Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tony huddled on his bed, pressing up against his mother as she attempted to comfort him. He was crying, the kind of half silent, heaving sobbing that a person used when they were trying their very best not to cry, but were failing. Maria Stark held her son close to her side, murmuring soothing, nonsensical words in her melodious voice and rubbing comforting circles into Tony's little back.

Finally, after several long minutes that felt more like hours, Tony was able to calm himself enough to make out his mother's words. They were the same tonight as they were every other time his father had laid into Tony for some minor, usually imagined, offense. Yes, Tony may have been a genius at ten years old, a veritable child prodigy, but he was still just a child. He liked to do things other children liked to do. Well, maybe not the exact same activities, but his innocent wonder and natural energy were the same. Tony liked to run wild just like every other boy his age, but Howard Stark would have none of that nonsense.

This last time had felt particularly harsh to young Tony. So he had been running through the halls of the mansion, a cardboard shield on his arm that he had made himself, and was pretending to fight the evil Hydra soldiers who had invaded his home. And, okay, he was making a lot of noise. But fighting Hydra soldiers was loud work, right? That wasn't his fault. Tony was just trying to be accurate and true to life. Apparently, his father didn't see it that way.

Tony had never felt so afraid than when he saw Howard come storming out of his office toward him, eyes bright with drunken anger. There was no hitting, nothing physical, not that time at least. Mother had gotten him away in time, but that didn't stop Tony from hearing the screaming. The screaming meant for his young ears.

“You're no Captain America and you never will be! You're no hero, Anthony,” his father shouted at him as tears already began to run down Tony's cheeks. Howard may have been drunk, but he was still a brilliant man and knew exactly what he was saying. They all three knew this and it only made Howard's words all the more cruel. “You will never be even half the man Captain America was, Anthony! You hear me? You are no son of mine!”

Just thinking about those not far gone words had the tears welling up in Tony's brown eyes again. His mother saw and squeezed him more tightly to her, murmuring gently to him. Would he like to hear a story? Sometimes Tony felt he was too old for stories, but tonight he wanted nothing more than to hear their story, the one she told only for him. No one else got to hear this story, just him and her. It was special, theirs. So he nods and she pulls him close, tells him their story.

“This world is a difficult place to grow up in. So much rides on your young shoulders. On everyone's shoulders. Life is hard, especially if you go through it alone. But do you know something?”

Here Maria paused, waiting for an answer. Tony had heard this story a million times before and knew what the answer was, but he played along, shaking his head no and widening his eyes dramatically. It was more fun that way. He felt all warm inside when she smiled down at him.

“We have each been granted a most precious gift. In this world there is that one person who completes us, who is our complement in every way. They are out there somewhere, just waiting to be found. And when you do find them, they will be the most beautiful, precious person you ever saw.”

“But how will I find this person, Mom? How will I know who it is?”

Maria smiled down at him when he asked his traditional questions. “Just keep your eyes open, dear, and you will find them. All it takes is a little faith and a whole lot of determination. Never give up. Keep searching. And one day you will find them, your Soul Mate. No one knows exactly how you tell when you've met your Soul Mate. But when you do finally find them, you'll know.”

“Is there someone out their for me?” Tony asked, hope so painfully clear in his voice.

“Of course there is, darling,” Maria assured him, petting his hair, but Tony frowned and suddenly veered off script.

“Could my Soul Mate be anyone, Mom?”

Maria hesitated for a second, startled by the question, but smiled anyway. “Yes, Tony dear. Your Soul Mate could be anyone on this Earth right now. And if I know you, you'll find yours someday, my stubborn boy.”

Tony returned her brilliant smile, feeling better already. When his mother left he stood and walked over to the large poster of Captain America on his wall, the smile on his face growing even wider.

“You forgot a part, Mom,” he murmured to the smiling image, reaching up to trace the white star emblazoned on Captain America's shield. “Our bond will be unbreakable. The other half of each other's souls. Forever.”

His grin slowly faded and the tears threatened to return. Not even the brilliant smile and confident pose of America's hero immortalized in posters and the other merchandise scattered about the room could cheer him up. Tony looked away from the poster, turning to face the room and every piece of Captain America merchandise ever made. His bedroom was like a museum dedicated to the super soldier. Captain America's brilliant blue eyes stared out from every corner. Sometimes they were happy and other times they were fiercely determined, but they were always focused on Tony. Usually they made him feel like he could do anything he put his mind to, but today they just reminded Tony that he was not the legendary captain.

“There's no way it will ever be,” Tony said sadly, keeping his eyes firmly on the floor as he made his way to the bed and buried himself beneath the covers. “Not for me.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?”

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist,” Tony recited from memory every title the media had ever given him. Captain America, however, was less impressed than the public by his list of accomplishments.

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

“I think I would just cut the wire,” Tony retorted.

“Always a way out. You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero,” Rogers all but snarled. That was Tony's limit.

“A hero? Like you?” Tony shot back, expression as fierce and angry as he could make it, long ago memories of an avenging angel in red, white, and blue forgotten in his fury. “You're a lab rat, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle!”

Rogers' eyes narrowed angrily. “Put on the suit. Let's go a few rounds,” he challenged.

“I'm not afraid to hit an old man,” Tony threatened. Although, truth be told, that was mostly bluffing. Somewhere deep inside was that little boy who still adored Captain America and, no matter how hard he tried, Tony could not forget that this hateful man before him was the strong and kind alter ego.

“Put on the suit.”

Yeah, never mind. He was serious. Tony could definitely hit Rogers, no problem. He was even considering forgoing the suit and having it out right here in the lab in front of Fury and everyone, damn the consequences. Then the Hellicarrier tilted violently like it had been hit by a bomb, flinging Tony across the room where he landed against a wall. To Tony's eternal chagrin, Rogers had managed to keep his feet and was stumbling over to help him up. For a brief moment Tony considered refusing, but then his focus turned to the rumbling and general tilting feeling of an off balance Hellicarrier.

Rogers grabbed him around the waist, pulling Tony somewhat upright and directing them both toward the door and the hallway beyond. Tony's shirt had ridden up at some point during the proceedings so he could feel the warmth of Steve's hand against his bare skin and a sudden, sharp jolt of pain. The feeling was like a bolt of lightning coursing through him one second and gone the next. From the surprised grunt coming from beside him Tony knew Rogers had felt it too. If it hadn't been for that sound Tony would have ignored the feeling. It was that grunt that caused Tony's heart to stop beating and his blood to run cold. That grunt meant the one thing he never thought would happen. The one thing he never thought could happen.

The klaxons managed to blare their way into his head just as the Hellicarrier lurched again, nearly throwing Tony off balance and probably would have if not for Rogers' steadying hand. Tony ignored that, not feeling up to dealing with the captain's gentlemanly-ness after these most recent events. Instead, he told Rogers he'd meet him at Engine Three and left the super soldier to retrieve his shield or whatever. That sudden shock from earlier would just have to wait to be processed until after their current crisis was over.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tony stared at himself in the mirror and groaned. He looked pretty bad, but he supposed that was par for the course for people who nearly died in outer space after carrying a nuke through an alien portal and saving all of Manhattan, probably even the world. So maybe he should cut himself some slack, or at least use it as an excuse for his stupid, stupid behavior after the battle.

Why did he have to invite all of them back to his place?

Sure, the Tower was relatively unscathed if you ignored the war zone that used to be the upper floors, including his penthouse. The lower floors seemed alright, though, and he thought the team could use a place to rest after watching them at the shawarma place. They looked terrible, all half-dead and zombified. Even the good captain looked like he could happily lie down and sleep for another seventy years. So, naturally, he let his mouth take over for a few seconds and ended up offering them all a place to bunk. Not that he expected them to accept. Some genius.

Now Tony was hiding out in his workshop and examining himself in the mirror of the small bathroom he had installed down there for when he just couldn't be bothered to leave and mingle with other human beings. There was a futon in the small area designated for basic necessities for the same reason. It was never what anyone would call comfortable, but it was better than waking up slumped over one of the workbenches with paper stuck to his face. The futon was also exceptionally inviting after the day he'd had, but sleep would have to wait for a few more minutes.

Tony took a deep breath and slowly lifted his shirt, turning slightly so he could get a better look at his right side. There, just above the waistband of his pants a black mark stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin. It looked to be a sideways teardrop with swirling tendrils Tony swore were meant to be stylized streams of wind surrounding it. Inside the teardrop was a tiny circle radiating six small lines that reminded him a little of the arc reactor.

It was the symbol of the one thing Tony thought would never happen to him. He had spent all his life searching for the person who would make his mark appear and he never found them. A few years after his parents died Tony had begun to think his mother had made the entire story up to make him feel better. On the days when he was swimming in alcohol Tony had managed to convince himself it was all a lie. Eventually, those dark thoughts finally sank in and Tony had given up on ever finding his soul mate, but somewhere deep inside the thought that there was someone out there looking for him gave him comfort on his worst days.

But Steve! His soul mate wasn't supposed to be Steve no matter how much Tony might have wanted him to be when Tony was a child. It could never work between them now that Tony had grown up and become the arrogant, self-centered playboy that he was now. Steve was too good for him, much too good. Tony could only ruin America's Golden Hero. He would have to hide the truth then, bury it so deep not even he would be able to find it again. That was the only way to protect Steve... and himself.

Tony groaned again, dropping the edge of his shirt and allowing it to fall back down to conceal his latest mark. He got them all the time now that he was a superhero so one more wasn't worth mentioning, except this one was definitely more than a simple scar. Deciding to worry about the deeper implications and his plans for hiding them after he had had some sleep, Tony flopped down on his futon and closed his eyes. Sleep would be a long time coming, but he was much too exhausted to do anything else. It could all wait until tomorrow.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Steve stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the guest suite Stark had lent him. He was shirtless and curiously examining the strange mark on the left side of his chest. It rested right above his heart and was small enough not to be intrusive if it hadn't been the color of midnight. The main part of the design appeared to be a raindrop turned on its side. Inside the rounded part of the raindrop was a tiny five-pointed star encased by an equally small circle that reminded him of his shield. Eight little bolts of lightning radiated out from the main design, reaching backward and making it look like the raindrop was shooting toward an enemy.

This mark was too deliberate to have been a result of the recent battle. It looked like a tattoo, but that couldn't be possible. Steve would have remembered sitting for one, which he hadn't. Besides, even if he had, the tattoo would have worn away by now thanks to the serum. It hadn't been there before the events leading up to the Chitauri invasion, which was the last time Steve had had the chance to look at himself in the mirror. So, it was something that had to have appeared sometime between his first arrival on the Hellicarrier and receiving the invitation to stay at Stark's nearly destroyed Tower.

That was where Steve was now, occupying a borrowed suite in one of the upper floors given to him by Stark with the express invitation to stay as long as he wanted. He had also assured the team that, despite the extensive damage to the upper levels, the Tower was structurally sound. It wouldn't collapse on them any time soon. At least, that was what Stark claimed. Steve had his doubts, but he also remembered working with Howard and how proud he was of his own projects. If there was one thing Steve learned during the war, it was if a Stark said something was fine, it was fine. And vice versa. Steve dreaded the day when he heard the words “that can't be good” come out of Stark's mouth. That would be a signal to run if ever there was one.

Speaking of which, Stark's vast wealth of knowledge appeared to surpass even his father's. It was hard to imagine something the man didn't know. Maybe Steve could ask him about his mark. Stark had mentioned something about just asking if he needed anything while he was here. Steve thought this would be the perfect opportunity to take Stark up on that offer.

Deciding asking Stark was his best option, Steve threw on a shirt laid out for him and left to hunt down the Tower's owner.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tony was sleeping peacefully on his futon in the workshop when a particularly loud alarm rudely awakened him from his slumber, toppling Tony to the floor in a disgruntled heap.

“Captain Rogers to see you, sir,” JARVIS announced neutrally. Tony wasn't convinced by the innocent act and strongly suspected his AI enjoyed Tony's involuntary theatrics.

“What does he want, J?” Tony asked instead, irritably raking his fingers through his hair in an effort to tame the sleep-tousled strands.

“The captain didn't say, sir. Shall I tell him to come back later?”

“No, no, better not do that,” Tony groused. “Let him in.”

“Of course, sir.”

The door to the workshop slid open silently, admitting Rogers before closing behind him. Tony was still stumbling out into the main room, rubbing his eyes and yawning, careful not to stretch and inadvertently reveal his new decoration. He was grateful he had had the foresight to go to sleep fully clothed earlier. His own mark would have been difficult to explain away if Rogers saw it, not to mention highly embarrassing. Rogers just watched him curiously though, not a trace of suspicion anywhere on his face. He was probably surprised that Tony could act so mundanely human.

“What can I do for ya, Cap?”

“You said to ask if I needed anything,” Rogers said.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Need more towels or something?” He snarked.

“No,” Rogers frowned, scratching the back of his neck. “This was probably a bad idea.”

“You might as well come out with it,” Tony said, spreading his arms wide. “You're here now. No need to waste the trip.”

Rogers seemed to debate the pros and cons with himself for a minute before shrugging and pulling his shirt over his head. It hung limply from a relaxed fist as Rogers stood tall. He had a determined look on his face that suggested he was refusing to blush in embarrassment even as he stood half naked in front of Tony. Tony who was glad he had learned to control some of his more inconvenient natural reactions for the public when he was younger because he certainly felt like flushing with desire at the sight before him.

“I was wondering if you knew what this was,” Rogers asked, gesturing to his chest.

Tony's brow crinkled in confusion as he tried to sort out what Rogers was asking. His first thought was, “of course I know what that is. It's your chest and it's very distracting.” Fortunately, he didn't actually blurt that out. Talk about embarrassing.

It took several seconds, but Tony finally managed to focus on the inky black mark emblazoned on the left side of Rogers' chest. Tony took a step nearer for a better look, curious despite himself to see what it looked like and how it compared to his own.

“I've never seen anything like it,” Tony said, deliberately clenching his hands behind his back to keep from touching the mark. “Weird choice of tattoo, Cap. No offense, but I never pegged you as the type to get a tattoo. Wait, no, I could see you with one of those vintage pin-up girls. You know, the kind pilots used to have painted on their planes in World War II.”

“It's not a tattoo,” Rogers said, sighing audibly. “It just appeared there suddenly. I don't know what it is. You don't have any ideas? None at all?”

“ Huh... Well contrary to popular belief, Cap, I do not have a database filled with all the world's knowledge in my head. That would be JARVIS.”

Tony, pretending to lose interest in Rogers' mark, forced himself to turn away and wander casually toward his workbench. He hoped Rogers would get the hint and leave now that the conversation was over. Most people had learned that when Tony's attention began to wander to other subjects he was next to useless on the original topic. Rogers, it seemed, didn't get the hint, or simply refused to acknowledge it.

“Can you ask Jarvis to look then?” He persisted, tugging his shirt back on and following a few paces behind Tony. “Who is Jarvis anyway?”

“JARVIS is my AI,” Tony answered absently. He had a random bit of tech in his hand he was fiddling idly with so he could ignore the super soldier more easily. Rogers was definitely putting up an impressive fight for his attention, though. “And you can ask him yourself. Just start talking and he'll hear you.”

“Really?”

Rogers' voice was filled with such wonder that Tony had to glance up to see the look on his face. He was staring around him with such amazement in his eyes that Tony had to quickly look away before Rogers could see his own hopelessly infatuated expression. That would be something else too hard to explain.

“Sure,” Tony said when he had managed to wrestle his voice back under control. “Say hi to the good captain, J.”

“Greetings, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS replied immediately, his voice sounding from the walls. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Rogers said, instinctively looking toward the ceiling as he spoke. The corner of Tony's mouth twitched upward in a darting smile too quick to suppress. Fortunately, Steve missed it. “Were you the one I talked to in the hallway just now?”

“Indeed I was.”

“Oh. Um... Can you help me with this mark?”

“Certainly, Captain,” JARVIS replied amiably, or as amiably as an extremely advanced computer program could get. “I will start reviewing similar markings that appear in my databases and on the Internet. Shall I send my findings to your computer?”

Rogers' brow crinkled in confusion again. Tony wished he didn't find that attractive. “Um... My computer? What computer?”

“It's that shiny spot on the table in your bedroom,” Tony offered helpfully, tossing the bit of tech from one hand to the other. “And the table in your sitting room. And the counter in your kitchen.”

