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kijikun.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
cap_ironman2008-09-08 09:35 pm
kijikun.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2008-09-08 09:35 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: All That Remains (7/?) (NC-17)
Title: All That Remains (7/?)
Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kijikun & miriel
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Warnings: Spoilers through "Fallen Son", references to an institutionalized childhood
Summary: Of course, if this was Steve, then who the hell had they buried in the ice?
Despite the almost-familiar surroundings of the penthouse guest room, Steve hadn't slept well. He'd thought just being back in the penthouse would help, but still the nightmares came. Each time he woke, his heart pounding as if he'd just sprinted White Plains to down town, his thoughts refused to settle. It wasn't the content of the nightmares that stayed with him, it was everything else. All of the uncertainties he found himself in the midst of - those he'd thought Tony would make right.
When the clock reached five, he'd given up and headed down the hall to the guest bathroom, wishing not for the first time that he was in the room he'd once called his own. There was something to be said for an en suite.
Whatever inconvenience there may have been, he was nothing but grateful when he had stepped under the spray of the shower. The water had been hot - not luke-warm, edging toward cold because the water heater was twenty-five years old and in need of replacing - and the water pressure itself had been marvelously strong. Best of all, there had been no one waiting impatiently for their turn - no reason not to lean against the tile wall and just allow the heat to soak into his bones.
Looking at himself in the mirror, it was no wonder that Tony hadn't believed him at first sight. Hell, if he didn't have the memories so clearly embedded in his mind, Steve might well not have believed that he was who he thought he was. The man who stared out at him from the mirror looked nothing the the Captain America that Steve remembered, not from when he was twenty or even when he was thirty. If even he could barely find the likeness, how could he have expected Tony to? And if he really wasn't Captain America anymore, if Bucky had taken on the mantle and Steve should just leave well enough alone, then that left a blank space that stretched over a large swath of the canvas that was his life.
Steve grimaced at the thought of changing back into his old clothing, but it wasn't as if he had another option - even at his lightest, he outweighed Tony by enough that sharing his former-lover's clothes was an unrealistic thought, and after everything that had happened, Steve didn't think he should count on Tony having kept any of the clothes he used to keep in the penthouse.
Basics dealt with, Steve decided to move on to breakfast, and a possible revisiting of the conversation the night before. He didn't particularly want to have it again - if he was honest, that was part of why he was slinking down the hallway before six in the morning - but there were too many unanswered questions. On both sides. There was also the possibility that a few hours of sleep would help them both to take a step back; Steve could admit that he'd certainly needed it, and Tony had looked ready to fall over, even if he had protested having more things left to do. Steve was pulled out of his contemplation by the sound of voices. Familiar voices, even - one voice was unmistakably Tony's, and the other belonged to Ms. Marvel - Carol. Steve paused in the hallway, ashamed to be hiding like a child, but unwilling to deal with yet another face from his past at this point. Especially when he didn't know what he was going to be doing for his future. While the location may have induced a small degree of guilt, it also afforded a rather good listening post.
"...Beijing go, Tony?" Carol was asking. "Did Maria have any problems?"
"Things went better than expected. Reed was there with Franklin. The kids seem to have become fast friends, although I have no idea what precipitated it. Not that I'm complaining. I was worried that- " Tony's voice dropped in volume, low enough that even Steve couldn't make out more than Maria's name and something about Reed's wife.
The discussion continued at the lower tone, and after several minutes had elapsed, Steve realized that maybe this was something he shouldn't intrude upon. Carol and Tony had always been close... He shook his head hard, attempting to quash the unwelcome thought. There were things he simply wasn't going to think about, this early in the morning. Not before he'd talked to Tony.
"Is she awake yet? I have a present for her," Carol's voice was louder, as if she'd moved closer to the doorway. Steve privately wondered why Carol would think that any child, especially one as young as the girl he'd seen last night, would be up at this time. Yes, he'd heard the horror stories from Sue about Franklin's "morning phase", but even he'd never been up before six. At least, Steve was relatively certain it had been six; he'd heard more about the situation from Reed, and, well... Reed had a way of losing track of time, so it was possible that Franklin had merely inherited yet another peculiar characteristic from his father.
"No," Tony's voice grew louder as well, and Steve could picture him casually blocking Carol's path. "She stayed up watching Raiders of the Lost Ark with me last night. She's probably still asleep."
"Tony, she's nine! Isn't that a bit young for a movie like that? Shouldn't she be watching things like...Sesame Street?" Carol's voice carried a heavy measure of reproach, though Steve wasn't sure why. Cassie Lang had watched the movie back when they'd still been in the mansion; she couldn't have been much older than nine when she'd first seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, and her father had never voiced concerns about it.
"Yes, Carol, she's nine, not four. I know there are concerns, but sometimes it's better to get these things out in the open, so they can be dealt with. Despite all of your concern, she seemed to enjoy the movie." Tony sighed, and Steve could imagine him rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Now, I hate to kick you out, but I have at least three meetings today that I have to be present for in body as well as mind. And you, unless I'm mistaken, have a group of Initiative trainees to inspire."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going, I'm going. I'll give them my famous 'only you can prevent forest fires' speech. They seem to like that one." Carol laughed, the sound warm and low, and Steve wondered how long it had been since any of those who'd followed him into the Civil War had laughed so freely. "Don't make that face at me, you know the kids respond better to a bit of humor. I'll leave you to your meetings. You'll give Maria her present when she wakes up, right?"
"If I'm not here to do it, Jarvis will."
"Not the point, Tony. And have you called Charles yet?"
"Goodbye, Carol."
