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Bruce Banner came into the eating area just off the kitchen looking like he’d slept in the clothes he was wearing. Being rumpled was a common look for the doctor, so no one commented, even though it was lunchtime. Bruce took a spot at the table and, without missing a beat, Clint handed him a full mug of tea. Tony grinned; Bruce was even less of a morning person than he was and Tony hadn’t thought that was possible.
“Long night?” Natasha’s voice thrummed with sympathy, but something about her tone made Tony look at her sharply. As she took a sip of her own tea, Tony could see the barest hint of a smile tugging at those full lips. On anyone else, it would be the subtlest of expressions, but for Natasha, it was akin to a shout.
“Something like that,” Bruce answered, futilely trying to hide his face in the steam rising up from the mug, but it did nothing to conceal his blush.
“You sure are dedicated to your experiments,” Clint drawled, openly smirking.
“Yeah, he is,” Tony answered for his friend, a grin slowly spreading across his face. He looked from Bruce to Natasha to
Clint. Natasha and Clint were trouble, but Tony’d been trying to get Bruce to believe that his life was in sore need of some trouble. It looked like the other scientist had finally decided to listen. “Very dedicated.”
Bruce’s face got redder, but when the room’s other occupants didn’t contribute to the teasing, he relaxed a little. That only lasted for a moment, though, before Bruce was frowning. “Where’s Steve?”
“Dunno,” Tony answered in an offhand way, busy in the process of folding his pizza slice, New York style. He’d been wondering the same thing himself.
“The captain indicated that he’d broken fast earlier and did not need to share the midday meal with us,” Thor stated helpfully. The Asgardian was in residence while his lover was spending quality time with her family
Pepper made a small sound of displeasure. “That’s odd, I saw him come back from a jog early this morning and he said he wasn’t hungry.”
Bruce was clearly unhappy with what he heard and addressed the house AI. “JARVIS, connect me to Steve Rogers.”
“Certainly, sir,” came the disembodied voice. A moment later, Steve’s sounded through the room.
“This is Rogers, what do you need, Bruce?”
“I need you in the kitchen,” Bruce was unusually terse.
They couldn’t see Steve, but his confusion was obvious from his voice. “Is there an emergency, because if it’s for lunch, I already - . . . .”
“Now, Captain.” Bruce barked. He made a cutting motion with his hand, a nonverbal order to JARVIS to cut the transmission. Tony was impressed; with no other way to communicate with Bruce, Steve would have no choice but to come to the kitchen.
When Bruce turned back to the table, every eyeball was fixated on him. Bruce and Steve had always shared mutual respect, but since Steve had verbally slapped down General Ross on Bruce’s behalf the week before, the doctor had been particularly solicitous towards the other man. It was rare for Bruce to snap at anyone, but unthinkable for his target to be Steve.
“Should we be expecting the Other Guy for lunch?” Tony asked pointedly. “Because if so, we need to order more pizza. A lot more pizza.”
“This is not my angry expression,” Bruce pointed to his face. “This is my concerned expression.”
“Hate to tell you this, Bruce, but your worry face looks kinda like a grumpy one to me.” Tony glared at Natasha and Clint. “What did you do to him? Getting laid’s usually supposed to relax you.”
Pepper’s soft “Tony,” was as full of fondness as it was exasperation.
Tony was glad that they were still friends. It’d been his choice to break off their relationship, but it was the best thing for her. Pepper deserved to love someone who didn’t put his life on the line on a regular basis. He knew he’d made the right choice when she didn’t fight him too much. Pepper was every bit as stubborn as he was, the only reason she’d managed to put up with him so long. If she’d wanted to remain his girlfriend, then Pepper would have and nothing Tony could have said or done would have changed that. Tony tried not to let it hurt that she’d given in so easily.
“Hey, just because I upgraded the tower to be Hulk-proof doesn’t mean that I want to test it.” Tony defended himself.
“No worries, Pepper,” Bruce commented, his eyes intent on the elevators. “If the other guy is going after anybody today, it’s not going to be Tony. Our favorite captain has been avoiding me and, for his own good, that ends today.”
