So... I saw Captain America last week and it reminded me that, hey, I have a Marvel fic still floating around. I don't want to leave this unfinished, so here we are. To whoever's left, thank you for sticking around. And to any newcomers, welcome! I promise to update more regularly now.

Also, last chapter, Tony referred to Steve as Steve while he was Captain America. That was a typo on my part; he still doesn't know. But I am too unmotivated to go change it.

Cap 2 changed a lot for the MCU, but since this is set before that, it won't have any major effects in this story.

Enjoy!


The lights grew dim, casting long, flickering shadows on everything around them.

It reminded Tony of a horror movie he'd watched with his Dad as a kid, and it gave him the creeps.

"What do you think, Tony?" Yensin asked, his accent more pronounced with fatigue. The sound had begun to be a comfort.

He was really in too deep.

"What do I think about what?"

Yensin stepped over, standing beside him. His fingers ghosted over the final piece of the blueprints. "How much work do you have left?"

Tony ran through the calculations in his mind. "Two hours, maybe. Three at most. And we've probably got one hour before they come back, so."

"I will stop talking and let you work, then."

"Mm." Tony leaned close to the coupling and eased the blowtorch into place.

"It is amazing, you know," Yensin said, quiet. "That you have done all this. There is perhaps hope for you yet, yes?"

Somehow, Tony found a small smile. "Yeah, maybe." He looked up. "Hey... Yensin."

"Yes?"

If this doesn't work, if something goes wrong-"

"Stark."

"No, I just wanted to say- Thanks. For everything."

"You are welcome." Yensin squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you."

Tony frowned. "For what?"

"For giving me hope."


The Odinson siblings were as different as night and day.

Steve gravitated toward Thor. He was cheerful and loud and warm, with an unfeigned friendliness that was plain in his face.

Loki was more withdrawn, observing, but he had a quiet wit that crept out at unexpected moments. Steve decided he was probably just more introverted, and there was nothing wrong with that.

The bell rang and they stood.

"Steve Rogers, I can most honestly say that this is the first time that I have been glad of somebody knocking me down." Thor grinned wide at him. "It has been good to meet you."

"Likewise," Steve said, shaking Thor's hand again. "Well, not the knocking into you part. I'm still sorry about that."

"Worry not. We must meet again," Thor declared. He reached to shake Tony's hand. "Anthony, we are glad to know you also."

Steve watched Tony give a stiff, quick nod out of the corner of his eye, shaking Thor's hand like it might bite him. "Thanks. And it's just Tony."

"Very well. Tony. Farewell, friends. Come, Loki, we have the class of historical studies next."

Loki followed, his green eyes full of something unreadable when they fell on Steve.

Steve held his gaze until the other boy looked away.

"So." Tony turned on him after they were gone, his shoulders tense. "What was that all about?"

Shouldering his backpack, Steve turned away and started walking. His heart thumped erratically in his chest. Discovery would mean losing the friendship he'd created to betrayal. It would mean his mission was compromised. More children would go missing. He would be returned to the facility, and then he would really lose his friends.

"Nothing," he said, fighting for a casual tone. "What do you mean?"

"You fell on purpose." Tony pushed through the crowd to walk beside him, not giving an inch. "I'm not an idiot, Rogers. You meant for that to happen."

Steve gave him a puzzled look. "Why would I do that?"

"That's what I'm asking you."

They halted in the busy hallway. Other students milled around them, creating an island. Steve kept his hands on his backpack straps, looking down at his friend. "I don't know what you're implying, but I don't believe in bullying. I'm just glad nobody was hurt."

Tony's jaw tensed. "That's not what I'm implying and you know it. What's going on? I didn't pin you as the type for trying to get in with popular kids, so what is it?"

Students filed into classrooms until the halls were left nearly empty. Steve's reply echoed off the lockers.

"I had a dizzy spell, alright? My head's still healing." Steve felt his cheeks heat up with guilt and shame. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to worry."

