When Steve woke, he was slouched on a bench in Central Park. Blinking into the waning light of the day, he frowned, looking around at the people. He fell asleep? That wasn't... His frown deepened. Nobody paid him attention. He put his hands down on the bench and his right slipped on a newspaper. He'd slept? In a public place? Reading a newspaper... Steve frowned and stood, shaking himself out to head back to Stark Tower.
Waving to Jarvis as he entered, he took the elevator up and ran into Jan.
"Hey Steve! There you are! Where were you?" She smiled.
"I was... I don't know. I guess I fell asleep."
"Fell asleep?"
"In Central Park."
"Huh. You never do that!" She turned back towards the big living room, organising some papers.
"I know..." Steve said slowly, frowning about. "Hey... Where's Tony?"
She looked up at him. "He's been gone for a while now. You remember? His trip to Japan?"
"Oh..."
"You okay?"
"I'm fine... I guess..." He frowned, thinking. "I guess sleeping threw me off."
Jan laughed. "Well, we're having a sit-down dinner tonight, since everyone's going to be here. You're going to be here tonight, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be here." He smiled at Jan. "I'm going to... I'm going to go shower. I guess. I'm. Yeah."
Jan laughed again. "Aw, baby. Go get yourself straightened out."
Steve indulged himself in a rare long shower, letting the water sluice over his body and warm the chill that didn't come from cool temperatures. He towelled himself off and then 1aid naked on his bed while the shadows slowly took over his room and made it dark. He watched the play over the ceiling, frowning over his strange afternoon. He never fell asleep in public places. Especially not one so open as Central Park. Call him paranoid, but Steve had better instincts than that. The soldier in him cringed wildly at his blunder. That had been foolish. There were enemies everywhere. He couldn't take those sort of chances.
He sighed, skin chilling in the darkness.
He hadn't even found Tony to say goodbye to him before his trip. Maybe that's what was bothering him. He always said goodbye to Tony and told him to have a safe trip. It was just a thing. And he'd wasted time at Central Park, missing his friend's departure. Stupid.
He scoffed to himself and rolled onto his side.
This was juvenile behaviour. Acting all off because he'd missed saying goodbye to Tony?
Rolling off the bed, he dressed and searched out his cell phone and called Tony's number. He probably had it off because he'd still be on the plane... But he could leave a message. Allowing himself a small smile, Steve paced his room as Tony's phone went to voicemail.
Hello beautiful. If you're listening to this, I'm obviously not available, because I'm probably doing something like saving the world or inventing something to save the world. It's what I do. But hey. When I've got the time, I'll get back to you. Probably. Now get on with it and tell me what you have to say! -beep-
Steve chuckled. "Your message is so arrogant, Tony... I can't believe you get away with that. Anyway. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for missing you before you left. I didn't get a chance to say 'bye,' so I'm saying it now. Bye! Have a great trip, and I'll see you when you get back. We'll take care of the world for a little while. Have fun. Bye."
He hung up and then set his phone on the dresser to answer the knock at his door.
"Let's go, Cap! Dinner!" Peter said, bouncing by to knock on the next door.
Steve smiled and made his way to the dining room. "What's the occasion?" he asked when he'd taken his place at one of the heads of the table. Out of respect, Tony had said, when they sat down for a team dinner to celebrate their latest victory. You're the team leader, he said. Then why do you get the other head of the table, Peter had groused, sliding into a chair. He'd broken a wrist and wasn't too happy about it. Tony had only grinned and shaken his head. I own the place, of course.
Jan whirled into the room and sat herself down on his right. "Sit down dinner. Tony hates them, so while he's gone, I'm taking the advantage of being civilised beings and organising a sit-down dinner."
He chuckled. "I'm sure Tony'll be glad to hear that..."
"The man never really eats anyway," Clint mumbled as he shuffled in and found an empty chair.
"He does so!" Steve protested.
Snorting, Clint gave him a look over the top of his shades. "Don't bother, sweetheart. We all know you're sweet on him. No need to defend. Besides. We think of it as a stupid annoying endearing trait, rather than just a stupid annoying trait." He grinned and tipped the chair back on two legs.
Luke Cage entered, ghosted by Natasha, and grabbed the back of his chair and pushed it down cause Clint to swear and grab at the table, flailing. It caused more than a few chuckles as more people trickled in, and before long the table was full.
Steve smiled around at them and lifted his glass of wine. "Well, I'll toast to our continued safety and success! Here's to Jan's recent success on her new line. Here's to Peter's article getting recognised."
"Woah, I didn't even know you knew about that, Cap!" Peter whispered.
"And here's to Luke and Jessica's Dani turning three!" There was a chorus of clinked glasses and then swallows.
"Thanks, Steve." Jan smiled at him and then nudged shoulders with Hank next to her. "We have an announcement as well. Hank and I are getting married. Again."
Steve added his voice to the well-wishers and then conversation erupted as they got to the eating part, beans passed, cornbread cut, and Jarvis fetching a refill on the water pitcher.
"Geeze, nice to have the night off," Hank said around a mouthful of meatloaf.
"Damn it, Hank!" Clint groaned. "Now you've gone and cursed us! Everybody eat fast; we're not going to get to finish!" And began shovelling food into his mouth.
"Don't be ridicu—" Steve sighed as the Avengers alert went off.
Clint groaned again, Peter, Luke, and Carol joining him. "Damn it!"
"Avengers Assemble," Steve said grimly and ran to his room to get his costume on.
The beat back the villain—some raving lunatic driven mad by his semi-psychic powers. So they trooped back to Stark Tower and their dinner—cold, on the table.
