Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony’s supposed to be resting. That’s what the doctors keep telling him, and Pepper is on their side, infuriatingly. He barely has any contact with the outside world, supposedly on the assumption that constantly trying to work wouldn’t be good for his recovery. What they don’t seem to understand is that being cut off is making him anxious, which really doesn’t help with resting in any capacity, whether it’s sleeping, sitting still, or just breathing around broken ribs.

He spends most of his time in Rhodey’s room, both to keep an eye on Rhodey and his doctors and because it helps keep him calm to have Rhodey around. He suspects Rhodey knows it, and puts up with him even when he’s anxious or despondent or restless. Rhodey kindly doesn’t nag him too much about sitting still and resting, either because he understands why that’s practically impossible for him, or just because he pities him enough to leave him alone.

Rhodey’s the only person who knows the whole story, everything that happened in the last few weeks. More specifically, everything that happened in Siberia. Tony hasn’t told Pepper, not wanting to burden her with that—or admit his own faults, the way he lost himself in his grief, show all his soft spots to her and run the risk that she’ll hurt the vulnerable bits inside—and also just too emotionally raw and exhausted to repeat the story.

Things still feel tentative with Pepper. She’d been there when he’d woken for the first time after Siberia, her eyes red and wet and looking like she’d been by his bedside the entire two days he was unconscious. Pepper wasn’t a crier, and it was strange to see her there, when they were on a break. Tony blames the grogginess for him mumbling his thoughts out loud, which Pepper picked up on and ended up sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning down to lay her arms over his shoulders in the closest approximation to a hug she could manage without hurting him.

She’d told him that their “break” had always been just that, that they needed a little time away from each other to figure out what they really needed from the relationship. She insisted that both of them had made mistakes and needed something different from the other, denying that Tony alone had screwed everything up. Not that Tony believes her—him being injured has probably just worried her enough to put her reservations aside for the moment—but it’s nice to have her around now.

Pepper’s pissed enough as it is, even without knowing the details of Siberia. All she knows is that Tony went there after them, there was a fight, and he ended up abandoned in a freezing enemy bunker, nearly dead by the time Vision rescued him. She wants Steve’s head on a platter, him and Barnes, and all the others who blindly followed them. She’s never exactly liked Natasha, but after stabbing Tony in the back this time, leading in part to his and Rhodey’s injuries, Pepper doesn’t ever want to let her near either of them again.

Vision is gone. He drifted around the hospital for the first two days after Tony woke, visiting Tony and Rhodey frequently but with a quiet, withdrawn air. Both of them tried to talk to him, to tell him that they don’t blame him for anything that happened in the fights. Tony himself couldn’t avoid the empathetic pain, watching him. Vision was the one who hit Rhodey, not that it was his fault, but Tony’s intimately familiar with the awful, gnawing guilt that comes with knowing something you did hurt someone else, even if it wasn’t your intention.

And Vision was the one who came to get Tony in Siberia. Tony was long since unconscious by the time he arrived, severely hypothermic, chest crushed inside his dead suit, close enough to death himself that Vision must have been pretty damn worried. Tony didn’t know how to talk to him about that, what to say, so he just… didn’t.

After two days, Vision came to Tony to say that he needed some time to “understand himself” and process everything that had happened between the Avengers. Tony could hardly begrudge him that. Tony didn’t know if it was guilt over what had happened or what he’d seen, sadness about Maximoff turning on him, frustration over having been beaten by her, or something else. Whatever it was, Tony once again didn’t know what to say, or how to even approach the subject, so he let him go. There was a spike of shame and guilt over the undeniable relief Tony felt when Vision left—one less person to witness the aftermath of Tony being betrayed and defeated. One less person to have to try to talk to about what had happened. One less person to disappoint.

Tony’s not really supposed to be leaving his room, but the staff have given up on reprimanding him for it. They know very well he spends most of his time in Rhodey’s room, despite being warned that moving around so much and sitting curled up in the uncomfortable chair in Rhodey’s room all day will lengthen his stay. He doesn’t care. He’s never been a good patient anyway.

It also means people can easily find them both in the same place. Some for the better, like Pepper, and some for the worse. It’s been four days since Tony woke here, six since Siberia, when Ross comes striding into the room.

Tony hasn’t had any contact with him since before Siberia. He’s not sure what to expect now—he went to Siberia alone, without telling Ross, which surely pissed him off. Vision told him about the little prison break Steve staged at the Raft, which Tony knows very well must have Ross fuming, but he can’t possibly blame Tony for that, or expect Tony to have somehow stopped it. He was practically comatose.

Not that Tony would have done anything anyway. Despite what they seemed to believe, he really didn’t want to see his former teammates locked up there. Less because it was them—they were criminals, after all, they’d chosen to throw away rationality and take the violent path, leaving death and destruction behind them, even when there were peaceful alternatives available—and more because he knew the Raft was Ross’s creation and probably chock full of human rights violations.

Ross looks them over, and Tony resists the urge to stand up and try to make himself more presentable, put up a front for Ross. It wouldn’t make a difference; Tony’s not going to suddenly stop looking pathetic, with bruises coloring his face, one arm in a sling and the other covered in bandages and medical tape to keep his IV in place, and hunched over to breathe around broken ribs and a cracked sternum.

“Mr. Stark, Colonel Rhodes,” Ross starts, and Tony can already tell from his tone that there’s no love lost between them. More worrying is the slight note of smug self-satisfaction underneath his usual grim frustration. Something has happened that Ross is, at the very least, bitterly gleeful about getting to tell Tony and Rhodey about.

“General,” Rhodey inclines his head, ever respectful, but Tony can hear the note of wariness in his voice. “What brings you by?”

For just a moment, a flash of something sour crosses Ross’s face, and Tony’s stomach drops uncomfortably. “I’m here to tell you that all of your fellow Avengers,” Ross says the words with a disgusted sneer that leaves no doubt as to what he thinks of them, “have signed the Accords. They’re coming back.”

“What?” Rhodey exclaims, instantly pushing himself up in bed, but Tony loses track of what’s happening. He’s back in Siberia in a heartbeat, broken arm and ribs throbbing, choking on his own blood.

He’s freezing cold, so cold it hurts, and he’s always heard that going out because of cold is supposed to be peaceful, that you just go to sleep and don’t even know it’s happening, but they were wrong. It fucking hurts, his very bones ache and every point of skin that’s in contact with the metal of his dead suit stings like he’s being stabbed by a hundred needles. The aches in his joints build and build until he feels like he needs to move them, but when he tries, it just ignites fire along them, a terrible, burning pain that makes him want to cry out, which causes him to choke for the effort, on blood and mucus he can’t clear and whatever the hell else is sitting in his throat and lungs. The pervasive, endless cold is making him tired and lethargic, sure, but he’s panicking at the same time because he knows very well that if he goes to sleep, he might never wake up, and because he still hurts, every inch of his body is in pain but he’s too cold and broken and stuck to do anything about it.

He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. Blackout on everything, so that no one could track him. One last act of mercy, an attempted concession to his cracked friendship and broken partnership with Steve. What a mistake. Steve was the ultimate wolf in sheep’s clothing, the lying hypocrite who’d always, always been suspicious of Tony, who’d never let go of Ultron, never let him forget what his “secrets” cost the team and the world. Yet the entire time, he’d been keeping an important secret of his own. All to protect Barnes.

Tony shouldn’t be surprised. He’d always been on the bottom of Steve’s list of important people. Below all the other Avengers at the beginning. Below the additions as they came—Sam, Wanda, they immediately superseded Tony. No one on Earth ranked below Barnes to Steve, why should Tony be any different? And now he’s been abandoned, left to die in the cold slowly, painfully.

Maybe it’s what he deserves after all this, after all of his mistakes. Maybe, instead of fighting every moment to redeem himself and to finally do some good in the world, he can just… let go. If there really is anything after this, maybe, just maybe, he’s done enough good to earn himself a ticket to a better place. Maybe he can see his mother again. And if it’s as he’s always suspected, and there’s nothing waiting, nothing after death, then he’ll finally be done. He can finally be at peace.

There’s a sound filtering through the falling snow. Voices rising above the whistling wind; real ones, not just the haunting voices of all the lives lost and destroyed because of him. There’s warmth in the air around him, and it’s more than the burning pain in his bones or the fiery fingers of death finally reaching for him. The voice is a voice he knows.

It’s Rhodey, he realizes, at the same time he remembers that he’s sitting in a chair, in the hospital, and Ross is in the room talking to them. He’s not in Siberia, Vision found him and brought him back home. The bone-deep cold is just a phantom pain, the white he’s seeing is the crisp blanket wrapped around his shoulders and the blurring at the edges of his vision from the panic, and the fire in his arm and his chest are just the normal pains to be expected with healing bones and hyperventilation.

“—because of them,” Rhodey is saying. He’s pissed, Tony can tell just from the tone.

“I am well aware of that, Colonel.” That’s Ross, and it’s his voice that forces Tony to slow down, try his best to take a deep breath and will the panic and the flashback away. Ross is here and Tony can’t afford to break down in front of him. “But they’ve signed in exchange for full pardons. There’s nothing you or I can do about it—they won’t be tried for any of their crimes so long as they obey the terms of the Accords and return to being Avengers.”

Tony’s finally getting his breathing under control enough to focus on what’s being said. The words he hears want to catapult him right back into another panic attack. Return to being Avengers… No. That can’t happen. He blinks away the last of the spots in his vision and sees Ross and Rhodey staring each other down, arms crossed and both of them scowling. Thankfully, it looks like neither of them noticed his little episode. Tony will take any small mercy right now.

“The Accords are changing. They’re a work in progress,” Rhodey says. “How do their pardons work around that? We’re supposed to be meeting and discussing them before anything even becomes official.”

Ross makes another face. “That’s gone, out the window thanks to your friends’ little temper tantrum, one that destroyed an airport in Germany and killed nineteen civilians in Romania.”

“They are not our friends,” Rhodey growls, but Ross ignores him.

“What do you mean, gone?” Tony manages. Ross and Rhodey both look to him, and he hopes that the color has returned to his face, the same way he hopes that the hoarseness in his voice can be blamed on the shock of the news he’s receiving. “We had amendments in progress. There were entire sections being rewritten.”

“The UN held an emergency meeting yesterday,” Ross says, and there’s that hint of cruel satisfaction again. “The damage in Germany, Romania, and Nigeria has scared people. A lot. And that scared the UN. When King T’Challa reached out to the US government and the UN to propose a negotiation of terms for the return of those who initially rejected the Accords, the UN jumped on the chance to have them under control. They voted to create a Council and they gave it nearly complete control over the Avengers.”

Tony could swear the floor is dropping out from underneath him. This is his worst nightmare, the thing he feared the most when the Accords were proposed. That they’d be used as a punishment, a leash, instead of something to help bring structure and responsibility to superheroes. Tony had never just been thinking of the Avengers when he’d worked on the Accords. He’d been thinking of the Parker kid, and all the others like him that he knows are out there. People who might want the structure and support of a team, but who’ve been too afraid to come out publicly. Now they never will, and Tony wants to weep for the lost potential.

“And Rogers went for that?” Rhodey asks, a healthy amount of skepticism in his voice. Tony understands what he’s thinking; Rogers had rejected the Accords even when they were still a living document, when the notion of control over the Avengers was still just a distant concept instead of a concrete system. Why would he agree now?

Ross provides the answer immediately. “He had no choice. It was the only way for him and his friends to come home, particularly once King T’Challa reached out and it became clear that he was harboring them. The world might not want to go to war with Wakanda, but their place in the UN and any trade agreements were going to be on shaky ground if they were protecting wanted fugitives. I assume that he heavily encouraged Rogers and his followers to sign the Accords and accept their pardons and the concessions they were given.”

“What kind of concessions?” Rhodey says the word with the same disbelieving disgust that Ross had used earlier for Avengers.

“A say in the internal structuring of the team, and which missions they would and wouldn’t accept. A few other minor things. Mostly, they had to with Barnes. Rogers demanded he be pardoned of everything that happened both during his rampage in Romania and before, when he was the Winter Soldier. He and T’Challa submitted evidence to the UN that Barnes wasn’t himself during that time, and it was accepted easily enough. Rogers wanted a spot for Barnes on the Avengers and psychological treatment that he agreed to. He specifically asked for some system of yours,” Ross looks at Tony, “one you released to the VA in a prototype form last month. They’re just waiting for your final adjustments on that.”

Of course. That answers why Steve was willing to sign the Accords now—because it was never about them. He’d been about to sign after Romania too, until he found out that Tony had done something else he disagreed with. Because he had to be right, he had to be on top and make all the decisions, and above all else, he could never just agree with Tony. Everything he’d done had been about Barnes, from collapsing a tunnel on innocent civilians to becoming a wanted fugitive to beating Tony half to death and leaving him to die.

And now he wants to bring him back. He wants to come back, to be an Avenger again. Steve wants Tony to stand up and fight alongside him like he wasn’t stabbed in the back, and worse, he wants him to let Barnes back. To give him his BARF system, something Tony designed to help himself overcome the trauma of his parents’ deaths. Now he’s expected to hand it over to their murderer.

Tony just grits his teeth and shakes his head tightly. He can’t process all of this. He can’t deal with them coming back, and he doesn’t know what to do, but he can’t show weakness to Ross. “So what about us?” he asks, so that he has something to focus on instead of breaking down.

“You’ve already signed the Accords,” Ross tells him, “but you need to acknowledge the changes to them. Your fellows will be back in the country and to the Avengers Compound in four days. You have seven days to read over the revisions to the document and decide whether to sign again. If you don’t, same situation as before applies to you. You’ll be considered retired, done. If you take the suit out again, you’ll be considered an illegally acting vigilante and action will be taken against you.”

“That’s not what they said before,” Rhodey protests quickly. “There were supposed to be protections in place for people who didn’t want to officially join. And new ones, people who discover they’re enhanced and need training, or want a trial period with the Avengers.”

“Not anymore,” Ross says, and his satisfaction at that is obvious. He’d always hated enhanced people, feared them and wanted control over them. Tony had to fight him tooth and nail just to be sure he could get those amendments into the Accords, and now… now, apparently, it was all for nothing. “The new Council and the changes to the Accords have gotten rid of that. Anyone acting in any capacity as a ‘superhero’ must either have signed the Accords and be acting under the Council, or they’ll be considered outside the law.”

Rhodey shakes his head grimly. Tony swallows past the lump in his throat and forces his next words out. “You said St—Rogers got control over parts of the Avengers?”

Ross clearly isn’t happy about that bit. “Not much, but yes. He’s officially the leader, like before, he makes calls in the field and off, and he has the power to add and drop people from the team. The Council has veto power over that, but as long as they don’t see a problem, it’s all up to him.” Tony thinks of Wanda and he might vomit. “And he’s defined everyone’s roles within the team. Field operations, management, his second in command. He told the Council that you’re the Avengers’ tech support and designer, so now that’s written into the contracts,” he looks to Tony.

Tony has nothing to say. If he opens his mouth, he might scream, so he just sits there, stiff with horrified fury and thinking that maybe it would have been less painful if he’d drowned in his own blood in Siberia.

“What about me?” Rhodey asks, but his voice sounds distant.

“Allowances will have to be made for your… injury,” Ross says, “and you will of course be working out what to do next with the Air Force independently. But as for the Avengers, if you recover or find another way to work in your capacity as War Machine, then you’re welcome to sign as well. You’ll be operating under Rogers’s command as before.”