The others exchanged worried looks, but before anyone could respond, the elevator doors open and Steve Rogers himself stepped out. His step hesitated when he saw that the entire team was waiting for him, but Tony wasn’t sure that anyone but him noticed. As he came more fully into the room, Tony could see that the captain was dressed for a workout. His posture as he reached the others, however, was that of a soldier waiting for inspection.
“Dr. Banner, you wanted to speak with me?” Despite that momentary lapse, Steve was the picture of unflappable confidence. It was probably not a good sign that he’d lapsed into a more formal mode of addressing Bruce.
“Yes, I did.” Bruce stood and slowly circled the younger man. “What have you had to eat today?”
“Excuse me?” Steve stiffened and Tony was reminded that he and Pepper weren’t the only stubborn ones in residence in the tower.
“It’s a simple question,” Bruce was implacable. “What have you eaten since you got up this morning?”
Steve’s jaw clenched. “With all due respect, doctor, I don’t see where that’s any of your business.”
“I’m surprised I need to remind you, Director Fury asked me to be the liaison between the Avengers and SHIELD Medical, so it is my business.” Bruce stopped directly in front of Steve. “And the way you avoided the question tells me that, whatever you’ve eaten today, it hasn’t been enough.
The two men locked eyes, but to Tony’s surprise, it was Steve that looked away first. “I don’t remember.”
Bruce silently watched him for a couple of minutes before nodding. “Okay.” He didn’t lift his eyes from Steve’s face. “JARVIS, give me a breakdown on Captain Rogers’ caloric intake during the last eight hours.”
It didn’t take long for Bruce to get a response. “Captain Rogers ingested approximately 150 calories, consisting of one piece of multigrain toast, at approximately 05:03 am.”
Bruce’s eyebrows went up. “That’s it?”
“You specified caloric intake, Dr. Banner.” JARVIS responded. “Captain Rogers also ingested approximately 11 ounces of water, which I did not report as the liquid provided no calories.”
Steve wasn’t the only one visibly upset at the report.
“Wait a minute,” Clint protested. “You mean you’re spying on everything we do? Is it measuring how much we crap too?”
“Tracking human defecation, both in quantity and frequency, is an excellent means of monitoring an individual’s health.” JARVIS responded.
Bruce was the only one who didn’t turn to glare at Tony.
“Stark, your explanation better be good,” Natasha growled. If looks could kill, Tony would have been dead right on the spot.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Tony lifted his hands as if warding off the evil stares. “I didn’t program JARVIS for anything remotely that intrusive. Even I’m not that kinky.”
“Sir is right,” JARVIS offered. “Such monitoring is beyond my normal parameters. However, in Captain Rogers’ case, Dr. Banner requested that I observe and note the captain’s caloric intake. Given Dr. Banner’s status as medical liaison, I acceded to his request.”
The rest of the group appeared mollified by the explanation, with one notable exception. Steve continued to glare. “And why do I get the special treatment?”
Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. “Because your latest physical showed that you dropped ten pounds and that is not acceptable.”
“Geez, Bruce, you’re gonna give the guy a body image complex.” Tony tried to diffuse the situation with humor, but it didn’t work. Both men ignored him.
“You have an incredibly fast metabolism,” Bruce’s voice softened. “It takes a lot of fuel to keep you going.”
“Tell me something that I don’t know,” Steve sounded as impatient as he looked. “I always eat after a mission.”
“But do you eat when there’s no mission, just training?” Bruce prompted. “And here’s something you might not know – if your body doesn’t get the fuel you need from external sources, then it starts stripping it from internal ones. It’s imperative for your health that you not let that happen.”
Clint snorted. “Not like he had even an ounce of fat on him before.” From his vantage point, Tony could see Natasha kick him on the shin. “What? Tell me you haven’t noticed how Steve fills out his uniform.”
“Our archer has a point,” Thor chimed in. “Captain, you ply your shield with expertise, but your primary weapon is your body – and weapons must be kept in prime condition to be of most benefit. I would not wish to see you go into battle unless you were at your best.”
If anything, Steve’s jaw clenched even more. “Are you saying I’m a danger to the team?”
“No, that’s not what he’s saying.” Natasha glared at Thor, but was gentler when she turned to Steve. “We just worry about you , is all.”
