"I think there is something wrong with your shower."

"What's that?" Tony asked, glancing up from his laptop. He was in the middle of sending a very terse email to a real estate broker who wouldn't stop sniffing around his property in California. It didn't matter if the place was rarely used. That was his business.

"The pressure was sort of strange. I don't know much about plumbing, but I could take a look for you," Steve offered. Tony stifled a laugh, staring at Steve who was bundled into the fluffiest robe he owned. It was the morning after their waffle extravaganza and Steve insisted he was healed enough to be up and about. Tony acquiesced, leading him to one of the bathrooms on the floor.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Mario. It's a rain shower head. It's supposed to be like that," Tony explained with a smirk.

"Mario?" Steve asked in confusion.

"Don't worry about it, Luigi."

"Tony."

"I have to take advantage of these opportunities to tease you before you learn everything there is to know. Indulge me," Tony requested with a fake pout. Steve rolled his eyes, walking carefully over to where Tony was sitting on his bed and perching beside him.

"What's a rain shower head anyway? I thought there was just the one type."

"Oh Steve, there is rarely only one type of anything in this world. And if you find something that is, I'll just invent something better," Tony chuckled. Tony wanted to warn Steve that if he kept rolling his eyes, they might fall out of his head, but he'd save that one for later. "It spreads the water out more, so the pressure is like rain. Pepper likes it for some reason."

"Oh," Steve nodded, running a towel over his head. "It was okay, but I think I prefer a regular one."

"I agree. I've got one that's so strong that it will beat your muscles into submission. I figured I should let your muscles actually heal first though."

"Whatever you've got is good enough for me."

"Ah yes, there's the Steve I know."

"Well, if it will make you feel better, I do have one request."

"Name it. A car? Your own wing of the tower? The heads of your enemies?" Tony listed excitedly. He really hoped it was that last one.

"Um, I was thinking more along the lines of a change of clothes," Steve said carefully, staring at him like he was crazy.

"Oh."

"If I can contact Shield, I'm sure they can arrange for my things to be sent here. Although, I'm not sure how long that would take. I don't even know what continent my stuff is on at the moment."

"I may have ordered you some things to tide you over while you're staying here. Unless there is something there that you really can't live without for a while?" Tony didn't want to talk to Shield at all until all of his plans were in place and he was ready to strike.

"Not clothing-wise. The only things I really care about getting back are my shield and the tablet you got me," Steve admitted. Tony felt a warmth bloom in his chest at the fact that the drawing tablet ranked as one of Steve's most prized possessions. Although he really needed more things to care about.

"Well, I think I can help you out with one of those things," Tony grinned, reaching into his nightstand and pulling out Steve's tablet. He took it gratefully, running his hands along the edge.

"How did you get this?" Steve asked softly.

"Fury gave it to me. He was the one who told me what happened."

"Really?"

"Yep. I pretty much bit his head off in the hospital till he told me he hadn't been the one working with you. Which would've been useful information, might I add."

"I told you Fury wasn't there."

"No, you told me that Fury wasn't one of the higher ups giving you crap, not that he wasn't involved at all," Tony reminded him. He had the chat logs to prove it.

"I didn't think it mattered. You don't want to be involved with Shield," Steve shrugged.

"First off, I'm involved with you, which means I'm involved with Shield. And don't give me that look, you know what I mean," Tony said, waving away Steve's raised eyebrow. "Secondly, if Fury had been involved in your missions, I doubt all this would've happened to you. The guy is a dick, but I'm pretty sure he would've put a stop to all this before it got this far."

"I should thank him for getting this for me. It could've ended up in a museum like all my other stuff."

"Remind me to sue the pants off of those museums when I get the chance."

"That's unnecessary."

"I'll still do it."

"I'm sure you will."

"Jarvis, which room did Steve's clothes end up in?" Tony asked, rolling off the bed and walking over to Steve's side. He held out his hand to help him up, but Steve batted it away, standing up on his own. It still amazed him that Steve was so far along in his healing. In another day or two, it would be like nothing ever happened. But Tony would never forget the sight of that tube down Steve's throat or the terror in his eyes when he first woke up.

They walked down the hall, following Jarvis' direction to the guest room a few doors down. His staff had probably chosen it because it had the most closet space. He might have to shift Steve to a room a little bit closer, just so he wasn't so far away.

"Whose room is this?" Steve asked, leaning against the wall just inside the door.

"No one's. It's just a guest room," Tony replied, sifting through one of the dressers.

"If this was here, why did you have me sleep in your room?" Steve questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I've grown accustomed to falling asleep to the sound of your snoring," Tony teased, making little snorting noises.

"I don't snore," Steve huffed.

"How would you know?"

"I just do."

"Should we ask Jarvis?"

"I don't think that's necessary."

"Perhaps not." Tony was going to have to have Jarvis doctor up some footage, just in case. "How about some sweats and a tee? Standard relaxing at home clothes." He made sure not to put too much emphasis on the word home. Just sprinkling the idea in here or there would be good for now.

"That sounds fine, thank you," Steve said politely, accepting the clothes.

"You need help putting them on?"

