shield | open post.

[ For all that he is hanging on Tony's next words, desperate to know that he hasn't just shattered the budding ease between the two of them, Steve ends up not hearing any of it. Stabbing pain shoots from the knuckles on his right hand all the away up to his shoulder blades. It knocks the breath out of him in a sudden huff, the pain inexplicably on par with that of his left arm, which had actual contact with the gauntlet.

Maybe referred pain packs more of a punch when the injury is gauntlet-induced. It's an unconvincing theory, but he doesn't have any others. ]

Might've spoken too soon about that drawing hand. [ He grits his teeth, waiting for the pain to stop radiating. It ebbs away little by little. ]

[Literally anything is preferable to talking about Bucky Barnes - hence Tony's attempt to quickly change the topic - but he still frowns and tilts his head.]

Still numb from chucking around lightning bolts?

[Because Tony can see the bandages from his injury on Steve's left side, and he knows full well he's right-handed. It doesn't quite add up, although that might be the lingering effects of the painkillers in his system.]

No, it's— [ Steve frowns down at his right hand, then looks over to Tony. He was prepared to dismiss it, but maybe Tony wasn't so far off. ] Actually, you might be onto something there. Maybe lightning powers come with residual side effects for us mortals.

Inasmuch as you qualify as mortal, anyway.

[Sure, there's a scientific reason why Steve survived crashing a plane into the Arctic and being frozen in a block of ice for decades, but Tony also has a few suspicions about potential side effects of the serum and its rapid cellular regeneration.

It's just a joke, though. Really.]

Electricity causes the coolest burn scars, though. I'm kinda jealous.

[...says a man who has narrowly avoided electrocution more than once in the course of his life as a mad scientist.]

[ Once upon a time, Tony's jab about Steve's mortality would have struck a nerve, more than likely escalating into yet another explosive argument. Maybe the years really have mellowed Steve, or maybe he's still a little high on success, stunned that their insane plan actually worked.

He allows for the possibility that for Tony, Steve not being wholly mortal has more to do with the highly fictionalized story of Captain America that Tony was raised on. Tony doesn't know that every time Steve watches his body improbably stitch itself back together, he worries that he'll eventually lose grip on the mortal experience and forget how it feels to be truly human.

It's an irrational fear (probably) but one that stays with him. The part where he isn't lashing out at Tony for inadvertently stepping on an emotional landmine, however, is new. Maybe they really can go up from here.

Steve finds it surprisingly easy to skip over the hurdle and move on to Tony's next line. He frowns back at Tony, an exaggerated display of skepticism. ]

I'm sure you have your fair share, the way you run around sticking your finger in electric sockets. [ It might have been a criticism, once, but now Steve's tone is fond. Maybe a little too fond for someone still trying to keep his errant feelings under wraps, but it's an improvement from where they started. ]

For science, [Tony defends himself with a grin. Maybe time apart from each other was what they'd needed - if only because now that he has Steve back, he doesn't want to risk driving him away again. But he's barely willing to admit that to himself, let alone anyone else, and definitely not Steve. Steve doesn't really need him, anyway, not now that they've brought everyone else back. Part of Tony just hopes he'll stick around.

So maybe that leads him to take a deep breath and fidget with the hem of his jacket a little.]

So. Do you think I should pick a different piece of land to rebuild?

[ Steve shakes his head a little, thinking on it. His chest deflates on a sigh. He doesn't know how to feel, not least because he has felt like a trespasser whenever he set foot on the compound within the last several years.

But it is nice of Tony to pretend he values Steve's input. Steve recognizes the olive branch for what it is, and this time, he is quick to accept.

Despite his own personal feelings, he realizes there is only one right answer. ]

No, I uh— [ He pauses to clear his throat, already feeling a lump forming. ] I think Nat would want us to stay.

Yeah, I wasn't-

[He coughs, takes a drink of water to clear his throat.]

I wasn't sure. [Tony looks away, blinking quickly for a moment.] Just didn't know if it would feel right to build there. But you're right, it's what she would have wanted.

[He glances back at Steve, tries to act casual.] I'll probably spend some time there. You know, in an advisory capacity.

[And they both know exactly how 'advisory' he'll manage to remain, but he can at least pretend for now.

[ He takes that in for a moment, nodding softly. Steve hasn't given much thought to what he'll do now, but he imagines it won't look too different from what he was doing before. Demand for counseling is likely to skyrocket, so at the very least he ought to keep the group going. He can rope Sam in, maybe even Bucky.

He sneaks a quick glance at Tony, wondering if he'd be interested. Something to consider.

