Fic: Checkmarks

[empty-splendor.livejournal.com]

Title: Checkmarks: version 1 and 2
Author: empty_splendor
Word count: 3345
Verse: 616
Rating: R
Characters: Steve, Tony, Reed Richards, New Avengers
Warnings: Spoilers for WORLD'S MOST WANTED, CAPTAIN AMERICA: REBORN, CIVIL WAR, RED ZONE, EXECUTE PROGRAM. Contains violence, reference to character death, version two involves character death.
Summary: While hopping through time, Time has some plans for moments Steve revisits.
A/N: I wrote two versions because I couldn't decide which ending I liked better, and neither could my beta team. So I decided to post both. The second version end also comes from a prompt from pandanoai. Thank you to jazzypom and therobotmuse for their beta work and moral support.



"They say time changes things but you actually have to change them yourself." - Andy Warhol



...the hell?

Steve Rogers recognized this place instantly. Sprawled on the floor, defeated by the Red Skull's poison gas. He was certain this was the end.

Until Tony got there...

He hadn't been able to watch the first time, because he had been unconscious. Now, with a separated awareness, he watched himself exist in time -- a part of the memory but a helpless passenger in his own skin -- and he saw things more clearly. Tony's cradling his unconscious form as the gas fills the room like a blanket. Until Tony spoke, Steve didn't know if he could swallow , or feel for that matter. He hadn't heard Tony Stark's voice since..

You're a sore loser, Captain America.

I know I can't do anything. I know that Tony saves my life today at the risk of his own... not the first time... not the last time.

"He's not breathing.... dammit... it's contagious. I can't... what... do I..."

A very brief moment of hesitation before Tony's armor hissed as he removed the helmet.

Put your helmet back on! You--

"Sorry, Tony... but Captain America's more important than you... let's hope I can keep him alive long enough--for Panther to get him out."

Tony don't! Dammit, Stark. Where did you get the idea that--

Easy. Tony survives this. I know that. I know he's okay in the end but... what if he had died?

I never would have been able to live with...

Tony bent over Steve's motionless body, performing text book mouth to mouth in an attempt to revive him. The scene started to fade away as he stood, Tony long since collapsed on the ground from inhaling the gas. The last thing he was aware of before the scene disappeared from him was that the roles had been reversed: he was cradling Tony.

I never said thank you...





Tony's limp body dropped as if from the invisible hand of a child discarding a toy with which she was long since bored, the armor hitting the pavement with a sickening clank. The Hulk Buster had let Steve go, and fallen over, but Steve was preoccupied with rushing to Tony's side.

I hate this day.

This day was torture.

Steve was thankful he remembered the deactivation code for Tony's armor, and that the upgrade hadn't caused him to change the code again, as he had done multiple times in the past. He was relieved to watch it break off of Tony's body, leaving him lying there motionless amongst the rubble and debris. He swallowed back a lump in his throat, skidding to a stop beside Tony and dropping down beside him.

"C'mon, Tony..." He reached out and felt for a pulse. Nothing

I was so angry at the time... how stupid he was to just... sacrifice himself like he wasn't important.

He was bent over Tony. He started with mouth to mouth and continued with chest compressions. It was getting him no where. Steve worked furiously to bring Tony back, only to be pulled away by SHIELD medics to continue the job he'd started. He'd paced watching them, one of the medics straddling Tony's middle while compressing and the other two moving him on a gurney to an ambulance.

It was later that I rationalized his decision. When the anger passed.

He did it to save my life. He hadn't thought twice about it, just acted.

He was always doing things like that and... I didn't understand why he felt his life was worth less than mine.

I knew I'd be lost without him.




They'd parted like the Red Sea for SHIELD agents, who passed through them as if they hadn't been there. That's exactly how this was happening, torn apart by a commanding force and leading them to fight each other. What had they become?

We couldn't go back after this.

Not after my move here... what I did here... sealed the fate of the rest of these people.

Tony Stark's team of pro-registration forces stood behind him, ready for battle the moment they were signaled. Steve's people were behind him just the same. Tony had Peter... Peter in his innocent trusting manner, manipulated to believe the things Tony--no. Tony hadn't actually done the things Steve accused him of. Peter had free will, he'd chosen a side of his own accord. And if he'd chosen Steve's side first, it would have been for no better reason--the kid idolized them both.

