Tony's tower was never very homely, so the change was almost easy to overlook. If you ignored the dark cloud that has descended on everybody. The team didn't exactly play house, they were co-workers and didn't gather in the evening to listen to radio together - play video games, Tony would say - like a family. Tony tried to get him to play a video once, all false cheer and too much energy for an old man like Steve - but it didn't take.
Steve sighed. Maybe they were all just desperately lonely people.
The upside was, no one bothered Steve or looked up to him. Everybody avoided everybody, and the tower was seemingly continuing on its own. Steve used up the time to go on long walks.
Eventually though, he had to come back.
He had been reassuring himself that there was no need for immediate action for days, on the flimsy excuse of asking Jarvis for updates. Every time the butler replied "He is functional, Captain Rogers" Steve allowed himself to breathe more easily than he should.
Functional wasn't really a badge of great life.
Steve settled on it, after Jarvis insisted that 'fine' was "too vague a question, Captain" and rattled off his vitals, calory intake and habits, half of which Steve didn't understand. That miserable conversation ended with a helpless "...is he eating?" "Yes, Captain Rogers", and a compromise that essentially stated: "if his vitals were functioning well enough according to Jarvis, then it was okay to say "fine" to Captain and allow him a one day delay."
There had been too many one days already.
He still went out to breathe first thing in the morning, though. He'll need a clear head for this. He circled back after a few hours.
Finally, going through the door - "Jarvis, is Tony awake?"
"Yes, Captain Rogers."
Steve sighed. "Good, good..." Time to talk strategy.
*
"What do you mean you haven't been seeing him?!"
When Jarvis told him that the man was eating, Steve had assumed that Tony was taking care of it. Him. Was taking at least rudimentary care of him.
Tony was gripping the back of the chair before him, but his hands still shook.
"I can't, Cap." Well, that makes two of us. "He knows I'm his owner. He knows that I--" Tony faltered. "I just don't think it's a good idea."
No, because all good ideas should just fulfil themselves, shouldn't they. But that was a petty thought. And Captain America cannot be petty, can he, he thought to himself pettily.
Steve took a breath. This was taking a toll.
With everything going on, he almost felt sorry for Tony and his newest role. They were in a lab, one of those places Tony went to hide away to, and apparently there were tiers for that, because they were so deep into the ground Steve wasn't sure it was still Manhattan outside.
Not too sorry, though.
'I can't,' he says. Too bad, fool. You can only avoid who you are for so long. Steve would know.
"We don't have a choice, Tony," he reminded him. "The team is falling apart. We've been failing in our duty for days. We have a highly vulnerable soldier--" his voice broke. No. That wasn't the right rank. "H-highly vulnerable--"
"Charge," Tony said hollowly. "He's my charge."
Steve breathed. Right. Good term. "--that needs our help," he said, once he knew that his voice would be reasonably level. "We need to make decisions."
He watched Tony pull himself together into a much more mature man than he wanted to be. Senior member of the team, host. Now also a leader in rank, just like Steve. "His health is the first priority," Tony decided. "Bruce said he was in pain, had a limp, broken bones--" He took a moment. That chair was starting to shake itself under his hands. Steve kind of wanted to grab it and take it from him. "We need to do something about that. And his health in general. He could have any number of infections or diseases--"
Starting with STDs, Steve thought, but didn't say. Tony didn't need to know that.
"Starting with tropical ones," he said instead. "And flu. Check for the flu."
"Spanish flu had been a while ago, Cap."
"Desert nights are cold," he said stubbornly. "Together with the hot days--"
"Pneumonia," Tony corrected him gently. "Yeah, we'll check for that. Should be evident by symptoms, but--"
But no one had been watching him for days. No one was there to notice anything.
Steve dropped into the chair, making Tony release it from his death grip. He felt very old. "No soldier should ever be isolated," he decided. "We'll introduce him to the team."
