Steve groans as his mind is pulled from the deep sleep. He blinks open his eyes only to snap them closed again at the bright flashing lights. They stop flashing.
Captain Rogers
Jarvis' voice says, sounding regretful
I'm sorry to wake you
He sits up, rubbing at the skin around the arc reactor, the glow filling the room dimly, "what is it? What happened?"
Mr. Stark is requesting your presence.
Steve tilts his head in confusion, 'What? Is he okay? Did something happen?"
It seems he is suffering from your same post-mission… issues.
Steve grimaces at Jarvis' polite avoidance of the term nightmares.
"Oh." He sighs, "Okay, tell him I'm coming."
Thank you, sir.
"Tony?" Tony looks up, seeing his own body walk towards him, concern on his face. "Are you okay?"
Tony looks at the pile of food packages near him, the broken glass from where his shaking hand had dropped the glass and the puddle of water around it.
He's embarrassed. Embarrassed he'd had nightmares and called on someone else to help, embarrassed to feel so out of control. And he gets mean when he's embarrassed. "Your life fucking sucks."
He glares up, trying to get a reaction from the always calmly composed man. But his own face stares back with an expressionless facade.
"Say something."
His own voice sounds tired, "what do you want me to say?"
"I wan't you to tell me that you don't think your life fucking sucks."
The starkness of that hits both of them. Sure he'd meant it as a jab. But he'd also subconsciously wondered if Steve thought so too. Was he as unhappy as Tony was in his body?
He almost thinks Steve will leave, he looks back at the elevator like he might make a break for it. But then Tony watches something fascinating happen. He watches Steve fold inward, shoving his own self aside for the "mission". To help Tony. The only reason Tony knows it's happening is because he is intimately familiar with the facial expressions and the body language of who it was happening on.
"What can I do to help you, Tony?"
"I'm not the one who needs help, you are."
"In what way?"
"Because your life fucking sucks."
"Tony."
"Tell me it doesn't."
"Tony-"
"Tell me you like your life, Steve."
There's a snap of annoyance, "Tony-"
"Your life. Tell me it doesn't fucking suck."
There's a cold resignation on his own face, "you want me to lie to you?"
The way that Steve's admission feels like a slap to the face…
"Shut up." Tony hisses. "Shut up."
Steve rolls his eyes, "did you call me here for a reason?"
"You…"
Steve waits, patient.
"Is every night after a mission like this?"
"Yes."
Tony gasps, clutching at his chest, the anxiety of that thought, of having to relive mission after mission in crystal clear detail night after night. "How.." he chokes out, "how do you deal with it?"
Steve crouches down, meeting Tony's eyes, "what do you mean? Deal with what?"
Tony eyes him incredulously, "what do you mean what do I mean? I'm asking how you deal with all the nightmare-"
When Captain Rogers sleeps, it is not very deeply
"You avoid sleeping."
Steve shakes Tony's head, "I don't really do it on purpose. Not anymore."
The honesty is startling. Like Steve's decided that since Tony's privilege to everything that there's not much point in holding back.
"But it was on purpose originally?"
Steve nods slowly, "yep. During the war. Didn't do great for morale when I would wake screaming on the battlefield." His eyes widen but Steve's looking away, face calm and still crouched. "So I figured I could just relax but not sleep. Kind of became habit."
"But… you do sleep some. Right?"
Steve nods. "Yeah, it's better now. Kind of. The missions are less bloody, less…" Tony watches the grimace on his own face "less traumatizing."
"Less traumatizing how?"
Steve huffs, but it's without humor, "you ever hold in an 18 year old's intestines? Ever taken a helmet off a fellow soldier only to find brain splattered underneath? Ever watched guys get mowed down or vaporized and not had a clue or chance to save them?"
Tony's throat is dry.
"Yeah, what we do can be hard. I've seen some vicious things in this century…" he shakes his head, "but it's not the same."
"You can still picture all that in perfect detail. Can't you?"
"Yep." the pop or the 'p' makes Tony wince.
"How do you not go crazy?"
Steve looks over, tilting his head, "I already told you. That's not an option."
"Did-" he frowns, shrugging, "therapy not help at all?"
"Did therapy help you after the cave?"
"I never went." Tony admits
"Why not?" Steve asks the question like he already knows the answer.
"I didn't want to talk about it."
"And if Fury had forced you to go anyways would you have given in and talked about it?"
Tony's response is slow, quiet, since he now understands where Steve is leading him. "No."
"No." Steve says flatly, "well, guess we're more alike than we think."
"But you're better than me. You know the right thing to do."
