Archive of Our Own

There was someone on the other end of the line, and it wasn’t Tony.

That was the first thing Steve realized. The only thing he cared about. He’d picked up the phone faster than it would’ve taken a normal human to blink, because he’d been ready for it- ready for two years. Ready to talk. And he’d kept it on him, for all this time, just in case. But now- now it was here, and Tony wasn’t on the other end. The voice was familiar, yes, but it wasn't tuneful and sharp and drawling in the way that Tony's was; it was hoarse and desperate and panicked. It wasn't him.

Steve’s heart plummeted into his shoes between the pausing of his breath, and he gripped the back of the chair in order to stop his knees buckling.

No.

No, Tony couldn’t have…

“Steve?” Bruce asked again, for the third time. “Steve, you need to listen to me. Something big is coming. I need you. The world needs you.”

Tony. What about Tony. What had happened to…

He looked to the TV screen; saw the explosions and the spaceship and the hundreds of screaming people. There was chaos on the streets, and Steve was pulled back six years, back to the first battle of New York, when they'd thought that was the worst thing to ever happen to their planet. People had died and mourned and then got back to work until the next apocalypse had struck, and then the next, and then the next.
This wasn't about him- it rarely ever was. This was just the next fight. He had a duty.

Tony was gone, and Steve was now the last line of defence. The grief was going to have to come later.

“I’m coming,” He said softly, and then turned his head Northward- in the direction of home.

*

They were fucked.

Thanos. That was what Bruce called him. Destroyer of entire planets, wanted half the universe dead. And he was coming for Earth.

“He wants the mind stone,” Bruce said quietly, eyes flicking over to Vision, stood in the corner. He was already injured. Dying, maybe.

“Then we gotta stop that from ever happening,” Natasha straightened her back and Steve watched her hand flex, reach out for the gun at her side. Always ready for the fight, was Natasha. All of them were, actually. Because the fight never stopped.

He cast his mind back, 2 years, five months and six days ago, back to when Tony had been laying at his side, fingers working quietly through Steve’s hair as he’d pressed his mouth up against Steve’s collarbone where a stitched-up scar ran from bicep to shoulder. The fight that day had been brutal and hard, and both of them had taken knocks. But they'd made it, even if only by the skin of their teeth. And after battles, they always made sure they were together. Neither of them dealt well with loneliness, especially not after losses. It just reminded them too painfully of the fragility of their lives.

“One day, this will all be over,” Tony had promised into his skin, and Steve had believed it. He really had.

“I hope we’re both around when it is,” he’d responded, leaning forward and sealing their mouths together.

Just a memory, now. A pipe dream, really. It always fell apart, in the end.

*

They fought in Wakanda. They fought with everything they had. Anything they had.

Steve watched people fall. He saw the teeth flash in front of his face and go for his jugular. Merciless. There was so much blood. So, so much blood.

This was never going to end.

But then it did. It ended with a gust of wind, with a black hole opening and a mad Titan stepping out.

Vision. Gone.

And then the crash of lightning, the crackle of pure energy as Thor wedged his axe deep into the heart of Thanos. Steve had watched, blearily from his position on the floor with the tiniest, weakest flicker of what could almost be construed as hope igniting in his chest. Maybe they could do it. Maybe, in the nick of time, all that death would not just be for nothing.
Thor said something, and there was purple blood all over him, they had to have won this. They had to.

Thanos replied, and there was a smile on his face.

He snapped his fingers, and half the world turned to dust anyway.

*

Bucky.

Sam.

Vision.

Wanda.

T’challa.

More.

“We did all we could, Steve.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

*

He thought of all the time he’d wasted in his life.

The days with Peggy, too scared for a kiss. The ice. The two year gap of vast space in which there was a man, a man with hazel eyes and a heart that glowed, who should have filled it. Who he’d been to goddamned stubborn and too goddamn proud to call, and even try to fix things. He’d let the ball stay in Tony’s court, afraid that any approach on his side would be unwanted and rejected, afraid of the words that would be hurled at him, afraid afraid afraid afraid.

He doesn’t think he’s capable of fear, anymore. Nothing really matters. It’s been two days since Thanos had come. Steve was watching the whole world mourn. And all he could so selfishly think of was his own loss. His best friend. His partner. His…

Well. Whatever Tony had been.

Gone, now. Ash in the wind.

Steve looked out into the ruins of Wakanda. He was still in the palace, despite the fact that it had no ruler anymore. Some of the fires still burned on the outskirts. The people who remained were stretched thin, ruined in every way. Cleaning up bodies of alien and friend alike, whilst also trying to stop the spread of flame that still ravaged their once-beautiful country.

Everywhere he looked, death surrounded him.

He was going to realize, soon, the true magnitude of what had happened. And when it hit him, he was going to fall. He knew that. He could already feel it begin to build, deep in his chest. Some of the soldiers in the city had already begun the process. Thor had not spoken a word in 48 hours. He just cried, and cried, and cried.

Steve didn’t blame him. Thor really had lost it all. He was mourning the loss of not only half of Earth, but his own homeland, and his own family. Steve remembered before (because now there was only Before and After) how Thor had used to laugh so loudly and smile so bright- never fazed by a thing, and always, always optimistic.