The voices moved away, but Steve remained still for a long moment before walking into the living room. Part of him, a big part, hoped that Tony would return quickly - that they could talk without an audience. Steve wasn't sure he was up to dealing with Jarvis, had no idea if Tony had already informed him of Steve's return from the dead. Steve wasn't really up to dealing with anyone, which was why he'd come to Tony in the first place. No matter how things were resolved, it was going to be awkward. Deciding that he hadn't had enough sleep to actively go looking for trouble, Steve took the sensible action and settled into his favorite chair to wait.
* * *
When he returned from politely shoving Carol out the door, Tony wasn't surprised to see Steve sitting in the living room. One of the perks, and occasional downsides, to Extremis was access to any camera he wanted. So he'd known that Steve would be sitting there, shoulders slumped in a way that still set off alarm bells in the back of Tony's mind that just screamed wrong. Just as he'd known that Steve had been standing in the hallway. Though he wasn't completely sure just how long Steve had been standing there, or how much he'd heard; Tony really hoped it had only been a few moments.
Contrary to what he'd told Carol, Maria wasn't actually asleep. She'd been awake for almost an hour, though she'd been content to read in her room quietly, and for once Tony was glad for her instinctive need to follow orders. The excuse had been more to avoid an accidental encounter with Steve than anything else.
He still wasn't certain that the man sitting in his living room really was Steve - he would only be completely certain after running some basic, and not so basic, lab tests. But lab tests meant bringing Hank into things, and he wasn't willing to do that yet. So far, his gut was telling him that this was Steve, and Tony knew what it was like to need time to make decisions. Just because he never seemed to get it didn't meant that he didn't understand the desire, and he didn't think he would forgive himself if this was Steve and he took away that freedom.
Of course, if this was Steve, then who the hell had they buried in the ice?
The question was neither here nor there, although he made a mental note to review the security footage from the hospital and morgue for any irregularities. When he had a moment, which likely wouldn't be for a few days. Taking a deep breath, and making an effort to keep his voice neutral, Tony addressed this more immediate issue. "You're awake."
Steve looked up from his contemplation of the coffee table. "Thank you for getting rid of Carol. I'm..." He sighed. "I'm not ready to deal with anyone else knowing. Not yet."
Tony frowned, and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against one of the couches. "Better to let your friends think that you're dead?" He had honestly intended to try to ignore the bitterness that burned in the back of his throat, but intentions only got you so far. Steve had a way of making him forget himself. "Let's be clear, I didn't let her find out because I'm not sure if you are Captain America."
"I'm not Captain America. I'm Steve Rogers. Someone else is Captain America." Steve's voice was low, but there was a familiar edge to it, and he'd started to stick his chin out in that stubborn glare he'd been so fond of.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Steve Rogers is Captain America. They're the same person; you are the same person." Yes, there had been times when Steve had chosen to abandon the cowl, but at the same time - he'd still been him. Steve embodied the qualities of Captain America, far more than the uniform ever could.
Steve flinched, a deep-seated pain blossoming in the depths of his eyes. He stood, and turned to stare out the windows, the lines of his body screaming a betrayal that Tony just didn't understand. "I can't believe you're dragging Carol into your mess. Haven't you done enough to her?"
Tony blinked, and while he knew what Steve was doing, that didn't make the blow any higher. "Carol is not being 'dragged' into anything. I haven't done anything to her - unless you're referring to her participation in registration, which was her own choice."
"Under the threat of imprisonment!" Steve hissed.
"No one threatened her with anything-" Tony's voice started to rise, and he cut himself off. He pushed away from the couch and crossed the distance between them, grabbing Steve firmly by the arm. "We are not fighting out here. I will not have Maria walking in on this again."
"Fine." Steve snapped, letting Tony drag him down the hall and into his bedroom.
Tony shut the door behind them, glaring at Steve. "You never could just listen, could you? Why couldn't you have listened for five goddamn minutes, Steve!" That hadn't been what he'd intended to say, but once he started, it was like watching someone else. He was an adult, the director of SHIELD, he could deal with this. Had dealt with this. Except now his control had apparently snapped, because he knew Steve wouldn't listen right now, and he was saying this anyway. "Carol knew what was going on. Carol listened to me. Someone had to be pro-registration to keep things from getting worse. They could have been so much worse."
"Tony --"
"But you wouldn't listen. All you could see was that you thought I'd sold out. " Tony couldn't stop the words, wasn't even sure he wanted to, anymore. He'd never voiced this, never aired the anger and the betrayal outside of his own mind, and there was something intoxicating about it. About giving way to the anger, even if Steve had done exactly as Tony had expected. Because Steve hadn't surprised Tony when it mattered most, hadn't gone above and beyond the expectations. "I sold my goddamn soul to keep you and others safe, and -- "
Tony stopped abruptly when his back collided with the wall. He raised a hand in defense, but just as suddenly as he'd moved, he stopped, because he wasn't the only one pressed up against the wall. Steve was there, Steve was real, and he was kissing him. No figment, no imitation, could taste so good, push things just close enough to painful without bringing pain. No impostor could be so desperate.
After a moment in which he let himself act solely on instinct, Tony shifted gears and took control. If this was real, and it certainly felt like it was, then he was going to get everything that he could from it. He fisted a hand in Steve's baggy sweatshirt as he broke the kiss, scraping his teeth lightly along Steve's jawline as he made his way to that point of skin just behind Steve's ear that always drew forth the best sounds. He grinned against Steve's skin as his actions had the desired effect, Steve groaned deep in his throat and his hands clutched at Tony's hips, pressing their bodies together.
"Tony, I-" Steve pulled back for a moment, and his eyes were dark with need. Tony couldn't resist kissing him again, because whatever Steve had to say , it could wait.
