If die, only in Manhattan (part 3)

There actually is a date with Steve later, not that Steve knew about it.

'I feel good today,' Tony tells him when they meet in the bedroom, Tony just having finished his shower and Steve undressing to take one. 'Let's go out.'

'Out?'

'I was talking to Peter today and I was enlightened. We should go dancing!'

'Stop with that high voice, please,' Steve mutters resignedly, making Tony chuckle. 'You do look better today, but it's been only a few days since your surgery, are you sure it's a good idea?'

'It was a laparoscopic procedure, minimally invasive. And I stayed in hospital for longer than I was supposed to so they made sure I'm all in one piece, therefore, yes. And I feel good.'

'You know it'll likely end up in papers and on the internet?'

'I'll have JARVIS change all the headlines for The Dying Superhero Spotted Dancing With Fellow Avenger, three exclamation marks at the end, you know? Wait wait, do you even know how to dance?'

'I know how to dance.'

'What, swing? What else was around in the ancient times?'

'Ha ha,' Steve says drily, looking up at the ceiling as if he was searching for some half-divine escape from the madness. 'I spent a lot of time in HQ before I moved here, you know. With people. They taught me things, too.'

'Should I be jealous?'

'It was some time ago, but I guess you can if you want,' Steve teases, grabbing his towel from the bed frame and tossing it over his shoulder, and then added, with a much quieter voice, '… do I have to wear tight clothes? Is it that kind of a dance place?'

Tony blinks, staring at Steve's almost-terrified expression, and he can't help himself: he bursts out laughing. Just imagining Steve in one of the tight clothes places is priceless.

Steve has his trademark forehead frown and doesn't seem like he appreciates Tony's reaction.

'Sorry,' Tony manages, trying to catch a breath, the damn thing in his chest not helping at all. 'Yes, thanks for the suggestion, we should definitely go to one of those places, I don't miss them much but they are fun, if you know what I mean,' he winks at Steve who is standing frozen in the middle of the room. 'But no. Honestly, it's an entirely different kind of place. Promise me you won't laugh.'

'I'm not the one who laughs at people,' Steve comments, sounding somehow hurt, but Tony knows it's a game.

'You know, I haven't been acting as Nate, unless remotely and via JARIVS, for several weeks now –'

'And you miss it.'

'Nate has – had, whichever – some friends. I know I said I wouldn't connect those two anyhow, but maybe that was a premature promise. I kind of want to go to places, see people, I don't know how they'd react to me being Stark though –'

'If they care, they're not worth it.'

'You and your ideals,' Tony sighs, Steve's world is always so much more perfect and pleasant than Tony's, and less vicious. 'There are some people who I don't think would care, though,' he admits, thinking about the blue hand-drawn card he found in his main a few days ago. 'There's this party, then. I was invited, well, Nate was, as a guest of honor, even though I told them I won't be around, they still cared to send me an actual card. I think the average age of the participants is well below legal.'

'Tony!' Steve pretends to be annoyed, but he knows what Tony's on straight away. 'Riverside.'

'Yeah, Riverside. Those annoying creatures, they're having a Welcome Autumn ball, or something along those lines.'

'Tonight?'

'Tonight.'

'… as long as I don't have to wear tight clothes,' Steve says and disappears in the bathroom, leaving Tony smiling and still dripping water all over the carpet. 'How are you going to explain them you're the same person?' Steve calls from the bathroom but Tony doesn't reply.

It's easy: Tony wears all of Nate's disguise, only leaving his hair alone. He's been enjoying having normal hair too much to let it go, the goatee he shaved off already, too much bother to keep in nice shape. And it made kissing Steve less pleasurable but that's just a secondary reason.

Also, he doesn't speak when he and Steve enter the building. The adults know already – Tony sent them a brief message and had JARVIS reply to there are you for real wonders, assuring them yes, he is for real, and they know from the news why he'd hide himself from public.

It's Steve's first time in the place and Tony can tell he's a little stunned by how crazy the kids are. They're probably on sugar rush, honestly, or the excitement of the upcoming fun is giving them a power boost.

Or maybe they missed him. That'd make sense: as soon as they enter the common room, having exchanged a few quick words with Annik, he's swarmed by little bodies that could easily make him fall, but they are considerate enough.

There's a wave of hands signing hello and how are you and he signs back, their eyes lighting up in understanding.

'Let's see your act, now,' he types on the tablet and lets the kid see it and read to each other in hushed voices. 'Audience is waiting.'

There were maybe a dozen people and some of the kids sitting on the floor in front of the provisional scene; Nate had a chance to meet most of them before, the kids' teachers, some social workers, and a few people who work in and out of Riverside.

'Why not tell them already?' Steve whispers when they sit down, cross-legged, at the back of the room, a moment later the lights turn dim.

