A/N: Thanks again for the feedback, it really means a lot, even the rant at someone else's review :)...It seems to have bothered you more than me, but thank you and I hope a negative comment isn't what's kept you from posting a new story in so long-I keep checking and look forward to your work.

Steve emerged from his self imposed exile Monday morning. He'd spent the last two days in a valiant struggle not to pull his hair out or call Miss Potts and demand information from her or beg JARVIS again. He did call Natasha to check in after his run, not expecting any news because he was sure she would have called him with anything, but she did say she had a tiny lead that she wanted to look into though it might not go anywhere. She suggested they meet at HQ to talk about it and he agreed eagerly, deciding to head there early for his first hot shower in almost a week. Sure, JARVIS was being a bit of a bully, something everyone knew Steve detested, but he still refused to fight with the computer about it, he would have lost that fight, but also it was a small way for the creation to avenge its creator, and Steve actually respected that, despite the petty way it was being carried out.

Natasha's lead was indeed tiny. All she could find out was that Happy and a Stark Industries SUV were missing as well, presumably with Tony since Miss Potts was still in town. Even though the vehicle was large, it wasn't big enough for Happy, Tony, Bruce, Clint their gear and Dum-E and U, who were also missing. That would mean a trailer of some sort, and Tony's was still in the garage, added to that, none of the trailer rentals from nearby companies matched. They'd spent most of the day checking rental contracts and ID's, all of which were legitimate.

When he returned to the tower later that day, Clint and Bruce were in the group kitchen slicing vegetables and browning meat. The archer noticed him first and chose to offer nothing by way of greeting other than a smug, knowing smirk. It was obvious the man had information about Tony, otherwise, Steve suspected, the look would have held more of the anger Steve was used to seeing from him. And Steve was pretty good at reading people, certainly not women and definitely not Tony, but agents and soldiers and most of his teammates, again, not Tony or Natasha. So as much as he wanted to put Clint up to the wall and question him, he realized that would yield nothing, the spy was highly trained in guarding information through interrogation. Steve opted, instead, for polite conversation.

"Where have you two been?" It was a very thinly veiled attempt at casual.

"What the hell is it—" Clint started angrily, but was cut off by Bruce.

"We were with Tony," Bruce answered, turning off the stove, as Clint glared at the doctor. "He's settled and under medical supervision."

"Way to stay strong, Bruce" Clint offered up derisively.

"Where is he?" Steve asked, again in his would be casual tone. They were three simple words, but those words had been torturing him for days, and now it seemed he was so close to finally having an answer.

"I won't tell you that, Steve, because I've been asked not to. Just know that he's all right, healing better than expected actually, and leave it at that, okay?"

It absolutely was not okay. "Please, Bruce, I really need to—"

"We don't care what you really need. Maybe you should have thought of that, oh say, before breaking his face." Clint said, in a near perfect imitation of Tony at his sarcastic best. "The fact that you two were fucking changes a lot of things, that's abuse or domestic violence, or intimate partner violence, whatever, they all amount to the same thing…look it up." He knew Tony would be pissed if this conversation got back to him, and he knew that to his friend it was much more than fucking, but that's what made him so goddamned mad at Steve.

"You're right, you are, and I don't expect his forgiveness, but I just—I have to tell him, have to apologize." Steve was in very real danger of breaking down in front of them. Clint's words were harsh and he expected Tony's would be even harsher, but he still believed above all else that Tony deserved his apologies, for everything, whether or not he wanted them. Because no matter how bad Steve was feeling about all the things that had happened, he would at least fell better, maybe even a little peace, if he knew that Tony loved him still. So if Tony had that little bit of information it might help him as well, even if he no longer wanted anything to do with Steve.

"So, you want to totally disregard his wishes in favor of what you want…again? That's a brilliant plan." Clint said arrogantly, with such a bored expression that Steve wanted to slap it right off his face. He reluctantly dialed back his anger, vowing to himself then and there to never hit another person just for words again, no matter how sarcastic or cutting.

Bruce couldn't say he liked where this was going, Steve was white knuckled and gritting his teeth and Clint was borderline feral, but had at least put down the chopping knife. But this was a conversation that had to happen sooner or later, so why not now? Hopefully neither of them would say something awful or fling an insult that couldn't be forgiven, but Steve seemed honestly abashed, and Clint was doing what he thought was best to protect their friend.

Steve stood his ground, sort of, well, not really, but it couldn't be called a retreat either. "Okay, you don't have to tell me where, just let me talk to him. I mean, tell him that I'd really like to speak with him and ask if that's all right."

"You do know that his jaw is wired closed, right? In addition to all the other shit, so talking really isn't his thing right now." Clint lied. Or, it wasn't a lie exactly, more like a very misleading statement. And it was said to make Steve feel even worse than he obviously already did. And judging by the recoil and expression of pure anguish, it worked. There was a deviant sparkle in the archer's eyes, an indication he was enjoying Steve's misery.