He shoved up Steve's sweatshirt up, tracing patterns along his stomach as he mapped the once-familiar contours. Steve made a soft sound of approval, and Tony slowed his exploration, remembering dimly that he had no idea if or when he would do this again. As his fingers worked their way up Steve's chest, Tony brushed over a scar that hadn't been there before, an unexpected deviation in the smooth lines of muscle. Steve inhaled sharply as Tony's fingers traced the rough knot of tissue, and Tony realized what it was - why it hadn't healed cleanly like Steve's injuries normally did. Tony kept his hands steady, filing it away as one more piece of proof that this was Steve.
Steve made a guttural noise as Tony reached his collarbone, and shoved him back against the wall before pulling the sweatshirt off completely. He closed the distance between them, pressing up against Tony more firmly than before. "I missed you." The words were breathed against Tony's skin, and he couldn't suppressed the shiver that resulted.
Tony leaned his head back to give Steve better access, and wasn't disappointed when Steve's mouth skimmed over the curve of his throat, his teeth just this side of painful. "Steve." The word was less an order, and more of an unconscious invocation. Either way, it was the only thing Tony could make his mind spit out through the haze of arousal. He slid his fingers into the belt loops of Steve's jeans, the material soft and almost frayed.
As Steve pushed down his sweatpants, it occurred to Tony that if they didn't move to the bed soon - very soon - they weren't going to make it there at all. Never mind that this was probably a terrible idea for any number of reasons, not the least of which was his sanity. "Fuck." It just impossible to think with Steve's hand curled around his cock.
If the data streams had been distant and unimportant before, they became more so now. Tony's focus was completely on Steve, on getting Steve's jeans off so he could touch him. It turned out to be a surprisingly simple accomplishment. One push and they slid over Steve's hips and to the floor.
Steve pressed him back against the wall, and Tony spared a moment to think that there was something fitting about it happening like this - frantic and hurried against a wall. Their entire romantic relationship had been one of missteps and bad timing, so they'd learned to grab what they could.
Even those thoughts fell by the wayside as Steve kissed him again, rocking their hips together. It was rough and perfect, and then it wasn't. Tony tried to catch his breath, to complain, but then Steve was pushing him onto the bed. "Not like that." Steve sounded half gone already, and Tony was relieved that he wasn't the only one going out of his mind. In response, Tony kissed him again, and pulled Steve's weight onto him.
He wanted Steve to fuck him, but once he'd spread his legs and Steve moved against him, he simply couldn't string the words together to ask for it.
When he came - it happened too soon, because it wasn't supposed to end, even though all good things did in Tony's experience - Tony bit his bottom lip, to keep himself from saying something that either of them might regret. Like "I love you, Steve", never mind that it was true. Steve hadn't been comfortable hearing Tony say that before they'd been on opposing sides in a war; it was unlikely he'd be any more receptive now that the war was done.
For all his Super-human endurance, Steve had lasted barely a handful of thrusts longer than Tony, coming with a painfully choked gasp. When he had finished, he collapsed onto Tony, and pressed his face into Tony's neck.
Tony didn't complain at the weight, he found the almost-but-not-quite-painful sensation reassuring. While he never seemed to remember just how heavy Steve was in his dreams, he was more than willing to put up with temporarily restricted blood flow if it meant knowing Steve was there.
He ran his hand down Steve's back, contemplating whether it was worth asking Steve to move or if it would break whatever temporary truce they seemed to have stumbled into. All of the data streams that he'd been ignoring tugged at his attention. One of them was flagged, and he reluctantly pulled it up - he'd had a long chat with his new secretary about when to flag things, so if she'd marked it urgent, it probably was. He really should get around to learning her name; she seemed mostly competent - and if Pepper had hired her, she had to be good for something - but naming her would make Pepper's absence real, and he wasn't sure he could deal with that right now. He scrolled through the reminder, which highlighted his meeting with the board discussing the Energy Technologies division in-
"Oh fuck." Tony cursed, pushing at Steve as he tried to sit up. "I have a board meeting in five minutes!"
Steve moved off immediately, and had the decency to look guilty. "I'm sorry?"
Tony waved him off, running into the bathroom as he used Extremis to call his very lovely secretary, who would be getting a all the flowers she could ever want if she could tell the board he was stuck in traffic, dead, anything that would buy him an extra few minutes.
He speed showered and dressed, glad tht the board meeting was only a few floors down - even if that meant they probably wouldn't buy the stuck in traffic excuse. Although he could have gone out driving that morning...
"Tony, should I... stay here?" Steve asked. He was still sitting on the bed when Tony reappeared from the bathroom, looking more than a little uncertain.
Tony blinked, and stared at Steve trying to remember why Steve wouldn't be comfortable in their bed, and- he rubbed a hand over his face. Okay, maybe he'd been late for meetings a bit too much because of Steve, if he was already running on auto-pilot. "Stay in the penthouse. Jarvis knows about you. Just... just stay in the penthouse. I'll be back later today."
He didn't wait for Steve's reply before he was out the door.
* * *
Steve had retreated to the gym as soon as he was able to bring himself to leave Tony's bedroom. He hadn't exactly been avoiding Jarvis, but... He wasn't quite ready to deal with anyone that wasn’t Tony yet, either.
And he hadn't exactly dealt with Tony.
Walking into the penthouse's workout facilities had been like coming home again. It felt like forever since he'd had a good workout, and his muscles itched from the inactivity and disuse of the last month. His body had been designed for field work, and he'd never done well when the he'd been forced to remain still for too long.
He'd been in the gym for half an hour, and had just worked up a good sweat when he doors slid open and the girl - Maria - walked in. She stopped just inside the threshold, staring at Steve like he was a intruder in her private space. After a moment, she closed her eyes, and when she reopened them her expression had returned to its customary blankness.
