Tony looks at his schedule and narrows his eyes. He has his finals and projects and a thousand other things to finish before the school year ends in less than a month for him.

But there's a small 36 hour break starting Friday at 2 where he's not technically required to be on campus if he's smart about it.

And there's three things scratching at his inability to rest.

One, the conversation he'd had with Peggy.

Two, something his dad had said offhandedly while he was glaring at the pod that had refused to leave Tony's mind. Maybe his dad has already forgotten and moved on, but the words had stayed etched in Tony's brain. And now he has an idea.

And three, Rumlow. His dad is so close. They've been able to narrow down and backtrack and collect almost two dozen cases of negligence, illegal dealings, and nepotism coverups. They've called Matt and have him working the case and they're so close.

Which makes Tony nervous. Last time Rumlow lashed out at Steve just because of his hurt pride, and Steve had almost died. Tony has no idea what Rumlow will do when this shitstorm comes to light.

So Tony books a flight.

—

Clint's head pops up as the shop doorbell rings. He smiles as Steve approaches and slides out of the booth.

"Hey Steve."

"Hey," Steve settles in, and looks at Clint with a head tilt, the red hearing aid towards him. "You wanted to meet?"

Clint's nodding, "yeah, I was thinking—" he pauses as his uncle approaches. "Hey Uncle Ricky."

The guy smiles and returns the greeting, "you guys eating today? Or just using this place to talk shop?"

Clint feels a jolt of surprise when Steve looks over at the counter and thinks, "can I get a pesto grilled cheese? With smashed and grilled marinated artichoke hearts?"

His uncle Ricky's eyebrows go up, but he doesn't comment on the fact that usually Steve always turns him down. "Course, Rogers. Coming right up. Clint?"

Clint's staring at Steve, something about him different, "uh—" he looks back at his uncle. "Yeah, me too."

"Two pesto grilled cheeses, coming right up." He leaves and that's when Clint realizes it. He's in short sleeves. He hasn't worn short sleeves since before his 9th grade year. At least… he hasn't worn them to school. Until now…

"What?" He blinks up, catching Steve's eyes. His eyes trail down to Steve's exposed skin and he hears the kid sigh. "I'm allowed to wear short sleeves."

"But you don't."

"Well I do now." Steve snaps. When he looks up in surprise, Steve leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. It seems defensive but the expression is calm, "why hide it? Why be too hot and uncomfortable? People already know, right? So who cares."

And something about that. The nonchalance of it tickles at the back of Clint's neck.

"Okay." He responds slowly.

Steve rolls his eyes, "you're the one who wanted to meet Clint."

"Oh. Right." So Clint pulls it together and leans forward. "The gang comes home in less than three weeks. And you graduate a month after that. I think you and me should plan something fun for when we're all here in the summer. I don't think anyone is going anywhere or doing anything. Tony's gearing up for his senior year at college—" Clint's voice dies in his throat at the sad wistful look that crosses Steve's face, "what?"

Steve blinks, tilting his head again, "what?"

"What was that face?"

"What face?"

"You looked… sad?"

Steve's eyes widen, but then he smiles, a calm and reassuring smile, "just can't believe Tony's almost done with college. It's just crazy."

And Clint wants to believe that is it. But he has a gut feeling it's not. But Steve seems at ease, so he keeps going. "So, we plan a fun outing or something? I bet the group would be down for like a week trip to Montauk, or maybe even up somewhere in New England? We could go as a big group, bring everyone? Howard would be down for supervision he said—" Clint says it with a laugh. All of them are adults now, but he knows it makes all the parents feel better to know someone else is there.

Steve nods, "yeah," he smiles and looks back over his shoulder as the bell rings and Laura walks in. "Sounds fun."

Clint smiles as Laura approaches but her eyes are on Steve. He watches in confusion as Laura, who is more shy than probably any of the other girls, leans over and gives Steve a hug, surprising Steve as well, and then she cups her palm around his cheek and smiles so genuinely at him it makes Clint's chest ache at the fondness there. "Hello, Steve."

Steve's eyes are confused but he smiles back, "Hey, Laura." There's almost a question at the end of his greeting. "You okay?"

"I'm good." She turns and smiles again, "hey."

Clint smiles back, knowing he must be wearing a confused look too. "Hey."

"Two sandwiches— oh, Laura! You hungry?"