Steve stares at him in disbelieving shock, "excuse me?"
"You know it's better to talk about things. So why didn't you?"
"Hypocritical much?"
"Hey, I never claimed to be the fucking saint of America."
"Neither did I, Tony!" Steve snaps at him, "I'm just some guy! I just wanted to fight for my country! I just wanted to fight for what I believed was right!" He's clutching at the arc reactor in his chest and winces, then he takes a deep breath, "I didn't actually sign up to be-" he gestures at Tony who is inhibiting his body, "this. I was supposed to be one of thousands. Not the only one."
Oh yeah… Tony forgets that sometimes.
"But you are better than me." Tony says weakly, somehow feeling like saying that will be more insulting to Steve than trying to be conceited. "You know better."
Steve sneers, an expression that Tony is familiar with making but dislikes knowing who it's coming from. "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. How could I ever be better than that?" Steve looks at him. "You and I both know my intelligence has nothing on yours. I'm not rich. I'm the farthest thing from a playboy as humanly possible, and I don't even know how to be a philanthropist. Don't sell yourself short, Tony." Steve says with a tight expression. "Was there something I can help you with? If not, I would like to go get some sleep-" his voice falters and then he clears it standing.
But it's too late. Tony hears the implication. While I still can.
"If you had the choice-" Tony hears himself asking, "would you switch back? Or would you stay?"
A sort of longing crosses over Steve's face, but then it's shoved away, schooled behind calm indifference. "We don't have a choice, Tony. You know that."
And then Steve is walking away, getting in the elevator and disappearing.
And Tony bends forward, crushing Steve's face against his knee because that's not a damn answer.
Jarvis' voice is more than mildly irritated once a few minutes have passed.
I was under the impression you'd ask me to awaken Captain Rogers for something useful. Helpful.
Tony flicks Steve's eyes to the corner where one of the indiscreet cameras resides and her glares at it.
What was your purpose in calling him up? So I can log it for study later as my analytics don't seem to be able to comprehend.
Tony flips off the camera and gets up, grabs shoes, his keys and then leaves, heading towards the docks.
It doesn't take too long to get there at that time in the morning and soon he's staring at giant ships docked, the silent night only broken by the quiet lapping sound of the water.
No one else is around and so he looks around, trying to figure out something he can do, anything to tire him out and take his mind off everything.
He sees the giant chain resting and he stalks over to it. He starts to haul it towards the edge of the pier. Throwing it over into the water and watching it sink, the sound of metal scraping against the pier grating his ears even with the dampeners.
Once its entire length is hanging over the edge, Tony leans over, using Steve's immense strength and starts hauling it back up, stepping backwards and backwards and backwards as the now dripping wet chain rises and scrapes against the pier as he drags it backwards. Then he rests it around the giant metal bitt, before walking back to the edge and grabbing more chain, hauling tha section.
Over and over until the whole chain is back on the pier.
But he's still angry, fuming, sad, conflicted.
So he tosses the chain back over and starts again.
Steve sits on the edge of the bed.
"If you had the choice, would you switch back? Or would you stay?"
He tries to relegate his emotions like he used to when they were always heightened.
What does he miss about his body?
He misses…
His strength?
Maybe. Of course it's helpful in a fight. To help others. He's saved people with that strength. He should miss it.
But that therapist wasn't lying about everything. We can't lie to ourselves. At least not forever.
He likes how good his eyesight is. That's a good thing.
I am sorry about having to disturb you while you slept, Captain Rogers
He looks up, "Jarvis? Why are you apologizing?"
I am probably the one most attune to your previous sleep schedule- Steve winces, - and so I was remiss to have to wake you up
"Oh…" Steve shakes his head, "it's fine. You did what you were asked."
I am sorry all the same
Steve doesn't know how to respond to that.
Might I ask what is keeping you from sleeping at the moment?
Steve grimaces. He likes Jarvis, but Jarvis is still Tony's creation. No telling what loyalties he has coded in.
"Just thinking." Steve responds, "I'm going to sleep now."
He lays down and closes his eyes.
He doesn't fall asleep.
Jarvis is not fooled, but the AI stays quiet.
Tony's practically panting when he rests on his haunches and hangs his head, sweat dripping from Steve's brow.
His chest is expanding and contracting quickly as his heart tries to regulate back to normal rhythm.
"Bad night?"
Tony jerks Steve's head up, finding an old man staring at him. "What?"
"You look like you had another bad night."
He swallows and tries to think of a response. Another. This man looks at him with some familiarity, so he probably knows 'Grant'.
"Yeah..." he rasps out, "bad night."
"You going to tell me this time?"