"Tony."

"I was just asking," Tony chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. Pulling things off was a lot easier than putting them on. He didn't want Steve to hurt himself out of stubbornness. It was a good thing he'd purposefully chosen things that were easy to get into. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

"I won't," Steve insisted, staring at him pointedly until he left the room and closed the door behind him. Tony resisted the urge to ask Jarvis if there were any bruises that Steve was trying to hide under his clothes, but he thought that might be pushing things a bit too far. People didn't like the idea of a camera watching them as they changed.

Tony had absolutely no idea how he was going to entertain Steve for the rest of the day. And he realized that thought made him sound like he was babysitting, but he kind of was. Steve wasn't technically a baby, but he needed to be taken care of. And Tony didn't feel comfortable enough taking him anywhere yet, while he was still healing. He'd have to come up with something. He was a billionaire with his own tower for heaven's sake.

"You did it!" Tony commended with a smirk as soon as Steve walked out of the room.

"Been doing it for years now."

"And so well. Everything is right side out too."

"Couldn't disappoint."

"You never do, Rogers. You never do."

Tony led Steve into the kitchen, sitting him on the same stool as the night before. Did he go for waffles again or try to dazzle him with something else? Could he even dazzle anyone in the kitchen? Inventing a flying suit felt so much easier than cooking a meal. Although he probably didn't have to do much to impress Steve, who was currently rubbing the sleeve of his shirt.

"This is nice."

"It's cotton," Tony chuckled, grabbing a carton of orange juice out of the fridge. A classic breakfast option, even though he was sort of in the mood for tacos now. Perhaps a breakfast burrito would be close enough.

"It's been nice wearing normal clothes again. I started wearing my suit around the clock, just in case I got called to go on another mission. Saved a bit of time," Steve mumbled. Tony didn't realize he started growling under his breath until Steve looked up at him. "Tony."

"Nothing. I'm fine," Tony muttered, grinding his teeth.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Can you say the same about the orange juice?" Steve asked, raising his eyebrows. Tony looked down, finally noticing that he'd crushed the carton in his fist without realizing. There was juice all over the counter and his hand.

"Shit!" Tony hissed, tossing the garbage into the sink and throwing a rag over the mess to dry it up. He washed his hands, trying to take a few breaths to dissipate his anger. It wasn't working.

"I can't tell you things if this is how you're going to react," Steve sighed.

"You are underreacting, Steve," Tony ground out. "The way you talk about being treated as less than human so casually is not right. And if you're not going to be angry about it, I'll be angry enough for the both of us."

"Being angry about what happened isn't going to change things. I have to put the past behind me."

"That way of thinking doesn't work when you're planning on going right back out there and letting it happen again!" Tony shouted, gripping the edge of the counter as he tried to get ahold of himself. Steve was the wronged party here and didn't deserve to be yelled at, but Tony couldn't help it. He was just too stubborn for his own good. Is this what it was like raising a teenager? Were they just predisposed to not see reason?

"It'll be different this time."

"How? Tell me how it will be different. Why would they do anything differently when they see they can treat you like shit and you'll still come crawling back?" Tony spat, feeling his lips curl at the mention of the people responsible for all this. "Don't forget how they made you crawl out of the goddamn rubble when your body was literally broken."

"That's not fair," Steve huffed, looking rankled at the fact that Tony would bring that up. He wasn't pulling his punches anymore.

"Life isn't fair and we both know that, but that doesn't mean you have to accept more shit than you deserve," Tony shot back. "You said one of those first times we talked after you left that you couldn't hear what I wanted to say. That's because you knew you wouldn't be able to handle hearing it and still go out there and do the same thing. Because you knew it was wrong. Why is it so hard for you to admit that you deserve better than that?"

"And how is it so easy for you to sit back and do nothing?" Steve snapped, standing up from his stool.

"Excuse me?" Tony gasped, jerking back like Steve had just slapped him across the face.

"There are people dying out there. You have the ability to go out there and do something about it, but you won't."

"People are always dying!"

"Nice."

"And I already told you I'm not a soldier. There are other ways of helping that don't involve risking my life."

"For you maybe, but not for me. My body is the only tool I've got in this fight and I plan on using it," Steve said determinedly, before turning and walking out of the room. Tony watched him go, not really having anything to say in response. He could tell Steve for the rest of his life that he was more than just the serum pumping through his veins, but would he even hear it right now? Tony knew Steve knew that what happened was wrong, but he wasn't ready to admit it. Denial was a lot easier than accepting that something had to change.

But Tony wasn't going to give up. He'd taken the lazy option before and let Steve go off on his own, but that wasn't happening this time. Even though they still butted heads, he had bonded with the kid. And once you were in Tony's circle, you stayed there. Not everyone got to be there. Not everyone got invited into his bed more than once and although Steve's scenario was wildly different than the others, the sentiment still stood.

Now he had to figure out a way to convince Steve that he could still save the world, but didn't have to be trampled over to do it. There was an avenue he'd been avoiding going down, since there may not be any going back. But if Steve really was dead set on going back out there, this might be the only option. Tony just hoped they all didn't live to regret it.