.  In bed."

Tony nearly spits out his coffee.  He manages, just barely, to keep a straight face.  "Anything fun going on?"

"Sure," there's a look in Steve's eyes that Tony remembers far too well. "Always was, wasn't there?"

Tony wants to say yes and back Steve up against the kitchen counter.  Tony wants to go to sleep and wake up and find out that everything's been a dream in the last four years.  "Do you remember the Superhuman Registration Act?" He asks instead of giving in.  No use getting Steve into bed if he won't want to be there more than once.

"I don't recall it."  Steve sits next to Tony and cradles his coffee cup. "What bureaucrat backed that idiocy?"

This is going to hurt, Tony thinks.  "A lot of them.  I was on the opposition to begin with, but circumstances changed."

"Who died?"

"600 civilians in Stamford, Connecticut.  Nitro exploded when fighting the New Warriors."

"Okay."  Steve takes a drink of his coffee. He sets his mug on the coffee table. He laces his fingers together.  "Walk me through it."  His tone is even, but Tony knows how to read it.  Steve wants a full explanation, no stone unturned, and he's willing to put in the time to get it.

"I'm going to order in some food.  The whole thing goes sideways pretty quickly."

"You're stalling."

"That too."

"Pizza okay?"

"Sure."

Tony walks across the room to place the call.  He orders a large sausage with extra cheese.  When he hangs up the phone, Steve's behind him, just close enough to make his skin prickle.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

Such an innocuous question, Tony thinks.  "No," He says quickly and turns around.  "I work too much."

"Why are you director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"No one else wanted the job."  Tony licks his lips and slides his hands into his pockets.

"That's not true."  There's a smirk trying to stay hidden at the corner of Steve's mouth.  "You don't think anyone else will do it right."

"Maybe," Tony admits quietly.  Steve steps closer, and Tony can smell him. The leather of his jacket, a waft of his two-dollar shampoo; Tony closes his eyes against the memories.

"Tony," Steve's voice is soft and concerned.

"This isn't—"  Tony can't say anything else when Steve's hand slides across his face, fingers brushing his ear.

"How long have you been blaming yourself?"

My whole life, Tony thinks.  "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Tony opens his eyes.  Steve's right in front of him, worry deep in his eyes.  "You didn't believe in registration.  I thought you were being naïve and pig-headed.  You thought I was being a controlling dick.  You went underground and the only time I saw you for months was during a fight."

"I can't believe we couldn't come to terms."

"I told you it all went sideways."

Steve shakes his head.  "It's not your fault I wouldn't listen."

"Maybe it is.  Maybe I didn't want—"

"Stop that," Steve says firmly.  "My inability to compromise wasn't your fault."

Tony tries to breathe deep, and his breath stutters in his chest.  "You gave yourself up to stop the fighting.  You let yourself be arrested because you couldn't stand the cost of human life.  You were brave."

"Standing by your beliefs doesn't make you weak, Tony."

Tony hears him, but it means nothing.  There's too much to say, too much to admit.  "We met once, in the middle of all of it.  You told me I didn't want to listen to you because I wanted to be right.  I said you were using your status as Captain America to get people to side with you."

"Shush," Steve says and steps in closer.  He pulls Tony in and hugs him tightly.  "You've had four years to find fault in this.  I don't even remember any of it.  It can't—"

"You have to know, Steve.  I can't pretend like it never happened, and that means I have to tell you all of it."  Tony steps away and crosses his arms over his chest.  He breathes deep.  "I had Reed clone Thor to take out Goliath, and now Bill's dead."

"Tony—"

"I built a prison in the Negative Zone.  I locked up anyone I could capture who hadn't registered.  I shot Bruce Banner into space because I thought the Hulk was too much of a threat."

"Tony, I—"

"I turned myself into a complete hypocrite and provided Bucky with the necessary funds and information to make him into Captain America."

"That's not—"

"I gave you to Namor, Steve."  Tony presses his palms against his eyes.  "I put an LMD in your casket for Arlington and had you buried at sea with Namor's help.  I caused—"

"Tony, shut up."  Steve grabs Tony by the shoulders and gives him a shake. "Tell me what happened in as much detail as you want, but don't make yourself the villain.  Whatever I thought of you during this registration mess doesn't matter. I don't remember it.  Give me the facts, and I'll draw my own conclusions."

"You wouldn't even talk to me at the end of it, and afterwards, so much went wrong, and I think I've been tired ever since."

Steve slides his hands over Tony's shoulders and cradles his face.  "Tell me everything."

So Tony tells him everything.  Steve says nothing outside of the occasional bit of encouragement.  Tony walks him through the war a piece at a time; detailing Stamford, moving to their blow-out, and trying not to make himself look good in any of it.  Steve keeps a hand on his arm and worry lines creep around the edges of his mouth when he pulls his lips tight.

"I'm not going to absolve you, Tony," Steve says, hours later and the remains of the pizza cold.  "But if you're waiting for me to blame you some more, you're not going to get it."

"If I'd listened to you—"

"Registration passed, right?"  Steve interrupts.

"Yes."

"Has anyone been compromised?"

Tony heaves in a breath. "Not in the way you're thinking."  He looks Steve in the eyes and tries for a sarcastic smile.  "Lot's changed since you died."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "What else could have possibly happened?"

"There was a full-on invasion by the Skrulls.  They'd planned it for years. Jarvis and the others are dead because the Skrulls came in, took them, and replaced them.  The rebuilding outside is from their main attack. If I hadn't been so—"

"You can't berate yourself every second of the day, Tony."  Steve reaches out and reels Tony in with a hand on his neck.  He leans in the deep cushions of the couch and tightens his grip so Tony can't get away.  "And you can't predict the future."

Tony presses his head into Steve's shoulder.  "We tried, Reed and I."

"Of course you tried," Steve laughs a little. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't try.  But that doesn't change the fact that, no matter how badly you want it, you can't save the whole world in one fell swoop."

"We were going to have teams in every state."

"And the invasion happened?"

"Yeah."  Tony tries to sit up straight, but Steve holds him close.  "I'm fine."

"Sure."  Steve's grip doesn't lessen.

"The Skrulls found a way to adjust their bodies to make it impossible for us to tell them from the people they replaced.  Logan couldn't smell them, and they'd only regress to their natural state if they were killed."

"You invented the Skrull-Checker?"

"Found it in the Savage Land after a crash landing."  Tony pulls away when Steve practically doubles over with laughter.  "What?"

"Sorry," Steve says and tries to school his features. "Just, god, all this about how much things have changed, and it's still not possible to land properly in the Savage Land."

Tony can't help but smile. "The more things change, I suppose."  He sits upright and leans into the couch, throwing his arm over the back so that it rests just next to Steve's shoulders.  "It was a mess. A complete clusterfuck.  We've still not recovered."

Steve sobers up instantly.  "And the civilians?"

"The heroes got a hero's celebration.  S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fat is still in the fryer."

"You weren't kidding about no one wanting your job."

"No, I wasn't."

Steve leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.  He watches Tony for a few seconds.  "Have you slept well at all lately?"

"No," Tony answers blandly. "How can I?"

"God." Steve rests his head in his hands.  "How you can walk upright when you feel guilty for every misstep you've made, I don't even know."

"And I'm not even Catholic."

"Don't joke."

Tony doesn't get a chance to snap back.  Steve's suddenly crowding him against the couch, knees on either side of Tony's thighs.  Steve kisses him, single-mindedly like he does everything, and Tony grips hard on his arms, pulls him in until they're chest-to-chest, and falls into it headfirst.

Skrull-Checkers and Strange be damned, Tony thinks.  This is Steve.  No one's ever kissed him like Steve.

"A-hem."

Tony wonders how Steve managed to clear his throat when Tony's busy trying to get his tongue down it.

"A-HEM."

That makes Tony pull away.  He'd know that impolite attention-getter anywhere. "Yes, Pepper?"  He doesn't look away from Steve.  Steve's eyes are bright, his lips swollen, and his cheeks are flushed.

"Not meaning to interrupt—Steve, glad you're not dead—but I did want to check a few things with you before I called it a night."

"Sure," Tony says as Steve thanks Pepper for her concern.  "Let everyone into the building  tomorrow.  Half a day off is enough stock damage for me."

"And what time should the team be here tomorrow?"

