Chapter 8

Tony glared at the archer perched across from him, wanting nothing more than to wipe that ridiculous smug expression off his stupid face. His wrists chafed from the chains wrapped too tightly around them, and Tony had to fight the desire to ask JARVIS to send his location to the police. For one thing, he wasn't particularly interested in letting anyone else in on JARVIS' capabilities, even on a smaller scale such as this, and, for another, Tony wanted to see how this played out.

If The Captain really was going to come and 'speak' with him (i.e. demand answers in a less-than-pleasant manner), then maybe Tony could find out some information of his own. Namely, who would want his parents killed and how much would Tony have to pay to avenge them. These jackasses were called The Avengers, were they not? Maybe once he offered them a significant reward for the head of his parents' murderer, they could talk as professionals rather than chaining him up like an animal.

He jumped in surprise when the door to the small room burst open, watching it slap against the back wall with a sharp crack. Tony's eyes widened in alarm, and his lips parted in horror as the freaking Winter Soldier, The Captain's attack dog, filled the entire doorway before him.

Tony had seen pictures and news articles, of course, but seeing the man in person was an entirely different matter. The Soldier's shaggy brunet hair swept in front of his black mask that covered most of his face, and his metal arm practically rippled against the low fluorescent light. For a moment, Tony sat petrified that The Winter Soldier would kill him before he got a chance to speak.

But The Soldier's gaze only rested heavily on him for three excruciatingly long heartbeats before sliding over to the archer. The air within the interrogation room almost seemed to drop, sending gooseflesh across Tony's bare arms and the back of his neck. The archer, Clint, must have noticed that something was amiss because he scrambled off the table to his feet. His shoulders stiffened as The Soldier advanced, his presence dark and looming around them.

Before Clint could even open his mouth, The Winter Soldier raised his metal fist and slammed it against the archer's face, sending him crashing to the ground with a gasp of pain. Tony reared back in shock, wincing when his chains battered against the table and bit his lip to keep quiet when The Soldier reached down to grasp Clint's arm. He hauled him up and over his shoulder, spun on his heel, and then flung the door shut behind him. Tony gaped at the closed doorway, feeling distinctly unsettled.

What. The. Fuck.

XX

Steve focused on controlling his breathing and called The Avengers to assemble before him, unable to keep the bite out of his tone. His shoulders practically trembled with barely restrained rage, and he fought for control as his teammates fell in line one by one. They must have heard something was going on because they assembled quicker than normal with wary looks on their faces.

He remained silent, ignoring their pointed questions until Bucky marched in with a groaning Clint over his shoulder. The Avengers murmured in confusion for a few moments before falling quiet once again when Bucky threw the archer onto the harsh concrete. Natasha was the only one to drop to her knees to help him sit up, her usual blank expression twitching with worry and a hint of anger.

Steve couldn't care less.

His teammates raised their gazes to him for an explanation. He raked his tongue across his teeth once more for some semblance of control and then spoke in a low, even voice full of power. "Know that the man in Interrogation Room 3 is strictly off-limits. Should any harm come to him, The Soldier and I will ensure your punishment ten-fold. Hawkeye's injuries will be our first and only show of mercy on this subject. Am I understood?"

The Avengers nodded their acceptance on the matter, though Natasha grit her teeth and caught his eye. "Who is he?"

Steve glanced at Bucky out of the corner of his eye to see his best friend watching him expectantly. He would follow Steve's lead on the matter. "His name is Tony Stark, and he is mine."

XX

After Steve dismissed The Avengers, he spun on his heel and headed towards his suite with Bucky falling in line beside him. He wasn't sure what to say to his best friend. Words didn't seem to express just how nonsensical their situation was. His heart thumped heavily within his chest as his mind tried to catch up with the irrefutable fact that Tony was alive.

Fuck.

He had no idea how that was even possible, but Steve was determined to find out every last detail of Tony's life. From the moment his father had him taken away until the moment he was returned to them now. He was aware that Tony attended MIT, though Steve - wrongly - assumed that he'd died before he could graduate with multiple degrees. But, if that wasn't the case, where the hell has Tony been all this time? Did he ever think about Steve? Or Bucky? If so, how did he feel about them?

