Tony went for comfort this time. He rolled into the office in gray track pants, a new pair of Nikes, and his favorite Metallica t-shirt. He was early for probably the first time in…ever, and smiled winningly at the receptionist. The receptionist blinked, and shut the partition quickly. Ok, might take a few tries with that one.

"I don't think she likes us."

Tony turned to find Steve, dressed in worn jeans and a large yellow hoodie declaring him a valued customer of Dan's Custom Auto Detail. It was worn and soft, and a little big on Steve. Which actually gave Tony pause. Something seemed slightly off

"I prefer George's" Tony said with a shrug. Steve blinked and scrunched up his in confusion.

Tony gestured at his shirt and Steve looked down as if unaware of his own clothing. He said nothing when his expression changed back to blank.

Steve shrugged dismissively. He sat abruptly in the nearest chair. His hair was still wet as if it had been recently washed. His clothes were wrinkled as if having been sorted from a suitcase. Probably from a hotel stay.

Tony frowned. He didn't care where Cap lived. It wasn't his problem. He could barely manage keeping an eye on himself since Pepper left. He winced. Bad thought train. He didn't need that now.

Tony sat down too, one chair between them. He was tired. Tired in ways that he hadn't felt in a long time. He wasn't a napper, but he would have willingly set aside time for one if he could have. He yawned loudly, and this got the frown of disapproval from Steve.

"We need to rest, Tony. There's no way to know when we will need to assemble."

Tony cut him off with a sharp gesture. He had been through enough nagging for a lifetime. "Fuck off, Cap."

Steve looked mildly offended for a moment, and then his face and posture went slack again. He buried his head in his hands.

Tony blinked in surprise. He started to ask what was wrong when Leah appeared in the doorway.

"Gentlemen."

He didn't build a fort this time. That was an improvement, right?

Steve was slumped again, which gave Tony pause. There was something off about the man. He had always been ramrod straight, as if ready for battle any minute. He sort of lulled to the left which gave Tony a headache. He wondered briefly about reaching over and repositioning him.

Steve looked at him and frowned. Tony may have said that out loud.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, and Tony sipped at the cup of coffee Leah had offered him. It had to be Folgers, but it felt too impolite to spit it back out. It was hot and it was dark, and that's what he needed at the moment.

"I'm glad you both came. We got off to a rocky start yesterday, but you are both here, and on time. That means something," she said with a soft smile. She shifted and tugged at her corduroy jacket sleeves. Her bracelets gave a soft jingle as she shifted. She watched both men quietly.

"Can you tell me a little bit about your history together?" she asked.

Steve shrugged. "Tony's father was one of the men involved in the serum…"

"I read your files, Steve. Can you tell me a little bit about your history together?" she asked. It didn't come across as mean, simply matter of fact. Steve quickly looked down at Tony, a question on his face.

Tony shrugged. "We met fighting Loki. I saved his star-spangled ass."

Steve rolled his eyes. Tony smirked back. Leah pointed. Tony flinched and decided to start over.

"We did meet in a fight. You saw New York. We ate shawarma," he said, again shrugging.

Steve smirked at that. "That's one of the first things he said when he woke up from that fall. He had never tried shawarma."

Leah gave a soft smile. "What about after? Did you maintain a friendship?"

Steve sat up slightly and clasped his hands together. "I moved into the tower. Sometimes we worked out together. Ate dinner. Tony showed me some movies."

"But did you consider yourselves friends?"

Tony reached a hand up and massaged the back of his neck, frowning. "I…uh. I thought we were."

Steve sat up straighter and jammed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. "We were friends. Sort of. It was…complicated."

Tony felt a flush of anger. He balled up his hands and looked at the ceiling.

"Tony, is there something you want to say?" Leah asked quietly.

He grabbed a pillow and slapped it down between them. Not seeing another pillow, he stood it on its side to make more of a wall. "No. Not a damned thing. "He saw a second pillow behind Steve and reached out to wrench it away from him. Steve grabbed the pillow and glared.

"Sure seems like you want to speak," Steve said through clenched teeth.

"Remember, this is a safe space," Leah added softly.

Tony pulled on the pillow, but Steve held fast.

"I tried to be friends," Steve said sharply pulling on the pillow, causing Tony to lose balance and he tipped forward, landing with his head by Steve's leg. He sat back up quickly, his face flushing. Steve released the pillow abruptly. Tony jerked it to his side. Smashed it down on top of the other.