Tony looked away. The accusing tone faded immediately and he curled in on himself. "Look, Steve... I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Steve said, quiet, hating himself more with every word he spoke. "We can just drop it."

Tony trailed beside him until they reached the stairway where they parted ways. Facing each other again, they remained in an awkward silence until Tony cleared his throat.

"I'll see you after school, yeah?" The old Stark air was back then. Tony gestured wide with his hands and stood straight. "I still can't believe you've never seen Star Wars. We'll at least get started on them. And I have this theory about the ideal viewing order, I'll show you the article about it. We'll start with number four, unless you have any-"

"Kids! Get to class!"

Miss Hill crossed her arms, her heels clicking on the floor.

Tony shot Steve a look. "See you then, Rogers."

Steve waved. "Yeah," he said, weak. "See you."


Obie was waiting for him when he got home.

He sat on Tony's couch, a sense of ownership radiating as he kicked his feet onto the table.

"Tony. You're finally home." Obie looked up, his eyebrows raised. "How was school?"

Tony set his backpack down. "Fine." He tilted his head to the side, curious. "Why are you here? I haven't seen you since you picked me up from-" He stopped, not wanting to remind Obie of that if he'd forgotten.

"From the principal's office?" Obie gave one short laugh. "Right. I've been busy trying to fix things over at Stark Industries. You made some serious waves, kid."

The house, clean and too big, made their voices loud and sent them echoing back. Tony didn't move, his feet rooted in place. An apology formed in his mind, but something else came out. "I still stand by what I said."

With those words, the air changed, going cold.

"You expect me to be proud of you for that?" Obadiah stood, towering eight inches over Tony, and using every bit of it. "Look, Anthony, I know you've developed some sort of pacifist streak, but the rest of the world hasn't. You're not going to make anything selling bandaids and flowers. You like this house?"

Tony didn't answer, his hands pushed into his pockets.

"You like having food in the fridge? Having cars take you places? A place to live? What about all the free time you get? Or would you rather go get a job downtown mopping floors?" Obadiah took a step closer into his space and pointed, sharp, at Dummy and You. "These things were built on the Stark Industries dime. You like them too? Well?"

Hot anger and embarrassment pushed their way through Tony's chest and up into his face, making him feel sick.

Obadiah's voice went low. "I expect an answer, kid."

Tony said nothing, not looking up. His jaw clenched so hard that it stung.

"You're digging your own grave here, Anthony. Don't expect me to pull you out of it." Obadiah pushed past him, hard. His steps echoed off the walls like gunshots. Tony didn't breathe, his vision going grey around the edges.

The door opened, and Obadiah's steps paused. "And if I find out you've been going behind my back with something, anything..." The threat hung unsaid in the air. "Be careful."

Tony stood for a moment in the deafening silence left behind, shaking with tension.

Then he grabbed a glass off the coffee table and threw it at the wall.

It shattered.

Dummy let out a blip of alarm and collected a dustpan, starting to sweep the broken remnants into a pile.

A lump blocked Tony's throat and he walked over. His shoulders slumped with a sudden, pressing weight. "Don't worry about it, Dummy," he said, quiet. "I'll get it."

His friend rolled backward obediently, leaving Tony to clean up the mess. It clinked at the bottom of the trash can, then it was as if it had never been there in the first place.

Tony glanced down at his hands. A streak of red dripped down his thumb, bright against his skin. Pepper said he looked sun deprived and had some big ideas about making him go on a hike with her.

Which... considering her track record of getting her way, would probably happen whether he liked it or not.

He ran his hand under the faucet, shook it dry, and stuck a piece of duct tape over the cut. He'd run out of bandaids about a week prior.

This was just as good.

The upstairs couch no longer looked at all inviting-and Tony decided he'd probably sell it now. Or burn it.

So down the stairs he went, not bothering to turn on the lights.