The familiar guilt, resting dormant before, now rushed to the forefront of his mind with a vengeance, bringing with it a barrage of vexatious questions.

What if Steve had fought harder for Tony when they were kids?

What if Steve had exhausted more efforts in searching for Tony once he and Bucky enlisted?

What if, what if, what if.

Maybe he and Tony wouldn't be practically strangers, with Steve having absolutely zero idea how to approach him. Maybe Tony would be an Avenger. Maybe he would have fought by Steve's side against Hydra.

Perhaps Tony would really be his, instead of the fantasy, born of what could have been, that he'd fixated on for thirteen years.

But despite all of that, a sliver of hope blossomed inside the chasm of doubt and worry. Here they are, after so many years and repeated devastation, with Tony returned to him. Steve had him within reach once again, which meant he had a second chance with the love of his life.

Yes, they'd only spent three months together when they were teenagers, but Steve's heart never moved on from the brilliant engineer who flipped his entire world on its head. He'd had lovers over the years, but none of them could hold a candle to his childhood sweetheart, and it wasn't fair to any of them to try and use them to fill the void that consumed him.

Bucky was the only person who understood the depth of his loss. While Steve lost his heart, Bucky lost his soul. His best friend had never been more confident and self-assured than when Tony was by his side. The engineer always had a way about him that brought out the best of people, and that was even more true with Steve and Bucky.

As Steve led them into his suite, the pair exchanged a knowing look. They wouldn't, couldn't, allow this chance with Tony to pass them by.

XX

Tony worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched the locked door, his knee bouncing from anxiety and impatience. It wouldn't take too long to escape his chains; he'd been getting himself out of kidnapping situations since before he could drive, but Tony's gut urged him to wait.

To be patient.

He didn't know why he felt so strongly about speaking with the Captain, but Tony wasn't one to ignore his instincts. If The Avengers were anything like The Commandos, then money would talk. Tony could bribe the enigmatic man to go after his parents' killer(s), Obie would get SI, and he'd donate or sell off the Stark's properties, and then Tony could go back to Malibu and forget this entire nightmare ever happened.

He glanced up when the door creaked open to reveal a thin, lean man a few inches taller than Tony with glasses pushed up his nose. He carried an emergency kit in one hand and a large key ring wrapped around the other. Tony watched him through narrowed eyes, not convinced in the slightest that this man was the dreaded "Captain" he'd heard so much about.

"Mr. Stark?" The man called out softly, and Tony jerked back in surprise, blood rushing through his ears. How the fuck did he know who Tony was? "I'm Dr. Banner, and I would like permission to examine your injuries. I've also received directions to get you out of those chains," he gestured towards the metal chafing Tony's wrists.

Tony blinked a few times to bring his focus back to Banner, who was shifting his weight nervously in front of him, brandishing a single key. "Yeah," he rasped, still trying to figure out how they knew his name.

Banner's gentleness was a bit startling, considering his place among The Avengers. Tony had assumed that they were all as self-righteous as Clint or as brutish as The Winter Soldier. He held perfectly still, though not without difficulty, as Banner removed the chains and placed his wrists atop the cool metal surface. Banner grimaced as he observed the flared indentions in Tony's skin where the chains had left a nasty mark.

"I'm sorry for your treatment up to this point," Banner apologized without looking at him, picking through the emergency kit to treat his wounds.

Tony swallowed around a lump in his throat and gave a slight cough. "Uh, thank you? Why am I here?"

"I don't know if I'm the right person to answer that for you," Banner flicked his gaze up to Tony after applying antibiotic cream. "But the building you were in is very well known to be off-limits."

"To whom?"

The corners of Banner's lips twitched upwards. "To everyone." He wrapped a soft bandage around each of his inflamed wrists and checked his work against the low fluorescent lights. Once he was satisfied, Banner pushed his glasses back up towards his nose and moved a few inches closer. "I'd like to take a look at your face as well."

Tony frowned, a renewed annoyance building within his chest. "Yeah, that archer douchebag got me pretty good."