Rhodey looks like he might throw up too. “So we’re just letting them come back.”

Now Ross really looks irritated. “If you’d done your jobs in the first place and contained them, we might not be in this situation. But here we are.” Rhodey opens his mouth, clearly furious, but Ross cuts him off before he can reply. “Make no mistake, I’d prefer to arrest every one of them the second they step onto US soil. But this is over my head now. They’ve officially been pardoned, and they’re untouchable so long as they stay within the lines that have been drawn.”

Ross turns to Tony again. “I have no doubts that they’ll be trying to find a way around the rules. They’re dangerous and they need to be stopped, but for now, I can’t touch them. I expect you to keep a close eye on them and report to me regularly. I do not want another disaster like this one, is that clear? If they’re going to go rogue again, I want to be ten steps ahead of them.”

Tony wants to glare, to tell Ross to go screw himself, to challenge the ridiculous authority Ross seems to think he has over Tony, but he doesn’t. He’s just so tired, too tired to fight this. He doesn’t want to deal with any of it. “I can’t guarantee that,” he says, sighing. He gestures to himself and his pitiful state. “I think it’s pretty obvious what happened the last time I went up against them.”

“Well then, you’d better figure out a way to keep them under control,” Ross pronounces. It’s a command, not a request. “I’ll be expecting a report from you within the week, that or your resignation.” With that, he turns on his heel and strides from the room.

Tony doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe, until Rhodey speaks up. “Tony?”

Tony looks up at him, and the furious look on Rhodey’s face melts away at whatever he sees on Tony’s. Tony might balk at the pity from anyone else, but it’s Rhodey, and he doesn’t. He’s too tired, too utterly destroyed by the news they just received. “Come here,” Rhodey says softly, holding out a hand.

Tony’s fingers have stiffened from where he’s been gripping the sides of his chair without realizing it. He has to practically pry them apart, and moving from his hunched position, where he’s had his muscles locked with stress and pain, is just a few steps shy of agonizing. Rhodey waits patiently for him to stand and shuffle over to the bed, perching on the edge.

Rhodey puts a hand on his arm, and Tony closes his eyes, putting his face in his hands. He could cry, and he knows Rhodey wouldn’t judge him for it, but he doesn’t. He just sits there yet again, exhausted and wishing he’d just stayed in bed today. Maybe forever. That’s all he seems to be doing lately.

Rhodey waits him out, always patient. He’s put up with so much shit from Tony. He got injured fighting alongside him, and now he has to deal with this. The silence stretches on until Tony lets out a half-hysterical laugh and shakes his head, putting his hands down to look Rhodey in the eye. “I can’t do this,” he whispers.

“You don’t have to,” Rhodey replies immediately. “You don’t have to sign the new document. This isn’t what you asked for. It’s not what you wanted or what you signed up for originally. This isn’t your fault, and it’s not your responsibility to fix it.”

Rhodey believes what he’s saying. Tony envies that. He doesn’t have the same conviction, he can’t convince himself that this isn’t his fault or his responsibility. He just shakes his head. “If I don’t fix it, who’s going to? Steve will only make things worse. The rest of them, they just follow everything he does without thinking. If I don’t stay, if I don’t work on this, then it’s doomed. The whole system will fall apart.”

Rhodey takes a deep breath. “Then let it fall apart,” he says, and Tony looks to him, surprised. “If it’s that easy to break, if it’s all dependent on just one person fixing it, then maybe it needs to fall apart. Let something new replace it. Or nothing at all. You shouldn’t have to stick your neck out any more, Tony. You shouldn’t have to be the one to sacrifice everything while they just sit by and reap the rewards.”

Tony shakes his head dejectedly. “This isn’t just about me and them. It’s about the whole world. I’ve seen what’s coming, Rhodey, I know what’s out there, and I can’t just leave us with nothing. I can’t let the only defense we might have fall apart, not when there’s a chance I can fix it.”

Rhodey gives him a cautious look. “Tony, if what you’ve seen is really coming, then six or seven people aren’t going to stop it.”

“It’s all we’ve got. And it could be so much more. That’s why I can’t give up on the Accords. It’s why I have to sign and try and fix them. There are so many more people out there who could help us. But if we don’t bring them together, then it’s hopeless. If we scare them into hiding, if they can’t come together and train, plan, learn to work together, if we chase them away with a regime like this, then when the threat arrives, we’ll be useless against it.”

Rhodey just shakes his head sadly, and Tony knows he understands his point. Rhodey doesn’t have anything to say to that, because it’s true. It’s why Tony is stuck, now.

“It’s people like the Spider kid who will suffer if I don’t sign this, not to mention all the civilians out there who will get hurt.” Tony hesitates before he continues. “I could just say screw it, refuse to sign, I could take down the whole Council and whatever bull Steve has come up with. It wouldn’t be too hard. All I’d have to do is release everything to the media and the people would do it themselves.”

“So why don’t you?” Rhodey asks. There’s just a hint of exasperation in the question.

“Because then what? We’d have nothing. No system at all, and a public disillusioned with the entire idea of superheroes. No one would be planning for planetary defense, no one would be looking to the future, they’d just be pissed off at the failures we’ve had already. We could try to build something new, but it would be hard.”

“It’s going to be hard now,” Rhodey warns.

“It is,” Tony agrees, “but fixing an existing system from within is still easier than trying to build a new one from the ground up. It’s just… this is the only way it’s going to work. The only way that might have a hope of getting off the ground in time for us to actually defend the planet from what’s coming.”

Tony pauses and heaves a sigh. Saying it out loud has just confirmed all the reasons why he can’t abandon this, why he needs to sign these new, bastardized Accords and remain an Avenger. But… “I need to do this,” he repeats, “but I honestly don’t know if I can.”

Rhodey’s hand tightens on his arm and Tony presses a hand over his ribs, trying to keep the breath to say what he needs to say. This is the most he’s spoken in days and his chest is giving him hell for it. “I can’t look Steve in the eye again and pretend everything’s okay. I can’t let him bring Barnes back, work with him, live in the same place as both of them and actually fight alongside them. It’s not going to work. I won’t ever trust either of them in the field. No matter what happens, I’ll never trust Steve again, and it’s going to be a problem. I can avoid them around the Compound if I have to, but if the Council wants us to hold hands and go out in public and pretend we’re all friends, I can’t do that.”

This time the shaky breath he lets out is something close to a sob. “Rhodey, I have to stay, but I can’t work with them. What—what am I supposed to do?”

Rhodey pulls him in, wraps an arm around his shoulders and rests his chin on the top of Tony’s head. “I don’t know, Tony,” he says, a world of regret and pain in those words. “I honestly don’t know.”

There’s a few moments of silence in the room. Tony tries to come up with something reassuring to say, something less depressing, and he knows Rhodey is doing the same, but he’s got nothing. Nothing to make this situation better.

The ringing of a phone disturbs his morose thoughts. Rhodey breaks apart from him and they both look to the rolling table beside the bed. Rhodey's phone, which he’d put on “do not disturb” days ago, is lit up, loudly playing the ringtone that Tony uses on his own phone for Rhodey’s calls alone. Rhodey doesn’t use that song at all.

They exchange a glance. Maybe it’s a little malfunction, but it’s a Starkphone, and they don’t have glitches like that. Even if they did, it’s a little too suspicious. Someone has hacked Rhodey’s phone and is trying to get Tony’s attention. And to do it, whoever it is must not only know the ringtone that Tony uses for Rhodey and somehow have access to Rhodey’s well-protected personal phone, but also know that Tony is currently in the room with him.

Tony waits for a few more seconds, torn, before he makes a decision and reaches for the phone. Rhodey gives him a warning look, but he ignores it. It’s just a phone, just a call. Whoever it is, whatever they say, they shouldn’t really be able to harm him. The thought crosses his mind that anyone with enough skill or power to do this might very well be able to do more, but he dismisses it. Maybe Ross’s announcement has made him reckless. He doesn’t have anything good to look forward to anyway, not any more.

He answers the call, and before he can bring the phone up to his ear, it emits one brief, blindingly bright burst of light and then goes dark. Tony blinks, dropping the phone on the bed. Rhodey has his hands raised like it might explode, and then Tony sees something out of the corner of his eye and turns to look.

On the wall across from Rhodey’s bed is an image, something that shouldn’t be possible. There’s no screen in this room, and Rhodey’s phone, advanced as it is, doesn’t have projection capabilities quite like this. A swirling blue and green image flickers, stabilizes, and is then replaced by what appears to be a view into a bright, modern room. At the center of the screen is a young woman wearing what looks like elaborate robes and some kind of silver circlet on her head, like a character in a fantasy movie.

Tony and Rhodey just stare, frozen in place. She smiles at them.

“Mr. Stark. Colonel Rhodes.” She looks between the two of them, undisturbed by their silence and their apprehensive looks. “My name is Amilie, and I have a proposal for you.”

Chapter Text

It’s good to be home.

That’s all Steve can think as they walk back through the doors of the Compound. They’ve been away for less than two weeks, but it feels like a lifetime. Steve is exhausted and he’s just relieved to be home.

He hadn’t planned to sign the Accords, still feels a little uncomfortable with how he’d given in. He can only hope that the others don’t think that he just compromised on his morals. But he needed to protect his team, and he needed to protect Bucky, and this was the way to do that.

T’Challa had approached them a few days into their stay in Wakanda, to ask Steve what his plans for the future were. Steve didn’t have a good answer, which was what prompted the whole trouble with the Accords.

Bucky wasn’t in a good place, and he’d told Steve more than once that he’d be better off back in cryo until they could figure out what to do about the triggers in his head. Steve argued vehemently against that—he’d fought so hard to keep Bucky free and by his side, he couldn’t lose him again. He couldn’t just let him put himself back under. The problem was that the only thing he could think of to even start to help was that program Tony had been working on, the one with the ridiculous acronym.

Steve approached T’Challa to ask about it getting it to Wakanda, but T’Challa told him that Tony’s program was still in testing stages and that anyone undergoing treatment needed Tony’s personal approval and supervision. That killed that idea, so Steve asked if T’Challa’s people could come up with anything similar or even better. He knew Wakanda had some of the foremost scientists in the world, people much smarter than Tony, probably. Surely they could come up with something.

But T’Challa had looked unimpressed, telling Steve that his people were busy and that inventions like Tony’s take a long time and a lot of planning and research to design. The hint of reproach over Steve’s insinuation that T’Challa’s people could produce something better and faster than Tony was unnecessary, in Steve’s opinion.

T’Challa had asked then about what Steve and the others planned to do about their fugitive status and their current—temporary, T’Challa emphasized—stay in Wakanda. When Steve didn’t have an answer, too busy wondering whether T’Challa would be insulted enough to kick them out of the country if Steve reminded him of his promise of sanctuary and berated him for threatening to go against his word, T’Challa offered up something else.

He told them that the world had been shaken by the split of the Avengers, that people were afraid and they wanted, needed, their heroes back. The US was willing to renegotiate some of the terms of the Accords so long as there was a Council created to oversee some aspects of the Avengers—at least, that was how T’Challa put it. He emphasized that this might be the only way for Steve and his team to return to the US legally, not to mention resuming their work as Avengers. He offered to negotiate on their behalf to get pardons and work out the Accords.

Steve initially stood his ground, repeating his views on the Accords to T’Challa and telling him that there was no way his team would be signing away their freedom to something like that. But T’Challa, still in his deceptively calm manner, told Steve in no uncertain terms that they weren’t free now, and that taking this stance and refusing to compromise at all was not only childish, but hurting the very people he claimed to want to protect. Feeling scolded like a little kid, Steve was forced to reconsider.

T’Challa clearly didn’t want them staying in his country. He might even kick them out if they still refused to sign the damn Accords. And going home… it was hard not to jump at the opportunity, even if it came with the Accords hanging around their necks. They could work on them, right? That was what Tony had said back when they were first told. Natasha had said it too.

And the opportunity to go home came with the potential to help Bucky. T’Challa was clearly going to be of no help in that area, and the only other idea Steve had was Tony’s tech. If they were pardoned and came home, he could get it for Bucky. So he found himself having a discussion with the rest of the team. Helped by Natasha, who did a lot of the careful persuading, they all agreed to sign, with some stipulations that T’Challa then negotiated with the UN the next day.

Steve needed to remain leader of the Avengers, to make sure that Tony wasn’t going to try to take it from him in some fit of anger. He assigned official roles to the team members, leaving Tony where he’d always fit in best, as tech support and as-needed field help. Sam was Steve’s second-in-command; he’d asked Nat about it, not wanting to offend her by picking Sam, but she told him that she preferred operating out of the spotlight, and he agreed.

Most of Steve’s negotiation had to do with Bucky. Thinking of Tony, of all the ways he could try to punish Bucky, made Steve anxious. He hoped that Tony would realize what he’d done, why it was wrong to go after Bucky, but just in case, Steve needed to make sure that no one could touch him. He was sure to secure a pardon not just for what Bucky was forced into during the “Civil War,” but also for all of his actions as the Winter Soldier. He made sure that Bucky was officially made an Avenger and given all the same rights and privileges as the rest of them.

When T’Challa reported the new Council’s concerns about Bucky’s mental state, Steve brushed them off, confident that he could use Tony’s tech to help with the triggers. He made sure T’Challa put in a clause saying that psychological treatment of any kind needed to be approved by the Avengers leader, to avoid another disaster like what had happened with Zemo, and to make sure he could keep Bucky from being poked and prodded by a hundred doctors.

He’s still amazed that T’Challa pulled it all off, but he did, and now they’re home. They’d been pulled into some meetings with Ross—it angered Steve that the General was still in charge of so much, but perhaps something could be done about that later—that Steve barely paid attention to. Ross was droning on about their “new responsibilities,” trying to make it sound like the Council was some all-powerful body that had absolute control over the Avengers, and Steve was distracted, thinking of returning home, and of Tony.

He was both apprehensive and excited about the prospect of seeing Tony again. He hadn’t ever thought that he really liked having Tony around, but he couldn’t deny that he’d missed him in Wakanda. Or maybe he’d missed the idea of their friendship. He hated being away, having left Tony angry and heartbroken and not being able to make sure that they were okay.

He’d made a mistake, not telling Tony about his parents sooner. He couldn’t lie to himself and pretend that things might not have gone more smoothly if he had. What happened in Siberia didn’t need to happen, and it was partly Steve’s fault. But Tony had made mistakes too. He’d acted like the Avengers should automatically trust him, just blindly sign the Accords that he’d thrown at them in the name of “responsibility.” But when had he ever given them reason to trust him, or trusted them in return?

He never bothered to call during the whole Mandarin incident. All he did after Steve and Nat were forced to expose SHIELD’s information was lock himself away in his office and lab for a week and then come out looking like he hadn’t slept for any of it, glaring at them and Sam like they were somehow responsible for what HYDRA had done. There was Ultron, of course. And then the Accords, Tony getting into bed with a bastard like Ross behind all their backs and then having the gall to spring the Accords on them and act like they should just take his word for it when he said they would get better.

And maybe Tony would have reacted better in Siberia if he’d already known about his parents, but… they might never have been there at all if Steve had told him. His reaction in Siberia confirmed all of Steve’s worst fears. It would have been better if Bucky hadn’t been right there to face Tony’s wrath, but if Steve had told him earlier, he might have cut funding, kicked Steve out, even gone after Bucky anyway. Steve wants to think that Tony’s had time to realize that Bucky is a victim as much as the Starks were, but it’s also possible that Tony will still be holding a grudge.