"I'm okay. Just ate."

Steve's phone starts to ring and he answers, "hello?" He sighs and then rolls his eyes. "Fine. I'll come early. But then I can't come tomorrow—" he goes quiet and then glances at Clint and looks tired. "Okay." A pause. "Okay." Then Steve's voice gets annoyed, "I said okay, Howard." When he hangs up he looks at the sandwich in front of him ruefully. "You think I could get this to go?"

His uncle chuckles, taking the plate back.

"Everything okay?"

Steve nods, gathering his backpack, "yeah, Howard just has a meeting rescheduled and my appointment with him got pushed up." When he brings his backpack over his shoulder his burn scar is glaringly apparent and it makes Clint sick. But his face shows nothing even as Laura grips his hand tighter under the booth table. She's seen it too. But not nearly as often. And somehow the years separating the incident don't soften the blow to know how he got it.

"I'll see you later." Steve says with a wave, taking the container his uncle hands him. "Bye Laura." He's gone with the jangle of the bells and Clint turns to Laura, "what was that?"

She looks at him, "huh?"

"You hugged Steve. I mean, not that that's bad. Just unusual."

Clint watches in surprise as Laura's eyes soften and she squeezes his hands. "Oh.." she almost blushes as she scrunches her nose. "No, it's just something I heard from Peggy about their prom night." She smiles and looks back at the door. "He really is a good guy. You know?"

"Prom night?" She nods. He narrows his eyes, "Sam said Steve had a strange night."

Her eyes widen with surprise, "he told Sam?"

Clint huffs, "I don't know. That's just what Sam told me when I went looking for him—"

"Looking for him!?"

"He went to the bell tower—"

She covers her mouth, "he didn't climb that did he?"

Clint frowns, "yeah. He did." Then he tilts his head, still very confused, "I'm lost, what happened at prom other than Peggy punching that jerk?"

Laura laughs softly and lays her head on his shoulder, "just something unusual. But sweet all the same."

"You're being cryptic."

She kisses his cheek and takes a bite of his sandwich. "What did he say about your plan?"

Clint knows a diversion when he hears one, but he just sighs and leans back, "he seemed cool with it."

Laura smiles, "good. That will be fun."

Clint nods.

—

Tony sets his stuff on his bed, and then checks Clint's room. He's not there so he starts to head down to the lab. He's about to hit the elevator button when he freezes. Sam's voice reaching his ears.

"—-turned her down."

He backs up, skittering around a corner so Sam won't see him. That will raise too many questions for what he's doing home since his dad doesn't even know he's here yet.

His dad's voice is incredulous, "he what?"

"He told me he turned her down."

"Why would he do that?"

"Howard."

"What!" His dad says with a huff, "they're both adults now—"

Tony's head tilts at the words. What are they even talking about?

"That's my son, Howard."

His dad sighs and then Tony can hear him press the button to the elevator. "I'm just saying. If Carter wanted to, why didn't he?"

Tony's brain short circuits, realization of what they're talking about.

"Said it wasn't right. That doing it when he isn't sure he'll get to marry her isn't fair to her."

Tony's throat gets tight. What Peggy said—- her whole conversation with him now makes perfect sense. Why he would have had to tell her what he was feeling if he turned her down. He wants to groan but stays silent.

"Geez. What a kid."

"I was so proud of him. For so many reasons. Like, I wouldn't have been surprised or even upset if they had, you know? Teenage emotions run high and I don't even know if I would have turned my girlfriend down if I was in Steve's situation… but…" Sam's voice gets sad. "That's why I'm here. I need to know what you and Erksine are working on, I know I won't understand most of it—" the elevator dings, "but tell me you're making progress? He's… Steve is—" Sam's voice gets muffled as they step into the elevator, "—I think he's expecting to die—" the doors close and Tony sinks to the ground.

—

Natasha stretches for a few minutes after the rest of the girls have left. They're big final recital of the year is approaching and since she has the lead already as a sophomore, she has taken extra precautions to make sure she's carrying her own weight in rehearsals. She's been told that scouts tend to come to these bigger productions and her nerves dance with excitement every time she thinks about it.

But… her nerves get harried when she thinks about the possibility of the Royal Ballet in London, or the Russian Ballet.

