String Theory

Chapter 4

"What does this mean?" Steve asks quietly.

"It's Peter's, " Tony explains desperately. "That's Peter's handwriting, and it wasn't there before."

Steve straightens up and presses his lips into a thin line. Tony feels his stomach twist as he realizes that Steve doesn't believe him at all. Tony throws his hands up. "I know, Steve, alright? I know how ridiculous that sounds. Last night, I just... shrugged it off. Thought I was finally losing it, starting to see shit. But I—" He stops, licks his lips, shakes his head a little in bewilderment. "I saw him last night, Steve. It wasn't just a dream, alright, it was a full-fledged dash-cam of Peter, I mean - it was real . He was on the road, and he was talking about this— Orthus thing he wrote about. And you know who he was with?"

There's a moment of heavy silence, and Tony looks Steve right in the eye, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the name will kick Steve in the gut as much as it did in Sokovia. "Barnes. Alright? He was with Barnes."

If he wasn't so concerned for Tony, maybe Steve would be shaken by this, but he's not. He knew Tony was distraught, but he didn't know it was this bad. Shouldn't have left him alone for so long. It got to his head, and now he's going to spend all his time looking for people who don't exist anymore.

"You had a dream," Steve says quietly.

"It wasn't a dream! " Tony pleads. "It wasn't a dream, Steve, it was a vision. I know what I saw, okay, please—"

Steve raises his voice. "You're getting carried away, Tony! This is the same thing that happened with Ultron. You work yourself up into full-blown paranoia, and nobody can talk you out of it. Nobody can convince you that you're wrong. That's your problem."

"I was wrong? You think I was wrong ?" Tony's on his feet now, and his entire demeanor has shifted to anger. His head is tilted to the side, and his gaze is sharp. "There was a threat, and it won, because we weren't ready. My own damn team wouldn't listen to me because they think I'm paranoid , and now half of them are dead." He spits the last word, looking Steve right in the eyes.

Taken aback by Tony's outburst, Steve looks aside and says nothing for a moment or two. He's always been surprised by Tony's ability to shift gears so quickly, but that defense was much more of an offense, and Steve isn't in the mood to roll over. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, but edged with anger. "You know it's not that simple."

"Kind of think it is," Tony says, and takes a step back. His left arm is starting to ache, so he lifts it to his chest and grips his wrist tightly. "It's a fucking experiment, Rogers. If he's out there, and he can see it, then it doesn't hurt to try."

"It damn well hurts, and you know it."

"Yeah? How!?" Tony's voice arches into frantic anger. "I think I'm allowed to look for my kid, Steve!"

Steve's face contorts. "He's not your—"

"Yes, he is!" Tony shouts. "He's my kid, dammit! If there's one thing — one thing the Avengers taught me," he pauses for a moment, heart pounding, tears threatening. His voice drops, and trembles with pain. "It's that your family isn't just your blood. —I took him in. I made him part of our family."

Steve is silent, and Tony rambles on, increasing in volume. "I used to read every single one of his stupid, pointless text messages. I tried to make him feel happy and welcomed and important . I listened to him. I cared about him, and I'll be damned if I don't care about May, too!" He holds eye contact with Steve, and the sob in his throat betrays him. His voice breaks. "Losing him broke me more than losing you ever did."

A moment of silence. Steve looks down, stung; he wants to protest, to insist that Tony never lost him, but he'd be lying. Tony did lose him, and Steve knows it. Tony's voice is sharp, but heavy with tears. "So, yeah , he is my kid. And I'm bringing my kid home. Whatever it takes."

Tony retreats to his chair, and Steve uncrosses his arms, puts a little distance between himself and Tony. He's thinking about what to say, and filters through a dozen responses before he settles for, "I get it, Tony. I do. We all lost something in the war. But thinking like that is going to cost you everything, including your friends."

"Didn't seem to bother you when you went after Barnes," Tony replies quietly.

Steve snaps his mouth shut, and the anger brewing in his chest is enough to make him ball one of his fists. It's always been like this between them. They fight, instead of trying to understand each other. Tony's trying his patience now.

"Location found, boss," FRIDAY says quietly, displaying a red point on a map. Tony shifts his attention to the holographic display. GALAHAD is printed in bold font over the dot, which is located just outside of London. Steve's gaze follows, and his brows knit. "What's Galahad?"

Before Tony can answer him, FRIDAY chimes in again, this time sounding alarmed. "Picking up resonation from the area frequency monitors. Something's happening."

"What kind of something?" Tony asks, concern flashing across his features. His eyes meet Steve's for a brief second. "Is it the put-on-a-suit type of thing, or—"

And then his eyes catch the papers he'd laid out on the floor, and his heart stops in his chest. He stands, transfixed, almost horrified at the sight. "Steve," Tony breathes, edging towards him. "Look. Look at the paper. Tell me I'm not the only one seeing this."

Steve is just as shocked as Tony, lips parted as he stares at the pages. They aren't in the order they'd been moments ago; the C and the O have been discarded, and are several feet away. Now, rearranged, on two the pieces that have been turned over, the letters L and P are appearing slowly, as if drawn by an invisible hand.

HELP ME.

Tony feels like he's going to throw up.