A/N: Thanks for the comments! Yes, Steve does indeed have his own set of issues.

Tony made and drank another cup of coffee-only his first infraction of the two cups a day rule, which was astonishing-and was waiting at the landing pad when the quinjet arrived shortly after ten p.m. By that point Steve was moving under his own power, though Sam and Natasha were flanking him just in case. His uniform was absolutely blood-soaked; if it had been anyone but him, Tony was almost certain they would've had a fatality on their hands.

"Rogers," he said with a nod. "Please tell me your first stop will be to see the lovely medical people."

"I'm fine," Steve protested. "It's already healing."

"Who's in charge? Oh, that's right, I am. Don't make me make it an order, soldier."

"Aye, aye, cap'n," Steve said wryly. "I'll remember this the next time you don't want to go to medical."

"I look forward to it," Tony said. "I also look forward to the conversation we need to have about what happened."

"Not tonight."

"No, not tonight." He looked to Sam and Natasha. "Make sure he gets there in one piece, yeah?"

Natasha said nothing and gave him the evil eye, but Sam nodded and they went inside. Tony surveyed the others, who looked tired and dirty but otherwise unscathed. "Did someone report to the U.N. about the mission?" he asked as they trooped inside.

"Steve called it in as soon as Sam would let him sit up," Rhodey said. "Have you taken a look at the files you grabbed?"

"The decryption program is giving them the once-over. Are you thinking we may need to have more raiding parties?"

"It seems possible," Clint put in as they piled into the elevator. "That was seriously good stealth tech on the base."

"I should hope so. It's the same as on the jet," Tony said.

"You mean you can't crack your own tech?"

He shrugged. "I could if I wanted to. I haven't wanted to, but now I'll have to since HYDRA got its filthy paws on it."

Clint and Wanda disembarked, headed for the kitchen to put away the empty coolers. Wanda was levitating hers about two feet off the floor while Clint simply carried the other one. Vision silently followed them.

Tony stayed with Rhodey until they were outside Rhodey's bedroom. "You got it from here?" he asked.

"Pretty sure I can take care of this part, yeah," Rhodey answered. When Tony headed back down the hall in the opposite direction of his own room, Rhodey called, "You aren't going to bed?"

"I'm going to check on Captain Idiot. And try to placate Widow. I appear to have pissed her off without meaning to. Normally I mean to."

"Should I wait to get in bed until Friday tells me you've survived?" Rhodey teased.

"Nah, I'll be fine. Wilson will intervene if necessary. I hope."

When Tony arrived in the medical wing, two orderly-type people were helping Steve peel himself out of his uniform while Sam and Natasha stood a discreet distance away.

"Do you really need to watch me undress?" Steve asked with a hint of exasperation. "Wasn't last week's strip poker enough?"

"What, are you ashamed of your spangled underpants? Or, even better, are you trying to hide that you're going commando?" Tony replied with a wink before turning around.

Sam and Natasha followed suit. "He refused to let us help him change on the jet," Sam said in an undertone. "Now I see why: he was wounded in more places than we knew."

"Which wouldn't have happened if he had the shield," Natasha said, glaring at Tony.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that? Wilson, why does she keep looking at me like that?" Tony said defensively.

"Last I saw it, you had the shield," Natasha snapped. "You're more petty than I realized, refusing to give it back like this."

"Um, hold on a second. As I said before, this is absolutely not my fault." Tony pulled out his phone. "Friday, do me a favor and tell Widow here where the shield is."

"Captain Rogers' shield is in his equipment locker in the armory," Friday replied.

Tony put the phone back in his pocket. "There, see? Not my fault."

"Does he know it's there?" Natasha asked suspiciously.

Tony sighed and pulled out his phone again. "Friday, display the armory security footage when Captain Rogers accompanied me."

It took a moment, then Friday started playback when they entered the armory. Tony had her freeze the image where he displayed the shield to Steve.

"Is the date stamp correct?"

"Who do you think I am? Of course it's correct."

"But that's the day after he arrived."

"Yep." Tony watched her face and could almost see the moment when her ire transferred from him to Steve.

"Does he have a death wish?" she snarled, but not so loud that Steve could hear.

"That is one of several questions I would like to ask him," Tony said, glancing over his shoulder. "Very nice, Rogers. You make even a hospital gown look good."

"Stuff it, Stark," Steve said, accompanying his words with a gesture that made Tony grin.

"Guys, I think we've corrupted young Steve here. He just flipped me the bird."

"I'd give the Army more credit for that than us," Sam said reasonably as they turned around again.

"I don't know, he was still chiding me on my language not that long ago."

"You usually deserve it," Natasha commented.

"Like hell I do," Tony shot back.

Sam ignored them both. "So what's the verdict?" he asked.

A woman in a lab coat came over to them. "He's healing well so far, but we'd like to keep an eye on him overnight in case there are complications from the blood loss."