"Tell you?"
The man laughs, "sure, sure, we'll just keep pretending."
Tony's lost, doesn't have the context for this conversation.
He sinks down to the pier, letting his legs extend out in front of him.
"You go to that VA I told you about?"
Tony frowns, "VA?"
"I don't give a shit what lies you give me, kiddo. I know a veteran when I see 'em. Now get yourself some damn help, kid. You can't keep coming here and wearing your body down."
Something about Steve being called 'kid' makes him want to laugh out of disbelief, but he just looks at the guy, "I already have a therapist."
"They seem to be doing real well for you."
That makes Tony frown.
"What makes you think I'm a veteran?"
The old man eyes him with amusement, "you mean beside the textbook PTSD behaviors and the way you line your boots up and fold your coverall like it's going to get inspected?"
Tony rolls his eyes, "okay, let's say I am."
"You are." the man shoots back.
"Why do you care?"
That makes the man frown, "why wouldn't I care?"
"Because you don't know me."
"And that means I'm not allowed to care?"
Tony stays quiet.
"You went and fought for your country. A country made up of 330 million strangers. You don't care about them?"
"That's different."
"Why?"
"That's…" he echoes Steve's words, "my duty."
"And who said it was your duty?"
"Uncle Sam." Tony snaps out snidely. Then sighs, tipping his head back. "Just the right thing to do."
"For you?"
"Yes."
"And do you regret that choice?"
Tony thinks back to everything Steve had said. Did he regret it? "I don't know."
"Well then, know this. I care when I see people in pain. Emotional or otherwise. No one on this job is fooled by you, kid. You're barely old enough to rent a car and you're acting like you've got one foot in the grave. I'm not saying everything will be fixed by going to the VA or accepting some help, but damn boy, it just might help. At least get you out of that 6 foot hole you're digging."
"I don't have suicidal tendencies." He bites out, hoping against hope that that's true. That this man hasn't seen Steve be self destructive.
The man says nothing, looking at him with a knowing raised eyebrow that gets on Steve's very sensitive nerves. "What?" Tony grits out, "what have I done that's made you think I would hurt myself?"
"Beside the elongated longing gazes at the ocean? The way you work like you wish your body would give out? Or the way you come here and pretend you're not one of the most well-known soldiers in history?"
Tony blinks, eyes stuck on the man's face who is looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
"You know?"
"I know."
"Who else knows?"
"I don't know. No one else has mentioned it."
"How…?"
"History buff. Also seeing you single handedly haul an anchor up kind of settled it for me."
"Oh…" Tony sighs, "how long have you known?"
"Just a couple weeks or so. That's why I've been hounding you about getting help."
"I have help." Tony says reflexively.
"Oh yeah?" The man asks, "who?"
"My team."
The man nods, "oh… okay. Are you guys close? You all share secrets and have sleepovers and talk about your superhero struggles." The man raises his eyebrow higher, "because I've seen the press about you guys and it doesn't seem so hunky dory."
Tony glares at the man.
The man gestures widely, "who do you have, Steve? Someone who cares about who you actually are. Instead of who you were. Who you had to be?"
Tony doesn't know what to say to this. He doesn't know. He doesn't know.
"I have…" he tries, "I-"
"Get help, kid." The man says calmly, resting a hand on Steve's sweaty shoulder. "And if your teammates aren't taking care of you, get some new damn teammates. You're not at war anymore. Stop acting like you don't have a choice."
Then the man is gone and it's back to just him and the quiet lapping of the sea against machines of war.
"Natasha told me."
Steve looks up, surprised he hadn't heard Bruce's approach. Although… he shouldn't be surprised. He doesn't have serum enhanced hearing.
"Told you…?"
"About the power switching."
Steve frowns and Bruce laughs. "I've seen Tony frown a thousand times but somehow you make it look different." The mild mannered scientist sits and gently knocks his knuckles against the table. "Maybe you and the other guy should spar."
"Maybe the other guy can pulverize me and call it a day."
Steve startles at the hand that lays on Tony's wrist, getting his attention to flick back up to Bruce's slightly shocked and concerned face, "What? Why would you say that?"
And suddenly Steve remembers that he needs to be mindful of his words. That without his heightened emotions being constantly in check, he's more of a loose cannon, more prone to emotion filled sentences that just seem to make people blink in surprise or confusion or anger.
"I just mean that the strength thing is unfounded. If the Hulk had been the one to get the "curse" it wouldn't have passed to me. You're much more powerful." Bruce's eyes are too observant so he tries to give a trademark Tony Stark smirk to allay any concerns, "I just miss being over 6 feet tall."