"Two," Steve says before Tony can start to negotiate a time.  "It'll make sure everyone's well-rested enough to handle the news."  There's a shine in his eyes that makes Tony hot under his clothes.

"You heard the man, Pep."

"I see him, too," she gets in as she leaves.  "You owe me coffee for this, Steve."

"Sure," Steve mutters so only Tony can hear him.  "I'll get on that."

"Uh-huh."  The door clicks audibly as Pepper waves goodbye.

Tony arches when Steve's hand slides under his T-shirt.  He sighs when Steve presses him into the cushions.  "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

"You have no concept—"

Steve kisses Tony hard, teeth digging into Tony's bottom lip.  He groans when Tony gives as good as he's getting and pulls away to look Tony in the eyes.  "If I say I missed you, I missed you."

Tony laughs.  "The last memory you have is the two of us in bed."

"And I just got four years of history that said I wasn't there."

"Okay," Tony agrees because it makes Steve smile.  "You missed me."

"Damn right."  Steve climbs off of Tony and pulls him to his feet.  "Tell me the bedroom's in the same place."

"The bedroom's in the same place."

*

Steve rolls over and blinks awake, wondering why he's coming to at—he squints at the clock—2:36 in the morning.  There's a sound like an incredibly electronic doorbell, and Steve realizes an earpiece on Tony's bedside table is blinking.  "Tony," Steve says quietly, poking Tony in the shoulder.

"Hrmm," Tony says and rolls over.

Steve pokes him again.  "Tony, your earpiece is going off."

The earpiece dings again, and Tony's suddenly straight up in bed, groping blindly for the earpiece.  His hand brushes Steve's chest, but he doesn't seem to notice as he gets hold of the earpiece.  "What?" He barks into it as he attaches it to his ear.

Steve settles himself back into a prone position and tucks his hands behind his head.  This is a Tony he knows well—the chronic overachiever who will wake from the sleep of the dead to take a phone call.

"When did that happen?"

Steve's brow furrows as Tony's tone changes.  He sits up again and touches Tony's side.  Tony slides a glance at him and seems surprised to find Steve there.

"Hill, I'm calling you back."  Tony yanks off the earpiece and looks at Steve.  "You really are here."

"Be quite the dream if it wasn't."  Steve smiles when Tony smiles at him.

"Yeah.  I guess so."  Tony rolls his eyes when his earpiece dings again. "Sorry.  Hold on."  He puts it back to his ear.  "I said I'd call you—if you can't figure out how to deploy a team without me there to hold your hand, maybe it's time to reconsider your posit—same to you, Hill.  Believe me."

Steve takes the earpiece from Tony and presses the button to shut it off. He tucks it under his pillow and lies down.  "I think that's enough for this time of night."

"She's going to call Pepper."

"I'm betting Pepper can take her in a fight."  Steve reaches out and smiles when Tony settles next to him.   "I can't be certain, but I'd bet good money your heart rate is in the danger zone."

"Isn't it always?"

Steve looks closely at Tony.  There's gray threading his hair, and the lines around his eyes look like they've been worn-in.  He taps his finger against the edge of Tony's eye.  "Better be careful, those look like they want to stick around."

"It'll make me look distinguished," Tony says quietly, brushing away Steve's finger.

"Yeah, but will you feel distinguished?"

"I don't know.  I'll let you know if I ever do."

"Hey," Steve says sharply, and props his head on hand, "none of that."

"Sorry."  Tony flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling.  "I'm more battle-worn than you remember, Steve.  Maybe we shouldn't—"

"And none of that," Steve says fiercely.  He maneuvers so that he's looming in Tony's face.  "I've got four years I won't get back, same as you.  Don't regret the here and now."

"I should have Pepper embroider that on a pillow."

Steve grins.  "Well, if it'll help you remember, I'll do it myself."

"I'd love to see that.  The famed Captain America working on samplers and darning his own socks."

"Actually, I can darn my own socks."

Tony laughs.  "Of course you can."

Steve bites the end of Tony's nose.  "Damn straight.  I'll darn yours too, if you say please."

"I just might."  Tony closes his eyes and murmurs happily when Steve settles in tight against him.  "It shouldn't be this easy," he says mostly to himself, but the way Steve shifts, he knows he's heard him.

"Why not?"

"This isn't how things happen.  You're supposed to punch me for getting you killed."

"Tony?"

"Yes?"

"You're an idiot."  Steve presses his fingers against Tony's sternum. "We've gotten through worse than this."

"You say that now."

"And I'll say it tomorrow."  Steve yawns.  "Or, today, if you want to be technical."

"The team—"

"Go to sleep, Tony."

Tony gives a huge yawn and curls a hand around Steve's bicep.  "Okay. Goodnight, Steve."

"Goodnight, Tony."

*

Tony is a consummate businessman.  He can charm his way anywhere.  He's forever at ease discussing deals, brokering options, and finding the best way to motivate employees.  His manners are impeccable.

But Tony the businessman, Steve thinks, is a thin disguise.  Tony the man is a great deal more complicated, and while he can slide into his business manners to get through personal issues, Steve's not letting it happen.

"I can't guarantee Peter's going to show.  There are days I wait for him to pants me and hang me from the spire by my ankles."  Tony says casually as he flips through the paper at a quarter after one.  "Luke's thawed some, but he's still a 'maybe.'"

"Did Pepper piss off anyone during all the excitement I missed?"  Steve asks as he steals the sports section.

"Of course not; she's Pepper."

"Then everyone will show up."  Steve lowers the sports page and gives Tony a hard look.  "The Cubs won the pennant?"

"2008.  It was a big deal."

"Figures," Steve shakes his head.  "I might actually be dead for good by the time they win it again."

Tony glances up from the business section.  "You're trying to distract me."

"Maybe a little."

"I'm okay."  The way Tony rattles the paper says otherwise.

"Fine, then I'm distracting myself," Steve argues.  "Please tell me there's no weird cult associated with me or something."

Tony snorts.  "Quite the swelled head you've grown there, Steve."  He folds the business section and moves onto the society page. "You are remembered, of course, but it's nothing organized."  He pauses for just a second and looks at Steve through his lashes.  "As far as I know, anyway."

Steve gives in and laughs.  "Read your paper," he orders as he stands up. "Want some water?"

"Sure," Tony says without looking up.

Steve pulls two bottles of water from the fridge and tosses one to Tony. He's crossing back to the couch when the penthouse door slam opens and Luke Cage barrels in, obviously unhappy.

"You think you can just call and order me places, Stark?"  Luke asks as he zeroes in on Tony.  "Just because you get Pep—the hell is that?"

"Luke," Steve greets with a nod.  "How's the baby?"

"Who the fuck are you?"

"He's Steve," Tony interjects.  He's still sitting on the couch, but his posture has changed.  His back's straight, and the way he folds the paper is precise, meant to draw attention without being distracting.  "Dr. Strange and the Skrull-Checker have both confirmed it."

Luke looks like he's been slammed in the gut with a lamppost.  "How?"

"We don't know," Steve answers and holds out his water.  "Drink?"

"Sure."  Luke takes the bottle and sinks into a chair.  He stares at Steve. "How long have you been back?"

"Mid-day yesterday," Steve says.

Luke glares at Tony.  "How long were you gonna sit on this?"

"Until two," Tony answers coolly.  "By Steve's request."

"There'll be plenty of questions, Luke," Steve says with a smile.  "You mind holding onto the rest of yours until everyone else gets here?"

"I don't like this."

"Duly noted," Tony snaps.

"And they'll be plenty of time for that as well," Steve says, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.  "Or have things changed so much someone will take a swing at you?"

"Those feeling have mostly passed," Tony assures him.

Steve's tempted to redefine Tony's definition of "mostly passed" when two o'clock comes and the tension in the room skyrockets.  He knows part of the tension is his simply being there, but he can't ignore some of the looks Tony is getting.

"Prove it," Peter says after Tony's walked everyone through the basics.

"I can assure you, Peter, that Steve is Steve."

Peter gives Dr. Strange a skeptical glance.  "Yeah, and magic is neat, but I'm talking science.  What scientific proof—"

"You threw up on Mary Jane on a Ferris Wheel on Coney Island," Steve says, only feeling slightly guilty.  "How many people have you told that to?"

"Forget science," Peter blushes to the top of his head.  "It's him."