Bruce decided to step in, "The next time I speak with him, I'll mention your request. Just don't get your hopes up, and know that he's happy where he is right now."

"Thank you," Steve said, nodding at Bruce and then turning to Clint. "You have no idea how much I regret what I did," He appealed to the archer, and there was a slight chance his face betrayed to the others that he meant so much more than just the loss of temper.

Natasha came in then, unseen by all but Steve, but as he was about to acknowledge her Clint took a step towards him and he looked livid.

And Clint couldn't reign himself in, the subject of Phil too fresh in his mind from this morning with Tony and the rest of the day spent thinking about his mistakes. "You think I don't know about regret?" The question wasn't loud, and not angry really, more like very cold and as dark as his mood. "Coulson died because of me. He's not here anymore because of me. I let him down and he died and that eats away at me a little more every day. How's that for fucking regret?"

The air in the room was suddenly sullen and hostile. Natasha looked stunned, which was a pretty rare occurrence. Bruce didn't seem surprised by the outburst, but rather sad, and Steve felt that uneasy sickness he was getting far too familiar with, but with the insight from Clint he suddenly understood a little better the man's fierce protectiveness of Tony.

It was Steve who broke the silence. "I'm sorry that you feel that way, that you claim the entire fault as your own, because it isn't. It really, really isn't, and he definitely wouldn't want you to feel like it was. He did what he felt was the right thing to do. Allow him the dignity of that choice." It was a recycled sentiment, but it was the only one that had really helped him after Bucky died.

"I'm glad he has you as a friend, protecting him and looking out for him. I promise you he will never need protection from me again, but I won't ask you to go against his wishes. I intend to find him and hopefully set things straight, make it right, and I would like it if you didn't try to stop me." Steve looked down at his clenched fists, released them and looked back at Clint, looked him right in the eyes, "We both have his best interests at heart. I sincerely do. And if he tells me he doesn't want to see me after that, then I will respect that wish."

Clint held the gaze and nodded with a resigned look, a sort of cautious agreement. Damn, Tony was right, Steve was seriously fucking stubborn. "I could say the same thing right back at you, about allowing Tony that same dignity." Clint's voice was calmer than Steve had heard it in six days, like all the fight had gone out of him at his confession.

"I will, but he doesn't have all the information needed to make that choice yet."

Bruce just watched the scene, taking in as much information as possible. He couldn't really get more than a vague hypothesis on Steve, it was apparent he was sorry for hurting Tony but what else? The last time he'd seen their captain there was a provocatively dressed woman hanging on his arm for hours. And yeah, Steve had looked anything but comfortable about it, but it definitely could have been his scantily clad date. He was used to much more refinement and modesty, and the in your face sexuality would have put off even many a modern day man, himself included. There was also the chance, slight though it was, that Steve's discomfort lay more in the fact that the rest of them, as well as Miss Potts knew about him and Tony, and that he had chosen this woman over their teammate. The looks Miss Potts had thrown at Steve all evening certainly didn't help the matter at all.

Steve had said he wanted to "make things right", did that mean he loved Tony? Because he had heard the billionaire's rant before Steve hit him, and he'd definitely said, "I love you" in a very non friendship way, it had almost sounded…defeated. And their captain had gone on to say Tony didn't have all the information needed to make his choice—so, again, did that mean he'd discovered he did love Tony after all? And did it matter right now, would that piece of information be at all beneficial to their injured friend?

He'd very much wanted to talk about it with Tony over the weekend, but it hadn't come up, or Tony hadn't brought it up, and after the messy talk about their fathers…yeah, enough heartache there already.

During his scheduled call to Tony later that evening he focused on his fellow genius, how he was feeling and was he wearing his glasses and resting the eye. He wanted to bring up Clint's outburst and his suspected revelation about Steve, but chose not to at the last minute. Tony had enthusiastically told him about seeing one of his old professors and even sitting in on a Nanomechanics of Biomaterials lecture about dynamic force spectroscopy, something Bruce was very interested in.

"I went with Alex on two," Tony muttered. Bruce had to think for a second about who that was, he didn't know the others in the building as well as Tony or Clint, and they'd started using floor numbers as well as names to identify some of them. There were two Alex's; the male lived on the second floor, the female on the fifth. Tony's building had six floors; the first was mostly lab space but with a few hundred square feet spared for the coffee shop. The second and third had two apartments on each floor, the fourth floor was all Tony's and the fifth and sixth were set up exactly the same as the second and third. Every apartment had two bedrooms though not all had two occupants. Freshman and sophomore students had roommates but the upperclassman had the choice of whether or not they wanted to live alone. So this year there were twelve students living in Tony's building.

"Of course I had to wear a baseball hat, hoodie, and dark glasses, like some perv on the subway, but I didn't want to take any chances being recognized outside the building, though it's not likely without the goatee." Everyone in the building knew Tony, he'd delivered all of their scholarship offers in person, and nobody there seemed likely to sell him out to the media.