'They are kids. They'd be too distracted,' Tony replies, leaning against Steve's broad frame. 'Now watch.'

The play is little under half an hour, during which Tony almost falls asleep twice, and ends with three rounds of applause. It's… cute, Tony decides that's the best word, cute is the perfect umbrella term.

'Tired?' Steve asks, his breath tickling the side of Tony's neck.

'Nah,' Tony stands up, stretching his stiff limbs, just like everyone else. 'Now we'll have the dances and things. And I'll have my me-time with the kids. My skin color is about to fade.'

'Go on then,' Steve gives him a quick encouraging kiss and gives him a nudge to go.

Tony leads the kids to the other room for a few moments, and he tries his best to explain why he's been pretending to be someone else, JARVIS speaking for him for half of the time, before he decided he can acquaint everyone present with his real voice.

The older ones are fascinated when they realize who he is, letting go of the disguise piece by piece, and the younger seem to think it's hilarious and giggle endlessly. He has this conversation with JARVIS before: is it better to tell them Nate went back to England and couldn't come back, or let them know he's Stark and he's dying?

'It is always better to tell the truth,' JARVIS commented in his careful tone, 'and furthermore, according to psychological theories, it would be better for them to know that you are terminally ill than to assume you chose to abandon them.'

'Always the sound of reason,' Tony muttered, but he knew J was right, and he can see it easily in the kids' eyes – those old enough to understand death at least – that he made the right decision coming here.

'But you all,' he says at the end of the short conversation, 'you have a ball to attend. I expect you to show me your dancing skills, I hear you've been practicing. Also, I have my own date to dance with, he said he was learning some moves, too. Okay?'

There's a rumble of agreeing mutters and everyone goes back to the common room, adjusting their costumes on their way to look impeccable, and Tony almost doesn't notice one little creature, dressed all in brown and read, that stayed behind.

'What is it, Miah?' he asks, crouching so that his face is on her level; she's six, in the end.

'My friend from school was sick, and we went to see her in hospital,' she says, twirling the hem of her skirt behind her little fingers. 'Can we see you?'

'Well, I'm staying home now,' Tony replies, trying to ignore the silly melty feeling inside that he's never expect Stark to experience, of all people. 'But if I'm in hospital and need cheering up, I call you, okay?'

'Okay,' she agrees solemnly, glancing at the door, then at him, and at the door again.

Tony chuckles.

'C'mere,' he says and she climbs into his arms; he's glad she's young and tiny, otherwise he wouldn't be able to do this, but hey. He can. He gives Steve a don't say anything look when they enter the bigger room, Miah with the widest smile in the universe on her face, and she gets the first dance. Steve doesn't look too jealous.

By the end of the evening Tony is quite tired with the constant high-pitched childish voices, the whirlwind of bodies all around, and the relentless attention, but it's the good kind of tired. They are ready to make their exit with Steve when Annik grabs Tony's wrist and drags him to another room; Tony lets her and nods at Steve to give them a moment.

He expects her to ask questions, accuse him of lying, maybe give an outraged speech, but all the does is give him a hug and say, 'Thank you.'

'For?'

'For telling him the truth. They missed you.'

'I'm sorry –'

'Just come back,' she interrupts him, and blinks. 'Feels strange to cut you off mid-sentence,' she sounds amused, but then her ace grows serious. 'Or if you don't come back, let them come to you. Let them know they're wanted.'

'Believe me, I'm already planning a thing,' he assures her, he has a few nice ideas, indeed. As Tony Stark he can be as lavish as he wants and no one will question it, one good thing. 'I'll be in touch.'

She nods and lets go of his hand. It takes just sixteen steps to be out in the rain-scented world outside. Steve is waiting next to the car, arms crossed casually, standing in the middle of a street lamp pool of light, and opens the door as Tony approaches.

Tony hesitates. Steve is waiting just there, holding the door open, and Tony's phone vibrates in his pocket so he takes it out and reads the message from J: you are too tired to go for a walk.

'That meddlesome creature,' Tony mutters under his breath but he knows JARVIS monitors his pulse, heart rate, blood pressure, and everything else he can, so Tony ducks under Steve's arm and makes himself comfortable in the front seat. 'Let's drive,' he says when Steve closes his door and starts the engine.

'You sure?'

Tony loves him for not questioning it at the very moment.

'Yeah. Let's.'

He doesn't remember falling asleep, all he knows is the lights mirrored in asphalt's moist surface as it starts to rain again, dancing in his eyes like a kaleidoscope, and Steve's voice rambling about the kids sounds feels like a warm blanket around his heavy limbs.

'So I fell asleep in a random place again,' he groans at Steve's blue eyes fixed on him when he wakes up, a second later he registers the deep rumbling noise coming from outside. 'And it's one of the endless rain days. Great. I should have stayed asleep.'

