Flawed heroes

I didn't much care for Avengers, but now I'm all fired up. I haven't seen the trailers, (I don't wanna spoil myself) but of course I've seen lots of scenes and GIFs. The actors look great -there's a lot of chemistry there.

Anyway, this story's more about friendship than humor.

Tony Stark burst into SHIELD's headquarters late on a Saturday evening, grim-faced and determined, pushing past young agents who tentatively greeted him and who, when ignored, cleared the hallway for him. The ones that didn't move, remained in front of a large TV screen, watching footage from a recent tragedy. Tony paused only long enough to see a male reporter pointing at scenes of wreckage in the background. "…Despite the presence of Captain America and others," he said, "Dozens of lives were lost." He looked into the camera. "As we contemplate the aftermath of this latest battle, we cannot help but wonder: How long before all of us succumb to the foes of these so-called heroes?"

"Oh, crap," Tony mumbled. "Our foes?"

Damn reporters. Always looking at the downside. That reporter in particular had turned the public against them on more than one occasion, and while Tony was used to it, there were others who were still new at this. Some of them might be too sensitive for their own good.

Thinking of this, Tony made a beeline to the rec room, where he was sure to find at least one of his colleagues. Thor and Spiderman were there, looking exhausted in their torn, dirty outfits. Spiderman, too tired even to remove his mask, had merely raised it so he could drink his Doctor Pepper. Thor was just as subdued, pouring himself some beer. Later on he might drink directly from the keg, but for now, he was using a glass, and he raised it when he saw Tony.

"Greetings, Iron Man; your assistance was badly needed today."

Tony looked wistfully at the glass, then forced himself to look at Peter.

"Where's Rogers?"

"He doesn't want to talk, Tony."

"Yeah. I know. Is he in his room?"

"I'm serious. He feels terrible about what happened."

"I know. What about the conference room? Is he there?"

"Tony -" Spidey half-rose from his seat but Thor motioned him back.

"Let him be," Thor said quietly. To Tony, he said, "He is in the gymnasium."

...

Rogers was in the gym like Thor said, punching a heavy bag, venting his anger on it. He didn't acknowledge Tony, but a slight pause between punches made it obvious he knew someone had come in.

Tony strolled in.

"Hey, Steve," he said casually.

Steve didn't respond. Instead, he threw a couple of merciless punches.

Tony winced. "Ouch. Find someone your own size, why don't you." He watched Steve for a moment, then decided to take the direct route. "I heard about the train crash," he said. "Wanna talk about it?"

Steve was too polite to stay mum for long.

"No."

"No? Really? You sure?"

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Oh. So, it's personal."

Steve glanced at him, noticed the suit Tony was wearing, then looked away.

"Yeah," Tony said. "I was at a party. You got a problem with that?"

"I don't care what you do." More jabs.

"Good. Then let's talk about what's pissing you off."

"There's nothing -"

"Yeah, yeah," Tony said dismissively. "I know; you're only punching the stuffing off that bag because you're content with the way things turned out today." He paused, but got no response from Rogers. "Ok, look. If you don't wanna talk about that, then that's ok. Let's talk about something else. Me, for instance. Why don't you wanna talk to me?"

Steve took a deep, exasperated breath. He punched the bag, then steadied it with both hands.

"Because you're so damn glib about everything."

"Glib?"

"Yeah. You think this is just a little inconvenience, don't you? You think if I get drunk I'm gonna forget what happened."

Tony raised an eyebrow. Getting Rogers drunk had never occurred to him, but now he considered the possibilities.

"Mmmh, no," he said thoughtfully. "I don't think that would work with you."

Ironically, agreeing with Rogers only pissed him off more.

"You don't know what might work with me. You don't know me."

"You're right," Tony said. "I don't. But I know what you're going though."

Steve didn't reply. Instead, he started unlacing his gloves –clumsily, with his teeth.

Tony sensibly refrained from offering help.

"Boxing's over?"

Steve threw the gloves in a corner and started to walk away.

Tony smiled. "You do know I'm just gonna follow you into the showers, right?"

"Leave me alone, Stark."

"Sure. After I've said what I have to say."

Steve glanced over his shoulder. "If it's about that train -"

"Of course, it is."

"Then save it. Nothing you say's gonna make me feel better."

"You don't know that. Come on," he put a hand on Steve's shoulder. It was meant as a friendly gesture, but Rogers pointedly pulled away.

"Hey, take it easy," Tony said good-naturedly. "Come on," and he reached for Rogers again.

"Get your hands off me," Steve said. There was a real warning in those words.

Tony snorted. "What?"

"I said get your hands off me," Steve said, angrily this time; "Why are you so friendly all of a sudden, anyway? You've kept your distance ever since I came here!"

Tony didn't reply. Instead, he set out to tease Steve. Mimicking Hulk's tone, he said, "Oh, no touch Captain America. Only gods touch Captain America-"

Steve flushed. "Tony, I swear -"

"Thor ok; Odin ok. But no Iron Man. Iron Man soils Captain America's shirt!"

Exasperated, Steve started to turn, but Tony deftly blocked him.

