st_arkravinghazelnut | Stars, Stripes, and Iron

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Stars, Stripes, and Iron

Tony Stark was not a religious man, which would come as a surprise to approximately no one. The offerings of The Temple were for strict documentation purposes in his endeavor to map the hotel to his internal database, but he found himself sticking around for the aesthetics. He was a seasoned traveler, so much so that that novelty of the unique worldly sights had long since worn out. But being trapped in a singular hotel for over a month with nothing but the kitschy aesthetic or woods or desert in any given direction to look at, the dignified sanctity of The Temple wasn't an unwelcome sight.

Tony wiped a bit of sweat from his brow and sought shade in shadows of the interior. Summer, late as it was, was staying out its welcome. He unzipped his loose sweater and cinched it around his waist. Many more days of not operating on a caloric deficit and he hoped he didn't feel the need to carry around another layer wherever he went.

Taking a swig off his water bottle, Tony wandered the common area. The first thing to catch his eye were the Memorials erected. Ever curious, he wandered closer and inspected the plaques--names of people who had "checked out?" Interesting. He leaned in, taking a note of each name via the scanning function of his nanoparticle composite glasses.

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Having only been at the Madonna Inn for a few days, there were a lot of places that Steve Rogers hadn't explored. He spent most of that first day trying to get out, only to walk for several hours in one direction, and then just be back at the Inn. Trying to figure out the magic of this place was exhausting, so Steve had... well, he'd put his escape plans on pause for a bit in lieu of exploring and getting his bearings. He could come back to it later.

Then Steve saw the Temple, and headed straight for it. Peggy was at the back of his mind--how he wished he'd had more chance to say goodbye. More closure. For the moment, though, he thought he could light a candle in her honor. So he headed into the building to look around, and caught sight of a familiar man standing near some plaques on the wall.

"Tony!" He said, relieved and excited to see his friend and teammate. "Gosh, I'm relieved to see you."

The voice that broke the tranquility of the temple rang through the arches like bells--a clear, unmistakable signaling.

There should have been shock, dread, or some lingering rage that would spring to life upon hearing that voice. If this encounter had happened a week ago, perhaps there would have been. Yet, the only phrase that Tony could attach to his emotions was a sense of having some sort of unspoken expectations met. Thor, Peter, Loki, Barnes--it all felt like they were leading up to this.

Were there words? Too many. None came to mind. He'd let one of his few possessions that he brought with him do the talking.

His hand went to his pocket, producing a dark object as he turned. He aimed it at Steve.

"Thought about calling." Tony flipped open the object--a phone that displayed the one number in its register. Of course the damn, ancient thing still had a charge. "Didn't. Almost did. Looks like it wasn't necessary."

Steve, who had picked up his pace to approach Tony jovially, was stopped dead at the sight of his friend turning, producing something from his pocket, aiming it at Steve. Steve halted, hands moving up and to each side as if placating a man with a gun. But it wasn't a gun, was it? It was a cell phone. What was going on? Confusion furrowed Steve's brow and he found he was holding his breath--just for a moment.

After a moment Steve pulled his own phone from his pocket. "I did." Steve's phone still had about fifteen percent battery, but the screen turned on, and it would be over soon. He'd called Tony, Nat, Fury... he'd even called Sharon. But none of the numbers worked. Tony was his first call, though. Did that count for something.

"How long have you been here?" Steve asked, cautiously. "When did you come from?"

"A month. December 15th, 2017." Tony's expression was frozen in a mask of calm. His mind had entered analytical mode as he took Steve Rogers in.

Steve was before him, clearly. He had greeted him nothing but cordially. The man was polite, but always authentic. Before any talk of the Accords, likely.

Tony's chest gave a tug, and he swallowed it back down as it tried to catch in his throat. Was this really going to be his reaction to the man he had been wanting to meet most of all yet prayed to God he'd never have to see again?

Steve blinked at Tony. This was so weird. He'd seen Tony just before he'd ended up here. Not a month ago, not in December of 2017.

So Tony was from his, Steve's, future. And something happened between them--or in general--that changed the way Tony saw Steve. What was it? What could Steve do to make amends?

"You're from... eighteen months after me." Over a year. So much could happen in a year.

