What even are summaries? I mean, really? And titles?
So, this was supposed to be a happy short that would give Steve SOME HAPPINESS IN HIS LIFE. Because I so desperately want him to be happy, and many of you were asking if he would find someone and move on from Tony.
This ended up being not as short as I anticipated, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, right? RIGHT?
In any case, I hope you enjoy this. Please let me know what you thought!
Summary: Emotions were still tricky for Tony, but that didn't mean he didn't understand what happiness was like. And that he wanted it for Steve.
The Last Archangel: The Right Partner
"Would you be willing to go to D.C. with me?"
Blinking, Tony looked up from his workstation to find Steve looking just as nervous as he sounded. "D.C.?" he asked, just to be sure.
"Yeah." Steve fidgeted, eyes dropping to Tony's feet. "You don't have to," he added hurriedly, shoulders hunching slightly. "I just…if you want. I thought I'd ask." He swallowed.
Saving and closing what he'd been working on, Tony gave Steve his full attention. "Sure thing. How do you want to go there?"
Steve looked up at him, a tentative smile pulling at his lips. "I wouldn't mind driving."
"Okay." Tony mentally scanned his cars, cataloging which ones Steve wouldn't want to be seen in and which ones were inconspicuous enough that he wouldn't mind. "When do you want to do it?"
"Is – is this weekend too soon?" Steve sounded rather sheepish.
"You sly bastard." Tony grinned at him. "If you wanted a weekend getaway, all you needed to do was ask."
Steve's cheeks went red. "That's…" He coughed. "Not why I asked, actually. But thanks."
So, something serious then. Tony wasn't sure who Steve wanted to see in D.C., but it must be big if he wanted company.
"My weekend's free," Tony said instead. It wasn't, really, but that was what he had Pepper for. He could deal with some angry muttering and insinuations about his carelessness. "We'll go when you want."
The corner of Steve's mouth lifted. "Thanks."
Tony smiled back easily, glad he could put that smile on Steve's face. "It's absolutely no problem. It's going to be fun."
"Right." Steve seemed rather doubtful of this, which insulted Tony because he was great at making up fun stuff.
"You okay?" Tony asked, just to be sure.
"I'm fine," Steve said, smile softening. "Thanks, Tony. I'll let you get back to it."
Steve left before Tony could say anything else, and he ended up staring at the door that had closed behind Steve's back, wondering why Steve wanted company to go on a trip to Washington D.C. Whatever it was, it couldn't be bad.
They left early Friday morning, packing one bag for whatever Steve needed and stowing it in the back of the car. Jarvis was responsible for ensuring that Sam wouldn't get into trouble with nir siblings, though Tony's older kids were just irresponsible enough to get into trouble without blinking an eye.
Thirty minutes after they finally left New York City behind, Tony brought up the question that had been nagging at him since Steve had first suggested the trip. "Any plans? I've heard the Smithsonian museums are fun."
"I've heard that, too." Steve rubbed a hand through his hair, the ends sticking up after he was done. "I…I didn't want to go alone," he admitted softly, looking out the window to his right.
"I gathered as much," Tony said noncommittally. "Do you have a phobia of museums or something?"
Blinking, Steve looked askance at Tony. "What?"
"Museums," Tony repeated, glancing at Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Are you scared of them or something? Since you didn't want to go alone."
"We're not going to a museum." Steve sounded rather perplexed that Tony had even jumped to that conclusion.
Tony didn't point out that his first question had actually been about the unknown plans Steve had. "Probably a good thing, considering the kids would've wanted to come, too." He didn't press further, though his curiosity was practically burning a hole in him. Why did Steve want company? And why hadn't he taken James if he wanted a friend?
Ten silent minutes later, Steve said softly, "It's Peggy."
It took Tony a few seconds to remember what he knew of Peggy Carter, who had been an old friend of Howard Stark in his younger years. She'd been around for some of his human childhood; her conversations with Edwin Jarvis had always been amusing.
Tony hadn't thought of her in years, and he felt vaguely guilty about it. There had just been so much going on that he'd completely forgotten about everyone in his human past who hadn't been in the immediate vicinity. And Peggy, all the way in Washington D.C. in a retirement home, had slipped through the cracks after he regained his Grace.
"Is this the first time you're seeing her?" Tony asked quietly.
Steve swallowed, rubbing the side of his index finger along his mouth. "Yes." The word was whisper soft, his voice breaking slightly. He cleared his throat, and his voice was stronger as he said, "I couldn't do it before. But she's…she's old. And I don't know how much longer she'll be here." He didn't meet Tony's eyes, looking straight ahead. "I have to see her at least once," he added quietly.
Tony tapped his thumbs against the wheel, unsure of what to say. "You're seeing her now," he said eventually.
"Yeah." Steve looked at him now, giving him a watery smile. "Thanks for coming, Tony. You didn't have to, but you're coming anyway."
"You're my friend," Tony said simply. Because that was all that was needed. Steve was his friend, and Tony would help him anyway he could.
"I didn't think about asking Bucky," Steve said, eyes dropping to the gear shift between them. "I don't know why."
"He would've come."
"I know he would have." Steve rested his elbow under the window, his fingers rubbing his forehead. "But he…" He trailed off, frowning slightly. "I just didn't ask," he said finally, voice weary.
Tony hesitated only briefly before saying, "That's okay."
Steve didn't say anything else, hand dropping to his lap. He shifted until his head rested against the window and he closed his eyes, chest lifting once in a big sigh.
Lips thin, Tony pointedly kept his eyes off Steve's soul and on the road and the traffic. There was no time to freak out about seeing Peggy (Aunt Peggy) now; he could do all the freaking out in the world when they got there and he had to figure out how to approach seeing the woman who had always given him a kind smile and a story about Captain America that Howard hadn't bothered to.
It couldn't be too difficult.
Tony didn't spend a lot of time in Washington D.C. in general, having only been there a few times for meetings or because he'd been called in front of the Senate so he could reverse engineer an Iron Man suit. That being said, he didn't mind being in D.C. It was a pretty area of the States, even if there were a lot of tourist traps and the stupid politicians cluttering up the space.
It didn't take him long to find the retirement home where Peggy was staying, though he made sure to grab a bite to eat for Steve before they arrived. Steve hadn't been too eager to eat, but Tony knew better than anyone how a little something in the stomach could go a long way to soothing anxieties.
Even he couldn't resist indulging in a cup of hot cocoa while waiting for Steve to finish his meal.
But Tony couldn't put it off forever, and too soon they were standing in the lobby of the home and Steve was asking the receptionist for a Margaret "Peggy" Jones. Her eyes went wide upon seeing who it was she had asking to see one of the residents, recognizing them despite the civilian clothes both had worn in a rather futile effort to go incognito. But she was entirely professional and checked that they signed everything they needed before they could go in and see her.
Tony made sure to leave her a tip, appreciating her professionalism in light of her surprise and obvious admiration for Steve.
Then they were in front of the room Peggy was in, and Tony…couldn't go in.
