It's sometime along the week when the emergency alarm goes off and they are called to assemble. Steve is halfway through his watercolour painting of the Brooklyn he used to know when he jumps from the alarm, smearing a brown streak across the paper. He mourns at the effort he's painstakingly put in for the past two hours but he sets down his brush and hurries to change into his suit.

A few minutes later he's running with his shield in hand to a generic grey high rise building with Coulson on the intercom relaying the situation to all of them.

"Captain, we picked up a terrorist bomb threat then minutes ago," Coulson speaks calmly, voice betraying nothing. "Unfortunately or fortunately amidst our investigation the bomb has been found to exist and it's rather….obvious."

"Obvious how?" Tony asks, voice blaring through the ear piece. "Wearing a top hat and dancing the Macarena? Where is it? I'm there in five, I have to see this for myself."

"Ton—Iron man, aren't you supposed to be in a meeting?"

"Steve," Tony says on purpose, because they're not supposed to be using their real names over the intercom. "Steeeeve. One of those dumb ass meetings wherein I have to listen to old dudes with a hundred IQ points lower than me telling me how to run my company? Really?"

Steve can't help a small amused huff. "I'm going to tell Pepper you said that."

"Steve—no! No. Come on, buddy. You need me more than those bald ageing men I pay an obscene amount of money. Hey, didn't I offer you—"

"Yes, yes. Chatter," Steve reminds him absently.

"Thank you, Captain," Coulson intercedes. "Agent Barton and agent Romanov are already assisting the evacuation on the higher levels. The bomb is located right in the lobby. Walk in, and it's under the receptionist's desk."

Before Steve steps into through the front doors where there is a lot of frantic shoving from civilians trying to get out, Iron man arrives and drops right next to him. They nod in acknowledgement and make their way in, dropping over behind the desk.

They immediate freeze when they see glowing blue metal object shoved next to the computer terminal with wires sprawled all over it.

"There's no timer," Steve mentions, squinting at it curiously.

"Maybe it has a trigger," Tony frowns, his suit already picking up unusual signatures from the device. "JAR, full scan, take it apart, I want to see how it works."

Steve waits the few tense seconds until Tony mutters a "Figures," under his breath.

"Well?"

"It's feeding off energy from the cable lines but once that runs out it's going to explode," the Iron man automated voice answers. "The more power it saps the more explosive it becomes, but once you cut off the power source—boom. Big boom later or small boom now, you choose."

"There are still civilians in this building, we've got to get them out first," Steve says grimly, shifting his shield in his hand.

"Actually, the bomb is charged enough to wipe out an entire floor, which means that if we take it out now, this whole building would probably collapse, or," Tony says. "If we take it out later, the blast radius is going to get bigger and take out the other buildings nearby. I would disable it, but it seems to be rigged to explode if we even try. No failsafe," he whistles, almost impressed. "Damn."

"Leave it," Coulson intones. "We're extending the evac radius. After that, we'll cut off the electricity supply. Get out of there and help with evac."

"I don't think so, Phil," Tony replies. "It's charging faster than evacuation."

It's a pretty bad situation, and everyone knows it.

Steve breathes in deeply. "Widow, Hawkeye, status."

"Forty third floor clear," Natasha replies crisply. "Twelve more to go."

Clint groans. "Can I shoot something?"

"There's nothing to shoot, Agent," Coulson snorts. "Focus on your mission. Unless we find some sort of alternative power source, that bomb is going to stay there. Captain, Iron man, get out of there."

Steve frowns but nods, because he can't think of any other way, but when he turns to leave he notices Tony still staring at the device. The Iron man helmet just turns a little to glance at him and suddenly something clicks.

Power source.

"Iron man," Steve warns, tone on edge. "No. You're not going to—"

It's the same moment that Tony dashes forward before Steve can stop him, and there's this bright light that nearly blinds Steve. Steve squints until the glow dims enough for him to realise that Tony is holding the bomb against his chest, hand pressing a wire from the device straight into his arc reactor compartment.

"Power depleting, 78 percent," JARVIS states. "77. 76—"

"Fuck, okay, time to jet," Tony mutters, leaping over the desk and blasting his repulsors, shooting out of the front doors.

Steve races after him futilely, just about anything, anything to hope that he can stop him. "Tony—no, don't you dare—don't you dare—"

He doesn't realise it but he's shouting into the intercom, but Iron man has switched it off, and Steve only hears his own thundering heartbeat in return. Tony is a peck of red and gold flying up into the sky, and Steve knows from the start what Tony is planning to do, and it make him feel even sicker than ever.

"Tony—TONY!"

Steve watches uselessly as the armoured suit becomes smaller like a dot in the sky, and explodes.

"Ow," is the first thing Tony says when he opens his eyes. "Mother fucking OW. J, lower light intensity to fifteen percent."

When the lights stay on as bright as ever, he frowns. "JARVIS—"

"Deal with it, Stark," comes a voice, familiar, but not the one he's hoping for.

Tony groans, and shifts his glance. "Storm. Huh. What are you doing here?"

"I was called in for the funeral arrangements," the teen answers, smirking from where he's stretched out, legs splayed out on the chair. "Seems like somebody decided to get killed, so I'm here to clean up the scrappy remains."

"Touching. I hope you're paid well. The blood stains can be very hard to get rid of," Tony snipes, and ends up hitting his elbow on the side of the bed when he tries to sit up. "Ow. Fuck."