"Smells like him, but that don't mean much now," Logan grinds his teeth around his cigar.  "You say the Skrull-Checker cleared him?"

"Yes," Tony says, the stress starting to show in the set of his shoulders. "He didn't even glint green."

"Are we certain the Skrull-Checker is still functioning properly?"

The dirty look Tony gives Reed makes Steve smile.  "I'm going to ignore that question."

"Look, it's me," Steve cuts in before an argument can break out.  "If you don't believe it, I can't prove it to you."

There's a short pause, and then She-Hulk pushes to the front of the crowd, picks up Steve, and swings him around. "It's you!  Only the you-you would say something like that."

"Thanks, Jen," Steve grits his teeth when she hugs a little too tight.  "If you could put me down soon, that'd be great."

"Never!  You're back!"

Jen's enthusiasm wins over the rest of the crowd, and Steve is almost instantly surrounded for hugs, back pats, and the requisite almost-crying. Tony steps away from the general excitement and looks out the windows and down into the street. People are milling about like it's any other day.  He wonders what will happen when the news of Steve's return goes public.

"Tony, a moment, if you please."

Tony turns from the window and smiles at Beast.  "Of course.  What can I do for you Hank?"

Hank looks over his shoulder at the assembled crowd.  "You have a theory, or possibly an idea of a theory as to why Steve's back."

"I don't," Tony says quietly, not wanting to draw attention.

"You're a scientist, Tony.  There's always a hypothesis, at least."

"I'll grant the idea of a hypothesis."

Hank's eyebrows go up.  "Oh?"

"And I'm not going to explain it until I have more than a hypothesis."

"I have always admired your scientific side, Tony."

Tony chuckles at Hank's smile.  "Thank you, Hank."

Steve breaks away from the crowd and throws an arm around Tony's shoulder. "And you thought someone would punch you in the face."

"There's still time."

Steve shakes his head.  "You are your own worst enemy."

"Put that on a pillow, too."

Hank smiles at the two of them. "Wonderful to have you back, Steve."

"Thank you, Hank."  Steve grins at Tony when Hank walks away.  "What were you talking about over here?"

"You, of course."

"Hmmm."  Steve gives Tony a considering look.  "I believe you, but I don't at the same time."

"This isn't the time."
 
Luke walks over with his hand out, interrupting the conversation.  "Tony, I just wanted—"

"Sure," Tony says quickly, shaking Luke's hand.  "I understand your reservations."

Luke doesn't get a chance to respond before the crowd moves over to re-engulf Steve in celebration.

"I'm ordering pizza!"  She-Hulk yells over the noise.

"Charge it to the Avengers account," Tony yells in response.

The pizza guy looks mildly frightened when Tony answers the doorbell.  "Big party," he says, and Tony catches the way his eyes widen at the sight of Kurt poking Jan with his tail.

"We like to have a good time," Tony says and tips the kid twice the cost of the pies.  "Anyone asks, it's just a few friends up here, clear?"

"Sure, man.  Whatever."

The kid's bravado makes Tony chuckle.  The sudden push on the door from a rather angry-looking Maria Hill makes him wish for backup.  "Maria," Tony throws open the door so that Maria has to fight to keep her footing.  "What brings you by?"

"Other than the orgy?"

"A little credit, please, Hill.  I don't usually start my orgies until long after dark."  Tony watches her scan the room, and he follows her line of sight.  Steve's surrounded by people in the far corner of the room, but Tony doubts Hill can identify Steve by his hair alone.  "So," and he drops his voice to make sure her intrusion is noted, "what brings you by?"

"You've been incommunicado for over twelve hours, Stark.  It raised a few flags."

"Personal matters, Hill."

She scowls at him.  "You're director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony.  You don't have personal matters."

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose and watches Maria scan the room again. "You looking for something in particular?"

"The personal matter," Maria's tone is pure ice.  "I don't see anything leggy enough for your tastes."  Her eyes widen, and Tony knows he's about to lose the battle.  "Is that—"

"Maria!"  Steve cuts across the room with ease.  "I didn't think you were on the guest list."

"There was a guest list?"  Maria looks ready to flay Tony with a particularly dull knife.  "And how long have you been back?"

Tony presses his lips together to keep from smiling at Steve's pole axed look.  "Steve surfaced yesterday, Maria.  I was going—"

"I'm sure you were," she cuts in with the dirtiest look she's ever given Tony.  "You're the Director, Tony.  When people come back from the dead, you call someone."

"I think I should just…" Steve glances at Tony and plants his feet.  "Never mind."

"This doesn't concern you, Rogers."

"Actually, Ms. Hill, as you're discussing my miraculous recovery, I think this very much concerns me."

"Steve, she's right.  This is much less about you than about how she feels about my position."

"I've got a position for you right here, Stark."

Steve's eyebrows shoot up.  "Well.  Okay."  He touches Tony's arm and points to the opposite side of the room.  "A quick word before you two have it out?"

"Of course," Tony agrees while the color goes up a notch in Maria's face. He lets Steve lead him to the other side of the room and gives him his best smile.  "Yes?"

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Steve can't keep the smirk off his. "You're antagonizing her because you can."

"She antagonizes—"

"Why are you running S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony?"

"Haven't we had this conversation?"  Tony raises his eyebrows at Steve's hard look.  "What?  We have."

"No, you've told me it's because no one else wants the job."

"No one does."

"Really?"  Steve exaggerates looking over his shoulder at Maria Hill. "She'd take it off your hands."

"And run it into the ground.  No, thank you."  Tony holds up a hand to keep Steve from interrupting.  "You threw yourself out of the Helicarrier and rode a fighter jet to a football field to keep from taking her orders."

Steve laughs.  "I did not."

"You did.  I have the surveillance photos, and I won't let someone you don't trust run the place."  Tony looks away at the emotion that suddenly surfaces in Steve's eyes.  "I guess when I say no one wants the job, I mean that I haven't found anyone good enough for your standards."

"Tony," Steve shakes his head.  "You can't use me to set your standards."

"You're the most honorable man I know, Steve."

Steve looks at his feet.  "I'm just an old soldier, Tony."

"You're not."  Tony catches the end of a glare from Maria before she's distracted by Logan.  "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s standards should be as high as their best operative.  That's you."

"I was dead, Tony."

"You were still the best, Steve."

"Okay, fine, I'm the best.  But I'm alive right now and looking at you, and I think you should quit."

Tony crosses his arms.  "Oh, yeah?  Why?"

"Because you hate it," Steve says like it's enough.

"That's not—"

"Because it makes you tired all the time.  Because your second-in-command is currently debating the size of body bag she'll need.  Because I'm here now, and you can forgive yourself for all the wrong-doings you didn't actually do."

"I…you can't expect me to agree for no reason."

"Then agree because you know I'm right."

Tony rolls his eyes at Steve's presumption, but he doesn't get a chance to argue.  Jessica Jones cuts between them and pulls at Steve's arm.  "Jen's about to start some music, and you have to dance with me."

"It'll be my pleasure."  Steve gives Tony one last serious look.  "Do it, Tony."

"I don't do things just because you say so."

"You're saying I'm wrong?"

"I'm saying…" Tony trails off and rubs a hand through his hair.  "Oh, god, who am I kidding?"  He walks across the room and stands toe-to-toe with Maria.  "You don't like me."

"True," she puts her hands on her hips.  "What that has to do—"

"Shut up, Hill; I'm about to make you a very happy agent."  Tony pauses to make sure she actually stays quiet.  "I quit."

Maria blinks.  "What?"

"I quit.  You will not succeed me, but you won't have to deal with me anymore."  Tony doesn't wait for her to recover.  "Pepper will be in contact with you to get your recommendations for a new director."

"I've got more experience—"

"I don't like you, Maria, and now that I'm no longer your boss, I will gleefully boot your ass out of here."  Tony throws open the door and gestures grandly.  "Get out."

She stares.  "You can't be serious."

"Good bye, Maria.  I think you'll understand when I don't wish you good luck."  Tony breaks into a grin when she storms out, muttering under her breath, and throwing him one last angry look.  He shuts and locks the door before turning around.

She-Hulk is behind him, and she's smiling like the world's in order.  "I did not just see that."

"You did," Tony replies, and offers his arm.  "Care to take a spin on the dance floor?"

