Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Coffee!”

Turning with a raised eyebrow, James looked at the disheveled man standing across the counter, his hair sticking up every which way, the circles under his eyes darker than James’, which up until this point he hadn’t known was possible. 

“You okay there, pal?” 

It was a stupid question, seeing the state the man was in and the very noticeable way he was swaying on his feet.

“Peachy, Cupcake. All I need is coffee.” He took a step forward and James was almost surprised to see him succeeding. 

That was probably the last thing the guy needed but who was James to tell someone else what they needed? Hell, he was an amnesiac with a shitload of problems who was most likely a failed military experiment judging by his muscles, scars and nightmares. He wasn’t a hypocrite though so he kept his mouth shut.

“Sure thing, Honey. Anything else?”

“Nope. Triple espresso should do the trick. If it doesn’t I’m going hunting for adrenaline.” The last bit he murmured to himself, but as James had enhanced hearing, he heard it loud and clear. 

Not that he would let the other man know that, of course. He might know less than your typical ten year old, but James knew how to survive and that included keeping his head down, his metallic arm covered and appearing to be a boring barista working the Oh-God-I-Want-To-Die-Shift starting at 4:30am. 

“Triple espresso coming right up.” Turning around, he glanced up to the mirror over the coffee maker, keeping an eye on the man, who, instead of doing anything suspicious, leaned against the counter, trying to hide a wince as if he was injured.

Hm.

“Sugar in your revival of the dead?”

The man needed a moment to answer. “Probably a good idea.”

Nodding, his eyes still on the man, James put some cream in it, too. He couldn’t be sure but if he had to guess, he’d say the man was underweight. Not critically, at least James didn’t think so - then again he wasn’t a doctor. In fact how the fuck did he know any of that?

“Here.” Putting the coffee in front of the man, he saw the flinch, even if the other was trying to hide it. 

“Thanks.” The man waited until James had stepped back to reach for the coffee and took a long sip that - if he hadn’t added the cream as well - would have surely burnt his throat.

“Milk?” He asked after blinking twice at his coffeecup.

“Cream.”

“Oh, Cupcake, you’re my new favorite.”

“Aint I lucky.”

There was a good chance the man hadn’t even heard him, as he was now transfixedly drinking his coffee, with a pleased little smile on his lips that was adorable - even if he still looked like death warmed over.

In the next hour, James managed to get him to sit down at the corner table, got him to drink another coffee (the man had ordered another triple espresso. James had brought him a coffee with toffee syrup) and even eat a muffin with blueberries. 

There was literally no reason why James did all that. Sure, he had the time as the morning crowd was just starting to show up. But that didn’t explain the warm feeling of accomplishment that had sneaked itself into his chest when he saw the man eating the muffin almost without noticing while typing on his ridiculously expensive looking phone. 

It also didn’t explain the twinge of worry for him whenever he saw a sign of pain or discomfort on the face of the other man. 

James didn’t know him. Didn’t know anything about him. Hell, he didn’t even know if he was hurt. And still he watched him the whole time. Making sure the other man was okay.

At least he did that up until the moment the man jumped up from his chair, something close to panic on his features. Ignoring his injuries - because James was sure that the man was hurt - he hurried out of the door. 

Not looking back.

Not paying for the coffees or the food. 

-o0o- 

Five hours later, James finished his shift and drove his bike back to his tiny apartment in Brooklyn. 

Shuddering in the ice cold air surrounding him, James did not ask himself why he hated the cold so much. He just dragged the jacket and scarf a little tighter around himself while waiting at a red light and drove faster. 

By now, he had a routine down. As soon as he came home, he checked if anyone had been in his apartment. Then he would check the internet for any mentions of someone matching his description. Then he would cook himself something to eat. After eating and cleaning up, he would clean his weapons and make sure everything was in order.

And then he would either just wait or walk around Brooklyn, trying to remember something.  

It has been almost seven months now, since he woke up in a motel in the back-end of nowhere, carrying nothing with him aside of a duffel bag filled with weapons that would make any supervillain proud and an outfit to complete the look. 

He’d googled that as well and didn’t find any mention of a supervillain matching his description anywhere.

Waking up, as he called it, he hadn’t remembered a thing. Not a single fucking thing. Not even his name. He’d checked into the motel under the name James Stevens - a name he kept, because it felt right, even if he had no idea if it was his name or just a pseudonym. 

He hadn’t had any papers, no phone, a wallet filled with too much cash, no personal items at all if you didn’t count his weapons - he didn’t - or the clothes he’d worn - he really didn’t. In fact, he’d hated them. 

The only thing he had known was that he was on the run. Even though he had no clue at all who he was running from or where he was running to, he’d known he wasn’t safe. He’d known someone was after him. 

He’d also known he would rather die than be captured again.

In the last couple of months, he’d learned some more things about himself. For instance, he liked Brooklyn. It didn’t look familiar but something about the place just felt right. 

He’d also learned that he was enhanced, when other people commented on his strength, his speed and the fact that he healed too fast. Thank fuck he’d learned that before coming to New York, or he would have had to leave the only place he felt at least some connection to. 

He’d learned he liked chocolate and cherries, couldn’t stand the cold and most likely had most likely lived through some horrific shit, showing itself in feelings of panic and gut wrenching night terrors, even if he never remembered anything after waking up aside from agony, terror and that bone deep knowledge that he was on the run.

Sometimes, there were flashes of memories, so close James thought he just needed to reach out to catch them. That, of course, wasn’t as easy as he would have hoped for. 

In fact, he hadn’t learned much more since he’d settled in Brooklyn. 

Well, if you disregarded that he apparently couldn’t stand by when other people were in danger no matter that he was damn sure it was a bad idea to draw any kind of attention to himself. 

Did that stop him from fighting alongside the Avengers? No. No, it did not. 

But, and yes, James knew that it was a foolish justification, he only stepped in if they needed him. 

That was the other thing he’d learned about himself. He was a fantastic sharpshooter and an equally good fighter.

He never talked to the heroes. Not when he stood back and watched them fight. Not when he stepped in and helped them out. Not when he protected civilians while they fought the villains.

Not when they tried to talk to him afterwards.

Today, the first thing James did when he entered his apartment - the single room with a cramped, tiny kitchen corner and a bathroom that was so small the toilet was basically in the shower - was googling whether or not someone had caught footage of him last night. 

The Avengers had been called to an out of control fire that had wrecked a couple of warehouses and James, because he had been bored anyway, had followed them there the minute he’d caught on via Twitter, Instagram and local news.

Because, as he’d learned the hard way, those were often faster to report Avenger fights than the police radio.

Thankfully, the Avengers had been able to get all of the civilians out of there in time and been able to contain the fire. The only moment James had almost stepped in was when Iron Man had been buried under a crumbling wall after pushing Captain America out of the way.

As the Hulk had dug him out only minutes later and the armored Avenger had told his teammates he was fine, James had stayed back, leaving early enough to drive his motorbike back to his apartment, change into everyday clothes and open the coffee shop like he did six days a week.

The media speculated the fire had been arson even if they didn’t know why someone would want to burn down those warehouses. 

Neither did James, and if he was honest, he didn’t really care.

Deciding against going out to walk the streets of New York as it was just too cold out there, James sat down and switched on the TV he’d bought from someone whom he was pretty sure sold stolen goods. 

Not that it mattered to James. Yes, he liked to protect people, but that didn’t mean he was a saint. 

Picking off where he had left off in season two of that new TV series he had found, James tried to ignore the longing he felt, almost like a physical pain while he watched the two unlikely brothers solve supernatural cases. He barely made it through episode fourteen in which the one brother went missing for a week and was found with blood all over him. 

The longing hitting him square in the face during that episode, had James curl in on himself. 

Sam, the brother who had been missing, had been used to kill innocent people. Had been used to kill other hunters against his will.

Pain exploded behind his temples and he barely made it to the toilet before vomiting into it violently.

Falling to his knees on the cold tiles, James remembered something. A face. Blond hair, blue eyes and-

Blinking, James came to, lying on the cold bathroom tiles, the disgusting taste of vomit in his mouth.

Not again. 

Pushing himself up on shaking hands, he let himself rest against the rough wall. 

From the living room he heard the voices of some characters he’d come to be fond of. 

Rubbing his flesh hand over his eyes, James tried not to remember what had set him off this time. It wouldn’t do him any good and the pulsating headache wasn’t an encouragement either.

-o0o- 

“Hey there, Cupcake.”

James had known someone had come through the door, of course he had, and not just because of the bell ringing, but he hadn’t thought he would hear the man’s voice again.

Glancing up to the mirror over the coffee maker, he met the brown eyes of the man. Today he looked a lot better, his clothes were still well worn but he looked less disheveled, less tired, even if it was just after five am and the shadows under his eyes were still as black as the abyss in James’ mind. 

“Honey.” He said in greeting, finishing filling up the syrups before turning around. 

“Sorry for running out the other day.” The man smiled, it was a bright and carefree one that James didn’t believe even a little bit. “I almost missed a meeting and Pep would have killed me if- that’s not an excuse of course. What do I owe you?” 

“$12. Can I get you anything?” 

“Triple espresso, again, I could not stop thinking about it.” 

“Coming right up.”

Today, the man didn’t seem too hurt, which was good. Still, something cold and jittery had slithered into his gut the second the man had said this Pep would have killed him if he was too late. Most likely it was just a figure of speech. 

But what if it wasn’t? 

“Here.” Handing over the coffee, James saw the hesitation in the other man. 

Another red flag. And no, he had no idea why he knew that. Or why something seemed to stab right through his stomach, as if there was something he knew.

Placing the paper cup on the counter, he turned to the cash register. 

“That’s-”

“Here. Keep the change.”

Looking up, the man was already almost out the door, having placed two fifty dollar bills on the counter.

“Honey?” 

The man stopped, a smaller smile on his face, one James almost believed.

“Yes, Cupcake?”

“That’s too much.” 

“It’s not.”

“Yes, it is.” 

“No, it’s not and I’m always right.”

“You’re clearly not. Come back here and get your change.”

“Or what?” The smile now dancing over his lips was challenging. It was beautiful.

“Or you’re having a tab here.” 

“Is that all you can do?”

“While on camera? Yes.” 

The other man laughed, winking up at said camera in the corner of the shop, before blowing James a kiss. “I guess I have to come back then. Do you always work this goddamn early in the morning?” 

“Yes.” 

“You’re killing me here, Cupcake.” 

“You can just take your change, Honey.” 

“Nah, this is more fun.”

James had to agree.

-o0o- 

“Cupcake!” 

“Honey.”

“I’ve missed your smile. Seriously, if you smile at me the sun starts to shine.”

"It's January. The sun won’t start shining for at least 3 hours.” 

“Too literal, Cupcake, what did I tell you?” 

“To live a little.” James said, his tone of voice making it clear he did not give a single fuck about it. 

“Exactly! Live a little.” He smiled up at James, fluttering his lashes at him. 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Honey was flirting with him. Which would be ridiculous. 

Putting the cup in front of him, James bit back the smile at the happy little sigh after his first sip. 

“One day you’re going to give me the secret for this coffee, because this is heaven, Cupcake, and it’s not okay for you to keep heaven from me!” 

“Sure.” 

“You, Sir, are an asshole.” 

“And proud of it.” 

Opening his mouth to quip back, at least judging by the twinkle in his honey colored eyes, he was interrupted by the opening door. 

“James! I need a Mocha Latte or I’m not going to be able to survive today but- Tony Stark!” Vivian screeched out, her eyes blown wide. 

The man - Tony - froze. His smile slipping into a fake one. 

“Guess that’s my cue. See you, Cup- James.” 

Looking after Tony, James was sure he’d missed something. But Vivian, a regular, who normally came by an hour later, filled him in. 

His Honey - not his Honey, of course, just the person he’d called Honey for the last couple of weeks - was Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, genius, billionaire, philanthropist. And the benefactor and landlord of the Avengers.

Inhaling slowly, James ignored every warning bell in his mind going off. 

Tony Stark was not an Avenger. He was a civilian. Everything was fine. 

Chapter Text

Nothing was fine. Nothing at all. 

Not only was he running on too little sleep, too much pain medication, too much coffee and had basically no fucks to give left - he had a Board Meeting in two hours - Noooo, he also had a stupid crush on his barista. Fuck! If the papers got wind of this he would be lucky if he was only called a stalker. 

Pepper was definitely going to kill him for this. And that was independent to the fact she would kill him for whatever stupid shit he would do during the Board meeting. 

And no, not doing anything stupid during that meeting was not an option if he wanted to keep his sanity. 

Or at least the little he had left. 

“Sir?”

“Please tell me there aren't any stories online already, Jay!” 

“There aren’t any stories online about you, Sir.”

“Are you lying?”

“I would never, Sir.” 

“I love you, Jay.” 

“The feeling is mutual, as far as I can feel love, Sir.” 

“That’s my boy.”

“Yes, Sir. Captain Rogers is calling for Iron Man's assistance.” 

“What? It’s not even-” glancing down at his watch he groaned “six in the morning. What the fuck does he want from me?”

“Advice, I think, Sir.” 

“Why the fuck would he want advice from me?”

“It’s a mystery, Sir. Would you like me to tell him-”

“I’m on my way.”

“Is that a wise decision, considering-”

“Ready the suit, Jay.”

“Against my better judgment, I will.” 

As Rhodey always said, Tony put way too much I in his AIs.

Whatever it was Steve wanted would hopefully make Tony forget his embarrassing puppy crush on his Cupc- on James. The barista that clearly hadn’t know who the fuck he was and had so beautifully quipped with him. 

Nope, not thinking about it. 

Steve better have something good to make him forget about stupid Highschool drama. 

“I think… I think I’m sweet on Miss Potts, Iron Man, and I don’t know what to do!” 

This was hell. 

Staring at the distraught supersoldier - who had taken almost twenty minutes to say that sentence, mind you, Tony knew this was karma. Karma hell.

“I don’t know what to do. She is in a relationship with Mr. Stark, and I’m wishing them only the best, of course, but every time I see her- not that I see her often, of course, I would never-”

If Captain America wasn’t Iron Man's best friend, Tony would just leave. The conversation. The Tower. Possibly the continent. 

As Captain America was Iron Man’s best friend, Tony stayed. Against his better judgment. 

“Mr. Stark and Miss Potts are not dating, Steve.” They’d almost tried it, failed spectacularly on their first date and decided the love between them was more of a sibling love and moved on. 

Thank fuck for that.

Steve stopped his pacing and turned towards the armor, his blue eyes blown wide.

“They aren’t?”

“Nope. Never have as far as I know.”

“But… the papers-”

“-Also say I’m a robot, that you have to be a homophobe because you were born in the 1910s and that Stark’s our sugar daddy. I hate to break it to you, Cap, but the papers lie.”

Glaring at him, Steve huffed. “I know that, but-”

“No buts, and if you need another safety speech about using the internet-”

“I know how to-”

“Doesn’t look that way if you believe-”

“But they are so close.”

“So men and women can’t have close relationships without sex? I’ll have to find Nat, apparently I haven’t done my-”

“Oh god!” Steve pressed his hand over Tony’s face plate as if trying to shut him up.

Waiting for a beat, Tony cocked his head, letting Steve move with it.

“You do know that doesn’t do anything, right, Cap?”

“You did shut up, though.”

“Yes, because I value my life and do not want to find out what Nat would do to either of us if she ever finds out about this.”

Tony was fairly certain the Black Widow didn’t know he was Iron Man - which was a small miracle in itself - and was not going to chance it by being stupid. Hey, that was his good decision for the day! 

“Good call.”

“I’m known for those.” At least inside of the armor. 

“...they’re really not…”

“If you would hear the way she chews him out most of the time you’d know they are brother and sister. And even if they were dating, Miss Potts is smart. She would drop Mr. Stark in a heartbeat for you.”

Hell, anyone with half a brain cell would - and that included Tony. Who was he kidding, Tony would probably be the first even if they were just best friends.

“I don’t- he’s a genius and a billionaire and-”

“Damn annoying is what he is. And I’m allowed to say that, because I’m the one running to save his ass every time he gets himself in trouble. Again.”

Sorry, Pepper, secret identities and all.

“In all fairness, you are his bodyguard, Shellhead.” Steve said, smiling mischievously. “And I have it on good authority the last kidnapping attempt-”

“Whatever. The point is, they are not dating and you should ask her out.”

“What?” Seeing Captain America freeze like a deer in headlights was always a pleasure.

“Ask her out.”

“I- I could never- She is Pepper Potts! How could I-”

“You’re Steve Rogers. You got this. In fact. I know where she’ll be in about-” shit “-forty five minutes. That reminds me, I need to drag Mr. Stark out of the workshop or she’ll kill us both.”

“Iron Man, I can’t-”

Grabbing Steve’s shoulder, Tony smiled at the supersoldier even if he knew the other man couldn’t see him. “You’re kind, funny and a hero. She’d be stupid to say no to you.”

“You really think so?”

“You’re my best friend for a reason, Steve. Yes, I really really think so.”

And Iron Man did. 

Tony Stark on the other hand-

“You have a date with Steve Rogers?” He exclaimed, feigning shock convincingly well, if he was allowed to say so himself.

“Yes, I do, and if you had been punctual, you'd have been there to see it.” 

“Well, seeing this bouquet of flowers is definitely proof enough for me.” Looking down at the meager flowers that was obviously picked by hand and held together by what looked like a hair tie - for fuck’s sake Steve, you have a damn credit card! - Tony tried to hold back a scoff. 

Yes, as Iron Man he was loyal to Steve. As Tony Stark though, he was not only loyal to Pepper, as her unofficial brother, he was fucking protective of her. And this? Steve better step his game up or-

“You mean that he went out there and picked me some flowers in March and didn’t throw your money at me? Yes, I’d say it really is proof, isn’t it?” She asked, an edge to her voice.

Meeting her eyes, Tony raised an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you like him.”

Leaning back in her big-boss-potentially-future-empress-of-the-universe-seat, Pepper matched his raised eyebrow.

“I think Steve Rogers is a respectable-”

“Oh my god! You like him! Jay, call Rhodey, he needs to-”

“Jarvis don’t-”

“I’m sorry, Sir, Colonel Rhodes is not available right now.”

“Not available? We need to give Captain America the shovel talk and-”

“Steve said Iron Man encouraged him to ask me out.”

That shut Tony up. Or at least for a heartbeat.

“Yeah, well, Iron Man is his own person and he spends more time with Cap, so-”

“If that is a sign of you finally snapping, I’ll have Jarvis put you in the Hulk Cage, Tony, we’ve been over this.” Pepper leaned forward, her royal-red lips smiling carefully, as if she were talking to a crazy person.

Tony might be batshit crazy, but he was not a crazy person.

“You are Iron Man. You’re the same person.”

“Believe it or not, Pepper Pot, I know that.”

“Do you? What a relief.” She leaned back in her throne, a slight frown on her face. “Are you sure-”

“Yes.” Tony said, all playfulness gone. “We’re all safer if no one knows-”

“They are your team, Tony.”

“They are Iron Man’s team.”

“You’re Iron Man.”

“Yes, and to keep Iron Man an Avenger that little tidbit can never be known.”

“Romanov wrote that report years ago.” 

Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, no.

“Nothing has changed since then.”

Inhaling slowly, Pepper looked at him, a sad expression in her eyes.

“The worst thing is, you really believe that.”

-o0o-

Tony had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t go back to that tiny coffee shop. He’d sworn it. And just like the first twenty or so times when he’d sworn he would stop drinking, he’d meant it in that moment just to screw it up only a few days later.

To his credit, Tony hadn’t been to the coffee shop in over a week - nine days to be exact - but now he was craving that coffee. He was sore all over from the last tumble he’d been taking in the armor that a freaking concrete wall had stopped rather abruptly, and he most definitely was not thinking about that the voiceless Superninjaspy had a suspiciously similar physic to his new favorite barista. No, sir. And just to be clear, he was just his new favorite barista because of the coffee. Not because his stunning eyes, the wide shoulders or the fact that he might or might not be a vigilante. 

In any case if he wanted to find out Mr. Superninjas identity it would be fair and square on the battlefield and not because he stumbled over him during his day job. Nope, that would just be embarrassing. Especially since that had been the nineteenth fight that the ninjaspy had joined them - if you only counted the once Mr. Superninjaspy had been actively participating.

Which wasn’t the point! The point was he was pissed and he needed a none-Irish pick me up if he was supposed to survive his stupid lovey-dovey best friends without throwing up each time they made heart eyes at each other. 

He’d also missed Cupcake. 

James was a man of few words most of the time, but he made his words count. His bluish-gray eyes showed how clever he was. How observant. His stance and battle-readiness was an obvious sign that he was a veteran, as was the mirror over the coffee maker that Tony would have bet a good amount of money on, had been installed by big, broody and handsome.

Hesitating for just a heartbeat, Tony looked for a rational explanation why he was back now. Because I missed you was even more pathetic than no one can make my coffee just like you.

He’d met the man barely three months ago, for fuck’s sake. They had barely met a couple of times - read here 34 times over the course of 59 days, the last nine not counting - so why the fuck was he standing here at fuck-off-o’clock in the middle of the night and-

Pushing the door open, Tony saw the moment James’ head moved just a fraction to be able to look at the mirror.

“Morning, Cupcake.” He forced himself to sound casual and happy. Not freaked out and nervous. There was no fucking reason to be nervous!

“Morning, Honey.” James said, casually, while already reaching for a cup. 

Walking over to the counter, Tony focussed on moving as smoothly as possible and to hide the strain that took.

“What’s new in the coffee world?”

“Not much.” The loud purring of the machine interrupted their conversation for a moment. Even if James most likely wouldn’t have added anything else either way.

Turning around and placing the cup - not a to go paper one - in front of Tony, he raised an eyebrow. “Anything new in the Tech Industry?”

It was in the way nothing about James had changed. In the way he obviously couldn’t give a single shit about who Tony was. Fuck. His irrational explanation was clear as day, wasn’t it?

“Oh Cupcake, what isn’t new in the Tech Industry, and might I add I’m disgusted that you-” Tony kept babbling, while James just looked at him, his eyes fixed on Tony’s.

“-Interesting. When did you get hurt?”

“It is interesting, you- what?”

James raised an eyebrow. “You’re hurt.” 

If Tony didn’t know any better, he’d say there was real worry in his voice.

“Just a little stiff. Sleeping on piles of money is poison for your back.”

Raising the eyebrow even higher, James crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“Does that normally get you answers, Cupcake?” Tony asked, looking James up and down. “Because let me tell you, having housed Superheroes I’ve seen bigger.”

