Here's the next chapter. I'm almost done with chapter 3, I'm just toying with hard far I want the story to advance. Enjoy!

Tony awoke in the middle of the night with a stiff back and a serious thirst. Thank god that Dum-E had behaved tonight and was on his charging station like a good bot.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Unlock the lab. I think I'll try to sleep in a real bed for a few hours," he twisted, cracking his back. "Maybe I'll even have breakfast with everyone in the morning."

"Right away sir, and may I say that you're full of bright ideas tonight."

"Shut up."

"As you wish, sir."

Tony made his way up the stairs, shuffling along quietly. His heart went into overdrive at the sight of a dark figure on the couch, but he quickly realized that it was just Steve. He at one point must've been sitting up and sketching, but he'd slumped over the side of the couch, his neck in a terrible-looking position, and his sketch pad upended on the floor.

Tony knew that he should just keep walking and mind his own business. But he didn't.

Instead, in the most quiet and gentle manner he could manage, he grabbed a quilt from the back of the couch and draped it over Steve's body, goosebumps evident on his skin. Tony knelt and picked up the sketch pad to set it on the side table, but he quietly gasped at the pencil drawing he found there. He scrunched his face in confusion and blinked to clear his eyes, but yeah it was definitely a drawing of him. He was sitting in his lab in his ratty sweats and white tank top, with a coffee pot in one hand and a screw driver in the other. His face looked happy, like he was explaining an idea that he was excited about. Dum-E and You were in the background, fighting over rebar. The only color was the glow of the arc reactor, done with a light blue pencil. He touched it gently, tracing the reactor and smoothing the slight bend in the paper from falling on the floor. It captured him almost perfectly, minus the stains on his clothes and the dark circles under his eyes. And, if Tony was being honest, he wasn't quite that fit in real life. But who was he to argue with a little flattery?

He was going to flip through the rest of the sketches, but Steve shifted in his sleep, letting out a sigh, so Tony hurriedly closed the book and set it on the side table. He hesitated, before carefully wedged a pillow under Steve's head as if it was a bomb, waiting for him to wake up at the movement. He didn't so Tony told him quietly, "Your neck is gonna kill you in the morning, I'm trying to help."

He watched him sleep for a moment, until the creepiness of the action prompted him to apologize. Thank god Steve wasn't awake to hear it. "Sorry, I'm…I'm sorry. For staring at you, and for being an ass earlier. Mind you, I'm not the only ass around here, there's quite a few and I'm the one taking care of all of them." He ran a hand through his hair. God he needed a trim. "I know it bothers you all, but I stay in the lab all the time because I have a hard time with people…with friendships. I'm not used to them. This is still new, to me."

Steve moved again, hugging the pillow closer to him, but his pale eyelids remained blessedly closed. He looked so peaceful, a gentle smile touching his lips as he slept. His hair wasn't slicked back in the customary Captain America swoop, and it fell in golden waves across his face. It looks good that way, Tony thought. He shook himself.

"Shit, I've gotta get a grip. I'm talking to Cap. In his sleep. About my feelings. Christ."

He turned to go. "Night, Steve."

After a few minutes, when Tony was too far away to hear, Steve replied in a soft voice. "Night,Tony."

Tony felt oddly refreshed that morning. He actually joined the team for breakfast (an assortment of foods curtesy of Clint and Steve), had a stylist come trim his hair (at a certain income bracket, people come to you. Even on Sundays), and been talked into sparring with Nat in the gym for a few hours (ouch!), before heading down to his lab.

S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted demagnetized metal, and while he had explained that it was impossible, he was making remarkable progress in the matter. The problem was that his solution could be easily countered, he could remagnetize it in seconds if it was used against him, so he still had some tinkering to do.

He was currently playing with the device he had created, programming it to cycle various electromagnetic fields at a rate of 1/0.05 seconds, when Jarvis spoke.

"Sir, the Captain is asking to come down to the lab. He says that he doesn't want to disturb you."

"Didn't stop him last night," he muttered, before saying louder. "Tell him to come on then."

A minute later and Steve stepped down the stairs, in shorts and a t-shirt damp from sweat. Tony didn't understand his devotion to exercise. The serum didn't require any extra work to keep him looking like Hercules realized. Surely he knew that?