"Clint can get a little overzealous," Banner agreed with a slight chuckle. "But I can promise you that he's seen the error in his ways." The doctor tested the skin around his eye until Tony winced. "Well, it doesn't look like anything's broken, thank goodness. I'm going to give you some ice for the swelling."

"Why did The Winter Soldier come in here and knock the shit out of Clint?" Tony asked, accepting the ice pack and sucking in a sharp intake of air when it rested on his skin. "For a second there, I thought he was coming in here to kill me."

Banner shook his head and started to pack up his supplies. "The Winter Soldier and The Captain have an...interest, you could say, in this matter. Unfortunately, Clint broke a rule he didn't realize was considered law around here and paid the price for it."

"What rule did he break?"

Banner offered him a hand up, encouraging Tony to follow him out the door before looking over his shoulder with a serious expression on his drawn face. "He hurt you, Tony."

Tony's brow furrowed in confusion. Why the hell would he be mentioned in any of The Avengers' rules? And why would it be to protect him? "How did you know my real name? I haven't gone by Stark since I was a kid."

"You were recognized," Banner offered by way of explanation, placing his hands in his pockets as he led him down a long hallway. After that, they were quiet, passing what looked to be a large living room/entertainment area, a large, pristine kitchen, and a fully-stocked gym. Then, finally, Banner paused outside a set of double doors with infinitely more detail than the others and turned around to look at him. "This is The Captain's room. They're waiting inside for you. I can't imagine how you must feel right now, but I would ask that you not be afraid. No one here will hurt you, Tony, I promise."

Before Tony could open his mouth to ask the thousands of questions that popped into his head right then, Banner spun on his heel and turned a corner. Tony sighed in resignation before gathering his courage to come face to face with The Captain. If he and The Winter Soldier knew who he was, and didn't want to hurt him, maybe Tony could use that to his advantage. Figuring out what they wanted from him was the first step, and then getting information on his parents' murder would follow suit.

He gave himself a silent pep talk before pushing open the unlocked doors and stepping inside the darkened room.

"Uh, hello?" He called out warily. It was more like a large suite than a bedroom. A long white leather sectional rested in front of a seventy-inch flat-screen television while ceiling-to-floor mahogany bookcases lined the walls. The bay windows facing the common area were, obviously, bullet-proof considering their thickness, and the glass was tinted, so it felt perpetually dark within the suite. Three doors broke off from there, which he assumed led to a bedroom, bathroom, and maybe an office of some sort, that is, if he was indeed in The Captain's quarters.

"Tony Stark," a low, rumble of a voice called out from the shadows. "You're supposed to be dead."

Tony squinted until he made out two towering figures standing by a desk he didn't see before. When a lamp flickered to life, he instantly recognized The Winter Soldier; though, this time, his face was bare except for a hint of stubble. The other man, who Tony assumed to be The Captain, stood in black dress pants that hugged his tree-trunk thighs and a crisp long-sleeved white button-up with the sleeves rolled over his thick forearms. His cropped blonde hair reflected the lamp's light, but his piercing blue eyes were what caught Tony's attention.

Because those eyes were familiar, and that was impossible.

He dismissed the idea immediately, reminding himself that it was dark and the two people these men looked like died overseas three years ago. Despite the sinking block of ice that had settled within his stomach, he refused to let himself believe differently.

Something was wrong here; he just didn't know what.

"Technically," he drawled, rolling his shoulders back in an attempt to cast a nonchalant image, "I just changed my name. It was Howard who never saw the need to clarify to the world that his only son was still alive; I just didn't want anything to do with him." He winced at the mention of his father, reminded of what he was doing here in the first place. Tony swallowed around a lump in his throat and went for it. "I need your help."

That had both men raising their brows in surprise. They glanced at each other, though they didn't move any closer to Tony, much to his disappointment. His heartbeat picked up when he realized that he actually wanted to see them fully in the light, so he'd know for certain that his mind was playing tricks on him. Tony chastised himself for continuing down such an insane rabbit hole.

Steve and Bucky were dead. They were gone.

