I know not much is happening right now - I'm on holiday and don't really have internet, sorry.

Warning for swears.

It had been just another fight, nothing special. A freshly escaped and pissed off Loki had decided to start blowing chunks out of unsuspecting buildings on the outskirts of Albany, no doubt just trying to get enough attention for the Avengers to appear, and generally being a pain in the ass. The team had assembled and hit him head on - without an army at his back he wasn't quite the threat he had once been - and after some hard work and coordination they'd cornered him in an abandoned cluster of warehouses.

Tony had to admit he was impressed by the dark god's ability to hold his own against the entire team but that admiration lasted all of about ten seconds before a blast of bright green magic sent him careening through the wall of one of the dilapidated buildings. Which promptly fell on his head.

It was a pain but he was actually okay - if you considered badly bruised and nursing a brutal concussion okay. The problem was that the building he had inadvertently brought down had also been the one Hawkeye was perched on. And Hawkeye was not okay.

In fact, Delta Team Specialist Agent Clint Barton was in hospital, desperately trying to recover from two broken legs, one broken arm, 9 broken ribs, 2 cracked ribs, a punctured lung and severe head trauma, along with multiple lesions and bruises. Hawkeye was not okay.

And this was probably something Tony could deal with - he was no stranger to guilt - and somewhere in his genius head he knew that he shouldn't be blamed for this. This was all on Loki (who had teleported himself away as soon as he saw the building come down, the bastard). So if these were normal circumstances, he'd just grin and bear it and lounge around the hospital as if he was untouched by it all when really he was counting down the days until his friend could be released.

But these were not normal circumstances. Tony wondered if Loki had planned it like this - knowing the guy's propensity for devious plans and general asshole-ness it would make sense. Either way, it had worked out so that at the moment Iron Man was sent flying into the building, every other member of the team was distracted by one of Loki's clones and so no one (except perhaps Clint who was in a medically induced coma) had seen what had happened.

And since they thought they knew him, they all assumed that this must have been his fault. Like what, he flew into the building on purpose? It was ridiculous.

Natasha hadn't said one word to him since Loki had disappeared and they'd found Clint's mangled body; instead she'd waited until her partner was safe in the hospital and Tony was out of his suit before she punched him square in the face (and ow, concussion really sucks), kicked him in the groin and stormed away.

Tony hadn't even had time to wipe the blood from his face before Steve was in front of him, glaring at him with all of his righteous disapproval like it was his job to make Tony feel unworthy of the air he was breathing.

"I can't believe you would do something like this. I thought you were better." His voice was tight was restrained emotion but in that moment Tony didn't care enough to try and work out what.

"I didn't do anything!" He retorted, hurt warring with rage.

"You almost got Clint killed!" And suddenly Steve was shrieking at him, regardless of the hospital staff that shot them dark looks. "Were you so busy showing off that you forgot you were part of a team? You know, for just one moment there I thought maybe we could actually work together, do some good. But now I can't believe I was so stupid. All you care about is your own glory! And to think I thought you might be a better man than your father."

Up until then Tony had still been too stunned to really say anything but there were just some things you didn't say to Tony Stark. You didn't mention Afghanistan. You didn't mention Obadiah or Whiplash. If you said anything about Hammer, he'd just laugh in your face. But above all else you didn't say anything about Howard Stark.

All at once, his rage exploded. "My father?! Howard Stark was the worst man I've ever had the misfortune of knowing so don't you dare compare me to him!" Steve took a short step back against the venom of his outburst, surprise colouring his features. "I get that you think I'm unworthy of this team and that's fine, you go ahead and believe it but stop looking to me for your old pal Howard. He died a long time ago and if I never hear about him again it will be a blessing. And as for Clint? If you really think I'm capable of doing something like that on purpose then we've misunderstood each other Captain." He spat the word at him like an insult. Steve flinched just a little, still looking too surprised to form a coherent response and just like that, Tony couldn't stand to be there one more minute.

He was used to feeling unwanted - had dealt with that feeling until he was a teenager and his parents died - but now he just couldn't face it. The yelling hurt his head and the words hurt his heart and it was all too much. Turning on one heel he marched away without looking back.

Tony's base reaction to a fall out of this magnitude was to grab a bottle of his finest scotch, take it down to his workshop and make it disappear. So what if he had concussion and shouldn't drink? If it killed him no one would care anyway. By midnight he was roaring drunk, hands that needed to be occupied throwing together wires and metal with wild abandon, creation in its purest form. He knew that in the morning he'd have forgotten what all of his late night projects did or how they worked but that would just be a mystery for him to solve, a challenge to face.