Not so much, now.

It had all been a lot easier, a few years ago.

*

A spaceship landed in Wakanda, and Steve got up to fight because he was one of the only ones left who could.

He grabbed the shield that T’challa had made for him, and he ran down with Natasha and Bruce behind him. He didn’t even have a uniform on. What was the point? If they were here for round two, then they might as well make it quick. Steve no longer cared whether he lived or died.

A blue woman stepped out of the wrecked pod, and there was someone leaning heavily against her side.

Steve looked at Tony, and Tony looked at Steve.

He lurched forward, quicker than he’d thought possible, quicker than was healthy for him, and ripped the shields from his arms in order to curl himself around Tony instead. It didn’t matter about their past, not anymore. There was only a Before and an After, and right now, Before didn’t matter. Before had already happened.

But Tony was here, and Tony was… he was alive. He was in Steve’s arms, where he should’ve been all along.

It was more than Steve would ever have expected or dreamed he would get.

Tony shook underneath him, and he didn’t even attempt to push away like Steve had thought he would. Instead, he curled further in, buried his face into Steve’s neck and gasped, quiet and so full of grief. His hands clung to the fabric of Steve’s shirt like a lifeline.

“What happened?” Steve whispered, nose brushing Tony’s hair. His hands rose, cradled Tony’s jaw and lifted his head a little so that Steve was staring right at him.

Tony’s face was ashen. Blood crusted around his hairline. He was leaning into Steve like it was the only thing holding him up, and Steve knew he was injured, knew he was hurt badly, but before he could worry about that he just had to know exactly what had gone on whilst Tony had been fighting in that other corner of existence.

Tony’s hands shook. Violently so. His head was turning, back and forth, back and forth. In all the years that Steve had known and loved him, he had never seen him like this. There had never been a thing on earth that had broken Tony Stark in the way that this had.

“He’s gone,” Tony choked, shutting his eyes and sagging back into Steve. “Oh God, he’s really gone, he’s-“

“Hey, shhh,” Steve soothed him as best he could, holding Tony up in his arms and looking frantically to Bruce, to the blue woman, wondering what the hell was going on. “It’s okay. It’s alright. You made it back. You survived.”

Tony stiffened up under him, and Steve felt the wet warmth through his T-shirt as Tony’s tears slipped into the material. “But Peter didn’t.”

And Steve had to take a second to think about it, because the name didn’t ring a bell to him. There were no Peter’s in Tony’s life, not that Steve had been aware of. Well, except for the intern kid who-

Then he understood.

With a sigh of regret, of loss and pain and understanding, Steve gripped Tony tighter and let him mourn.

*

The rain was falling in Wakanda, and Steve found Tony watching it through the windows.

There was a glass of something amber in his hand. Steve wasn’t sure where he’d found it, but he’d had one on him ever since he’d got out of the hospital wing, and Steve figured it was no longer his place to call him out on it, so he didn’t. Honestly, if Steve could’ve gotten drunk, he probably would’ve done the same. Anything to try and ease the pain of… well, everything.

Tony turned his head ever so slightly as Steve stepped in the room. His face did not change, though. It rarely did, now. Not since he’d been discharged from the hospital. He’d barely spoken a word to anyone- not Steve, not Rhodey. He just holed himself up in the observatory room- where both of them were right now.

Steve swallowed and held up a plate. “Brought food,” he said, and it was an echo of the way he’d used to do it- with a wave and a smile and a fond voice.

Tony grunted. That was all the acknowledgment Steve got, but he accepted that and moved forward anyway. The plate in his hand felt awkward, but he didn’t want to put it on the desk because he knew Tony would just ignore it. Instead, he wandered up to Tony’s left and just hovered for a little, before looking out to the view Tony saw.

Death and destruction, everywhere. Everywhere.

“I miss the old times,” Steve said, and he tried to make it sound light-hearted, but it fell horribly flat. “I miss the team. I miss being able to smile.” He turned his head, looked at Tony. There was no point trying to hide it, anymore. “I miss us.”

Tony barely even acknowledged it. Something pained flickered over his face, just for a moment, before it smoothed out. Nothing. Blank.

Steve swallowed again. God, the silence in the palace was going to fucking kill him, soon. No one was talking. No one was saying anything, they were holding themselves up and grieving alone but Steve- Steve needed confirmation, he needed to hear people’s voices and know that they were still alive and he couldn’t bear this- “Please talk to me, Tony. Please.”

He heard the rain, pattering quietly against the window. Tony tipped his neck back and swallowed the rest of his drink. He didn’t say a word.

Steve hurled the plate against the window and watched the pieces splinter through the air, landing as barely more than a pile of ceramic dust on the floor. That, at least, made Tony react. He jumped in his seat and turned to look, somewhat surprised, at Steve.

“You’re not the only one who lost shit, you know,” Steve hissed at him, fists clenches at his sides. Tony kept looking at him, mouth slightly open, and they both stared at each other for a few moments, before Steve just sighed and sagged under the weight of all his grief. It was a heavy load to bear, these days.

He turned on his heel and walked out, as quietly as he’d come in. Tony didn’t call him back. Steve hadn’t expected him to either.

Except later that night, Tony turned up outside his door.