The Captain spoke, his soft voice causing the hairs on the back of Tony's neck to spring to attention. "What do you need?"

Tony's mouth felt dry. He wanted to shove forward, to move into the man's space and see those blue eyes up close because it had been so long since he'd seen a shade like that, but Tony forced himself to concentrate. He was on a mission, for Christ's sake. "Someone murdered my parents a few days ago and made it look like a car accident." Tony closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, needing to face his roaring emotions head-on. "Whoever killed them came after me too. I broke into the warehouse last night because I thought it would be a safe place to think and figure out a plan. I didn't realize that it was off-limits."

At least if he acknowledged his reasons for trespassing, maybe they would give him a free pass, just this once.

"You didn't break in," The Winter Soldier snapped, his shoulders trembling from what Tony assumed to be anger. Unfortunately, he didn't understand the man's source of ire and took an unconscious step back.

"What?" He squeaked, watching as The Captain placed a hand on The Soldier's arm.

For the next few charged moments, the two men seemed to have a silent conversation between them. Then, finally, The Captain moved his hand down to his side and clenched his fists before turning to watch Tony with those eerily familiar blue eyes. "You didn't break into that warehouse, Tony. You had a key."

Tony stumbled back as if slapped, reaching up to grasp the chain hanging around his neck. "How would you know that?"

And then The Winter Soldier and The Captain, two men who were practically ghost stories, who were responsible for ending hundreds of lives and spilling an overwhelming amount of blood, stepped out of the remaining shadows.

"Because we're the ones who gave it to you."

XX

Steve recognized the instant Tony's eyes lit up with realization, followed quickly by flashes of shock, confusion, and finally fear.

He took another step closer, but Tony matched his advance with a clumsy backward lurch of his own. "Stop!" He hissed, holding out a trembling hand. "Just, just stop."

"Tony -" Bucky started, but Tony cut him off with a shake of his head and a slash of his wrist.

"No! Shut up! I - I need to think. I need to -"

Steve forced himself to still with both hands up in the air in an attempt to show Tony they didn't mean any harm. His gut churned uncomfortably at the thought of hurting the engineer any more than he already had. Bucky was quiet by his side as well, just as reluctant to make things worse.

Tony pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and muttered to himself, sucking in shallow puffs of air. The hairs on the back of Steve's neck rose in alarm when his breath turned into pants; if he didn't calm down, Tony would work himself into a full-blown panic attack.

Steve grit his teeth and flexed his fingertips. "Tony, you need to breathe. Nobody is going to hurt you, I swear, but you have to breathe."

The engineer's shoulders shook, but after a few excruciating minutes, the rasp drained from his breaths. The three of them were silent for a few more moments until Tony slowly brought his hands down and across his chest protectively.

He blinked a few times, clearing the wetness from his eyes, before focusing on the two of them once again, only this time a firm mask that Steve hadn't seen in thirteen years was in place. "Okay, okay. First things first, how," he paused, clearing his throat. "How are you alive? I read the army's report on your deaths myself. Officially, Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes are dead, declared "killed in action" on October 17th, 2016."

Steve exchanged a long look with Bucky, silently communicating that Tony deserved to know the truth.

"It's a long story," Steve told him softly. "Do you want to sit down? You might be more comfortable if you do."

Tony narrowed his eyes with a scowl. "I'm fine. Now talk, Rogers."

Steve sighed in resignation. At least some things hadn't changed, including Tony's stubbornness. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the desk behind him. "Buck and I enlisted right out of high school like we always talked about." Tony nodded stiffly in acknowledgement. "After our first tour, we joined the Special Forces and formed our own team. We were excellent."

"The best," Bucky echoed gruffly. "No one was better than us."

Tony rolled his eyes at that but didn't comment.

"The army thought so too. Sooner or later, they had us running black-out missions. Strictly confidential. Everything was fine for the first few years, until…"

When he trailed off, Bucky filled in the gaps with a growl. "Until the Brass started using us as their personal hit squad. The jackasses turned us into murderers."