"Is this a double party now?"

Tony spots Steve in the middle of the floor, dipping Jessica Jones with an understated flourish.  "No.  This falls under the general celebration of having Steve back.  Let's just enjoy it."

After Jessica, Jan demands a dance, and once Steve takes her for a spin, Carol takes her turn.  It's nearly an hour before Steve can beg off and get a bit of rest.  He snags a piece of pizza and grins when Logan pierces a soda for him.  "Thanks."

"Sure."  Logan retracts his claw and pops his knuckles.  "You smell like Tony."

"You're not surprised."

"You've smelled like Tony a lot."

Steve almost blushes.  There's something about Logan's disinterested tone that seems more invasive than the most pointed questioning.  "Anything else, Logan?"

"Nah," Logan's smile would be a laugh from anyone else, "just wanted to say hi."

"Hi."

Logan snorts and walks off.  Steve takes a drink of his soda and grins when Peter walks over.  "Hey, Peter."

"Hi."  Peter gets a slice of pizza and looks at Steve from the corner of his eye.  "Do you have a minute?"  His voice wavers just a bit, but the look in his eyes says he won't back down.

"Of course."  Steve looks around and points towards the windows.  "Balcony?"

"Yeah."

Steve lets Peter lead the way.  He watches the way Peter adjusts his shoulders and smiles when Peter checks to see that he's still there.  The balcony is empty, and Peter jumps on the balcony railing, balancing himself with ease.  "What's up?"  Steve asks and bites into his pizza.

"I'm glad you're back, but I just think…" Peter looks out over the city and readjusts his feet.  "It's weird that you're all chummy with Tony."

Steve's eyebrows go up.  "Why?"

"Because you beat the shit out of each other."  Peter switches his attention to the view of the party.  "And I mean you really beat the shit out of each other.  He broke your arm and your leg and pretty much pummeled your face."

"I don't remember that," Steve says when Peter looks at his shoes.  "But he told me about it."

"His version, maybe."

"No, just the truth.  Unless you're going to tell me that I didn't beat the crap out of him.  Or that I didn't refuse attempts at negotiation with him."

There's a long pause.  Peter toys with his shoelace.  "I can't tell you that."

"Tony did.  And he told me about the S.H.I.E.L.D. squads being sent to hunt for superheroes.  He told me about using our enemies to help him find the resistance.  He told me about Thor."

Peter's head snaps up.  "He told you about Thor?"

"He told me everything, Peter.  The good and the bad on both of us."  Steve steps over and places his hand on Peter's shoulder.  "Now, tell me something."

"Sure," and the wide-eyed earnestness makes Steve ache a little.

"Are you honestly worried that Tony's going to lie to me, or do you think you should be worried because my being back reminds you of everything that's already said and done?"

There's another long pause.  Peter doesn't look away from Steve.  "More option B than option A."

"Good."  Steve smiles a little.  "I'd rather you be worried because of old scars than concerned about the possibility of new ones."

"It's been weird without you."  Peter looks in at the party again.  "Tony's been weird."

"Tony's always weird."

"Not like that," Peter shakes his head and kills the cheerfulness Steve was trying to inject into the conversation.  "I've tried to make amends a few times; it seemed stupid to keep fighting after the invasion, but I don't think he even hears me when I try to have a conversation."

"He hears you, Pete.  He willfully chooses not to listen."

Peter's mouth presses sideways in confusion.  "Why?"

"Because if Tony can't blame himself for everything he didn't do he'd be at a loss with what to do with his time."

"Okay, I know you're not joking, and that's pretty bad, but that's also kind of funny."

Steve shrugs.  "It's the truth.  It always has been.  Tony's a futurist because he thinks he's the problem.  If he can find a way to make the world work without him, he'll absolve himself."

"And that's officially as deep as I want to see this conversation."  Peter jumps off the railing and holds out his hand to Steve.  "No offense, but this is a party."

Steve could call him on his avoidance, but getting Peter to keep up a serious conversation is much like getting Tony to stop taking the blame. "It is.  Let's get back to it."

They step back inside, and Peter is immediately met by Mary Jane.  Steve takes her hug and well wishes and pushes her towards the dance floor with her husband.  He cuts along the edge of the room, slowed by the amount of affection people want to pour on him, and finally makes it to the study behind the kitchen.  Tony's in there, lying on the couch, and Steve grins at the sight of him.

"It's only five, you know."

Tony lifts the arm he has over his eyes and squints at Steve.  "Yeah, well, it's been a long couple of days.  If I'd known you were going to come back from the dead I'd have made sure to get a decent night's sleep before hand."

"Liar," Steve says affectionately and shuts the door.  The noise from the party dampens to almost nothing, and he sits down in front of the couch happily.  "Peter wants to forgive you, you know."

"I know."

"And you won't let him."

"Could we ignore my constant self-flagellation for a few minutes, please?" Tony turns on his side on the couch and looks at Steve.  "It's a party, after all."

"One you just abandoned."

"Hey, I'm not the man of the hour."

Steve gets on his knees and slides his hand up Tony's side.  "You should be.  You're the one who's made it through all this."

"Making it through alive still gets trumped by making it through dead."

"Not where I come from."  Steve pulls himself off the floor and maneuvers around Tony to get space on the couch.  "I'm not carrying the baggage of these last four years."

Tony sighs deeply and looks at Steve for a long, quiet moment.  "I have to tell you something."

Steve considers pointing out that Tony's told him everything, but there's worry behind Tony's serious look, and Steve just nods.  "Okay."

"Yesterday, after Strange worked his spells, he said there was a trace of Wanda in you.  He thinks she brought you back."

Steve closes his eyes for a moment.  "Is Wanda still up in that mountain village?"

"Yes."

"Has there been any sign of her in the last four years?"

"There have been little things here and there that may have been her, but nothing that could link to her directly."

Steve opens his eyes.  "Why me?"

"I don't know."

"There are so many other people she could—"

"No," Tony interrupts.  "If you're going to make me stop taking the guilt for everything, I'm going to stop making you downplay your importance. You're not just any old soldier, Steve.  You're Captain America."

"Bucky—"

"Bucky wouldn't have shoes to fill if you hadn't made such an impression."

Steve chuckles softly.  "I'm pretty sure that's a mixed metaphor."

"Probably.  I don't care.  My point stands."  Tony clenches his hand in the back of Steve's shirt.  "You're here again.  You can't wonder why you're the one who gets to come back.  If this is really Wanda's doing, then she has her reasons, and I'm a selfish bastard for not caring what they are."

"Nice try."

"On what?"

"On acting like it doesn't worry you."

Tony sighs.  "It worries me, yes, but what else can I do?  Wanda doesn't know who she is anymore."

"Are you sure?"

"Hank went to see her three years ago, and he said she's either completely unaware of what she can do, or she's faking it remarkably well."

"And what do you think?"

"I think that shortly after Hank returned from his sojourn to the mountains, a baby was born with an X-gene.  200 mutants left from millions, Hanks takes a trip to a woman who says she doesn't know who she is, and then hope for mutantkind again."  Tony gives Steve his best bland look.  "You tell me."

Steve thinks about it for a few seconds.  "We should go see her."

Tony pulls away a little.  "What?"

"We should go see her," Steve repeats.  "I don't know why I'm back, but I'm back, and I want to know why."

"She may not know."

"But maybe she does."

"But maybe she doesn't even know she did it."

Steve's left eyebrow goes up in challenge.  "If you're making that your hypothesis, you know we have to test it."

"That's not fair," Tony says around laughter.  He's not quite sure where the laughter comes from, but it feels good just to laugh without needing to be polite.  "You can't use the scientific method against me."

"Why not?"

"Because," Tony says and can't come up with anything else.  "You just came back, Steve," he says instead of trying to argue his point.  "You can't take off on an epic quest right away."

"Why not?"

"Because you're Captain America."  As soon as Tony says it, he knows it's the wrong answer.

"Bucky's Captain America, Tony.  I'm just Steve."

There's a pause.  Out in the living room, there's a crash followed by Jen's laughter.  "Bucky's taken the responsibility, Steve, but you'll always be Captain America."

Steve looks at Tony until he looks away.  "You really believe that."

"It's not an insult to Bucky.  It's the truth."

"Okay," Steve says and pauses for thought.  "Whether I'm Captain America or not, I'm still Steve Rogers and I want to know why I'm back."

