#@icecoldreactor

The blonde looked at the man beyond the glass-like wall that separated them. He knew that the man was not what he seemed. Not human in fact, though it would be difficult to say otherwise. Like Thor he came from somewhere else. Someplace that--until awakening in this strange century--Steve hadn't been sure was real.

The demon's eyes were bright, but not dangerous looking. They were...enticing. Alluring. Steve had trouble looking away from them, continually glad for the several inches of bullet proof glass between them. Because otherwise... he might be tempted to reach out and touch the captured creature's skin.

The question brought him out of his wondering haze however, making him blink and square his shoulders a little, even as he gave the other a little smile, drifting closer to the prison he was in. "What makes you think I'm a 'good boy'?" he asked, almost surprised the words slipped out of his mouth. Not that they were untrue of course...

Prim and polished as Steve looked and what Shield was always trying to present him as...he'd always been a hard scrabble kid from Brooklyn. No amount of mascotting was going to change that.

@icecoldreactor

"Tony?" Steve called, stepping into the room, a bit surprised to find it empty. He had already checked the workshop and the other spots that Tony usually haunted in the penthouse, but there was no sign of his boyfriend. Yet Jarvis insisted he was indeed home.

 Steve woke up shivering hard. Curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his middle. He swore he could feel the icy water seeping into his skin; the chunks of glacier closing in above him, blocking out chance of escape even if he could escape the wreckage. Acrid smoke in his lungs...

Steve let out a cry in spite of himself and sat up harshly, kicking at what was trapping him only to find he was tangled in the bed sheets, pillows flying to the floor in his struggle, one exploding in a puff of downy white feathers.

Rogers looked around, still panicked, trying to make sense of where he was. Not in the plane. He knew that now. The crash was decades ago.

Why did he feel so rough then?

Steve looked down, realizing he was bandaged and patched up, gauze and tape over now almost healed wounds and slowly fading bruises. 

The mountains. The fight and explosion, where he had been knocked from his motorcycle and took a hard tumble of the mountainside, half buried under an mountain of snow before Tony and the others found him and dug him out.

“Tony?” he called into the empty bedroom, hoping his fiancé was somewhere just out of sight, perhaps in the bathroom or in one of the offices. “Tony?” he called again, climbing from the bed now, muscles only slightly sore. The serum was taking care of the worst of the injuries as always...but falling off a mountain was no little tumble.

Steve was still shivering hard, like his body thought it was still trapped in the snow. It made it difficult to get from the bed, his legs nearly going out from him. He caught himself on the edge, catching his breath just to look out the wall length windows of the penthouse to see that it was snowing here too. Big heavy flakes falling over New York from dark swollen snow clouds that littered the sky.

It would have been beautiful, if it didn’t feel like it was closing in around him.

//a while after civil war ?

The assistant looked awkwardly from her boss to the figure that emerged from the doorway.

"Um, I'm sorry Mr. Stark but..."

"It's okay," Steve said, announcing himself. "I let myself in. Not her fault." He added, giving the young woman an out as she excused herself quickly from the room, no doubt feeling the tension there.

Steve had realized that Tony would likely be unhappy to see him. He realized too that Tony might throw him out...or even through a punch at him. If he did...Steve would take it.

Rogers stepped more fully into the room. Gone was the clean-shaven All American Hero that Tony had once loved so well. His hair had grown out some, long wisps trailing at his neck and shorter strands dusting over his forehead. He'd grown a beard as well, and suddenly looked another ten years older, though still as handsome as ever.

But his eyes were dimmer now. Some of the light gone. The serum kept the man looking fit and healthy, as strong as always, but there was a shadow over that perfection now. A pall of weariness and disillusion.

Steve's eyes met Tony's drinking him in. He had gone dark while in Wakanda, and while living on the run with Sam. Meaning he hadn't seen Stark's face plastered across the media. He'd only seen newspaper clippings from time to time in his constant travels. Seeing the real thing again was something very different.

He was angry. And heartbroken. And full of remorse, as well as betrayal. They had hurt each other so much. Something they swore they would never do. Steve didn't think anything could hurt him worse than that day...

Somehow, this made all those hurts fresh. Winded him completely.

He wondered if from where Tony sat, he could see the pale scars on his cheek bone that had never healed right, despite the serum. They were thin and pearly and almost unnoticeable. Until you got close.

