The next morning, I was sitting on the kitchen counter, drinking a breakfast drink I had made myself while Steve read the paper at the coffee table with Bruce, Clint was on the couch talking with Natasha, Bucky and Sam were outside practicing his fighting skills, and the Asgardians had yet to return. When Tony stumbled into the room, Bruce and I looked up immediately. Tony winced at the sunlight shining through the window and walked over to the kitchen. "Hi, Tony," I greeted softly. He grunted, rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. I glanced at Bruce anxiously and he shook his head, sipping his coffee. Tony was becoming more and more agitated in his search, and he looked down under the sink before standing and leaning on the counter, staring at me coldly.

"Ellie," he said softly, with a slight bite in his tone. "I know that certain… things happened last night, but I do not recall giving you permission to do away with my liquor." Tony wanted to appear calm, but his eyes betrayed him; as did his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter and the slight tremor in his arms. I leant towards him, hoping to avoid drawing the attention of the others with our conversation.
"No; what you did say, however, was that I mustn't let you do this." I put my hand on his arm, squeezing imploringly. "Don't go back now; you already know where this will lead." Tony sighed, leaning in closer to whisper in my ear.
"Who have you told?" he breathed.
"Only Bruce," I replied softly.

"What are you two whispering over there?" Natasha asked, drawing everyone's attention to us.
"Sweet nothings," I responded immediately with a mischievous smirk. Steve choked on his coffee and I giggled as the attention was once again transferred.
"Are you protecting me?" Tony murmured.
"I will always protect you, Tony," I responded, equally quiet. "As much as I can. But even I cannot protect you from yourself." I looked at Tony meaningfully and he broke, walking around the counter to stand before me so he could wrap me up in a rough hug, clinging to me and pushing my head into his throat, resting his cheek on top of it and swaying the both of us gently.

"Okay, something's going on here," Clint said. "We all know Ellie doesn't like hugs, and you're not her type, so what's the deal? Stark?" Tony sighed heavily into my hair as my hands pressed against his chest under my chin.
"Pepper's getting married," Tony announced softly without letting me go. There was a chorus of sympathy and Tony tilted his head forward, burying his face further into my hair, clenching his fist in my curls against my neck.
"You're not going to tell them the rest?" I whispered. Tony shook his head, kissing the top of mine briefly.
"They'd only worry. It would get in the way," he breathed, pulling my hair so I tilted my head back and kissing my forehead. "And I love you too, Ellie."

I smiled as he slipped my head under his chin again. "I thought you were asleep," I mumbled. Tony huffed a laugh, rocking me again.
"Not quite, Kid."
"You know I don't love you romantically…"
"Of course," Tony interrupted easily. "You've always made your assessment of my character quite clear; I would never assume that you thought I was desirable. But it's still nice to know that you do love me."
"I have to," I replied, sliding my hands up Tony's chest to cup his neck, rubbing softly. "You're one of my boys." Tony laughed again, arms encircling my waist.
"I like the sound of that…"

That night, I was tucked up in bed when there was a light knock on the door. I sighed, sitting up. "It's not locked," I called out. The door opened a crack and Steve looked in cautiously. "Cap," I greeted, rather surprised. "What can I help you with?" I asked gently.
"Can we talk?" he asked, opening the door a little wider. I nodded, patting the end of the bed.
"Sit down," I invited. I really expected him to deny the request, given his reserve, which is why I was quite shocked and concerned when he shut the door behind himself and sat at my feet. "Something's wrong," I remarked, watching him closely. He stared down at his folded hands, shifting unhappily, before he spoke.
"I saw Peggy," he blurted. I remained silent until he looked up at me with tearful, piercing eyes. I sighed, scratching my scalp a little and pushing my hair back.

"Okay, Steven. What's on your mind," I asked resignedly.
"You lied to me," he murmured, evidently hurt by the fact. "Why would you do that? Why did you tell me she was dead?"
"Because she told me to," I stated plainly. Steve blinked, releasing a tear, and furrowed his brow in confusion. "I had already joined Shield when Auntie Peg was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. When she found out, she contacted all the directors and told them that if you ever did turn up again, they would tell you that she had died if you asked. And she told me that if I ever met you, to tell you that she always loved you, and missed you, and that she was happy. I promised I would, and I'm not going to apologise for it, Captain." Steve nodded, looking down again.
"I understand… It was so hard seeing her like that," he whimpered. Suddenly, his fortitude cracked and he crumbled, burying his face in his hands as quiet sobs shook his muscly frame.

"Ohh," I crooned, leaning forward and taking hold of his shoulders. "Oh, Steve," I hummed, tugging gently. He responded, turning to me and wrapping me up in his big arms, resting his forehead on my lap. I started rubbing his back and stroking his hair soothingly. "Oh, my poor, brave soldier, I know. I know, Sweetie."
"You… you probably think I'm so weak now," Steve choked.
"Absolutely not," I stated firmly, tapping him on the shoulder for emphasis. "I don't think you're weak, Sweetie. I think you're a person. You don't need to be Captain America for me, Steve. I love plain old Steven Rogers, the same way I love Anthony Stark and Clinton Barton, Bruce Banner, Natalia Romanova, Thor Odinson… I admire the Avengers, but I love the people."

Steve looked up, giving me a shaky smile. "Yeah. We love you, too," he told me. I smiled, leaning down to plant a warm kiss on his forehead.
"I know," I whispered, resting my cheek against his head for a moment. I sat up again and smiled a little, rubbing calming circles into Steve's back, kneading out a knot here and there until his breathing evened out and he started snoring lightly; just enough to be cute, not enough to be annoying. When that happened, I grabbed my second pillow and carefully placed his head on it, moving to take off his shoes and put his feet up on the bed before covering him with a spare blanket and getting back under my own covers, drifting off to sleep with a world-renowned hero sleeping on my feet.