"If you really want to know," Storm huffs, rolling his eye. "I'm here babysitting because Cap refused to leave you alone, and the rest of your bandies are held up some form or another."

"Great. Get mom to pay you—I'm on my way out now."

Before Tony can yank out the IV from his wrist, Johnny slaps his hand away and ignores the indignant yelp of pain.

"I'd love to see you get out of the bed with the damage to your bod," Johnny frowns. "But I made a promise to Cap, so lie still, Stark, and go the fuck to sleep."

"Nick," is all Tony coughs out when he registers the sore aches around his body. "Go fuck yourself, Storm."

"Already did," the human torch drawls smugly.

The engineer sags back on the bed because he's already starting to feel tired out. He registers the dull fuzz from the painkillers that are making around his body, and also the places where there are bandages around.

"I know you didn't sleep with him," Tony states, and he doesn't even know why he says it.

He knows doesn't need to call out Storm on his bluff, especially when the pyro controller smirks even deeper.

"But I kissed him," Johnny replies, grinning. "You have no idea how—"

"—is he—Tony?"

The door creaks open and Tony relaxes the fist he's been curling at the side, and Steve's blonde hair peeks through. After that comes the whole dimple clad smile and Steve rushes forward and basically cradles his face and scans him seriously for at least ten seconds before he lets go, fingers brushing gently against Tony's cheeks.

"Tony, answer me?"

"Uhhhh," Tony replies intelligently. "Hi?"

"You're alright," Steve murmurs, almost disbelievingly. "Thank god. Oh thank god."

"Cap, here, have a seat," Johnny scoots out, shoving Steve down. "I'll go um, inform the rest. Or something."

Steve nods in thanks and focuses immediately back on Tony, which makes the Tony's knot in his chest tighten. "How are you feeling?"

"What do you think?" Tony answers, lifting his arms a little, but even that hurts.

"Concussion, three cracked ribs, punctured lung, broken shin, scrapes, burns and bruises all around," Steve states, and his expression darkens. "You're lucky you landed in a dumpster that cushioned your fall but it still—"

"Yes, yes, got it," Tony waves him off, yawning. "Can I get out of here? I hate S.H.I.E.L.D's medical. It smells like cat pee and—"

"It's been four days," Steve cuts him off quietly, and when Tony cranes his neck around to escape the penetrating stare at him, he notices that Storm has slipped out of the door. "You woke up briefly three times yesterday. The doctor said that if you stayed awake enough to talk you'd be alright."

"I'm awake," is all Tony can think of saying.

The super soldier watches him intently, blue eyes gazing quietly. "…Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

Steve is pressing his lips together, which means that he's starting to get irritated. "Fly off with the bomb. Without discussing other possibilities with the team—"

"Like there was any other option. Really," Tony levels him with a serious look flatly.

Steve is frowning deeply now. "If you had just—"

"What, wasted more time because you won't let me—"

"Why do you always do this?" Steve demands.

"Do what?"

"Make decisions on your own. Disobey direct orders. Is it so hard, really? For once, Tony, could you have trusted me—our team a little bit more—"

"This has nothing to do with that!" Tony growls, rolling his eyes.

He trusted Steve, of course he trusted Steve—

"Then what were you thinking?" Steve half shouts. "This is about your life! You know that you—"

"Would you rather a huge hole in New York right now?" Tony snaps. "Oh, I'm sorry, I tried to save some people! Just trying to do my fucking job!"

"As a team!" Steve retorts. "You don't make decisions on your own that cost your life, you don't disobey direct orders that try to keep you alive, Tony!"

Tony breathes out hard, and steels his jaw. "What makes you so special? You want to talk about trust? Fine. Why is it that I can't be trusted to do something that is clearly right? What else did you think would've happen, huh? You're not stupid, Steve. The bomb needed an energy source, or it'd blow. Do you happen to have a portable sustainable energy source?" he raises an eyebrow. "'Cause I don't think so."

Steve swallows. "Did you know it was going to work?" he stares at Tony. "Don't lie to me, Tony. Did you?"

"…No," slips out, and Tony curses himself inwardly when Steve eyes' harden. "There was a possibility that there wasn't enough juice in this—" he pumps his chest, and suddenly he realises that his arc reactor is working fine, humming softly in his chest. He blinks. "Did someone change it or—"

"Pepper," Steve answers, and Tony winces, because he can totally imagine how many pairs of shoes he owes her now. "I…I watched her replace it," Steve continues, voice wavering slightly. "You went into cardiac arrest twice."

"Huh. I'm glad I don't remember any of it."

It's apparently the wrong thing to say, because Steve looks really upset. "How—"

The door opens, and a man with a stereotypical white coat enters, with Johnny hanging behind. "Captain Rogers, I would like you to wait outside for a moment."

"Oh," Steve stands up quickly. "Oh. Of course."

"Can I leave now?" Tony asks as Steve steps outside with a final lingering look at him.

The supersoldier sighs, leaning against the wall. Johnny pats his shoulder. "You okay there, Cap?"

"Fine," Steve answers absently, and tries to smile, but he's just so tired. "Thanks," he says suddenly. "For watching over him while I was gone."

"Anytime," Johnny grins. "You really needed that bath because you smell really good now," he inhales deeply as if to make a point. "God, what do you use?"

