After I reach Chapter 10, I'm going to take a couple days off to let more people to catch up. ^_^ Thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews. Really, you have no idea what the feedback means to us.

"No, Clint, don't change the subject. That rattled you. Are you not aware that Captain America died in an air crash before the war even ended?" Tony's eyebrows raised. "A copycat?"

"No."

"What was his name again? I can't recall it, but-"

"Tony, please..."

"It was in my father's files. He worked with my father. It's on the the tip of my tongue."

"Tony!"

Steve just stared at her before he finally broke the gaze and just let out a sigh. "You're right," he muttered and rubbed a hand over his face. "Sorry. This is all just... you know."

"I know."

"Yeah," he slowly pushed himself away from the wall before he glanced back towards Tony's room. Was he ready to go back in there, really?

Tony stared at Clint, expression determined. "Dammit, what was the name? I swear I can almost get it, but-"

"Steve," Clint finally snapped before he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. God, wasn't Tony stubborn? But he should be happy now, he told him what he wanted to know. Wait...shit.

"Steve..." Tony confirmed. "That's it. Steve Rogers."

"That's the one," Clint said a bit sourly at being interrogated (and essentially giving in), "He was-"

"Frozen in the ice. I loaned Fury my resources to help fish out the area to find what he could," Tony's eyes widened considerably as gears began turning and realization set in. "Steve's right out there, isn't he? How in the hell am I married to a man that's supposed to have been dead for 70 years?"

"That's not my story to tell."

Steve took a deep breath and readied himself for another round. He noticed the door was closed, and he was grateful Clint took measures so that Tony didn't hear them talking. He had enough to worry about, he supposed. He turned the handle and put on a serene expression...

"Steve Rogers! I know who you are!"

Steve's jaw dropped the instant those words left Tony's mouth. "Yeah," he finally said when he realized he should probably speak. "That's me. Do you...?" he trailed off for a moment, a part of him suddenly hopeful. Had Tony remembered everything? Or just a little bit? What was the deal? He moved closer to the bed (though his movements were slow and careful), waiting for an answer.

Clint shrugged when Steve looked to him and he glanced at Nat, his eyebrows raised slightly. It was clear he was afraid of this getting a bit awkward. She just glared back.

"Captain America. Just a normal kid from Brooklyn wanting to make a difference, ended up becoming the most famous symbol for America during World War 2. You worked with my father, Howard Stark. I read about you as a kid." Tony exclaimed, excited now.

Steve's heart plummeted. "Oh. Right, yeah. You'd mentioned that before."

"No, I-" It dawned on Tony then. "I guess I have. But you have to tell me, again, how did you survive that time in the ice?"

Steve realized that his excitement wasn't because he'd remembered something important, but now he had something to mull over and figure out scientifically to take up his time.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck before he sat down, shrugging slightly. "You know, superhuman abilities and all that," he mumbled. He couldn't help but feel extremely disappointed right then- Tony might remember him, but he didn't remember them, and that was heartbreaking for Steve. He didn't want another fanboy. He wanted his husband.

Natasha cleared her throat. "Is that all you remember?" she asked bluntly, looking at Tony expectantly.

Tony felt like a real ass now. They all looked disappointed. He'd hoped that picking something up about what he didn't know would at least ease the tension. It didn't. So much for that. "That's all."

Steve closed his eyes and rested his head on his hands. "Tony, I swear, you're going to be the death of me."

"I sure as hell hope you were warned of that as we said our vows." Tony tried to grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I was."

"Well, then, there you go. Now, can someone please smuggle me a cheeseburger, since you refuse to get me out of this place? And see if I can get out of this gown for sweat pants or something. I feel like I'm a prisoner in this. And, Nat, can you do me a favor?" Tony's eyes lightened up considerably.

Natasha rolled her eyes. Here it goes, she thought, Tony has begun his endeavor to annoy the hell out of everybody so they'll have to throw him out of the hospital.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes as Tony began to rattle of request. He'd been wondering when the genius would start this.

"I could go for a cheeseburger," Clint stated as he abruptly stood up. "I'll go sneak some in for us." Nodding, he left the room, though it was clear he was probably leaving to escape the awkward situation.

Natasha sighed. "You want a favor?" she finally asked, staring at Tony with a dull expression.

"Ouch. With that look, I'll take it I'm not that different when I ask for something. Are you still my personal assistant?" Tony asked.

"No."

Steve looked at her, confused. "Yes, you are," he said, "Fury ordered you to continue to be in case- Oh."

Natasha glared at Steve until he got the hint, then at his bewildered expression, she felt like bursting out laughing. Steve Rogers just could not lie, or know when to keep a lie.

"So you are still," Tony's expression was amused. "Okay, I need you to threaten the nurses or the doctors or whoever has the power."

"The power to get you out, you mean?"

"Yes."

"No."

"C'mon!" Tony whined. "At least ask when I can get out of here so I can make a deal with them to get out earlier."

"Tony, you shouldn't try to rush out of here. Not after the way you were injured," Steve said, concerned for his husband. A small, worried frown crossed his features then. "Not to mention, the doctors won't release you until they see fit, even if you are Tony Stark."

Natasha nodded at that. "He's right. And I'm not going to threaten the workers here."

Tony let out a frustrated sigh. "Oh, fine," he said sourly, dropping the topic, for at least the moment. "Can I at least get actual pants to wear? This hospital gown is killing me here. Seriously."

"Oh," Steve moved to the cardboard box then. "I thought to bring some. Figured you'd start asking..." he trailed off as he pulled the pants from the box, a very slight blush forming on his cheeks when he realized what he'd done. Lately, Tony had been sleeping in a pair of Steve's old sweatpants (despite the fact that they were really too big on him), and in his emotional rush at the tower, had grabbed that pair instead of ones that actually belonged to the billionaire. Well. Now he felt like an idiot. Tony wasn't going to wear these pants.

Tony looked at the pair of sweatpants and pretended not to notice Steve's blush. Why would pants make him blush? He took the pants from Steve, and the fabric felt so soft he could use it as a pillow. He also accepted a plain black t-shirt, grateful for the dark color to hide his bandages that were wrapped around his chest.

"Uh..." Tony looked to Natasha to Steve, then to the pants, hoping they'd take the hint.

Steve blinked in realization. "Natasha and I will be out in the hallway. Holler when you need something." The words were said very casually, but Tony could see a pained look on Steve's face, though it disappeared as quickly as it came.

When the door closed, he threw back the covers and swung his feet off the bed. So far, so good. He slowly stood on his feet, swaying a little but otherwise all right. He threw off the hospital gown and took the pair of pants and began to put them on.

"Tony, why are you wearing those old sweatpants?"

Whoa.

A/N: What's the matter with Tony now?