They all file into the Compound, expecting a greeting at least, if not necessarily a welcoming committee, but it’s silent, empty. The entire place has an air of disuse, actually, even though Steve knows that Tony, Rhodes, and Vision live here, and there are a few staff who come in and out regularly.

“So, what, we’re being ignored?” Clint says. There’s an edge to his voice, something that’s been present since they got to Wakanda. Steve’s pretty sure it has a lot to do with the fact that Laura hasn’t answered any of his calls in the last two weeks.

Wanda scoffs next to him. “Good. Stark doesn’t need to show his face around here.”

Steve glances sideways at her. Behind her, Natasha is giving him a look, clearly expecting him to do something about Wanda’s anger. She’s been ranting about Tony since Germany, angry and always spitting curses. Steve doesn’t know what to say to her. He hates to see her so angry at Tony, when Steve knows that Tony was just trying to do what was right, even if he went about it in all the wrong ways. But that doesn’t change what was done to Wanda, doesn’t change the fact that she ended up in the Raft with that awful collar on.

Natasha’s expectant look changes to something like disappointment when Steve remains silent. Steve looks away, ashamed, as Nat raises her voice, addressing the ceiling. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff?” The computerized voice says, and Steve could swear there’s something almost sarcastic and biting in the tone. He must be imagining things; it’s a program, nothing more, and even if it’s one of Tony’s more sophisticated ones, he learned his lesson about AIs after Ultron. Maybe it’s just the accent.

“Are we returning to the same rooms?” Natasha asks, instead of inquiring after any of the other Avengers. Steve feels a sort of nervous energy building in him, not knowing where they are.

“Your rooms are as you left them,” FRIDAY says. “There should be fresh linens available in two of the extra rooms in your wing, for Mr. Barnes and Mr. Lang.”

Right. Steve hadn’t even thought of that, getting rooms for Bucky and Lang. He’s been assuming that Bucky will probably feel safer staying with him for a while, maybe bringing a mattress or camp bed into his room, or even sharing the overlarge bed. Which they still may end up doing, but it’s nice to have an official room for Bucky. Lang, Steve can admit, he hadn’t even thought of. Despite being seemingly unable to keep his mouth shut or his energy contained when they’d first met, Lang was very quiet in Wakanda, and he rarely spoke up during any of the negotiations to get them all back home. He signed his copy of the revised Accords quietly, quickly, without a single question.

“Additionally, Mr. Lang, your ex-wife has left a message requesting that you call her at your earliest convenience,” FRIDAY adds.

That brings some life back to Lang. “Cassie!” he says, face brightening into the first smile Steve’s seen from him in at least a week. Without acknowledging the rest of them, he bounces off in the direction of his room, his one bag slung over his shoulder.

There’s a short silence after he leaves, awkward, like none of them know what they should be doing. Despite how relieved he is to be home, it almost feels strange. Steve isn’t sure how to settle in and go back to the way things were.

At least, not without seeing Tony, reconciling, making sure they’re okay. His voice cracks just a little when he speaks up. “FRIDAY, where’s Tony?”

“Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes will be discharged from the hospital tomorrow morning.”

Steve’s heart twists at that. Both at the reminder of Rhodes’s injury, and at the thought of Tony in the hospital. How hurt was he that he’s been in the hospital until now? He was awake, moving, well enough to try one last time to hit Steve—this time with insults to his character—as Steve left the bunker with his injured best friend hanging off his shoulder. Steve had disabled the suit, yes, but Tony always had backups. No doubt he’d told Ross, maybe Vision, where he was going. There’d probably been a whole squad just minutes behind them, too slow to catch up to Tony in the suit, which was why Steve couldn’t take the time to go back and check on Tony.

Except, the nagging bit of doubt in the back of Steve’s mind reminds him, Tony had said he’d come there alone, to help them. Steve trusted that he was honest in that. And Tony had already been hurt, hadn’t he, from the fight in Germany. Steve had seen what happened to the suit when the arc reactor powering it was removed or otherwise taken offline. The suit became deadweight, difficult to maneuver and manipulate.

Steve should have gone back. Hot tendrils of shame twist his insides every time he thinks of what Sam, or Bucky, or anyone else with a military background would say if they knew that Steve had left a man behind—a friend, no less, left injured in enemy territory. Steve was just so focused on getting Bucky out, and maybe he was still too angry at Tony, too. For trying to kill Bucky when he knew he was innocent. For hitting Steve, for reacting so badly to the news… for finding out at all, blowing Steve’s carefully kept secret. Maybe it was all just selfish anger on Steve’s part, upset that Tony had found out, had called Steve on being a liar, a hypocrite who kept things from his teammates.

He just wants to get past all of this. When Tony gets home tomorrow, Steve needs to find him immediately, sit down and have a real talk. They can’t leave so much hanging between them. Tony made mistakes, he messed up and he let his own pride and ego dictate his actions and he refused to trust his team and he forced their hand, but Steve isn’t blameless either. If they can apologize to each other, clear the air, Steve knows it’ll be the first step towards really healing. Then, when he’s sure he and Tony are good, he might be able to persuade Tony to swallow his pride and apologize to the others, particularly Bucky and Wanda.

He looks around, then winces at the look on Sam’s face. Sam hasn’t forgiven himself for what happened to Rhodes, even though it wasn’t his fault. He’s been reluctant to talk about it, closed off whenever Steve tries to remind him that he’s not to blame, brushing off Steve’s concern. He hopes that Sam and Rhodes can maybe have a conversation of their own.

Clint and Wanda look utterly disinterested at the news that Tony and Rhodes are in the hospital, but Nat is watching Steve keenly. He shifts a little, not wanting to squirm under her scrutiny but knowing it’s pointless—she’s always been able to read him perfectly, no matter how hard he tries to hide things from her.

He hasn’t told her, or anyone, all the details of Siberia. She knew about the Starks too, and she left it up to Steve to decide what to do with the information. Steve has no doubt that she knew that he’d never told Tony, but clearly she didn’t either, and she’d never confronted him about it. He has no idea how much she knows, or has guessed, now, about what happened in Siberia that made Steve and Tony turn against each other, that led to Steve and Bucky coming back injured, bruised and battered and Bucky missing an arm. He wonders if she knows, and if she does, whether she’s judging him for it.

He wonders if she’d have found another way to defuse Tony in that bunker.

“Kitchen better be stocked,” Clint grumbles, finally moving and snapping the rest of them out of their thoughts. “I’m starving.”

FRIDAY doesn’t respond to Clint, probably because it was a statement, not a question, and wasn’t directly addressed to the program. Still, the kitchen has always remained stocked. Tony and Rhodes have been away in the hospital, apparently, and Vision doesn’t eat, but obviously the Compound was prepared for their return, with new rooms available for Lang and Bucky.

They all trail after Clint, moving through the ground floor to the kitchen, relaxing as they go. All the tension returns, however, when they get to the kitchen and come to an abrupt halt in the doorway. The kitchen is half destroyed, rubble scattered around and dust settled on everything in sight. In the middle of the floor is a gaping hole, as though a meteor somehow appeared right in the kitchen and crashed through the floor.

Steve just stands there staring, wondering what the hell happened. For half a moment, he tenses, wondering if this is the work of some villain, taking advantage of the weakened state of the Avengers and Tony and Rhodes’s absence to attack the Compound. It’s not until Clint crosses his arms, looking away, and Wanda throws a conflicted look at the hole that it clicks in Steve’s mind.

“What exactly did you do to get away from Vision?” he asks, incredulous. Clint just shrugs, unconcerned, but Wanda looks away guiltily. Vision seemed fine when they fought at that airport, but he was also an android, powered by an Infinity Stone, so he probably recovered faster than most. He could also handle more physical hurt than a normal person. Still, Steve hadn’t realized there had been violence involved in Clint’s rescue of Wanda from the Compound. Wanda loves Vision, Steve can’t imagine her fighting him. Putting him through the floor.

“FRIDAY, is this going to be fixed any time soon?” Natasha asks, looking around pragmatically.

“Mr. Stark would be the one to arrange for reconstruction,” the program replies, “and he has not been present in the building since before this damage was done.”

“Well, we’re here, and we need a kitchen,” Clint snaps. “So why don’t you ‘arrange’ it right now?”

“Independently consulting construction services is outside my parameters,” FRIDAY replies, and Steve could swear that the voice sounds more computerized with every word.

“We can consult them,” Nat says, “we’re Avengers. We give you permission.”

There’s a pause, then, “If you would like to select a contracting service and pay their fees, I can allow them into the Compound with your permission.”

Clint snorts. “Pay their fees? You’ve got to be kidding. Put it on Stark’s tab, he owns the place, doesn’t he?”

“That is correct, Mr. Barton. However, Mr. Stark must authorize all purchases made using his funds.”

“Don’t we have our own accounts as Avengers?” Sam asks, frowning.

There’s another pause. “There are no Avenger accounts active at this time.”

There are various noises of outrage and derision. “So that’s how Stark is going to be, huh?” Clint sneers. “Take away all our money, throw a tantrum?”

“Did you expect anything else?” Wanda says darkly, crossing her arms.

This time, Steve holds his hands up, seeing that this is going in a bad direction. He needs to talk to Tony when he comes home tomorrow, and Tony won’t be in any mood to listen if he’s immediately accosted by angry Avengers complaining about their funds being withdrawn. Steve agrees that it’s petty and ridiculous, but he can work that into the conversation.

“Hey,” he says, drawing everyone’s attention, “I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.” He ignores Wanda’s scoff and Clint’s eyeroll. “When Tony gets back tomorrow, I need to talk to him anyway. We’ll talk about it, okay? I’ll make sure everything gets set straight.” He smiles, trying to convey confidence and reassurance. He’s not sure it works, exactly, but he tries anyway.

Another awkward silence stretches on. Clint and Wanda are still obviously angry. Sam is just staring off into the distance, probably still thinking about Rhodes. Steve realizes that Bucky has been standing back, head down, just watching them all warily, not participating in the conversation. He hates how little Bucky speaks these days. Steve tries to encourage him to talk more, to voice his opinions, but it doesn’t seem to have much effect.

Finally, Nat sighs. “I’m going to order a pizza. We can just eat in the common room. This’ll take a few days at least to fix, so I guess we’ll be eating out for a bit.”

Steve straightens, nodding. “That’s a good idea,” he says, drawing everyone’s eyes back to him. “Why don’t we all go put our stuff down in our rooms before it gets here.”

Clint just rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, sure.” He turns and stomps off to his room. Steve can’t help but feel a little relieved when he’s gone, and then guilty for it. Steve can’t do anything about the source of Clint’s anger and frustration, and he’s not pleasant to be around when he’s this upset.

That might be something else to bring up with Tony tomorrow. Assuming that Tony hasn’t persuaded Laura to cut off communication—he really hopes Tony wouldn’t be that petty—Tony should be able to track her down, make sure she and the kids are safe and contact her so she can talk to Clint.

Steve turns to Bucky as Nat and Sam also leave. “Come on, Buck, you can set your stuff down in my room.”

“Thought I had my own room,” Bucky mumbles, and Steve frowns.

“Yeah, you do, but I thought you might feel safer in mine. We can share for a bit, until you’re feeling more yourself.” Steve tries to convince himself that none of this is about fear of Bucky himself, of him being triggered and rampaging around the Compound. Steve knows his best friend, knows that he’s a good guy, and wants to trust that he has control, but he just acts so different now.

Bucky’s eyes move down to the floor and he shrugs. That’s another thing that’s changed about this Bucky, how little he makes or holds eye contact with anyone, and Steve hates it. It’s a product of HYDRA’s torture, the inability to make his own choices and feel safe for so long. Just another reason why he needs to get that tech from Tony as soon as possible and work on fixing Bucky. He needs his best friend back—the real Bucky, not this shadow of him.

Bucky just trails after him silently when he moves to his room. The two new, open rooms are in the same wing, but down a different hallway. Lang has taken one; the door is shut and Steve can just barely hear the low sound of voices from inside. He must be talking to his ex-wife and daughter.

Bucky follows Steve into his room and sets his bag down next to Steve’s. He’s silent while Steve shows him the room, disengaged when Steve talks about moving another bed in for him. It’s frustrating, but Steve tries to remind himself to be patient. Bucky’s recovering, and the move from Wakanda to the Compound, where he’s never been before, is a lot of change in a short period of time. Bucky just needs to adjust.

Steve coaxes Bucky into sitting on the bed next to him, but Bucky stays tense and nervous. It isn’t helped when FRIDAY announces a while later that their pizza delivery has arrived. When the voice comes unprompted from the ceiling, Bucky jumps up from the bed and pulls a knife out—Steve has no idea where he even got a knife—turning wide eyes to the ceiling.

“It’s fine, Bucky, it’s just the computer,” Steve soothes, hands out in a peaceful gesture. Bucky slowly straightens, slips the knife away somewhere, but the haunted look doesn’t disappear from his eyes. Steve addresses the room sternly. “FRIDAY, you can’t just speak up like that with no warning.”

“I was asked by Ms. Romanoff to inform you of the delivery,” FRIDAY states. “If you would like to mute communication, you will need to specify such orders. Be aware that you may miss important announcements.” Again, if Steve didn’t know better, he could swear there was an attitude in the synthesized voice. He can’t help but be frustrated at the response, feeling like Tony’s perfectly capable of creating something that can understand nuances like what Steve’s requesting.

He decides not to fight this battle, knowing he’ll lose against a computer. Maybe it’s something else to mention to Tony. The list is getting very long very fast. Steve just shakes his head and leads Bucky back to the common room, where the others are already gathered, taking slices of pizza. Lang has joined them, evidently done with his conversation, and Steve smiles at the bright look on his face. At least someone is happy on their first night home.

They mostly eat in silence, not sure what to say to each other. This wasn’t the homecoming Steve imagined. It’s both better and worse. In his darker moments, he’d wondered if it was all a trap, if they’d be thrown in jail as soon as they got back. Even putting aside worst case scenarios, he’d thought that maybe coming home would be marred by a shouting match with Tony. When he was feeling optimistic, he’d pictured Tony waiting for them when their plane touched down, his anger forgotten and a smile and apologies offered to his returning family.

Instead, they’re alone in the Compound, not sure what to say to each other, eating delivered pizza because the kitchen is a disaster zone thanks to Wanda and Clint’s fight with Vision. Tony wasn’t here to greet them because he’s in the hospital, and Bucky is just following Steve like a silent shadow instead of settling in, being fascinated by the future or the Compound or comfortable among his new friends.

“Have you seen Vision yet?” Sam asks Wanda when they’re all done eating, sitting around unsure what to do with themselves. He’s trying to make conversation, and Steve applauds the effort, but Wanda’s face twists.

“No, I went looking for him earlier and I couldn’t find him anywhere. Have any of you seen him?” She looks around at all of them, and Steve can see the worry in her eyes.

He gives her a small smile. “He’s probably still at the hospital. I’m sure he’ll be home soon. Visiting Tony, and Rhodes, you know?” he adds when Wanda looks confused.

Wanda’s eyes narrow at that. “He doesn’t need to be visiting Stark.” She says the name like a curse. She always has. Steve’s starting to think that maybe he should say something about it. Try to be a mediator between her and Tony instead of just pushing Tony to make things right with her. She doubts Tony’s every word, not that she doesn’t have good reason, but Steve is starting to think that even if Tony offered a genuine apology, she might not believe it.