"You know, the serum keeps you at your physical peak automatically. You don't actually have to work out all the time to maintain your…to maintain yourself."

Steve scratched the back of his neck and gave him a small, embarrassed smile. "Uh, well, I didn't actually know that. I mean I sorta guessed, but…"

"No one told you about the serums effects?"

"Not really. I went from being Private Rogers, only three weeks into basic training, to lying on a table in a lab hidden beneath an antique shop, overnight. I never asked, but I got the impression that they didn't want me backin' out."

"My dad was an ass, I'm sorry. Well, I tell you what I know—"

Steve's eyes narrowed a fraction. "He was a good man. We were at war, it was a different time."

"As his son, I feel like I probably knew him better than you. I'm just saying." Steve's jaw clenched, but he decided to let it go. "Anyway, I'm sure you're aware of your fast healing powers. Beyond that, extended lifespan, again, obvious, um, you don't need to eat to live, though without nourishment you'll fall into a coma-like state, much like you did before. You don't need to exercise to maintain your physique, which was obviously enhanced by the serum to physical perfection. There's also enhanced intelligence, eyesight, hearing, you don't need as much sleep…hmmm, then there's the fact that you can withstand more pain, higher and lower temperatures, your endurance is off the charts…Jarvis, am I forgetting anything?"

"No, sir, you seem to have remembered everything you currently know about Captain Rogers' physicality." Tony rolled his eyes at Jarvis's word choice. "Would you like for me to print the specifics for Captain Rogers?"

"No thank you, Jarvis, that won't be necessary," Steve said.

Tony went back to fiddling with the demagnetizer.

"What are you working on?"

"Er, no offense, Cap, but I don't think this is really your thing."

"So make it my thing. Explain it to me. I probably won't understand 90% of what you say, but I'm trying to learn. I finally figured out the TV recording thing the other day, did I tell you?"

Tony smiled. "The DVR?"

"Yeah, that. Thor wanted to record his shows while he went home for a few days."

"Is he still watching "Cake Boss"?"

"Yeah, that and about a dozen other shows that he insists are amazing. Television sure has come a long way, and there are some interesting shows, but I just don't get the appeal of reality TV."

"Hey, you gotta take the good with the bad, Cap. Welcome to the 21st century, we've got incredible life-saving technology, and "Duck Dynasty"." Tony rolled his eyes and they laughed together. "Okay, I'll try to explain it to you, if I lose you, feel free to tune out. Most do. Anyway, S.H.I.E.L.D. wants something to stop Magneto or any old criminal with a big magnet from being able to render guns and most technology useless, so I'm trying to create a demagnetizer that'll prevent that."

Steve frowned. "But the last time we fought Magneto he couldn't control my shield. Or, to think of it, your suit."

Tony gave him a half grin. "Your shield is composed of a non-magnetic metal. As is my current suit, and nearly all of them. I didn't come up with the name Iron Man, you know."

"Then what's it made out of?"

"A vibrainium alloy, just like your shield."

"But I thought that was really rare?"

"Oh it is, and with the exception of your shield, I own it all. I have enough for three suits at one time, and maybe enough for another shield or some small weapon. I considered making a shield, but then the whole team would want one, and that's kind of your thing so…"

"Well uh, thanks. I think."

"No problem."

Tony explained the demagnetizer as best as he could, and the trouble he was having with it. Steve just let him talk, he sat on the couch and kept Dum-E occupied so he wouldn't annoy Tony.

When dinner time rolled around, Steve managed to force Tony to eat, using his iron grip to pry Tony from his prototype of the demagnetizer.

"Jarvis! Jarvis I'm being manhandled! Attacked! Help!"

"Sir, forgive me if I don't take your distress seriously. You generally enjoy being manhandled, though it usually takes place in your bedroom."

Whether or not it was what Jarvis intended, it did result in Steve releasing Tony as if he was on fire, his cheeks tinged a bright pink.

"Jarvis, come on now, play nice with Steve. He's an innocent."

"I apologize, Captain Rogers. I have been with sir for many years, and I have to say he's rubbing off on me."

Fortunately, that double entendre slipped by Steve.

