Rather violent chapter, this time. Sorry if that's not okay for anybody. Won't happen often, I promise.
Actually, this one is one and a half chapters, but the half was too short to make an own chapter.
Don't own WALL-E, or the Avengers, or Apple, or Apollo 18 (I unfortunately hadn't time to watch it... :( ).
Also, I have never read the comics, which leads to me not knowing A THING about Tony's childhood apart from what is told in the movies. I just hope it is okay the way I interpreted other fanfiction/made up his childhood.
The giant STARK tower was actually not that far away. One, maybe twohundred metres. And maybe twohundred metres over the ground, there was maybe Tony. What would he be doing? Inventing something? Being in the lab with Bruce? Quarreling with Natasha? Joking with Clint? And Thor. Was he there, too? And his girlfriend? And what about Pepper?
Steve remembered staring up to the tower the day he got his apartment, the day he had looked as the files first, the day he had discovered Howard had a son. The day he had met this waitress first. She had asked wether he was waiting for Iron Man to fly by.
Well, she was still working at that café. When the Chitauris had attacked New York, she had be with the cornered civilians. He had probably saved her life.
He imagined her being a nice person, even though he had never talked to her. Well, not really at least. Her name was Beth.
What would she say if he would ask her for help? Would she tell him to give Tony another chance?
The billionaire probably didn't mean it. Probably.
Steve was back in his apartment when his phone rang. SHIELD hat given him a crash course concerning mobiles, phones and computers (Since Agent Moll, who had been assigned with teaching him this modern stuff, had left the apartment, he hadn't touched any of this stuff). The mobile had been a necessarity, Fury had said.
The phone was apparently an iPhone 4, whatever that meant. Fury had given it to him with the words: "You can text, phone and surf as much as you want, download apps or whatever, SHIELD will cover that. Just make sure it's always properly charged and you have it with you. And don't make it wet, that'll break it."
Not that Steve had tried surfing with the phone. Whatever Moll had said about surfing, he didn't want to break any of this electronic stuff. Hadn't he been told not to get the phone wet? So how was he supposed to surf with it?! And also, this phone was too tiny to make a good surfboard.
Maybe Moll had told him what surfing with a phone meant, but he really had no clue. Because, well, he hadn't listened. so the only thing he was able to do with this iPhone (why did they write it like this?) was accepting calls.
And since the screen said he had an incoming call from Tony, and since he had agreed with himself on giving the genius another chance, he would take it. And so he pressed the answer button (okay, Moll had told him to be gentle with the phone, but he wanted it to react, so he had to press like it was a real button, didn't he?).
"Hey, Steve, whatcha up to?"
Honestly, couldn't Tony talk normal english instead of this slang?
"Hello, Tony."
Just stay polite.
"So, Barton and Romanov have left us for Ouagadougou – don't ask me where that is – and Bruce and Josie..." He faded for a moment.
"Who's Josie?" Steve asked.
"Dunno, man. I always forget her name, but it's Thor's girlfriend."
"You mean Jane Foster."
"Yup, that's it. So, Foster and Bruce are having fun with Thor and his hammer – you won't believe it, but it has a name! And nobody can pronounce it – well, I can, and everybody else, but, honestly, who names their weapon Mjölnir? And this strange 'Ö' letter... well, whatever... Oh, fun, yeah, I mean they are in the lab with it, they're not... whatever.
Anyways, Pepper isn't here either. She's in L.A. right now, and I got nobody that would go to the cinema with me. There is a re-run of 'Wall-E', and I failed to watch it before, and I don't want to go alone. So, care to join me?"
Steve thought about it.
"What's the movie about?", he asked cautiously.
"Well, humans have left earth, and there is just one little robot cleaning up, and he finds the last plant, and then a spaceship comes and takes him and the plant with him, and then, at the end, humans come back to earth.", Tony summarized. "And it's animated. And no gunfire, no bombs, so you should be safe."
Steve chose to ignore the last part.
"When do you want to go?", he questioned, remembering him wanting to give Tony one last chance.
"Dunno, saturday at eleven? The cinema is called- oh, you know what? I'll get you at, let's say, ten thirty?"
"Okay."
"Great, see you then." Tony hung up without saying goodbye. He left a miserable Captain America.
Showering for the third time this day – he usually showered when he was thinking or making decisions. Unlimited hot water was the only good thing about this century. – Steve thought this phone call over. The movie sounded harmless. But he didn't like the cinemas in this time.
