Tony is content to be mad at Rogers the moment he meets him. That may have something to do with the ungodly clash they get into a few hours into their relationship, but that is neither here nor there. Howard had lauded Rogers long enough for Tony to begin forming his own, less than stellar opinions of him and Rogers didn't disappoint. He was stiff, uptight, and cold, with a tongue that could cut almost as deep as Howard's could.

So Tony doesn't feel any remorse when he gives as good as he takes. Let Rogers feel a little of what he feels. If that is even possible. He doubts anything could get under his skin. There's nothing under that spangled suit but bravido and patriotism.

…Is what he believes until Loki and his mind-controlled band shoot out the Helicarrier engines and send them hurtling down to the earth below.

Somehow he and Rogers end up together amid the chaos of smoke, fire, and debris. Tony grunts as he pushes himself up. The blast had knocked them both off their feet and Rogers reaches for him, helping to pull him up.

"Put on the suit," he orders. The words are different than before, a rushed directive rather than a harsh taunt.

"Yup," Tony gasps, his mind already leaping from one thing to the next as he hears Fury announce the damage over the comms. Engine number three is down and if they don't get it running they risk falling out of the sky.

He tells Rogers he'll meet him at the engine and focuses on suiting up. He jets out, following the smoke trailing behind the Helicarriers in dark clouds. To say the damage is extensive would be an understatement. Most of the entire compartment is torn away, the edges jagged and twisted, electric lines spraying sparks into the air.

He hovers outside the mess, thanking his lucky stars that the turbine itself is still there. It is jammed with debris, but attached. He scans the wreck and sees Rogers emerge from the remains of a hallway, ushering the few remaining SHIELD agents inside.

It is surprisingly easy to work with him. There are no angry quips and no hesitation to do what he asks. There is a brief "Speak English," comment from Rogers when Tony begins to ramble about maglevs and polarities, but he is competent enough to figure out the rest. He even manages to sort out the relays without any input from Tony—no matter his "It seems to run on some form of electricity," statement.

Tony does wonder for the first time how long Rogers has been around. SHIELD's file had mentioned finding him in the ice, but they hadn't mentioned when. Given SHIELD's tendency to be overly secretive Tony had been assuming Cap had been around for a while and hiding under the radar while he acclimatised. But now he is remembering and paying attention to Rogers' confusion over pilates, and his exclamation at the single reference he'd understood…

He shakes his head and focuses on the rotors. He needs to get it up to speed before Steve can pull the lever and get him out. He can hear Rogers fighting on the other end of the comms, and he summises that the Loki agents must be kicking up a fuss. He can't do anything about that so he mostly ignores it.

He heaves against the propeller blade and his repulsors strain, flaring brightly as he flies faster. A yell from Rogers echoes through the comms but Tony barely hears it because he reaches speed, the turbines spinning faster than he can fly.

"Cap," he grunts. "Hit the lever."

Rogers voice is strained, wind whipping at his words. "I need a minute here!"

Tony's mouth opens in surprise and he doesn't have time to answer. He can feel his weight shifting, his hands falling away from the propellers as he gets sucked backwards. His back presses against the turbine behind him and he has just enough time for his heart to drop.

"Uh oh."

Ventricular force yanks him into the propellers. He ping pongs in the blades like a tin can in a vending machine. His suit dents inward as he gets battered, completely unable to get his bearings. Just as his stomach begins to climb up his throat something pops and he gets ejected, fleeing the worst carnival ride of his life.

He tumbles head over heels, his heads-up display a swirl of colourful, unintelligible data. He grits his teeth, holding his breath as he fights to restabilise. His repulsors fire and his dizzying flight jumps and dips back up to the broken platform he'd left Rogers on.

He has just enough time to glimpse Rogers splayed out by the lever, being shot at by the last remaining Loki dude. Tony's less-than-controlled landing hurtles him right into the goon and he knocks him out, collapsing tiredly on top.

His breath echoes loudly in his helmet and he flips it up, gasping. "Wooh," he breathes, pushing himself up gingerly. The man under him doesn't move and Tony sits back, rubbing a hand over his face. The metal is cool against his cheeks and he presses against a minor headache, relieved that his vision isn't fuzzy. The last thing he needs right now is a concussion.