Bruce snorts and relaxes and Steve is relieved to have changed the subject. "Where is the body stealer?" Bruce jests back, "I haven't seen him."
Steve shrugs, "not sure. He hasn't come down yet."
"Natasha said there should be an antidote soon."
"Yeah, hopefully."
"I'm sure you'll be glad to be back in your body…?"
The inflection is intended to be a probing question. Perhaps lead to inquisitions based on Tony's very loud and very insistent yelling that being in Steve's body was abhorrent.
But Steve has learned his lesson. He doesn't hesitate, grinning in an amused relaxed way, "oh yeah, for sure."
—-
Tony doesn't waste any time. He gets back to the tower, cleans up and heads straight down to the medical ward. The nurses seem surprised as Steve Rogers isn't usually done there willingly or seen rifling through medicine fridges but he ignores their looks, finding the vials that he's looking for and heading off to his lab.
Which presents the first problem.
Jarvis.
Who is apparently still ticked at him.
"Open up."
My apologies, sir. The AI says without sounding apologetic at all. The lack of Stark Identifications means the doors won't open.
He glares at the doors. It's true he hasn't tried to be in this particular lab since the switch.
"Override. You know it's me."
That will take me several moments, sir.
His eyes narrow, "okay, then take them."
The AI has no response, but the keypad begins to flash briefly which he knows is Jarvis' way of insinuating he's hard at work.
Two minutes later he's rolling his eyes. "Hurry up."
Almost through. Your security systems are very well programmed.
The AI responds with a flat tone. Tony knows a backhanded insult when he hears one.
Then the door clicks, signifying it's been unlocked and Tony shoves through. Except, problem number two, he forgets whose body he's in for a brief second and the heel of Steve's hand cracks the glass door, setting off the alarms.
He growls in frustration "turn it off!"
Jarvis manages to do that in 15 seconds when Tony knows he could do it in three.
Shall I alert the authorities not to come rushing to your aid, sir?
"Who the hell pissed in your particles?" Tony snaps, "what? What do you want to say? Say it!"
The AI stays quiet.
Tony goes to slam the bottles down but then remembers the door. He lightly sets them with a clink and starts rooting through his supply closet.
He should have known it was bad when Pepper came knocking on his door personally.
"Uh-oh." He says in reflex, "did the interview get out?"
She shakes her head, "no, no it's not that. It's something else."
"Else?"
"Tony always finds a way to erase it from my calendar so I'll forget. Usually I catch it, because he teases me about it so that way I remember and can't actually get mad at him. So I don't forget because even though he wants me to forget, he doesn't let me forget because he knows I would be very angry if he did actually let me forget. So I don't. But I did. And I can't even blame him because he's been a bit preoccupied being freaky fridayed."
Steve blinks, "uh, what?"
"It's Howard's birthday."
His throat runs dry. "Howard… Stark?" Of course he feels like an idiot asking. Because who the hell else would she be talking about, but she graciously mentions nothing about his idiocy and nods.
"Yes. And usually Stark Industries does something. Donation in his honor, flowers at the grave, or a myriad of other things. But Tony was 21 when he died. And it's been 21 years…" she trails off, covering her face, "and so I had planned something extra without telling him. Something I thought would honor his father but take his mind off the fact that he's moving into the year where he has lived longer without his parents than with and…" She grimaces, her lips tilting downward, "I'm really really sorry."
Maybe he's lost on a lot of the context. But she's apologizing to him. Who is in Tony's body. A light bulb clicks on.
"Somewhere Tony was supposed to be in the public eye?"
She nods, hand still covering her eyes.
"Where?"
Finally she looks at him, "the World's Fair site. It's running for the whole year and I had curated a special pavilion dedicated to his father, and pulled out all the stops to make it like stepping back in time and being back at the world's fair in the 40's…" She winces, "I started this before you were really on the time. I didn't even think-" she huffs, "That psychopath Vanko had destroyed a section and I told Tony not to worry about it, that I would oversee its restoration and I did this and now…"
Steve feels oddly unbalanced. "It looks like the world's fair…"
She's still grimacing, "yes."
"From my time."
"...yes…"
"The one where I met Erskine."
Her voice rasps out another weak and regretful, "yes."
"And you want me to go there."
"It's the opening dedication ceremony." She says softly, "but… I can cancel it."
"It's today."
She nods, "August 15th…"
Right. Howard's birthday.
She looks ready to just say she'll cancel it but he knows that it's not fair to her. She didn't plan their switch. She'd done something nice for Tony and he wasn't going to ruin it for her. "Do I have to make a speech?"