Fill: part 12 - Steve
Tony's tower was never very homely, so the change was almost easy to overlook. If you ignored the dark cloud that has descended on everybody. The team didn't exactly play house, they were co-workers and didn't gather in the evening to listen to radio together - play video games, Tony would say - like a family. Tony tried to get him to play a video once, all false cheer and too much energy for an old man like Steve - but it didn't take.
Steve sighed. Maybe they were all just desperately lonely people.
The upside was, no one bothered Steve or looked up to him. Everybody avoided everybody, and the tower was seemingly continuing on its own. Steve used up the time to go on long walks.
Eventually though, he had to come back.
He had been reassuring himself that there was no need for immediate action for days, on the flimsy excuse of asking Jarvis for updates. Every time the butler replied "He is functional, Captain Rogers" Steve allowed himself to breathe more easily than he should.
Functional wasn't really a badge of great life.
Steve settled on it, after Jarvis insisted that 'fine' was "too vague a question, Captain" and rattled off his vitals, calory intake and habits, half of which Steve didn't understand. That miserable conversation ended with a helpless "...is he eating?" "Yes, Captain Rogers", and a compromise that essentially stated: "if his vitals were functioning well enough according to Jarvis, then it was okay to say "fine" to Captain and allow him a one day delay."
There had been too many one days already.
He still went out to breathe first thing in the morning, though. He'll need a clear head for this. He circled back after a few hours.
Finally, going through the door - "Jarvis, is Tony awake?"
"Yes, Captain Rogers."
Steve sighed. "Good, good..." Time to talk strategy.
*
"What do you mean you haven't been seeing him?!"
When Jarvis told him that the man was eating, Steve had assumed that Tony was taking care of it. Him. Was taking at least rudimentary care of him.
Tony was gripping the back of the chair before him, but his hands still shook.
"I can't, Cap." Well, that makes two of us. "He knows I'm his owner. He knows that I--" Tony faltered. "I just don't think it's a good idea."
No, because all good ideas should just fulfil themselves, shouldn't they. But that was a petty thought. And Captain America cannot be petty, can he, he thought to himself pettily.
Steve took a breath. This was taking a toll.
With everything going on, he almost felt sorry for Tony and his newest role. They were in a lab, one of those places Tony went to hide away to, and apparently there were tiers for that, because they were so deep into the ground Steve wasn't sure it was still Manhattan outside.
Not too sorry, though.
'I can't,' he says. Too bad, fool. You can only avoid who you are for so long. Steve would know.
"We don't have a choice, Tony," he reminded him. "The team is falling apart. We've been failing in our duty for days. We have a highly vulnerable soldier--" his voice broke. No. That wasn't the right rank. "H-highly vulnerable--"
"Charge," Tony said hollowly. "He's my charge."
Steve breathed. Right. Good term. "--that needs our help," he said, once he knew that his voice would be reasonably level. "We need to make decisions."
He watched Tony pull himself together into a much more mature man than he wanted to be. Senior member of the team, host. Now also a leader in rank, just like Steve. "His health is the first priority," Tony decided. "Bruce said he was in pain, had a limp, broken bones--" He took a moment. That chair was starting to shake itself under his hands. Steve kind of wanted to grab it and take it from him. "We need to do something about that. And his health in general. He could have any number of infections or diseases--"
Starting with STDs, Steve thought, but didn't say. Tony didn't need to know that.
"Starting with tropical ones," he said instead. "And flu. Check for the flu."
"Spanish flu had been a while ago, Cap."
"Desert nights are cold," he said stubbornly. "Together with the hot days--"
"Pneumonia," Tony corrected him gently. "Yeah, we'll check for that. Should be evident by symptoms, but--"
But no one had been watching him for days. No one was there to notice anything.
Steve dropped into the chair, making Tony release it from his death grip. He felt very old. "No soldier should ever be isolated," he decided. "We'll introduce him to the team."