Work Text:
“What the- Rogers?!”
Tony was furious seeing none other than Steve Rogers himself, in his bedroom of all places. His hair was longer and he sported a beard, but Tony would recognize him no matter how he looked. Even after such a long time.
He wondered why F.R.I.D.A.Y. had even let him in without informing Tony.
But then Tony took a closer look at Steve, how he leaned heavily against the table, the baggy clothes that made him look a lot smaller than he actually was, and Tony could see a split lip and a cut above one eyebrow. Steve stared at him with wide eyes as if he couldn’t believe Tony was really here. He was pale and looked utterly exhausted.
“Shit, Steve, what the hell happened to you?”
Steve stayed quiet. He continued looking at Tony and Tony got the feeling Steve would probably run away if he could which didn’t seem possible right now. There had to be a reason he was here, right?
“You know what, nevermind. Let’s just… I don’t know. Do you need a doctor? A bath? Food? A hug?”
No answer, but Tony could see how Steve’s hands shook before he pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands to hide them. Whatever was going on, Tony was not prepared for it.
He took a breath and tried to get his thoughts in order.
Priorities.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Can you tell me if Captain Rogers needs medical attention?” he asked into the room.
“It doesn’t appear so, boss.”
“Okay, that’s good,” Tony said, but he had the feeling that nothing was actually good.
“Steve, can you at least nod or shake your head if I ask you a question?”
He looked at Steve expectantly and after a moment of hesitation, Steve nodded slightly.
“Thank you. Do you want to take a shower?”
Another nod.
“Perfect. You can use the ensuite bathroom; there are enough towels in there as well,” Tony said, then directed his words at the room again, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., just use the same shower settings Steve used to have.”
“You got it, boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered dutifully.
Tony led Steve to the bathroom, and he could see Steve limping slightly. Christ, who did this to him? And more importantly: Could Tony punish them for it? He certainly wanted to.
“Take all the time you need,” Tony said with an encouraging smile before he left the bathroom. He waited in front of the door until he could hear the shower running, then also left his bedroom to fetch some of Steve’s clothes.
It was a strange feeling when Tony entered Steve’s old room. Nothing had changed. He’d kept everything exactly the same, in case Steve and the others returned. And now Steve was back. But everything seemed to have changed.
Tony grabbed a few comfy-looking clothes from Steve’s wardrobe and went into the kitchen to prepare him some grilled cheese sandwiches. Tony knew Steve had them all the time when he didn’t feel like cooking or even while waiting for a delivery.
He brought everything back to his bedroom, just in time for Steve to exit the bathroom, only with a towel slung around his hips.
Tony handed him the clothes wordlessly and Steve disappeared into the bathroom again. When he re-emerged, he looked simultaneously more and less like himself. It was a familiar sight seeing Steve in his clothes again, but everything else just felt so wrong. It also didn’t help that he wasn’t talking.
“Sit down,” Tony said and for a moment Steve looked around the room, unsure where he was allowed to sit, until Tony took the decision from him. “On the bed. Get comfy, c’mon.”
Reluctantly, Steve sat down and slowly ran a hand over the sheets. Tony wished he could read his mind and figure out what was going on in his pretty head.
He grabbed a blanket and put it around Steve’s shoulders, then put the plate with the sandwiches in his lap.
“Eat,” he said and when Steve didn’t move, added, “Please.”
That seemed to do the trick and Steve started nibbling on a sandwich. Apparently Steve didn’t know how hungry he was until he was eating and after a very slow start, he was digging into the sandwiches until all four of them were gone.
Tony had been quiet while Steve was eating, but now he felt the need to talk again. He simply didn’t know where to start and what to say. Should he ask more questions? Talk about himself? He wasn’t sure.
While Tony was still debating, he suddenly heard a whispered “Thank you” from Steve.
“Anytime,” Tony said. “I mean it, Steve. You said you’d be there when I needed you and even though I didn’t tell you, the same goes for me. I got you.”
Steve nodded, but when Tony realized he wanted to get up to probably put his empty plate on the table, he took the plate from him and grabbed his hand.
“Stay,” he said and after seeing the distressed look on Steve’s face, he added, “In the bed for now. Get some rest, you look like you need it. We can talk later. Or team up and go after whoever hurt you.”
“Can’t just go and hurt a civilian,” Steve mumbled and Tony’s heart ached for him. Oh God. He finally understood. Steve let someone hurt him by not fighting back. Someone he had most likely cared for a lot and also didn’t expect to do something like that to him.
Tony squeezed Steve’s hand in sympathy and caressed his thumb over his hand. He could feel Steve shiver under the touch, his hand warm from the shower. Tony remembered how Steve had complained about his cold hands all the time.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you. We can still figure out the next steps together. You don’t wanna do this alone, that’s why you’re here, right?”
Steve nodded.
“Common ground, perfect. Let’s rest for now and make a plan together, later.”
“Okay,” Steve whispered, and for the first time since he’d arrived, he smiled a little.