'No one is telling you to get up, grumpy,' Steve's voice is far too cheerful for Tony's liking. 'I'm sorry. I woke you up, it's time for your meds. But you can go to sleep if you want to, no one is forbidding you that pleasure.'

'Six a.m. again.'

'That's how it goes, sorry. Every six hours and you know it.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Tony mumbles, sitting up, as Steve reaches for the small plastic cup he must have prepared earlier. The pills taste like nothing, followed by water, and soon Tony is back laying on his side, the duvet wrapped snugly around him. 'Come here,' he says, raising the edge, Steve moves over to wrap his big body around Tony's, holding him securely with his arms. 'Wait, aren't you training people today or something?'

'Have to be there at seven so I can still stay with you for another half hour.'

'Good.'

Tony manages not to fall asleep during the next thirty minutes, the biggest success of the day, he notices when he gets up though.

'Rest,' he orders Tony, grabbing his clothes from the closet and making Tony cringe inside at how mismatched everything is.

'All I do is rest.'

'Because that's what you need.'

'What's the fun in living if I don't get to do anything exciting? Resting is boring. I can literally feel my brain die neuron by neuron, it's a horrible feeling, believe me –'

'You've been working pretty much every day.'

'– that means nothing. Really. This isn't working much.'

'JARVIS told me to watch you, you know,' Steve comments, a small smirk climbing onto his face. 'He told me how you used to get before when you were in a creative spree, not sleeping for a few days at time.'

'Traitor.'

'I was just sharing pleasant memories with Captain Rogers,' JARVIS speaks up, but his voice isn't everywhere, it comes from one spot only, Tony moves around to quickly that he makes his neck hurt. 'Hello, Sir,' Iron Man says, standing by the window, in a very human-like pose, from the lack of better description, leaning against the huge window frame and looking out at the dark cloud-covered city.

'J. Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart.'

'You too, sir.'

'Yeah, what a lucky coincidence I was in, no?' Tony jokes, ignoring the armor's unmoving mask faced towards him. 'What is it?'

'I wanted to ask you for permission to fly the armors to the Tower. It is today, according to the schedule we drafted.'

'Oh,' Tony blinks, glancing at the calendar that JARVIS conveniently put up in the air a second earlier. 'We moving today? Fuck. I forgot. How could I forget? Why didn't someone remind me yesterday? Wait, what are we moving today, we won't do all this in one day – did we decide to leave the flat furnished? When did we do it?'

'I had a long conversation with Mister Hogan and he agreed we should leave the apartment furnished, indeed, sir. That would be counterproductive to move things as you let Miss Potts decorate all the interior of the Tower, including the residential floors. I can assure you they are quite aesthetically pleasing.'

'Oh well. I guess that means I won't have to avoid people in here like plague,' he mutters, giving JARVIS an approving nod; he's been making sure he isn't seen as Tony Stark by his neighbors. It's different with Riverside – it's important for him and for the kids – but the neighbors, that would be complicated and too difficult to control as he still doesn't feel too sure about letting the world know about Rives and Stark.

He's leaving them letters; they've been ready for a few days now. It's simple: he needs to go back to the UK, where he came from almost two years ago. Urgent matters. They are adults and they will understand, he decided, and still sticks to the thought.

'Miss Potts will be waiting for you, in fact, she took the day off to help you settle in. Mister Hogan suggests you pack the most important things to take with you when you leave the house in two hours, forty two minutes.'

'Do I have to?' Tony whines, standing up and looking around the room. He isn't sure what is important enough to take with himself, apart from a few notebooks filled with scribbles and drawings, all the meds, and bots.

'I will gladly assist you, sir. I can stay while the other armors are transported. I was hoping you would allow me that.'

'If you want to,' Tony shrugs, grabbing Steve's shirt from the chair and putting it on, he feels a bit cold for no reason. The room is as warm as always but then his body doesn't exactly work well. He also ignores the giddy feeling he gets about every time JARVIS says want, hope, believe.

'How long will it take to take down the workshop and turn it back into a normal room?'

'A week. The works will start tomorrow and I will make sure everything goes as planned as indeed it is an extremely sensitive situation. Colonel Rhodes agreed to help, the workers already signed a confidentiality agreement.'

'You're golden, J,' he frowns a bit, and then corrects himself, 'or red and gold, whatever.'

'Amusing, sir,' JARVIS comments drily and walks out of the room, imitating the previous Iron Man's body movements, leaving Tony alone to Steve humming something unrecognizable while shaving.

Tony is ready in less than two hours and forty two minutes. When he moved in here, only JARVIS and the bots mattered; he's never been very attached to his possessions. Probably comes with being a billionaire and always able to buy whatever he wanted in the world. Happy is ready in less time, too, and he has Steve's small duffle stacked with his things.

'Pepper has someone coming over at noon, and yes, they will make sure to take your damn palm tree to the Tower. Happy?'