“Why don’t we just ask?” Lang says, eyes darting between Wanda and Steve. “FRIDAY, where’s Vision?”

“I am not aware of Vision’s current whereabouts,” the computer replies promptly.

Most of them frown at that. “Not aware?” Sam asks. “So, what, is he on his way home?”

“I cannot answer that question.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Clint asks, but Nat shakes her head, apparently realizing something by the narrow-eyed look she gives the ceiling.

“FRIDAY, when was Vision last in the Compound?”

“Vision was last on the premises approximately seven days and four hours ago,” FRIDAY says.

Wanda jumps up at that. “What? Where did he go?”

“I am unaware of his destination. He only informed me that he wished to, in his words, ‘rediscover his purpose’ and that he no longer felt that the Compound was a home to him. He left without providing a destination or an estimate of when, or if, he would return.”

“What?” Wanda practically shouts. The red of her powers is gathering around her hands, and Steve sees Lang get up from his seat and back away, frightened eyes trained on Wanda. Even Sam and Nat are giving her wary looks, and Steve hates that they’re looking at her like that, like she’s dangerous and they’re afraid of her.

“Wanda, it’s okay,” he tries, but she turns her furious gaze on him.

“Okay? It’s not okay! He’s gone! This is Stark’s doing, Vision left because of him!”

The look Sam gives her behind her back tells Steve exactly what he thinks of that pronouncement. The voice in the back of Steve’s head that’s been whispering uncomfortable truths to him agrees with Sam—if Vision left because the Compound “didn’t feel like home,” it probably had a lot more to do with the gaping hole in the floor than anything Tony said or did.

Steve doesn’t say any of that to Wanda. It won’t help her. Instead, he takes another step toward her, refusing to cower in the face of her red-tinged hands and eyes. “Hey, we don’t know that. We don’t know when he’ll be back,” he tries, and when that has no effect, adds, “from the sound of it, when he left, he had no idea we would be coming back. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’ll hear about our pardons. When he realizes that we’re home, that you’re home, he’ll come home too.”

Steve believes it. Wanda is the love of Vision’s life and whatever it is that made him leave, his love for Wanda is stronger. It will bring him back. Steve’s conviction seems to persuade Wanda too. She lowers her hands, the red fading away, and some of the anger slides off her face. Tears fill her eyes instead, and Steve reaches out for her, drawing her into a hug.

“I miss him,” she says into his shoulder, practically a sob.

“I know. He’ll come home to you,” Steve whispers back. He aches for her, coming home to find her love gone. She’s still a kid, inexperienced in love, and it must be devastating to know that Vision just disappeared. Steve will have to talk to Tony about that. Whatever his computer says, Tony must know where Vision has gone, or at least be able to track him down. They need to make sure that Vision knows that Wanda is home and missing him.

They all disperse not long after that, heading off to their separate rooms. Steve tentatively suggests sharing his bed to Bucky, but Bucky clearly doesn’t like the idea. Which hurts, but Bucky just ducks his head and mumbles something about violent nightmares and not wanting to hurt Steve accidentally. Steve thinks he could take whatever might happen, but he doesn’t want Bucky to stay awake all night, trying to avoid nightmares, so Steve goes to the room that’s meant for Bucky and manhandles the mattress off its frame and into his room to lay out on the floor. The gigantic thing barely fits through the doorways, overlarge and unnecessarily thick. Typical of Tony.

He tries to insist that Bucky take the actual bed, but Bucky insists on sleeping on the mattress on the floor. At least he’ll be comfortable. When they’ve both settled down and Steve is reaching to turn the lights off, however, he senses Bucky’s eyes on him and turns to see him watching Steve’s movements through some fallen strands of his long hair.

“Why’d you tell her that that Vision guy will come back?” Bucky finally asks.

Steve frowns, first recalling the conversation with Wanda earlier and then wondering where Bucky is going with this. “Because he will. I mean, he left because he felt lonely here, with all of us gone and Tony and Rhodes in the hospital. He loves Wanda. He’ll be home when he realizes she is.”

“How do you know for sure?” Bucky says.

Steve’s frown deepens at that. “Well… I guess I don’t know for sure. But I know Vision and Wanda, I’ve seen them. They’re in love. Vision wouldn’t abandon her like that. Why are you asking?”

Bucky just shrugs again. The low light in the room glints off the metal stump of his shoulder, exposed now that he’s wearing a sleeveless shirt to bed. T’Challa’s people had cleaned up the jagged edges of the wound where Tony had taken off the metal arm, but no one had offered him any kind of replacement before they’d left. But it was something Tony would take care of—with close supervision from Steve, to make sure he wouldn’t try to sabotage it—when he came back as their tech support and designer. Bucky’s an Avenger now, after all, and he’ll need two arms to fight.

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, realizing he’s staring at the shoulder, when Bucky speaks up again, voice soft and low. “Just seems like maybe you’re making promises you can’t keep,” he says, and then he turns and puts his head down.

Steve lies awake in bed for a while that night, wondering what Bucky meant. He was trying to calm Wanda, to give her hope. Was he giving false hope? What if Vision really doesn’t come back? No, he will. Steve’s sure of it; Bucky just doesn’t know him, hasn’t seen his and Wanda’s devotion to each other.

The thoughts lead Steve into others. Maybe Bucky was trying to make a point to Steve. Maybe he’s doubting that Steve really will come through with the tech to cure his triggers. It just hardens Steve’s resolve to talk to Tony tomorrow when he comes home. He needs to make sure that the therapy for Bucky is his top priority.

Steve wakes early and makes his way into the half-destroyed kitchen. The refrigerator and appliances are actually intact, other than being covered in dust, and though the milk has spoiled and the leftovers that were in there before all the fighting have gone bad, Steve finds a carton of eggs and some sausage in the freezer. He spends twenty minutes cleaning off the stove and counters, and then sets about cooking breakfast.

Most of the team gathers over the next hour, drawn by the smell of food cooking. It could almost be like the old days, and Steve wants to smile for it. But there are little differences that seem glaringly obvious. The absence of Tony—even though he was rarely present for team meals, keeping strange hours and even stranger eating schedules down in the lab or when he was away for business—seems like a hole even more obvious than the one in the kitchen floor. Bucky stays hunched over his food as well, not making eye contact with anyone or responding to Steve’s few, pitiful attempts at conversation.

Clint stabs at his sausages like they’re personally responsible for keeping his wife and kids away, glaring down at his plate and snarling at anyone who tries to make conversation. Nat and Sam are both withdrawn, not even making polite small talk like they usually might. Wanda looks like she was up all night crying about Vision, which Steve hates to see, but he doesn’t know what else to say to her to try to make it better. His conversation with Bucky last night is still nagging at him. Only Lang seems like he’s in a decent mood, eating with enthusiasm and thanking Steve for cooking, but then, he’s barely part of the team, and sadly, his happiness doesn’t seem to be rubbing off on the others.

The morning seems to pass excruciatingly slowly. Steve tries to engage Bucky, showing him around the Compound, but he’d might as well be talking to himself. He still has the same silent shadow following him, not reacting to anything he says or does. Because of it, Steve has no distraction from thoughts of Tony, wondering when he’ll be home and how he is.

Bucky has slipped off God knows where sometime after noon, and Steve is conflicted about going to find him. He doesn’t want to bother him—Bucky must need his space sometimes too—but he feels compelled to make sure that Bucky’s okay, that he’s not paralyzed with fear somewhere or trying to sneak away from the Compound or lost in HYDRA memories.

He’s wandering the Compound, trying to think of where Bucky might be hiding, when he stops short in the middle of a hall and does a double take.

Tony and Rhodes are sitting in one of the conference rooms, tablets in front of them both, heads bent over the table. Steve’s heart lurches in his chest at the sight of Tony sitting there, and he practically stumbles forward.

He bursts into the room, and to his surprise, neither Tony or Rhodes even startle. They do look up, slowly, at Steve’s entrance, but their expressions don’t change. Utterly blank and neutral, they both just stare at him, and he stares back.

He waits, heart pounding, for Tony to say something, but when it becomes clear that he’s not going to, Steve bursts out, “Tony. You’re—you’re home.”

Tony’s blank expression still doesn’t waver. “Evidently so.”

Steve pauses, at a loss. He wasn’t fully prepared to see Tony here, and now that he’s right in front of him, Steve doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to react to this blank indifference. He’d expected anything from reluctant joy to spitting anger from Tony, but this total lack of reaction is disturbing.

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “How are you feeling?”

Tony is silent for a moment. “I was discharged from the hospital,” he finally says.

“But… are you okay?”

“I was discharged,” Tony repeats, “so apparently the doctors thought I was okay to go home.”

Steve doesn’t know what to make of that. Is Tony trying to say that he’s fine because the doctors let him go, that he’s not okay because he was just in the hospital, or is it supposed to be some kind of reprimand to Steve for putting him there in the first place?

While Steve is trying to figure out how to respond to that, Rhodes speaks up. “I’m okay, too, thanks for asking. Spine’s not doing so well, but hey, at least I can’t feel it.” It’s not sarcastic or particularly biting, but there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice that Steve can’t help but flinch from. He’d never meant for anyone to get hurt, not Tony, not Rhodes. Especially not permanently. But he has nothing to offer in response to that that wouldn’t sound insincere and trite.

The silence stretches on, tension building, until Tony finally speaks again. “Is there something you need, Steve? Because if not, then we need to continue our work here.” He gestures to the tablets.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks. He’s not too surprised that Tony’s back to work already so soon after coming home from the hospital—it’s very much like Tony—but he is surprised Rhodes would be here too. Rhodes isn’t usually involved in Tony’s work unless it has to do with their armor, and, well… he’s not sure how to tactfully approach the topic of Rhodes and the Avengers, actually. The man clearly isn’t going to be able to fight with them any longer.

“Looking through the changes to the Accords,” Tony says. “We only have a few more days to decide whether to sign the revised version.”

Steve frowns at that. “Decide whether to sign? But you signed the old ones with no problem.” He can’t quite keep the judging note out of his voice. Tony’s gung-ho support of the old Accords was what started this whole mess, after all, and now he’s acting like he might have reservations?

Tony doesn’t react to it. “I signed the old Accords after reading them thoroughly. I just want to be sure I know everything these new ones say before I sign again.”

“Not to mention, the old ones were a draft,” Rhodes adds. “They came with the stipulation that things could be changed.”

“We can still change things,” Steve says cautiously, but Rhodes shakes his head.

“It’ll be a lot harder now, with the Council officially created and having veto power over pretty much everything. Now that the power structure is solidified, we really don’t have much pull anymore.”

Steve doesn’t like the sound of that at all. “What do you mean, the power structure? We’re still in charge of our own affairs. I’m the leader of the Avengers. I made sure they gave us control over the inner workings of the team.”

“Of this team,” Tony corrects. “And this team only. But how this team interacts with governments? Funding for it? Disciplinary actions and how lawsuits or damages will be handled? Not to mention other teams, should they decide they want to function on their own. You didn’t address any of those things. They’ve all been left up to the Council. And you did agree to give the Council that power.”

Steve crosses his arms. “What are you saying?”

Tony shrugs, then winces and puts a hand to his chest. “Nothing. You asked why we wanted to read the Accords thoroughly and I gave an answer.”

“You don’t agree with my decisions.” It’s half a question, half just a statement. Steve knows very well that Tony doesn’t agree with him.

“Whether I do or not is irrelevant, since those decisions have been made,” is all Tony says. “You’re the leader of the team.”

His tone is still completely neutral, but Steve can sense belligerence in the words nonetheless. He grinds his teeth for a moment, trying to decide how to address things. He wishes Tony would drop this ridiculous pretense of neutrality, like he doesn’t care about the conversation. But trying to call him out on it now, particularly in front of a clearly angry Rhodes, probably isn’t the best idea.

He decides to switch tactics instead. “There are some conversations we need to have, Tony.”

“About what?” Tony looks up at him, still giving nothing away.

“About a lot of things. About what happened, and what’s going to happen going forward. We just… there’s a lot to talk about.” Steve tries to soften his tone, to show that he wants to approach this in good faith. “And… not just with me. You need to sit down and talk to the others, too. Wanda, Clint. Sam and Nat. And Bucky.”

There’s finally a flicker of something in Tony’s expression. His entire body tenses in his chair. He stares up at Steve, and Steve gets the feeling that he’s about to stand up and scream at him, but then Rhodes puts a gentle hand on his arm. “Seventeen,” Rhodes says.

It doesn’t make any sense to Steve, but Tony lets out a breath, closes his eyes, and sits back in his chair again. When he opens his eyes, the blankness is back. “Seventeen,” he repeats, and Steve frowns again.

“Seventeen what?” he asks, but neither of them look up at him.

“Nothing,” Rhodes says, shaking his head. “Just a reminder of something… personal.”

“We can talk whenever there’s time,” Tony says evenly. “But for now, we really need to finish reading these. I’m still supposed to be resting a lot and I need to get to bed early, so I’d like to finish as much as I can today.”

It’s a clear dismissal, but at least he agreed to talk later, and Steve supposes that’s all he can hope for right now. He nods and leaves to continue searching for Bucky.

He finds him, a few hours later, perched up on a secluded ledge that oversees some of the training grounds. They’re empty at the moment, but Steve doubts Bucky is looking at them anyway. There’s a disturbed, faraway look in his eyes that Steve doesn’t like.

He sits down next to Bucky, hoping his presence will draw Bucky out of whatever dark thoughts he’s lost in. Bucky does glance over at him after a minute, but he doesn’t say anything. “Tony is back,” Steve says. He sees the way Bucky’s eyes tighten at that and hurries to reassure him. “He won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure of it. But he agreed to talk to you later. I’ll be there, okay? I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything. But we should give him a chance to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” Bucky says, staring back down at the empty training grounds.

“Well, for a lot, I suppose. For forcing the Accords on us and making us hide out in Wakanda, for not trusting us in the first place. But for you, you know, mostly for Siberia.”

Bucky hunches in on himself a bit more. “He don’t have to apologize for that.”

That shocks Steve. “What? Of course he does. He attacked you when he knew you were innocent.”

“I killed Howard. And his mother.”

“That wasn’t you!” Steve tries to reach out, but Bucky shifts subtly away from him and Steve drops his hand, frustrated. “That wasn’t your fault, Bucky, and Tony knows it. Nothing you did under HYDRA’s control is your fault. Tony never should have attacked you.”

Bucky doesn’t respond to that, and Steve has to take a deep breath to force down the annoyance welling in him. It’s mostly at Tony, that he caused this problem and now Bucky is too hurt and turned around to understand how wrong it was. But he doesn’t want it to show, to make Bucky think Steve’s angry at him.

“He’ll apologize to you. You’ll see. And we need to talk to him anyway, about his tech. The one that can help you with the triggers.”

Again, Bucky doesn’t respond to that, now withdrawn. Steve just sighs and settles in next to him, hoping his presence is comforting. They sit there for another hour before Bucky gets up to move and Steve follows him.

He doesn’t see Tony or Rhodes for the rest of the day, despite looking around for them. He remembers what Tony said about being told to rest more, and supposes maybe he’s in his room. Still, he’s surprised that Tony would listen to a doctor’s orders at all, much less when they’re orders to work less. He wishes he’d demanded a straight answer out of Tony about how he was feeling.