Still pale. Still gaunt and dull. His eyes didn’t shine in the way they’d used to. But he was still there. And although Steve hadn’t found out why yet, the fact he’d been sought out at all was… it was comforting. Just the slightest bit.

Tony stared at him for a long moment. Then he looked down. “I don’t think either of us should be spending the nights alone right now,” he murmured quietly, and if he concentrated hard enough, Steve could hear the nervous beat of his heart just under the pulse in the other man’s neck.

Steve opened his mouth and gaped. Tony hadn’t spoken to him since arriving back on earth with Nebula. He hadn’t even touched Steve. He’d just assumed that the earlier display had simply been a moment of weakness and grief, in which he’d have been happy for anyone to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay.

And yet here he was.

“Okay, no, I get that,” Tony backtracked- he was backtracking, fuck, Steve realized how long he’d been silent for- “that’s… sorry, I just know you don’t like to be alone and you didn’t seem okay earlier- but it’s okay, I’m okay-“

Steve wrapped his hand around Tony’s waist and pulled him through his door, shutting it with a soft click. They were both left in darkness, save for the bright blue glow of Tony’s reactor under his T-shirt.

They both looked at each other. Tony’s eyelashes were as long as they had ever been, and his eyes still just as haunted. Just as grief-stricken.

To this day, he was still the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen.

He fell forwards, into Tony’s arms. Wrapped his hands around Tony’s back, pulled him in close, buried his head into the strong shoulder and took a deep, shaking breath. Tony smelt like home. And he was older, now- new stress lines covered his face, and there was more gray in his beard and his hair, but God, Steve wanted him so badly it hurt. He always had. He was still just baffled that he’d even managed to be lucky enough to have Tony survive at all. Barely anyone else he loved had.

“What are we going to do?” Steve asked helplessly, because it had been three weeks since Thanos, 2 weeks since Tony had arrived back home, and no one had moved. It was like the fight had just run out of everyone. No one had anything else left to give, and usually it would have been Tony or Thor or Steve to boost their morale, to get them believing again, but now…

Everything just seemed so hopeless.

Tony kissed his cheek and then kept his face there, pressed into the side of Steve’s jaw. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know, Steve.”

They held on to one another in the darkness.

*

Tony was tracing things into the skin of his arm in bed again.

It almost felt normal. Like it had been 2 years ago, where it was just them, happy, together. Except it really, really wasn’t.

“Strange saved me,” Tony told Steve, who was only half awake. It was sometime in the very early morning- the tiniest sheen of pale light was starting to fill his room, but dawn was still a long way off yet. “He said it was the only way. That we were in the endgame now. And then he turned to dust like the rest of them.”

Steve remained silent, but he opened his eyes and turned his head, letting it rest on the pillow next to Tony’s.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Tony continued, voice still so quiet, so uncharacteristically monotone. “Over and over and over in my head. I can’t leave that place. My body came back, but my mind- it’s still up there. Still trying to work through what happened.”

The silence was longer, this time. Steve watched Tony’s eyes fix intently onto his bicep, the fingers that had been tracing mindless patterns suddenly spasming and then settling down, heavy on his arm. He was biting his lip hard, too hard, and Steve raised a thumb to his mouth and pressed gently to stop it.

Tony shut his eyes. “It’s me. I’m the… he wanted me alive for some reason. He needed Thanos to take the time stone. He orchestrated this because he saw, and whatever he saw… apparently, my survival was necessary for it to succeed.”

Steve sat up, then. He looked at Tony, long and hard. “Wait,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Are you saying- do you mean that there’s a way to fix this?”

Tony breathed in sharply and sat up too, but he turned away from Steve and hunched in on himself. “I don’t know,” he whispered, “maybe.” His mouth twisted into a broken grin, and he shook his head self-deprecatingly. “But I don’t think I’m strong enough to do it.”

Steve reached out to him and settled a hand on his shoulder. His thumb swept across the warm skin there, and he smiled. It was probably the closest thing to a real one he’d got to in months.

“Tony, there is absolutely no one else on this earth who I have more faith in than you.”

Tony looked over to him, and his own smile was just sad. “Wouldn’t hold your breath on that one, Cap.”

*

Some days it just hit him. How ruined everything was.

Tony wasn’t talking again. Thor had stopped eating, and no one could change his mind just yet. The whole world was still in all its ruins. None of them were doing anything. None of them had the strength to, just yet. Everything had fallen into anarchy, and fuck what Thanos had said, this wasn’t balance, this was chaos-

Steve’s wall gained four new holes, and he didn’t sleep at all that night. All he saw when he closed his eyes were the ashes of his friends, blowing through the wind.

*

“Steve.”

He looked up and saw Tony. The man was breathing heavily, and at first, Steve almost jumped up and prepared for the next fight, the next battle- but something about the way Tony was standing made him doubt it was about that.

“What?” He asked, reshuffling the pile of rubble in his arms that he’d been in the process of clearing away and turning to face him properly. He noticed, absently, how thin Tony was now. He was only wearing a tight shirt and some sweatpants, and Steve could almost see the outline of his ribs against his chest-

“I know how to fix this.”