Though to be fair, neither could Steve. He was stark white and seemed rather close to passing out.
"Oh, look, a chair." Tony gently pushed Steve to the chair in the hallway, making sure he sat and put his head between his knees. "Breathe, Steve." He rubbed gentle circles on Steve's back, keeping his breathing slow and steady and trusting that Steve would follow his rhythm.
"I'm okay." Steve's voice was faint, but he hadn't moved his head.
"You will be," Tony said reassuringly.
After several more deep breaths, Steve straightened out, meeting Tony's eyes with a sense of desperation. "You're coming in with me, aren't you?"
"I would." Tony kept his hand on Steve's shoulder, leaving it there as a grounding presence. "But I wouldn't want to distract her from you."
"You wouldn't be a distraction," Steve objected.
"She's my Aunt Peggy," Tony said, giving a small smile in response to the surprised look on Steve's face. "I'll let you two get reacquainted, all right? I'll be right out here. You can call me in anytime, I promise."
Inhaling deeply through his nose, Steve set his jaw, looking simultaneously nervous yet resolute. "Okay." He reached up to take hold of Tony's wrist, holding it for a brief moment before he let go and stood, squaring his shoulders determinedly. "Okay," he repeated.
Then, marching like a soldier to his execution, Steve entered the room.
It took Tony all of a second to occupy the now vacated chair and twiddle his thumbs for lack of anything better to do. He did his best to keep his attention off the room, but there was only so much he could do given his worry for Steve and Peggy.
As it was, he couldn't avoid hearing the startled exclamation of happiness from Peggy, the way her voice broke on Steve's name, the way Steve struggled to comfort her while trying not to break down himself… It was almost a relief when the two began exchanging inside jokes and gentle banter, though there was a sense of fragility to it all, like it might be taken away again without warning.
As the minutes crept by and the two friends in the room continued talking, Tony kept his head down and his focus off the room, rather nervous despite himself for when he would see Peggy.
It came soon with Steve poking his head out of the room, a bright grin on his face that Tony had seen only a few times before. "I told her you're here," he said. "She wants to see you."
Tony stood, nervously adjusting the hem of his jacket before he bit the bullet and walked inside. He saw Peggy lying in her bed by the window; she was smiling happily at Tony, her hair white and countless laugh lines crinkling.
"Tony." Her voice was as strong as ever, only a faint hint of age clinging to it. "It's good to see you."
"Hey, Aunt Peggy." The familiar term of endearment fell naturally from his lips, even though he'd never once said it since he'd remembered being Gabriel again. He came to stand by the bed, taking hold of her hand. "It's been a while."
Peggy's smile held no recrimination, and it was a weight off Tony's shoulders to see she didn't blame him for not seeing her more frequently. "I've seen you on TV," she teased gently. "You're always so dramatic."
"I learned from the best," Tony said, grinning slightly. "Steve's a terrible enabler."
"I am not," Steve squawked, but there was no heat in his tone.
"I don't doubt that," Peggy assured Tony, humor in her dark eyes. "He's always had a flair for style."
Steve predictably went rather red, most of the color going to his ears. "You know those booty shorts weren't my idea."
"They did accentuate your ass rather nicely," Tony pointed out, knowing exactly what booty shorts Steve was referring to. They'd been a frequent showing in the Stark household with Howard's obsession with Captain America.
"Tonyyy," Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands. It did absolutely nothing to hide his red ears.
"Oh, you two are precious." Peggy chuckled, meeting Tony's eyes with a happy grin. "It's good to see you found each other."
"Why did I ever think this was a good idea?" Steve muttered into his hands.
"Because it's brilliant," Tony said.
When all he got was another groan from Steve, Tony turned back to Peggy, who was gazing at him fondly.
"Tell me about your team," Peggy said. "I'm sure Steve's left out a lot of the good details."
"You didn't ask," Steve protested, lifting his face from his hands long enough to make a face at her.
"I'm asking now," Peggy said entirely reasonably, gesturing for Tony and Steve to take seats. "Go on. I'm all ears."
Without further ado, Tony went on a highly edited tale of the first movie night the team had ever done with Loki in tow. It had been quite an experience, if only because Loki had kept changing the appearances of the characters on screen when no one was looking.
He didn't even know why he'd been so worried about meeting Peggy like this. Everything was fine.
"I don't even know why I was worried," Steve said later in their luxurious hotel room. He'd initially made a face upon seeing the room Tony had booked, but he hadn't seemed to mind lounging on the really soft bed by the window.
"Went better than expected?" Tony looked up from where he was pulling out a tablet and a stencil, tossing them to the head of his own bed. Shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his shoes, he slid up the bed and to the pillows, sighing as the mattress sunk under his weight. It was like lying on a cloud, and he'd literally sat on a few clouds in his lifetime.
"I thought that…well…" Steve rolled onto his stomach, arms sliding under a pillow as he turned his face to Tony. "I thought she wouldn't remember me," he admitted quietly.
Tony paused in the motion of turning the tablet on. "Why wouldn't she? You're a hard man to forget."
"That sounds like a backhanded compliment."
"It's not, I assure you." Tony gave Steve a quirked smile and opened up his email. "And don't change the subject."
Steve made a muffled noise into his pillow, shaking his head. Then, looking back up at Tony, he said, "It's been sixty-seven years. She had a life, a family… There was no reason for her to remember me."
Tony deleted several emails before he settled on a response, remembering the melancholic and wistful smile Peggy had always worn when talking about Steve Rogers. "She loved you. It's hard to forget someone you love."
"Yeah." Steve's voice was soft. "It is."
A comfortable silence fell, during which Tony read through the emails Pepper had marked as important and decided what to do about them. He responded to several, made notes in his calendar for a few others, and decided that several other writers needed to be pranked immediately once he had time to do so. He was sure that his kids would give him a helping hand if he asked.
"We had a date," Steve said after a while, voice hazy. He sounded half-asleep, his eyes closed. "Eight o'clock at the Stork Club, don't be late." It sounded like he was quoting someone. "I was late." His head turned into the pillow, hiding his face. "And I can't go back."
Tony didn't move, his breathing frozen as he remembered a conversation he'd had with Steve at the beginning of their friendship. One where Steve had actually asked if it was possible for Gabriel to bend time to send him back to when he'd gone down into the ice.
Which it wasn't. Because there were some rules that even archangels couldn't break, and the laws of time were one thing. The future was fluid and ever-changing, but the past? That was done; the choice had been made and the path had been set. You couldn't change the past, although you could visit it and see what had happened. And if you were in the past, then you had always been there, fulfilling a paradox and keeping time on its course.
It went against the grain for a lot of human time travel stories, because time travel wasn't easy even for archangels. And it definitely wasn't something humans should mess with, even with the help of angels.
Registering that Steve was asleep, Tony turned the lights down, the glow of the tablet the primary source of illumination now. He'd felt guilty even then for not being able to grant Steve's request and send him back to his original time, but there hadn't been anything he could do about it. No matter how much he may have wanted to then and wished to do so even more now.
