Tony liked to perform a full check of the workshop's inventory at least twice a year. He had recruited Harley and Peter to assist him this time. A full inventory check included not just the items in immediate sight within the workshop, but also a look through the closets, storage spaces around the tower, and certain programs listed on devices. It usually took up an entire weekend because of just how many things there were to comb through and check off. Tony made sure to provide the boys with an endless supply of snack foods, pizza, and water to keep them active. He had half-expected them to eventually get tired or complain, but each new space they explored reminded him of Christmas mornings when he was a kid. Peter and Harley were consistently mesmerized by all of the 'ancient technologies' that Tony kept stashed away. Floppy disks, outdated USB drives, and blank DVDs took up one closet alone. It was pretty impressive to the tech-savvy boys.

"Why do you keep all of this junk?" Harley had asked in awe.

"You never know when you might have to rely on some old tricks," Tony replied through the Walkie Talkie. (Peter had found a set of them and had insisted that they use them while performing inventory. "It's more fun this way!" he had chimed.)

They had covered the majority of the floors when Peter decided to comb through some of the old bedrooms from when the Avengers had lived together in the tower.

"Maybe they left some cool stuff here?" Peter wondered aloud as he sifted through the rooms.

The suites had been individually designed to match the personal aesthetics of each member of the original team. But, since they had all left and retreated to their own spaces away from the city, not much remained in them besides the most basic of furniture pieces. Peter found a hidden gun strapped to the bottom of one bed that he could only guess had been Natasha's. He was too nervous to touch it but made a mental note to mention it to Tony. In the room opposite hers, he found an empty water bottle with a purple arrow symbol on the side. It made Peter smile by just how cheesy it was. Combing through the remaining bedrooms that had once housed the Avengers, Peter found nothing else of significance until he reached the final bedroom.

Peter flicked on the light so that he could take in the space. The design had been basic and not terribly modern. The walls were painted a soft blue, the bed looked sturdy and stiff rather than comfortable, and the lamp on the bedside table looked as if it had been collected from some ancient garage sale. The lampshade clashed horribly with the wall paint in a nostalgic way. Peter found himself smiling but he wasn't sure why. Though most of the smaller odds and ends that had probably once existed in this space had been cleared away, Peter could imagine that Tony had, at one time, put a lot of thought into how to decorate this room. Even the curtains felt like something from a different time. It wasn't overwhelming. Older aesthetics had been mixed with slightly more modern ones.

Moving from the bedroom to the quaint living room in the suite, Peter felt a chill go through him. The space had an air about it that seemed almost stifling. There was a thin layer of dust on the furniture that hadn't existed on any of the pieces in the other suites. There wasn't much to be found in the living room except a simple couch, a box TV, and a table in front of the couch. The space felt more abandoned than the other rooms had. It reminded Peter of the seedy motels he would see on TV shows that imposed a feeling of loneliness. Rectangles on the walls were coated in a different layer of coloring, showing that Steve had probably had posters or paintings hung up at one time.

Peter glanced into the bathroom and found no toiletries or towels to be found. He shifted to the study instead. Opening the door, he found a small library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves aligning two of the walls. A very large window overlooked the city on the third wall. Against the fourth wall was a mahogany desk with a reclining chair in front of it and a desktop monitor resting atop it. The monitor was covered in a thin layer of dust like the rest of the room. Peter looked under the desk and found that the hard drive was one of those old, giant processor machines that was responsible for turning on the system. Glancing over his shoulder, he expected Tony to come in and scold him for snooping when he should be performing inventory. However, Peter couldn't resist the urge. He pushed in the power button on the hard drive machine and brushed off the dust on the chair so that he could sit down at the desk. The chair was incredibly comfortable and he felt himself leaning back as he waited for the machine to boot up. It took a few minutes because of how long it had been off for. During his wait, Peter looked at the collection on the library shelves. He spotted all of the classics that he expected he would have to read in college, as well as a few unknown titles.

The computer gave a whirring sound as it came to life and Peter looked back at the monitor. There was no password login. Instead, he was met with a startup page that didn't meet the old-fashioned machine's time period. Tony must have upgraded it significantly. Not being able to hide how impressed he was, Peter grinned as he searched through the icons on the screen. Although Tony had installed all of the necessary stuff like a shortcut to S.H.I.E.L.D's database, Peter wondered whether or not Steve had actually ever used this computer. He knew from stories from Natasha that Steve had mostly used his cell phone to update himself on world events after coming out of the ice. Maybe this computer was just a friendly backup device? Peter searched through the computer's files but didn't find anything. The computer's history had been deleted and there weren't any Microsoft programs saved.