Steve’s heart jumped right into his throat, and he dropped the pile in his arms instantly. He felt like the air had just stopped coming. “What- what do y-“

“The multiverse,” and Tony was grabbing his shoulders, he’d got within touching distance in the space of a few seconds and Steve had been too vacant to even notice- “Wong told me about it when I took a trip back to New York- he told me… there’s more than one universe. More than one version of reality. I.. if there’s a way, to get back to a moment in time where- where Thanos has the gauntlet, has all the stones, but we manage to get it off him in time, then-“

“Then we can use it for ourselves,” Steve finished, slow and steady and hesitant. He was too worn for hope. He didn’t want to feel it just yet. But the way Tony was nodding at him, the way his eyes were just beginning to flash with, with something other than guilt and loss- it was enough to send the spark running through Steve’s spine anyway.

He clutched Tony’s arms and shook him a little. “How strongly do you believe this is going to work?” He asked, voice tight.

Tony stopped, and his jaw clenched. “I don’t know. But I’m willing to try anything to get Peter back, so I don’t really care, either.”

Steve nodded. He looked down at Tony; the determined set of his mouth, the sharpness in his eyes that he hadn’t seen in months and months and months, back again with vengeance. Tony really believed in this. And that… that was worrying. Because Steve could already see that it was going to be dangerous. And he was terrified of how much exactly Tony was willing to risk for this.

But it wasn’t as if he could stop him now, was it? They had half a universe to save.

“Okay.” He nodded slowly at first, before growing more enthusiastic. “Okay, alright, well… where do you want me?”

Tony breathed out slowly, and when he looked at Steve next, there was tiny, nervous, real smile on his face. “Next to me, preferably,” he responded, his hand rising slowly and then circling Steve’s wrist. It was tentative- everything they did was tentative, like they still didn’t know where exactly they stood with one another- but Steve responded by covering those fingers with his own, and smiling back.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “I think I can do that.”

*

Wong was chanting something, and he’d been doing that for nearly ten minutes as Steve, Tony and what was left of the team all waited around in the ruins of the Sanctum of New York.

Him and Tony were the ones going back. It was too dangerous for the whole team- too much to lose. And Tony was under the impression that no one else but Steve was currently up to the challenge, either. Steve quietly agreed. Thor didn’t stand a chance, not in the state of mourning he was currently in. Natasha and Bruce just didn’t have the skillset and durability that was needed for what they were about to do, and Steve was unwilling to ask any of the Wakandans to lose any more than they already had.

It was down to Steve, and to Tony.

Something red crackled in the air in front of Wong, and both Steve and Tony tensed up as the circle of magic got bigger and bigger, until it was a swirling mass of kinetic energy and magical force. Wong looked to them, and his face was stern, serious. “I can only keep this portal open for a finite amount of time. Twenty minutes, at the most. So I’ve sent you to the closest point you’re going to get to him when he’s got all the stones. But be warned- you die there, you don’t wake up here. You don’t get back to the portal in time, you stay there. That’s how this works. It’s a tunnel, not some magical elastic band that pings you back.”

Steve looked at Tony, who simply nodded once and then covered his face with the nanotech faceplate. Steve swallowed and hiked his shield- the good shield, the real shield- further up his arm.

Tony turned his head to Steve, and then suddenly the eye slits drew back, and Steve was looking straight into hazel brown, intense and focused on him and him alone.

“Together?” He asked, voice quiet as he stretched out a hand.

Steve looked at it, and then curled his fingers lightly around Tony’s. “Together,” he agreed.

And then they both stepped forward and were submerged in red light.

*

Wakanda burned.

Tony looked at Steve, and then back into the treeline. “Fuck, whereabouts are we?” he yelled, ducking as a pile of debris soared over their heads.

Steve turned, trying to get his bearings. He knew the battle plan- he knew where everyone would be, and Tony didn’t because he hadn’t been there. Up ahead, through the breaks in the trees, he could see the city of Wakanda. They were in the forest where Vision had died. Where Thanos had come and snapped his fingers.

History was repeating itself, universe after universe after universe, and Steve felt sick to his very core.

“Come on, Cap, don’t freeze up!” Tony shook his shoulder and turned him around to face the iron man suit, and then he pulled back the faceplate. Tony’s face was full of sharp lines and determined grimaces, and Steve knew, right there and then, that Tony was not coming back unless it was with that gauntlet. There was too much at stake for them to have the option of losing.

More importantly- for Tony, anyway- the life of a seventeen year old boy hung in the balance. And Steve got the feeling that Tony would burn this whole planet to the ground for the chance to get that kid back home.

He nodded his head and looked up- just as he saw the version of himself sprinting past them, through the leaves and the branches, jumping over trees with an air of utter mania about him that Steve hadn’t even realized he’d been possessing at the time.

“He’s going to Vision,” Steve said, pointing his finger at his past self. “And that’s where Thanos is going to be, too.”

Tony watched him go, and then nodded, putting the faceplate back down. “We stay back. We can’t interfere until the last moment, Steve, you understand? We can’t. Thanos has to be weak enough to be unable to resist. And that can only happen when Thor comes for him.”

Steve knew what he was saying. You can’t save them.

He closed his eyes and nodded. “Then let's walk slow. I don’t… I can’t watch it all happen again.”