“I can’t believe we didn’t notice you haven’t been eating enough,” Pepper was taking the revelation personally. “I know that our grocery orders have quadrupled since the team moved in, but obviously that’s not enough. Tell me what you like to eat, Steve, and I’ll make sure we have it on hand.”
“I don’t need anything special,” Steve hesitated and Tony belatedly remembered that the man had lived through the Depression in his formative years and then wartime rationing as a young adult.
“Meat.” Thor banged on the table. “A warrior needs meat – and those prepackaged pastries.”
Pepper smiled at him. “Extra PopTarts, I’ve got it noted.”
“Carbohydrates are good for providing energy as well,” Natasha added. “Steve, do you like pasta?”
“Muscle Milk,” Clint suggested. “Stuff tastes like ass, but it works. Can’t have Cap fainting on us during a fight.”
“Don’t forget fruit,” Bruce stated. “And plenty of dairy. He needs calories, but they shouldn’t be empty ones.”
Steve’s shoulders were hunched and he looked from person to person, fists clenching and unclenching with each suggestion. Tony watched silently as the captain turned and quietly walked out, disappearing back into the elevator without any of his other teammates noticing. Wondering how long it would take until they figured out that the object of their intense focus was gone, Tony leaned back in his chair as suggestions continued to fly.
“And cooking lessons,” Pepper enthused. “We could bring in one of those celebrity chefs from TV to show us how to cook healthy meals. Steve, what do you think of that?” She looked around and frowned daintily. “Steve?”
“Where’d he go?” Clint looked around in vain.
Tony started clapping, only stopping when he had everyone’s attention. “Good job, troops. You scared off our fearless – and I do literally mean fearless – leader.”
“We were only trying to help,” Pepper looked stricken and, even though they were no longer romantically involved, Tony couldn’t stand to see that expression on her face.
“I know and I’m guessing that Cap knows that too, but he might have found all the help a little overwhelming,” Tony pointed out. “Besides, I think we all missed the main point.”
Clint cocked his head. “And that is?”
Tony shrugged. “Steve’s from the 1940s, food didn’t have as many preservatives then. I’m guessing that most things taste funny to him.”
Natasha looked at Thor. “Do you find it that way? Does the food here taste different than what you had on Earth before?”
“Before Loki, I had not visited Midgard in many years.” Thor replied. “I will admit that many of your foodstuffs have an odd, almost unnatural taste.” He grinned. “But for me, I find that pleasant.”
“For a textbook narcissist, you read people remarkably well.” Natasha gave Tony a look that was tinged with respect. “I’m impressed.”
“My genius knows no bounds,” Tony stood and bowed, ignoring the eye roll his statement caused from Clint. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna find our errant leader.”
“I shall join you,” Thor started to stand as well. “The captain carries many sorrows; I did not intend to add to his burden and wish to ask for his pardon.”
“That’s okay, big guy,” Tony put a hand on Thor’s shoulder, pressing him back into his chair. He glanced around at the others, seeing expression of contrition on their faces as well. “You can say you’re sorry later; I don’t think Steve needs to be crowded right now.”
The group was decidedly subdued as they watched Tony get in the elevator. He waved jauntily as the door shut, but let his confident expression fade after the doors shut. “Let me guess, J, he’s in the gym.”
“You would be correct, Sir.” JARVIS answered. If Tony didn’t know it was impossible, he would swear that the AI sounded contrite. “Was it inappropriate to provide Dr. Banner with the data that he requested?”
“Don’t sweat it, J.” Tony commented. “He is the Avengers’ doctor, God help him. In the future, though, if you have any doubts, ask me.”
“Noted, sir.”
The elevator reached the proper floor and Tony disembarked. The gym took up the entire floor, but was mostly quiet. He immediately heard the muffled sound of fists hitting leather and so Tony walked towards the corner where the punching bag was hung, stopping for a moment to admire the view. The way that the khaki pants stretched over the firm globes of the soldier’s ass was a thing of beauty.
“What do you want, Stark?” Steve didn’t turn from his rhythmic attack on the helpless bag.
Tony winced; like with Bruce earlier, they were back to last names and that wasn’t a good sign.
