Journal Books, an avengers fanfic

Ever since Tony was a kid, there was a box. Small, brown, and made of cardboard, kept in a small closet in the hall. When Tony was eleven, he asked his father about the box constantly, and after much deliberation, Howard finally told him, "In this box are the possessions of a brave man." He explained, opening the box and showing his son. "Back before you were born, during the war, there was a soldier. Steve Rogers was his name. He was a brave man, willing to risk his life for the good of the rest. Helped with the war, but above all, he was my friend. One day I hope to find him and return these to him." With that, he put the box back in the closet and returned to work.

Tony, being an eleven year old boy, let curiosity get the best of him. He quietly reopened the closet, pulled out a few books, and brought them to his room. He opened up the first book, one with a blue hard cover, and worn pages. Turning through the pages, he noticed little notes in his father's handwriting. Just corrections and notes to further explain something the book mentioned. He found this very interesting, his father writing note for the other man's benefit. He pulled a pen out of his nightstand, and flipped back to the front cover.

"Dean Captain,
My father told me about the box today. He said you were a war hero, and he talks about you a lot. He says he regrets not being able to find you, I bet I could. How lost could one man be anyway?
- Tony Stark"

He looked over the message he wrote to check for errors, and when he was pleased with what was written, he closed the book, and brought it and the others back to the box.

It was one of those rare occasions that Howard was out of his lab eating dinner with his family. Tony took advantage of the situation to ask about the Captain. Sure, his father had talked about the Captain before, but now he actually cares.

"So the Captain….was he smart? Like us?"

Howard looked up from his plate, "Hmm? Not like us, no, but he was a different kind of smart. He had a special way of thinking about everything. He thought that people could do what they put their hearts to. He thought in strategy and optimism while we think in math and science." Tony thought on this for the rest of the evening.

The next day, after he had gotten home from his school, he went into the closet to grab the book. Sitting down on his bed, he pulled out a pen and opened the book.

"Dear Captain,
Dad says you're smart. Not smart like me, but a good smart. When I find you, you'll have to teach me. I could teach you too if you'd like.
- Tony Stark"

This time he added the date to the entry and did the same for the one before it. This was becoming a regular, writing little messages to the man lost.

Making sure to fill in all the available space, he wrote on the covers, blank pages and the margins on the tops, sides and bottoms of all the pages. Sometimes, when he disagreed with his father, there would be multiple entries per day of a long length. Other times, when he had plans for projects, not only would he write up blueprints, but he'd also explain them in detail to 'The Captain' in entries complete with scaled down sketches of the project.

As the months went by, Tony and Howard would disagree more and more, so as a result, he would confide in the books more and more. Not after long, when Tony was thirteen, all the books had become filled. So he took the liberty of giving new books to the Captain's collection. The first time he added a new book to the collection he made a special entry.

"Hey Cap,
I've filled up all the other books, so I got you new. When I say 'new', I really mean 'These have been sitting on my shelf for some time, and I really don't need them anymore, so you can have it.'
- Tony"

Just like with every time he made an entry, he dated it, and then filed the book away until the next time he wrote. Overall, he gave the Captain four more books, each one getting an introductory message.

When Tony was fifteen, he made his last entry. The sixth book was never completely filled, in fact, the entries ended on page 113. He and his father had gotten into a big argument. The subject? Everything.

"Captain,
Remember how you were friends with my father? I don't understand how you could like that man, let alone be friends with him. In fact, I guess I could, he never shuts up about you. It's funny, the more he talks about you, the more I dislike you.
I've been using you for years. An imaginary friend for when I needed comforting, but I'm done now. I've outgrown these books, the pointless entries, and I've outgrown you.
He's never here, you know. When he actually is, he spends the whole time in his labs. On the off chance he comes up to associate with the family, he speaks only of work. Sometimes he'll acknowledge my existence, and every time I think he'll finally be proud of me, but I'm proved wrong every time. He'll nod, tell me that I have to work so much more to even come close to become as great as him. That wouldn't bother me as much, if he didn't find a way to bring you into the conversation. 'Well back when I was in the war..' 'Reminds me of that time Steve..' I don't understand, but it never fails.
Putting all the variables together, it's not hard to figure out that I come only third to you and his work. I'm supposed to be his son, but I'm fighting for the light with Mr. Captain America, and I'm losing to someone he'll never even see again!"

