This chapter was twice the length of the others, so I decided to cut it in half. Part two will be posted by next Tuesday at the latest.

Thanks for all your support thus far! It means the world to me.


"I'm sorry, you're sending us where?"

Fury looked up from the mission briefing and frowned at Steve's interruption. "Fairbanks, Alaska."

That's what Steve had thought Fury'd said; he'd just hoped he'd heard wrong. It had to be below freezing there this time of year, if not sub-zero. He didn't want to pull his phone out to know for sure.

"You're seriously sending the man who was basically frozen for seventy years to one of the coldest and darkest places on the planet this time of year?" Tony asked without looking up from whatever he was doing on his phone.

Fury turned to face Steve, and for the briefest of seconds, his expression might have flashed to apologetic. By the time Steve had processed that as a possibility though, Fury had returned to his regularly scheduled detachment. "I know what an inconvenience this is for you, Captain," he said, "but Director Pierce called in a favor with me, so I'm calling in a favor with you."

A phantom chill ran down Steve's spine and he huddled into the warmth of the parka he was wearing, even though it'd merited him more than a few looks as he entered the SHIELD base. "And Tony can't go alone because?"

"Because Pierce promised the two of you."

There was an expectant pause, at which Steve realized he was supposed to agree, but he couldn't make his mouth form the words.

Fury obviously misread this as a negotiating tactic, for he sighed loudly then said, "And I'll owe the two of you one."

Tony, who up to this point had been slouched in his seat, barely paying attention, shot upright. "JARVIS, you got that recorded?"

"I do indeed, sir."

Tony grinned widely. "Then I'm in. When do we leave?"

Pointedly ignoring Tony's enthusiasm, Fury turned again toward Steve. "What about you, Captain?"

"Underprivileged school, huh?" Steve asked while trying to hide the way his teeth clacked together. When Fury nodded, Steve sighed. "Then I'm in too."


He left the base in almost a ridiculous number of layers. He noticed Tony eyeing them as he boarded the quinjet but before the inventor could comment, Steve snapped that he'd take them off before they got to the auditorium.

Tony just held up his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't say anything. Frankly, I'm surprised you're here at all. Wait, no, I'm not. Underprivileged school? Chance to straighten out some of our impressionable youth? It's right up your alley."

"Is riding in silence an option?" Steve grumbled as he dropped into the seat across the aisle from Tony, who just grinned.

"Nope! But I did bring a selection of movies to pass the time." Tony made a swiping motion with his hand and a holographic list of movie posters appeared in mid-air. He then repeated the motion, which sent the posters flying around an invisible carousel. "You pick."

Sensing he didn't have a choice, Steve copied Tony's gesture and paged through the movies at a slower rate. He didn't know what most of them were about but immediately noticed the recurring warm desert theme. It was subtle, yet extremely Tony, and Steve couldn't have been more grateful for his friend's attempt to make this trip easier for him.

One movie though stood out from the rest. "It's a Wonderful Life?"

"Emotional warmth," Tony explained as he tapped over his heart. "If you're up for that sort of thing."

"Emotional warmth actually sounds nice right now."

Tony made an elaborate flourish at the ceiling then kicked his seat back. "J, queue up the Christmas movie."


After It's a Wonderful Life, Tony picked Tropic Thunder, then Steve chose McLintock! Even though Steve drifted off not far into the western, Tony kept it on for background noise while he pulled out his phone and dove into SI business. He only looked up when he was paged by ground control to begin landing procedures.

Once the quinjet was safely on the ground, Tony looked over his shoulder to see Steve blinking sleepily at him. "Welcome to Alaska," he crooned as he stretched his arms over his head then tapped his bracelets. The red-and-gold suitcase tucked under the first row of seats immediately shot into the air and expanded until an entire Iron Man suit had assembled in the quinjet. Tony stepped into the opening then the armor quickly knitted itself closed around him.

Steve remained in his seat, slightly more awake but scowling so hard lines were etched into his forehead.

Tony popped his faceplate open and said, "You can walk in like that. No shame."

"We both know I can't," Steve snapped. He exhaled quickly as if to prepare himself, then began shucking his layers. Parka after parka fell to the ground, followed by at least two scarves, a pair of gloves, a beanie, and a thick fleece blanket. Tony was surprised Steve hadn't given into heat stroke on the way over here, given that the quinjet's heater had been running the entire time.

Steve's color reduced with each layer he shed until he was down to one single jacket and was exactly one shade darker than the snow-covered landscape around them. "Ya know, we can go buy you some thermals to wear under your suit," Tony suggested, but Steve shook his head.

"I'm already wearing them." Then his expression softened. "Thanks for your concern, but I really am fine. We're going like twenty feet in the snow, and the heat will be on in the auditorium."

It was a brush-off but Tony decided to give Steve the benefit of the doubt. For now.