Jarvis was a comforting presence around him, not judging him for his lack of composure or offering any meaningless words, just helping him with his work and making sure he didn't pass out and swallow his tongue. Vaguely he realised that Jarvis was really the only family he had - god wasn't that a depressing thought. He'd had to build himself a family.

Eventually his feverish energy ran out and he slumped where he sat, hands sliding away from the twisted metal contraption he'd been working on. It was at this point the feelings piled in again, doubt and guilt and hurt and anger and so many more that he couldn't make sense of it all. His heart ached with it.

He didn't cry (it took more than this for him to do that) and he didn't make a sound. He just let the misery was over him like a tidal wide until he was drowning in it, breathing it into dying lungs. When he passed out, the nightmares rose like demons, tearing into his soul with teeth sharper than knives and designed specifically for him.

Dawn was appearing on the horizon when he jolted awake with a start and cry, his whole body lurching with remembered terror.

"Sir?" Jarvis asked, concerned as always.

"I'm alright," he gasped, shuddering at the feeling of cold sweat dripping down his back as his mind twisted and turned, trying to settle itself again. "What time is it?"

"Just past 5am Sir. The only other Avengers in the tower at this moment are Dr Banner and Captain Rogers. There are no further developments in Agent Barton's condition."

Tony flinched at Steve's name. That was one person he didn't want to run in to. Rather strangely, he was more worried about coming face to face with Rogers again than he was with Natasha. Sure, his nose still hurt and his head was pounding like you wouldn't believe but there had been something terribly honest in her actions. She was angry and stressed and so she had lashed out but there weren't any feelings involved, no lingering ill will.

He couldn't say the same of Steve. From the way he had spoken it sounded almost like he had been waiting for the chance to have that argument, as though he had been hoarding the words that could hurt Tony the most and that was probably the most painful thing. Steve hadn't been overemotional or worried or distorted in anyway: he'd spoken with a level head and he'd meant what he'd said.

'Why does he hate me so much?' He asked himself, only to instantly laugh at the question. 'He hates you because you're you Tony. Everyone hates you eventually.'

His father had hated him from the get go and his mother had mirrored him as she always had soon enough. Obadiah had hated him for who knows how long. Rhodey had never been the same after Whiplash, no matter how much he tried to tell Tony that everything was alright and that he was sorry. He'd stopped calling eventually, fading away like a ghost. Maybe he hated Tony now too. He supposed Pepper never could hate him completely but no doubt at the moment she was close to it. In the end Iron Man had just been too much for her. He'd watched her go with sad eyes and silence.

And now Steve. Possibly Clint too, though that wouldn't be decided until he woke up. Natasha would take whichever side Barton did. Tony hadn't a clue what Thor thought of it all - he'd disappeared after Loki with a brief apology that didn't sound sincere and no one had seen him since. Bruce wouldn't remember the fight at all but Tony liked to think that maybe the doctor would take his side. After all, he knew better than most the guilt that came with collateral damage in a fight.

"Sir, Captain Rogers is requesting access to the lab."

He didn't even have to think. "Denied."

There was a long pause. "He is quite insistent Sir."

"Denied, Jarvis. Tell him to piss off and leave me alone. Tell him I'm busy."

This time the quiet stretched for so long Tony thought that maybe the Captain had taken his advice and left. His relief was short lived. "Tony."

He hated the way his whole body went rigid at that voice, even when it was slightly distorted by the electronic channel he was speaking through. Emotions pressed at the back of his mind and he shoved them away brutally. "You can't take a hint can you?" He asked after a moment, proud that his voice didn't waver. "Fuck off Rogers."

He heard Steve sigh. "Tony, this is childish. Let me in."

"Hmm, no."

"We're going to have to talk eventually, you know. Just open the doors."

Tony almost did just so that he'd be able to throw something at the man. Like a brick. Or maybe whatever the hell he'd been make last night. It looked sort of like a toaster with an aerial poking out the top of it and a pool of some sort of electrolyte at the bottom - he hadn't the faintest idea what it was supposed to do.

"Go back to the hospital Steve, it's where you want to be." He wished he didn't sound so defeated.

Steve must have caught it as well, the git, because his next words were softer. "It's where you want to be too, isn't it? Why don't you come with me and we can talk about this?"

Tony huffed angrily, annoyance spiking. He didn't want Steve's concern and he certainly didn't want his pity. "Go away Rogers," he ordered in a voice like ice. "Cut the channel Jarvis."