The anger was still there, but he was too tired to pay any attention to it. This couch was safe, smelled like oil and pizza and dust. He collapsed face first into it and the world faded to black.


Steve trailed along the edge of the sidewalk, one hand guiding his new-old beat up bicycle, the other holding a cell phone to his ear. A patch of morning glory twined along the pavement, dragging his mind away from the conversation.

The setting sun hit it just so, lighting the few open blossoms with a translucent glow. Against the pale grey of the concrete, it looked like a piece on nature in the modern city.

"Steve, are you listening to me?"

Steve snapped to attention.

"Sorry, sir."

Coulson sighed. "I know you've got a lot on your mind, but this is important. Fury wants you to report to the meeting house ASAP. There's been a development."

The last thing he wanted to do was attend another briefing. Receive another lecture. Another threat to his freedom. "Could it wait a few hours, sir? I-I'm close to getting something on Stark. I'm heading to his place now. I put that on the schedule a few days ago."

There was a brief silence.

"I think I could argue for it. But only if I can promise Fury some solid information." Coulson was all business now. "Can you manage that?"

Doubt curled in Steve's stomach, but he nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Then we'll expect you at 2200 hours. You have transportation?"

"I do, sir. Thank you."

Coulson inhaled-and Steve guessed he was about to either comment on the situation or the sir, then exhaled again. "See you then, Rogers. Be careful."

The line went dead and Steve tucked the phone away.

Part of him wanted to chuck it into the nearest yard and run, be free of SHIELD and all its trappings. But he had a responsibility to his country.

And whether that meant fighting on the front lines or enduring high school to save a bunch of kids, he had to do it.

He was so absorbed in taking down a sketch of the exotic tree in Tony's front yard that the padding tennis shoes behind him didn't register.

Just as he was finishing the branches and deciding that a gardener must've been responsible for the beautiful lawn (since Tony certainly didn't care), a female voice spoke behind him.

"Can I ask what you're doing, exactly?"

Steve spun around, the sensory input he'd blocked rushing in all at once. He'd heard her from before the bottom of Tony's drive. Shoes tapping the pavement, an unfamiliar song hummed under her breath. The wind was blowing his way, and her perfume smelled like the kind Director (Principal?) Fury's secretary wore. Classy, composed, and subtle.

If he'd been paying attention, he would've been prepared.

Distraction was a rookie mistake, and he couldn't afford it.

"I, well, I-I'm-looking at this tree." Steve cleared his throat and straightened. "What are you doing?"

Somewhere along the line he'd started feeling protective of Tony. Everybody and their friend seemed to have it out for the guy. It was hardly fair.

The girl's wary expression dropped to one of incredulity. "I'm here to see Tony." An obviously was plain in her tone. "Are you his new security, or something?" One strawberry-blonde eyebrow went up. "I'm sure Stark Industries isn't paying you to look at trees."

Steve's cheeks heated, and he tucked the miniature notebook back into his pocket. "I'm not security. I'm here to see him too. I just got distracted."

Both eyebrows went up this time, and the girl looked him over. "You're here to see him?" She crossed her arms. "Who are you?"

Part of him wanted to be difficult, but manners took over and he extended a hand. "I'm Steve Rogers. I'm a classmate. I'm sorry about the unfriendly start, miss. You just took me by surprise."

The girl's hazel eyes widened. "You're Steve Rogers?" Her mouth turned down thoughtfully. "Hm. You're taller than I expected." She shook his hand, firm and confident. "I'm Pepper Potts. And I'm sorry for the interrogation. With everything he has going on, I'm sure you understand."

"I do." Steve split into a genuine smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Potts. Tony speaks very highly of you."

"Does he?" Pepper snorted. "That's a surprise, actually." She shivered. "Let's go inside. I didn't bring a jacket, and it's past time for him to be nagged into eating dinner."

"Something more than coffee, you mean?" Steve rang the doorbell and they both stepped back. "I'm glad someone else has noticed."