“How did you get hurt, Honey?”

Was Tony thrilled that James really didn’t give a fuck who he was? Yes, he was. Was it also infuriating that he could stare down at Tony like that with his beautiful bluish-gray eyes and reinforce Tony’s love for blue eyes and people who could stand up to himself? Yes, it was.

Hell, this was how the horrible date with Pepper happened. Still, staring back at the barista who could probably break him like a twig, Tony couldn’t help but smile.

“Would you believe it was a work accident?”

“Is it the truth?”

“Scouts honor.” Crossing his heart, Tony fluttered his long eyelashes at the decidedly unimpressed ex-soldier.

“Isn’t your bodyguard supposed to keep you safe?”

“Not during work hours, Cupcake, sometimes you just need to get close and involved with the material, you know. I’m an engineer! How do you think-”

“Tell your bodyguard to keep a closer eye on your materials then.” James said, picking up Tony’s half empty cup, walking around the counter and placing it on Tony’s table.

“You do know he is an Avenger, right?” Tony asked, trying not to show all the different ways his body hurt while not-limping after his coffee.

“In that case, you need a new one.” James said, his eyes on Tony as if cataloging every micromovement. “Anything I need to look at?”

“Are you offering?” Tony ignored James’ offered hand and sank down on the too hard chair.

“To look at-”

“To be my new bodyguard.” Smiling up at the veteran, Tony knew this was a horrible idea. Did that stop him though? No. No, it did not.

“I-” James started before something dark slithered into his eyes, his expression going cold and hard, losing almost all expression. Stopping to breathe.

“Cupcake?” Reaching out, Tony stopped himself before he could touch the other man. “James, you’re safe. You’re in New York. Everything is just fine. Breathe in for me, okay? You gotta keep breathing. Come on, Cupcake.” Ready to keep babbling - and to touch the other man, the consequences be damned - Tony inhaled loudly and dramatically, trying to get the other man to do the same.

And thank fuck that it worked.

“That’s great, Cupcake. Now, do it again.”

Almost gray eyes turned on Tony, and the fear and exhaustion Tony could read in them almost broke him.

“You’re doing so good, Cupcake.” Moving slightly, he offered his hand towards James again, who, the moment he realized what was happening, took a step back.

“No- I- No- I don’t…” There was real panic in his voice.

“It’s okay, James.” Moving slowly, Tony let a calm smile slip on his lips. “I’m not gonna touch you if you don’t want me to. You’re safe.”

“I… I could hurt you.” It was barely a whisper.

“I’m not gonna touch you, so you don’t have to hurt me, alright? Because as we established earlier on, I can hurt myself all on my own, okay?” Technically not true for his bruises as there had been a villain helping but there was enough shit Tony did to hurt himself that it was still the truth. 

And that didn’t even include torturing himself by reading all the horrific bullshit Hydra had written down. Because that was work. Also someone had to do it after the Avengers had gotten rid of most of Hydra while the rest of the world has still tried to understand that they had been part of an alien attack. 

Then again very few people knew about what that missile had been. 

The point of the matter was reading through all the horrors Hydra had done was a form of hurting himself, especially learning all about the torture the Asset, also known as the Winter Soldier, had gone through before and after having killed Tony’s parents.

So yeah, Tony was a pro in hurting himself.

“No… I…” James shuddered violently. “I don’t-”

“Hey there, Cupcake, look at me.” This time he put a little more force into his voice.

James, flinching hard, looked up and Tony had to bite back the worry exploding in his chest when he saw the terror in his eyes.

Was that what Rhodey had seen everytime Tony had broken down on him?

“It’s okay. Panic attacks suck, I know, believe me, but it’s going to be okay. You’re doing good. Breathing and shit.” And there went his being helpful quota, apparently. “What do you need?”

James blinked at him, as if he didn’t understand.

“...what’s a panic attack?”

Chapter Text

There was a word for those attacks he had. Hell, according to the internet he had most likely something called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which, looking up the symptoms, seemed to fit.

James hated all of it.

He hadn’t had a… panic attack in public for months now. Feelings of panic, of not being able to breathe, of everything being too loud and bright and too much, yes, but not like that. 

As was normal for him, he had no idea what exactly happened. What had triggered him or anything else.

All he did know was that Tony’s voice, which he’d missed in the nine days he hadn’t been there, had been warm and soothing. He hadn’t mocked him. Hadn’t been afraid. 

He’d been kind. Calm. Helpful.

He hadn’t even left when his phone had started ringing. Instead he’d ignored the ringing and told James he was fine where he was. It had James promising that he was fine and needed to work anyway and for him to accept Tony’s phone number for the other man to leave.

As if he actually cared.

Leaning back on his worn down couch, James put the laptop carefully beside himself. He really didn’t want to break another electrical device just because he was still jittery.

There were words for what he had. Medical terms that explained he wasn’t crazy. Wasn’t weak.

Exhaling slowly, James closed his eyes.

He woke up hours later, his apartment almost completely dark if not for the lights from the outside throwing dark shadows in the twilight. 

Groaning, he sat up. His back ached, unsurprisingly after sleeping for hours on what would have been a usable couch years ago. At least he wouldn’t feel any of it in just a couple of minutes.

Unlike Tony, who still hadn’t exactly said why he had been hurt. And even though James was almost sure he hadn’t been lying, he hadn’t given an answer either. 

Not that it was any of James' business. In fact, he shouldn’t have said anything but… it had just burst out of him. Because Tony had been hurt and tried to hide it. Had come to the coffee shop in the early morning hours without his bodyguard. As if he wasn’t one of the richest men in the world with a personal link to the Avengers. As if it wouldn’t be ridiculously easy to just grab, shoot or poison-

Blinking himself awake, James found himself lying on the cold floor in between the couch and his bathroom, which basically meant his feet were able to touch the couch and his hand the door to his bathroom if he wasn’t rolled into a tight ball. 

Fuck.

Unrolling carefully, he ignored the twinges of pain racing through him. Pushing himself upwards, he dragged himself into the shower, washing off the cold sweat still clinging to his skin. 

Then he cooked pasta for at least five people and ate it with ketchup. He wouldn’t have tasted anything anyway.

Panic attacks, he’d learned, were normally triggered by a sensation, a voice, a smell, anything, really, that reminded the person of something traumatic they had endured.

Looking back at every time he’d freaked out or blacked out, there was a good chance he was the most messed up person on the planet. Worst of all, it suggested it must have been something to do with Tony.

And James didn’t want that.

He knew, of course, that it was a very bad idea to start caring for people. To start liking people. Not only was he a danger to others - the broken arm and broken jaw in the first and sixth week respectively after he came back to himself in that motel was proof of that.

Also, he was hunted by someone - if that wasn’t just delusions of persecution. Another possible symptom of PTSD. Maybe he was just paranoid, no one was after him and he was just crazy. 

Glancing down at his metallic arm that was a weapon all on its own, James gritted his teeth. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he wasn’t. Either way he wouldn’t be stupid about this because whatever had happened to him, it had left him with panic attacks bad enough to black out regularly. 

Although it had gotten better for a couple months. And then he had met Tony.

The easy solution, of course, would be to just cut Tony out of his life. Just vanish. He wouldn’t even have to leave New York, would he? He could just switch jobs for fuck’s sake.

Tony didn’t know his last name, didn’t know his address, didn’t know anything aside from his first name, his place of work and how he looked.

It would be ridiculously easy to just vanish. Even leave for another city or state. Hell, if he really wanted to, James knew he would be able to travel to Canada or Mexico. 

The only problem: he didn’t want to. 

Yes, his apartment was small and shitty but it was his apartment. He felt safe in these walls - and that was only partly because he’d rigged the place to hell and back. He liked his job. Yes, it was boring and repetitive and some of the customers were assholes but there were also the nice ones, like Vivian, like- And his boss, Mrs. Bernard was a nice old lady. 

He liked helping the Avengers. Even if he never talked to them. Especially Iron Man always tried to interact with him and to get anything on him. He liked helping people and being in New York and having a routine and a home and-

And he liked Tony. 

Tony, who hadn’t asked why his left hand was always gloved. Tony, who didn’t care about his glares and glowers. Who laughed when Bucky snarked at him and who didn’t seem to know what fear even was.

Tony, who had sat there, smiling up at him, calm and brightly, and promised him that everything was going to be okay.

There was nothing that James wanted to believe more.

-o0o-

“I’m angry at you, Cupcake!” Tony said, marching over to the counter, while crossing his arms over his chest, glaring up at the mirror, meeting his eyes head on.

Swallowing, James had no idea what to do. Last night he hadn’t slept, trying to figure out if he should run or just ignore everything or-

“I told you to text me or call me or shit, send me an email or a tweet or a dm or a fucking pigeon so that I know you’re fine but nooooo, you ghosted me! And I’m not even sure you can ghost someone you’ve never texted with in the first place! I’m double ghosted! How dare you, Cupcake! How dare you! Don’t you know who I am? I hate to draw that card, but as- as a loyal customer I have a right to know my favorite barista is okay!” 

Staring at the honey colored eyes in the mirror, James couldn’t help himself. His lips twitched.

“And now you’re laughing at me? How dare you, Cupcake! This is my villain origin story, just so you know! When I’m attacking New York with my death laser and the Avengers have to fight me, remember that it’s all your fault!”

Turning James couldn’t help but smile. It was small and felt strange on his face but Tony… he appeared to be genuinely worried. 

About James.

No one worried about James. Definitely not enough to ask him how he was. And definitely not enough to march in here at 5 am in the morning and start bitching at him.

“Sorry, Honey. I… just fell asleep.” Close enough to the truth.

“And how are you doing today?” Tony asked, his voice losing at least some of his annoyed tone, even if he was still clinging to it with both hands. “Because if you’re not well you should take a day off.”

“I’m fine.”

Raising an eyebrow, Tony looked him up and down, critically. “In that case, coffee. On the house. For making me fucking worry like some crazy helicopter parent.” The last bit he muttered under his breath.

“Of course, Honey.”

“Don’t you Honey me, Cupcake. I want your number. To be able to text you!” He froze in the movement. “I mean- you don’t have to of course. I wouldn’t… I know how much they can suck and that they are worse when you’re on your own. I’ve no idea if you’re alone of course, and I’m horrible with feelings and all that shit and shouldn’t presume to-”

“Here.” James pushed a napkin towards Tony. A napkin with his phone number on it. Because he was a fucking idiot. 

-o0o-

Honey: Save me, Cupcake. I’m being tortured here!

Cupcake: It’s a gala. How bad can it be?

Honey: Worse. 

Honey: So. Much. Worse.

Honey: The worst actually. This is hell. You know hell? With the fire and the pitchfork and the devil? Bullshit. This! This is hell!

Cupcake: White tablecloths, bright lights and fake politeness?

Honey: And the speeches! THE SPEECHES! I’m dying! Someone get me a knife or a fork or a spoon for all I care so that I can end this.

Cupcake: I don’t think Miss Potts would appreciate that much.

Honey: Pepper is a mean traitor! She brought her perfect Steve to distract everyone from herself and then pushed me to the sharks because, and I quote “Steve doesn’t know how to handle them, Tony. We can’t do that to him.” 

Honey: What about me? He is Captain fucking America and I’m just poor old me! I need protection!

Cupcake: I thought Iron Man was supposed to be there with you.

Honey: Standing in the corner and not talking. Great distraction, really.

Cupcake: I told you months ago to get a new bodyguard.

Honey: And I told you months ago I’d hire you. Fair warning, my bodyguard also is responsible for my coffee, but I guess you’ll do.

Cupcake: I have a job.

Honey: I pay better. Or Pepper pays better. I don’t think I’ve signed a paycheck in years. Not even hers. Ah whatever, I’m sure she’s paying herself not enough anyways.

Cupcake: Not very much encouraging me to start at your company, right now.

Honey: But you're thinking about it!

-o0o- 

Stepping out of the roof, James ran to the edge of the roof, already grabbing his semi automatic, to shoot one of those disgusting things. 

Who the fuck would create giant snails with dragonfly wings that could spit fire? And why? 

Iron Man soared through the air above shooting one of the bigger snails, diving at the last second to avoid its fire breath. 

James couldn’t let them hurt Iron Man. He was Tony’s bodyguard. And if the armor got damaged he would stay in his workshop even more and the man needed sleep. 

Also, if Iron Man got hurt, Tony would need a new bodyguard and no matter how much he denied it, by now James knew that if Tony was in danger, he would become his bodyguard. 

No questions asked.

Hell, on some days he was tempted to agree just to be able to make him eat and sleep.

And to find out who left him bruised and sometimes even cut up more often than not. 

Tony never answered and James was still not willing to press him too much, but he got more worried by the day. 

And yes, that might make him more irritable with the Avengers, especially the one who was supposed to keep Tony safe.

Not that he was very social with any of the others. He couldn’t even look at the Captain, couldn’t look away from the Black Widow if she was in a one mile radius and decided to just stay away from the Hulk and out of range from Hawkeye. 

He changed his ammunition to exploding ones - and no, he was not going to disclose to anyone how he got those, why he knew where to get them or why he’d thought they would be needed. And that was only partly because he had no fucking clue how he knew but it would certainly not be a pretty answer.

Looking at the exploding flying slug, he decided he couldn’t be called paranoid for buying enough ammunition to fight a small war. As long as he stayed close to the Avengers, he would most likely need more and better ammunition, not less or less destructive ones. 

“Hey there, Shadow Ninja!” 

Bucky did not move, did not show he had heard Iron Man, even if he’d flown close enough to see the filigree details of the blue light stuck in his chest. 

“Take a comm if you have to join the party and just so you know, the whole vigilante thing is very chic, I’m sure, but that doesn’t mean-”

The slug flying closer to the armor exploded, covering him in foul smelling slime.

“What the-” there was a sound that sounded like a computer was strangled before Iron Man shot forward just to land in his patented Hero Pose™ only two feet away from James. 

James did not like that. 

But this was Tony’s bodyguard. As long as he didn’t try to hurt him or take him in, he wouldn’t touch the armor.

If he should find out that Iron Man hurt Tony or deliberately let him get hurt, all bets would be off though. 

“You did that on purpose!” Iron Man hissed and James almost smiled. Iron Man really had to spend a lot of time with his employer, if he almost sounded like him. 

But this wasn’t Tony. This was possibly the reason Tony got hurt time and time again. 

Also, he was right. James had done that on purpose and couldn’t be happier about the result. 

After shooting the next two snails, he looked away from their enemies for a moment, sizing up the armor standing in front of him. He’d never allowed the man to come this close before.

He knew very well that behind his mask and goggles his face was almost as unreadable as the blank gold-titanium alloy mask.

He knew that and much more about the armor from one morning in which Tony had ranted about people thinking the armor was made out of iron - apparently ludicrous - and that it was so much more than just a suit of armor painted red and gold. At least that James had known before an in-depth explanation. 

“Here.” In the outstretched armored hand lay a small black earpiece. 

Turning back to the fight, he aimed his weapon again, trying very hard not to lash out at the man when he took another step forward, placing the earpiece beside him on the parapet. 

“It isn’t a tracker but has a direct line to us. If you ever need help. Or if we ever need you.” He amended when James looked at him. 

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Iron Man sighed.

“Yes, Cap, I’m on my way. Think about it, Shadow, okay?” Taking a step back, Iron Man pushed off the roof and zoomed into the direction of the fighting leader of the Avengers. How did James knew that? Because even glancing close to that area gave him a mind splitting headache. 

So he didn’t. 

And he didn’t think about what that might mean.

It took them almost two more hours to stop the fight. Iron Man took the most hits, protecting his teammates as much as he could. 

There was no reason to believe he wouldn’t do the same for Tony. Except for Tony’s injuries, of course. 

Staring down at the earpiece, James hesitated a moment longer. He couldn’t be sure that there wasn’t a tracker in it. Couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a ploy for the Avengers to find out who he was or to rope them into their boy band with the female drummer for diversity reasons, as Tony had put it. 

Reaching out, he grabbed the earpiece, weighing it carefully, before slipping it into one of the many pockets of his vest. 

He did very much not think about the fact that all he had to do to agree to take a piece of equipment he couldn’t be sure wouldn’t get him captured was to think of Tony. 

That would be just crazy. 

Chapter Text

The world had seriously lost its marbles. That wasn’t a surprise per se but still noteworthy. 

Especially when his AI asked him, Tony Stark, to come to the Avengers common floor, that he as Tony Stark had never stepped foot on. He even urged Tony to come at his earliest convenience and then didn’t answer any questions about what the fuck was going on.

Which could mean only two things: Jarvis had lost his temper and was taking over the world OR Jarvis' other father had come to visit and hadn’t told Tony about it.

Tony didn’t know what would be more insulting because how dare his Honey Bear not tell him that he was in the States, not to mention New York and also, how dare he tell their son to withhold information from him!

Yes, without Rhodey Jarvis may have never seen the light of day but it had been Tony that carried him to term - so to speak. He had raised Jarvis and watched him make his first leaps in logic and now-

The metal doors opened and Tony stepped out of the elevator, took two steps into the room, saw the banner, saw his team - even if they didn’t know that they were his team, of course - and his former best friends and siblings sitting in a half circle, turned around and would have gotten back into the elevator if Jarvis hadn’t refused to open the fucking doors. 

“Tony,” Rhodey said with an earnest expression that was so fake Tony wanted to punch him, when he stepped closer to him.

“Tony, we’re all here because we care about you.” 

“Jarvis open the door or I’m jumping out a window!” 

“I can't, Sir and I’m positive that Iron Man will save you if you would resort to such drastic measures.” 

Glaring up at the camera in the corner beside the elevator, Tony, for one moment, thought about blowing his secret identity then and there. If it was still secret. 

Because what else could this fucking intervention be about? His drinking? He’d quit that after the Palladium thing. He hadn’t taken drugs since the early 2000s, had stopped sleeping around after Afghanistan, hadn’t had a major scandal in at least a year and - holy hell. If this was an intervention about him living like a proper reclusive mad genius he would throw all of them out! 

“Tony.” Steve leaned forward, his earnestness so honest it almost gave Tony hives. 

Since he and Pepper had started dating two months ago, he and Tony had spent more time together without Tony in the suit, even if the supersoldier did not seem to be very interested in Tony aside from that he didn’t aggravate Pepper too much. Which was a solid survival strategy as it was the surest way to survive an irritated Pepper and that could be difficult. And that Iron Man wasn’t pushed past his limits between bodyguarding Tony and being an Avenger. 

Tony had neither hit him nor told him how much that meant to him. Instead, Tony had shot finger guns at him. 

That was actually a good reason for an intervention. Finger guns were not an appropriate reaction to anything.

“As Colonel Rhodes said, we’ve all come together because we care about you. We’re worried about you.”

“That’s nice, Cap, absolutely not necessary because I’m peachy but real nice. So why have you dragged me here again?”

Steve faltered, something that the supersoldier normally didn’t do. Not in front of people he didn’t fully trust and not when he had a mission. 

This was bad.

“Actually, why isn’t Iron Man here?” Tony asked, his eyes wandering over the group and ignoring Peppers pointed glare or the way Rhodey’s hand settled onto his shoulder.

“He isn’t here because we feared it could be a conflict of interests if we told him,” Pepper said, icily. 

“Aha.” 

Following Rhodey’s lead, even if rather unhappily, Tony let himself be pushed on the two seater sofa opposite of everyone else. Rhodey never let go of him, which was the only reason Tony didn’t bolt. 

Okay, not the only reason. He had really missed Rhodey and this had brought him back to New York two months earlier than planned. So whatever this was about, it had given him his Honey Bear. That would be worth it, right?

The silence, tense and foreboding, grew between all of them.

Crossing his legs, Tony waited. They had dragged him up here, so it was their job to explain what the hell they thought was wrong.

Rhodey and Pepper, both looking politely pissed and slightly worried, even if Tony was certain at least his Honey Bear was laughing at him silently, didn’t even attempt to break the silence. 

Bruce was sitting to the side, obviously part of the conspiracy but trying to keep his distance, sat on a chair right beside the couch. He was looking down on the floor, his hands clasped together as if he was trying to calm himself down.

Clint, who had been unnaturally quiet up until this point, leaned back against the couch, his right index finger slowly tapping on his knee.

Steve had leaned back again, carefully holding on to Pepper's hand, his expression one of worry, determination and uncertainty, which was a combination Tony had seldomly seen and definitely never imagined to see on Captain America.

He would have lost a lot of money if he had made the bet that it would be Steve who would break first.

“We’ve all seen your bruises,” Natasha hadn’t moved from where she sat between Clint and Pepper. Her voice sounded detached and almost cold - from everyone else that would have been offensive. In her case it meant she didn’t play a role with Tony. They had only just started talking with each other, and Nat, as Iron Man knew, needed some time to warm up to people. 

Especially rich assholes whom she had profiled to be narcissistic and a potential danger to the Avengers Initiative. 

Was Tony still pissed about that? Maybe a little. Even if that was horribly hypocritical of him, as she had spied on him while he had been dying from Palladium Poisoning but also because he had done everything he could to present her with the definition of a narcissistic asshole. Could he really fault her for seeing what he’d wanted her to see? 

No. But as explained above, he was a hypocrite. And an asshole.

But that wasn’t the point right now. The point was that Nat , who knew how to use silence to her advantage, had decided to take the initiative. 

“I get bruises all the time, Miss Romanov, I don’t see-”

“The bruises are not from accidents in your workshop,” Bruce mumbled, his dark eyes flickering up to meet Tony’s. There was defiance in his eyes, in the way he didn’t look back down again. Although he was still wary around all of them, he’d apparently decided to dig his heels in right now. His expression all but daring Tony to contradict him.

If this had been about anything else, Tony would have been fucking delighted to see Bruce fight back. 

Not so much right now, though.

He’d known that he wouldn’t be able to keep Iron Man a secret forever. Hell, he was living with two of the best spies there were, of course they would find out. 

No matter what happened now, he wouldn’t give up the armor. It didn’t matter whether they wanted him off the team or not. He wouldn’t give up being Iron Man and he wouldn’t stop fighting. Fuck, if worse came to worst he would just team up with Mr. Shadow Ninja and built their own league of nameless vigilantes. 

Raising his chin a little, and ignoring the warning pressure of Rhodey’s hand on his shoulder, Tony glanced over all of them.

“Can you prove that?”

“If you were that clumsy in your work, you would not be as good as you are.” Natasha’s voice was calm and steady, while her eyes were calculating. “We’ve made a list of times we suspect you were hurt and times we saw proof that you were hurt. We’ve deduced the most likely reasons for such injuries and compared it to what we knew you were working on in your workshop while those injuries occurred and yes-” She interrupted him before Tony had even the time to say anything. “-we know that you also work on classified projects. Even those would not be able to account for everything. Especially not since you gave up creating weapons.” 