Those are real possibilities, or maybe dreams of possibilities… but they would be so far away. She's not sure she could dedicate herself to something while being so worried about the people she's left behind. Yelena, Steve, James…

Her breaths falter as she keeps her eyes closed, she would hate to be so far from James. He's… she thinks of the way he smiles at her, and the way he's always bumping her shoulder with his nose to get her attention and how he always seems to sense when she's going to be cold and has an extra sweater with him.

Her heart aches at how much she would miss him. She already does and she's only a few hours right now. Not across a whole ocean.

And Yelena, her little sister by choice. The way she's growing and becoming so strong and independent on her own.

But Natasha isn't fooled completely. Both of them lived in that house with that psycho woman. Natasha knows that stuff doesn't just disappear because they've had a few good, safe years.

They need each other.

And Steve.

Her brother by choice too. She watches as James watches over him like a hawk. Noting each change or lapse. Even if she was brave enough to ask James to give up his life and move to Europe… she doesn't think either of them could do it with Steve the way he is. He's fragile even as he pretends he's not.

And Natasha feels the fear radiating off James whenever the two are together.

She wonders if Steve can feel it and just ignores it, or is oblivious. So used to their overzealous protection that he's numb to it.

A door slamming has her neck snapping up and a senior walks into the studio, eyeing her with a raised eyebrow. They nod at each other and go about their stretches. Natasha sighs, tying up her ribbons and tossing the shoes over her shoulder.

One day at a time.

—

Steve holds the rail as he walks down the school steps.

"Here—" Angie says, appearing out of nowhere, "let me help."

Steve sighs as she grabs his cane, "I do this everyday you know."

"Yeah." Angie says, "and?"

He pauses, she looks at him, as if wondering why he's against accepting help. "Thanks."

"No problem," she responds with a smile, waiting at the bottom until he's on solid ground. She passes him his cane and he takes it, straightening his backpack. He takes a step and his hip wobbles, making him stumble. He reaches out, catching his hand on the cement brick wall that rings the school grounds and steadying himself.

It's painful. Like a persistent ache. Something that's happening more na s'more, even with the cane. His joints are just tired.

"Okay." Angie says with a little huff, "I'm walking you home."

"What?" Steve says, "no, I'm fine."

"You almost just face planted."

"I did not—"

"I said almost. And it's getting more often. What if you trip and fall on the subway tracks? Uh-uh. No way. I'm helping."

"Angie, I'm fine—"

"You're kind of a mess, Steve. Let's be real."

"Ouch."

"Truth hurts." He frowns at her but her expression is light and teasing. She doesn't baby him or act over protective. She's just matter of fact, "let's go slowpoke."

"I'm coming." He huffs.

And so she becomes his constant companion walking home from school each day. And while he wants to feel embarrassed at needing the help… he just doesn't. He's glad for it. It does make it easier.

—-

Bucky waves as Monty walks into the room. He points to his phone and mouths 'speaker, sorry' as his hands are fiddling with the last pieces of an engine he's trying to build.

"—I'm just saying." Clint's voice comes out in a huff. "Nothing is normal for Steve, I get it, but him just wearing short sleeves—"

"It's almost summer—" Natasha's voice cuts in, sounding like she's walking outside. "It's getting hot—"

"This is Steve, he doesn't show off his scars—"

"He ripped off his shirt in gym class freshman year, Barton." Natasha says with a laugh.

Bucky can sense Monty's interest going up at the statement.

"Yes, but that was provoked! He's now just, I don't know, he's different!"

"People change." Natasha says with a sigh. "Hell, I was planning on being a total loner that whole summer we met. Then I got assigned you psychos and here we are."

"Guys—" Bucky says, setting the engine pieces down with a clunk, "Clint, he wasn't at school, he was at Milo's. Maybe he changed after school."

"No," Clint says, as if annoyed they would doubt him, "I checked with that kid. The one Steve hangs out with. Scott? Says he's been wearing them for awhile now. And he…" Clint's voice changes a bit, more hesitant, "he thinks it's weird too."

"Weird how?" Natasha asks.

"Weird like…" Bucky can tell Monty is waiting for an answer just like he is. "Weird like he doesn't care anymore. Like it doesn't matter. Because…" Clint's voice cuts off.

"I think you're being dramatic." Natasha snaps. But there's a strain to her voice too.