Steve took a deep breath. "Back off Stark, or -"

Tony ignored the warning. "Here," he said, and he started tugging at Rogers' shirt, pulling the young man in all directions. "See? I can touch Captain America; I bet I can even -" But he never got to finish. It was his own damn fault: He saw Steve's fist rise, he saw it coming, yet he didn't move. He was confident Steve would pull back at the last moment.

He didn't. Steve's fist landed on his face, and the last thing Tony saw before staggering back was Steve, looking as incredulous as he himself felt.

...

Tony blinked his eyes open. Once the stars cleared, he saw the white ceiling, and then Steve's face.

"Tony? Are you all right?"

Tony didn't immediately reply. He wasn't sure he knew the answer to that. He knew he'd been pummeled, but that was ok; he got pummeled all the time -except that he usually got pummeled while wearing his armor, and he was most definitely NOT wearing his armor right now.

Oh, shit.

He remembered then. Alarmed, he gingerly raised his hand and, after a couple of misses, he managed to touch his nose. Ow.

No wonder Steve looked horrified. "Are you ok?"

Tony glared. "No, I'm not ok, you moron! You punched me!"

"I thought you were gonna move! Why didn't you fucking move?"

"I didn't know you were gonna hit me for real! Where's your self-control for God's sake? Even Banner held it together longer than you! How -" He did a double take. "Did you just say, 'fucking?'"

"N-no."

"Yes, you did." Tony wanted to smirk, but his facial muscles wouldn't obey. Defeated, he lay back and closed his eyes. "I forgive you, then. Now, let me die in peace."

Rogers left him then. From the sounds he was making, Tony deduced he'd gone to fetch some ice. Tony opened one eye and saw Steve rushing back with a towel. Rogers fell on his knees again and gently pressed the towel on Tony's face.

Tony groaned in relief. The cold felt good. After a moment, he took the towel from Steve and held it on his nose.

"I'm sorry," Steve said, "I truly am."

"Save it for the courts, Rogers. I'm gonna sue your ass."

Steve didn't seem to take that seriously. The son of a bitch even smiled!

"I don't have any money," he said. "And I didn't hit you that hard."

"It's the principle of the thing. Oh, and anything you saw will be used against you, by the way." Tony lowered the towel and glared again. "Well? You're gonna help me, or are you gonna let me lie down here?"

Steve helped him sit, then carefully dragged him to a nearby couch so he could rest against it.

"You ok?"

Tony nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. You were right; you didn't punch me that hard."

"I'm sorry."

Tony stared at him. He did look sorry at least.

"How do you feel now?"

Steve shook his head.

"I feel like…"

"Shit?"

"Hell," Steve said. Reluctantly, he added, "I feel better."

Tony smiled smugly. Even a throbbing nose wouldn't rob him of his triumph.

"I knew you would. The worst you can do is keeping your anger all bottled-up, Rogers; focusing it on something –or someone- helps."

Rogers rubbed his forehead. He looked tired, all of a sudden.

"I can't believe you did this."

Tony shrugged modestly. "It worked."

Steve hesitated, then he sat on the floor, next to Tony.

"You let Banner punch you?"

"Nah. I ducked just in time and then ran like hell. Thor's hammer on the other hand did a lot of damage to my car. He did pay for the repairs, though."

They were silent a moment.

"You're right," Tony said quietly. "I haven't been friendly. I don't know why. You're one of the good guys; it should be easy." He hesitated. "Good guys with flaws I have no trouble with."

"Like Banner," Steve said.

"Like Banner. But you're… you're just…" he waved a hand in a vague way.

Steve smiled uncomfortably. "Self-righteous," he said.

"Nah, I wouldn't call you that," Tony said, "But yeah. Sort of."

"I'm only trying to do right," Steve said quietly.

"I know."

"It's all I ever wanted -"

"Yes."

Steve gulped. "But I failed."

Tony sighed.

"Rogers, there's something you've got to know. It's something we've all got to learn, sooner or later -sometimes the hard way," he added, almost to himself.

"What's that?"

"You can't save everybody."

"I don't accept that. If we can't save everybody, there'd be no point in having these powers."

"No, Rogers; the point is, you get to save a few lives at least. We're not gods –well, except for Thor, and even he's been known to screw up. It's like you said: you're trying to do right. We all do. But we're flawed; we make mistakes. Sometimes, we mess up so badly, we…" He let the word trail off. "My point is, no matter what, we've got to go on."

Steve took a deep breath.

"Listen, Steve. There's a reason you're here. The group needs someone to look up to; someone like you."

"What about you?" Steve said. "They look up to you too."

"Yeah, and I'm sick of it." Tony started to get up but couldn't make it. Steve immediately rose and offered him a hand. Tony hesitated, then took it. Once he was standing, he let go of Steve's hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a party to go to." More likely, the infirmary.

Steve let him reach the door before he spoke.

"Tony… If you ever feel like punching someone… I'll be right here."

Tony paused by the door. He almost turned, then. He almost spoke, only there were too many things to say, ("thanks" or "how about right now?"), and he knew that if he started, he'd find it difficult to stop.

It was easier not to say anything.

The end