He doesn’t see either of them the next day, either. When he tries to go over to the wing where their rooms are, he’s denied access. He stands outside the door to their wing for twenty minutes, arguing increasingly loudly with FRIDAY, until Sam comes by, drawn by the noise, to ask what the problem is.

“The computer won’t let me in,” Steve says impatiently.

Sam just frowns. “Why do you need to be in there? Our rooms are across the Compound, in case you forgot.”

Steve manages not to roll his eyes, with difficulty. “I know that. Tony and Rhodes have rooms over here, and I haven’t seen them all day. They must be hiding out in there. I need to talk to them.”

Sam gives him a look he can’t decipher. “FRIDAY, can you tell us where Mr. Stark and the Colonel are right now?”

“Colonel Rhodes is at the hospital at the moment, Mr. Wilson. Mr. Stark is down in the lab. He has asked not to be disturbed.”

Sam's head comes up in alarm. “Why is Rhodes back at the hospital?”

“I cannot share private medical information.” FRIDAY says.

Steve shakes his head. That’s something he’ll have to address in the future. The leader of the Avengers needs to know everything about his team, including medical information. He can’t be kept in the dark. He comforts himself for now, assuming that Rhodes is only back for some kind of tests or follow-up.

Sam turns to Steve, distracting him from his thoughts. “You didn’t even bother asking if they were in their rooms before trying to break down the door?” This time, the judgment in his voice is clear.

“I hadn’t seen them all day, and I was up early,” Steve says, defensive. “Besides, no one should be barred from any wing of the Compound.”

Sam looks slightly disturbed at that. “They have a right to privacy in their rooms. I would hope FRIDAY would keep someone from barging into mine when I’m not there, too.”

Steve shakes his head, but drops the subject, seeing that he’s not going to get any support from Sam. “Tony agreed yesterday that we need to meet and talk, and now he’s avoiding us.”

Sam shrugs, looking more amicable at that. “I won’t complain if he’s down there making us some new equipment. Besides, you said yourself he’s usually too proud to apologize for anything. Probably avoiding the conversation.”

Steve can’t avoid a half-smile. He’s sure Tony was happy to read in the new Accords that he was designated in his old role as tech support. He practically lived in his lab before, and he was always excited to come up and give them new tech. Of course, it always seemed to come with the expectation that they would all cater to him while he showed off and made a production out of the whole thing, but maybe it would be different now. After the whole fiasco with the Accords, maybe now Tony will be a little less showy, a little more subdued.

He decides to leave Tony be for the morning, at least. Let him work. But Steve does seek out the others to check in with them. Wanda’s still upset about Vision, but she brightens when Steve suggests training with her powers later. She always likes working with them. Clint is still in a sour mood, and Steve mostly avoids him. Nat seems quietly contemplative, as usual for her, but she smiles and greets Steve when he approaches. He can’t find Lang, but doesn’t worry too much about it. Bucky is out in the garden this time, once again staring off into the distance. He says he’s okay and doesn’t want to come in yet, so Steve lets it go for the moment, leaving him there.

Steve does set an official mandatory team meeting for tomorrow, and makes sure FRIDAY gets the message to everyone. He needs to talk to Tony in private, and he wants Tony to have individual conversations with everyone else too, but it might help to at least start with a team meeting. There are things they need to discuss anyway, things that involve everyone.

He does try to go down to the lab later, hoping to have that conversation with Tony, or at least to get him to leave and come up for dinner with the team. When he tells Clint and Wanda that he wants Tony to join them, they both scoff and mutter something uncomplimentary about Tony, and Steve leaves for the lab shaking his head. This is why Tony needs to stop putting off those apologies.

To his immense frustration, FRIDAY won’t let him down to the lower levels, either. When he demands to be let down to talk to Tony, the computer refuses. When he tells it to order Tony up to the main level, it just says that he is busy and has engaged privacy mode. He tries to use an override code and is ignored.

Shaking his head, he calls the number he has for their new liaison to the Accords Council. Supposedly, the man is there to help them with communication with the Council and any logistical troubles they might be having. Steve’s also supposed to be reporting any internal problems to him, and by extension the Council. And while he doesn’t actually plan to follow that rule for anything that he feels can be handled in-house, this is a bit ridiculous.

His irritation only grows when the liaison is entirely unhelpful. He’s told that Tony technically owns the building, and so he can allow or disallow entry to whatever areas he would like. When Steve tries to say that it’s the Avengers’ base and as leader, he should have access to all of it, the liaison just gives more useless apologies. He says that since Tony keeps official SI projects in his labs, he’s legally allowed to keep anyone out, because of copyright and privacy and various other words that mean nothing to Steve.

Steve hangs up, frustrated and disappointed. Tony is making everything more difficult than it needs to be, and he needs to head this behavior off at tomorrow’s meeting.

He tries to complain about it to Bucky that night, but Bucky once again barely responds to him. He looks away when Steve talks about how childish and difficult Tony is being, and says nothing in response to Steve’s elaborate plans for tomorrow’s meeting and their future conversations.

The meeting does come, but it’s not all that Steve had imagined. Tony and Rhodes do show up, once again back to looking blankly around like they’re not affected in the least by sharing a room with people they’d fought against just weeks ago. Clint snarls an insult at Tony as he enters the room, but Steve sharply tells him to cut it out, not needing the meeting to start off with hostility. Tony doesn’t bother to show any gratitude.

Sam looks away guiltily from Rhodes and his wheelchair. Steve almost wants to say something about it, but it’s something Sam and Rhodes need to talk about on their own. A private talk, just like the one he needs to have with Tony.

Steve clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. He decides to start the meeting off with something small and relatively neutral, talking about training schedules and how they need to agree on dates and times for team exercises, both to make sure they still work together in the field and to integrate Lang and Bucky, the new members. Bucky looks down at the table at that, clearly uncomfortable. Steve will need to make sure that the others are welcoming and open when they practice so Bucky doesn’t have to feel like the odd man out.

He does pause awkwardly, trying to figure out how to talk about Rhodes, before finally deciding to just get right to it and ask whether War Machine is going to be retired for good.

“I am still in talks with the Air Force about what’s going to happen going forward,” Rhodes says.

“But… are you going to be able to operate the suit again?” Steve winces when Rhodes gives him a dirty look. It’s a touchy subject, but he needs to know.

“I’m working on something to get him walking again,” Tony says before Rhodes can respond. “It’s a… temporary measure, but with some practice he’d be able to operate the suit again.”

“And you’ve both signed the new Accords?”

Tony and Rhodes share a lightning-fast glance with each other, nearly undetectable. “Yes,” Rhodes says, “we’ve both signed.”

Steve nods. “That’s good. You said you read them through, so I’m sure you saw everything about your positions. They’re pretty much the same as before.” He smiles, hoping to receive one in return, but both of them just continue to look at him.

“And since you’re supposed to be the weapons guy,” Clint says loudly, watching Tony, “how about some new gear? We need an upgrade.”

Steve sighs at Clint’s harsh tone, but Tony doesn’t say anything, or look offended by it, which Steve is glad for. In the old days, he probably would have responded with some petty insult. “It may take two or three weeks,” Tony says, “I’m really busy. But I can have something new for you all. I had some new armor ideas in the works, and I’m sure there are always improvements to be made to existing gear.”

Steve nods again, smiling wider. It’s great to see Tony settling back in. The meeting goes on, with all of them talking about training, how missions will run, settling back into the Compound. They ask Tony about getting the kitchen fixed and he says that he’s already called in a team. They’ll be working for the next few days, so everyone will need to stay out of the kitchen and find food elsewhere.

Wanda asks whether Tony will be paying for their meals since they can’t use the kitchen, which reminds Steve to ask about their individual accounts that were mysteriously deactivated. Tony inclines his head, calmly saying that it was not his call; after they were declared criminals, the government seized their assets, including their “Avenger accounts.” When they were pardoned, those assets were returned, but since the Avenger accounts were technically Tony’s, they went back to him.

“And who’s fault is that?” Wanda asks. Tony just looks at her blankly.

“I don’t know who came up with that particular procedure. I’m sure you could look it up if you really wanted to know.” He’s deliberately avoiding what he knows Wanda was really referring to.

Wanda snarls, but Steve holds a hand up. “That’s enough.” He looks from Wanda to Tony. “So we can get them back now, since we’ve been pardoned and we’re back.”

Tony nods. “Actually, we’ve done some restructuring. The accounts will feed credit cards in your names, now. Just for better tracking of purchases, so we can make sure we’re not being overcharged or anything. I’ll forward you all the paperwork, all you’ve got to do is sign it. The cards will be linked to the accounts.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Steve says with another smile.

The only other snag they hit is when Steve mentions his issue with getting into the lab the other day. Tony firmly repeats what the liaison had told Steve: that the labs contain SI property as well as Avengers gear, and that Tony will under no circumstances compromise the security of his company. It doesn’t seem like an issue he’s going to budge on, and Steve doesn’t want to ruin the good vibe of the meeting so far, so he lets it go. He can talk to Tony later about moving the Avengers’ stuff elsewhere, maybe, so that it can be in a lab that Steve can enter.

When the meeting comes to a close, everyone gets up to file out of the room. Tony hangs back with Rhodes as he unlocks his chair and gathers his things, and Steve puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder so he’ll stay back as well. When Tony and Rhodes go to leave, Steve calls after him. “Tony, wait.” They both stop to look back at Steve and Bucky. “Can we talk for a minute?” He glances at Rhodes. “Alone?”

Rhodes narrows his eyes, but Tony puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. Rhodes gives both Steve and Bucky a hard look and wheels out of the room. Steve wonders, watching him, if Tony told him what happened in Siberia. He supposes he must have. At the very least, Rhodes was with Tony in the hospital and has seen his injuries. The thought crosses his mind that Rhodes might be as protective of Tony as Steve is of Bucky. He’s not sure what to do with that.

Tony just stands there, looking at Steve expectantly, so Steve talks first. “You agreed we needed to sit down for a conversation,” he gently reminds Tony.

Tony inclines his head at that. “I did.”

“So why don’t you sit?” Steve gestures at the table and takes his own seat again, next to Bucky. Tony watches him for a moment before moving to the table himself, sitting down opposite them. As far away from them as he can be, Steve notes, but there are more important things to talk about.

“We haven’t seen you since you got home,” is what Steve leads with, hoping Tony might elaborate on an answer.

“I’ve been busy. Paperwork, lab work. A lot builds up for SI when I’m gone for even a day or two.”

“Well, I’m… glad to see you’re feeling better. You look better,” Steve says, trying to smile. At least most of Tony’s bruises have faded, only a few yellow splotches still visible on his face and arms. His left arm is still in a sling, but he seems to be sitting more comfortably than he was two days ago. Steve hates seeing the physical reminders of their fight, of the team’s lowest point, on Tony.

“What did you need to talk about?” Tony presses. His face is still carefully neutral.

Steve resists the urge to sigh. He wishes Tony would trust him, let him know what he’s feeling. He looks to Bucky. “Well, the first thing, it’s about Bucky. We need that tech of yours, the one you gave to the VA, T’Challa said?”

“I didn’t ‘give’ anything to the VA. They’re working with me on finding some suitable candidates for initial testing phases of BARF. It isn’t ready yet.” Tony says.

“But it works, right?” Steve asks. “You showed it working, on you.”

“It does what I created it to do, yes, which is to access the memory centers of the brain and recreate realistic projections of those memories that the user can interact with. That doesn’t mean it ‘works.’ What I’m hoping it might do is help people with PTSD and other psychological issues. Only time and trials will show whether it works or not.”

Steve frowns. “But help them, how? And it can’t hurt, right? We need it for Bucky. It could help him with what HYDRA did to him. With the triggers.”

Tony takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He stares at a point somewhere between Steve and Bucky instead of looking right at them. “It’s still in trials, not approved for anything. As for how it can help, we’re hoping it can function as an adjunct to medication and cognitive behavioral therapy or other types. A lot of therapy programs encourage people to talk to those who’ve wronged them or who they’ve wronged themselves. For those of us whose subjects of interest are dead, it can hopefully provide a way for us to interact with them again, to work through issues in a realistic, but ultimately safe, way.”

Bucky flinches back at Tony’s inclusion of himself in the potential users, and the way he mentions the dead. Annoyed at Tony’s reluctance to help them and the way, even now, he’s hurting Bucky, Steve snaps, “And you’re denying it to Bucky? Are you trying to punish him? Or me?”

Tony closes his eyes and whispers something to himself, so quietly that Steve can’t catch it. He takes another deep breath before opening them again, this time looking at Steve. “The technology isn’t ready yet, and it’s not proven. It’s only meant to help people work through scenarios and issues along with real, proven therapies. It can’t help with HYDRA’s triggers. It’s not a magical cure-all. You’re looking for a miracle, and I don’t have one.”

Steve opens his mouth angrily, but Bucky speaks up before he can tell Tony exactly what he thinks of that. “Just drop it, Steve. If it won’t fix the triggers, then it won’t fix them. No point arguing about it.” He seems defeated, and Steve hates that. He hates the idea that he promised a cure to Bucky, only to find out that even Tony can’t help.

Tony, for his part, is looking away again. His jaw is clenched and he looks like he’s about a second from just getting up and running from the room. Steve forces himself to sit back. Even if Steve is angry about this, there are still plenty of other issues they need to discuss. “Okay,” he says, “we’ll… figure something else out. There are other things we need to talk about.”

Tony looks at him again, eyes narrowed. There’s fury on his face, the same kind that was there in Siberia, and Steve tenses, ready to stand, to defend Bucky again if he needs to. But Tony just blinks and then his face smooths out again, back to his blank expression.

“What else do you need to talk about?”

Steve thinks of Wanda. “Vision.”

Tony’s already shaking his head. “I don’t know where he is.”

“But you must know how to contact him,” Steve insists.

Tony actually lets his neutral mask slip, showing a glimpse of something terribly sad for a moment. “He didn’t tell me where he was going. He didn’t leave a way to contact him. He left behind all his stuff. He didn’t tell me anything, and if he doesn’t want me to find him, I’m not going to be able to. I don’t know any more than you do.” He seems almost defeated for a moment before he pulls himself back together. “Is there anything else?”

Steve thinks for a moment, wondering what to bring up next. “Clint,” he finally settles on. “He hasn’t been able to contact Laura. I was hoping you could help.”

“I don’t have her number,” Tony says, “and I can’t exactly just look her up in the phone book. They live pretty far off the grid. Clint’s free to go and visit if he knows where they are. I don't.”

“You could track her down,” Steve says.

“That would be a violation of her rights,” Tony counters.

Steve shakes his head, tired of the forced blank expression. “Tony, look, if you need to talk to us, please do it. If you’re angry, we can work through it. We all made mistakes in the past few weeks, okay? But we’re never going to move past it if you keep trying to act like it’s not affecting you.”

Tony doesn’t react. Doesn’t do anything, just sits there watching Steve. When he doesn’t answer, Steve tries again. “Is this about Siberia?”

“I have nothing to say to you about Siberia,” Tony says, still emotionless. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to be late for an SI meeting.”