'Are you happy?' Tony can't stop himself from asking, gaining a bored stare and a raised eyebrow. 'I know that was bad. You now I can't stop myself.'

'Just go and don't speak until you get in the car,' Happy sighs, opening the door, letting Tony pass, and then locking it. They take the lift straight to the dark underground garage, JARVIS making sure no one joins them on the ride, and get into the car. It's a short drive, the Tower is, of course, in the very center of Manhattan, screaming Stark at everyone who dares to look up towards the sky.

'How are you feeling?' a familiar voice asks as soon as they get out of the elevator, at the second floor from the top. 'You look tired.'

'You always say that,' Tony complains, opening his arms, and Pepper hugs him tightly. 'You, on the other hand, look amazing. You always look amazing but now you're looking even more amazing.'

'Stop that already,' she laughs, giving him another hug before she pulls away. 'Welcome to your apartments, Mister Stark. Would you like a tour?'

'That would be appreciated, Miss Potts,' he plays along even though he's memorized the floor plan a long time ago, seeing the interior is new though. His only requirements were for the workshop which is a floor down and he's already seen it in JARVIS-made holograms.

The place is a step away from Pepper's usual cold and minimalistic functionality, it's still all light colors, lots of empty spaces, and some modern art, but it feels… homey. In a strange way Tony can't quite pinpoint: maybe it's the soft warm-looking carpets that cover the perfectly polished wood, or soft curtains making the light milky and delicate, or maybe it's the damn palm tree that magically arrived there before himself and Happy did. Which shouldn't be possible but there it is, right in the middle of the living room.

'It's great, Pep, I love it, everything is perfect. I would never expect anything less from you,' he laughs, kissing her cheek briefly. 'It feels good.'

'It's the scent of freshly-baked bread and vanilla,' she says, smirking, because he can read his mind. 'I read in a magazine that's what property agencies use when they want to sell a house, apparently, it appeals to almost all human population as pleasant, happy, and home-like. Good to know you still quality as a human.'

'You're mean,' he pouts, turning around slowly and taking in the details once more. 'Amazing sofa. Is it like the one I have in Malibu?'

'Yes, it is.'

'Very good for falling asleep,' he comments, remembering all the nights he couldn't be bothered to go up to his bedroom and slept on the sofa instead, right in the middle of the open space living room slash hallway. He almost misses the briefest look she gives him, one that makes him feel momentarily sick. She did it on purpose: she knows he's getting tired too easily, falling asleep in strange places, and that it will only get more and more frequent. 'Uhm, so, can we see the kitchen? Is the fridge stocked?' he changes the subject, putting his hands into pockets. 'I could eat something. Didn't feel like it earlier and believe it or not, I'm feeling a bit hungry now.'

'I'm sure we can find something,' she smiles and leads him to the last room, one they haven't seen yet. Tony stops in the doorway, blinking, as soon as gets a look inside.

'Good morning, kid,' Scott says casually, closing the newspaper he was reading. The Times, Tony notes dully, how unsurprising. 'Stop gaping and say hello, it's only proper. Where are your manners?'

'Good morning, make yourself at home,' Tony says just a bit sarcastically, bowing his head slightly. 'Sweet to see you.'

'It will be much sweeter after I've seen you eat.'

Tony chuckles but makes his way towards the fridge obediently, Pepper right behind him. Happy joints in a few minutes later and they sit in the kitchen for hours, talking and pretending; Tony enjoys the change, even if the endless chattering gives him a slight headache. He's missed it. It's good. That's all that matters.

The next morning Tony stays in the new bed – he managed to fall asleep after his usual 6 a.m. wake up call – for longer than he normally would, contemplating the new space around him, the stunning view of New York he can see out of the corner of his eye, and the lightness in his limbs. The good kind, as opposed to exhaustion that consumes him too much.

He sits up, surprised at no vertigo at the sudden movement, and smiles widely.

'Morning, baby,' he greets JARVIS, standing up. The floor is slightly warm under his feet, a pleasant feeling, almost like walking on tiles that were absorbing sunray heat all afternoon, far south from where he is now.

'Morning, sir. Would you like a weather update?'

'Is it gonna rain?'

'Chance of precipitation, four percent.'

'That makes me happy enough. No rain. Cool,' he says, making his way to the shower room, it can't be called anything less. The hot water feel pleasant and relaxing so he takes longer than he normally would, and spends the next five minutes sitting on the bed and breathing something that's not steam, the cooler air of the room refreshing on his pink skin.

'Sir, I assume you remember your appointment with Doctor Eldridge?'

'Can't wait,' Tony replies, buttoning up his shirt, and surprised himself by really meaning it.

It's just a check-up: she asks Tony about his mood and pain levels and nods with content when his responses are satisfying, and draws his blood to make sure everything is in check.