He can feel bruises blooming on his limbs, deep tissue aches that will take days to heal. He groans and rubs the back of his neck even though the suit prevents that from doing much. He can hear Rogers breathing behind him and he huffs. "Guess pullin' a lever can get complicated."

He's kinda talking about the gunmen, but he realises Rogers might take his comment as another jab and he glances back, prepared for another round of snide remarks. That doesn't happen. Rogers is slumped against the bulkhead, sitting half-crouched with his hand loosely clutching his collar. He isn't looking at him. Tony isn't even sure Rogers had heard him. His gaze is focused outside the ship, staring unmovingly at the expanse of endless sky.

Tony's brow pulls down and he stands up, grunting as the dents in his suit press against his bruises. "Rogers," he calls, hiking up to the platform Steve is sitting on. "What happened back there?"

The silence stretches for a beat too long before Steve blinks. His head moves on rusty hinges as he looks back at him, his eyes glazed. His gaze is off-centre, not quite focused on him. The look is eerie and sends a shiver down Tony's spine. He crouches down on instinct, his eyes running over Rogers, trying to see if he's injured.

Rogers blinks again, slow and dazed. "Fell," he says, and Tony's confusion grows. Rogers' bleary gaze shifts back to the ragged edge of the Helicarrier, focusing on a trailing metal wire. "Fell out. Couldn't get to— to the lever in time."

Tony's head darts between Rogers and the blue abyss. "Wait, you fell? Outside the ship?"

The wire line jerks in the wind and Rogers' eyes follow it, his hand clenching on his collar. Tony follows the movement, noticing the creases that cut into the leather, as if he had clung to that thin metal wire for dear life.

Oh. That might explain why it had taken a second for Rogers to respond. He isn't sure if that explains why the Captain is so shaken now, but it gives him something to start with.

"You good?" He scans Rogers again. Maybe he'd gotten some kind of injury in the fight. He can't see any blood, although Rogers' face is sheet-white, a faint sheen of sweat on his skin. He looks surprisingly young without his helmet on, his hair wind-whipped and no longer swept back in a perfect coift.

Rogers doesn't answer, breathing thin and shallow as he stares somewhere past Tony's ear. His hand flexes on his collar, the front flap of the suit unclasped and pulling forward. It gives him a rumpled, dishevelled look that Tony had never imagined on Captain America.

Tony shifts, blood pooling in his legs. He is sore and beat up, and crouching on a metal platform isn't helping anything. Rogers' gaze jerks the instant he moves and his hand darts out in the blink of an eye. Tony freezes as Rogers' hand clamps around his forearm, the metal creaking in his grip. Rogers' eyes are wide now, something almost frantic in his face as he finally looks at Tony, his breath catching.

"You'll fall."

The words punch out of him and Tony can feel tremors running down his arm into his armour. Tony swallows, his mouth dry. Rogers' behaviour is putting him on edge. There is something absolutely wrong with it and it leaves him floundering. This is not how Captain America acts. This is not the same man who had stared him down in the science lab.

"I won't." His voice is raspy and he clears his throat, breathing in. "I gotta suit, remember? I can fly, Rogers. I'm not gonna fall."

His words do nothing. Rogers' gaze drifts back into a listless stare, his hand still wrapped firmly around his arm. Tony's eyes flick over him, his palms growing sweaty. He is unnerved by the silence and his pulse kicks up a beat, discomfort crawling on his skin.

He opens his mouth and blurts unthinkingly, "Rogers, what's your problem?"

He winces because he hadn't actually meant to sound so blunt. He just has no idea what is going on and he doesn't know what to do about it. Once again Rogers doesn't get prickly and uptight at the comment. He sways minutely and his eyes squeeze shut before he glances back to the bottomless sky rushing past them a few feet away.

Wind rushes through the cramped space and Tony can feel Rogers' hand tighten on his gauntlet, his throat bobbing. "S'rry." It takes Tony as second to realise he'd actually apologised. Rogers' voice is a low mumble, his eyes dropping. "It's just— I dunno. It's like the train. I wasn't— wasn't fast enough." Metal whines in Rogers' grip. "Fell."

Wait a second. The train is a key clue, Tony's brain bolting to stories he'd thought he'd forgotten. Howard had waxed poetic about Steve Rogers every day of his life, but every once and a while he'd mentioned the other Commandos, including James Bucky Barnes, the man taking a special place among them.