“The first day we met, you suggested I put on the suit and we go a few rounds.” Tony stood slightly to the side with his hands in his pockets. “Thought now might be as good a time as any.”
Steve stopped hitting the bag and glared at him. “Now?”
“The Punching Bag Humane Society called and threatened to bring you up on charges.” Tony quipped. “Can’t have that, think of how Fury would react to the bad PR.”
Decidedly unamused, Steve’s jaw clenched and his glare seemed to become more personally directed at Tony instead of the world in general. “Fine. Suit up.”
Honestly, Tony had expected to have to use more persuasion to get Steve to agree and he wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one that the captain had taken him up on his offer so easily. Still, he didn’t wait for the other man to change his mind. Tony’d come up with a practice version of his suit, one that would let him spar with his teammates with relative safety. The flight ability and strength were unmodified, but the weapons had been toned down enough that his opponent could tell if they’d been hit, but didn’t have the force to cause a true injury.
In addition to the practice suit, Tony had also developed a closet-like room where special robots assembled it on him. As a result, it took him less than two minutes to get ready. When he rejoined the captain, he found that Steve had left off pummeling the bag and was shadow boxing. Unfortunately, Tony didn’t have a chance to admire the fluidity of the other man’s movements; Steve had obviously been waiting for him and left off as soon as Tony approached.
“You ready?” Steve asked.
“Where’s your suit?” Tony asked. He felt a little overdressed compared to his teammate.
Steve shrugged. “Don’t need it for this.”
“Then I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever-. . .” Tony’s words broke off as Steve abruptly launched himself at him.
Tony’d been Iron Man for a couple of years and had been in a variety of fights, but he’d never done what was essentially hand to hand combat with someone who was suitless, but also fast and far better trained. He quickly found that Steve Rogers was no pushover. No doubt Tony could have hurt him badly had he gotten in a solid blow, but that was the whole problem. The captain was quick and agile, able to hit and get out of the way before Tony could get in a good response. He also dodged the watered down weapons that Tony fired with ease, causing Tony to mutter under his breath. He and JARVIS had some work ahead of them, designing updates to deal with the kind of opponent that Steve Rogers represented.
Finally, Steve was able to wrap his legs around Tony’s neck in a move that was so reminiscent of the Black Widow’s style that he only could have learned it from Natasha. In no time, Steve had used the leverage to flip Tony, Iron Man suit and all, until he was on his back and helpless as a June bug. A quick hand movement and Steve had removed Tony’s face plate.
Tony was tempted to make a sneaky move, like head-butting Steve, but ultimately decided against it. Maybe he would have done that had it been a normal sparring session, but it wasn’t. Given that Steve looked visibly more relaxed than he had before they started, Tony figured he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. “Uncle.”
Slightly out of breath, Steve slumped to the floor and leaned against a wall. Tony felt proud that he’d accomplished that much. With the soft whir of mechanical parts, he also managed to rise to a sitting position.
“Thanks.” Steve said, darting a look at Tony under sweat-heavy bangs. “I appreciate it.”
The suit didn’t do subtle movements like shrugs well, but Tony managed. “I didn’t do it for you, it was to save the punching bags, remember?”
Steve winced. “Yeah, right.”
Clearly, more needed to be said, but Tony didn’t feel up to it while wearing his suit of armor. Something was fundamentally wrong about being suited up when Steve was so very vulnerable. “Hold that thought.”
Tony didn’t wait for an answer, rising to his feet and making his way to the area where he could get the equipment off. It went a little slower than it had going on, mostly because one of the elbow joints had been bent a little in the fight. Tony was sporting a few new bruises, the result of rattling around in the armor while Steve had battered away at him.
From the way Tony figured, there was about a 50/50 chance that Steve would still be in the gym when he got done. He was gratified, therefore, to see the younger man waiting for him when he came back out. Tony walked over to him and joined him on the floor. For several minutes, the two men sat without speaking.
“I’m not made of glass and I don’t need to be coddled like a child.” Steve sounded more tired and confused than he did angry. When he turned his head towards Tony, his eyes looked far older than the rest of him did. “You’re not like the others, though. You don’t treat me like I’m about to break.”