There was some surprise at Tony joining them for dinner. Natasha quirked her brow, Bruce gave him an analyzing look, and Clint congratulated Steve for getting Tony to act like a human. Thor was currently in Asgard. Hopefully making sure that Loki is well locked away, Tony thought.

Since he had bypassed lunch entirely, Tony ate everything that Steve put on his plate, and then some. He and Clint got into a small knife fight ("Calm down, Bruce, they're just butter knives—ouch! Dammit Barton!) over the last piece of garlic bread, which Natasha settled by eating it.

After dinner, their teammates slowly drifted away. Bruce left to go do some meditation, muttering something about the team being worse for the Hulk than any villain. Natasha went…went to do whatever it is that she does. Creepy, untrustworthy, spy-stuff in Tony's opinion. He always had Jarvis keep an eye on her, but that didn't mean she wasn't up to something nefarious while appearing to simply read a book. Clint swooned over having the TV to himself for the night, and ran to the living room to watch some horrible show that pitted amateur fashion designers together. Or at least, that's how Tony described it to Steve, ignoring the fact that he often stopped and watched for several minutes if it was on (sometimes longer).

That left Tony and Steve at the table together, the laughter from their conversation fading into silence as they stared at each other, finishing their meal.

"I think we've been set up, Rogers," Tony said, realizing that the rest of their team had slipped away so that they could eat their dessert together. The team knew that they had been fighting lately, and they were currently trying to mend their issues, or at least successfully ignore them. It felt awkward sitting at the table with Steve without other people or his bots or a mission to buffer it. What did they expect from him, he was terrible at interpersonal relationships, a fact they should all know well by now. He had even managed to drive away the one person besides Jarvis who really understood him. He wasn't in love with Pepper anymore (he wasn't sure he had ever been, in truth), but it didn't mean that it didn't hurt.

"Yeah, I think so. Not that you're gonna be much help, Stark. No offense, but I've never seen you be good at this." He stood up and started gathering the dishes, not seeing the hurt look on Tony's face.

"Jeez, Steve. You really know how to hit a guy where it hurts—"

"What, you think you have to be good at everything? 'Billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist,' remember? I may've been in a deep freeze during your childhood, but I'm pretty sure you never washed a single dish. Actually, have you ever washed dishes?"

"Wait, what? What does that have to do with anything?" Tony asked, confused (and a little insulted), I thought we were talking about…

"No need to get defensive. I'll do the dishes, but Barton has another thing coming if he thinks I'm doing them tomorrow night."

Oh…we're talking about the dishes. Doing the dishes. Not...not the other thing. Wait a second… "I've done dishes before you know. Just because I'm usually too busy building the tech that saves our asses and, I don't know, like the whole world, to even bother to eat, doesn't mean I haven't washed dishes before."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Well then come and help me, Barton used a dozen pots when he could've used two."

"I think you're exaggerating, but I'll help you out this one time, Rogers."

Tony carries his ice cream bowl to the sink. "Do you want me to wash or dry?"

Steve points to the stack of already-washed dished, "Dry, please."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Tony gives him a little salute, with a grin. He picks up a dish and a towel and starts drying, but not before he hip-bumps Steve, grinning at him. Steve grins back, but doesn't return the hip-bump and Tony frowns, confused that he didn't take revenge.

They continue doing the dishes in a companionable silence. For some reason, despite the fact that they had a perfectly good dishwasher, Steve insisted on washing everything, and when the final bowl was handed to Tony to rinse and dry, he was glad because his hands were getting prune-y. Before he could dump the soapy water though, Steve hip-bumped him, causing Tony to jump in surprise and spill the soapy water all over himself. Without thinking if he was going to start a war, he flicked some water right into Steve's face, making him laugh.

Tony finished rinsing and drying to bowl, watching Steve carefully out of the corner of his eye for any sudden movement. When he finished, he backed away to face Steve.

"Well, I guess this is my cue to shower and go to bed." Tony said, still backing away towards to exit of the kitchen.

"So early?" Steve just leaned against the counter, looking perfectly innocent.

"Yeah, I gotta get beauty rest for this date tomorrow," he said with a sigh, scratching his arm. "Rhodey keeps telling me how haggard I look and it's beginning to wear at my ego."

"You don't look haggard, you look—wait, date tomorrow? But that's when we rescheduled for training at S.H.I.E.L.D. all day, we even changed the time to later in the day for you."

