Archive of Our Own

The dance was wonderful. 

He swung Peggy around, relishing the feel of her arm around his shoulders, her delicate fingers wrapped in his. For a moment, he allowed himself to be lost in the music and the rustle of her dress and the warmth of her. It was easy to pretend that seventy years hadn't been stolen from them. It was easy to think that she had waited for him. 

It was too easy. 

She tilted her head back to look up at him, and her earnest eyes implored him to make a move. And he did.

He bent, and his lips brushed hers.

And it was wonderful. 

And perfect. 

And everything he had ever hoped it could be.

And then she flushed. The hot pink warmed high on her cheeks and she pulled back, withdrawing her hand. 

"Steve, I can't… I'm so sorry!… I'm married."

Steve felt the blood rush to his ears and he stammered, as awkward and wrongfooted as he'd been before the serum had altered him. 

"Of… Of course! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have-" 

He bowed his head. The shame stealing the joy from the moment because he had known. He had seen the photo on her desk in the nursing home. A man Steve had never met with his hand wrapped around her waist. A picture that even now hung on the wall.

Her eyes softened with sympathy. She reached for him, clasping his fingers tightly in both her hands. 

"No, Steve… It's my fault...I should have said something sooner… I'm so sorry Steve." 

Her eyes widened, and he felt his heart tug with longing, but he knew it was destined to fail. He wasn't made to belong, no matter where he went or who he met.

"It's alright," he said gently when the silence stretched too long between them. 

He turned his palm to her cheek, cupping it gently. The sadness stretched between them, eternally deep and fathomless.

She cleared her throat and turned her eyes back to the desk. The papers scattered over the surface told of the hours they'd been hunched over it, before the song had come on the radio, inspiring her to invite him to dance.

"We should probably ask Howard to take a look at all this," Peggy said, deliberately steering the conversation back to the mystery at hand.

But before the sentence was out of her mouth, Steve was shaking his head. "Can't, I wasn't even supposed to talk to you. You caught me by surprise." 

Which wasn't entirely true. No one snuck up on Steve Rogers. Not with his serum-enhanced hearing that could hear the spike in people's heartbeats when he drew near, and her with her snapping red heels that demanded she be seen. They both knew it was a lie. Still, she smirked.

"Well it's a good thing I did. Can't imagine what would have happened if someone else had found you sulking around in Dr. Zola's workspace."

"Nothing good," Steve agreed.

The moment ruined, he dropped his hand and returned to the desk. The desk was overflowing with pages and pages detailing the Tesseract and its properties. Measurements and calculations and notes and more notes. He had already committed every word of it to memory, along with every picture, sketch and rendering of the cube. 

Amongst the pages were Howard Stark's journals, as well as Dr. Zola's notes, seized by S.H.I.E.L.D years before and accessible only by those with the highest security clearance. 

Thankfully Peggy was one of those, and once Steve had explained what - without diving too deep into the why - he needed, she had jumped into action. Within hours she had procured not only Howard's journals, and Dr. Zola's notes, but also a detailed history of everything S.H.I.E.L.D had used the Tesseract for, and its future plans. 

Steve had to actually bite his tongue when she showed him the pages in Howard's journals suggesting the Cube may be powerful enough to facilitate a doorway through space. The man was certainly a mind above for his time. It was easy to see where his son's brilliance came from.

Zola's journals were considerably harder to decipher. They were written mostly in German and heavily coded on top of that. But once they broke the code, Steve found the notes to be things he already knew, though Peggy arched her brow in interest when she read about the Cube being used to power weapons strong enough to take down a plane. Steve thought it was a grievous understatement of the destructive power of the Stone.

Not wanting to dwell on the ruined moment, Steve ruffled through the pages on the desk, looking for something - anything - they might have missed. Before long his hand went to his brow, and he blew out a frustrated breath. 

Getting the Stone out of the Cube had been easy; they had simply broken the Cube. But now…. He couldn't exactly put a rock back where the Cube had been. And there was essentially nothing written on how to turn it back into the Tesseract. In fact, nothing in the pages suggested knowledge that the Tesseract was the Space Stone at all.

And it wasn't the only Stone he was going to have to change the composition of, he thought with a frustrated huff. Inside the suitcase safely tucked away in the little apartment Peggy had procured for him, the Mind Stone, and the Reality Stone, were both going to have to go through similar changes.

"We've got to be missing something." Steve brushed a hand over the pages.

"This is everything we have," Peggy said gently. "Though I can see if I can get you a pass to the archives. Maybe there's something in there?"

"That would be great."

Steve picked up one of Howard's journals again, flipping through the pages. For a fleeting moment, and not for the first time, he was struck by how familiar the handwriting was. Like the pen had barely kept up with the impulsive, demanding thoughts. So like him…

In a moment of reverie, Steve found himself stroking the page, longing for his friend. 

"How are the new interns fairing?" He asked casually.

Too casually for the ever-perceptive Peggy Carter. "Are you asking about all the interns or Howard Potts?"

Steve glanced up in surprise, catching her smile.

"I saw you yesterday," she said by way of explanation. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone jump into a broom cupboard so fast."

"There could have been a national threat in that closet," Steve said, ignoring the flush that crawled up his neck. 

She rolled her eyes, her lips pressed into a knowing smile. "You should just talk to him," Peggy said.

"I can't." Steve shook his head, and the disappointment flooded his face.

"Steve," her hand came to rest gently on his arm, "you don't have to worry about what people think."

"What people think?" He scrunched his forehead in confusion, looking up at her and seeing the softness in her eyes. The gentleness that she so rarely showed anyone else.

"I know a lot of people think it's wrong," she said, "but you can't help how you feel."

"How I feel?" He frowned and then the dawning, "Oh… ohh….." he shook his head. "It's nothing like that!"

"Okay." But her lip tilted up in a half smile, like she was in on a secret.

Steve sighed, but before he could say any more to deny the direction of their conversation, she spoke again.

"The interns -" he caught the arch of her brow on the word, "-are settling in well. And Mr. Potts is already showing himself to be well ahead of his peers."

Because he was. Of course he was.

