Chapter Text
Tony stops, watching Steve fall to the ground. “I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I’m sorry, Steve, I didn’t know I fired the repulsers––”
Steve lets out a soft groan, indicating that he is alive. Before Tony can apologize again, he is pushed away from Steve with a strong force. His suit hits the wall, and it takes him a moment to adjust his coordination. When he looks up, Bucky is glaring at him.
“I’m so––” Tony tries to say, but his breath is knocked out by a strong punch, directed at his arc reactor.
Bucky is driven with anger.
He punches Tony with his cybernetic arm again, causing the suit to bend inwards. He lets out a growl, then drives his hand into the arc reactor with more force.
“Buck!” Steve calls out, voice hoarse. He lies on his back, hand pressing over his wounded torso. It’s brought him down, for now, but he will be fine. He’d taken worse hits before.
Bucky, however, doesn’t listen. He keeps his metal hand digging into Tony’s arc reactor, crushing it. Tony’s faceplate slides up, mouth open in a silent scream. He tries to push Bucky away, but fails.
“You hurt Steve.” Bucky grinds out, jaw clenched.
The casing around the reactor shatters. Tony lets out a sharp breath, and slides to the ground.
Steve’s eyes widen, and he scrambles to sit up, pushing down the pain. “Buck,” he whispers. “Stop.”
Bucky backs away from Tony, adrenaline rush abruptly coming to an end. He glances to his metal hand, which is covered in blood, then back to Tony, who is shaking, face smeared with sweat and blood.
Tony closes his eyes, allowing his head to fall back against the cold wall.
When he was a child, he dreamed about meeting Captain America.
Howard always insisted that Steve would be alive––even forty years after they’d lost him. He believed that Steve wouldn’t be put down by something like that. Because Steve was strong, and brave. He fought the world, and he always won.
Tony dreamed, too, about becoming like Captain America.
He built himself a replica of the legendary shield when he was only twelve. He carried it everywhere, pretending to be Captain America. Pretending to be his hero.
He saved a kitten, once, with the shield. He was on his way home from a small shop, accompanied by Jarvis, when he saw a group of children throwing rocks at a kitten and sneering at it. Tony hurried over, protecting himself and the stray kitten from the rocks they threw. The kids made fun of him at first, but they eventually walked away.
Jarvis was proud of him. He told him he would certainly become a hero, much like Captain America, when he grows up. Tony carried the kitten home, proudly showing it to his parents. The first life he’d ever saved.
Howard didn’t allow him to keep it. Dirty kitten, might be carrying all kinds of diseases. Leave it in a box, we’ll drop it off at a shelter. Go focus on your studying, don’t waste your time trying to play a hero.
They didn’t take it to a shelter. Tony saw the kitten just outside the house two days later. It meowed at him. Tony asked it to wait, and came back several minutes later with some leftovers he took from the kitchen.
Tony wondered, then, if Captain America would have been proud of him. Or would he have called it a waste of time, too?
As Tony grew older, he began to despise Captain America. It seemed that he would never be like him. He always made mistakes. He wasn’t brave. He was selfish. He was everything Captain America wasn’t.
Jarvis told him heroes came in all shapes and sizes; not all heroes had to be replicas of Captain America. Tony was good at other things, he could use his own skills to become a hero.
And for a while, he thought he did. When he became iron man, many years later, he believed what Edwin Jarvis had told him. Maybe he could be a hero. A different type of hero. Not a perfect man, and certainly one filled with flaws, but maybe… maybe it could work.
He became a role model. A modern hero. Sure, the government wasn’t particularly fond of him, but the public was. People actually liked him for once. He lost some money when he stopped making weapons, yes, but he gained respect. It was most definitely worth it.
But then, Captain America returned. Tony, of all people, had found him.
It was surreal.
He’d dreamt about this moment his entire life. Created and played different scenarios in his head, imagining his first meeting with the legendary man. And Tony had saved him––he was the one who got him out of the ice! Steve may be thankful, but more importantly, he may be proud.
But their initial meeting was like none of the scenarios he’d imagined. Man in a suit of armour, take that away and what are you?
It suddenly rained down on him. Why would Captain America be proud of him? He didn’t even know him. He didn’t know that Tony slept with his Captain America toy for years, or that he’d practiced the heroic poses in front of his mirror every morning. He didn’t know that he was the only man Tony ever aspired to be like. He didn’t see that Tony.
