{Author's Note: Should I have been working on my ongoing X-Men fic instead of writing this? Maybe. Should I have been studying instead of doing either of those things? Probably. But Endgame is fast approaching and this wouldn't get out of my head, so alas, here we are.}
Six months had passed since what had become known as the Avengers Civil War, at least by those with a high enough clearance level to know more or less what had occurred with the onset of the Sokovia Accords. Six months later, and he was finally back at the compound, which was bustling with activity, but somehow, to Steve, it still felt empty. Or maybe he was the one who was empty.
It had taken some time (hence the six-month time lapse), but eventually someone with a better understanding of the law than him, had negotiated a compromise on their behalf, adjusting some key provisions of the Accords enough that the Rogues, himself included, were comfortable with signing. They would all be on a tight leash for a while, but nothing compared to what had been initially proposed.
And Bucky, of course, hadn't been included in their little arrangement. Wakanda continued to offer him asylum, and it was no longer a secret that he was residing there, but it was clear that it would be a long time (if ever) before Bucky could return to America. As part of the compromise with the Rogues, the U.S. Government had agreed to refrain from seeking Bucky's extradition from the Wakandans, and as great of progress as that had seemed a month or so ago when the negotiations were underway, suddenly it felt miniscule. Because Steve could really use a friend right now. Someone who wouldn't look at him the way everyone who truly knew what had happened six months ago did.
Some forgave him (Vision) or said it wasn't his fault (Bucky) because they had all played a role in the outcome. But that didn't matter to Steve. No matter how many people made excuses for him or forgave him, even when the government forgave him, it would never be enough.
Because he would never forgive himself.
A man was dead. His friend was dead.
And it was all his fault.
He knew he had a heart condition. He knew his suit was all but drained of power. It didn't matter if he had truly believed that he was smart enough to make his way out of there. It didn't matter that Steve didn't know his communication system was broken.
He should've checked. He should've made sure that he had gotten up again. That someone had come for him. That he was really okay.
But Steve didn't.
And because he didn't . . .
Tony Stark was dead.
He wasn't dead because of some extraterrestrial attack, or because of Hydra, or because of some failed science experiment. He was dead because Captain America Steve Rogers had left him to die.
Steve ran one hand over his face, closing his eyes as he did so, but when he opened them, everything was still the same.
Sometime later, Steve found himself wandering the compound. He figured he would be doing that a lot from now on. He would never quite be able to stay still in this place, not when so much of it screamed Tony. So he planned to stay away as often as he could, whether that meant going on missions or visiting Bucky, as long as it meant avoiding this place where the genius that was Tony Stark felt so very alive, which made the fact that he wasn't . . . hurt so much more.
Inevitably though, Steve would have to return to this place every so often per the Accords to "check in," and so he wandered . . . because what else could he do?
It was during his wandering that—despite his wish to avoid the places that reminded him most of Tony Stark—he found himself near Tony's old lab. And because of that, he ran into someone who had every right to scream at him, to hit him, to kill him really, but he did none of those things, because Colonel Rhodes was a good man, even if Steve could no longer be considered one.
"Rh—" Steve cleared his throat. "Rhodey."
Stiffing at the sound of his name, the colonel replied coolly "Captain."
Not Cap, nor Steve. They would never be there again. Steve had made sure of that when he'd driven his shield into Rhodey's best friend's chest.
Steve didn't know how to respond. What do you say to the man whose best friend you've killed? And unlike most people, Rhodey knew exactly what Steve had done. He wanted to tell him he was sorry. That he didn't mean for it to happen, but it wouldn't change anything. And it wouldn't make Rhodey feel better, so why should Steve ask the man who had been a much better friend to Tony, than Steve ever had been, to listen to Steve's meaningless apologies in order to make Steve feel better.
"I haven't seen you around." Steve said finally.
"I've been busy." said Rhodey shortly. "And you're not exactly on the top of my list of people to see."
"Of-of course." Steve quickly replied. "I know—I didn't mean—I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here. And you've obviously been busy with the changes to the Accords and—"
"That's not why I've been busy." Responded Rhodey stone-faced without further explanation.
Steve didn't know what Rhodey meant by that and he wasn't about to ask, but he could imagine. Along with Pepper (who god, Steve hoped he never had to face), Rhodey had probably had to handle Tony's funeral (which Steve had not been invited to for obvious reasons), Stark Industries, and so much more that Tony had left behind.