His hand was out stretched, clad in his armor as usual, but Steve should have noticed the difference then. Tony's mask was open. His face was visible.

If you'd been lying to me you'd never have let me see your face.

You'd have known that I'd see right through you.

"You've known me half of my adult life, Cap. You know I wouldn't do this unless I believed in it with all my heart. We don't want to fight you. Just give me the chance to tell you our plans for my twenty-first century overhaul."

Tony hadn't wanted to fight.

I knew that and I still took that time to strike a blow.

To betray him.

Steve took Tony's outstretched hand and they shook on the promise of talking.

"You've got five minutes."

"Five minutes is all I need..."

Peter was cheering in the background. It was too soon, as Tony noticed the scrambler on his armored hand. It worked quickly, sparking and making Tony defenseless so that Steve could strike the first blow with his shield. It wasn't a fair fight. It never had been. Steve had been planning that from the beginning.

The scene was flickering in and out on the fighting. It couldn't got fast enough because Steve didn't want to relive this moment. He didn't want to watch this moment again and be defenseless against it. It disappeared as the Thor clone killed Bill Foster.

Maybe if I'd let him speak...



The stadium. Steve in the bullpen waiting for Tony after Tony had hacked into an old channel. He wanted to meet and he wanted to talk. Steve wasn't sure at the time why he'd gone to hear Tony out, whatever he had to say.

I should have known they'd follow me.

I should have known they wouldn't let their... leader.. go out to meet the enemy without back up.

That's simple military strategy.

Tony arrived and stood on the pitchers mound, in a wrinkled business suit with his hair tousled and his mouth set. He looked angry, and there's something else there. Something Steve didn't notice the first time. Tony looked miserable. It was the most vulnerability he'd seen in Stark for weeks.

"What do you want, Stark?"

"Just one question."

"Why didn't you just ask me over the radio?"

"I want to see your eyes when you answer it."

In other words, he wanted to know if I was lying.

I'd never seen Tony so angry, so... lost. He'd been personally attacked but not just him... someone he cared about.

Someone not involved in our war. Happy Hogan didn't deserve that. Neither did May Parker...

It stung the first time Tony asked the question, like a knife wound. He'd deserved the question being asked, but the fact that it had come to this... that Tony would suspect him of doing something to his friends.

"Did you have anything to do with what happened to Happy Hogan?"

"You know I'd never--"

"Just answer the question."

"No."

Tony's face hadn't changed. He still bore a mask of anger. Now that he thought of it, it was Tony's only real emotion these days. Steve recalled how little of his feelings Tony seemed to show since he'd injected the Extremis, but at least he was starting to break the facade. Tony was cracking under the pressure, under the attack. Steve knew all too well that Tony would rather be the one in the coma in Hogan's place. The fact that he wasn't had clearly shaken Tony at the foundation like an earthquake.

"What about the others?"

"No one under my command had anything to do with it. If they did, I'd put a bow on him and hand deliver him to your penthouse."

"And Castle? What about...the Punisher?"

The memory began to fade like a flashback scene on a bad television show as the sound of Steve's rebelling forces arriving on the scene filled the air. He'd told them to stop but it was no good, and as they took him away and ganged up on Tony (now ready for battle in his armor), the scene disappeared completely. Steve still felt the surge of anger at the arrival of his troops. This had been an agreed parlay. No battle.

If I'd been able to stay... if they hadn't interrupted... Tony would have crumbled.

Maybe we would have talked.

Who knows what could have happened?



--where am I know? The mansion...

Tony stood in his armor, the faceplate up. He was pleading. Steve knew he'd come in in the middle of a conversation. Then he remembered. He listened to Tony speak, and he remembered exactly where they were and what was going on. This was near the end of the conflict... a private meeting on hollowed ground.

"I know terrible things have happened and I hate it. I hate that we're in this habit of mutually assured destruction. You escalate, I escalate. Tell me Steve, tell me what I can do! What can I do to make this stop!"

God. I never noticed before... Tony started to cry... I was so blinded by my hate and my anger. I was so ready to fight him and force him out, or make him see my way that he was genuinely asking for me to listen and to give his way a thought... and I didn't... again...

"Join me. Denounce the act and help me fight it."

"I can't."

