Chapter Text
Tony had fallen asleep on the couch again. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, really, especially not after a stressful day. A rough mission, or a particularly difficult project usually led to Tony passing out before he could reach his bedroom. Now, he had more than a few reasons to be stressed. After all, the downfall of the Avengers wasn’t exactly something they had walked away from without a care in the world. Tony lay utterly still, body curled towards Tasha as she brushed her fingers through his hair lazily, watching over him and counting every breath he took. Moments like this brought back memories for her. Dark memories that neither had ever shared with anyone else. Sleeping in small, cramped closets, trying their best to stay hidden. She remembered once when they hid away in a crate, and she had to sleep in shifts to make sure no one would find them. Things were a little bit easier now, though honestly, not by much.
Suddenly, Tony shifted in his sleep and sat up.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Tasha greeted in a song-song tone, and her lips curled into a smile.
Tony grunted and rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, whatever,” He yawned, and his mouth opened so wide that it made his jaw hurt. “What time is it?”
“Five.”
“In the morning?” Tony’s brows knitted together, and he checked his pockets for his phone.
“Yep.”
“You been watching me the whole time?”
“Yeah. You talk a lot in your sleep,” Tasha shook her head, and Tony rolled his eyes at her.
“I do not.”
“Nat, turn off the turkey,” She replied in a mocking, groggy tone, and Tony shoved at her arm.
“I did not say that!”
Tasha giggled, and Tony was starting to wonder if he had, in fact, been rambling about turkeys in his sleep.
“Steve wants to talk to you,” Tasha kept her smile poised, but there was a tentative glint in her eyes.
Tony let out a playful groan. “He’s such an old man. Who wakes up this early in the morning to talk?”
“You know, that’s why he punches you.”
“Uh, no, he punches me because he’s a jerk who likes punching things,” Tony rubbed his hands over his face, and shook his head, trying to wake himself up more.
“Try not to get hit. I’m not getting between you two every time you fight.”
“But Tasha,” Tony pouted at her and whined then grinned. “Relax, I’m a very durable guy.”
“You’d almost have to be.”
Tony frowned and looked around the room. It was a little odd, being a guest, but he also kind of liked it. After the mess with the Accords, it wasn’t safe for the team to stay in the States, which meant they had all left while Tony stayed behind. Wakanda wouldn’t extradite the Avengers. Or, former Avengers, rather. It was safe for them there.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Tony went to answer. Tasha watched carefully, ready for a fight despite how tired she was. Tony pulled open the door, and there stood Steve. He gave a curt little nod, looking every bit like a teenager awaiting a scolding.
“Stark.”
“Can you just call me Tony? ‘Stark’ makes me feel like I’m in trouble,” Tony paused. “Am I in trouble?”
“Not yet. I wanted to talk,” Steve cast a quick glance at Tasha, then back to Tony. “You know, alone?”
“Oh, I see how it is,” Tasha spoke up, looking playfully offended. “Fine, but if you make a mess on my couch…”
Tony laughed, and Steve shook his head with a fond smile.
“We’ll clean it up.”
“You’d better,” She gave them both a look, pointing from her eyes to them, and then went down the hall, back to her room. Steve waited a moment before stepping in, and pushed his hands into his pockets.
“I umm, about Zemo…”
“I forgive you,” Tony cut in, and closed the door behind Steve to give them some privacy.
“No, that’s not what I was gonna say.”
“Oh, well then I take my forgiveness back. Drink?”
“You got anything good?”
“Uhh, of course,” Tony replied like it should have been obvious, and he walked over to the bar, though all the liquor bottles there were mostly for show. Wakandans weren’t in the habit of keeping alcohol just laying around without an occasion. Tony opened the mini-fridge, freshly stocked with soft drinks and juices.
“Prune, to help your digestion?”
Steve pursed his lips, and gave Tony an un-amused look. He took the hint, and held out a small bottle of orange and carrot instead.
“There, you old fart,” Tony grabbed a bottle of water for himself, and sat across from Steve at the bar.
“Hey, show your elders some respect,” Steve took the juice, but didn’t open it right away. “Okay, I am a little sorry about the mess with Zemo. Only a little.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know you if you were all the way sorry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tony stopped and looked at Steve. “Seriously? You’re going to give that?”
“This is bigger than me not telling you how your parents died, Tony. Fury knew about that, Tasha knew, and I’m starting to wonder how you didn’t know sooner.”
Tony shrugged and took a quick gulp of his water. “I’m lucky, I guess.”
“Tony,” Steve leaned on the bar, watching Tony with a solemn look. “Nobody knew about you.”