"We were friends, Steve. At least I thought we were. I don't see what the complication was."

"There are always complications with you, Stark," looking at him sharply. "Nothing is ever simple with you."

"Maybe you could elaborate on what the complications were. Was it when I let you live in my tower? Was it when you kept me from knowing the complications from my parent's deaths? Or was it when.."

Steve turned flat eyes to Tony. "Is there any situation that isn't completely about you?

" he turned to face Tony completely his jaw clenched. "Such very good friends that when th

e one person I had left in my life died, you didn't come to the funeral. You didn't call. Not even a text message," Steve spat. He seemed surprised by his own words. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "It's just…complicated."

Tony's stomach dropped, and his face flushed. He stood, and went to stand behind the couch. His arms felt awkward as if he had forgotten how to use them. They hung listlessly at his side.

"I didn't…I didn't know what to say," Tony said, crossing his own arms across his chest defensively.

Steve turned and stared at the wall behind Leah's head.

"So you wanted to hear from Tony?" Leah asked quietly.

Steve flushed. "It doesn't matter. She's gone. It's…in the past."

Tony blinked. He felt color growing in his own cheeks and wondered if he could call the suit to carry him out of the office. Feign an emergency.

Maybe accidentally discharge a repulsor.

Leah was staring at Tony now. Not moving. Not speaking. Waiting.

"Cap.." he said, slipping back into his vacated seat, and glanced down at the man beside him. He shook his head and closed his eyes. He needed a fucking drink. He could feel Steve's eyes move to him, but said nothing.

He laid his head back on the couch.

When he opened his eyes, Steve was still staring forward, eyes focused just past Leah's shoulders. He was silent.

"I'm fine," he said, voice choking and he coughed to hide it. He hesitated, but looked quickly back at Tony, catching his eye for a moment.

Leah leaned forward, clasping her hands. "

Th

is is good, gentleman."

They stepped out into the garage again, but this time Tony noticed Steve had parked beside him. They moved slowly, but neither of them said a word to the other. Tony watched as Steve climbed on his bike, and the engine roared to life.

"I was…sorry to hear about Peggy," Tony said, and Steve stiffened, but turned back toward him. His face held shadows Tony had never noticed before. He seemed exhausted.

He offered Tony a halfhearted smile. "Thank you, Tony. She was a good friend."

Tony stopped and held up a hand. He listened for a moment, not saying a word, but gesturing at the bike, "She's missing."

Steve looked confused. "Who is?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Your bike. She's missing." He again pointed at the bike beneath Steve.

Steve shrugged. "I know. Been meaning to spend a little time with her, but I've been preoccupied. "

The bike suddenly gave a cough and puttered to a rest. Steve frowned and tried to restart her, but the engine never turned back over. His shoulders sank. He ran his hands through his dirty blonde hair.

Tony leaned over quietly and grabbed the knapsack from the back of his bike. "Looks like you're riding with me."

Steve was already shaking his head. "No, I'm good. It's not that late. I can call a tow truck, get her in the shop at least."

Tony opened the back door to his black SUV, and tossed the knapsack inside. He turned back to Steve and gestured back at the truck "Just let me drive you home. I'll have Happy pick up the bike, and have it back to you before tomorrow. No charge."

Steve said nothing, looking worried.

"Really?" he said, arching an eyebrow at Steve. "You know who I am, right?"

Steve frowned, but stood and moved back toward Tony. He shifted his feet, and zipped up his coat. "I grew up in the depression. I can't argue with free."

Tony smirked and Steve headed for the passenger seat.

They drove mostly in silence, Steve occasionally offering a quiet left here, or right up ahead. In between he closed his eyes and slumped against the window.

Tony watched him from the corner of his eye, and knew he hadn't been imagining things Steve was smaller somehow, as if weight had been dropped. His face was leaner, his energy level lower than Tony had ever been witness to. Rain suddenly began to pelt down, and he quickly switched the wipers on, listening to the rhythm as they swished back and forth.

When they got just outside of the city Steve sat up and pointed at a McDonald's. "Hungry. You mind?"

Tony's face scrunched up. "You hate fast food. What the hell, Cap?"

Steve frowned and set up straighter. "You can give the "Cap" thing a rest anytime. And you can always drop me. I can walk from here, "he said reaching in the back toward his satchel.