He turned away as Steve began putting on the final pieces of his uniform but flipped back when something in Steve's movements caught his eye; the supersoldier had hesitated slightly before pulling on his cowl. The motion was so small Tony probably wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't already watching Steve like a hawk—despite what the media thought, he happened to be very in tune with what could possibly trigger his friends. In the many missions or events the two of them had been on in the past six months, not once had Steve done that little tick.

Tony naturally had to know why. "What was that?" he demanded.

Steve looked up at him in confusion. "What?"

"The thing you did with your cowl. What's wrong?"

"What thing I did?"

To short-circuit the recursive questioning, Tony popped open his face mask then repeated the expression he'd just seen on Steve's face while he pulled on an imaginary cowl of his own. Steve actually looked surprised, which led Tony to suspect he hadn't known he was doing it.

"Out with it."

Steve sighed, almost in surrender, then admitted, "It doesn't fit quite right."

"And?"

"I'm fine, Tony."

"You're clearly not. And if I have to do this twenty questions thing again, I will call Pepper right now and sic her on you. You're not hesitating because it doesn't fit right. What's the real problem?"

Steve scowled and was quiet for a moment while he visibly debated answering. "It gives me headaches if I wear it too long," he finally said. "But the speaking engagement is short today, so it won't be a big deal." He stood up and motioned toward the door. "Can we go now?"

"How bad?"

Steve frowned and it was only when a hologram of a cell phone keypad hovered in front of his face that he said, "Depends on the day. Sometimes it's just a headache, other times it can become a migraine. But today it's not going to be—"

"Have you talked to SHIELD about it?"

"We're really doing this?" When Tony nodded, Steve slowly let out his breath through his teeth. "Yeah, I did. They loosened it a little but it's the best they can do with the way it's stitched. Something about the reinforced plating that only stretches so much." Tony opened his mouth to argue, but this time, Steve raised his hand flat and stopped him. "Look, Tony, I really do appreciate your concern but it's fine. Today's a short day, we're not going to be in there for that long, and they're looking at redesigning my uniform next quarter. It's okay."

"Seriously, Steve?" Tony wasn't angry... okay, maybe that wasn't entirely true. He was a little angry that Steve was so desperate to keep his problems away from everyone that he hadn't told them his suit caused him migraines after their worst battles. The anger quickly faded though, leaving disappointment in its wake. Tony hated nothing more than people befriending him just for his genius, but having friends who were hurting who didn't see the need to ask him, the genius inventor, to look at the thing that was hurting them just jumped up to a close second. "You've seen my lab, right? Not once did you think that maybe I could do something about your cowl?"

"I did. But you're always so busy with running intel for SHIELD or SI. I didn't think—"

"Ah, the crux of the problem." Steve shot him a dark look but Tony hurried along. "I can carve out some time to look at it for you when we get back. You shouldn't have to suffer until the bureaucrats get their crap sorted out."

Steve was visibly uneasy, as if waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop, and it took a few minutes for him to realize Tony was serious. "I'd really appreciate that," he said slowly. "Thanks, Tony."

"You're welcome." Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder, then in the same motion, tugged a thick beanie back over Steve's head. "Let's just get this over with and get back to warmth, yeah?"

Steve grinned and nodded. "Yeah."


The presentation went off without a hitch and Steve and Tony were sent off with handfuls of warm cookies and hot chocolate. It was only once they'd returned to the quinjet and Steve had climbed back under all his layers that JARVIS informed Tony a storm was en route. A beat later, he received a similar page from the control tower. After a minute's deliberation, it was decided that if the quinjet left now, it'd miss a majority of the storm headed their way; a wait any longer though would have them grounded until said storm passed.

"Looks like we're just in time," Tony said as he began flipping switches and getting the quinjet ready for takeoff.

The wind was now whipping around the quinjet, ratting the seams, and back in the cabin, Steve clutched the armrests of his seat, desperate to get out off the ground. He heard Tony talking to ground control to finalize the takeoff before the engines roared to life and they finally lifted off.

Steve's breath lodged in his throat as they sailed into the air, and it wasn't until they'd leveled out that his lungs began to function normally again.

"See, Cap?" Tony said as he walked back into the cabin and dropped into his seat from earlier. "Nothing to it."

"I'll believe that when I can see the sun again."

"Cheer up, Cap." Tony swiped his hand through the air and brought back the holographic assortment of movies. "I guarantee each of these classics has at least one sunny scene in it."

Just as Steve was reaching out to make his selection, the plane lurched to the right; suddenly Steve was no longer on the quinjet. He was back in 1945, seated at the wheel of the bomber that was ready to unleash its payload on New York. The icy wind whistled through his hair, his split cheek burned and his compass was wedged into the control panel in front of him.

"I'm going to need a rain check on that dance."

Something hard connected with Steve's cheek and he looked up in confusion to see a dark-haired man… Tony… standing over him, looking… worried?

"Thank God," Tony said with visible relief. He held out a bottle of something that was wafting steam. Steve didn't care what exactly it was and downed the hot liquid in three gulps.

"Sorry I slapped you," Tony continued, "but you were freaking out, and I really can't have Captain America go section eight while we're forty thousand feet in the air. The exterior is strong but not that strong."