There was a soft hiss of static and then the lab was silent once more. All of a sudden it seemed oppressive. Tony always kept several bottles of alcohol in the lab and he reached for one now, headache be damned. No doubt he was wiping out brain cells by the millions but who the hell cared at this point? Certainly not him.

He'd seen the bottom of two bottles by the time Jarvis spoke again. "Captain Rogers is requesting access again."

It took Tony three tries to slur out the word 'denied' but he managed it in the end. This time no one protested.

It wasn't until the early morning of the next day that Tony surfaced again, jolting out of nightmares violently and sending a mostly empty bottle flying, shattering on the floor a few feet away.

"Oops," he said quietly, the words catching on the awful taste in his mouth. His head ached so fiercely it was hard to see but he finally made his way to the sink, throwing back some Tylenol with a quick swig of water. He sank to the floor where he was, unwilling to have to cross the lab again to get back to his chair, and leant against the wall. "Any news on Clint?"

"The doctors have taken him off the drugs keeping him asleep. They hope that he will wake up at some point today."

Tony nodded to himself. "Any other news?"

"Captain Rogers has been requesting access continually. He asked that I alert him when you woke up but i have not yet done so."

He smiled gently at the ceiling. "You're always looking out for me, aren't you Jarvis?"

"Indeed Sir."

"Don't tell him just yet. Give it an hour or two."

He spent that time poking at his new machine but even with him and Jarvis throwing ideas at it, when the two hours were up they still didn't know how to work it. It was some sort of mass power storage but beyond that Tony was coming up blank.

"I've informed Captain Rogers that you are awake and he is once again requesting entry."

"Denied. Open up a channel instead." The slight hiss told him that Jarvis had complied. "Why are you so desperate to get in here?"

There was a short pause in which Tony imagined Steve jumping slightly at the sudden voice. The image was more amusing that it should have been. "I wanted to speak to you." He didn't sound apologetic.

"So. Speak."

"I meant face to face Tony."

"Not about to happen. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, stop pestering Jarvis."

"I wasn't pestering," Steve said. He sounded affronted but Tony couldn't bring himself to care. Let the fucker feel affronted - he'd made Tony feel worse. "Can you stop acting like a child and let me in? I just want to talk."

He said that as though it should be comforting; what a joke. Tony was more afraid of the Captain's words than his fists any day.

"I'm giving you one minute. Talk or shut up and leave me alone. Despite what you all seem to believe, I actually have a job and am required to work occasionally. Unless you have some new and interesting opinion on wide scale arc reactor use...?" He wasn't working, of course, but it just might be the excuse Steve needed to leave.

"Are you really not going to let me in?"

"Nope."

Steve sighed angrily. "Fine. I'm not having this conversation with you through a door."

Tony called his bluff. "Alright. Cut the channel."

"Wai-" The vague hiss cut off his protest. A second later there was the sound of someone hammering at the door though it was muted by the soundproofing.

"Let's get some music on in here Jarvis," he said. The throbbing music sent waves of pain through his head but it drowned out Steve's banging nicely. He lost himself in his work.

"Sir, Agent Barton is awake."

Tony paused in the middle of what he was doing - wiring up a basic circuit board, nothing fancy - and glanced around himself as though waking from a dream. "How is he?"

"It would seem that he is still groggy but he does not appear to have any neural damage. He should make a full recovery."

A weight Tony didn't know he'd been carrying fell from his shoulders. "That's good."

"Yes Sir. I should also inform you that he has informed the others of the circumstances of his injury, absolving you of any blame. He saw Loki attack you."

"Oh." Tony didn't really know what to do with that information. So the others knew he was innocent - great. He'd known that all along and it hadn't mattered to them; they hadn't even given him a chance to explain.

"Agent Romanov told me to tell you she was sorry she blamed you but that you probably deserved getting punched."

That drew a startled laugh from the engineer, a smile curving his lips. Natasha wasn't really someone that apologised for anything since she only acted when she was certain of her course and she'd not regret it later. That she was admitting she was wrong was a big thing. And she was probably right - Tony usually deserved a punch for one thing or another and even though it hadn't been his fault he hit the building, Clint had still gotten hurt because of him.

"Tell her she's right. Though the kick was a cheap shot."

"I shall relay the message. Captain Rogers is approaching the lab." He'd barely finished speaking when there was a pounding on the door again, more aggressively than before. Tony sighed to himself.

"Open a channel." He waited a beat, then: "I don't suppose there's any point in telling you to go away is there?"