Steve eyes him and Johnny chuckles. "Okay, fine. Don't answer that. Anyway, I informed the rest of your little team. The Widow chick and Legolas number two are still in their intel mission, but the big green dude is on his way. Also—"

"—Steve!" A redhead is almost running up to them, high heels clacking loudly as she approaches hurriedly.

Pepper looks stressed and flustered but she's also still beautiful and strong in her own Pepper way, and even if her eyes are slightly red she manages to sound completely put together. "I came over as fast as I could," she pants slightly. "Is he really awake?"

Steve nods. "The doctor's with him now."

"Oh thank god," Pepper sags in relief.

"Water, Miss Potts?" Johnny holds out a filled paper cup he's taken from the dispenser and smirks charmingly. He also covers his other hand around her fingers when she reaches to take it. "Do you want me to warm it up for you?" he murmurs.

Pepper smiles, half amused. "That won't be necessary, Mr Storm," she says, taking the cup firmly. "I like it better iced."

Steve ends up raising an eyebrow at Johnny who grins back without an ounce of shame. The door opens again and the doctor steps out, adjusting his glasses.

"Mr Stark is fine, but we would like to keep him here for observation for a while more," he sighs a bit more wearily. "If you can, please ensure that he doesn't rip out the IV again."

"Of course," Pepper nods firmly. "Thank you, doctor. For everything."

"It's my job," he replies, turning to walk down the corridor.

"Steve?" Pepper looks at him with a bit of concern. "Go grab something to eat and get some rest."

"But I just went back to the tower and—"

"—and showered, but you haven't eaten nor slept. Go. I'll stay with Tony. Mr Storm, makes sure that he does."

Johnny salutes. "Yes, ma'm."

"I'm just going to be blunt here," Johnny states. "You love him."

They're back again into that little café because Steve has no appetite whatsoever but Johnny insists that he has to take him to a place with some sort of food. Johnny munches on a sandwich and orders the same for Steve, except Steve hasn't touched his. He feels restless, like he needs to hit something but he's too fatigued to actually do any hitting—it's not something the super soldier serum can overcome, because he's been worried sick about Tony ever since he scrambled Tony out of the burnt armour praying that he would be fine, and he had to watch the almost lifeless body jerk with electricity seven times in total to bring him back to life.

"Who?"

But Steve knows exactly who he thinks about anyway.

"Stark," Johnny snorts. "Cap, look. I know."

Steve contemplates playing it off, but Johnny just affixes him with a look. "How?" he says finally.

"Captain, you see but you don't observe," the human torch says. "That talk with you had with Stark was a pretty big neon sign. Or maybe how you haven't eaten or slept properly since he played the martyr."

"I'm just—"

"—worried out of your fucking mind because you can't stand the thought of losing him, again, isn't that right?"

Steve swallows uncomfortably and looks at his tea. "…Yeah," he whispers.

He still dreams of that time when he said close the portal, too early, too soon, and Tony never makes it back. He still sees the hand that he stretches out to Bucky, reach, reach, dammit!, but Bucky doesn't make it either.

Johnny takes a large gulp of his café latte. "Recent near death incident aside, why don't you want to tell him?" he cocks his head. "I mean, sitting around and pinning for it isn't the way the go, right?"

Steve's ears colours slightly and he trains his eyes on the table. "I just, well," he shrugs as nonchalantly as he can. "I'm okay with things as they are."

"I'm sorry," Johnny chokes on a mouthful. "But that—that, were you even trying to lie? Because, woah—"

"I'm not lying—"

"Cap, just, just look at me," the human torch sighs. "You…you're not okay. I'm telling you what's okay: okay is when you don't look sad when you think he's not looking—don't interrupt! I'm saying this because I can see it. Hell, I saw it the first time I met you. Fuck, everyone in the tower sees it but that blockhead—"

"I don't—"

"Yes. Yes you do. Listen: You're not okay with this. You think that pain in your heart is normal whenever you look at Stark?" he raises an eyebrow, pointing looking at the other's chest. "It's eating at you, isn't it?"

Steve presses his lips together and exhales. "…Fine," he says finally. "Maybe it is. Let's say it does. But it doesn't change anything, Johnny. I'm not—I'm not going to do anything because I don't want to."

"I don't get it," Johnny frowns. "You…you've lost some girl when you crashed into the ice, got it from your file, yeah, whatever, anyway; don't you have some kind of…vindication? Like, how precious time is and you've gotta let him know, I mean, both of your lives are kind of on the stick constantly with saving the world shit, so, don't you want to make the most out of the time you have now? I'm not saying either of you are going to die soon, but yeah."

The super soldier gets his point, but he also has his. "It's exactly that. It's not like I haven't thought about that. About Peggy," he smiles briefly. "Maybe we could've done something—I don't know, gone out on a date or maybe I could've…told her…I don't know. But I—we—had a duty. There was a war, and the war was more important than either of us. There just wasn't time for…us. I regret that I wasn't able to…stay, for Peggy, but I don't regret serving my country. And now, well, Tony—I deal with Tony every day. I don't want to change anything between the both of us—I…I don't think I can take that."

"Take what?"

"Take…the aftermath. The 'what if'," Steve murmurs. "What if it doesn't work out? I do know how precious time is. I've got a second chance, don't I? But if this screws us up...I—I don't want to think about how I shouldn't have done it every day after that."