Tony continued to speak but the world started to fade away again, the words slurring together and blurring into Steve's perception of the tangible and the intangible. He shook his head watching it fade. He tried to stay aware of the moment but all he saw was the hazy figure of Iron Man against the muddy back drop of the shambled mansion, the picture on the wall of the Avengers who had called the place home.





No!

Not Yet!

I'm not done with this... god I need to remember this!

No--god no.

Why is this happening? I can't do anything to change the past. I can't fix the mistakes I've made.

Is there a moral I'm supposed to learn from this?

Jumped again, without resolution but at least I don't have to watch myself fight Tony...





"Steve?"

It was cold at first as awareness nipped at the corners of his consciousness, first as hazy voices and blurry backlit figures. He blinked a few times before opening his eyes to see James standing over him. James, in the Captain America uniform. This couldn't be a memory because he'd never seen... this was... familiar but not. He could control his movements, turn his head, twitch his fingers, raise his arm. He was conscious and not just an observer of a past experience. He moved his hand to his head feeling dizzy and nauseous. He closed his eyes again, trying to orient himself to his surroundings. From what he'd seen it looked like a lab of some kind--too clean to be Stark, too organized to be Pym... Reed Richards. He opened his eyes again and looked at James, who was still a little blurry. Behind him, Natasha, the Black Widow. Spider-Woman Jessica Drew, Ms Marvel Carol Danvers... Clint? Bobbi? But they were dea--then again, no one seemed to stay dead.

"Steve, can you hear me?" James voice sounded panicked.

"I can... I can hear you?" He swallowed the hoarseness in his throat. "What happened... what's going on?"

James didn't respond right away but Steve heard the clinking of glass and the sound of water running from the tap. A hand appeared from above him, handing him a glass of water. Red gloved with black pip--

"Hey Peter..." Steve sat up slowly before taking the glass.

"How'd you know?" Peter was suspended from the ceiling, upside down as he removed his mask.

Steve looked around the room, recognizing it as his own Brooklyn abode then gave Peter a look, before swallowing down the water faster than he'd anticipated he would. On the other side of the room, the Cages - Luke and Jessica - and Logan. They were definitely in Richards' lab, he'd recognize it anywhere. Reed himself was no where to be seen for now, but he'd find the man later . He had other business to attend to at the moment.

"What happened?"

James' mood was hard to place. He looked nervous, maybe angry and a little relieved as he swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. "You've been... gone. For about a year. People thought you were dead but you...weren't-- not... quite."

Steve looked at him before giving a brief nod.

"I don't really know how to explain it. You'll have to ask the science guys." James sighed, looking away from Steve like a guilty child. "But things are different and the world is a mess. A lot has changed since you... whatever really happened. We'll prepare you for it but you should probably relax now..."

"I still want to know how you knew I'm me." Peter muttered.

Steve shook his head, running a hand down his face. He had one thing on his mind. The last thing he'd seen was Tony Stark. His battle with Stark. He needed to see him. That flashback, that time jump... whatever it was... it had been shown to him for a reason. He knew there was something, a hidden message in why he saw specifically the moments with Tony. These moments where Stark had shown him compassion and he'd ignored it. Maybe it was his turn to show the same to Tony, to apologize for his sins against his friend.

"Where's Stark? I need.. I need to see Stark."

Steve moved his hand away from his face and looked around when his question was met with silence thick like a fog hanging in the room. James was looking at the floor, as if he were being punished. Looking around the room, no one met his eyes. Peter rubbed the nape of his neck and came down from the ceiling, giving Carol a glance.

"Where is Tony...." Steve repeated, more urgent with a harsh tone.


Too late.

I'm always too late.

Too late to act, too late to change things, too late to make a difference.

This time it's no different.

I'm too late.

They made him put on clean surgical scrubs before letting him into the sterile room. The silence was heavy; it felt like a ten ton weight on his shoulders, interrupted intermittently by the blips of the monitor as it registered Tony's faltering heart beat. Low lighting of the room gave it the eerie ambiance of a wake, as if Tony's body was lying in state awaiting visitors to wish him well in the after life.

His steps were hesitant as he entered the room, feeling ridiculous with the mask over his nose and mouth, the booties on his feet. What could he possibly be carrying to give Tony? He'd just risen from the "dead". He approached the bed, noticing the way Tony appeared different--his head shaved down, leaving only a bit of dark return growth in its place, his face covered with a bit of stubble but no actual facial hair, no trace of his neatly trimmed vandyke. His skin pale lacking the luster of its olive hue, and he'd definitely lost weight. With all the changes to his appearance, he still remained identifiably Tony Stark.

