As if invited by the conversation with Dr. Tanya, bad dreams woke Tony twice during the night. The first time occurred a scant two hours after they'd all turned in, and whatever had woken him receded into forgetfulness as soon as he opened his eyes. He went back to sleep easily enough, lulled by the sound of snoring from somewhere in the cabin.

The second nightmare had more staying power despite its familiar elements: a heap of Stark weapons over which were splayed the dead bodies of Avengers. This time, the team included everyone from Steve to Nat to Clint to Thor to Bruce-not Hulk, but Bruce-and Rhodey, Wanda, Sam, Bucky, T'Challa, Peter, and even Vision, all dead. All because of him, which he knew without a doubt in that confident certainty of dreams.

And surrounding them, civilians. Yinsen. The kids in Gulmira. The kid from the Expo. All those people in New York. Harley from Rose Hill. The people of Sokovia, plus Charlie front and center. Laura and Nathaniel. Cooper. Lila. The people they'd rescued from the quake. All those kids from the school.

I remember all of them.

And at the very top stood Maria, terrified, pleading with him in words he did not understand. She wore what could only be a bomb vest, and the cords snaked their way down the pile, leading to the trigger in his hand. It was his hand and yet not his hand, familiar but not under his power. He could feel the button beneath his thumb, feel the pressure of striking it, even as he echoed Maria's cry of anguish.

Immediately he was restrained, taken into custody for his terrible deeds, and he struggled against the grip even as he knew to the depths of his soul that he deserved whatever consequences were coming. A hand clamped over his mouth though he hadn't been aware of trying to say anything, and he instinctively fought back as he was dragged toward a gaping portal into nothingness.

"C'mon, Tony, wake up!" a voice hissed in his ear.

The voice was sufficiently out of place in the hellscape that he was startled into stillness and he murmured, "What the hell?"

"That's what I'm saying. Why'd you bite me?" the voice replied.

He blinked, then blinked again, but all he saw was the vaguest of shapes in the darkness. He still felt a tight grip around his chest and he tried to fight free.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy. Are you with me now?"

He finally recognized the voice as Steve, and he went abruptly still. "Fucking hell," he said, his words muffled by the hand over his mouth. He was debating whether to lick it out of spite when the hand moved and the grip around his chest was reinforced.

"Tony?" Steve sounded almost worried.

"Unhand me, Boy Scout, or I'll write you up for wrongful imprisonment," he growled. Waking up in Steve's arms might have been funny if he were in the mood, but right now it just pissed him off.

The arms around him relaxed but did not disappear completely. "Are you okay? It sounded like you were getting ready to scream, and you nearly fell off the bunk."

"It was a nightmare," he said shortly.

"Must've been quite a dream," Steve said sympathetically, finally withdrawing his arms. He came around to where Tony could just make him out in the dimness and see that Steve's palms were held toward him in a 'I won't hurt you' gesture. "I promise I meant no harm," he added softly. "I didn't want you to hurt yourself or wake the others."

"Thanks," Tony said reluctantly, taking a deep breath and looking anywhere but at Steve, embarrassed by the entire situation.

"Do you have those often?"

"What's it to you?"

"Hey, it was just a question. I have them too, you know. Not as often as I used to, which is nice, but I know how it feels."

He sighed and clenched his fists. "Sorry. I'm still weirded out," he admitted, then ran a hand over his hair. "Yeah, I have them kind of often. I'm not sure how long it's been since I made it a week without one."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Why are you awake? Did I wake you?" When Steve hesitated, he groaned. "I did, goddammit."

"Not exactly. This is about the time I've been waking up," Steve assured him.

He blinked down at his watch. It was just after five thirty, local time. "You always have been an early bird."

"At the compound it's eight thirty, so this feels like sleeping in."

Steve sounded way too cheerful about it, Tony thought, given the hour and the images still lurking in his mind. "Do I even want to know what you do with yourself while you're waiting?"

"I go out on deck so I don't wake anyone," he replied, glancing around the cabin.

Tony decided to take that as a hint. "Well, you might as well lead on. I'm not going to try sleeping again."

"Do you need to change first?"

He glanced down at his sleeveless undershirt and loose cotton pants, puzzled. "I'm fully clothed, what's the problem?"

Steve seemed disconcerted, but he pulled open the floor hatch and dropped down on to the deck. At least that explained how he'd leave without putting down the ramp and disturbing everyone.

Tony followed less gracefully after shoving his feet into his shoes, grumbling about people with long limbs and young backs. Steve was beside the jet, looking out over the water as he stretched a bit.

