Tony had dragged the entire team into his basement to show off his Iron Man suits one through… whatever number he was on now. Steve glanced around as Tony chattered away with pride.
"Each individual suit has a select space for reprogramming and repairs and…"
The super soldier tuned him out. Tony dragged Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and an enthusiastic Thor down to the end on the left to show off the newest baby in his nursery. The blond soldier sighed and rubbed his eyes.
"And this is my newest mark..."
Steve tried to remember if he had slept last night. Had he gone to the gym?
"The next one…"
Steve looked at the glass next to him. His eyes widened and his breath came in with a sting.
"I know, pretty impressive…"
The suit was a massive silver junk pile. No, no it was black. Colors flashed in Steve's eyes; black, all black. Both of its hands had silver fire rings around them. No, they were black flamethrowers. Machine guns where attached. It was still, it was moving, it was firing. No. Not again. Please. He didn't even have his shield. Fire and pain coursed through him. Bullets pierced his shoulder, rattled around him, around the train. The black shined over mask and slotted soul sucking mouth cover. The suit fired and fired. Suddenly it went down.
"Steve!"
God save me please. Bucky hung, trying to hold the rail.
"Steve!"
The super soldier's burned hands gripped the train door and met the man's eyes. Fear. Bucky was never afraid, but he was now.
"Help! Steve!"
He reached out to him. To Bucky, his friend, the only living creature he had a long lasting affection for. The ground spun by in a dizzying twist of time and fate. The cliff seemed to plunge on forever and the soldiers hung right over it. Ice wind bit, and stung, and laughed at them for it.
"Steven Rogers!"
Bucky lifted his own crispy hand, reaching.
"Steve!"
The metal broke in slow motion; the creaking scream filled the frigid air, like the awful witch of the west. The wind had him and spun Bucky away; down, down, down. Going on forever until he hit the dark nothingness at the bottom of the Clift.
"Steve?"
The soldier clung to the door. His eyes watered. Bucky, call to me to come with you, don't leave me, please! He put down his head on the cruel metal. He wanted to quit, for the first time, in that moment. Let go, the wind teased. It'd be so easy.
"Steve!"
A hand clamped his shoulder hard and he jerked. Natasha took a step back. Steve drew a shaking breath. The team was looking at him in shock. His hand jerked up to his face, wiping the tears that clung to his cheeks.
"Spangles?" Tony looked at the suit and back at him.
The blond turned suddenly and squeezed past Thor and restrained himself from running until he passed the door. Steve ran, holding his eyes. If he hit a wall, if he fell, it didn't matter. Run. To his room, the gym, anywhere. Just get away. Bucky flashed in front of his eyes. The gym.
"Failure." He snarled at himself.
There wasn't time to change. The poor punching bags wouldn't stand a chance. Steve staggered into the door frame. He pushed the door open madly before realizing there was a knob. He turned it crushing the handle in his palm.
"Bucky, Peggy." Steve whispered.
No tears in the army. There was a bag already hanging. One of the special ones Tony made. The razor edged Stark symbol made that clear.
"Stark, Howard."
He lunged forward brokenly.
No tears. Smash.
In the Military. Smash.
Peggy, the Stork Club. Crunch.
Howard. Fondue. Hit.
Bucky. Hit.
2012. Hit.
Pain. Hit.
Failure. Hit.
Not. Hit.
Of. Hit.
Any. Hit.
Use. Hit.
No. Hit.
Super. Soldier. Save. Purpose. Blood. Red. Pain.
Hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, and hit.
Cold. Hit. Freeze. Hit. Cold. Hit. Hit. Ice. Hit. 2012. Hit. Sleep. Hit. Hit. Long. Hit. Time. Hit. No. hit. Purpose. Hit. Pain.
Hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit. Faster. Stronger.
Steve punched and nailed the bag. He knuckles broke and he painted the bag with blood and the floor with crimson spattered. Cold, why was it always cold? Freezing. Always. Like now. The soldier stopped. A sound, just a small one. Like the ice cracking.
"Steve?" The Captain looked to the door way and back to the gory battle scene with only one loser.
His head fell. "Sorry."
Tony beheld wide eyed the limp looking man before him. He shared a look with Natasha. Clint hung behind on his toes to see over Thor's shoulder. Bruce just stood.
"I'll clean it up if you'll give me a few minutes." Steve smiled so heartbreakingly fake that they almost cried.
"No." Natasha stepped forward warily. There was a panicked edge to Steve's baby blues that him a wild look. "Steve."
The super soldier was getting sick of his own name. "Mmhmm?"