Tony was silent for another moment, and then he nodded. Steve heard the sound of repulsors cutting out, and Tony landed back on Earth with a small thud. Then there was the metallic clinking of the faceplate coming off again, and when Tony pressed his hand to Steve’s jaw, it was skin and bone. No metal.

Steve smiled. “That armor really is swell,” he said.

When he opened his eyes, Tony was actually laughing. “Yeah. It is, isn’t it? I must admit, I’m rather proud of it myself, actually.”

They began walking, both of them keeping their heads firmly tilted away from the battle. Steve tried to pretend that the screams were only in his head, that they were just memories, but the fact was that he was watching this happen all over again. People were dying, and there was nothing he could do.

“Is this the sort of thing it was like up there?” Steve asked softly, pointing a hand in the general direction of space. “I never really asked what happened. How did it-“

“There weren’t many people,” Tony told him, looking forward rather than at Steve. “Just me and Steven Strange, and Pete. And then a group of alien do-mostly-gooders who swung by to help. We fought on a dead planet. We almost had him, you know?” He kicked a branch viciously and shook his head. “Goddamn Quill, letting his emotions ruin things like that. But then again, who am I to talk? Grief really is a blind motherfucker.”

Steve couldn’t say he knew exactly what he was talking about, but he jostled their shoulders together comfortingly anyway. Tony just nodded, jaw clenched once more. Steve worried about the state of his teeth, he did that so much these days.

“I didn’t expect to live when we all lined up there,” Steve filled the silence with his own words, tilting his head toward the hill they’d all stood on three months ago. He looked at it because he couldn’t help it- there were bodies strewn all across the grass, now. “I didn’t really care, either. I’d already lost home. My life was lived on the run. There wasn’t much meaning to any of it anymore. I thought, you know, I might as well go out with a bang, huh?” He laughed, shaking his head. “But I didn’t. I survived. And I think that’s worse.”

When he looked back at Tony, there was something in the other man’s eyes that just let Steve knew he was acutely aware of everything Steve had just said. That he understood. That he felt the same.

“When we get back,” Tony said- when, not if, because that’s not how Tony worked, “we’re going to fix this. Us. Everything. We’ve lived life unhappily for too long. Both our faults, ‘cause we’re too stubborn to back down. But Steve… I’m not half as good at anything as I am when I do it next to you. And that’s the truth.” He looked down,  blinking rapidly and then swallowing visibly in front of Steve, like he was actively trying to force the emotion back down.

“How do we plan on fixing it, then?” Steve asked him.

Tony paused for a moment, and then turned back to face him. “Move back in. All of you. Back to the compound, back home. I’m tired of missing you. You’re tired of missing me. Let’s just… forget it. We’re gonna need eachother, after this.” He raised a dry eyebrow. “You know the nightmares aren’t going to stop. But both of us slept better when we were together. Everything else- well, we can just work from there, can’t we?”

Steve looked over to Tony- his Tony, so beautiful and brave and always thinking of the future, of the next move, of the day when they’d get peace. When Steve looked at him, he saw something worth sticking around for. Something to hold on to. And it wasn’t the answer, it wasn’t perfect by a long shot, they still had some major things to work through but-

It was a start.

There was a sudden rumbling sound, and then both Steve and Tony stumbled backward as a shockwave ripped through the air. Steve was on his feet instantly though, knowing exactly what it was, and he pulled Tony up with him. “Wanda,” he said quickly, “she’s just… she’s just killed Vision. We don’t have much time.”

Tony’s faceplate came down again. “Well, better get jogging then, Rogers,” he declared, before firing up the boots and spiralling into the air. Steve followed Tony’s suggestion and got running, leaping over the trees and upturned branches in order to reach the heart of the explosion. They both knew the plan. They just had to succeed in it, and then it’d all be fine.

This was going to work.

Steve spotted them first. The huge figure of Thanos, the blackened, charred earth where Vision had laid. Wanda, curled up and broken at his feet. It made Steve seethe, to see this all over again. He wanted to go over there and rip him apart, limb from limb.

But he knew he couldn’t. He had to wait.

And up high, through the ceiling of leaves and trees, he saw the red and gold armour, waiting for the perfect time. Steve glanced down at the stopwatch he’d begun as they’d stepped through- ten minutes remained. They were cutting it fine as it was. They couldn’t afford mistakes, here.

He watched Thanos rip the stone from Vision’s head, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Up above, he saw Tony make a movement, and for a second Steve’s heart fell down to his toes, because he thought Tony was going to blow cover. He’d forgotten that Vision meant something to Tony. That he treated him like his own- because really, he was. He was part of JARVIS, and therefore an extension of Tony himself.

And he’d just watched him die.

But Tony didn’t. He pulled himself back and remained covered, and Steve breathed out a sigh of relief at the same time he heard the thunder crackling through the air.

This was their chance. Now or never.

He watched as Thor’s axe came down in a blaze of glory that only the God of Thunder could ever have pulled off. He smiled in vicious satisfaction as it went straight into the Titan’s chest.

And then he dived forward.

Tony was already going, up ahead, arcing down gracefully and turning the arms of his suit into some sort of… scythe, and then swinging them around just as he reached Thanos’ neck. Steve watched Thor give a small yell of surprise, but Tony ignored it, instead focusing on putting all his power into trying to relieve Thanos of his head.

