It was a few days before Tony could get around to working on this little project for Uncle Grant. But it was never far from his mind, and he was already mulling over how to approach this strange, out-of-the-blue request.

It had certainly thrown him; not something he'd have ever expected from the man. But then, he actually didn't know that much about Uncle Grant, though he got the impression there wasn't that much to know. He'd served mostly in the European theater during the war, met and married Aunt Peggy a few years after it ended— stealing her away from quite a few other suitors, she would proudly note —and spent the rest of his life primarily as a stay at home dad while she built SHIELD from the ground up. That was enough to make him remarkable for the postwar era, but otherwise he had lived exceptionally quietly, content to stand behind and support his more prominent, career-oriented wife.

And nobody ever had a bad word to say about him. He got along with everybody, even Tony's dad, who couldn't have been farther to the other end of the personality spectrum. While Jarvis was the true angel on Howard's shoulder, Tony gathered that Grant had been a good influence over the years. They were different enough that their friendship had to weather quite a bit of butting heads, but by his dad's own admission, Grant had been relied upon a time or two to save Howard from himself.

He recalled one of the last times he'd gone to see the Carters, back in 2012, when Rogers had first been chiseled out of the ice. He decided to go in person, since it had been a while since he'd seen them. Aunt Peggy was slowing down these days, after a lifetime of being seemingly unstoppable. She had Uncle Grant to take care of her, who was hale and hearty as ever, but Tony knew that it was easier on them if he came to them. They were basically the last folks left who had been around back in Captain America's day, and Peggy had known him personally, so Tony thought she'd want to know. He found himself bracing for the conversation, though he couldn't exactly say why. Perhaps he was afraid of disappointing Peggy; it was already clear that he and Steve were not getting along. But if there was one thing he'd have thought he and Grant had in common, it was complicated feelings about Captain America.

It turned out Peggy had heard already; SHIELD had made sure to give her the news. "Director Fury thought I might care to know."

"Yeah, well. Fury isn't the only one." Tony shifted, considering. "Would have thought the man himself might care. He hasn't reached out yet?"

"No, he hasn't. I imagine he's dealing with quite a lot right now."

"Gotta tell you, I'm surprised. Given you're one of the few familiar faces."

"It's been seventy years." Her tone was light, but there might have been a little self-consciousness in the way she touched her cheek. "I hardly recognize this face anymore."

"Aw, are you worried, hon?" Uncle Grant asked, glancing up from the paper he was reading. "You're as beautiful as the day I married you."

Tony had to admit, they were cute together, in a nauseating sort of way. "Yeah, listen to the man. Don't you worry what that pretty boy thinks."

"I take it the two of you aren't getting on?"

He tried not to squirm. "Now why in the world would you think that?"

Grant's lip quirked. "So, what? You're great pals, then?"

Tony grinned so furiously his face hurt. "I hate him. I think he's a dick."

Peggy rolled her eyes as Grant burst out with a laugh. "Oh, please, young man," she scoffed. "Have you no respect?"

"Guy like that, who thinks he's always right, that he's better than everybody else? You think that's easy to get along with?"

"He was very important to us. To me, to Jarvis, and your father."

"Christ, you don't got to tell me." Tony rolled his eyes. "Dad used to talk about him like he walked on water."

"Did he?" Grant asked. "I never heard so much of that."

"Yeah, well, lucky you." Tony rolled his eyes extravagantly. "Guy martyrs himself on one goddamn bomber, and suddenly everybody thinks he's a saint."

Aunt Peggy was not amused. "You really shouldn't be so hard on him. You've no idea what he's been through."

Tony glowered. "So you're on his side, is that it?"

"I am on the side of doing the right thing," she declared. "As always. You should know to listen to me by now."

"Well, damn. I wasn't expecting this kind of treachery."

Grant chuckled. "You'll have to excuse her, son. She just used to be sweet on him, that's all."

Tony looked to Peggy, eyes narrowed. "That's right, you had a thing with him, didn't you? War making strange bedfellows and all."

She flapped a hand at him. "Good graces, did your father tell you that?"

"Yeah. Guess the old man wasn't the only one with a hard on for the guy."

"Hey. Language," Grant cut in, albeit mildly. Tony had to laugh; he'd been doing that since Tony was a kid, and it was the first time he'd heard it in a while.

Peggy looked down her nose. "At any rate, I knew him well enough to say. And he's the best man anyone could ever know."

He glanced at Uncle Grant, who grinned easily. "You hearing this?"

"What can I say? Ladies love that Captain America."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, well. Ladies must not have to make much conversation with the guy." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Well. I just wanted to make sure you knew. Which you do." Tony glanced between them, gauging their reactions. "He's probably going to come and see you. If that's cool."

"Tell him he's welcome," Peggy said. "He's got nothing to worry about from us."

"Great," Tony muttered. "So long as he's comfortable."

He stood, and Grant stood with him, moving in to nudge him with an elbow. "Don't worry, kid. If he gives you trouble, just tell your Aunt Peggy. She'll put him back in line."

Peggy smirked as Tony bent down to kiss her cheek. "Yes, well, don't get too smug. I plan to tell him the same thing about you."

Grant walked him out, as Tony chewed over the whole situation. "Captain freakin' America," he murmured. "Defrosted fresh from 1945. Shit, that's weird."

"You're telling me."

He turned to look over his shoulder at Grant. "Can I ask you something? And brace yourself, 'cause it's personal."

"I'm an open book."

"This Rogers guy. I know he died before you met her. But…"

Grant's expression didn't change. "What are you getting at, son?"

Tony found himself casting about for the words. "Couldn't have been easy, having… that act to follow. The fallen saint of the war and her first true love?"

Grant half-smiled. "Did Howard tell you that, or Edwin?"

Tony stopped in his tracks and eyed him. "I can't believe he doesn't hang over you."

For a moment he thought he'd hurt Grant, he was silent for so long. But when at last the man spoke, he sounded more thoughtful than sad. "I'll be honest. He used to." He paused a moment, as if recalling. "Longer than I thought he would."

He looked back over his shoulder the way they'd come. "But I got her. And she's my world— love of my life, my best girl. And we made a whole life together. That's all that matters."

Tony normally wasn't much one for the mushy stuff, but he had to smile. "Well, you don't have to worry there. Anybody can see she loves you like crazy."

Grant patted him on the shoulder. "Anyway. Try not to let him get to you."

"Yeah. I will definitely try to do that. Next time he gets on my case for my shoes being scuffed." Tony flashed a grin. "You wanna meet him?"

Grant laughed. "God, no."

"Yeah, good call. Probably don't need more than one of us punching him in the mouth."

Grant shook his head, amused. "You kidding? I feel so sorry for him I don't think I could stand it."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Christ, you're a sap."

But the older man's earnestness remained undaunted. "Trust me, kid. He's got nothing now— except the worst job in the world. Just try to remember that."

"So, what? Take it easy on him?" He grumbled as Grant eyed him. "Would've thought goddamn Captain America could take it."

"Sure he can. But you don't have to let him get to you. He's got way bigger problems than you."