"None at all. Open the damn door Tony." The engineer didn't move. "Clint's awake."

"I know."

There was a moment of surprised silence. "How do you know that? I came straight here."

"I have an AI remember? And security cameras. And general omnipotency wherever there are computer systems."

Steve sighed softly, the simple exhale full of defeat. "Look, can you just let me in? I know you're angry with me and you have every right to be. At least let me apologise to your face. Then I'll go."

It was a tempting offer. There was a mean, vindictive part of Tony that wanted to let him in just to see the shame on his face. But then, the same part also wanted to leave him outside the door to stew in his own misery. Tony ignored both those opinions.

As much as he hated to admit it, Steve did have a point: this conversation needed to be had and eventually he was going to have to face it. It was better to just get it over with in the controlled environment of his lab, rather than later on the helicarrier or somewhere else just as public. But there was also the problem that their argument was still fresh in his mind, constantly on the fringes of his thoughts, mocking him with cold words and harsh taunts.

Very slowly, Tony poked tapped his door code onto the tablet beside him.

Steve looked tired. His normally perfect hair was dishevelled and sticking up, blue eyes dull and ringed with purple smudges - it looked like he hadn't slept since their fight with Loki. Knowing Steve, it was likely that he hadn't. At least someone had insisted he went and had a shower and got changed; Tony didn't think he'd be able to face the blonde in his uniform right now, looking so much like his childhood hero.

He wouldn't meet Tony's eyes, staring resolutely at his chest instead, just above his arc reactor. The engineer had the sudden irrational desire to cover the little circle of light but he beat it down, forcing himself not to move from where he was slouched in his chair.

Whatever cruel hopes Tony had at seeing Steve look defeated were snuffed out. The Captain looked... surprised. That wasn't what he'd been expecting.

"You look like hell Tony," Steve said eventually, eyes darting over the engineer before returning to the spot on his chest. On instinct Tony glanced down at himself, seeing rumpled clothes covered in engine oil and tiny metal filings. His hands were patterned with a myriad of cuts and grazes, with a few burns here and there - it was hard to be careful with power tools when you were drunk.

"You don't look so great either, you know," he replied after a moment. "I don't think Barton would have minded if you went and got some rest while he was napping."

"It wasn't Clint keeping me awake." He hesitated, taking a deep breath. He looked ready to launch himself into a prepared speech before he sagged all of a sudden, exhaustion crossing his features. "Tony. What I said to you... I felt bad as soon as I said it. I was angry and worried about Clint and I shouldn't have let it get the better of me but I did." His words were flowing faster and faster. "It's not even true, any of it, I just wasn't thinking and then-"

Tony cut him off before he started growing incoherent. "Woah there Cap. Deep breath. Try and pause between sentences." It was a basic reaction to stress, trying to cover his emotions with humour.

Steve did as instructed and sucked in a deep calming breath. His eyes closed for a moment as he tried to construct what he wanted to say. "I didn't mean it. Any of it. Saying something like that was awful of me and I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave me for it. What happened to Clint was not your fault and I didn't even give you the chance to explain before I condemned you for it." His eyes were sad, as though he was expecting Tony to tell him to leave again. Something told the engineer that if he did, Steve would leave without complaint and wouldn't come knocking again.

Tony didn't say anything. What could he say? He wasn't ready to forgive him but then, he wasn't quite ready to forgive himself.

Steve looked resigned. "You were wrong you know. I don't think you're unworthy of this team. Not ever. You've got more right to be here than anyone. We need you Tony, even if we don't say it often enough." He turned to leave, shoulders slumped and steps weary. The engineer let him get to the door before he spoke.

"Tell Clint I'm sorry."

The Captain looked over his shoulder as though he was going to argue, to protest but he just sighed again, and left without a word.

It was another two days and four bottles of scotch later before Tony decided he was ready to face Clint. He hauled himself upstairs to have a shower and forced himself to eat something (he was starting to get quite faint from his unintended fast).

Once he could delay himself no longer, he set off down to the infirmary. Normally, when a team mate was injured they'd be taken to the nearest hospital for immediate treatment but once they were out of a critical condition, they'd be moved to the state of the art infirmary within the tower. It was nice for the team to be able to stick together and the doctors were keen on anything that meant they didn't have a team of superheroes sat on their doorstep.

When he reached Clint's room, the only other person there was Natasha, who took one glance at him, squeezed Clint's hand and left in silence.