'You seem rather happy today,' she comments when they're almost finished, Tony lingering around, finding himself waiting for something, pacing around the room.

'It's the best I've felt in a few weeks,' he tells her; it's relieving, not having to explain the implications of such statement. She has experience in palliative care which means she knows. 'It's nice.'

'Then what are you still doing here?' she questions, closing his file and putting it on the side. 'Go celebrate.'

That, Tony realizes, is what he wanted to hear.

'I'll see you,' he says before leaving the room. As soon as he is in the corridor, ignoring people staring at him – he's good at that – he texts Clint, the reply is almost instant and one-worded. Tony nods to himself and goes back to the car. For a moment he contemplates putting on Nate's disguise, only because it'd be easier, but he decides against it. That's cheating.

It takes him ten minutes to find a parking space near the chocolaterie but he's still the first one there. He can tell people recognize him – come on, who wouldn't – but they just give him looks and whisper to each other, no one brave enough to walk up or speak to him.

5 min, Clint texts him a moment later, so Tony orders for both of them, knowing the archer's favorites well enough.

'Hello,' he signs when Clint enters the place and spots him, sitting in the far table by the window, half-hidden behind robust flower vases.

'Hi, man. That was unexpected,' Clint sits down, frowning at the lack of menus on the table, as if he needed one. Before he can comment on it, the waitress arrives with a tray full of food, both sweet and savory. She gives Tony a shy smile and almost runs away after she's put all the plated down on the table.

'I ordered. Hope you don't mind. It's on me, by the way.'

'Looks good, thanks – you got savory food? Really? Here?'

'It's good. Don't give me that look, there's plenty of chocolate. I felt like eating canapés, so I though why not, as they say, carpe diem and all that.'

'Oh,' Clint makes a face with realization. 'Of course. Sorry.'

'If you apologize again, I'm making you pay for this –'

'You know I get a lot of money for protecting the world?'

'Don't care, it's the idea that matters,' Tony signs back, already chewing on his sandwich. It tastes good and feels appetizing, as if it had a real pronounced flavor that made his body want it, on a purely instinctive level. 'You know, I'm still the same person. You don't have to put up your game. You can sign me and insult me all you want, and tell me all the gossip. I know this,' he gestures at himself, 'changes a lot, but you have to deal with it now. It took me a long time to make that decision and I don't regret it, no matter what.'

Clint shrugs and focuses on the food for a few long minutes, stealing Tony's canapés one after another, apparently having decided they are good enough after he first bite.

'It's just distracting how pale you are,' he signs eventually and grabs a spoon, indicating that it's the end of the discussion as his hands are too occupied to reply. Tony smirks.

'Believe me, it was more distracting to me when I had to deal with it all the time, for the first few weeks, looking at myself in the mirror and seeing someone else. Weird as fuck but you get used to it. Apparently you can get used to most things.'

Clint gives him another couple minutes of silence before signing, 'I haven't been here since the last time we came over, you know. How romantic of me – and please realize the sacrifice, not having the best hot choc in town for weeks. Torture, I say.'

'Poor you,' Tony decides, biting into a chocolate sponge roll and closing his eyes with pleasure. Celebrating, indeed. This is most worth celebrating.

'And we should make another cycling trip around the town sometime, and get here in the end, like we used to.'

'I can't,' Tony frowns. Clint's eyes gleam mischievously.

'I know, I know, what if I put you in one of those little kid carriages, sound fun.'

'You're a cruel man. I'm dying here and you're cruel,' Tony pretends to pout but it doesn't work well when he's chewing on another chocolate treat.

'You said not to treat you differently, Clint laughs hollowly, in a familiar way he never does around people he has to speak with, making Tony feel as if they went back in time. There have been so many scenes like this a year ago, and earlier.

They eat and talk for some more time, Tony half-distracted with what he wants to ask Clint but he's afraid; it's personal and painful and he isn't cruel. But he has to ask.

'Clint,' he signs over the clean table, only his wallet and a small vase of flowers remaining. They are a moment from leaving and he knows he has to do it now. 'Could I ask you a favor?'

'Shoot.'

'It's rather sensitive.'

'Go on,' Clint signs, leaning over the table, and fixes his eyes on Tony's hands with a serious face.

'I know you thought you'd lose Phil for some time. We never said it but we all thought so, and you knew it,' Clint nods sharply. 'You know how it feels more than anyone I know. When I…'

'I'll be there,' Clint signs quickly, the words almost tangled, 'I can't promise anything.'

'Thank you,' the sign forms in his hands easily. 'Thanks for today, too,' he says aloud, 'it was fun.'

'One can never have too much chocolate,' Clint declares solemnly, as if he's already forgot what Tony's just mentioned, with a practices ease of a spy. 'Will you come over sometime soon?'

