Day 13
"Get him out of there, Sam!"
Get who out of where – who in pluperfect hell was shouting?
"Jesus Christ, can we get the medic over? This looks bad."
Everything looked bad, what, had they been walking around with their eyes closed? HYDRA reigned supreme, tell him which one word in that sentence actually meant good news.
"Stark? Hey, can you hear me? Dammit, man, don't you heal like Logan these days?"
No… emphasis on no. Where did that come from? See what happened if he left those people alone? Talked junk science like they were real. Next thing he knew they'd try stabbing him in the neck just to prove a point.
"Tony, hey, buddy. It's me."
"… Rhodey?"
The blurred figure before him blanched, but he quickly schooled his expression to one of joy. He was smiling. Steve smiled, too, but it never looked happy.
"It's Sam. Sam Wilson. I got you, alright? Hang on."
Sam. Sam Wilson. Was here, cradling him like he was made of shattered glass held together by Play-Doh.
"Where's Steve?"
"Barnes' taking care of him."
Taking care of Steve meant… killing him?
"Don't."
"You remember Barf? Yeah, well he barfed out another shard. I don't know how that happened, to be honest, because the last shard was supposed to be with Steve –"
What last shard? Wasn't the Cosmic Cube assembled and residing in Steve's chest?
"We figured Steve didn't want to risk it. He knew about your theory, about how assembling the Cube would bring Kobik back. With ninety-nine percent of the Cube, he's powerful as hell already, so why chance a power struggle with a sentient cosmic entity with the guile of a child, right? We figured – I know, bear with me – he would hide the last shard somewhere safe, so we couldn't get to it. And it was going swell for Steve until last night. Like I said, Barf barfed out one more, and here we are."
… Tony did make a wish last night.
"It's over, Tony. I'm getting you out of here."
"Steve?"
"Steve's gone, Tony. He's past saving!"
Then, the ceiling shook and dust snowed upon them. Sam instinctively rolled over Tony, bracketing the broken body with his own. "Can you walk?" Sam shouted over the din of explosion traced to several floors above. Tony shook his head, and clutched onto Sam's shoulders. "OK, hold on tight. We're flying. Bet you've missed that."
He missed a friendly face.
Sam hooked his arms under Tony and deployed his wings. They shot out of a hole in the wall where he must've flown through the first place. It was dizzying, exhilarating, that freedom was within his grasp once more. He was soaring, and the wind whizzed past him as they cut through it. His knuckles were white against Sam's vest, and the barest hint of a smirk crept on his lips.
"Oh, my God. Is my double vision acting up, or are there two Steve Rogers duking it out on the plains?"
Tony followed Sam's line of sight and twisted his neck to get a better view. There was a ring of Avengers, standing around doing nothing, which was an odd sighting on its own. By now someone would've passed around the beer or crackers. Some tasteless fisticuffs held their attention, one between Steve and Steve – and even from this high up, Tony knew immediately he'd gotten his best friend back.
"… How?"
"Lang took the shard, went Tic Tac and stuck it in Steve's heart where the rest of the Cube was. It's all messed up, man. I thought they were all drunk on their asses when they proposed that, but what do we have left to lose?"
He wanted to watch his Steve emerge victorious. Celebrate the triumph of good over evil. Hug him. Tell him he was sorry, for nothing and everything.
"Tony?"
After all was said and done, they could go home together. They would put this all behind them, but the road of recovery would be arduous. Steve wouldn't forgive himself. Didn't matter that he played no part in what his douchebag lookalike had done in his stead, Steve would take it all upon himself. All the mistakes, the sins.
"Get the medic ready, dammit! I don't know – signs of trauma and possibly torture, vitals are steady last I checked, but he's not lucid all the time. I know there are other casualties to tend to, but this is Tony fucking Stark, for God's sake! In the flesh! Yes, literally! Well, that's for you to find out, right? He's in this form when I reached!"
There was whooping. A lot of happy whooping. A foregone conclusion. He had faith. He believed!
"Let me see him."
"Tony, we have to get you to a hospital, right now –"
"I need to. Please!"
The sudden drop in altitude knocked him out for a good two to three seconds, and he vaguely felt Sam's arms tensing under him. Yet, they didn't change trajectory. Sam could've nailed a softer landing, but he could forgive that. On top of gushing adrenaline and a dying desire to be reunited with a beloved brother?
Steve's face crumbled when he saw Tony.
The very earth moved with Steve's every step, as Sam lay Tony down on the sandy terrain. The ring of Avengers broke up as they hurried over – thank you for the concern, but really – and Tony held on to the last vestiges of consciousness. He'd cried again. Steve's cheeks, too were streaked with tears. His chest a solid slab of strong muscle and bones and blood – and his eyes, his blue, blue eyes, rake over the fallen Avenger.
"Tony. Tony. What have I done?"
"… Not you, Steve."
"I'm so, so, sorry."
"… I can't look that bad."
Steve chuckled wetly, and opened his arms. He stayed, and searched Tony's features for a sign. For forgiveness? Just like old time.
"I missed you, Steve," he whispered, and Steve's warmth wrapped around him.
Just like old time.