“You gave me three computers?” Rogers sounded aghast. “How on earth am I going to use three computers?”

“Computer is a bit of a casual term for it,” Tony said, shrugging. “Technically, they're terminals, places where you can access the system I set aside for the Avengers.”

Rogers seemed mollified by this. “So, I don't have three computers?”

“No. Just one giant system all the Avengers share. You do have a private account, though, so you don't have to worry about the others seeing your stuff or accidentally deleting it or whatever.”

“How do I access this computer, then?”

“Just type in your name for the user and your team designation for the password. After you've logged in for the first time, I would highly recommend changing the password to something of your choosing that only you would know so you don't have to worry about someone sneaking onto your account. That's standard computer safety, really. JARVIS can help you with that and any other 21st century technology operating questions you might have.”

“Oh, um... Thanks. I guess I'll be going then,” Rogers said, turning to leave.

“Anytime, Cap. See you around.”

As soon as the door slid closed behind the super soldier Tony looked at the nearest camera in the workshop. His expression was stern, though he didn't expect that to have much effect on his AI.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Make sure he doesn't find anything about Soul Mates and their marks and especially make sure he doesn't find anything that might lead him to believe his Soul Mate is me,” Tony ordered.

“If you are quite certain, sir,” JARVIS said, sounding just a little disapproving.

“I am.”

“Of course, sir.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

A month later and the Avengers were still residing in Stark's tower. Even Thor, who divided his time between New York and New Mexico. Stark hadn't kicked them out, so Steve figured their host was okay with their continued presence. Speaking of Stark, he had gone back to California recently, presumably to spend some time with his girlfriend. Steve had heard he'd been neglecting her of late. Not surprising really, when New York almost gets taken over by aliens led by the Norse god of mischief.

At least Stark finally got the chance to take a break and fly off to California. The past month had been busy, filled with every slightly ambitious supervillain who thought he – or she, Steve would never forget that one woman who not only refused to dress properly, honestly, he felt he had to avert his gaze the entire time because there was so much showing, but was also definitely the most villainous of all of them – could take on Earth's mightiest heroes. Steve almost wished Stark hadn't taunted Loki with that line. Somehow, the word had got out and he thought the various supervillains of the world were taking it as a direct challenge. And when the supervillains weren't attacking SHIELD had Steve going on covert missions.

Things had only just recently slowed down enough for Steve to find some free time to do any research on his strange mark, which hadn't faded in the slightest since he got it. Nothing was coming up though and he was starting to get a little frustrated.

The first obstacle had been learning how to find information on his computer. JARVIS had been immensely helpful in that regard, walking Steve through turning on his computer and logging in then explaining about the Internet. All the world's information in one place boggled the mind. Of course, he quickly found out that not everything on the Internet was accurate. There was one memorable result that suggested aliens drew the marks on people when they slept with some kind of super permanent marker only the aliens had developed. Steve knew this wasn't true because he'd been awake the entire time between knowing there was nothing there to seeing the mark after the battle. It did help when JARVIS told him he shouldn't phrase his search request into an actual question. There was a long explanation that followed involving “keywords” that Steve didn't really care about past “pick the most important words in the question and type those in instead.”

That didn't turn up much either. “Strange marks” just got him a lot of pictures of odd scars and dots, a cow whose fur on its face formed the number seven, and a cat whose fur looked like another cat laying down on it. “Magic marks” got him pictures of wands, six-pointed stars, something called magic markers, and what looked to be an unrolled parchment with random letters next to subjects like “Charms” and “Transfiguration” under the heading “O.W.L.s.” Steve had no idea what that was except that it wasn't what he was looking for.

The week passed in this fashion with Steve slowly nearing the pull-his-hair-out-and-scream stage of frustration when Stark returned. Steve happened to be wandering by the kitchen when he saw the man pouring himself a cup of coffee. Curious, he stopped in and struck up a conversation, determined to be at least civil with Stark if not friendly. He was living in Stark's tower for free after all.

“Back already?” Steve asked, trying to keep his voice light. It must have worked because Stark only tensed up for a second before he turned around with a smirk and raised eyebrows.

“Need some more time to sneak the guests from your wild party downstairs before daddy sees them and grounds you?” Stark joked. Steve didn't really get it, but he let it pass with a shrug anyway.

“No. Just thought you planned to be gone a little longer, that's all.”

Stark gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Pepper got busy with work and I had some things to finish on the armor anyway so I decided to come back early. The mark forty-two is almost done.”

“Forty-two?” Steve repeated, a little astonished. That was quite a large number. Maybe large enough to be an obsession? Then again, an eccentric genius like Stark could surely build more than that if he was obsessed, right? “I thought there were more than that. You've been down in your workshop everyday since Loki.”

“Don't remind me,” Stark cringed, flapping his free hand at Steve. “Besides, it takes longer to build one of those than you'd think, especially when all the supervillains of New York keep breaking my old ones.” Then again, maybe he was obsessed. “Do you know how many repairs I've had to make recently? Way too many. I think I fixed that problem with the mark forty-two, though. It's much more durable and can take a hell of a lot more punishment. If I stuck a cannon on my head I'd be a walking tank.”

Steve's eyes widened involuntarily at the mental image. “You're not going to do that, are you?”

“What?” Stark said, focusing back on Steve and seeing the expression on his face. “Oh! No, definitely not.”

Steve couldn't help but sigh in relief at that. There was no way he was running out to meet the bad guys when his teammate flew around wearing a cannon on his head. Their enemies would probably laugh themselves to death when they saw him. On the other hand, maybe Steve should tell Stark to try it. He couldn't complain if it made their job easier.

“So, did you ever find out anything about that mark?” Stark was asking. Steve wrenched his attention back to the present.

“Uh... No. Nothing yet.”

Stark frowned. “Hmm... That is strange. Well, keep looking. You're bound to find something eventually.”

“Thanks?” Steve said to Stark's retreating back as he left the kitchen to once again sequester himself in his workshop.

Later that afternoon Steve happened to catch part of the news as he wandered past the common area. Natasha sat on the couch staring intently at the television as if it had personally offended her. The ruins of half a very expensive-looking house sat crumbling on a small cliff. Horrified and curious all at once, Steve stepped inside to get a better look when the image vanished only to be replaced with the news anchors.

“Whose house was that? Was anyone hurt?” Steve asked Natasha. She gave him an odd look.

“It's Stark's house,” she said. Steve thought back to his encounter with Stark mere hours ago and couldn't recall any obvious injuries. “He wasn't there. Looks like he left just in time. It only happened a few hours ago, probably while he was on the plane. No one was hurt, but that luck won't continue to hold out for much longer. Whoever did this is determined to get at Stark.”

“We should alert the rest of the team and be on the lookout,” Steve said, instantly slipping into the roles of Captain America and team leader. Natasha merely nodded.

“I'll tell the others. You should probably talk to Stark, though. I have a feeling he's more likely to listen to you.”

She was out the door and down the hall before Steve could ask what she meant by that.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tony had just finished watching the news report JARVIS had pulled up for him about his blown up house when the AI alerted him to an urgent call coming in from Pepper.

“Tell her I've seen the news and know all about it, J. I'm busy,” Tony said. He didn't much feel like talking to Pepper right now.

“Pardon me, Sir, but Ms. Potts is insisting you speak with her. Shall I put her on speaker phone?”

Tony sighed. Apparently Pepper felt like talking to him. “Fine.”

“Tony? Tony, are you alright?” Pepper's voice echoed from the ceiling.

“I'm fine, Pep. I wasn't even there at the time. You know that.”

“But he blew up your house!”

“I noticed. There's a huge, gaping hole in the side of it now. That's gonna be a pain to repair.”

“Tony!”

He sighed again. “It's fine, Pep. Nothing to worry about. It's not even your concern anymore. Remember?”

There was silence on the other line. Tony really hoped Pepper wasn't trying to hold back tears. He felt bad enough saying it already. After an agonizing moment, she spoke again.

“Tony, that's not fair.”

“I can't do this right now, Pep.”

“No, Tony, wait!”

“End the call, J,” Tony ordered. The ominous click of the line being hung up rang through the silence. He would be paying for that later.

All Tony wanted to do was sit there with his head in his hands, but yet another person wanted to talk to him.

“I see you know. Why didn't you tell us?”

Tony swiveled on his stool to see Rogers standing in the doorway. “J?”

“Captain Rogers wishes to speak with you, Sir,” JARVIS replied promptly.

“I can see that. Why didn't you tell me earlier?”

“You were conducting another conversation, Sir. I thought it rude to interrupt.”

“I'm donating you to a community college next chance I get,” Tony declared, pointing an accusing finger at the nearest camera.

“I shall set a reminder for you, Sir. Would you prefer this state or another?”

Tony ignored the question, turning to face Rogers' stern expression.

“Well?” Rogers prompted.

“I just saw the news broadcast. I didn't know before that.”

Rogers seemed satisfied with his answer and Tony thought he was going to go and leave him in peace finally. Unfortunately, he was wrong. So very wrong. Rogers was just getting started.

“Who's 'he?'”

“He?”

“Ms. Potts said 'he blew up your house,'” Rogers explained. “Who's 'he?'”

Tony briefly considered telling Rogers to shove it and leave him alone, but the stubborn set to the other man's jaw told him Rogers wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

“The Mandarin,” he said shortly. “The asshole blew up my bodyguard so I threw down my gauntlet... figuratively, I mean.”

“He blew up your bodyguard?!”

The horrified look on Rogers' face was priceless. It almost made Tony laugh, but he sensed that probably would lead to a disapproving look, which would make it harder to kick Rogers back out of his workshop, so he resisted the urge. Better to reassure the good captain and send him on his way.

“Happy'll be fine. The doctors at the hospital said he was lucky he hadn't been standing any closer,” Tony said, turning his back to the super soldier. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do.”

“One more thing,” Rogers said. Tony nearly threw his screwdriver at him. “I came down here to tell you that the team is on alert.”

“Wait! What?!” Tony shouted, swiveling back around. Rogers was almost to the door. “You can't do that!”

Rogers paused. “It's too late. Natasha's already sent out the word.”

“Then unsend it! Take them off alert. Whatever you have to do,” Tony yelled, leaning forward far enough he had to drop a foot to the floor to keep from falling off the stool.

“No.” Tony stared, open-mouthed and blinked stupidly at Rogers as that single word said in Captain America's voice echoed with determined finality around the room. “You don't have a say in this matter. Consider yourself on alert too. I expect any potential Mandarin activity to be reported to the team as a whole. You will also attend the briefing with the team in the morning. We need to know everything about this Mandarin character.”

And then Rogers strode confidently out of Tony's workshop without even waiting for a response.

~*~*~*~*~*~

They sat around a very nice conference table – Natasha said it was mahogany – waiting for the last member of their team to grace them with his presence. Even Bruce had made it on time and everyone knew he was equally as notorious about losing track of time when down in his lab as Stark was. Stark, however, was the reigning king of avoidance. If there was something he didn't want to do then he didn't do it, no matter what, and there would be no convincing him otherwise. Steve was just wondering if he should go down to Stark's workshop and physically drag him out kicking and screaming when the man himself sauntered in casual as could be.

“Alright, kiddies. Daddy's here now. Let's get started,” he said as he took a seat in the nearest chair, leaning back and putting his feet up on the table. Stark played with a small, clear rectangle, flipping it around and around without seeming to notice what he was doing.

“You're late, Stark,” Steve accused.

“I prefer to think of it as everyone else being early,” Stark quipped. “Do you want the information I have or not?”

Steve sighed. “Alright. Let's get started. This particular briefing is about the recent string of attacks by someone called the Mandarin. I have already spoken to Director Fury and he agrees that this is under our purview. The Mandarin is now our top priority. Mr. Stark has more information.”

Stark let his feet fall to the floor and leaned forward, sliding his rectangle across the table so it stopped almost in the center. An explosion of light and color burst from it to hover in the air. Steve tried to stare in awe while not making it obvious to everyone present. By the smirk on Stark's face and the knowing look on Natasha's, he failed. A middle-aged man with dark hair floated just above the table's surface. His head was shaved, but the length of his beard more than made up for the lack. Dark, angry eyes glared out at them.

“That is the Mandarin,” Stark began. “His stated goal is pretty much the same as every other supervillain. He doesn't like us so he's going to destroy us. Talk about having a chip on your shoulder.”

“You wanna get on with it, Stark?” Natasha said pointedly.

“So impatient. That's not a good quality in a superspy,” Stark quipped. He hurriedly continued with his briefing when Natasha glared at him though. “Yeah, so basically, this guy's blowing up stuff now because he thinks it's fun. None of the targets have been high-profile until recently. When one of his bombs injured one of my employees I threw down the gauntlet, so to speak, and he retaliated by blowing up my house. That's it.”

“Do we know where the Mandarin is?” Steve asked.

“No clue.”

“Then how do we find him?” Clint chimed in.

“Could SHIELD help us?” Bruce asked. “This is right up their alley, right?”

“Oh Brucey of little faith,” Stark said. “Did you really think I didn't have a plan for that?”

“When did you plan on telling us, Stark?” Clint demanded. Stark turned a huge grin on him.

“You only had to ask, sugarplum.”

Natasha glared again. “Stark.”

“Alright, alright! I'm working on an algorithm based on data I've already gathered about previous explosions in an effort to predict where the next one will be,” Stark explained. “It should only take a few more days for me to perfect it and then we can go Mandarin hunting.”

“What I'm hearing is that everything is well in hand,” Steve broke in. Stark gave him a wink.

“Never doubt a super soldier's senses,” Stark said. Steve took that as a confirmation.

“Excellent. Once Stark has got his algorithm perfected we go out after the Mandarin,” Steve ordered. “Until then, everyone is to remain on alert. Dismissed.”

Everyone stood to leave, filing out quickly. Stark, quite to his frustration, had been outmaneuvered and was stuck at the back of the line. He'd just made it to the door when Steve cornered him.

“I want to help.”

Stark looked at him as if he'd spontaneously grown another head. “What?”

“I want to help you with your algorithm,” Steve repeated.

“Yeah, sorry, Cap. It's not really something you can help with. Didn't you have a project of your own? You should probably keep working on figuring out that mark. Catch ya later!” Stark said and slipped out the door before Steve could catch him.

There had been nothing, no clue or lead which he could follow, on the mysterious mark front. Tired and frustrated with the lack of progress and with nothing better to do, Steve headed down to the gym to hopefully work out some of that frustration.

Steve wandered into the gym and stopped when he saw it wasn't as deserted as he'd assumed it would be. Clint stood there examining his arrows and stringing his bow, no doubt preparing to take to the range. Amazing as it was that Stark had built not only a range but also full service gym into the Avengers areas of the tower – somehow they'd apparently all moved in and were settling in for the long haul – he had yet to improve the range to the point where it provided a challenge for Hawkeye. Steve assumed he was working on it because Stark didn't seem the type of guy to allow anyone to best him and Clint beating his range was akin to Clint beating Stark and there was no way the genius would let that stand.

“Hey,” Steve greeted his teammate. Clint looked up and returned the greeting. “Feel like a moving target today?”

Clint arched one eyebrow at him, considering. “You offering?”

“I could use the practice,” Steve replied easily.

“Sounds good to me. Just don't get hit. I'm not taking the blame if you get yourself killed.”

Steve chuckled. “Duly noted. Ready?”

“When you are.”

They sprang into motion at nearly the same time. Clint nocked an arrow and released it, sending it whizzing toward Steve's head, but he ducked under it and sprinted off at a ninety degree angle from the arrow's trajectory. During their match, Steve learned Hawkeye hadn't got his name for nothing. Everywhere he moved Clint was there with an arrow placed perfectly to catch him. If he'd been anyone else Steve probably wouldn't have been able to dodge them, not that there hadn't been some very close calls. Too close for his liking at times. Steve found himself wishing he'd made the detour to his room to pick up his shield. Having the option to block some of the incoming arrows with it would have made him more comfortable, but his body and reflexes hadn't failed him yet.