"Can one of us stay with him?"

"That would be fine."

"I'll stay," Tony said immediately.

"You sure, Stark? I can do it, I've done it before," Sam said.

"You've earned some sleep. I just sat on my ass all day," Tony said dismissively.

It took a moment, but Sam nodded. "All right. I'll come down to relieve you around three."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Sam and Natasha left after Steve and his bed were moved to a more private corner of the floor. Tony pulled up a chair and straddled it backwards.

"Are you my guardian?" Steve asked dryly.

"I'm your company," Tony corrected. "But if you'd like to ignore me and sleep instead, that's fine by me."

"You're not going to interrogate me about what happened?"

"I will if you want me to, but I thought you might like some time to think about how you're a complete idiot before I yell at you."

"How considerate of you."

"I do try."

"I'd never guess, from how often you succeed."

"My, aren't we snappy today. You should lose large amounts of blood more often." Tony paused. "No, on second thought, don't. Very messy, and you risk losing too much and sticking me with the leader gig. Which I don't want, in case you forgot."

"Heaven forbid you have to take responsibility for anyone else's actions, much less your own."

Tony beat an aimless rhythm on the chair. "I didn't deserve that, not entirely. Responsibility isn't my strong suit, I'll admit it, but I'm doing better than I used to."

Steve didn't comment.

Tony stopped the idle drumming and crossed his arms instead. "Why?" he asked simply.

"Why?" Steve repeated softly after a long pause. "Because I realized you were right. I don't deserve it."

Tony bowed his head until his forehead rested on the back of the chair. "Of all the times for you to actually listen to me." He sighed and lifted his head. "I won't say I didn't mean it. I did, at the time. But that doesn't make me right."

"I could have killed you. I almost did."

"I know. That still doesn't mean I was right."

Silence fell and lasted for nearly five minutes. Tony kept track by way of the ridiculously loud clock on the wall as he debated what to say next, if anything.

"In spite of that, you're one of the best men I know," he said eventually. "I said once that I don't want to see you gone. I meant it, and that includes through stupidity like leaving yourself vulnerable in a firefight. Come on, Rogers, recklessness like what you just pulled is more my style than yours."

"Who else ranks as one of the best men you know?"

"Rhodey," Tony said. "Happy. Bruce. Sometimes Barton is up there. It depends on what sort of shit he's pulled lately. Wilson is earning a spot in the ranks, too."

"Not Vision?"

"Vision isn't a man, not in the usual sense. I don't know what to make of him more than half the time. But you're getting off topic, which is me trying to say that I was wrong to say you don't deserve the shield."

"I shouldn't have used it against my teammates, against my friends."

"Well, yeah, that would've been nice. But you do realize the shield isn't a magical artifact, right? It's not going to turn evil or something because of what you do with it."

"Of course not." Steve sounded scandalized that he would even make the suggestion. "I haven't lived up to the ideals that Captain America is supposed to stand for, so I don't deserve to carry the shield."

"What, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?" Tony asked. "Look, ideals are all well and good, but down here in the real world, shit happens. You're a man, and men make mistakes. But you're a good man, Steve Rogers, a good man who can still do good things if only you don't let your mistakes hold you back."

"Do you consider Siberia a mistake?"

He took a deep breath and went with the first response that came to mind. "For all our disagreements, we don't usually want to kill each other. Punch? Yes. Kill? No. If you'd prefer to call it a failure of judgment, that could work. There wasn't a whole lot of judgment involved in my reaction, that's for sure. But it was definitely your fault you didn't tell me what you knew about my parents."

"Yes," Steve said heavily. "I am very sorry about that, Tony." After a pause, he asked, "What do you think would have happened if you had known?"

"What, after we saw the tape?"

Steve nodded.

He thought about it. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "If I'd known, it wouldn't have been such a shock. Upsetting, sure, but not shocking. Maybe I would've tried to punch Barnes for it. Maybe I would've gone after Zemo instead. But what happened wouldn't have happened."

"Not even with everything at the airport and with Rhodey?"

Tony shrugged. "Right now, I can say that wouldn't have mattered. At that moment, though . . . I don't know. I meant it about the truce, so I'd like to think I would've been able to handle that tape."

"If you had already known."

"If I had already known," he agreed.

Steve sighed. "That's one hell of a mistake," he said miserably.

"Go big or go home," Tony said flippantly.

Steve didn't say anything else so Tony didn't either, though he did turn the chair around and sit in it the normal way. When Steve seemed to fall asleep, Tony pulled out his phone and started flicking through the documents from the HYDRA base. He didn't see anything immediately interesting, but from the way his eyes were starting to close of their own accord, that wasn't really surprising.

The tap on his shoulder startled him from an uncomfortable doze; it was Sam, coming as he'd promised to take a turn sitting with Steve, who was still sleeping. "I hope you brought something to read," Tony said offhandedly as he stood up and stretched, his back popping and cracking in ways that made him feel especially old.