"Sheesh, Cap," Johnny furrows his eyebrows. "All I'm saying is, take a leap of faith. Maybe the guy does like you back. Which I actually know for sure that he does—"

"Tony and I—our friendship…is not something I want to risk," Steve says quietly. "For anything."

"And I'm saying you're risking nothing," the human torch frowns. "Stark is in love with you. Like, fucking madly, deeply in fucking love—"

"You don't know that," the super soldier interrupts quickly, eyes shifting everywhere but on Johnny. "There's no reason…" he sighs. "There's no reason why Tony will like me back—"

At this, Johnny practically chokes on his sandwich and takes at least a minute to clear his throat. "I don't understand," he admits. "Are you saying you think you're not enough for him or what, you don't deserve him?"

Steve shrugs a tiny bit. "Both. Maybe. I mean," he smiles, and it doesn't reach his eyes. "Tony is…the most brilliant man I've ever known. He's got a billion dollars under his feet from the company he built himself, he says he doesn't care but he feeds and houses all of us, he's always there...for me, and—"

"Stark is the one who doesn't deserve you," Johnny cuts in flatly in return. "Cap, you're fucking Captain America. You punched Hilter in the face two hundred times, you saved the world twice, you're—"

"I'm just a kid from Brooklyn."

"—you're fucking impossible," Johnny mutters. "So, bottom line is, you're not going to do anything, even if it makes you miserable?"

Steve response is soft and measured. "It's better if it's only one of us."

Johnny stares at the national icon that he's admired for so long, and he wonders how anyone can be so masochistic. "…You're really pessimistic for a symbol of the people's freedom, you know."

Pepper slaps him the moment she's close enough.

"It really hurts, you know," Tony says dryly into her neck when she grabs him and hugs him tightly right after.

"I glad it does," Pepper huffs, and when she pulls back, her eyes are slightly moist.

Then she slaps him again.

"What the fuck was that for?"

"For dying? For making me change your arc reactor?" she jabs at the device, eyes narrowing sharply. "I meant it when I said don't ask me to do it again!"

"I didn't ask this time," Tony mumbles, wincing because his jaw really hurts.

"God, Tony," Pepper sighs, grabbing his hand to squeeze it. "Please. Don't. Not ever again."

Tony smiles a little, and his silence is raw and open and he's always trusted Pepper this much. "Sorry."

Pepper's lips curl up slightly. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," she says quietly.

Tony looks at her, and looks away. "Then who?"

Pepper knows that she doesn't need to spell it out for him. "You really scared him," she says, watching his expression. "When you went into cardiac arrest the second time, he looked like he wanted to cry. Have you ever seen him cry, Tony? He—"

"I have," Tony interrupts shortly. "Once. Also, that's ridiculous. My heart stopped beating for a second time, big deal. It's happened before and—"

She slaps him again, and the silence after that is re-sounding.

"Don't you ever say it's not a big deal," Pepper states, tone cutting dangerous. "Sometimes you forget that without your heart, your arc reactor is of no use. You have a working beating heart, Tony, even with shrapnels in it. Treasure it."

Tony doesn't say anything, so Pepper sighs.

"Tony," she says to make him look at her. "It's the first time I ever heard Steve panic. He called me and talked so fast I couldn't understand him the first time. When he came in carrying you to your lab he looked so white I thought he was going to faint," she frowns grimly. "When I got a new reactor in, you woke up for a second, then JARVIS informed us that your heart stopped beating again," she paused for a moment. "You didn't see how Steve tried to bring you back. Maybe if you did, you'd see that he really—

"Pepper," Tony cuts in. "Don't."

Pepper presses her lips together.

"Don't."

She doesn't say anything more.

"Turns out it's Doom again," Clint grouses, pointing his loaded bow at the ceiling. "Fucking hell, why am I surprised?"

"Because you have a bird brain, that's why," Tony says from his position on the bed, and Clint points the arrow down at him.

"Clint, put that away, I don't want any more injuries," Steve sighs when he comes in with a jug of water and cups, of which he places on the bedside.

So, Tony is subjected to being bedridden for at least two weeks, and he's benched off any missions for at least a month. By right he should be in medical for another week, but because he was Tony Stark (and by that I mean he bitched so much that even Fury wore down), he managed to get himself checked out. But the downside was that he's confined to his room—and Pepper would know if he tried to sneak out to his lab—then again, he could hardly fucking move.

Ow.

"So, that bomb was a prototype, you said?" Bruce asks, comfortable in Tony's chair near the glass window, which he looks out of.

"Info not classified?" Steve looks over at Natasha, who gives a ghost of a smile.

"It's personal, now," she says, eyes hardening. "We trailed a leak to an underground lab facility, but when we got there, it was empty. We did however find a few crumpled notes in the trash and metal scraps chucked into a storage closet. Seems like Doom was trying to create an energy source—or at least, something that sucks energy."

"Yeah, because it's so much easier stealing shit then actually creating it," Tony scoffs, looking down at his arc reactor pointedly. "I knew he stole my fucking thesis drafts. I knew it. I knew—"

"But the man is missing in action?" Steve interrupts before Tony goes on a wild rant.

Natasha gives a controlled nod, but everyone in the room can feel her annoyance.

"Until next time," Clint says with a squint in his eye as he tightens his fingers around his bow. "Hasta la vista, baby."