"Well, uh, not that I don't appreciate the thought, but I'm pretty certain that no one told me. Or they didn't tell Pepper or Jarvis, who we all know are more in control of my life than I am."

Steve realized with a jolt that he actually didn't tell Tony. He'd just assumed he wouldn't have plans, and there would be less whining about training if he sprung it on him last minute.

"Well, you're going to have to cancel. You have to be at the team training session tomorrow, we begin at one and probably won't be done until nine or later, from the schedule Hill and I outlined."

Tony's face hardened, his every instinct bucking from being told what to do. There was pretty much nothing he hated more than being told he had to do something, or being forced to do something. Despite what everyone thought, he was not a child, and being treated like one was insulting. He knew that being contrary didn't really help, but he's Tony fucking Stark, if he's not allowed to be eccentric, who is?

"Sorry Cap, but it's a bit late for that now. Playboy I may be, but I do try my best to not be unforgivably rude to my dates. I'll just leave a few hours early. Not a big deal."

"Yes it is a big deal," Oh ho, Steve was breaking out his Captain voice, his arms crossed and everything. Not a good idea. "See, this is what I was talking about. Do you even care about the team, or do you just want your name on the news for something positive for once?" Tony flinches. Steve's voice softens a tad and he sighs. "Every time you do something like this, all I can think about is how you're tarnishing your father's legacy and…and I'm glad he isn't here to see it."

The comment about not caring about his team hurt, but his father was another level of off limits. He didn't talk about Howard, and no one was allowed to talk about the subject to him. How many interviews had he walked out on due to that line of questioning? Enough for Pepper to force him into therapy, not that it helped much. He had thought that Steve understood that that was off limits. Apparently not.

"My father's legacy? Oh my god Rogers you knew him for about three seconds when he was still a young idealistic prick. You wanna know my father's fucking legacy?"

Steve just blinks at him, confused about the sudden anger.

Tony walks right up to him, uncrossing his arms and poking him hard in the chest. "You. You're my father's legacy. He never stopped searching for you, he spent countless hours and millions of dollars searching for you, and yet he didn't have a second to spare for nurturing his own son."

"He was a busy man, Tony," he said, exasperated. "What, you want my pity? Your father was rich and brilliant, just because he was busy with more important things than praising your spoiled ass—"

"Oh, so that's what they called it in the forties. Rogers, I don't want your fucking pity, I want you to stop running your mouth when you don't know shit. Maybe you don't have any issues with child abuse, with forcing your kid to do pony tricks with his five year-old genius brain or else he gets a beating, but it seemed pretty fucked up to me. Maybe that was perfectly fine back then, but nowadays that's considered a terrible crime."

The color drained from Steve's face, but Tony didn't notice, he was too far gone in his own anger and pain. "You remind me so much of him. I never did one single thing that made Howard happy. Who cares that I built a super computer when I was six from spare parts and an old heater. And who cares that I finally found you, finally succeeded where my father failed? Too bad he wasn't here to see it. I may've been the only son he had, but you were obviously the one he wanted. But you know, maybe you should be mad at me. If I hadn't kept looking for you, if I had just left you in the ice, you might actually be happy and you wouldn't have to put up with me."

With that, Tony spun on his heel and left, Jarvis already opening the elevator. It closed behind him and Steve sagged into the counter, his eyes suspiciously damp.

Steve's hearing picked up a noise behind him. He turned to see Natasha appearing out of the dark. "You really fucked that up, Captain."

"Maybe you shouldn't listen in on other people's conversations, Romanov."

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't, I just got back from the gym and I heard the end of your conversation. Maybe you shouldn't pick fights in a public area."

"I wasn't—I wasn't picking a fight. You heard him, he just went off! Stark is crazy, which you should know, you did his assessment and evaluation."

"Which assessment?"

"What do you mean which one?"

"There was the initial assessment, which I was under orders to exaggerate. Also, he was fucking dying. Then there's the real assessment, which I gave you when we started the Initiative."

Steve blanched, his mouth falling open. "Dying? What do you mean dying?"

Natasha sighed and suppressed another eye roll.

"Dying, you know, the state which leads to death? Ring a bell? I get that Stark has trust and self-esteem issues, but this is a known incident."