"He was the only one of them to give his life, besides Steve," he'd say, stars in his eyes as he explained what he'd read from the mission reports. "He got blown out of the train, sacrificing himself to protect Steve."

Tony had brushed off the statement on principle, refusing to admire the man blindly like Howard had. But now, looking at Rogers, admiration is the furthest thing from his mind. Instead the magnitude of that train mission stares him in the face. Rogers sits shaky and pale, clinging to him for dear life to keep him from falling out of the Helicarrier.

How…long has it been for him since Bucky had died? The thought leaves him dumbstruck. He can't make an exact calculation, but depending on how long Rogers has been out of the ice… it's possible it hasn't been very long.

His mouth falls open, but he doesn't know what to say. Before he can think of something, Fury's voice cuts through their earpieces.

"Agent Coulson is down."

Tony's eyes widen and Rogers' gaze shifts, his eyes hardening as they focus. Hill's voice comes next. "Paramedic's are on their way to your location now."

"They're here." Fury's voice is flat and grim. "They called it."

A hole opens up in Tony's stomach and a rushing fills his ears. His hands feel cold and it takes him a moment to notice Rogers' reaction. His face has gone blank, clueing Tony into the fact that he had looked distressed before, no matter how distant he'd first appeared. His lips part and his hand falls away from Tony's arm, landing limply on his knee. He blinks, and something about him folds down and away, his face closing off.

His shoulders pull out of their slumped position, straightening back into what they used to be. Everything looks like it used to, his face hard and his eyes guarded. He moves to stand up and wait wait he looks like he did before but Tony knows he'd just been reliving the death of his friend and now he's dealing with Coulson—

His stomach feels sick with the implications and he forces himself up. "Cap—?" The word gets stuck in his throat and he doesn't think Rogers hears it. Rogers turns away from him, his hand lifting to his ear, his back stiff and straight.

"Mr. Stark and I are on our way," he says, no trace of the shaky, hesitant voice from just minutes ago. His hand drops and his fingers brush against the flap of his collar. Tony has just enough time to see something flash over Rogers' face before it clears and he mutters lowly. "I need to change."

With that, he clears out, leaving Tony wrong-footed and reeling, trying to figure out what to do with what he'd seen.

oOo

After the battle, Tony wakes up from the black void of space to find Rogers' leaning over him, a look of relief on his face. Rogers sits back as Tony sucks in a breath, dirt and soot smudged on his face and hair.

"What happened?" Tony gasps, and Rogers looks more tired than he'd ever seen him.

"We won," he says simply, and Tony lets his head fall back.

"Ah yeah, yay," he manages, his voice cracking with fatigue. His eyes jump to Thor and Hulk who are also clustered around him and he gives them a weak fist bump. "Good job guys. You know what, let's just not come in tomorrow."

He has a brief thought about sitting up but his body protests instantly, so he just lets himself ramble. "Let's just take a day. Hey, have you guys ever tried shawarma? There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it."

His eyes flick to Rogers and he goes speechless as the man honest-to-goodness smiles. His hair is a mess and his suit is torn and singed, his youth shining through again.

Dang it, Tony thinks, because he thinks he's going to have to start calling him Steve now.


Later, after the Avengers secure Loki and wrestle the Tesseract away from SHIELD, they go out for shawarma. Tony mulls over his wrap, chewing slowly. He's had time to process his impromptu trip to space and it occurs to him that he'd basically fallen to his death in front of Steve, the look of pure relief sticking in his mind. He swallows. His body feels like one big bruise, a low-grade headache hanging behind his eyes.

That doesn't stop his mind from racing, plans for the Avengers and Stark tower intertwining. His gaze drifts to where Steve sits across the table, his chin propped up on his hand, his eyes closed in exhaustion. He looks worn out, the frozen exterior from their first meeting nowhere to be found.

Tony's mind flashes back to the moment in the engine, Steve's face tight and pale, looking scared and alone and young.

Captain America doesn't look like that. And that's going to change everything.


AN: My friend watched Avengers with me and I was reminded of Steve's fall out of the Helicarrier and I feel like that would be super traumatising?

Anyway I needed to write about that.