Exhaling softly, Tony went back to his emails. Thinking about an impossible situation would drive anyone mad, and it was the last thing he should be doing now.
There wasn't anything he could do about it. Steve was here with him now, not in the 1940s with a young Peggy Carter.
It was when he was signing in to see Peggy again the next morning that Tony realized things weren't as clear cut as they'd seemed the last day. The receptionist seemed almost worried as Steve signed in, staring after him distractedly as Tony moved to sign in next.
"What's wrong?" Tony asked, tapping the pen against the clipboard.
"Oh." Her eyes flickered to him, nervousness written all over her face. "She's having a bad day," she admitted.
"She's not feeling well?"
"It happens now and then," she answered, smiling weakly at him as she took the sign-in sheet back. "Someone will be there to help you."
Giving her one last look, Tony rushed after Steve, trying to think about what could make Peggy not feel well.
He pushed into the room without warning, about to say Steve's name, only to halt when he saw the way Steve looked absolutely stricken.
"You're alive," Peggy was saying, face filled with such happiness and hope and relief that Tony realized she didn't remember the previous day at all. "You came back."
"Yeah, Peggy…" Steve swallowed, voice wobbling dangerously. "I couldn't… I had a date." He took her hand, fingers infinitely gentle compared to the strength that he possessed.
Tony hesitated minutely before stepping inside, and he couldn't help the reflexive twitch when Peggy's gaze landed on him. Her eyes brightened with recognition, but the name she spoke had Tony inwardly flinch.
"Howard!" Peggy was smiling. "It's Steve."
Briefly meeting Steve's stricken eyes, Tony offered him a weak smile before stepping to Peggy's bedside. "I see him, Peggy."
"Did you find him?" Peggy asked, eyes on Tony and seeing a dead man.
"Yeah." The countless expeditions Howard had led on a flimsy hope at finding Captain America in the ice were a painful memory for young Tony.
"You made it." Peggy's eyes drifted to Steve, smiling happily. "I'm so glad you made it, Steve."
"I did." Steve sounded rather choked, eyes shimmering suspiciously. "I made it."
"Oh." There was a soft exclamation of surprise at the door, and Tony turned to find the nurse who had been supposed to meet them here and give them some warning of this being a possibility.
Giving Steve a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, Tony went to the nurse and pulled her partly out of the room. "What's going on?"
"Didn't you know?" The nurse looked at him pityingly; Tony couldn't help but twitch at the sight since he absolutely hated being pitied. "Mrs. Jones has Alzheimer's. It's not too far along yet; she has good days and bad days." She sighed, glancing to where Steve was covering the same talking points he'd covered yesterday. "Yesterday was a good day."
"I figured." Tony thumbed the hem of his jacket, mouth twisting.
Of course there had to be a sticking point.
Steve just couldn't be happy, could he?
"It's not that bad," Steve said later, pushing his pasta around with a fork.
Tony looked up from his clam chowder, which really wasn't as good as the waiter had made it seem like. "That was a horrible lie."
The corners of his mouth turned down, and Steve's shoulders hunched forward. "I know." His voice was subdued.
"She does know you?" Tony tried a few seconds later. "She thought I was Howard, for fuck's sake."
"You do look like him," Steve said, "but you're a lot nicer than he ever was."
"Oh, I don't know about that." Tony snorted, reaching for the bread so he could mop up some of the chowder.
"No, you are," Steve insisted, looking completely earnest.
Making a disbelieving humming sound, Tony pointed at Steve's plate with his spoon. "So I was thinking we'd do something else now. Maybe look at the museums around here."
Steve gave him a small half-smile, one that said he knew exactly what Tony was trying to do but was willing to go along with it. "Sure."
There was absolutely nothing that could go wrong with seeing a museum. Nothing.
Two hours later, Tony literally had to eat his earlier thoughts because of fucking course there was an exhibit on Captain America at the Air and Space Museum. He'd hoped he could take Steve's mind off Peggy by going to see some really cool history, but instead Steve was smacked in the face with everything he'd left behind in the past.
"I'm sorry," Tony said, trailing after Steve as the other went from exhibit to exhibit with a horribly lost expression. "If I'd known this was here…"
"Even you don't know everything," Steve said charitably, eyes skimming the placard that had a description of his ailments before he got the serum. Tony took a moment longer to stare at it, because what the fuck. How had Steve even made it to adulthood?
"I don't like not knowing everything," Tony said eventually, moving away from the horrific realization that Steve had very nearly died before ever becoming Captain America.
"I'm sure." Steve sounded amused now, and Tony mentally gave himself a fist bump.
The relief that he'd managed to cheer Steve up at least even remotely vanished quickly when they entered a room where a movie was playing. When a scene with a younger Peggy being interviewed popped up, Steve sat down heavily, hand going back to cling to Tony's jacket, fingers white in the fabric.
"I…" Steve's throat worked silently for several moments before he managed, "I'm glad she was able to move on." He closed his eyes, dropping his chin. "But it still hurts. I thought I'd…" He looked up at Tony with painfully young eyes. "I thought I'd moved on, too."
Silent, Tony rested a hand on Steve's shoulder, seeking to reassure him through touch while he figured out what he could possibly say to assuage Steve's pain. "It takes time," he settled on saying, thumb rubbing circles into Steve's skin. "Sometimes you move on. Sometimes you don't. I know I didn't," he admitted, voice soft.
Steve gazed up at him, eyes dark. "But you have now?"
"In a way." Gabriel smiled weakly. "I'll always miss it – miss my family. But I've got something new now. The important thing is picking yourself up and moving on. You'll be fine."
Nodding once, Steve reached up to touch Gabriel's hand, fingers trembling slightly. "Yeah…" The word was a whisper. "But I wish I didn't have to."
Gabriel's lips thinned, and he inclined his head in acknowledgement. Steve had gone through a lot for someone his age, more than what most people could have survived, and yet he still threw himself in the path of danger because it was the right thing to do.
There were a lot of things Gabriel could learn from Steve – was still learning – but this one thing was something Steve couldn't teach him. Gabriel was only just moving on from his own past, and that had been difficult enough that he didn't trust himself to give Steve the answer he was looking for.
There wasn't really one he could give.
But there was something he could do, wasn't there?
Squeezing Steve's shoulder comfortingly as the movie playing in the room wound to a close and started running the credits, Tony urged him up and out of the museum. For now he could try and cheer him up by doing something else.
Something that wouldn't involve the past Steve had been jerked out of.
Later that night, once he was absolutely sure that Steve was asleep and wouldn't wake up, Tony headed back to the home, landing quietly inside the room. It was dark, and there was no sound save that for Peggy's breathing.
He watched her for several minutes, eyes looking beyond the physical and to her soul, far brighter and younger than her physical body. His memories of her were colored by human perception, but he did remember her bright smile and easy laugh when he did something to amuse her. The stubborn set of her jaw when Howard or some other unlucky male pissed her off reminded him of someone else.