As Steve danced around the room, rebounding off walls and ducking behind other pieces of equipment, Clint was moving as well. Steve had never thought of Hawkeye as a mobile opponent, usually stationed in a high perch where he could see everything, call out enemy movements and weaknesses, and take them out from a distance before they knew what hit them. It was quite different seeing him running around the gym, similarly using gym equipment as cover to fire from. He even sprang on top of some of them to get the higher ground. Finally, though, Clint began to tire. Steve would have been fine to continue for another hour easy, but Clint threw in the towel – he literally threw a towel at Steve to call it quits – chest heaving and shirt damp with sweat. Steve didn't know how long they'd been at it, but it must have been quite a while.

“Thanks, man. That was fun,” Clint said, bending over to retrieve the towel he'd thrown.

“No problem,” Steve replied. His gaze followed the movement instinctively. Clint's shirt had ridden up in the back, revealing a very similar mark to the one Steve still spent time staring at in the mirror every day. He only caught a glimpse of dark lines, but he was positive it was the same kind of mark he carried. “Clint, what's that?”

Clint frowned. “What's what?” He asked, looking around curiously.

“The mark on your back. What is it?”

Clint flushed and determinedly avoided looking at Steve. “Oh, that, um, it's not something people usually talk about.”

“Why not?”

“Because it's personal, special,” Clint explained. “Usually everyone just knows what it is and no one has to ask. Didn't you ever hear stories about them?”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “I have no idea what they are and can't find any information about them. JARVIS is even helping me, but I've gotten nowhere.”

“Really?” Clint frowned. “That's weird. Anyway, why are you asking?”

“I have one,” Steve admitted after a moment, suddenly growing very interested in the floor. “It just appeared one day for no reason I can think of.”

“Oh, there's a reason,” Clint said cryptically. “You've met your soul mate. Good luck figuring out who it is. Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go.”

Clint high-tailed it out of the room before Steve could respond. People seemed to be doing that a lot today, but this latest revelation about his mark neatly shoved thoughts of slippery roommates right out of his head.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Good. It looked like Tony had managed to escape back to his workshop without being waylaid again or getting caught by Captain America. Tony tried not to be surprised, having fully expected to get chased down the hallways and arriving at his workshop door just one second after Rogers got there and blocked the entrance to his safe haven. None of that happened and now was not the time to question it. Rogers usually seemed so stubborn, but, judging by his attempt to “help” Tony, his own search was not going so well. Hopefully it would keep him distracted long enough for Tony to get through this whole Mandarin thing..

...which it appeared to be doing a day later when Tony was glaring at the numbers hovering in the air in front of him. They just refused to coalesce into anything meaningful no matter what he did. None of it made any sense, let alone gave him the ability to predict the Mandarin's next target. Why did the guy have to choose such random targets? Was there even any rhyme or reason behind the incidents? Tony groaned and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Save everything, J. I need more coffee,” he said, getting up to leave.

“Of course, sir.”

The next few days ran in a similar vein except Tony was growing less and less patient as the hours passed with no result. Well, he wouldn't say no result. After all, failure is still a result, just a negative one. Tony refused to let that stand and continued to work furiously without rest or sustenance other than coffee. The workshop was a mess, mostly from his temper tantrums when the latest thing he tried failed just like all his previous attempts, but also from fits of genius as he thought of another brilliant idea. Finally, someone decided to see if he was still alive on the fourth day of his sequestration.

“Stark? Are you alright in here?” Rogers asked. Tony could only imagine what he thought of the state of the room and it's occupant, except that would require caring about what Rogers thought and Tony didn't feel like caring about that right now. “Judging by the mess, I'm gonna go with no.”

Okay, that hurt. Maybe Tony cared a little, but he had more important things to worry about right now.

“I found him,” Tony said. “I found the Mandarin.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Steve ordered Stark to bed as soon as he explained how his program worked and, when Steve's eyes began glazing over, promised that it would work and JARVIS could run it without human input. Stark went reluctantly and only because Steve threatened to have him pulled off the mission if he didn't. An incensed Stark began arguing immediately after the words left Steve's mouth.

“You can't bench me! The Mandarin is mine! He blew up MY house, injured MY employee, accepted MY challenge. None of you would be anywhere near this guy if it wasn't for ME,” Stark shouted and Steve instinctively rose to the bait.

“You are exhausted, Stark! I don't care how many times you assure me that JARVIS can fly that suit for you if you pass out, you are exhausted and a danger to your team. If you don't take a few hours of rest before we leave, then you'll stay here while we follow the lead.”

“You can't do that!”

“I can and I will. Go. Get some sleep,” Steve ordered. “I'll brief the team while you do. We'll leave in a few hours.”

“A few hours might be too late!”

“That's a chance we're just going to have to take. Go get some rest, Stark. You deserve a break after all that work you did. I promise we won't leave without you.”

Steve could see the muscles in Stark's jaw twitch with the force he was using to keep them clenched together, but he went up to his room with only a passing comment.

“I'm holding you to that.”

Steve only nodded as Stark disappeared into the elevator and he was left to gather the rest of the team. The briefing only took a few minutes, but he gave them a couple hours to prepare. Stark reappeared before they did, looking only slightly more rested than he had been just over two hours ago.

“Are we still going or did you guys already go and come back without me?”

“We're ready when you are,” Steve said. “Just say the word.”

“Then what are we standing around here for? Let's go.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

They took the Quinjet to the nearby countryside where a supposedly abandoned warehouse was to be the Mandarin's next target. No one could quite figure out why he would choose to blow up an empty warehouse, but it was just as likely a target as the previous ones so no one questioned it too much. Steve did make sure to add the question to his mental list to ask the Mandarin once he was apprehended.

The abandoned warehouse, when they landed, looked exactly like, well, an abandoned warehouse. The pavement of the empty parking lot and road leading to the building was spider-webbed with cracks and sprinkled with tufts of green grass poking up through the gaps. Any lines painted on it had long since faded so much as to be barely visible. Nothing was level either. Steve had the vague thought that the broken, uneven surface was a potential safety hazard to anyone not paying attention to the terrain.

While the parking lot was clearly in need of repair, the warehouse itself didn't look so bad. It was still upright and had four walls and a roof. The inside, once the team made their cautious way from the Quinjet to the building, also looked good. The concrete was cracking in places and Steve thought he saw a few plant tendrils snaking their way up the walls and concrete pillars, but the structure itself appeared to be quite sound. On first glance, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary.

“Shouldn't one of those tumbleweeds go tumbling across the building in front of us right about now?” Hawkeye asked.

“We're not in a wild west ghost town,” Black Widow said. “Stay focused.”

Hawkeye grumbled something under his breath that Steve ignored, wondering instead why Iron Man hadn't made a quip about ghost towns. A quick glance told him that Iron Man was, in fact, distracted by the lack of any evidence that the Mandarin had ever been here. Steve was confused himself and looked around again. Still nothing.

“Alright, team. Spread out and look for anything that could indicate the Mandarin or one of his lackeys were here,” Steve ordered, moving to put action to words.

The rest of the team acknowledged the order and went about their own searches. Half an hour later he called a halt.

“If the Mandarin was here, he's gone now,” Steve said.

“There's no indication he was ever here,” Black Widow added.

“Perhaps the villain has covered his tracks?” Thor suggested.

“Doubtful, big guy,” Hawkeye said. “More likely the algorithm was wrong and the Mandarin was never here to begin with.”

“Dammit!”

A sudden bang had the whole team spinning around to find the source of the sounds. Iron Man's fist was planted in a nearby wall, denting the metal. As Steve and the others watched he turned and left the building. The team chased after him, Steve calling out for him to stop, but Stark had already taken off and was flying away.

“Shall I chase after the Man of Iron, Captain?” Thor asked, raising his hammer.

“No. Everyone, back on the Quinjet. We'll meet him back at the Tower. I'm sure that's where he's going. Maybe he'll cool off by the time we catch up to him.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tony sequestered himself in his workshop as soon as he reached the tower, avoiding the landing pad entirely in favor of flying directly to his ultimate destination. Knowing his luck, Captain Stubborn-Is-My-Middle-Name would find a way to waylay him before he reached his workshop if he paused to let the mechanical arms de-armor him. Fortunately, Tony had had the foresight to install a smaller set of robot arms in his workshop as well as on the landing pad for the purpose of disassembling and storing the armor when he's in a hurry.

“J, put the workshop on lockdown,” Tony ordered immediately upon entering the workshop, his voice jerking on the last word as he landed a little harder than he'd expected to.

“The workshop is on lockdown, sir,” JARVIS replied.

The robot arms unfolded themselves from the floor and ceiling as soon as Tony stepped within range. He indulged in a small smile before the helmet came off at JARVIS' efficiency and ability to predict what Tony needed without him having to say anything. The smile was gone before JARVIS could see it, though. No need for the AI to go getting an even bigger ego than he already had. Tony didn't like competition in that area or any other.

“Great. Pull up that algorithm for tracking the Mandarin. Bastard's one step ahead of us.”

“A great tragedy to be sure,” JARVIS quipped drily, but the algorithm materialized in the air above his usual workspace and was waiting for Tony to make his way over to it.

“Watch it, J,” Tony warned absently. He was already focusing in on the problem at hand. “There's still plenty of time to donate you to a community college.”

“Which one would you like to donate me to, sir? Would you prefer in-state or out-of-state?”

“Whichever one calls dibs first. I'm not that picky.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony ignored him after that, making subtle changes to his algorithm and studying the data from the explosions. He was just thinking that it would be easier if he knew why the Mandarin was targeting the places he targeted, but it all looked random. Just chance. Among the list of targets was a Chinese restaurant and a mall parking garage. The places weren't even near each other, explosions happening all across the country.

At some point JARVIS said something to him that Tony didn't quite hear. He told him to leave him alone and let him work, anything else could wait. There was silence for a while except for the occasional thought Tony had to voice so he could hear how it sounded. It was crazy, but hearing an idea sometimes made it easier to understand than merely thinking it. Talking to himself was just another quirk to add to his list of genius eccentricities.

Suddenly there was a loud, persistent banging coming from the other end of the workshop. Tony's brow crinkled in annoyance even as he decided to wait it out. He didn't know what it was, too busy fixing his algorithm to bother looking, but whatever it was should stop eventually. That theory was blown out of the water when the noise refused to stop and Tony simply got used to hearing it. When it finally did stop, Tony didn't realize it for several seconds. He had just started to relax when it started up again. If Tony'd had a wrench at hand he'd have thrown it.

“J! Make that racket stop!” Tony shouted over the noise.

JARVIS didn't bother to reply, opting to carry out his creator's order immediately instead. The banging ceased and Tony felt like he could think again. He hadn't even managed to refocus on the algorithm when a voice yanked his concentration away and Tony found himself spinning sharply on his stool to glare at the blond Adonis trespassing in his workshop. He firmly shoved that thought out of his head in favor of outrage at this invasion of privacy.

“How did you get in here?” Tony demanded. Rogers didn't even flinch, damn him.

“Your, um, AI let me in.”

“J? What happened to the lockdown?”

Tony turned his displeased glare to the nearest camera, making sure to keep an eye on the captain just in case he tried something daring, like throwing Tony over his shoulder and forcibly hauling him out of the workshop. On second thought, that wouldn't be too bad... if their destination was a bed. No! He couldn't think about beds and Captain America at the same time. That path led nowhere good.

“My apologies, sir. I was only trying to carry out your order to halt 'that racket,'” JARVIS replied calmly. If Tony didn't know better he'd think his AI was screwing with him.

“How does that end up with Captain Spandex in my workshop?”

“It's not spandex,” Rogers attempted to protest, but Tony ignored him.

“Well, JARVIS?”

“I'm afraid that was my fault,” Rogers interrupted, successfully this time. “That noise was me banging on your door. JARVIS let me in to get me to stop.”

Tony turned his glare back on Rogers. “And what, may I ask, did you need to get in my workshop so badly for?”

“You can't keep going like this,” Rogers said instead of answering Tony's very reasonable question. “Working for days without food or rest is going to kill you.”

“Thanks for the concern, it's duly noted. Now get out.”

“No.”

Tony had turned back to his work, but he spun back around at Rogers' refusal to leave. He stood there with feet shoulder-width apart and arms folded, his own stubborn glare firmly in place. The determination in his eyes – a surprisingly vibrant blue – told Tony that Captain America had come out to play. Rogers wasn't going anywhere any time soon. Still, he couldn't resist needling him in an effort to make him retreat and leave Tony alone.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Stark,” Rogers said. And, yeah, that was his Captain America voice. “I'm not leaving and you can't make me.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Get the suit. You're gonna need it,” Rogers challenged him.

“I don't need the suit to take you on, old man,” Tony retaliated.

“Wanna bet?”

“Oh, now you're copying me? Very mature.”

“I'm younger than you are, Stark.”

“Technically, you're more than twice my age, Capsicle.”

“Mentally or physically?”

“Are you saying I'm immature now?” Tony demanded, standing.

“I only asked a question. You're the one who said it,” Rogers replied. Tony knew he had to be fighting a smirk.

“Fine, do what you want. It's your time to waste. I just hope you won't get too bored standing around down here with nothing to occupy that freeze-dried brain of yours,” Tony acquiesced, sitting back down and turning his back to Rogers. “Don't touch anything. It might explode on you.”

Tony had to hide a self-satisfied grin when he saw Rogers yank his hand away from a completely innocuous tablet mock-up. He wondered if anyone had bothered to mention tablet computers to him, but that could wait until Tony'd won their little contest. A quick hand gesture had JARVIS playing his favorite workshop playlist and another had him turning it up to full blast. Tony couldn't hide the grin this time. Let Rogers think he'd won the first round, Tony would win the war.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Steve didn't stop at one visit. In fact, his first was only one of many. He found time to hang out in Tony's workshop every day he wasn't forcing Tony out of it. It had gotten to the point where Tony didn't know what Steve would do when he came down. Sometimes he would bring food, always Tony's favorites. More rarely he brought coffee despite Tony hinting every time that he wouldn't mind getting it more often. Steve's response was always a “you drink too much already, count yourself lucky I bring any at all.” Tony would always pout after that and ignore Steve for a couple hours until he got bored with it and began chattering away again.

Tony still couldn't wrap his head around Steve's presence in his workshop. The man wasn't obtrusive or anything, though he was a bit distracting by virtue of who he was. Steve even sometimes helped when Tony ran into a wall he couldn't think his way out of. Usually that meant he was exhausted and it was time for Steve to herd him out of the workshop and up to bed. Sometimes it meant Tony was actually hungry and hadn't realized it. Somehow, Steve had learned to read the signs when even Tony couldn't. It amazed and terrified Tony in equal measures.

On the one hand, it meant he and Steve had become something like friends – no they really were friends now. On the other hand, Tony felt himself falling harder for Steve every day. He'd caught himself staring at Steve sitting on his ratty couch drawing more times than he could count. His only consolation was that Steve hadn't noticed yet. 'Yet' being the operative word. Steve wasn't stupid. He'd pick up on it eventually and Tony was having a hard time getting himself under control. It was made even harder when Steve brought him food or coffee and Tony began associating him with the joy he derived from those simple pleasures. Sometimes Tony wondered if Steve knew exactly what he was doing and was manipulating Tony into a friendlier relationship. The more optimistic voice in his head told him not to be stupid, that Steve wasn't built to be manipulative. Yet another, cynical voice said that everyone was a manipulator. Tony couldn't decide which one to believe.

Perhaps the most amazing thing, aside from the greater progress he was making on the algorithm, was the change from Stark and Rogers to Tony and Steve. They were on a first name basis with each other now and Tony, for the life of him, couldn't remember when that had happened, but he'd narrowed it down to sometime after the discovery that Steve made a good sounding board and before admitting to having broken up with Pepper. It seemed like just yesterday Steve was coolly saying Stark and now he said Tony with a degree of affection Tony had only heard from Pepper during their failed attempt at romance, and from her only rarely. This was new and strange and Tony found himself wondering if he should do something to put some distance between him and Steve again. He never tried, though, and that flummoxed him even more.

And so Tony's days continued in the same vein, he'd work on the algorithm, maybe some other projects for a change of pace, Steve would visit and bring him goodies then sit on the couch and draw. When Tony started getting irritable Steve would somehow usher him out of the workshop and into bed to sleep. Tony thought Steve flashed one of those bashful forties grins at him and dazzled Tony into stunned compliance for the few seconds it took him to herd Tony out the door and stand as a barrier between him and it. The man was diabolical. That was the only explanation Tony had for why he kept letting Steve hang out in his workshop and overhear private phone conversations. For example, Pepper's first call after he hung up on her.