"I wouldn't want to be outside in my pajamas, that's all," Steve said when Tony caught up to him. "But sometimes I forget how much things have changed."

"When people have been sneaking pictures of you your whole life, no matter what you're doing or wearing, you either get used to it or you become a hermit."

Steve remained silent for a moment. "Have you ever not been in the public eye?"

Tony barked a laugh. "No," he said shortly. "I have always been scrutinized and gossiped about and photographed with or without my knowledge."

"Is that why you record everything?"

Tony sighed and debated for a moment before deciding there was no harm in continued honesty. "No, that was Jarvis's idea. I was, um, drinking heavily when I brought him online and he got tired of me not believing him when I asked what happened during the periods I couldn't remember."

"So he'd play back the recordings."

"He sure did, the cheeky bastard. And then I realized recordings could be useful sometimes, so I made it a regular thing. Don't worry, anything not related to Ross is deleted or archived on a rolling basis. I don't have anything on you that you're not aware of."

"I wasn't worried."

"Then why the twenty questions?"

"I was just wondering."

"So, what have you been doing other mornings when you don't have me to interrogate? Go for a run around the perimeter?"

"No, I'd stay close to the jet, do some warmups, check in with the compound, things like that. I wasn't sure if there was some kind of tracking to make sure I wouldn't wander off unsupervised, and I didn't want to ask."

"There's not," he said, uncertain whether to be amused at the excessive caution or insulted at the insinuation that he spied on people. "When you said you weren't going to do anything stupid, I believed you."

"That's good to know," Steve said after an awkward pause. "I think I'm going to go for a run now."

"Knock yourself out," Tony said dismissively, pulling out his phone. He walked a few leisurely laps around the jet before settling down cross-legged near the front landing strut, all the while sifting through his messages.

Bill had started sending him a daily update on lawyerly things, so he started by skimming those. The terrorism investigation was still ongoing, the leaders having decided in consultation with Tony's lawyers that the best way to clear his reputation would be to carry out the process to completion, at which point everyone expected there would be nothing to prosecute. Unfortunately, that meant his funds and property remained in limbo, though Bill assured him that negotiations were underway to remedy that situation.

At the same time, his cooperation was being sought by those responsible for the inquiry into Ross's shenanigans (not the term Bill used, but Tony considered it accurate). The lawyers had already shared the recordings and all documentation they possessed, and it was likely he would be asked to testify before long. That was all well and good, he was more than willing to tell them everything they wanted to know and then some.

The update from the evening before had him calling Rhodey even as he finished reading it.

"Let me guess, you need something," Rhodey teased when he answered the phone.

"I have good news for you, bossman," Tony retorted.

"Do tell."

"You are no longer in danger of being branded a terrorist."

"Come again?"

"Ross's threat about the Foreign Terrorist Organization thing? It was dead in the water the whole time. He's supposed to have approval from other departments but they refused."

Rhodey gave a low whistle. "That's not going to help his cause. Why would he risk pulling that stunt when it wasn't going to go anywhere?"

"To get us to do something stupid, I guess. The more contact I have with him, the less I feel like I understand what the hell he's trying to accomplish."

"Does that mean he might be plotting something else?"

Tony sighed. "I wish I knew. He's discredited, out of a job, and staring at the possibility of jail time once this inquiry finds out all the shit he's pulled, so it doesn't seem like there's much he could do, but . . ."

"But if it was you, you'd still have ideas," Rhodey finished grimly.

"Obviously, but I also wouldn't have been as stupid as he's been, so it's not a fair comparison."

"We'll be on our guard. How are things going out there?"

Tony gave him the rundown of what they'd been doing and the conversation ended shortly after, when Rhodey had to go to physical therapy. Then he stared out toward the horizon, considering Ross and his foreboding dream and what it all might mean. In thinking about the dream, he wondered about Maria, and told Friday to find what she could.

It didn't take long before she reported, "No records found, boss. The facilities in this city do not appear to be using electronic medical records at this time."

"Of course they aren't," he muttered. He'd had a sneaking suspicion that would be the case.

Right on cue, Steve returned, sweating but not even breathing hard. "You're still out here?"

"I could say the same to you. What happened with Maria?"

For a moment, he thought Steve was going to ask why he wanted to know, but Steve just nodded. "I gave her to the first medic I found. I don't know where they went after that, I was too busy getting back to the building that had just collapsed with you in it."

"Right." He sighed and checked the time. The others would be waking up soon, so he should get moving.