“So… speculations. I’m telling you right now that will not be enough to get me to admit to anything.” 

“This is not a court case, Stark.” Clint rolled his eyes. “We’re here to help you, you ass.”

“I feel the love, Barton. No really, I do.”

“You better, asshole. You’re part of the Avengers if you want to or not.”

Wait, what?

“We know- I don’t know- I-” Steve wrung his hands, his blue eyes filled with so much worry, Tony had to actively force himself to sit still and not react to Iron Man’s best friend being this obviously distressed.

“We’re here for you, Tony. Whatever you need.”

“Oookay?” 

Whatever this was, it was not about Iron Man. Most likely. Which was great. Amazing, even. He still couldn’t believe his secret identity really was secret from his teammates, but okay, that was another thing completely. 

“What are we talking about?”

The silence following his question was succinct enough to raise his pulse. 

“Who is hurting you, Tony?”

Staring at Natasha, Tony blinked. 

“What?”

“Who is hurting you?” Moving just the tiniest bit, she’d got a knife out, placing it on her knee while never looking away from him. 

If Tony didn’t know better - and thank Thor that he did - he’d be sure she was threatening him. But Iron Man knew this Nat. He saw the fire in her eyes.

“No one is hurting me.”

“You don’t have to lie, Tony,” Steve said, forcibly calmly, his hand holding Pepper’s as if he feared she would break.

As if she didn’t know very well that his bruises were from his side business. For that matter, Rhodey, who was still holding onto him, knew that too!

“I’m not lying.”

“We just want to help you,” Bruce said. There was a hint of worry in his voice. A hint of determination.

“And I appreciate that, Brucey Bear, I really do, but I’m not being hurt.”

“We’ve seen the bruises, Stark,” Clint said, rolling his eyes when Steve glared at him disapprovingly. “Tony.” He amended. “In the last few months you often moved as if trying to not aggravate injuries to your back, arms and legs. First I thought that was just because you’re old-”

“Hey!”

“Clint!”

“-but then I saw the first bruise and I kept a closer watch.” All humor vanished from his face. “I’m certain that there have been times you covered up bruises to your face and neck. Five weeks ago you had a black eye. Yes, I know you said one of your robots hit you but none of us is buying that.”

“Dumm-E-” Tony started but Bruce shook his head.

“He’s clumsy, yes, but not like that. He wouldn’t hurt you. Who did?” 

"Nobody."

“We know someone hurt you.”

Glaring up at Natasha, Tony raised a challenging eyebrow. “Yeah, Miss Superspy? Am I lying then?”

“You’ve fooled me once before. I am not going to make the same mistake twice, Tony.”

“I wasn’t lying then and I’m not lying now.”

“No, you were just playing into my expectations and I fell for it like an amateur. I apologize for that and I will try to erase that red from my ledger. But I am not going to let you distract me. How did you get those bruises if it didn’t happen in your workshop and you weren’t hurt by someone?”

I’m Iron Man.  

The words would be so easy. 

Tony didn’t need to look over to Pepper to know she was trying to Jedi-mind-trick him into admitting it. Didn’t need to feel Rhodey’s hand squeeze his shoulder comfortingly. Both of them had tried to convince him the better part of the last year to tell his teammates who he was.

They’d tried to tell him that the Avengers would understand. That they were his team. That they would accept him. That it wouldn’t change anything. 

In fact, he’d bet good money that was the reason they had agreed to this intervention. To be here when he told his team that, surprise, the former alcoholic whore with a heart condition is the one you rely on to have your back while others try to kill you.

Yeah, no. Tony knew better than to believe Rhodey’s and Pepper’s fantasies of Hakuna Matata. Maybe the Avengers would accept him. Maybe they would allow him to stay on the team. Maybe they would keep talking to him. But there was no way it wouldn’t change anything. Because Tony Stark was weak. He wasn’t enhanced, wasn’t a soldier or a spy. Wasn’t anyone noteworthy you wanted to have in a fight. And worst of all, he had a literal beacon in his chest screaming to everyone that thought about it for more than a fucking second that he was a liability. 

He, of course, wouldn’t tell them about the Arc Reactor, but it wasn’t a secret that Tony Stark had a heart condition after his little stint with the Ten Rings.

Who would want him as their backup?

“Whatever is happening it’s- this is not your fault. We want to help you. Whoever- whatever it is, we can protect you,” Steve said, his puppy dog eyes wide and worried and Tony had already opened his mouth to tell him that it was very sweet and he would tell them happily every gossip paparazzo that harassed him so that they could get those protective urges out, when Nat used her final trump card.

“Who are you meeting every morning?”

Tony did not flinch. He did not freeze. But his eyes did bore into hers.

“What?” Rhodey asked, his hand digging a little deeper into his shoulder.

Ignoring him and every other question thrown at him, Tony kept his gaze on Natasha’s eyes.

If she knew he was leaving the Tower - not sneaking, he was a grown up who liked to get his coffee fix around 5am from a coffee place a few blocks away, okay? That was totally normal grown up behavior and had nothing to do with the gorgeous barista - and was worried about him, she would have already followed him.

Unless she wanted to actually make amends, meaning she wouldn’t spy on him. Then again, if they were actually serious and counting Tony to be part of the team, and if just because of Iron Man or his funding, she wouldn’t give a flying fuck about that if she thought he actually was in danger.

Which he wasn't, even if he might meet up with someone who most likely was their very personal vigilante stalker, better known as the Shadow Ninja. Tony, of course couldn't know that for sure but without looking into it further, he'd go with his gut and the glaringly obvious similarities. 

But this wasn't their topic right not and maybe Natasha did want his trust which she wouldn’t get if she was spying on him and if they believed he was abused by someone and up until now it was ‘just’ bruises, the chances that it would escalate too quickly was minimal. It was a possibility, of course, but if she was following statistics, it would be easier to get him out if he trusted them.

It had been a long time since he’d thought about any of that. A long time since he’d heard the fear in Rhodey’s voice. And why shouldn’t he be afraid? He had been there while Sunset Bane- 

Had been there for Tony. Had patched him up. Had gotten him out and help. Had not left his side for months after.

The public didn’t know what Sunset had done to him. Had only heard her version of events. Then again, anyone who looked at the stories for longer than a minute noticed that something wasn’t adding up. That something more would have had to be going on. 

Not that many people would take that time.

Looking straight at Natasha’s eyes, Tony knew the spy had. Glancing at the other Avengers, he knew she’d let them in on her suspicion.

“Who I’m meeting is none of your concern and they are not hurting me.”

“If you’re telling us all of that is consensual then I’d like to have a word with-” Clint started but was interrupted by Steve, who was clearly trying his best and had most likely read at least two or three books on the topic.

“It’s okay if you don’t see it as them hurting you, Tony but-”

“They have never laid a hand on me. And yes, that also means sex or whatever kink Clint is thinking about. They have never hit or kicked or hurt me.” Pushing off the couch, Tony looked at his team.

There was shame and anger and reluctant gratitude and something warm and fluttery fighting inside his chest. Because they clearly would have protected him. Had gotten his family involved. Had obviously researched the issue to be able to support him.

Fuck. They’d done more for him than anyone aside from Rhodey and Pepper ever had.

“Thank you. But I’m fine.”

“Tony-” Steve started but was interrupted by Rhodey, who had stood up with Tony. Who hadn’t let go of him even once.

“Pep.”

“Yeah, I’m handling them.”

Tony wasn’t surprised when Rhodey pushed him towards the elevator. Nor when Jarvis brought them to his workshop or that his Honey Bear didn’t say a word.

He was even doubly not surprised - did that make sense? - that Rhodey, as soon as they were safe in the workshop, started grilling him.

The fear was back in his eyes. The same one that Tony had seen for the first time when Rhodey had been twenty and Tony fifteen. It was shortly after Sunset had started to raise her fists alongside flaying him open with her words.

It took Tony almost half an hour to calm Rhodey down. To have Jarvis confirm all of his bruises were matching with the injuries that being Iron Man brought with it.

“Okay.” Rhodey’s hand was still clutching onto Tony but his grip as well as his eyes and voice had lost most of its desperation. “Okay. Just one more time, just- It’s not like-”

“It’s not.”

“You’re sure?” It was the vulnerability, the reminder that Sunset had fucked Rhodey up almost as much as Tony, that had Tony smile calmingly, even if he’d answered the same thing for what felt like an hour by now.

“I swear to you, Rhodey. It’s just Iron Man.” 

“Okay. That’s good. That’s really good. But if-”

“If I ever get in a situation like that I’m going to call you. I’m leaving that situation and call Pepper. I’m not answering the door or a call or a text that isn’t from either of you. I know, Honey Bear. I swear to you, I’m fine.”

“Good.” Moving, Rhodey dragged Tony into his safe arms, burrowing his face into Tony’s neck. “Thank fuck.”

Pressing a kiss to Rhodey’s temple, Tony held onto his brother.

“Don’t you worry. Everything is fine.”

Chapter Text

Something was wrong. 

Having read up on PTSD, panic attacks and having even attended one veteran meeting about both - which had been a mistake - James knew that this feeling of being watched and followed could be just his mind playing tricks on him. 

But he didn’t believe that. Didn’t believe that the hairs on the back of his neck stood up for no reason. Didn’t believe his quickening pulse just happened for no reason.

And he most definitely didn’t believe that it was a coincidence that it only happened when Tony was in the shop or two to four hours after he’d left.

The only reason he hadn’t taken some drastic measures in the last two weeks was that whoever was watching them stayed with him after Tony left. There was a fairly good chance it was Iron Man himself, who had finally, after months of not giving a fuck, realized that his employer visited a coffeeshop almost every morning - or at least on the six days James was working.

It was telling that James was calmed by the thought that an Avenger was spying on him if it meant that Tony was safe. He didn’t like to think about what it was saying but not even he could ignore that it was telling.

Today, Tony had been earlier than he usually was, apparently he had to catch a plane at 6 because he had some business to attend to in Japan for the next few hours and Pepper had told him she would take away his helper bots if he was late.

The feeling of being watched hadn’t started the minute before Tony came into the coffee shop but rather twelve minutes later. 

Whoever was following Tony here, they hadn’t known he would be earlier today. Or maybe they had overslept.

Wouldn’t be the first time they had slept on their job, would it?

“See you in three days, Cupcake.” Tony had smiled at him, the light in his eyes dancing, before he’d all but run out of the shop.

As usual, the feeling of being watched stayed. Which didn’t make sense if it was Iron Man who better got his metallic ass over to the same plane Tony was going to board in an hour.

Forcing himself to keep his routine, James grabbed the mug and put it into the dishwasher, disposed of the napkin that he had placed Tony’s blueberry muffin on, and cleaned the table.

He was already behind the counter when he felt a cold shiver run down his spine. 

Fucking finally. 

Not turning when he heard the door opening, he didn’t reach for the concealed combat knife on his back. Not even when he didn’t hear the bell ringing. 

Meaning that whoever had just entered was like him. Most probably not an amnesiac but they were trained. They would be a spy. An Assassin. 

In other words: a threat.

Glancing up to the mirror over the coffee maker, James was not surprised to meet the piercing green eyes of the Black Widow.

His first impulse was to attack her. She was good, certainly, but he was enhanced. His second impulse was to turn with a bright smile and the Brooklyn charm he had been able to pick up with no problem at all. Both would most likely not go over well, especially not if she saw a difference of behavior in him. And he didn’t mean attacking her. 

That only left him with the third option. 

Turning around, he nodded at her. “What can I get you?”

The Black Widow didn’t answer, her eyes piercing James’ as if trying to force information out of him. 

She wasn’t the only one who could play that game, though.

Staring back into her eyes, James didn’t move a muscle. He tried to gather at least as much information about her as she was trying to get about him. 

Unsurprisingly, she was hard to read but the context of their situation did give him at least some clues. She had followed Tony, the benefactor of the Avengers, for two weeks. Now that he was leaving the country, she had decided to come inside to either talk, threaten him or spy on Tony.

There was also the distinct possibility that this was her first day or that she had shared the shifts with Iron Man or someone else from the Avengers but James was all but certain that it had been her spying on him for the last couple of days and, judging by the weapons strapped to her slim frame, she either knew who he was or she knew who he had been.

Either way there was a glint in her all but impassive eyes that screamed danger at him. 

To be fair, so would his gaze, and not only because if she knew anything she could be a real danger to him, but also because either she was hurting Tony or she was allowing it to happen to someone who housed her and her teammates. James would not be forgiving if that was the case. 

Something else he would not think about any more closely. 

As if coming to a decision, the Black Widow relaxed her stance and smiled at him.

“Caramel Mocha, please.”

“Coming right up,” he answered, loosening his stance as well. Hesitating just for a heartbeat, he turned his back on her, his eyes snapping up to the mirror immediately and meeting her eyes before she moved over to Tony’s table. 

Sitting down on Tony’s chair.

Finishing her drink, James stepped around the counter and sat down opposite of her. 

Her head was tilted slightly upwards and her hands both rested visibly on the tabletop. 

Nodding to her, he took a sip of the far too sweet beverage, before pushing it over to her, letting the silence continue for a moment longer.

Mirroring her posture, his hands laying on the tabletop felt almost like a stalemate but he wasn’t willing to throw the first knife - or at least not just yet.

“Do you know that Iron Man is looking for you? Who would have thought we find the Shadow Ninja in a small coffee place chatting up his boss.” Her voice was low and smooth, almost as if she was just thinking out loud. 

Even if she didn’t say it, James heard the Makes you wonder how small the world really is, doesn’t it? still loud and clear. He also imagined she’d say it in a threatening tone. Maybe it was just the way she’d raised her eyebrows at him as if daring him to try to claim this wasn’t a nefarious plan of his.

“If he'd accompanied him even once, he would have found out months ago.”

The Black Widow raised an eyebrow, almost challengingly. 

“If you wanted to talk to us, you could have stayed after any of our fights.” 

If he had wanted to talk to them, he would have. 

Staring into her eyes, James waited. He wasn’t the one wanting anything from her right now. Hell, there was a good chance after this he would have to go back on the run. Something that shouldn’t make his chest tighten painfully because he had known it was a possibility. That it would most likely happen again. He’d also known that Tony had heightened the potential danger of recognition by a tenfold but…

But he had stayed anyway.

“What do you want from Stark?” The Black Widow had apparently decided that a cat and mouse game would not work with him. Or she’d gotten impatient. Either way there was something in the set of her shoulders. In the blank mask she was hiding behind. 

And whatever it was, he knew that it was important even if he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Letting the silence stretch between them, James shrugged. “Nothing.”

Not wasting her breath to tell him she didn’t believe him, the Black Widow leaned a little closer to him. It was just an inch, just a small movement of her torso, still James had to force himself to not react. To not let his hands twitch to his weapons knowing very well that the Black Widow would be at least as fast as him, even if she wasn’t enhanced, as far as he knew.

More than even the movement, it was the searing steel in her eyes that promised violence in the near future. 

James wasn’t above destroying the whole place to save his own skin from a wrathful Black Widow.

“Stark has various good qualities, I'm told.”

Not even moving one single muscle, James kept staring at her, waiting for any indicator at all that she would attack.

“One seems to be how he bruises.”

James went cold. The only reason he didn’t throw himself at her was the slightest hint of disgust in her tone. 

Leaning closer to her as well, James let some of his rage show and for a heartbeat he relished the spike of fear in her eyes, before it morphed into dangerous conviction.

“You’ve watched us, Widow, I never touched him.” 

“Not when I’ve seen it.” She agreed, tapping her fingernail three times onto the tabletop before leaning back in her chair. 

“If Iron Man was doing his job-”

“He is.” The spy almost spat, freezing immediately after. 

“If he were, Tony wouldn’t be hurt, would he?”

Hesitating, she cocked her head lightly to the left, her eyes narrowing. 

“Iron Man is a hero.”

James didn't say anything, just looked back at her, letting the unspoken words hang between them for a moment longer, before he leaned back himself.

“What are you?”

“What do you think, malen’kiy pauk?” He froze even before her eyes narrowed more dangerously.

“Who are you?” It was a hiss, a threat and a fear-laced accusation all in one.

You know was on his lips, as if she would know. As if she-

He pushed himself away from the table and ran, no matter how undignified it must have looked, straight to the bathroom, falling to his knees in front of the toilet at the same second he couldn’t keep the bile at bay any longer.

Thank fuck he hadn’t eaten anything today just yet.

Sitting back on his haunches, and shuddering violently, James pressed his eyes closed. There had been… something. The barest hint of a memory. And he’d know… he’d known a language. Something that… he’d heard. That he’d-

Leaning forward again - and thank fuck that there hadn’t been a customer in since it had been cleaned after closing last night - James pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to fight the pulsating pain there, to catch one of the thoughts, the memories already fading again.

There was a movement behind him and James turned, a blade in his hand before his mind caught up at him.

The Black Widow stood just outside of the stall, her expression emotionless.

Flexing his fingers on the knife, James forced himself to lower the weapon. He didn’t need to read her thoughts. If he was like this how could he be even sure that he hadn’t hurt Tony in one of his episodes. 

He hadn’t. He knew he hadn’t. Still he understood why she wouldn’t believe that. Especially since… something had happened before his mind had decided to fuck him over once again.

“...we can help you.” The Black Widow all but whispered. As if she wasn’t sure she wanted to make that offer at all. Then again, keep your friends close and your potential enemies who might or might not abuse your benefactor closer.

“If you… if Tony trusts you and if you’re worthy of that trust… then we will help you.”

Wasn’t that a neatly packaged moral dilemma? Yes, Tony trusted James, at least enough to meet him over and over again and drink his coffee. No, James was pretty sure he wasn’t worthy of that trust, and that had nothing to do with Tony’s bruises. It had everything to do with why he was kneeling on a bathroom floor right now, clutching a blade and not remembering who he had been in the past, though.

“If not…” The Black Widow cocked her head to the right, an almost smile dancing on her lips. “I don’t care how good you think you are, I’m better. And I will find you.” 

James didn’t doubt her for a second. It wouldn’t mean he wouldn’t fight with everything he had but with her talents, Tony’s genius and the help of the Avengers? Yes, she would most likely find him sooner or later.

“If you run, I will take that as an admission of guilt. If you step out of line, I will tear your world down. If you’re hurting Tony…” Her smile widened. “Let’s just say the other Avengers will not find out about it.”

Nodding once, James pushed himself up, taking one step to the right before he found his balance again. Ignoring the revolting taste on his tongue for a moment longer, he pushed the blade back into the sheath in his waistband before he met her eyes head on again. 

"Okay. If you or one of your entourage is hurting Tony or at least not stopping it if they could, I’m going to end you all.” 

Holding his eyes for a moment longer, Natasha Romanov nodded. 

“Okay.”

-o0o- 

Glancing up at the clock, James furrowed his brow. 

Tony should have been here twenty minutes ago, he still wasn’t. Checking his phone for the third time, James tried to push away his worries. Sure, Tony had only missed four days to visit him since his trip to Japan last month and he’d texted him each time with the same excuse, that he was too caught up in something in his workshop to come over. 

James was fairly certain that only once it had been a lie.

The following night he had walked up to the Stark Tower, waited five minutes and then walked a few blocks and sat down in a diner. 

The Black Widow had showed up fifteen minutes later, walking over to him as if they hadn’t exchanged death threats the last time they had met. 

Then again, that had felt a lot more genuine than most interactions James had with most people since he could remember. 

Except for Tony. But James was pretty sure there was no normal regarding Tony.

Sitting down across from him, she had crossed her legs elegantly, playing up a date situation, as if they had agreed on it. 

They hadn’t, but it didn’t surprise James in the least. 

Like it hadn’t surprised him that the Black Widow had kept his identity secret. He wasn’t sure why it didn’t surprise him, but it didn’t. 

It had also not surprised him when Tony, after coming back from Japan, had told him he was now getting self-defense lessons from Natasha Romanov herself, and that he thought she was about to murder him.

James had just shrugged it off, not commenting on the fact that the spy had visited him and that she had seemed far too protective of Tony to just kill him off. He wouldn’t, not until he knew her motivation behind all of it. And before he was ready to tell Tony the truth. 

Which he shouldn’t. He definitely shouldn’t do that.

Neither of them said a word until the waitress had gotten their order, winking at Nat as if congratulating her. 

Which was… odd. 

“What do you know?”

Romanov - because they had decided they would use last names until their relationship (allies as of now) would change - raised an eyebrow. 

“He isn’t talking.”

“Where was Iron Man?”

“Fighting with us.”

“That was two nights ago. Where was he-”

“Resting.” She didn’t point out that he had been thrown into a building during that fight, while protecting some civilians who had thought it a good idea to film the fight. 

It had not been a good idea. Hell, even James had winced when the armor had impacted. The fact that the superhero hadn’t stood up immediately and joined the fight again was its own admission of how hurt the man inside the armor must have been.

That, of course, did not excuse his negligence or… 

He’d blinked away the dizziness trying to drown him in that moment, focussing on Romanov sitting across from him.

Thankfully, she had already discounted him as the perpetrator which led to them trying to figure out a strategy to get Tony to tell either one of them who was hurting him. 

Tony, unfortunately, did not cave. Hell, James wasn’t even sure Tony had realized that he had tried to get information out of him.

Iron Man, who Romanov was still defending viciously, didn’t budge either, saying Tony was just clumsy or that he couldn’t tell her anything.

That did not endear the superhero to James who by now tried to stay away from Iron Man as well and had hidden the ear piece somewhere no one would find it. Why he hadn’t destroyed it was a mystery to him. Especially since he had the Black Widow's phone number and texted with her sporadically.

Hesitating for a moment longer, James glanced up at the clock again. 

Fuck it. 

Grabbing the phone he sent one question mark to the Widow. The less proof there was for anything the better.

He was about to put the phone down when a breaking news popped up on his phone. Staring down at the two lines of text already visible, James froze.

No. No, he would have- She would have-

Without thinking about it, he selected Tony’s number and pressed the call button.

He didn’t get an answer. 

Chapter Text

They would never get an answer! Even if Tony might have been thinking about telling the Avengers who Iron Man was when all of them freaked out when he’d been thrown into a building and blacked out for a hot second. All of them, especially Steve, had just been too scared, even Tony’s non-existing icy heart had almost thawed. 

Then Nat had started to lay into Iron Man and Tony Stark to find out who he got the bruises from - even if they hadn’t been half as bad as the concussion - and Tony had decided, fuck them. 