"Because you're a good man."

"Bill was a good man.  Hank Pym was a good man."

But you're more pure, Tony thinks.  Bill and Hank had ghosts.  Steve's only ever had hope.  "She may have no answers, Steve."

Steve shifts and sits up, gives Tony a measuring look.  "You're scared."

"Yes," Tony admits quietly.  "She wiped out the world.  She may see you and decide she doesn't want you alive after all."

"I'm an old soldier, Tony. I have to stay dead sometime."

Tony leans his head against the armrest and heaves a sigh.  "That isn't a good way to convince me."

"I'll go alone."

He will, Tony knows.  "Can we argue this out after the party wraps up?  I can have Hank stay back.  He can tell you what he knows."

Steve considers it.  "Okay," he says and stands.  "That's fair."

Hearing Steve say it pulls a weight off of Tony's chest.  He breathes deep. "Thank you."

Steve opens the door and the sounds of the party rock into the room.  "Come on.  I'm not done celebrating."  He leads the way into the noise, and Tony feels himself smiling.

*

"It's difficult to say how aware she really is," Hank's hands are cupped around his coffee mug, and he's looking at the countertop.  "Like Tony's said, my interaction with her and the birth of the first X-Gene baby since M-Day raise considerable questions."

"Correlation doesn't mean causation," Tony tells Steve, "but with Wanda, that's a harder line to draw."

"Science versus magic?"  Steve asks.

"Not quite."  Hank looks at Steve, his shoulders dropping out of their hunch.  "This is more a hybrid.  It's Wanda's mutation that allows her to control magic.  It's the conscious or unconscious use of her control that is in question."

"Let's say," Steve pauses.  "Let's hypothesize," Steve grins when Tony and Hank both chuckle, "that she doesn't know she's brought me back.  What's her first reaction?"

"Fear or maybe complete disregard."  Tony grabs a pad and pencil from the other end of the table.  "She may blink you out of existence or ask who you are."

"She may attack," Hank says.  "She may retreat."

"She might hide," Steve adds.  "If she knows what she's done, she may not show at all."

"She'll show," Hank insists.  "I sat at a street-side café and ordered her a tea before she got there."

"Which gives an arguing point for her own self-awareness."  Tony scribbles a note onto his pad.  "I'm assuming you didn't send ahead word, Hank."

"No," Hank says and takes a sip of his coffee.  "I had no idea how to address it."

"There are too many variables to predict how she'll respond," Steve says. "So, question two:  why me?"

There's a long pause.  Hank taps his claws on the table; Tony sketches schematics onto his pad.  Steve watches them both.  "I will not believe that neither of you has a theory."

Hank and Tony look at one another.  Hank speaks first.  "The world's a darker place, Steve.  We're rebuilding and grasping at hope, but there's a base of fear in the spine of everyone in the world now. Optimism is a scarce commodity."

"Downplay yourself all you want," Tony adds, "but you're important, Steve."

"This doesn't make any sense," Steve says with a shake of his head. "Bucky's Captain America.  The symbol carried on after I died.  I know Bucky's methods are different, but his heart is good."

"Bucky's jaded."

Steve squints at Tony.  "What are you saying?"

"There were other Captain Americas after your first death, Steve.  People stepped up and put on the mask, and it never quite worked.  Bucky's the first person to take the responsibility and carve his own personality in around it."

"Tony's point," Hank cuts in, "is that the reason you were always successful as Captain America is because of you, Steve.  There's a goodness in you that can't be emulated, and the need to carry on that goodness affects the other people attempting to be Captain America."

"They try to be Steve Rogers," Tony expounds when Steve just looks lost. "It's not the mask or responsibility of being a hero.  It's the responsibility of respecting what you created."

"But Bucky—"

"Actually knows you, worked with you.  He's seen you be a man."

Steve shakes his head.  "This is crazy."

"Says the man recently back from the dead," Hank says drolly.

Steve throws him a look.  "You can't actually think that Wanda brought me back because I'm some sort of golden boy."

"That's exactly what we're saying."  Tony watches Steve struggle with the idea.  "The world needs optimism, Steve."

"I can't…you can't…"  Steve stands up from the table and stares out the window.  "There are better people in the world than me."

"But how many of them did Wanda know?"  Hank asks quietly.

There's a long pause, full of emotion and unasked questions.  Steve turns from the window and shoves his hands in his pockets.  "I'm going for a walk."

Tony blinks.  "What?"

"You're asking me to accept the idea that I'm so important to the state of the world that Wanda brought me back from the dead.  I'm going for a walk."

Tony opens his mouth to protest, but Hank cuts him off.  "I think the air will do wonders, Steve.  Do you need a communicator?"

"Yeah, that'd probably be best."

Hank nudges Tony when Tony doesn't move.  "I don't know where you keep them, but I assume they're somewhere in here."

"They're in the study."  Tony stands up and stalks to the study, the door slamming shut behind him.

"He'll be fine," Hank says to Steve.

"He thinks I'm mad at him."  Steve gives Hank a small smile.  "I'm not, for the record."

"I didn't think anything of the type."

Tony comes back out of the study, shoulders stiff, communicator clutched in his hand.  He holds it out to Steve.  "I've linked it straight to the Extremis.  If you need me, I'll feel it."

Steve takes the communicator and tucks it into his ear.  He places his hands on either side of Tony's face and makes Tony look at him.  "I'm not mad. I'm confused."

"I know that."

"No, you don't."  Steve shakes Tony's head back and forth gently.  "You're asking me to accept something about myself that I disagree with, okay?  I know I'm a decent person, but the way you're talking, I'm some sort of savior."

"How you can't see it—"  Tony's cut off when Steve kisses him on the mouth.

"I'll be back before midnight."

Tony and Hank watch Steve walk out the door.  Hank looks at Tony in his peripheral vision.  "So, that's going on now?"

"Yes," Tony says fiercely.  "And as I'm not in ribbons, I assume you're not distressed by the idea."

"You were always good for each other," Hank says and stands.  He walks to the kitchen and rinses out his mug.  "You could make each other laugh."  He smiles at Tony.  "Chess?"

Tony smiles in return.  "One board or three?"

*

Steve stands on the stairs at the base of the Tower and looks around.  The construction crews have all gone home for the night, and the half-finished buildings make odd shadows on the street.  Steve zips up his jacket and turns left off the steps.  He doesn't know where he's going, but he knows he has to be on the street.

Half a block down, there's a man leaning against a building.  He's got a cup in front of him and smiles when Steve looks at him.  "Evening."

"Hi," Steve says and reaches for his wallet. It takes him a moment to realize he doesn't have one.  "I don't have anything."

"Least you were willing to look," The man smiles, and Steve realizes he's not as old as he looks.

"How did you end up here?"  Steve asks.

The man points down the street to one of the unfinished buildings.  "Used to live there.  I don't now."

"The invasion."

The man nods.  "Yeah.  Took out a lot of us.  Lost my job when the economy tanked afterwards."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

The man waves him off.  "Not like I'm the only one."

Steve looks up and down the street.  There are other people against other walls.  "The job market hasn't recovered?"

"You're not from around here, huh?"

"Used to be," Steve sticks his hands into his pockets.  "I've been out of town for a while."

"Welcome back."

Something in Steve twinges at the man's defeated tone.  "I know it doesn't help much, but things will get better."

"Yeah," the man looks at his cup.  "That and a buck, man."

A cold knot settles in Steve's stomach, and he walks down the street noticing all the small changes.  There are more bars on the windows than Steve remembers, and the corner store where he used to make midnight runs with Peter has gone out of business.  The sign in the window tells Steve it was a planned closing and thanks the neighborhood for years of faithful patronage.  There are other empty store fronts, and everyone walks with their heads down.  Steve bumps shoulders with a woman, and she jumps.

"I'm sorry," Steve says.

"Shut up," she snaps at him and keeps moving away.

Steve stops walking and turns in a slow circle.  Half the buildings he can see are boarded up or partially wrecked.  There are no street carts on the corners, and when Steve tries to flag a taxi, the driver gives him the bird.

"This is what it's like now."

Steve turns around.  Bucky jumps down from a fire escape and stands next to Steve.  "It's in better shape than it was, but that's not saying much."

"There's so much…" Steve shakes his head as he looks down the street again. "I just can't believe it."