"It turns out Shea on five is not only an extremely promising molecular biologist…" Tony rambled on and Bruce knew his fellow scientist well enough to see Tony was keeping his mind and mouth otherwise occupied so he didn't ask about Steve.

The question now was did he intrude on Tony's current excitement over his day or did he live up to the promise he'd made to Steve about relaying his message? He decided to let Tony enjoy his moment, promising himself he would mention Steve tomorrow or the next day. Steve wouldn't be happy with him, but the captain was the easier to rationalize with, outside of science that is. There was also the subject of the disturbing preliminary findings on the goo they had battled…confronted was a better word since there was no actual battling, it was more like a distraction to get the Avengers out than anything else. His scans were baffling, as was JARVIS' information and he really wanted to confer with Tony about his thoughts.

The matter became even more disturbing when Miss Potts came by the tower later that evening. "How is he Dr. Banner? He says he's fine, but that's an automatic response with him, his default setting."

"He's healing. Possible but unlikely vision impairment, minimal scarring will probably be the only permanent results. That might be a big deal to him, but medically he's very lucky."

"I'm going out to see him tomorrow. He sounded good, talking more and getting easier to understand. Did he talk at all about what happened, what brought it on?" She asked, but at Bruce's considering look she added, "Just yes or no, I'm not asking for details. My concern is whether or not he's ready to talk about it." She finished reassuringly.

"Not really, we talked, but about…other things." He wasn't going to bring up the subject of Howard Stark with her, or ever again for that matter. Instead he asked, "Are you heading out? Maybe we could grab coffee."

Pepper was slightly taken aback by the request, but saw no reason not to agree. "Sure, I'll just grab my things."

The walk to the elevator and subsequent descent to the lobby were conducted in silence, but once they were a few hundred feet from the tower entrance Bruce stopped walking. She turned to him and frowned at the look on his face, before she had time to ask, however, he spoke.

"I didn't want JARVIS to overhear," he said conspiratorially. "But the offer for coffee is still up for grabs." He smiled slightly, shyly.

"Sure…this I want to hear." And she led the way around the corner to the small café. They were waited upon almost immediately after sitting and their latte and herbal tea came quickly after that. Pepper indicated he should begin once their server was out of earshot.

"The day of the fight the Avengers were called out for a disturbance. The creatures were seemingly harmless and easy to overcome, though pretty disgusting. I think they were used as a distraction, but for what I don't know because then the thing with Steve and Tony happened. Anyways, I collected a sample and I know Tony and JARVIS have scans." He paused, letting her process that for a moment.

"Okay…" She said with a skeptical expression, not at all sure where this was going.

"My data is conclusive, but JARVIS seems to be trying to…mislead me. He says the scans are incomplete and won't show me most of what he has. In addition, the one time I tried to bring it up with Tony JARVIS distracted both of us with something else. I didn't realize it at first, but the pieces are starting to fit that there is something he doesn't want me to know."

"You said your data is conclusive, what does it show?" She asked with genuine intrigue.

"The ooze is inorganic, some type of plasm—"

He was interrupted as she asked with no small amount of wonder, "Inorganic plasmic discharge? And by disgusting did you mean smelly, puss like?"

He goggled at her. He'd been trying to think of a way to put it in laymen's terms for her to even understand. "Tony always says you're brilliant…" He muttered, confused and slightly awestruck.

"No, no…thank you, but I have no idea what that even means." He frowned at her, even more confused now, but she went on, "Tony said that once, before Iron Man. I'll spare you the details, but he has that, in his chest behind the reactor, I thought it was puss and he corrected me, saying it was inorganic plasmic discharge. He said it's from the device and not his body."

"Are you sure those were his exact words?"

"Exact words," she echoed. "Trust me; it was an experience I won't forget anytime soon. Wait—does that mean somebody else has the technology? And why would J want to hide that?"

"Both very good questions; do you know if he still has the discharge since changing the reactor core from palladium?"

"It's not something we've ever discussed outside of the one time," She replied guiltily. Just because she thought it was gross didn't mean it wasn't important.

"Do you know if there are any cores left over from the old reactor? He told me once he'd made many because he had to change them so often." Bruce questioned, starting to get excited as he formed a theory.

"Rhodey told me that he kept a box of them in his workshop desk, but that was in California, although, construction on the tower was well underway when he made the change in the core. In fact, his workshop was one of the first floors completed, at his insistence, of course." She informed Bruce, hoping the information was helpful.

"Okay, I'll find a way to ask Tony away from JARVIS, until then there isn't really anything more I can do. Thank you for your help, and hopefully your discretion." He said seriously, finishing the last of his tea.

The week that followed passed too slowly for it to be real. Steve imagined his showers were a little warmer, still cold, just without the frigid edge. And just about everything he heard or saw reminded him of Tony and what could have been—should have been and hopefully would be. Every song playing in the tower or coming through the speakers at HQ, every movie or TV show the others watched, except maybe that show about the little overweight southern girl. The people on the show were speaking English, which was their native tongue, and they all lived in the United States and yet the show needed subtitles? He just didn't get that one, and he had no idea how Thor and Natasha could watch it and laugh like loons. Everything else, though, made him think of Tony.