He's more surprised by the emotional crack in her voice, "you'll do it?"
"Of course, Pepper."
She tosses her arms around him in a hug, "oh, thank you, Steve! I swear it will be so quick. Once the speech is done and ribbon cut then you can pretend to get a call and just leave!"
He just nods and listens as she describes what she needs.
He gets a few calls. Mostly from Pepper, but he's too distracted to answer. If it's an emergency she would come storming down on him. A few hours later, Tony stretches his neck in a move he's used to doing when bent over a lab table for hours.
But his neck moves smoothly and without pinch or pain.
He sits up, and rotates his shoulders and nothing. Smooth as butter.
He lets out a soft laugh, the sound deeper as he realizes that with Steve's body he could work and work and work and never tire or get sore. His brain had been so focused on his work he hadn't even thought about the over sensitive way his body had felt.
In fact, Steve's sensitive fingers and sense of smell had been a boon as he'd mixed and handled delicate chemicals.
"What do you know…" Tony breathes out, "maybe it's not all bad." He looks up at the ceiling and raises an eyebrow, "Can you tell Steve I said that? That I said it's not all bad?"
He swallows one mixture and then stabs a syringe into the port he has in the crook of his left elbow. The sensation is a cold feeling floating in his veins as it takes effect.
Captain Rogers is not in the tower at the moment
The AI says with a bit of humored ire.
"Where is he?"
Attending the opening and dedication ceremony of the new pavilion at the World's Fair.
Tony's eyes go wide, "the what?"
Miss Potts has spent the last almost year building it after the destruction by Vanko.
Shit, that's right. He forgot she was doing that.
"That's today?"
The AI takes a second longer to answer, his recent sarcasm replaced with a sense of gravitas.
Yes, today. August 15th.
He's standing and running out the lab door before he can think of a response.
Steve straightens the suit Pepper had picked out for him. Twiddles the required (or at least they seemed to be for Tony) sunglasses in his hands and tries to decide whether he was going to stay and explore or bolt as Pepper had given him permission to do.
She was over to the left, nodding as someone spoke at length to her. The speech had been short and sweet, something he was grateful for. He'd tried to inflect as much of Tony's natural air for humorous timing into it. He's not quite sure he managed. But hopefully the date of his "father's" birth, could be an explanation for why his voice shook, and not the fact that he'd looked up at that moment to see the monorail train circling slowly. Just as it had all those years ago when he and Bucky had walked under it.
He should just go.
Someone was talking to him. He was Tony Stark (of a sort) so of course someone was trying to talk his ear off but he smiled politely and made an excuse, hoping to head towards the car that he knew Happy had pulled around back.
But as he walked his eyes caught on the stage. A hologram of Howard Stark was demonstrating the flying car. Complete with the crack and fizzle and crash back down to earth.
"I did say a few years didn't I?" The hologram jests.
Steve is drawn like a moth to the flame. People don't stop him as he walks towards the 'ghost' of who is supposedly his father, but in truth a dear friend.
The recreation is magnificent. Pepper or her engineers must have spent quite some time studying the footage from this event to recreate it so well. Technology is one of the few things in this century that does continually blow his mind.
Then he starts hearing the whispers.
Captain America is here
Captain America is walking around
Did you know Captain America was going to be here?
Steve finds his face schooled into nothingness when his own body settles beside him.
"I already gave your speech." He says flatly.
His own body huffs with a laugh as Tony looks at him. "I'm well aware. I got a stern reminding from Pepper that she tried to call me half a dozen times, which is true. And hell, not like I could give it anyways. I'm you. You're me. We're fucked. It's fine."
Steve is reminded how eloquently Tony can ramble. "Fine." he repeats.
"I didn't know she was doing this." Tony uses Steve's hand to gesture around. "I may have taken a peak during construction, thought she might be up to something ridiculous or nefarious but I trust her so I didn't pry too far. She likes to surprise me because so little can. I'm a boring sort of present receiver when I can either guess what's coming or buy it before they can. So when I see she has a really good idea or one she's excited about… I do my best to let it happen."
"That's…" Steve struggles to pick a word at first, "nice of you."
"I'm not nice." he hears his own voice say. "I'm sorry about this morning,"
Steve scrubs at Tony's jaw with the back of his hand, still not used to his facial hair and sighs, "I'm sorry too."
"What the hell are you apologizing for?"
He doesn't even think before he speaks. Another detriment in being in fast talker Tony Stark's body. "I don't need an apology."
Tony looks over, and Steve is surprised to see genuine concern on his own face, "why?"