Then there was the crystal clear memory of Peggy punching Howard in the face when he'd gone too far with how he treated Tony. It had been the time that Tony – young and innocent – had said something along the lines of how Howard had given him alcohol to drink so he would "put some hair on his chest and become a man."
Howard hadn't looked at Tony for weeks after that.
He didn't stir or make any other indication of his presence, but Peggy woke up several minutes later all the same. It took her a few to realize that she wasn't the only one in the room.
"Howard?" Her voice was muzzy with sleep. "What are you doing?"
Smiling easily, Tony slipped forward to stand by her bed. "Watching you sleep," he teased gently.
Peggy didn't look amused. "You're not supposed to be here."
Not saying anything, he took her hand, gently letting a few tendrils of Grace slip out and wind its way into her body. He kept it slow and careful, making sure not to burn her. Breathing evenly to keep himself calm, he let the Grace tread through her damaged brain, mending broken connections and reviving dead brain cells.
In a few minutes, Peggy's eyes cleared up and focused with razor sharp precision on Tony's face. "What – Tony?" There was no trace of sleepiness in her voice now, and Tony let her hand go, drawing out his Grace as he did. "It's the middle of the night. What are you doing here?"
"Asking a question." Tony sat down on the side of the bed. "I needed you present for it."
Peggy exhaled, a furrow appearing between her brows. "This is a dream, isn't it?"
Tony had considered it; slipping into her dreams would have been infinitely easier for him than healing her Alzheimer's-addled brain. But people behaved oddly in dreams, doing things they wouldn't while awake. "It can be, if you want," he said instead. "Maybe it is."
"Spit it out already," Peggy said, a tinge of sharpness in her tone.
"If you had another chance," Tony said, holding her eyes evenly, "would you take it?"
"Another chance for what? I've had a long life, done things that some people would only have dreamed of. Of course I have regrets…" She trailed off, mouth twisting sadly. "But what person doesn't?"
"I don't mean live your life again," Tony said, getting her attention. "No, well, I suppose it would be in a sense…" He shook his head, refocusing. "I meant that if you had the chance to be young again – now – would you take it? Would you live your life in this age, grow old again?"
"And do what?" There was humor in the words, and Peggy laughed. "I've lived my life, Tony. There's no use debating hypothetical situations that won't ever happen. I'm old, and it's my time."
"It doesn't have to be." Tony looked away, gaze focusing on someone outside of the room and miles away. "That could be changed."
"For all your genius, you can't turn back time." Peggy's voice was gentle.
"No, I can't." Tony's eyes focused on her, pulling away from Steve sleeping in his bed. "And I wouldn't."
"What's wrong?" Peggy's frail hand reached up to touch Tony's cheek, making sure his eyes were on her. "What brought this on?"
Tony pressed his cheek into Peggy's hand, eyes fluttering closed briefly as he recalled Steve's agonized expression earlier that day. "I don't like to see him hurting. Not if I can do something about it."
"Steve?" Peggy's smile was sad. "He's young yet. He'll move on. I'm an old woman; I have no place in his present."
"He'll always love you. And you could have a place with him." Tony's fingers tightened where he held her hand. "If you could live your life with him – if you had that chance – would you take it? Hypothetical or not."
"I love him, too," Peggy said, blowing her breath out softly. "I always have. When he was gone, I grieved; I moved on. But I always wondered what a life with him would have been like."
"Yes, then?"
"If I had the chance…" Peggy's smile was wistful. "I'd take it."
"That's all I needed to know." Tony took hold of her other hand, closing his eyes and focusing. He couldn't mess this up. He only had one chance.
He'd done a lot of things in his lifetime, but healing a body and turning back the clock so that it was young again wasn't something he'd thought to do, either as Loki or the Trickster. And Gabriel had had no reason before to grow attached to a human being.
His Grace trembled and roiled in his grasp. He struggled to keep hold of it, biting the inside of his cheek hard to keep focused.
He should've asked Gadreel for help. Or not. This wasn't something he would've left for his brother to do, no matter how much better Gadreel was at healing than Gabriel now.
When it was finally over, and he could feel the heat of Peggy's hand in his grip and the firmness of her skin, he withdrew his Grace and opened his eyes, relieved to see that he'd managed it. She looked dazed and confused, but there was no damage.
Springing to his feet, Gabriel turned to the room at large, not eager to answer the probing questions Peggy would doubtlessly have at the moment. "What do you need to pack?"
"Christ," he heard Peggy mutter behind him, and there were the shifting sounds of her tossing off her blankets and standing. "What did you do, Tony?" she demanded, reaching out to grip Gabriel's arm tightly. "Who did you sell yourself to?"
Taking a breath, Tony blinked, turning back to Peggy. "I didn't. Sell myself, that is. There aren't any demons here, anyway."
Peggy's eyes were sharp. "Is that supposed to mean something? This isn't a dream, isn't it?"
Tony's lips thinned, and he shook his head once. "No. It'll be all right. There isn't a catch to this, I promise."
"You can't promise that," Peggy said accusingly. "What you just did shouldn't be possible, but you did it. Who did you go to for this? HYDRA? Leviathan?"
He flinched before he could stop himself at the mention of Leviathan, but there was a weight behind the word that he didn't expect. Almost as if Leviathan was an organization similar to HYDRA. "It's possible," he said simply, turning back to the room. "I know you've got questions, but can you hold onto them until we get back? I'll set something up so no one notices you're gone until later, but we should clear out anything you want."
Peggy's grip was hard enough that Tony didn't move, not wanting to hurt her. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what it is you did and who you owe."
Sensing that Peggy was telling the truth, Tony stifled a sigh and took one last look around the room, grabbing everything that seemed even remotely sentimental and popping it all into the hotel room. Then he looked Peggy in the eye and flew them both back, landing with a soft flutter of wings in a dark space.
Jerking away, Peggy stared at him, breathing hard and fast. "What—"
The light clicked on, and Steve sat there, staring at the two of them with a surprisingly lost expression. "Tony?"
"Oh, hey." Tony smiled brightly at him. "Surprise?"
Something hard slammed into his head a second later. Unprepared for it, all Tony did was blink at Peggy, who was holding a shattered remote control that had lost the fight with Tony's skull.
"Please don't do that again," Tony said, taking a large and healthy step back from her.
"I'll do more than that if you don't tell us where Tony is," Peggy said furiously, body coiled tight.
"Peggy!" Steve scrambled out of bed, lunging forward to hold Peggy back from further assaulting Tony. "That is Tony."
"Tony doesn't have the ability to turn back time and heal me," Peggy said, not looking away from Tony.
"Well, uh…" Steve shot Gabriel a look, eyes wide.
"I do, actually," Gabriel said, mouth twitching as Peggy's eyes narrowed. "I didn't always, but I do now. I am Tony, though. That's me."
"You mean you're a mutant?" Peggy demanded.
"If that makes you sleep better at night," Gabriel said easily. "But I prefer the term 'archangel.'"
"There's no such thing as angels," Peggy said dismissively.
"I suppose that means I should take a header out of the window?"