Steve wordlessly offered him a hand up, which he accepted, and they climbed back into the jet to change.

They were still on body recovery duty that day, and the next, and the next. Sometimes Tony couldn't help but wonder about the people they were retrieving, what they had been doing when their lives suddenly ended. Other times, he was on debris duty, moving things and breaking up the largest pieces into smaller bits that could be moved more easily by the city workers and potentially reused somehow in the future. He didn't mind that job; it was purely an engineering problem, and he was good at those. Well, Friday was good at those, but the execution required a steady hand and a certain amount of knowledge that he happened to possess.

Every evening, he called Pepper. It felt like the right thing to do in the face of all of the recent reminders that his life could end at any point, and he'd rather not regret anything when it came to her. She seemed alternately exasperated and amused that it took being confronted with widespread death and destruction (again) for him to contact her regularly.

He asked Toni to find out what she could about the girl Maria and how she was doing, and it took her over a day to track down the right child in between other tasks. Eventually she produced the address of a hospital near the border and he debated how to check up on her in a way that would yield trustworthy information with a minimum of disruption.

In the end, Vision went to the hospital and returned with news that she'd had surgery to straighten out her legs with pins and things, and she was in relatively good spirits. Her prognosis was unclear and depended upon a lot of factors, but even in the best case, she would at least have a limp and it would be a very long time before she'd be able to walk without assistance.

Tony's call to Pepper that night included a conversation about the medical technology branch of SI and the possibility of donating assistive devices to those in need after the earthquake, both in Mexico and the U.S. Pepper teased him about being very free with other people's money before agreeing to have her people start investigating the best way to make it happen.

By the end of their fourth day doing retrievals, Tony was getting the feeling that they had just about reached the end of their usefulness. The list of places left to check for casualties was short enough they should be able to finish the following day, and the aid organizations were better equipped to handle the remaining needs of the city's beleaguered residents than four volunteer Avengers, a pilot, and a linguistically talented mechanic.

He broached the topic when they returned to the quinjet after dinner. "I'm thinking it's almost time for us to be done here. Unless there's something I'm missing."

"I think you're right," Sam said with a sigh. "Tomorrow we'll have been here a full week, and I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm tired."

"How long will it take to finish what we've been doing?" Steve asked quietly.

"We should be able to finish tomorrow unless another big one rolls through," Tony replied.

"I don't think the command center will have anything for us once that's done," Toni added. "They've never been entirely sure what to tell you to do. Will Vision be leaving with us?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"He's always kept himself busy, so I thought I'd ask. You'll have to warn him so he can say goodbye to his admirers."

"Vision has admirers?" he asked with confusion.

Toni glanced around, puzzled that no one else seemed to know what she was talking about. "You mean you haven't noticed that he's very popular with the Tijuanans? They call him the Purple Angel."

Tony couldn't hold back his surprised laugh.

"Purple angel, huh? That's a good one," Sam said, grinning. "We'll definitely have to use that again sometime."

"So we'll finish our work tomorrow and leave after that?" Jordan asked when no one else spoke.

"We'll stay tomorrow night," Tony replied, casting a glance at Steve and wondering if he knew they would be having a chat. "Just in case something comes up. If not, we'll leave Saturday morning." He considered mentioning that he wouldn't be going with them, but he wanted to tell Rhodey first.

"Sounds good, boss," Sam teased. "Now, are we playing something else, or is someone going to sit out?"

"I'll sit out," Tony said immediately, rising from his seat. "I have some calls to make."

He went out and sat against the landing gear, enjoying the residual warmth of the day and the sound of the water against the helicarrier's hull. He sent a message to Doc T about leaving, then called Rhodey, slightly perplexed when there was no answer. He wasn't bothered enough to ask Friday about the goings-on at the compound, however, because there were plenty of reasons Rhodey might not pick up, and it certainly wasn't an emergency. He didn't leave a message.

Pepper, by contrast, answered almost immediately. "Hey stranger," she said lightly.

"Hello, pretty lady," he replied warmly. "I'm calling to warn you that your days of peace are numbered."

"I wasn't aware I had any," she retorted, her smile evident in her voice. "You'll be here soon, then?"

"Saturday sometime, probably lunchtime or later," he said easily. "I won't impose on girls' night."

"Am I going to have to fluff up my couch?"

"Only if you know something I don't about the penthouse. I hope you'll abandon your solitude and join me for a few nights."

"I will if you drive me to headquarters in the mornings."

