I Won't Know You Any More- Felix Riebl
When Steve walked out on Tony with Peter in his arms, it was hard to do, but an easy decision. Tony was destructive and hurt people around him. The tiny cast on Peter's arm was proof of that. The physical injuries healed much too quickly to show, but the mental and emotional scars ran deep for Steve.
Tony cared- Steve knew that- but it didn't stop him from locking himself in the workshop for hours- no days- at a time. Never answering when Steve came knocking. The door opened for Bruce, for Natasha, for Pepper, for everyone but Steve.
Steve should have fought harder for a house rather than staying in Stark Tower. A place where Tony didn't have ultimate control over everything.
The question was, did Tony care enough?
"Da?" Peter asked, one night.
"He's busy, Peter," Steve replied softly, as he stacked another block.
Steve felt pathetic. Currently, his life consisted of two things, caring for Peter and fighting crime. No social life. No one talk to.
"Where's Tony?" Pepper asked, marching into the suite.
"He's in the lab, I tried earlier and the door won't-"
Steve was cut off by the Pepper's heels clicking across the floor. The door slid open when she pressed her palm against it.
Steve blinked and forced the rising emotions down.
"How long has been like that?" Steve wondered out loud.
"Three months, four days, six hours and 47 seconds," JARVIS replied crisply.
"That was a rhetorical question," Steven called out.
JARVIS didn't reply. Steve continued stacking blocks with Peter until Peter's bed time. He slept alone in bed that night.
When Tony had brought the machine upstairs, to show Steve proudly- as if Steve was his father, Steve had thought it would work. And naively that it there trouble would be all over. But it exploded and now Peter has a tiny cast on his arm with the Avengers' names scrawled on it.
Thor's in bold caps. Clint's loop scrawl. Natasha's near illegible cursive. Bruce's precise writing.
Everyone had been blatantly ignoring Tony's involvement in the matter. They had been more focussed on making sure Peter and Steve were okay. Trying to make a mole hill out of a mountain. For Steve's sake.
PETER, YOU'RE INJURY IS ONE OF A WARRIOR. WEAR IT WITH PRIDE
Steve had refused to let Tony come near Peter for a few nights after that.
The drinking was another thing. It would be better some weeks, but then out of control for months. Tony would party and stay out late. Steve, more often that not, slept on the floor beside Peter's crib, unable to deal with the smell of alcohol or another man or a woman's scent on Tony.
Peter's presence was soothing. Thanks to Peter, Steve knew he wasn't worthless and someone needed him and actually appreciated it.
"Steve," Natasha said lightly from the doorway.
"Why is he sleeping in here?" Clint asked worriedly.
"Tony must be being a dick again," Bruce replied.
"Wake up, Steve," Natasha tried again.
Steve eyes blinked open blearily. He hadn't been sleeping, rather laying on the cold floor of Peter's nursery. He stretched his tight muscles and sat up. Peter was staring at him from the crib.
"You were sleeping on the floor again," Natasha pointed out.
"This has happened more than once?" Clint asked wildly.
Bruce gave Clint a pointed look, shutting him up.
"Do you need to talk?" Bruce questioned.
"Next time," Steve said, trying to sound pleasant and normal not miserable and alone, "just drape a blanket over me."
Nobody said a word. But every time it happened afterwards, Steve found a blanket over him and a pillow under his head.
Tony sometimes refused to touch Steve too, when Steve did sleep in the bed. He'd get another blanket and curl up in the corner. He'd shove Steve violently away when he tried to come close, offering no explanation and a blank expression on his face.
Tony started to forget things too. Birthdays, anniversaries, dates, meetings. When he did arrive, he was harried and out of sorts and never helpful, only petulant and needy.
Then Peter started to display his magnificent gifts. Tony hadn't even cared. Professor Xavier and Magneto came down personally to see Peter, Steve had made fast friends with the telepath and slowly gained a mutual respect for Magneto.
"He's a mutant," Xavier laughed. "He has a groovy mutation."
Steve had laughed for the first time in months after hearing Xavier say that.
"Really, Charles?" Magneto asked from his position crouched on the floor, watching Peter curiously.
"He's welcome at our school," Xavier said.
"He's much too young for school right now," Steve replied.
"Any mutant can visit, even if they are outside of schooling age," Xavier said.
Steve looked at Peter and smiled as he started to easily scale a wall. Magneto seemed to be watching the child carefully, with an odd mixture of scientific interest and the look people get when seeing any child.
"Erik won't let him fall- if he does," Xavier assured him.
"I know," Steve said easily.
Xavier studied him carefully. Steve didn't need help to know that Xavier was reading his thoughts.
"The offer extends to you as well," Steve was surprised when he heard Magneto say it and not Xavier.
"Excuse me?" Steve asked quietly.
"You've had some genetic modification," Magneto explained. "Man-made or not. You're somewhat of a mutant too."
"Even if you weren't, you're still welcome anytime," Charles cut in before Magneto can get to his 'mutants are the superior being speech.' "My doors will always be open to you Steve."
Charles looked at Steve with sadness in his eyes. Steve glanced away to watch Peter some more.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "But I'm fine."
Magneto and Charles exchanged a look before saying their goodbyes and leaving.
Steve was having trouble dealing with everything.
It took a while before Steve actually realized it, but Tony's behaviour was slowly destroying him.
There was a time when Steve could look past these things but Peter was in their lives now. Steve couldn't let Tony hurt Peter, even if by accident.