"Please don't," Steve said. "I don't want to have to explain to the kids why their father was seen jumping out a window."
"For the aesthetic," Gabriel offered.
"That's not an aesthetic."
"If you take a picture of it—"
"That doesn't mean anything. I was covered in glitter for days after that bath bomb, and taking a picture and tweeting 'For America!' didn't help."
"I did say you could get me back."
"How? You have eyes on the back of your head. Literally."
"I have two eyes, and they're both on my face."
"Steve," Peggy interrupted them, frowning slightly, "you know him?"
Steve cut off whatever he'd been about to say next, turning to Peggy. "He's my best friend, Peggy. He's Tony."
"Tony was human." Peggy shot Gabriel a suspicious look.
"This is who I was before," Gabriel said, giving her a small smile. "I was born human, and I lived part of my life as a human. Then I remembered. I'm still Tony. I'm just more now." He met her eyes. "Aunt Peggy."
Peggy's lips pursed. "You said you were an archangel?" she asked eventually.
"Yeah." Gabriel nodded. "I was known as Gabriel."
"The exalted messenger?" Peggy's lips quirked in amusement. "I would have liked to see that."
"I assure you, I took my job seriously."
"You offered the Virgin Mary a drink and told her she was pregnant with the Son," Steve said.
"She wasn't a virgin," Gabriel said. "She definitely did the do. Dad just interfered."
"Oh my God." Peggy stared at him, eyes wide. "You – you were an atheist."
"A devout atheist," Gabriel agreed, face straight.
"You can't be devout if you're an atheist," Peggy disagreed.
"I know." Gabriel grinned, bright and quick. "I do like being contradictory."
Peggy shot Steve a glance, confusion and worry writ all over her countenance. "You said he's your friend?"
"My best one." Steve gave her a tender smile, face slightly disbelieving as he looked at her.
"You've got James," Tony pointed out.
Steve shot him a look, eyes glinting in amusement. "I can't have two best friends?"
Studying him silently for several moments, Peggy's lips quirked into a small smile. "Fine, then. You pass." She glanced at Steve. "I'll reserve judgment for later."
"Snazzy," Tony said loftily, grinning at the snicker Steve stifled.
"Please don't use that word again," Steve said.
"Snazzy," Tony repeated, just for the look on Steve's face.
Peggy made a similar face. "Oh, please don't. That's not how you use that word."
"Language is ever changing and always fluid." Tony waved his hands. "There are a lot of words that were tossed out that I sorely miss because they were just that cool."
Staring hard at him, Peggy looked rather like she wanted to contest that statement. But before she could try and get Tony to expound on it, Steve rather wisely distracted her from doing so by calling attention to the stuff Tony had grabbed from the room before vacating it.
"This all yours, Peggy?" he asked, gesturing towards the picture frames, clothes, and books that were neatly laid out on the other bed in the room.
Suitably distracted, Peggy gave everything a cursory look. "Yes." She sounded rather surprised, shooting Tony a glance. "Thank you."
Shrugging, Tony put his hands in his pockets. "My pleasure. If I missed anything, let me know and I'll pop back and get it."
"No." Peggy went and picked up a picture with several kids grinning toothily at the camera, smiling down at it. "This is everything."
Steve rocked back on his heels, eyes on Peggy's back. "Are you feeling all right?" he asked.
"Snazzy," Peggy answered, lips twitching. "Honestly, " she added a second later, "I'm fine. I haven't felt this way in years." She squinted at the glass frame. "I should see if they still carry my brands."
"I'm glad." Steve's smile was soft.
Something in Tony's chest throbbed at seeing that smile, which was one that he'd never seen Steve wear during the time he'd known him. The day had been so awful that it was something else to see a smile like that on Steve's face, and he'd helped make it possible.
"What do you think?" Tony spoke before the others could, getting their attention at the apparent non sequitur. "Should we drive back tomorrow or see the sights? I'm sure there're a few nooks and crannies we haven't toured yet, Steve. We could always go and haunt the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters."
"I would've thought you'd go and fly back," Peggy said, folding her arms across her chest. "Being an angel and all."
"I do like my cars," Tony said. "And Steve wanted to drive."
"You didn't let me."
Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Because it's my car."
"I do have a driver's license," Steve complained. "And I don't drive like a grandfather."
"You drive a motorcycle without a helmet, even though I know J gave you one for your birthday."
Steve made a face. "It's so…patriotic."
Peggy snorted with laughter. "This coming from the man who still dresses in red, white, and blue when he goes out and fights?"
"I was told a little old-fashioned may still be needed," Steve said, "but I drew the line at the helmet. It had wings." He gestured with his fingers.
"That was me," Tony said shamelessly. "But the design was all J."
"He gets his style from you," Steve told him, completely sincere.
"Do you have children?" Peggy looked curiously at Tony. "There was never any news."
"There wouldn't be." Tony lifted one shoulder in a one-sided shrug. "They'll be out and about more as they get older, but for now we've agreed to keep outings to a minimum. They don't age the same."
Peggy's voice was wry as she said, "Are they angels, too?"
"Artificial intelligences, actually." Tony's grin was bright. "You'll meet them soon enough."
"Do these artificial intelligences follow the three laws?" Peggy asked curiously.
Tony paused, considering her. "If I said no, would you run screaming in the opposite direction or join forces and help them take over the world?"
"I'd incapacitate them," Peggy said bluntly, the corner of her mouth lifting. "Good to know. Those rules were rubbish anyway, though the movies were interesting. And what does S.H.I.E.L.D. have to say about the presence of a so-called archangel and his non-human children?"
"Nothing much, considering they all owe me their lives several times over."
"Tony." The single word dripped with disapproval as only Steve (and Jarvis) could pull off.
"Owing you their lives wouldn't stop them from destroying you if they deemed you a threat," Peggy said.
"What makes you think they don't?" Tony smiled coolly at her, letting a hint of his true nature slip out. "We're all dangerous. I'm just…a bit more."
Peggy didn't speak, her eyes meeting Tony's.
Steve coughed lightly, gently shoving Tony's shoulder. "You gonna fix the carpet?" he asked brightly.
Reeling in his power, Tony blinked, flicking his gaze down to see the slightly singed carpet hairs. "Oh yeah." He snapped his fingers, only for the entire carpet to turn bright pink. "Okay, they can bill me for the damages. Why don't we just check out."
"This is a hideous shade of pink," Peggy marveled.
"Don't ask," Tony said in response to Steve's inquiring look. "Just don't."
He should've known that those color palettes Butterfingers had him look at for her room were going to bite him in the ass.
The drive back to New York ended up not being very quiet at all as Steve and Peggy took the time to catch up properly without visiting hours or Alzheimer's getting in the way. Tony paid more attention to the conversation than the road, but given his reflexes that wasn't much of an issue.
Peggy had lived a highly exciting life, and she seemed to have no qualms talking to Steve about several of the missions she'd taken on after he'd been iced. She also had plenty of stories to share about the Howling Commandos' later adventures, ones that Tony had heard himself as a young child.