"Deal. I'm already planning to put in a few appearances, do some work in whatever space in R&D I can commandeer."

"I have a call with the board on Wednesday. Can you find room in your busy schedule to sit in?"

There was a hint of command underneath the teasing tone, and he responded accordingly. "Sure, I think I can manage that. Is it in the morning so you won't have to let me out of your sight until it's finished?"

"Fortunately, yes. I couldn't have moved it even if I wanted to, I'm that busy next week."

"You won't have to change a thing on my account," he assured her. "Though I hope we'll have time to talk about some things. Future stuff."

"We can do it over meals, so I can be sure you're eating," she teased. "Does Rhodey know you're abandoning him yet?"

"Not yet," he admitted. "Don't roll your eyes at me, I tried to call him before I called you."

She took a deep breath and sighed. "I should go. There are things I need to try to finish before tomorrow."

"You can't get your people to do them for you? You know, what's that word, delegate?"

Pepper laughed. "I think I know how to delegate. But as you know, there are some things you have to do yourself."

"If you must. Good night, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"I'm not sure I want to know what prompted that comment," she said wryly.

He shrugged carelessly even though she couldn't see him. "It's a general word of advice. Not that you need advice from the likes of me."

"No, I don't. Good night, Tony," she said fondly.

"Good night," he echoed. He grinned at nothing for a moment, grateful that she was giving him another chance.

Doc T's comment about deciding what he'd want to do before meeting his end was floating in his mind again and, though Pepper topped the list and always would, there were other things that had begun to surface. Making sure Peter and Harley, and the Barton kids, wouldn't have to worry about paying for college or whatever else they decided to do was one, though doing it in a way that May wouldn't suspect Peter's secret ties to the Avengers might be a challenge. Establishing a fund for kids like Maria to pay their medical bills or school expenses or whatever was another possibility. He needed to re-examine his lengthy list of real estate holdings and update his will, for sure.

He was sending a note to Bill about the latter when Rhodey called back. "Sorry I missed you, we were busy."

"How dare you have a life devoted to things other than answering my calls," Tony said dryly. The background noises made him tilt his head in curiosity. "Where are you?"

"Quinjet. We just finished tackling the next HYDRA location."

"You went on a mission without me?" he pouted.

"We've gone on three without you now," Rhodey retorted. "And I thought you were sidelined until that investigation goes away."

"I am. How'd it go?"

"Fine, but there wasn't much to find. Seems like they cleared out most everything a while ago, only left a couple of guys behind to keep up the ruse that it was an active base."

"Shit, they've gone to ground. I mean, they'd be incompetent if they hadn't, with how long it's taken us to deal with them, but-"

"We hoped they'd be that incompetent," Rhodey said grimly. "But you don't hide your organization that long without knowing how to keep things on the down low. We can talk it out when we're all back together. What did you want?"

"To tell you I won't be coming back with the others. I'm going to spend time with Pepper, do some company stuff, that sort of thing."

"Ah. Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Do you know yet when the others will be back?"

"Should be Saturday, as long as all hell doesn't break loose."

"Right."

"I should go, you sound tired."

"So do you. Be careful out there."

"You too."

He stood and stretched and nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned around and Dr. Tanya was right there. "Are you real?" he blurted, then felt foolish for asking.

She merely held out her hand and he hesitated before touching it just enough to confirm her presence.

"Sorry, that was stupid. You startled me, is all."

"I apologize, I should have announced myself. I knew you were preoccupied, I heard you finishing your conversation."

"Are all shrinks so good at sneaking around?" he asked sourly.

She laughed. "I wouldn't even say I'm good at sneaking around. I came to tell you that Steve is willing to have a conversation tomorrow evening. I take it you're still willing."

"Yeah, we might as well get it over with."

"Then I'll tell you what I told him: between now and then, I want you to think about what you feel needs to be said or done or answered in order for your relationship as teammates to be on firmer footing."

Tony digested that for a minute, then said, "I'll think about it."

She didn't say anything else at first, just studied him silently. "How are you doing?" she asked finally.

He shrugged. "Being an undertaker sucks, but we're almost done. I'm looking forward to spending time with Pepper. Had some nightmares, but I was due for some, so whatever. No big deal."

She nodded. "Good," she said simply. "I will see you tomorrow. If you need to talk before you come back to the compound, you know how to reach me."

"Yes. Thanks."

She left as quietly as she'd arrived, and he went inside the jet, where the others were between rounds of whatever card game they were playing. "I won't be going back with you," he announced without preamble.

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked curiously.