And not only because he had still been concussed or in pain but because they, some of the smartest people he knew - not academically aside from his Brucey-Bear but still so damn smart - had still not figured out who Iron Man was. 

Like… HOW? How could Nat not know, who was probably able to mind read? How could Clint not see that the bruises were so obviously from a collision and oh so similar to the one Iron Man just had? How could Bruce not understand what was happening? How could Steve not figure out that his best friend was the one he followed with these worried, soulful eyes?

And why the fuck did Pepper almost die laughing when he told her that after she had almost strangled him because of his recklessness? 

Tony wanted it to be stated in the record that he couldn’t be held responsible for the things he had said that afternoon because of the pain medication, the concussion and his exasperated frustration. 

Was it really that unfathomable that he wasn’t a gigantic fuckup? That he actually could do some good and that he wasn’t entirely useless? And that had nothing to do with what they thought how he got those bruises. He had been there. He knew. 

But right now, he was good. Therapy and Rhodey and reflection and time had helped. He was good. He was safe. Hell, he was still not sure if James swung that way or if he would be interested even if he did. 

Not that that mattered. James needed a friend and Tony wanted to be that friend for him. Especially because by now Tony was certain that his Cupcake aka the Shadow Ninja - a heroic vigilante - did not like Iron Man - a heroic Avenger. Which made no freaking sense. Especially not because his Cupcake liked Tony. Or at least Tony was pretty sure that he liked Tony, as he not only hadn’t killed or even kicked him out yet but also texted with him daily. 

Like a damn teenager. 

Hell, it had gotten so bad that Tony actually perked up when his phone or StarkWatch vibrated with a new message. In short: it was pathetic. 

Not that that stopped Tony from grinning like a fool and getting up out of his free will around 4am to meet with James.

Like a fucking idiot.

And yes, he actually went to bed early enough to sleep before getting up in the middle of the night after Pepper threatened him with another intervention - something he would try to avoid at almost every cost. 

He might agree that it was nice that all of the Avengers had come together to help him, especially since he had barely been on a first name basis with them at that point. He also might be pressured to agree that all of them had made an effort with him. 

(That didn’t change of course that he was ashamed that they hadn’t figured his secret out just yet. It did not erase all the doubts still lingering inside of him. Whispering in Howard’s voice that they would push him away the moment they learned who Iron Man was. That they would feel hurt and betrayed by his lies. That they would kick Iron Man off the Avengers and would stop speaking to Tony after all their aforementioned effort.)

Bruce had spent more time with him, either in Tony’s workshop but more often asking Tony to join him in his lab. (Tony really enjoyed that time with Bruce as he felt understood by the other man in a way he so seldomly did. Bruce didn’t care about his money or fame. Hell, he barely cared when he poked him with something sharp or tried to bribe the other man with chocolate, one of the very few luxury things Bruce allowed Tony to give him. And that was before Bruce was just there. Offering but not pressuring to listen to Tony.)

Clint had started to come around with a snack from time to time and even annoy Tony enough to leave the workshop with him. (By now he even called him Tony. Clint, as Iron Man knew, was far smarter than his behavior or history gave him credit for, which was how Clint liked it. Something Tony could appreciate. He did not appreciate the pestering, being hit in the head with food - one time it had been a PBandJ without a second slice of bread - or the frequent heart attack inducing scares he had when Clint, once again, jumped at him from God only knew where. That didn’t take away from the way Clint sometimes nudged his shoulders. Staying close. Hiding some bruises from the others while, simultaneously, staring at him imploringly.)

Nat trained him in self-defense and shadowed him so much that Tony had asked her if she wanted to be hired to be his bodyguard. She had just smiled cryptically and told him not at that moment. (Tony had been sure that she had figured him out. Then she had hit up Iron Man the day after, asking if she should cover some body guarding and Tony had decided that, no, she had not figured him out. Even if he had no idea why not. She was brilliant, saw more than Tony could ever hope for and was clearly suspicious that something was up with Tony and Iron Man. How could she not see it? He’d rooted for her!) 

Steve had started to talk to Tony, sometimes bringing him food, asking him to the movie nights (which he couldn’t do because Iron Man participated) and even asked if he wanted to go on a double date with him and Pepper. (Tony was still not sure if Steve had meant that or if it had been a ploy to figure out who he was seeing. Either way Tony was not stupid enough to agree to that. Not even if he had someone to take to that date. Aside from that, Steve and Tony, although still not close, were getting along better.) 

The Avengers were becoming a team which was amazing and brilliant. That didn’t absolve them from not noticing the obvious though. 

And no, Tony was not listening to traitors like Rhodey or Pepper or Jarvis, who told him that you couldn’t fault people for believing the lies you told them. Like, in different situations? Sure, of course. But when Earth's Mightiest Heroes weren’t able to connect Iron Man got thrown into a wall → Tony hurt → Tony = Iron Man then Tony was sorry, truly and honestly, but that was something he couldn’t forgive supersies, a master strategist and a genius as smart as Bruce!

Pushing away all of the much more mushier feelings about their acceptance and obvious care, their offers of friendship, protection, understanding and help, Tony focussed on their fight at hand.

He also concentrated on not answering all of their very worried questions even Cap asked over the comms during their active missions. Mr. No Chatter On The Comms himself had already asked four times if there wasn’t anything Iron Man could tell them. At least he’d stopped apologizing for not getting Iron Man in on the intervention. 

Truth be told, Tony wouldn’t have told himself about the intervention if Pepper had told him he wasn’t supposed to know. If you wanted a good life, you did what Pepper said. Steve truly was a bigger and braver man than Tony for dating Pepper. Hell, he loved her like the sister that he never had but that didn’t change the fact he knew the woman was basically crazy. And he loved her to death for it. Just not romantically, thank fuck. 

Not that that mattered while they fought this D-List villain, trying to do something - Tony hadn’t been listening - with his doomsday machine that was not much more than a few bombs. Bombs that he had built out of what looked like an air fryer, a diesel engine and nails. 

It wasn’t the most sophisticated contraption but would have been enough to do a lot of damage as he had wanted to use them in highly frequented places all over New York.

Thank fuck for the ultimatum he had posted online without using anything but a fake account, that Jarvis had flagged and sent over with all of his information including his sealed files, his address and the information that he was allergic to seafood and peanuts. 

Clint had proposed to throw peanut butter shrimp at him until he stopped being stupid. 

Cap had not been amused. Then again, he had been a little too focused on trying to get Iron Man talking about the person hurting Tony.

Disabling the fourth bomb, Iron Man shot off into the sky to fly to the next location. 

“How’s it going BW?”

“I’m on the way to the third now.”

“Goldstar Itsy-Bitsy. How about you, Dr. Shakyll?”

“Is someone else freaked out that our Tin Can is asking all the sensible questions today?”

“If anyone is not allowed to comment on that it’s you Bird Brain! How’s your brilliant plan going? Any shrimps left?”

“It could have-”

“Stop the chatter, we’re on a mission!”

“Oh sure, now it’s no chatter on the comms but when you-”

“Tony’s safety is more important than a joke, Iron Man!” This time there was a slither of anger in Steve’s voice. “If I didn’t know you any better, I’d think…”

Steve never finished that thought but Tony knew exactly what he would have said. Knew that it had to look like it from the outside. Knew that just because you knew someone that didn’t mean they might not raise their hand behind closed doors. 

That was thankfully something he had never done, something he hadn’t copied from Howard’s How To Be an A Grade Asshole Handbook, unlike the alcoholism (although he was dry now), the sleeping around (even if Howard tried to keep it a secret) and making weapons to blow up the world (even if he was about to stop for good - aside from the Avengers’ gear of course.

Speaking of blowing up-

“Shit!”

“Iron Man, what-”

Throwing himself over the bomb and containing as much of its impact as possible, Tony didn’t hear the rest of the question, even if he had a rather good guess what it would have been. Thank fuck he’d taken this one behind a stone wall.

“Iron Man! Answer me!

“Careful! He messed this one up.” Coughing, Tony pushed himself up on arms that would have been shaking without the armor's help. “Jay, we’re clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Iron Man?”

“I’m fine. The bomb got triggered but the explosion didn’t have enough power.” At least not enough to get through the armor. Tony still felt like he'd been hit by a train. “Be careful though, I think the unarmored among us would see that differently.”

“Noted. Stand down, Iron Man.”

Tony did not stand down. In fact, he took two more bombs from Nat’s list to make sure she wouldn’t have the same problem. Not that he wanted Bruce to blow up but he would just turn into the Hulk instead of a human puzzle.

Two hours later, after having handed over the culprit and the disabled bombs, they were finally back in the Tower. While the others had decided to eat their dinner they had skipped on because of the bomb threat, Iron Man returned to the workshop to get out of his armor. 

“Jay?” 

“I’m sorry, Sir, there seems to be a problem with the opening mechanism.”

“What?” 

“I’ve run the sequence five times now, Sir. It seems the armor is not opening.”

Reaching for the manual release, Tony almost growled when it wouldn’t budge.

“I fear you need manual assistance, Sir.”

“Yes, I get that, Jay. Call Pepper, if she’s still decent and-”

“Miss Potts is on a work call right now and in contrast to you, Sir, she is always dignified in everything she does.”

“That’s my backstabbing AI.”

“Although I know Miss Potts to be one of the strongest persons I have the pleasure to know, and that I am going to be happily serving as her subject when she takes over the world-”

“When?”

“-I fear you need someone with more physical strength to open the armor.”

Tony froze.

“Enhanced physical strength, Sir.”

Glaring up at the camera in the corner of the room, Tony did not freak out. He did not. Because he was a genius and he would find a way to get out of his armor. He would. Of course, he would. And that would not include getting upstairs to his team and say could someone please open my armor because I’m stuck and oh by the way I’m Iron Man. 

Yes, he wanted his teammates to find out but not like this! Especially not while he was stuck in his armor like a sardine in a can! 

He’d wanted them to figure it out because they were smart and then he would have been able to explain why he had kept it secret for so long after they had their fight about Tony Stark being Iron Man.

The other option (preferred but potentially deadly) was that they had to remove the armor to save his life after he had saved them or civilians. In that case they would have already cooled down some before they had their fight. 

In both scenarios it wasn’t Tony’s decision to tell them, because if it was his decision, he would have to explain to all of them, to Steve, why he hadn’t trusted them before. Why he had let them worry about him being hurt for months if he didn’t have to. Yeah, that would also be the case if they found out but then he would be able to say he couldn’t tell them (even if the reasons seemed a little flimsy even to him by this point. Aside from his crippling anxiety that they would hate him no matter how they found out.) 

To summarize, Tony did want them to find out but not like this! 

“I do not mean to ask the Hulk, Sir.”

“Yes, I know, Jarvis!” He bit out.

There had to be a different way!

-o0o- 

There was no other way. 

“Calm breaths, Sir. You can do this.” 

Tony had not enough air in his lungs to contradict his AI. 

In fact the only reason he was still standing upright in the elevator was the armor. Which meant that if the Avengers aka Steve actually got him out of the armor, he would most likely fall flat on his face before they even had the chance to lay into him. 

Silver linings. 

Forcing breath into his lungs, Tony almost fainted when the elevator stopped.

“I have the utmost faith in you, Sir.” 

“…thanks, Jay.” 

The metal doors opened and Tony - for one moment - thought about fleeing. Shoot his way out of the Tower after grabbing his helmet from the workshop and then move to somewhere no one would find him. 

Tibet was beautiful around this time of year, wasn’t it?

Then again, Tony was not a quitter. He was a Stark. He was the Tony Stark. He’d survived growing up with Howard. Survived Obadiah Stane. Destroyed the Ten Rings with nothing more than his wits and a box of scraps (and Yinsen, of course). He fought robots and mythical creatures and aliens. He’d flown a nuke into space.

He could tell his teammates that he was Iron Man. 

He would tell his teammates that he was Iron Man. That it had been logical to keep it a secret for so long that it had become second nature, that he was sorry for letting them think he was being hurt and that he wanted them to know now because he trusted them. All of them. 

Inhaling once, he stepped forward, listening to the loud clanking steps of Iron Man’s suit, feeling the missing mask almost like a missing limb.

Walking around the corner of the hall, he ignored how Nat and Bruce, who were facing his way, sitting at the dinner room table, froze. Ignored that Steve and Clint turned, their eyes going as big as dinner plates. Opening his mouth he said exactly what he had planned to say:

“My zipper got stuck, can someone help me?”

Chapter Text

Closing the zipper on his black leather jacket, James almost jumped when he felt his phone vibrate inside of his pocket.

Honey: Hey, Cupcake! I’m sorry for not coming over this morning. I was actually asleep, can you believe it? I’ll come over tomorrow! Don’t miss me too much 😜

Something heavy and constricting loosened around James’ chest. Tony was okay. He was probably okay, he amended. As long as he hadn’t seen him, James would not be too optimistic.

Before he could start typing a response, Tony had already sent a new text.

Honey: Shit, tomorrow is your day off, I forgot. 

Honey: Would you like to meet up for lunch?

Looking down at his phone, James hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to go. He did. To see Tony. To make sure he was okay. To talk to him. To listen to him. To see his eyes- no. To know he was okay and really did fall asleep. To know he wasn’t hurt.

Which was a horrible idea as someone who was either paranoid or actually hunted by whoever he’d worked for before waking up as an amnesiac. Either way, meeting Tony Stark for lunch in public was most likely the stupidest thing anyone could do.

Cupcake: Okay, where?

It wasn’t a surprise to find out he was an idiot. He’d known he was stupid whenever Tony was concerned and thinking about his honey colored eyes smiling up at him, James couldn’t stay angry at himself.

Because if Tony was hurt, he needed to know. That was the reason, not the fluttering feeling in his gut and behind his ribs demanding to see Tony.

No, it was because there was a chance that Tony needed help. It was because Romanov hadn’t answered his text yet and he couldn’t trust Tony’s safety to Iron Man. 

Yeah, that was the reason. Nothing else. 

An hour later, James walked into a smaller burger place, already looking for Tony, who had texted him a few minutes earlier that he was already inside. 

His eyes zeroed in on Tony almost immediately, even though he sat in the far corner, a baseball cap hiding most of his face. 

Because James was a trained spy. Not because Tony had a magnetic pull on him. Yeah. That was the reason.

Glancing around, James bit back a frown and a curse, although seeing the worry on the waitresses expression, he might not have managed to hide his anger as much as he wanted. 

Iron Man wasn’t here. There was, of course, the tiny chance that the pilot was in this diner hiding to not expose Tony to be here, but James knew better. Not only was no one keeping an eye on Tony, Iron Man had never accompanied him before. 

He was almost at the table when Tony looked up, a beautiful, happy smile flashing over his face and staying in his almost honey golden eyes while he looked at James. 

Yeah… he was just here to know Tony wasn’t hurt. Just that. Nothing else. 

“Hi!” Tony kept smiling up at James. Like he did when they were alone in the coffee shop. Almost as beautifully as he smiled at his first coffee cup in the morning. 

Opening his mouth, James pressed a hoarse hi out, sitting down across from Tony. Most likely smiling awkwardly and like a fool. 

Tony at least didn’t seem to mind even if the waitress seemed rather afraid for the genius. 

At least someone was worried for him! 

“Sorry, Cupcake.” Tony smiled, an apologetic tilt to his lips. “I know your morning had to be horribly boring without my dazzling personality there to cheer you up.” 

James, instead of embarrassing himself with either agreeing, mumbling something or denying which would have been obviously a lie, turned towards the waitress and took the menus she handed them before sliding one over to Tony. 

“Thanks, Kim.” Tony smiled at her although James saw that she didn’t get the same sparkle as James did. 

Not that that mattered at all. 

“You’re welcome. I guess you’re getting a coffee?”

“You’re a goddess, you know that, right?” 

“Sure, Tony.” She smiled at him, indulgently, before looking at James, her smile cooling considerably. “What can I get you, Sir?” 

“A coke please.” 

“Coming right up.” She met Tony’s eyes for a moment longer before walking back to the counter. 

“Kim is a good one,” Tony said, flipping the menu over to glance at the burger options. “She always gives me a table in the corner and keeps an eye out for paparazzi.” 

“That’s nice.” 

Chuckling a little, Tony glanced up at him, his eyes dancing with mirth. 

“What can I say? I am a joy to be around. I’m also a phenomenal tipper.” 

“Yes. I know.” James had never taken any of the money and given it to his coworkers who needed it a lot more than him but yes, Tony was a phenomenal tipper. 

Grinning happily, Tony moved on his chair and froze for a heartbeat, before sitting up a little more stiffly. It had been less than a second but James had been looking for hints like this. With Tony he always looked for hints like this. 

Balling his fist under the table, he forced himself to look down at the menu, listening only half heartedly to Tony’s rundown of the different burgers and his personal favorites (the Honey-Mustard Burger, the Honey-BBQ Burger or the Italian Burger, even if, apparently, his ancestors would torture him for eternity in the afterlife for admitting that). Instead James was listening for any signs of pain or even discomfort.

Tony, of course, had an amazing mask. Over the last couple of months James had learned quite a bit about Tony - and yes, that included taking small hints from the genius and googling the shit out of it - especially everytime he thought it was something that was or could potentially hurt the genius. He hadn’t confirmed much, hadn’t stated a lot, but by now James was fairly good in reading the smaller man. 

He had also read far too many articles, conspiracy theories and opinions about Tony. He’d also watched videos about him from the last twenty years. No, this wasn’t stalking. Or at least James very much hoped it wasn’t stalking. 

And yes, he’d googled that, too. 

Ordering their food - with mozzarella sticks as an appetizer, apparently that wasn’t negotiable - Tony smiled up at him again, this time a little less energetic. “Sorry I didn’t text you.”

“It’s fine.”

Raising an eyebrow Tony cocked his head to the side, his smile turning even warmer. “So you didn’t worry?”

They had been dancing around each other for months now, and James knew very well that all of his coworkers were waiting for new information about them after Vivian had blabbed about it - thankfully without mentioning Tony’s last name. 

The fact still was, that his whole team - even the ones he had never seen before - were now rather interested in his love life. Which was annoying. Especially if James was still not sure he should be… infatuated with Tony.

It didn’t even matter that he couldn’t offer Tony anything - he was a genius billionaire, there were very few people on this planet who would be able to do that. But James didn’t even know who he was himself. He didn’t know what he’d done. He didn’t know if someone was after him - and if someone was after him, he had no idea who it was. Not that that mattered because James was certain that whoever it was who made him what he had become, they would use anything they could against him. 

Including Tony. 

He couldn’t do that to Tony. Especially not when his fucking bodyguard couldn’t be bothered to guard his body!

But that wasn’t the topic of their conversation right now.

“I might have worried. A little. I feel like someone has to if your bodyguard isn’t doing his job.“ And now it was the topic. Brilliant, Stevens.

“Why should I take Iron Man with me, I’m safe with you, aren’t I?” Tony smiled, trustingly in a way that turned James’ stomach in a brutal way. “Despite-” he stopped, his eyes flitting to the side and James was absolutely 100% sure that he didn’t imagine the way Tony raised his hand as if protecting his chest before letting it fall into his lap and changing the topic. 

No one could change topics like Tony. 

As James had watched him do it for the better part of six months now, he didn’t let himself be distracted. Even if Tony was the master of distraction. 

Instead, James let him talk. Noticing every time his movements stopped, indicating he was in pain - and judging by his movements, his chest was at least bruised. 

It was hard to loosen his fist when the food came. Tony was right. It was delicious.

Still, James was barely able to swallow the food around the lump in his throat.

When Tony’s phone chimed, he groaned, explaining there was an important meeting in an hour and Pepper would nail him to the conference table if he would be late for it. 

“So I’ll either have to be on time or we’ll run away.” Winking at James, Tony turned to pay - James would have fought him about that if the strangled yes wasn’t still stuck in his throat. 

Fuck being infatuated, if Tony asked him to run away with him James would. 

Oh, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. 

Not that it mattered, when Tony stood up and couldn’t hide a slight flinch. 

Reaching out to steady the genius, James looked for another flinch because sometimes, if Tony didn’t see the touch coming, he would flinch or freeze. And it killed James every time, even if he, too, would freeze sometimes if he didn’t see a touch coming - but with him it was more a response he’d trained into himself the first few weeks after waking up, to avoid hurting or killing people. Which was definitely not the reason Tony froze or flinched. 

Instead Tony smiled at him. 

The curiously lively feelings in his chest started to explode when Tony, who was clearly hurt and never liked to show weakness let James support him. 

At least for a moment. 

Stepping outside, Tony all but ran to James’ bike, having already heard a lot about his beautiful girl. 

Now, he was openly cooing at it.

James stood back, watching Tony’s every move. He was pretty sure his ribs were okay - thank fuck - but his movements indicated he was heavily bruised. 

Yeah, this was it. Next time he saw Iron Man, he would make him listen. Or maybe make him talk. Either way, he would stop this. 

Ignoring Tony’s excitement - as James was sure at least half of it was Tony trying to distract him from the fact that he was fucking hurt - he reached out again, reveling in the fact that Tony didn’t flinch. That he smiled up at James again. 

“Are you- are you okay, Tony?” He’d thought that question far too often, but had barely ever asked it outright, because he knew very well that Tony would most likely not answer truthfully and James didn’t want to be lied to. 

Tony stopped, not moving away but James could all but see the rapid thoughts race through the brilliant mind before his smile softend.

"Just a small work accident. I’m fine, Cupcake.“ 

It wasn’t a lie, at least not that James could detect it. But that did not mean it was the truth either. 

-o0o- 

Of course, now that James was waiting for an attack or a fire or an accident, anything to lure the metal Avenger out of the Tower really, all villains seemed to have gone on vacation and even New York‘s citizens drove more responsibly. 

As if to spite him. 

Tony seemed as cheerful as ever. No, actually he seemed to be happier. A little tired but happy, talking about having dinner with the Avengers and feeling for the first time like they didn’t want to gut him. 

Which was either Tony’s low self esteem talking or James would give not only Iron Man a stern talking to (or much worse) but all of the Avengers. 

As Romanov seemed actually worried for the genius - even if her answer to his text had been a generic a.c. James did not believe that it was all clear - it was most likely Tony’s screwed up view of himself. 

The point was, Tony seemed better. He did seem to heal and not get injured again. 

So why was James just short of attacking New York himself just to get his hands on Iron Man? 

Easy. The armored Avenger did not come up in anything Tony talked about. The armor did in excruciating detail but never the pilot. Not about the evenings Tony now spent with the Avengers. Not when he talked about galas or his everyday life. 