It's more boring than you think, lying in bed with nothing to do. Well actually, his room has almost become his workshop except there is no heaving lifting or actual physical work. As much as Tony loves to design and plot out impossible tech, he also likes the satisfaction of actually creating the said impossible tech. He needs to know if it works, and if he's a genius (again), to invent something that bends around the laws of physics. Or the world.

It sucks when JARVIS is under orders to keep his room locked, and frankly it hurts a lot of even get out of bed, so he's very unwillingly staying in bed. Sometimes Bruce comes in with breakfast and Tony clings to him verbally until Bruce excuses himself to go to his lab (ha ha you're not as nice as you think you are, Science Bro.), or sometimes Steve comes in to check up on him. More occasionally Clint will enter and complain about the upgrades Tony promised a month ago, or Natasha shoves painkillers down his throat when he refuses to take any. It's not a pretty sight.

Tony is just flicking through the designs he's made for the next Mark—fuck you, Doom—and he contemplates if limp to the lab is worth it. The door slides open just as he eyes it with intense contemplation, and he blinks.

"Rhodey?"

Rhodey is not in military uniform but in civvies, and he basically glares at Tony like he wants him dead.

"It's nice to see you—OW!"

"That's for trying to get killed," Rhodey huffs, whacking the back of Tony's head again for good measure. "Again."

"Dear god—did you not get the memo that I have a concussion?" Tony demands.

"I hear that you were insisting, and by that I mean pathetic bitching, that you were completely fine yesterday."

"Okay, just what have you heard from Pepper?"

"I didn't have to," Rhodey sighs, dragging a chair from the side to sit by him. "I saw the whole thing on the news after my mission. Did you really have to do that?"

"What, save New York?"

"Kill yourself."

"Honest to god, I actually think Hades has a crush on me."

Rhodey grins halfway but shakes his head. "You gotta be more careful, Tones."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony rolls his eyes. "Heard that one from Captain stick-in-the-ass a million times. It's not like I'm trying to die—"

Rhodey claps his shoulder and looks at him seriously. "Tony. Do you have any idea, any at all, at how worried we were?"

"…Maybe?"

"That's a no," he sighs. "I don't know if you know this, but the Captain—"

Tony sits up so fast that he winces. "Why is it always about Steve now? What has anything got to do with—"

"Shut up," Rhodey hisses. "The Captain called me when you were in ICU. Thank god you have someone who remembers to call me about you," he says with an accusing look. "He wanted me to know that you might not have made it."

Tony looks away. "I'll thank him for that sentiment—"

Rhodey presses his lips together. "You owe him more than that."

"I…I…" Tony rubs at his eyes, and suddenly he feels so tired, like he can't do this anymore. "What are you getting at?" he says finally.

"That you are pinning for Captain America since a year ago, have done nothing about it, banged two people with his face—which is extremely disturbing by the way—also, said person saved your life and you're being a total dick about it," Rhodey answers in a heartbeat. "Question is, why?"

"Why I'm a dick or why all the others?"

"Both. All."

"First off," Tony starts off, indignant. "I'm not in love with Steve. Wha—hey, I'm serious! I'm not in love with—"

"In love," Rhodey snickers, and the stupid idiot is laughing. "Your words, not mine. You really got it bad, huh."

"But I don't!" Tony insists, and he sniffs at the look he gets in return. "Okay, he's fucking gorgeous and sometimes I want to lick him all over but—"

"—I did not need to hear that—"

"—but anyone can appreciate a good ass, right? Come on. You have a man-crush on him. You totally swooned when you did him for History finals—"

"I respect him, not want to make babies with him. It's different." Rhodey states. "Tony, you can be honest about this with me, yeah?"

"I just…"

Tony doesn't want to do this. He doesn't.

"It hurts," he ends up saying, and the bitter twist in his mouth makes it worse. "Whenever he's just…there, I…"

He remembers how he always looks at Steve and the washed realisation of his inadequateness settles in his stomach. He's always wanted Steve but because he was always too afraid of ruining what they had—because Steve would never feel the same way, and oh fuck, it's because he wants better for Steve, and, and—

"I…I really like him," and Tony looks like he's on the verge of having a panic attack. "Oh fuck, I just said it out loud. I'm not supposed to say it out loud. Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

"Hey, hey!" Rhodey grabs his flailing hands. "Calm down. Breathe. Look, you like someone. Has happened before, right? No bigge."

"Rhodey. This is Steve. Steve Rogers. Captain fucking America."

The traitor rolls his fucking eyes. "I'm well aware."

"So? Don't you get my point? I can't—not with him I can't—" Tony's trying to find the right words but it evades him and he ends up babbling words strung together. "What if I—If I screw this up and he leaves and I can't—he doesn't—it's not like he—I can't—can't—"

"Okay," Rhodey raises an eyebrow at him calmly. "What if he likes you?"

"Don't be stupid."

"Why not?"

"He's…" Tony chews on his lip. "He's Captain America."

"Yeah so?"

"So…" Tony sighs, dragging it out. "Why would he want a screw up like me? I'm just a friend who shows him around. Anyway, he's got his bitchin' boy toy Storm now so it's not like he needs me anymore—"

A hand closes around his mouth before he can say anymore. "Why don't you just…talk to him?" Rhodey says and Tony raises both his eyebrows. "Okay, point taken. Your loss, then."

"Hmm, I'd thought you'd be too busy glued to Stark's side to come hang out with me," Johnny grins, waggling his eyebrows. "Glad to see you missed my fabulous ass."