He didn’t succeed. Thanos was still wearing the gauntlet, and it strengthened him. But it still did the damage intended. Thanos was distracted, and definitely in a lot of fucking pain. Steve’s shot was now.

Silent and fast, he sprinted forward and dove for the gauntlet. Tony kept hitting and hitting, and Thanos, already weakened by the rather large gap in his chest, simply knelt there and took it in shock. Steve got his hands on the glove and, with all the might his body possessed, he pulled.

There was a second or two when Steve thought that it wasn’t going to be enough. But then something gave way, and suddenly Steve was stumbling back; the heavy weight of the gauntlet in his hands, as opposed to the Titan’s. He looked at it in mild surprise.

He really hadn’t expected that to work.

Thor was staring at him in bewilderment, and then he heard a yell from the left. He turned, and spotted… himself. Looking at him with extreme confusion, and too much suspicion for Steve to feel comfortable with.

“What the Hell?” The other universe’s Steve whispered, just as Tony grabbed the gauntlet in one hand and Steve in the other, and then took off with such a burst of speed that it made Steve’s head spin.

Steve glanced at his stopwatch. Four minutes. Fuck, they were running out of time-

“STOP WHERE YOU ARE!”

That was Thor. Oh, God, that was Thor- they really hadn’t thought this part through. Steve turned his head and spotted the god behind them, flying through the air with lightning trailing in his wake, anger and fury and pain embedded into his features. Steve got the feeling that the man wasn’t going to be in a gaming mood just then.

“Put a bit of juice into it, Tony!” Steve yelled, just as Thor roared and sent off a wave of electricity their way. Steve clenched his eyes shut and braced for the impact- but it never came.

They’d stopped moving in the air, and yet no blow was coming.

He opened his eyes slowly. Tony was keeping them both hovering twenty feet above ground, and he had one arm curled around Steve’s waist, and the other-

“Fuck,” Steve breathed, “fuck, Tony, you’re-“

“Yep,” Tony bit out in reply, clenching his fist around the infinity gauntlet and then trying to balance it as pure energy spiked from within. “Figured it was the fastest way to stop a confrontation with Thor.”

He’d constructed some sort of… energy field, or barrier of some sort, and Thor was currently beating against it with his axe, but to no avail. The gauntlet wouldn’t yield for it. The gauntlet wouldn’t yield for anything.

Tony was now the most powerful being in all the universe.

“Shit on a stick,” Tony cursed rapidly and in a few different languages, before checking the stopwatch in Steve’s hand. 2 minutes, eighteen seconds.

“Sorry buddy, no time to explain,” Tony said, looking over to Thor and shrugging. “We’re not bad guys though, I swear. Just a different universe’s good guys, who need a piece of this to win.” He shook his gauntleted fist in the air and then yelped when it sent out red flumes, which turned the trees and foliage into nothing more than numbers and figures for a moment before fading back to normalcy. Reality stone, Steve guessed.

Thor banged against the field, but Tony was already backing away, taking Steve with him as he went. Steve caught sight of the red light they’d stepped through earlier, and he pointed it out to Tony urgently, suddenly realizing what was happening. What they’d just done.

They had the infinity gauntlet.

There was hope. Oh, God, there was actually-

“You’ll die if you use it, Stark!” Thor yelled, and he didn’t sound angry, he sounded… sad. Steve wondered if he knew what was happening. Who Tony and Steve were. Thor was so much cleverer than any of them gave him credit for.

Tony stopped in the air, barely even five feet from the portal. He turned around, and released the faceplate again, just for a moment. There was that sad smile again. “And I’ll save everyone else,” he said, and before Steve could even fully process the words, Tony was saluting with the gauntlet and diving backward, through the red streams of light, back into their own world.

They landed with a rather anticlimactic thump.

He blinked, eyes getting used to the darkness of the Sanctum as opposed to the harsh light of the flame and daylight and lightning from seconds ago. There was yelling all around them, and he looked up just as Wong shut the portal with a snap of his hands.

He reached out for Tony, and came up empty.

“It’s alright, Steve,” came the familiar electronic voice, and he looked directly upward and saw the Iron Man suit hovering above them all, looking right down at him. “We’re good. We made it.”

Steve sat up. “What did Thor mean, about you dying?” He asked.

The room was full of silence. Tony’s felt the loudest.

“What did Thor mean, Tony?” Steve asked again, getting to his feet and looking at the suit, at the cool blue haze which covered Tony’s eyes.

Until he wasn’t. Until the faceplate was off, and Steve was getting the full frontal assault of Tony’s face, Tony’s sad smile, the resigned draw of his eyebrows.

The penny dropped.

“No,” Steve shook his head, “no, this wasn’t what we agreed.”