As for the topic at hand... ] Advisory, huh? You handing the reins over to Rhodes? Or is Carol sticking around?

[ Natasha was responsible for keeping The Avengers running, even if she had to hold the various scattered pieces together herself. Those are big shoes to fill.

(Steve does not, for even one second, consider himself as an option. Leaders who spark insurrection in the ranks are typically disqualified from the role.) ]

[Tony just huffs, and the sound is a combination of wry and amused.] Was I ever really the leader, Steve?

[Not like they'd had a team when he was gone, after all. When it comes down to it, Steve is the Avengers in a way Tony had always hoped for, but never achieved. (He has to admit that his ego really doesn't lend itself to leadership positions.) Tony doesn't know what can be done on the legal side of things, but considering that he's just saved Earth (and the rest of the universe), getting taken off the Most Wanted list should be a given. And if it's not, there's a whole bunch of overpaid lawyers sitting around with nothing to do right now.]

Can't imagine Danvers staying here when she has a whole universe to take care of, anyway. [Plus Carol scares him a little bit.]

[ Steve meant what he said in his letter to Tony, even if there were probably several hundred better ways to say it. He sees The Avengers as a family, yes, but more so Tony's— and especially now, Natasha's— than his. Growing up, it was just him and his mom, and after she died, Steve never overcame his stubborn need to assert independence.

(Sure, he had legitimate legal concerns, and the entire accords ordeal smelled rotten from the start, but Steve knows that he could have tried harder to find common ground with Tony. He expects he'll always live with that regret.)

As for Tony's question, Steve rolls his eyes with equal parts exasperation and self-deprecation. ] I think we've established I'm not the authority on leadership that I was made out to be. You sure you don't wanna give it a shot?

I think that Fury's assessment that I don't play well with others was more accurate than I may have previously admitted.

[Yes, he's just stating the obvious, but Tony's just trying to reach out to Steve here. Sometimes that means acknowledging his flaws, which is also not something he's good at. He can't help it; he's been arrogant his whole life, even after learning a lesson about humility (several lessons about humility, but who's counting?) at gunpoint. It's just who he is.]

Look, if you really don't want to, we'll figure something out. But I think you're the best man for the job.

[Assuming that they still have a team, which is a little debatable.]

[ Tony's words have Steve's head snapping up so fast that he feels it in his injured shoulder, the muscles in his neck pulling just enough to sting. It isn't the violent flare up from earlier but it makes him hiss out sharply.

Steve doesn't know what to make of Tony's seemingly fully restored faith in him. Tony forgiving him because resentment is corrosive is still a ways off from believing he's worthy of leading The Avengers again. ]

Maybe it's a two man job. [ The suggestion escapes Steve before he can think any better of it. It has all the makings of a terrible idea but it would give him a reason to stay, a place to occupy in Tony's life. That's something he was afraid to admit he wanted until it began to seem like an actual possibility. ]

[Tony finds himself rubbing at his neck suddenly, but he chalks it up to - well, everything, basically. Even a nanite suit can't absorb every blow, as much as he might wish otherwise. What's strange is that Steve hisses in pain at the same time. It makes something stir in the depths of Tony's mind, but he can't manage to put it together.]

You think Wilson's leadership material? [he retorts dryly. Nothing against Sam, really, he just wants to fuck with Steve a little, and he's going to leave the elephant in the room alone.]

[ There's enough humor in Tony's voice to keep alive that newly ignited flicker of hope. But first, two can play at this game. ]

Now that you mention it, that's actually not a bad idea. [ Steve gives his best effort to look like he's seriously considering it, if only for the brief time he can sustain it before he's looking back at Tony, shaking his head. ]

But I meant you. Unless you think working well together was just a one-time fluke.

[ His aggressively easygoing tone doesn't betray how desperately Steve is hoping the answer is no. ]

[Sam probably is better leadership material than Tony - he's certainly better at getting along with people (although who isn't?). But Tony isn't going to turn down this olive branch, even though he imagines they'll both end up regretting it in the not-too-distant future.]

As long as you don't nearly kill yourself trying to save my life again.

[They both know it'll happen.]

[ That goes much easier than Steve anticipated, which gives him further reason to believe this isn't just Tony being exceedingly accommodating. If he truly didn't want Steve around, he had every opportunity to object.

Saving the universe went better the second time around. Who's to say the same can't be true for their working relationship?

As long as they're discussing terms, however: ]

Don't jump on any more grenades and I won't have to.

