penistower | If you know what's good for you, stay away from me.

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If you know what's good for you, stay away from me.

Tony had felt extremely out of the loop following everything. Between Clint and his family and all the team seeming to want nothing to do with him, he had more or less left it be. He and Pepper had had some major date nights to catch up on and Steve and Nat seemed busy training everyone besides. As much as he missed them... Well, frankly, he doesn't feel missed himself and so he stays out of it. At least, overtly.

There had been some interesting bit of intel he'd overheard at the party. Between the Falcon and Cap, no less. Steve's new friend he seemed to trust above the Avengers. Objectively, Tony couldn't fault it. But his gut twisted with the knowledge. He kept it to himself, however, getting to work on his own in secret. It doesn't take long to track down the Winter Soldier all things considered, but he doesn't dare spook him by letting him know he's found. He knows it's time to let Steve in on the secret, but he fears what the other man will think.

He invites him over under false pretenses, not like all their other circumstances hadn't been. They hadn't seen each other since Tony had left HQ, and though he knew a disgusting amount about Steve, no Captain America trivia will help him with this meeting. Tony jumps when F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces the arrival of Cap and his bike, trying to pull himself together enough to tell Steve he went behind his back one more time. Not like he's any stranger to the sensation, but no one seemed to think anything of betraying him and so neither did Tony in the end.

"Hey, pal," he greets warmly, clapping Steve on the shoulder as he shows him in. "How's... everything? Everyone. Do you want coffee? Or, we could order something." He's doing that nervous thing again. Tony swallows and waits for Steve to speak.

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Steve doesn't even spare it all another look. Maybe that makes him a bad person. He never asks why Tony wanted to lead into the reveal with a movie and pizza of all things. All he can think about is reaching Bucky. Tony's become a means to an end in completing his mission. Not even Sam comes to mind despite the fact he's far more qualified to deal with this.

One thing is going through his mind as they put the city behind them. Steve looks at the window as he murmurs to himself incredulously, "He's in driving distance?" The search for Bucky has taken him just about everywhere. He never imagined he'd be this close.

Tony swallows, white knuckles gripping the wheel. "Yeah," he breathes, knowing it was relatively easy to find Bucky for a reason, but it still held: Steve could have just asked him and achieved this same result. He would never even think of doing that, despite trusting in a man he'd met months ago in DC. Not that he thinks his trust in Sam Wilson is necessarily misplaced, but you better believe he's read up on him after their brief meeting. "He's only a few hours out."

Steve doesn't say anything right away. He works his jaw, betraying his frustration with his inability to find Bucky on his own. It passes after a minute. In its place the obvious questions start flooding into his head. They have hours to go. It's more than enough time to reflect on how they got here in the first place.

"Why were you looking for him?" He knows it can't be revenge. If Tony wanted to kill the Winter Soldier, he wouldn't have brought him along. Tony is a lot of things, but stupid and cruel are neither of them. The other possible reasons escape Steve. As far as he can tell there are no more things to motivate Tony to help with the search.

"Because you were." It's quick, obviously sincere. He keeps his hands on 10 and 2 and his eyes ahead, but he's paying rapt attention to Steve in this moment. He found Bucky for Steve, not himself. That remains true now.

Even Steve isn't dense enough to miss that sincerity. He tears his eyes from the outside to Tony. For the first time, he regrets shutting Tony out of this. "You wanted to help me even after I kept quiet about him." Statement not question. He does wonder why considering how upset he was about Tony's secrets.

Yeah, you're my hero. It's a tiny, child-sized version of his voice, but it's there -- insistent. He would do anything for Captain America, that's what you did as a kid growing up in New York without a father figure. Shit, this is getting deep. Tony glances over.

"We're Avengers." That's what an adult would say, right? Just as insistent; just as bald. His eyes go back to the road, drawn like magnets. For all that people might think Tony Stark to be a rash driver he was the opposite since he was orphaned by a drunken car crash. The voice inside him laughs -- he drives like a pragmatist because of a lie he was told at twenty-one. He thinks of Obadiah then, his jaw clenching. We're family, or at the very least teammates. He wants to scream, but he says nothing. He drives the speed limit and schools his breathing.

Silence stretches out again on Steve's end. That means something to him. Hell it means everything to him. The Avengers is about the only thing he believes in despite how bad things went with Ultron and Sokovia. "I was afraid you wouldn't believe me." He confesses softly. Steve takes his eyes off Tony and trains them back towards the window.

He lets out a soft laugh. "It sounds convenient, doesn't it? Delusional. My best friend didn't mean to kill all those people. He didn't mean to try to kill me, Nat, and Sam. HYDRA and the Russians hollowed him out 'til there wasn't a person in there." His voice wavers at the last part. He corrects himself to sound more even at the rest. "There are files. A deeply buried paper trail. Nat got it as a favor to me. It's proof of the Russians involvement at the very least. It wouldn't prove he didn't make the choice to kill How- your parents."

