After the Dust Settles

Chapter 1

Tony could hear T'Challa's smile through his sleek SI phone he held pressed to his ear. Even across the world in Wakanda, he could picture the smug smile that would be stretching across the King's face. Tony nearly wished he were there to smack it off him.

It had been almost a year and a half since they left and finally, finally, the exiled Avengers would soon be able to return to New York. T'Challa and Tony had worked together for the last 12 months, along with Stark Industries finest lawyers, to insure that everything was perfect. Or as least as perfect as this shitstorm of a situation could be. Tony had to admit, he was actually surprised it had come together this well, considering where they had started.

So he should be... What? What reaction should he be having?

He rolled his eyes hearing T'Challa's low chuckle. "You must be feeling victory, at least, my friend? After all, is this not what we have been striving towards?"

Tony sighed and drew a breath, buying him more time to sort out his conflicted muddled thoughts as he considered his answer. "Yes, it is. Man, I still can't believe that you were able to draw me into this."

"My friend," came the accented reply, "I know what this has cost you. Although I cannot say that I know the pain you feel, I can tell you that after everything I have witnessed and heard, I know it must be great. I am…" he hesitated, "most impressed with you. To face the demons is difficult enough, but to overcome them as you have, that is strength of another kind. Over our time I have grown quite fond of you, and your friendship is greatly appreciated. You are honorable, no matter what anyone might say."

Tony didn't have to guess who T'Challa was referring to. Silence had been one of the first requirements he had given the King when they started their journey. None of the exiled Avengers could know that Tony had a hand in anything being done. If they did, they probably wouldn't trust the outcome. T'Challa reluctantly agreed to Tony's stipulation, though he had many times expressed his unhappiness with the situation. So they had kept it a secret, meeting when the King was in New York, video and phone chats when he was back in Wakanda.

Tony again shook his head at his friend. "Alright Kat-hmandu, that will be quite enough of that. You know how I can't stand the sentimental mush."

If Tony was being truthful, the kindness from the King meant the world to him. Tony would have expected that with everything the King had seen and heard, he would have found the man beneath the armor more trouble that he was worth. There were very few people in his life these days who willingly spent time with him, let alone praise his friendship or honor. It was almost unsettling. He simply didn't know how to respond.

He had Rhodey and Pepper, of course, but that was different. Rhodey was his best friend, and had been for as long as Tony could remember. Rhodey hadn't deserted him, even in Afghanistan the man had been in the helicopters that had rescued him, never giving up on the idea Tony was alive and would make it through.

The other who had shown the same dedication to him was Pepper. They had been though too much together for either of them to walk out of the others life. Even when they had finally realized that things wouldn't work out between them romantically, they had remained close. She was always there for him, and for that he was endlessly grateful. She even remained at Stark Industries and handled everything they both knew Tony didn't have the patience for. She deserved the best, Tony wasn't that, and he never would be. They had let each other go and they loved each other all the more for it.

For the first month afterwards, most of his time was spent either drunk, high out of his mind, or a mix of both. He thought this time of his life was over, but when everything fell apart, so did his carefully constructed walls. The public, his old "teammates", all of them, they were right, he was nothing more than a man in a suit. No matter what he did, how he tried to change, or how long he kept it up, people always thought the same things. He was done trying to prove them wrong. He still functioned just as well in his lab, building and inventing, just letting his mind work. What did it matter if the rest of his life was falling apart?

With Pepper moved out and Rhodey so busy there were only a handful of people he really needed to worry about. He did his damn best to make sure that Peter never saw what a mess he was. For the first few months that had meant cutting off his communication with the kid, though it hurt him to do it.

Peter was far from a dumb kid though and the media had made sure nearly everyone saw a few of his more public scenes. They hadn't talked about it together, but Tony had listened to every message Peter had left him, many of them were just the kid rambling about things happening in his life, with friends, school, and his aunt. There were a few though, where Peter would say he hoped that he didn't let what people said get to him, that Tony was "really great man, just really really great, like SO good…and cool as shit. C-can I say that? It's too late, I said it. Shit. Oh Shit-I said it again." and Peter felt like he "needed to make sure Tony heard someone say it". Tony wondered if Peter knew that he treasured those messages, saving them on FRIDAY'S private server.

