A/N
Hey guys!
Sorry for not posting, starting school's a real pain.
Anyways, here's the next chapter. I finished it in a rush and it may not be very good.
But I promise the next chapter will be better.
As always, please review and hope you like the story so far! :)
Wandervibes28
P.S If any reader has read my stories but REALLY wants to unfollow me due to my alert chapters, PLEASE PLEASE do. It's better for all of us. You have my blessing :)
P.P.S To all my true readers who support me, thank you. I promise I'll finish every story I started. May take a while, but it will be taken care of.
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure he-…-I think-….-it will be fine…" Bruce tried his hand at comforting to the blonde man next to him who was obsessing about the previous night's events, yet not trying to speak for Tony.
"No Bruce. I messed up really bad…I don't know how to fix it. I don't know if I can…" Steve replied, head down as he continued making the batter, some of it spilling onto the island counter as he continued mixing it together until the batter became a thick consistency. Then, he moved it into a sleek, grey metallic cooking pan, while switching on the induction to start making the first pancakes.
The black circles glowed up into a flaming red and he gingerly put the pan onto the stove, watching the pancake batter form into a circular shape as his mind started to wander.
Steve had woken up the next day in the hallway and had realised that he had probably over-intruded Tony's stay in Wakanda. As in, way over the line, considering the fact that they hadn't talked since over 3 years and there was a very strong reason for it.
And so he had gotten up and decided to distract himself and his thoughts.
Mostly his thoughts.
After finishing helping T'Challa clear up some more local fights that had erupted early in the morning, which hadn't been very bad, he randomly yet not at the same time, eventually reached the kitchen.
He had nearly wandered off to the living room to sit in guilt with the rest of the team until his stomach had suddenly growled as if it was trying to present it's presence as he had passed by the kitchen. And so he had shifted his trajectory from the living room to the kitchen.
Also, he always cooked to take his mind off things. That and the gym.
Cooking was easier.
He had decided to make pancakes, because he knew how to make them easily, and also because knowing that Tony would eventually wake up sometime, and the solider knew that Tony always wouldn't mind eating pancakes.
Hopefully.
Well, at-least he knew from past experiences. He hoped he was right this time.
Plus, he needed to find a way to solve this.
Because he couldn't see Tony cry again. God no, he couldn't.
Eventually Bruce had walked in, probably wondering about his absence from the living room as the super solider would have normally reached there at 8 am sharp, but when upon realising that the solider had taken the time to make breakfast, he had decided to accompany him.
Plus the doctor would get food too, and that was a benefit. He probably would have come to get coffee too.
Like how Tony used to do.
Bruce and Tony were the only two in the tower who drank coffee to keep their minds fuelled in the nights. Well, mostly Tony, as Bruce only indulged occasionally in the exuberant beverage, preferring the calming effect of some herbal tea rather than the buzz of caffeine.
However, Tony had never minded.
That man practically ran on coffee. If he had to be described in an equation, he would have one symbol for coffee, as stated by the genius himself. Steve and Bruce had taken a lot of coaxing to get the mechanic to actually eat something for breakfast rather than relying on nothing substantial.
But of course, with the proviso that coffee counted as one of the substantial things that he could have for breakfast.
They had agreed.
After all, Tony usually never helped to meet 'in the middle'.
Steve shook his head out of his thoughts when his eyes finally recognised the overflowing of the batter onto the floor of the marble kitchen island.
"How can I fix it Bruce?" the captain asked as he flipped the pancake, the brown side revealing it's beautiful baked goodness as it sizzled in the pan, leaving behind an aroma of vanilla. Then he shifted towards the island, starting to clean the mess that he had conveniently made on the very costly counter top.
T'Challa's home was almost like Tony's tower. Costly. Extravagant, and pretty much just a lot of money in ordinary things.
Yet, somehow it reminded him of….home…
But yet hadn't since the last 3 years, until now…..
…..for some weird reason.
Steve hadn't been able to sleep, probably some memories striking him, and so he had watched news on the TV practically until morning. His everyday routine involved waking up, eating food, doing work, sitting in silence and companionship with the team, and sleeping.
Yet not sleeping, as he never could. It just wasn't….home…
Especially not from yesterday.