'You might meet me at S.H.I.E.L.D., I think I have an overdue visit to pay them, and I thought you guys could come over for a party over the weekend. Since we moved. You'll love the view, it's the highest point in NYC you can get to. Billionaires only perfection. I'll have Ijon tell you when and all.'

'I'll be waiting,' Clint agrees, putting on his helmet, and jumps onto one of Steve's bikes. Curious.

Tony waves him goodbye and makes his way back to the car, trying not to bump into too many people in the lunchtime busy hour, and drives to the big workshop to have some fun. Also, to finish a few things he wants to show Fury when he comes over, to placate the man, but that's just a secondary reason.

This is the best way to celebrate he can think of: creating.

The celebrating thing lasts for another two days. He spends a lovely evening with his friends over dinner, playing silly games, watching movies, and laughing until his lungs ache; then he reserves a whole day for Steve and flying. That's the most amazing combination he's managed to come up with: Steve and flying.

He's invited the team to come over on Saturday but by Thursday he knows he'd rather be in curled up in a bed for the next few days, even though he hates to admit it to himself. It's funny how easy it is to notice the changes with as much experience as he's gained by now, learning his body inside out. And his doctors always tell him to trust his instincts about his needs.

It's hard to explain it to anyone so he doesn't, but there's a heaviness building back in his limbs, and a nausea whenever he looks at food, and all he wants to do is sleep.

He still get sup on Friday morning, makes himself look presentable, and announces to Steve that he's going to S.H.I.E.L.D. in half an hours.

'Why?'

'I owe Fury a few words. And the guys I worked with.'

'You don't have to do anything –'

'I feel like I should.'

'Then do it,' Steve agrees is if it were simple. 'Want me to come, too?'

'Always,' Tony laughs, giving Steve a quick kiss. He has JARVIS tell Hermes to tell Fury he wants to give a little speech at HQ and, finding the corridors all empty and silent when he gets there, he laughs. His voice echoes all down the halls. Steve stares.

'Tony?'

'Yes, darling?'

'You sure you're up to this?'

'It's just cute,' Tony says, avoiding answering the question. He is very up to this. It'll be fun. 'Cute how everyone does what I say. Cute, almost,' he adds, stepping into the HQ's assembly hall to see a sea of black-clad agents. Okay. So this probably is everyone who was around. Very funny.

When they notice him, dressed in one of Stark's sharpest suits, signature sunglasses in place, they move out of his way, forming a path. That makes him laugh again, as he walks down, familiar with being surrounded with endless assessing eyes, Steve two steps behind him.

'Mister Stark finally decided to please us with his presence so let's thank him for the damn honor,' Fury says, his voice low and dangerous, as he claps his hands a few times, the sound filling the room in sharp jabs. The agents follow and Tony realizes he's never known clapping can be sarcastic. Funny how they get Fury so well, maybe it's in employee handbook, a certain set of humor. Like, see if a candidate laughs at a set of jokes.

He really shouldn't be thinking about this right now.

'How kind of your dear Director to organize all of this just for me,' Tony says sweetly as soon as he walks up to the microphone. So, explanation time, is it?

Fury's staring. Tony can feel the anger burning through his back, it's distracting. He promised himself he wouldn't be bothered by Fury but this is a bit like being back to school. Everyone is staring at him and judging, Tony might be vain, but he's aware of how imperfect he is looking. How imperfect he is.

'So, the Director is annoyed with me, should I be surprised? I shouldn't. I'm sure we've all been there,' he says and everyone goes quiet in a split of a second. Eerie. 'To be honest I wanted to talk to some people Iron Man and Nate Rives worked with. This is quite unnecessary but I'll take it as a compliment,' he looks around. No one seems to move or breathe; he tries to find any familiar places in the crowd, but it's too much effort.

Okay, so he's had this in SI, he's acquainted with crowds and the master of awkward situations, but they are just staring. And he isn't even sure what he wants to say anymore: his words were one quarter apology and three quarters motivational speech to a certain group of people he's learned to know well enough, and this feel inadequate.

He clears his throat, the voice amplified by countless speakers, and looks around one more time. Even Steve's face is unreadable; he seems to be surprised at Tony's reluctance.

Fury's just damn evil, choosing this as a payback for being kept in the dark, Tony decides. There have to be, like, two thousand people standing in front of him, and he's tired. He knows he looks tired. He should've just stayed home, he realizes.

The silence is ringing in his ears.

'So, this is the day when we find Tony Stark speechless. Historical event, agents. Remember it,' he hears Fury's voice surround him, everyone shifting a little, a soft rustle of movement breezing through the room. Tony looks back with a frown to see Fury smirking but there's nothing vicious in it, which somehow surprises him by how unfitting it looks. Director seems rather… proud. 'Ladies and gentleman,' he continues, staring straight into Tony's eyes, 'an applause for the man who fooled S.H.I.E.L.D, please,' Fury says and winks at Tony, joining in. Tony turns to Steve to see him clapping, too, that traitor.