"What happened, Tony?" Steve asked, taking another step forward. Calm. Placating.

Perceptive as always, and not afraid to show it. Classic Rogers. Damn it.

As Steve made his slow approach, that lump sunk coldly in his gut. His adrenaline was starting to pump, but he refused to give. He still had his pride, and a desire to not alienate Captain America now that he had him. This was his chance. A chance to convene, plan for the future, especially now that he knew Steve lived on in the wake of the war with Thanos.

Despite that, there was a minute trembling in his fingers. He folded them behind his back. Taking a deep breath, Tony summoned every good memory he had of Steve--it was easy to forget there was a point before things were bad.

Steve, fighting at his side, trusting him to have his back without fail.

Steve, drinking with him like a pair of regular men, making bets on who could lift Thor's hammer.

Steve, stalwart, leaving Tony alone with the Accords and taking his principles with him.

Steve, ever trustworthy, confessing the truth about Barnes.

Steve, on top of him, driving the shield his father crafted into his chest--

Tony blinked hard and took a step back, his thigh bumping one of the plaques.

Tony was there one moment, and then he was gone. Not physically gone, but... Tony obviously went away somewhere, lost in his thoughts. Steve took another cautious step forward, this time frowning even deeper with concern.

"Tony?" Steve spoke the word gently--a reminder of who he was, where they were. "Whatever it is, we can get through this together."

Get through this, he says. Together, he says. The sentiment unleashed a cascade of emotion that blended together as a flash of sheer fury. At Rogers, at himself, at everything. Tony hid it behind a little chuckle.

"Yeah. It's you." He flipped the device closed. "Before asking any questions, you're here worrying about others. God." Steve's concern felt like the worst kind of insult. It wasn't the fault of the man before him, yet it was.

'Neither of you asked for this.' The annoying voice reminded him. He exhaled the tension building up.

"I'm making a promise to you right now, Rogers. I'm going to be one-hundred percent honest. Just the facts. You want a heart to heart, there's plenty of time for that later." Tony tossed his hands up. "We're not going anywhere."

Steve was definitely Steve. He hadn't known that his validity was in question until Tony decided it really was him. Then Steve nodded. Of course he was worried about others--he was worried about Tony. His friend and teammate. Why wouldn't he be?

"Okay." Steve said the word slowly, calmly. He figured that he would keep calm, keep his voice low. He didn't have to pretend to care, or pretend to be listening carefully. Those things were given when it came to Steve Rogers.

"Tell me."

'Just the facts.' Telling Thor was the practice run. Now came the true test. Tony's eyes scanned the interior for other forms of life of the non-supernatural kind. Enchanted as this space was, he would have taken a ghost or two over prying ears.

"The Accords. If you're from when you say you are, you should know." Tony re-assumed the mask. His tone was business-like, but offhand, just like old times.

If only.

"We had...discourse. Didn't end well." Tony chewed on the words but didn't let himself wait too long to say them. "Avengers splintered. Poof. Kaput. History."

Steve folded his arms across his chest and leaned back on one hip as he listened to Tony. His brow started in a normal position, but by the end of Tony's couple of sentences, it was furrowed with both confusion and sadness.

The Avengers... gone? How could that be? How could they--meaning, Tony and Steve--let that happen?

"I... I don't understand."

"Me neither. And I was there." Tony's jaw worked harshly, and he broke away from Steve's earnest gaze for a few seconds before forcing himself to hold it.

Just the facts.

"I wanted us to preserve us in some form. You didn't want a leash. That wasn't the reason we broke up--we--The Avengers. Not the whole one. President of Wakanda gets dusted, the Winter Soldier-" Tony's eyes narrowed, "-gets framed. You don't abide. For reasons I am sure you're well aware of."

The Winter Soldier. Steve knew all about the Winter Soldier. Bucky. He'd been looking for his friend for a long time. Between adventures with the Avengers, trying not to let the world fall apart, trying to find all the bad guys and feeling the burden of that pressure sitting on his shoulders. All of their shoulders.

"What do you mean framed?" Steve asked, trying to make heads and tails of this whole story. Seemed like there were a lot of things Tony wasn't saying. Things Steve would probably need to know to figure it all out.