Tony holds up his hand Steve's way before putting it back on the wheel. His meaning is clear: Don't continue. Stop talking. Etc. He sighs, he doesn't think he can hear him say those words right now even less than the man seems equipped to say them.

"Maybe I wouldn't." Have believed him. Maybe it was something he had to find for himself. "But I know that if you didn't believe he was in there he wouldn't be alive." So really, he isn't sure what to believe at all, himself. Not anymore.

He nods and waits for Tony to finish before speaking up again. "There was a moment before I fell into the river. I think he realized what he was doing. He looked down at me and he was just horrified by what he saw." He doesn't think he has to explain why. The side of his face was beaten in pretty badly even when he woke up and found a mirror. He can only imagine how it looked before the serum started stitching the skin back together.

"I think he was the one to fish me out too. I should have drowned."

This is why he came along, and he shoots Cap a sharp look as they make the steady climb up the onramp for the interstate. "You have like, zero self-preservation, dude. Not cool." This from the guy who flew a nuke into space, so, yeah, maybe he can't judge. Still, it would be nice to hear these things, to be considered. He sighs out through his nose and tries in vain to stay calm. Driving is helping as much as it's hurting, but at least he has to stay focused on something.

"I'm choosing to believe you now. That's how this works." Even if he hadn't been dealt that same consideration with Ultron, he doesn't care about that now. It's forward, not back. He wants to do this for Steve, and yes it would be nice to have some answers too, but Tony isn't as optimistic that Bucky will have them. Or ever remember who he was. He already made himself a part of this, however, and he's not backing out now.

It gets under his skin largely because Tony is guilty of the same. It's one thing when Tony never points out his reckless behavior. The second he does, Steve considers it permission to finally nail him for it. He returns that sharp look with one of his own though he doesn't sound angry. He's annoyed if anything since Tony's follow up softened the blow. He really does appreciate that Tony is taking him on word.

"Look who's talking. When it came down to it, you did the exact same thing I did back in New York."

That gets a laugh. It's hollowed out like the place he goes every time he thinks of that moment; the vaccuum of space. To him, it's nowhere near the same thing, but he can understand the comparison if not welcome it. "Do you want to know what the difference between me and you is?" It's said with a dark humor, but it's a genuine question: if Steve says 'no' he'll keep it to himself.

That laugh sends a chill down Steve's spine. He might have rolled his eyes or dismissed the question if not for it. He finds himself dreading the answer as much as he needs it. "I want to know what you think it is."

Another glance is shot Steve's way, this one sharp like glass but jagged; not a clean break. "I only pick fights I think I can win." He may be spectacularly fucked up, but he doesn't have an actual death wish. Cap does. It's infuriating, and he's sick of playing the world's smallest fiddle for a guy who doesn't even care if he lives or if he dies.

He lets out a humorless sigh in response. "You and I have very different ideas about winning." Steve knows he isn't wrong. He has no personal stake in his fights unlike Tony. It's part of what makes him so effective. His focus never strays to himself. He only wants to get the people around him home. He genuinely doesn't see the problem with that.

"I know." That's all he says for a long time, he's given up on ever truly seeing eye-to-eye with Cap. He's still glad he got that out all the same. He speaks up again almost ten minutes later, conflict tugging his face in different directions even while his eyes remain glued ahead.

"Whatever happens in there... When we see him. I--" He bites into his lip, what is there to say, really? This is the mother of all fucked up situations and of course he volunteered himself. "I hope it's what you're looking for." Tony isn't confident it will be at all, but he's willing to take this chance for him. Why, he still doesn't exactly know. Or refuses to pinpoint it, in any case.

Steve doesn't say anything at first. How can he without turning into the most shut down mess the world has ever seen? The brightening of his eyes is reflected in the window. What he wants is to go back in time and have none of this happen. He can never admit to that; to wanting to go back. He's here now. The most realistic crazy dream he can have is this:

"I just want him to get better." He adds in because it is worth saying, "And thanks."

"Don't thank me." That feels weird, like a transaction. He never wanted things to be so cold between them and yet here they were. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Does Tony want Bucky to get better? If he's even Bucky anymore. If he even can be, is that even remotely something he's okay with?

Probably not. But this is already out of his hands and spiralling so fast. "I've got your back." It's all he can say that's true, pulling a strange pair of glasses out of his jacket pocket and putting them on. He hopes he won't need the weapon he'd brought; he always hopes. Seldom does it ever work out that way however.

He almost thanks him again before realizing it's not what Tony needs to hear right now. Steve goes with the only safe and honest thing he can offer up under the circumstances. "I've got your back too." He didn't let the Winter Soldier help murder all those people including Tony before. He won't let a scared, confused Bucky murder him now.

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