“Sir, Ms. Potts is requesting to speak with you. Shall I put her through?” JARVIS interrupted politely one day.

Tony didn't even think about Steve sitting unobtrusively on the couch in the corner, nose firmly planted in his sketchpad when he gave JARVIS the go ahead.

“Tony? How have you been?” Pepper asked, voice echoing slightly from the speakers hidden around the workshop.

“I'm fine, Pep. A little busy,” Tony said, hoping to gently nudge her into telling him what she needed. “Whaddaya got?”

“I can't just call to check up on a friend?”

Tony winced a little and he saw Steve trying hard to pretend he hadn't heard anything and was definitely not listening in. Too late to kick him out now. They'd both just have to pretend he wasn't there.

“I'm sure you could, but I don't think I've done anything lately to make you concerned about me. I've been a good boy. Just ask Steve,” Tony said. There was a quickly stifled choking sound behind him.

“Steve? You call him Steve now?” Pepper asked, disbelief dripping like honey from her voice.

“Of course I call him Steve. That's his name.”

“If you say so, Tony.”

“Don't look at me. Steve insists that's his name. Personally, I think he looks more like a Gabriel, you know, because of the blue eyes and blond hair. I'd call him Gabe, though. I'm too devilish to use such an angelic name.”

“Tony!”

Tony couldn't help the laughter that escaped at Steve's shocked embarrassment. He was just too easy to tease. Pepper was silent on the other end of the line for several long moments too.

“Tony, is Steve there?” Pepper finally asked carefully.

“Of course he is. Cap doesn't believe me when I tell him I'm a grown-up and can take care of myself so he babysits me in the workshop all day,” Tony said cheerfully. “Say hi, Cap.”

“Hello, Ms. Potts. Sorry for surprising you,” Steve said. “And I'm not always in Tony's workshop. He –”

“Exaggerates, I know,” Pepper finished. “It's not a problem, Steve. I only wish our first meeting had been in person. Now, on to business. Tony, we've received an offer from a company called Advanced Idea Mechanics, or AIM for short. They want us to help finalize development of a new product and put it into production for general consumption.”

“Tell them no,” Tony said immediately.

“Don't you want to hear what it is?”

“Not really.”

Pepper sighed. It sounded like a burst of static over the speakers. “I'm telling you anyway so you can make an informed decision. They are in the process of developing a serum meant to help heal people with catastrophic injuries like lost limbs. They're marketing it mainly toward wounded veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan. AIM's CEO has some very ambitious plans for this serum, including regrowing lost limbs.”

“Still a no, Pep,” Tony said.

“That's what I thought and I told him as much, but he continues to call me about it,” Pepper admitted. “He's called me six times today alone. It's getting to be a problem.”

Tony frowned. He could sense Steve watching him. “I don't like this. Next time he calls, direct him to me personally. I'll put a stop to it. Just make sure JARVIS has this guy's name and number.”

“Of course. Thanks, Tony. I really appreciate this,” Pepper said, the relief in her voice palpable.

“Anytime, Pep. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

There was a click and the workshop was once again silent. Tony went back to work like nothing had happened. He didn't even realize Steve hadn't gone back to his drawing until he said his name.

“Tony?”

“Yeah? What is it, Cap?” Tony said absently, still focused on his work.

“Why wouldn't you want to at least take a look at that serum thing?”

That got Tony's attention. He looked up, craning his neck to frown over his shoulder at Steve. “What?”

“I get the guy is being pushy and probably isn't the kind of person you'd want to do business with,” Steve hurried to explain. “But the idea behind the serum sounds good. Couldn't you take a look at the formula and reverse-engineer it or something?”

Tony turned to face Steve fully, a teasing grin on his face. “Captain America, advocating stealing someone's intellectual property for personal gain. I never thought I'd see the day.”

Steve flushed. “That's not what I meant!”

“I know, but that's how these AIM guys and their lawyers would see it. My lawyers could bury them in so much legal crap that they'd never see the light of day and we'd get away with it, but I'd rather not go through the mess.”

“Then why not take the offer?” Steve asked. “Couldn't you make it good enough to sell?”

“Oh, definitely. I could take the work they'd already done and make it ten times better before we manufactured it and put it on the shelves, but I don't want to.”

“Why not? It sounds like it could help a lot of people.”

“I'm sure it could, if it worked,” Tony said darkly.

“What do you mean?”

Tony took a deep breath and explained. “I've never heard of this AIM before, which means they must be a fairly new or low-budget company. Either way, they have no reputation to speak of, which means I have nothing to judge their business practices by or predict their future ones. They're an unknown and I don't put my name on products made by unknown companies. Not only could it turn out to be costly financially, but it could severely damage my company's reputation. Besides, I don't trust the work of other people. I haven't met a person yet who works as hard as I do to make sure the products they release to the public are as good as they can be. There's a reason why Stark products are so popular.”

“That makes sense,” Steve said after a minute. “I guess if you thought such a thing were possible you'd have done it already.”

“Well, maybe not in the form of a serum,” Tony admitted thoughtfully. “My area of expertise is in engineering and technology. I'd probably build a robotic prosthesis to replace a missing limb. That sounds like a good idea for after this Mandarin thing. J, make a note, would you?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thanks, Cap,” Tony said brightly and turned back to his work. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

“Anytime, Tony.”

Tony could sense the smile in Steve's voice and a shiver went down his spine. The only question: Was it a good feeling or a bad feeling?

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was one of those rare times when Steve was in the media room with Clint, Thor, and, surprisingly, Natasha instead of with Tony in his workshop when the genius found them. He looked a little tired, but satisfied with himself.

“Tony?” Steve said, sitting up straight and twisting his upper body to face Tony.

“I finally found him. I found the Mandarin,” Tony said, a small, proud grin on his face.

Steve leapt to his feet immediately and was already striding toward Tony in the doorway before the other had finished speaking. The other three Avengers present were getting to their feet as well, presumably waiting for Steve to issue orders. He should probably do that before he congratulated Tony on his success.

“Suit up and meet on the Quinjet in five, team,” Steve ordered. “Somebody needs to tell Bruce too.”

“JARVIS is already on it,” Tony said. Steve turned to him and gave him his most brilliant smile. Tony looked a little shocked, but smiled back. “Put on the suit?”

“Put on the suit,” Steve confirmed.

Tony flashed him a grin and took off down the hall, Steve hot on his heels. Steve bypassed the elevator Tony was already disappearing into to head back to his workshop and the armor. The adrenaline spike he always got right before a fight demanded some release or he could end up jittery and impatient, so Steve tended to take the stairs as a bit of a pre-mission warm-up. Plus, waiting around in a steel box while his body wanted, needed, to move would drive him crazy.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Avengers touched down in the parking lot of what looked to be an ancient, long abandoned factory. Steve felt a sense of deja vu looking around at the area and wondered how every old slab of pavement could look the same. Tenacious plants crept up through the spider web of cracks lining the entire surface. It was almost sad, the lack of care this place had received in recent years when Steve imagined what it must have looked like in its prime.

The building, on the other hand, was brick and still stood, fighting the weathering of time. A few bricks had fallen out and the mortar was darkened with age and crumbling, but Steve suspected there was nothing structurally wrong with the building despite its years of abandonment. The windows, some broken while others were just so covered in grime they could no longer be seen through, would need to be replaced should anyone want to legally move into the building. They would probably want new doors, because the one Steve saw looked like it was only still on its hinges through force of will alone and wouldn't stand against any halfway determined trespasser. Of course, the black and orange sign on the door that read “No Trespassing” didn't help any.

“This place looks just as abandoned as the last one,” Clint said.

Privately, Steve agreed, but he didn't want to say anything yet because he also believed that it was impossible for a Stark to be wrong twice in a row.

“He's gotta be here,” Tony protested. “I checked the numbers twice and even hacked into the traffic cameras. Someone is using this place.”

Steve could sense Clint getting ready to argue, so he cut in before the archer could say anything else. “If he's here, we'll find him. Let's check the building. Everyone keep their guard up and look for any signs of the Mandarin's presence.”

The team acknowledged the order, Clint grumbling in annoyance more than actual willing compliance, and moved as one toward the door Steve had noticed earlier. He took point, shield still at his side, but ready to be yanked into position at a second's notice. Tony kept pace with him on his right side, the Iron Man helmet turning from side to side, likely taking in every piece of data it could and feeding it directly to Tony. Steve noticed that the repulsors remained powered down at Tony's arms were at his sides, but he walked stiffly enough that Steve recognized the familiar battle tension he noticed in himself that would allow him to react quickly to any potential threat.

Natasha and Bruce walked at an angle behind Tony. Natasha had her pistols out and ready, moving with a grace Steve would forever associate with her deadly nature. There was a lot of power in her movements that not many could see. Somehow, Steve suspected it was intentional. Bruce just walked casually along at the end of the diagonal. He was alert and kept switching his attention between the other Avengers and their surroundings. Steve almost smiled when he realized Bruce was doing his best to keep tabs on them so they wouldn't be caught unaware.

On Steve's side, mirroring Tony's half of the arrow, Clint and Thor followed in their own diagonal. Clint had his bow out and an arrow nocked, pointed at the ground but ready to go if he acquired a target. Thor didn't look as if he expected any trouble and strode regally along behind Clint in a way that would have made Steve believe he was royalty if he hadn't already known it. Mjolnir hung innocently at his side, but Steve knew how quickly Thor could bring his hammer to bear on an enemy from that position. Yes, his team was ready to face whatever they found on the other side of the door.

Steve kicked the door in as soon as he reached it and they all streamed in behind him, fanning out to resume their original arrowhead formation, only to come face to face with absolutely nothing.

The inside of the building remained stubbornly empty no matter how hard Steve willed the Mandarin to appear. Huge concrete pillars rose to the ceiling, crumbling in places. Nothing of the original equipment remained except a giant hunk of rusted metal in one far corner that Steve would be hard-pressed to identify even if it had been new. Tony was already cursing quietly to himself, not seeming to notice that his mic was on and the rest of the team could hear him.

“Spread out and search for signs the Mandarin has been here or might be coming back,” Steve ordered. “There's got to be something that will tell us what's going on.”

The Avengers did as ordered, splitting up and heading off in six different directions. Steve wasn't really sure what he expected them to find since they could see pretty much everything from the door. The cavernous room didn't hide much. He was just considering calling them all back and giving this mission up as another false alarm when the unmistakeable whine of Iron Man's repulsors cut through the silence and Tony gave a shout of alarm over the comms.

Steve turned just in time to see Iron Man fire his repulsors through the door of a small room that must have once been an office and take off, using the jets in his boots to fly back several feet out of range. He was already running toward Iron Man before the other landed again, repulsors still aimed at the doorway. The rest of the Avengers also moved to back them up, taking action without having to be ordered.

“What is it, Iron Man?” Steve demanded over the comms. Iron Man's helmet twitched in his direction slightly, but he didn't take his eyes off whatever was in the other room.

“I think I found the bad guy,” Tony said.

Right on cue a tanned Caucasian man in middle age and dressed in traditional Asian clothing appeared, stepping out of the room to face them. He was bald, but had an impressively long, dark beard and cold, dark eyes. Steve recognized him immediately as the man Tony had identified as the Mandarin in that briefing long ago.

“So, you have finally found me,” he said, hands tucked into the opposite sleeves. Behind him six more men, none of whom looked Asian, appeared. They were dressed all in black and looked almost like military, except for the lack of proper uniform and the fact they all wore lower-face masks.

“Yeah, we found you. Be a good villain and just surrender,” Tony quipped.

“Did you truly find me, I wonder? Or did I allow you to find me because I wanted it?” The Mandarin said. Steve could feel his brow wanting to furrow, but refused to let it.

“What do you mean? You just said we found you!” Clint said.

“Ah, yes, you would believe that. I do remember your first failed attempt at locating me. An abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, yes?”

“So you were there,” Tony accused. “I knew it.”

“I know of your attempt,” the Mandarin corrected. “That does not mean I was present. As I have said, you only found me this time because I wanted you to. I have a message for you.”

“What is this message?” Steve demanded.

“You cannot catch me. You are ill prepared for the task. I only wished for you to know how thoroughly outmatched you were before I had my soldiers kill you,” the Mandarin said. His soldiers advanced on them immediately. “Enjoy your last few moments of life. It was such a pleasure toying with you.”

The Mandarin took off at a run for the door the Avengers had come through. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see Natasha giving chase, but one of the Mandarin's soldiers broke off and blocked her attempt. The other five chose a remaining Avenger and engaged. Steve heard the Hulk's roar as Bruce transformed and then he was too busy fighting his own opponent to pay too much attention to the rest.

The soldier attacking him stuck to basic martial arts, but he did seem a match for Steve in strength, speed, and stamina. As he fought back, just barely missing when his opponent dodged out of the way, Steve caught glimpses of the other Avengers. Black Widow, as he would expect, was holding her own. From what Steve could tell, all the soldiers seemed to be physically enhanced, but she slipped out of reach time and again, managing to catch her own enemy a glancing blow with her Widow's Bites. The Hulk was swatting at his own opponent, roaring in frustration when the guy kept jumping out of the way. Thor had already dispatched his enemy, the man lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, and was helping Hawkeye who spent a lot of time dancing out of reach and firing arrows. When he was forced in close, he used the bow as an improvised staff until he could get away.

“For the record, I hate whack-a-mole,” Iron Man said. Steve managed to get a glimpse of him hovering above his opponent, the ceiling was at least three times his own height if not higher, and firing repulsor blasts at him. The guy kept dodging and Steve could hear Tony's grunts of frustration when he missed. “Stay still, you bastard!”

“Yeah, because the bad guys always stay still when you ask,” Hawkeye said sarcastically.

“Shut up– Whoa!” Iron Man shot back, his retort turning into a shocked exclamation in the next second. “Okay, so these guys like playing with fire.”

“What?” Steve asked, but he got the chance to find out before the word had even finished leaving his mouth.

The Mandarin soldier Steve was fighting took the opportunity while he was momentarily distracted to shoot a fireball at him. Steve caught it on his shield, never more grateful for it and his super soldier reflexes than in that moment. That didn't stop the bad guy, who apparently thought that now that his secret was out he might as well go all out and kept flinging fireballs at him. Steve skipped back and forth to avoid them, but couldn't find an opening to get in close and unleash his own attacks. He could throw the shield, but he didn't like the thought of finding out how extreme heat would feel in his new body. The ice had been more than enough.

“Dammit!” Someone cursed, probably at their own opponent's switch to literal fire power.

“Thanks, Stark,” Black Widow said sarcastically. “They weren't enough of a handful before. I was looking for a challenge.”

“Happy to be of service,” Iron Man replied. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“A plan for getting rid of them would be good,” Hawkeye suggested.

“Sorry,” he grunted. Steve managed to catch a glimpse of a burn mark on the armor's midsection and assumed he hadn't quite dodged out of the way in time. “Fresh out of anti-fire guy ideas.”

“Mjolnir's lightning seems to be quite effective,” Thor put in, swinging his hammer at Hawkeye's opponent.

“Thanks,” Widow said. “That actually helps.”

“For you, maybe,” Hawkeye muttered. “The rest of us don't have lightning.”

“Not my fault.”

Black Widow's enemy fell seconds later after she managed to dart under his guard and clamber up onto his shoulders. She jabbed him in the neck with her Widow's Bites and he went down, unconscious. She rode him to the ground, racing toward where Hulk was still battling with his opponent as soon as her feet hit the concrete.

Steve had just decided he was done dodging his opponent's fire blasts and threw his shield, aiming for the wall behind the Mandarin soldier, when he heard an explosion. He caught his shield on the rebound and dodged out of the way of another fireball, turning so he could see the place where the explosion came from. Hulk was just uncurling himself from around a crouching Black Widow.

“Widow, report. What just happened?” Steve demanded, slashing at his opponent with his shield when the man made the mistake of getting just a little too close.

“I'm fine. The soldier spontaneously exploded. Hulk managed to shield me before it happened.”

“Sounds like a side effect of whatever these guys took to get their fire powers,” Iron Man said.

“Could it happen again?” Steve asked.

“Smart money's on yes.”

“Okay, team, don't let them in close and watch for signs that they might spontaneously combust,” Steve ordered. He'd always thought spontaneous human combustion was a modern joke, but these guys took it a little too seriously.

