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Steve hovered in the doorway of Tony’s room, hesitantly wondering what he was even doing here. He was sure he was the last person Tony wanted at his bedside, their last exchange had made that abundantly clear.
No trust - liar!
The accusing words echoed in his mind, but they weren’t enough to pull Steve away. Tony was alive. Weak, but alive - and his spirit was as strong as ever. Steve had thought that he was gone, disintegrated into nothing. Like Bucky, like Sam. Like half of the population.
So he honestly didn’t give a damn if he had the right to be here or not. Didn’t care if Tony hated him. Blamed him. If Pepper and Rhodey were all the support he would ever need.
Steve had to be here. Had to check on Tony, make sure he was alright. Savour the fact that Tony was here, breathing – unsteadily, but breathing all the same.
Shaking off the insecurity that held him back, Steve strode into the room and took a seat at Tony’s bedside, relieved that he’d found a moment where no one else was hovering. He could do this with an audience, but it wouldn’t be pretty.
Steve sat there, content with the quiet, as he took Tony in. Cataloguing all the differences he saw now from what he remembered the last time – the last time he saw him. Not the best comparison, seeing as he’d been bruised and bloody, but he hadn’t been this gaunt. Steve couldn’t even bear to think about it, Tony floating out there in the middle of space. No fuel, no food, no hope. It was horrifying.
He couldn’t thank Carol Danvers enough for what she had done. Not that he’d actually done that, but he definitely should.
“Steve.”
The voice was flat. Groggy, but unmistakably not pleased to see him. Well, he’d expected that. He met Tony’s narrow-eyed gaze with determination.
“Hi.”
“What do you want?”
“I, um, wanted to… check on you.”
“Well, you checked, you’ve seen. I’m fine. You can go now.”
“Please, Tony. Don’t send me away.” If he had to plead, he would.
“Why?” He asked warily. “Haven’t we said all we need to say?”
“It was mostly you who did the talking.” He pointed out. Tony merely raised a brow, as if to say exactly. “I just-I care about you, and I-”
“You care?” Tony scoffed. “Oh really? I must have missed that memo.”
It twisted the knife in Steve’s chest, every scathing comment. But he knew he had earned them, that was the worst part. Knowing how much he’d hurt Tony, and this was the result.
“I know I have no right, Tony. I know I lost that the minute I chose to walk away. That it meant giving you up. I wasn’t there when you needed me and I don’t get to be all concerned for you now. But fuck that.”
Tony reared back in shock, but Steve wasn’t done. “I may not have the right, but I’m damn well taking it anyway. Because I am concerned. And I do care. And maybe I was okay with you never talking to me again. But you being gone? Dead, disintegrated, lost in the void of space? I’m not okay with that. So hate me, yell at me. But I’m gonna sit right here, until I can breathe again, knowing you’re alright.”
By the time he finished talking, Steve had gotten so worked up he was almost panting. He took a few moments to catch his breath, watching a myriad of emotions flick through Tony’s expressive brown eyes.
“That was… a better apology from you then I was expecting. Which is good, actually. I fucking hate apologies.” Tony grinned, but Steve could see the sincerity behind the flippant remark. Something in him warmed. He’d been braver with his words then he had felt, full of self-recrimination and worry, but here Tony was, smiling at him.
“You know what else would make a really good non-apology?”
“What?” Steve asked, sure that by the way Tony’s eyes danced he was up to no good.
“Everyone’s insisting I go slow, eat light, healthy meals… but I am really craving something delicious. Greasy. Filling.”
Steve hesitated. They had a point, Tony hadn’t been eating properly and he didn’t want to do anything to hurt his recovery…
“Oh come on, Steve. I’ve been dreaming of the food I would eat. You wouldn’t deprive me of this one, simple thing now would you? You are sorry, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, brows knitted. He knew Tony was manipulating him, but he really wanted to make him happy. Give Tony something he couldn’t get from anyone else. Which was something he should probably think about… later. “I suppose I could make you some bacon…” Tony rolled his hand in a keep going gesture. “Sausages, pancakes, hash browns, eggs?”
“Yes. All of that. I need it.” Tony put his hands together imploringly.
“Fine,” Steve relented. “It’ll be our little secret though, okay?” The last thing he needed was Pepper or Bruce on his case.
Tony put his finger to his lips, eyes twinkling.
Was Steve trying to buy Tony’s affection with food? Possibly. He knew it wasn’t that simple, not by a long shot. But it was a start, right?
As Steve got up and left the room it occurred to him that Tony was getting his wish after all, convincing him to leave the room. When all he’d wanted was to stay. But glancing back at Tony before he walked out the door, Steve saw the excitement in his eyes. He wanted him to come back. And that was worth everything, really.