Tony started to head home, before changing his mind; he could use a good fly. He looped through the air lazily and without direction, rocketing himself up as high as systems would allow and spiraling out, observing New York in all its nighttime glory. He'd miss this, when it was all over. There was so much good in the suit, so much potential, it'd be a waste to let it just sit in storage somewhere.
He let himself wonder if Captain America could be right.
Could his image really still be redeemed? He'd worked well with the Cap Squad just now, surprise of surprises. Other than the part where Rhodey chased him halfway across town, of course, but that could be rectified easily. Rhodey'd be pissed for a little bit, but of all of them, he'd come around easiest, for sure. Tony was starting to see it; he wouldn't have to run away soon as the law showed up, he could stay, could do even more good than he was already trying to, he could…
He could be a superhero.
Steve would like that.
Tony couldn't fathom why, but Steve seemed eager to believe the best of him. That belief in and of itself made Tony want to be better; maybe Steve was naïve, or just too optimistic, but that didn't change how desperately Tony hoped he might be right. If someone like Steve could see good in him, there had to be some, right?
Which begged the question: what would Steve think if he knew the truth?
Would he support Tony's desire for revenge? He'd been awfully sympathetic earlier, and he hadn't even known the worst of it…he wasn't the kind of person to agree with murder though, no matter the circumstances. He'd want to have Stane brought up on charges, make him face justice in a court and a jail cell, not with a repulsor through the face.
The worst part was, Tony could already hear Steve in his head.
He's not worth it, Tony.
All killing him will do is bring you down to his level, Tony.
I don't want to see that happen to you, Tony.
Tony shook his head viciously. He'd gone too far to back out now. He deserved this. He'd fought his way out of Afghanistan for it. He'd survived a bombing and a kidnapping and torture for this, miniaturized an arc reactor and built a suit of armor both literal and metaphorical, faked PTSD and lied to everyone he knew and created a double life all for this, all for the promise he'd made to himself that he would get revenge on the man who'd made it all happen.
Would Steve be able to forgive him this need?
Tony knew he didn't want a one night stand with Steve. He didn't care to examine exactly how he felt for fear of his suspicions being right, but he did know that he wanted Steve in his life for as long as he could possibly hold onto him. That meant honesty, at some point; Steve deserved it, and continuing to lie to him would do nothing but tear them apart.
He couldn't control Steve's reaction, but he could make sure that he told him the right way. He could make sure it came from him, could make Steve promise to hear him out from start to finish before running for the hills. Steve would do that for him, Tony was sure, no matter how much he didn't like what he heard. Even as Tony started to head home, he was already beginning to plot it out. Telling Steve the right way meant that the story would have to be accompanied by the promise that Tony was done, finished; it hurt to think of putting away the suit forever, but he could do it for Steve.
It meant he'd have to speed up his plans, but it wasn't much of a hardship considering he only had four more warehouses on his SI list anyway. He'd planned to spread them out, intersperse them with a HammerIndustries division that was mistreating its employees and handling a couple of the military's operations for them—he always got a kick out that, they put up such an adorably useless fuss—but he could put those aside and start closing in on Stane a little ahead of schedule.
It was high time the bastard starting sweating, anyway.
Steve felt awful for leaving Tony alone.
He wanted to go back after, but couldn't bring himself to. What could he even say? Sorry that you opened up to me and I repaid you by taking off without even telling you where I was going. Sorry that when you tried to help me I completely blew you off with no reasonable explanation whatsoever. Sorry that I still can't think of a good lie to cover why I left.
It couldn't be helped. Steve knew he'd done the right thing, and if Tony had known he surely would've agreed, the aftermath was just…complicated. SHIELD almost lost an entire testing facility; would have, if it weren't for Iron Man.
Iron Man.
Steve just could not figure him out. Iron Man had swooped in out of nowhere, enlisted Hawkeye—completely against his will, Clint insisted—taken the Destroyer out, disposed of it with War Machine—purely for the good of everyone, Col. Rhodes insisted—then disappeared into the night without a trace.
Nick was, for lack of a better word, furious.
Steve was willing to bet it had more to do with the fact that Iron Man had saved their asses than the security breach. Nick still had them detained in an endless meeting about how next time hepicks you up you shoot him Hawkeye, and next time something is about to knock fucking Iron Man out of the sky you let them Widow, seriously do you people not understand what a supervillain is, and on and on.
It was endless, really.
Steve was still so exhausted. For once, he wasn't the one getting berated for being "involved" in Iron Man's schemes, so he could let himself drift a bit. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said to Tony.
You can't come.
It was the only thing he could think of to say to get Tony to stay behind. Tony had been so earnest and ready to help, and Steve knew he wouldn't take no for an answer, not unless…not unless there was a bit of a sting to it. He knew that, rationally, but it sure didn't make him feel any better about doing it.
It was almost three in the morning. Tony had to be asleep. Right?
Tony, I— Steve started to type. JARVIS didn't stop him to say Tony was asleep. Now that he knew he could actually explain himself, however, he had no idea what he wanted to say.
More accurately, he couldn't think of any lie he could tell Tony to make it better. A painful thought occurred to him: maybe he shouldn't. Maybe if he and Tony had a falling out now, it would be better in the long run. Better for Tony, anyway.
There was no "better" for Steve if he had to lose Tony so soon after having found him.
Tony, I'm so sorry about earlier. I didn't mean it, I just…panicked.
Steve was being selfish. He knew he was. He knew it was better for both of them if they fell out now, but he couldn't stand the idea of Tony thinking he didn't care, that he hadn't wanted to stay.
It's fine.
It's really not. Could I come back?
You don't have to.
I want to. Honestly. There's nowhere else I'd rather be.
He didn't get a response after that, likely because Tony didn't believe him. Steve racked his brain for any sort of excuse. Eventually a strange idea came to him, and a rather morbid one at that, but he couldn't think of anything else; family in the hospital meant Tony might ask to visit with him "next time", and there wasn't much else he'd get a call in the middle of the night about.
It was the police. There was a murder and they thought it might've been someone I knew so they asked me to identify a body. It wasn't, but I didn't know that at the time.
Jesus, Steve, that's awful. Why didn't you say something?
I panicked. How often do you have to go look at dead bodies?
Fair enough, I just, I could've…I don't know, made the drive less gloomy? I just wanted to help.
I know you did, but I wasn't thinking clearly. I promise, Tony, it had nothing to do with what we were talking about before.
If you need space, it's fine.
What on earth would I need space for?
It's…I don't know, it's a lot to take in, isn't in?
Well, yes, but it's not YOUR fault.
It sort of is. I mean, maybe not the terrorist part, but the rest of it.