Wasn’t it just too curious that he stopped being injured when it seemed Iron Man vanished from his life? 

At least as curious as the fact that Romanov hadn’t stalked James again.

It took eleven days of his rapidly diminishing patience until the Avengers moved again. At that point James was obsessed enough with finding Iron Man that he had a radar out on all social media websites for mentionings of Iron Man’s movement. 

When someone spotted the Quinjet leaving, James threw himself onto his bike, thanking the empty heavens that people were almost as obsessed with the Avengers as he was. His paranoia was also rather helpful, as he might have put a lowtech tracker on the Quinjet months ago. Just to be prepared for any possible situation. 

Driving far too fast on the highway, James did not think about the fact that he hadn’t heard about an attack anywhere close and the implications that might have to be able to actually follow the Avengers on a bike. 

At least not until they stopped in New Jersey and he thanked whoever wanted credit for the fact that he actually would be able to get to them - if they stayed there long enough for him to catch up. 

A couple of hours later, James almost drove himself into a tree when a massive dizzy spell hit him. He just barely managed to stop the bike, throwing his helmet to the side before toppling over and throwing up into a bush just beside him.

Sitting back on his haunches, he tried to carefully breathe through his nose. Fighting against the black spots in his vision. 

Knowing enough about his symptoms by now, he did not try to look at the road sign again he had looked at. Didn’t even think about the name of the military base he’d seen printed there.

Thank fuck he’d started carrying around mouthwash and strong peppermint gums just for these occasions. 

As soon as he was sure he wouldn’t throw up again or black out, he stood up, grabbed his helmet and bike and drove on. This time without looking at any signs. 

It was just about twenty more minutes before he parked the bike hidden behind a few trees. The base had obviously not been used for at least a few decades, as nature had already started to claim a lot of it back and there was some older graffiti on the buildings, almost hidden under new tags.

That, of course, did not explain the feeling of dread churning in his gut or warning bells ringing in his brain as if training for a nuclear strike. 

Forcing himself to move forward, James followed the disturbed path up to a building. As soon as he got into the elevator he activated the code to drive him down into the secret bunker while his stomach tried to somersault again. Not realizing what he’d done.

This was about Tony. He could do this.

Balling his hand to a fist there was a silent voice in his brain screaming that he should flee. That he shouldn’t be here. That-

The doors opened and James ducked down and out of the way immediately. There were loud voices fighting and-

Tony.

Why the fuck was Tony here? Did the Avengers use him, now that they talked to him? Had they maybe just started to talk to him to use his genius to get to whatever was hidden in this bunker?

Moving forward as fast and careful as he could to stay out of sight, he stopped dead, when, shown on a multitude of screens, a grainy video started playing.

James froze, the air stuck in his lungs while everything in him screamed to run, hide, flee.

On the bottom of the video there was a timestamp, declaring it to be December 16th 1991. A car crashed into a wall before, just seconds later, a motorbike horrifyingly similar to the one James was driving right now, stopped just behind the car. 

He did not need to see the face of the person to know.

Flames were already dancing on the front of the car, or the flickering white at least indicated it could be flames.

It had been flames, hadn’t it? It had been hot, when he- 

“Is that-” Hawkeye asked but never finished the question, as the black figure started to bash in the head of the man who’d crawled out of the driver’s side.

There was a choked up whimper, almost too quiet, it still sliced right through James’ heart.

The black figure, with a noticeable metallic arm dragged the body back to the car, placing it on the driver’s seat before calmly walking around the car. Strangling the passenger with his flesh hand.

Balling his fist to a hand, James felt blood drip from his palm where his fingernails dug into his flesh.

“...Mom?”

Swaying on the spot, it felt like he’d been shot. Right through the chest. Because that whimper had been Tony. 

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, n-

“Tony, you-”

The figure moved again, stepping into the light of the streetlamp while raising his gun to shoot the camera filming the scene.

James had known it would be his face. It still shattered something in him. Alongside Tony’s whimper ripping him apart.

He didn’t hear anything else.

Didn’t hear Captain America’s hoarse voice.

Didn’t hear the Black Widow or Hawkeye.

He just ran.

Chapter Text

Tony just wanted to run.

Instead he kept staring at the screen. Watching helplessly while his parents were murdered by Hydra’s best Assassin. Codename the Asset. The Winter Soldier.

He’d known that his parents had been murdered ever since finding out about Hydra. He’d even found some hints. He’d never thought he'd see video evidence. 

Fuck, he would never be able to forget. Not the shock on Howard’s - his father’s expression when he looked up into his murderer's face. Not the way the human turned weapon thanks to horrific torture and mind breaking walked around the car to strangle his mom with his flesh hand.

He was so focused on his parents that he only realized he knew those movements a split second before the Winter Soldier looked up into the camera.

It was James. Even if he looked more dead than anything, the person aiming at the camera was clearly James.

“Bucky?” Steve beside him gasped, staggering back as if hit.

Tony just stood there. Motionless. 

Even when Nat appeared right in front of him, placing her hands on his face and forcing him to meet her eyes. He just stood there.

“Did you know, Tony?” It was a strangled whisper, her eyes obviously trying desperately to hide her fury, even if it kept bleeding through. 

“...I…no…”

“We’ll keep you safe, Tony, okay? I promise.”

He needed to say something. To do something. To-

The next thing he knew, he was in the Quinjet, strapped into a seat, Steve beside him. At least as dazed as he was.

“Bucky… I thought…”

Forcing himself to focus on anything aside from the pain and the fear and the guilt, Tony looked over to his teammate. Who had taken it surprisingly well that his best friend was also Tony Stark. Who had, after just a single day, come to him, hugged him and told him it didn’t change anything, because he trusted Iron Man and had learned that Tony Stark was a lot more than even Tony knew.

Steve, who, right now, was even paler than his Irish heritage could explain. Steve, who looked as if he’d been crying, tear tracks running down his cheeks undisturbed, as if he hadn’t even known he was crying.

Tony, having grown up around stories from Steve and the Howling Commandos, of course knew who Bucky Barnes was.

He’d just not known that it was the same man he’d been flirting with for almost seven months now. 

The same man that had killed-

“Steve?” His voice sounded hoarse.

The mountain of a man beside him flinched, looking over with red rimmed, glassy eyes, despair edged so deep into his expression Tony was sure it would leave scars there.

He looked the way Tony felt. 

Reaching out, Tony realized he was no longer in his armor. Instead he had been stuffed into one of Bruce’s emergency hoodies. 

It didn’t matter. Not now.

Placing his hand on Steve’s arm, Tony ignored the next flinch. 

There had been so many nights in which Iron Man had sat beside Steve on the couch, listening to him talk about his brother, who he’d failed. Who he’d lost.

Had let the broken man cry on his metal shoulder and told him again and again that it wasn’t his fault. That there had been nothing he could have done to save Bucky. 

Grabbing Steve harder, Tony pushed down on the swirl of emotions trying to drown him. Pushing down on the agony and fear and pain and betrayal almost choking him. 

“It’s going to be okay.” 

It was bullshit. 

A lie. 

A horrific hope. 

Staring at him, Steve didn’t react for the longest time, then he pitched forward, pressing his face into the crook of Tony’s neck. Crying. 

Moving his stiff arms around the massive shoulders, Tony held onto his friend. The brother of the man who had murdered his parents. 

-o0o-

Sitting on the floor and staring at the wall, Tony wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Right now, he was far too occupied with not blinking. 

To not see Howard’s skull get crushed again. 

To not see the black figure reach into the car to strangle his mom. 

To not see the dead expression on James' face. 

To not see James smile at him, happily. 

To not see the agonized despair on Steve’s expression. 

Exhaling harshly, Tony tried to focus. Tried to do something. Because there was so much to do. First of all: hide all of the evidence Jarvis and he had found of what had been done to the Winter Soldier. To James. To Bucky. 

Steve could never find out. 

Hell, as far as Tony knew, James didn’t know about it and if he didn’t, Tony would do anything he could to keep it that way.

He also needed to get to James. He needed to make sure he was safe and… 

What? Push him towards Steve? Hit him for something he had had no control over? 

There had been a minute, a few hours earlier, when he had thrown everything he got his hands on through the room - destroying barely anything as his workshop was too well built - in which he had entertained the thought James was still the Winter Soldier. That he had played Tony the whole time. That he had made Tony fall in love with him to use or torture him. 

Then he’d remembered that it had been himself who had stumbled into the coffee shop. That James had done nothing suspicious. That there had been no indications that James tried to manipulate him. 

He’d remembered James’ flashback. Had remembered the mornings he’d looked like a ghost. The times he’d frozen when Tony touched him. The fear sometimes screaming in his eyes. 

The surprised smiles lighting up his bluish gray eyes when Tony said something ridiculous. The indulgent smiles when he droned on and on or when he reached out and touched James’ hand.

The way James frowned when he saw Tony flinch. His worry. His care. The looks Tony most likely hadn’t imagined. 

Even if that didn’t matter, did it? 

Leaning forward, he pressed his head to his knees. 

Fuck. Just… fuck. 

He must have fallen asleep because he woke up with a start when a warm hand grabbed his shoulder. 

Flinching to the side, he came face to face with Nat, her expression forcibly calm.

“It’s just me, Tony.” It was most likely supposed to sound reassuring but she wasn’t able to keep the worry out of her tone.

Relaxing in her grip, Tony just nodded. 

After telling the Avengers who Iron Man was under the armor, Nat had cornered him that night. But instead of anything else Tony would have expected, she asked if he knew that his friend was the vigilante they called the Shadow Ninja after not being able to find out what he called himself. 

Tony, taken aback, had agreed - just because most of the Avengers were blind didn’t mean he didn’t see the obvious either.

“As I said before, I fell for your act.” The Black Widow had smiled at him, carefully. “I will not fall for it a third time.” 

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” 

“Yes, I suppose we will.” She’d taken a step closer, her green eyes all but freezing him in place. “You’re sure you’re safe with… James?”

“He never hurt me.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t.”

“No, but I’m sure he doesn’t want to hurt me and that counts for something, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. But if he does hurt you, Tony, no one is going to find his body.”

Tony would never question Natasha. Her expression had been as set as it was now. She was fiercely protective of her teammates and she had included Tony in them without hesitation.

Her hand on his shoulder pressed down reassuringly as she opened her mouth. 

Tony knew what she was going to say before she got even a single word out.

“He’s gone.”

Exhaling slowly, Tony tried to keep afloat in the storm of his mind.

“He didn’t know.”

Nat didn’t answer, just kept her eyes on him.

“He didn’t.”

As it turned out, Tony was right. Jarvis had been able to find footage of James. How he followed them on his bike. How he walked into the bunker. How he stumbled out, clearly dazed. How he ran for his bike and fled.

After a couple of hours, he’d lost the trail. Which Jarvis sounded too apologetic about. James was the Winter Soldier. Of course, he would be able to avoid being seen, even if he didn’t remember who he had been or what had been done to him.

Even if they couldn’t know if he still didn’t remember.

James was gone. 

Letting his head fall against the cold wall behind him, Tony didn’t know how he felt about it. Not that he knew anything right now. Still, there was that painful longing. 

Blinking again, Tony realized he must have lost time, as Nat had sat down beside him, her shoulder pressed to his own. 

Swallowing and realizing how dry his throat really was, Tony nudged her slightly. “How’s Steve?”

“Still with Pepper.”

“That’s good.”

It was good. Steve needed someone who could be there for him right now and Tony… he didn’t know if he could. Didn’t know if it was resentment and anger or desperation and guilt that was clawing at his insides when he thought about the crumbled man that he had held only a few hours ago.

“How are you, Tony?”

“...I don’t know.”

“What do you want to do?” Nat asked that calmly and without any infliction. Without worry or reproach. Still Tony couldn’t help but hear it.

“I’m not gonna kill him.” Even the words tasted like ash in his mouth.

“Why not?” Moving beside him, Nat leaned a little heavier on his shoulder. “He killed your parents.”

Inhaling sharply, and trying not to taste blood on his tongue, Tony forced himself to calm down. Just a little.

It didn’t work.

“You’ve seen some of his files, haven’t you?” Tony spat, his hands balling into fists. “He’s a victim! Hell, Jay and I hid as much as we could right then and there and that was before I knew who-”

“Doesn’t change that they were his hands, does it? Doesn’t change that if Steve-”

“No!” Pushing her away, Tony rounded on her. “How can you even-” The anger died almost the same second he saw the actual fear in her green eyes. Fear for him. Worry for all of them. For what might happen to the Avengers now.

“It’s not his fault.”

They both knew Steve would see it differently. 

-o0o-

“Tony?”

Looking over, something heavy fell into Tony’s gut. Steve looked horrible.

“Can I… Can I talk to you?”

Talking was most likely the last thing he wanted to do right now, still he nodded because Steve seemed as if it had taken everything he had left to come downstairs.

“Of course, what’s up?” His voice sounded fake. More fake than in any interview he had ever given - and judging by Steve’s flinch, he’d heard it, too.

“I…” Steve still stood on the threshold to the workshop, as if he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to have this talk. 

Hell, if Steve knew, Tony would totally understand it if he would never talk to Tony again. 

Squaring his shoulders, Steve raised his chin, his blue eyes almost dry, as he walked into the workshop.

“I am sorry, Tony.”

Swallowing, he forced his accelerating heartbeat to calm the fuck down. This was his best friend (right behind Rhodey and Pepper, of course). His best friend who was hurting. His best friend that needed help. 

Not everything is about you, Stark!

“It wasn’t your fault.” Even if he knew Steve was almost as guilt stricken as he himself was.

“If I had-”

“No.” Pushing himself off the chair - and daming the fact that he was that much shorter than the supersoldier, Tony stepped closer to Steve, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “It’s not your fault. Not that he fell. Not what Hydra did to him. Not what he did to others. None of that is your fault, Steve.”

“He killed your parents.” 

It felt like a gut punch everytime he heard it. Everytime he thought it. 

“If I had saved him-”

“Then someone else would have killed them.” 

Steve stepped back, most likely shocked by the venom in his voice. Hell, Tony was surprised, too, but then again, it was true, wasn’t it?

“We know Hydra was after Howard. We know they always got what they wanted until we stopped them - and hell, we’re still digging up moles everywhere! If it hadn’t been- if it hadn’t been James it would have been someone else.” There were tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, but Tony would be damned if he let them fall.

“You can’t know that.” Steve all but whispered a desperation in his eyes that hurt.

“You don't know if you could have saved him.” 

“I could have tried. Instead I just-”

“Kept fighting. In the war that you were in. You didn’t just turn your back on him, Steve. You’ve told me the story often enough that I know that if there had been one single hint, any hint at all, you would have turned around immediately and looked for him. Like you did the first time.”

Opening his mouth to contradict Tony, Steve all but choked on a suppressed sob. A tear already running down his cheek again.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Taking another step forward, Tony tried to keep his body language relaxed and open. No matter that he wanted nothing more than rolling himself into a ball and hide from the world.

“Nat says-”

“We’ll find him. We’ll bring him back.”

Blue eyes searched his face, obviously looking for hatred. For revenge. For a threat to Steve’s brother.

The ripping pain in his chest hurt more than Tony would have thought he would be able to feel right now. He was the Merchant of Death, wasn’t he? Flying a highly advanced weapon of war. Of course, Steve would fear he would be a danger to his-

“She said he’s the one you've been meeting for the last couple of months.”

Nodding once, Tony tried very hard not to cross his arms protectively in front of his chest.

“Yes. I thought he was just…” Swallowing, Tony couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. 

He’d thought James was just this beautiful vigilante with issues, not- not a brainwashed prisoner of war that-

A wall of muscle was in front of his eyes and arms were around him. Hugging him close. Holding him tight.

“We’re going to find him, alright? You just said it, Tony, we’re going to find him and bring him back.”

Reaching around Steve’s middle, Tony held on for dear life. 

He didn’t mention that there was little they could do if James didn’t want to be found. That they had no right to look for him. That there was a good chance he didn’t remember Steve. That there was a chance he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with either of them.

That if James didn’t want to be confronted with his horrific past, he was allowed to stay away from them, no matter what Steve might want.

No matter what Tony would want as soon as the storm inside of him finally calmed down.

He knew all that. It didn’t matter, though, when he pressed closer to Steve’s warm chest, letting his best friend hold him. 

Tony couldn’t help but miss James anyway. 

Chapter Text

He knew he was a horrible person for it, but James missed Tony. 

It wasn’t a new thought, of course, hell, in the last couple of months, James had barely been able to think about anything else aside from what he’d done to the genius and everyone else that had been put in his path of destruction.

At first he tried to get away. He had already been in New Mexico when he realized he couldn’t run away from his thoughts. Or rather it was the first time he snapped out of the haze of guilt and fear and gut wrenching panic. 

Traveling further, he’d stayed for a month in Vegas, working in a bar as a bouncer to get by while trying his damndest to get the jagged pieces of his memory shaken loose to fit together. 

They didn’t. 

He was lucky if he was able to sleep for at most three hours at a time, trying to understand the horrific pictures in his dreams. 

It was almost a relief when he dreamed of Captain America, both before and after the serum. 

It was a relief when he dreamed about Tony and the days they had spent at the coffee shop.

In some of his worst dreams he killed Tony.

It had been roughly five weeks after coming to Vegas before he bought a crappy car (he’d disposed of the three he’d stolen to get here a long time ago) and drove back towards the east coast. Knowing full well he couldn’t go back to New York but wanting to be close just because- just because, James decided to go to Philadelphia.

There he got another job in a bar and used his days to try to find out as much about himself as he could.

It didn’t bring much more results than his searches in Vegas had. By now he knew he had been James Buchanan Barnes, born March 10, 1917. Bucky to his friends. He had been one of the Howling Commandos and either Captain America’s best friend or his lover, depending which sources he wanted to believe. Although all of those sources said he’d died back in 1945 and that wasn’t true.

He couldn’t find any hints to what had happened to him aside from flashes of memories and horrific nightmares of labs, pain, and people ordering him around. He also remembered being cold.  

Aside from that? Nothing. If you disregarded memories of people being brutally murdered by his own hands. 

He didn’t even remember details or faces, just flashes of scenes. Of the feeling of hot blood on his hand. Of screams.

Each time he heard about an Avenger’s mission, James was ready to jump in his crappy car or steal a motorbike and drive over to New York. It would have just been a little over one and a half hours. He could do it. 

He never did.

Every time there was a news report about Tony, he froze. 

Tony looked like he had in January, when he had stumbled into the coffee shop for the first time. Worn down, even if James knew not many would see it behind the glittering mask he projected to the world. 

But James had learned to look behind that mask. Had learned to read his tells and even if Tony was able to hide most of them in interviews and while reporters were taking pictures, James saw the hints. 

He’d done that to Tony. Had ripped a wound into the man’s life. Had killed his parents. Had played a friend, had shown some of his feelings for the genius, just for him to find out that James had killed his parents.

If he’d known… he would have told him. 

God, he hoped he would have gone to Tony and told him what he did. 

Instead he hadn’t told him shit. Sure, Tony would have seen hints and knew that James had panic attacks and PTSD. 

But he hadn’t told him anything else. Hadn’t told him that he was an amnesiac. That he was pretty sure someone had experimented on him. That he was a damn threat to everyone around. 

No, he had just taken everything Tony had offered him. Had led him on, if some of the smiles were anything to go by.

Instead of protecting him - which he also hadn’t managed - he had hurt him even worse. Fuck, it was his damn fault that Tony had been forced to take over Stark Industries when he had been just twenty-one!

Pulling the jacket a little tighter around himself, trying to brace himself against the cold October winds, James walked back to his tiny hole in a wall.

He missed New York. Missed the coffee shop and the regulars. Missed his run-down apartment. Missed joining in on fights with the Avengers. 

He missed Tony.

Turning the corner and ignoring the three wanna-be thugs eyeing him from the other side of the street, James tried to stir his thoughts away from the genius. 

Away from the man he had orphaned. 

-o0o-

A week later, James sat on the thin mattress on the cold floor in the rat’s nest he lived in right now and was losing a staring contest with the turned off phone lying in front of him. 

Three months ago he’d run. Three months ago he’d found out that his past was as bad, if not worse, than what he’d feared - and yes, he knew that was hypocritical. He’d known that he had been a murderer, that he had killed people. His talents and instincts had been a very clear sign from day one.

Still, knowing he had killed the parents of someone he knew? Of someone he liked? It was worse. It made him a despicable human being for thinking that, but it made it so much worse. 

There were a few options he hadn’t yet considered while he was on the run. One of them was that he could just go to Tony’s Tower and turn himself in. Something he should be doing. 

He was still not sure if that was a good idea, though. If even a fraction of what he’d read about himself and Steve Rogers was true, he wouldn’t accept that Tony had every right to kill him - or do worse.

Not that he actually thought Tony would do that. But he should have the option to do that, if he wanted to. 

As far as James could see, Captain America would not agree. No matter how he looked at it, James would not be the reason Tony lost another friend. If he hadn’t already.

He could also turn himself in at any old police station he wanted to, but it would get back to Tony and the Avengers. Also, there was still a chance he would be caught by the people who had used him. He wasn’t yet sure, but James was pretty sure that it had been Hydra. 

It would actually explain the reason why he had found himself waking up in June 2012, about 6 weeks after the Avengers had won against the Chitauri. Four weeks after different sources claimed that an internal war started in almost all government branches.

There were very few confirmed sources as the government, most likely because of pressure from the Avengers and their own incompetence, had tried to keep it hushed up, but during the months after the failed invasion, there had been massive changes in the government, law enforcement and a lot of the alphabet agencies. 

All official sources explained it was a restructuring after realizing aliens were real and they had superheroes to protect themselves, but the not so official sources had other theories. 

The Avengers had found out about an infestation in the government and had gotten rid of it. Some of the wilder theories claimed the whole Chitauri attack was a conspiracy to hide the fact that they had purged half of the people in high positions in the government, the military and law enforcement. 

James was inclined to call bullshit on that theory. But there was a shit ton of evidence for a massive reconstruction and changing of a lot of important jobs. There was also a shit ton of evidence for fights. For deaths. For incarcerations. And barely any obvious explanations.

Most online sources were in agreement that it had been Hydra. An organization that supposedly had been stopped in 1945 by Captain America himself. They had even found some information about it, even if all of those posts were either getting erased, blocked or banned. Still, James had found enough to believe the broad strokes behind the theories.

It made too much sense, especially with his very own evidence, such as that he blacked out the first time he had seen their logo.

