The Sacrifice play, cutting the wire, whatever you wanted to call it. Tony Stark knew exactly what he was doing when he walked into the building. He knew the odds, the possible outcomes, and yet he waltzed right into that building. It wasn't until the entire complex collapsed that the team realized exactly what had happened.
"Stark, I'm sorry for what I said –" Steve began, hovering behind Tony as he worked. "Save it, Rogers. We both know what made us say those things." Tony said, proof that he wasn't completely oblivious. "You proved all of us wrong, though." Steve tried for a different angle. "And we both know I was the only one who could have pulled that off, I do what I have to." Stark fired back. He was not doing this now.
Natasha was the first to make the connection, when the battle had ended, and they were still standing despite threats of a fairly large bomb on the premises. "Tony, so help me if you're in that building ..." She ranted over their communications link. "You'll do what?" came the response, and Natasha was about to take a sigh of relief when Tony's question was followed by wet coughing. She frowned and turned to Steve.
After moving into the Tower, the team started to realize something about their teammate. Tony Stark had two faces, the one he wanted you to see, and what was really under that mask. Soon it became Tony, and no longer Stark. Soon it became nothing but first names between all of them. The trust that developed between them was nigh unbreakable.
Steve flagged down Clint, Thor and Bruce. The latter having reverted back to himself and was pulling on the pair of emergency pants that had been thrown to him. "Tony, what's your position?" Steve asked warily through his earpiece. "Buried under a few tons of brick and mortar, I think." Natasha snarled at his blasé attitude. She was picking her way over the rubble to get a clearer picture of where to start digging. "Status?" Steve plowed onward, a deep weight settling in his chest. "Not good, Steve." His words were followed by a series of wet coughs. "Details, Stark." Coulson barked, and Steve started. He hadn't noticed their handler approach. Coulson handed Bruce an earpiece and moved to stand beside Steve.
It was well agreed that Clint had a nasty habit of falling from perches, and for all of Tony's snark about it, Iron Man was there to catch Hawkeye each time. Tony and Steve were the only ones Hulk listened to in battle, and for the oddest reason, Tony always knew when Natasha needed backup. Not a team player, indeed.
Bruce paled, and the rest of the team did with him, as Tony listed off his status. Steve looked to Bruce and the doctor mutely shook his head. Steve paled further, and a string of violent Russian curses drifted from Natasha's direction. "We try." Steve declared after a minute, turning to see Natasha already picking off smaller bits of rubble. "Wait." Tony called and Steve halted in his tracks. "I need to talk to Bruce." Was followed by Tony murmuring to JARVIS and silence after. Steve surmised that Tony was speaking privately to Bruce, especially after he noticed Bruce take off to a secluded corner.
Slowly, the Avengers family grew to include significant others and Coulson himself. Steve began to think of his past less and less, while Clint slowly opened up more and more. Natasha's easy way with her partner grew to include the team. Thor's knowledge gap was slowly decreasing, and his enthusiasm at life was infectious. Bruce hid in his lab less, and it seemed as though Hulk was less angry, but Steve suspected part of that was due to the addition of Betty Ross to their family.
Natasha, Thor and Clint had started digging when abruptly Bruce hulked out. Steve started, but when the Hulk ambled over to the rubble and began digging, he realized it was most likely intentional. There was more control in the planned changes. "Tony?" Steve cautioned. "Right here." Steve frowned at how weak Tony sounded, and he couldn't help but recall how pale Bruce had looked and the mute shake of his head.
The first time anyone was seriously injured, it was Clint. It was the beginning of a SHIELD medical ritual that they never broke. They sat in turns, and always someone was there, keeping vigil. Steve hated it, he hated seeing his team get hurt, any one of them, and he did everything in his power to stop it, but it happened. And they made the best of it.
Steve recalled certain things from the war as he joined his team in digging. Keep them talking. "Tony?" His voice was no more than a grunt as he hefted a large piece of concrete. "Yeah?" Natasha caught his eye and he realized she knew what he was trying to do. His mind drew a blank on what to ask, but Natasha had caught on. "Tony, list JARVIS' specs." She said, pausing to assess their progress. He started to rattle of numbers and words that made little sense to Steve, but seemed to work for Natasha.
It was the first time any of them had been captured that Steve really realized how close they had become. Natasha had been doing a solo mission for SHIELD when she was taken, and the team informed two days later. Steve watched as Tony nearly swung at Fury and Clint sat there, as if frozen. He watched Tony storm out and lock himself in his lab, and Steve hoped that this was not the breaking point. He was relieved when a few hours later Tony Stark emerged with a triumphant look on his face and proclaimed he had a location. They recovered their team mate only slightly battered, and Steve could do nothing but sigh in relief.
All of them kept Tony talking as long as they could, trying to keep him conscious. An hour in and he started slurring his words, prompting them to work faster. They were losing daylight fast. A half hour later and they knew he had lost the battle to stay awake. Still, they heard his labored breathing, and Steve allowed himself to hope, that maybe, just maybe, they could pull this off.
Steve was proud of the growth he'd seen. He was more than pleased how a rag-tag group of people had formed a bond as strong as theirs. How seamlessly they worked in battle, how each seemed an extension of each other. Countless battles fought, countless foes brought to their knees. And yet he knew, somehow, they would always be needed. There would always be a place for him and his team, and as much as he would love to see complete peace, he knew that it was unrealistic.
Steve barely noticed it when the communications link went silent. Dead. Wrong word, he thought. He looked up and could see the change in his team, how their effort was no longer rescue, but recovery. And yet they did not slacken the pace. He felt no joy, as hours later, the Hulk roared triumphantly. He had no heart to explain to the confused creature. Clint took that solemn duty without even a word. Let no one ever say Tony Stark was not a hero, Steve thought.