Tony snorted. “Well, there’s no reason to. It’s not as if, to your point of view, you were just fighting in World War II, sacrificed yourself to save millions of innocent lives or lost everyone and everything you’d ever known thanks to one very long nap.”
Steve’s face fell. “Then you are just like the rest of the team.”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” Tony’s ignored the hitch in his breathing caused by Steve’s obvious disappointment in him. “I was tortured, hooked up to a car part to survive and ended up with a glorified battery in my chest. Bruce, he turns all non-jolly green giant whenever he gets pissed off, Clint got mind-controlled into being Loki’s bitch, Thor’s brother tried to kill him – twice. . . .”
“Enough, I get it,” Steve started to get up. “I should stop feeling sorry for myself.”
Tony grabbed him by the arm. “That’s not the point – and stop putting words into my mouth. I say enough stupid shit on my own without any help from you, thank you very much.”
Steve glared at spot where Tony’s hand held on to him and Tony got the hint. He let go, but to his relief, Steve settled back down onto the floor rather than leaving. “What is your point, then?”
“The point is that we’re all damaged, every single Avenger, in one way or another. But as someone said when the military was after Bruce’s ass, we’re a team. We have each other’s backs.” Tony watched as Steve swallowed heavily. “You know that. Hell, you taught me that. So what’s really going on here?”
“What do you mean?” Steve looked at him warily.
“You stepped in and shut General Ross down when he went after Bruce,” Tony explained. “When you found out that some of the SHIELD asshats were giving Clint a bad time about the Loki thing, you made sure to spar with Clint in the SHIELD gym to publically show your support for him. You stay up drinking with Thor, even though the booze doesn’t affect you, just so he won’t drink alone. So as the biggest mother hen on the team, why are you getting so pissy when anyone tries to reciprocate?”
“Being the leader means I’m supposed to look after my team,” Steve protested. Tony wasn’t buying it.
“Na-huh.” Tony shook his finger at Steve. “Never try to bullshit a bullshitter, Cap. I can see right through it.”
Steve sighed explosively and looked away. The younger man didn’t say anything, but that was all right. Contrary to popular belief, Tony could be patient when the situation required it – and this situation most definitely did. After a few minutes, his persistence was rewarded when Steve cracked.
“Have you seen pictures of me from. . . before?” Steve continued not looking at Tony while he asked the question.
“Before the serum?” Tony asked, careful to keep any flippant comments in check. When Steve nodded, he answered the question. “Yeah. You were a lot shorter.”
The laugh his careful remark invoked didn’t have any humor in it. “That’s one way to put it. I was downright scrawny. Sickly.”
Tony did some quick thinking; it wasn’t too hard to connect the dots. “Had your fill of coddling?”
Steve finally looked at him, jaw working with tension. “I was useless, Tony. Do you have any idea what it was like to have the most important war in history going on and be stuck on the sidelines? Even before that, my mother really could have used help in making ends meet, but instead of me being able to contribute to the household, most of the time she had to work even harder because I was sick all of the time.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Tony put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.
“Wasn’t it?” Steve’s tone was bitter. “I remember one doctor she took me to saying it was pointless to give me any medicine, that I’d just get sick again and again. He sent me out of the room to tell her that she should just prepare herself for me not to make it to adulthood, but I could hear him from the bench in the hallway.”
“Jesus.” Tony murmured softly.
“And then, after she died,” Steve continued. “It was the Depression and no one had any spare money to take care of an orphan that needed so much care. If it weren’t for Bucky, I wouldn’t have made it.”
Tony didn’t doubt that, but also knew that Steve wasn’t taking into consideration all of the story. “That and the fact that you’re the most stubborn person I ever met. Even as a kid, I doubt you were willing to just lay down and die.”
“No, I guess not.” Steve’s smile was small, but genuine. “But up until Dr. Erskine, no one ever thought I was capable of much. Even Bucky made it a point to get between me and any bullies.“
“And now that you’re not scrawny anymore, having people fussing over you brings back some bad memories and worse feelings.” Tony filled in the rest and Steve nodded. “Well, hate to tell you this, Cap, but you’re just gonna have to suck it up and take being cosseted like a man.”
“Excuse me?”