He gets up and leaves, and Steve doesn’t try to stop him. He’s frustrated with Tony, for refusing to talk to him, for not being able to help Bucky with the triggers or with tracking down Vision or Clint’s family. And he’s frustrated with himself, for not knowing the words to get through to Tony, to make him talk about this. When he’s not around Tony, he plans so many things that he wants to say, issues he needs to bring up, apologies he needs to make. But when he’s actually face to face with him, everything goes out the window. Steve leaves every interaction with Tony filled with regret. It’s been like that for a long time, and he hates it.

The next few days pass in a similar pattern. Steve goes looking for Tony every day, but rarely finds him. He always seems to be busy, either locked down in his lab where Steve can’t enter, or on his way to some kind of meeting with SI. Steve doesn’t remember him ever attending this many meetings before, and suspects he’s going to meetings he previously would have skipped as an excuse to avoid Steve.

Steve does manage to catch him a few times. One of those, Steve has practiced all day for, reciting what he’s going to say to himself so that he doesn’t forget the words when Tony’s in front of him. When he manages to get Tony on his own, he repeats his carefully crafted apology word for word.

He tells Tony that he’s sorry for how things happened in Siberia, that he hopes Tony understands now why attacking Bucky was wrong and why Steve had to defend him. Tony just listens, then blankly tells him that he hears what Steve is saying, offers nothing in return, and leaves. Despite what Tony says, Steve feels like Tony didn’t hear him at all.

Less than a week after Steve and his team return to the Compound, Tony has Rhodes in braces so that he can walk again. They’re clearly in their early stages, and far from perfect, but it’s a huge relief to see Rhodes standing, even taking tentative steps with Tony’s support. When Steve tries to congratulate him, however, he’s ignored.

Steve knows that Sam has tried to get Rhodes on his own to talk about what happened in Germany. But from the despondent looks that Sam occasionally throws Rhodes and the way he avoids looking at the braces or the wheelchair that Rhodes still uses, Steve can guess that Sam’s gotten about as far with that as Steve has with Tony.

Steve wonders whether he needs to bring it up at a team meeting or with the Council. After all, Rhodes’s attitude is going to interfere with team dynamics if it continues. But he is dealing with a serious injury, permanent—even if Tony is going to use tech to get him walking again—and surely a huge adjustment for him. Steve decides to give him more time, hoping that he’ll settle in and improve his outlook.

But two weeks go by since their return, and nothing really changes. Rhodes mostly ignores them all, not that they see him often. He always seems to be away “working,” according to FRIDAY, or meeting with Air Force people.

Wanda and Clint are still pissed at Tony. Tony’s rarely seen around the Compound even though he lives there, but when he does happen to come into the same room as the rest of them, Clint and Wanda tend to hurl insults and barbs at him. They’re constantly trying to provoke him, even though Steve reprimands them both for it multiple times. Tony never rises to the bait, however, either ignoring them or just responding with some deadpan answer. His lack of reaction only seems to make them angrier.

At team meetings, Tony is as polite and professional as ever, but it’s like he has no personality. He keeps his dispassionate attitude firmly in place, no longer allowing slips like Steve saw during those first few conversations with him. He does occasionally mutter something to himself quietly; the two times Steve catches it, it sounds like more numbers, like that day with Rhodes. He wonders if it’s some kind of computer thing.

Ross joins them over video for a few meetings, which makes Steve seethe. He hates the General, his clear disdain for Steve and his team and the way he loves to try to hold any scrap of power he can find over the rest of them. Tony and Rhodes don’t seem to like him any more than Steve does, but they don’t do anything about him during meetings or outside of them.

In fact, Tony quietly acquiesces to anything and everything Ross asks of him. He’s been doing the same for Steve and the rest of the team too—save for the few small problems like Steve not being let in the lab or the wing where his and Rhodes’s rooms are—but that’s different. That’s his team, people he can trust. This is Ross, and the way Tony seems to be withdrawing more and more all the time is really starting to worry Steve.

He spends a lot of time thinking about it, almost as much as he spends thinking about Bucky. Bucky doesn’t seem to be improving much either, constantly sneaking off to hide in various places around the Compound. He’s always quiet and withdrawn at meals, he barely even talks to Steve, and he avoids interaction with the others.

Steve tries to organize a training session early on, but it doesn’t work out. Tony tells him that he doesn’t have his doctor’s clearance to be back in the suit yet. Clint complains that he doesn’t have decent enough equipment even to train with, and Tony says he’s still working on upgrades. When the rest of them do show up to practice, Bucky takes one look at the magic swirling around Wanda’s hands and bolts from the room, disappearing for the rest of the day. Just when Steve is just about to demand that they go out and search for him, certain that he’s left the Compound, he returns, looking haunted.

Steve decides that night that he needs to approach Tony about Bucky again. Bucky needs help in order to integrate with them. A new arm might help with that, but really, what he needs is a cure for his triggers. Tony says the tech he already invented won’t work for that, but Steve is sure he can come up with something else. He managed to create braces for Rhodes, imperfect as they are, within a week. With supervision—so Steve knows that Tony won’t be tempted to mess with Bucky—Steve is sure Tony can think of a way to help Bucky with his triggers.

He’s distracted from this resolution the following morning, however. They’re sitting around eating breakfast—sans Tony, who’s apparently hiding down in his lab again—in the newly repaired kitchen when there’s a blinding flash of light and a crashing like thunder outside on the lawn.

Steve has jumped up before his vision has cleared, along with the rest of the team. They run out onto the lawn just as the Iron Man armor touches down beside them, palms out and repulsors glowing. They all stop short, however, at the sight of their guest.

“Thor!”

Thor smiles broadly at all of them, spreading his arms wide. Mjolnir is in his hand, and the familiar sight of him brings a warmth to Steve’s chest. “My friends!” he exclaims, coming to join them.

Bucky backs away when he approaches, a knife and a gun held out—Steve doesn’t know where he got the gun, he thought he’d cleared all the weapons from their room in case of violent flashbacks, but Bucky apparently has things stashed in some of his hiding places around the Compound—and the haunted, slightly panicked look back in his eyes. Steve hurries to reassure him, to remind him who Thor is—he’s told Bucky about Thor in some of his stories about the Avengers—and to calm him down.

Thor is enthusiastically introducing himself to Lang, who’s practically falling over himself to talk to him, and greeting Nat and Clint. Wanda sidles over to the Iron Man armor and sneers at it while Sam is nodding a greeting to Thor. “So you were ‘too hurt’ to be in the armor, were you?” she jeers.

The armor just turns to look at her, and the faceplate flips up, revealing that it’s empty inside. The sight is somewhat disturbing, Steve thinks, even more so when it flips back down and Tony’s voice comes from the speakers as if he were inside the armor. “I am. That doesn’t mean I can’t remotely pilot it, especially in emergencies. But since this seems to be a friendly visit, I’ll be returning the armor to the lab.” With that, the armor takes off, swooping around the side of the building.

“What brings you by?” Sam is asking when Steve turns back to the group.

“I am on my way back to Asgard, actually. I’ve been away for some time, looking for… answers. But I’ve heard some reports, of some very unusual behavior from Odin of late. I feel I need to investigate. And I would like to see my home,” he adds with a wistful smile.

By the time they all make their way inside, Thor is already asking about what’s happened to Tony, Rhodes, and Vision. Wanda sniffs at the mention of Vision, looking away, and the others look to Steve to explain. Steve sighs.

“A lot has happened since we saw you last, Thor. The team… we had a bit of a… disagreement.” There’s a snort from behind him, he’s not sure who from, and he shakes his head. “Okay, a pretty big disagreement. It turned into a fight. We,” he gestures at himself and the others currently gathered around, “had to leave for a few days. Rhodes got injured, he’s still recovering. Tony is too. And Vision… he left. We don’t know where he is. We’re just waiting for him to come home.”

Thor sobers at Steve’s explanation, looking solemnly around at them. “I am sorry I wasn’t present for any of this. It sounds like I’ve missed a great deal.”

Steve nods, unsure whether he should say more and wishing they could move on to happier topics. Thankfully, Thor asks after some kind of pasta that Nat likes to eat, and she takes him to the kitchen with a smile.

The mood is ruined yet again an hour later, when FRIDAY tells Steve that he has a video call. He goes into one of the conference rooms, and FRIDAY pulls up a video chat, with Ross of all people.

“General,” Steve says, trying to remain professional, “what’s this about?”

“I hear you have a visitor,” Ross says. Steve wonders if he’s spying on them somehow, and then wonders if Tony went and told Ross the moment Thor showed up. It only increases the concern Steve’s had growing over the last few days, that Ross is somehow holding something over Tony in order to force his cooperation.

“That’s true, sir. Prince Thor has returned,” Steve says cautiously.

“You will, of course, be presenting the Accords to him.” Ross says it like an order, and Steve bristles a little.

“All due respect, sir, that’s hardly necess—”

“It’s entirely necessary,” Ross interrupts. “Native to Earth or not, Thor has fought for its protection, in the role of a superhero. Hell, half the public consider him an Avenger. If he continues coming here and acting in that capacity at all, he needs to sign the Accords just like the rest of you.”

Steve bites his tongue, not wanting to get into an argument with Ross. He just curtly agrees to present the Accords to Thor at some point during his stay, ends the call, and goes back to the kitchen.

Thor is retelling some adventure he had on another world when Steve returns, holding the rapt attention of the others—all except Bucky, who’s not even in the room. Steve understands that he’s wary of the newcomer, but he wishes Bucky would come out and socialize. He’s never going to improve if he keeps avoiding everyone.

Tony still hasn’t come up either, and Steve doesn’t know where Rhodes is. Thor asks about Tony again, frowning when he’s told that Tony is downstairs in the lab. Thor isn’t an idiot—Steve knows he’s wondering why, if Tony is here, he doesn’t come up and greet their visitor, but Thor doesn’t ask and Steve doesn’t offer anything, just trying to steer them to another subject.

Thor says he can only stay for a few days before he needs to go back to Asgard. Steve is hoping that means he can get out of meeting Ross’s demand to present the Accords to him, pretending that there just wasn’t time in only a few days to explain it all. But then someone mentions the Accords when they’re talking about the changes to the Compound and the Avengers, and Thor asks for clarification. When Nat explains the basics and mentions that all people acting as superheroes are expected to sign now, Thor offers on his own to sign it.

Steve is shocked at that, even as Nat goes to grab a tablet that Thor can use to read over and sign it. “Thor… don’t you want to take any time to think about it? Make sure you really agree with them?”

Thor gives him a smile. “All of you have given your signatures. And I am used to such agreements. Even as a young Prince of Asgard, I was often part of negotiations and settlements in other Realms, in peace and wartimes. There is always a diplomatic part of any situation, though I had little appreciation for politics or diplomacy in my younger days. I have since grown.”

Steve gets an uncomfortable feeling at that, one he can’t quite figure out. Maybe he’s upset at how quickly Thor agreed to sign the Accords, not knowing about Ross or the whole story. Maybe he’s bothered that Thor seems to trust that just because the rest of them signed—not knowing they were essentially forced into it—that means it’s fine for him. Or it could be Thor’s statement about how documents like this are commonplace for him. He’s disturbed by the idea that something that created such a huge upset here on Earth, that nearly tore the Avengers apart, is so unconcerning for Thor.

Tony does come up a few hours later, heading straight to the kitchen to grab some food. Steve, Thor, and Nat happen to be there, still cleaning up the remnants of their lunch, when Tony comes in. “Stark!” Thor gives him a wide smile and moves as though to clap him on the back, then—perhaps remembering what Steve said about Tony still recovering, or maybe noticing the tiny flinch that Tony can’t quite hide—changes direction and hold out his hand to shake instead. “I was beginning to question the others’ insistence that you did indeed occupy the building.”

Tony doesn’t smile, or crack a joke, or comment on the others at all. He does shake Thor’s hand, but that’s it. “Thor. I hear you’re visiting for a few days.” He turns to rummage through the fridge.

Thor glances over at Steve while Tony’s back is turned, looking lost. Tony’s never been so coldly professional to him before—the lack of some quip or odd nickname alone highlights how different Tony is acting. Steve just grimaces as Thor turns back to look at Tony. “Aye, I wanted to visit again before returning home to Asgard. Are you troubled by my presence?”

Tony straightens and turns back to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Not at all. There are at least two more guest rooms available. I’ll have one of them made up for you. FRIDAY can let you know when it’s ready and direct you. Enjoy your stay.” With that, he leaves the kitchen, not sparing Steve or Nat a single glance.

Thor immediately turns concerned eyes to Steve. “What has happened to him?”

Steve is very aware of Nat’s presence by his side as he haltingly explains some of the details of their fight. He talks about how the Accords were a point of contention, and how the team ultimately split, with Tony and Rhodes on one side and the rest of them on the other. He mentions that it came to blows eventually, and how, as much as they all hated fighting each other, they felt they had to stand up for what was right.

Thor looks skeptical when Steve is done talking. “I am sorry that such a rift was created between you all. It is good to stand up for what one believes in, but standing against friends is always difficult. But I have difficulty believing that the great Man of Iron would reject his friends as such when the fighting has ceased, and I do not understand why such upset should extend to me as well.”

He’s clearly leaving an opening for Steve to say more, but when Steve remains silent, Thor just looks despondent and leaves the room. He’s clearly hurt by the way Tony’s treating him, and Steve wishes Tony wouldn’t drag Thor into whatever wound still exists between them.

He also feels the sadly familiar twisting of guilt and shame in his stomach. Thor might not be so confused about Tony’s hostility if he knew what happened in Siberia. But Nat had been sitting right there, and though she knew about the Starks, though she might suspect by now that something to do with that happened in Siberia, Steve hasn’t confirmed anything. He hasn’t told anyone about Siberia. The only people who know are him, Bucky, and Tony. The ones who were there.

Would it change anyone’s opinion? It wouldn’t change what happened. It wouldn’t change Bucky’s missing arm, or Tony’s bruises, or Steve’s heartache. But it might change how the others feel. Would Clint blame Tony any less for their stint as wanted criminals if he knew what Tony had been through? Would Sam stop saying that Tony had betrayed them in Siberia, if he knew that Tony had been reacting to the brutal truth about the death of his parents? The little voice in the back of Steve’s head knows that the real reason Steve hasn’t told anyone about Siberia isn’t an attempt to protect Bucky or Tony’s privacy; it’s because he’s a coward, a liar who’s afraid that his team will turn on him—the way they turned on Tony—if he tells them the truth.

Feeling a little sick, Steve gets up without saying anything to Nat and leaves, going back to his room to sit down and think. He doesn’t know what to do. It’s been so long already, it feels like telling everyone the truth about Siberia at this point would almost be pointless. Just dragging up bad memories and hurts. But then again, that was the reasoning he’d used for not telling Tony in the first place, and that had backfired spectacularly.

The team might never heal if they don’t know the whole truth. Maybe what they need is to get everything out there. Maybe the reason Tony’s holding back, forcing himself not to express any emotions, is because no one else is either. Maybe Steve needs to get them all together, sit them down and get everything out in the open.

What he really wants is Bucky’s opinion on this. He goes looking for him in the evening, but he’s hidden somewhere Steve can’t find him, and FRIDAY is no help, spouting that Bucky asked her not to disclose his location except in emergencies. Steve misses dinner, spending the rest of the night looking for him, but doesn’t find him. He hopes he’s not hiding away because of Thor. He goes by Bucky’s room that night—Bucky moved back into his own room a week after they came back—but the door is locked and no one answers when he knocks.