Hawkeye grumbled some more and made an adjustment on his bow. The next arrow he pulled out he fired right as Thor was swinging Mjolnir at their enemy again. As soon as it hit, blue sparks of electricity raced across the man's body. He convulsed and fell to the ground where Thor hit him in the head and he fell limp. Four down, two to go.

As soon as the fourth Mandarin soldier went down, the one still fighting with Iron Man abandoned the fight and switched to targeting Steve. Suddenly, Steve found himself unexpectedly holding off two soldiers. The newcomer shot a fireball at him that he almost missed dodging and would have taken the second if Iron Man hadn't managed to catch up to his wayward opponent and knock him off course.

“What the hell is with these guys? Why the sudden change?” Iron Man said.

“No idea, but it would be nice if they could play with someone else for a while,” Steve said.

“Gotcha, Cap,” Hawkeye said, and Steve saw an arrow go whizzing past his face. Hulk roared at the same time and came charging toward the two remaining soldiers, but neither flinched at the onslaught. Both soldiers simply dodged out of the way and came after Steve again. “Damn, these guys are determined.”

“Why?” Iron Man wondered out loud.

“Let's just concentrate on taking them out,” Steve said. The whys could wait.

Steve had just noticed the glowing orange color of the Mandarin soldiers' exposed skin, thinking it unusual, but not immediately relevant. He changed his mind when he heard Tony's breathless “oh, shit” over the comms and felt the intense heat radiating off them. The shield came up instinctively, but Steve knew the relatively small disc wouldn't be able to protect him from entire blast, especially when the soldiers were coming at him from two different angles. No matter what, the outcome wasn't going to be pretty.

A red and gold blur sped toward him at the last second, after Steve had already resigned himself to severe injuries at best, and tackled him just before the remaining two soldiers exploded. Steve came back to his senses only to feel warm metal wrapped around him. He was on his knees, curled in on himself, with the shield raised to cover his head. Leaning against his back he could feel several hundred pounds of advanced armor. Iron Man crouched behind him, having turned him around just before the blast so their backs were facing the explosion, in a mirror of Hulk's own shielding of Black Widow earlier. His arms were wrapped around Steve's waist and his helmeted head rested on Steve's shoulder. He wasn't moving.

“Iron Man? It's over. You can move now,” Steve said. Iron Man didn't move. “Iron Man? Tony?”

There was no response from the armored Avenger, but the rest of the team had no trouble shouting. Steve felt the weight of the armor slowly being lifted away and turned to see Thor holding Iron Man upright. The front of the armor looked fine and mostly undamaged save for a few scorch marks, but when Steve stood and got a glimpse of the back he nearly fell to his knees again. The metal of the armor was bent and warped, paint burned away, and jagged edges bent inward to slice into the skin beneath. The crimson liquid leaking through the cracks and tears made it look like the armor itself was bleeding. Despite all the damage, Tony didn't make a sound.

“We need to get him out of the armor!” Steve ordered, dropping his shield with a clatter and moving to search for the manual releases Tony had once mentioned he installed in all his armors in case of emergency.

Natasha had gone to fetch the first aid materials they kept on the Quinjet and returned just as Steve pulled the last piece of armor off an unconscious Tony. She handed a recently transformed Bruce a spare shirt, which he pulled on, and the first aid kit. Bruce immediately knelt next to Tony and began doing what he could.

“We need to get him to the nearest hospital quickly,” Bruce said as he began pressing thick squares of cotton against the more severe cuts.

“Clint,” Steve said.

“On it, Cap,” Clint said, sprinting back outside. The familiar whine of the Quinjet's engines flared to life a moment later.

“Natasha, keep pressure on this,” Bruce instructed. Natasha obediently pressed firmly on the already reddening cotton Bruce indicated. “Thor, Steve, you'll have to carry him out to the Quinjet. Try not to jar him too much.”

Steve and Thor both did as they were told, lifting Tony as gently as they could and the five of them walked across the building and out the door as quickly as they could without hurting their injured teammate further. Once they got outside, they managed to pick up the pace some and were fairly running across the uneven asphalt, Steve focusing on making sure he didn't trip or stumble on the cracks. Clint lifted off as soon as they were on board, not even waiting for someone to close the door behind them, and headed to the nearest hospital.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The entire team stood around Tony's hospital bed except Steve, who was granted the sole plastic visitor's chair situated the closest to the bed. Steve wasn't entirely sure how he got the spot, thinking Bruce would have been more likely to take it since he was the closest thing the Avengers had to a doctor, but he had passed it on to Steve. He accepted the chair without complaint, resisting the urge to grab Tony's hand and hold onto it. The tears, however, were not as easy to control.

No one said anything when the gathering tears in his eyes finally slid silently down his cheeks or when he broke down.

“Why did you do it, Tony?” Steve asked, not sure whether he expected an answer or not. When there was no answer forthcoming, he decided that he actually did want one. “He was protecting me. Why?” He repeated, louder this time.

“Anthony seems to care for you a great deal, Steven. I believe he wanted to keep you safe,” Thor said.

Steve ignored the obvious in that answer, thinking that you didn't protect someone you didn't want to keep safe, and moved on to the next thing on his mind.

“He was hurt because of me.”

“Don't worry, Steve,” Bruce said, a hand coming to rest gently on his shoulder. “His injuries aren't too serious. He'll be fine in a few days. He's mostly just banged up.”

“He's not awake yet. If his wounds aren't serious, why isn't he awake?”

Bruce sighed. “I'm not saying complications couldn't still arise, Steve, but his initial prognosis looks good. There's no internal bleeding or severe external trauma. He still has all his limbs and what wounds he has are much less serious than they could have been if not for his armor. None of these injuries are unusual. I am confident he'll be just fine in a few days. His body needs time to heal.”

Steve didn't reply. The assembled Avengers watched over their injured teammate for a while longer before Natasha stirred and slipped in between him and Bruce.

“I think we should step up our hunt for the Mandarin. He's injured one of our own and he will pay for it,” she said. Steve nodded.

“Take the rest of the team back to the Tower and find him. I'm staying here with Tony,” Steve ordered.

Natasha didn't even bother acknowledging the order, opting to immediately move to carry it out instead. The rest of the team followed her out the door when she left. Steve felt confident that she would find the Mandarin without his help and settled easily into holding vigil by Tony's bedside. He grabbed Tony's hand and held on tight.

Several hours later, Natasha returned. Steve had fallen asleep hunched over in the chair, head resting on the edge of Tony's bed. When Natasha entered Steve jumped, forcing his body upright and alert, fighting a blush when he realized he was still holding Tony's hand. He let go, but Natasha's raised eyebrow said she had already seen. Steve forced his embarrassment away and focused on her presence.

“Did you find him?”

Natasha shook her head. “Not yet. I'm here because you are.”

Steve's brow furrowed. “What?”

“You've been here since yesterday, Steve. Have you even eaten anything?” Steve thought about it, but couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. Natasha must have come to the same conclusion because she continued. “Go get some rest and something to eat.”

“I can't. I have to stay with Tony,” Steve said.

“I'll stay with him.”

“What about the Mandarin?”

“I'm waiting on a response from one of my contacts. I've arranged for Thor to relieve me in an hour. He also volunteered to watch over him any time you've spent the night and need a break,” she said. Steve sighed, accepting defeat.

“Alright, but I want someone to call me as soon as he wakes up if I'm not here.”

“Of course. Now, go get some sleep in an actual bed. At least four hours.”

Steve chuckled. “I will. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Just as he had asked, Thor called him when Tony finally woke up. Steve berated himself for not being the one by Tony's bedside when it happened. That didn't stop him from racing back to the hospital, he'd had his leg through over his motorcycle before he'd even hung up with Thor, and barging into Tony's room without warning.

“No, no. I can get it,” Tony was saying.

He was lying on his side at the very edge of the bed, arm stretched at an angle above and in front of him, presumably reaching for the tablet on the table next to his bed. The hospital shirt Tony wore had ridden up his back and the blankets had slid down just past his waist revealing a swath of bruise-mottled skin and something Steve had never thought he'd see on Tony of all people.

“Tony? What is that?”

There, on Tony's hip, just visible above the waistline of his pants, was a mark similar to the one Steve bore above his heart. He must know what was going on because Steve couldn't imagine Tony Stark not knowing something. And suddenly he was angry. Tony had seen his mark. Granted, it was at Steve's behest, leading to teasing about tattoos, but Tony should have said something. Why would he keep something like this secret, especially from his own teammate?

Tony groaned then, rolling over onto his back and concealing the mysterious mark from view. Steve put on his most disapproving Captain's glare and stared at the injured man until he met Steve's gaze. Tony plastered on a fake smile that did nothing to hide the pain he was in and forced himself into a sitting position. Thor took the opportunity to silently slip out into the hallway.

“What's up, Cap? I didn't think I was that badly injured,” Tony said in the most cheerful voice he could manage.

For a moment, Steve wondered if confronting Tony in the hospital while he was injured was a good idea. He dismissed the thought a second later when the anger swept back in. It must have shown on his face because Tony twitched a little before regaining control over his body. If he had been anyone else, Steve would have laughed. Instead, he merely asked his question more sternly than he had intended.

“What do the marks mean?”

Tony looked confused. “Marks? You have another one?”

He was trying to deflect, but Steve refused to fall for it. “No, but you do.”

Steve had never realized how pale a human being could get until that moment. What little color that had returned to Tony's face vanished, leaving nothing but sickly pale skin in its wake. He looked to be on Death's door, which concerned Steve. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. He should have waited until Tony had recovered some instead of cornering him while he was injured and unable to defend himself. Now Steve felt horribly and would have told Tony to forget it, but Tony spoke up before Steve could open his mouth to let him off the hook.

“I what?” Tony asked, he looked terrified, but that proved Steve was on the right track so he didn't give in. Not yet. It would be better for both of them if Steve just got this out of the way now.

“You have a mark on your hip,” Steve explained, thinking there was a small chance Tony didn't know. A second later he scoffed silently at himself. Tony knew alright. “It looks like mine.”

If possible, even more blood drained from Tony's face. Steve thought he was going to pass out again and was about to call for a doctor when Tony forced himself to talk.

“Finally noticed that, did you?” Tony choked out. Steve kept his stare focused on Tony, saying without words that he wanted an explanation. “Can we not do this now? Okay, judging by your glare, that's a 'no.' Alright, alright. I don't want to talk about this right now, but I will do this. Go back to the Tower and ask JARVIS for Project Red String. He'll know what it is. That should tell you everything you need to know. You know where to find me if you need me. It's not like I'll be going anywhere any time soon.”

Steve considered the injured man slumped against his hospital pillows for a moment, but finally decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, it was as Tony said, he wasn't going anywhere and Steve knew where to find him if he lied. Finally, Steve nodded and left, heading back to the Tower to ask Tony's AI for the answer to this mystery that had been plaguing him for months.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tony watched as Steve left, head dropping into his hands when the door shut behind him. A moment later it opened again and a different blond stepped through.

“Are you feeling unwell, Anthony? Shall I summon the nurse?” Thor asked in his not quite quiet, but quieter than usual, concerned voice.

“I screwed up, Thor,” Tony said.

“I am afraid I do not understand.”

“What would you do if Jane was mad at you? If you'd done something that made her upset, but you didn't mean to?”

Thor was silent for a moment, long enough for Tony to think that he had nothing to say on the matter. He had just resigned himself to slogging through this problem on his own and was about to ask to be alone when Thor finally spoke.

“Perhaps it is merely a misunderstanding and you should speak with the one you have angered. Surely explaining your intentions will earn the forgiveness you seek,” Thor said.

“I don't think that's gonna help, Thor,” Tony sighed and shook his head. “I had the chance to explain everything and I sent him away. I'm not good at talking to people and now he won't want to speak to me ever again.”

“How do you know until you try, Anthony?”

“I don't know. I don't know what to do. I just– Right now I need to be alone,” Tony said.

Thor bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Of course. I shall remain just outside should you have need of me.”

For the third time in as many minutes the door to his hospital room opened and closed, leaving Tony alone once again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Steve made it back to his rooms without incident, anger long since having drained out of him. He even debated going back to the hospital to make up with Tony and try to have a calm discussion about the marks, but decided that would be unwise. Tony probably wouldn't be any more willing to talk to him about it now than he had been half an hour ago. He'd just have to do as Tony suggested.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Can you tell me anything about the mark Tony has?” Steve asked.

“Certainly, Captain,” JARVIS said, but he didn't continue.

“Will you tell me more about Tony's mark?” Steve finally tried when a minute passed and JARVIS hadn't offered anymore information.

“My apologies, Captain. That is an incorrect request.”

Steve's brow furrowed. “Incorrect request? What does that mean?”

“I am not programmed to carry out that request,” JARVIS said.

“Oh, um...” Steve paused, thinking. “Can you run Project Red String?”

“I have sent the files to the computer in this room.”

“Thanks, JARVIS.”

“My pleasure, Captain. Please inform me if you need any further assistance.”

Steve took a seat on the couch, leaning over to tap the shiny spot on the table Tony had said was a computer so very long ago only to find that JARVIS already had the files displayed. He tapped on various little virtual papers and read everything he could about soul mate marks. Most of them seemed to be websites on the subject and the occasional essay or book.

From what Steve gathered, soul mate marks were not so rare that there was no knowledge on them, but not so common that everyone was walking around with one. Apparently, the marks appeared upon skin-to-skin contact with the person who could become your perfect match. Steve wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but it was pretty clear that the marks were indicators of a person's compatibility with another. That meant Tony and Steve were apparently meant to be together, assuming he understood everything correctly.

“Why wouldn't he tell me? And how did I not find anything about this when I was searching for it before?” Steve wondered out loud. “Tony clearly knew what they were, but he told me to ask JARVIS for help because he didn't want to tell me.”

Steve spoke slower at the end, thinking over everything he just said. The answer struck him like a bolt of lightning.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Did you keep me from finding any information on these soul mate marks?” Steve asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.

“I regret to inform you that I did, Captain,” JARVIS said. “Sir ordered me to make sure you found nothing on the soul mate marks.”

“Why?”

“I believe that question is best answered with a story. Shall I tell it for you, Captain?”

Steve wasn't really sure where this was going, but he played along. “Okay.”

JARVIS began immediately.

“This world is a difficult place to grow up in. So much rides on your shoulders. On everyone's shoulders. Life is hard, especially if you go through it alone. But do you know something? We have each been granted a most precious gift. In this world there is that one person who completes us, who is our complement in every way. They are out there somewhere, just waiting to be found. And when you do find them, they will be the most beautiful, precious person you ever saw. They are the other half of your soul and will stay by your side forever. But how do you find this person? How do you know who it is? You just keep your eyes open and you will find them. All it takes is a little faith and a whole lot of determination. Never give up. Keep searching and one day you will find them, your Soul Mate. No one knows exactly how you tell when you've met your Soul Mate, but when you do finally find them, you'll know.”

Steve stayed silent for a moment, taking it all in. The story had the feeling of one meant to comfort and reassure even when being told by a computer.

“JARVIS, where did this story come from?”

“It is a story sir's mother told to him quite frequently,” JARVIS said.

“So he knew what the marks meant when they appeared,” Steve said. “Why didn't he tell me, then?”

“Sir did know what the marks meant, Captain, but I believe he did not wish for you to know because he felt he was not good enough for you.”

Steve fell back against the couch at that. Tony thought he wasn't good enough for him? That was ridiculous! Tony was the most amazing person he'd ever met. Sure, he had his difficult moments where Steve could shake him until he found some sense, but he was just as brilliant. Watching him work was eye-opening. He seemed manic most of the time, full of energy and a whirlwind of movement just so he could get everything out of his head and into whatever project, or projects as was frequently the case, he was working on. When Steve appeared, he did seem to calm down some and spend half his time and attention on Steve. He liked talking to Tony and spending time with him. How could a man that brilliant think he wasn't good enough?

“This is such a mess. How do I even start to fix this?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day Steve hadn't returned and Tony was already tired of being in the hospital. He had just managed to get dressed and opened the door to sneak out only to come face to face with Natasha standing with arms crossed on the other side.

“Stark.”

“Uh, hi...,” Tony said.

“Going somewhere?”