A reminder to him that Tony's marks surely hadn't healed as quickly.

He stepped forward until he was just a few feet from Tony, then stopped, taking a small, shaky breath. There was no haughtiness, no stoic soldier facade that so often showed in uniform. There was just Steve.

"Hello Tony."

It didn’t take long before the nurses and doctors flocked in like flies around shit to check on his condition, Tony hated to be around anyone in a white coat. Shortly followed by the team, and all his friends well, all but one. He thought maybe the captain was still recovering from battle himself but Peter informed Tony that Tony had been unconscious for months, they were unsure if he’d wake. The world was slowly recovering and getting back on track, so where was Steve? Did he not want to visit him? Honestly the last few days leading up to the battle, Tony had never felt so sure, so connected to the blonde but maybe he got ahead of himself. Even pepper had seen the look in his eyes when he spoke of him, she knew who he was thinking of.

Steve laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling and the slow listless rotation of the fan. He had no energy to move, his eyes bloodshot and tired. He couldn't remember the last time he had really slept. Not that he needed all that much sleep with the serum. Though after the battle with Thanos, Bruce had warned him that he had taxed himself to his limits and that there would be lingering damage even with the serum. Some things could still leave scars.

Bucky peered in on him, sighing. "When did you get home last night?" Barnes asked his friend.

Steve looked at him briefly and sighed. "Few hours ago."

"Hospital again?"

Rogers nodded and Bucky sighed. "I don't understand why you keep it a secret, Stevie. It ain't like you're a wanted man anymore."

Steve didn't have an answer, but Bucky suspected the real reason behind Roger's late night vigils at Stark's bedside, rarely appearing during the day when the remainder of the team was still there.

"It's my fault, Buck." the blonde croaked eventually. That made the other still, wide-eyed.

"What?"

"It's my fault." Steve said again, more quietly this time. "If I was stronger, he wouldn't have had to use the gauntlet. I could have survived it better. He wouldn't be..."

Steve closed his eyes and went silent, but Bucky hadn't missed the crack in his voice. It broke Bucky's heart to see his best friend like this. Made him angry too, that Steve was putting the blame on himself when the only real person to blame was the giant purple dick-head that was now dust.

Steve's cellphone rang then and Rogers ignored it. Bucky moved to answer it out of frustration. "Captain America's answering service, how may I direct your call?" Bucky teased into the phone.

It was Rhodey on the other end. Bucky's snark disappeared his eyes going wide as he looked to Steve. "He's awake."

**

Steve didn't know, or care, how many traffic laws he had broken getting here as fast as he could on his motorcycle. He had forgone the elevator; too impatient to wait and instead had sprinted up 8 flights of stairs to get to the ICU where Tony was being taken care of in a private room.

He strode towards the doorway and then froze, blinking as he spied Stark propped up in bed. Awake. Somewhat alert.

"Tony." The man's man escaped his lips like a long breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding in. For a moment, The Captain was frozen in place, only a few short feet dividing him from the man he loved so much, had risked so much for, had....had done so much damage to.

All at once the man was on the move, dropping onto Tony's bedside and dropping his head to his chest, gripping Tony's good hand and squeezing tight. "I'm sorry..."

//JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL, take this however you want, I am not responsible for the angst of whatever kind lol

Steve's jaw went tight and his eyes went wide, staring at the man across from him. Speechless. He went cold all over, and then hot, and then numb.

Tony didn't seem to be joking now. As they sat across from each other in the living room, Steve felt like he'd taken a gut punch as he looked at the expression on his boyfriend's face.

"You think I slept with Natasha?" he asked slowly, just to be sure he had heard the other right.

//sorry domestic Tony is here

 Steve gave Tony a look that was somewhere between speechless amazement and muted exasperation, though it passed quickly as the blonde swallowed and folded his hand against his mouth in thought. 

 “No, you don’t need my permission.” He said after a moment, a smile fixed on his face now as he stepped closer to his boyfriend. “You’re a grown man and it’s your decision. But if you don’t need my permission, you also don’t need my help taking care of it.” He said, and the smile became a small, slightly challenging little smirk. “I mean obviously, it’s YOUR dog and that means it’s YOUR responsibility. Walking, feeding, washing, all that. And you’re not allowed to ask Happy to do it for you. OR Pepper.”

Steve couldn’t hide the mischief in his eyes, waiting for Tony’s reply.