Thor does stay the night, and the next night. He hangs around the Compound, telling stories about his adventures in the last few years, the aliens he’s met, and Asgard. He listens with interest to some of their tales as well. One of the few awkward moments comes when someone asks whether he plans to visit Jane while he’s on Earth—he looks away, muttering something about Jane being too busy at the moment to be meeting old friends, and Steve understands what he’s not saying.

Thor has apparently decided not to acknowledge Tony’s indifferent attitude, instead greeting him more and more enthusiastically every time he sees him around the Compound. Constantly inviting him to sit down, share a meal, tell stories or listen to Thor’s, or otherwise stay in the same space for more than a few seconds at a time. Tony’s mask never wavers, though, always the same polite refusals, meetings and work that he constantly seems to need to get to urgently.

Steve isn’t sure what to do about it. He doesn’t want Tony to be at odds with Thor. Doesn’t want him to be at odds with anyone on the team, but Thor is only staying for another day or so, and Steve desperately wants Tony to be friendly with him by the time he leaves. He decides to mediate in that, to find Tony and Thor tomorrow and get them to sit down and talk. Maybe Tony and Steve still have issues to work out, but Tony shouldn’t be taking that out on Thor.

The next morning, however, Steve is distracted. He doesn’t see Tony or Rhodes all morning—now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen Rhodes at the Compound in a few days—and FRIDAY says Tony isn’t down in the lab. When noon comes and Steve still hasn’t seen him, he decides to go looking.

When he passes by the front of the Compound, however, he sees Rhodes. Wearing his braces—and moving a little better than before, Tony must have upgraded them—Rhodes is pushing the door open with his back, hauling several bags inside the doors. There are two stuffed duffel bags and what looks like one hard-sided suitcase, plus something smaller that looks like a large gray briefcase. Rhodes glances at Steve as he sets the last of the bags down inside the doors, but ignores him.

Rhodes must be moving in, Steve realizes. He has a room here in the Compound and has been staying here since being released from the hospital, but he also has his own place. He’d never lived with the Avengers before. But now, one of Steve’s stipulations in the new Avengers layout is that the whole team needs to live in one place, in this case the Compound. Perhaps that’s why Rhodes has been missing so much in the last few days—he’s been moving all of his stuff out of his old place.

Steve glances down at the bags he’s brought in. Rhodes isn’t a materialistic person, but these few bags don’t seem like enough to be all of Rhodes’s stuff. He wonders if this is the first or the last of it. “Finished moving in?” he asks, trying to be friendly.

“What?” is all Rhodes says, throwing Steve a brief, bored look. He must be learning from Tony, and Steve resists the urge to sigh. He seems to be doing that a lot lately.

He opens his mouth to elaborate on the question, determined to engage Rhodes in conversation, but a shout echoes through the room instead, coming from somewhere in the Compound. “Rhodey!”

Steve turns just as Tony comes skidding around the corner into the entryway, practically bubbling over with manic energy. It’s something Steve realizes he hasn’t seen in Tony since before the whole Accords debacle.

The other sudden, startling change in Tony is his smile. He’s grinning ear to ear, a sparkle in his eyes, lightness in his whole body. Steve realizes with a jolt that he hasn’t seen this at all in weeks, maybe even months. Even before the Accords and the team falling apart, Tony rarely seemed to smile recently. When he did, it was a sarcastic smirk or a pained smile or the nervous version he sometimes got when he was under pressure. Not this genuine, gigantic smile that takes years off his face.

Tony bounces on the balls of his feet a couple times and then comes toward them, practically running. For half a moment, Steve’s brain goes out the window, convinced that Tony is coming up to him with that smile, that joy—but Tony just elbows past him and practically throws himself at Rhodes, actually laughing. Another thing Steve hasn’t heard from Tony in forever.

Rhodes staggers a little in his braces, but he wraps his arms around Tony with the same fond, indulgent smile he’s always carried when Tony is around. He laughs too, real happiness on his face, and Steve can feel something hopeful and joyous sparking in his chest.

Maybe this is really all that Tony needed—that both of them needed. If Tony is going to be like this again, smiling and happy, because Rhodes is moving in, then there might be hope for the team to move forward and heal. With Tony in a good mood because of this, maybe Steve can convince him to sit down with Thor today and mend the bridges he’s been chipping away at.

“Everything set?” Tony asks as he pulls away from Rhodes.

Rhodes nods, grinning almost as widely as Tony. “Paperwork went through this morning.”

Tony does an excited little hop at that, just as the others file into the room, drawn by the noise. Nat, Sam, and Thor just look curiously at the duo. Wanda and Clint have their usual sneers in place, and Bucky hangs out at the back of the group, watching Tony and Rhodes cautiously. Lang is out today, visiting with his ex-wife and daughter, Steve remembers.

Wanda crosses her arms as she watches Tony bouncing with energy. “What are you so excited about?” she asks scathingly.

Steve expects Tony to deflate, or maybe to turn and throw an insult back at her, but he doesn’t. He just turns to face her with the same broad grin, energy not dissipating at all. “It’s moving day,” he announces, then laughs again and pulls Rhodes by the arm toward the hall that leads to their wing.

“Moving day?” Sam asks in their absence.

“Rhodes is moving into the Compound,” Steve explains. He can’t help the smile as he looks at the hall where they disappeared. Tony’s good mood promises great things for the team, and it’s infectious.

“I thought he already lived here,” Clint says, then shrugs like he doesn’t care either way.

“He has a room here, but he’s never lived here before,” Nat says. “I suppose he’s moving in now that he’s in the braces and he can fly the suit again. If he’s officially staying as an Avenger, he’s got to live here.”

Steve nods. That’s exactly what he’d concluded. They all stand around for another minute before they seem to realize they’re gathered for no real reason. Before they get a chance to disperse, Tony and Rhodes come back down the hallway, laughing and chatting with each other.

They’re each carrying a few bags over their shoulders, which Steve frowns at. They should be moving Rhodes’s things down to his room, not the opposite way. “What are you doing?” he asks as they come back into the entryway, drawing their attention.

Tony just raises an eyebrow. “What part of the concept of ‘moving’ eludes you?” he asks. Steve may have missed his smile and his energy, but he didn’t miss his sarcasm.

Steve walks back over as they stop near the door. Tony glances down at Rhodes’s pile of bags and scoffs. “Are you planning to wear the same shirt for the next month? Use travel shampoo to wash your whole body?”

Rhodes kicks the back of Tony’s calf. “Shut up. Just because you pack like a soccer mom taking the kids to Disney World doesn’t mean I have to.”

Tony just shakes his head, stooping to add one of Rhodes’s bags to the ones he’s already carrying while Rhodes opens the door. “So I have a lot of stuff.”

“You’re practically a hoarder,” Rhodes says, laughing, as they go out the door. Steve follows them out, but they ignore him as they walk out to one of the open expanses of lawn next to the drive and drop their bags.

As they’re coming back in, Steve moves, trying to get in front of them. Tony ignores him and steps around him, heading back to his room, but Rhodes stops to look up at him. “I thought you were moving in,” Steve says cautiously.

The others, gathered at the edge of the room, look on curiously. “What gave you that idea?” Rhodes asks, then moves past Steve as well, back to the back where Tony has gone.

Steve turns to look helplessly at the others. Nat and Thor are frowning after Tony and Rhodes. Sam is shaking his head like he can’t believe how childish they’re acting, and Wanda and Clint are glaring. Bucky is still hanging back, just watching the hall from which Tony and Rhodes are coming and going.

They come back out laden with even more bags, once again taking them out to the lawn, apparently waiting for pickup at some point soon. Tony must have a van coming. “So Stark’s trying to move out,” Sam says, observing them where they’re standing outside, still laughing and joking with each other.

Steve crosses his arms. “They can’t do that. All the Avengers have to live here.”

“Maybe he’s quitting,” Wanda says gleefully.

Steve’s stomach drops at that. “He’s not quitting.” He can’t. He wouldn’t.

When they come back in, Steve once again moves to stand in Tony’s way. “You can’t move out, Tony,” he says, and Tony stops to look up at him. “All the Avengers are required to live in the same place. The Compound is our home. Your home.”

Tony just nods. “Interesting. I’m still moving.” And he sidesteps Steve again, once more heading into the back. Rhodes stops at the door this time, gathering the rest of his bags and moving them outside.

Steve shakes his head and sighs. He doesn’t want to make this an issue, but really, Tony is being ridiculous. Childish. Trying to move out of the Compound, ignoring Steve when he reminds him that he has to stay. So Steve leaves, enters one of the conference rooms to call the Council.

His liaison answers. Steve explains that Tony and Rhodes are saying they’re moving out of the Compound, violating the terms of their Accords agreements. When the liaison says he can send them a notice, Steve protests. He tells him that they’re trying to move out right now, and this requires more immediate action. After a pause, the liaison says they’re sending someone over.

Steve goes back out. The rest of the team has moved outside, standing to the side and watching Tony and Rhodes as they organize their bags into two piles—Tony’s really is significantly larger than Rhodes’s—and continue talking, ignoring everyone else. Most of the rest of the team is looking confused, upset—in Thor’s case, at least—or annoyed. Steve’s feeling some combination of all three.

A car comes up the drive and Steve tenses. If this is the car that’s supposed to pick up Tony and Rhodes, then there’s not much more time for the Council’s people to get here and dissuade them before they leave. But no, the vehicle doesn’t look big enough to fit all of their bags. They’re going to need something with more storage space for that. The windows are tinted so Steve can’t see who’s driving, but as soon as the car comes to a stop, the back door opens and a teenage boy comes spilling out, practically tripping over himself in his haste.

“Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony!” he’s chanting as he runs up to Tony and nearly tackles the man in a fierce hug. Tony’s friendly, joking smile turns into something softer as he returns the embrace. Steve has no idea who this kid is, but Tony obviously knows him.

“Hey, kid. You guys get everything I sent over?”

The kid pulls back with a smile, just as two other people exit the car: Happy from the driver’s seat, and the Spider kid from Germany dressed in his full uniform.

“Yeah, we got it all, mom’s trying to find a place to set it all up right now. My sister’s obsessed with the chem stuff, she won’t shut up about you,” the first kid is saying to Tony, rolling his eyes. “She’s got this huge crush on you. So does my mom, actually, it’s disgusting.”

Tony laughs, a touch nervously, and turns to greet Happy and the Spider kid. He and Happy clap each other on the back and nod solemnly. “We’ll miss you, Boss,” Happy says, and Tony gives him a sad, slightly disbelieving smile.

“I’ll be in touch,” Tony says, just as the Spider kid rounds the car and comes to greet him. The kid stands awkwardly for a moment, haltingly holding a hand out, before Tony rolls his eyes and pulls him into a hug. In the background, the other one has moved over to where Rhodes is standing and is looking at his braces critically.

“I know you got everything I sent you, and I know what you’re planning next, so you be careful, and keep in touch, okay?” Tony tells the masked kid as he pulls him back to arm’s length. “Don’t be afraid to go to Pepper, or Happy. We’re all here to help you.”

The kid nods. “I know, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s serious expression doesn’t waver. “And don’t lose sight of normal life, okay? Don’t get caught up in all of this.” He smiles sheepishly. “Don’t be like me.”

Even through the suit he’s wearing, Steve can tell that the kid is doubtful about that last bit of advice. Still, as Tony steps back from him and goes back to join the first kid while Rhodes and Happy shake hands off to the side, Steve takes his chance to step forward.

The Spider kid’s body language is cautious as Steve approaches him, but he doesn’t back away or ignore him, which Steve counts as a good thing. “Hello, Mr., um…” Steve starts, not sure how to address him.

“Spiderman,” the kid provides.

Steve squashes the urge to shake his head. He doubts Spiderman is any older than a teenager, the way his voice sounds. He shouldn’t be here at all, much less out in Germany fighting Tony’s battles, but clearly, dressed in his suit, he’s planning to keep on being a superhero. If Steve brings him into the Avengers, he may be able to undo some of the damage Tony’s done, keep the kid in the training rooms and off the field for a while. He’ll need to know the kid’s actual name, though.

“I’m Steve, leader of the Avengers,” Steve says, holding out a hand.

The kid reaches out to shake it with a grip that’s near-crushing, even with Steve’s super strength. Wow. “I know, we’ve met,” he says, sounding entirely unimpressed. Very different from the stammering kid who’d seemed to be a fan of him in Germany. “And I’ve heard.”

Steve tries not to let his tone bother him. Obviously Tony’s been corrupting the kid already. It’s one more thing Steve will have to address with him, once they get past this ridiculous notion that Tony and Rhodes are moving out. “Well, I’m sure you’re aware of the Avengers, then, and the Accords. If you’re planning to work as a superhero, you’ll be joining our team, and I’m sure we’d like to get to know each other.”

Tony finishes whatever he’s doing with the other kid and comes strolling over, just as Spiderman steps back and shakes his head. “I have heard of the Accords, yeah, and in fact I’ve signed my own contract. Since I’m here, I can officially tell you that I’m not interested in joining the Avengers. I’ll be operating solo. And I’m going to be remaining masked. I’d rather keep my identity to myself.”

“What? You can’t do that,” Steve says, looking from the kid to Tony as he comes up to join them.

“Actually, you’ll find he can,” Tony says, the smug tone Steve has always hated back in his voice. “I’ve been having a lot of meetings with the Accords Council in the last week, doing a lot of negotiating on behalf of Spiderman here, and… potential others, in the future. I’ve managed to wrangle a separate sort of agreement. He’s signed an individual contract within the Accords, and he’s not required to join any kind of team or to reveal his identity to anyone, even the Council themselves. He has the entirety of SI’s legal department at his disposal when it comes to any contract renegotiations, changes, or other issues, so I’m sure he’ll be just fine.”

Steve just gapes at that for a moment. He had no idea Tony was going behind his back to talk to the Council. Is that what some of these supposed “SI meetings” have been about in the last two weeks? Is Tony trying to change his own contract too, is that why he thinks he can move out now?

Tony’s watch beeps and he looks down at it, then back at Spiderman. “Okay, we’ve got some others on the way. You’d better skedaddle before you draw too much attention to yourself. Go on, get yourselves home, huh?”

Spiderman turns to give Tony another brief hug. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. For everything.”

Steve might be imagining it, but Tony’s eyes shine just a little as he returns the hug gruffly. “Yeah, kid. Keep in touch. Now get out.”

Spiderman goes to grab the other teen and they move back to the car. Happy gives one last nod to his boss before sliding back behind the wheel. The car pulls away down the drive and disappears, just as another vehicle pulls up. This is one of the sleek silver SI company cars, and Steve isn’t too surprised, at this point, to see Pepper step elegantly out of the backseat when it comes to a stop.

Apparently Tony has invited a crowd to come and say goodbye. How very like him, Steve thinks, making a spectacle out of this. Perhaps he thinks if he brings all these people by to say goodbye to him, Steve will be forced to accept that he’s leaving. If so, he’s going to be disappointed.

Pepper comes up to hug Tony tightly, then pulls back to share a tender kiss. That surprises Steve a little; the last he’d heard, they had broken up. She puts her hands up to frame his face and spends a minute saying something to him, too soft for any of the others to hear.

When they’re done with their private moment, Tony steps back to a professional distance. “Everything set with SI?”

Pepper smiles. “You know it is. We just have to field test the new system you put in and—” she breaks off as another car approaches up the drive. This is becoming a circus, Steve thinks.