"Good," Steve said with a smile. "I'm really glad to hear."

And he was, even if he could only enjoy it from afar.

Something inside him twisted at the thought. But he owed Tony that much, if nothing else. The right to live his life the way he wanted.

And if he was being honest, it was partly a defence mechanism. Because once he figured out how to turn the Space Stone back into the Tesseract, he would have to leave. And he wasn't sure he had the strength to walk away from the realest friend he'd ever known. 

Not again.

*****

It was three weeks later, with Steve being frustratingly no further ahead on Project Turn Stone Into Cube. Peggy had given him security clearance to S.H.I.E.L.D's archives, using the alias Agent A, which was also how she'd procured the apartment for him, it turned out. As far as anyone in the building was concerned, he was a secret agent from abroad working for Peggy.

Going through S.H.I.E.L.D archives in 1970 was certainly more cumbersome than in 2012, Steve lamented. What had taken Tony mere minutes with the help of his computer tech was taking Steve days, opening banker box after banker box, scouring the pages for any mention of the Stones, the Tesseract, or any hint of how the Stone had become a cube in the first place.

While he didn't ask her to, Peggy kept him updated on the status of the 'interns'. Which meant he knew that Tony had quickly garnered himself a place in the fledgling R&D division of S.H.I.E.L.D.

"I've never seen anything like it," Peggy said, sipping her tea under the lamp Steve had put on the table for her benefit. She paused to look up as Steve flipped through the files in what was probably the seven hundredth banker box. "It's like his mind is on an entirely different wavelength than anyone else. You should see the stuff he's built! He built a mini helicopter out of junk, Steve! A working helicopter!"

"He's pretty good at building stuff," Steve said absently, then caught himself and flushed. 

He glanced up at her and caught that look on her face. He'd been getting it a lot from her recently.

He found himself stuck between wanting to explain - which would jeopardise Tony's new life - or accepting the implications behind the look; that he knew because he noticed Tony. 

Which, of course, he would have noticed Tony. Everyone noticed Tony. Tony wasn't the kind of person who blended into a crowd. In any timeline. 

But Peggy thought he noticed Tony… and well that was just inaccurate. For one thing, Steve had accepted his lot in life as the eternal bachelor. And for two, it was Tony.

She let the emotions play out on his face for only a moment before she pushed the second cup of tea towards him. "Why don't you go introduce yourself?"

Steve's lips twitched. "I can't." 

She rolled her eyes. "You keep saying that, but I think he would like someone to talk to. He seems… lonely."

Steve grimaced, and of course she saw it. But he was lost for a moment in the memory. 

"People die, Rogers. That's the natural order of things. This is what's supposed to happen." Strange's words.

And his answer, "Not Tony. Not like this. I don't accept that."

"What you're asking me to do, Captain Rogers, it goes against nature."

"Well, if you want me to bring back the Stones, then you'll do it."

"Captain… You know no one else can do it."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"Look," Peggy said, nudging the cup closer to him, waking him from his thoughts. "I'm not telling you what to do, but I just think it would be good for him - and you - to make some friends around here."

Steve felt the sting of those words, and while he knew Peggy saw through it, he plastered a smile on his face. "I'll take it under consideration."

The way the corner of her eyes tightened told him she didn't believe him. But she let the matter drop.

And if she noticed the next day that Steve donned a cap and some extra dark shades to happen by the Robotics Division of S.H.I.E.L.D, she didn't mention it. Nor did she mention it when he stood for several long moments, staring through the glass at the white coat and black hair of the man he had threatened a wizard for.

*****

"Nothing!" Steve growled in frustration as he slammed the last box onto the floor, only barely resisting the urge to kick it across the room.

Peggy looked up from a stack of forms she was flipping through on a clipboard. She had long ago relented that she had no idea what Steve was actually looking for, and instead opted to simply keep him company while she did her work. With a painted nail, she pushed the reading glasses up her nose and cast a wary look at the offending box.

"Maybe it would help if you told me exactly what you were looking for," she said.

Steve looked up, meeting her too knowing eyes and shook his head. "I wish I could, but you have to trust me when I say I can't."

"Okay," she said easily, tapping her pen against the clipboard for a moment before she put it down. "But maybe you should take a break."

He huffed in agitation, staring gloomily at the box and its lack of answers.

She folded her glasses and stood up. "Come on Steve, let's go get some fresh air."

Steve almost refused. He looked around the room. Thousands of boxes. Hundreds of thousands of pieces of paper, detailed with all manner of things from the ordinary to the alarming and horrific. And not a single clue. Not even a passing mention of the Stones. 

Peggy held out her hand, and Steve hesitated only until he realised his fists were curled into balls and he desperately needed the distraction. He let her guide him to his feet.

They had only barely stepped through the doorway when a freckled redhead boy came running down the hall, waving a paper in his hand. 

"Ms. Carter! Ms. Carter! There you are!"

Peggy straightened, her eyes narrowing and her shoulders drawing back. A woman prepared to leap into action, whatever action that may be.

Instinctively, Steve's body did the same, and he itched for his shield. To feel the familiarity of it.

"Bobby?" Peggy said. "What is it?"

"Mr. Stark… has been… trying to… reach you!" The boy, Bobby, said between gasps.

"Whatever for?" Peggy asked at the same time Steve stiffened.

Steve may be actively avoiding Howard, as the only person besides Peggy who was likely to recognise him, but he felt something protective and carnal surface in him. 

"Where is he? Is he alright?" Steve asked.

The boy gave Steve a bewildered look, and Steve realised that it may come across as odd for 'Agent A' to have an invested interest in Howard Stark's well being.

"Oh, he's fine," Bobby said to Steve before turning his attention to Peggy, "Maria went into labour this morning. He was trying to find you to talk to you about getting S.H.I.E.L.D backing for a new project. He says it's urgent." 

Bobby thrust the papers he was holding into Peggy's hand.

"Maria is in labour?" Peggy asked, her eyes going wide as she took the papers and studied them for a moment. "What on earth is Howard doing here then?"

Bobby shrugged. "You know Mr. Stark… always working."

"Impossible man," Peggy grumbled, flipping the page. 