Steve placed a hand on Tony's forehead, smoothing his thumb along the soft skin, noticing how fragile he seemed under the snaking vines of wires and tubing. Steve could tell which ones lead from the IV drip, the feeding tube, the heart monitor, the catheter and the tube shoved down Tony's throat and taped crudely to ensure Tony had air. This is what happened while he was away. He was too late to save Tony from this fate.

"What are these for?" Steve questioned.

Steve glanced away from Tony a moment to look at Reed. Mr. Fantastic was stretching about the room to look over the multiple read outs and monitors that were functioning with purpose of helping them understand Tony's condition. In truth, the room looked more like a miniature lab than it did a hospital room because of all the computers and systems that were in there.

Reed Richards followed Steve's gaze to the wiring that led from plugs in the back of Stark's head. He made a thoughtful humming sound before stretching over to look at Steve,

"Those are downloading the information from his Drive X. These were the instructions he left us in case this happened. It's really quite remarkable. The enchancile was designed to keep the subject alive at all costs."

Steve nodded and looked down at Tony again.

"Could I be alone with him?"

Reed hesitated before nodding, taking the hint surprisingly well as he tended to be absorbed in science rather than the affairs of his fellow man. When the room slid shut behind him, Steve took Tony's hand in his, sitting on the edge of the bed and careful not to pull or move any of the connections. The last thing he needed to do was screw something up.

Steve stared down at Tony's motionless form, his face lifeless, his eyes shrouded by his eyelids with his dark lashes striking fans against the pale skin of his cheeks. Steve swallowed, gripping the slack hand in his own, before pressing the smooth back of his hand to his lips. He closed his eyes and just held it for a moment as if he could open his eyes to see Tony smiling back at him. He knew there would be no such luck.

He was fine with the silence, as long as he could sit there. Tony deserved that much comfort, even if he'd never know.

Fin



"They say time changes things but you actually have to change them yourself." - Andy Warhol



...the hell?

Steve Rogers recognized this place instantly. Sprawled on the floor, defeated by the Red Skull's poison gas. He was certain this was the end.

Until Tony got there...

He hadn't been able to watch the first time, because he had been unconscious. Now, with a separated awareness, he watched himself exist in time -- a part of the memory but a helpless passenger in his own skin -- and he saw things more clearly. Tony's cradling his unconscious form as the gas fills the room like a blanket. Until Tony spoke, Steve didn't know if he could swallow , or feel for that matter. He hadn't heard Tony Stark's voice since..

You're a sore loser, Captain America.

I know I can't do anything. I know that Tony saves my life today at the risk of his own... not the first time... not the last time.

"He's not breathing.... dammit... it's contagious. I can't... what... do I..."

A very brief moment of hesitation before Tony's armor hissed as he removed the helmet.

Put your helmet back on! You--

"Sorry, Tony... but Captain America's more important than you... let's hope I can keep him alive long enough--for Panther to get him out."

Tony don't! Dammit, Stark. Where did you get the idea that--

Easy. Tony survives this. I know that. I know he's okay in the end but... what if he had died?

I never would have been able to live with...

Tony bent over Steve's motionless body, performing text book mouth to mouth in an attempt to revive him. The scene started to fade away as he stood, Tony long since collapsed on the ground from inhaling the gas. The last thing he was aware of before the scene disappeared from him was that the roles had been reversed: he was cradling Tony.

I never said thank you...





Tony's limp body dropped as if from the invisible hand of a child discarding a toy with which she was long since bored, the armor hitting the pavement with a sickening clank. The Hulk Buster had let Steve go, and fallen over, but Steve was preoccupied with rushing to Tony's side.

I hate this day.

This day was torture.

Steve was thankful he remembered the deactivation code for Tony's armor, and that the upgrade hadn't caused him to change the code again, as he had done multiple times in the past. He was relieved to watch it break off of Tony's body, leaving him lying there motionless amongst the rubble and debris. He swallowed back a lump in his throat, skidding to a stop beside Tony and dropping down beside him.