He explained his plans, and they accepted it without giving him a hard time. "Have fun with Pepper," Sam said with a grin and a wink. "You want us to deal you in?"

"No thanks." He had things to think about.

They only played one more hand, then Jordan claimed victory and they all got ready to sleep. Tony remained awake for a while after the lights went out, his thoughts mostly stuck on how the conversation with Steve might go. How did he want it to go? Did he really want the excuse to cut ties with the team completely? Or was that just the backup plan? He was going to take a step back from the Avengers, no matter what, and it would start with this second visit to Malibu.

Their last day on duty in Tijuana passed unremarkably, and they retrieved the last body they could locate around mid-afternoon. There were still dozens of people unaccounted for, but some of the other volunteers who had worked earthquakes before said that was normal, that many of the missing were simply at a different shelter than their families and friends and would be reunited as soon as a full census of the displaced people was complete. The alternate explanation, that the missing were among the as yet unidentified dead, remained unspoken.

When all was said and done, the casualty count wasn't as high as it felt when they were confronted with the seemingly endless supply of people to retrieve, and it seemed certain that the rapid rescue of those trapped prevented the number from being even higher. Still, three thousand one hundred forty-seven was a staggering number, and as soon as Tony heard it he tried to forget it in favor of the six hundred sixty-eight rescued with the aid of his scanning system, two hundred and ninety-eight of whom had been rescued by the Avengers directly.

When the quinjet returned to its spot on the deck of the helicarrier for the last time, it was both hard to believe they'd been there a week already and hard to believe it had only been a week. After they all trooped to the carrier's workout facility to shower, they went to dinner.

When the others got up from the table to return to the jet, Tony checked his watch and exchanged a wordless look with Steve, who nodded and gestured for him to lead on. It was time.

Dr. Tanya's door was open, so Tony knocked lightly on the door jamb before stepping inside. The doc had been assigned a suite large enough to have a table and chairs in the front room; the door to the bedroom was closed.

"It is good to see you both," she said warmly, waving them toward the chairs at the table as she finished pouring water into a mug from her electric kettle. "Tea?"

"No thanks," Tony replied as he sat with his back to the wall and the doorway to the hall in his peripheral vision. Steve echoed the sentiment and closed the door before sitting across from Tony.

Dr. Tanya sat between them with her mug and her tablet. "Thank you for coming," she said, settling back in her chair. "Two ground rules: nothing shared here leaves this room without the consent of the other person, and all comments should be made and received in good faith. Agreed?"

They nodded obediently.

"Who would like to go first?"

Tony looked at Steve, who met his gaze without flinching. "Go ahead," he said. "I think your list is longer than mine."

Steve frowned and glanced at Dr. Tanya, who nodded encouragingly. "No matter what else happens, I want you to understand that I can't agree to support the Accords until the revisions are final. You got upset when we talked about it in New York, but I'm not budging on that," he said, seeming to gain confidence as he spoke. "I'll hide out again if I have to."

Tony was a little surprised that he'd started there, but it wasn't news. "I know," he said carelessly. "Hell, if the revisions get canned entirely, we'd all need to go on the run or retire. Better that than have to hunt you down when I agree with you on some of it."

"If you agree with me even a little bit, why did you sign?" Steve sounded frustrated.

He shrugged. "Because it made the most sense at the time. Documents can be amended, like I told you in Berlin, and the benefits seemed greater than the costs. And I thought you'd agree."

He could read something like surprise on Steve's face. "Would you have signed if you knew I wasn't going to agree?"

"Knowing only what I knew at the time? Probably."

"Are you saying you wouldn't sign them again if you knew what would happen afterward?" Steve persisted.

Ah, he'd caught on to what Tony hadn't been saying. Even so, he hesitated before admitting, "Not without certain assurances. I would have asked for some of the things we're trying to change now to be changed before I'd commit. And I appreciate your help on the edits, by the way, though I've always wondered if you realized how much we actually agree on where they're concerned."

"I haven't always, no," Steve confessed. "But at that meeting, I heard from several people on the committee how you'd been fighting for some of these changes since the beginning, even before you contacted me about it. I was . . . surprised."

Tony gestured dismissively. "I have hidden depths. But you and I both know that what happened wasn't just about the Accords. It was about one person in particular." Despite time and distance, something in him shied away from speaking the name.

"That's true," Steve said staunchly. "And you were wrong to go after him. It's not his fault, he wasn't in control of his actions."