[ Steve Rogers, patron saint of "do as I say, not as I do." ]

You realize that story's in your assessment, right?

[And he's heard it before anyway, but Tony thinks it best not to mention that. He'll just pretend that it's due entirely to obsessively reading the files on Steve - okay, that doesn't sound any better than "my adoptive aunt who's also your ex told me over pancakes at Sunday brunch when I was ten". But at least he can pretend his interest in the files is purely professional.]

I have a suit that's designed to withstand small-scale explosives.

[Not that he wants to test it on a literal grenade unless he gets to incorporate vibranium into his suit.]

Is it? [ That surprises him, but it shouldn't. There were countless servicemen on base that day; any one of them could have relayed the story. (Steve doesn't consider that Peggy could be the source because he is reasonably sure that he has already tracked down every last audio or video recording and print interview she ever gave about him. [The SHIELD therapist that evaluated him back in 2012 called it masochism, but Steve would not be dissuaded.]) ]

"Small-scale explosives," [ Steve repeats, shaking his head. There is sarcasm in his voice now, but it isn't mean-spirited: ] Good thing we never fight anyone with more firepower than your garden variety IED, huh?

[Even after more than a decade, Tony still visibly flinches at the words 'garden variety IED'. He knows Steve doesn't mean anything by it - god knows he's made enough verbal missteps - but Tony still has nightmares about the explosion, about waking up in the cave.

(He wonders for a moment if Steve ever dreams about crashing into the ocean, if he was even conscious for that part, if his memory would concoct it for him.)

Tony takes a drink of water and forces a neutral expression back onto his face.]

Yeah, well, I do the best I can with the materials available. This isn't Wakanda, you know.

[ Steve is familiar enough with his body's panic response to recognize the sudden, unprovoked hammering of his heart against his rib cage and the bolts of pins-and-needles traveling up his extremities. After everything his body has been through, a delayed panic attack sounds perfectly reasonable, but why now?

He made Tony flinch. The last time that happened, Steve was raising his shield over the arc reactor. Maybe he made the connection subconsciously the memory is what set him off.

Steve is more concerned about what triggered Tony, and it doesn't take a genius to pinpoint the exact words. ]

That was... a really stupid thing to say to you. [ He looks directly at Tony, his expression serious. This is the kind of straightforward communication Steve has always failed at, especially when it comes to Tony, and he can't let himself off the hook if he ever hopes to improve. ] I'm sorry, Tony. I should've thought it through.

I talked about explosives first. It's- it's not your fault.

[Tony remembers the panic attacks he used to have - not about Afghanistan, but about riding a nuke into space and knowing the portal would shut behind him. About giving up everything - about the possibility of sacrificing everything and still not being enough. This...this is small-scale, relatively speaking, which doesn't really help calm him down at all. He rubs his thumb over the fingers of his uninjured hand, tries to steady his breathing.]

Talk about something else.

[He needs to divert his thoughts, and he can't do that on his own right now.]

[ Steve opens his mouth to object because he can't stop himself. Aggressively assuming responsibility for even minor missteps is the quickest way to silence the constant dread that he will screw up again, next time in even bigger ways than before. It's hard to trust yourself again when your failures have the direct consequence of eliminating half of all life in the entire universe. That, and the fact that Steve Rogers could never help being dramatic.

But then Tony implores him to change the subject, and the urge to prostrate himself at Tony's feet— see, dramatic— is replaced with the need to fulfill this one very simple thing asked of him.

A conveniently timed growl of Steve's stomach delivers him a perfectly inoffensive change of topic. ]

I could eat. [ His stomach emphasizes that understatement with another gurgling noise. ] What's open for takeout?

[Tony huffs a breathless laugh. Of course Steve's asking about food. The man's practically a human garbage disposal.]

You can always eat. You could eat an entire goddamn turkey by yourself and still find room for a pumpkin pie. [But it's an affectionate tease, or as affectionate as Tony gets.] I think the answer the doctors would want to hear is the hospital cafeteria, but frankly, saving the world oughta be worth at least a cheeseburger and fries.

[He doesn't even bother with takeout - instead he takes his phone and starts tapping out an order, resting the phone in his lap.]

How many for you?

You always leave room for dessert. [ Steve delivers this with a shrug, as if consuming a Thanksgiving spread's worth of food is commonplace. It's remarkable how easy it is to fall into rhythm with Tony's teasing when he isn't taking every word as a personal attack. ]

Two. [ This is Steve's first answer. He rethinks immediately; he couldn't convince himself of that anymore than he could convince Tony. ] No, four.

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