All he saw was a coward hiding behind a suit of armour.
It hurt. But Tony couldn’t show that. He snapped back with a snarky comment instead. He knew it’d only make the Captain hate him more, but to hell with it. Of course Captain America wouldn’t like him. Howard had told him that, over and over again.
Tony just never wanted to believe it.
But after Tony flew the missile into the wormhole, Steve seemed to warm up to Tony. He smiled at him, for starters. He spoke to him with more respect. Overall, their relationship was improving.
And holy shit, was he actually becoming friends with Captain America?
But he was Anthony Edward Stark. Nobody liked him––they simply tolerated him. He should have known that, but he was an idiot. Always an idiot. Always hoping to genuinely be liked by someone. Always getting disappointed when he doesn’t.
Then, just when he thought he was finally becoming Steve’s friend, Ultron happened. Tony fucked up, like he always did. He fucked up because he was a fucked up person, a bad man. Because he wasn’t Captain fucking America. He couldn’t keep his thoughts straight, he couldn’t stop being selfish. He couldn’t differentiate between what was right and what was wrong.
He left the Avengers. They had no place for him, really. A team of superheroes? Please. Tony didn’t belong. To think he actually thought he did, for a while. Pathetic.
Steve gave him a kind talk, though, before he left. He told him he’d miss him… even after all that he did.
Maybe second chances were real.
That was why when the government issued an order––SHRA––to bring in and categorize superheroes, Tony was on board. He thought about it; the issue seemed to make sense. Put limitations for superheroes. Don’t let them become like Tony, making mass murdering robots because of their fucked up insecurities. It would ensure that everyone running around calling themselves a hero was actually one, not simply a villain on the verge. Not to mention that it would provide them with backup, whether it be on missions or for medical reasons.
It seemed like a perfect solution to stopping “heroes” from crossing that thin line into becoming villains. The line that Steve Rogers had accused him, rightfully, of crossing. The line that that he’d crossed long before he was iron man, too, when he was making weapons.
This would be his chance to finally make Steve proud. Not only as Captain America, but as his friend. As the man who gave him another chance. Tony needed to show him that he’d learned from his mistakes.
But he was Tony fucking Stark. Nothing in his life was good. Nothing he ever wished for came true. Nothing he worked for came out as he’d expected.
He walked up to Steve, smile wide on his face. Proudly told him that he was on board with the government’s new issue.
Steve didn’t smile back.
Instead, his face scrunched into the angry–and-disappointed expression he seemed to have reserved only for Tony.
Steve was against the rules this time.
Tony wanted to laugh, really.
“You’re okay with it because you’re Stark,” Steve snapped. “You revealed your identity on national television, you gave out your home address, because you know that whatever happens, you’ll walk out of it. You have the money, you have the people to help you. Not everyone has that privilege.”
“You’re not wrong, Steve,” Tony admitted. “But you were the one who didn’t approve of Ultron, of Vision. You didn’t trust my judgement, said I started a war before it was due. This is a way to redeem myself. This is a way to make sure no one else has to go through this.”
“This isn’t about you, Tony!” Steve said, exasperated. “I’m not putting innocent lives in danger because you want to redeem yourself.”
“But I..” Tony began. He understood Steve’s perspective, he agreed with him. But he also saw and understood the cause behind the SHRA, truly believed that it could act as a solution. “I just think maybe we shouldn’t push away the idea entirely. We can work a solution, maybe something in the middle.”
Steve scoffed. “Like what? The act has one sole purpose. It wants to register superhumans, to use them as weapons. There’s no modification of that.”
“Maybe we can register them, but ensure they don’t get used as weapons.” Tony suggested. “We can make sure that they’re only registered for their own good. If we have their names, we can help them when they need us.”
“SHIELD can do that.” Steve pressed. “There is no need to take this to the actual government. I don’t trust what they’ll do with them. I don’t trust that they won’t be Hydra.”
Steve wanted to stop any chances for Hydra to show up again. Tony wanted to stop any chances for something like Ultron to come up again.
Tony understood both perspectives. He just didn’t know how to work with them. He was trying to find a midpoint, a way to balance his ideas with Steve’s. Unfortunately, Steve wasn’t thinking the same way.