Steve tried to think of a way to break the ice that wouldn't sound too awkward. Hi? I won't hurt you? Come here often?
She regarded him a moment longer before she seemed to consciously put him out of her mind, turning her back to him as she approached the balance beam. Steve watched as she chalked up her hands, patting down the beam as well before she mounted the apparatus.
As he watched, he couldn't help thinking that her movements were unusually confident for her age, especially considering that she was balancing on a mere four inches worth of beam, and Steve wondered again how she came to be living with Tony. She pulled up into a handstand, and then walked over to a standing position again, strolling along the beam with a look of deep concentration on her face. As a result, he was doubly startled when she spoke.
"Are you Steve Rogers?"
"I am," Steve told her, wondering at the question. If she knew he'd been Captain America, surely she knew his 'real name.'
She nodded thoughtfully, and without further warning performed two back layouts. After she'd steadied herself, she spoke again. "Are you Captain America?"
Steve opened his mouth, then closed it. He had been Captain America, but he wasn't now. Surely she knew that - she lived with the Director of SHIELD, for goodness' sake. She must have seen Bucky dressed in the uniform and- it belatedly occurred to Steve that Tony wasn't likely to have Bucky over for social calls. And, come to think of it, Maria's presence hadn't exactly been advertised, either. Maria stood, balanced on one leg as she waited for his answer. "I was."
She frowned, and did an effortless flip, landing solidly on the beam. Steve's eyes went wide, because there was precocious and talented, and then there was highly trained. Someone had been training her for a long time, and he was reasonably sure that someone hadn't been Tony. The thought brought Bucky to mind, his eyes both too young and far too old for his teenaged body; Steve had ignored the warning signs then, the questions that he didn't want to ask, but he could ask now. He resolved to talk to Tony about her, find out what was really going on.
She ended her routine with a double twist, sticking the landing with practiced ease before turning to face Steve. She cocked her head to the side, studying him like he was some new and oddly-frustrating puzzle. He'd seen Tony look at his armor like that before. "So, why aren't you dead?"
That was a question Steve didn't want to touch, especially with a child. It would be one thing if he could explain it to his own satisfaction, but he couldn't. Searching desperately for a way to change the topic, he went with the first thing that came to mind. "Why don't you have a spotter?"
Her face paled alarmingly. "Tony hasn't given me one. I didn't know I was required to have one, I-" the words came out in a hurried jumble, anxiety clear in both her expression and her voice.
Steve crossed the space between them, and started to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but she flinched badly. She was scared, he realized. He'd seen the reaction in abused children before, although it had been a while. He backed away, giving her enough space to hopefully feel safe, and tried to explain things so that she understood. "It probably didn't occur to Tony that you needed one. Gymnastics has never been his forte. You're not in trouble, Maria. I was just curious."
Maria visibly relaxed, then seemed to catch herself and tensed to that odd neutral stance. She seemed to debate something for a moment, then spoke. "Captain America?" she asked hesitantly. "Why aren't you dead? None of the others ever came back."
He blinked, because he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, and because he didn't know how to answer a question when he had so little information. He resolved to have a long talk with Tony the next time he saw him, because he'd been around powered children before - and he couldn't imagine that Tony had taken Maria if she wasn't powered - and they both knew that the kids were often lucky to make it to adulthood sane, never mind healthy. You had to handle them carefully. What you said, how you acted, anything could set them off or bring up things better left buried. After a moment of consideration, Steve crouched down beside her. "I'm not Captain America anymore, but if you'd like, you can call me Steve. And if I knew why I wasn't dead, I would tell you."
She nodded, apparently satisfied for the moment. "Are you friends with Tony like Carol and Jan?"
"Something like that," Steve told her, hoping she wouldn't decide that meant that she should tell Carol and Jan about him, but hopefully Tony would deal with that later. There were a lot of things which would be dealt with later. "Would you like me to be your spotter, Maria?"
Maria frowned, and took a long moment to consider her answer before she nodded. "Are you a trainer?"
Steve wasn't sure he wanted to touch that one, because he didn't know what her definition of a trainer was. "I've never been a formal trainer, but I do know a thing or two. Do you have a floor exercise routine?"
* * *
Tony was sure this was hell.
His second meeting of the day was a video conference, one that he - and the company - couldn't afford to cut out on. But trying to concentrate on what his Chinese Affairs Liaison was saying about the new materials they'd been contracted to provide for the Bird's Nest while watching Maria and Steve talking was pure hell. He couldn't hear them - he'd already made a mental note to upgrade all of the surveillance systems in the penthouse with sound - but that just made it worse.
He'd been ten minutes into the conference when he realized that Steve and Maria were alone in the penthouse. Technically Jarvis was there as well, which meant that Maria should be safe, and Steve would never hurt a child - and if he'd been wrong about it being Steve, well, Tony could be back in the penthouse in seconds, if necessary. Even if he had blast his way through the floors of his own building to get to her.
Tony had just barely repressed a sigh of relief when he'd found the two, although the relief had been short lived. They were in the gym. Alone. Talking.
He'd didn't want to think what Steve might be asking Maria, or even what Maria might be asking Steve. There were just too many proverbial cans of worms lying in wait, and nothing Tony could do about it. So, while he chatted amiably with the Chinese division about possibly constructing a new skyscraper in downtown Beijing, he watched Steve and Maria with the kind of morbid fascination usually reserved for accidents on the Taconic that involved at least six cars.
Had he been given a choice, Tony would have rather had lunch with Dr. Doom.