"I needed a breather," Steve says in response, catching the helmet Johnny throws at him.

The human torch stares at him a beat longer than he usually does before he flips the visor down of his own helmet. "Demanding patient?"

"Not really," and the super soldier isn't lying, because even if Tony complains, he doesn't complain to Steve—because for the past week, even if Steve visits him, their conversations are short and pointed and awkward.

It's like Tony can't wait for Steve to get out of his room and the soldier can take a hint, even if all he really wants to do is to slap and hug Tony at the same time.

He's just so glad that Tony is alive and it means so much.

"You sure you don't wanna tell him?" Johnny asks behind his helmet, sounding casual.

"Yeah," Steve says after a while. "I'm sure."

Its better this way, he thinks firmly, revving up the engine on the stunt bike Johnny has borrowed for him, and races to the ramp.

It takes a while (like two weeks), but Tony manages to sneak out his room once he deems that the burn in his body is enough to handle. He overrides the override code because he's the goddamn programmer—ha, take that, Pepper—and JARVIS barely gets a disapproving sentence before he's muted.

He grasps at the walls and limps to the lift, taking a slow ride down to the kitchen. It's pretty late at night and Tony knows Bruce is in his lab and Clint, Natasha and Steve (huh), are out somewhere so perhaps he can grab some coffee before he sneaks down to his workshop.

The coffeemaker beeps when he touches it and he grins, tapping at the screen. "Miss me, didn't cha? Coffee for daddy. Now."

The machine makes a whirring noise but fucking refuses to make coffee.

"I swear you have voice recognition after the last time I took you apart. Why can't you give me the goddamn—"

"You need to say please," and there and then Tony gets a heart attack because an arm reaches over and plucks the machine out of his grasping arms.

"What the f—Steve?" the genius prevents himself from shrieking manly just about, and squints. "What—what are you doing here?" and then he realises he's not supposed to get caught out of bed confinement and oh shit.

"I should ask you that question," Steve says, and he actually doesn't sound angry, which is a surprise. Instead, he sounds fondly exasperated. "I actually thought you'd try to get out sooner."

"Yeah well," Tony snorts. "You see this?" he gestures to his ribs. "It hurts like a bitch."

Steve places the coffee machine back on the table and pats it—and Tony notices the blonde does it like how he does it—and says a muttered 'please', and wow beautiful coffee. Then he pulls out a chair from the table and sits Tony on it, and Tony blinks, silenced.

"You're back," he blurts suddenly.

"…Yeah."

"How was the date?" and then Tony internally hits himself because he totally did not just admit to stalking Steve wherebouts with JARVIS.

"It wasn't a date," Steve protests automatically. "How did you—"

"I heard A Star Spangled Man With A Plan six times today."

"I told you to knock it off!" Steve huffs, rubbing his pocket at where his phone is. "It was…fun. You should come try it sometime."

"Do you know how many people actually die stunt biking? I thought you said I wasn't supposed to act on my self destructive tendencies."

"That was Natasha." Steve's almost smiling, but then it lapses into press of his lips when he realises it's the first time since Tony flew off with the bomb that they're talking like this again.

"Really thought you were gonna chew me out," Tony says after a very long awkward silence that consists of Steve staring at the coffee maker to spew out a cup.

"I want to," Steve answers quietly, tapping idly on the table, and he still isn't looking at Tony. "But you won't listen."

Tony huffs, suddenly indignant. "Hey, I do listen—"

"You hear but you don't listen," Steve corrects him, and sets the coffee in front of him when it's done. "After this, go back to bed."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tony asks, incredulous. "I was in it for two whole fucking weeks—I'm going to the workshop, I have shit to do, and—"

"I told you," Steve snatches the cup back ruthlessly. "You don't listen."

"Coffee," Tony says. "Give it back."

"Not until you promise you're going back to your room. Your body needs rest."

So what if Steve is using his Captain America voice, the one that has the entire team usually silent and obedient? "But it's boring! I'll die if I stay in there for another hour—"

"If you can't deal with recuperation time, then you don't go around trying to kill yourself!"

"For the love of fucking god—I WASN'T TRYING TO KILL MYSELF!" Tony shouts, because why—why would he want to kill himself when he has so many sins to repent for, when he needs to do so much more to make better all the stupid things he's done, to make up for all the lives he's killed and homes he's destroyed—and it's only if his death could do all these things then it is worth it, but no, he'll never die in vain. "—THERE WERE LIVES, OUT THERE, PEOPLE, OKAY, AND I DID WHAT I THOUGHT WAS RIGHT!"

Steve stares at him, and Tony snatches the cup back and tries to stomp off but his ribs hurt from the shouting and he's already feeling drained, but thankfully he's saved from a pathetic limp off when Steve grabs his shoulder gently and turns him around.

"I'm sorry," the soldier says quietly. "I was just…" he breathes hard, closing his eyes, and Tony sees the side of Steve that he rarely shows, only when he's in the gym ripping the punching bags apart. "I was just being selfish. It's…it's not that I don't trust you. In any fight I'd want you to have my back."

"But I can't be trusted to make my own decisions?" Tony presses.