"Because you don't ever have to apologize for telling me the truth."
They're quiet for a while. The giant timer in front of them counts down slowly until the next repetition of the hologram show is supposed to start. Steve guesses the only reason they haven't been mobbed is because people are unsure how to act seeing just the two of them together, talking calmly.
"Okay." he hears his own voice say, "then here's another nugget of truth for you. I don't hate you."
Steve turns, looking up into his own face that seems open and sincere. "I know you don't." He lies.
"Okay, well that interview you gave, gave me the impression that you think otherwise-" He grimaces.
"Didn't know you knew about that. Pepper?"
"Yeah. She was royally pissed at me." Then Tony heaves a sigh, Steve's large shoulders going up and down, "that recording… I was drunk."
"You're an honest to a fault drunk, Tony."
"Maybe. And maybe that's what I thought then. But I'm telling you right now… I don't feel that way."
"And the next time we butt heads?"
"I'll have some 6'4' perspective."
"And I'll have some 5'4" perspective."
"Eat shit. I'm 5'9"."
Steve laughs, and he hears his own laugh echo back softly.
"You know…" Tony starts again, "I was working in the lab for hours today. Out of habit I thought I'd be all sore and cricked up. You know, I'm in my 40's it happens. But then of course, I wasn't. Not even a tingly feeling in my elbow where I had leaned on it for hours. And I thought… That's kind of nice."
Steve takes that note for what it is. An olive branch of the strangest sorts. "I'm glad my enhanced body could be of service."
"Ew." Tony huffs, "don't say it like that."
Steve chuckles, "you're always reading into things. I just meant I'm glad it was something positive."
"It was." Tony starts walking slowly towards the next exhibit and motions for Steve to follow him, "tell me other things you like about your serum enhanced self."
"Is this you-"
"This is me nothing." Tony cuts him off. "I'm not being an asshole right now. Humor me."
There's a brief silence as Steve walks alongside his own body and thinks. "I like my eyesight." He answers, "had shit eyes before. Nice to see colors, clearly, depth perception and all that is off the charts. Really great."
His own head nods as Tony listens. "I've noticed. And?"
"No asthma. No illness. No worrying about my heart. That was something I never knew was an option when I was a kid. It was always one thing after another. So the freedom from imminent death by a slight breeze is nice."
"You really were a twig. I've seen pictures."
"Speaking of that, height, obviously. It's been helpful. And the strength of course."
"Of course."
"If sleeping weren't such a-" Steve thinks of a word that's neutral, "factor. Then I would enjoy the fact that I have a ton of energy. I don't actually need that much sleep."
"Damn the horrors. And your memory"
Steve huffs, "yeah."
"What else? If anything."
"You know I can learn something by watching it?"
Tony turns his face, eyebrows up in his hairline, "what?"
Steve nods, noticing the curious glances that follow them. "Because of my memory and just the way my brain calculates and thinks at a fast pace. I can usually watch something, understand the mechanics, and copy."
"Whoa. You think I could? In your body?"
"I don't know. Try learning something."
"Like what?"
"Literally whatever, something simple. I learned how to embroider the other day after watching a youtube video." He waits for a jest. For a tease from Tony. Things were going too well and he wanted to upset the balance before it upset him.
But Tony's open expression didn't shift. "That's cool. My mom loved to embroider. I would always find little things on all my clothes and stuff. She knew I liked Guns N' Roses. Have you-"
"Yes, Clint's played them before."
"Right. Anyways. She didn't really appreciate their music but one day I found a gun embroidered on the inside lapel of one of my suit jackets, roses growing out from the muzzle. She was so excited about it and I thought it was actually pretty cool. Sometimes it wasn't cool when she would embroider my name onto stuff and I would snap at her for it." Tony looks down, shuffling his feet a moment before shrugging Steve's shoulders heavily. "Now I have every single item she's ever embroidered on cataloged and stored in a secure vault. And I cut that gun and roses out of the suit and have it sewn into every new suit I find myself wearing. Not a replica of it. The actual one."
"I'd love to see some of her work." Steve says quietly, "if you're willing."
"Yeah, sure. Whenever."
They pass by the glass case of some old styled mannequin wearing a ridiculous outfit and start circling back to the stage.
"Whoa!" a teenage voice says in whispered excitement from somewhere to their right. "It's Tony Stark! And Captain America!"
Which makes Tony stiffen and then quicken his pace. Steve has to speed up to keep up with Tony's shorter legs.
"Why don't you correct people. Or me?"
"About?" He knows, but he asks anyway.
"Your name."
"It's just what they associate me with. That is my name to them."