He hissed as she unexpectedly touched his throbbing knuckles. Sweat was making them sting and flooding his eyes as well. Or was he crying? He didn't know.
"What happened?" Tony was nearby now and the Avengers were creeping towards their leader like guilty dogs.
Bucky. Peggy. Failure. Useless. Howard. "Nothing, just got a little tense, I guess." His voice crackled, shattering steel.
Bruce put a finger on the swinging Stark Industries blood covered opponent. "Nothing is not what I would call it."
"Shield brother, have we angered you?" Thor asked.
Steve looked around him. He was taller than everyone here except Thor. "No." His voice answered for him. He twitched his shoulders as Natasha poked the wound again. "That doesn't help. Poking at it doesn't help."
Clint crossed his arms. "Sometimes things need to be poked at."
"And sometimes they don't." Had he loomed over Bucky like this?
"Didn't they teach you in the army?" Bruce stared him down from below. "Got to clean before you bandage."
"Not me." Steve said. "Wounds don't even get bandaged. They heal on their own."
"Not mental ones." Tony wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. "Trust me, I know."
"I do not understand these twists in your human conversations." Thor couldn't follow his team. Human language was difficult. Asgard was a more literal place.
"Steve's being stubborn." Natasha waved her hand and crossed her arms.
Steve shook his head. Pinkish droplets flew off him; his hands let him know they needed attending. He walked over and picked up a towel. The Captain meandered to the kitchen half conscience of his train. Bruce murmured and he, with Thor, fell from the train. Steve nearly grabbed them to keep them from leaving but restrained himself. They had more important things to do anyway. Tony would skulk back to his shop. Clint and Natasha had training and other things to do. Cold water flowed over his hands. Pink red crimson swirls in the silver sterile sink.
"I do not understand." Thor said. "What happened?"
Steve turned. Everyone was sitting at the table. Natasha was sitting next to Thor hissing quietly. Tony and Clint were hovering over the tablet in the inventor's hand. Bruce was sitting next to an empty chair with a plain-Jane white box covered by a neat looking red plus sign.
"Really?" Thor stood up immediately and grabbed Steve into a crushing hug. "Captain, how can we be of your assistance?"
"You can let go." Steve wheezed.
Thor dropped him quickly. The soldier flopped down reaching for the box. A hand slapped down on the sunset cross box.
"Nope." Bruce shook his head. "Give." The doctor held out his hand and Steve let his own hand be kidnapped. "We're not going to put up with this anymore, right?"
Natasha and Thor nodded.
"Come on, Captain, you are constantly stressing the importance of team support." Natasha scowled. "Hypocrite."
Bruce gently wrapped the man's knuckles.
"Hey!" Clint suddenly bit out. "There." He pointed to the screen.
"Hey. There it is." Tony bent forward closer. "That's it. Nice call, Katniss."
"Thank you. Thank you." Clint mock curtsied.
"Hey Spangles." Tony flipped the tablet around. "This the problem?"
Steve hissed in pain and clenched his hands. The white bandage tore in half and he narrowly avoided crushing Bruce's fingers. The black suit. Flame throwers. Train. Motion. Bucky. "Steve!"
Natasha smashed her hand into the piece of technology, pushing it face down on the table. She dragged it to herself looking about ready to use the thing as her next artillery practice target.
"Fantastic, Stark." Clint growled.
"Sorry." Steve apologized through clenched teeth to Bruce who was unrolling the bandage.
The doctor waved it off. "Tony's fault."
He tossed the emptied roll at the inventor.
Tony frowned as if between being the philanthropist and playboy. "Jarvis have more… What is this? Medical tape delivered, like, yesterday."
"Yes sir." The polite Brit piped up.
Steve rubbed his face. "Alrighty, then."
"Where do you think you're running off to?"
"I don't think I know." Steve looked at the scientist. "Shower probably."
"Steve?" Tony looked down and away.
The super soldier stopped in the door way with one hand on the frame. "Mmm?"
"What did you see?" Tony still wouldn't look at anyone.
Steve's knuckles turned white as he gripped the door frame. "My failure." He grimaced. "The death of my very best friend because I couldn't pick up my damn shield fast enough." His shoulders hunched. "Bucky picked it up and got blasted right out the side of that train. He barely grabbed something. All I had to do was my job and grab him. Too little, too late." Steve whipped his arm forward to punch the wall, but stopped it, just before the impact broke over his hand again. It dropped back to his side. "I failed. I was useless just like you said Stark."
"What?" Tony yelped. "When did I..?" He put his hand to his mouth. "Wait. No. I didn't!"
"No. That's just it. Not of any use. Then or now." Steve felt his face grow hot.
