#capimtrb2016

Moving in with Tony meant no safety net, no take-backs, in-for-a-penny-in-for-a-pound. It meant that Tony and he were now life partners, together in the good times and the bad. Tony blanched at the idea of an official commitment like marriage. And Steve wanted to make a statement about Tony’s place in his life. So moving in was a compromise -- commitment, but no courthouse paperwork.

Now if Tony bought that line of reasoning … Steve loved Tony heart and soul but asking Tony was a big risk. Tony could easily say no.

Ororo knocked on the doorframe to get his attention. “Steve, we have an alien invasion hitting New Jersey,” she announced.

“Alright.” His personal worries could wait. “Avengers Assemble.”

The aliens turned out to be shape-shifting blobs who had nifty blasters that shot some sort of shape-shifting chemical. Steve spent the better part of his afternoon as a dog, a hamster, a wolf, a gazelle and an elephant. He made good use of being an elephant by crushing alien ships. The whole fight was a slog from beginning to end, until Tony found a way to round up and neutralize the aliens.

Steve was bone tired as he took a shower. Tomorrow he’d have a long day of paperwork. Plus there were the team assessments and review of injuries and whatnot. Tony had been the only one to escape the shape-shifting blasts. Bruce was already hunkered down in his lab evaluating the effects of the blasts.

He should call it an early night. He could read in bed with Tony, who could maybe be convinced to watch a movie. He smiled, thinking of Tony tinkering on something as they talked over the day.

“Steve?” Tony shouted through the bathroom door. “I’m going to help Bruce in the lab.”

Guess he was reading in bed by himself tonight. He couldn’t blame Tony for being interested in the alien technology. There’d be other nights.

Except it turned out that Tony didn’t spend the night in the lab. Steve debriefed Bruce the next afternoon about the aliens. Bruce asked, “Have you seen Tony?”

“Not since last night,” Steve said. “He told me he was working in the lab with you.”

“No, never saw him after we got back to the Tower. Huh. Anyway, as I was telling you about the aliens ….”

Tony didn’t show for dinner either. Peter and Jan hadn’t seen him at all. Ororo pondered a moment. “I think I saw him. He was in a hoodie heading to the elevator.”

“Oh, he had something to do at Stark Enterprises,” Jan said. “He’s been working on some big project. He’s probably still there.”

Steve spent another night alone in his room. He had barely spent the night here in weeks. It was a strange, empty feeling as he looked around the room with his clothes and art supplies neatly stowed away. He turned on the television as he tapped on his voicemail.

Tony had left a message saying he’d be late, he had a hard problem to solve, and would check in with Steve later. Steve smiled as he turned off his phone. He’d see Tony in the morning.

Instead of seeing Tony over coffee and scrambled eggs, though, Steve had an early morning supervillain fight. Peter and Jan helped out and they had the villains in SHIELD’s hands by noon. Then Peter wanted to get lunch. Steve had errands to run. Plus he needed to work on his let’s-move-in-together speech.

Nothing from Tony. Which was worrying to Steve. Since they started dating, Tony had always been in touch, even if he just was on a different floor of the Tower. This radio silence was less than encouraging. He trusted and believed in Tony and maybe Tony was caught up in something tricky right now and would check in later when he had the time.

Steve was washing the dinner dishes (Jarvis’ night off) when the thought hit him that Tony knew what he was going to ask. All Steve had said about the weekend was they both needed some downtime and a couple of nights off would fit the bill. He didn’t even make dinner reservations.

What if Tony was freaking out about what he thought Steve was going to ask? What if Tony thought Steve wanted to talk about their relationship, or that Steve was thinking of breaking up with him? The dish Steve was washing nearly fell out of his hands. He’d never do that to Tony.

Jan and Ororo walked into the kitchen, Jan chattering away. “Ugh, I can’t believe we’re still dealing with that shape-shifting goo stuff. I woke up yesterday with bunny ears. They disappeared by lunch. But still, you know, bunny ears!”