It got worse when Bucky showed up. Tony found out about him from Natasha, who was growing tired of Steve pushing her advice away.
“I just need him to understand that we can help him.” She said. “We won’t let them hurt Bucky. They want to bring him in and put him on trial. We want to bring him in, run him through a few tests, then declare him innocent and let him go. They won’t be able to argue with us, then. Not if we prove that he’s experienced severe emotional and mental trauma. But if he just wants to run away, expecting them to let Bucky go because he’s Captain America’s friend, it’s not going to happen. They need to see that Bucky is no longer the Winter Soldier, and Steve’s testimony is not enough.”
Clint didn’t agree with Natasha. He seemed to be taking Steve’s side with avoiding the government altogether. The lingering fear of Hydra and betrayal. Wanda sided with him.
Tony didn’t know what the hell they were even on about. He chugged down some of his whiskey before asking, “What’s this about, exactly? Who’s the Winter Soldier?”
He was met by blank stares. Clint spoke up first. “Cap didn’t tell you?”
“I guess not.”
They looked at each other, exchanging hesitant glances. Wanda narrowed her eyes. “If Captain didn’t tell him, it’s best we don’t. He only told people he knows he can trust.”
Well, then.
Natasha let out a patient exhale. “It’s not exactly a secret anymore.” She turned to Tony. “James Buchanan Barnes. Name ring a bell?”
“Of course,” Tony answered. Who didn’t know James Barnes?
“He wasn’t dead. Hydra took him in, brainwashed him. Made him into the Winter Soldier. We saw him just before Ultron happened, but we were trying to keep it secret. We were looking for him.”
“And you didn’t think I’d be able to help you find him.” Tony stated. “Or, wait, you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about this?”
“No reason to.” Clint said with a shrug. “Winter Soldier killed your parents. Steve wasn’t exactly sure you’d be willing to help us find him once you found out.”
Tony raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. “You’re not serious. I may agree with Nat, and say we should have him get evaluated, but I’m not going to blame him for what Hydra made him do.”
He hadn’t realized the team thought that badly of him.
Tony let out a shaky breath, setting his bottle of whiskey down. He stood up, cleared his throat, and excused himself.
He wasn’t going to have a panic attack in front of the team.
Luckily for him, the second time he had a panic attack that week, his face was hidden by the suit’s faceplate.
He wasn’t sure how it’d come down to this. Him, as Iron Man, fighting Steve as Captain America. They were fighting each other, directly, because they didn’t seem to be agreeing on anything lately.
Steve started the fight. Tony was too stubborn to stop it.
“Steve, Natasha has a point.” Tony said, midway through the fight. “And so do you! But you have to give her some credit, she knows what she’s doing. She won’t throw Bucky into a mess unless she knows she can get him out of it.”
“I’m not risking that.” Steve said defiantly, throwing the shield at Tony again.
“Why are we fighting?” Tony yelled. He stopped, arms raised. “God damn it, why are we fighting? You’re a wise man, you should know better than this. People need proof. They need to see that Bucky is no longer the Winter Soldier. They’ll let him go. It’s simple!”
Steve grit his teeth. “It’s not. I lost Bucky once because I couldn’t save him. I’m not losing him again. I can’t trust them. What if they play Natasha? She brings him in for evaluation, and they kill him? Turn out to be Hydra? I can’t let them get his hands on him again.”
Tony paused. “I thought,” he said slowly, “that you were the one who told me that every time someone tries to win a war before it starts, innocent people die.”
“This is different.”
“Is it, really?”
“I’m sorry, Tony.” Steve began. “You know I wouldn’t do this if I had any other choice. But he’s my friend.”
Tony was at a loss of words.
I never said he wasn’t, he wanted to say. I just want you to listen. I want to help your friend, too. Because if he’s your friend… he’s mine. Because we are friends. I thought we were friends, I thought… I thought you’d given me a second chance.
“So was I.” He whispered.
Steve looked down.
So I wasn’t. Tony thought. Of course I wasn’t. I let this happen every time. Every damn time. Of course I’m not your friend. You’re Captain fucking America.
It falls back to his childhood. Every time.
It’s his fault, really. He’s always optimistic, always hoping to mean as much to Steve as he does to him.
And every time, he’s reminded that he never will. And it hurts just as much.