“This was always what we agreed-“

“No, we agreed we’d save the universe and then go home, Tony. You and me. Five minutes ago, you remember that conversation we literally just had?” He yelled frantically, shaking his head again because no way was this happening, he’d just lost everything, he wasn’t going to lose Tony too-

“I have to do this, Steve,” Tony said quietly, before tugging his shoulder up a fraction. “And it might not kill me. We don’t really know anything about the stones, and what they can d-“

“Tony, do not do this,” Steve ordered harshly, pointing a finger up at him, before adding on desperately, “I just got you back. Tony, I just… we lost so much, but I had you, and I can’t- you can’t leave me now, it’s not fair, I just want something I love to stay, just once, why can’t you just…” He choked on the air that refused to come, hiccupping and then slapping a hand up to his mouth in despair. Tears were slipping down his face and he did little try and stop them because there was just no fucking point, no fucking point in anything, it didn’t last, not for him, not ever for him-

“Steve.”

He looked up and saw that Tony had moved. He was right in front of Steve now, armourless, and his hand curled slowly around Steve’s jaw, stroked across the sharp jut of his cheekbone. He looked so much older than he had when Steve had first met him. There were so many new scars, marks of time. He was a masterpiece in every right.

Tony looked up at him, and his thumb brushed the tear that slipped across Steve’s cheek. “I have never stopped loving you. And I never will.”

Then Tony leaned forward and kissed him. Before Steve could say it back. Before Steve could persuade him to just calm down, let Steve try first, something other than this-

Tony snapped the fingers covered by the gauntlet, and there was a flash of blinding light and then- and then-

Tony sagged forward, into Steve’s arms.

*

“No, no, no. no, no, no-“

He sunk to his knees, Tony’s body cradled into his chest. He buried his head into the hair that smelt like metal and sandalwood and home.

*

Then Tony took a breath.

*

Everyone came back.

One by one, person by person appearing in their masses from dust that flew through the wind, each atom being patched back together with the utmost precision. There had been no faults. No terrible mistakes made in the remaking process. Everyone that Thanos had unmade became whole again.

Bucky.

Sam.

Wanda.

T’challa.

Most.

There were the few who hadn’t made it into the criteria. Tony explained, later, that he had to make a cutoff point somewhere. He’d said it through tears and a bottle of scotch, that he’d asked for the half of the universe Thanos had removed to be put back and nothing more.

“There was too much power in that,” he’s whispered, whilst curled into Steve’s side. “I wanted to save everyone. I could’ve stopped the wars. Stopped hunger and made world peace. I could’ve done whatever I wanted. But I didn’t. And it’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

Steve understood.  There were going to be many things that haunted them. This was just another point in a long, long list.

The reunions were good, though. Steve hugged Bucky like his whole life depended on it, then Sam too. He patted Groot on the shoulder and shook hands with Doctor Strange, and didn’t even scowl when the man winked at Tony. And then Peter Parker had arrived, and Tony had- well, he’d grabbed Peter and embraced him in such a crushing hug that even the enhanced boy had choked a little. Both of them ended up crying. Tony had apologized, over and over and over, until Peter managed to drown him out with his own apologies, and then Tony had told him off for saying sorry, and… yeah. Steve didn’t really understand their dynamic, but he figured he was probably going to get the chance to learn about it. And that thought was enough to make his head spin on its own.

Everyone was just full of joy, in those days afterward. Because they’d won. Because they’d beaten Thanos, they’d fixed everything, and it was back to normal.

Well. Mostly.

“Nice view, huh?” Tony spoke up from behind Steve, and he turned around and watched the other man approach him on the rooftop, hands in his pockets and shades perched on his nose. Steve smiled instinctively, leaning back against the rails and folding his arms as he watched Tony approach.

“Not too bad, no,” Steve said with a small raise of his eyebrow as he made a show of looking Tony up and down.

Tony laughed, and as he got closer to Steve he held out his hand. Steve reached out and took it, pulling him in close and then kissing him soundly.

Yeah. After the war, things had been kinda put into perspective for them. No more messing around. No more secrets. Ever. Steve figured that life was a little too short to miss out on the things you love.

Tony rested his head against Steve’s neck and kissed his throat gently. His hands played up and down Steve’s own in the way they always did, and Steve embraced every moment of it. Because it was… it was happiness. For the first time in so, so long.

“I’m so glad you came home,” Tony whispered, whilst Steve swayed them gently and watched the rays of burnt orange sunset splay across Tony’s skin.

“I’m just glad you let me,” Steve answered, kissing the top of his head and shutting his eyes. “I never stopped wanting to. I never thought I deserved the chance to, either.”

Tony laughed, and it was soft and lovely. “Well, you’re about 76 blowjobs away from making it up to me, which was way better than the place you were at when we started, so I’d say you’re not doing too badly for yourself at the moment, Rogers.”

Steve smiled, because these days he really did that. So did Tony. Everyone did, in fact- even on the harder days. Because there sure were harder days. They’d been through way too much for there not to be. Sometimes Tony woke up crying, and no matter what Steve tried to convince him, nothing except calling Peter himself and hearing his voice would ever convince him that the kid was still alive. There were days when Steve couldn’t stop checking the satellite feeds, the SHIELD reports, the data servers on every intelligence agency known to man just in case Thanos or the gauntlet came back. Even though both of those things didn’t exist any more. Thanos was dead, and the gauntlet had been wished out of reality by Tony. That didn’t make any of the trauma easier to process, though. Didn’t make the paranoia go away.

The job certainly came with baggage.