~ Next Part~
Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Authors:
kijikun & mirielRating: NC-17
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Warnings: Spoilers through "Fallen Son", references to an institutionalized childhood
Summary: Of course, if this was Steve, then who the hell had they buried in the ice?
Despite the almost-familiar surroundings of the penthouse guest room, Steve hadn't slept well. He'd thought just being back in the penthouse would help, but still the nightmares came. Each time he woke, his heart pounding as if he'd just sprinted White Plains to down town, his thoughts refused to settle. It wasn't the content of the nightmares that stayed with him, it was everything else. All of the uncertainties he found himself in the midst of - those he'd thought Tony would make right.
When the clock reached five, he'd given up and headed down the hall to the guest bathroom, wishing not for the first time that he was in the room he'd once called his own. There was something to be said for an en suite.
Whatever inconvenience there may have been, he was nothing but grateful when he had stepped under the spray of the shower. The water had been hot - not luke-warm, edging toward cold because the water heater was twenty-five years old and in need of replacing - and the water pressure itself had been marvelously strong. Best of all, there had been no one waiting impatiently for their turn - no reason not to lean against the tile wall and just allow the heat to soak into his bones.
Looking at himself in the mirror, it was no wonder that Tony hadn't believed him at first sight. Hell, if he didn't have the memories so clearly embedded in his mind, Steve might well not have believed that he was who he thought he was. The man who stared out at him from the mirror looked nothing the the Captain America that Steve remembered, not from when he was twenty or even when he was thirty. If even he could barely find the likeness, how could he have expected Tony to? And if he really wasn't Captain America anymore, if Bucky had taken on the mantle and Steve should just leave well enough alone, then that left a blank space that stretched over a large swath of the canvas that was his life.
Steve grimaced at the thought of changing back into his old clothing, but it wasn't as if he had another option - even at his lightest, he outweighed Tony by enough that sharing his former-lover's clothes was an unrealistic thought, and after everything that had happened, Steve didn't think he should count on Tony having kept any of the clothes he used to keep in the penthouse.
Basics dealt with, Steve decided to move on to breakfast, and a possible revisiting of the conversation the night before. He didn't particularly want to have it again - if he was honest, that was part of why he was slinking down the hallway before six in the morning - but there were too many unanswered questions. On both sides. There was also the possibility that a few hours of sleep would help them both to take a step back; Steve could admit that he'd certainly needed it, and Tony had looked ready to fall over, even if he had protested having more things left to do. Steve was pulled out of his contemplation by the sound of voices. Familiar voices, even - one voice was unmistakably Tony's, and the other belonged to Ms. Marvel - Carol. Steve paused in the hallway, ashamed to be hiding like a child, but unwilling to deal with yet another face from his past at this point. Especially when he didn't know what he was going to be doing for his future. While the location may have induced a small degree of guilt, it also afforded a rather good listening post.
"...Beijing go, Tony?" Carol was asking. "Did Maria have any problems?"
"Things went better than expected. Reed was there with Franklin. The kids seem to have become fast friends, although I have no idea what precipitated it. Not that I'm complaining. I was worried that- " Tony's voice dropped in volume, low enough that even Steve couldn't make out more than Maria's name and something about Reed's wife.
The discussion continued at the lower tone, and after several minutes had elapsed, Steve realized that maybe this was something he shouldn't intrude upon. Carol and Tony had always been close... He shook his head hard, attempting to quash the unwelcome thought. There were things he simply wasn't going to think about, this early in the morning. Not before he'd talked to Tony.
"Is she awake yet? I have a present for her," Carol's voice was louder, as if she'd moved closer to the doorway. Steve privately wondered why Carol would think that any child, especially one as young as the girl he'd seen last night, would be up at this time. Yes, he'd heard the horror stories from Sue about Franklin's "morning phase", but even he'd never been up before six. At least, Steve was relatively certain it had been six; he'd heard more about the situation from Reed, and, well... Reed had a way of losing track of time, so it was possible that Franklin had merely inherited yet another peculiar characteristic from his father.
"No," Tony's voice grew louder as well, and Steve could picture him casually blocking Carol's path. "She stayed up watching Raiders of the Lost Ark with me last night. She's probably still asleep."
"Tony, she's nine! Isn't that a bit young for a movie like that? Shouldn't she be watching things like...Sesame Street?" Carol's voice carried a heavy measure of reproach, though Steve wasn't sure why. Cassie Lang had watched the movie back when they'd still been in the mansion; she couldn't have been much older than nine when she'd first seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, and her father had never voiced concerns about it.
"Yes, Carol, she's nine, not four. I know there are concerns, but sometimes it's better to get these things out in the open, so they can be dealt with. Despite all of your concern, she seemed to enjoy the movie." Tony sighed, and Steve could imagine him rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Now, I hate to kick you out, but I have at least three meetings today that I have to be present for in body as well as mind. And you, unless I'm mistaken, have a group of Initiative trainees to inspire."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going, I'm going. I'll give them my famous 'only you can prevent forest fires' speech. They seem to like that one." Carol laughed, the sound warm and low, and Steve wondered how long it had been since any of those who'd followed him into the Civil War had laughed so freely. "Don't make that face at me, you know the kids respond better to a bit of humor. I'll leave you to your meetings. You'll give Maria her present when she wakes up, right?"
"If I'm not here to do it, Jarvis will."
"Not the point, Tony. And have you called Charles yet?"
"Goodbye, Carol."
The voices moved away, but Steve remained still for a long moment before walking into the living room. Part of him, a big part, hoped that Tony would return quickly - that they could talk without an audience. Steve wasn't sure he was up to dealing with Jarvis, had no idea if Tony had already informed him of Steve's return from the dead. Steve wasn't really up to dealing with anyone, which was why he'd come to Tony in the first place. No matter how things were resolved, it was going to be awkward. Deciding that he hadn't had enough sleep to actively go looking for trouble, Steve took the sensible action and settled into his favorite chair to wait.