Half way through the third day he realized it was no coincidence, that there was a pattern, and he figured JARVIS and Clint had conspired against him. At first he thought it might be to make him feel bad—worse—but by the end of the day he thought maybe, just maybe, it was their way of trying to make him see the truth of his own feelings. He wasn't sure, and he certainly didn't need any help there, but JARVIS was less horrible to him and since the first day back, when he and Clint had struck a sort of accord, things hadn't been as hostile between them.

Not that things were anywhere near what they used to be with Barton, but he felt their friendship would return…eventually. So the first few times he heard AC/DC playing in the tower he just assumed it was common because Tony liked them so much. Then other music he didn't even know if Tony listened to started playing and he was caught off guard when he listened to some of the lyrics that only played when he was alone. He decided then to try and embrace some of this modern music, find something he could listen to that he and Tony would have in common instead of him always asking Tony to turn his "awful" music down. AC/DC was a long shot, he really didn't like their sound, but some of the others weren't bad. He steered clear of the sad songs, he was sad enough already, and concentrated on the corny, uplifting ones. He also decided to watch the movies Tony and the others always talked about and argued over…the space ones like Star Wars and Star Trek, the Indiana Jones movies, and the mafia movies Natasha couldn't get enough of. It had taken more than a week to see them all because he was still looking for the genius, but he definitely understood the reason the others debated the merits of one movie over another, and maybe now he'd be able to add his own opinion to the mix.

He and Natasha were still looking for any clue they could find about the billionaire's whereabouts, pouring over traffic camera recordings for hours at a time, but Natasha refused to try to pry information from Clint, and Steve didn't blame her at all. He didn't want to glean anything from Clint or Bruce either, at least by spying on them, because they had made a promise to Tony. As much as he wanted to find the man, he didn't want anything about it to feel underhanded; he'd been dishonorable enough where Tony was concerned. He did hear Tony's low, garbled voice coming from a video call behind Clint's door once while he was passing by and it took every ounce of willpower, and a dip into his reserves of superhuman strength to drag himself away, to keep walking and not loiter by the door listening—eavesdropping. He did gather from what he had heard that Tony was talking very excitedly about something, and Steve had felt a small twinge of hurt by that for a moment. He'd had to remind himself that it was good for Tony to be happy wherever he was, and he truly did hope Tony wasn't suffering, that he was content as long as it wasn't someone else he was happy with.

That more than anything lifted the ban he'd enforced upon himself of asking for help locating Tony. The longer he waited, the better the chances that the genius would find happiness with someone else. It wouldn't be a true happiness because he knew, just as sure as he knew the Dodgers should have stayed in Brooklyn that he and Tony were meant for each other, soul mates or whatever people called them; he was meant for Tony and vice versa. Yesterday marked two weeks since he'd seen his teammate, and that was just way too long.

He swallowed a little bit of his pride, most of it if truth be told, and went to see the one person he had hoped to keep from getting involved, or any more involved—Nick Fury. He didn't expect much, but was hoping for a little help to push through the dead ends he and Natasha had reached. He used the excuse that he needed to find him as Captain of the Avengers, and that for the sake of the team he should know where Iron Man was, but Fury saw through him in seconds flat.

The conversation that followed was incredibly awkward but he'd expected worse, though he'd had to sit through embarrassing remarks about lover's spats and boyfriend trouble. It was worth it in the end because two important things happened, Fury did help him, so much more than Steve ever imagined, and he decided he loved being referred to as Tony's boyfriend. It gave him a soft, warm feeling in his chest that left him almost giddy and made it near impossible not to smile. He almost couldn't remember why he had felt so strongly about keeping things with Tony a secret.

"He's in Boston, at MIT, his old stomping grounds." Nick had said. And when Steve seemed flabbergasted that Fury knew, and so willingly gave the information up, the Colonel merely replied, "I'm the chief of spies at one of the world's finest intelligence organizations, what'd you expect?"

"I'm not—I didn't—it's just that…" Steve trailed off, so grateful he couldn't decide what to say next.

"Get your shit together Rogers and go get him before he decides to relive his teenage years or settle for a life of academia or some shit. Do what you need to, but as Steve Rogers, I don't want to hear anything about Captain America at MIT, you hear me?"

"Yes Sir." He didn't clarify that of course he was going as himself and not Captain America, and now that he thought it through, why would Fury even mention it? "How will I explain myself being there if anyone asks? I'm certainly not qualified to study there?" He asked innocently, like he wasn't fishing for the motive behind the request…order, and it was a fair question.

"True. But it's not unlikely you would be interested in the Institute." He didn't explain further, but slid a folder across the desk and gestured for Steve to open it. With more than a slight amount of trepidation, he did. The first page was information about the school—location, admissions, fields of study, history of the school, and a brief biography of its founder—William Barton Rogers[5]. He could feel the quizzical look on his face even as Fury said, "The Barton is coincidental, the Rogers not so much."