"Stark must have warned you."

"There's knowing, and there's knowing, Buck."

"I guess."  Bucky adjusts the straps of his shield and drums his fingers on the butt of his gun.  "You couldn't have thought it was better than this."

"I'd hoped," Steve responds.  He catches the incredulity on Bucky's face. "I don't remember the build-up, and Tony's a constant pessimist."

"Not about this," Bucky shrugs at Steve's hard look.  "Things suck.  They've been sucking."

"That's doesn't mean things have to be like this."  Steve raises his eyebrows when Bucky smirks.  "What?"

"Always the optimist," Bucky says with a derisive edge.

"One of us should be."  Steve finds himself chuckling.  "We've had this conversation too many times, Buck."

"Yeah," Bucky grins a little.  "At least we're not drunk this time."

"Or in France."  Steve full-out laughs when Bucky grimaces.  "Were you hoping I'd forgotten?"

"You never forget anything."  Bucky suddenly freezes, eyes sharp, and puts up a hand to Steve.  "Hold on."

He ducks into an alley, and Steve listens to the sounds of the fight. There's an itch in his palms to join in, but Steve stays in place.  He raises his eyebrows when Bucky comes around the corner.  "Fine?"

"Perfect."  Bucky straightens his uniform top and looks at Steve.  "Look, nothing's great right now, but I'm glad you're back."

"Yeah?"

"Things are better when you're around," Bucky says like it's fact.

Steve doesn't know what to say to that.  He watches Bucky scale the fire escape.  "Be careful."  Bucky throws him a wave, and Steve waves back as Bucky disappears into the shadows.

*

Tony loses four games of three to Hank before giving up on concentration. "My head's not here."

"I've certainly trounced you enough for my ego," Hank starts to put the pieces back into their respective boxes.  He watches Tony pace by the windows.  "He'll be back soon, I'm sure."

"I know that."  Tony turns from the windows.  "I'm just…worried," he grinds out between his teeth.  "I know he can take care of himself, but—"

"You can be worried, Tony.  It's only natural to have concern given the circumstances."

"I know, Hank," Tony rubs his face and looks out the window again.  "Untrue to popular belief, I do worry."

"It's never been a question of if you worry, Tony; it tends to be a question about how much, and if you'll ever admit you do it."

"I always admit I do it."

"To whom?"  Hank raises his eyebrows when Tony levels a glare.  "It's a fair question."

"Pepper knows."

"Pepper doesn't count.  I believe she's learned to tune you out."

Tony's searching for a proper comeback when the door opens, and Steve walks in.  He stops just inside the threshold and looks back and forth from Tony to Hank.  "Was I an interesting conversation?"

"Only in the last few minutes," Hank says.  "I believe I'll leave you to it."  He pats Steve's shoulder on the way out.  "Best of luck."

"Thanks," Steve says, confused.  He looks at Tony when the door latches. "So, good night for you?"

"How was your walk?"

"Not what I was expecting."  Steve peels off his jacket and tosses it on the kitchen counter.  "I ran into Bucky."

"He's a bit north of us usual territory."

"Is there territory anymore?"  Steve walks down into the living room and stops at the end of the couch.

"Bucky usually handles Brooklyn with some help from Black Widow and Daredevil.  We only see him up here when there's a threat that's crossed into Manhattan."  Tony walks around the table and curls his hands over the back of a chair.  "The lines are blurred, but the easiest way to deal with things is to stake out a claim."

"There's not much to stake anymore.  Out there, it looks…" Steve glances at the window.  "Have people given up?"

"People have gotten tired.  It's hard to find the energy to recreate when you need so much just to keep going anymore."

"How?"  Steve catches the bare hint of a smile at the corner of Tony's mouth.  "What?"

"Only you…" Tony shakes his head and walks over to Steve.  "This right here, Steve.  This is why you're back."

Steve cocks his head.  "What are you talking about?"

"You."  Tony pokes Steve in the chest.  "Wanda brought you back because you went out there, you walked around, and you wondered how it couldn't be better."

"Maybe.  I don't know.  It just seems natural to think things can be better."

"It's natural to think it.  You're one of the few who will actually try to fix the whole world yourself."

Steve grins.  "You too."

Tony waves off the compliment.  "We tackle it differently. I throw money at it; you go out and talk to people about it."

"You do more than throw money."

"Not anymore.  There's too much to do now."

"You really think Wanda brought me back for this?"

Tony shrugs.  "I don't know.  It's a working theory put together based on subjective feelings about—"

Steve holds up a hand.  "You think it's true because you want it to be true."

Tony smirks.  "More or less."

"Okay," Steve thinks for a minute.  "There's only one way to actually test your theory, you know."

"Yeah," Tony sighs and scratches his goatee.  "But you're not going to see her alone."

"Thank you."

"I'll have to make arrangements.  You need some form of ID.  Pepper will have to clear my schedule, and I'll need to make sure there's someone to keep an eye on Midtown while I'm away.  And I still have to pick a new head of S.H.I.E.L.D."  Tony opens up the extremis and looks through his dossier. "It'll take at least three days.  I know where to go for ID, and the rest is just restructuring."

"Tony?"  There's a smile in Steve's voice.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Tony puts the extremis into silent mode and looks Steve in the eyes. "You're welcome."

"There you go."

*

"You can't be serious."

Luke's scowl would be fiercer, Steve thinks, if Danielle weren't bouncing on his leg.  "I am.  We're leaving in two days."

"Is it safe to do that?"  Jessica sits at the table and folds her hands over each other.  "I mean, Wanda's nuts, right?"

"Maybe," Steve concedes, "but if Tony's theory is right—"

"She might only maim you."  Luke lifts Danielle off his knee and looks her in the eyes.  "Grown-ups have to talk, sweetheart."

Danielle pouts.  "I wanna listen."

"Tough," Luke responds and pokes her in the belly.

Danielle curls in on herself and giggles.  "Not funny."

"To your room, kiddo," Jessica says sternly.  "You can come back out in a minute."

"Fine."  Danielle drags her feet and makes a production out of closing her door.

"This shit is fucked up," Luke says as soon as he's certain Danielle isn't listening.  "You're lining yourself up for some serious damage."

"I'm used to damage, Luke."

"Yeah, maybe, but you just got un-dead.  You willing to find out if it's gonna stick?"

"I have to know."

"That's stupid."  Luke crosses his arms.

"It's not," Jessica says quietly.  She reaches across the table, and Luke uncrosses his arms to take her hand.  "There are some things, no matter how fucked up, you have to know."

Luke is quiet for a minute.  "She's right," he says, squeezing Jessica's hand, "but I still think you're making a stupid choice."

Steve can't help but smile.  "That's why I came here."

"To get told you're making a stupid choice?"

"If I could even halfway convince you that it's a necessary trip, then I can convince everyone else."

Jessica laughs at the shocked look on Luke's face.  "I think you broke him."

"Thanks," is all Luke says, and Steve stands up to shake his hand.

"I appreciate the help."

*

"She's crazy, Tony.  You know that."

"I'm aware, Pep."

"She could kill you with a thought."

"So could a lot of people I know."  Tony hands her four folders.  "Those are my short list for the director position."

Pepper tucks them under her arm.  "I'll send a courier to the Helicarrier this afternoon."  She pushes a stack of paperwork across the desk.  "Sign where I've marked with yellow arrows and initial where I've marked with red arrows."

"What are these?"

"Pay raises, budgeting for next quarter, and the latest on the rebuilding. I've uploaded everything to the extremis; you can read it on the plane." She watches him sign.  "Are you taking your armor?"

"Of course."

"But you're not going to wear it."

"Not to meet her, no.  We don't know what her response will be."

"Because she's crazy."  Pepper stops Tony from flipping a page and points to a half-hidden red arrow.  "Initials."

"Thanks," Tony initials then lays down his pen.  He gives Pepper a serious look.  "I'll be okay."

"Very famous last words from you."

He can't help but laugh.  "Encouraging, Pep."

"Just be careful, okay?  And when I say 'careful' I mean actually careful."

"Yes, Ms. Potts."

She smiles, but there's nervousness in the edges of it.  "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

*

"You can't be serious."

"I thought you of all people—"

Logan cuts off Steve with a snort.  "I'm the most un-trusting bastard you know."