When he returned from politely shoving Carol out the door, Tony wasn't surprised to see Steve sitting in the living room. One of the perks, and occasional downsides, to Extremis was access to any camera he wanted. So he'd known that Steve would be sitting there, shoulders slumped in a way that still set off alarm bells in the back of Tony's mind that just screamed wrong. Just as he'd known that Steve had been standing in the hallway. Though he wasn't completely sure just how long Steve had been standing there, or how much he'd heard; Tony really hoped it had only been a few moments.
Contrary to what he'd told Carol, Maria wasn't actually asleep. She'd been awake for almost an hour, though she'd been content to read in her room quietly, and for once Tony was glad for her instinctive need to follow orders. The excuse had been more to avoid an accidental encounter with Steve than anything else.
He still wasn't certain that the man sitting in his living room really was Steve - he would only be completely certain after running some basic, and not so basic, lab tests. But lab tests meant bringing Hank into things, and he wasn't willing to do that yet. So far, his gut was telling him that this was Steve, and Tony knew what it was like to need time to make decisions. Just because he never seemed to get it didn't meant that he didn't understand the desire, and he didn't think he would forgive himself if this was Steve and he took away that freedom.
Of course, if this was Steve, then who the hell had they buried in the ice?
The question was neither here nor there, although he made a mental note to review the security footage from the hospital and morgue for any irregularities. When he had a moment, which likely wouldn't be for a few days. Taking a deep breath, and making an effort to keep his voice neutral, Tony addressed this more immediate issue. "You're awake."
Steve looked up from his contemplation of the coffee table. "Thank you for getting rid of Carol. I'm..." He sighed. "I'm not ready to deal with anyone else knowing. Not yet."
Tony frowned, and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against one of the couches. "Better to let your friends think that you're dead?" He had honestly intended to try to ignore the bitterness that burned in the back of his throat, but intentions only got you so far. Steve had a way of making him forget himself. "Let's be clear, I didn't let her find out because I'm not sure if you are Captain America."
"I'm not Captain America. I'm Steve Rogers. Someone else is Captain America." Steve's voice was low, but there was a familiar edge to it, and he'd started to stick his chin out in that stubborn glare he'd been so fond of.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Steve Rogers is Captain America. They're the same person; you are the same person." Yes, there had been times when Steve had chosen to abandon the cowl, but at the same time - he'd still been him. Steve embodied the qualities of Captain America, far more than the uniform ever could.
Steve flinched, a deep-seated pain blossoming in the depths of his eyes. He stood, and turned to stare out the windows, the lines of his body screaming a betrayal that Tony just didn't understand. "I can't believe you're dragging Carol into your mess. Haven't you done enough to her?"
Tony blinked, and while he knew what Steve was doing, that didn't make the blow any higher. "Carol is not being 'dragged' into anything. I haven't done anything to her - unless you're referring to her participation in registration, which was her own choice."
"Under the threat of imprisonment!" Steve hissed.
"No one threatened her with anything-" Tony's voice started to rise, and he cut himself off. He pushed away from the couch and crossed the distance between them, grabbing Steve firmly by the arm. "We are not fighting out here. I will not have Maria walking in on this again."
"Fine." Steve snapped, letting Tony drag him down the hall and into his bedroom.
Tony shut the door behind them, glaring at Steve. "You never could just listen, could you? Why couldn't you have listened for five goddamn minutes, Steve!" That hadn't been what he'd intended to say, but once he started, it was like watching someone else. He was an adult, the director of SHIELD, he could deal with this. Had dealt with this. Except now his control had apparently snapped, because he knew Steve wouldn't listen right now, and he was saying this anyway. "Carol knew what was going on. Carol listened to me. Someone had to be pro-registration to keep things from getting worse. They could have been so much worse."
"Tony --"
"But you wouldn't listen. All you could see was that you thought I'd sold out. " Tony couldn't stop the words, wasn't even sure he wanted to, anymore. He'd never voiced this, never aired the anger and the betrayal outside of his own mind, and there was something intoxicating about it. About giving way to the anger, even if Steve had done exactly as Tony had expected. Because Steve hadn't surprised Tony when it mattered most, hadn't gone above and beyond the expectations. "I sold my goddamn soul to keep you and others safe, and -- "
Tony stopped abruptly when his back collided with the wall. He raised a hand in defense, but just as suddenly as he'd moved, he stopped, because he wasn't the only one pressed up against the wall. Steve was there, Steve was real, and he was kissing him. No figment, no imitation, could taste so good, push things just close enough to painful without bringing pain. No impostor could be so desperate.
After a moment in which he let himself act solely on instinct, Tony shifted gears and took control. If this was real, and it certainly felt like it was, then he was going to get everything that he could from it. He fisted a hand in Steve's baggy sweatshirt as he broke the kiss, scraping his teeth lightly along Steve's jawline as he made his way to that point of skin just behind Steve's ear that always drew forth the best sounds. He grinned against Steve's skin as his actions had the desired effect, Steve groaned deep in his throat and his hands clutched at Tony's hips, pressing their bodies together.
"Tony, I-" Steve pulled back for a moment, and his eyes were dark with need. Tony couldn't resist kissing him again, because whatever Steve had to say , it could wait.