Bucky's trying to keep his calm, he and Tony are the dramatic ones when it comes to Steve. Clint isn't usually. So the fact that he's saying this… No. That's not it. It's something else. Steve's almost 19 and he's just becoming more sure of himself. That's all. But he can't help asking, "what's Howard say?"

"He's practically a ghost in his lab. I heard a boom down there the other day and I smelled smoke for like three days. But I don't know. We don't talk about it much. Whenever I bring it up he gets stressed."

"Did Tony get there okay?"

"Tony?"

Bucky pauses, "yeah. Tony. He flew out just a bit ago. He should be there."

"I'm not at the house." Clint says slowly, "why was he coming?"

"I don't know, just told me he'd be back Sunday."

And somehow that leaves them all uneasy.

They hang up soon after and Bucky just stares at the mini engine pieces on his desk. He's not sure how long he stares at the hunk until Monty's hand rests on his shoulder. "Steve okay?"

Bucky looks up and sees the genuine concern on Monty's face. He'd been there, patiently waiting in the hospital as Steve had been struggling to survive through the gunshot wound, and he and Steve had stayed close, texting and hanging out when Steve had come to visit. So Bucky knows the question is genuine.

"I don't know. Clint seems to not think so."

Something unreadable crosses Monty's face. Then he settles into his own desk chair and pokes at the pile of wires and scraps of metal at his own desk. "Clint was saying Steve seemed more relaxed?"

Bucky nods, "yeah, but isn't that a good thing?"

Monty looks up at the shelf that hangs over their desks, a picture is taped there, Monty had said it was a family photo. "Did Steve ever tell you about my aunt?"

Bucky shakes his head.

Monty looks surprised but then smiles, "well, my mom's sister, she was a really cool lady. But she struggled." He nods to himself, his eyes trained on a face in the photo. "And it wasn't always a secret. Sometimes you could really tell she was having a hard time. But maybe a month or so before she…" he pauses, his face morphing into something sad and resigned, "she seemed to be getting better. At ease. Relaxed. She smiled more. You know? She seemed like she no longer had a care in the world. Just… we were thrilled you know? Thought it was a good sign." Bucky feels the way his throat is dry and tight, "turns out she'd decided what she was going to do and she was giving us whatever energy and happiness she had before she left." Monty's not smiling, but his face is relaxed, "just to be clear I don't think Steve is mentally where my aunt was. That's not what I'm trying to imply. But he could be just trying to ease the stress. Make it seem like everything's fine. Try to be at ease and seem okay so people don't worry. That's something Steve would do, right? Want to make sure everyone else is okay?"

Bucky's eyes are unfocused and he's nodding.

"Yeah…" Monty says softly, "thought so. He's a good guy. Always worrying about everyone else. Never about himself."

Bucky picks up his phone and he's calling.

"Hello?"

"Steve?"

"Buck?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Steve pauses, waiting for him to say the reason he called. But there wasn't a reason. Bucky just needed to hear his voice. "Buck?"

"I'm just calling to see how your week went."

Steve sighs, "what is this really about?"

And he finds that he has to tell the truth. "Nothing, Steve. I just miss seeing you and Clint and everyone else all the time. Wanted to talk."

Steve's voice changes into relaxed, "well you coulda just said that." He hears Steve laugh softly and the scratching of something, probably charcoals, "how's Boston?"

"Getting humid."

"Oh, yeah? Here too."

"Ready for Summer?"

And for some reason Steve pauses. "Uh… yeah. I am."

"What? You're not?"

Steve's quick to reassure, "no, yeah, I am. Can't believe I'm going to graduate."

"Me either. Seems like yesterday we were just barely highschoolers."

Monty's still sitting there quietly, hands rifling through his backpack.

"Well, soon none of us will be highschoolers."

"Yeah, then we'll all be college kids."

And there it is again.

The briefest pause.

"Hmm," Steve responds, sounding strange, "uh, yeah, hey, Sam's calling me, I gotta go. See you soon." And then he's gone. The phone silent as his screen goes dark.

And when he looks up at Monty, the guy is staring out the window. A frown on his face.

—

Tony waits until Sam is gone before heading down to the lab. When he swipes his keycard, his dad doesn't even notice.

"Dad?"

But Richard Strauss' Tod und Verklärung is playing too loud. Howard and Tony share an affinity for loud music. But when it's earsplitting, like it is now, it's a sign they're trying to quiet the anxiety in their minds.