The stamp definitely labelled the message as 'URGENT.' The words 'Darren Cross' and 'Cross Particles' accompanied the label. Steve wasn't looking per-say, but he might have also seen a rather alarming dollar value attached to the bottom. 

Peggy's eyes narrowed and she sighed, her shoulders drooping. "I'm sorry Steve, I should go see to this."

"Of course," Steve said, waving his hand to indicate she should go.

She paused to squeeze a hand over his arm before she hurried off, following Bobby through the maze of doors and corridors. Which left Steve standing awkwardly in the hallway, debating on what to do next. He could go back into the room and keep searching, hoping he'd missed something. But he knew he hadn't. 

And then a thought that took longer to realise than it should have dawned on him. Maria was in labour. 

It was Tony's birthday. 

Before he could stop himself, he found his feet moving towards the R&D wing.

He navigated the halls easily, and not for the first time found some dark humour in the fact there was a giant poster of 'Captain America' hanging over a drinking fountain reminding the passerbyers to 'Stay Hydrated'.

The self-depreciating smile fell away as he found his favourite glass window. Inside, the techs bustled around, staring into microscopes, and writing on white boards. But between the Korean man with the awkward off-centre moustache, the young blond woman who seemed almost to be a girl, and a man that may have been Rhodey's twin, it was obvious that Tony was missing.

Steve told himself it was nothing. Tony was probably out celebrating. The man had always been one to throw ridiculous bashes on his birthday. 

But when the woman exited the room, passing near him, he couldn't help but ask, "Where's Howard Potts?"

She paused, as if startled he had spoken and stared at him with wide eyes. 

For a moment he thought he wouldn't get an answer, but she said, "He's not in today, something about needing to take his grandma to the hairdresser."

Steve repressed the need to roll his eyes. "I see…"

The girl looked him up and down a time or two, then looked back into the room. Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth, and then the words fell out, tinged with accusations, "He knows you watch him." 

"He does…?" Steve flushed, and then he felt like a fool. 

Stealth had never exactly been Steve's strong suit, and Tony was beyond brilliant. He would know Steve had come back for the Space Stone. Which meant he knew Steve was still there and had been avoiding him.

The girl rolled her eyes. "We all know. You stand here for hours."

"It's not hours…" Steve was quite certain the longest he'd ever stood in this spot had been forty-five minutes.

She shrugged like it didn't matter. "Sure, if you say so." 

Then she turned to leave, white lab coat swirling wide as she did.

"Wait," Steve said, a little too desperately.

She turned around, her eyebrows low in annoyance. "What?"

"Does he say anything about…" Steve stammered for a moment, not sure if he wanted the answer, "about me?"

The girl's eyebrows lifted with that same damned look Peggy got when he said something that made her question his motivation for having an interest in Tony's well being.

"Nothing really. Just that you remind him of someone he used to know," she said. 

Steve felt his shoulders drop, though he wasn't sure why he was disappointed. "Anything else?"

She gnawed her lip, and Steve saw a flush fall over her cheeks. Then she steeled her shoulders and met his eye again. "That the guy he used to know had the balls to say 'hello'."

Ouch .

"Thanks…" A wave of chagrin washed over him. 

The girl brightened with a smirk. "You're welcome." And then she turned and walked down the hall.

Steve hovered a moment longer. Long enough for the Korean man to look up and wave. Gig was up.

*****

"Grandmother's hair…" Steve muttered with a shake of his head. 

It was the next day. He was standing in front of the same window. Tony had yet to return to work, and the Korean man had waved again.

The blond had told him that apparently Tony's grandmother needed to go back to the hairdresser. Steve wondered if she was covering for Tony or if he was actually expecting people to believe that excuse.

"It's a boy," Peggy said, finding Steve next to the window.

Steve jumped, to the quirk of Peggy's eyebrow before he settled and asked, "How is Maria?"

"Recovering. It was a hard labour. They nearly lost the baby."

Steve grimaced.

"Cord around his neck," she said by way of explanation. "Maria and the baby are still in the ICU. Hopefully they'll be released tomorrow."

"He'll be okay…" Steve said, and Peggy gave him a sideways look at the tone of confidence. "Is Howard with them now?"

The grimace on Peggy's face answered before she did. "He's back at the office. Jarvis is with them though. They named the baby Anthony."

"That's good," Steve said, feeling the pang at hearing the name and feeling his thoughts drift once more to Tony and the nagging feeling in his chest. When Peggy arched her brow at him Steve amended, "That's a good name."

Peggy snorted so that Steve was forced to meet her eyes, to see that look on her face.

"Steve, Howard is okay."

"I'm sure he is, but he should be with Maria."

Peggy laughed, short and bitter. "That we can agree on, but I meant your Howard."

"My Howard?" Steve answered, confused at first before he chuckled in kind. 

"You should go check on him."

"I… I can't…" 

"Steve, stop making excuses and go talk to him." Peggy fixed him with her most soul-piercing stare. 

Peggy reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it reassuringly as she pressed a folded paper into his palm.

"Now go, soldier. I've given you an order."

Steve wanted to argue. He glanced down at the paper in his hand as he did.

' Don't mess it up. ' And an address.

He knew it well. He'd happened by the apartment occasionally on his morning runs, entirely coincidentally. The compound was only so big, and the S.H.I.E.L.D issued apartments were all relatively close to base.

"I can't…" Steve said softly.

"You can, and what's more, you should ," Peggy said gently, and she stood up on tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

He should have argued. But he couldn't. Not for the reason that look implied, but because he knew Tony needed him.

His feet started moving, and before long he found himself in the elevator.

He couldn't fool himself into thinking he was avoiding Tony for his own good any more. Not when that little voice in the back of his head that sounded an awful lot like Peggy told him there was something wrong. And he couldn't turn his back on his friend again, no matter how bad it was going to hurt when he was finally forced to leave again.

The building didn't stand out from the rest. It was one of many standard military built structures that had been designed for function over form. Plain, burgundy brick, with nondescript, dingy windows and a black fire escape crawling up the side. 

It was so opposite Tony that Steve checked the address again to be sure it was right. 

