When Tony finally lands back on the tower. Steve's hearing and senses alert him that there's a crowd waiting for him.
Just great.
It's like he's a teenager again. Nick Fury stands at the center, arms crossed, looking disappointed (his dad). Steve stands in Tony's body off to the side, looking tired and resigned (his mom) and Clint and Natasha stand looking on with watchful and wary (Jarvis and Ana).
But he's in no mood.
"What." He snaps, looking down at Fury. "What the hell do you want."
Fury doesn't blink, "I've had enough of your attitude."
Tony actually scoffs out a laugh, "oh? You've had enough of me? I've had enough of you!" He gestures to his dirty bloody uniform that's still so fucking tight he could scream. He drops the vest top part that he'd carried off the plane onto the ground. Then he points at his leg"I've been shot, so if you will excuse me—"
"You're behavior is unacceptable for someone of your position—"
"And what position is that!" He snaps back, "glorified team leader who actually has no autonomy and has to obey orders like a fucking dog!"
He hears himself sigh.
Fury eyes him steadily, then he turns to the others, "what happened."
Natasha's quick. "What do you mean?"
"What happened?" Fury presses. "This is not the Steve Rogers I pulled from the ice."
"He's fine." He hears his voice say. "He's just been stressed. He'll be fine."
Tony has a lot to say to that load of shit, but he doesn't get the chance. Fury turns towards Steve in his body and getsures to him, "and you? You've been suspiciously quiet for the last couple days after your interview."
"We've been busy." Natasha tries again. "Can we schedule this meeting for another time? We have things to do."
"Like?"
"Like none of your damn business." Tony says through gritted teeth.
Fury narrows his eye at him, "Jarvis?"
Yes, Nicholas?
Tony snorts, the sound loud in the quiet room. He'd forgotten he'd programmed Jarvis to do that.
Fury tilts his head at him, "you think that's funny?"
"It's your name, isn't it." He shoots back.
"You don't usually find Tony's antics funny."
That shuts him up. And he remembers for the thousandth time that Nick Fury did not become head of Shield by being an idiot. But suddenly he doesn't care. (Probably Steve's heightened emotions) What's Fury going to do? Fire him? Great.
"I like anything that knocks your ass down a peg." He smirks. He's not sure how it looks on Steve's face but Natasha just sighs like he's not helping their case.
"I want an explanation, and I want it now."
"Maybe this is just who I am." He smirks, "the real me."
He hears himself (Steve) sigh and he looks over there to see himself pinching the bridge of his nose.
Fury catches the exchange and shakes his head, "you know, maybe I would believe you if it wasn't the biggest shift in a matter of seconds. And also—" he gestures to the rest of the team, "they didn't seem so unsurprised." He shifts and waves at Tony's body where Steve resides, "he should be crowing. Laughing, enjoying your little tantrums." Tony narrows Steve's eyes, "but he's not. He seems tired. So something's up. What happened on that last group mission?"
He's starving. The sudden need to eat rages through him. "Fuck!" He yells out, grabbing at his stomach, "Who cares! I'm starving—" he stomps forward towards the common room kitchen, ignoring the range of expressions watching him as he gets to the fridge and yanks the door open.
"I don't think you guys quite understand the situation." Fury tries again, "until I get answers, none of you will be sent on missions—"
"Okay." Natasha says with an eye roll. "Sure. Threaten that. And then when the aliens or robots or supervillains appear, you'll change your tune."
Tony's mildly impressed as he grabs the closest thing that resembles a snack and he doesn't have to make.
The lid pops off easily and he's reaching into the jar with his fingers, ignoring all etiquette when he hears his own voice, "you're not—"
He looks up, his own face staring at him with a wary expression and eyes on the jar.
Tony looks down at the giant dill pickle in his hand. Clint eats them and so does Bruce.
But Steve is looking at him with caution and Tony wonders why. Fury is watching them as are the other two. "'You're not' what, Stark?"
Fury asks.
Steve switches gears. "Those pickles are Clint's."
"That doesn't start with 'you're not'." Fury says with a raised eyebrow.
Steve gets annoyed, the expression clear on Tony's face. "Okay. You're not supposed to be eating Clint's pickles, Steve."
Tony doesn't understand what he's trying to get across. These aren't just Clint's. Tony buys all the groceries (willingly) and Steve knows that.
But he misses the bigger misstep.
Tony has never called Steve 'Steve' in front of anyone. Ever. Barely even to himself. Only recently really.
Fury's eye widens further. "Steve?"
"I mean Rogers." Steve corrects entirely too late.
Now the whole team is confused and tense. And Tony is still holding a pickle in Steve's hand that is now dripping on the ground. The smell is getting stronger and his stomach turns.
You're not going to like that.