Despite having just determined that it would not do him nor Rhodey any good, Steve couldn't help himself. He had to say something. "I'm sorry Rhodey. About…about what happened I didn't mean—"
"Stop." said Rhodey holding up hand as he took a step closer to Steve. "Don't ask for my forgiveness Captain. I won't give it, and it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not the one whose forgiveness you need."
He was right, of course. Steve knew he was right. He had only minutes ago reached that same conclusion in his head. But he was never going to forgive himself, so why should he expect Rhodey to?
Steve was just about to make an excuse to leave, when FRIDAY's voice interrupted the two men.
"Colonel Rhodes, they have arrived, shall I let them know you are on your way down?"
Steve had forgotten about F.R.I.D.A.Y., even though he shouldn't have been surprised by her presence. This was Tony's space after all. Nevertheless, his initial surprise at hearing the familiar voice temporarily distracted him from wondering whose arrival she was announcing.
"Yes, I'm—" Rhodey stopped mid-sentence, silent for a minute as if considering. "Actually, send them up."
"Yes, sir." F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied obediently.
And then the silence resumed.
"I should go." Steve said finally, turning to leave.
"No." said Rhodey surprisingly commanding. "I think you should stay. I think you need to stay. To…" for the first time the weight of losing Tony was plainly displayed on Colonel Rhodes' face. But after another second he recovered and continued. "To fully understand what you did."
Once again, Steve didn't know what the man meant, but if he wanted him to stay to meet whoever it was that had arrived. Well, Steve could do that much for the other man at least.
"Wait here." Said Rhodey. It clearly wasn't a request, so Steve stayed frozen near the edge of the room, as Rhodey turned and headed toward the elevator. He made it about half-way across the room when the elevator dinged, and it opened to reveal an older African American woman weighed down with a large shopping bag in one hand and, to Steve's surprise, a rather pale-skinned little boy with curly brown hair and enormous dark brown eyes holding onto the other.
The boy, who couldn't have been older than six, spotted Rhodey right away and, letting go of the old woman's hand, darted from the elevator before the doors were even all the way open.
"Uncle Rhodey! Uncle Rhodey!" he shouted as he ran to said man, who scooped him up in his arm in a manner that implied it was a usual occurrence.
"Hey kiddo!" answered Rhodey with a smile. His demeanor had completely changed from the cold detachment Steve had received to utter joy now that the kid was resting on one of his arms.
"Did you have a good day?" asked Rhodey.
"Uh huh! Mrs. Rhodes took me to the new Star Wars movie and for ice cream and the Lego Store and she let me buy three boxes of Legos! And one of them is Star Wars themed!" answered the kid, nearly bouncing out of Rhodey's arms in his excitement.
Rhodey laughed. "Wow! That does sound like an amazing day. A lot better than mine."
"It was an amazing day, Jimmy." Said the old woman as she approached Rhodey (at a much slower pace than the boy had). "I wish you could have joined us, but I'm not going to complain about having this little angel all to myself."
"I'm glad you had fun, Mama." Said Rhodey.
So the woman was Rhodey's mother . . . but then who was the boy? He had called Rhodey
'Uncle,' but they didn't exactly look related . . . though the kid seemed vaguely familiar for some reason.
"I did. Anytime I can spend time with my favorite grandson is time well spent. Speaking of whom" said the woman turning to look at the boy in her son's arms. She was rather short, so she actually had to look up a bit to make eye contact. "What did I tell you to call me, honey? I'm tired of this 'Mrs. Rhodes,' nonsense, ya hear?"
"Sorry Memaw." The boy replied quietly as he gave her a bashful smile.
"Oh sweetie, you don't need to apologize. I just don't want you forget that I'm your grandma, okay?" replied the women ruffling the boy's hair a bit.
The little boy nodded. And not for the first time, Steve felt like he was intruding, so he stood silently at the edge of the room, nearly out of sight around the corner, waiting to be beckoned by Rhodey if he ever decided he wanted him to come over.
"Good." Replied the elder Rhodes. And then she stood on her tippy toes to give both the boy and her son a kiss on the cheek.
"Alright, Happy is waiting to take me to book club. I trust that you can manage these." She said dropping the bag that most likely held Legos at Rhodey's feet. "But I'll see you both Sunday for brunch."
