Chapter 11: Maybe I Need You

This chapter inspired by Andrea Gibson's beautiful poetry.

Maybe I need you the way that big moon needs that open sea
Maybe I didn't even know I was here 'til I saw you holding me
Give me one room to come home to
Give me the palm of your hand
Every strand of my hair is a kite string
And I have been blue in the face with your sky.

Steve stood frozen in the kitchen, dumbfounded as he watched the all too familiar-looking woman approach him.

"Steve Rogers. It's such a pleasure." She extended her hand and he hesitantly grasped it, staring at her incredulously. "My name is Sharon Carter. I'm Peggy's granddaughter."

He felt a sigh of relief slip past his lips. "Uh, it's… It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." It was all he could do to even speak. He could feel Tony looking at him and he suddenly wished that Sharon were just a mirage, something in his head he had simply imagined, so that he could turn around, look Tony in the eyes, and address what had just happened.

But sadly she wasn't a mirage, and she wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm sorry to come here like this, but I just had to meet you. My grandmother… Well, she isn't doing too well. I was at the nursing home all day today speaking with the doctor, and I needed to get some air and clear my head. So I came here." She paused and looked away, pursing her lips nervously. Steve noticed they weren't quite as full as Peggy's had been, and her eyes were a much lighter brown. After spending a few moments observing the ground, she met his gaze again. "I guess I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner with me tonight."

There was a long silence. Too long. Steve heard Tony clear his throat and then looked over to see him standing next to him.

"Tony Stark," he offered, extending his hand to Sharon. She hesitantly shook it, still looking to Steve for confirmation. "I think you've caught Steve here a bit off guard. I've seen pictures of your grandmother from way back when, and I must say the resemblance between the two of you is uncanny. But I'm sure he would love to join you for dinner. Why don't you wait downstairs while he changes into something more sophisticated? I'll call you two a car."

Sharon looked like she didn't want to leave, but when it was clear to her that Steve was still unable to respond, she nodded and let Tony escort her to the elevator. Steve waited until the elevator doors had closed before exploding.

"What the hell was that? You're sure that I would love to join her for dinner?" He was absolutely livid, and he wasn't going to hide it.

"I thought I was doing you a favor. She's beautiful, really. The spitting image. And she wants to talk with you. Why not go?" Tony's voice was so flippant and emotionless that something inside of Steve began to doubt everything that had occurred in the last five minutes.

"You… You think I should go? There's nothing you want to talk about? Nothing you think we should discuss?" Steve was practically begging Tony now, begging him to acknowledge—even more so than that, confirm—what had happened between them only a few moments earlier.

But it seemed he would be disappointed. "Yes, I think you should go. Have a fantastic time. And be sure she takes you somewhere nice."

And without another word or glance, Tony turned around and left the room, leaving Steve to glance after him dumbly as he attempted to process the unexpected and altogether unwanted turn of events.

It couldn't happen. He couldn't let it.

As far as he was concerned, it had been an accident. A weak moment that he wouldn't let define him.

It didn't matter that feeling that particular pair of lips on his own had been the first moment he'd felt good, truly good, in months. It didn't matter that he hadn't wanted it to end as suddenly as it had. It didn't matter that every part of him was screaming to turn around when he'd walked away.

In another time, in another world, these things would have mattered. But right now, Tony wouldn't let them.

His suit jacket was a little wrinkled, but Steve was beyond caring about it. He slipped it on with a heavy heart, trying to pull himself back together.

He didn't want to go to dinner with Sharon Carter. There was too much on his mind, too much pain in his chest. But he wouldn't be rude and decline her invitation. Maybe he could even pretend that she was Peggy, and use this night to make up for lost time.

Maybe, but not likely.

Just don't think about it, he told himself.

Don't think about her reaching across the table to touch his hand. Don't think about the way his eyes will mist over when he sees the way she looks at him. Don't think about the red lipstick she'll leave on his lips.

Don't think about it.

Tony had never taken orders well, especially from himself.

She was breathtaking—he couldn't deny that. He spied her leaning against the sleek black car partway down the block, and now that his head was a bit clearer, he took a few moments to properly take her in. She wore a red dress that clung to her every curve, with a very old-fashioned neckline that kept the outfit modest. Her skin was porcelain white and her legs went on for days.