"Don't mess it up," Steve muttered. 

Maybe that reminder was needed too.

He hazarded a glance up at the window. Brownish curtains that had probably once been yellow blew out from under a dirty window pane propped up by a book on 'Innovative Computer Programming'. A human figure hovered behind the curtain. He couldn't see the face, but he'd recognise that slight build anywhere.

With a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders and forced his feet to move, trying to ignore the way his heart hammered in his chest as he mounted the stairs to the lobby door. 

But his senses were firing on high alert, hyper aware of everything. The way the door stuck when he pushed on it, and the floorboards creaked despite that his steps were light. The wiggle of the railing when he touched it as he climbed the old wooden stairs. The faded red wallpaper peeling at the seams, seemingly ready to blow down with a strong gust of wind. And above all else the pull he felt as he moved closer and closer. An insistent longing for the person that belonged to the familiar pattern of steps that Steve could hear shuffling about.

It was only when he glimpsed the door number written on the paper that he felt the cold dread of hesitation. 

The terrifying thought; Tony may not want to see him. 

In the heat of a universe-saving mission all had been easily forgotten. But in the peaceful aftermath… That transgression with Bucky had been grievously unforgivable. 

His steps slowed.

The plain wooden door loomed with the brass numbers naming it four-oh-five.

He lifted his hand, knuckles poised, and then the swirl of doubts froze his hand in place.

Would Tony answer the door at all? Steve felt an awful pang at the thought of being barricaded from Tony's life. Again.

He had the fleeting realisation that he had never knocked on Tony's doors… they had always just opened for him, a symbol of their friendship and mutual trust. And now he was about to knock. 

The metaphor was not lost on Steve.

He could hear Tony's breathing on the other side of the door. He imagined, at that moment, Tony was leaning on the door, waiting for Steve to gather the guts to ask for entrance, because Tony was a little bit sadistic like that.

"Come on, Rogers, get it together," he muttered under his breath then swallowed every ounce of pride and rapped once. 

The pause dragged on for several heartbeats. Long enough to cause more doubts.

And then the clicking of locks. One… two… three… It seemed an eternity later when the door finally fell inward by a fraction.

"So… am I supposed to ask for your name and badge number? Or are we skipping to the part where I invite you in for a drink?"

The dark eyes smirked, and he fell casually against the door jam, everything in his posture belying cockiness.

All Steve could do was stare.

He wasn't sure if time was moving more slowly or if he was frozen, but he took in the entire man before him in every excruciating detail. Taking his time to register each part and to assure the part of his brain that had somehow still doubted that this was indeed Tony Stark. And as he registered each familiar feature that thing in his stomach twisted tighter and tighter.

Dark smudges behind thick-rimmed glasses perched over glassy, red-rimmed eyes. Face pale with two days worth of overgrowth around the familiar goatee that arched on one side with amusement. Dark hair streaked with the beginnings of silver tousled into a windswept mess of curls that stuck up in every direction courtesy of two-day old product. He wore a faded black Black Sabbath T-shirt, the remnants of whatever he had eaten last already dried into an impossible stain down the front. His worn jeans hung way too loose around his hips. Tony had always been thin, but he had dropped more weight than Steve had realised. The lab coat had hidden it from behind, but Steve hadn't seen Tony look so rough since he had returned from nearly dying in space.

The sharpness was still in his eyes though. Tony Stark on his worst day was still brilliant and charming compared to the average man. 

When the awkwardness stretched on between them Tony's face split into a lopsided grin.

"I spent ten years wishing you would just shut up already," Tony said, "And now you won't speak."

"Tony…" Steve breathed.

The dark eyebrow arched and the stubbled lip twitched. 

Nerve struck, Steve realised. 

"That's my name."

"It's… it's good to see you," Steve said, unsure what else to say.

The eyes he had missed darkened to something Steve had seen enough times to know he wasn't just striking nerves but dancing on top of them. 

"I knew you'd become a coward, but I didn't realise you'd become a bald-faced liar too."

Steve winced. "I…I…" he stammered, looking for the right words. And when those wouldn't come, any words.

Tony let him stammer until Steve was sufficiently flustered. Eventually Steve huffed out a breath and shrugged in defeat.

"I don't know what to say, Tony."

Tony sighed, deep and aggravated. He looked over his shoulder, as if contemplating something complex and life-altering. When he looked back at Steve something in his expression softened.

He pushed the door open all the way.

"Get in here before I change my mind."

Steve hesitated.

The room beyond was dark, and Steve was hit with a blast of hot, muggy air and the scent of old whiskey.

Tony spun his finger in the air, making a hurry up gesture until Steve moved.

Steve passed close enough to hear the steady beating of Tony's heart. There was a strange comfort to the sound that Steve didn't pause to consider too thoroughly.

Steve stepped into the tiny, overcrowded kitchen. Between Steve, Tony, the tiny table with the two chairs and the standard kitchen appliances, Steve could hardly turn around without bumping both the table and refrigerator simultaneously. And when he did the table jingled with the assortment of coffee mugs crowded around the near-empty twenty-sixer.

Steve watched Tony shut the door, taking his time to relock the three locks. When he got to the last latch, Tony stretched and rubbed his hands together, only turning back to look at Steve when his features were perfectly composed into a dark smirk.

"Can't be too careful these days," he said. 

Steve knew better. This man had lunged headfirst into a flying alien whale. This man was brave to the point of recklessness and nothing that could be kept out by a sliding latch would scare him. But then Steve's sharp eyes went to the mottled scarring of Tony's right hand, the fingers not quite straightening fully. The damage must be worse than Steve had realised.

"It will heal," Tony said, drawing Steve's eyes back to his. "Another six months or so and I'll have full function. They gave me these exercises to do with a tennis ball."

"That's good," Steve said, choking on the words.

"Is it?" Tony's sharp eyes flicked over Steve. "You seem to have fared alright?"

Tony's dark eyes were full of questions, layered with apprehension. But Tony's lips pressed together, waiting for Steve to speak.