"Okay, Rogers, now you are becoming picky. It is not Tony's fault that Moll took you to 'Apollo 18'. And it's not Tony's fault you were scared by that movie. 'WALL-E' will be completely harmless, and you will like it. Also, you wanted to give him another chance."
Steve shook his head. So now he was already talking to himself. Where the hell would that lead? This time was driving him insane!
"I didn't cry!"
"Yes, you did. I saw you wiping a tear away."
"I didn't. This big screens... my eyes are just not used to that, so they are watering."
"Yeahhhh... suuuure!"
"That's the truth!"
"Liar!"
"I'm not lying!"
"Yes, you are! Captain America, fattest liar on earth... I'm disappointed!"
"That's-"
"Whatever. Tell me, Cap, why did you move out? House too big for you?"
"That's none of your business!"
"My house, my business."
"But it's my life, and whatever I'm doing with it is my business and nobody else's!"
Tony rolled his eyes – Steve could see it. The movie was over and they had – or rather Tony had – decided that he wanted to walk a little. Which was why they were now walking along some smaller streets. Steve wouldn't have thought that not all streets were so monstrous.
"And" Steve decided to pull his last weapon. "Pepper told you that you won't even think about it."
The billionaire sighed.
"Yeah, whatever. Just one question?"
"No."
"Okay, so was it because of the movie incident?"
"I said no."
"Yeah, and I decided not to care."
"You're an ass, Tony."
"You have no idea!" he suddenly spat.
"No idea of what?"
"You were not the one who grew up without a father, without a mother! My father drove himself crazy while searching for you! He didn't sleep, he often enough didn't eat, he-"
"Well, you've got that from him." Steve shot back.
Tony spun around to face him.
"You were my hero!" he growled. "Since I was young, I always heard the stories of you greatness, your hero-ness, how nice and clean and whatever you were, and what great stuff you did! Those were my bed-time stories, my all-the-day stories, all I ever got from him! And I always told him that, one day, I'll be his Captain America, just for him. And everytime he told me that I couldn't ever reach that! Because you had been better in everything!"
Tony pushed Steve back against a wall. The street was small, too small for cars, and dark. Tony had insisted on going that way, it would be a shortcut.
"I was never good enough! Not for him, and my mother didn't care about me anyways. I would come down to the lab with drawings of him, and you, and me, and he would send me away. Got worse in school."
His anger had been replaced by bitterness.
"When I came to him, wanting to show him a test where I got a good mark, he would absent-mindedly look at it and then shoo me away, saying something along the lines that oh yeah, how nice it was and that I should go somewhere else and not interrupt him, he had a trace. I'd better study or be quiet, and I shouldn't annoy my mother. I was freaking six or something! And then I buried all that. Every day, I kicked the great hero Captain America out of my life. I build myself my own life, became my own master. Nobody could bait me with challenges to be as good as you were. Everything you did from my father's stories, I didn't do. And I was good at it! I kept the company, I invented, I became my own hero! And then Fury dragged me into this freakshow, and there were you! The man I wanted to reach so desperately, yet never could. And then I realized: You were not as good, as clean, as nice, as heroic as my father wanted me to believe! You were just another guy, better than some, worse than others. So all the time, my father had lied to me again!"
Tony gave Steve a final push and turned to walk away. The super soldier didn't know what to say.
"So, should I say that I'm sorry?" he asked finally, as Tony was already ten metres ahead of him.
"You could just fucking vanish out of my life!" came the answer.
"Well, that's what I tried! I moved out of the tower, and back into my apartment. I didn't even want to see you again-"
"So it's me, right?"
"Isn't it always?"
"You're trying to give me the fault for not acting like I was your daddy or something? 'Oh, hey, Steve, look, this is a smartphone. Push this button, and you can call someone!' – 'Hey, great, Tony! Thanks for showing me' – 'You're welcome, Steve!' Is it that what you want?"
They had reached some small bar which door and windows were the only things providing light in the small street. It was noisy. Why hadn't they noticed before?
Suddenly, the door opened and a group of men stumbled out, momentarily increasing the noise.
Steve's serum enhanced vision automatically focused on them. They were eight men, about as tall as himself, but much broader. Exactly the kind of people that one would expect to start a fight when drunk.
They were slurring, obviously drunk beyond recall.
Steve tensed and watched them restarting the fight they had obviously been having inside. It reminded him of nights decades ago, where he would say something and then end up with a bloody nose.
Insults were exchanged between the men, getting worse and worse. And then, the first one insulted one another's mother.
It took Steve some seconds to realize that the men had actually started a brawl and were now blocking the street. Tony was on the other side of the bunch. Whom did he wait for? Steve? Pretty sure not.