"But it's not the name you want to be called."
"Who cares what I want, Tony?" He shrugs Tony's shoulders now, "that's not what's important."
A hand stabs across the area in front of him, making him halt his progress. He looks up at his own face, now annoyed. "What do you want to be called?"
"Steve."
"OooOooOhhkay." He hears his own voice make a mocking sound. "Was that so hard?" "Maybe that's why you're life fucking sucks because you don't ever allow yourself to have wants. You don't ever put yourself first."
"Back to this, huh?" Steve asks, as they end up back in front of the stage, the countdown nearing zero.
"You know…" Tony starts, "I don't think I ever truly understood you. When I learned about you and everyone 'oohed' and 'aahed' about your signing up to sacrifice yourself for a good cause I just thought, "guy got to be stronger than any other man and more skilled, why are we praising him as the sacrificial lamb'."
"I never asked to be praised."
"I know." Tony admits, "I actually do know that. And I understand it more now. But not until now, when I walked the proverbial or actually the incredibly literal mile in your shoes, I understand now why people look at your story with such starry eyes."
Steve feels a bit caught off guard. "Why?"
"You signed up, not knowing if it would work. In fact… you signed up knowing it had gone to shit the first time. And you did it so you could do what you wanted to do." Tony eyes him. "That's the last time that happened right?"
"The last time what happened?"
"The last time you chose to do what you wanted. Everything else since then has either been what you were allowed to do aka the USO Tour, or what you felt like you had to do aka the crash in the arctic."
"I chose to lead the commandos."
Tony considers this, "true. But is finding your best friend tortured and experimented on and realizing it's happening at other factories and wanting to rid the world of evil really a choice? Or is it a compulsion for you? My bet is compulsion."
The show starts again and they walk back towards the ceremony space that has mostly cleared out.
"It was the right thing to do."
"Which to you is like a flashing neon sign." His voice takes on Steve's captain quality, "'You must follow me or the morality of the world as you know it will crumble'."
Steve sighs out a laugh, "something like that."
"So maybe even choosing to sign up for the war wasn't a choice. That was a compulsion."
"I know you're joking right now." Steve says as they head towards the parking area, "but don't water down my life to that. I did choose. I chose to sign up and believe in Erskine. And I chose to go on the USO tour instead of being stuck in a lab. And I chose to go after Bucky and then Schmidt and I chose to crash that plane even though I really really didn't want to. I chose to get back in the fight with Loki and-" His voice catches and he clears it, "I'm choosing to be here now."
"Are you?" Tony asks sharply. "Are you choosing to be here?" He emphasizes the word. Then emphasizes the next, "now?"
"I chose to crash the plane-"
"Which does not equal choosing to lie dormant for over half a century and be forced to fight aliens a month later."
"Two weeks."
"What?"
Steve sighs, "it was two weeks."
"You got found in April."
"And became conscious in May."
"Sheeeeeeze." Tony hisses out, "Fury is a real mothe-"
"It's fine. If I hadn't have joined up when he asked I would have been fighting in the streets when they showed up. I would never sit that out."
"Because you don't deserve a moment of peace?"
"Because there's no peace for me if I'm watching people suffer."
"Bleeding heart."
"Ice Queen."
Tony chokes, his mouth hanging in shock making Steve's face look particularly unintelligent. "You did not just make a Frozen reference."
Steve tilts his head, "what's Frozen?"
"Oh geez. You joked. You teased me. I'm wounded and thrilled all at the same time."
"Hey!" A voice calls, "Tony Stark! Captain America! Over here!"
They turn to see a reporter getting a snapshot of them, and before Steve can be surprised, he feels an arm land over his shoulder and the weight of it. He looks up, in shock as his own body is smiling widely for the camera. The flash of the picture goes off and he blinks.
"What the hell just happened?" He asks.
"The beginning of many many changes ahead." Tony says, an eyebrow raise following, "you choosing to join me on that journey?"
"And what exactly does this journey entail?"
"Who the hell knows?"
Tony watches a strange and steady change throughout the day. Because he purposefully does not antagonize Steve (as much as possible, he is only human) Steve relaxes some. And when Tony suggests a team dinner and possibly a movie or something equally as nauseating after, Steve doesn't turn tail and run.
Bruce, Natasha, and Clint all fall into line really easily, joking and acting like the idiots they most likely are, but he sees the surprise as Steve only hesitates a bit before joining in. And the bigger shock when Steve says something painfully antiquated and Tony says nothing. No jokes or mean pokes at his unmodern level of knowledge.
And even though he knew it before, he's seized with the realization that half the reason Steve hated this place was because of Tony.