"I guess so," Steve said when the silence stretched too long again. But then he couldn't help himself but add, "Tony, what are you doing to yourself? You look awful…"

Tony's eyes narrowed but he smirked, as if in on a private joke. 

"Yeah, well you look…" Tony made a show of scanning him up and down a few times until Steve couldn't help but shift uncomfortably. "Like G.I.Joe went shopping at Walmart… what are you wearing?"

Steve looked down at his outfit; an 'ARMY' T-shirt and khakis. 

"It's a standard issue," Steve said, peeling the grey shirt away from his body only to let it fall back into place.

Tony snorted what was almost a real laugh. Almost. "Do they bother to ask your size before they give you clothes?"

"It was the largest they had." 

"I doubt that. Did the lovely Ms. Carter get it for you?"

Steve flushed. "She did."

"Figures. You know she just wanted to see your muscles, right?" 

Steve felt something tug at him. The familiarity of walking into Tony's teasing, of allowing the playful remarks, even though there was a hollowness underneath them. The words were real, but the mirth in Tony's eyes was forced.

"She's married."

Tony laughed too hard. "So am I. It's married, not dead "

Steve winced. Not dead.

Tony, no doubt, knew the implications of what he'd said, and at Steve's wounded expression he scoffed. 

"It was a joke, Cap. You know, like 'ha-ha'."

Tony made his way to the cupboard, brushing past Steve as he did and produced two more coffee mugs. His body was running hot, hotter than it should have been.

Steve narrowed his eyes. "Are you sick?"

"Of 1970, yeah, I am," Tony snorted. 

He turned back to the table and emptying the remainder of the whiskey into the two mugs. Almost carelessly, he shoved one at Steve.

"I don't-" Steve started but stopped when Tony fixed him with a glare. 

"Pretend you do."

Steve took the mug, and took an obligatory sip, holding back the grimace at the warm whiskey with Herculean effort.

Tony chuckled dryly. "Better. Now you're going to tell me what you're doing here?" 

He sat down in one of the chairs and gestured for Steve to join him.

"You weren't at work today," Steve said, lowering himself carefully into the opposite chair.

"Hardly a reason for a house call."

"You weren't in yesterday either."

Tony arched his brow in acknowledgment, lifting the mug to his lips. 

"Didn't know my father had hired Captain America as his truancy officer." Tony took a drink.

"He didn't." Steve looked down at his mug, swirling the amber liquid around like wine. "Have you spoken to him again? Since you've been back?"

The look on Tony's face answered more than his words did. "He was busy."

"I'm sorry, Tony."

Tony shrugged, as if it didn't bother him. But Steve knew him better than that. 

"How's work?" Steve asked.

Tony scoffed. "It's work."

Steve winced at the way Tony's dark eyes snapped to his, glittering.

"You going to tell me why you're actually here, Rogers?"

"It was your birthday."

"And I threw a party." Tony gestured to the assortment of mugs.

"Tony," Steve sighed, "don't do that."

Tony's eyes darkened to something dangerous and volatile. 

"Do what, Cap?" He tipped the mug back, draining the contents. "Historically I throw epic parties."

Steve shook his head. "Drinking alone is hardly a party."

Tony snorted. "So take a drink."

Steve did. The burn lingered on his tongue. He looked up and saw the look of pain cross Tony's face before he schooled his expression into something meaner and more calculated. 

"What happened to you, Tony?"

"Are you referring to the part where the wizard made me into an undead zombie? Or the part where I stand around here pretending to give a shit about things like pocket calculators and microprocessors?"

Steve winced. "Tony, I…"

"No!" The word was sharp, angry. "You don't get to pretend to care! You don't get to pretend you give a shit. That you're here for any reason other than that you can't figure out how to put the damn Stone back and you want my help."

Steve flinched back, but he knew better than to back down. He couldn't. "I do care about you."

Tony scoffed, and went to take another drink before staring balefully at the already empty mug. His hand tightened on the handle, and Steve wondered if the mug might break. 

"You have a funny way of showing it," Tony muttered.

Steve felt the flush of shame in his cheeks. "I know." He paused before he continued, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Tony."

"Oh, you didn't hurt me." Tony smirked, but when Steve looked up he saw the lie in those brown eyes. "Thanos hurt me, the Infinity Stones hurt me, you… and your 'secret mission' aren't even on the list."

Steve didn't believe it for a second, but he saw the steadfast resolve and he knew better. He'd spent a lifetime arguing with Tony, and he'd be damned if he was going to pick that up where they'd left off. 

"I'm still sorry."

Tony scoffed, looking away, but not before Steve saw the new gleam in his eyes. Shame pushed its way into Steve's chest. His friend was hurting, really hurting, and he'd been too busy worrying about putting the Stone back and protecting himself from the pain of losing Tony a second time to be there for him. 

Some friend he had been. 

"I wanted to come sooner, but I didn't want to make it harder."

"I don't think you could." The words were quiet, almost whispered.

Steve looked up, and maybe it was the friendship between them - not quite extinguished - or the alcohol making Tony's lips more pliant, but Tony dropped his empty mug onto the table, his chin falling. Steve hadn't seen Tony look so defeated in… ever. 

The words began to tumble out, "I'm a man out of time, Cap. I go to bed alone and I wake up from nightmares I can't outrun. I have to pretend I'm a nobody and go to work and tell people I burned my hand in an oven." 

He lifted the scarred hand so Steve could see the pattern of white lightning marks that all but mapped out the placeholders of the six stones. 

"The music sucks, and people talk funny, and I have to pretend I give a shit when it's all bullshit." 

Tony rolled his eyes with a huff and his shoulders fell.

"I miss Pepper, and Morgan… Rhodey, Happy… heck Peter…" 

He rubbed his scarred hand over his eyes, knocking his glasses up onto his forehead.

"But I can't go back. Because A.. I don't have any particles, and B.. Even if I got some, the wizard said it would doom them all, and I can't risk that. So I'm stuck here… working a bullshit job for a bullshit life." 

Tony looked up at Steve, locking eyes with him. The pain there was nearly overwhelming.

"So I don't see how you could possibly make this harder."

Steve felt the pit in his stomach tighten. He didn't know what possessed him to say it, but the words tumbled out of his mouth.