Steve concedes the point with a chuckle.  "I suppose so."

Logan grumbles to himself as static cuts across the communicator link. "You're in the air already, aren't you?"

Steve looks across the aisle at Tony, who is immersed in reading a file. "Yeah, I might be."

"Bastard," Logan says causally.  "You tell anyone else you were going on this little sojourn?"

"I talked to Luke, and Tony told Pepper."

"Luke's probably waitin' to be sure you actually went through with it." Logan growls under his breath.  "You get blown up, I'm not comin' to retrieve the body."

"That's comforting."  Tony looks over, and Steve flashes him a smile. "We'll be fine, Logan."

"You, I trust.  Wanda and Tony, not so much."

"You just said you're the most un-trusting bastard I know.  Of course you don't trust them."

Logan grumbles something that might be a laugh.  "And you want me to get word out, right?"

"I'm gone, Tony's with me; you're the next senior Avenger."

"You owe me beer."

"Of course," Steve concedes.  "I'll call when we reach the mountain."

"Unless you're dead."

Steve doesn't get a chance to respond before Logan cuts the communicator. Steve rolls his eyes and looks over at Tony.  "Logan's in his usual good spirits."

"Which is to say he hates the idea of being in charge without warning."

"That's not entirely fair."  Steve stands up and walks across the aisle to sit next to Tony.  "Logan hates finding out anything without warning."

Tony grins and closes his folder.  "True."  He rubs the bridge of his nose. "And you really think Logan's the best way to tell everyone where you're going?"

"He'll be the least dramatic about it.  I only told Luke to see if he could find a compelling reason to talk me out of it."

"My arguments over the last three days haven't been enough?"

"Your arguments over the last three days haven't been convincing.  You want to go as badly as I do."

Tony stands and walks to the inlaid bar.  He carefully pours himself a cup of coffee and fills a second cup at Steve's nod.  "Not knowing," he says after he's handed Steve his cup, "is worse when you know there's an actual answer to be had.  Or, at least, a reasonable chance of an actual answer."

"The scientist goes all the way to the marrow."

"If that's what it takes for information."  Tony takes a drink of coffee and puts his mug in a cup holder.  He looks at the flight path that displays on a television mounted between two windows, and then he reaches for Steve. "Fourteen hours before we land.  I have a large bed, and we could die tomorrow."

Steve stands.  "I'd have sex with you without the fatalism."

"It's not the sex."  Tony doesn't quite look at Steve when he says it.

Steve looks at Tony's jaw and the line of his back and the way his tie hangs half-knotted from his neck.  "It's never been," is all he says, and the release of tension flows off Tony like water.  "Idiot," Steve says fondly.

"Smarter than you," Tony says with a hint of smile.

"Not really," Steve counters.  He lets Tony lead him into the sleep area and laughs when Tony pushes him onto the bed.

*

It's blistering cold on top of the mountain.  The locals inform Tony and Steve that the cold snap is a complete surprise.  One young man, after pouring them coffee, simply says, "Yesterday.  Very warm. Strange."

"That's not comforting," Tony says when the man walks away.

"It could be a cold snap."

"You don't believe that."

Steve adds milk to his coffee and stirs.  "No."  He points out the window. "Give the sudden turn, everything should be dead."

Tony follows the line of his finger.  There's a small clump of bright red flowers that don't have any sign of frost.  "That's not right."

"It's a very hardy flower."

Steve and Tony turn, and there she is, bundled in a red parka and white scarf.  Her hair is loose around her face, and her boots are dark brown. "Hello," Steve says after a pause.

"I apologize for my interruption," she says apologetically.  "But I love those flowers."

"I'm Tony," he holds out his hand.  "This is Steve, and you are?"

"Wendy."  Wanda shakes Tony's hand.  "We don't get many tourists."

"A friend recommended us.  Hank McCoy."  Steve watches Wanda's face for recognition.

"I'm afraid I don't know the name."  Wanda unwinds her scarf.  "But I rarely talk to visitors."

"You talked to us."

She smiles at Tony, and there's an ache between his ribs.  "So I did.  May I  sit?"

"Of course," Steve stands and pulls out a chair.

"A gentleman," she sits.  "We get so very few of those."

"Wendy," Tony says conversationally, "that's an uncommon name for these parts."

"My mother loved the story of Peter Pan.  I'm afraid my lack of adventure left her disappointed."  Wanda smiles at both of them.  "I've hardly ever left the mountain."

"Hardly ever?"  Steve sips his coffee.

"Just once, to see a city."  Wanda waves her hand.  "I can't say I was impressed."

"Not what you were expecting?"

"It was very dark and dirty," Wanda answers Steve.  "I'd hoped for something less…depressing."

Tony clenches his fingers around his mug until his nails ache.  "There's more than one city in the world.  Maybe you visited the wrong one."

"Perhaps," Wanda curls a lock of hair around her finger.  "But I much prefer it here.  It's wonderfully simple."  She looks from Tony to Steve.  "Would you like to hear a story?"

"Yes," Steve says before Tony can refuse.

"Good."  Wanda closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath.  "There was once a very dark place full of fog and small, crawling insects.  This dark place had tiny pinpricks of light that would sometimes shine on the insects.  The insets barely noticed the lights unless they were terribly cold and needed to be warm.

"One day, one of the pinpricks of light stopped shining.  The insects didn't notice the lack of a single light, but slowly all the other lights faded, and the insects were left without any warmth at all.  They died of the cold, and all that was left was the darkness and the fog."

There's a measure of silence, and then Tony says, "That's not a happy story."

"Not all stories should be," Wanda says with confidence.  "Some stories should be honest."

"Are you always honest?"  There's an undercurrent in Tony's voice that makes Wanda's eyes widen.

"Of course not.  Who can be honest all the time?"  Wanda looks at Steve. "Are you always honest?"

"I try to be."

Wanda beams.  "I like that answer."

"Thank you," Steve says, but he can't smile back.

Tony stands.  "We're done here."  He looks at Wanda, reaches out, and brushes her hair away from her face.  "Wendy grew up," he says to Wanda. "Wendy grew too old for fairy tales, and when Peter returned, he didn't know her.  She couldn't go back to Neverland, and she grew too old for fairy tales."

Wanda turns her head away, her hair brushing Tony's fingertips.  "You have a cruel heart."

"But it's there."  Tony drops coins on the table.  "For the coffee and story," he explains coldly and walks out the door.

Steve joins him a minute later.  "You saw it," is all he says.

"Bright red in the back of her eyes."  Tony clenches his jaw as the wind suddenly rises.  "She knows who she is.  She knows what she did."

"She won't tell us anything."

"No."

"I don't want to stay here," Steve says after a measure.  "Let's go home."

"The jet's still being refueled."

Steve stamps his feet to fight off the cold.  "We can wait in the car."

"All right," Tony agrees.

It's a slippery, slushy walk to the bottom of the hill where the car is parked in the lot of a small hotel.  Tony nods to the driver who jumps out to open their doors and says, "Call the landing strip.  Tell them we're not staying.  I'm aware the plane needs to finish re-fueling, but make sure they know they need to step on it."

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

"Thank you."  Tony slides into the car after Steve and only lets his teeth chatter once the door is closed.  "Christ."

"The temperature's dropped," Steve observes, pointing to the digital thermometer mounted on the ceiling.

"Think she wants us gone?"  Tony asks sardonically.  He looks down when Steve grasps his hand.  "You okay?"

"It's her, but it's not her," Steve says quietly, looking at the window. "There's so much of it now.  You're you, but you're not.  The Avengers are here, but they're not.  New York is there, but it's not."

"You're still you," Tony says.

"Man out of time," Steve mutters to himself.  "Again and again."

"Man with hope," Tony replies, "always."

Steve turns towards Tony.  "I'm not feeling very hopeful right now.  Wanda—"

"Her mistakes are her own, Steve.  Don't blame yourself for Wanda's breakdown."

"We were in charge, Tony.  We should have seen something."

"Maybe we did.  Maybe she made us forget."

Steve's eyebrows go up.  "That's harsh."

"She reinvented the world," Tony says, an edge to his voice.  "She killed millions because she was in a bad mood.  Rewiring our brains to suit her psychosis isn't outside of reason."

"You hate her."