"I'm aware, and if you'll remember, I wanted you to sign in Berlin so he could be treated in the U.S. rather than be shipped off to a Wakandan prison. I was on your side there, but you couldn't see it because you were too blinded by your devotion to him. How's that for irony? I was trying to help you."

"Help me? By promising Ross there would be consequences? Do you really expect me to believe that was helping?" Steve shot back.

Tony took a deep breath and tried to explain. "He wanted to take custody of Barnes-and you-under the guise of making sure there were consequences for what happened. I had to assure him there would be consequences as dictated by the Accords. Letting him think he'd get your gear in the process was a necessary ruse."

"So you weren't going to hand over the shield to the government?"

Tony scoffed. "Do I look stupid to you?"

Steve was silent for a moment. "That doesn't change the fact that you shouldn't have gone after Bucky the way you did in Siberia."

"Maybe not," Tony agreed. "But I don't think even you can fault me for reacting poorly to the way I found out the truth about my parents' deaths."

Steve's silence lasted longer this time, and he shifted uneasily, seemingly unwilling to look in Tony's direction. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "I should have told you."

"Damn right," he replied shortly. Part of him waited for the excuses to start.

"I'm sorry," Steve repeated, finally looking up at him.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly when it became clear that Steve wasn't going to say any more. "And look, I don't agree with what you did, but I understand why you did it. With Barnes, with the Accords, with all of it."

Steve nodded jerkily, glancing down at his hands briefly before looking at Tony again. "I think I'm starting to understand why you do things the way you do," he said slowly. "All this time, I had a certain opinion of you . . ." he trailed off, his expression somewhere between perplexed and sad.

"What changed?" he asked, curious in spite of himself. He wasn't sure that question would lead anywhere good, but he trusted Doc T to intervene if necessary.

Steve shrugged and chuckled half-heartedly. "I started paying attention to what was in front of me instead of what was in your files. What S.H.I.E.L.D. had on you before we met wasn't very flattering."

"I'll bet. You got, what, press coverage from my many missteps and their intelligence from right after Afghanistan? Plus when I was dying. Yeah, that wasn't my best look. Honest question, did the stuff you saw include the sex tapes? Jarvis tried to clean up after me once the whole Iron Man thing started, but once something like that is on the internet, it's never really gone."

"N-no, I don't recall seeing anything vulgar," Steve said, flushing with embarrassment.

"That's comforting, I guess. But that also explains why you thought I might mind being seen in my very modest sleepwear."

Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat, seemingly unable to look straight at him after that disclosure.

Tony took pity on him and changed the subject slightly. "What made you finally look past your terrible first impression?"

Steve took the bait gratefully. "Rhodey said some things when you were in the hospital, and that got me thinking." He glanced at Doc T. "And I've been talking with Doctor Tanya. She has helped me understand some things about myself and how I get along with people, especially the team."

That Rhodey had taken Steve to task was new information, but Tony wasn't really surprised. He'd been on the receiving end of Rhodey's scolding more times than he cared to count. "So does that mean you're not going to be on my case about everything?" he asked, a touch of sarcasm creeping into his voice. It really would be too much to hope for.

"Not necessarily, I still think Ultron was a terrible idea," Steve was quick to reply, then he turned hesitant. "But I was hoping . . . I mean, I was wondering . . . is it possible that we could try to start over?"

"Like, pretend none of this happened?" Tony asked doubtfully. There was no way he could be on board with that.

Steve frowned. "Not quite. More like turning over a new leaf. I'll start by not jumping to conclusions about what you're up to."

"That would be nice."

"And if you could slow down a little, long enough to explain what you're doing and why, that would help a lot. You're at least six steps ahead of me sometimes and I feel like you think I'm judging you when I ask questions to understand what you're doing."

"Well, yeah, when the question sounds like an accusation, I'm going to think you're being critical."

"I'm working on that. You can call me out on it, if that would help."

"I will definitely take you up on that." Not that he needed an invitation to push back, but knowing Steve would listen changed things.

An awkward silence followed, and then Dr. Tanya spoke up for the first time since they'd started. "Thank you both for your honesty and cooperation. Did either of you have anything else you wanted to say?"

Tony shook his head. "All I wanted was an apology with no excuses."

"I've said the things I wanted to say," Steve said, then looked to Tony. "So . . . a fresh start?" he asked as he stood up and held out his hand.

"Clean slate," Tony affirmed, rising from his seat and shaking Steve's hand firmly.

"It is a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Stark," Steve said formally.

Something in him felt a little lighter. "Please, call me Tony."

A/N: The epilogue will be posted next weekend.