He’d woken up an undetermined amount of time later, huddled into the corner of his apartment, a gun clutched in his hands and all in all a quivering mess.

His employers had been Hydra, all right. 

Looking deeper into everything, he’d also found theories about the Starks being murdered by someone to open up Stark Industries for someone else to run. Most people hinted at Obadiah Stane, who had taken over the company until Tony stepped up as CEO. Although Stane had stayed on as CFO until a few years ago, when he died under mysterious circumstances. Or at least that was another theory on the web.

James, of course, knew better than to believe everything he was reading on some conspiracy website, but then again, he also knew better than to believe everything the official sources spouted. 

And all of that? It might not be what actually happened but James was sure that something had happened. 

Did it matter if he knew what happened? Not really. Did he cling to those secrets with both of his hands as if they could explain anything to him? Yes.

Because he was a coward. Which was the reason why he was losing a staring contest with his damn phone.

He’d exhausted all of his options to find out what had happened. He had tried everything he could to find out more about what happened to him. What he had done. 

All of his options aside from the most obvious. He could just ask the people who were a part of all of it. 

He could ask Steve Rogers, Captain America, what happened back in the day and whether or not he and the Avengers had fought Hydra in May and June of 2012. 

He could ask Tony-

Reaching out, he grabbed the phone, turned it on and sent a single text, before turning the phone off again. 

SN : Tomorrow 1 pm Sundown Forest. I want to talk.

The Black Widow would know what to do. She also wouldn’t have any qualms to kill him, if she thought it to be necessary. 

-o0o-

He’d found a nice little meadow in the forest. Far enough from the paths that no one would get suspicious if Romanov shot him and close enough that she would be able to follow his trail.

Leaning against one of the trees, he tried to ignore the feeling of being naked and helpless that he couldn’t help but shake since he’d left all of his weapons in the car. He hadn’t come here to fight. He’d come here for answers. To get a direction.

Maybe it was a cowardly move to put all of that on the Black Widow. Maybe he hoped she would do good on her promise and end him for hurting Tony. 

If she did kill him, would she tell Tony? Hell, even if she didn’t kill him, would she tell Tony that she’d met him? Would she tell him how sorry James was, if he begged her?

Would she tell him how Tony was? Whether or not he was still getting hurt? How much-

The familiar whining sound of repulsors snapped him out of his own thoughts. 

Maybe he should have taken one gun with him. 

Not that he would fight Iron Man, of course. Not if he was here to fight him. Not even if he was here to detain him. 

Fuck it, he would take the chance either way to tell the Avenger to fucking get his shit together and actually protect Tony for once. 

Romanov might be fine sending him out to do her dirty work but she would still keep a close eye on him and James had no doubt in his mind that she would stop Iron Man once and for all if she found out he was hurting Tony. Or let it willingly happen. 

Straightening when the armor touched down on the meadow, James kept his eyes on him. Waiting for any sign why he was here instead of the Black Widow. Especially since he didn’t seem to want to kill him. Or at least not right now.

The armor opened almost the same second all of his systems had turned off and out stepped-

“Tony?”

It was a plea, a painful whisper, a hopeful prayer. Wrapped into one single word.

“Hey Cupcake.” Tony’s lip twitched upward, even if it couldn’t help the strain in his expression.

“I- You’re… Iron Man?”

Tony frowned for a moment, as if he thought James would have known that. “Yes. And you’re Shadow Ninja.”

Huffing a painful laugh, James could not bite back the disgust on his face. “When I’m not the Winter Soldier.”

“You didn’t decide to become the Winter Soldier. You did decide to help the Avengers and protect civilians,” Tony said in a way as if he’d told himself the same thing again and again. 

He must have done exactly that. Trying to justify James’ crimes before himself, maybe even others. Everyone else wouldn’t have bothered after watching their parents being brutally murdered on camera. But of course, Tony did. Standing here in front of the murderer of his parents and trying to protect James from himself. 

“I’m sorry.” 

It was too little and far too late. Not only because he’d killed Tony’s parents twenty years ago, but also because instead of owning up for what he did, he fled. 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Closing his eyes, James tried to breathe. Tried not to scream back at Tony that although his memories were still mostly lost, he did remember fractions! Remembered screams and blood and pleas. Fuck, Tony had watched the video! He knew-

“What do you remember from becoming the Winter Soldier, James? Because I’ve read everything about what they did to you. Nothing of what they forced you to do was your fault. Nothing.”  

“That doesn’t change that-”

“You were their weapon, Cupcake.” There was pain in Tony’s voice and clouding his beautiful eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

“Your parents are still dead, aren’t they?” James saw the flinch and hated himself even more for the feeling of satisfaction. “All those other people-”

“If you want to, I can tell you what they did to you.” Tony bit out, a hint of anger now in his voice. “But believe me, you don’t. I don’t want to know it for fuck’s sake but no matter what they forced you to do I swear to you, none of that was your fault.”

Opening his mouth, James almost choked when he realized that, right now, he forced Tony to protect the murderer of his parents from said murderer. Because, for one reason or another, Tony thought he deserved it. 

He didn’t, but he couldn’t force Tony to keep fighting him on this. 

He wouldn’t do that to him, too.

Exhaling harshly, James balled his hands to fists, ignoring, like he always did, the mechanical grinding sound in his shoulder. 

Tony, of course, didn’t.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

Raising an eyebrow and cocking his head in a way James had missed so much it physically hurt, because it was just so Tony, the genius smiled, even if it didn’t hide any of his other emotions. “Why don’t I believe you, Cupcake?”

“You are one to talk. Who-” Then it clicked, far too slow, but then again his head was still scrambled. “Iron Man got hurt.”

“It was mostly just bruises.”

“You got hurt.”

“Just bruises. I’m fine, James.”

“How often do you get hurt in that tin can? And why did the other Avengers allow-”

“They didn’t know either. And that’s not what we’re talking about here. You texted Nat. What do you need?”

What did he need? How about what Tony needed? How about why wasn’t Iron Man shooting him right now? How about why the fuck was Tony standing there and smiling at James like he deserved that?

As if Tony still liked him. 

As if he didn’t see James as the disgusting broken murderer that he was.

“I wanted to ask her for some information. I still don’t remember much and-” Pressing his eyes closed, James almost choked, trying to fight through all the emotions all but breaking the last of his mind that was still working. 

“I wanted to know how you were holding up.” It slipped out. But before he could do anything about it, Tony was already talking.

“You could have texted me.” It was said lightly, but James didn’t need to see Tony to know he was hurting. 

“Tony…” Even saying his name was something James shouldn’t be allowed to do. He shouldn’t be allowed to be here. To talk to Tony. To feel the admiration and love fluttering over the self hatred, guilt and agony. 

“I get why you ran. You don’t owe me anything, of course, just… I missed you, Cupcake.”

This hurt even worse.

Opening his eyes, he almost buckled under the beautiful and sad smile that Tony sent his way. A smile that even reached his eyes. 

“I missed you, too, Honey.”

Chapter Text

“I missed you, too, Honey.” It was a broken whisper he wouldn’t have recognized as James’ voice, if he hadn’t seen his mouth move.

Tony had no idea what would happen when Nat told him James had contacted her. He’d just known he needed to see him. Together they decided to not tell Steve, who was following every lead, to find his brother. 

Was that cruel? Definitely. But if they told him about the meeting, he would have come with and most likely tried to kidnap James. He would do it with the best intentions and Tony understood why. Hell, standing here it took him everything he had to not step back into the armor and just grab him and fly him back to New York. 

But if there was anyone on the planet who deserved to be allowed to decide what he wanted to do it was James. Fuck, it was a human right everyone should be able to have as long as they didn’t hurt another person! 

And James? He needed to make his own decision. And if that meant this was the last time Tony would see him, then that was what was going to happen because he would rather fight Steve than watch anyone force James to do anything he didn’t want to. 

Never again. Not if Tony could do anything about it.

Forcing another smile that felt like ripping his own heart out of his chest, Tony lost most of his hold on his feelings and could almost feel his desperation and longing bleed through the carefully constructed humor.

“There’s my Cupcake.”

Worse than realizing that he couldn’t lay claim to James like that while saying it, was the flinch that ran through the supersoldier in front of him. 

“I’m- I’m not good for you, Tony.”

Stunned by the agony in those words, Tony just stared back at James, who had raised his chin, his eyes pleading in a way that was all but ripping Tony’s soul to shreds. 

“I’m a murderer. I’m fucking Hydra.”

“You aren’t-”

“No, please, I need- Let me say this. Please.”

Pressing his lips closed, Tony nodded. As if he would not give James everything he wanted when he looked like that. When he pleaded to be allowed to speak.

“I…” James hesitated, his eyes flickering to the side, as if he didn’t even know what he wanted to say. Or as if he didn’t know how he could say it.

Fuck, maybe he just couldn’t tell Tony. 

He had texted Nat. Why the fuck had they thought it was a good idea to send Tony when it was so obvious James didn’t want to see him? When-

“I don’t know who I am.”

Biting down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood, Tony just stood there, shivering in the cold October winds and listened. 

“I don’t know…” James looked back at Tony and it broke him all over again.

“I don’t know anything. I didn’t… I didn’t know what I did to you. If I had… I would have told you.” 

“I know.” And Tony did know. James might not know who he was, but Tony did. “I trust you, James.”

James sagged, as if a string that was holding him up was cut.

“You shouldn’t.”

Shaking his head, Tony crossed his arms in front of his chest, and that was only partly because of the cold creeping into his thin clothes.

“It’s my decision who I trust, Cupcake, and I trust you.”

Looking back at him, Tony saw the exact moment, James decided he couldn’t do this. The exact moment, he drew back. And why shouldn’t he? Tony had trusted the wrong sort of people for most of his life. Why should his words be worth anything?

“If you don’t want to arrest me or… or do something else, I… I want to find out who I am.”

Swallowing everything Tony wanted to say to that, and feeling like it would get stuck in his throat forever, he nodded.

“Of course, I don’t want to arrest you. It wasn’t your fault, James. Tell me what you need and- If you want my help, just say the word.”

The silence after that was cold and long.

“Thank you.”

In the end, all he wanted were some starting points. Tony gave him everything that he had. He didn’t offer to send James all of the files he had.

Instead, he all but begged him to take the phone and the cash he brought with him.

“There is no tracker in it or anything, I just… You don’t have to use it. You don’t have to- If you need help, call me, okay?”

“Okay, Tony.” He hesitated for a moment, biting down on his lip. “Can I… Can I ask how you are?”

“I’m okay.” It was less of a lie than Tony had expected it to be. Standing here in the cold and looking at James, knowing he was better than Tony had feared, it really was okay.

James’ shoulders relaxed. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“How… how is… Steve?” 

“Do you remember him?” It was a selfish question, to buy himself some time but at the same time an important one as well. 

“Bits and pieces.” He shrugged, looking away. “A small guy. Captain- A big guy after the serum but… barely anything.”

“He’s trying to find you.”

James met his eyes again, an indistinguishable storm of feelings in them.

“I- Nat told me. We decided not to tell him because…”

“He wouldn’t take no for an answer if I didn’t want to go back to New York.”

“He’s a stubborn mother hen like that.” It was a real smile that slipped onto Tony’s lips, because Steve, since knowing who was in the armor, had stepped up motherhenning him by a tenfold, always hounding him with food and sleep. At least whenever he wasn’t trying to find Bucky. And even then had he started to text or call Tony to remind him to eat and sleep.

“I think I remember that.” James’ tone of voice was hesitant, even if he couldn’t keep the warmth out of it. 

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. Did you-” He bit his lip, his eyes widening in shock.

“I didn’t look for you.” Balling his hand into a fist before forcing it to smooth out again, Tony reminded himself that James deserved the whole truth. “I wanted to but- I have an algorithm running to be able to find you if you step in front of a camera. I thought… If you wanted to be found, you would show yourself. Or you would call.”

Not that Tony had thought James would do that. But he’d hoped for it.

“Why?” 

“Because if it was me? I wouldn’t want to be found.”

Hell, if it hadn’t been for Pepper and all his employees, if it hadn’t been for all of the lives Tony’s negligence had wiped out, he wouldn’t have returned to his life after Afghanistan. He would have left, too.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t a smile, not really, but at least his eyes had lightened a little and he met Tony’s head on. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Blinking once, Tony forced every last of his emotions down. This wasn’t about him. This was about James.

“Getting up at four am to meet you was worth it. Every time.”

Huffing a surprised laugh, a real smile lit up James’ face. Like it had so many times before.

“Take care, Honey.”

“You too, Cupcake.”

-o0o-

“You did what?”

Thank fuck Tony had stayed an hour in his workshop before going upstairs and taking a shower. And then had taken another hour before he braved to step onto the common floor and face Steve. 

Okay, he could have done that with a little more tact, than I’ve seen James, he is fine but didn’t want to come back to New York. Then again, when had he ever done anything with tact? 

“I gave him a phone and told him to call if he needs us.” 

“And then you let him go?” Steve asked, incredulously and just the slightest bit threateningly. Not that Tony gave a fuck.

“Yes.”

“Why?”  

Crossing his arms in front of a seething supersoldier was probably not a good idea but right now, Tony couldn’t have cared less.

“Because he didn’t want to come back to New York.” 

Steve stared at him as if Tony had lost his mind. Granted, he probably had, but not because of this. 

“Bucky needs help, Tony, how could you let him just go?” 

What really got to him was Steve’s tone of voice. The disappointment. The condemnation.

“Because, Steve, he is a grown man that has the right to make his own decisions.” 

“Of course, but Bucky doesn’t know anything! You said he has amnesia! Bucky needs help!” 

“He is not an invalid! He lived in New York for-”

“That doesn’t matter! Bucky-”

“It’s James, Steve! At least until he tells us to call him something else!” Tony bit out, trying to stay calm. Trying to not show how much all of it hurt. 

“His name is Bucky and-”

“It’s not.” Taking a step closer Tony knew it was a bad idea. He knew he shouldn’t push, especially not while both of them were angry. “He doesn’t remember being Bucky and I am going to respect his wishes even if you couldn’t give a damn about it.” 

Steve stepped back as if hit. 

“Tony, stop.” Bruce took a step forward, his hands held on chest height, as if trying to calm a wild animal. 

“Tell me, Bruce, if you would run, would you want us to hunt you down?” Tony hissed, barely able to keep his voice down. “Because you know I would be able to find you anywhere. Hell, none of you can be sure I haven’t chipped you.” Turning back towards Steve, he raised his chin just enough to see Steve’s vein pulse. 

“If I wanted to I could fucking own the Avengers and use you like my personal strike force. Ask Fox. Because despite the fact that I don’t do any of the shit they say, they are right. I could. Where would the Avengers be without my money, my inventions, my Tower? Now think about it Steve, what could I do to a brainwashed Hydra assassin that fucking killed my parents?”

“That’s enough.” Bruce stepped right in front of him. “You wouldn’t do any of those things.”

“Don’t be too sure, Brucey Bear. I’ve done worse.”

“Shut up, Tony.” Bruce grabbed his upper arm and pushed him towards the elevator, using a strength that Tony knew wasn’t entirely human.

Glancing over his shoulder he saw Steve standing in the middle of the living room, his face hidden behind one of his large hands.

Unlikely normally, when Bruce was very mindful of how long he touched any of them, he held onto Tony’s arm and only let go when he pushed him onto his couch in the workshop.

“Sit down.”

Having lost most of his fight, Tony sank down on the worn down cushion.

“No, I wouldn’t want any of you to hunt me down. But I also know that you would never do that to me.”

Blinking up at Bruce, he saw the other scientist look down at him, with a far too open expression.

“I know that even if it would be a stupid decision on your part, your door would always be open to me.”

“It would.” Even if it was just a strangled whisper, Tony needed to make sure Bruce knew that he always had a place with Tony. No matter whether or not the Avengers would stay a team, Bruce was a friend. One of the few people he could talk to without slowing down his brain. Someone who dared to shut him up without hurting him.

“I know, Tony. I also know that you attack when you feel hurt.”

Looking away, he didn’t contradict him. How could he? Bruce and he had gotten a lot closer since he’d learned that Tony was Iron Man - and Bruce had been the one most comfortable around Tony even before that. Now that he knew that Hulk liked him too, he had relaxed even more, secure in the knowledge that Tony had been right from the beginning: Hulk wasn’t a threat to Tony. 

Or at least he liked to interpret the situation like that. 

“It’s not Steve’s fault.”

“I never said that.”

“No, but we both know he will interpret it like that. And before you argue that, no, he wasn’t right either.”

“So what are you prescribing Doctor Banner?”

“You know better than to try to make me angry.”

Pressing his eyes closed, Tony forced himself to inhale. To calm the fuck down, because Bruce was right.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

A moment later the couch dipped and Tony wasn’t surprised to see Bruce sit down beside him.

“What’s the problem, Tony?”

Looking back into the calm brown eyes, Tony felt the telltale burning behind his eyes. Felt the tickling in the corner of his eyes. Felt pressure in his chest. 

“I didn’t want to say goodbye.”

-o0o-

It was the end of January and Tony was this ‘-’ close to strangling their noble Captain. 

No, really, this time he would murder him. Nat could get rid of the body, if she didn’t decide to just kill Tony out of principle.

“Steve, she’s only in Japan. She will come back. Cheer up!”

Watching the sad supersoldier sighing into his bagel, Tony used one of the breathing exercises Bruce had taught him. For balance and shit.

That and his friendship with Steve had come a long way in the last three months. After they had met up the day after the fight and talked. Without screaming. Actually listening to the fears and reasoning of the other.

Tony could understand that Steve wanted to do anything he could to bring Bucky - James - home. Hell, if it was Rhodey, his James, he would feel like shit too. Especially if he felt guilty.

Steve could understand Tony’s reasoning that James needed to be able to do this on his own terms. That he needed to be able to decide on his own and just for his benefit.

As Tony had explained that how he had been after he came back after Afghanistan - which had only been a short three months in comparison to James’ 70 fucking years, they had also talked about Tony’s nightmares, which Steve hadn’t known anything about. Aside from the abstracts that Iron Man had sometimes hinted at.

Since then it was at least easier to talk. Steve had stopped running after James, since both Nat and Bruce had sat him down and told him that Tony was right and that James wouldn’t be found by anyone but Jarvis or Tony if he didn’t want to be found.

Which had resulted in Steve spending more time with Tony. Talking with him. Telling him about Bucky. Asking, whether or not he’d heard anything. Because, Tony had sworn to tell him if he had.

The problem was, James stayed silent and hidden.

It didn’t surprise Tony, as their last encounter had clearly been a goodby. That didn’t change that he still missed him.

At least all of it had gone down before they had become a couple or he might have ended up like Steve - being a miserable cry baby just because Pepper was on a week-long business trip. 

“She will be back in less than three days!” He tried again with logic.

“I know.” Steve sighed.

“Do you want to have my jet? You can fly over to her.”

“No, it’s okay.” Another, somehow deeper sigh.

“Are you sure it’s okay? Because it looks like that bagel sucked out all of your energy.”

Blinking up at Tony, Steve forced a smile onto his lips that made him look even sadder.

Tony might not be very empathetic but something was clearly up.

“Steve?”

The supersoldier hesitated for a moment, before he sighed again. “Did you know the Smithsonian has my mother’s engagement ring in the Captain America exhibition?”

Tony had no idea. Not that that mattered.

“Okay?”

“I always thought, one day, I would give it to the woman I wanted to marry. Even if it didn’t bring my mom much luck, I thought… I mean I wasn’t sure I would find someone to love me but I dreamed about…” He forced another smile on his face. “Not that Pepper would even want a ring like that, I mean…”

Thank fuck.

“Jay?”

“Calling the Smithsonian, right now. Would you like to talk to the Director or-”

“Jarvis, no. Tony, you can’t-”

“No, no, just make it happen. I think 24 hours should be long enough, right?”

“I’d say so, Sir.”

“Jarvis, don’t-”

"Brilliant. Offer them that we’ll make a copy for the display.”

“Of course, Sir. Anything else you want to get back, Captain Rogers?”

“I don’t- You can’t just-”

“These are your things, Steve, of course, you can get them back.” Walking around the kitchen island, he lightly hit him in the shoulder - mostly to not hurt himself. “You have far more important things to think about right?”

“What-”

“She’ll be back in three days, you better get planning, soldier boy, or I’m going to call her father and tell him that you’re up to no good.”

-o0o-

If he’d known that asking Pepper to marry Steve would get official Avengers business and he would be sent out to find fucking daisies in January he would have kept his mouth shut. 

As it was, he was driving to some small florist right outside of New York City, who grew wild daisies - which was a contradiction in itself but Tony was happy to overlook it, if it meant he would be allowed to get back into his workshop and wasn’t used as either a fucking flower boy or to calm down Steve’s seventh mental breakdown in two days because why would Pepper ever want to marry me, Tony!

At least he didn’t have to help Bruce and Clint origami themselves to death because Steve had decided nothing of the decoration could be bought. Tony had also not pointed out that he would buy the paper for the stupid things either way because he might be stupid but he wasn’t an idiot.

Right about now he could have used one of the James’ in his life, who were both suspiciously absent.

Well, Rhodey had a good excuse, being on the other side of the world and James…

Nope, not going there again. It didn’t matter how much Tony missed him. 

Parking the car a few houses down the road, Tony got out of it and stretched his limbs. Today was, of course, horribly cold. So cold, in fact, that the florist had called him an hour ago to tell him he needed to heat up his car to make sure the daisies would have it nice and warm on the drive back. 

If he didn’t love Pepper like a sister and if Steve wasn’t his best friend, Tony would have just said fuck it all and left.

But instead of working on the new Starkpad - something Pepper had put onto his to-do list and would be pissed about when he missed the deadline - he was picking up daisies.  

“Excuse me?”

Turning around, Tony saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes and tried to step aside but was too slow. 

Something hard and unforgiving hit him in the back of the head, knocking him to his hands and knees.

Dazed, he tried to move, to get away, to reach for the taser on his wrist, when he was hit again. 

He was unconscious before his head hit the pavement. 

Chapter Text

“...witnesses say he was hit with a baseball bat and crumbled to the pavement before two hooded men dragged him into a white van. There has not been an official statement either from Stark Industries or the Avengers but-”

James froze, his eyes snapping up to the television in the corner of the small store.

“-we will keep you informed as soon as there is news about Tony Stark’s newest kidnapping.

Ignoring the yell of the clerk, James just let everything he had planned to buy fall to the floor and left immediately.

Tony had been kidnapped.

Possibly. 

Baseball bat to the head.

At least that’s what the eyewitnesses said, but those were often unreliable and-

Fuck.