He saw so much of Peggy in her that it made his chest ache. Her dark brown hair, the color nearly an exact match, fell in gentle curls on her shoulders, and her lips were as red as a winter rose. And just like her grandmother, her perfectly arched eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if she was constantly analyzing her surroundings. The eyes were different, however. Where Peggy's showed fierceness, Sharon's showed an undeniable tenderness. And in that moment, with his head still reeling and his heart still aching, tenderness was exactly what Steve needed.

"You look handsome," she complimented as he approached her, her red lips tugging up into a dazzling smile. He glanced at his slightly wrinkled suit coat and smiled bashfully.

"You look beautiful, Peg-" he grimaced at his mistake and hastily corrected himself, "Er, Sharon."

She smiled forgivingly as he glanced at her apologetically. "Thank you, Steve. Shall we?"

He nodded quickly, reaching out to open the car door for her. Her eyes softened at his gesture and she slipped inside gracefully. After he closed the door, he took a few seconds to look back up at the tower, wondering if Tony would even notice if he decided to never come back.

Tony watched through the window as Steve glanced up at the tower. For a moment it felt like he was looking straight at him, but the moment didn't last long. He hopped into the car and it slowly pulled away from the block. Tony followed its path until it had completely disappeared from his view. This was the part where he was supposed to chase down the car and apologize. Then Steve would get out, and it would suddenly start raining, and… What bullshit.

Steve was going to have a great time. She'll probably take him dancing, and teach him how since he'd never had the chance to learn. She'll laugh at his clumsiness, and her hair will stay perfect all night. They'll kiss goodbye, and she'll giggle at his dopey grin and gently wipe her lipstick from his face.

It would be a perfect night, because Tony would be playing no part in it.

He was trying to pay attention. He really was. Sharon wasn't a boring woman. In fact, she was sensational. Everything she said, every gesture she made, and every breath she took was filled with a sort of energy that was absolutely mesmeric to every individual she encountered.

Peggy had captivated people with her confidence and strength; Sharon captivated them with her vitality and enthusiasm. The difference between the two women's personalities was striking, but certainly not unwelcome. He liked that she was different. Having dinner with a Peggy clone would have been too painful, because no matter how much between them was similar, he'd know that it wasn't really her.

Sharon had taken him to a beautiful little restaurant on West 44th. It was very old-fashioned and atmospheric. The waitresses wore lipstick and pin curls and there was a band playing songs whose lyrics he actually recognized.

It was a very kind gesture, probably to make him feel more at home. And it did, in some ways. But in others, it just made him feel like more of a stranger, who didn't truly belong in any decade.

They had begun the evening discussing what it had been like for him to wake up seventy years into the future. She must have sensed that it was hard for him to talk about, because she'd immediately switched topics and instead started detailing the life of her grandmother. How she'd married a wonderful man and had two beautiful children, but never stopped telling stories of Steve Rogers and the many sacrifices he had made for his country, his loved ones, and the world.

Nothing Sharon told him was boring or not of interest. He loved hearing about Peggy, even though it was painful to think about her having a life without him. But as interesting and enjoyable as it was, he couldn't give Sharon his full attention. She wasn't the person he should be talking to right now. No matter how much he didn't want to admit it, he knew that there was somewhere else he would rather be.

"Steve? Are you all right?" He was startled out of his reverie and looked up to see Sharon staring at him, her eyes shining with equal parts concern and curiosity. The last thing he remembered her talking about was the story Peggy had told her about the search missions sent out the week he crashed the plane.

"Erm, I… No. No, not really. I'm sorry, Miss Carter. There's somewhere I have to be."

Her eyes looked disappointed, but her lips tilted up into a cheerful smile. "All right. I'll ride with you back."

He didn't like how the apartment felt. Cold, lonely, empty. Steve had brought something to the atmosphere—some humanity, some light. And now that he was gone, it didn't feel the same. It would probably keep feeling that way, too, because he doubted Steve would ever want to set foot in it again.

So Tony poured himself a glass of brandy, turned off all of the lights, and sat in the darkness, trying to convince himself that feelings meant nothing—especially his.

It was a soft kiss on the lips, and though he was currently preoccupied with something else, it would still remain memorable. It was very sweet, very friendly, but also very purposeful, as if she was determined to make at least one aspect of this night worth his while.