"Tell me what happened." Steve said, in his serious Captain voice, which tended to annoy, rather than intimidate Natasha.

"The substance powering his arc reactor, palladium, it was poisoning his body. It was pretty bad, he almost died, and S.H.I.E.L.D. only had something to help with the side effects, not cure it. We brought the matter to the attention of our best scientists, but they didn't have a clue."

"But he's okay now?"

"Yeah, he invented a new element to power it. From what he told me, this new element is a major upgrade for him. It's what this entire tower runs on."

"The tower runs on his heart?" He looked at the lights with concern, his eyes flicking to every electrical object that was plugged in.

"Of course not, it runs on a separate unit."

"Oh."

Natasha suppressed yet another eye roll. Honestly, the sooner Steve got a clue, the better. All his overprotectiveness of Tony was wearing on her. "You know…despite my background as a spy, which essentially means I've told more lies than truths, I think this team would be better off if we all shared more about ourselves."

Steve huffed, "Yeah, but I don't think Tony is up to sharing. I mean really, apparently he was dying and he didn't think to tell any of us?" He ignores the fact that Natasha knew. For some reason, it hurts deep in his chest that Tony would trust her and not him, but he figures that it's nigh impossible to keep anything from her. If he's the super solider, she's the super spy.

"That's just who Stark is, Cap. I don't actually know of an instance where he asked for help. Help kind of has to be thrust upon him."

Steve let's out a disgruntled noise that's more of a whine than a groan. He stands against the counter, his posture still slumped, while she fixes a cup of tea. She takes a sip and finally relaxes. She starts to leave, but figures she'll try to help one more time tonight, and turns to ask him, "Is it really that big of a deal if he misses the last three hours? That's usually when we do hand-to-hand combat anyway, so we're prepared and not worn out. He doesn't have much to do on that front since he usually fights from the air."

"Yes! What if we needed him?" Steve is instantly indignant, his serum-enhanced stubbornness coming out again.

"If we really needed him, he'd be there, Steve. And that fact that you don't seem to know that says a lot more about you than about him. Read my assessment for Christ's sake."

Steve blushes and looks away, "I thought it was just a copy of what I'd already read."

"Well now you know better. Read it, I'm going to bed."

And with that he was alone in the kitchen. He thought about staying there to wallow, but he eventually made his way upstairs to retrieve Tony's file which was becoming thicker all the time, holding his mission reports and any other information that Steve (and S.H.I.E.L.D.) felt was pertinent. He settled into his couch and began to read...

Tony had marched off to his room angrily, and he was now regretting it. He had been tired, but between the adrenaline, the hurt, and the contemptuous expression that had been on Steve's face, he knew he wasn't going to sleep a wink. He was lying down on his $20,000 bed, his arms folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling and wished that he had went to his workshop instead. But he was stuck here, because he didn't want to risk going downstairs and running into Steve, who Jarvis said was still in the kitchen. He needed to have an elevator that went straight to his lab. At the time, making all visitors go through the stairs seemed like a good security protocol, but now it just seemed paranoid and stupid.

"Jarvis, has he gone to bed yet?"

"Not yet, sir. You already have asked that I tell you when he does. Rest assured, I will not fail in that simple task."

Jarvis sounded a little snappy. Tony sighed, bored out of his mind even though he had only been in his room for half an hour. He drummed his fingers on his arm, tapping out a staccato beat that was a line of code written in binary.

Since it's still a reasonable time in California, he decides to call Pepper so she can cancel that date. He was pissed that Rogers thought he had a right to order Tony around out of the field, but he was grateful for an excuse to cancel the date. His dating life was not yet pathetic enough to warrant blind dates. Or so he told himself.

"Wear the grey suit, the Armani one," she says, as soon as she answers.

"Actually, I'll be wearing the Iron Man suit. Call her and cancel, I'll send flowers if you give me her name."

"What? You can't cancel, she's already scheduled her flight to New York for this date. You promised me you wouldn't back out of this, Tony."

"First of all, that promise was made under duress. You were being threatening and taking up my time when I was working. I can't be held responsible for anything I said. Second of all, I apparently have training to attend, according to Captain Stick up my Ass."