"With any luck, we can scare him into submission between the two of us." Pepper gave him a sideways smile. "But in all seriousness, I'm relieved he's found another friend. You're good for him."

A wave of conflicting emotions crashed over him. On the one hand... Having someone mutually consider him a friend again was amazing. But on the other... He was pretty much the worst friend ever.

Steve didn't like conflicting emotions, and he was getting sick of the constant rush of them. Usually he could fix whatever was causing the disparity and move on with his life.

Pepper reached to ring the bell again. Jarvis's crisp voice spoke over the speaker. "Mr. Stark is asleep. You may come inside."

"Thanks, Jarvis," Pepper replied. They stepped in and Steve's jaw nearly dropped.

"This is huge," he said, before he could stop himself. And from the two staircases immediately visible, it didn't seem to end, either.

"Oh, this is nothing." Pepper kicked off her sneakers and gestured for him to follow. "His lab is downstairs, that's where he'll be. Come on."

Steve hesitated, then removed his shoes. Leaving himself unprepared for a sudden escape or attack felt wrong, but manners were important...

Again with the conflicting emotions.

"This way." Pepper navigated Tony's home like it was her own, finally stopping in front of a set of glass doors.

The lights were off inside, leaving only some dim computer screens to provide an eery blue glow. Pepper punched a code into the entry panel and the doors slid open with a hiss.


Tony was snoring.

Steve hung back, watching as Pepper crept over.

"I almost hate to wake him," she said, looking down at the sleeping boy. "He needs the rest."

Then Tony let out another loud snore, and Pepper leaned down and shook him. "Hey. Wake up. We didn't come to hear your one-nose choir."

Tony startled awake and jumped to his feet, scrambling back.

Steve cringed in sympathy. "It's just us," he said, hands up. Pepper mirrored his movements, edging over to a control panel and hitting the lights.

They came on at full brightness and Tony swore, covering his face.

"What is wrong with you people?" He demanded, stumbling over and dimming the lights to half. "First you jump me and then you blind me?"

Pepper pulled Tony into a hug. "Don't be so dramatic. How are you?"

"Terrible," Tony grumbled, stiff in Pepper's embrace. His forehead fell against her shoulder and Steve looked toward the wall.

"Cheer up." Pepper spoke firmly. "You've got company. And you look awful, so we're just in time."

Tony tugged away and flopped back onto the couch. "Hi, Rogers."

There was a pause, then Stark sat back up. "Wait. When did you two meet?"

"Just now," Steve said, sheepish. "Your AI let us in."

A glare at the ceiling. Tony shook his fist. "Jarvis, I've told you a hundred times. No visitors during nap time. Don't make me tell you again."

"I will create a subroutine, sir."

"Good." Tony sighed and leaned back, surveying the two of them. "Well, you're both still alive, so I take it things went well."

Pepper plopped beside Tony. "After we finished interrogating each other for being on your front lawn. He's nice, you should keep him."

Tony turned his "Highly Sardonic Eyebrow" on Steve.

(The expression was self-named.)

"You interrogated Pepper?"

Steve coughed and set his backpack down. "Sorry."

A grin spread across Tony's face and he suddenly looked much more himself. "I would've paid to see that. Sit down, Rogers. If we're lucky, we can get through two movies tonight."

Relieved, Steve took a seat and checked his watch. "Actually... I've got to be home by ten."

Tony made a face. "I though your curfew was eleven?"

"Coulson's still... Well, I'm trying to be on my best behavior." Steve smiled an apology. "So maybe just one movie."

Tony muttered under his breath-probably something unkind; he caught the words "Coulson" and "stupid."

Pepper crossed her ankles on the coffee table and tugged a blanket over her legs. "What are we watching?"

"Star Wars," Tony said, hitting buttons on his phone and somehow controlling his television with it. "Grandpa here has never seen it."

"I'm only a month older than you," Steve protested. Give or take seven decades. "I'm not even eighteen yet."