After he started to put his shattered pieces back together he had apologized and started to keep in regular contact with Peter, though he was careful. If Peter called while he was in a bad way he had FRIDAY make up an excuse and, after he had pulled himself together, he would return the call immediately. Peter was one of the very few people he still felt the need to put a show on for, because the kid was simply good. He was too good and if he ever saw the disappointment everyone else seemed to look at him with in Peter's expressive eyes, he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

Laura Barton and her three kids along with Scott Lang's family were the other bright lights in his life, though they hadn't been at first. During the "Civil War" he had made a judgement call that might go down in history as the only one he had ever made without it blowing up in his face. He had arranged for the Barton/Lang clan to be relocated before anyone could even think to use them. For the first months, while he was climbing out of the bottom of a Jack Daniels bottle, he had them hidden away with special protection. Only after things started to change in his life did he decide that they deserved more than to hide out for god only knew how long. He had them moved into their own secure floor of the newly remodeled Compound.

Tony thought back to nearly 14 months ago when T'Challa had approached him after yet another UN hearing dealing with the aftereffects of what the media had dubbed "Civil War". Things had been at an all time low.

1 Year and 2 Months Ago

Tony couldn't breathe. His lungs felt crushed and his heart was beating too fast. It was as though his body was screaming for air while simultaneously forgetting how to actually take a breath to correct the problem.

The whole thing was ridiculous, he had told the UN panel over and over again that he had no information or progress further than what he had already testified. What did they want him to do make something up? He had told them everything. He knew Ross was involved, the slippery man had made it clear he believed Tony knew more than he had let on. He was right, unfortunately, but that didn't mean he would get anything out of him. He had told them all he ever would on the subject.

He hadn't told them how things had all gone to hell in the bunker in Siberia. He hadn't told them how Ste-Rogers, had nearly killed him with the shield Tony's own father had made for him. He hadn't told them that he was left there, powerless and betrayed by a man he had considered family.

Oh God, breathe, just breathe. He could do this. Just finish and get out. Finish and then you can go home to the Compound.

Upon finishing he had stood up so quickly he saw black spots color his vision and after exiting the council room made a b-line for the nearest restroom. On the outside he portrayed the calm cool Tony Stark that the media and public knew so well. On the inside, he was nearly breaking.

After splashing water on his face and trying to ground himself by clutching the sides of the sink so hard his knuckles turned while, he stayed hunched over the white porcelain trying to control his breathing.

"I find that I can ground myself to the present when I focus on one sense at a time."

Tony's head snapped up so quickly he was almost afraid he would have whiplash.

"King T'Challa." he greeted as cool and relaxed as he could manage in the moment. He gathered himself and pushed off the sink to stand up from his hunched position. By the time he had fully turned to face the African King he again assumed the Tony Stark image of calm and confidence. "What an interesting place for a meeting. I do believe I answered all of the questions the panel had for me for the day, however if you have more you can speak to my people about setting up another time to drill me for more useless information."

Flashing his best winning smile, he was about to brush past the King and leave when the King's next words stopped him in his tracks.

"I saw the whole thing, you know. The video. Mission report, December 16, 1991."

He felt paralyzed. He was standing nearly shoulder to shoulder with the King, though they faced opposite directions. His hand stayed on the heavy wood of the bathroom door, almost ready to push it open, but he unable to do so. His mind was running a mile per minute.

He had known the King had been there, at the bunker, of course, since it had been the King who had captured Zemo. He would have had to have been. Tony was also quite sure that the only thing that had saved him had been the backup the King must have called, since his suit was completely disabled and he had no way to call anyone, let alone walk away from it himself. His injuries had been more severe than he thought. Tony could only guess now that it had indeed been T'Challa who kept the response team of soldiers who were sent to take Zemo into custody away from the bunker where he had laid.