Before, Steve could ignore the drinking and the smells. Before, at the end of the day, Tony would slip into the bed and curl off to the side. Even though Steve died a little on the inside each time. Steve wanted Peter to grow up in a happy and full family. While their family now may be full, it could never be happy when Tony and Steve could no longer communicate.
Peter had gone through two other families in his short life. He needed to have a stable one. Steve couldn't deny him that. He wanted to give Peter everything his mother had given him and more.
Steve needed to take a stand against Tony. For Peter.
And for himself.
Then one night Steve came home after a three day assignment- it had been a few weeks after the explosion and the three days had been Tony's redemption time to prove he could take care of Peter- to Peter crying loudly in his room. Steve marched down to the workshop, fist ready to bang on the door, when he saw it was open and the workshop empty. Steve walked upstairs to Peter and scooped him up, trying to settle his son.
When Peter's wailing quieted- Steve heard it. The giggling of a woman and Tony's low murmur. Coming from the bedroom. Steve and Tony's bedroom.
Steve gently put Peter back in his bed and stormed in. He opened the door so roughly, the door came out of its hinges.
"Steve!" Pepper gasped and standing up off the bed, wrapping the bed sheet around her, shocked before tuning to Tony. "I thought you said he wasn't coming home for three days!"
"I finished the assignment early," Steve murmured softly.
Tony gaped openly.
"I should go," Pepper said.
"No," Steve replied, swallowing hard. "I'll go, sorry."
Steve could hear in his head, Bucky and Peggy's voices.
'Why the hell are you apologizing!' Bucky yelled. 'He should be on his knees begging for forgiveness!'
'This isn't your fault,' Peggy soothed.
Steve went back to Peter's room and placed several things in a bag. He swung the bag over his shoulder and picked Peter up. The baby was clearly unsettled by Steve's behaviour.
"It's alright," Steve said, less for Peter and more for himself. "It's all going to be alright."
He held Peter tightly in the spot for a few moments.
"JARVIS?"
"Yes, sir?" JARVIS replied immediately.
"Call a cab please," Steve said.
"Certainly," JARVIS said.
Steve stepped out of the Peter's room and into the main room of the suite. It looked cold and empty. Like when Steve had first moved in. The warm, homey feeling Steve had worked so hard to achieve had vanished.
Steve crossed quickly, unable to look at the empty room that had once been the warmest, happiest places in the suite. He hadn't removed his shoes or jacket since entering the suite. Steve quickly bundled Peter up. The baby looked up at Steve with almost understanding eyes.
'Why are you sad? Why are we leaving?' was what Peter's look projected. Steve's heart continued to shatter.
"Steve," Tony called.
He wasn't wearing his shirt. The arc reactor shining brightly, taunting Steve. So many nights he had used it as a comforting presence. It mocked him now.
"I'm leaving Tony. I'll be back tomorrow to get some more things. I don't know if I'm coming back. I don't know where I'm going either," Steve babbled.
"Steve," Tony said again.
Steve refused to meet his eyes. The eyes that no longer seemed warm and filled with energy, at least when they were focused on Steve.
"I don't know what happened. I don't know if it's just me or if it's you," Steve said.
'IT'S TONY,' Peggy cried loudly.
Steve clutched head, feeling a headache coming on. Which was strange, he never had one since the serum had been injected.
"I know," Tony said as if it would fix the world.
Steve didn't know what it meant, but he turned around ready to leave.
"I hoped it wouldn't end like this," Steve said.
"You always knew it would though," Tony murmured.
"I did," Steve replied quietly. "I thought that we could work through it."
"I'm Tony Stark, I'm not meant for this kind of stuff."
Even after everything, it still hurt that Tony referred to their relationship, their family, as 'this kind of stuff.'
"I know," Steve murmured. "I don't regret the good times. I just wish I had the foresight to see how quickly it would spin out of control."
"You could have asked," Tony said.
"No," Steve muttered. "I couldn't have."
"Bye, Steve," Tony said, dismissing everything and then, with a little more tenderness, "Goodbye Peter."
Steve was too tired to let it bother him. It all felt like when they first met, hands at each other's throats.
"Da!" Peter said, reaching out to Tony.
"Clean up your act," Steve said, "and you can take of Peter too."
Tony didn't reply and Steve left the suite. Peter began to cry quietly in the elevator. Steve stood, staring at the doors, breathing heavily. His heart seemed to be beating a million beats per minute.
"Your cab has arrived," JARVIS informed him when the elevator stopped.
"Thank you JARVIS," Steve said as he stepped out. "This is a goodbye to you too then."
"You presence will be missed," JARVIS said, and for an A.I. it sounded sincere and heartfelt.
Steve quickly slid through the lobby, ignoring the receptionist's look, and into the back of cab.
"Where to?" the cabbie asked.
Steve sighed deeply. He didn't know where he was going just yet. The plan was being written two seconds after everything happened.
"My doors will always be open to you, Steve."
The sentence echoed much to loudly in his mind.
"Hello?" the cabbie asked gruffly. "You're going to need to tell me a place to go."
"Westchester. To Xavier's School," Steve said quickly.
"That's quite a drive," the cabbie said. "You sure?"
"No," Steve replied before adding quickly. "But I'll be able to pay you whatever it takes."
The cabbie shrugged and drove off. Steve leaned against the window and stared back at Stark Tower. A pang of longing for what was once his home ran through his mind.
"It's an ugly tower anyway," Steve declared.
"Agreed," the cabbie said.
Steve found himself laughing a little. Peter was still whimpering quietly but Steve held him to his chest.
"It's alright, Peter. We'll find someplace better. Where we are wanted."