"Shut Up!"
Steve jerked around. Bruce had slammed his fist down on the table. The normally reserved man looked dead serious.
"Sit down." Bruce pointed.
The soldier obeyed out of habit of recognizing shouted commands. He sat. Red smeared the table. The wounds were open, the wounds were bleeding, and the wounds were raw. Steve didn't know it but he was crying.
Bruce sat back down from his looming position. "How long has this been going on?"
"Which?" Steve cracked in a pathetic laugh. "Panic attacks? Last few weeks. Dreams? The Battle of New York. Flashbacks? The thaw. Failure? Always." Steve leaned back and closed his eyes.
The team looked to each other. What do you say to a super soldier from out of time? It'll get better? It's ok? What if it wasn't and all you could do was lie?
"I'm sorry." Tony said blatantly. "I'm not you're biggest fan since my father but I didn't mean what I said. That's the whole idiotic genius part."
"Stark, that is the least of it all. Maybe it's just me."
"You lost a friend shield comrade." Thor watched sympathetically.
Clint spoke up. "Not just that, a time period, a way of life. I think a little breakage is allowed."
"The big question is," Natasha looked firmly at the soldier until he could not keep his eyes closed under the pressure, "Why didn't you tell someone, us for instance?"
Steve rocked back, then forward like a pendulum. "Like I said, my wounds don't get bandaged, cleaned," He regarded the spy across from him, "Or prodded."
"That was then." Bruce said.
"Welcome to 2012." Tony said. "The age of prodding, where everyone knows everyone's business. We created whole websites for it."
Steve nodded flexing his hands slowly. The skin had stopped bleeding a bit. He had been shown these "prodding" websites. They were so strange but actually they made more sense when called prodding websites. The sites of now.
"Sir, the medical bandaging you ordered has been rushed delivered and is at your doorstep." Jarvis put in.
"Sit down." Clint pointed at Steve who had risen yet again. "Stay." He held up his palm as he left like someone leaving a faithful canine.
He must have sprinted and was back before a drawn breath was released. Clint gave the roll a toss and Bruce tried to catch it. It slipped right passed his fingers and fell to the floor. His other hand passed just beneath it as it fell, pushing it into a cartwheel through the air, uncertainty. It fell… It fell perfectly on its upright end instead of its side. The bandaging did not roll anymore. It just stood, balanced, stable.
"Nice one, band-aids." Tony chuckled.
Steve smiled a bit as everyone laughed applauding the plastic wrapped cloth. Bruce picked it up, and with a great cacophony of crinkling shrink wrap, opened it.
"Hey Jarvis send someone to clean up the gym, eh?" Tony grinned.
"I can…" Steve started.
"Right away, sir." Jarvis seemed to cut him off on purpose.
Tony looked thrilled. "Ah, takes after his daddy."
Steve began to frown but his lips twitched and he laughed. At Tony's hilarity, at his own problems. It was all just laughable. What was that quote?
"Life in the end seemed a prank of such size, a mountain built to such ridiculous immensity you were dwarfed in its shadow and mocking of its pomp." Steve laughed.
"Oh, God." Tony put his head down. "You know it's all gone downhill when someone starts quoting Bradbury."
Natasha even laughed this time. Thor laughed for the sake of laughing, not knowing anything but that it felt good. Laughter had to be the great cleaner. You could never fake true laughter.
Bruce re-cleaned Steve's knuckles. He wrapped them and they sat together, chatting, listening, laughing. It truly reminded Steve of Bradbury's book. The ending of Something Wicked This Way Comes, was he Jim? Could he be Jim? The one who was saved by his friend?
"Come on, let's go out." Tony said suddenly. "My treat."
They all stood and Steve rubbed his fingers gingerly.
"I'm choosing the place this time." Clint shoved him lightly with his shoulder.
"Hey, it's my car!" Tony stumbled and attempted to shove the man back. Clint stepped back and Tony, lacking balance of any sort, fell into Steve.
"Sorry, Steve-o." He righted himself.
"Remember last time?" Natasha shoved the inventor the other way.
"So shwarma was a bad idea." Tony shrugged. "And stop pushing! Remember who has the keys!"
Bruce plucked the jiggling metal up from Tony's bragging hand and tossed it to Steve.
"I do." The soldier said. "How about fast food? McDonald's?"
"I do agree with this idea." Thor exclaimed loudly.
"Fine, go with normal stuff." Tony grumbled in mock indignity.
Steve laughed. "Come on. Let's go."
Thank you so very much to The Quote Queen who ironed out the part that was giving me an itch in the side.