"That's not it," Steve denies, jaw tightening and he struggles to form words. "You're…you're more than just the armour, Tony. You're not expendable," he says, and Tony is suddenly very aware of how Steve's voice echoes in the empty kitchen, of how Steve's thumb is brushing his shoulder gently, of how blue Steve's eyes are. "That's all my point is. I—we need you. So…please. Don't…don't."

Other days he'd say War Machine can easily take his place, or that he already has backup plans to ensure that the funding for Avengers wouldn't die out, or that he's got a list of people he knows can take over the tech upgrades (nowhere as awesome as his, but it'll do), but today he looks at the careful smile that Steve gives him and the eyes that plead him to believe—

And today he nods and says, "Okay."

"So what's this I hear about make up angry hate sex?"

"What?"

Generally Steve ignores Johnny when he talks off tangent, but this time Johnny is looking at him meaningfully and he wants Steve to answer.

"I overheard it from a twitter convo between the Widow chick and Katniss," Johnny informs him, drumming his fingers idly on the countertop. "Something happened between you and Stark like a month ago."

"Nothing," Steve says. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hey," the human torch grins, and he sips at his beer. "Hey. You're blushing, Mister Stars and Stripes. Did you let him blow you or what?"

"What—no!"

And the super soldier wonders why he agreed to hang out in a quiet bar with Johnny Storm of all people—granted, he's beginning to realise that the younger male really just craves company and he isn't really all bad, except for the part where he's taken a personal interest into Steve's love life or lack thereof.

"You blew him."

"I—no," Steve huffs, and he half regrets not feigning ignorance. "We—we just…talked."

"Confession?"

"No."

"Damn," Johnny sighs. "I'm betting on you Cap. Don't disappoint me."

"What bet?" Steve asks suspiciously. "What—did you tell everyone that I…"

"Chill out," the human torch snaps a finger in front of him. "I said nothing to your bandies—the pot's been there since a year ago and I joined in a couple of weeks after I met you. To tell you the truth, your big green doctor is most likely winning."

Steve doesn't know what to feel knowing his entire team is placing bets about him and Tony even before he realised he loved Tony—or maybe just the fact that everyone knows when he's been trying to hide it so carefully all along.

"What else are you guys—"

He doesn't get to complete his question, because phone beeps and the words Avengers Assemble flash across the screen the same time Johnny's phone rings.

"Yeah, what's up—oh," the human torch pouts. "We'll be there in five. Yeah."

"Down twenty two street," Steve says, already pressing a few bills on the table before he strides away, Johnny at his heels. "I hope it's really Doctor Doom, because I have a few words for him," he mutters grimly.

"Don't forget your patriotic fist," Johnny nods, and sighs when he looks at what he's wearing. "Dammit, shouldn't have worn this shirt."

There isn't time to suit up—no reason to run back to the Tower for his suit just to run back again, and Steve is confident someone will fetch his shield for him, so he and Johnny heads to where an apparently Doctor Doom sighting's been mentioned.

It's more than just a sighting, because when they reach the entire street is blacked out with an ominous cackling of electricity fizzing at some of the broken cables.

"Goddamn, he's fucking creepy, even if he isn't putting moves on my sister," Johnny mutters, keeping a careful lookout whilst having a flame in one hand for light.

"Your sister?" Steve blinks, slightly confused, but he keeps his head cocked with concentration as they pace down. "Tony said Doom was after Reed."

"That—…why haven't I thought of that before?" Johnny frowns, and their voices are on the border of a whisper because the entire street is silent and it's getting creepier. "Of course, the whole jealousy shtick. Get the girl, and then the guy. Huh."

A few more seconds of hushed silence passes until Steve's phone vibrates, and he answers it, pressing it to his ear.

"Captain," Coulson intones, crisp. "Twenty three street is taken out. We have reason to believe he's on your six, despite no heat signature on the radar. Be care—"

And suddenly Steve hears the vibration of a metal arm and ducks before it comes crashing too close to his face. Johnny's immediately taken flight with a burst of flame, and the super soldier retaliates with ease, avoiding a blast of electricity sent his away and grabs Doom's arm before he tries to take another hit.

"Ah, Captain," Doom grins—or at least Steve thinks he grins behind that hideous metal mask. "I have yet to thank you for testing my prototype."

"Neither have I," Steve snorts, and uses his phone in his other hand to club Doom on the head.

Some other time he'd worry about disrespecting Tony's tech but today he gets so much satisfaction when Doom actually stumbles from the hit. He sees electricity cackling at Doom's fingertips again and backs off just as Johnny flies by, tackling Doom.

"If you find a water source, I can supernova his ass!" Johnny shouts as suddenly a doombot lands near their vicinity, and many more are walking closer, visible from Johnny's flame.

Steve barely registers the sound of an arrow sweeping past his ear until it lands dead in the centre of a doombot just a footstep away from his elbow. An earpiece is sent flying in his direction and he catches it smoothly, pressing the device into his ear.

"Cap, on your eight," Clint informs him, voice tight with focus. "I can cover your back—get the bloody asshole."

"Roger that," Steve answers, eyes scanning the sudden mess around him.

Natasha's red hair is striking in the dimness, fierce as she ruthlessly takes down one robot after another. Hulk's dull roar rips through the night, and at his right Sue stands at the sidelines and contains the area with her force field. A heavy thud tells Steve that Ben Grimm has joined the fight, and Reed yells for Doom.

There's only one left—

"Cap," Iron man switches off his repulsors and lands loudly next to him. "Looking for me?"