He watches his father's stressed but assured motions as he works, soldering goggles covering his eyes and a frown on his face. When a quiet part of the song comes on he tries again.

"Dad?"

The dark goggles come off and bloodshot eyes meet his. 'Tony?"

"We talked about this dad." Tony grits his teeth, "Stop drinking and handling dangerous tools."

"I'm not drinking, Tony." His dad snaps back, "I'm crying. But it makes me want to drink." The admission catches him off guard and they stand there in silence for a moment. "What are you doing home?"

"You know."

"Know what?"

"Sam told you."

Howard straightens, his face going blank, "told me what?"

"That Steve thinks he's dying."

Howard's face shifts to wretched and he growls out, pointing the soldering iron at Tony, "If I have one more—" at that moment the music swells to a crescendo, blocking out all other sound.

And that's when Tony remembers the English name of the song.

Death and Transfiguration

Macabre. Even for his dad.

The music just plays, loud enough to be painful. But for some reason neither of them move to shut it off or quiet it. They just stare at each other as the music gets more tense and louder and Tony can feel his anxiety ratcheting up, his breathing shifting to agitated and he can see his dad's neck tightening. Two peas in a pod they are.

A break in the music and his father is yelling again, "If I have one more person doubt that I'm going to keep my promise—" his voice cuts off and his face is so angry and— Tony sees it, so fearful that he won't actually be able to. That Steve will die and Howard can never fix that. Can't ever fulfill his promise. A debt left unpaid. Red in his ledger.

Unthinkable.

Howard Stark doesn't do well with unfinished business.

"I have an idea." Tony says softly. The music at a soft and swelling moment. "Actually, I think you had an idea but it gave me an idea."

And Howard drops his hands and breathes a sigh, "let's hear it."

—

I need you to come in tomorrow.

Howard's text reads.

Steve sighs. He has a sinking suspicion that Howard is having some conniption fit because of his bloodwork and vital signs from the last appointment.

Not a super great start to his last month as a senior. But he's not surprised. Hasn't felt surprised about his health in a long while. He's using a cane again. And no one at school even cares or mentions it anymore. He'd gotten some looks and some questions from kids who had no common sense about personal privacy. But other than that it was relatively normal. Which Steve has to admit is nice.

Calm.

Everything is clicking into place.

The rest of them are supposed to be coming back from college in less than a week and he can't wait. He'll get to see them more often even though he still has school to go to.

Scott and Angie (who seems to appear out of thin air and then disappear just as quickly) have become his most consistent friends. He sees Hope occasionally as she and Scott are official. Much to Scott's excitement and her chagrin. But Steve can tell she likes him. His enduring humor and kindness are hard to ignore forever.

During a study hall, he pulls out his list.

The list of things he wants to make sure he gets done before he goes.

There's only a few boxes left to check off and some of those will have to wait till graduation day.

And then he starts on his third letter.

—

Tony's the first one back. He'd turned in his final project early because he wanted to get home. Erskine had only a short period of time he could meet and they wanted to run some things by him. Barnes and Natasha would be back late Sunday or early Monday.

His head pops up as his dad answers a phone call, "yeah?" He hears a voice on the other end, and then his dad is smiling, "wait really?" Tony sets down the wrench, wiping at his forehead and listening. "Of course, yes, this is amazing news, thank you Matt—" Howard's face gets concerned but then he's nodding, "I understand, I'll let Sam know right away—" There's more conversation but Tony's standing, wiping his hands on the towel and grabbing his phone. "Okay, yeah, yeah okay, thanks bye." Tony turns, and his dad is taking a deep breath. "Okay good news and bad news."

Tony grimaces, "what is it?"

"Matt says all the arrests have happened and he's sure we can get everyone charged. Except Rumlow."

"WHAT!"

"He was a minor, he's got no proven documentation of being involved in anything—"

"He's the worst one! We can't—"

"Tony, Matt's trying, but also, we have to consider that Rumlow did all that because he knew he would be protected, now he has nothing, he won't—-"

Tony's eyes widen, "now he has nothing to lose!" He's off and running before his dad can respond.

—

The universe strikes again.

Because when they get off the subway and round the first block to head towards his house, on one of the quieter streets, he's there.

Angie's talking about her hopes for theater school, and she doesn't notice the figure at the end of the street.

Waiting for him.

Brock Rumlow.

And he looks absolutely murderous.