“No, not really. Please, come in.”

Tony stepped aside to let her in and stood there holding the door as she stepped inside, debating whether he could make it down the hall and into the elevator before she caught him. Natasha must have read his mind because she gave him a look that dared him to try. Not feeling like getting his ass handed to him, Tony shut the door and took a seat on his bed.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked.

“I was just making sure you weren't getting any bright ideas, like escaping from the hospital,” Natasha said lightly. She sat casually in the only chair in the room, looking for all the world like she belonged there.

“I didn't have any plans to hop on a motorcycle and jump a barbed wire fence if that's what you're wondering,” Tony said. Natasha raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

“Good. Then you won't mind some company for a few hours.”

Tony gritted his teeth. He very much minded the company. “I'm not a child. I don't need a babysitter. Don't you have a bad guy to hunt down?”

“The team is working on it. In the meantime, I'm hanging out here. That's not a problem is it?”

“Of course not,” Tony ground out.

“I'm glad you agree,” Natasha said in a tone that suggested she was anything but glad. “Because you are in no condition to leave and to make sure you don't one of us is going to be here at all times.”

“Great. I feel a string of impromptu bonding sessions coming on,” Tony muttered. Natasha just smirked at him.

Over the course of the next couple days Tony was visited by every one of the Avengers except Steve, who never once came back to visit him since the revelation about the marks. Tony couldn't help but feel a little vindicated. He'd known Steve would hate him if he knew and he was right.

His symptoms were quickly fading and Tony was feeling well enough to take his usual routine back up, but the doctors still wanted to keep him because of the occasional bouts of dizziness and loss of balance. Tony would have left long ago, but, true to her word, Natasha had the rest of the Avengers holding him prisoner. It was Clint's turn to keep watch and also an unexpected opportunity for Tony.

An hour into Clint's shift his phone rang. He took the call on the other side of the room, presumably to keep Tony from hearing it, but he caught the words “robots” and “downtown” before Clint hung up and said he had to leave. Clint had almost made it out the door before he seemed to remember something and turned around.

“Natasha said you're to stay here and that she will castrate you if you even think about leaving. Her words, not mine. Don't shoot the messenger. See ya!”

Clint was out the door before Tony could say anything, but that was okay. Tony had an escape to make and then find a way to contact JARVIS and get him to send the armor Tony's way so he could join the fight. Robots were his specialty after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Avengers were on the scene ten minutes after Fury called them in – something about rampaging robots – and they'd only been in the field fifteen minutes when Steve saw something that nearly gave him a heart attack.

“Iron Man! What are you doing here?” Steve shouted as he watched the crimson and gold blur streak across the sky. His outburst was more from surprise and worry rather than anger, but Tony didn't seem to take it that way.

“I'm still a part of this team even if you're not talking to me, Cap,” he growled over the comm. “Just doing my job. Nothing fancy, unless you're feeling like a little sky writing today? What shall I write? 'Surrender Dorothy'? Or how about, 'Hey, supervillains! We're taking the day off. Come back tomorrow?'”

“Dammit, Tony!” Steve shouted indignantly. “You're supposed to be in the hospital!”

“Tsk, tsk, Cap,” Tony chided. “No secret identities when in the field. It's 'Iron Man,' remember? Besides, you know how much I hate hospitals.”

Steve sighed. “Fine, but watch yourself. You don't want to end up back in again already,” he said, deciding to ignore the fact that the whole world already knew that Tony Stark was Iron Man. Tony laughed bitterly.

“Didn't know you cared, Cap.”

Steve ignored him and smashed his shield into a particularly large robot harder than he had intended. The thing exploded in his face instead of simply crumpling under the force of the impact. It was lucky he was wearing his cowl or his eyebrows might have been singed off and the rest of the Avengers would never have let him live that one down. As it was, his face was covered in black ash anyway, which, judging by the snickering coming over the comm, was just as hilarious.

“You alright there, Cap?” Clint asked, a hint of laughter still in his voice.

“Yeah. It was nothing.”

“Looks like you might wanna be careful. These guys could explode in you face,” Tony chimed in, snarky and annoying as ever.

“Acknowledged, Iron Man,” Steve said through clenched teeth.

“Are you certain you are uninjured, Captain?” Thor asked. Steve was touched by his concern, but now was not the time.

“I'm fine, Thor.”

He grunted as he slammed the edge of his shield into another robot, slicing it clean in half. Another got kicked in the face, sending its head flying into a third. Steve decided to ignore the rest of the fight and concentrate on his own enemies. The team could handle themselves and he felt the need to work out a little tension. Robot bashing turned out to be therapeutic way to take out his frustrations about Tony's truly remarkable ability to throw himself in the line of fire to act as a human shield only to refuse much needed medical care afterward and the Mandarin's slippery, one-step-ahead nature.

Steve cut through the robot ranks like a man possessed. He even thought he heard someone say something about his unresolved anger issues. That wasn't even worth a response, so Steve waded further and further into the sea of robots, ignoring all attempts to get his attention. He also failed to notice the robots' increasing interest in him. Soon Steve found himself boxed in and unable to escape with his team caught on the outside, struggling to break through the robotic wall.

“Dammit, Steve!” Tony yelled over the comm. “This is why you listen when people are trying to get your attention.”

Iron Man blasted two of the obstructing robots, but three more took their place. He tried taking off and flying over the wall to get to Steve only to have several sneakier robots grab onto him, preventing him from getting too far off the ground. Tony struggled futilely, sending Thor, who had come to his aid, away to help Steve instead.

“I'll remember that for next time,” Steve countered, watching as Tony managed to free one arm enough to blast one of his captors in the torso.

“There won't be a next time,” a deep, commanding voice declared from behind Steve.

He saw Tony freeze and feared the worst. Turning around slowly inside the tight circle made by the suddenly still robots, Steve came face to face with something that looked like an even cruder version of the Iron Man Mark I, only about five times larger. And, to add to the similarity, there was a tiny, by comparison, arc reactor embedded in the chest piece.

“What is that?” Steve demanded. There were no curse words in his question, but they were strongly implied.

“It's the Iron Monger.”

Surprisingly, it wasn't Tony who answered, but Natasha, who sounded just as thrown for a loop as Steve felt.

“What?” Several voices demanded, Steve's among them. Only Natasha, Tony, and the Hulk said nothing, not even looking the least bit surprised, though Steve suspected that was more pure stubbornness on Natasha and Tony's part that an actual expectation of this newcomer's presence. In Hulk's case, Steve suspected he couldn't be bothered to notice the similarities in design and name between the newcomer and their teammate. Steve, himself, was scrambling to figure out what it all meant.

“Obi,” Tony choked out. Steve's heart broke at the small, uncertain word. He sounded so much like a broken child in that moment that Steve wanted to go to him and hug Tony close. “Why did you come back?”

“Why, I came back for you, Tony,” the armored newcomer said. The words were innocent enough, but something about the tone raised the tiny hairs on the back of Steve's neck. So, while Tony was occupied with trying not to fly into an emotional turmoil, Steve got Natasha's attention.

“Black Widow,” Steve hissed over the comm, trying to keep the guy in the Iron Monger from noticing what he was doing. Fortunately, he seemed much more interested in a shocked senseless Tony. “Who is this guy? What do you know?”

“Yeah, Widow, fess up,” Clint echoed from his perch on a nearby building.

“Obadiah Stane built the Iron Monger after Stark's return from Afghanistan where he had arranged to have Stark kidnapped by the Ten Rings. Stane had been selling Stark's weapons to terrorists without Stark's knowledge so, when Stark found out, he confronted Stane. I don't really know everything that happened during that time, but I do know that they fought on top of the Stark Industries building in their respective armors and that Stark had Pepper Potts overload the original arc reactor in the lobby of the building in order to defeat Stane. Stane was presumed dead and, as his cover, Iron Man was going to be Stark's bodyguard until Stark decided to out himself.”

“He betrayed the Man of Iron?” Thor roared. Steve was a little shocked about it himself. “Why do we not crush the foul mortal into the dust?”

“He did more than that, Big Guy,” Tony chimed in. He looked and sounded subdued and Steve's heart ached to see the usually cheerful, energetic man brought so low. “He tried to kill me himself when the Ten Rings failed. Isn't that right, Obi?”

“You're not still upset about that, are you, Tony?” Stane asked, all fake friendliness. “It was nothing personal.”

“You ripped the arc reactor out of my chest so you could take over my company.”

There was a collective gasp from all assembled Avengers who weren't currently green and happily bashing sub-par robots. Steve could feel his heart constrict and race with retroactive fear for the life of his friend and teammate. It was an irrational reaction. Obviously, Tony was fine. He was here and alive. Tony had survived. And then it hit him. Tony was a survivor. He did what he had to do to survive, not to be difficult or cruel. Tony was just trying to protect himself, not cause problems for Steve. He had treated Tony so unfairly before and now Steve was dealing with the consequences. Tony was in trouble because Steve had acted stupidly, but Steve would be damned if he let Tony pay for it.

“What do you want, Stane?” Steve demanded in his most commanding Captain America voice.

“Cap! What are you doing?” Tony hissed over the comm. “This guy is seriously bad news. Just let me handle it.”

“Not this time, Iron Man,” Steve replied just as quietly while Stane laughed maniacally in the background. “You're not alone anymore.”

“That's a nice sentiment, Steve, but this is my problem, not yours.”

“What happened to no secret identities in the field?”

Tony growled at him, but didn't get the chance to say anything more before Stane jumped back into the conversation.

“And who are you to speak so to me? A Captain America knock-off? You do know the original died off decades ago and, while imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, copycats tend not to be as good as the originals,” Stane mocked. He directed his attention to Tony, ignoring the rest of the Avengers as though they were slightly annoying gnats not worth his time. “Looking for a replacement for the hero you never got to meet, Tony?”

Tony immediately started struggling with his captors, though Steve couldn't tell what had set him off. Was he offended by Stane's treatment of the team? Or did Tony take exception to the hero comment, which Steve felt flummoxed by? It wasn't until Tony started shouting at Steve not to say anything else, to just shut up now, when he realized what Tony was really worried about. Steve ignored him. If telling this jerk who he really was would take some of the focus off Tony, then Steve was more than willing to do it.

“You're mistaken, Mr. Stane,” Steve said loudly enough to get Stane's attention, pouring as much of his forties charm into his voice as he could. “I am Captain Steven Rogers, United States Army, also known as Captain America.”

Tony was still shouting at him to shut up, but it was already too late. His outburst and continued struggles seemed to convince Stane of Steve's identity more than Steve's confession itself. Steve could almost see the triumphant smirk on that smug face. It was mostly covered in shadow except for the lower half of the face, but still. So Steve stood tall and proud, raising to his impressive full height within the circle of robots and stared down Stane in the giant Iron Monger armor.

“So you were finally found,” Stane stated the obvious. “And I thought Howard was on a fool's errand when he was on to something the entire time. I wonder how much your rescuers made off your return.”

That set Tony off again. He started thrashing wildly which, in the Iron Man armor, looked more comical than furious with the liquid slow-motion way the armor forced Tony to move. It was effective, though, allowing Tony to throw off one of his captors and blast another with his repulsors. Soon, he was more or less free, taking off and flying straight for Steve. The super soldier stared in shock first at Tony's reaction and then as Stane blasted Tony out of the sky with his own, overly large repulsors. Tony landed hard on the ground, but Steve could hear groaning from the comm and see some slight movement from the crimson and gold armored Avenger.

“Tony!” Steve shouted, concern evident in his voice followed closely by a quiet sigh of relief when Tony grumbled something about secret identities.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Stane chided. Steve could just imagine the man shaking his head disapprovingly and it made his blood boil that Stane would pretend to be a father to Tony after all he had done to harm their friend. “You shouldn't have done that because now I can do this.”

Stane aimed both his repulsors at Steve along with what appeared to be half his arsenal of assorted miscellaneous weaponry, which appeared to be enlarged versions of the original weaponry built into the early Iron Man armors. The rest of the team made moves to come to his aid, even Hulk, who had finally taken a break from bashing random robots to notice a far more threatening target. Tony was even forcing himself to his feet to help defend Steve, but Stane warned them off.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you, unless you want to see your golden hero turned into a smear on the pavement,” Stane threatened. “Not even the super soldier serum can withstand everything I have aimed at him.”

“Damn you, Stane!” Tony shouted. He stood in a combative stance, dying to make a move, but knowing he couldn't without risking Steve's life. And no matter how reckless and selfish people claimed Tony was, Steve knew he was much too loyal to his team to allow them to get hurt if he could prevent it. So, for now, Tony stayed back, but Steve also knew he was just waiting for the first opening to dive back into the fray. “What the hell do you want?”

“It's okay, Iron Man,” Steve soothed over the comm. “Just stay calm. It's nothing I can't handle.”

“We've seen how you handle things, Cap,” Tony retorted. “Just shut up and stand there like a good damsel in distress while the heroes rescue your ass.”

“I'm not a damsel, Tony,” Steve said. “And I'm perfectly capable of rescuing myself.”

“Secret identities, Cap.”

Steve rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, but Stane jumped in before he could. “Is this how you fight your enemies? By bickering with each other instead of concentrating on your opponent? It's truly shocking any of you managed to survive this long.”

“I asked you what you wanted, Stane,” Tony said again. “And you've yet to give me an actual answer. Why don't you spit it out before I get tired of waiting and blow your ass up again?”

Steve smirked at Tony's snark. It might have failed him before, but Tony was back and snarkier than ever now that he had gotten over his shock.

“Like I said before, Tony, I want you.”

He couldn't see it behind the faceplate, but Steve would swear Tony's eyes narrowed in confusion at that. “What do you want with me?”

“Your mind, dear Tony,” Stane declared with a grandiose arm gesture. “Nothing lasts forever and I'm afraid I'm going to need some help on a few matters of a scientific persuasion. And I thought, who better to help me than my dear Tony?”

“Looks like you'll need to find someone else, because I don't do outside consulting work anymore,” Tony said.

“Oh, I think you'll make an exception for an old friend.”

Steve frowned, trying to figure out how Stane could be so confident in the face of Tony's infamous stubbornness. Not even Steve could reliably get past that natural Stark bullheadedness, though he'd gotten better in the weeks spent almost exclusively in Tony's presence. What could Stane have on Tony that would persuade him to do what Stane wanted?

“Maybe if there was an old friend here, but I don't see one,” Tony retorted. Steve heard something that sounded like someone gritting their teeth over the comm.

“Not even to save your childhood hero?” Stane taunted, gesturing toward Steve with his whirring repulsor. Steve heard Tony make a low growling noise over the comm and thought he saw the armor go a little stiffer than normal.

“You leave Steve out of this,” Tony demanded.

If Steve had been any less disciplined he would have gasped or made some sort of noise at Tony's admission. It was one thing for an enemy to suggest Tony had had strong feelings for him since he was a child, but quite another to hear the same from Tony's own mouth. Now Steve felt even worse for the less than kind way he had treated Tony when they'd first met and much more recently.

“I can't do that, Tony,” Stane said regretfully. “Not unless you agree to come with me. If you do, I'll let all of your little friends live, even Captain America.”

“Don't do it, Tony,” Steve shouted, ignoring the comm in favor of calling out to Tony in full view of Stane. He would show Stane that the Avengers couldn't be bullied into submission no matter how much he threatened them. “We can find another way.”

“Shut up, Steve. It's not your call anymore,” Tony said, keeping his eyes on Stane. “You'll let all of them go unharmed and order your robots to retreat?”

“Of course, Tony. After all, I am a man of my word.” Stane sounded hurt that Tony didn't trust him.

“Fine. It's a deal,” Tony agreed. Steve cursed at him, but Tony ignored him. “I'll go with you in exchange for my team's freedom.”

“Excellent choice, Tony. I'm glad we could come to an agreement.” Stane withdrew his weapons, powering down his repulsors and lowering them. He even called off the robots surrounding Steve. “If anyone makes any move to prevent Tony from coming with me, the deal is off and your lives are forfeit,” Stane warned. Steve stood seething, glaring at the Iron Monger with more hatred than he had ever felt in his life. “Now, Tony, take off your armor and leave it for your little friends. You won't need it where you're going.”

Steve watched as the Iron Man armor started disassembling around Tony. He had already taken the helmet off, dropping it to the ground, face grim. As soon as the armor fell away Tony visibly slumped, head bowed slightly, before he straightened again and glanced at Steve.