So he just stands there for what seems like ages. He doesn't know how long it is, he just stands there, frozen in place, the applause echoing and overlapping, this time perfectly honest and real, people smiling at him, and he doesn't know what to say. Probably thank them. Or say nothing.

He didn't do anything that amazing, did he? The man who fooled S.H.I.E.L.D. How many unsaid words Fury managed to fit in there.

'Hey,' he suddenly hears Steve's voice whispering right into his air, 'wasn't there something you wanted to tell them?'

Tony breathes out, feeling Steve's arms wrap around his waist – he doesn't mind but it'd in front of all these people and it's nice, and realizes the noise had gone down a few notches. It's still there, but it's expectant, in a strange way.

'There are some things I didn't say publicly and won't say publicly,' he states into the microphone. Steve doesn't move an inch and Tony can see some people pointing at the discretely and whispering to each other. 'But you deserve it because S.H.I.E.L.D. had been a big part of the last few years of my life, and almost home to Iron Man. Sometimes to Rives, too. It's not just Avengers that matter. We – all of us here and more agents who are away – we saved the world together. Changed it. That's something,' this time he claps first and everyone follows. It's a short one though. 'So, it's cancer. I learned I was sick before I joined you. I knew I was going to die a few months after I joined you and I've done some amazing things with you since I came here. I think all I wanted to do is thank you, and say I've had great time.'

There's that silence again, but this time Tony smiles at them.

'I'll see to everything I've left unfinished and since now, you can speak with Spider Man the way you'd speak with Rives, and you can speak with Iron Man the way you'd speak with, well, Iron Man,' he chuckles. 'And now, because I can, I'll give you a cheesy live advice from a dying man: live your fucking lives to the fullest,' he says and turns around slightly, stands on his toes, as kisses Steve. Steve, surprisingly, doesn't seem to mind at all.

Tony makes a peace sign with his free hand, the other wrapped around Steve, and when they walk down to the back of the stage, there are whistles and clapping and shouts accompanying them. Tony wears a smile persistently and drops it only when they are in the other room, only Fury following them. When he closes the door, the noise of crowd moving outside is cut down almost completely.

'You've been avoiding me,' Fury says accusingly and looks like he wants to say more but he seems to notice something in Tony's face that makes him stop.

'Water?' Steve asks, letting Tony out of his grasp so that he can sit down. Tony nods. 'There you are,' Steve produces a bottle seemingly out of nowhere. 'Drink. All of it. He's not feeling that well,' he explains, turning to Fury.

'Steve,' Tony whines between sips; he can say his own words, can't he?

Fury ignores them both.

'I'm annoyed with you, yes, Stark, because I asked you numerous times if there's anything I can do and you always refused to tell me anything, and now I learn you have cancer and I feel like I should have done something. So that you wouldn't – die,' the last word is more of a choke than a real word.

Tony considers.

'You couldn't have done anything and I'm sorry I was lying to you. I didn't feel like sharing my story. I still don't feel like sharing,' Tony grimaces, handing Steve the empty bottle. The water seems to sit heavy in his stomach, there goes eating anything today, he realizes. 'S.H.I.E.L.D. did a lot of great things, like I said earlier. It's enough.'

'Whatever you say, Stark,' Fury grumbles, twirling with the holster strapped to his leg, as if he didn't care about the conversation. Tony knows that technique too well.

'There's something you can do for me though, you know,' Tony adds, standing up, ready to leave with Steve. He needs to rest. Be somewhere quiet. Distract himself. 'Do you want to do something for me?'

'Like a last wish?'

'Might have some more wishes, I don't think I'm dying today or something,' Tony grins. Fury stares, not very amused. 'If you want to do something for me, do this: never question Iron Man. He's part of S.H.I.E.L.D. now, so he's under your jurisdiction and protection, and I tell you this: I trust him with my life. Never question him.'

'I trust your word,' Fury says, crossing his arms on his chest. Tony takes a step towards the door when he adds, 'is he going to be pain in the ass, like Hermes?'

'He is my best friend, what do you think?' Tony replies, raising an eyebrow, and leaves the room with Fury's fate-accepting face before his eyes.

'I want to go home,' Tony mutters to Steve, taking his hand, and lets Steve lead him back to the car. They don't say anything more.

Doc decides Tony just has a cold.

'Just a cold doesn't work like that with you, though. Your body is too engaged with fighting something else and taking care of the tumor as much as it can manage so this simple thing is exhausting you.'

'But I don't feel like I have cold, I mean, I don't have sore throat. Or blocked nose. Or anything –'

'You've got mild fever, headache, difficulty swallowing, and hoarse voice. That's enough. Symptoms don't have to be typical. We've checked everything else and it seems as good as it can be, yes?'