His exasperation fades into relief, however, when Ross steps out, flanked by two of his assistants. Finally, someone Tony listens to. Steve feels a little bad bringing Ross into this when he still suspects the General has been forcing Tony’s cooperation in some way, but he needs Tony to get this insane idea about moving out of his head. Steve can only help him with Ross if he stays in the Compound, where he belongs.

“Mr. Stark,” Ross says as he approaches them. It’s clear that he’s not happy at all about being dragged out here to deal with this.

“Ah, General,” Tony says, smile turning shark-like. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

Ross doesn’t look amused in the least. “I hear you are planning to move out of the Compound. You realize, of course, that that is a violation of the terms of your agreement with the Accords, as the Avengers team leader has designated the Compound as the required housing for all members of the team.”

Tony’s smile only widens. “That’s just fine. Pepper?” He holds a hand out without turning, and Pepper pulls a stack of papers from inside her bag and puts them in Tony’s hand. He holds them out to Ross. “This is my official resignation from the Avengers, as well as termination of any and all contracts I hold with the Accords Council, the US government or military, whatever is left of SHIELD, and anyone else affiliated in any way with Iron Man or the Avengers.”

Steve feels his heart dropping down to his feet, a lead weight, as Ross takes the proffered papers with a tight, unhappy expression. “What—you’re leaving?” Steve croaks.

“Sure am,” Tony says brightly, without even turning to look at Steve.

“You can’t just cancel contracts like this,” Ross says.

“It’s a done deal,” Tony fires back, “I can and I have. They’re done, canceled, terminated.”

Ross looks like he swallowed something unpleasant. Steve is still trying to force words to move past the lump in his throat when Clint speaks up from behind him. “Good riddance,” he sneers.

Pepper laughs from next to Tony, and everyone turns to look at her. She gives Clint a look that would make most men cower. “You’ll be changing your tune soon enough, Barton. Tony has legally transferred most of his property to Stark Industries, including this Compound. That means I now own it. And I can tell you right now, SI has no plans to continue supporting the Avengers in any capacity.”

That forces a startled noise out of Steve, and he hears sounds of protest from the others as well. He steps closer to where she, Tony, and Ross are standing. “But you’ve always supported us,” Steve manages.

Pepper looks at him like he’s something rotten she found on the bottom of one of her expensive shoes. “Yes, we have. And the Avengers have never been anything but a drain on resources. Twice a year, Tony has had to personally appear before the board and make his case for continued funding for the team, and they’ve always provided it, mostly out of good faith because of Tony himself. But now that he’s leaving, we have no reason whatsoever to waste our time or money on you.” She spits the last word like she’s talking about a disgusting insect.

“Then you won’t be supporting War Machine, either?” Ross says. He’s got a little half-smirk like he’s caught them in a trap. It fades, however, when Rhodes steps up, takes another set of papers from Pepper, and hands them to Ross himself.

“That would be my official resignation from the Avengers as well, General,” Rhodes says. “I got my honorable discharge. The last of my paperwork went through this morning—I’ve officially cut all ties with the Force. And now, I’m cutting ties with the Avengers.”

Ross looks even more like he’s tasted something bitter. Steve looks between the four of them, desperately searching for something to salvage the situation and coming up short. Everyone else bursts into protests practically simultaneously. Most of them are questioning—or insulting—Tony, who ignores them all.

Finally, Nat moves forward to stare Tony down. “This is childish,” she tells him, “kicking us out, acting like we don’t matter to you, because you’re upset that we didn’t agree with you. You said yourself that the Avengers are needed for something bigger than this.”

It’s the trump card that Steve knows she’s been waiting to play. Tony is always talking about what he saw through that portal, constantly worrying about planetary defense, telling them that they need to be ready for something. Steve has always thought he was being paranoid, but if that paranoia keeps him here now, Steve will take it.

Tony looks utterly unimpressed by her, however. “Yeah, that’s what I used to think. But now I’ve found a better option. Someone who’s guaranteed me that they’ll be able and willing to defend the Earth when the time comes, so I’m going to put my eggs in that basket, before you all break any more of them.”

He’s practically sneering at Natasha, who bristles at the tone, wrong-footed by his lack of response to her persuasion. “So, what, you’re just going to move away and pretend we don’t exist? Run off to another city, or what, another country? Just so you can feel like you’ve cut us off for good? How far will you go before it’s enough?”

Tony laughs again, but it’s not the carefree, happy laugh from before. This one is cruel and biting. “Sweetheart, there’s no place on Earth that could possibly be far enough from you.”

Nat opens her mouth to say something else, but Tony’s watch beeps again and he holds up a hand. “Okay, you’re all going to have to move back now. My guest is arriving.”

Steve frowns. None of them are standing in the driveway, and only Ross’s and Pepper’s cars are taking up any space. There’s plenty of room. But then Tony is ushering them all backwards, behind the bags that he and Rhodes have piled on the lawn, clearing a large space in the yard.

Steve hears Natasha’s soft intake of breath and understands a moment later. They all back up and look up to the sky, waiting expectantly. Sure enough, a moment later, a shape becomes visible above them, growing larger all the time as it descends toward them.

At first, it reminds Steve of one of the Wakandan ships, sleek and beautiful. But as it comes closer, Steve can tell that it’s even more advanced than that. He can’t see any kind of propulsion system. There are no visible seams, no landing gear, nothing that an airborne transport typically needs.

As it lowers to the grass smoothly, touching down without a single sound, Steve sees that it’s decorated with a design, a double ring of some sort of silver symbols he doesn’t recognize. The suspicion in the back of his mind is confirmed when Thor lets out an audible sound of amazement from behind him.

The ship stands still in front of them for a moment, and then a ramp descends soundlessly from the bottom, down to the ground. A moment later, a figure appears on it, walking toward the assembled group. It’s a young woman, as far as Steve can tell. She looks entirely human to him. She’s wearing an elaborate, flowing outfit that changes colors as she walks, and a delicate silver headpiece. She descends the ramp with a serene smile.

Thor steps up to the front of the group. When she approaches, he hastily kneels in front of her. “Queen Amilie,” he says, bowing his head, “I was not expecting your arrival.”

She just continues to smile down at him. “Rise, Prince Thor, there’s no need to kneel in front of me.” Her voice is unremarkable; plain, unaccented English. Steve wonders if she’s another Asgardian, but then, Thor addressed her as “Queen,” and she doesn’t look old enough to be Thor’s mother—Steve thought she was dead anyway—or his bride.

Thor rises. He towers over her in height, but she carries herself so surely that she seems to overwhelm him in presence. Maybe it’s just her fancy clothes, or Steve’s perception of her as an apparently powerful alien. “I hear you’re on your way back to Asgard,” she says conversationally. “I’m interested to hear what you’ll find there. Odin has certainly been making some interesting choices of late, opening up conversations with other Realms, looking for peace in places his reputation suggests he wouldn’t.”

“Indeed, I have heard of some strange rumors myself in my time away. I plan to investigate very thoroughly.”

The woman’s expression turns more serious. “Do that. You have heard of the Mad Titan and his path? Tolsar plans to enter talks with Asgard very soon, regarding the Infinity Stone you have in your possession.”

Thor nods, but before he can say anything else, Ross speaks up from behind them. “Excuse me, but who the hell are you?”

His voice is tense, and when Steve turns, he sees that Ross’s assistants both have guns out, though held at their sides for the moment. Steve stiffens at the sight of them and can feel that most of the rest of his team does too, but Thor and the newcomer don’t seem concerned.

Thor does turn, however, to glare at Ross. “Please show respect,” he demands. “This is Amilie the Goddess, Queen of Tolsar.” None of the titles mean anything to Steve, but he assumes from the way Thor says them that they’re meant to be impressive.

“Tolsar?” Sam asks with a frown. When Steve turns to glance at him, he notices for the first time that someone is missing from the group: Bucky. He must have slipped away some time during the arrival of various people out on the lawn. Steve doesn’t know whether to be grateful or not that Bucky’s not here to see the arrival of a strange alien ship and queen—he probably wouldn’t deal with it well.

“Tolsar is a small planet just off of the core galactic ring, the most densely populated part of the galaxy,” Amilie explains. “It’s a conglomerate, a society made of beings from many different species, all coming together to pursue a cooperative lifestyle.” A lot of big words, mostly meaningless to Steve.

“They are well-known and respected throughout the galaxy for their advancements in many areas,” Thor adds, and Steve is grateful for it. That means something to him, more than her flowing words. “They only allow the best to live on their planet. Experts in various areas.”

Steve thinks that sounds a bit elitist and unrealistic, but Thor seems to be taking the woman very seriously. She smiles at his description and moves around the group to where Tony and Rhodes are standing near the back.

She stops in front of them, and they both move in unison, shifting to give her a strange sort of one-armed salute, which she mirrors. Steve has no idea what’s going on, and he sees the same confusion on the others’ faces, but Thor is gaping at the three of them.

“Are you ready to go?” she asks, and they both nod. “Then go ahead and bring your things. We’ll be leaving shortly.”

Tony and Rhodes nod again and move to their piles of bags, gathering the first few and moving up to the ship with them. Steve just watches them, frozen in place. They’re leaving. They’re not just moving out, they’re leaving the planet. They’re about to get on an alien ship and disappear.

Thor watches them, just as stunned. “They are… going back to Tolsar with you?” he asks the queen.

She nods. “They’ve both been accepted as citizens there. I extended the offer to them, in fact, and I’ve come to bring them back personally, since I was the one who vouched for them and submitted their requests.”

Thor just blinks. Steve finally recovers his voice again as Tony and Rhodes come back down to grab more of their bags. He moves forward to meet them, imploring. “Tony, please, you can’t leave.”

Tony glares at him. His friendly pretense and his forced neutrality are gone. “I sure as hell can, Steve, and I am. You can’t stop me.”

“Whatever’s wrong, we can fix it. Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for how things turned out, okay? Don’t leave just because of this.”

“Because of what?” Tony asks, slinging another bag over his shoulder. “There are a hell of a lot of reasons I’m leaving. You had a hundred chances to try to make things better and you didn’t take a single one of them. I’m done waiting for you all to stop dumping every one of your problems on me. I’m done being your punching bag and your sugar daddy.”

Tony turns to stride back to the ship. Steve feels his fists clenching at his sides, watching Tony turn his back to him. “You can’t abandon the Avengers!”

Thor is the one who answers while Tony continues walking away, Rhodes coming down from the ship to pick up more bags as Tony disappears up into it. Thor shakes his head at Steve’s anger, stepping into his path. “You Earth people don’t know of Tolsar, but to live there is considered a great opportunity. Citizenship is not offered to many, and few are considered qualified. Many people would give up everything they have, leave their homes and lives behind, for the opportunity to live on Tolsar. If it is between remaining here on Earth and moving there, it’s hardly a choice at all.”

Steve opens his mouth, incensed, but Tony returns just as Thor finishes his speech. He smiles and pats Thor on the arm. “Thanks, big guy. You’re one of the few things I might actually miss here. But maybe I’ll see you on Tolsar someday, huh?”

Thor smiles at that. “I would like to meet again, Stark. You are a worthy man.”

Rhodes comes back from the ship once more and grabs the last of the bags as Ross steps up, practically spitting fire. “You can’t just cancel contracts and leave like this. You signed legally binding documents. You have accounts feeding into Avengers funds. You have ties everywhere. Someone has to pay for that.”

Tony chuckles coldly. “I’m sure someone will, but it sure as hell won’t be me. Don’t worry, I went over all the legal stuff with my team. I made very sure that I was the only one involved in any of my contracts. You can’t hold my company legally responsible for things I, alone as an individual, signed. The Avengers’ funds? Those are drawing on empty accounts I set up in their names, and they signed the paperwork. I didn’t contribute a cent to them in the past month—you all just assumed I would, and you spent money you didn’t have. Good luck trying to pay it back.”

“That’s fraud!” Ross is nearly shouting now.

Tony just stares him down. “Whether it legally is or not, it really doesn’t matter. Like I said, I’m the only one who can be held responsible for it, and I’m leaving. You can write a complaint letter or hell, get a subpoena or an arrest warrant and launch it into space if you really want. Somehow I doubt it’ll reach Tolsar.” He smirks and turns to head back to the ship.

All of their bags are inside now and Amilie and Rhodes are standing on the ramp, waiting. “Wait!” Steve finds himself shouting, moving forward. He needs to say something, anything, to make Tony understand that this is a mistake, that they can still go back, fix all of this.

The look on Tony’s face when he turns back to face Steve tells him that he’s already lost. Steve tries anyway. He’ll always try. He can’t just give up. “Tony… you’re leaving your team. Your family.”

Tony pauses, looking around at all of them gathered on the grass. Steve sees his eyes linger on each of them, and for a moment actually feels a tiny flare of hope. But Tony crushes it. “You can take your ‘family’ and shove it up your ass,” he says, his voice colder than the Siberian tundra where Steve had shattered what was left of their friendship. “I want nothing to do with it.”

With that, Tony turns and walks the rest of the way to the ship. He steps halfway up the ramp and then stops once more, turning back to all of them. “Oh, and by the way,” he says, and the shark smile is back in place. “I was going to just let you all find out on your own, but for the sake of not keeping secrets,” he looks right at Steve, who has to resist the urge to drop his eyes in shame, “I’ll tell you now.”

Tony looks down at them from his place on the ship’s ramp and Steve knows a crushing moment of dread. Whatever is coming, it’s his fault. He drove Tony away, and now Tony’s vengeance is coming down on all of them.

Tony’s smile is genuine, and that hurts. He’s enjoying this. “Three days ago, I sat down with Christine Everhart for a long interview. I brought her some goodies as well, you know, documents, records, old SHIELD files, videos from my suit or surveillance cameras or the Compound or old, abandoned HYDRA bunkers…”

An icy feeling is spreading through Steve as Tony continues. “I told her in great detail all of the reasons I’m leaving now. In the interest of being honest, I told her everything. Like all the details of Germany and how our meeting about the Accords went. Like why, exactly, Ultron was created, and how my program ended up corrupted by the Mind Stone.” He looks to Wanda, who’s frozen, stony-faced.

“Or you know, everything I saw—and recorded—on the Raft.” He winks down at Ross, who looks like he’d like nothing more than to put a bullet between Tony’s eyes. Tony ignores him, turning to look down at Steve.

“And I told her every detail of what happened in Siberia. I gave her the videos to prove it. So don’t worry. You all wanted the truth out there? It’s going to be out there.” He spreads his arms magnanimously, then looks down at his watch. “In fact, the story should be breaking in about… five minutes.” He gives them all one last broad, blinding smile. “Good luck.”

And the three of them disappear into the ship. The ramp retracts and the ship rises, silent and elegant, and disappears into the sky within a minute. Steve doesn’t notice the others moving around him. He doesn’t hear Pepper getting back into her car and leaving. He doesn’t hear Ross shouting for his assistants to contact the media, to try to block the story—doesn’t hear their apologies, or their hasty retreat when Ross goes practically wild at hearing that the story’s already broken and rapidly going viral.

He just stands there on the lawn outside the Compound, the place that’s no longer his home, the place he’s being kicked out of. Him and his team, who are about to be destroyed in the public eye by incriminating videos and the testimony of a man they’d hurt so badly that he just left the planet for good. Steve stands there in the grass, feeling colder than when he crashed that plane in the Arctic, and wishes for a fervent, selfish moment that he’d never come out of the ice at all.

Tony got what he wanted. They’re done.