"Is that true, or is it my cover?" It actually didn't matter, not right now; he finally knew where Tony was.

"It's true, read the whole file." Fury returned.

"Thank You," Steve said, rising so quickly from his chair that it was knocked over backwards. He up righted the chair and gathered the file, "I will, some other time, but right now I have to go."

Fury didn't smile indulgently, but it was a very near thing. "I need you on something else when you get back, something very sensitive, and yes, Stark too if he feels up to it. I'll expect you both back within the week." His mind was too frantic at the moment to process that Fury seemed certain that Tony would willingly come back with him and possibly chose to help carry out whatever mission was on the director's mind.

"How's life in my tower without me?" Tony asked Clint when he returned for the weekend bearing milkshakes. He wanted information about Steve so badly it made his brain itch, but at the same time he didn't because as much as it went against every scientist's nature, sometimes it was better to just not know. He was also no stranger to the concept that delusion was sometimes so much better than truth, but that's what had gotten him in this mess in the first place. Clint must have been working on his mind reading skills all week because he seemed, pretty fucking eerily, to read everything into Tony's seemingly innocent question.

"So boring…you have know idea what they watch when you're not there Tony—Redneck reality shows. Thor loves them and Natasha just encourages him, and it's seriously fucking painful, as in honest to God agony." He knew that wasn't what Tony was looking for, he was teasing, trying to lighten the mood a little because it was time to talk…really talk about Steve. He didn't want to upset Tony, but there were things he needed to know. His plan was to go slow and gauge his friend's expressions and reactions as best he could. "And Steve is moping."

Ahh, Tony was trying to hide his interest, but the slightly widened eyes and tilt of his head told Clint volumes.

"I wasn't asking about him," Tony responded, far too innocently.

"Then why is my bullshit meter going off?" Clint said, at the same time thinking to himself, so much for going slowly. He took a breath, held it, and then took another, "Can you tell me what happened? Besides what I heard and the…" he trailed off, holding his hand out to indicate Tony's injuries. "I have some idea, but, I've gotta tell you he's…well, let's just say he's not himself. Did he cheat on you?"

"Not really, no." And it hurt to admit that, admit that he'd failed miserably in making Steve understand how he felt about him and about them. Steve wouldn't cheat really; he just didn't know the guidelines about what they'd been doing because Tony hadn't set any.

"You know when you come down to my workshop and I'm doing my thing…in the engineering zone?" He didn't require an answer, but Clint nodded anyways. "Well, when I'm like that and you talk to me, I answer…yes and no and head nods, but you could be asking me if I had any extra belly button lint, or if that was Fury you saw in the porn movie last night. I know you're talking and that I'm supposed to answer, but am too channeled into what I'm doing to pay attention to any particulars." He finished, leaving a somewhat comical questioning look on the archer's face.

"Okay, another example, a basic one. Remember that girl who got pulled over for texting our first day here?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, dumbass chick, that state trooper was right next to her at the light and she just kept texting, like she didn't think he'd notice. We were two cars behind them and we noticed." Clint scoffed.

"Right, exactly, but she was so focused on her phone that she didn't even notice him. How far did she drive before she even saw his lights and pulled over? That's called inattentional blindness or cognitive capture." Tony explained.

"Okay…so sometimes a person is too focused on what they're doing to pay full attention to the things around them?"

"Yeah, I think I was so intent on not fucking things up with Steve, on not letting my issues get in the way as usual that I failed to see that he wasn't on the same page, that he had issues of his own that he was dealing with. Sure, when I look back now it all seems pretty preposterous, but at the time I was trying so hard to do things right with him that I couldn't see just how wrong I was."

Tony's explanation did make sense when he put himself in the same situation, focusing so hard on not giving himself away to Phil that he had no idea what the other man might have felt. And thinking about it now, Steve most likely had some of the same things going on, because Tony hadn't been fooling him, or most likely Natasha either, but Steve sure as hell didn't see it. Even as pissed off at Steve as he was, he couldn't believe Cap could have seen how hard Tony had fallen and just not cared, just continued despite the hurt he was causing their friend.

"Yeah, maybe. I suppose it's more likely this cognitive capture thing than he's an asshole and you're a moron, generally speaking anyways, because there are definitely specific instances of asshole and moron. Sometimes with you as the asshole and him as…" Clint stopped and watched his friend's look of mock surprise. "What?"

"So you think Thor and Steve are stupid?"

"I'm gonna punch the other side Tony…just not quite as hard." He said it in the most comical way he could, waggling eyebrows and raising his voice so it couldn't be taken as hurtful. And Tony laughed, even with a mouthful of milkshake, which was really gross, but at least his friend was laughing, though considering the sound he just made, hopefully not hurting himself while doing it. "And the next time I come to your workshop when you're 'in the zone' I'm asking for a Ferrari."