"C'mon, Tony..." He reached out and felt for a pulse. Nothing

I was so angry at the time... how stupid he was to just... sacrifice himself like he wasn't important.

He was bent over Tony. He started with mouth to mouth and continued with chest compressions. It was getting him no where. Steve worked furiously to bring Tony back, only to be pulled away by SHIELD medics to continue the job he'd started. He'd paced watching them, one of the medics straddling Tony's middle while compressing and the other two moving him on a gurney to an ambulance.

It was later that I rationalized his decision. When the anger passed.

He did it to save my life. He hadn't thought twice about it, just acted.

He was always doing things like that and... I didn't understand why he felt his life was worth less than mine.

I knew I'd be lost without him.




They'd parted like the Red Sea for SHIELD agents, who passed through them as if they hadn't been there. That's exactly how this was happening, torn apart by a commanding force and leading them to fight each other. What had they become?

We couldn't go back after this.

Not after my move here... what I did here... sealed the fate of the rest of these people.

Tony Stark's team of pro-registration forces stood behind him, ready for battle the moment they were signaled. Steve's people were behind him just the same. Tony had Peter... Peter in his innocent trusting manner, manipulated to believe the things Tony--no. Tony hadn't actually done the things Steve accused him of. Peter had free will, he'd chosen a side of his own accord. And if he'd chosen Steve's side first, it would have been for no better reason--the kid idolized them both.

His hand was out stretched, clad in his armor as usual, but Steve should have noticed the difference then. Tony's mask was open. His face was visible.

If you'd been lying to me you'd never have let me see your face.

You'd have known that I'd see right through you.

"You've known me half of my adult life, Cap. You know I wouldn't do this unless I believed in it with all my heart. We don't want to fight you. Just give me the chance to tell you our plans for my twenty-first century overhaul."

Tony hadn't wanted to fight.

I knew that and I still took that time to strike a blow.

To betray him.

Steve took Tony's outstretched hand and they shook on the promise of talking.

"You've got five minutes."

"Five minutes is all I need..."

Peter was cheering in the background. It was too soon, as Tony noticed the scrambler on his armored hand. It worked quickly, sparking and making Tony defenseless so that Steve could strike the first blow with his shield. It wasn't a fair fight. It never had been. Steve had been planning that from the beginning.

The scene was flickering in and out on the fighting. It couldn't got fast enough because Steve didn't want to relive this moment. He didn't want to watch this moment again and be defenseless against it. It disappeared as the Thor clone killed Bill Foster.

Maybe if I'd let him speak...



The stadium. Steve in the bullpen waiting for Tony after Tony had hacked into an old channel. He wanted to meet and he wanted to talk. Steve wasn't sure at the time why he'd gone to hear Tony out, whatever he had to say.

I should have known they'd follow me.

I should have known they wouldn't let their... leader.. go out to meet the enemy without back up.

That's simple military strategy.

Tony arrived and stood on the pitchers mound, in a wrinkled business suit with his hair tousled and his mouth set. He looked angry, and there's something else there. Something Steve didn't notice the first time. Tony looked miserable. It was the most vulnerability he'd seen in Stark for weeks.

"What do you want, Stark?"

"Just one question."

"Why didn't you just ask me over the radio?"

"I want to see your eyes when you answer it."

In other words, he wanted to know if I was lying.

I'd never seen Tony so angry, so... lost. He'd been personally attacked but not just him... someone he cared about.

Someone not involved in our war. Happy Hogan didn't deserve that. Neither did May Parker...

It stung the first time Tony asked the question, like a knife wound. He'd deserved the question being asked, but the fact that it had come to this... that Tony would suspect him of doing something to his friends.

"Did you have anything to do with what happened to Happy Hogan?"

"You know I'd never--"

"Just answer the question."

"No."

Tony's face hadn't changed. He still bore a mask of anger. Now that he thought of it, it was Tony's only real emotion these days. Steve recalled how little of his feelings Tony seemed to show since he'd injected the Extremis, but at least he was starting to break the facade. Tony was cracking under the pressure, under the attack. Steve knew all too well that Tony would rather be the one in the coma in Hogan's place. The fact that he wasn't had clearly shaken Tony at the foundation like an earthquake.

"What about the others?"

"No one under my command had anything to do with it. If they did, I'd put a bow on him and hand deliver him to your penthouse."

"And Castle? What about...the Punisher?"