"Tony, if I never threatened or manipulated you, you'd be a homeless nobody. It's for your own good. But I suppose that is a legitimate reason to cancel, hopefully she'll understand."

"That's not true, but thanks, Pep."

"No problem, I know I sort of forced this on you."

"Yeah, you did. And honestly, I'd really rather not reschedule. I'm sure she's nice, but if you can't cope with the superhero lifestyle, I doubt anyone can."

"I think you would be surprised, Tony. I…I want things that you can't give me as an Avenger, and I would never, ever, ask you to cut a piece of yourself out just to make me happy. I didn't understand it before, but I do now. You really are Iron Man."

"It still hurts that I couldn't be what you wanted. But I want you to be happy, Pep. As long as you're happy, I can be too."

"I'm not completely there yet, but I will be."

"I know. But I'm glad we're still friends. I wouldn't know what to do without you and Rhodey."

"You'd probably die of starvation in your lab."

He chuckled. "Probably."

"Goodnight, Tony, and good luck tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Pep. Love you."

"Love you too. Behave, don't antagonize Steve, and don't let Natasha beat you up too badly."

He huffed. "No promises. Bye."

"Bye."

He sighed, holding the phone to his chest. They had broken up nearly a year ago, but the sting of the rejection still hurt. At this point, he thought he should be used to not being good enough for anyone, but apparently it still hurt.

"Sir, Captain Rogers has retired to his rooms," Jarvis told him.

Tony leapt out of bed, excited to escape his depressing thoughts. He rushed down to the lab, thankfully encountering no one on the way. True to form, he worked through the night, only emerging for a shower and a meal before their training the next day. He ended up even being on time for it, which he got some strange looks over.

The training went fine, he went with his full-on avoidance strategy, obeying Steve's commands, only cracking jokes when he wasn't around, and not looking him in the eyes. He wasn't even that angry now, he was more embarrassed and he just wanted to forget the whole thing. The rest of the team noticed, but didn't say anything, and Natasha actually volunteered to team up with him during the divide and conquer exercise, since he usually was paired with Steve. He decided to make her a new weapon as a thank you, because the last thing he wanted was to be forced to converse with Steve.

The training session is going horribly. Well, maybe not entirely horribly, so long as he and Tony aren't anywhere near each other, the team performs flawlessly, even Agent Hill didn't have much of anything to critique. He avoids thinking that her pleased reaction is probably a result of Tony barely speaking, much less engaging in his usual sassy backtalk.

Steve's leadership is there, but the spark isn't, the creativity he often relies on to get through the impossible situations is nowhere to be seen. He can't stop thinking about the dark circles under Tony's eyes, and his surprise that he showed up at all.

Steve feels like shit when he hears Tony telling Natasha about him cancelling his date.

He feels like extra shit because Tony won't meet his eyes and calls him "Captain". Not Cap, not Capsicle, not Wing Head, not Steve, not even Rogers. Tony has never called him Captain, his permanent state of airy relaxed-ness preventing such a formal method of communication.

And mostly he feels like scum after reading the much more detailed report on Tony, the real one. The one about how he idolized Captain America as a child, and his father was abusive, and openly admitted to caring more about his work than he did about Tony. The report emphasized how deeply Tony cared about his teammates and his various problems with his self-esteem and rejection. How devoted he is to his work, to the point of severely neglecting himself. He had been forced into the hospital a few times over the years for malnutrition, sleep deprivation, and mania by Pepper and Rhodey. It talked about his trouble making friends, substance abuse issues, health issues, and various other traumas. Natasha was right, he had fucked up. But, considering all the times he and Tony had argued, he hoped that they could move on yet again. He had resolved to start treating Tony better, to start trying to understand him rather than attacking him. And, he resolved to make Tony take care of himself. He may be on a level of genius that Steve wasn't even capable of comprehending, but he apparently didn't know a damn thing about keeping himself alive. Food, water, and sleep were all good starters.

When they were done for the evening, Tony jetted home in the suit to avoid the car ride with everyone else. Steve just hoped that Jarvis would let him into the lab. Jarvis could be vindictive, especially towards anyone or anything that hurt Tony. And as he had learned previously, Jarvis was the wrong person to piss off. Stealing himself for the cold showers he would doubtless endure, he started to plan his apology to Tony while they headed home.

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