Barton looked alright, considering he was 90% bandage. With both legs and an arm in plaster he could barely move but he was awake and looked at Tony with tired eyes.

"I was wondering when you were going to sober up enough to get your ass down here."

"Who said I was drunk?"

Clint rolled his eyes. "What? You think Jarvis only works one way? He watches us for you and watches you for us."

"You were spying on me through Jarvis?" He felt a strange combination of pride and outrage.

"You never specifically forbade me from passing on information about your condition Sir," Jarvis intoned. He didn't sound sorry in the slightest.

"That's... a disturbing thought."

"Get used to it. If you programme him not to, Natasha will kick your ass."

"Having been on the receiving end of Natasha's kicks, it's not my ass I'm worried about."

Clint chuckled before he turned sombre. "I'm sorry about all of that by the way. It wasn't your fault. They shouldn't have blamed you for it."

Tony was unwilling to face that right now so he just shrugged in a what-can-you-do kind of gesture. The archer refused to accept it.

"No Tony, don't do that. Don't act like this isn't a big deal. It wasn't your fault. Tell me you at least know that."

The engineer sighed wearily. "I should have done something. Anything! You almost got killed because I wasn't paying attention."

"You were paying plenty of attention. I saw you paying attention right up until a big bolt of green fire hit you in the face. Tony, there was nothing you could have done. I know you've got all kinds of guilt complexes, don't make this one of them. Anyway, I'm going to be fine." He used his uninjured hand to gesture to his body.

Tony raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Yeah, you look fighting fit."

"Well, at least I have Tasha to nurse me back to health."

He grimaced slightly before he smiled. "God that sounds terrifying. Is that terrifying?"

"Kind of."

"Still, it's better than Thor being a nursemaid. He almost took off my hand when he tried to change a drip the last time I was in here." Neither of them mentioned the fact that it used to be Pepper who sat at Tony's bedside.

Clint laughed before he stopped himself, going pale. A hand came up to clutch at his ribcage. "D'you reckon Banner would let me borrow some of his sedatives?"

"Are you kidding? He's got stuff that could knock out Thor without breaking a sweat - he's not going to let a puny human like you near it."

"Puny?"

"You heard me."

"Remind me of this moment once I'm out of all these casts. I'll show you just how puny I am."

Tony gulped but it was only a joke. The both of them knew that if the engineer challenged Clint when he was out of his suit he'd be dead six times before he hit the floor. He trusted the archer not to try and kill him no matter what he said.

Something had relaxed in Tony during the conversation - maybe that had been Barton's intention - and he could feel some of the stress that had been choking him release. It was almost strange to be able to breathe freely again. Of course, that meant only one thing: he needed to talk to Steve. Thankfully Barton seemed content to leave that topic alone until Tony was just about to leave.

"Look man, you have to talk to the Captain." Clint's eyes were earnest as the met Tony's, burning with a desire for him to understand, to accept.

The engineer nodded. "I know. I just needed to see you first."

"And get your own head right?"

"Something like that. I'll go and find him now."

"Good luck."

Steve was pounding punching bags when Tony caught up to him and for a moment the engineer lingered in the doorway, content to observe the Captain as he vented his frustrations on inanimate objects. He must have heard him though, because he turned to face him.

Then froze when he saw who it was.

"Ah, Tony- I- uh-" he stammered, looking desperately around the room, as though hoping there was someone else there who could offer a distraction. He came up empty handed.

"Calm down Steve, I just wanted to talk to you." It didn't seem to calm the blonde down in the slightest but he made no move to try and escape the situation either. Tony would count that as a win. "I'm not going to apologise, I'll say that now. I know I snapped at you but honestly? You were being a dick. You kind of deserved that one. However-" Steve made to reply but Tony cut right through his words, "-what you said the other day in my workshop was enough. If you're looking for forgiveness, you have it."

The Captain jolted slightly. "You- you mean that?"

"I wouldn't consider myself cruel enough to make a joke like this."

Steve shook his head ardently. "That's not what I meant. But... I didn't think..."

"It was a crappy situation. You were stressed and we've never exactly got on. You drew a conclusion and followed it. Of course, I'd rather you'd actually listened to me but there you have it. What's done is done Steve. We're supposed to move on from these things I hear."

It wasn't an apology but Tony didn't want it to be. He wasn't sorry for anything that he'd done, except for getting Clint hurt and that had nothing to do with Steve - besides, the archer had already forgiven him. Now, he just wanted this whole thing behind him.

"Tony... I was awful. I turned on you in an instant for something you didn't even do and you're just going to forgive me? Just like that?"