The memory began to fade like a flashback scene on a bad television show as the sound of Steve's rebelling forces arriving on the scene filled the air. He'd told them to stop but it was no good, and as they took him away and ganged up on Tony (now ready for battle in his armor), the scene disappeared completely. Steve still felt the surge of anger at the arrival of his troops. This had been an agreed parlay. No battle.

If I'd been able to stay... if they hadn't interrupted... Tony would have crumbled.

Maybe we would have talked.

Who knows what could have happened?



--where am I know? The mansion...

Tony stood in his armor, the faceplate up. He was pleading. Steve knew he'd come in in the middle of a conversation. Then he remembered. He listened to Tony speak, and he remembered exactly where they were and what was going on. This was near the end of the conflict... a private meeting on hollowed ground.

"I know terrible things have happened and I hate it. I hate that we're in this habit of mutually assured destruction. You escalate, I escalate. Tell me Steve, tell me what I can do! What can I do to make this stop!"

God. I never noticed before... Tony started to cry... I was so blinded by my hate and my anger. I was so ready to fight him and force him out, or make him see my way that he was genuinely asking for me to listen and to give his way a thought... and I didn't... again...

"Join me. Denounce the act and help me fight it."

"I can't."

Tony continued to speak but the world started to fade away again, the words slurring together and blurring into Steve's perception of the tangible and the intangible. He shook his head watching it fade. He tried to stay aware of the moment but all he saw was the hazy figure of Iron Man against the muddy back drop of the shambled mansion, the picture on the wall of the Avengers who had called the place home.





No!

Not Yet!

I'm not done with this... god I need to remember this!

No--god no.

Why is this happening? I can't do anything to change the past. I can't fix the mistakes I've made.

Is there a moral I'm supposed to learn from this?

Jumped again, without resolution but at least I don't have to watch myself fight Tony...





"Steve?"

It was cold at first as awareness nipped at the corners of his consciousness, first as hazy voices and blurry backlit figures. He blinked a few times before opening his eyes to see James standing over him. James, in the Captain America uniform. This couldn't be a memory because he'd never seen... this was... familiar but not. He could control his movements, turn his head, twitch his fingers, raise his arm. He was conscious and not just an observer of a past experience. He moved his hand to his head feeling dizzy and nauseous. He closed his eyes again, trying to orient himself to his surroundings. From what he'd seen it looked like a lab of some kind--too clean to be Stark, too organized to be Pym... Reed Richards. He opened his eyes again and looked at James, who was still a little blurry. Behind him, Natasha, the Black Widow. Spider-Woman Jessica Drew, Ms Marvel Carol Danvers... Clint? Bobbi? But they were dea--then again, no one seemed to stay dead.

"Steve, can you hear me?" James voice sounded panicked.

"I can... I can hear you?" He swallowed the hoarseness in his throat. "What happened... what's going on?"

James didn't respond right away but Steve heard the clinking of glass and the sound of water running from the tap. A hand appeared from above him, handing him a glass of water. Red gloved with black pip--

"Hey Peter..." Steve sat up slowly before taking the glass.

"How'd you know?" Peter was suspended from the ceiling, upside down as he removed his mask.

Steve looked around the room, recognizing it as his own Brooklyn abode then gave Peter a look, before swallowing down the water faster than he'd anticipated he would. On the other side of the room, the Cages - Luke and Jessica - and Logan. They were definitely in Richards' lab, he'd recognize it anywhere. Reed himself was no where to be seen for now, but he'd find the man later . He had other business to attend to at the moment.

"What happened?"

James' mood was hard to place. He looked nervous, maybe angry and a little relieved as he swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. "You've been... gone. For about a year. People thought you were dead but you...weren't-- not... quite."

Steve looked at him before giving a brief nod.

"I don't really know how to explain it. You'll have to ask the science guys." James sighed, looking away from Steve like a guilty child. "But things are different and the world is a mess. A lot has changed since you... whatever really happened. We'll prepare you for it but you should probably relax now..."

"I still want to know how you knew I'm me." Peter muttered.

Steve shook his head, running a hand down his face. He had one thing on his mind. The last thing he'd seen was Tony Stark. His battle with Stark. He needed to see him. That flashback, that time jump... whatever it was... it had been shown to him for a reason. He knew there was something, a hidden message in why he saw specifically the moments with Tony. These moments where Stark had shown him compassion and he'd ignored it. Maybe it was his turn to show the same to Tony, to apologize for his sins against his friend.

