* * * *
Tony stood stiffly next to the wall where Coulson's blood was still drying. He was pointedly not looking at the red spot, though. Instead, he leaned over the railing, glancing down into the vast open space where Hulk's cage had been, only half an hour ago.
Steve felt a pang of sadness going through him as he thought of Coulson. Maybe if he hadn't been so focused on Tony, maybe he'd... No. He swallowed and shook his head. He couldn't dwell on the past now. There would be time to mourn the man and now wasn't it.
He looked back at Tony. There was no movement in him at all. When Steve had first stepped up as Captain America, Tony had at least shot a few hidden glimpses at him. Probably eyeing his uniform. Probably also making silent notes about its inadequateness. Now—after their spiteful screaming match in the laboratory, and after Coulson—he wasn't looking anymore. Now he wasn't doing anything at all.
For Steve, there was nothing to do but stare at the motionless figure for long, endless seconds. It felt like he was frozen, too—frozen all over again, like his feet were stuck to the floor beneath him—as unable to move as they were unable to carry the weight pressing down on him.
"Tony," Steve called quietly, making a few cautious steps into the room. Tony gave no visible indication that he'd heard him, but Steve had expected as much. "Can we talk?" he asked.
There was no response. Of course there was no response. He'd known Tony would make this as hard as possible for him. Steve exhaled deeply, and he felt his heart breaking a little at the obvious sorrow clouding Tony's beautiful brown eyes.
He had no idea what to say—he didn't even know if there was something to say that would make this better. "Please, Shellhead," he added, his voice tense.
There was a long pause before Tony finally looked up—and for a moment, Steve thought there might have been a flicker of familiar longing in his gaze; a flicker which only proved to be nothing but wishful thinking. Instead, his expression was painfully empty, his face drained off any feelings. Steve might as well be Agent Hill, asking him to join them in debriefing.
His heart fell.
"You do know me," Steve started. He was aware that he was repeating himself, but talking was the only way to go. There was nothing else to be done. "I didn't lie about us Tony, I promise..."
Tony just shook his head, and his eyes fastened on him with cold assessment. "You won't promise me a thing," he spit out. "You hear me? Not. A. Thing."
Steve exhaled deeply and took another step forward, flinching when Tony took a step of his own—in the other direction. He swallowed hard, and he felt his eyes misting. It was no good. He had to keep a level head. This wasn't the time to break down. "What I said before, in the lab... I wasn't... I didn't mean any of it."
You just love making yourself miserable, don't you? You are so emotionally stunted you wouldn't know a good thing if it looked you straight in the eye.
He had known, even while speaking, that he wasn't in his right mind. That these words weren't his own—and the timing couldn't have been any more disastrous. He was fueling a fire that was already blazing fiercely.
Not that Tony hadn't given as good as he got.
You are nothing more than a self-promoting political lackey who is only here because they need someone who will jump on the wire without even asking.
After that, there had seemed to be no way to stop the words tumbling out of their mouths. No way whatsoever. He'd seen the pain crossing Tony's face, had seen that every jab felt like a physical blow to him, but he was unable to do anything about it. Unable to stop throwing even more hateful lies at him.
You are just an insecure little man. You hide behind your shiny toys to compensate for what you know you lack.
What I lack is common sense! How could I have not seen that all there is to you is just some stereotypical soldier mindset! All you do is follow orders! You really are the perfect picture of obedience, aren't you?
At least I have a purpose! Without the armor—you've got nothing. No wonder you won't let anyone get close. You don't want them to realize that the man underneath isn't even worth trying!
God, how could he have ever said something like that? It was the complete opposite of what he was feeling and so far away from the truth it was ridiculous. That did not, however, stop Tony's face from closing in completely, his gaze becoming distant like he was actually asking himself if Steve was telling the truth.
"Bruce said that Loki's scepter manipulated us," Steve explained, shaking his head to make the memories go away. "I couldn't do anything about it. I wanted to stop, but I... You are worth it, Tony—and the suit is nothing without you. You have to know I didn't mean any of it."
Tony chuckled darkly from where he stood cross-armed, leaning against one of the columns. "Well," he sneered. "Everything's hunky-dory, then, huh? Why don't we just head off to your little SHIELD apartment? You can fuck me on your little SHIELD bed, maybe buy me flowers afterwards—you know, with your little SHIELD money. Oh no, sorry, my mistake—you got your payment from me, of course. Guess I'll buy the flowers myself then. What d'ya think? A red rose for every time you fucked me over?"
It felt like an iron hand closed around his throat. He had to tear his eyes away from the coldness in Tony's face, turning his gaze to the ground instead. "You have to listen to me," he pleaded quietly, looking up again. "It was real, Tony. Everything I feel for you is real."
For a second, Tony's eyes flickered. It was brief but very present, and though it faded before he had time to really assess it, he knew it had to mean something. "No. You have to listen to me," Tony said calmly—a stark contrast to the way his hands began to shake. "I. Don't. Care. We are through, Captain. I'm not joking about this. I'm not saying this to make you try harder, or even just to make you feel worse. I'm not playing hard to get here. We are over. No, strike that—we never even were—and there is no reason for you to follow me around."
Tony shook his head hard, once, obviously willing himself to stop trembling. It didn't work. "I was your mission, right?" he continued. "Fun fact about me: I'm not stupid. I know that SHIELD agents always analyze their targets before going on assignments. That means you played me—you tricked me, knowingly, and you made me believe that..." He cut himself off, and took a deep shaky breath. "I'm serious, Steve. Just fuck the hell off."
A cold blast of indignation seized Steve's spine and held. "No, I won't," he ground out. "We need to settle this. We need to put this behind us. I can't go out there, fighting a God with you by my side, when I know that you can't even trust me on a basic level."
Another long beat passed between them. Tony obviously wouldn't give him any ground to stand on. He only shrugged matter-of-factly. "Well, welcome to the age of endless disappointment, Cap. It's a brave new world we live in," he said.
Steve's eyes fluttered closed, forcing his temper back. There was probably little to be gained by screaming right into Tony's face at this point. "I know I should've told you sooner," he admitted with gritted teeth. "I know that. It wasn't supposed to go this way, with you finding out right in the middle of a crisis. I never wanted to put you on show like that—"
"On show?" Tony repeated and at first, his eyes were full of anger, before it all evaporated within a second. "On show," he repeated, suddenly staring straight at the blood on the wall. "Of course... Loki, he... this is exactly what he's doing. He's putting on a show for us. For all the world to see. He needs a—" Tony gestured wildly, suddenly walking towards Steve and right past him, only turning around when he was already up the stairs, towering over him. "He needs a platform for this. A... stage, a monument. He needs—"
His eyes widened with realization and suddenly, Steve knew exactly where Tony's mind was going.
"Stark Tower," he breathed.
Tony nodded heatedly. "Stark Tower. That son of a bitch."
