"Stark, hold on a minute, will you?" Steve called when they got back to the tower. The billionaire had been silently fuming the entire flight away from the helicarrier, bolting off the quinjet the first moment he got.
Everyone had been quiet on the ride over. It was a terrible thought, that they had failed their friend even in death. But none seemed to be taking it quite so hard as Stark. The inventor didn't even turn to heed the Captain's call, just kept walking towards the door and dodging the equipment meant for detaching his Iron Man suit.
"Tony, wait!" Steve tried again, fingers brushing the man's elbow as he tried to catch him. This time, the billionaire did turn, and it was only then that the soldier was able to see the tears shimmering in his dark eyes.
"For what, Steve? I fucked up, alright? I know that. I should have checked the records sooner. God damn, I was so fucking stupid . Who in their right mind would trust Fury to do the right thing?"
Tony looked directly in Steve's eyes, as if daring him to say something, daring him to say it wasn't his fault.
Instead, the Captain did something he never thought he'd do. He simply stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the shorter man's shoulders, clasping him tightly in his embrace. For a moment, the inventor stiffened, and Steve worried he would push him away. Relief flooded through him when Tony instead relaxed into the embrace, shoulders trembling as his forehead fell to rest on Steve's shoulder. To anyone else, the moment might have looked serene, but Steve was shaking just as much as the man he held. Tony Stark was crying on his shoulder, because with his best friend gone, and Pepper having left him months ago, he was all alone. Inwardly, Rogers cursed himself for letting it go on so long, letting Stark keep to himself and hide beneath his attitude for so long. As a Captain, and as a friend, he should have known. Tony had no one, now. Not a single soul to confide in, and Steve had been too lost in his own guilt to see it. Of course he wasn't the only one blaming himself, but damn if he was going to let Tony face another day with this burden on his shoulders.
"We'll get him back. We'll make this right," the soldier whispered into his ear, purposely keeping the tremble from his voice. Tears burned the back of his own eyes, but this was not the time to release them. Right now, Tony needed him. And right now, Bruce needed them.
Stark seemed to have the same thoughts, because after a moment, he pulled away from the embrace long enough to tell Jarvis to alert his pilot and get a jet ready, because they were leaving in an hour. With a final squeeze of the shoulder, Steve let Tony go, grateful to see his eyes clearer now. The man walked away with a nod, to go do whatever it was he needed to prepare for the mission. Rogers turned around to find Natasha and Thor looking at him, the redhead quirking a smirk that didn't reach her eyes. Thor seemed lost to himself, looking like he had when he had learned of the doctor's death in the first place. Steve cursed himself again for not making sure the man had seen the body before they cremated it, to get that sense of closure the rest of them had gotten. This time, he would make sure the thunderer got to say his goodbyes properly.
"Rogers, what are your orders?" Natasha asked after a moment. She was never one that liked to stand around idly, especially when the body of the man she loved was being treated like a science experiment. The possessiveness she had for his corpse surprised her. She'd never really been one for sentiment. If her comrades fell in the field, she accepted their loss and moved on. Never before had she had the urge to hold their corpse in her arms, or kiss their forehead in goodbye. But with Bruce, she was almost excited at the prospect of seeing his face again, even if the body would be mostly preservatives by now. In some horrific, distant part of her mind, she wondered if they had skinned him, if there would even be a face left to see. Those thoughts were quickly banished, if not completely forgotten. Images like that were not what she wanted to think about right now.
"I assume you're going to be coming with us. So for now, go pack, grab everything you need, and tell Barton. He'd want to know," Steve replied, earning an approving nod from the spy before she ran off to do as he asked.
"And what would you have of me, friend?" Thor prompted, watching the redhead go.
"Would I be correct in assuming you'll also be coming with us?" Rogers returned, crossing his arms as he surveyed the demigod with curiosity. Thor had surprised him these last few months. While he had always been physically affectionate to those he liked, he had really stepped up on the touches these last few weeks. Forthcoming with both words of praise and gestures of understanding, the man had seemed to make it his mission in life that none of his teammates forget their worth, or their importance in his life. It was as if Bruce's death had opened his eyes to how pathetically short mortal lives were, as he called them. Perhaps the demigod was already preparing himself for the day he would have to bid farewell to the rest of them, as well.
"I should not be happy to find myself left behind again, Captain. My place is with the team, especially on matters concerning our fallen brother."
"Alright, then go gather what you'll need. Meet us in the common room in thirty, that should be enough time for Stark to get a car for us," Steve said. Thor smiled, clasping him on the shoulder before departing after Natasha.
"Jarvis, relay those instructions to Tony and Natasha, if you will. I don't want to delay any longer than we have to," Rogers added as he stepped into the elevator. It seemed Thor had taken the stairs, or had simply flown to his own balcony to reach his floor. The soldier was alone.
Only then did Steve allow his shoulders to sag, and a few burning tears to sneak past his own heavy defenses. The news of Fury's betrayal was like ripping the scab off a burning wound and soaking in with rubbing alcohol. The knowledge that he had failed his teammate, once again, stung more than anything else. But this time, he was going to make sure things were made right, if it was the last thing he did.