He shoved up Steve's sweatshirt up, tracing patterns along his stomach as he mapped the once-familiar contours. Steve made a soft sound of approval, and Tony slowed his exploration, remembering dimly that he had no idea if or when he would do this again. As his fingers worked their way up Steve's chest, Tony brushed over a scar that hadn't been there before, an unexpected deviation in the smooth lines of muscle. Steve inhaled sharply as Tony's fingers traced the rough knot of tissue, and Tony realized what it was - why it hadn't healed cleanly like Steve's injuries normally did. Tony kept his hands steady, filing it away as one more piece of proof that this was Steve.
Steve made a guttural noise as Tony reached his collarbone, and shoved him back against the wall before pulling the sweatshirt off completely. He closed the distance between them, pressing up against Tony more firmly than before. "I missed you." The words were breathed against Tony's skin, and he couldn't suppressed the shiver that resulted.
Tony leaned his head back to give Steve better access, and wasn't disappointed when Steve's mouth skimmed over the curve of his throat, his teeth just this side of painful. "Steve." The word was less an order, and more of an unconscious invocation. Either way, it was the only thing Tony could make his mind spit out through the haze of arousal. He slid his fingers into the belt loops of Steve's jeans, the material soft and almost frayed.
As Steve pushed down his sweatpants, it occurred to Tony that if they didn't move to the bed soon - very soon - they weren't going to make it there at all. Never mind that this was probably a terrible idea for any number of reasons, not the least of which was his sanity. "Fuck." It just impossible to think with Steve's hand curled around his cock.
If the data streams had been distant and unimportant before, they became more so now. Tony's focus was completely on Steve, on getting Steve's jeans off so he could touch him. It turned out to be a surprisingly simple accomplishment. One push and they slid over Steve's hips and to the floor.
Steve pressed him back against the wall, and Tony spared a moment to think that there was something fitting about it happening like this - frantic and hurried against a wall. Their entire romantic relationship had been one of missteps and bad timing, so they'd learned to grab what they could.
Even those thoughts fell by the wayside as Steve kissed him again, rocking their hips together. It was rough and perfect, and then it wasn't. Tony tried to catch his breath, to complain, but then Steve was pushing him onto the bed. "Not like that." Steve sounded half gone already, and Tony was relieved that he wasn't the only one going out of his mind. In response, Tony kissed him again, and pulled Steve's weight onto him.
He wanted Steve to fuck him, but once he'd spread his legs and Steve moved against him, he simply couldn't string the words together to ask for it.
When he came - it happened too soon, because it wasn't supposed to end, even though all good things did in Tony's experience - Tony bit his bottom lip, to keep himself from saying something that either of them might regret. Like "I love you, Steve", never mind that it was true. Steve hadn't been comfortable hearing Tony say that before they'd been on opposing sides in a war; it was unlikely he'd be any more receptive now that the war was done.
For all his Super-human endurance, Steve had lasted barely a handful of thrusts longer than Tony, coming with a painfully choked gasp. When he had finished, he collapsed onto Tony, and pressed his face into Tony's neck.
Tony didn't complain at the weight, he found the almost-but-not-quite-painful sensation reassuring. While he never seemed to remember just how heavy Steve was in his dreams, he was more than willing to put up with temporarily restricted blood flow if it meant knowing Steve was there.
He ran his hand down Steve's back, contemplating whether it was worth asking Steve to move or if it would break whatever temporary truce they seemed to have stumbled into. All of the data streams that he'd been ignoring tugged at his attention. One of them was flagged, and he reluctantly pulled it up - he'd had a long chat with his new secretary about when to flag things, so if she'd marked it urgent, it probably was. He really should get around to learning her name; she seemed mostly competent - and if Pepper had hired her, she had to be good for something - but naming her would make Pepper's absence real, and he wasn't sure he could deal with that right now. He scrolled through the reminder, which highlighted his meeting with the board discussing the Energy Technologies division in-
"Oh fuck." Tony cursed, pushing at Steve as he tried to sit up. "I have a board meeting in five minutes!"
Steve moved off immediately, and had the decency to look guilty. "I'm sorry?"
Tony waved him off, running into the bathroom as he used Extremis to call his very lovely secretary, who would be getting a all the flowers she could ever want if she could tell the board he was stuck in traffic, dead, anything that would buy him an extra few minutes.
He speed showered and dressed, glad tht the board meeting was only a few floors down - even if that meant they probably wouldn't buy the stuck in traffic excuse. Although he could have gone out driving that morning...
"Tony, should I... stay here?" Steve asked. He was still sitting on the bed when Tony reappeared from the bathroom, looking more than a little uncertain.
Tony blinked, and stared at Steve trying to remember why Steve wouldn't be comfortable in their bed, and- he rubbed a hand over his face. Okay, maybe he'd been late for meetings a bit too much because of Steve, if he was already running on auto-pilot. "Stay in the penthouse. Jarvis knows about you. Just... just stay in the penthouse. I'll be back later today."
He didn't wait for Steve's reply before he was out the door.
Steve had retreated to the gym as soon as he was able to bring himself to leave Tony's bedroom. He hadn't exactly been avoiding Jarvis, but... He wasn't quite ready to deal with anyone that wasn’t Tony yet, either.
And he hadn't exactly dealt with Tony.
Walking into the penthouse's workout facilities had been like coming home again. It felt like forever since he'd had a good workout, and his muscles itched from the inactivity and disuse of the last month. His body had been designed for field work, and he'd never done well when the he'd been forced to remain still for too long.
He'd been in the gym for half an hour, and had just worked up a good sweat when he doors slid open and the girl - Maria - walked in. She stopped just inside the threshold, staring at Steve like he was a intruder in her private space. After a moment, she closed her eyes, and when she reopened them her expression had returned to its customary blankness.
Steve tried to think of a way to break the ice that wouldn't sound too awkward. Hi? I won't hurt you? Come here often?