She was recounting the mission they'd done in a facility where they'd trained young females to become assassins when Tony pulled into the underground garage. Steve had a thoughtful frown on his face as Peggy continued speaking, and Tony couldn't help but think of Natasha and her childhood, which was still shrouded in secrecy.
The only one who knew anything about how Natasha had grown up was her, though James knew a little. But what Peggy was describing sounded a lot like the training program that Natasha had gone through as a child, before she'd become the infamous Black Widow.
Finishing with the recruitment of a Russian doctor, Peggy took a breath and turned to Tony. "Shall we go up? I've always wanted to see this tower of yours. All the nurses talked about it during its construction."
"Did they?" Tony grinned, pleased.
"Please don't inflate his ego," Steve groaned.
"Oh, don't worry." Peggy's own grin was just as sharp as Tony's, but tempered with a shade of amusement. "I do have experience with Starks."
Tony's grin sobered as he remembered the shouting matches Peggy had had with Howard back in the day. They'd gotten worse over the years as Howard buried himself more in his company and on the fruitless expeditions to the Arctic in search for Captain America. He'd been frightened then, though Jarvis had always tried his best to keep him out of the way.
"Speaking of Starks," he started, keeping his tone light, "want to meet my kids?"
There was nothing but fondness in Peggy's smile now. "I look forward to it."
"They can be a bit excitable," Steve warned her as they entered the elevator.
The light on the side of the door turned green as JARVIS registered them and authorized them for the penthouse level. Tony could practically feel his confusion and tentative excitement at Peggy's presence.
When the doors slid open a minute later, someone shouted "THINK FAST!" and lobbed a giant ball of rubber bands at Tony's head.
Due to the ball's not very aerodynamic design, it fell to the floor with a loud thump several feet from Tony and rolled to a pitiful stop inches from Tony's shoes.
"Aw." Dummy pouted at the ball, frowning. He brightened a second later upon seeing Tony. "Dad!"
"Hey, squirt." Tony crouched, picking the ball up and tossing it from hand to hand. "Having fun with physics? Where'd you even get this many rubber bands?"
"I stole 'em from You," Dummy admitted shamelessly, coming up to Tony's side and tugging his hand. "He was using them to build a robot that kept falling apart."
"Because you kept stealing the bands!" You shouted from another room.
"Did not!" Dummy shouted back, sticking his tongue out even though his brother couldn't see it.
"He looks just like you," Peggy said from behind Tony, blinking down in disconcertment at Dummy.
Catching sight of Peggy, Dummy smiled brightly at her. "He's my dad! My name's DJ. What's yours?"
"Peggy, this is Dummy," Tony said, ruffling Dummy's hair with the rubber band ball and receiving a face in response. "Dummy, this is your Aunt Peggy."
"So she's in on the secret?" Dummy grinned at Peggy. "It's nice to meet you."
Peggy didn't blink at Dummy's name, coming down to his level to smile at him. "It's nice to meet you, too, Dummy." She looked back up at Tony. "Is there a reason for the name?"
"You remember the bot I built back in MIT?" Tony tossed the rubber band ball in the air before lobbing it over to the couch, where it landed with a sad thump.
"Ah." Peggy's eyes looked at Dummy with recognition this time. "So we've met before."
"I spilled oil on you," Dummy agreed happily. "And I burnt your skirt."
Steve snorted with laughter, turning it into a cough a second later when Peggy turned a raised eyebrow on him.
"He's a bit more dexterous now," Tony said. "There will be no burning of skirts."
"I make no promises," Dummy said imperiously. He peered up at Tony through his eyelashes. "Uncle Gadreel's being a spoilsport."
"Oh?" Tony could peripherally feel Gadreel's amusement elsewhere on the floor. "What's he doing now?"
"He wouldn't play Monopoly."
"Wise man," Peggy said, nodding. "Especially if you're as good with money as your father was at your age."
"He's actually pretty horrible," Butterfingers said, sliding out of the kitchen and smelling distinctly of sugar and flour. She rolled to a stop, clicking the heels of her sneakers together and tucking the wheels back into the soles. "Uncle Gadreel's even more so. He doesn't understand why it's fake money." She grinned toothily at Peggy, sticking her hand out. "I'm Bela. But you can call me Butterfingers."
Uncaring of the flour on Butterfingers' fingers, Peggy shook hands. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Butterfingers."
"This is Aunt Peggy," Dummy said before Peggy could.
Butterfingers' eyes flickered from Tony to Peggy, her lips pursing. "She's Dad's Aunt Peggy," she pointed out. "That means she's technically our great-aunt."
Dummy looked vaguely appalled. "But she doesn't look that old!"
Lips twitching, Peggy's shoulders shook.
"I don't look that old either," Steve said.
"But you were a capsicle!" Dummy said, as if that explained everything.
"He didn't hear that from me," Tony said immediately, putting up a hand as Steve looked at him.
"Liar." Steve sounded fond.
"Wait…" Dummy squinted at Peggy. "Are you Steve's Peggy? The one James always teases him about?"
"He didn't mean it like that," Steve insisted, cheeks flushing red as Peggy's eyes snapped to him. "That's just Bucky—"
"Bucky?" Peggy interrupted him. "He's alive?"
"I didn't tell you?" Steve's lips curled into a faint smile. "Yeah. He's alive. Turned up earlier this year looking for Natasha."
"Is he still here?"
"He's out with Aunt Nat," Butterfingers said. "They said something about counting the pigeons. Uncle Clint's helping from the roofs."
"They didn't ask J?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure he could give a pretty accurate count of the pigeon population of the city."
"He's going to confirm when they're done." Butterfingers grinned up at him. "We made cookies, and we didn't mix up the salt and sugar."
"I am a sucker for cookies," Tony said, letting Dummy pull him into the kitchen, Steve and Peggy following after him. "How's Sam?"
"Ne's forming the cookies," Butterfingers said, at the same moment that Samael shouted "Dada!" and made grabby hands in Tony's direction.
Ne was sitting on a high stool at the countertop, Jarvis hovering by nem for supervision. Samael was absolutely covered with flour but beaming in happiness.
"I don't suppose I could get you to call me Uncle?" Tony asked nem, already resigned as to what the answer would be.
"Dada!" Samael insisted, waving at Tony. "Made cookies!" Ne grinned, face crinkling. A second later ne threw a mound of dough at Tony.
Tony caught it before it smacked him in the chest, the dough sinking under his fingers. "I don't think you're supposed to throw that."
"You promised not to throw the dough," Jarvis told Samael disapprovingly.
Samael's only response was to smack an unbaked gingerbread man to Jarvis's cheek, giggling at the face Jarvis made.
"That's not very sanitary," You told Samael, not looking up from the robot he was making with his pile of dough.
Samael repeated the sentence back to You, sticking nir tongue out once ne finished. "So there!" ne added.
"That didn't even make any sense," You said.
"Is that…Chinese?" Peggy's head tilted to the side.
"We're a multilingual household," Tony explained, giving You a wave and tossing the mound of dough back to Jarvis.