"But I could have made it better."

Tony snorted, but Steve caught the way his glassy eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Then Tony blinked, hard and fast, wiping at his eyes with his wrist. He looked miserable. Tired and miserable. And too broken. A man could only take so much.

"It's not your job to fix me, Cap," he said. "Your job is to put back the Stones do that they all have a future."

"Tony." The honesty of the next words made his chest swell and his throat tighten. "You're my friend, I'm here for you."

And because it seemed right, he reached across the space between them, gripping Tony's shoulder. His shoulder was too thin, but Steve felt the panther-like muscles relax under his hand, and he heard the breath leave Tony's body in a hitching gust.

When Tony looked back up his eyes were clearer.

"Thanks Cap," Tony said finally. "I'm glad you're here."

"Always." Steve said quietly, before he could stop himself.

The look on Tony's face darkened a moment before Steve realised he'd lied once more to Tony. Because he would have to leave, and Tony had to stay.

Tony shifted uncomfortably then pulled away, fixing his glasses as he did. He looked away, purposefully avoiding Steve's eyes.

"I need a shave and a shower." 

His voice was gruff, and Steve knew the dismissal for what it was.

"Thanks for the drink, Tony." He got up to leave. 

Tony nodded, once hard and sure, avoiding looking at Steve as he walked to the door.

It was only when Steve had unlocked the third latch that Tony twitched as if to stop him. Steve froze instinctively, looking over her shoulder at his friend.

"Tomorrow," Tony said suddenly, decisively. "We'll figure out the Stone tomorrow."

Steve saw the unspoken question there, and he smiled gently. "Of course. I'll see you tomorrow, Tony."

*****

"How long since you've eaten something?" Steve asked. 

It was the next day, and Tony was nursing somehow darker circles under his eyes. At least his coffee mug contained coffee this time.

"A while."

"You should be eating."

Tony forced a smirk that didn't touch his shadowed eyes. "You sound like Pepper."

"Yeah, well you never were very good at taking care of yourself. Come on, there's this pizza joint just a few blocks south. My treat."

"Is Captain America inviting me on a date?"

Steve rolled his eyes at Tony's raised eyebrow and quirked lip. "Not when you put it like that." 

Still, Steve felt something warm and secure in walking down to the pizza parlour with Tony. Tony wasn't talkative - not that Steve could blame him - but there was a comfort in simply being together. The familiarity of someone who truly knew him, and saw him for both his flaws but also his strengths and accepted both equally.

They ordered and Tony let Steve pay, because in this timeline Steve had a S.H.I.E.L.D issued credit card, and Tony had nothing but a couple bills in his pocket. Tony pointed out the irony with a bitter laugh.

"Yeah, well it's about time someone repaid the favour," Steve said earnestly. 

Tony accepted that and sat down willingly to eat. Though he began by simply picking at the toppings and throwing an olive in his mouth.

The silence stretched until Steve took two slices and made a pizza sandwich out of them. He heard the huff of a laugh and looked up to see Tony's brow arched with a faraway smile on his face.

"What?" Steve froze, the slices halfway to his mouth.

"Nothing…It's just… this is nice…" Tony said quietly, breaking the awkwardness by putting a pepperoni in his mouth.

Steve couldn't stop the smile from finding a place on his face accompanied by a warm flush that crawled up his neck. "Yeah, it is."

They ate for a few moments in peaceful silence. Steve polished off his slices and reached for two more, while Tony picked at his toppings one by one, nibbling them like a squirrel saving them for later. 

"So," Tony said suddenly, breaking the silence. He straightened in his seat. "Are you going to tell me what the problem is with the Space Stone?"

Steve nearly spit out the bite of pizza sandwich. He'd been tiptoeing and dodging talking about the Stone with Peggy for weeks. To have Tony just blatantly ask…

Tony frowned, and Steve sighed, wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned closer to Tony, lest someone be close enough to overhear. "I can't figure out how to change it back into the Tesseract."

Tony nodded once, his tired eyes brightening in the way they did when he was hyper focused on something. Suddenly Steve was spilling his frustrations and it felt so natural to be talking to Tony about this.

"I've looked through everything. There's nothing about turning it back. They don't even know it's a Stone at all."

"Well they wouldn't," Tony said, as if that made perfect sense. "Know or have anything written down. The Space Stone didn't exist in this timeline. And The Tesseract was a housing that disintegrated the moment it broke apart."

Steve huffed. "But now I need to put the Tesseract back."

Tony picked off another olive. His face contorted. Steve knew that look well.

"You have an idea," Steve said softly. 

Tony looked up, his damaged hand going to the red and gold watch on his wrist. The white-lined finger tapped the glowing blue face absently. 

"It's a hunch, actually."

Steve waited expectantly. Tony didn't have half-formed hunches.

"How many… er… rocks do you have left?" Tony asked casually.

"All of them."

Tony nodded. "That's good."

"Oh?" Steve felt the energy between them shifting. This was work mode. This was where they thrived. Something inside of Steve revelled in it even as he knew that this meant their time together was drawing to an end. He pushed that thought away.

"It's just a hunch…" Tony met his eyes, "but I think I can change it back."

Steve pursed his lips. "Really? How?" 

Tony glanced around. "I'd need to see them to be sure. To test the hunch, so to speak. We should talk about this somewhere more…. Private."

Steve nodded. "My place. But first, you need to eat."

Tony smirked. "Yes boss."

Steve watched expectantly as Tony finally took a real bite of pizza and then another, chewing thoughtfully each time. When he finally put the crust down, Steve stood up. 

"Ready?"

Tony nodded. "Let's go."

Tony kept his mouth tightly shut the entire way back to base, but Steve could see his mind going. His fingers twitched against his thigh as he worked through the problem.

They climbed into the elevator and it was only as the doors shut that Tony seemed to notice where they were.

"You live here?"

Steve nodded. The elevator jerked as it started its descent.

"Why?"

"Can't exactly leave the Stones just anywhere, can I?"

Tony arched his eyebrow, distracted from his thoughts with a new one, "Isn't this place crawling with Hydra?"