One of the drunks was pushed by another one and staggered towards him. When the man stopped one step before Steve, he noticed the scent of cheap alcohol, vomit and sweat. A disgusting mixture.
"Whatchur lukn' att?(1)" the man slurred.
This was when it all went wrong. Getting another push, the man stumbled towards Steve, who shoved the hand that reached for his shoulder away, lightly.
"Ditcha hit me?(2)" the drunk growled.
"'ey guuyys, he hit Brad!(3)" a not-so-drunk called.
"Who'sat, Braaaad?(4)" a blonde asked.
The not-so-drunk pushed the blonde aside and tottered towards Steve. Well, maybe not not-so-drunk but really drunk.
"Yera bastard 'n ah hate bastars.(5)"
"I didn't hit him-" Steve ducked unter the fist that was thrown at him, just to be hit in the ribs by Brad. It didn't hurt much, but he was taken by surprise and the impact punched the air out of his lungs. What had he gotten himself into again?
"Aye, Jimmy, jus' help me. Wer gonna do 'im." not-so-drunk said.
Jimmy managed to kick Steve in the knee while he was occupied by not-so-drunk. Steve flinched and got a blow from the blonde, whom he managed to trip.
Tony wasn't quite sure what to do. True, his team member was just being beat up by a couple of drunks looking like heavywheight professional world champion boxers... but that was Captain America, after all. The star-spangled man with a plan. Then he saw Steve getting three hits at once. Why the hell didn't the guy do anything?!
Well, okay. One guy suddenly found himself in a heap of garbage. Maybe there was hope left for the Captain, because Tony did not really want to have to save Captain Americas star-spangeled backside. But then someone managed to kick the blonde between the legs, probably rendering him sterile – Tony flinched himself – and the Captain fell down on his knees.
Tony decided to act, because getting kicked there was really something he wouldn't even wish Rogers.
"Okay, guys, I think you got it all wrong." he stepped up.
"Do you want trouble, sweetie?" Another man got out of the shadows. Letting his cigarette fall and putting it out with his boot, he halted before Tony, blowing some smoke towards him. Not only that this guy was at least two heads higher than him and had muscles like the Hulk, the additional harsh voice that surely came from smoking made the scenario even scarier.
"Ahm..." Why didn't his super brain make up a good answer when he desperately needed one?
"See, that guy your friends are beating up, he's kinda my friend."
More smoke into his face. "Aren't you Tony Stark?"
Tony nodded. The push to his chest was unexpected and made him stumble backwards. His back met another body. Re-arranging his body balance, he slowly turned around. He bit his lip, analyzing the facts.
Next thing he knew, he was on hands and knees, choking violently. He hadn't even seen it coming. The taste of metal was in his mouth. After that, a kick to the ribs. He rolled on his side and tried to cover his head with his arms.
Steve felt being violently yanked upwards to face cigarette man, who had pushed Tony towards the crowd. He was pretty sure his nose was bleeding, his jaw felt swollen, and his right hand hurt even more than the rest of his body – the result of probably 250 lbs stepping on it. Also, his groin was still sending red bolts of pain through his body.
"Captain America." cigarette man grinned. "Pleasure meeting you."
There was a fist and then his view went black and his body numb.
I have honestly no idea how one speaks when drunk and american. I don't even have an idea how one speaks when drunk and speaking my language, so I just made that up. Here's the translation, in case I wrote total nonsense:
(1) What are you looking at?
(2) Did you hid me?
(3) Hey guys, he hit Brad! (That wasn't too hard, I think.)
(4) Who's that Brad?
(5) You are a bastard, and I hate bastards!
I hope you enjoyed it so far, as the action is about to start now.
But another thing is about to start in 3 days, and that's school. What do I want to say with that?
School=studying
Studying=less time
Less time=stress
Stress=less muse
Less muse=less story-writing
Less story-writing=less updates :(
*~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~*
In this case, I HAD to edit it, because Steve seemed waaaaay to weak. He still does, but that's stuff I can explain later on :)
I'm sorry :( But I won't stop writing, that's for sure!
And if you are playing scattergories (I hope that is the right name; you pick a letter of the alphabet, and now you and the people playing with you have to find a city, country, river, band name, vegetable or whatever you have agreed on [12 different topics] with this letter as the first as fast as they can), always remember Ouagadougou as a city, that will probably save you, because nobody EVER takes Ouagadougou as a city (and it does exist! It is the capital of Burkina Faso, Africa).