"Framed by a man with a plan to split up the team. Sokovian citizen. Didn't appreciate the turn of events with his country--who can blame him, really? He went after Barnes because he knew you'd become a fugitive for his sake." Tony's arms were folded tightly, taking Steve in. Every microexpression, every movement.

"Barnes has plenty of blood on his hands, but King T'Chaka wasn't among them." A long silence followed. Tony's gaze was utterly expectant. "Rogers. You know. I know you do. So tell me."

Well, thank God for that. Steve didn't like the idea that Bucky had any blood on his hands, let alone the King of Wakanda. Steve knew that Bucky wasn't in his right mind. Someone else was controlling him, Steve knew this. And now that Bucky was out, Steve was going to do his best to make sure that Bucky was free from whatever weight was on his shoulders.

"Know?" Steve asked, honestly in the dark. "What am I supposed to know?"

Tony narrowed his eyes. The nauseating rage from that dark day, Tony had been suppressing admirably, but it began crawling up his throat and demanding satisfaction. He swallowed.

"Maria Stark. Howard Stark."

This was going to come out eventually. Steve hadn't known for that long that The Winter Soldier had been the one to kill Tony's parents, but he'd known long enough that he should have said something to his friend about it.

"Oh." He said, softly. "Yes, I know."

That cold fury dissipated at Steve's admission, but only slightly. "You thought you were shielding me somehow. Right?"

The question was rhetorical. He could recount Steve's final letter word-for-word.

"That's--that's what you do best. So good they named a damned organization with its hooks in every world power after you. Rogers--look. When I got the truth out of you, it ended with me on the ground and you absconding with Barnes to god-knows-where. That's not what the world needs."

"No. It's not what the world needs, and it's certainly not what we need right now. You and I are in this together, and," Steve couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle that was more stress relief than amusement. "Thank God we are. There isn't anyone in the world I'd rather be trapped in this place with than you." Tony could figure a way out of this place. If anyone could do it, Tony could.

They'd been partners on the team. Tony was the brains of the operation--him and Bruce together. Steve may have had a few leadership skills, but when it came to solving problems, that's where Tony's strengths lay.

"So tell me what I have to do to start making things right between us again."

Tony turned his head away on reflex at Steve's proclamation and then let it fall well back to suck a breath in through his teeth. Was he going soft in his years? If this had been five years prior he would have laughed in Steve's face out of sheer indignation and concempt for the man's relentless selflessness.

"Where I'm from? Jury's out. Where you're headed? There's hope. Hence why I'm bothering at all." He let his chin fall to level a look at the taller man. "Trust me. That's what I need."

His throat suddenly clenched as the next words entered his head. The devil on his shoulder held his pitchfork to his tongue, refusing to let Tony say them, but he spat it out.

"I need you."

Well, at least that wasn't a no, or a get out. There was still room for their friendship, and that was all Steve could hope for. He wanted them to be okay, wanted them to work together. Actually, more than anything, he wanted Tony to understand that it wasn't Bucky who did those horrible things. It was Hydra. It was the monsters who kidnapped him, mutilated him, manipulated him, and weaponized him.

Baby steps.

"I do. I trust you." Steve nodded, meeting Tony's eyes. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." Even if he had a choice, he wouldn't.

"Yeah. None of us are. Hence the rub." Tony took a slow step forward, then another. Part of him couldn't believe that Steve Rogers was here--that he was tangible.

That they had a second chance.

He extended his hand. "Captain."

Steve reached forward to clap his hand into Tony's. It felt good to shake his friend's hand.

"Stark." He said, then broke into a little smile. For the first time since arriving to this place, he was starting to feel like this was home.

As Tony brought his hand back, his elbow brushed against his pocket, reminded of the weight of Rogers' parting gift. His hand twitched, tempted to return it to the man before him, but it remained still. After all, this wasn't the same man who gave it to him.

And that was for the best. It had to be.

"Lunch?" Tony shrugged, breaking the moment of silence in the peaceful temple. "On me."

"Lunch sounds great." Steve smiled over at Tony. It was a soft, tentative smile. He was hopeful that they'd get back to the way things were. Or maybe they could be even better friends. Steve didn't want to have secrets anymore. They had to work together, to trust one another.

"Lead the way." He said, and then turned to follow his friend to the dining hall.

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Stars, Stripes, and Iron

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