The words Steve was going to say now ring clearly in his head. Of course Steve would know. The smell is too much. He throws the pickle into the trash and closes the jar, shoving it back into the fridge and washing his hands. But he is starving. He's starting to feel deranged from hunger. And all the idiocy in the room and Fury and a thousand other reasons including the fact that his leg is killing as it heals and it itches like crazy.
It's suddenly overwhelming again and he's sick and tired of the mood swings. Of all the ways he never feels like he's in charge of this body. That it's always running him.
"Pepper."
He looks up, and there she is. Radiant and observant, suitcase in hand and eyes on him. "What's going on?" She asks lightly.
"Do you know what's wrong with them?" Fury asks her, gesturing to the team.
Her eyes narrow, "are you here for a solid purpose?" Pepper's voice is slicing. "Is there a mission you're briefing for? Or are you attempting to control their personal lives as well as their professional?"
"It's my job—"
"To ensure the team is fighting fit and ready to face any mission. Is there a mission?"
"Not right now, but—"
"Good. Then if you'll excuse us. I need Tony for some SI issues. Clint and Natasha have that hospital visit in a few hours and I need to get them prepped." Her eyes land on him, she takes in his beaten up appearance and concern flashes, "and Steve is obviously needed in medical. He arrived back from a mission and you didn't even let him go see medical first? Isn't that against protocol?"
"Captain Rogers is—"
"Not on the clock." Pepper says so sharply and firmly that the room goes silent. "So if you will please leave. If there's a mission, feel free to call first." She looks up, "Jarvis? Please have Agent Fury's car pulled around."
Tony wants to laugh. Calling Director Fury 'Agent' is quite the sassy move.
And effective. Fury rolls his eyes and steps towards the elevator. But of course, because it's Fury, he gets the last words. He turns to Tony, thinking he's talking to Steve. "You're a legend and an icon to people around the world. I hope this new jackass attitude isn't permanent. Or what a disappointment you'll turn out to be."
His rage is so fiery he imagines his ears smoking.
"What the hell!" Clint snaps, "why would he say that?"
But Tony knows why. "I've been telling him off on the phone."
He hears his own voice, "Tony, why?"
"Because he treats you like shit!"
"It's fine—"
"It's not fine!" He snaps back, "weren't you ever going to tell us about all the shit he makes you do?"
"Why?" Steve shrugs, "it's normal."
"What stuff?" Natasha asks.
"It's not normal." He bites back, "it's indentured servitude."
That makes Steve laugh, his own voice chuckling before he shrugs, "maybe not normal. But I'm used to it. It's how it's always been. It's what's expected of Captain America."
"That's a persona." He growls out, he can feel Pepper's eyes on him. He knows what she expects. And she's right. "Not who you are."
Steve looks tired, "what's the difference?"
Pepper steps in, "we've talked about this."
"I know." Steve says, Tony's eyes tight as he fakes a smile, "I know."
"What stuff?" Clint echoes Natasha's question.
"Just normal team leader stuff." Steve answers, "and some other things dealing with the fact that I was on ice for 70 years." He jokes.
Tony wants to gape. Steve just joked about it.
"Like what?"
"You're hungry, right?" Steve asks, ignoring the second question, "you need to eat, it will help you heal faster."
Tony nods, suddenly the hunger appears again. It's like his body relegates priorities.
"You don't like pickles?" He asks, gesturing to the jar.
"I love pickles." Steve admits, "but ever since the serum they're too strong."
Tony nods, understanding because of how strong just the smell was to him.
"Are missions always so awful?"
The question brings the room back to a halt. He stares at his own face and watches as it becomes guarded. "What do you mean/"
"I was fighting." Tony starts, "and it was awful. Everything was awful. Is it always like that?"
"Like…?"
"Awful."
He watches Stvee roll his own eyes. "Can you be more specific?"
"Too loud. Too painful. Too much adrenaline. The fight or flight response which is only set to fight times three zillion."
"I'm used to it."
"How?"
"How does anyone get used to anything?" Steve bites back. Then he points to the fridge, "eat."
Tony obeys, turning back to the fridge.
"Aren't you going to ask about our little side quest?" He looks back up at Natasha who is watching him with a raised eyebrow.
He grabs a bottle of some drink and opens it, chugging half before nodding, "how did it go? Was I right?"
Clint is frowning but in a half amused way.
"You were right."
"I knew it!"
"Right about what?" Steve and Pepper ask at the same time.
"The cause." Tony says, chugging the other half and tossing it. Then grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl and taking a bite, "the switch."
Steve widens Tony's eyes and steps forward, "what?"
"On the last mission—" Natasha starts, sitting down on the arm of the couch, "we were in that exhibit and remember I told Tony to stop touching stuff." He rolls his eyes as she smirks, "well, surprise, Mr. Ego over here didn't listen. So he knocked and cracked a cursed artifact."