'Yeah.'

'So you just drink plenty and rest.'

Tony nods, pulling the blanket under his chin, and tries to ignore the strange feeling all through his body; it feels like a bad flu. But it isn't, he knows, if he had a flu Doc wouldn't hesitate to drive him to hospital, especially with the little trinket in Tony's chest. He never knew a simple cold could be this exhausting.

It turns out he can't hold anything down, either, which isn't a new thing. Doc gives him three hours of trying to hydrate his body and throwing up all the water he drinks before he hooks Tony up to an IV.

The next morning there's a bruise in the crook of his arm and he squints at the sunray running across right across it, its brightness almost blinding. Lovely. The first cloudless day in weeks.

'J, I don't think I want to see anyone today,' he whispers. His throat hurts and his voice is rough from yesterday, he can still almost taste the bile in his mouth; it's scary how familiar that feels.

JARVIS knows what he's saying is: I don't think I want anyone to see me today. They had the talk before.

'I already canceled your appointment with the team, Ijon informed them the meeting will be moved to a more suitable date,' there's a moment of silence when Tony examines the purple and red on his arm with morbid fascination. He'll probably need another transfusion soon. 'Sir, do you trust them?'

'Sorry?' Tony's head snaps up and he finds himself staring at the white ceiling.

'Would you trust them to see you like you are today?'

'Not when I still have the choice.'

'Of course,' JARVIS acknowledges easily, as if it made perfect sense. 'Your fever is lower today. It seems the medicine Doctor Eisen administered yesterday is working.'

Tony nods and then gestures at JARVIS to show him who is around, a fancy feature he's got to his very own Tower. Pepper is in the office, Happy in the lobby, talking with someone, Doc is in the second floor canteen, and Steve isn't there at all which means he's at S.H.I.E.L.D. The rest of the people are marked in a different color so that Tony can ignore them promptly. He sighs, deciding against getting up, and lets JARVIS entertain him with a screening of an old science-fiction movie with the A.I. snarky commentary lulling him to sleep.

It takes Tony two days before he can keep down his food and another two before he can walk around like a normal human, without feeling like his limbs were detached from his body, and he enjoys the lovely feeling by spending some quality time in workshop with JARVIS and Marks. JARVIS has agreed to work with him as long as he stays in his armchair and doesn't overexert himself.

They are a few hours in – Tony had a milkshake and a few crackers in the meantime to keep him going – when there's an assemble call. Steve's at HQ with Rhodey, Natasha and Clint, having a meeting of their hand-to-hand, human-only training group, so they can jump on the Quinjet anytime.

'Go and kick the bad guy's asses, J,' Tony gives the A.I. his blessing, almost managing it with straight face, and watches the newest armor fly out. There's no need for stealth mode anymore: anyone can see Iron Man flying out of Stark Tower. The whole world know it's Tony's invention and it makes him damn proud. He wants to show the new Iron Man off, like a proud parent. Ah. Funny thought.

'So, have you finished the pressure calculations yet?' he asks, turning away from the windows to look at the big screen, JARVIS calm voice assuring him that he indeed has.

Tony stays up working most of the night, only partially to keep updated on the fight – somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, scientific experiments gone wrong again, silly and dangerous – and mostly because he can. He's slept so much past few days that he feels fully awake and decided to take advantage and share some of the things cooped up in his head with his favorite A.I. and some S.I. engineers he emails instantly, knowing they'll be happy to see the messages first thing in the morning.

Steve comes home just after five, takes a quick shower, and joins Tony who's moved to the living room in the meantime, tiptoeing silently.

'Hey, hero, good job,' he says, giving Steve a small smile. 'JARVIS said the weather will be nice, stay up and watch the sunrise with me? I didn't get to see it from up here yet and we've been here for like a week. More than that.'

'If you insist,' Steve decides, climbing onto the sofa and letting Tony lean against him. They talk for the remaining hour and when the bright pink and yellow glow appears over the ocean, Tony can't help but smile. It's so simple and annoyingly pretty.

A shiver runs down Tony's spine and he realizes his feet and hands are ice cold; JARVIS sneakily kept the 'shop much warmer during the night. Steve seems to notice that, too, so he covers Tony with a blanket and hugs him tightly.

'Are you sure you don't you want to move to Malibu? There's Californian sun shining there almost all the time, and it's warm, I know how much you dislike the gloom and the cold –'

'Steve', Tony cuts in, his voice is quiet but firm, 'We made this place home. If I am to die, I want to die in Manhattan.'

'Well then,' Steve replies in the very same tone, 'I won't complain.'

A/N: Hello again! Hope that some of you are here and haven't forgotten about this story over the holidays :) This is the last piece of this part, but there is a bonus to follow in a few days. I'm very interested in any of your thoughts so please share and make me happy! Thanks for reading.