for amelioraate

[gotup]

[ He hasn't seen Tony since Siberia. Talked to him on the phone once or twice to negotiate their return, yeah, texted a few times, but in person? Nothing. Not that Steve's been allowed to see anyone. He has his own floor in the tower, and everyone's being very careful to say that none of them are prisoners, but guess what? They're prisoners.

To be fair, it's a nice prison, with pretty much every cable channel invented by man, high-speed internet, the works. His food's delivered - possibly by a robot, Steve isn't really sure, it just sort of shows up in the fridge and all he has to do is microwave it, and he suspects that robots do everything around here because he sure hasn't seen a human being.

(He hasn't seen any robots, either, apart from the little vacuum robot, and it's a sign of how desperate he is that he's starting to think of it like a pet. Especially when it gets confused and runs into the wall repeatedly.

Yeah, Steve's pretty sure he's cracking up.)

All of his negotiations are conducted via terse emails with various government officials, who a) are incensed that he refuses to sign the Accords (he read them, okay? it's not just turning control of the Avengers over to a UN panel) and b) can't believe that he isn't even remotely apologetic for everything he's done, won't even try to deny that he did it. He's glad Bucky's untouchable back in Wakanda, safely tucked away in one of T'challa's cryogenic pods. He has the king's word that nothing will happen to him, and from what Steve's seen, T'challa would rather die than break his word.

Steve's starting to wish he was back there, too. He'd mainly come back to try and repair things with Tony - to fix everything, but it's his splintered friendship that hurts the most - but Tony won't even come near him. He doesn't blame him, figures it's exactly what he deserves. Tony can keep the shield and the costume; they don't matter to him. They were only ever just a symbol. They'd started life as propaganda, and they can end that way. He just wants to be Steve Rogers, but he's not even sure he'll be allowed that much. ]

Comments

[amelioraate]

[ It starts when Tony starts atoning for his sins. When he weaves the first few words together to get Steve back to the States. When he starts pulling strings in the shadows to wipe the slate clean for Steve and Sam and even James fucking Barnes. Or maybe it starts when Tony sits down and finally things about it, watches all the tapes, reads all the files, realizes what was on the line for the man out of time. However it starts isn't really the point, the point is that it starts. Sam and Wanda and Clint and Steve... they are free. Well, as free as Tony can get them for now. There are still fucking hoops to jump through (and he knows the government is going to set a few on fire just to spite him, but hey he deserves it now) and feathers to sooth over but-- it has started.

It continues when Tony pushes forward the use of his Tower for the hosting of 'hose arrest' (that wasn't what they called it really, but it was the reality of it and Tony wasn't about to go and call a pile of shit art) and then went about giving those in the Tower as much autonomy as possible. There was always food, there was a gym, there were movies and internet and-- everything but communication really. But that one wasn't on Tony, not really.

While they are all in the Tower, Tony makes himself scarce; holes up in his workshop with robots and computers and things that he understands. Buries himself in ideas and even paperwork (Pepper doesn't comment, not even when he is signing things long before her asking for them, they are still... fragile) and ignores the looming ghost in his space like it's his fucking job. There are cracks in his heart, in his armour, and he can't pull himself together enough to pretend other wise right now. But he knows that Clint is creeping out more and more, making use of the new arrows that find their way to his doorstep. Knows that Wanda is spending time with Vision in the kitchens, the theatre room, the gym. And Steve is-- well Tony doesn't care. Nope, he doesn't.

It stagnates when Tony realizes that he is avoiding the other half of the equation.

Between trying to fix what he broke (what they broke? No, no Steve isn't trying to fix much of anything that he broke) and keep up his facade with the public, and maybe make the public thing better of him and his teammates, Tony is stretched too thin.

He is getting to old for this.

Sure they have talked. If you count like two and a half phone calls and some text messages back and forth but-- since Steve has come back, Tony has avoided him like Steve might be trying to kill him. Which, isn't far off the mark considering the last time they saw each other (not that he ever really tried to kill Steve, he was angry, vicious and hut, but kill Steve? No, he would rip out his own heart, thank you). There is too much there, a weight in Tony's chest (shrapnel shaped like stars and stripes and too blue eyes) that makes it hard to breathe, has him running for the bottle more than he would like, and he just-- can't.

It begins again when, one night at three am, Tony is thirty nine hours without sleep and just a little drunk and suddenly not on the floor he was supposed to be on. He asked FRIDAY to take him back to the lab to finish the specs on the new stealth suit for Cap and Widow and-- now he is where exactly? He drops his head to the elevator door and curses.]

Fuck you, FRIDAY. Very funny. Now take me to the lab!