It was clear as day that Steve desired friends, a place to belong. But Tony had always put spikes on his seat or rained on his parade or whatever other equally sad expression for making the man miserable.
So now… Now he wouldn't.
That night, as he lays trying to fall asleep, he feels a sense of peace at his decision to stop being an asshole.
And a strange different sensation of protection.
"Get help, kid. And if your teammates aren't taking care of you, get some new damn teammates. You're not at war anymore. Stop acting like you don't have a choice."
The old man's words echo in his mind and he realizes that the guy was right.
Then a different thought wormed his way into his brain.
He hadn't thought about the sensitivity of his skin or clothes or hunger or emotions all day. He is grinning as he stretches on the bed, "Jarvis, what was the code of the last batch I took before leaving?"
Tonic 23 and IV Mixture number 17, sir
"Produce it in a small batch. It works."
And there, finally after many days of obvious annoyance at his creator, the AI sounds pleased,
Very well, sir.
"I'm okay."
Tony blinks. Then he blinks again. Then he swivels his head slowly back and forth looking for the imaginary audience to the comedy he didn't realize he was performing in. Then he looks back at Steve. "Excuse me?"
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm okay."
"I spent like 6 hours in a lab making this."
"And I really appreciate it. But-" Steve smiles, back in his own body and looking at him with a kind face, "but I'm okay."
"It helps take away all the overwhelmingness. It helps."
Steve nods, "yes, you explained that. And I appreciate it. I'm sure in the future there might be a cause for me to take it. But for now, I'm alright."
"You're alright with your skin crawling and your ears bleeding and your not sleeping?"
Steve rolls his eyes, looking over at Natasha who is pretending not to witness the now Tragedy they're performing in. "You know, I just don't see those things that way. While not always comfortable-"
"Miserable-"
"They keep me sharp."
"You avoid the cold spots on the floor Steve. You go to the shipyard to-"
Steve's eyes widen and Tony shuts up. Natash is now no longer pretending. "Shipyard? What shipyard? Why?"
"It's nothing. Those are minor things. And I'm used to it." It's a half lie. Tony can sense it. But he's now made a stupid promise to himself not to try to push Steve away by insisting on his own.
"Fine." he snaps, "your loss."
Steve nods, looking grateful, "thanks."
Tony rolls his eyes
Tony's at a restaurant downtown, very private, very elegant. No one knows he's here except Pepper who is running behind.
Except Nick Fury. Who walks in quietly and sits in Pepper's seat.
"Wanna third wheel?" Tony jokes. "Also, why are you here? And how are you here? I just reserved this table this morning."
"That's a lot of questions. How about you answer mine first."
"Oh geez-"
"I need to know."
"Body swapped." Tony sighs out. Now that the threat is neutralized, there wasn't much point in hiding it, "we had somehow swapped bodies after I touched an ancient artifact. And-" Tony leans forward, feeling his voice shift to the one that lacks his usual humor and is simply a sharp knife, "you treat Steve like a real shit. You're a bastard you know that? And I know that doesn't hurt your feelings. You're just doing your job, and manipulating Steve into your little red white and blue weapon is part of keeping the world safe, but your methods suck. Steve isn't like me, or Romanoff, or Barton. He's not Banner. He's Steve. A genuinely nice guy who would do what you wanted even if he knew you were manipulating him as long it was for the common good. So now I have your number, cyclops. And don't pull shit like that again with my teammates. Also, that therapist? Terrible. Just awful. She needs the boot. And another thing-"
"Just one?" Nick Fury sighs.
"Steve is no longer your little dog and pony show for press. Yes, he's the best at it. I agree, but he's not beholden to the team. Train one of the others or god forbid, trust me with some press. But stop putting the weight of the Avengers and Shield and world on his shoulders."
"But he can handle it. Far better than any of you."
Tony nods slowly, "I know. I know that. But don't."
"What happened when you were in his body, huh? And I believe it, because he was acting just like you."
Tony knows that's an insult, but he ignores it. "Much easier to see how one is being treated when you're actually that person. He not only gets walked over, he basically lays down and waits for someone to come stomping."
"You make him sound pathetic."
"No." Tony bites back, "it's not pathetic to want to help. It's not pathetic to be the kindest person in the room. The most willing to sacrifice. It's-" his memory flashes to the day they figured out why they were switching. "It's true strength. To lay down on the wire so others can crawl over you."
Fury's eyes widen a bit. He remembers the explosive fight on the helicarrier."
"You sound like a bleeding heart."
Tony grins, swirling his glass. "Ice Queen actually."