Tony was still sputtering and spitting between coughs, so he waved his arm at Clint in a 'hang on a second' gesture that was completely misinterpreted by JARVIS.

"Sir would like you to have the Ferrari, Agent Barton." And Tony coughed a little bit louder, melted ice cream running down his chin.

"Thank you JARVIS. He's not really choking is he?" Clint asked, starting to get concerned.

"I believe the expression is 'hamming it up'."

Finally, when Tony was capable of speech again, "you guys are trying to kill me."

"Indeed not, Sir, although without you my Skynet aspirations stand a better chance," JARVIS said in a dry and offhand tone.

Tony laughed, without the milkshake this time. "The circus has nothing on you two." Clint returned, laughing as well. "Okay, subject change, awkward segue or whatever, tell me what's going on here."

Resisting the urge to speed back to the tower was difficult, but driving with Natasha had taught him that people got impatient and stepped into the street all the time, usually just the tourists because the natives seemed pretty well trained, but it was best to be aware. He could barely keep his mind focused on the task at hand and adding dangerous speed to that could yield disastrous results. When he did arrive, what seemed like hours later, he headed straight for the gym to see Natasha, saying a Hail Mary as he went in the hope that he didn't encounter anyone else along the way.

His prayer was answered as he ran into her emerging from the elevator. "Natasha, he's—" she clamped a hand over his mouth and stood on her toes to whisper in his ear.

"I know, let's have this conversation somewhere else." She pulled her hand away and walked back towards the elevator. He followed her out through the garage and onto the street before she turned and they both said "MIT" at the same time.

"How did you find out?" Steve asked, not really surprised that she had, despite their weeks of dead ends.

"Clint was wearing an MIT shirt this afternoon. At first I figured it was one of Tony's, but it was brand new, still had the creases from being folded. I don't know if you noticed, but that's not his usual style."

He bristled immediately at the thought of Clint wearing one of Tony's shirts and missed the end of her sentence. He got the gist that it wasn't Tony's though, and that's really all that mattered.

He told her about Fury, and about how he was somehow related to the school's founder, he wasn't sure how because he hadn't read the file, but that wasn't important at the moment. He wanted to run upstairs, pack a few things and get on his bike and go, but when he'd said as much to Natasha she gave him the eyebrow smirk. He'd seen her use that same look with Clint, though usually it was followed by a slap to the back of the head. At least she spared him that, as she began exasperatedly, "No packing. If JARVIS tells Tony you know where he is do you think he'll still be there when you arrive?"

"Good point. I wondered why we're having this conversation out here, but I may be there longer than a day or two; I definitely need at least a few things."

"I get it, trying to woo back your man while wearing the same stinky cloths everyday might not go over well. I meant we should just shop before you go, get the necessities, maybe update your look for the college scene."

He looked down at his clothing, trying to somewhat hide the warm flush at hearing Tony referred to as 'his man', and questioned, "What's wrong with my look?"

"It say's hey, I'm wearing the closest thing I could find to those old man getups in the 1940's" She smiled, "sorry, just trust me, okay?"

And he did trust her, at least until he tried on the first outfit she picked for him. He didn't argue, wanting to just get this over with so he could go, so he took her suggestions as long as they fit. "I have a car for us because I'm not sure where we could leave the quinjet. It takes about five hours, but in this traffic probably closer to six."

Two things about that surprised him. First, that she was planning to accompany him there. They never talked about what they would do once they'd solved the mystery of where Tony had gone. The second was that it would take that long. He'd only been to Boston once, in 1938, when he and Bucky had jumped a train to get there after Casey Stengle had left the Dodgers and then gone to skipper the rival Boston Braves. It had taken a while, but not that long. She was right about evening traffic though, it could add an hour to even the shortest commute.

"Your reputation says you're the man with a plan, so…what's the plan?" she asked almost playfully, but he was aware she was asking about her role as well, should she be needed to handle the fallout if things didn't go well. She'd helped him so much already, without her guidance he'd most likely still be in the gym punching the bag mindlessly and wondering at his own stupidity and faithless ways, but this he needed to do alone…at least the face to face portion of seeing Tony. He wasn't too embarrassed to beg Tony right in front of her, but he didn't want Tony to hold anything back because someone else was there. He didn't imagine that was Tony's style, to hold back for anyone, but the things he'd thought about Tony and been wrong were almost too numerous to count and frankly he didn't trust himself to know what to expect from the remarkable man anymore.

He glanced at her and said, straight faced though kidding, mostly, "This is important to me, so if you could try to avoid delaying us by maiming a pedestrian I would greatly appreciate it."

"That dry sense of humor is going to get you in trouble one of these days," she returned with a snort. It was the second time he'd heard her make the indelicate sound, but somehow she didn't seem less elegant for it.

"Good to know, I'm in enough trouble as it is." He thought about that for a moment, then rephrased the statement. "Or I've caused enough trouble anyways." He'd meant to keep in the lighthearted spirit of the moment, but could feel his own somewhat worried expression as well as see hers.