"Yeah, but you round up. I heard you tell that Thor guy that you were eighteen."

"I said almost."

Pepper sighed and stood. "Okay, this is where I excuse myself to use the bathroom. When I come back, you better be playing nice."

Tony grinned at Steve, mischief in his eyes.

"Don't even think about it," Steve said, scooting further into his corner of the couch.

"You don't even know what I'm thinking!"

"And I don't want to."

Tony threw his pillow at Steve's head.

Steve caught it neatly.

"...I'll keep that." Steve tucked it behind his back and stretched out. "Ah, much better. Thanks, Tony."

"You-"

Something buzzed underneath them.

"Shh. Do you hear that?"

They went silent and felt around in the couch cushions for the source. Finally, Tony pulled out a pale green rectangle.

"This is Pepper's phone. Must've fallen out." He set it down and Steve tilted his head to read the called ID.

Eileen McKinney.

"Where have I heard that name before..." Tony rubbed a hand through his hair. "Maybe I should answer it."

"No, don't." Steve snatched it away, and Tony shoved him, trying to reach around him to grab it. His elbow dug into Steve's side.

"Ow! Get off!"

"You get off," Tony said, yanking the pillow out and pushing it into Steve's face. "That's Pepper's."

"And you were going to answer it anyway!"

"...What are you two doing?"

Pepper's sock feet didn't have the same tapping volume as her sneakers, but the effect was just as potent.

Tony dropped the pillow and dislodged his elbow and knee from Steve's internal organs. "He started it."

Steve sighed and held out the phone. "Sorry, Miss Potts."

"Pepper is fine," she said, and slipped the phone back into her pocket. "Are you guys ready to behave now?"

Tony got up to his knees, indignant. "I said he-"

"Tony."

Pepper was really amazing, Steve decided, watching as Tony slumped quietly down into his corner of the couch.

They dimmed the lights again and the opening scene began to roll.


It was dark when Steve left.

Ten minutes in, he started to shiver. His jacket was thin, more of a windbreaker than any sort of insulation. It did at least cut through the wind as he biked along the empty streets.

The wind nipped at his cheeks and he thought back to the film. He could see why it was a classic-the storyline had a definite draw. Compared to his 1930's science fiction novel, it was much more far-reaching. The concept of the "Force" was interesting. No doubt Tony had some sort of theory about that, too.

As he passed the halfway mark between Tony's house and the meeting point, weight settled back on his shoulders.

Despite his promise to Coulson, he didn't have anything important to offer.

They weren't going to be happy.

His phone vibrated against his side and he stopped.

Balancing on one leg, he tugged the phone out, tensing.

...His shoulders loosened when Tony's name appeared on the screen.

"Hello?" Steve asked, switching legs.

"I remembered!"

This was a common occurrence. Tony had once called him at two in the morning because he'd remembered something that had been keeping him up. He fixated.

Steve glanced around, making sure he was still alone. Dark streets made him edgy. "What did you remember this time?"

"Eileen McKinney. I remembered who she is."

His voice was alit with triumph.

"...and... Who is she?"

"Norman Osborne's PA. She was at the school last week." Tony made a distateful sound. "I don't like Osborne. Dad doesn't-I mean... Never did, either. Why do you think Pepper's getting calls from Oscorp?"

"I don't know," Steve said, but his mind was racing. "Sorry, Tony, I've got to go. I'm going to be late if I don't hurry."

A sigh crackled over the line. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead."

"See you, Tony. Get some rest."

Steve imagined Tony rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, good night, Mom. I'll see you tomorrow."

The call ended with a click and Steve put the phone away, pedalling forward.

He knew this much: Osborne was on SHIELD's watch-list. Somebody under his direct command snooping around the school and being in touch with a student was enough to warrant suspicion. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Thank you, Tony," he said. He let out a long breath, the pressure in his chest easing.

At least now there was some hope.