“I have not any ill effects until this afternoon, when I turned into a parrot. Bruce noticed the change -- he told me he’s working on an antidote in case it keeps happening.”

“Steve, any odd changes?”

“No,” he replied. “Nothing like that.”

“Ugh. Super-soldier serum,” Jan complained. “I bet Tony isn’t having problems. He was the only one not doused in that goo.”

Steve asked, “Have you seen Tony?”

“No.” Jan exchanged a worried look with Ororo. “There was a sighting after I got back from lunch -- Tony was sneaking back to his room in a hoodie.”

“Oh. Guess he’s busy with work,” Steve said sadly.

Another night alone in his antiseptic room. No messages from Tony. Not even a cheerful good night. It was Wednesday and he hadn’t heard from his boyfriend in two days. Steve checked his phone again. No messages. Nothing. He picked up his book but the words blurred together. Fine. He tossed the book down on the bed. He threw on jeans and a t-shirt and headed over to Tony’s room.

“Tony!” he knocked on the door. “Come on. It’s me, Steve. What’s going on?”  

No answer. He pounded on the door. “Tony!” Steve paused and considered. He should try a different place.

He turned and smacked right into Tony. Tony had a grey hoodie on with the hood drawn up tight over his head and face. He was clutching a large mug of coffee.

“Tony?” Steve asked. “What’s going on? I haven’t seen you in two days.”

“Busy, you know, busy.” Tony tried to push past Steve.

Now Steve felt hurt.

“Um, Tony, what’s going on here?”

He bit his lip as it started to dawn on him that maybe Tony had a reason to avoid Steve. Here he wanted to move in together, and Tony want to break up. Steve felt like an idiot thinking that his relationship was on solid ground. After all, Tony was extremely smart -- he had guessed what Steve was planning and his answer was no.

So straight to break up. “If you --”

Tony put his hand on Steve’s arm. “Look, I should have said something sooner. Don’t -- don’t make that face, Steve. You’re freaking me out. It’s okay, big guy.”

He reached up and took off the hoodie.

“You have cat ears,” Steve said.

“And a tail.”

Now Steve was angry. “And you didn’t tell me! What the hell, Tony?”

“Seriously, it’s okay. I, um, well, didn’t want to ruin our weekend. You know, with the whole cat thing.”

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m your boyfriend. You’re my partner in running the Avengers. And you didn’t think I should know that you were recovering from being turned into a cat. Since we fought shape-shifters a couple of days ago.”

“I don’t know if I’m recovering. The ears and tail are sticking around longer than I thought.”

“But you weren’t covered in the shape-shifting goo.”

“Well, it seeped through the vents, I guess. I’ve been more cat than Tony for awhile. The effects are finally fading.”

Steve took a deep breath. He was torn between wanting to shout and throwing his hands up. “Tony, we’re superheroes. This isn’t that big of a deal in the long run. Bruce is working on an antidote.”

He lookEd at Tony’s ears, which appeared silky and soft. “And even if it was permanent, I still love you. I don’t see how a tail and ears would change how I feel.”

Tony stared at the ground. “I didn’t want to ruin your plans for Friday -- you had to have something big planned. That’s what everyone said when the duty roster came out.”

“It wasn’t anything big. I wanted to ask you about moving in together,” Steve blurted out.

“Oh, huh, I was thinking art exhibit or WWII event thing.” Tony shifted and his tail -- a nice long furry black tail -- popped out. “I didn’t want to embarrass you or anything.”

“Your tail looks nice,” Steve said.

Tony looked down at the tail brushing his leg. “I’m almost used to it.” He shivered, rubbed his hands over his arms. “Hey, can we take this inside? We have a lot to talk about.”

Later, Steve looked down at Tony curled up against him in bed. His hand lightly brushed Tony’s ears and Tony swatted him.

“So moving in together? That’s the idea?”

“Yeah.” Steve had put together a whole persuasive speech about why they should do this. But he was distracted by Tony’s adorable ears. “I thought it was a good idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea. Especially right now, I haven’t been this warm in days.”