Tony grinned at him. “No one can accuse you of being sickly now.” He waved his hand to encompass all of Steve’s body. “I mean, trust me on this one, Cap, no one looks your physique and the first thing that pops into their mind is, ‘Gee, this guy is unwell.”
Steve eyed him warily. “I suppose not.”
“So there’s no way, not even subconsciously, that anyone is implying that you’re not pulling your own weight.” Tony continued with his line of thinking, even though he could tell it wasn’t making an impact yet. “Because you are – and then some.”
“I hope that’s the way that the others feel,” Steve admitted.
All of the Avengers had pitched in to help New Yorkers after the Chitauri attack, but Steve had been particularly dedicated. Not only did he lend his considerable strength to the clean-up efforts, but he’d also volunteered for searching for survivors and distributing food. That was on top of his liaison work with SHIELD and participating in training sessions with the other Avengers. All the activity was overkill, even for someone as patriotic as Steve, which led Tony to believe that the younger man might be using all of the frantic activity to fill his time so that he wouldn’t dwell on what he’d lost.
“That’s another one you’re gonna have to trust me on,” Tony assured him. “Slacking is the absolute last thing anyone, especially not an Avenger, would accuse you of.”
Steve looked away again and didn’t speak.
“Look, the reason Bruce started riding you about the food and the others jumped in the way they did is the same reason that you handed General Thunderass Ross his head on a silver platter when he came after Bruce.” Tony explained. “You saw a teammate in need and you moved to help. The rest of us, we can’t replace everything that you lost, but if we can make your life easier by finding things you want to eat or that remind you of home? That’s something we can wrap our heads around and so, yeah, we’re gonna help.”
“And I’ll just have to put up with it,” Steve’s voice held a trace of bitterness. “Because like Bruce said, I have a responsibility to my teammates to function at the best level I can and that means eating, even when I don’t like it.”
Tony put his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Hell, no, that’s not it at all. You’ll have to put up with it because you’re our teammate and that’s what teammates do - look out for each other. I couldn’t care a rat’s ass if Captain America starved himself, but my friend, Steve? I’d import the best chefs from all over the world if that’s what he needed to be comfortable.”
“Friend, huh?” Steve was blushing, but his gaze as he returned Tony’s was steady.
“Yeah, friend.” Tony smiled at the other man. “Who’d have thunk it?”
Steve smiled. “Thanks, Tony.”
“De nada.” Tony stood and offered a hand to Steve. The other man took it, although he obviously didn’t need help getting up. It might have been Tony’s imagination, but he thought Steve might have held on to his hand the barest of moments too long. “Just cut the rest of us a little slack, we’re not used to this teamwork thing. We’ll eventually figure out how to help without making you feel like you’re in Kindergarten again.”
“That would be great,” Steve ran his own through the back of his hair. “It’s kind of hard to be the leader when your teammates are treating you like a kid.”
“Well,” Tony drawled, “you are the youngest on the team. . . .”
Steve snorted. “If that’s the case, then why do I feel like I act the most mature?” He thought about it for a moment. “Except maybe for Pepper, but she’s not officially an Avenger.”
“Are you kidding?” Tony retorted, clapping Steve heartily on the back as they headed towards the exit. “Pepper’s organizational skills are super-human. The only reason she’s not an Avenger is that she’d make the rest of us look bad.”
It was a little rusty, like Steve hadn’t done it in a while, but Tony’s comment prompted a genuine laugh. “I guess that’s true.”
“Besides,” Tony stopped as they got out to the hallway. “You’re either the youngest old guy I’ve ever met or the oldest young guy. I can’t figure out which.”
Steve not only didn’t take offense at the comment, he actually seemed to consider it. “Does it matter?”
“S’pose not.” Tony walked started to walk away, but remembering how their last one-on-one conversation had ended, decided for a little payback.
“And Cap? The way you look in your uniform or anything else you wear?” Tony turned around and took his sweet time eyeing Steve up and down. By the time his gaze got back to the captain’s face, Steve’s ears were bright red. “Trust me, ain’t nobody mistaking you for a child. Especially not me.”
Turning his back on the other man as he sauntered off, Tony let his smirk break free.