She regarded him a moment longer before she seemed to consciously put him out of her mind, turning her back to him as she approached the balance beam. Steve watched as she chalked up her hands, patting down the beam as well before she mounted the apparatus.
As he watched, he couldn't help thinking that her movements were unusually confident for her age, especially considering that she was balancing on a mere four inches worth of beam, and Steve wondered again how she came to be living with Tony. She pulled up into a handstand, and then walked over to a standing position again, strolling along the beam with a look of deep concentration on her face. As a result, he was doubly startled when she spoke.
"Are you Steve Rogers?"
"I am," Steve told her, wondering at the question. If she knew he'd been Captain America, surely she knew his 'real name.'
She nodded thoughtfully, and without further warning performed two back layouts. After she'd steadied herself, she spoke again. "Are you Captain America?"
Steve opened his mouth, then closed it. He had been Captain America, but he wasn't now. Surely she knew that - she lived with the Director of SHIELD, for goodness' sake. She must have seen Bucky dressed in the uniform and- it belatedly occurred to Steve that Tony wasn't likely to have Bucky over for social calls. And, come to think of it, Maria's presence hadn't exactly been advertised, either. Maria stood, balanced on one leg as she waited for his answer. "I was."
She frowned, and did an effortless flip, landing solidly on the beam. Steve's eyes went wide, because there was precocious and talented, and then there was highly trained. Someone had been training her for a long time, and he was reasonably sure that someone hadn't been Tony. The thought brought Bucky to mind, his eyes both too young and far too old for his teenaged body; Steve had ignored the warning signs then, the questions that he didn't want to ask, but he could ask now. He resolved to talk to Tony about her, find out what was really going on.
She ended her routine with a double twist, sticking the landing with practiced ease before turning to face Steve. She cocked her head to the side, studying him like he was some new and oddly-frustrating puzzle. He'd seen Tony look at his armor like that before. "So, why aren't you dead?"
That was a question Steve didn't want to touch, especially with a child. It would be one thing if he could explain it to his own satisfaction, but he couldn't. Searching desperately for a way to change the topic, he went with the first thing that came to mind. "Why don't you have a spotter?"
Her face paled alarmingly. "Tony hasn't given me one. I didn't know I was required to have one, I-" the words came out in a hurried jumble, anxiety clear in both her expression and her voice.
Steve crossed the space between them, and started to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but she flinched badly. She was scared, he realized. He'd seen the reaction in abused children before, although it had been a while. He backed away, giving her enough space to hopefully feel safe, and tried to explain things so that she understood. "It probably didn't occur to Tony that you needed one. Gymnastics has never been his forte. You're not in trouble, Maria. I was just curious."
Maria visibly relaxed, then seemed to catch herself and tensed to that odd neutral stance. She seemed to debate something for a moment, then spoke. "Captain America?" she asked hesitantly. "Why aren't you dead? None of the others ever came back."
He blinked, because he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, and because he didn't know how to answer a question when he had so little information. He resolved to have a long talk with Tony the next time he saw him, because he'd been around powered children before - and he couldn't imagine that Tony had taken Maria if she wasn't powered - and they both knew that the kids were often lucky to make it to adulthood sane, never mind healthy. You had to handle them carefully. What you said, how you acted, anything could set them off or bring up things better left buried. After a moment of consideration, Steve crouched down beside her. "I'm not Captain America anymore, but if you'd like, you can call me Steve. And if I knew why I wasn't dead, I would tell you."
She nodded, apparently satisfied for the moment. "Are you friends with Tony like Carol and Jan?"
"Something like that," Steve told her, hoping she wouldn't decide that meant that she should tell Carol and Jan about him, but hopefully Tony would deal with that later. There were a lot of things which would be dealt with later. "Would you like me to be your spotter, Maria?"
Maria frowned, and took a long moment to consider her answer before she nodded. "Are you a trainer?"
Steve wasn't sure he wanted to touch that one, because he didn't know what her definition of a trainer was. "I've never been a formal trainer, but I do know a thing or two. Do you have a floor exercise routine?"
Tony was sure this was hell.
His second meeting of the day was a video conference, one that he - and the company - couldn't afford to cut out on. But trying to concentrate on what his Chinese Affairs Liaison was saying about the new materials they'd been contracted to provide for the Bird's Nest while watching Maria and Steve talking was pure hell. He couldn't hear them - he'd already made a mental note to upgrade all of the surveillance systems in the penthouse with sound - but that just made it worse.
He'd been ten minutes into the conference when he realized that Steve and Maria were alone in the penthouse. Technically Jarvis was there as well, which meant that Maria should be safe, and Steve would never hurt a child - and if he'd been wrong about it being Steve, well, Tony could be back in the penthouse in seconds, if necessary. Even if he had blast his way through the floors of his own building to get to her.
Tony had just barely repressed a sigh of relief when he'd found the two, although the relief had been short lived. They were in the gym. Alone. Talking.
He'd didn't want to think what Steve might be asking Maria, or even what Maria might be asking Steve. There were just too many proverbial cans of worms lying in wait, and nothing Tony could do about it. So, while he chatted amiably with the Chinese division about possibly constructing a new skyscraper in downtown Beijing, he watched Steve and Maria with the kind of morbid fascination usually reserved for accidents on the Taconic that involved at least six cars.
Had he been given a choice, Tony would have rather had lunch with Dr. Doom.
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Of course I like Tony (plus Steve), but Maria is amazing. It's a perfect new character (isn't she, right?) with a good characterization!
Brave :)
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LOL! Realistic OCs are kind of a specialty of mine, so it's always nice to hear that I'm doing something right ^_^