Starting his bike the second he sat on it, James ignored the honks and the red traffic light and sped back to his small apartment.

Why the fuck hadn’t he kept the phone on him? Why would he be this stupid?

Well, he knew of course, because ever since he’d seen Tony’s beautiful eyes again, he’d thought about calling him almost constantly. Whenever he found something else out. When the nightmares got too bad. When he didn’t know what to do. 

Hell, it had gotten so bad smelling coffee was enough for James to want to call the genius.

My door is always open, he’d said. 

As he was still dangerous, still the murderer of Tony’s parents and still trying to figure out who the hell he was, James hadn’t yet called.

Tony deserved so much better than him. He’d deserved so much more.

He’d also thought Tony would be fine. He was Iron Man. The Avengers were living with him. 

James had truly thought Tony would be safe. 

He’d been wrong.

Parking the bike, he stormed into the building, ignoring the worried glances from his neighbors he got or the glare from Miss Smith living under him.

All but breaking through his own front door, James leapt to the loose floorboard and ripped the phone out.

Turning it on, James collected all of the weapons from around the tiny apartment, strapping most of them to his body and disposing the rest into the duffle back. 

Opening the contacts list, he pressed Romanov’s number. 

For a few seconds, nothing happened. It was just a few seconds. People needed far longer to even pick up their phones if they didn’t have them in their hands. 

They were also seconds that Tony was in the hands of his kidnappers. Seconds in which he might be hurt. Seconds in which-

“Who is this?”

“James St- Barnes.”

“Do you know anything?”

Cold fury slithered into his gut.

“No. I want to help.” There was too much venom in his voice. Too much anger but he couldn’t have cared less.

The silence on the other end was either fury or shame. Not that it mattered.

“Where are you?”

“Philadelphia.”

“Get to the Tower.”

That meant they didn’t have a lead. That she was sure they wouldn’t be any further in two hours.

“Don’t you know anything?”

“We don’t follow or track people. You should be familiar with the concept.” The Black Widow hissed. “Get to the Tower.” 

Then she hung up.

-o0o- 

Ninety minutes later, James stepped into the Tower. He wasn’t surprised when Hawkeye picked him up before security could kick him out. Not that he would have let them kick him out.

“I’m Clint.” The archer said, nodding at James and letting his eyes roam over his body, clearly picking up on at least two thirds of the weapons strapped to his body.

“I hope you’re ready for Steve because-”

“We need to find Tony.”

Nodding once, Clint smiled a dangerous, little smile. “This is going to be fun.”

Raising an eyebrow, James stared at him. Nothing about this was fun.

“Calm down, Robocop. This is not Tony’s first kidnapping and this time, we’re going to get him back.”

The elevator doors opened before he could say anymore. 

Biting his teeth together, James tried not to scream at the Avengers, supposedly Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, sitting around a fucking dinner table, staring at a few laptops - or as right now, at him.

The Black Widow had obviously warned all of them, as Banner, the calmer side of the Hulk, nodded at him and Steve- Rogers? Steve just stared at him, his body having tensed so much, James waited for him to launch himself at him.

Looking back to Romanov, he ignored everything else. “What do you know?”

As it turned out, not much.

Jarvis, Tony’s AI had been able to pick up that Tony had been followed for a few weeks now. Today, two cars had tailed him the moment he left the Tower and took their chance when he stepped out of the car.

“Who has him?”

“Hydra.”

It wasn’t a surprise, not really, still the cold fear in his gut froze over immediately.

“What can we do now?” He asked even while he knew what the answer would be.

“Wait.”

-o0o-

“Bucky? I mean- James? Can I… Can I talk to you?”

Looking up from the laptop Banner had handed him, James raised an eyebrow. The Captain… Steve had been staring at him for most of the last hour, only glancing down on his laptop when he realized he stared. 

James would have probably been more annoyed - or shot him - if he didn’t see the wonder and pain in his expression. 

“It- just for a minute?”

Looking at the blue eyes, it reminded him of a young boy he’d seen more often in some of his memories. They still felt like they weren’t his memories. Like the pictures were from a movie he watched years ago. 

Then again, he didn’t need to have memories to see the desperate plea in the blue eyes, did he?

Standing up, he nodded once sharply. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner they could get back here. The sooner they all could try to focus on getting Tony back.

Not that they could do anything without a lead. 

Following Captain America, who was thankfully not in his uniform, into another room that looked like a better hotel suite, he ignored all the other jumbled memories of himself following a man. Into battle. Into an apartment. Making him laugh. Holding him, a very small frame, while he cried.

It was disconcerting to see so much emotion in an all but unfamiliar face. Especially when directed at James. The only one he could remember to have looked at him with as much emotion had been Tony. The only person he knew he felt deep emotions for - whether he should or not - was Tony. 

No matter that… Steve might think he knew James, he didn’t. Hell, he didn’t know himself for fuck’s sake! He also didn’t know the man, even if he’d read as much about him as he could, almost missing that brotherly bond everyone said they once had. 

But that was over seventy years of brainwashing ago.

“I… How are you?”

Raising his eyebrow, James waited. Crossing his arms when no other question followed. “Fine.”

Aside from the fact that Tony had been gone for almost six hours and they still didn’t know more than that Tony had been taken, his trackers had been disabled and that they must have changed cars because the van had been found without any usable trace. 

Steve’s face fell a little more, the man that could be as much of a weapon as James, wringing his hands.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Worry.”

“You remember?” Steve asked, hope shining out of his eyes. 

No, he didn’t. At least not in the way he hoped for.

“Tony said you’re a mother hen.”

“Oh.” His face crumbled, even if he tried to keep smiling. “Yeah, I… yeah. He said… you needed…” 

“Time.” James offered, when Steve didn’t seem able to finish the sentence. There was a real worry that he would start crying if James told him that he thought he would never again contact Tony or any of them ever again back in October. 

And Tony had known that. Had he kept it for himself because he knew James would come back sooner or later? Or had he not wanted to crush Steve’s hopes?

“Yes,” The blond nodded, thankful, as if James had thrown him a line to save him. “Time to remember or, I mean, learn or-”

This was going nowhere fast. At any other time he would have felt uncomfortable about all of this but right now? He could barely force himself to care enough to stay. He didn’t know the man in front of him. In fact the only man he did know and cared for needed their help! Which was the only reason he was here. The only reason why he’d agreed to talk to Steve because they needed him focused. If that meant James had to have an awkward conversation, so be it. 

But it didn’t mean they could just waste time. 

“What did you want to talk about?” 

Steve stopped dead. “I…” 

Waiting because yes, he knew how effective silence could be and they didn’t have a lead right now but Tony was out there, taken by some remnants of Hydra who they had failed to find in the nineteen months they had been trying to eradicate them. 

He could be hurt. He could be tortured. Right now. And they were doing nothing. 

Hell, the Avengers had known that Tony didn’t have a fucking bodyguard and that he was one of the most desirable high value targets there were. And still they had let him go out on his own. 

If James hadn’t been doing even less, he would be damn angry. Scratch that he was angry.

Not that the broken man in front of him seemed to realize that. He was far too wrapped up in his own demons. 

“I thought you were dead. I thought… but you aren’t and I’m sorry.” 

Knowing enough to not take it literally and to be able to guess that the whole situation must be horrific for the other man, James just nodded. 

“If I’d known…” Steve looked up helpless in a way that drove a knife straight through James’ heart because he knew that feeling all too well. 

If he’d known, he wouldn’t have led Tony on. 

If he’d had a say in it, he wouldn’t have become the Winter Soldier. 

If he could, he would remember what the man in front of him once meant to him. 

“You didn’t. You were frozen in ice. What happened isn’t your fault.” Was it stupid that he heard Tony’s confident voice while saying these words? 

“I should-”

“It’s not your fault, Steve.” Meeting the blue eyes head on, he continued. “I don’t blame you for anything that happened to me.” 

Pressing his lips together Steve nodded, even if it was obvious he wanted to say something more on that topic. 

Nodding too, James was already turning away when Steve stopped him again. 

“What about Tony?” 

Looking back at Steve, there was something new in his expression. Something almost cautious. 

“What… I mean… back, before… you always liked both gals and fellas. No one knew, of course, aside from me, but…” Steve hesitated again, but it looked different. Almost more ambiguous if that was possible. 

“I… Tony missed you.” 

James froze. 

“After everything- you have the right to do what makes you happy and what’s right for you no matter-” He stopped, clenching his jaw as if it hurt him to say those words, but the conviction burning in his blue eyes, yeah that was something James remembered - even if the face had been smaller and gaunt. 

“You need to do what’s right for you. I’ll back you all the way. Whatever you need. Just… whatever that is, Tony is a great guy. If he’s not what you need, you should tell him.” 

-o0o-

It was nine hours later, just after 1am the following morning that they finally got a lead. Fifteen hours since Tony had been taken.

And James had done nothing aside from sitting there and thinking about Steve’s last sentence before leaving the room. It hadn’t felt like a threat. Not really. It had been obvious Steve worried for him - and for Tony. 

Steve obviously thought that Tony… still liked him? After almost 6 months of basically no contact? After finding out that it had been James that killed his parents? Because no matter that he had been brainwashed - and he had found enough information about that to know he had been not in control of his actions - it had still been his hands. It had been his face staring up at that camera after Howard and Maria Stark’s life’s had been cut short.

Tony should hate him. Hell, if he wouldn’t hate him then he should at least keep his distance from James. He should be happy that he stayed away. 

Instead, Tony had made him a suit.

As if he’d known James had discarded the one he had been wearing while being a vigilante as soon as he’d known it was a remnant of Hydra. Hell, he’d almost ripped his metal arm off, too. 

As if Tony had known he would come back. As if Tony wanted him to come back. As if he wanted him to be a part of the Avengers.

It had been Romanov, who had told him about the suit an hour after his talk with Steve. 

“Do you want to wear the suit Tony made for you?” 

On the surface, it should have been an innocent, an inconsequential question. Seeing the way all of the Avengers had stopped to look at James it hadn’t been. 

Not that the tone of the Black Widow had left any questions open whether or not it was an inconsequential question. 

And that was even without the context of the talk he’d had earlier with Steve. 

It hadn’t been a question at all.

The suit was perfect. It wasn’t a surprise, of course, still it bore mentioning. Because Tony had taken the time and the materials to make it. Because he had sat down and designed something that suited James so much better than what he’d had before without even once having the chance to see his former suit or talk with James.

But that didn’t matter to a genius like Tony, did it? 

Somehow, he had known. Like he had known - hoped? - that James would come back. 

Aside from finding out as much as possible, James had taken the last few months to try to figure out who or what he was. As his traitorous thoughts had strayed over to Tony far too often, he had also come to a good few conclusions. One of them was that, if Tony wanted to, he could destroy James' life.

There was no doubt in his mind that if Tony wanted that, he could find him, no matter how well he hid himself away.

If Tony had come looking for him, James had never even seen a hint of that, which was unlikely.

Even more unlikely was the fact that he had never, not even once, not even for a second had actually thought Tony would break his promise.

Realizing that, and that he knew with absolute certainty that Tony could destroy him if he wanted to, but trusted him absolutely, that he wouldn’t, was the moment James also realized that he actually loved Tony.

Yes, he’d known he might have been in love with him, but this was more, wasn’t it? He was literally betting his life and his freedom on Tony. After being used as a weapon for over seventy years by an organization that, as recent history had shown, didn’t have as much power as Tony Stark and the Avengers.

Either it was love or he had lost his marbles completely - and as he didn’t trust literally anything or anyone else, he was sure that wasn’t it.

That of course hadn’t had anything to do with the fact that he’d come back to the East Coast because, no matter what he might feel for the genius, that didn’t matter at all. He’d already taken too much from Tony. He would not take anything else.

Letting his fingers run over the smooth material of his suit, that, according to Dr. Banner, would withstand strong forces and extreme temperatures, James couldn’t help but feel a flare of selfish hope.

Not that any of that mattered right now, especially not when the plane touched down, barely a forty minute flight later.

Tony hadn’t been more than a few hundred miles away, hidden inside of a supposedly abandoned warehouse.

James had no idea how the Black Widow and Tony’s AI had been able to find the information they had and he couldn’t have cared less if he tried. The important thing was that they knew where Tony most likely was and that there was a tunnel system under the warehouse.

There was a vague memory in the back of his mind when he nodded after receiving his orders from Captain America, planning their attack. It was just a feeling that he’d done this before. A feeling that his plan would work.

Captain America, the Hulk and Hawkeye would stage a frontal attack and make as much noise as possible while the Black Widow and he would infiltrate through two emergency tunnels Tony’s AI had found.

None of the Avengers had said a word when the Captain had given his orders. Which didn’t mean the glare he’d gotten from both Widow and Hawk hadn’t made sure he knew that being the former friend of Steve Rogers would not save him if he fucked this up.

As if he would when Tony’s life was depending on him.

He was the first one being dropped off in the nearby forest, a comm in his ear and geared up to the teeth. The only thing he wasn’t thinking about were the bandages Dr. Banner had insisted he take with him. Just in case.

Disabling the security system was almost embarrassingly easy. Getting in was embarrassingly easy. 

Following the narrow tunnel with its emergency lighting deeper under the earth, he ignored the creeping feelings of fear starting to worm themselves into his stomach. Forcing himself to breathe calmly. To ignore other vague memories of dark tunnels. Of ice cold air. Of hands-

No. This was about Tony. Tony who had been taken. Tony who needed his help.

He froze when the earth shook for the first time, his metal hand grabbing the wall, while the other clutched the combat knife painfully hard.

The attack had started.

Speeding up while listening for any or all noises - including the crumbling of the ceiling - James pressed forward. It was all but eerie how quiet it was despite the muffled explosions from above. 

There were no screams, no yelled orders or any noises suggesting someone was down here.

What if they had moved Tony already? What if he had never been here and it was all just a ploy to waste their time? What if-

“-need to get him out of-”

“Just kill him for fuck’s sake!”

Panic, so very familiar and so damned different all but choked James, who had to force all of his instincts down of just flat out throwing himself around the next corner that was just a few precious seconds of running away.

“No! We need him-”

“Better he’s dead than that the Avengers get him back or-”

Two people as far as James could tell. Two people who were most likely more focused on yelling at each other than what happened around them. But he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t know that.

Changing the combat knife for a gun, he tried to reach for the cold that sometimes cut off all of his emotions making him more of a robot than Tony’s AI. 

There was no cold. No calm. No reason. All there was was heat and fear and the need to get to Tony. To keep him safe. 

Forcing another noiseless inhale, James moved.

He didn’t give the two Hydra goons any time. He’d shot both of them before either of them fully realized what happened. 

Disgust hit him full force, almost blinding him as memories flooded his mind, trying to drown him in grayed memories of this situation. Of him, pulling the trigger. Ending countless lives and-

He couldn’t break down, now. Couldn’t fucking lose his senses, couldn’t-

Forcing another inhale, forcing his senses to remain here. Right now. In the dingy tunnel, the smell of blood heavy in the air. Trying to focus on the sounds of explosions. They weren’t bombs. Not like that, not-

Focussing on the smooth material of his suit. It wasn’t constricting like the other had been. It didn’t dig so deep into his skin that it would leave marks. Because Tony had made it to protect him.

Tony who was right here. Who needed help. Who would be killed if he didn’t fucking get a move on.

Not looking down on the lifeless bodies, James moved. Ignoring the puddle of blood. Just a few paces later, there were doors to either side of the mockery of a hallway. All of them were heavy steel doors. 

He’d found the cells.

Clutching the gun tighter, James carefully opened the first door.

Nothing. It was an empty, small room, a thin mattress on the bare floor and rings on the far wall to chain prisoners to.

Pressing his eyes closed before ripping them open again, he did not allow the memories to get the better of him again. 

Didn’t allow himself to think about what he would find when he opened the next door.

Turning, he opened the next. And the next.

And the next. 

The sounds from above had changed. They sounded more muffled which hopefully meant that the Avengers were wiping the floor with Hydra. If it wasn’t… 

Walking over to the next door, James almost pulled something in his shoulder when the door wouldn’t move.

For just a heartbeat, he wanted to rip it off its hinges, consequences be damned. Knowing how thick the doors were he would be able to, but not without damaging his metal arm even more than it already was. Not that he gave a single fucking damn about his pain but what if he needed to carry Tony? What if he needed to protect him and couldn’t?

Glancing back down the hall where he had left the bodies, he had to force himself to move back. To leave Tony again. To move back to two more people whose life he had taken.

“Just a second.” He pressed his human hand to the steel door before taking the first step.

Holding his breath to not smell as much of the blood, he ruffled through the pockets of the first. Nothing. The second one thankfully had a keychain James just ripped off of him.

The blood was warm and sticky on his hands.

Rubbing them roughly over his suit, he held tightly onto the keys. 

Pressing the second key in, another wave of fear hit but this time James didn’t stop. Just pushing open the door.

The cell looked like all the others. Aside from Tony being hung by his wrists at the far wall. 

James’d crossed the few steps before he even realized he’d started moving, reaching out with a trembling hand. 

“Tony?”

Objectively speaking, the genius didn’t look too bad. He had clearly been beaten, his ripped clothes showed bruised skin. He sported a black eye and dried blood in his hair and down his face. 

Objectively this was not as bad as it could be. 

Subjectively James could barely stomach to see the blood. To see Tony, who always moved, hang still in the shackles, his feet just barely touching the ground.

His skin was clammy and too cold.

“Tony, come on, open your eyes for me.” It was an order and a plea and a prayer all in one. 

Glancing up at the shackles, James was sure he would be able to rip them apart if the key for them wasn’t on the keychain. The problem right now was that he couldn’t be sure that Tony didn’t have a broken rib - if he did, James couldn’t just move him around and possibly puncture his lungs.

Rubbing his thumb over Tony’s cheek, careful to not press down on his blackened and swollen skin, he pleaded again. “Come on, Honey, look at me.”

Tony didn’t.

Glancing over his shoulder to where he had left the keys stuck in the door - like a damned fool - James hesitated. He was lucky that no one had already sneaked up on him and trapped them both here - but letting go of Tony just wasn’t an option.

Before he could decide what to do, Tony moved. 

“Tony?” Looking back at the genius, James moved the body a little, to help him rest against James, without jostling him too much. “Come on, Honey, wake up. I’m here, you’re going to be okay.”

The genius moved his head a little, pressing his cheek to James’ hand, as if trying to get more contact.

“...Cup…cake…” it was a raspy whisper and so slurred that James was barely able to understand it.

“That’s right, Honey, come on, open those eyes for me.”

It took him some tries and even before James saw the glassy gaze and the wide blown pupils he had known that Tony was drugged.

“Hey Honey, there you are.”

“...Ja’s…”

“Yes, I’m here. I’ll get you out. You’re okay, Honey.”

“...hmmm…” His eyes fell shut again, the few moments of concentration already too much for him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you out.” Leaning forward, James pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead. At least, Tony knew he wasn’t alone anymore.

Chapter Text

Tony felt heavy. But there was something in the back of his mind. An urgency. Trying to move, he realized his body was too heavy. Also, one of his hands was held down. 

Wait.

Trying to blink his eyes open, it took long enough for other senses to finally register in his brain. The air smelled of disinfection. He was laying in a bed with a heavy, scratchy blanket over him. His upper body was elevated and if the speed in which he was thinking was anything to go by, that meant he was drugged up good and either in a hospital or in the lab of an evil scientist. 

It should probably worry him more that he was able to blink his eyes open blearily before recognizing he was in a hospital room - and deciding the lab of a mad scientist would have probably been less of a hassle. 

Then again, if he had been still in a mad scientist's lab Rhodey and Pepper would surely drag him to a hospital as soon as they found him. 

That begged the question of what had happened and who was holding his hand hostage. Turning his head was almost too exhausting but even if he was sure it wouldn’t be a kidnapper trying to pose as his family, you could never be too careful if you were Tony Stark. 

Instead of the military haircut or the strawberry blond he’d assumed he’d see, there was a messy bun of brown hair.

“James?”

The supersoldier snapped to attention in less than a heartbeat from where he had been dozing in the chair beside Tony’s hospital bed, his eyes jumping to the door, his bionic hand grabbing a gun tighter, before he met his gaze. 

“Tony.” 

The relief in his name took Tony’s breath away. As did the happy smile crinkling up James' beautiful gray-blue eyes.

Wait… what?

“Thank fuck you’re awake.” James moved, letting go of the gun right beside Tony’s knee and offering Tony a cup with a plastic straw. 

Which was of course what Tony, supposed genius and giant dumb ass, focused on. 

“Why is the straw plastic?” His voice was still hoarse but at least didn’t hurt as much.

James followed his gaze to the straw before his smile turned almost too indulgent. It all but hurt to look at him like that.

Especially if this was just a drug induced hallucination. How the fuck was Tony suppossed to go back to a Cupcake-less life after that smile?

“They didn’t know when you would wake up. Would you rather have wet paper in your water?”

“You don’t have to put the straw in the minute the water is filled into the cup, you know? You could have just put the straw in after I woke up and-” He stopped when he was rudely interrupted by James’ laughter.

“This is a real issue! It’s a slippery slope from having a good explanation to use plastic straws to dumping toxic waste in rivers!”

“For you, maybe, but Tony, most people don’t have that much power. And I think it’s far more important that big industries stop using plastic and if they do, recycle it rather than you using a single plastic straw.”

“That’s true but-” This time James interrupted him again, but not with laughter.

Staring at the other man, whose lips were pressed to the back of Tony’s hand, he couldn’t help the blush that crept up into his cheeks.

What the fuck? If this was a hallucination, he didn’t want to wake up.

James had never looked away, his bluish-gray eyes trained on Tony’s. Sitting back up, he smiled, this one a little uncertain. 

Tony was barely able to concentrate on it though as his skin still tingled where James had just kissed him.  

“How are you feeling? Because if I don’t ask that, an angry mob is going to pitchfork me.” 

Ah yes, he was in a hospital. He was heavily drugged, wasn’t he?

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, Pepper told me not to believe that. She is going to be back here in a bit. She and the others are giving a press conference right now.”

“Okay, let’s pretend I don’t remember anything. What’s going on?”

Frowning, James’ hand clenched around Tony’s before, he loosened his hold again, rubbing his thumb over the back of Tony’s hand. Over the place where James had just kissed him.

“What do you remember?”

“I asked first, Cupcake, I think you should answer me.” 

God, Tony had missed the unimpressed stare and the raised eyebrow of disbelief.

“I was…” he tried to think back. “I was helping Steve. I think something for- did he ask Pepper to marry her already?”