"Angie." Steve says calmly. "I'll be fine from here, okay?"

She looks at him, "what? Why?"

"Yep. I'm sure." He tries to smile as relaxed as possible, "I just want to make a stop at my friend Bucky's house."

She's studying him, her eyes reading his face, then they flicker down the street but she shrugs, "I mean, okay. If you're sure?"

"I'll see you tomorrow." He promises, "bye." Then he starts walking slowly, heading towards Rumlow who stands like a gargoyle, menacing and face a snarl. He glances back to see Angie already gone and he sighs in relief.

A rage filled voice meets his ears.

"You pathetic whimpering skeleton piece of trash!" Rumlow snarls, eyes fixated on Steve and stalking towards him. Rumlow doesn't even blink, grabbing Steve's shirt and practically pulling him up off the ground, which makes Steve furious. "You and I have some unfinished business—"

"Let me go!" Steve growls, shoving against Rumlow's shoulders. But the guy doesn't budge, "I mean it Rumlow, let me go!"

"Or what!" Rumlow spits out, "you'll what!? You can't do anything! You're pathetic!"

"You think I won't do something?" Rumlow snarls in his face, "you think I won't come for you!? Or your precious little family?" His voice is a deadly hiss, "I know everything about you, no one will be safe from me. You've played the wrong hand—"

"I don't even know what the hell you're talking about," Steve grinds out, "let me go!"

"Don't act naive! You think I won't find everyway to tear you down and make your life fucking miserable?"

"You already tried that." Steve snaps, finally ripping himself from Rumlow's grasp. Stumbling back and almost falling over but righting himself just in time, "and if you even think about hurting my family, I'll—"

"You'll what!" Rumlow shouts, more angry than Steve has ever seen him, "you'll wheeze on me? You couldn't stop me even if you weren't dying of a useless heart!" His voice gets deadly quiet and full of hate, "next time I'll throw you in that dumpster myself—"

Steve's stunned for a minute, desperate rage at the man in front of him, "if you—"

"What!" Rumlow snaps, "You'll send your little rich boys after me again? You can't do anything without that menace's money! So much for not hiding behind his wealth you spoiled little rat!"

And for some reason Steve is speechless. He has no response. It's true. He'd be dead without Tony. If he hadn't paid the brothers that money, he'd have died in that dumpster. If Howard hadn't covered his medical expenses, given him that watch, and done all that he's done, everything… He'd be a goner multiple times over.

Rumlow's face transforms into a vicious smirk, "see, even you know it. You're a useless pathetic little worm. No one needs you, you little orphan bastard, and when I figure out a way to get my hands around your scrawny neck and wring the life from you I will—"

"Friend of yours?" Angie's voice shouts, causing both of them to jolt in surprise and their heads to snap upwards.

She's staring down at them, from the roof of a short townhouse, her phone out in front of her, presumably recording.

"Angie." Steve calls. "Leave."

Rumlow steps back from Steve as if burned, glaring at Angie, "who the hell is this?"

Angie scoffs and glares right back, "who the hell are you?"

"Go fuck off." Rumlow snaps at her.

"Sure I will, after I send this video of you assaulting and threatening my friend to the police."

Rumlow points a finger at Steve, "tell your little bitch friend to get down here."

"Why?" Angie asks, "so I can be there to tell the police in person what happened? I already called them, by the way." She smiles at Steve, "they're on their way."

"You're a liar." Rumlow snaps, "delete that video!"

"Nope." Angie says, straightening, the sun glowing behind her, "I'd scram if I were you."

Steve is just standing there. His heart pounding and unable to think of a single thing to say.

"This isn't over." Rumlow says, shoving him hard enough to make him tumble backwards. Then he's gone, and Steve's just lying on the sidewalk. Unable to think of anything to say.

"You're a terrible actor." He blinks up as Angie's face comes into focus. "Need help?"

He lets her help him up and she looks at him, "is he uh…" she points to his arm, where the burn is.

And he finally finds words. "No." Steve shakes his head, "no he's not that."

"Who is he?"

"ANgie, I told you to get out of here."

"No, you told me you were fine and that you were going to be going to a friend's house. And you lied. Your friend Bucky isn't back yet. You told me he comes home Sunday, remember?"

He blinks. Oh yeah. "Well, still." He huffs.