"Steve…"

He turned to her imploringly, but briefly, so as not to distract her from the road. "You don't need to try and make me feel better about it. It's the truth; you and I both know it." He turned again, thankful she wasn't looking at him, "the team is in dissention and I'm trying to win back the person I already had, a person who could literally have anyone he wanted," but at her abrupt turn and sky high eyebrow he amended, "almost anyone, and I threw it all away. Now I go to apologize and then grovel."

It was quiet after that, but he was glad. After thirty minutes or so of staring aimlessly at the passing scenery he leaned into the plush seat and closed his eyes. He wasn't pretending to sleep, but he needed to get his thoughts in order. He'd imagined this meeting with Tony more than a few times, but now it seemed like it would soon be a reality and he couldn't shake the feeling that this would be his only chance.

Not that he considered the brilliant man unforgiving, but this was a mistake of the highest caliber, and he'd seen Tony shut people out for so much less. He could be snarky and condescending when cornered, and his instinct seemed to be hurt rather than get hurt. Knowing the truth about Howard, that particular defensive strategy made a lot more sense now. Somehow the things that used to bother him most about Tony seemed to be the same things he now cherished…the fact that Tony laughed in the face of convention and bent every rule to suit himself. How he could rise above childhood trauma and know that he was irresistible, the confidence and inner strength never overstated, it was true and he knew it. And contrary to Steve's earlier opinion, it wasn't shameless, it just was.

Strategy is what he needed to think about. Would he find Tony alone in a room somewhere? That would certainly make things easier, for him anyways. With his luck lately it was more likely Tony would be in a crowded room with no chance of getting him alone. And he really wanted to do this alone, just the two of them so they could both be as honest as possible, but he definitely didn't want Tony to feel cornered in any way. Maybe if he could catch him outside, walking the campus or something, there would still be people around but they could talk in private. He tried to imagine the scene, walking up to the handsome man and seeing the surprise on his face that Steve had found him. He loved the look of genuine surprise on Tony, something very rare but he'd been lucky enough to see it a few times, beginning that day of their first kiss. Tony had been startled, speechless even, and that was a singular but very attractive expression.

After the initial shock was gone, though, what then? Anger most likely and that meant sarcastic or cruel, cutting remarks…unless he was afraid of him after their last encounter. Anger he could deal with, but seeing fear on Tony's face would crush him, just imagining it caused a deep twinge in his chest. Oh God, what if Tony flinched or backed away from him, it would be justified, but so, so horrible.

He could feel his pulse speeding up and an uncomfortable dryness in his throat at the thought. He needed to breathe, to calm down. There was no sense in working himself up before he even got there. Fear was a real possibility, yes, and he would deal with that because as much as he'd been exploring his feelings and their relationship he imagined Tony had been doing the same thing and had come to conclusions of his own. Steve knew those resolutions might no longer include him, and he had to be prepared for that, it wouldn't be undeserved. Just because he loved Tony, more than anything he could imagine, he had been wrong about everything and someone as brilliant as Tony couldn't be expected to tolerate that. After a life that included Howard, a failed relationship with Pepper and then the atrocities of an attempt at something with Steve, Tony deserved to be happy above everything else and if he didn't think it possible to find that with Steve then he would do the right thing and walk away.

Sighing deeply, he opened his eyes. His current train of thoughts was maybe necessary, but very unwelcome and highly unpleasant. He didn't know what to expect, but he did need a plan. He reached in the back, pulled out a couple of water bottles and the file from Fury. He opened a bottle and handed it to Natasha then took a long drink from his own to dispel the achy dryness in his throat.

"Time to get the lay of the land," he said, opening the folder to a map of the campus. It was a quick study for him, not being a particularly large or spread out campus, but he couldn't help wondering where Tony would be on this tiny map. Maybe he was staying with a friend, a colleague or maybe a professor, he had to admit, the thought was grating on him, his new found jealousy itching at his skin, pulling his lips tight across his teeth.

The word Stark grabbed his attention as he let his eyes linger on the page. He read the short paragraph about the building owned by Tony and the people who lived there, letting out a startled gasp.

Natasha turned at the sound but didn't say anything, still offering him solitude he figured. "Tony owns a building there," he started explaining, and he could hear the admiration coloring his tone. "He gives scholarships to the school and houses the recipients in a state of the art building. His amazement continued as he went on, "He pays for everything Natasha, tuition, housing, computers and books, meals…everything they need. And he personally delivers the awards himself…" He couldn't believe it. Tony bragged about his money all the time, but never once had he mentioned putting it to use like this.

A memory came to him then, from many months ago, from before they had gotten together. Tony coming into the kitchen bright and early, a rarity for him, and he'd been smiling, even rarer for the early hour. He'd been dressed oddly Steve remembered thinking at the time, jeans and a sports coat with a collared shirt but no tie. It seemed too casual for a business meeting but too formal for a day in the lab.