They didn’t speak after that. They saw each other in fights on occasion, but they had other things to attend to. Despite common belief, Tony Stark actually did work for Stark Industries.
Then, during another of their fights, Bucky brought Rhodey down.
Rhodey didn’t die, but he fell into a coma. The doctors told Tony not to get too hopeful.
The next time they meet, Tony is fed up.
“I get it. Bucky means the world to you.” Tony says bitterly. “But Rhodey meant the world to me, too. Look what you’ve done to him.”
Steve lets out an even breath. “I’m sorry about what happened to Rhodey, but this could have all been avoided if you hadn’t insisted on helping them hunt down Bucky.”
Tony laughs in disbelief. “This could have all been avoided if you got your head out of your ass and listened to us! If you’d just––if you trusted us!”
Things go downhill very rapidly, and Tony finds himself being attacked by two super soldiers.
He doesn’t use the full power on his repulsers.
He can’t.
What the Hell even happened to them? All of them? Several months ago, they were fighting together. They stopped Ultron, and Loki before that. They fought against multiple alien attacks, against Hydra.
His eyes blur, but he’s too afraid to blink. Too afraid to feel the tears trail down his cheeks.
Tony looks up to Steve, desperate to see something. Anything. A sign that he, too, doesn't want this.
All he sees is determination as Steve hits him again, and again and again.
FRIDAY speaks up, pulling him out of his stupor. Boss, power’s going down. Your heart rate is rapidly rising, as well as your body heat. Your oxygen levels are falling.
Tony ignores her.
The shield hits his head, suddenly, and he feels the world go black for several moments. He must have a really bad concussion by now.
He’s losing orientation, unsure of where he’s standing anymore. He’s unable to focus his eyes on what’s in front of him.
He’s pushed back, and he feels himself falling.
The wormhole is closing in on him. His repulsers aren’t working. He tries to fire them, but they’re not working, he’s still falling––
Someone yells out in pain.
He’s... no longer in the wormhole.
He’s watching Steve fall to the ground, eyes shut, clearly in pain. He––His hand is pointing in Steve’s direction, repulsers ready to fire.
Oh, no, he thinks, eyes widening. Oh, shit, no––God, did I hit him? Did I hurt him––holy fuck, no. No, no…
“No, no, no.” He whispers repeatedly, making his way to Steve. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t––”
His eyes blur again, breaths becoming shallow and shaky. He brings his hand down slowly, staring at Steve’s form. “I’m so––I’m so sorry, Steve, I’m––”
He hurt Captain America.
He hurt Steve.
They were right. They were all right. Tony was no hero. He was a messed up piece of shit, that’s what he was. He––he hurt everyone. Because he was selfish. Steve was right, this was all his fault––he hurt Steve, he killed Cap––
Steve groans, begins to move slowly.
He’s alive.
Tony opens his mouth to speak up, to apologize again, to tell him he was sorry for being such a shithead, but he doesn’t get the chance to. Bucky attacks him, full strength, and throws him into the wall across the room.
He punches Tony’s suit, eyes filled with anger.
Hatred.
“I’m sorry, God,” Tony sobs, voice weak. He doesn’t fight back. “God, I’m so fucking sorry, for everything, I thought I was doing the right thing, I just wanted to––I just wanted to make it right, but I’m never right, I’m always––”
His breath catches when Bucky shoves his cybernetic hand directly into the arc reactor, and pulls it out.
Tony thinks he hears Steve say something. Maybe he’s just imagining it.
“You hurt Steve,” Bucky says in a dangerous tone.
Tony lets out a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean––”
“I remember it.” Bucky whispers. “I remember it all.”
Tony furrows his eyebrows, unsure of what Bucky is talking about.
“Howard begged me to stop.” Bucky continues. “I killed Maria first. Then I carved the heart out of Howard, and I enjoyed every second of it. Just as much as I’m enjoying this.”
He crushes the casing around the reactor.
Tony can’t breathe.
The faceplate slides up, and Tony tries to take a breath, but the pain––his whole chest is on fire. It feels like someone took a pack of needles and stabbed them in, all at once, and God, he can’t breathe––
Bucky’s weight suddenly shifts off of him, and Tony is able to let out a sharp breath. He struggles as he intakes another one.
He’s tired.
God, he’s so tired. He just needs some rest.
He rests his head back against the wall, and closes his eyes. He just needs to rest.