"I wish."  Tony pulls his hand away from Steve and clenches it against his knee.  "I want to, Steve.  Everything she did, the hurt she caused, but I can't hate her."  Tony unclenches his hands and rubs them over his face.  "I knew her for so long.  I tried to hate her for so long, and then I got the call from Barnes, and there you were."

"Bringing me back doesn't gain her nearly enough to allow unconditional forgiveness."

"I'm selfish enough that it does."

Steve reaches out and rests his hand on the back of Tony's neck.  "If that were true, you wouldn't be having a crisis.  You want me to be important enough to you that having me back is worth what Wanda did."  Steve gives Tony a small smile.  "I don't want to be that important to you, Tony. That's a level of hero worship I don't think I could handle."

Tony can't suppress a laugh.  "You've had that level of hero worship for years, Steve."

Steve holds up a hand.  "Don't tell me, please.  The pressure's high enough."

"Everyone respects you," Tony says.  "Everyone wants to live up to you."

"Everyone wants me to tell them how to fix things," Steve responds.

"Yeah," Tony agrees and looks out the window.  "They'll listen if you talk, Steve.  They'll find hope in you."

"I have to think about it."

"There's a finite amount of time at hand."

"I'm aware," Steve says, a touch sharply.  "But you're asking me to fix an injury of which I only have second-hand information.  I can't just jump in and start barking orders.  I have to get a feel for what's happened.  Talk to people—"

"Read the names on the wall," Tony interjects.

Steve's serious look drops into one of tired pleasure.  "Yeah.  Things like that."

"Do them," Tony orders.  "Talk to people, see the damage, drop every cent you have into every beggar's cup you can find, and get New York into your skin again."

"And save it."

"If you want."

"If I can."  Steve looks out the window as the car pulls up to the airstrip.  "There's so much more than hope, Tony.  I'd need funds.  I'd need people."

"Remember who you're talking to," Tony says with a laugh.  "I can easily supply the funds, and if you decide you're going for it, the people will come in droves."

"Maybe," Steve says quietly.

"Definitely," Tony counters.

*

A week later, and Tony gets a call from Hank.  "I would have called sooner, but there were some explosions."

"I saw the news.  Good work."

"Thank you," Hank's tone turns serious, "Were you successful?"

"We found her, and she said as much as she probably ever will."

"And your theory?"

"Not conclusively proven, but close enough, I think."  Tony looks into the living room from the kitchen and studies Steve in the flickering light of the television.  "We're still coming to terms."

"I understand completely."

*

Two weeks after he goes up the mountain, Steve meanders his way through Lower Manhattan.  The damage isn't as extensive here, but that makes it stand out more sharply.

"Heads up."

Steve cranes his neck and smiles at Spider-Man.  "Thought I might see you."

"Surprised to see you."  Spider-Man slides down the wall and stands in front of Steve.  "So, how's the domestic life?"

"I wouldn't know.  Tony does most of the cooking."  Steve's not sure, but he'd put money on one of Peter's eyebrows having just shot up.  "I was just taking in the sights."

"What's left of them," Peter waves towards a mostly-decimated brick structure.  "That was a lovely set of condos, selling for no less than the price of your soul."

"Did people live there?"

"Nah," Peter says coolly.  "I don't think they'd finished putting in the marble everything."

Steve chuckles.  "That's a victory, I suppose."

"Yeah, condos are so overdone."  Peter shrugs when Steve gives him a look. "Hey, you're talking to Spider-Man; you want deep and philosophical, you know where Strange hangs out."

"I suppose."  Steve surveys the street again.  "Any idea when they're going to get everything re-built?"

"Probably right after they re-invent Midtown."  Peter jumps on the wall and starts to make his way up.  "Consider that my perfectly timed parting shot."

"Be careful," Steve calls with a wave.

*

Three weeks after the mountain, Tony's at the office, Pepper at his side, when Steve lets himself in.  "Morning," Tony says without looking up.

"Stand up," Steve orders.

Tony merely raises his eyebrows.  "I'm signing very important papers."

"Stand up."  There's a grin trying to break across Steve's face.

Tony glances at Pepper.  "What do you think?"

"I think he's bigger than you."  She takes the sheaf of papers from Tony and caps the pen.  "I'll let you two fight it out."
 
Tony stands once he hears the door latch.  Steve's across the desk and kissing him before he's had time to adjust his jacket.  "Hi," he says when Steve pulls away.

"Hi."

"What's put you in this mood?"

"I met a woman today."

Tony's mouth quirks into a smirk.  "That's not something I'd ever like to see you this excited about, for the record."

"Shut up," Steve says fondly.  "Her name's Myrna.  She just moved to New York from Chicago.  I asked her why."

"Why?"  Tony asks because it's expected.

"Because she believes in New York," Steve says, the grin stretched wide across his face.  "She says New York is where everything new always is, even when it's buried under everything old."

"That'd be a good sound byte."

"Yeah, it would," and Steve kisses Tony again.

*

A month after the mountain, Tony wipes the sweat from his face with a towel and watches as Steve finishes his last ten reps.  "Are you going back?"

Steve rubs the towel over his hair and shakes his head.  "I don't think so."

"Barnes would hand over your shield in a second."

"I wouldn't know what to do with it," Steve says.  "Bucky understands the darkness that's out there now.  The learning curve to get me back into the uniform could be disastrous."

"You were always a quick learner."

"That's because there wasn't anyone else around to learn it."  Steve stands and offers Tony a hand up from where he'd been stretching.  "And Bucky's fighting for redemption; I can't remove him from that."

"I suppose not."  They walk to the elevator, and Tony waits until they're inside before he asks, "So what about you?"

"I'm finalizing some thoughts," Steve says.  "I'll let you know as soon as they've settled."

*

Five weeks after the mountain, Steve greets Tony at the front door of the penthouse.  "I need a press conference."

"Oh?"  Tony tugs off his tie and throws it on the counter.  "What for?"

"I've finalized," Steve says and leads Tony to the dining table.  There are sketches laid out in neat rows, and a legal pad half-filled with notes.  "In order to get the city running properly again, we have to get the neighborhoods running properly again.  I've been sketching some ideas for community centers, housing, and a couple of school buildings.  If we can get those instituted, the work on the business side of the repairs can be used as incentive to get people back into the neighborhoods."

Tony flips through a few sketches and skims Steve's notes.  "These are good.  You'll need some fine-tuning, but you've got more than enough to make a pitch."

"That's not why I need the press conference."

"Then why?"

"I'm back from the dead, Tony."

"Oh, that," Tony says and laughs with Steve.  "So you're ready to tell?"

"I'm ready to show," Steve says with a wave of his hand, encompassing everything on the table.  "I'm ready to work."

"I'll make some calls."

*

Six weeks after the mountain, Steve stands at the lectern and looks out at the assembled crowd.  "My name is Steve Rogers," he starts, "and I was Captain America."

He doesn't need the microphone, Tony thinks; the crowd's so quiet Steve could whisper.

"I died," Steve continues, "and I'm standing here today.  I can't tell you how, and I can only guess to why, but I do know another chance when I see it.  I'm here today to tell you that I will not be Captain America."

There's a burst of questions from the journalists, and Steve holds up a hand to quiet them.  "I'm Steve Rogers, and New York is my city, and I plan to put her back to rights.  Captain America, whoever he is,"

Tony hides a grin when Barnes scoffs down the row.

"Is a man of integrity and honor."  Steve makes eye contact with Bucky.  It looks casual, practiced, and no one notices the way Bucky sits a little straighter in his chair.  "And had I been able to hand over the shield myself, I couldn't have chosen a better man to take the title of Captain America.  He'll help protect New York while I help rebuild."

"What does that mean?"  From somewhere in the pack of journalists.

"I'm told I inspire hope," Steve says. "I'm told that there are people who want to listen to what I have to say and help me find our city again."  He scans the crowd slowly.  "If that's true, I won't have to do much.  I'm just here to get the ball rolling and to tell people that I'm Steve Rogers.  I'm one man, and I'm here to put things right."

The cheer from the crowd is deafening.

*

"Told you so," Tony says much later as he buries his head into his pillow to go to sleep.

"Know it all," Steve returns, pressing in close to Tony's back and sliding a hand over his stomach.

"Futurist.  You're the future."

"We both are," Steve says and presses his nose to Tony's shoulder.  "Now go to sleep."

end