He couldn't keep the memory from replaying in his mind all night. The anger and betrayal he saw in Tony's eyes before he got socked in the face. He tried to come up with ways to solve it while making breakfast, but couldn't.
He couldn't take back what he'd done. He just wished Tony knew why he did.
The easiest way to solve this, his mind said, was by simply talking to the genius himself and figuring it out.
But that rose a number of problems.
One, Tony wouldn't talk to him. For sure. Without arguing at-least.
And Two, Tony hadn't yet woken up, at nearly noon.
But they didn't blame him. The genius would probably be exhausted, hurting and probably would be regretting his actions by now. He had been through so much, nobody disturbed him, letting Tony sleep peacefully in his assigned guest room.
"I'm not good at helping with…social issues. You know that Steve…." Bruce tried to explain, his voice trailing off for a second as Steve flipped the pancake to it's original side, and when finding it was ready, he pulled out a black serving tray and stacked the first pancake onto the plate before moving onto putting the next batter.
"….But I think it will be okay….You probably may take time to bond again, I guess, but you both have been great friends for years, so I think you could start talking again….just don't hurt him like that again, I guess-..-sounded like it was pretty rough for him…" he finished off, not really sure whether what he was saying was right, but trying to comfort the man anyways.
Steve only nodded, knowing that he wouldn't know the answer anytime soon, and instead proceeded to start asking another question as he finished placing the fourth pancake onto the serving tray.
"Do you thi-…"
That was until footsteps were heard in the hallway.
Gradually getting louder.
Soft yet echoing in the whole room, vibrating the air around them to a silence as both Steve and Bruce froze in their tracks for a split second.
Steve's question trailed off, the gentle thuds replacing the ending as he quickly turned around, quickly finishing off the pancake batter and turning as he waited for the person to turn the corner.
Because he knew who it was.
Tony.
It had to be. Steve's enhanced hearing could figure out who it was depending on size of a shadow and the echo of the footstep, and usually his hearing was right.
It was Tony.
It had to be.
Steve felt hope rise in him. He finally could talk and figure it all out.
Until he realised, the situation that they had now. They hadn't talked to each other since 3 years, and the last time they had scene each other properly, Tony had proceeded to punch him in the face with tears in his eyes, while not saying a single word.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He knew he should have turned around, continued making the pancakes instead of waiting for the genius to turn the corner and glare when they made accidental eye contact.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
He knew he should have given the man some privacy. Knowing that he had already crossed the line way over yesterday. He knew he should have turned before Tony turned the corner.
Yet Steve didn't turn. He stayed.
For some reason, he didn't move. Couldn't move.
And he waited. Waited for-
Thud. Thud-….
Silence filled the room for a second, as Tony emerged from the corner, stepping out gingerly from the shadows as he squinted his eyes before widening them up to the normal size, gently rolling to a halt as he slowly stopped at the corner, standing just a few inches away from the contrasting cream coloured wall.
Steve just stared.
The genius was wearing a simple white top, covered by a black jacket, courtesy of Bruce and him carrying Tony's extra change bag from Asgard when he wasn't there, and simple black pants, the arc reactor's blue shining through dimly through the cotton. His hear was disheveled yet somehow not, and his eyes were a light brown from the sunlight, which was filtering through the humongous overhead windows to light up Tony's face ever so slightly, reminding him of every single breakfast morning they had as a team together in the past. The bandage clearly was shown in Tony's figure as it protruded out gently, the mechanic ever so slightly cradling it with his left hand, fingertips trailing gently over the area, presumably to comfort the constant pain which would probably be affecting the area for quite some time.
Steve watched, not knowing what to do or say as Tony simply stood there for a few seconds, staring at Bruce, eyes in their normal state and blinking….
…but not at Steve….
And so he waited, waited until the genius would stare at him, although in pain and betrayal and hurt, but still recognise that he was there.
But the moment never came.
Tony simply shook his head like as if trying to get rid of some vivid thought, blinked a few times, and then shifted his feet suddenly to start walking towards Bruce, completely ignoring Steve, as the super-solider and doctor were left to understand his actions.
Steve, standing at the left side of the sunlit kitchen island table, watched quietly as Tony stalked over to the right hand side of the table, grabbed a stool, and sat down.
Silently.