“Hey, Cap, make sure my armor gets back to my workshop in one piece for me?” Tony asked in his usual boisterous voice.

“Tony...”

“Man of Iron, surely there is another way! The Avengers would fight valiantly for your honor!” Thor shouted, taking a step forward and stopping suddenly when the robots around him began moving to intercept him.

“No sudden moves,” Stane ordered. His armor had sprouted its armaments again, all of them aimed at Steve. “We wouldn't want anything to happen to your precious Captain America, now would we?”

“NO! STOP!” Tony shouted, taking several hasty steps forward with hands raised in a placating gesture. “It's okay, Thor. I'll be fine.”

“No, Tony,” Steve breathed. Tony must have heard him over the comm because he turned to look at him.

“Don't forget my armor, Cap,” he said with false cheer. “Wouldn't want it falling into the wrong hands or anything.”

“We'll take care of your armor, Tony,” Steve reassured him, but thoughts of the armor were so far from his mind as to be irrelevant. Right now, Tony was his only priority.

“Thanks.”

Tony turned away, walking toward Stane surrounded by a guard of robots. Steve hated watching him go, everything in him burning to smash through the robots still surrounding him and take out Tony's guards. He entertained a brief fantasy of doing just that and Tony giving him that brilliant grin before calling the armor back to himself and fighting at Steve's side as they ripped the Iron Monger apart. Then cruel, cruel reality came crashing back down.

“Tony, please, don't do this,” Steve breathed over the comms, but Tony heard him and turned back.

The entire procession stopped when Tony did. There was a deep, all-encompassing sadness in Tony's eyes Steve could see from here and it made his heart ache.

“Sorry, Steve,” Tony murmured over the comms. “It was fun getting to know you, even though you can be frustratingly difficult at times. Like now, for instance.”

“Tony...”

Tony smiled at him, but it wasn't the usual bright grin. Steve couldn't describe it beyond it making him want to alternately burst into tears and fly into a berserker rage. He didn't have time to do either because Tony was still talking. Talking, talking, always talking, but never saying anything. Until now, when it mattered. Why did it have to be when he was marching to his doom?

“Hush, Steve. Everything's under control. I know you don't like to admit it, but I am an adult and can take care of myself.” Another humorless grin. “Haven't you figured it out by now? All the clues were there. It felt obvious to me, but, then again, I was right in the middle of it. I still can't believe you never noticed.”

“Noticed what, Tony?”

“You know what they mean now, right?” Tony asked instead, ignoring Steve's question. “That's why you never came back to visit me in the hospital. Think about it, Steve. There's a reason it happened to us, with all that that implies. Maybe you need one final clue. Here it is: Everything said here today is true. I did look up to you as a child and that child grew into the man you see before you today. Admittedly, I'm never very far away from my childish self. I guess I really am as stubborn as Mom always said. You see, the idea of you kept me going for years and now I'm returning the favor. I would do anything for you because, honestly, haven't you already suffered enough?”

Suffered enough? What was he talking about? Steve hadn't felt lost or adrift in this strange new century since Tony'd offered him a place in his tower with the rest of his team. And then it hit Steve. Somehow, without even realizing it, Tony had given him something else to focus on. Time spent with Tony never felt wasted and Steve almost always came away from it feeling better than when he went in. Tony had created a place for Steve to belong without any effort because that was what Tony did. Steve couldn't let Tony go with Stane now, not to save him.

“Tony...”

“Goodbye, Steve,” Tony said and turned back around.

He didn't give Steve another chance to try to stop him, striding toward Stane with all the confidence of a man who is in control and knows it. Tony really was a marvelous actor, but Steve didn't have time to admire him before Stane was ordering his robots to grab hold of Tony and they were gone in a rush of rocket boots as they flew away. Steve watched as they shrank to pinpricks in the distance before vanishing altogether. He felt like a vital piece of his soul had been ripped out and taken with them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Thor and Clint helped him carry Tony's armor down to his workshop for safe keeping. Steve looked around the room, seeing Tony everywhere he looked. He was in the tools scattered on multiple worktables, the half-dismantled bits of technology, his robots that sat there with their claws hanging down looking for all the world like sad puppies, and the tablet mock-up Tony had implied might explode on him the first time Steve came down here.

“Dammit! Why did I have to be such an idiot? Tony would still be here if I'd been paying attention!” He shouted, slamming a fist down on the nearest table and ignoring the sudden flare of pain. Super soldier he may be, but solid steel workbenches still hurt like hell when he hit them.

“It's not your fault, Steve,” Clint said. “It's that Stane guy's fault. He clearly had it out for Stark.”

“Yeah, and he got to him by holding me hostage because I wasn't paying attention.”

“If you are truly so concerned about Anthony, then you should do your best to locate and rescue him,” Thor said sternly. “Dwelling on past mistakes will only cause you to repeat them in the future.”

Steve took a deep breath. “You're right, Thor. I should be trying to find him instead of wallowing in my own self-pity. Anyone got any ideas?”

“I fear I am not familiar enough with this world to offer any suggestions,” Thor said.

“That's okay, Thor. You already helped.”

“I might have an idea,” Clint said hesitantly.

“What is it?”

“You remember that algorithm Stark created to find the Mandarin?”

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“Why don't we just change it to search for Stane instead?” Clint suggested.

Steve turned his gaze to the ceiling. “JARVIS? Is that possible?”

“I could modify sir's program to find possible locations where Stane may be hiding,” JARVIS said. “It could take several hours and I could not guarantee the resulting program's accuracy.”

“It's all we've got. Do it,” Steve ordered.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Two days later and they had nothing. JARVIS had modified Tony's original program, but they hadn't gotten any hits. Steve was growing more and more frustrated as time passed. The rest of the team wasn't much better. Natasha and Clint both had calls out to their contacts to send any information on Tony's whereabouts their way, but that method hadn't turned up any results yet either. Steve had even contacted SHIELD in the hopes they might have something on Stane that could be useful, but their records said he was dead.

Steve spent most of his time pacing in his rooms. He was doing just that when JARVIS alerted him to an incoming e-mail.

“There is an e-mail coming in I believe you will want to see, Captain.”

“What? You never tell me about e-mails. Who would even send me an e-mail?” Steve said, confusion evident in his voice.

“The sender is blocked, Captain, but I believe the content of the message are of particular interest,” JARVIS said.

“Alright. Put it up, please.”

“Of course, Captain.”

JARVIS did as requested and Steve's heart nearly stopped. “Can you show this to the rest of the team?”

“Certainly, Captain. Would the media room be a satisfactory meeting place?”

“That's fine. Call the rest of the team there too,” Steve ordered.

“Of course, Captain.”

Steve left his suite and headed for the stairs, too keyed up to wait on the elevator, and took the steps three at a time. He arrived in the media room with the huge TV and hundreds of movies lining the walls to see Clint and Natasha already there. They asked what was so important, but Steve insisted they wait for Bruce and Thor to arrive before he explained everything. Steve was starting to regret that decision when the two missing members of the team didn't appear immediately. He was fighting the urge to pace when Thor finally appeared and Bruce slipped in behind him.

“What has you so excited, Steve?” Thor asked. “Has Anthony's invisible assistant located our lost friend?”

The entire team perked up at the suggestion, but Steve shook his head.

“No, Thor. We still haven't made any progress on that front, but I don't think we have to now.”

“Why?” Natasha asked, straight to the point as always.

“He sent me a message,” Steve said. “JARVIS, put up that e-mail you showed me.”

“Of course, Captain.”

The TV turned on, displaying the e-mail Steve had received. There were no words in the message, no numbers, nothing but a crude image of what Steve recognized as the mark branded into his chest.

“What is it?” Bruce asked.

“It looks like someone tried drawing in Paint. I'm not sure what they were going for, though,” Clint said.

“Who is it from, Steve?” Natasha asked.

“JARVIS said the sender was blocked, but I think it's from Tony.”

“Are you sure this cryptic message is from Anthony?” Thor asked.

“Yeah. It could be a trap to draw us out,” Clint said.

“Why would anyone need to draw us out. We're not exactly hiding and our only enemies right now are either targeting Tony or already have him in their grasp,” Bruce pointed out.

“How should I know? I'm just trying to cover all the possibilities.” Clint again.

“It's from Tony. It has to be,” Steve insisted.

Natasha studied him carefully for a moment. “How do you know?”

“Because that's my mark. The only person who has seen it besides me is Tony.”

“That's your mark?” Clint asked. “Wait! How did Stark see it?”

Steve shrugged. “I asked him what it was when I first got it.”

“Can we track where this e-mail came from? If it is from Stark, then he probably sent it to help us find him,” Natasha said.

“I have already started the trace, Agent Romanov. I shall inform the team when I get a hit.”

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Steve said. “Avengers, get ready to head out at a moment's notice. We leave as soon as JARVIS finds the sender.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

At Natasha's suggestion, Steve had Clint land the Quinjet a mile out from the location JARVIS gave them. Despite the desperate urge to get to Tony as soon as possible, Steve had to admit her stealth-based strategy made the most logical sense. The later the enemy was alerted to their presence, the more time the Avengers had to find their missing teammate and the easier it would be. That didn't mean Steve had to like it.

They covered the distance to the hidden base, a nondescript gray building, in no time at all. Two guards who were dressed like the Mandarin soldiers they'd fought at the factory manned the door. Steve took Natasha and circled around the edges of the complex on either side to sneak up behind them and dispatch them silently. Natasha searched her guard and found a keycard they used to open the door. They didn't wait for the others to catch up before slipping inside.

Clint, Thor, and Bruce caught up quickly, reuniting with them before they reached the first intersection. Not sure which way to go, Steve sent Clint and Thor down one hall and took Natasha and Bruce down the other, reminding them all that they were only to break radio silence if they ran into trouble and needed back up or they found the security room and/or Tony. Clint nodded and Thor clasped his shoulder before they were off down their assigned corridor.

Steve and Natasha took the lead in their own group, quickly and silently dispatching any one who crossed their path. Bruce hung back and tried to stay out of the way until he was needed. Steve had decided earlier that if they were treating this as a stealth mission, then having the Hulk rampaging through the base would defeat the purpose. They checked every room they came across with no luck. Most of them were empty and the ones that weren't only had a few people in them. His group had just reached a set of descending staircases and Steve was wondering where all the guards were when the corridor filled with the blaring of klaxons and flashing red lights.

“Hawkeye to Captain America,” Steve heard over the comms at almost the same time. “I found the security room and the camera feeds.”

“Is the alarm your doing?” Steve asked. Hawkeye sounded a little sheepish when he answered.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. Turns out the security personnel actually know what they're doing. One of them hit the alarm before I could stop him.”

“No sense worrying about it now. Have you located Iron Man?”

“Yeah, but it doesn't look like they've got him building weapons. It looks more like a laboratory with computers and chemistry equipment,” Hawkeye said.

“Where is he?” Steve asked, filing the rest away for later.

“Take those stairs down three flights. He's in a room near the center. Better get a move on, you've got a detachment of those fire soldiers heading your way.”

Steve gestured for his group to follow him and headed down the stairs, continuing to talk over the comms as he went. “Can you hold your position, Hawkeye?”

“Thor's got a pretty good bottleneck going in the doorway. I'd say we can hold out here for a while, especially if you wreak some havoc on your way to Iron Man and draw them away,” Hawkeye said. “You'll probably have to swing by and dig us out on your way back through, though.”

“Good,” Steve said. “Stay there and keep me updated on guard movements and Iron Man's location. Keep us on track.”

“Roger that, Cap. Hawkeye out.”

Steve's conversation ended just in time for him to hear the sound of several running footsteps. The guard detachment Hawkeye had mentioned heading their way. Well, the element of surprise was already gone, so Steve decided to make their job a little easier, if a bit unbalanced.

“Bruce, you feeling angry?”

“Always, Captain,” he said.

“Great. Bring out the Hulk. Iron Man's on the third floor near the center,” Steve said and pressed himself against the wall.

He saw Black Widow do the same opposite him, then the Hulk was charging between them with a roar. Steve could hear the surprised screaming of several men as Hulk scattered them like bowling pins. Widow followed the path Hulk cleared for them and Steve brought up the rear.

Hulk wreaked a trail of havoc as Hawkeye had requested, blazing a trail for him and Widow as Steve relayed Hawkeye's directions to him from the rear. Black Widow took out several Mandarin soldiers that managed to avoid the Hulk's wrath, leaving nothing for Steve to do but make sure Hulk was leading them in the right direction. Minutes after the alarm first sounded, they were already coming up on the set of double doors Hawkeye said led to the room Tony was imprisoned in.

“There are eight guards in there now, twice what he had before. You must really be wreaking some havoc down there. I think Iron Man knows we're here. He's throwing stuff at the guards now and they are not liking it,” Hawkeye commented.

“Stay on track, Hawkeye. Anyone else in there?” Steve admonished.

“Sorry, Cap. Just the eight regular guards and a ninth guy I don't recognize. He's dressed like a scientist and doesn't appear to have a weapon. Maybe he's there to supervise?”

“We'll find out. Captain America out,” Steve said, turning his attention to Hulk. “Break it down, Hulk! We're going in!”

The Hulk complied, running through the steel doors like they weren't even there. Widow and Steve followed, flanking a roaring Hulk on either side as they took in the contents and occupants of the room. As Hawkeye had said, it looked to be a laboratory more than a workshop and there was nothing in sight that anyone could make a conventional weapon out of. The tables were lined with computers and what Steve assumed were various types of chemistry equipment. A row of large circular metal containers lined one wall. They were labeled with white and red stickers that read “Caution. Flammable.” And there, in the center of the room flinging what looked to be test tubes filled with different colored liquids at his captors, was Tony.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tony debated fighting back against his captors as soon as the alarms went off, but decided to hold out just a little longer until the rest of the team could get close enough to back him up. He didn't really feel like getting burnt to a crisp or blasted full of holes before Steve and the others could find him. A minute later he was cursing himself for a fool when four more of the guards ran into the room and took up positions in front of the door. Now he would have to wait. Nine against one were bad odds for anyone.

Finally, Tony could hear the Hulk's roaring. It sounded nearby and was drawing closer at a truly alarming rate. He wished he could see his guards' faces and how terrified they looked.

Deciding the time was right, Tony picked up a rack of test tubes filled with a variety of chemicals modern laboratory procedure recommended not coming into contact with bare skin and threw it at the nearest guard. The man let out a surprised yell and spun just in time to get another rack of similarly filled test tubes in the face. He screamed from pain then and began clawing at his mask and face, trying to wipe the chemicals away.

Tony ducked under one of the tables and rolled under it, avoiding gunfire from several of the remaining guards who had finally realized the danger at their backs. He popped back up on the other side of the table and grabbed more test tubes, throwing them at the guards just as the Hulk burst through the doors followed by Natasha and Steve. Damn, Tony had missed him.

The guards spun back around, dropping their guns in favor of starting in with their special fire powers. Huh, these guys were smart, or well-informed, to not bother with bullets against the Hulk, not that fire would work any better. Hulk accepted the challenge and began smashing everything in sight, aiming for the guards, but missing as they danced out of the way. Natasha joined him and began trying to herd them back within range of Hulk.

Steve ignored all of them and began vaulting over the tables that stood between him and Tony only to be intercepted. The super soldier stopped, eying the last obstacle between him and his goal. Frankly, it was kinda hot, but Tony didn't think he was supposed to be thinking that right now. What did damsels in distress think about anyway? Screw it, Steve's hot, especially when he goes all protector-of-kittens-and-wayward-geniuses on the bad guy.

“Who are you and what do you want with Tony?” Steve demanded in his Captain America voice. Tony would be fanning himself right now if he had anything nearby to fan himself with.

“My name is Aldrich Killian and I just need Mr. Stark's help with a small project,” Killian said. Tony rolled his eyes.

“He's that AIM guy who was harassing Pepper, Cap,” Tony said. He could see Steve remembered the incident and the spark of understanding when he connected the pieces and came to a conclusion.

“You want him to help you perfect the healing serum,” Steve said. Killian broke out into sarcastic applause.

“You are as smart as they say, Captain,” he said. “Tony got me this far and now I need him to finish the job.”