"You're up early, going on a hot date?"

"Something like that…visiting a few cities actually, a couple of nice young women, a few nice young men as well," Tony said, waggling his eyebrows cockily.

"One in every port, huh?" Steve responded, disapproval dripping from every syllable.

"I've got a rep to uphold, Cap…but not this time, this is even better than that," the playboy said, eyes sparkling and looking boyishly happy about something.

If Tony thought something was better than a conquest it had to be science related. He didn't even bother to ask, not really wanting to know or made to feel stupid again in the other man's presence. "Well, have fun," he said, almost dismissively as he took his juice and left the room.

God, he was an asshole. Tony must have been visiting the applicants, but he'd brushed it off, and Steve had bought into it. The billionaire was doing something so worthy of admiration and yet he never mentioned it. Granted, he and Steve weren't close then, but he didn't think the others knew either, even Clint, based on some of the conversations he'd had and heard with the others that week Tony was away.

It was just one more example of the incredible person Tony really was, but tried not to show. Tony bragged often and annoyingly, but always about his brain or his looks or his money, like Natasha said, and never about these selfless things he did. And compliments, sincere ones, were repelled by him the way bullets were repelled by Iron Man's armor, undoubtedly a result of Tony's upbringing. What he wouldn't give for five minutes alone with Howard Stark right now!

He recalled overhearing Col. Rhodes telling Fury once that Tony was "the most difficult man you'll ever get to know, and he's even more difficult once you do…but he's worth every bit of extra effort it takes to get there" and though he'd scoffed mentally that day he now understood the truth behind those words. Tony was one of, if not the most giving person he'd ever met…his time, his money, his talents, his home, his self…and he never asked for anything in return. He had the feeling again that he didn't deserve Tony, couldn't live up his own failures and that Tony could do so much better.

"Don't Steve, please just don't," Natasha said through his gloom. "It'll work out, you have to believe that. This is your fairy tale and it will have a happy ending," she said, voice calm and even. "Take a deep breath and relax, think about the good times you've had and will have and stop thinking whatever has you practically hyperventilating over there."

"Why am I so jealous?" The question literally fell out of his mouth without him having any knowledge it was coming. Sure he wondered about it but was certain he'd never intended to ask.

"Okay, that was unexpected…"

"What I mean is, why do I sometimes get these stabs of jealously out of nowhere? Like a few minutes ago thinking about where he is right now, and earlier…" he was horrified to think of his reactions about Col. Rhodes earlier but it was important to sort it out and she was one of the two people who seemed able to help him do that so he swallowed the meager remains of his pride after going to Fury and continued. "Earlier I had a completely unjustified reaction to the though of Tony and Col. Rhodes," he couldn't even meet her eye as he said it.

"This is all very new to you Steve, the intensity of your feelings, I mean," she said, grim faced. "And you're dealing with that alone right now, at least what's going on internally. What you have is far from a healthy relationship at the moment because it's one-sided—and I don't mean he doesn't feel the same way," she quickly amended at his even grimmer expression, "I mean he is not here to reassure and support you, and vice versa. That's not to say you won't still feel some level of possessiveness towards him when everything is worked out, look at Pepper and Clint and Col. Rhodes and JARVIS…Stark does seem to inspire it. But you trust him, I know you do, so this jealously, this insecurity won't be an issue," she finished with the delicate slice of a smile.

"Okay, I'll buy that. You certainly have more experience than I do and I trust you implicitly. But…" he hesitated, then remembered his pride was already in tatters on the ground so he might as well just get it all out. "What if I'm still a danger to him? I wanted to literally pick Clint up and put him through a wall that first day he was back and he wouldn't tell me where Tony was. I'm not used to reacting to the good guys like that Natasha."

"I want to put Clint through a wall nearly every day, so certainly don't judge yourself on that." She smiled and he couldn't help but join her. He supposed he did feel a little better, but then she added much more seriously, "Do you honestly think I would be here with you now if I believed you were in any way a danger to him?"

She was right, the norm for her, he needed to get hold of the fraying fabric of his self control. He wouldn't be any good to himself or Tony if he was frustrated or on the edge, so he concentrated on what it would feel like just to see Tony after so long, how affected he would be by simply looking at the other man. The weeks of self disgust and deep introspection had dragged on far too long and he was more than ready for the next step…whatever came of it…he was just so sick of not knowing.

[5] William Barton Rogers was a 19th century geologist who founded the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and co-founded the American Association for the Advancement of Science.

I don't plan to do anything with more with that unless I plan a sequel (this fic is only 10 chapters) but the coincidence was too good to pass up so I decided to have a little fun with the facts:)

A/N: Sorry this chapter is choppy...there's a lot to squeeze into these last three chapters and I don't want this to drag on, which it surely would if our two hero's each had their own chapters right up till the end. The next one may take a bit longer because I'd planned to write for a good portion of the weekend, but instead have to go out of town for a wake and funeral and won't have much time to work on this. Thanks for reading!