"Pretty much. If the punching bags are any indication, you've been torturing yourself over this enough for the both of us." Steve looked too surprised to speak. "I do have one request however."

"Of course! Anything."

Tony hesitated, still not sure he wanted to bring this subject up but knowing that he had to. It was time to clear the air. "Don't ever compare me to my father again."

There was a very still moment in which Tony could almost see the questions bubbling below Steve's skin before he was able to repress them and offer his team mate a solemn nod. The engineer took pity.

"Look, there's far too much to explain but know this. The man that was my father was not the man you knew. Once you were lost, he... changed. Or so I'm told. The Howard that 'raised' me was someone who didn't care about anything other than his company and finding you. The two parts of his great legacy. He was a man that wanted to change the world but somewhere along the way he forgot that that world included his wife and son."

Steve was pale. "He wasn't a good father?"

Tony gave a short bark of humourless laughter. "Not so much that. More that he just wasn't a father. He was never there. When he was he fought with my mum, drank too much and generally made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me. I think he'd hoped I'd be more like you. When I turned out like him... I guess he was disappointed."

"But why?" It looked like he hadn't been able to hold the question in and he regretted it. "I mean... You're a genius. I've looked through all the old magazines and papers; you were a prodigy. Brilliant. A son any father should be proud of."

"Perhaps," Tony said philosophically. He was actually a little touched by Steve's praise. "But Howard didn't want a genius. He wanted you. I find there's a certain dark irony in the fact that he'd hoped I would be like you and you'd hoped I'd be more like him." He shrugged like he didn't care. "Such is life."

Steve was shaking his head, a dawning horror on his face. "That's not... I don't..." He couldn't quite deny it though.

"Don't feel bad about it Rogers. My god, don't do that. I'm not unaware of how bizarre this new world must seem to you and I get that you're searching for anything that might link to the past. I'm sorry I can't be more help but the truth is I hated my father. I think he hated me too. But the point is, I've spent my whole life trying to be as different from him as I could possibly be."

"It shouldn't have been like that. Howard shouldn't have forsaken you on my account. No son should have to hate their own father."

"Have you spoken to Bruce lately? Or Clint? Or Loki I guess, though he might just be crazy, it's hard to tell. What I'm saying is: this world has a lot of dead beat dads. Compared to them, Howard was pretty damn perfect."

"But he wasn't."

"No, he wasn't." Tony raised a shoulder in a half shrug, grimacing at the Captain. "I used to hate him. Now? I don't know. I think maybe I should have tried to be more understanding with a man who had been damaged by war. He didn't come out of the Manhattan Project without his fair share of demons. He lost you and that doctor and then Peggy left... Maybe I'm not so different from him after all."

Steve shook his head. "That doesn't have to be the curse you think it is. Howard might have been terrible to you but he wasn't always like that. What I saw was a genius who was willing to give his life for a cause greater than himself because he couldn't stand to watch innocent people get hurt. Is that such a poor inheritance?"

Tony didn't have a reply to that. It was a fair point, he supposed but it wasn't like he could just forgive Howard his faults there and then - he'd built up too much resentment over the last forty years for that. But he'd been working through it, ever since he found that old film and this was something to think on.

He sighed. He was too tired to think through it all now. "I'm going back to the lab. I'm working on... something."

"Something?"

"Yeah. I haven't actually got a clue what it is. Want to come up and see? Maybe you could work it out."

"If it's something you made, I think the chances of me understanding it are slim to none." Still, he looked torn.

"Come on. Give those poor punching bags a rest. I can show you some of the other stuff I've been working on. There's a new device that can send a radio signal through fourteen inches of lead and-"

Steve wandered out of the room with him, patiently listening to all the techno-babble he hadn't got a hope of understanding, offering hums and nods at the correct pauses in conversation. He was just grateful Tony didn't call on him to offer an opinion.

I don't know what happened, don't ask. I think this is the first Avengers thing I've written where Tony and Pepper have broken up which is weird. I love the pairing and will defend it to the death but this story worked better if she was out of the way.

Anyways, I'd love to hear what you think, as always.

EDIT: A few people have been saying that they wish Tony hadn't forgiven Steve so easily and I do see your point. It was just that I wanted this to be a short story and didn't want it to drag out longer than it should do. Also, I don't see this as the end of the argument, more of a temporary truce to be discussed at a later date, so that's something. And I didn't real feel like writing Widow so she was just written out. Sorry if you didn't like it but I'm not going to change it now.