Tony was always wary when missions went a little too smoothly. If everything got wrapped up quickly and easily, Steve accused him of being sloppy and cutting corners. If Tony celebrated that there had been few casualties and only minor damage, then he wasn't being respectful of the few people that had lost their lives. And heaven help him if they were done by dinnertime. It was downright selfish of him to try and head home to relax when he could be staying behind to clean up all the damage.

But if it had been a difficult mission, Steve would of course blame him for that, too. There was just no winning with him.

Today's villain had been neutralized in just under an hour. Tony swallowed down all his jokes about how easy the guy had been and waited quietly for some indication from Steve on how to proceed. There had been no casualties, no property damage. He was cautiously optimistic that Thor could talk Steve into taking the team out to lunch to celebrate. But he wasn't going to make that suggestion. Steve would only take it the wrong way.

Steve dusted grime off his uniform. "Team, report in. Any injuries?"

Tony popped open his faceplate. "Negative, Captain. I think we're all fine."

"Widow?" Steve said, as if he hadn't heard him. "Any injuries?"

Natasha lounged against a light pole, arms crossed over her chest. "You heard him," she said.

Steve set his jaw. "I want to hear it from you. Stark can't see anything more than obvious injuries. If you've sprained or broken-"

"I'm fine," she said. "We're all fine. Right, Clint?"

"Uh, guys, we've got a problem," Clint said. "A big problem."

Steve tensed. "Hawkeye, report in."

"I can see a bomb through the skylight over here. Corner of Eighth and Broadway. And shit, it's counting down fast."

"I've got this," Tony said. He snapped his faceplate shut.

"No," said Natasha. "Nobody's going in there. It's too dangerous. Steve, tell him it's a bad idea."

"He does have his armor," Steve said slowly.

And that was all Tony needed to hear. He snapped the faceplate shut and took off into the air.

He tuned out the sound of Natasha's cursing over the comm. He could do this. He just needed to focus.

Clint jumped out of the way as Tony barreled past him. "Dude, you shouldn't-"

"No time," Tony said curtly. He crashed through the skylight and landed hard onto the floor below.

It was an office building of some sort. A few people stood up from their cubicles to stare at him and one or two took out their phones to snap a picture. Not what he needed right now.

"Everybody out!" he shouted. "The place is about to blow." He herded people towards the exits since most of them seemed too stunned to move.

Now, where was that bomb?

Tony woke up in a hospital bed, heavily swathed in bandages and hooked up to an IV.

And Steve was sitting in the chair beside his bed, head bent down as he fiddled with his phone. Oh god, Steve was waiting to chew him out as soon as he woke up. Fuck fuck fuck.

"Okay," Tony croaked out. "Let's get this over with."

Steve's head snapped up. "You're awake. You'll be out of here in no time."

"Yeah," Tony said. "Unfortunately."

Steve frowned. "Don't talk like that. Why would I want you to stay in the hospital?"

"Because then I wouldn't be fucking around on the field?" Tony offered.

"You did a good job today," Steve said.

Tony waited for the but. But it could have been better. But good just isn't good enough. Or maybe, even worse, but only a good job, considering it was Tony.

But Steve stayed silent, a pained look on his face.

"Oh god," Tony said. "How many people died?"

"Nobody died."

"Injuries?"

"None except for yours."

Tony relaxed back into the bed. "That's okay, then."

Steve leaned forward, an earnest look on his face. "Tony, I don't like it when anybody gets hurt."

Tony nodded. He had heard it before. Even if there was no property damage, if a single civilian was killed, Steve still considered the mission a failure. "I fucked up our perfect score this time," he said. "And that building. Fuck, I hope it wasn't important."

Steve put a hand over his. "Tony, listen to me-"

"I know," Tony said. "I should have been faster. Maybe if I had spotted the bomb earlier instead of-"

"Tony," Steve said sharply.

Tony swallowed and forced himself to meet Steve's eyes. He expected to see anger, but instead there was hurt and guilt and what did Steve have to feel guilty for? It wasn't Steve's fault.

"I'm sorry," Steve said quietly. "I've been pushing you too hard. I almost got you killed today and that's not-"

"You didn't do-"

"Yes," Steve said firmly. "I should have had you stand down."

"We needed to evacuate the building."

Steve nodded. "And then you should have evacuated yourself." He squeezed Tony's shoulder. "You're a big part of the team, Tony. What would we do without you?"

Tony swallowed down the lump in his throat. He wasn't crying, no. He was just, he was just tired. The battle had taken a lot out of him.

Steve smiled tentatively. "I'll go get the others. They were all worried about you."

Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Bruce piled into the room, each of them happy to see he was alive and furious with him putting himself in danger in their own special way. Thor would have swept him immediately into a bonecrushing embrace of joy if Bruce and Clint hadn't held him back. Good old Thor. Tony quirked a smile watching Bruce try to explain the IV to him.

Natasha sank down beside the bed and took Tony's hand in hers. "Don't you ever do anything like that again," she said. "Or I will kill you myself."

Tony cracked a smile. "Missed me that much?"

Her face contorted and then she lightly socked his shoulder. "Asshole."

"Missed you guys, too," Tony said.

"Steve has something to tell you." She looked meaningfully over at Steve.

"He's already said his piece."

"Good." She smoothed a hand over his forehead. "We're a team, Tony. Don't you ever forget that." She lowered her voice. "And I'll make sure he never forgets it either."

And there was the pesky battle fatigue acting up again. Because the warm feeling in his chest had to be some kind of fever. Yep. That was the story he was sticking with.