Steve clapped his best friend on the shoulder. "When I confronted my superiors about it, they sent us on one final mission. High-profile hostage retrieval."

Understanding ignited in Tony's intelligent eyes. "It was a trap."

Damn, still sharp as a tack. "Yes," he agreed darkly. "They bombed my team and tried to have us all killed."

"Stevie got everyone out in time," Bucky said, a soft look gentling his distinct features. "We holed up for a few months recovering until we came back here."

Steve watched Tony swallow and scratch at the facial hair decorating his chin. "Your team from overseas, they're The Avengers, aren't they?"

"Some of them, yeah," Steve nodded. "We've expanded, though. Picked up some good people along the way."

"Good is probably a relative term," Tony drawled with a raised eyebrow. "Considering you and your team are a bunch of murdering gangsters."

Bucky stiffened beside him. "Everyone who died at The Avengers' hands deserved everything they got. Hydra was a sickness, Tony. I know you remember that."

"You don't know shit about me, Barnes," Tony snapped furiously. "Don't pretend otherwise."

Steve bit his bottom lip in an attempt to reign in his temper, praying that Bucky would find a way to do the same. Neither of them could afford to lose control where Tony was concerned.

"We're not, I promise," he assured as softly as he was able. "But Hydra was evil, Tony, to the very core. They were slaughtering innocent people, innocent children. They needed eradicating, and we were the only ones who could help. I hope you understand that."

Tony was quiet as he considered them, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. Finally, he sighed and looked off to the side. "Yeah, I guess I can understand that."

"That was our story," Bucky said as he risked a step closer. Tony shuffled his feet but didn't object. "What about yours? We thought you were dead too."

Tony never could stand still for very long, so it wasn't a surprise when he started pacing in front of them. He waved a hand in their general direction, dismissing Bucky's words. "Like I said before, I just changed my name the moment I legally could. I didn't want anything to do with Howard, and he hated that. I moved out to California and started my own company."

Steve's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Wow, Tony, that's incredible. What do you do?"

The engineer glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "I create technology which promotes green energy."

"You're saving the world," Bucky summed up with a hint of pride in his voice.

Tony must have heard it because he scowled at the pair of them. "Don't act like you give a damn what happened to me. You lost that right the second you two sold me out."

His words sliced through Steve's chest like a serrated knife, digging into the grooves with painful memories and a decade of guilt. "No," he denied vehemently. "We didn't."

But Tony simply shook his head. "I don't even want to hear it; I really don't. If you're not going to kill me -"

"We'd never hurt you!" Bucky protested.

Tony threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, what-the-fuck-ever, Barnes. If you're not going to kill me, then you can at least help me figure out who killed my parents. Like I said before, the bastards are coming after me now, so I need help tracking them down. It won't be safe for my friends back home until I've dealt with this."

Steve's heart constricted at Tony's mention of the people he had waiting for him back in California. It had been thirteen years, and Tony had obviously built a successful life for himself, which probably included a family. He most likely had a boyfriend or even a husband that missed him almost as much as Steve did. He pushed down the wave of pain that surged forward at the thought and gave Tony a sharp nod. "We'll help you, Tony, on one condition."

Tony's caramel brown eyes narrowed as he stilled. "I wouldn't expect anything less. What do you want from me, Rogers?"

"I want you to stay here, at the compound."

"What?" Tony sputtered, obviously not expecting that. Even Bucky raised his eyebrows in question.

Steve barreled on. "Like you said, it's not safe for your friends if you went home, which means it's not safe if you went anywhere else. The Avengers can protect you. Please."

His mouth tasted funny at the use of a word he hadn't said in years.

Tony watched him for a few moments, his bright eyes lighting up with options and possibilities. He must have agreed with Steve on some level because he held out a hand. "I'll stay here if you'll find the person who put out a hit on the Starks and end their miserable existence."

Steve didn't bother to check with Bucky to see if he had any issues with this bargain. He knew his best friend would be just as eager as him to have Tony close again. Steve took Tony's hand, a spark bolting across his skin as he finally had permission to touch the man he'd spent half of his life missing.

"You have a deal, Tony."

XX