"I think we'll have to check our schedules." Answered Rhodey, clearly kidding.
His mother narrowed her eyes at the Colonel. "Don't you sass your mother, boy."
"Sorry, Mama." Rhodey said quickly. "We wouldn't miss it."
"That's better." Replied Mrs. Rhodes brightening again and waving to both her son and grandson "Bye Jimmy. Bye Darling."
"Bye Memaw!" Called the boy happily waving over Rhodey's shoulder.
When Mrs. Rhodes was gone, Rhodey turned his attention back to the boy in his arms. "So she let you have ice cream and three boxes of Legos, huh?"
"Yea! I couldn't decide which one I wanted and then she just said I could get all three." Announced the boy like it was the most shocking thing in the entire world.
Rhodey chuckled again. "That's what grandma's are for kid. I mean, if it was four boxes, we'd have a problem, but I guess three is okay."
"Oh . . . we can take them back. I don't need all of them." Said the boy, the smile dropping from his face.
"Oh no, buddy. I was kidding. You deserve all the boxes. Sorry, I—I'm still figuring this out. I'm not great with kid-jokes, yet. I guess."
"I think you tell great jokes Uncle Rhodey!" answered the boy his face lighting up once more, clearly not understanding whatever deeper meaning Rhodey was getting at.
"Well thanks, kiddo. I try." Replied Rhodey softly as he looked on fondly at the boy in his arms who had taken to fiddling with a pen in Rhodey's shirt pocket before he looked at Rhodey again.
"Can I open one of the Lego boxes now? I want to build the Millennium Falcon, so I can try to make it actually fly! I can't wait to show Ned if I can manage it!"
Steve felt a smile form on his lips. Surprisingly, he actually did know what the Millennium Falcon was (he'd manage to see the older Star Wars films before . . . everything went down), but making it fly seemed ambitious, especially for a five-year-old.
Rhodey smiled again. The kid seemed to have that effect on him. "Not just yet, but you can open them all first thing when we get home. I promise. You'll have to show Pepper when you make it fly too because I know you'll find a way, and she'll be very impressed. But first, I want you to meet someone."
And with that, Rhodey headed toward Steve. The boy looked at him curiously as they approached, and for some reason, Steve felt nervous under the little boy's gaze.
"Peter, this is Steve." Said Rhodey nearly boring holes into Steve's head with the intensity of his gaze. "Steve, this is Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark."
And with that simple introduction, Steve's world nearly imploded as it had when he had found out that Tony Stark was dead. It was a miracle that he didn't fall to his knees right then and there. The room was spinning, the floor tilting, but somehow, with the help of the nearby wall, Steve remained on his feet, and looked into the eyes of Peter Stark. Eyes that suddenly looked all too familiar. Because the last time he had seen those eyes, they had been looking up at him with utter disdain and betrayal. And the last time those eyes that were so similar to the ones in front of him had seen anything at all, they'd been gazing out at a snowy landscape (or so Steve assumed), all alone as their owner died.
"Uncle Rhodey, I thought we weren't supposed to tell people my full name?" Peter questioned with a worried whisper.
"You're right, Pete, but it's okay to tell Steve, he's not going to tell anyone you're a Stark. Are you Steve?" said Rhodey turning his gaze on the other man.
Steve could only stare back, still very much in shock, until the little boy pulled his attention away from Rhodey.
"You're Captain America." Peter whispered again, as if that too were a secret, his voice laced with awe.
And the sound of that awe nearly shattered Steve's resolve to remain on his feet once more.
Of course the kid didn't know Captain America, Steve, had murdered his father because how do you tell a little kid that America's golden boy killed America's hero, or more importantly his son's hero?
"H-hi Peter." Steve finally managed to choke out despite the tightness in his throat.
When Steve didn't say anything Peter spoke up once more. "Uncle Rhodey has your shield in our house. Don't you need it?" the boy asked puzzled.
Steve just barely managed to shake his head. A little horrified at the thought that the weapon he had used to kill Peter's father was under the same roof as the boy. But in the end, Tony had wanted the shield. And Steve had passed that message along to a lawyer or someone important in a suit, so at some point someone must've told Rhodey that, and the man was just honoring his dead friend's last wish.