"I did, though it might just put me to sleep," Sam said.

"You wouldn't miss much."

Tony was asleep almost as soon as he crawled into bed, and didn't wake again until after nine. He took his meds, then took a shower, and still felt generally out of sorts. Even coffee didn't completely banish the feeling of disconnection from his surroundings. The rest of the team were off doing whatever it was they needed to do; he 'needed' to do nothing, so he felt aimless and vaguely ridiculous.

He took refuge in his workshop and messaged Pepper until she had to go to a meeting. Then he idly stared at his next armor design for a while, contemplating weak spots and tiny men messing about in the circuitry. Just for fun he had Friday simulate the armor being hit from every possible angle by an object made of vibranium and observed the resulting carnage. There wasn't a whole lot he could do about that without making the suit itself out of vibranium (or something stronger, if such a something existed).

It was almost a relief when Rhodey came to retrieve him for lunch. Apparently they had tried having Friday call him, but he hadn't even registered that she was speaking. Or maybe he had muted her. He couldn't remember.

Steve joined them for lunch, having been set free from the medical wing about an hour earlier. He, too, was quiet and subdued, so the conversation was carried by Wanda, Natasha, and Clint, who were discussing the pros and cons of various hairstyles in combat. Tony had no idea why Clint thought he had something to contribute to that conversation, but evidently he had opinions.

After everyone was finished eating, they scattered once again. Clint and Wanda went with Natasha to review candidate information for both the PA and the PR positions, Vision and Sam discussed the lawyers' comments on Ross' lawsuit, and Steve and Rhodey were left with Tony to . . . he wasn't sure what.

"Is this an intervention?" he joked when they were left behind.

"Why, do you think you need one? We can make it that, if you want," Rhodey said.

"Intervention?" Steve asked, confused, so they had to explain. Which, of course, took all the humor out of the joke.

"Speaking of intervention, I have a bone to pick with you, Rogers," Rhodey said.

"What's that?"

"Why the hell weren't you using the shield yesterday?"

Steve glanced at Tony. "Stark and I talked about that already. I'd prefer not to do so again."

Rhodey looked to Tony, who nodded in confirmation. "All right, as long as somebody has told you what an idiotic move that was, I don't need to pile on."

When neither Steve nor Tony spoke, Rhodey said, "Since it's just us, I'm going to ask a question I'm pretty sure I already know the answer to: Have we sent the revised Accords to the U.N. people yet?"

The answer was no, as he'd expected.

"I meant to look at that on Saturday, but then the mission came up," Steve admitted.

"I didn't mean to do anything with it, but if you want me to, I can," Tony added. "Sitting on the sidelines all the time is really not my style."

"We'd prefer it if dying wasn't your style either, so it has to be done," Rhodey replied.

"I'm pretty sure I won't drop dead from talking about a long-ass document," Tony retorted. "Except maybe from sheer boredom."

"Then let's see if we can get that sent today," Steve said firmly.

They used the conference screen to display the comments from the lawyers alongside the Accords, making a few minor edits as they went. Tony took charge of manipulating what was on the screen; watching Steve or Rhodey try to do it was just painful when he knew he could do it faster.

It was a slog, but they made it all the way through and identified a few areas where feedback from the subcommittee would be appreciated-primarily on the issue of defining what, exactly, made someone 'enhanced' and thus subject to the Accord's provisions. Tony drafted the message to the subcommittee chair, then had Friday send it under Steve's name, with copies distributed to all concerned parties, namely the Avengers and T'Challa.

By the time they finished, dinner was ready. Tony thought it was good they managed to finish, because Steve looked exhausted and he didn't feel much better. Everyone seemed tired, really, which showed itself in the lackluster conversation over the food. Preoccupation or weariness was evidently the order of the day.

As they slowly finished eating, Sam suggested they all turn in early. Steve quickly agreed it was a good idea and strongly advised they do so, then he set the example by heading to his room as soon as he was certain the cleanup was taken care of.

Tony would have waited until everyone else had left before retreating to his own room, but Rhodey wanted his company in the elevator. As soon as the doors closed on them, Rhodey turned to face Tony. "So what's the deal with Rogers?"

"Apparently it's my fault. As usual." Tony briefly recounted what Steve had said. The elevator ride was a short one, so they were in Rhodey's room by the time he finished.

Rhodey listened with a calculating look. "So because the guy is overwhelmed with guilt, that's your fault? No, this time I think you're in the clear. He only listened to what you said because some part of him already believed that."

"Maybe. But we've got to convince him I was wrong."

"Easier said than done," Rhodey said, grimacing. "Though with him, you'd think it couldn't be that hard. It's not like you agree that often, so he must think you're wrong a lot."

"You'd think."

"We'll have to see what we can do. Tomorrow. Good night, Tony."

"Good night." Tony went to his room and prepared for bed, then stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a while before sleep came.