"Technically, yes. But they're perfectly safe."

Tony shook his head, a confused frown on his face. "I don't see how."

"You will."

The elevator opened and Steve led the way down the winding hall to the door that belonged to the room Peggy had secured for him. He swiped his Agent A badge across the keypad and the door unlocked on a small apartment housing a double bed, a small shower, and a closet.

"A key card? Really? That's your security for them?" Tony rolled his eyes. "Cap, I thought you were smarter than that."

"They're in the closet," Steve said, closing the door behind them. "Go get them, if you think they're so vulnerable."

Tony's brows drew together, but his curiosity overcame him and he went to the closet and opened the door. The snort of a laugh made Steve grin. He knew what Tony had found. The vibranium suitcase - courtesy of T'Challa - pinned to the floor by Mjölnir.

"Don't think too many Hydra agents are worthy these days," Steve said, coming up next to Tony and lifting the hammer off the suitcase.

"Probably not," Tony allowed, bending to grab the suitcase. "Let's get to work."

An hour later the Stones were scattered over Steve's bed and Tony was kneeling on the floor, his hand encased in a red gauntlet that had appeared out of the watch. Gingerly, he flipped each Stone one last time before nodding to himself, peering at them through his glasses that were even now flashing with little blue lights, filtering information back to Tony faster than Steve could process. Which was saying something.

"They're made of energy," Tony said, his hands working the air above the Space Stone as if he was holding the Cube. "They're all elements, unique from each other and anything else. Each is the only one of its kind."

Steve nodded. Thor had said as much.

Tony seemed to be waiting for Steve to connect the dots, but when Steve didn't speak, Tony continued.

"Think of it like tungsten, caesium and plutonium had a baby…" Tony said, his hands animating more as he talked. "These things operate on their own periodic table, and the only thing that can influence them is another element from the same periodic table."

Steve arched his eyebrow, catching on faster than he'd expected. "So you're saying to alter the Stones we have to use…"

"The Stones," Tony finished.

Steve felt something cold and awful spread inside of him. "How?"

"With this." Tony lifted up the glowing green gem in his gauntleted hand. The Time Stone. "We use it to turn back time on the Stones themselves."

Steve swallowed. "So we just… use the Time Stone?"

"Yup."

Steve felt the cold pit deepening. "Tony… we can't."

Tony looked up, rotating the Stone over again. " I can."

"Tony no… wielding the Stones before… it killed you…" Steve said softly. 

Tony scoffed. "That was six Stones, this is one."

"No, you can't risk it! This is my burden, Tony."

"How many Stones have you wielded, Cap?"

"Tony, think for a moment!" Steve was shaking his head. "You can't do this."

Tony's face set in grim determination. "We don't have a choice. Your job is to put them back. My job is to make sure you do it." 

"Tony, no!" 

Steve felt the alarm building. This was the man who instilled artificial intelligence into a robot because he could before thinking if he should . 

"Steve, one of us has to, and the future still has a place for you," Tony said, the bitterness working its way into his words. 

"You have a place," Steve whispered

"Cap, I-" Tony looked up and his words fell away.

"What?" Steve asked but then he felt the hot tear running down his cheek, followed by another. He reached up, touching his fingers to the hot liquid, as surprised as Tony to feel them there. He hadn't thought he had more tears to shed after the events with Thanos.

The memory of his friend, armour blown to bits, flashed through his memory. Steve could still feel the red and gold metal bending under his hands as he peeled the Iron Man suit from his friend's body. The waning hope that the machines were wrong and that Tony was still alive within his metal shell. 

Except he wasn't. His blank, lifeless eyes staring up at nothing. Steve had carried him from the battlefield, praying with each step to a god he hadn't asked anything of in a very, very long time, to save his friend. Because Steve needed Tony to exist.

Steve needed his friend.

Tony must have seen all this play out on Steve's face, because he cleared his throat and put the Time Stone down.

"Cap," Tony said finally, rising to his feet and crossing the room to stand in front of Steve. "You have to let me do this. It's the only way."

Steve shook his head, wiping the tears from his face, and trying to compose his expression into something that was less desperate.

Tony sighed. His hand reached out to grasp Steve's shoulder in an echo of the day before.

"I know you're scared."

There was no point denying it. "Terrified is more like it."

Tony smirked in that way that didn't touch his eyes. "Why Cap, I had no idea you cared so much…" 

Steve shook his head, unable to find any way to respond. 

Tony sighed, the smirk fading and something earnest lighting in his eyes. "I have to do this, Steve. This is for Morgan's future." 

How could Steve argue with that? 

"Okay." Steve forced the word out. 

"Good," Tony said, and turned back to the Stones.

"Wait!" Steve jerked forward, hand outstretched. "You're going to do it now?"

"The longer we wait the worse off we throw the timeline."

Steve knew it was true, but he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready for this to be the last mission. 

Tony waited to see if Steve would speak, but when nothing came out he picked up the Time Stone, holding it between his thumb and finger like an expensive diamond. 

"Ready Cap?"

He wasn't. 

But then Tony closed his hand around the Stone and gave a startled yelp.

"Tony!" Steve cried, reaching for him, but Tony waved him away. 

"No, no, I got it!" Tony growled.

Steve forced himself to hang back as he watched the veins pop on Tony's neck and a glowing green pattern of vines weave out from his fist, wrapping around the gauntlet and working its way up to his shoulder. 

Steve's hands twitched. His instincts to trust Tony directly conflicting with wanting to save him.

But then Tony twisted his wrist and Steve watched in amazement as suddenly the Tesseract, Loki's Staff and a liquid pile of red sludge replaced the Stones.

Tony laughed, a bark of pure glee as he twisted his wrist back the other way, turning the Stones back into themselves. And then back into their original forms again. And back.

"Okay, okay, okay!" Steve waved his hands. "Stop it before something bad happens."

Tony turned his eyes on Steve, a childlike grin on his face. "Once more, just so you don't have to carry a glass to Asgard."

He twisted his wrist again and the Aether and Loki's Staff returned to their respective Stones, leaving the Tesseract alone in its original form.