"You're a bad liar, Steve. I knew something was wrong." She looks down the street as if waiting for something.

"Did you actually call the cops?"

"Hell, yes." She says with a smirk, "I thought that guy was gunna murder you, he seemed really spitting mad."

"He is, but I don't know why—" His phone starts to ring and he pulls it out.

Tony.

His eyes narrow as he slides 'answer'. "Hello?

A frantic voice is on the other side, "Steve? Steve, are you okay?"

Now Steve's mad. "What did you do, Tony?" He doesn't know why Rumlow's mad, but now he's sure Tony and probably Howard have something to do with it. "I told you to leave Rumlow alone!"

"Steve, where are you? Are you hurt?"

"What did you do?"

Tony's voice is a sigh of resignation but also relief, "we got his whole network of nepotism arrested. He's the only one who escaped our clutches."

"Geez, Tony." Steve fumes, "I told you not to mess with him!—"

"What did he do?"

But Steve just hangs up, a single siren whoops as a police car pulls onto the street.

—

The policeman drops Steve off at his house and he's talking with Sam when the doorbell rings.

Sam looks at his phone. "You know they were doing the right thing."

Steve sighs and shakes his head, "yeah. I know. But why couldn't they have given me some warning."

Sam nods, "I get that."

He stands up and is greeted by a frantic Tony when he opens the door.

"Steve?"

"I"m fine, Tony."

"What happened?"

"Rumlow approached me on the street, and then he got heated but a friend was there and stopped him. So he left. Story over."

That's the version he gave to Sam too. Thankfully the police officer hadn't stayed to talk about it since Steve is an adult.

"What friend?" Tony asks, "Scott?"

"No, Angie." Steve responds, "she scared him off, so I'm fine. Just next time you're going to open a case against someone who hates my guts, maybe warn me next time, huh?"

Tony scrubs at his face, "I know, I know! I'm sorry. I'm just glad nothing happened. My dad told me to tell you about the case we were building but I knew you'd be mad."

"I am mad."

"I know. Is that what he did? Get heated? He didn't threaten you?"

"Is it the same guy?"

Steve's spine straightens at the new voice. He turns and both Tony's and his eyes find Peter, standing at the top of the stairs. "Peter—" Steve starts, but Tony's stepping past him.

"What do you mean 'the same guy'?"

"The same guy from the bodega. The one Steve won't go to anymore."

Steve winces, had he been that obvious?

Tony turns, now his eyes narrowing, "what guy, Steve?"

He sighs, "Rumlow found us in the bodega. The close one. On the corner."

"When was this?" Tony snaps.

"Before he went to visit you." Peter says, a frown on his face, "in college."

—-

Tony whips back to Steve, "WHAT!"

"Yeah." Another voice says. Sam. He looks really mad. "What."

But Steve doesn't back down, "I didn't say anything because I didn't know you were still poking that bear! I just thought it was a coincidence! I didn't know he was seeking me out!"

Sam slaps a palm to his forehead, "that's why you insisted on the other bodega before your prom!"

"Why the hell wouldn't you tell us you saw Rumlow!?" Tony seethes at him.

"Why the hell would you tell me you're investigating him!"

They glare at each other and it's quiet for a moment.

"You are not walking to school alone." Tony snaps.

And Steve laughs, which shocks Tony because it's so full of ire and sarcasm that it almost makes Tony shiver. "That's fine because I can barely walk to school anyways."

The admission has the entire room falling silent. Steve looking stricken at his own words.

"I mean…" he says hoarsely. "I—" but he doesn't have any words to speak and the

"Steve?" Peter asks, looking worried, "What do you mean?"

Sam takes over, dad mode engaged as he walks up the steps and pulls Peter along, "come on, Pete, we gotta get your homework done.

"But—"

"No arguing."

Peter falls quiet but Tony can feel the worried brown eyes from here. Tony knows the house knows something is wrong. Normal 18 year olds don't walk with a cane. But Tony knows they don't really know the full scope. Other than Wanda, Yelena and Pietro. Maybe Daniel.

Steve's still standing there, looking surprised. But then Tony watches him take a deep breath and look over at him. His mood shifting entirely. "Sorry about that. I get it. You thought you were doing the right thing. And you were. I shouldn't have kept Rumlow's appearance from you. It's all fine." Then Steve smiles and he starts half walking half limping to the kitchen. And Tony just stares, nothing to say.