"Welcome back," Jarvis said with a smile. "Shall I reheat it?"
"We didn't get to dessert," Clint said, as if that were an answer.
"I'm probably hungrier than when we started!" Luke said, picking at a piece of cornbread from his plate.
"We can start an assembly line with the microwave..." Steve suggested.
"No need, Captain Rogers," Jarvis smiled. "The oven is now hot. The plates will warm nicely."
"You're the best, Jarvis," Carol said, stretching her arms up. "Geeze... I'm gonna need a hot shower."
"Why don't you go take one, and by the time you're finished, the food will be ready. All of you." Jarvis lifted a few plates from the table. "Go on and take your time."
Peter dropped his mask on his chair. "You really are the best, Jarvis."
Steve helped carry the plates into the kitchen where Jarvis cycled them through the oven.
"Really, Steven, go ahead and get your shower if you need one. I shall be fine," Jarvis said, shooing at him.
So Steve set the plates down on the counter and went to change. In the dim of his room, he sighed into the dark at the feeling that he had missed something. He checked his phone. No message from Tony. So he stripped and wiped off the sweat with a washcloth and then dressed in his clothes from earlier. By the time he was back in the dining room, people were lounging in their chairs, Jan slumped against Hank, Luke holding Jess close, Peter hanging from the ceiling languidly.
"Good job today, everyone," he said as he sank into his chair. "You all did well."
Carol just groaned. "Why are bad guys so stupid?"
He chuckled.
"Because they have little else to do with their minds and talents," Natasha commented
"Dinner is served," Jarvis proclaimed as he coasted in and deposited plates on the table again. "Be careful. They're hot."
They dug in again and when all were sated, with seconds provided by Jarvis, Peter suggested movie night.
"What did you have in mind? Because if you want to watch another one of those stupid teen movies—"
Peter cut Clint off. "Hey! It was 'Not Another Teen Movie,' and it was funny. It's a parody." He sniffed.
Clint snorted. "Taste like the kid you are."
"Alright, alright," Steve said, standing. "Let's get the plates into the kitchen, and then we can go choose. I'm sure Tony's got something that we haven't seen."
"His collection is rather extensive..." Jan said.
"I am sure Master Stark would not mind you browsing his collection at all," Jarvis assured.
"Woohoo!" Clint vaulted over the back of his chair and was out of the room in seconds. "Dibs on movie choices!"
"Hey hey hey! I don't think so!" Peter was swinging out of the room after him.
"I predict this will be a disaster," Steve said. He helped Carol, Luke, Jan, and Jess clear the table. Then joined the rest of them into the family room after grabbing and checking his phone, just in time to hear Peter whine, "I just saw Blade Runner! I'm not watching it again!"
"And I'm sick of Die Hard!" Clint exploded, throwing up his hands.
"What about the Matrix?" Natasha suggested.
"Really?" Luke groaned. "Not the fucking Matrix. Sick of that shit."
"Monty Python!" Peter suggested.
"Peter, the only one who likes that movie is you," Carol laughed. "No, what about Jaws?"
"I don't like sharks, and Dani's in the house," Jess said, relaxing into the couch.
"What about the Shawshank Redemption? Someone recommended that to me," Steve suggested, taking his usual spot.
"Better than Schindler's List. Geeze, that was depressing," Natasha drawled.
"I'm okay with that. Haven't seen it in years," Peter said, jumping to the wall.
"Good," Steve said. "Clint? Carol?" There was a smattered chorus of 'fines' and 'sures.' So Clint dug it out of Tony's collection and they popped it in the player.
"Popcorn?" Jarvis called from the doorway.
"I'm fine." Steve said, smiling over his shoulder. "Come and join us, Jarvis."
The lights dimmed as Jarvis passed and then sat in the chair Tony usually occupied. He gave Steve a small smile which Steve returned.
After the DVD was returned to its case and back in its proper place (Tony would whine otherwise), Steve made his way to his room and went about his business. Checking his phone. Brushing his teeth. Washing his face. Turning down his sheets. Drawing the blinds. Checking his phone. The unease from earlier remained. He wasn't tired yet either. So he pulled out his drawing pad and the stub of a pencil and doodled a while he waited to be tired. Eventually, the clock hands had ticked around enough times that Steve could overlook his unease and tuck himself beneath the sheets, flick off the light, check his phone once more, sigh, and then roll over to fall asleep.
Tony was falling. Falling away from Steve. But he was in the armour. So he should be fine. He could use the jet boots. He tumbled head-over-heels and then Steve saw. Tony didn't have the boots on. They were missing. They were gone. Tony wasn't wearing the boots. And Steve was on a balcony with no way down to catch him. Steve shouted for him. Yelled for Tony again.
Steve started, inhaling sharply as he was quite very suddenly awake. This was not good. He groaned as he looked at the clock. 4:16. It was way too early for this. Steve sighed and rolled out of bed. He wasn't going to be sleeping again. Grabbing a novel off his dresser, he stopped off at the kitchens for a glass of milk before planting himself in the living room for a very early morning.
Shortly after the mantle clock chimed 5:30, Jarvis came through and opened the blinds.
"Couldn't sleep, Captain Rogers?"
"Jarvis." He half-started, jerking on his elbow. "Good morning."
"Need anything, Sir?"
"No. No, Jarvis. I'm fine." He smiled tiredly and waved him on.
"Very good, Sir. I'll just begin breakfast?"
"Thank you, Jarvis." Steve smiled and leaned back into the sofa, head resting on his fist. And if he dozed off...? Well, who was going to blame him?