"I speak English, too," You said, smiling at Peggy. "I'm You."
Frowning slightly, Peggy's expression cleared a few seconds later as she understood what he meant. "I see. I remember you."
Nodding in acknowledgement, You turned back to his robot.
Giving up at cleaning Samael's face, Jarvis looked up at Peggy, looking faintly nervous. "Mrs. Jones. Or would you prefer Ms. Carter?"
"Peggy, please."
A slight furrow formed between Jarvis's brows at this non-answer, but it cleared a moment later as he managed a small smile. "I am Jarvis."
There was a flash of pain from Peggy, and her smile wavered slightly, but there was no sign of it in her voice. "Jarvis?"
"Just A Rather Very Intelligent System," Jarvis said, voice gentle.
"I named him after Edwin Jarvis," Tony said, getting Peggy's attention. "He's my youngest, save for Samael."
"Dada." Samael reached out insistently for Tony, who obliged nem this time by stepping closer and letting nem take hold of his hand.
Peggy watched them with gentle eyes, arms folded across her chest. "You built yourself a family."
Steve smiled at her, nudging her shoulder gently with his. "You haven't met them all."
Gadreel picked that moment to reappear in the kitchen with a gentle flutter of wings, holding a mop, a packet of facial tissues, and a bottle of cleaning solution. "I think you asked for this?" He held it out to Jarvis.
Jarvis fixed him with a clearly disapproving look that had even Tony cringing. "Ten minutes ago."
"I wasn't prepared to go crawling through the vents for the facial tissues."
"Oops," Butterfingers muttered, chagrined. She checked the tray that was already in the oven.
"The vents are large enough for one of your stature," Jarvis said.
"The cleaning solution was hiding in the litter box," Gadreel said.
Dummy wrinkled his nose. "Ew."
You shrunk in his seat, carefully putting his robot cookie on a tray.
"And the mop?" Jarvis raised an eyebrow.
"The janitor was most helpful."
"Very good." Jarvis pointed to the floor by Samael's stool. "Perhaps you can clean now?"
Rather than answer, Gadreel disappeared in another flutter of wings, leaving only the mop, facial tissues, and cleaning solution behind.
It took a moment, and then Peggy was laughing. "If this is only part of your family, I look forward to meeting everyone else."
Tony met Steve's eyes, grinning easily in response to the happy light in them. "They should be around later tonight. They'll be glad to see you, too."
"But first, sir…" Jarvis lifted Samael up, heedless of the way ne smeared flour all over his face. "Perhaps you can give Sam a bath?"
Samael was placed in Tony's arms before he could protest, and ne wound nir dirty arms around his neck, smacking a kiss against Tony's cheek and smearing flour all over his goatee.
"You've got…a little something there." Steve's lips twitched as he gestured to Tony's face.
"Very funny." Tony made a face at him, then went and left for the bathroom before Samael could make even more of a mess.
Ten minutes into giving Samael a bath and getting more water on him than in the bathtub, Tony felt Gadreel appear behind him.
Gadreel took a few seconds before saying, "I wasn't expecting you to bring another guest."
"She's staying," Tony said, keeping the soap out of Samael's eyes.
There was a rustling sound as Gadreel leaned against the wall just in Tony's peripheral vision. "She was dying?"
Tony rinsed Samael's hair, ignoring the way ne splashed water on his already soaked shirt. "She had Alzheimer's," he said eventually. "It's… I grew up with Peggy visiting. She and Steve had a thing going on back in the forties." He wiped the water off Samael's face, the corner of his mouth tilting up in response to the broad grin Samael gave him. "I just… I wanted him to be happy."
Sighing, Tony checked for any leftover conditioner and moved to empty the tub. "Emotions still trip me up."
Gadreel was there with a towel, taking Samael from Tony's hands. "Is it not natural to want your loved ones to be happy?"
Tony didn't look at him, eyes on Samael. "It's not as easy as that."
"Isn't it?" Gadreel rubbed the towel over Samael's head. He watched Tony, his eyes neutral. "Did you have any trouble?"
"I may not be as good as healing as I was before, but that doesn't mean I can't do it," Gabriel snapped, hackles rising.
Gadreel inclined his head, mouth thinning. "I know, brother. I didn't mean that you are incapable—"
Gabriel shook his head, quieting Gadreel. "No, I get it. I'm unreliable. It's not likely to get any better anytime soon." His Grace ached, and he swallowed, looking away from Samael.
"It will take time." Gadreel's voice was quiet, the tone free of judgment. He, better than anyone, knew what Gabriel was going through.
Gabriel looked at him sidelong, offering him a lopsided smile. He'd never be back to where he was before, but the sentiment was nice.
Tilting his head slightly, Gadreel slid a wing against Gabriel's, emitting gentle comfort. "I can finish drying Samael," he said aloud. "I believe Steve wanted to speak with you."
Rolling his shoulders, Gabriel patted his clothes dry. "Emotions. They're messy."
"So you've said before, brother." Gadreel set Samael down, letting nem stand as he continued drying nem. "And you are doing a splendid job with them."
"Mm. Funny." Gabriel flicked Gadreel's ear and flew off before his brother could retaliate, landing in the room where Steve was standing.
Thanks to prior experience with Gabriel appearing out of nowhere, Steve didn't startle. He just fixed Gabriel with an inquisitive eyebrow raise.
"You wanted to talk?" Tony settled his hands in his pockets.
"You divined that, did you?" Steve asked wryly. He smiled an instant later, the motion so carefree and happy that Tony was momentarily speechless. "Thank you."
Abruptly uncomfortable with such a sincere expression of gratitude, Tony's shoulders hunched. "It's…no problem. I…" He swallowed back the words that jumped to his lips, where he told Steve that it was all worth it if he was at least happy.
"You didn't have to do that." Steve sidled closer to him, eventually coming close enough to nudge Tony's shoulder with his own. "I know it's not…what you usually do. Give someone a second chance like that."
"Why not?" Tony frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "She wasn't dead. It's just extending her life. And I could do it."
"But you didn't have to," Steve said. "And you did. Just because. So"—his voice dropped—"thank you."
This time he couldn't stop the words. "I wanted you to be happy." He didn't meet Steve's eyes, looking out the windows to the New York skyline. "I couldn't send you back. And I can't…" He trailed off uncomfortably, mouth twisting. "I could do this," he settled on saying. "So I did. Besides…she wanted it, too."
"In her dreams," Steve quipped, sounding like he was smiling. Tony peeked just to confirm, and he was.
"There isn't a catch to it," Tony said, tilting his head up to eye Steve sidelong.
"I wasn't expecting there to be." Steve's smile was gentle. "I – I don't have the words. I was happy, Tony; I was. The last few days were…hard, but not more than usual. But now – I really can't believe it – you did something I never even considered."
"Why do you think I did it?" Tony faced him. "You wouldn't have asked. You didn't even think of it. And I could do it – just like that." He snapped his fingers, lips twitching into a small smile as Steve's eyes flickered to his fingers. "You're my friend, Steve. And I want you to be happy. You deserve that." He barely stopped himself from wincing at the confession.