She smiled as she pulled away, gently placing a hand on his face. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Steve," she whispered, running her thumb along his cheekbone before lowering her arm.

He reached out to grasp her hand tightly. "Thank you, Miss Carter. I hope the same for you."

And with that, she nodded goodbye, and climbed back into her car.

Steve looked over at the entrance to the tower as the car pulled away, bracing himself for what he would find inside.

Tony knew that getting drunk wasn't going to help anything. He'd remember everything just as clearly, and feel everything just as potently afterwards. This was a kind of pain that couldn't be numbed.

But he drank anyway, because he didn't know what else to do.

Come back. Just come back to me.

"OW!"

Tony jumped at the sudden noise and looked around frantically. Someone was in his apartment. His blood ran cold as he realized that he was incredibly vulnerable where he was, sitting in the middle of the dark living room, and he was much too buzzed to even think about asking JARVIS to turn on the lights.

"Tony? Tony, are you in here?" Steve's voice met his ears and his fear melted away instantly.

"Steve?" Warmth flooded his chest and he got up, longing to reach out and touch Steve, to prove that he had truly come back and he wasn't just suffering from some sort of drunken delusion.

"Tony, why are the lights off?" he heard Steve coming closer, but he still couldn't see anything. He'd had JARVIS pull down the blinds, so there was absolutely no light coming from any of the windows.

"JARVIS, turn on the—"

"No, wait!" Steve's voice cut through the darkness sharply, and Tony stopped midsentence and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What? What is it?" he asked. He could sense that Steve was much closer now, and when his reply finally came, his suspicions were confirmed.

"I want you to keep the lights off. Just for a little while." He was only a few feet away. But Tony didn't want to bridge the distance for fear of rejection, so he just stood there in the dark, listening to Steve's steady breathing and trying to regain control of his foggy thoughts.

"And why do you want me to keep the lights off?" Tony asked evenly, peering into the darkness at where he suspected Steve was standing.

"We can talk this way… without having to look at each other. We can say what we need to say, and we can just pretend that we're talking to an empty, dark room."

It was a good idea. Not being able to see Steve's face would make things a lot easier for Tony. It would make it a lot easier to reassure him that what had happened was just a mistake.

"I'll go first," Steve's voice sounded confidently through the darkness, and Tony mentally steeled himself for what he was about to hear. "I couldn't even focus on what Sharon was telling me all through dinner, I was so shaken up by what happened," he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, then continued, "So I told her that there was somewhere I needed to be, and I left. But I lied. I didn't need to be here; I wanted to be here. I wanted to be here with you, Tony. So I'm here. And what I want now, more than anything, is for you to give me a reason to stay."

It took a few moments for Tony to properly register the way Steve's voice shook at the last sentence, but when he finally did, something inside of him cracked. The dam burst open and he let the feelings overtake him. He wanted him to stay. There was no question.

He had lost so much. He had lost his father, he had lost Pepper, and through these seemingly never-ending painful ordeals, he'd lost all hope. He couldn't lose Steve, too.

A reason to stay. It had to be a good reason. A good, solid reason that would convince Steve he was serious.

After a few moments, his heart fell, because he realized that he truly didn't know what to say.

Steve listened carefully, hoping that Tony would speak up and say something. Anything.

One reason, Tony. Just give me one reason.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Steve." The sentence cut him like a knife. So this was it, then. It was over.

He began to turn away, hoping to sneak out of the room before the lights came back on. But he stopped short when he heard Tony say something. It was barely above a whisper, but Steve heard it as clearly as if it had been spoken right next to his ear. Four words that changed everything.

"… Maybe I need you."

Author's Note: Hello my little bunnies! I'm SO SORRY this update took so long. I've been so busy! I'm working way more than usual, and one of my best friends is staying with me for a few weeks and we've been getting seriously distracted by the Sims (yes, we made a Steve & Tony and they have two kids named Brooklyn and Peter and YOU CAN'T IMAGINE HOW IN LOVE THEY ARE OKAY) and never-ending gossiping… hahaha. But here's a nice long chapter for you to apologize. I hope you enjoy and please, please, PLEASE review!

~magicinthemoonlight29