After he was done venting, he slammed the book shut, threw it into the box and shut the closet.

He never really thought back on the box, or the many books. He didn't even check the closet, and soon the whole thing was forgotten. When he moved and got a place of his own, forgetting the contents, he brought the box with him. It's been in the house so long, it must be important, right? The box went unchecked into one of the closets on the main floor of his house.

Some years later, he's part of this team, and now he somehow saved the world. Now Christmas was drawing near, and he needed gifts. Sure, he'd gotten gifts for everyone, almost everyone. What could he get for someone has probably the dullest personality he's every come across, and can't work technology without having someone walk him through it every step of the way.

"JARVIS, Any ideas?"

"There is that box in the hall. It's full of his old belongings."

Tony sat forward and snapped, "Excellent!" He made his way to the closet, pulled out the box and blew off the dust that's been collecting over the years. He wrapped it, with the help of JARVIS, on the tag, he wrote out, "Merry Christmas, Cap –Howard Stark,"

When Christmas came, he saved Steve's present for last, "This has been in my possession since before I was born, figured it's time you got it back." With that, Steve reluctantly peeled off the paper and opened the box. He smiled; he thought he'd never see any of this stuff again.

As they day went on, he looked through his new found possessions, taking joy at things he once favoured. Everyone had migrated back to where they usually send their time; he went back to his quarters and picked up a book. When he flipped it open, he noticed a message with a date.

Tony? Tony Stark? He smirked, put the book down and went through, looking for the earliest date in the box. When he found it, he was immediately captivated. He read through all of the books, and to his dismay, Tony didn't think of his father all that highly. He'd read through all of the book, and when he got to page 113 of the sixth, he knew that was the last one. Though, he couldn't help but feel somewhat directly responsible for relationship problems. Being the man he was, he wanted to fix things.

The Captain made his way through the tower to find Tony in one of his many labs. "I wanted to thank you again," he said.

"What? Oh the box? It's not that big of a deal, it's yours anyway dude."

"Yes, but still, it's the thought. I actually wanted to ask you something?" Tony raised a brow, and Steve continued, "Your dad?" All of Tony's interest fled him; he huffed and went back to his work, ignoring the Captain's question. "Tony?" he asked again.

"Just drop it, Rogers."

"Alright," Steve replied as he placed one of the books on the table. Tony looked confused at first, so open Steve flipped the book to page 113 and began to read,

" 'Captain,
Remember how you were friends with my father? I don't understand how you could like that man, let alone be friends with him. In fact, I guess I could, he never shuts up about you. It's funny, the more he talks about you, the more I dislike you.
I've been using you for years. An imaginary friend for when I needed comforting, but I'm done now. I've outgrown these books, the pointless entries, and I've outgrown you…'

He would have kept going, but Tony said "Stop," and Steve looked up from the book to him, "Where did you get that?"

The book closed and Steve replied, "It was in my box, I read them all, though."

"I'll get new ones to replace them for you,"

"No, I like these ones, they have sentimental value now. It's like a window into the past, they past you. And you know how much I like the past," He said with a smile. "It all seemed to go downhill as you got older. I'm sorry for that, but it's sweet how even though you didn't know who, or what you were writing to, you still had an outlet. If you didn't have these to vent, you'd probably be worse off. Even though you didn't mean to at the time, I'm glad you chose to confide in me."

There was a faint smile on Tony's face now, "Well of course, Captain America is always there to save the day, isn't he?"