"Where's Stark? I need.. I need to see Stark."

Steve moved his hand away from his face and looked around when his question was met with silence thick like a fog hanging in the room. James was looking at the floor, as if he were being punished. Looking around the room, no one met his eyes. Peter rubbed the nape of his neck and came down from the ceiling, giving Carol a glance.

"Where is Tony...." Steve repeated, more urgent with a harsh tone.


Too late.

I'm always too late.

Too late to act, too late to change things, too late to make a difference.

This time it's no different.

I'm too late.

They made him put on clean surgical scrubs before letting him into the sterile room. The silence was heavy; it felt like a ten ton weight on his shoulders, interrupted intermittently by the blips of the monitor as it registered Tony's faltering heart beat. Low lighting of the room gave it the eerie ambiance of a wake, as if Tony's body was lying in state awaiting visitors to wish him well in the after life.

His steps were hesitant as he entered the room, feeling ridiculous with the mask over his nose and mouth, the booties on his feet. What could he possibly be carrying to give Tony? He'd just risen from the "dead". He approached the bed, noticing the way Tony appeared different--his head shaved down, leaving only a bit of dark return growth in its place, his face covered with a bit of stubble but no actual facial hair, no trace of his neatly trimmed vandyke. His skin pale lacking the luster of its olive hue, and he'd definitely lost weight. With all the changes to his appearance, he still remained identifiably Tony Stark.

Steve placed a hand on Tony's forehead, smoothing his thumb along the soft skin, noticing how fragile he seemed under the snaking vines of wires and tubing. Steve could tell which ones lead from the IV drip, the feeding tube, the heart monitor, the catheter and the tube shoved down Tony's throat and taped crudely to ensure Tony had air. This is what happened while he was away. He was too late to save Tony from this fate.

"What are these for?" Steve questioned.

Steve glanced away from Tony a moment to look at Reed. Mr. Fantastic was stretching about the room to look over the multiple read outs and monitors that were functioning with purpose of helping them understand Tony's condition. In truth, the room looked more like a miniature lab than it did a hospital room because of all the computers and systems that were in there.

Reed Richards followed Steve's gaze to the wiring that led from plugs in the back of Stark's head. He made a thoughtful humming sound before stretching over to look at Steve,

"Those are downloading the information from his Drive X. These were the instructions he left us in case this happened. It's really quite remarkable. The enchancile was designed to keep the subject alive at all costs."

Steve nodded and looked down at Tony again.

"Could I be alone with him?"

Reed hesitated before nodding, taking the hint surprisingly well as he tended to be absorbed in science rather than the affairs of his fellow man. When the room slid shut behind him, Steve took Tony's hand in his, sitting on the edge of the bed and careful not to pull or move any of the connections. The last thing he needed to do was screw something up.

Steve stared down at Tony's motionless form, his face lifeless, his eyes shrouded by his eyelids with his dark lashes striking fans against the pale skin of his cheeks. Steve swallowed, gripping the slack hand in his own, before pressing the smooth back of his hand to his lips. He closed his eyes and just held it for a moment as if he could open his eyes to see Tony smiling back at him. He knew there would be no such luck.

He was fine with the silence, as long as he could sit there. Tony deserved that much comfort, even if he'd never know.

"Tony.." he finally found words. Even if Tony wouldn't reply. "Tony... god.. there are so many things you deserve to know. I don't even think you can hear me but...I'm going to try anyway."

"I... screwed up. I made a mistake and you were the casualty in the long run. The war, the registration, I was blinded by anger and I should have stopped long enough to listen to you. I took advantage of my status... just as you'd said... I... betrayed my beliefs by trying to fight for something I thought I believed in..."

He hesitated, looking down at Tony and gripping his slack hand tighter.

"There's so much you deserve to see. There's so much left for you to do and I know that I'm too late but if I could change this, go back and make it right, I would. I don't... I don't think you should have to pay this price for our mistakes, mistakes we both made. Tony... god... it wasn't worth it."

Steve bent his head forward unable to hold up it's weight, overcome with emotion as the monitor cried out it's final aria , Tony's life ending with nothing more than a sigh from the breathing tube.

Too late.

Fin