Chapter Text
Two weeks after Tony makes it back to Earth, he and the surviving Avengers help the NYPD try to stem a rising tide of looting and rioting.
“Hey, Craptain,” someone shouts. “Craptain America.”
Tony turns.
Steve stands frozen, his body a long, taut wire.
Three feet away looms a man with eyes as blue as Steve’s. Rage stains his cheeks red. “Fuck you.”
Tony stalks toward them, stopping on Steve’s right. “Have some respect.”
“Respect? He should be dust.” The man rears back and spits.
Spittle gleams on Steve’s cheek; something inside Tony wrenches.
“You’re right,” Steve says, chin tipped down.
Tony materializes cloth from his suit and reaches toward Steve’s face.
Steve’s gloved hand catches Tony’s gauntleted wrist—and doesn't let go. “Leave it.”
“No.” Tony wipes with his free hand. “He’s wrong.”
Under his touch, Steve shakes his head.