"Tony." Pepper sighs.
"I didn't mean to!" He whines, "it was an accident."
"That priceless artifact was known as a Power Seeker."
Tony frowns, "what does that mean?"
"It means that the people believed that whoever was in possession of that artifact, could steal other people's strength."
"Excuse me?"
Natasha's grinning now, "you held the artifact. You were in possession of it. It's real."
Steve looks as confused as he feels, "come again?"
"It searches out the greatest power." Her grin is so wide, "so. When you came in contact with someone else—" she smirks, "someone more powerful than you, you jumped ship."
Tony blinks. "I what now?"
Clint is pouting, and he can't process why. His adrenaline is starting to itch again.
Pepper is suddenly gasping, "no."
Natahsa nods, "yes."
She eyes Steve and puts a hand over her mouth. Tony's face morphs into confusion and concern because Steve is as lost as he is. "Explain it again like I'm an idiot." He bites out.
"You are an idiot." Clint says with a thumbs up.
"I will rip your head off, Barton." Tony snaps back.
He's back to pouting.
"The artifact, for whatever reason, activated something inside you. I have my theories. But staying on point, you 'took possession' of it's power. Therefore when you and Bruce made contact, it caused you to switch to his body because Bruce's body, and I assume the underlying Hulk, is more powerful than you. And…" she drags off, looking over to Steve who still looks perplexed.
And then it dawns on him.
He jumped from Bruce's body to Steves….
"No." He breathes out.
Natasha nods, "oh yes."
"No." He shoots back, "that's—-" not possible? Not reasonable? Insane? Is Steve more powerful than the Hulk?
No. There's no way.
But…
He's now experienced Steve's raw power in battle. The undercurrent of never ending energy and healing. Maybe if they were talking about who could lift a city block, Steve would lose, but if they were talking all over power? Power of mind, body, will, and heart?
Shit.
Not to mention Steve's powerful 24/7. Bruce's power resides simply in the Hulk. Which he never experienced (thank heavens).
He looks over at his own face. Steve's still confused. "No way." He says again. But this time it's not in disbelief. It's in awed acceptance.
Steve gestures, "what? I don't get what you're saying."
Then something makes Tony laugh, he points at CLint, "that's why it didn't work with you!"
The archer frowns deeper, "yeah, yeah. No need to rub it in. But maybe if you'd shaken my hand before Bruce's then you would have swapped with me."
Tony rolls his eyes, "maybe." He looks back over to Steve in his body whose face has gone pale and wide eyed. There it is.
"No." He hears himself say, "no way."
"Way." Natasha grins, "put it on your resume."
"Okay—" Tony snaps, butting back in, "we figured out the problem. What's the solution?"
He sees himself frown and has a lot of questions about that but Natasha responds. "I've gotten the artifact into Jarvis's database and he's been taking samples and trying to figure out a cure or antidote or whatever."
"So, what?" He asks, shifting his weight as his leg pulses with pain, "we just wait?"
Natasha nods, "we wait."
—-
He wakes up gasping, panting for air as he fights the urge to swing his fists at the now invisible assailants.
The dream had been so visceral. So real. Like a memory replaying live in his mind as he'd slept. The mission. He'd practically relieved it. His leg aches with the memory of being shot and he clutches it, trying to drag in more air.
Long minutes pass before his blood starts to settle. He stumbles to the kitchen, downing water. Glass after glass. Then he yanks open the cabinet to where he keeps packages of sweets that Pepper rolls her eyes at. He sinks to the floor, trembling hands open the little plastic and he bites a huge chunk off the pastry, trying to get some sugar into his system.
He makes it through 8 before the shaking starts to alleviate.
The wrappers litter around him, as do crumbs, and he reaches up, snagging the glass of water he'd left on the counter and downing that.
Everytime he closes his eyes he sees their scared or lifeless faces. He sees the flash of the gunfire burning into his retinas and he smells their blood and his own. His fists knuckles ache and his chest heaves, trying not to remember.
When Captain Rogers sleeps, it is not very deeply
Tony finally understands the true full nature of Jarvis' words from his first night in Steve's body. Of course the normal inconveniences of Steve's body had kept him from sleeping deeply. Too loud, too hot, too much energy. But this was something new.
This was like a nightmare.
No. Not like a nightmare.
It was a nightmare. A real one. Steve's brain keeping everything in visceral full detail. No sight left unseen and remembered for torturing its owner as the brain tried to process through the trauma after the initial danger had passed.
Has every night after a mission been like this? Then a worse thought occurs. Does this happen for multiple days after every violent mission?
He can't do this again. His own anxiety ratchets up in Steve's body and he's trembling again.
"Jarvis—"
Yes, sir?
"Call Steve."
It's 3am, sir—
"Please." He grits out, "just do it."
Yes sir.