"Looking for my shield," Steve corrects, but he doesn't stop the wide smile when Tony holds it out for him. "You shouldn't be out here."

"I should be rotting in my silk sheets," Tony agrees, snorting. "We had this talk. I'm not benched, just as long as I don't pull off my fucking heroic acts."

Steve nods. "Don't aggravate that rib."

"Yes mom."

"On your five," Steve says without missing a beat, and just like that Tony holds his palms up and blasts the robots coming in their direction. "Hawkeye's got a lock down on the actual Doom. Status?"

"At your nine, he's backing away slowly," Clint informs them. "Widow, he's the one behind the one you're crushing with your thighs."

"On it—"

Except Reed is there already. "Give it up, Victor! You're not going to win!"

"Except that I always have," Doom smirks. "Against you, always."

"Cap, I'm going to get behind him and you take him out with your shield. I don't think Mr Bendy can take the electricity jab if there's a direct hit."

It should work out like Tony has planned—sweet, easy victory—the moment when he starts blasting Doom with his repulsors, the villain immediately snarls, drops Reed and focuses his attention onto the metal suit. Iron man advances ruthlessly, because Victor has last cost him his last Mark that he was actually pretty fond of. Payback's a literal bitch, and Tony doesn't care if its overkill but he lets off his blasts in rapid succession, until Doom is struggling to avoid the hits and he staggers on the pavement.

Tony sees Steve's shield coming in to take a hit but then Doom grabs the iron man suit and the shield grazes off Doom's side. Metal fingers are over the arc reactor in a split second, and then Tony gasps because he feels it—the power draining out of his chest, out of his suit, and he's not supposed to feel cold but he does.

"Sir, power levels are fast depleting. Sixty-five…sixty-four...sixty-three—"

It's like a replay of the bomb except its different, because this isn't about him now but Steve. He knows it even before Doom turns his neck and looks over to the super soldier, stretching his arm out. It's like watching a video in slow motion. He sees very clearly the direction the blast from Doom's fingertips is going to take, and he's already trying to yank himself out of Doom's grip—but no, he's too far away and he just stares at how the shot goes through Steve—and Steve crumples to the ground.

And he doesn't get up.

Dimly, Tony is aware of Johnny's panicked yell coming from somewhere and suddenly the intercom in his suit is buzzing with worried questions from everyone else. He isn't paying much attention to the words, nor is he really paying attention to what's he's doing—all he's doing in staring, and staring some more.

Somehow this feels different from all the other time he's seen Steve take a hit. This feels cold and empty and Tony isn't sure if he's breathing anymore. He is still grasping at Doom's hand, and JARVIS' voice intones continues to recite down the numbers, but that isn't important because nothing else is fucking important.

"Everything to the reactor," Tony says.

"Sir, that—"

"Now," he snaps, voice starting to crack at the edges. "Three, two, one—"

The blast of energy from his reactor blinds him and he's thrown on his back from the impact. He doesn't really care as he scrambles up; coughing from the jolts his arc reactor is flickering with. He doesn't care whether Doom is really down or he got away or—he doesn't fucking care.

"Fuck! Medical! Captain America down, does anyone fucking copy?" Johnny is over at Steve's fallen form, shouting to the general vicinity. "Oh god, oh fuck!"

Without really thinking Tony shoves his way amongst the rest, tripping over his feet and coughing violently, closer and closer to the lying unmoving form of Captain America—and he sees blood.

So much blood.

He falls to an automatic kneel and his mask eases up. His hands shake uncontrollably, hovering over the white shirt now rapidly stained red, and they don't stop shaking even as he traces the wound hole over Steve's stomach carefully.

"S-steve?"

He doesn't recognise his own voice anymore.

"Steve, oh god, listen to me," he's starting to babble, and the distinct tremor in his voice isn't going away. "You…you can't…"

He sees Steve flickering his eyes up, and he nearly chokes.

"Oh fuck, oh god, oh god," he tries to rip off his gauntlets as fast as possible, and then tries to cover the gaping bleeding hole. More blood pours through and it soaks his hands, he's barely even aware of what's he's really doing but it needs to stop. It needs to stop now. "Steve, don't…don't…close your eyes, I swear to fucking god I—I…don't—"

A brush against his knee catches his attention and its Steve clawing weakly at him. Tony catches the hand into his without a thought, and all of it is dyed red.

"D-don't—don't speak, just...don't—"

The hand is tugging again, and Tony understands that Steve is trying to tell him something.

"No, no—whatever it is, I won't hear it—not until…u-until…Steve, please, just don't—"

But Steve pulls a little harder, and rasps. "T-ony…I—" The rest is a silent mumble of his lips.

"Steve? S-steve? Fuck, Steve!" Tony clenches the grip he has tightly. "Steve?" He's nearly shouting now, but it's useless, because the supersoldier's eyelids are starting to slide shut. "Steve, listen to me. Please, please, please…don't do this, don't you fucking dare do this—"

He's barely registering the hand in his that starts to loosen.

"—oh god, please don't do this—oh god, oh god—Steve, if you can hear me, don't you fucking dare—"

"—STEVE!"

A/N: Very sorry for all those who're hanging on Cantarella - I swear I'll get the next chapter up at some point, because now that I've finally finished this fic (HUZZAH) I can finally write something else.

Last and final chapter for this will be posted within the next week or two.

Happy new year's, people.