Tony dropped the Time Stone back onto the bed.

"See, nothing to worry about. Piece of cake."

The gauntlet disappeared back into the watch. And there was something finalising and horrible about seeing the scarred skin reappear.

Steve found himself staring at the pattern on Tony's hand, unable to look up and meet Tony's eye. 

To say goodbye.

In some ways, Tony would always be braver than Steve. Brave enough to make the decisions that hurt because they were the ones that needed to be made. 

He extended the scarred hand to Steve. 

"Well buddy, good luck."

Steve looked at the hand, held in the air. Waiting for him to take it. So that Tony could walk away. 

He wasn't ready.

"Mission's not done yet.

We still have to put it back."

Tony smirked, withdrawing his hand. "This is true."

*****

Putting the Tesseract back was too easy. There was something incredibly non-cathartic about putting the Cube into the wall unit and closing the encasing around it. 

Even watching Tony weld the metal shut, Steve almost wanted someone to stumble upon them. Just to have a reason to prolong the mission.

But the Tesseract was returned and they were walking back towards the elevator.

"Well Cap, I guess this is it," Tony said as he pushed the button.

Steve nodded, a frown on his face. "Yeah, I guess it is."

They waited in silence, listening to the elevator approach their floor. There was so much to say, and yet none of it felt right to utter now. 

Tony was the one who turned. "Don't make this weird," he said, and then he stood on tip toes and wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders.

It was the kind of hug you gave your buddy before you left for war, leaving him behind, knowing you may never see him again. Full of unspoken thoughts, and unsaid feelings. And Steve found himself wrapping an arm around Tony's shoulders in return.

"I'll miss you," Steve said quietly.

If there were tears in both their eyes when the elevator bell dinged, neither mentioned it to the other.

*****

Steve couldn't leave without saying goodbye to Peggy. He walked down the hallway to her office, passing the R&D window and getting a wave from the Korean man again.

She wasn't in her office when he entered, but he resolved to wait for her. He pulled out a chair and sat down, his mind going back again and again to watching Tony leave the elevator without him.

It felt wrong. 

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost missed the footsteps approaching the door before it opened.

"Ms Carter, have you seen Howa- oh! Sorry sir!" 

Steve startled, looking up into the dark eyes he would recognise anywhere buried in the face of a woman he had only seen in pictures.

Maria Stark. 

Her pictures had done her justice. She may as well have stepped out of the photo on Tony's wall. She was dressed in a floral gown, her chocolate hair swept back from her face with a folded white headband. Her neck was framed by a string of pearls and large gold hoop earrings.

"It's alright ma'am," Steve said gently, standing up, and as he did he noticed the swaddled form in her arms. "Congratulations."

"Oh, thank you," she said softly. "You look so familiar," she looked him up and down a time or two. "I feel like I've seen you before?"

Steve didn't see much point in lying. "I'm an old friend of Howard's, Steve."

"I'm Maria, Howard's wife." She said warmly, though she was still looking him over with a vaguely puzzled expression.

The squawk from the bundle in her arms made her start. "Oh," she hummed, "shh.. shh.."

Steve didn't mean to move closer, but he almost couldn't help it. Like an invisible pull, dragging him nearer and nearer. 

"He's still a little fussy," Maria said with an apologetic look thrown at Steve.

Steve chuckled. "That's alright. He just knows what he wants."

Maria's lashes fluttered low as she shuffled the swaddle, trying to soothe the indignant squawks and in the process making it so that Steve could see the tiny face of the person who would one day save the world. 

Large, dark eyes locked on him. A fluff of near-black hair standing up at odd angles from his head as he squirmed. It must have been Steve's imagination, but he could swear the little lips quirked into a familiar half-smile when he was finally settled into the position he wanted.

"He's beautiful," Steve said earnestly.

Maria flushed warmly, and her finger swiped at Tony's bangs, trying to tame them.

"We almost lost him," she said quietly. "I was so afraid we might. I still am." She looked up at Steve. "The world is a big place. So much can go wrong."

"He is strong," Steve said, knowing he was probably breaking some time travel rule somewhere. "He will live a long, full life."

She smiled at that, looking back down at baby Tony with all the love in the world. "I hope so. And I hope it's a happy one."

Steve felt that thing in his stomach twist. "Me too."

The click of the door announced Peggy's arrival.

"Steve! Maria! What are you doing here?" She froze in the doorway, her sharp eyes going from one to another and back.

Maria turned, swaddling Tony close to her again. "Peggy! I was just looking for Howard."

"He left a board meeting with some executives a few minutes ago. He should be in his office shortly."

"Thank you, Peggy." She cast a quick smile at Steve. "It was a pleasure to meet you Steve."

"Pleasure was all mine."

"Say bye, Anthony," she crooned to Tony.

The baby squawked softly, somehow sounding upset by the idea.

And Steve knew at that moment that he was going to make one of those life-altering decisions where he put life into a robot before deciding if he should.

He at least had the good sense to wait until Maria had closed the door before he turned to Peggy and said, "I need four tubes of Pym Particles."

She might have looked more surprised, but instead she simply nodded. "Here."

She produced a box from within her desk, sliding it towards him.

He looked down at it, and sure enough it was a box of Pym Particles. 

"So you figured out your differences?" Peggy said gently. "He's leaving with you?"

Steve looked up, and in her eyes he saw the woman that knew him better than he knew himself and was smarter than anyone ever gave her credit for. The look on his face must have said everything he wasn't, because she chuckled. 

"Steve, we have security cameras."

Steve flushed. "What?"

"I know he broke in with you and stole the Tesseract when you stole those." She pointed at the box.

Steve looked down at the Pym Particles, rattling gently in the box. There were at least a dozen vials in the box.

"Why didn't you say anything?" 

"Because I know you, Steve, and I trust you."

Steve felt the flush. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "For everything, Peggy."

She smiled, and he saw the tears in her eyes. She stepped around the desk, standing on tiptoes to wrap Steve in a hug. Her warm arm closed around his shoulders, and he returned the gesture, feeling her slight frame in his arms.

Before she pulled back, she whispered in his ear.

"Don't mess it up."