But they were still here. Despite everything, Tony was in his arms, and he was safe. They were all safe. Maybe it was only until the next global disaster came along, but hey, when it did, at least they’d be together this time.

And like Tony’d said- neither of them were half as good at anything as they were when they were doing it next to each other. So the whole saving-the-world Schtick? It’d be a piece of cake as long as he had Tony there to fight with him.

“I love you,” Steve said into his hair, before moving his head and kissing his temple, long and slow. “And I’m never gonna stop being pissed about the fact you didn’t let me say that back before you went and almost killed yourself with that damn gauntlet-“

Tony groaned, leaning away and tilting his head to the sky. “Oh God, Rogers, let that go, I was trying to ease your woes a little with a nice goodbye kiss, what’s so wrong with th-“

“Uh, did you forget the fact that I thought you were dead, maybe? Which is a slight issue for me, Steve Grant Rogers, the man who is, was and always will be in love you.”

Tony laughed, but it petered out after a second, and left Tony looking at Steve seriously. There was something vulnerable in his eyes. “You sure about that ‘always’?” He asked, only half-jokingly.

And Steve thought about it. Thought about what it would be, to love Tony forever. He’d get to celebrate anniversaries. Grow old together. Retire to a quiet place and live in peace, with one another, whilst Tony undoubtedly continued to tinker with anything and everything he came across, because that just wasn’t a thing that faded with age.

He thought of The War, and the war before that which had torn the team apart. He thought of the emptiness he’d felt when Tony had been gone and the realization that he only had himself to blame for it. He remembered the gaping, vast sadness. The loss of a home.

It was never, ever something he wanted to experience again.

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” Steve told him firmly, before leaning down and kissing him with too much teeth, because he was so busy smiling.

Tony’s kiss in return was just as bad, though, so Steve wasn’t going to worry too much about it.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," Steve told him, laughing brightly as he leaned down and picked Tony up, spinning him around effortlessly. Tony yelped in surprise, and his hands went to Steve's shoulders as he held on tight. "I hope you goddamn know that, Tony Stark."

He set him down on the railings of the rooftop, and Tony leaned backward easily, knowing Steve had hold of him. It was the things like that that meant so much- the easy trust. If Steve let go, he'd fall- but Steve would never let go, and Tony had finally started to understand that. It had taken work ( a lot of work A lot of lot of work). But like he'd said before- both of them were stubborn sons of bitches, and they'd gone and powered through it. They'd come out the other end, and they were better for it. 

"I know," Tony curled his hands around Steve's neck, played with the hairs on the back of his head that peeked out from the collar of his coat. His forehead knocked against Steve's, and they kissed softly. "I'm glad we made it here."

"I'm glad we're alive."

"I'm glad Thanos didn't manage to kill half of the universe."

"I'm glad they renewed Brooklyn Nine-Nine."

"... irrelevant, yet equally important."

"I'm gonna level with you babe, I temporarily forgot the higher-up things on the list that of things I was glad about." Steve laughed happily and then flicked his eyes over to the view just behind Tony, of the orange sun settling slowly under the line of fir trees and oaks that lined the Avengers compound. The sky was tinted yellowy pink, and it just looked so...

"Peaceful, isn't it?" Tony kissed his cheek and then turned around, looking at it alongside Steve. 

They were silent for a moment; both of them simply taking in the view in an awed kind of silence, heads held high, proud. This sunset was because of them. Because of Tony. He'd wielded the gauntlet, he'd brought everyone back from a place where there should never have been any coming back from. But try telling Tony Stark something is impossible, and he'll have a solution for you by the end of the night, purely to prove you wrong. It was infuriating and brilliant in every way, and it had saved them all. Nearly killed Tony himself, mind you (and no, that was something Steve would not forget for a long, long time), but not quite. Against all odds, they were both here. Alive.

And Thanos was most certainly not, so that was definitely something to be pleased about.

They'd survived the war, and now humanity got to see another sunset. The scars on the planet were deep and messy, people would not be forgetting the trauma of this for a long while yet- but they were here. And humans were resilient fucks, that Steve knew without a doubt. They'd march on. They always did.

As for Tony and Steve? Maybe they were a little more broken than most. Their wounds ran deeper; some visible, some not. All the Avengers had them. And they'd probably never heal. Steve wasn't a fool- he knew that the sort of things that Tony and Thor and he had been through were not things you just forgot. Not ever.

But they had each other. For the first time in years, they had each other again. And maybe, this time, that would be enough.

Steve really hoped so. 

"We made it," he whispered, one hand pressing over Tony's heart, and the other curling around the back of his neck. "We really made it." 

Tony looked down at him, and he smiled. Steve would never get over the feeling of having that directed his way. "We did," he replied as he leaned up and kissed Steve's forehead. "I knew we would. Soon as I came back to you, I knew we'd do it."

"How did you know?" Steve asked, brow furrowing a little in confusion. Tony just looked down at him, cocking his head and then looking back over his shoulder, toward the sunset. His hand slipped away from Steve's neck and moved to his chest where Steve's fingers sat heavy. There was a second where Tony just stroked across the skin there, but then they settled, interlocking around Steve and settling firmly with a small squeeze. 

"We were together," he explained, and his smile was a promise. "We couldn't lose."