Steve glanced at Tony over Killian's shoulder, but Tony shrugged. He had no idea what the whack job was talking about. Killian noticed the movement and looked over his shoulder in time to catch Tony's own confusion.

“Come now, Tony,” he implored. “Surely you remember our meeting a couple decades ago?”

“Can't say that I do. Must have been my evil twin,” Tony quipped. Killian laughed, throwing his head back. Tony didn't care much for the sound and, judging by his expression, neither did Steve.

“Always with the jokes, Tony. Just like that night when you told me I should give up on this formula because it would never work, but it does. It works and I proved you wrong!”

“Alright, cool it with the crazy eyes,” Tony said, raising his hands placatingly and taking a step back only to hit the table behind him. He saw Steve take a step forward, shield raised. At least he had back up.

Killian continued to stare with the crazy eyes Tony was really starting to object to and added a mad Cheshire cat grin to the look. The overall effect was one that made Tony want to scramble into his suit and get as far away from the crazy as he could. He'd even take Loki over this wacko.

“I proved you wrong, Tony,” Killian insisted, stalking toward him around the tables still between them. Tony scrambled over and around more tables in an effort to keep something between him and Killian. “Admit you were wrong. Admit it!”

Tony was really starting to fear for his life. He didn't even notice that Steve was keeping pace with them as Killian chased Tony around the room. The Hulk and Natasha had already chased the other guards out the door and were fighting them and their back up in the corridor. Tony thought he might have heard Thor's voice in there too. But none of that was important compared to the fact that Killian was steadily getting closer to Tony somehow. Tony fumbled around on the table behind him, searching for anything that he could use as a weapon and wishing desperately that his team had thought to bring his suitcase armor.

“Except he wasn't wrong,” Steve said out of nowhere. Killian and Tony both stopped in their tracks to stare at him.

“What?” Killian demanded.

“Tony wasn't wrong about the serum,” Steve repeated. “You said it yourself. He was the one who developed it this far and you need him to finish what he started because something's wrong with it. It doesn't do what it was supposed to do, does it?”

“Yes, it does!” Killian shouted. “It allowed me to walk again. It healed me when nothing else could!”

“But it did more than that,” Tony said, putting the pieces together. “It healed you, but it's not stable. It changed you, all the people you gave it to. That's how they can shoot fire, but it's not stable. It causes the subjects to spontaneously explode.”

“That's why you couldn't find the Mandarin,” Steve said, taking up the thread. “The explosions really were random and not meant to happen at all. The Mandarin was just a front. But, why?”

“I needed Tony to take an interest. He kept refusing me at every turn, having his assistant stonewall me, but I wouldn't stand for that. No, I deserved his attention because I did what he said couldn't be done and I wanted him to know it!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tony demanded. “I don't remember you at all.”

“You don't remember New Year's Eve 1999? I was in a wheelchair then and I was trying to sell you on this very serum. I was trying to get you to save my life and you told me it was hopeless!” Killian screamed. “Well, I showed you! I showed the world!”

Tony backed up again, but there was nowhere for him to go and Killian had apparently had enough of talking. He shot a stream of fire at him that Tony just barely managed to dodge and only because Steve jumped in and grabbed Killian. The two grappled, but Tony could see that Steve was having trouble getting a grip on Killian. It wasn't until Killian sent a blast of fire at Steve that Tony realized why. Killian must have been using the serum in his veins to heat his skin enough to burn even Steve.

Steve needed an opening, so he could use his shield. Glancing around, Tony saw another rack of test tubes, his latest weapon of choice apparently, and flung it at Killian. It smashed against his back and some of the chemicals evaporated upon contact, but it caught his attention. He really should have thought that move through a little more because he found himself dodging more flames. What was it with kidnappers and heat anyway? Next time he got kidnapped he would insist on them taking him somewhere cooler.

It was worth it, though, when Steve slammed his shield right into the side of Killian's head. The man went down and Steve made his way over to Tony's side, but before he could say anything Killian was up and moving again.

“I set all this up for you, Tony,” he said, stalking toward them with a large splotch of instantly dried blood on the side of his head. That combined with the crazy eyes made him look like a horror movie villain. “The Mandarin to get your attention. And faking a dead father figure. Did you like that touch? Wasn't it accurate? It wasn't easy making it perfect since the footage of your battle with him was so grainy. I waited and waited, but your Captain America refused to leave your side in the hospital, so I had to concoct a different scheme. And what better one than a blast from the past with a touch of your own expertise. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist coming out to save your friends, especially Captain America. I saw what you were willing to risk for him at the factory. You gave me everything I needed to blackmail you!”

“You're insane,” Tony said, deciding to ignore the confusing part where Steve had apparently stayed by his bedside while he was injured. He only remembered the others, not Steve.

“There's a fine line between genius and insanity,” Killian said.

“Yeah and you crossed it a long time ago.”

Killian's eyes narrowed angrily. “You'll get to experience it up close and personal, Tony, because you're not leaving here until you've stabilized the serum or you die. Your choice.”

“You're not getting away with this,” Steve said.

He raised his shield to attack, but Killian blasted him with another stream of fire. Steve managed to push against the flames and slowly close the distance between them, but not before Killian grabbed a syringe off the nearby table and stabbed himself in the leg with it, depressing the plunger.

“You are a stubborn one, Tony,” Killian said with a grin, knocking Steve back into him. “Stalling for days and even managing to find a way around my firewalls to send a message to your friends. I must admit, you are almost more trouble than your worth, but not quite.”

“Thanks for the compliment. Stubbornness has always been my best trait,” Tony said.

“Yes, it has hasn't it?” Killian agreed. “But I think your loyalty to your friends, especially Captain America, outweighs your stubbornness. Shall we test the theory?” Killian walked slowly toward the row of containers marked as flammable until he was standing mere inches away from them. He turned and flashed them an arrogant smirk. “What do you think, Tony?”

“That can't be good,” Tony muttered to himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve give him a horrified look.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“That was the unfinished serum. He's injected himself with twice the usual amount now,” Tony explained. “He's destabilizing himself and with those flammable chemicals next to him the whole place will go up.”

Steve grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out the door while speaking into his comm. Killian laughed hysterically and called after them.

“You'll never escape alive!” He screamed.

“Captain America to all Avengers. Get out! Get out now! The whole place is gonna blow!” Steve shouted into his comm. “Repeat: Abandon the base immediately! Explosion imminent!”

He must have gotten the acknowledgments he was looking for because Steve didn't put out the call again. Instead, he focused on dragging Tony through the mostly abandoned base. Only a few guards still wandered the corridors, but he and Steve passed them so quickly they didn't have a chance to do more than stare after them in shock. The pair reached a staircase and Tony forced himself up three flights of stairs, breathing hard. He was slowing down and he knew it, but Steve refused to let up on the pace.

“Come on, Tony. We gotta get out of here,” he said, still dragging Tony along.

Not wanting to disappoint Steve again, Tony forced himself to go faster, to keep up with the super soldier ahead of him, but it felt like a losing battle. Still, Tony was nothing if not stubborn and he managed to keep it up long enough to make it to the exit and out into the open air. The rest of the Avengers waited for them there and Steve shouted at them to keep going. Tony might have said something, but he was having trouble getting air already.

Steve dragged him across the open area before the treeline. They made it just as the base exploded, a plume of flames billowed out of the still open main door, but all six Avengers had managed to pass the treeline and into safety just in time. Tony leaned against a tree, bent almost double with his hands on his knees and gasping for air. A warm hand rubbed soothing circles into his back and Tony turned his head to see Steve grinning down at him.

“He was wrong again. We did make it,” he said. Tony huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah. We did.”

“Come on, let's get you home,” Steve said, helping him straighten and staying by his side the entire mile-long walk back.

“Could you guys have parked any further away?” Tony grumbled.

“Sure, but we thought a mile would be just far enough to annoy you, but not far enough to annoy us,” Clint said.

“Very funny. Ha ha. Just for that, we're stopping at a drive-thru on the way back.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Quinjet finally touched down on the landing pad of Avengers Tower nearly ten minutes after their intended arrival time because of a certain genius' insistence that they stop for Burger King.

“It's tradition, Steve! I can't come home from a kidnapping without Burger King! That's sacrilege!”

Steve had given in with little protest, trying to avoid the huge, brown eyes pleading with him. It was the same look Tony had tried to use to get Steve to bring him more coffee before the whole Mandarin/Iron Monger/Killian debacle. The look hadn't quite worked then, but now that Steve knew how much he truly cared for Tony he had the feeling he would need to stay as far away from that look as possible or else end up wrapped around Tony's little finger. Jury was still out on whether it was already to late for him in that regard.

So they were disembarking and heading into the tower ten minutes later than expected, but no one seemed eager to vanish into their own suites. In fact, they all gathered in the communal kitchen with bags upon bags of burgers that they piled onto the island. Even Tony had followed the rest of the group, having stuck close to Steve's side the whole way back from Killian's now-destroyed base and the site of his captivity.

“Tony?” Steve said gently. Tony hummed to show he was listening, but Steve could tell the majority of his attention was on trying to decide which paper bag to rip into first. “Can I talk to you in private for a moment?”

Tony looked up at that. “Huh? Uh, sure thing, Cap.”

Steve led the way out of the kitchen and down the hall until they were out of earshot of the rest of the Avengers. When he turned around to face Tony he saw the other fidgeting and with head bowed like he thought he was in trouble. He immediately launched into a babble of apologies and explanations Steve only caught about half of.

“I'm sorry, Steve. Really I am. I know I should have told you about the marks from the beginning and –”

“Tony,” Steve tried, but Tony plowed right on.

“I know you probably hate me now and I'll leave if you want me too, but I really don't want to. It's not like you'd see me much since I'm always in my workshop so it should be okay, but mmf –”

Steve couldn't stand listening to Tony babble any longer and stopped him the only way he could think to do it. He kissed him. Tony stood stiffly at first, shocked into stillness by Steve's brazenness, but he recovered quickly. The next thing Steve knew he had an armful of Tony Stark and he was using the wall behind him to prop himself up. Tony pressed himself closer to Steve, his body curving to fit snugly against Steve's. Not even air passed between them, not that Steve would have noticed distracted as he was by the kissing.

They finally broke apart for air and Steve couldn't help but take advantage of the reprieve.

“It's okay, Tony. I'm not angry or upset or anything you're thinking,” Steve assured him.

Tony frowned. “Then why did you want to talk to me?”

The question caused Steve to flush, but he fought to hold Tony's gaze. “I wanted to talk to you to tell you that I love you.”

“What?”

“I realized it when you went with the fake Iron Monger voluntarily,” Steve explained. “Although, truthfully, I was in love with you long before that. It seemed like a natural progression somehow. I'm assuming that's what you meant about us having the marks for a reason.”

Tony looked dazed. “Yeah, something like that,” he said.

Steve smiled and began guiding him further down the hall and away from the rest of their team. The elevator doors opened without prompting, JARVIS anticipating their needs and fulfilling them as efficiently as ever.

“Come on, Tony,” Steve said gently. “Let's get you to bed. You've had a hard few days.”

“Tell me about it,” Tony replied, still sounding like he was a little out of it.

They rode the elevator in silence, the only sound the ding of the elevator when they reached the penthouse. Steve guided Tony out of the elevator with a gentle hand at the small of his back. Tony went easily, leaning back against Steve as they moved to Tony's bedroom. Steve went to make Tony sit on the edge of the bed, but Tony had finally recovered his senses and had some plans of his own. Just as he was falling backward, he wrapped his arms around Steve's neck and pulled him down with him.

Tony's lips pressed against his, hands trailing down Steve's back in a gentle caress. Steve went willingly, kissing Tony back just as insistently as Tony kissed him and trailing his fingers down Tony's sides, earning an appreciative moan from him. Tony arched his body up into Steve's. His fingers curling under the hem of Steve's shirt and tugging it up to expose warm skin. Tony's hot fingers trailed burning patterns into his flesh Steve swore he would feel the ghost of for days.

Steve pulled away long enough to tug Tony's shirt off over his head and threw it to the floor, his own shirt following not a second later. Tony made a sound of appreciation, hungry gaze taking in every inch of exposed skin, resting for long seconds on Steve's mark. Slowly, ever so slowly, he reached up and brushed his fingers against the inky lines branding him as forever belonging to Tony. The moment felt much more intimate than it really had any right to be, but Steve found he couldn't regret it. Tony touching the mark made his heart beat faster in the best way and he just had to kiss Tony again.

Tony wrapped his arms around him, not allowing Steve to move away even slightly and forcing him to lay fully on top of Tony. Steve wouldn't have thought that would be comfortable, but Tony seemed to like it so Steve didn't protest. He just went back to kissing him, moving from his mouth and trailing kisses along Tony's face to his neck. Steve spent a few moments suckling at the warm, sensitive skin there. When Tony moaned Steve stopped where he was, sucking hard enough to leave a mark of his own making. Tony only encouraged him, tightening his arms around Steve's shoulders.

Steve kissed the newly made mark and trailed more down to his collarbone, exploring as much of Tony as he could. His hands trailed up and down Tony's sides, sliding along the curves and dips of Tony's muscles. Steve had Tony keening, a hand moving to trail through his hair while the other curled into a loose fist on his shoulder. He smiled into the next kisses pressed to hot skin as Steve trailed further down Tony's torso. Finally, he reached Tony's mark and couldn't resist the sudden urge to kiss it. Steve tugged a little at Tony's jeans to expose the entire mark on his hip and pressed his lips to the midnight markings contrasting with snow pale skin.

“Steve...”

Tony gasped loudly, carding his fingers through Steve's hair, and tugged his head up. Steve went with it and found eager lips pressing against his. Surprisingly, Tony was the one to push him away. He breathed heavily, eyes never leaving Steve's.

“Believe me, I'm not usually the one to put a stop to things, especially when they look like they're going in such a great direction, but if we don't stop now, I'm going to miss out on my post-kidnapping hamburgers,” Tony said. Steve could only grin at him.

“Are you sure about that?”

Tony's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Steve?”

Steve reached over the edge of the bed, leaning down close to Tony and teasing him with the chance of another kiss, then revealed a very familiar paper bag with the Burger King logo emblazoned on it. Tony's widened eyes focused in on the bag full of goodness instantly and he made grabby hands at it.

“I love you. You are officially my favorite person in the whole world.”

Steve laughed and handed it over. “I should have known the way to your heart was through food,” he said. Tony froze.

“Steve, I should explain why I hid everything from you for so long,” he finally forced out. He looked dejected and Steve hated to see him like that.

“There's no need. I already know everything.”

“You do? How?” Tony asked in surprise. Steve only gave him a secretive grin.

“That's my little secret, one I shall not reveal at this time. I have a feeling I'm going to need all the advantages I can get when it comes to you,” he teased, poking Tony gently in the chest. “Now let's eat. I'm starving.”

Tony grinned back at him and opened the bag, handing over a wrapped burger and pulling out another for himself. Then he leaned over and gave Steve a quick kiss. “I have the utmost faith in your abilities. Now, eat. J, put on a movie, would you?”

“Certainly, sir.”

The TV across the room flickered to life and Steve settled in to watch whatever JARVIS chose for them. He sat propped against the headboard with Tony curled into his side, pressing his body as close as possible to Steve's. Steve wrapped an arm around him and tugged him closer, planting a kiss on the top of his head. Tony made a small noise of protest, but otherwise didn't complain.

“Did you know I used to fantasize about you taking me to bed?” Tony asked casually about halfway through the movie.

“Yeah? Yours or mine?”

“Both, but watching a movie was definitely not what I'd had in mind,” Tony admitted.

“I think I know what you had in mind,” Steve said. “Maybe if you're lucky, those fantasies will stop being fantasies.”

“Don't tease me, Steve! That would be far too cruel and Captain America isn't supposed to be cruel.”

“Where's the fun if I don't get to tease you at least a little?” Steve asked innocently.

“I can think of a lot of fun things we could do,” Tony suggested, arching an eyebrow and leaning further into Steve.

“Later, Tony. It's been a long day and you're exhausted.”

Tony pouted at him, trying and failing to hold back a yawn. “How do you always know that? It's been driving me crazy forever.”

“Practice, darling,” Steve murmured against Tony's ear. “Lots and lots of practice.”

Then he kissed Tony into silence and they laid there until sleep claimed them, wrapped securely in each other's arms.