With no words.
That wasn't possible. Steve didn't know that was possible.
Tony normally was always talking during the morning. Even though his coffee deprived-ness would cause him to slur sometimes, he would still talk.
The rest of them would usually have to shut him up by handing him food or coffee to get even a moment's peace during breakfast time, as normally the genius would mumble on about his creations or rant about movie's that they watched during movie nights, never letting a moment of silence fill the kitchen table.
He had never appreciated it. Not until now.
And for a flash second, he wanted it back.
The constant chattering of the team. The whirring and sizzling of the pans as they cooked meals as a team. The companionship of laughter as they all enjoyed their breakfasts together as a family before parting off into their various jobs and duties.
Tony was always babbling about things. But then again, this wasn't an 'always' situations.
The avengers were gone.
They had left.
Only Tony was left there.
He hadn't realised until now, but only Tony was left in the so called 'Avengers'. That meant he was the only one to blame for any of the Avengers shortcomings.
The anger. The pain.
The blame.
Steve's frown returned, and the doctor noticed it before turning his attention to Tony.
Bruce, clearly not knowing what to do, yet somehow did, as he shoved the genius a plate of pancakes, topped with whipped cream and maple syrup, before turning around for a second and handing him a black cup, presumably filled with coffee, not uttering a single word for some reason, instead choosing to let silence engulf the whole room.
And with the small smile that Tony returned, Steve was sure it was coffee.
Then, he watched, as Tony accepted the food gently, picked up his utensils, and started eating slowly, not looking up from his food even once to look at him. Be angry at him. To even scream out insults at him.
He just continued eating, and Steve didn't know what to do, and looked up at the doctor, trying to figure out what to do. But the confused look he got back from the doctor's eyes, he understood that clearly Bruce didn't either, not knowing what to do after the team had broken up, as he wasn't there during the whole Accords drama.
He could start to talk, but clearly Tony was mad at him and ignoring him for a reason.
Instead, he simply looked away.
Steve decided he should reach out, talk. Do something.
Make a start.
He pulled in a deep breath, focused on his posture, lifted his head up, and then started to reach out to Tony, right hand extending to try and grab the attention of the genius by tapping gently on the shoulder.
That was until he smelt something burning.
SHIT. He cursed internally as he turned around to the stove, to see black wisps of smoke expanding from the burning pancake, his chance at talking to Tony being disturbed by his stupid forgetting brain.
Not hesitating to risk the health of others, he had already turned around, his back towards Tony as he quickly jogged towards the countertop.
He had to finish quickly, Tony would be done anytime soon and he needed to talk to him. Reaching up slightly, he switched on the exhaust and slowly put the pancake in the trash bin and the pan into the dishwasher as the burning smell faded away from the kitchen.
Only to be replaced by the screech of a chair being dragged back.
Steve's head turned around as he watched Tony get up, push the chair back in, finish whatever coffee was left in the cup, smiled at Bruce as a 'Thank you', before turning around and walking back towards the hallway which he had approached from.
Tony was going away. Back to his room.
Away from him.
He didn't know what to do.
Steve stood there, stuck between two walls as he tried to reach out but at the same time, watched as Tony slip away from him again.
And before he knew it, before he knew what he was doing, he had quickly shoved the pan inside the dishwasher, closed it, set it on and-
-He had acted.
"Tony…." his voice boomed in the room, breaking the utter silence which had seemed to cast a spell on all of the people in it. The sound lingering in the air for a second before fading away into the quietness.
He watched, in utter relief, as Tony stopped in his tracks. Not turning around, not looking back. But acknowledging that he was there.
Knowing he had something he wanted to say, and wanting to hear it from him.
Steve sucked in a deep breath, he knew this was his chance.
This was his chance to fix things. His chance to explain what happened, why he had done what he had. What he had never meant to do. What promise he had broken and god, how much he wished he hadn't…
This was his chance.
And so, he spoke.
"I know you're hurt, and I know how much you must hate me right now, and I'm not here to apologise…..You deserve to hate me. I deserve it too. I jus-….I just needed to do what was right. I should have signed. I would have. But Bucky…I couldn't let him down. He didn't deserve it-" he started, before being interrupted-
"-And I did?" -A voice suddenly echoed back, cutting Steve's question in half and throwing him for a loop.