“You mean did he find time to propose to your sister while you were kidnapped and unconscious in your hospital bed? No, not that I know of.”

“Ah come on, if he stops his life every time I get kidnapped-”

“Every time?” His eyebrow moved a little higher, while his expression changed into a dangerous glower.

“It’s gotten better since Iron Man and-”

“You mean the fake bodyguard you supposedly have?”

“Iron Man is a brilliant bodyguard!”

“Not if you are out there without that damned tin can!”

“How dare you!”

“You were bruised enough that the Avengers and I thought you were abused!” There was real heat in those words. Real worry. 

“I’m not.”

“That’s debatable, isn’t it?” James leaned forward, his gaze piercing Tony’s. “I’ve seen Iron Man fly between the Hulk and a missile.”

“The Hulk would have-”

“Survived without a scratch. Tell me, Tony, what did that missile do to you?”

It had bruised at least 75% of his body, cracked two rips and damaged the casing of the Arch Reactor. Not that Tony would volunteer that information.

“That’s what I thought.” James’ voice was just above a whisper but that didn’t hide the real fear behind those words.

Fear that, if Tony woke up to find himself strapped down somewhere, would flay him open. Because no matter how messed up that might have been, he wanted James to look at him like that. He wanted to see humor in the eyes, wanted to see them light up with something that he’d hoped was real interest back when they hadn’t known about all the secrets between them.

“What happened?”

James didn’t answer for the longest time, as if he waited for a specification. What happened between them? What happened to James? What happened to Tony while he had been kidnapped? What happened during the rescue that James had teamed up with the Avengers?

“You were kidnapped by a faction of Hydra while trying to buy flowers for Steve’s proposal to Pepper.”

“Daisies.”

“I didn’t ask what flowers you were supposed to pick up when you were kidnapped by Hydra.” It was most likely supposed to be a snarky comment, but it was too quiet. “I saw it on the news, called Romanov and got to the Tower.” James didn’t say a word about the talk he must have had with Steve. Because there was no way that Steve hadn’t taken the chance to speak to his long lost brother. 

“It took us nine hours to find a lead. Your AI did in the end.”

Smiling, Tony couldn’t help but feel pride for his youngest AI. Of course it would be Jarvis who found him.

“I did have help from Agent Romanov.” Jarvis' voice was muffled but loud enough to be understood even by the non-enhanced.

James, who all but flinched, reached inside of his pants pocket and placed the phone onto the bed. 

“Jay, did you illegally download yourself onto James’ phone?”

“I did, Sir. I am happy to report that at least he takes your security seriously.”

“Flattery is getting you nowhere, Jay. We promised to not track James. Delete yourself off his-”

“Actually…” James started, his eyes focused on the phone rather than Tony. “You can stay on my phone, Jarvis, if you keep me updated on Tony.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes. Sadly I am not authorized to disclose private information to you without the explicit agreement from either Sir, Colonel Rhodes or Miss Potts.”

“What would I need to do to get permission?” James asked the phone.

“You could ask me!”

“Yeah, but you’re just going to tell me, that you’re fine and we both know it’s a fucking lie.” James didn’t even turn to him, his eyes still on the phone.

“You can ask them or, as you pointed out previously, fill the empty role of bodyguard for Sir.”

“Iron Man-” Tony started again, half heartedly, and what did he get for his effort? Another eyebrow of disbelief and a snarky comment from his AI with too much I. 

“Iron Man would be a great bodyguard if he cared as much about his own safety as he did everyone else's, Sir.”

“Blasphemy!”

“I fear that could be a conflict of interests.” 

Looking up from the phone at James’ serious voice, Tony frowned.

“If this is your way of telling me you’re about to kill me, I have to say that’s not clever with Jay listening in. You’re recording this Jay?”

“No, Sir. We decided to not track Mr. Barnes and that does include recording him.”

“Glad to know you have my back, buddy.”

“Always, Sir.” Even if Jarvis had no face, Tony still heard the shit eating grin. “But I do think Mr. Barnes has a far better motive for his worry. And if you allow me the comment, Mr. Barnes, in my eyes, it would be a beneficial factor.”

Instead of quipping himself, James blushed. It was not pronounced, but there was enough of a flush in his cheeks to make it obvious. 

Holy fuck what was going on? Also, if this was all just in his head, Tony would be massively pissed. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on - but if the thing was going on that he thought definitely couldn’t be going on, then he definitely did not want to wake up!

Fuck, he was probably still too drugged up to even know what the fuck was going on.

While Tony had slightly panicked, James had apparently found his courage. 

When he looked up, Tony could barely remember the cold, almost broken man he had met over a year ago. Right now, his eyes were filled with a restrained hope and conviction.

“I know that I don’t have any right to say that. Not after what I did, not after running away. I’ll be happy if you allow me to be your friend. I’ll be happy if you hire me to be your bodyguard. But if you want me to, I’d like to- I… I’m in love with you, Tony.”

Staring back at James, who didn’t budge, who didn’t look away, after baring his feelings. 

It was probably the first time Tony was speechless. At one of the worst times possible.

Instead of doing anything even halfway dignified, Tony moved. The plan was to lean forward to reach out for James, look into his beautiful eyes and then kiss him. 

What did happen was he moved forward, pain exploded in his side and because he wasn’t a fucking quitter he let himself pitch forward, groaning pathetically.

“Tony!”

Thank fuck for supersoldier and their amazing reflexes. 

Looking up at James, who was holding him, his arms oh so carefully around Tony’s body as if he was terrified of hurting him more. Which could happen, he still didn’t know how injured he actually was. 

Not that that mattered right now. 

Wriggling slightly, and breathing against the pain, he moved his head upwards enough to press an awkward kiss to James’ chin. 

James, who up to that point had looked close to freaking out, froze, his eyes widening dramatically. Which seemed stupid after he kissed Tony’s hand and said that he was in love with Tony. 

He had done that, right? 

Before Tony could spiral again - and there was no proof he would have - James was there. Placing his hand to Tony's cheek, guiding his face into a more comfortable position before he himself leaned down. Pressing his soft lips against Tony’s. 

Without the stench of disinfectant all around and the dull pain finally making itself known to Tony, it would have been perfect.

Letting James deepen the kiss, Tony melted against him. The pain, aches and dull understanding that his brain was probably only working at 50% capacity, if at all that much, was pushed to the back while relief sharp and hard cut through the steel cords that had held him together ever since seeing that video.

Ever since learning that James had left.

Since James had said goodbye.

When James broke the kiss, Tony felt the cool air on his face, only realizing he was crying when he blinked his eyes open and felt more tears run down his cheeks.

“Tony, what-” James tried to move back but Tony just held on tighter, burrowing his face into his chest. It wouldn't stop the supersoldier if he wanted to leave of course, but it was all he could do right now. At least without embarrassing himself even further. 

Slowly, oh so carefully, James’ arms wandered around Tony again, keeping him safe, while the ex-assassin murmured calm reassurances into his hair.

As if Tony was worried Hydra would get him here. Fuck, that didn’t even make his top fifty worries right now.

Trying to calm his breathing, he listened to James’ strong heartbeat. Listened to the promises. That he was safe. That the Avengers would be back here in a bit. That Pepper would accompany them. That Rhodey was on his way.

That James would stay.

“You mean that?” It was a hoarse whisper but Tony needed to hear it again.

“You’re safe, Tony. Nothing-”

“No.” Moving back, while still holding on as tightly as he could, Tony looked up into the worried eyes of the man he had fallen in love with almost a year ago. “You’re going to stay?”

James’ eyes widened again, before his lips widened into a warm, sad smile. 

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Chapter Text

“Move or I’m going to drag you out by your feet!”

“Jarvis will not allow-”

“I must contradict you, Sir, Miss Potts said that if you miss her wedding she will steal Captain Rogers for herself and give you Stark Industries back.”

“She already stole him! My best friend! She is marrying him!”

“I’m going to tell Rhodey you said that.” 

“You, too, Cupcake?” Tony glared back at James, a streak of motor oil still across his cheek. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

“Not if you’re an idiot.” Walking over to his genius, James pressed a kiss to Tony’s cheek, unable to hide his grin any longer. “Come on, best man, we can’t let them wait, can we?”

“I’m Tony Stark! I can-”

Ignoring the tirade, James threw Tony over his shoulder, careful to not put too much strain on his chest, before marching them both out of Tony’s workshop.

Tony had put more time and effort into this wedding than even the bride and the groom, but as James had learned over the last couple of months, even a futurist might slightly get worried when two people he considered family started a new chapter.

Which didn’t mean that he hadn’t put his all and even more into the wedding and everything surrounding it. If Pepper or Steve had let him, Tony would have bought them an island - he’d threaten it often enough. 

They had finally negotiated that Tony was allowed to pay for their honeymoon ifPepper was allowed to book it.  

“I’ll donate so much money in their name, you fucking watch me, Cupcake!” Tony had whispered furiously after finding out how cheap - Tony’s words - their honeymoon was going to be.

James hadn’t said a word to that, just watched his lover plan how to trick their friends into accepting more money because, as Tony put it, if they didn’t deserve the world who the fuck did?

In James’ humble opinion, Tony did. 

Even before he’d known who Tony was, the stranger that was making him feel again, giving him a nickname and who just offered a laugh and understanding deserved the world. The genius that tried so hard to change the world did. The former Merchant of Death, who’d realized his mistakes and was now trying to do better by the world did. The hero piloting the Iron Man armor, who risked his life every time the Avengers were called into action did. 

The man who loved his family and would rip himself apart to be there for those he cared for deserved the world.

The man he loved did.

Tony stopped finally hitting him after the elevator doors closed and was now hanging placidly down his back, his head most likely resting on his hands. He found that most comfortable.

And yes, James had to drag him out of the workshop like this often enough that Tony had a most comfortable position over his shoulder.

James was absolutely convinced Tony deserved the world and far more but that didn’t mean he was blind to the asshole the love of his life could be. 

Thankfully, he loved him even more for that.

“Are you going to be a good boy and go shower or-”

“Jarvis, if this ends in sex I want it documented that James started it!”

“I made a note. Although, Sir, I’m sure Mr. Barnes is far more reasonable about that than you.”

“Traitors! All of you!”

Rolling his eyes, James put Tony down inside of their luxurious bathroom, pressed another kiss to his temple and closed the door while Tony was on one of his Rants™.

“Anything else that needs to be taken care of, Jay?”

“Captain Rogers seems to have a mild crisis, Mr. Barnes.”

“Of course, he has. Keep an eye on Tony while I deal with that.”

“Very well.”

How the fuck had that become his life? Not that he would change any of it. He wouldn’t change the chaos that was the Avengers. Wouldn’t change the sarcastic AI. Would never change Tony.

Hell, standing in the elevator, wearing a fine suit and keeping everything on track so that his brother could get married to the love of his life would be more than he deserved. Being a part of the Avengers? Having a life? That was far more than he deserved.

And that didn’t even scratch the fact that he had the privilege to date Tony.

Walking onto Steve’s floor, James ignored all the signs of Captain America losing it. There was no one more anal retentive than he - which made the fact that there were three half empty coffee mugs on the kitchen island slightly concerning. 

“Steve?”

The blond all but bolted out of his bedroom. “Bucky? Are you okay? Is there an attack? Is-”

“Breath in, Stevie. Everything is fine. You’re getting married to one of the best people on the planet in three hours, and nothing is going to change that.”

Steve stopped, clearly taken off guard by the nickname that James had never before used. 

After months of therapy - on all of their parts - they had found a system that worked for them. By now, James had some of his old memories back and even if they still felt distant and as if they happened in another life, he also remembered some of the love and trust he had had in Steve. Combined with what he had done for both James and Tony, it was enough to fall into a brotherly relationship with him.

So much so, in fact that he’d agreed to be Steve’s other best man, as both bride and groom had claimed Tony as their best friend, which concluded in their decision to share Tony and have an additional best man or bridesmaid. 

Pepper had chosen her sister. Steve had asked James.

It had been just after James had accepted to be called Bucky by Steve. After an intense session in which they had talked about their hopes, expectations and fears.

I don’t want to lose you again, Bucky. Steve had said, his blue eyes shining with tears. I want to get to know you. You’re my brother no matter what.

“Stevie?” It was a shocked whisper from the blond.

“I used to call you that, didn’t I?” Before he could say anything else, he had his arms full with a sobbing Steve Rogers. Who was a lot heavier now than he once had been. Then again, James was a lot stronger than he once had been.

“You remember.” It was a sob and a laugh and relief all voiced in two words.

“Yeah.” Holding Steve for a moment longer, James rubbed soothing circles into his back. “I also remember that Sarah raised you better than making your bride wait on her wedding day.”

One mental breakdown later, James stepped back onto the floor he and Tony lived on, just to find Tony half dressed in a deep conversation with Bruce, who apparently had wanted Tony to help him tie his tie - which ended in them discussing some revolutionary science. 

Sometimes James was sure he was the only sane person living in that Tower. And that was a horrifying thing to think about.

Sending Tony back to finally dress himself while helping Bruce to straighten out his tie, they went over the emergency plan if Hulk was to show up at the wedding. No one aside from Bruce believed it would happen, but of course they had made a plan B to calm the genius.

Plan A, as Tony insisted, was to just order more food and let Hulk celebrate with them.

Acceptance, as James had learned in therapy, was something he had to master if he wanted to survive his past. It was also absolutely necessary to stay sane when you dated Tony Stark and lived with the Avengers.

An hour later, James had Steve, Tony, Bruce and Clint - who they had had to track down inside of the vents, because of course they had - finally wrangled into the Quinjet. If he hadn’t lost that stupid bet with Nat, she would have had to keep track of Bruce and Clint.

Who could have known that Pepper, brilliant, compost Pepper, would finally lose it after a small glitter bomb in her office? 

Nat had known. 

A week after James had lost the bet, Tony had mentioned that it had been the fifth glitter bomb that had been targeting Pepper after a break of several months. Because Nat, the asshole, had planned this down to the last glitter fragment. 

Which meant she was with Rhodey and Pepper already at the venue, most likely enjoying a glass of champagne and quiet while James wished himself back into a battle zone for some calm and quiet.

On the bright side, right now he was just flying, while Bruce and Tony talked Steve off of the proverbial ledge and Clint kept an eye out for any potential tails they might get.

As the media spectacle wedding was planned for next month and they had faked a business trip for Pepper so that no reporters would hopefully crash the wedding but you could never be too careful.

The risk of a world ending debacle was actually surprisingly minor as Iron Man had threatened to turn Supervillain on all of them if they fucked that up and the vigilanties around the city had sworn they would try to keep everything under control.

There was at least a chance everything would go smoothly.

Forty minutes later they landed in a field near a beautiful little hotel at a lake. They had about another hour before the ceremony would start. So enough time for some more breakdowns or a world ending event. 

James knew better than to trust the calm around him. 

Surprisingly, nothing happened. That might or might not have had anything to do with the countless plans and preparations Tony had developed and activated to keep the date and the location hidden. It could be, because even Clint wasn’t enough of a prankster to prank them at a wedding. Or it was because Pepper would kill them all if they ruined this for Steve. 

James was fairly certain it was the last thing. Even if he wouldn’t tell Tony that.

There were very few people in attendance as this was just for family and friends and both Pepper and Steve preferred to have the celebration be small and intimate. They would have a celebration later on for political reasons but this, today, was just for them. 

No matter how much Tony had lamented about his devastation that they wouldn’t ride into the chapel on elephants whenever Steve was close, in the dark of night, tangled between their sheets, Tony had whispered that he would want that, too. 

A private celebration. No cameras. No people who were there for publicity and connections. 

The genius had fallen asleep just a few minutes later. James hadn’t.

Not that that mattered today, of course. This was about Steve and Pepper. 

Meeting Natasha’s eyes after the ceremony, she nodded once. Everything was still quiet. 

Four hours into the wedding, James was sitting on pins and needles. They had just finished eating and were about to start with the speeches. He’d never really considered that they would possibly get this far without a major catastrophe.

And no, that was not a sign of depression or anything else. Even his psychiatrist had to agree with James that the sanest thing to do while living with the Avengers was to expect the unexpected and that everything would go wrong. 

It saved time. 

It also drove you batshit crazy if nothing horrible happened. But that was just a side note.

As much as the fact that both Pepper’s sister and he had forgone to give a speech and had agreed to give Tony the spotlight - something Tony had threatened to heavily abuse.

“And now to the important part of today! My awesome speech!”

Rolling his eyes, James saw the smiles and chuckles all around the room. Because no matter what the world thought, the people gathered here knew Tony.

Knew that he was one of the best things in the world - and yes, James might be a bit biased but that didn’t make it any less true.

“First of all I would like to take credit for all of this, because not only did I hire you, Pep, I also saved New York.”

“SI would have gone tits up years ago without me and I remember that it wasn’t only Iron Man who saved New York.”

“Unimportant details, Virginia, I taught you better than that.” Tony made a dismissive hand gesture, his beautiful eyes shining with a childlike glee. “Secondly, I encouraged Steve to finally grow a pair and ask Pepper out so all of this is basically my success.”

“I asked Iron Man.”

“Yes, Pumpkin, and last I checked I am Iron Man.” Tony winked at Steve, nothing but pride and happiness in his expression.

For just a heartbeat something painful and heavy clenched his heart, stealing his breath away. Because it was only a little over a year since Tony had told anyone aside from Pepper and Rhodey that he was the armored hero. 

Little less than six months since he’d started saying these words without a threatening undertone as if challenging anyone to contradict him. 

“Thirdly, I encouraged you to propose to my lovely sister, no offense Ady.”

“None taken.” Adelia raised her glass, smiling at Tony. “If you hadn’t pushed Steve, I'd have called you up for an intervention.”

“In that case I’m horribly disappointed we didn’t do that!”

“Yes, that would have been definitely worse than coming home to you being kidnapped and the floor half covered in decorations.” Pepper said, dryly. 

“We talked about that, it wasn’t my fault!”

“Get on with the speech, Tones, we’re all waiting for the cake!” Rhodey called from the side, not bothering to hide his grin.

“Yes, take away all of my fun, Honey Bear! This is my best friend getting married to my sister. If I’m not allowed to make fun of them here, when am I ever allowed to make fun of them?”

James didn’t answer any day of the week but only because Steve, for once, was faster.

“You fell in love with my brother!” It probably should have been fake outraged, but as Steve hadn’t been able to stop beaming like the sun himself ever since he’d seen Pepper in her elegant wedding dress, it fell a little flat.

“I did but I didn’t know he was your brother, did I?”

“I didn’t know she was your sister!”

“No you didn’t. You thought she was dating my boss - who is also me - which is far far worse.”

“I didn’t know that! Nobody knew that!”

“Still, not a very classy move, is it, Steve?” Clint drawled, unsuccessfully hiding his smile behind his glass. “That’s not what a gentleman would do, right?”

“I asked Iron Man what I should do because I didn’t want to cause any trouble! He told me to go for it!”

“And that is exactly my point, isn’t it?” Tony smiled, like the cat who got the canary. “All of this-” He made a wide motion with his arms, seemingly including everyone and everything. “It's because of me.”

“Everything the light touches.” Clint stage whispered. “Maybe you should ask for another psych eval. It seems Iron Man is finally losing his marbles.”

“Says the strange man living in the vents.” Tony scoffed before turning back to Pepper and Steve, his expression changing just enough to signal to everyone who really knew him that the next thing would be something important to him.

“Pepper you’ve been an amazing PA, CEO, friend and sister ever since you stormed into my office and told me none of my accounts were doing their fucking job. You are one of the strongest and most patient people I am allowed to call family. When you take over the world, I will be more than happy to serve under you. Thank you for loving my best friend.”

This time no one said anything. 

Tony’s eyes were still bright and full of love, while Pepper, for the first time today, blinked away tears in her eyes.

“Steve, the first time I met you as Tony, I wanted to punch you in your perfect teeth, because yes, everything Howard said is true. You’re a true hero. Someone who doesn’t even hesitate to do the right thing. As Iron Man I was proud to work with you in the Avengers from the start. You’re one of the bravest and kindest people I’m allowed to call family. I knew you would be perfect for Pepper the second I saw your admiration for her. Thank you for loving my sister.”

Pepper, who was still trying to not cry, most likely to not ruin her perfect makeup, was smiling up at Tony, while Steve didn’t even try to hide the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“You both saved my life countless times. You are what I hope I can be one day. You both deserve the best life has to offer. I can’t tell you how happy I am to know you found it in each other. You deserve each other and that is the highest praise I can give you. I love you both.” Inhaling, Tony squared his shoulder and turned, his burning eyes meeting James’ and pinning him to his chair.

“With the explicit approval of Mr. and Mrs. Potts I’m also doing one more selfish thing today. James Barnes… When we met, there were far too many secrets between us we didn’t talk about. Since then I paid a shit ton of money to professionals to learn to use open communication so here goes nothing: I love you. I want to spend my life with you. I want forever. Please marry me, Cupcake.”

The silence was too long. Too heavy. Too much. But James was frozen in place. Frozen by the honey colored eyes looking at him with so much hope and love and happiness that he didn’t know how to react to it. Didn’t know what to say because he had pondered the question whether or not he was allowed to propose to Tony. Whether or not he could even hope for that.

Even with his extensive therapy he still sometimes woke up, feeling blood on his hands, seeing Howard and Maria Stark while he murdered them. Remembered Tony’s choked voice while watching the video. 

He would wake up beside Tony, the slim arms around his body, and the genius whispering promises of love and forgiveness into his ears. He’d started to believe him. But that was still a far cry away from Tony wanting to tie himself to James.

To marry him.

To spend his life with him. 

Opening his lips to answer, because he’d waited too long. Because Tony had a horrific low self-esteem and still thought that people would leave him even if noone who really knew him would be stupid enough to ever abandon Tony.

Least of all James.

But he was too late.

“I still think you should have gone with you wanna be my bitch for life?” 

James didn’t even bother to look over when Clint was hit with something rather heavy and fell from his chair. He also didn’t need to look back to know it was Natasha who would attack the archer if he gave her another reason. 

He was still far too occupied with looking at his genius.

The man who had visited him for months in the middle of the night (Tony’s words) to talk to him. The man who had been there through every panic attack. Who had forgiven James’ crimes. Who had poured his heart and soul into James’ new arm. Who had stood by him through the flashbacks, the therapy and the nightmares.

Who hadn’t asked for anything in return. Not once.

Until today.

And he asked for something James had planned to beg off him, on his knees, if he had to. 

Inhaling, James let the smile bloom on his expression. Let the love and the appreciation and the wonder show. 

“Yes, Honey.”