Tony yawned and shifted to a better spot along Steve’s body. “You needed a whole weekend to ask me?”

“Seems a little silly now.”

“Good. Bring the rest of your stuff tomorrow and we can hole up here all weekend until the tail and ears disappear.”

“You know, Tony, I will never be embarrassed by you. Considering all we’ve been through, this is not the weirdest thing we’ve dealt with.”

Finally, Steve has a tracking device and he feeds it the armour override codes and sees a weak signal; follows it alone. Nothing good has ever come of meeting Tony with other people.

(Not that anything good has come of meeting him alone, either).

He ends up in Necropolis, and he’s had teams go through it before, of course he had—it’s the most obvious place, which makes it a good place to hide—but there was nothing there. Either Tony’s newly moved here, or managed to hide—either way, Steve will find him now. He will make Tony answer for his sins, even if it’s the last thing he does.

It’s quite fitting that the world is ending now, Steve thinks, gripping his cane as he walks into the narrow corridors. Going on with the memory of Tony’s betrayal behind him seems impossible—but then, Steve reminds himself he’s here to stop it. To save the world. Because he’s not like Tony: he is still a hero. He helps people, not stabs them in the back.

Steve wants to hit something—Tony—and makes himself breathe and goes on.

Necropolis is almost suffocating, bringing memories fresh to the mind, arguments, Infinity Gems, Tony smiling at him and Tony telling Strange to wipe Steve’s mind.

He thinks that if he was stronger, if he wasn’t so old and frail, he’d break the cane.

He walks on. He refuses to let Tony break him.

(Tony already has.)

There aren’t any traps, or if there are, they only set off silent alarms. Steve doesn’t really care. Tony can’t run anymore.

Everything looks the same as he remembers it, no armouries or secret labs, and he frowns as he looks into the room on the way. What if Tony fooled him again?

No.

Steve walks into the next room and stops dead in his tracks. His heart is beating wildly and he can’t breathe and he feels like the walls are crumbling around him.

There’s a glass cage in the centre of the otherwise empty room, and inside it is a prone figure, a man in a broken silver armour lying on his side. There’s blood on the glass wall next to him, and on the ground; he looks malnourished and tortured.

Steve swallows, tries to push the unwanted worry away, because the man might have too long hair and beard and be too pale, but Steve will always recognize Tony, even if he wasn’t wearing his armour still.

Steve almost runs the last metres, hits the cage with his cane—not just an old man’s support, but also a weapon—and as the glass shatters, Steve pushes forward to kneel next to Tony.

“Stark,” he hears himself say, his own voice foreign to his ears.

Tony stirs, opens bloodshot eyes. “I’m dying already,” he whispers. “You don’t have to show me him to torture me more.”

Steve wants to shake him, but Tony’s obviously hurt, and he—he—after everything he’s said and thought, Steve doesn’t want to make it worse.

“Stark,” he repeats, because he can’t bring himself to say Tony. “It’s me. Not a hallucination.”

Tony lets out a dry laugh. “Is it,” he says. “I’m not sure it matters anymore.”

“Let me—”

“Sorry, Steve,” Tony says. “Someone did your job for you.”

Steve grabs his shoulder tight and the armour cracks under his touch. “Don’t say that.”

Tony’s silent. His eyelids are dropping. Steve’s more scared than he’s ever been in his life.

“I did love you,” Tony whispers, and figures he can still stab Steve straight in the heart while almost unconscious. “Maybe that was the problem.”

Steve refuses to get in any discussion with him now. There are more important things. “There’s—there’s hope. Tony.”

Tony’s eyes shot open, blue terrifyingly vivid for a moment. “There was never any hope, Steve,” he says.

“No—”

Tony’s eyes close again. Steve shakes him, and yells, screams and cries—but Tony doesn’t move again.

Steve’s fingers find his pulse point, and he doesn’t feel anything, anything at all.