The boy looked confused "Oh. Do you not want to fight anymore? Because that's okay! My daddy didn't want to fight anymore either, but he had to stop some bad guys . . ." said Peter trailing off, a shadow of sadness falling over his face before he perked up again. "But really, it's okay if you don't want to fight! My daddy was an engineer and a scientist too, and that's what I want to be when I grow up! He said those jobs are just as important as people who fly around in capes." Peter giggled. "But I'm not supposed to tell Thor that if I ever meet him."
Steve just stared at the little boy who was reminding him more and more of his father. He tried to smile at Peter, but if his face changed at all, it probably just looked like a grimace.
"Alright Peter." Said Rhodey sadly. "Why don't you go see if you can spot any jets taking off from the window in the next room for a minute while I talk to the Captain. You'll have a better view of the compound's runway from there, and maybe you'll get some ideas of how to make your Millennium Falcon fly."
"Okay! And it's not my Millennium Falcon Uncle Rhodey. It's Han Solo's!" Peter corrected as Rhodey set him down.
Rhodey raised his arms in placating manner "My bad, kiddo."
Peter just laughed. "That's okay. Nice to meet you Mr. Steve, Captain, sir." Peter said ever-respectfully, even adding a little salute.
Steve managed a "Y-you too, Peter."
And then Peter bolted from the room, still full of energy.
"Look after him F.R.I.D.A.Y. please." Rhodey announced to the AI.
"Of course, sir. Young Master Peter is always my top priority." Replied F.R.I.D.A.Y. obediently, and perhaps even with a touch of fondness in her voice.
After Rhodey's request and F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s subsequent response, the room went silent again.
It was Steve who broke it. "He—he—Tony—he has a son. He never—why didn't he say?"
"Well, given that someone he thought was his friend left him injured and alone in a wasteland, I think it's safe to say that he had a right not to trust too many people with Peter's existence. And I feel the same, but seeing as Peter's my responsibility now, I made the executive decision that you needed to know about him, so you could truly understand who exactly you took away. You didn't just take a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and a hero from this world. You took away a boy's father." Rhodey said to Steve, his voice firm, his face unflinching. "So do you get it now? The kid's the only one who can forgive you. Not that he knows what happened. But he will one day. . . . For now, he just knows that his dad left to fight the bad guys like he always had, but this time, he didn't come back."
"I…I…" Can't breathe. As a matter of fact, Steve wondered if he would ever be able to breathe again. "Y-you have custody? What about the boy's—Peter's mother?"
"Oh she's dead too. Dead and gone before Peter even had a chance to form any memories of her. And then he lost his uncle shortly after that. And you know what? I wonder, in a few years, how much will Peter remember of his father?"
Steve felt the tears that he had been holding back since he found out who Peter was began to fall, but Rhodey's face remained impassive as ever, even as Steve pleaded with him. "I wish I could bring him back. I would give anything to bring him back."
"Yea. Well, so would I, but we both know that neither of us have that power."
And with that, Rhodey retrieved the shopping bag from the ground and headed toward where Peter had exited, leaving the room and Steve behind.
When he was gone, Steve did finally collapse. He leaned against the wall with his face in his hands.
Peter and Rhodey must've left the building from a different way than they had entered because Steve never noticed them pass by again, which was fortunate for him because it was hours before he managed to drag himself to his feet, carrying even more guilt than he had when he had woken up that morning.
{Author's Note: Alright, so I know the trope that Tony dies after his fight with Steve and Bucky has been done before, but I couldn't help myself. Obviously Peter has been aged down quite a bit in this fic. I put him at about seven or eight. Steve guesses around five, since Peter is just a little guy. Also, because of this age change, Spiderman wasn't involved in the Civil War. I kind of like to imagine that Peter still has his powers right now though because that would be interesting for Rhodey to have to deal with, but I don't have a solid opinion about one way or the other. And as a side note, in this little world, Pepper still sees Peter frequently, she's just not his guardian—that's Rhodey. Oh and I wanted Peter to still have Parker in his name, so in my head his mom was May Parker, and Ben Parker was her brother. They both died at some point when Peter was a baby or toddler, so that's why Tony had custody. Last thing, I debated on the title for this fic a lot and maybe I'll change it later, but for now, the title comes from the Johnny Cash song "Hung My Head," which felt appropriate. Alright, I think that's everything. Drop me a question if you want clarification about anything, or a review if you feel like it, as those are always appreciated!}