Giving a frustrated sigh, Peter leaned down to turn off the computer when something caught his eye. There was something tucked under the heavy machine. Sliding off the chair and to his knees, Peter struggled to shift the machine aside so that he could retrieve the mysterious item. Looking at the blank cover and spiral binding, Peter realized it was a sketchbook.

"Did he leave it here on purpose?" Peter asked quietly. He looked at the bookshelves. Surely if Steve wanted to leave it behind, then he would have placed it neatly on the shelves. With how heavy the machine was, there was no way that the sketchbook could have been accidentally lost underneath it. Peter himself could barely lift the thing to retrieve the book. Steve must have put it there.

But why?

Did he want Mr. Stark to find it? But why not leave it more out in the open? Or just give it to him?

Peter brushed off the layer of dust with his t-shirt and opened to the inside cover. There, in pretty handwriting, was Steve's signature. Peter bit his lip. What should he do with it? Should he try and contact Steve?

While making up his mind, Peter decided to look through Steve's drawings. He never knew the superhero had an artistic streak in him.

One of the first drawings that caught his eye was of a monkey on a unicycle, holding an old-fashioned version of the Captain America shield. There was one a few pages later of a beautiful lady that took Peter's breath away. It was just a head shot but her face looked oddly familiar, though Peter couldn't place it. He remembered seeing her picture before. He flipped through the next few pages and saw a few more pictures of her. It was clear that Steve had loved her very dearly. There were no imperfections anywhere in her image.

After sketches of the mysterious woman were a few drawings of things that Steve must have witnessed on an everyday basis while living at the tower. There was one sketch of Stark Tower in all of its impressive glory, two sketches of Natasha and Clint hanging out on a couch together, one of Bruce Banner making breakfast, and one of Pepper and Natasha talking. They all looked so happy and carefree in the images.

Peter felt his heartbeat pick up as he turned the page and came across an image of the same workshop he had spent the majority of his weekends in.

Steve had perfectly captured Dum-E and U at work on the Iron Man suit. Sparks were suspended in the air over the table as the robots worked.

"They look so real," Peter whispered to nobody in particular.

He turned the page and thought his heart would stop beating altogether.

There, looking back at him with one of his signature, cocky smirks, was Tony Stark. His hair was pushed back from his brow and he wore a thin tank top from which the Arc Reactor peeked through. He was posed in his workshop, holding a wrench in one hand, and his hip in the other. The drawing had stopped just above Tony's crotch.

Peter could see the warmth in Tony's eyes.

The next picture was also of Tony. This time, he was posed half-away from Steve, facing a workbench and drilling something out of view. The muscles of his biceps rippled against the page as he worked.

Peter flipped the page and found an image of a sleeping Tony on a couch in the workshop. His head rested on his forearm that was tucked behind it while his free arm draped across his chest. His face looked so peaceful in sleep.

The next image was of Tony laughing. He had crinkle lines by his eyes and his dimples looked adorable. He was standing adjacent to an exasperated Pepper. There was no background but there wasn't a need for one. Peter could perfectly picture this exact scenario anywhere at any time.

The final image that had been drawn was, unsurprisingly, also of Mr. Stark. But this one made Peter stare for an unusual amount of time. For one thing, it was a full body shot. In the picture, Tony was posed on a balcony with his back to the railing and his hands against the wood. His suit was perfectly tailored just like in real life. His pants hugged his legs and left little to the imagination. The moon was hanging low in the sky behind the inventor. Steve had added several stars that Peter didn't doubt belonged to whatever constellation had been visible that night behind Tony. But what struck the teenager the most was Tony's face. He was giving the artist such a look of pure, unabashed love that Peter bit his lip. Suddenly he felt as though he was intruding on something private and not meant for him. But, if things with the Accords had gone differently, then maybe Steve would still be living in the tower. Maybe Peter would have been able to ask him to see his drawings in person.

"Kid! Where did you get off to?"

Peter jumped as he heard a voice echo through his Walkie Talkie. Quickly he pulled it from his belt and replied, "I'm here, I'm here. Sorry, I got sidetracked."

"That's fine. Hurry up and get back here. I'm heating up the food."

"Yes, Mr. Stark," Peter answered quickly, tucking the Walkie Talkie back onto his belt. Looking down at the sketchbook, Peter decided he would hold onto it until he decided on what to do with it.

He needed to show Tony. But when? How?

Author's Note: The more positive comments I receive, the quicker I update!