Tony growled. "Can we take it down a notch, McSensitive? I have been lectured after more than one hangover, "he said as his signaled a turn and swung into the lot, pulling into the drive thru line. . "about the dangers of fast food from Cap…"

He stopped and Steve was staring stonily back at him. "Steve Rogers."

Another eye roll. Between the two of they had to have crossed some Guinness record for eye rolls. The thought made him smirk.

The red Toyota in front of them was slowly perusing the menu, repeating that they needed a moment. Tony rolled down his window. "The fucking menu hasn't changed in 20 years. Pick something!"

The guy turned around to yell back, his chunky face flushed with rage. He blinked in surprise. "Yeah! Tony Sparks!"

Steve chuckled beside him and Tony shot him a glare. He shrugged his shoulders, but his smiled remained.

Tony leaned back out the window and faced Toyota man. "Order what you want. I'll pay. Just get the fuck out of my way."

The man's car seemed to vibrate with glee, shaking from side to side, and he shouted an order at the drive thru and shot off to the first drive thru window, gesticulating behind him to Tony's SUV.

Tony pulled forward and leaned out toward the drive thru speaker. "If you get him away from here in less than a minute, everyone gets a one-thousand-dollar tip.'

He looked back at his passenger who had the frown of disapproval.

"Tips for the working class? Me buying a meal for the less fortunate? You'll survive." He gestured at the menu before him and raised a questioning eyebrow. He heard the Toyota zoom off into the distance.

"Five Big Mac's. Five fries. Six fish sandwiches," Steve said, leaning toward Tony as he perused the menu.

"Twenty years, Steve. You've been awake long enough to know the menu."

Steve blinked distinctive blue eyes back at him. "Orange hi-c."

Tony repeated the order, and before he knew it, they were parked outside a shit Red Roof Inn, at room number 27, while Steve waded through the bag. The smell of fresh grease inadvertently made Tony's stomach growl, and without a word, Steve grabbed a Big Mac and tossed it in his direction while opening one of his own and diving in with enthusiasm.

Tony unwrapped it, took a bite, and swallowed. "So this is home?"

Steve shrugged for the 700th time that day and continued to munch on his own Big Mac, offering no comment.

It was the most run down hotel Tony had the displeasure of laying eyes on in a long time. There was a pool to his left filled with debris and leaves, and a sad looking ice machine staring back at them forlornly. The door to Steve's room was chipped, and the 2 hung sideways, irritating Tony's frequently diagnosed OCD. There had to be bugs. He winced inwardly. Sweet lord, the bugs.

He tried again. "Seriously, this is home? Do the roaches pay half at least?"

Steve sighed and spoke around a mouthful of Big Mac. "I've slept in worse." He continued chewing, oblivius to his resemblance to a horse chewing on hay.

Tony scowled. "You're repulsive, Rogers. Seriously. People should know this about you."

Steve took another bite. He looked down at himself and blinked back at Tony innocently. "Wha?" he asked, another mouthful of food. Some dribbled down onto his yellow sweatshirt. Grease showed at the corners of his mouth, French fry salt across his fingertips.

"You're seriously fucking repulsive There needs to be an expose on this," Tony says, snagging a napkin from the bag and tossing at Steve. "Captain America ruined for millions of housewives across the country."

Steve grabbed the napkin. He was quiet for a moment, trying not to smile. He choked on a laugh and covered his mouth, swallowing down his mouthful of burger. Tony chuckled. "If you choke you're on your own. You're too disgusting to save."

Suddenly, memories hit him. Steve driving the shield into the arc reactor, Tony lying in the cold, the taste of blood returning to his mouth. Steve's own bloody face looking down at him. He closed his eyes against the onslaught. He felt his throat choke, his heart rate speed up. He took several deep breaths and mentally counted to ten.

He had to get past this. He was not a child.

When he finally opened his eyes, Steve was half out the door, knapsack in hand, McDonald's dangling from the other. He looked back at Tony, as he swung the knapsack onto his shoulder. He suddenly looked tired again. "Thanks." He paused and gestured at the car. "For the ride."

Tony blinked back at him and started the car. He could still feel panic dissipating down his spine, the last vestiges of it still moving through his body.

He said nothing as

Steve closed the door, but flipped on the radio and backed out, heading for home.