"You have a suit," Steve mumbled through chattering teeth. He clutched the thermos in his hands and desperately tried to soak up its warmth.

"But you don't. So you're welcome."

Steve waited for his teeth to stop clacking together before asking, "What happened?"

"Turbulence. It's expected for the next few hours, by the way. Are you gonna—"

"I'll be fine," Steve replied shortly. And he would. Now that he knew the turbulence was coming, he could prepare for it.

Tony reached out and snagged the thermos, much to Steve's displeasure, but thirty seconds later, it was full (and warm) again. Steve sipped at this one much more slowly, savoring every sip of the strong coffee.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Steve shook his head.

Tony, for once in his life, didn't press. "Okay then. Since you've forfeited your choice of film, I will pick in your place. J, queue up The Mummy."

The movie was entertaining enough to distract Steve from the situation at hand, but not so much that he had to pay total attention to the plot. His mind was anxiously absorbing the various changes to his surroundings such as the dips in altitude and fluctuations in wind speed. His stomach lurched with every bump and his jaw clenched so tightly he might have cracked a few teeth.

But he was managing.

Until about ninety minutes later when the plane lurched again, this time hard enough to send Steve crashing into the window. Memories threatened to overwhelm him, but with an enormous amount of mental effort, Steve managed to keep himself from succumbing. As he blinked the black from the corners of his eyes, he heard Tony shout, "Cap, I need you!"

Steve tore out his seat belt and staggered toward the cockpit. Suddenly, there was a sharp crack and the plane went into a deep dive. As alarms began to blare from the cockpit, Steve's feet swung out from under him and he grabbed the wall of the plane, denting it slightly in his struggle to stay upright.

"What's going on?" he shouted as he hauled himself into the cockpit and buckled himself into the copilot's seat. As he looked out the window though, he realized he needn't have asked. The smoke pluming from the quinjet's right engine told the entire story.

"I don't know," Tony grunted, his gaze dancing over the instrument panel while he fought to keep the quinjet steady. "But I could use a little help." Steve immediately reached over and tugged on the yoke as hard as he could without breaking it. Even with his considerable strength, it took both him and Tony to bring the nose of the plane up even a little bit.

Ground control was blaring over the speakers, demanding a status, but it was background noise to Steve who was intently focused on not snapping off the yoke.

"Right engine down. So is the instrument panel. Must be a short." Tony was talking so quickly his words were almost incomprehensible. "Altitude, still good—"

"Can we fly with one remaining engine?" Steve interrupted.

Tony shook his head. "We're going to have to evacuate."

"What?" Steve was so surprised by Tony's words that he almost let go of the yoke.

"Steve!" Tony shouted and the supersoldier hurriedly reinstated his grip. As panic built inside him, he glanced out the front windshield and saw the icy whiteness rushing around them.

"Listen to me!" Tony shouted, throwing his body into Steve's without actually taking his hands off the controls. "I won't let anything happen to you. They have our coordinates, there's a tracker in the suit, and Rhodey's already on his way. But we gotta get out of here. I can't protect both of us if we crash."

Steve was staring at a different landscape, wind whistling through his hair from the rather large hole in the floor.

"There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast."

"You gotta trust me, Steve. I won't let anything happen to you."

"I gotta put her in the water."

"If we hurry, there's nothing around. JARVIS already scanned it. But we have to go now."

"Right now, I'm in the middle of nowhere."

Steve swallowed hard, pushed back on the panic threatening to overwhelm him, and nodded.

"Good. Hold us steady and I'll fetch the suit." There was a quick pause then Tony asked, "You sure you got it?"

Steve nodded, then shifted more to the left and grabbed both sides of the yoke, placing his hands just outside of Tony's. "Hurry," he grunted as the plane banked sharply to the right.

Tony let go and it took everything Steve had to keep the quinjet from a complete dive. He heard the whine of Tony's armor in the background as he felt the wind beat on his bloody face, saw the Stark logo on the top of the instrument panel, and looked right the compass with Peggy's picture.

"This is my choice."

Then a massive pile of blankets and miscellany were dumped on Steve's head, jarring him back to reality.

"Hold onto those," Iron Man's metallic voice said as it took over keeping the quinjet aloft. Steve quickly wrapped himself in the emergency blankets Tony had acquired then stuffed the hot packs and food items into any pocket or pouch he could find.

The plane lurched again and Tony cursed as he fought to keep it in the air. "Ready?"

Steve wanted to do anything but agree, but he knew he was without any other choice; the cold he could survive, a plane crash not so much. With shaking hands, Steve unbuckled his seat belt and braced himself against the console with his knees. "Ready."

"I got you, Steve. I promise," Tony said before he released the yoke and fired his repulsors at the windshield. Glass fragments rained down around them as the quinjet began to plunge toward earth. Then metal arms wrapped around Steve's waist, Iron Man's thrusters screamed to life, and they sailed out the windshield into the cold, unyielding storm.


To Be Continued...