There was a long pause in which Steve opened and closed his mouth, trying to find a response, but failing nevertheless, before it was broken by Steve and Bruce sadly watching Tony turn around, a look of pure hurt and disgust on his face.
And as he turned around in the kitchen, the overhead windows suddenly giving complete view to his face, Steve felt Tony's pain.
Tony had dark bags under his eyes, cuts and bruises littering his face. It seemed like as if somebody had hurled a bus at him. Maybe something bigger. His eyes reflected so many feelings, Steve even couldn't think anymore, couldn't come up with an answer in return. He simply stared:
Anger, Pain, Lonely, Tired, Hurt, Terrified….
And by the seem of pure devastation, Steve knew Tony had lost someone.
Someone close to him. Someone he didn't ever want to los-
Peter.
The name clicked as realisation kicked in.
Peter.
The Spider-kid. He had heard about Tony's nightmare in the night.
….
Peter had died.
….
And apparently Tony was there to see it.
Steve wanted to tell him he was sorry. Tony had lost so much already, his parents, his team, and now, his fiancee and Peter?…..He just wanted everything back to how it was. When Tony was happy and blabbering and annoying but happy and just safe, without any problems and just at home. With Steve.
And suddenly Steve's mind faded back into reality as his eyes took in the man in front of him. Tony looked like he was going to leave, and the solider suddenly felt the need to do something as he tried to explain.
"Tony, I-" he started but got cut off again.
"I deserved…to be thrown away? Because I'm clearly not human enough to be wanted?"
Silence.
He continued to stare, but the pain his eyes gave way to anger, the softness that was there, replaced by a cold glare, sending Steve's thoughts in a spiral as he tried to come up with an answer, but the….hurt….in Tony's eyes…rendering his mind incapable of thought as he just stared back.
"I deserved to try and fix every situation which happened, in the last three years you were gone, by myself? To get all the blame on me because there's no one else left to blame?"
Silence.
He walked closer, his steps slow but clearly heavy with pain and guilt and just….tired.
"I deserve to be left alone by my team…..my family? To be goddamned betrayed by everyone I ever trusted…learnt to trust?"
Silence.
Blue eyes drifted down, as Steve's gaze went to his shoes, not being able to stand looking back at Tony's glare, because he was right….
He stopped in his tracks, feet slowly rolling to a stop, quietness ringing in their ears as his voice faded away into the distance.
"….Did I deserve to be lied to about my own parents death and to not be able to speak about the nightmares that I have, because every single time I get them, I see YOU guys dy-" The loud voice cut off, replaced by a deep intake of breath and closing eyes, before opening again.
Silence.
The silence somehow finishing the sentence as Steve looked up from his gaze at his shoes, staring back into brown eyes with utter hopelessness and pure shock and guilt as he glared back.
That was what Tony saw each night?
Those were the nightmares?
They were the nightmares?
God, he saw them dying every single night….?
If Steve had just known. God, if he had just been able to understand what Tony was going through….he wouldn't have to go through it alone.
"…..Did I deserve to be hated by the world…just because I'm trying to fix the mess which you left? For trying to help?"
Silence.
Their gaze didn't falter once, two pairs of eyes staring at each other. One blue, one brown. One shocked, one hurt.
"…Because if I did, then you don't need to apologise. I deserved it."
Footsteps.
Steve watched with anguish in his eyes as Tony turned around, his stone-cold glare breaking, not once looking back with regards to hearing his side of the story, and left as quickly as the sound disintegrated into the dead air.
…..
Silence.
A/N
Please tell me some of you noticed my reference to 'Infinity War'. (Note: It's hidden. Well, kind of.) ;)
This chapter's main plot was suggested by one of my friends, and I personally thought it was a great idea, so I implemented it into the main storyline.
And also for all the Captain America fans, Steve will also have his feelings acknowledged by someone (or some people?) in few of the next upcoming chapters. (Even though I don't like him very much, he deserves to rant out too. Dw, I'm not one of the aggressively-defensive-about-Tony stans xD)
Anyways, hope you liked the story and please review!
Oh and did anyone find any mistakes? If you did, please let me know! I want to try and make my writing as correct as possible :)
Wandervibes28