—

Clint looks at Tony like he has three heads.

"What, you're surprised?"

"No…" Clint whispers, "I saw him too. A while back. I got the feeling he was up to something but I didn't know what. I kept an eye on Steve for a while and Happy drove him too, then it got quiet. But if you're saying you arrested the people he had backing him up then of course he would be mad."

"I've already told Bruce." Tony sighs, "some of his evidence will be used which means Rumlow will know he helped put his posse behind bars too."

"What did Steve say happened?"

"Not much, just that Rumlow got heated and his friend Angie scared him off."

Clint wrinkles his nose, "Angie? I think Steve mentioned her. The girl who's obsessed with Carter?"

"Yeah."

"You ask her?"

Tony pauses, then looks at him, "you think I should?"

Clint rolls his eyes, and his voice gets sarcastic, "oh no, I've never downplayed anything in my entire life." He narrows his eyes. "That was me mocking Steve by the way."

Tony snorts and then pulls his keys out of his pocket. "You coming?"

Clint nods.

—-

After hacking through the school's files and finding her address, Tony and Clint walk into an old diner with vinyl seats and chrome accents. A nice lady with brown hair approaches them, "hello gentleman, welcome to martinelli's, how can I help you?"

"Is there an Angie here?" The woman pauses and Tony smiles, "we know her from school. She's friends with Steve?"

The woman smiles, "oh! Steve. What a sweetheart. Hold on." The woman disappears through the back door and they wait.

"Does it ever hit you that Steve seems to know the whole damn city?" Tony gripes.

Clint laughs.

A petite brunette, wearing a retro waitress uniform and apron, walks out and eyes them warily, "Yes?"

"Hey, we're friends with Steve. Can we talk to you?"

"About what?"

"What happened, with Steve. On the street. With that jackass."

The girl snorts and then instantly relaxes, "oh, yeah, hold up." She turns, "ma, I'm going to take my 5!"

THe woman waves from behind the counter and the girl leads them to a booth.

She instantly arranges the salt and pepper shakers neater and then looks at them, "what did you want to know?"

"Can you describe what happened?"

"Didn't you ask Steve?"

"If you're really friends then you know he downplayed it."

The girl snorts again and then nods, "that's true. Well did he show you the video?"

The both freeze, "video?"

"Yeah, I recorded it. From the rooftop."

Clint holds up his hands, "Pause. I'm sorry. What?"

She frowns, "geez. He really didn't tell you anything."

Tony rests his hands gently on the tabletop. "Would you please start from the beginning?"

Angie sits back and pulls out her phone. "I was walking Steve home like I always do and then he got fidgety and told me to leave and that he was going to go see a friend. But Steve's a terrible liar you know? Bad actor all around, and he'd already told me earlier that week that that friend with the weird name wasn't home yet. So I knew something was wrong. So I followed my instincts and ran booked it up the fire escapes to the roof. And looked over. Then I caught this—" she holds out her phone and taps play.

"You pathetic whimpering skeleton piece of trash!" Rumlow is screaming, grabbing Steve's shirt and hauling him forwards, "You and I have some unfinished business—"

Clint and Tony looks on as Steve fights back, pushing against Rumlow.

"Let me go! I mean it Rumlow, let me go!"

"Or what! You'll what!? You can't do anything! You're pathetic! You think I won't do something?" Rumlow is in a rage as he speaks, towering over Steve, "you think I won't come for you!? Or your precious little family? I know everything about you, no one will be safe from me. You've played the wrong hand—"

"I don't even know what the hell you're talking about, let me go!" Steve sounds almost as mad.

"Don't act naive! You think I won't find everyway to tear you down and make your life fucking miserable?"

"You already tried that." They hear Steve snap back, getting loose from Rumlow's grasp, "and if you even think about hurting my family, I'll—"

"You'll what!" Rumlow's words are vicious and they make Tony see red, "you'll wheeze on me? You couldn't stop me even if you weren't dying of a useless heart!" Then in a voice so quiet they can barely hear, Rumlow's next words make them go rigid, "next time I'll throw you in that dumpster myself—"

Tony's finger stops the video and he's getting out of the booth, already pulling out his phone to start calling Matt and his dad.

And when he turns back towards Clint and Angie His voice is more deadly than Rumlow's.

"That son of a bitch is dead meat."

—-