He had thought Vision had been the only one to see him like that. Tony had only fleeting memories of Vision speaking to him, telling him that he would be alright and other platitudes, before picking him up off the freezing ground to carry him into the aircraft he had hidden in the valley of the mountain. T'Challa must have sent a message to Vision.

And yet, T'Challa had not told the panel about the video, the words Tony had shared with Ste- his former teammate-, or the condition Tony had been left in.

What could he say, now faced with the Wakandan who knew too much, and yet did not set fire to Tony's life even further by telling anyone? Just as he was trying to scramble for something close to a response, the King spoke again.

"I will not share the information I witnessed, if that is your worry. It is not by place, nor my intention to share something of such a personal nature."

Tony swallowed thickly before saying, "I appreciate that." He kept his eyes steadfastly focused on the door, but he felt and T'Challa turn towards him. "You may not believe my words, Mr. Stark, but I would like you to know you have a friend in me, should you wish. I know what I saw in that miserable place. I also know what I did not see. Though I saw the deepest kind of betrayal, I did not see a man hell bent on killing another in retribution. I have seen the capabilities of your suit, I know you did not use it to it's full potential."

Tony didn't move his head, but let his eyes slide to his left and land on T'Challa as he continued to speak.

"I do not wish to keep you; I know you are a busy man. I would like to ask you a favor, before you go, if I may?"

Tony could only again give a nod, nearly imperceptible.

T'Challa gave a small smile before continuing, "I know that you have concerns about the Accords. I do as well. I would propose that you and I review them together, whenever time can be made for such things. I know us both to be quite busy men, but I believe that we are both aware of the issues that lie within the Accords we signed our names to. Signing them as they were proved to be a necessary evil in the moments of destruction we were facing, however now that the moment has passed, it is time to re-asses and amend them so that they may serve as they were intended, as we were intended. I believe that you and I are well equipped to do such a thing. You do not need to give me your answer now, you may think on it and get back to me."

Tony couldn't believe what he was hearing, what this man was asking of him. Why would he be interested in anything Tony had to say? Why would he think Tony would want anything more to do with the document?

"You want me to help you make changes to the Accords? You want me to partner with you?" Tony suddenly felt a swell of emotions he had been trying to desperately to contain. This man next to him was honestly asking this of him? Did he understand what he was asking Tony to do, to feel? If he had truly been in the bunker in Siberia and seen the things he claimed, how did he have the nerve to stand here and ask this of him?

"I do."

He whipped around to face the King, who didn't shrink even slightly from the challenge blazing in Tony's eyes. They were standing very close now and Tony was sure the man would be able to see the cracks in his soul.

T'Challa's voice was quiet, but no less strong when he leaned forward slightly and said, "I do believe that we can do some good here, Mr. Stark. Is that not what we have always endeavored for? I know the rumors about you. The rumors you let be passed around. Though I do wonder why you never bother to correct them, I do not wonder if every action you take, every life you save, every piece of Stark technology you create, is not your own way of proving to yourself that the rumors are lies."

Tony felt like he had been slapped. He glanced away from T'Challa's eyes that obviously saw too much, knew too much, though how he wasn't sure. He again fought the large lump in his throat. "Not for myself." It came out as barely more than a whisper.

T'Challa's eyes grew softer and he tilted his head marginally as he answered, "No, I thought perhaps not. For your team, then?"

"There is no team." He shot back quickly, his eyes snapping back to the King's. "Only a few broken individuals trying to salvage what was left behind."

T'Challa acknowledged this with yet another tiny nod. "And yet, what was left behind has the foundations to build upon it, does it not?"

Enough Tony thought. Enough. His mind was a war at the moment and he knew that if he wanted any chance of leaving this godforsaken bathroom without causing an international spectacle between the United States and Wakanda he had to take his chance and exit now.

"Your Highness, I am afraid you have lost me. It is a long journey past the hoards of rabid reporters and UN Delegates to my car, so I hope you can understand that I must cut our conversation short. As you said, we are both busy men." With that he turned and pushed the heavy polished wood door open with a strength he didn't feel and held his head high as he exited the building.