Steve's eyes dropped. "I forget sometimes," he admitted, "just who you are. And what you can do."
Tony grinned. "Why do you think I like you?"
Huffing, Steve's eyes crinkled in amusement. "My wit and good looks?"
"Ah, caught." Tony elbowed him in the ribs. "Seriously, it's great having someone who doesn't think of it. Pepper and Rhodey don't remember half the time either." He shrugged. "It makes it easy. And," he added, "I like doing things for my friends. I grew up with Peggy around; this is as much for me as it was for you." The lie sat easily on his tongue.
Steve's brow furrowed slightly, but thankfully he didn't say anything. "Still…" He hesitated briefly, only to reach forward and pull Tony into a tight hug. "Thank you."
Wrapping his arms around Steve, Tony hugged back, the warmth and sheer happiness radiating from Steve's soul doing more than the physical contact did. The words, when they came, were quiet. "You're welcome."
A few days later, after Peggy's arrival in the tower had finished making waves and the team had gotten used to her presence, she cornered Tony in his workshop, batting aside floating holographs without blinking.
"I wasn't sure about you at first," she started, holding Tony's eyes, "but you haven't really changed. You're still Tony."
Tony didn't say anything, though "I told you so" hovered at the tip of his tongue.
Peggy's lips twitched like she knew what he was thinking. Which she probably did, simply through prolonged exposure with Starks. "You're still the fine young man I watched grow up."
"Not so young anymore," Tony said, leaning back in his chair.
"I suppose not." Peggy inclined her head in acknowledgment. "Neither am I. I don't think I thanked you."
"You don't have to."
"I want to," she answered simply. "Despite what Steve tells me, I know you did it for him. You had your time with me; you grew up. Steve…" She glanced up.
"I'm not used to loss," Tony said quietly.
"Bullshit." Peggy gave him a brief smile. "You know loss, Tony. You did it for Steve, and I know why."
Tony forced himself to keep eye contact. "He loves you."
"A man can't love two people at the same time?" Peggy asked, voice sharp. "I loved my husband. I did. But I loved Steve all the same. That never went away. I just moved on. I have a chance now that I thought I wouldn't have before, and I thank you for that."
Staring at her, Gabriel kept his voice even as he said, "I can't give him what he needs."
"You did," Peggy said. "Steve doesn't need to say it, but I know. You're there for him emotionally in ways that I can't be. I've never been one for that," she admitted, "and growing old hasn't changed that."
This conversation was making him feel rather stupid, and Gabriel didn't like feeling off balance. It usually resulted in an unpleasant surprise. "What are you getting at?"
"Will you still be there for him?" Peggy asked. "To support him when I can't?"
"What do you think of me?" Gabriel couldn't restrain his anger. "I don't give up on my friends."
"You love him," Peggy said bluntly. "Not the way he does, but you do."
"He's my best friend."
"And you're his." Peggy inhaled through parted lips. "I'll not beat around the bush anymore. I'm not asking you to suddenly return his feelings. None of us would be comfortable with that. What I am asking for you to do is keep your relationship the same. Don't pull away."
Gabriel studied her. "There are some that would call that an emotional affair," he said eventually.
"Is that so?" Peggy's lips curled into a small smile. "Well, I'm not one of them. I want Steve to be happy, just as much as you do. So let's do that, shall we?"
Kicking back the chair until it was balancing on its back legs, Gabriel tilted his head to look at the ceiling and say, "This is probably the weirdest threesome I've ever done in all my years."
"This isn't a threesome."
"Keep telling yourself that."
A second later something slammed into the back legs and knocked the chair flat, sending Gabriel sprawling on the floor.
The offending object ended up being the ball of rubber bands that rolled away innocently.
Once again, Gabriel was very much reminded of how much he didn't like being put off balance. Unfortunately, Aunt Peggy had always been too good at that.
"Am I expected to stay behind as you run off and fight?" Peggy asked after the next battle Captain America, Black Widow, and Hawkeye took care of.
She had been entirely unsurprised to find out that Tony typically piloted the Iron Man suit, having informed him that she was no fool and could put two and two together.
Tugging off his cowl and revealing a delightful head of helmet hair that always had Tony wanting to take a picture and put it on twitter, Steve looked at her. "Do you want to come?"
"It would be appreciated." Peggy's voice was dry. "My previous job is currently held by someone else, and I cannot just waltz in and take it back. I am no housewife, and I won't abide idleness. It gives me hives." She affected a haughty look that had Tony hiding a grin behind his tablet and Clint snorting with laughter.
"We could heal that," Gadreel said, completely missing the joke. He seemed to realize it a second later. "Or was that a joke?"
"It was a joke," Peggy said, not unkindly. She turned back to Steve, biting her lower lip in a small grin. "What do you think of…Miss Union Jack?" Her face was utterly gleeful as she delivered the atrocious title.
Steve made a face. "Who came up with that? Dum Dum?"
"He did." Peggy smacked a portfolio into Steve's chest. "A list of design options for a costume. And I expect a glorious motorcycle."
"I can do that," Tony said.
"I want it to fly."
"I can still do that."
"And shoot lasers."
"Feasible."
"And turn invisible."
Tony paused, fixing her with a narrow-eyed look. She stared back unrepentantly. "Were you going to keep demanding more ridiculous things as I agreed?"
"Perhaps."
"Miss Union Jack," Natasha sounded out, nose wrinkling. "It's…doable."
"It's no worse than Captain America," Peggy pointed out.
"If you start on that song," Steve said to Clint, "there will be a great deal of scrubbing in your future."
Clint blinked innocently. "No potatoes?"
"Lots of potatoes," James said, smirking.
"And in the meantime," Peggy continued, "I can give S.H.I.E.L.D. a piece of my mind, now that I'm in a state to do so."
There was something about how she said that that had Tony look at her curiously. "How do you mean?"
"Alzheimer's doesn't just develop out of the blue," Peggy said candidly. "And they never wanted me to retire with my faculties intact, not with what I had rooted out from their closet. After all, HYDRA knows full well what I think of them.
Everyone stopped dead, staring at her.
"What?" Steve's voice was flat.
James swore violently in Russian, turned on his heel, and left, Natasha following him.
"Yes, well…" Peggy held her head high. "The council didn't listen when I told them Zola was a bad egg. What I found later…" She met Steve's eyes. "We have snakes in the house, Steve. And we need to clear them out."
Tony really hated surprises.
Sooo...I hope you enjoyed this little time stamp in the life of these characters. There'll be more to come eventually.
In other news, I've created an ask blog specifically for this series. So if you don't want to follow me on tumblr but DO want to keep up to date on what's happening in this world, please consider keeping an eye on the blog (thelastarchangelaskblog dot tumblr dot com)! Or follow it. ;) If you've got questions, head canons, or other things you want to ask, don't hesitate to drop by!
Once again, please drop a note on your way out. Thanks for reading!