Chapter Text
Tony came back smelling like the sea.
Steve waited forty agonizing minutes before he used his override codes to enter the locked suite. Tony was stepping out of the shower, skin pink from hot water and scrubbing, but intact, whole, alive. Steve just crossed the room and hugged him tight, buried his nose in Tony’s still dripping hair and inhaled, hunting for the familiar scent he once knew so well. That mix of metal shavings, ionized air, and Tony. He couldn’t find it. Not under the soft water, the shampoo, the body wash, the generic scent of exhaustion and relief.
Instead he found the ocean: endless and clear. Pleasant enough, but nothing like Steve remembered.
That’s when he saw the bite: the blush pink of a bondmark at the crux of neck and shoulder, years old. Tony’s throat had been bare when he left.
(Steve had asked gently, twice. Tony had turned him down; once gently, once not.)
Tony didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, so about that.”
Steve let go.
————————————
Tony had been missing for five months before Bucky and Logan brought him back.
The dimensional veil had rules. Only people who were dead on the other side could cross it. Tony hadn’t known that when he strolled through but the portal spat back the Avengers’ rescue parties, one by one. Steve couldn’t make it across. Neither could Natasha, Rhodes, Carol, Thor, Janet, Peter, Bruce, or Stephen. At first it was a comfort: knowing that wherever Tony was he had versions of the Avengers with him. Later Steve would wonder if that wasn’t the worst part.
After four months of Richards and Strange running experiments, Peter had disappeared through the veil and wasn’t kicked back. He reappeared two minutes and forty-three seconds later in central Philadelphia. He insisted he’d been on the other side for two and a half days.
“Time dilation and spacial displacement,” Reed tried to explain. “Spacetime is stretching at different rates along different axes. We don’t have enough data, all our monitoring equipment disintegrated across the membrane. Maybe if we…”
Strange had been more accessible. “Stark’s armour would have disintegrated when he walked through. By our clock he’s been missing for five months,” a pause, “for him it’s been closer to three and a half years.”
Something in Steve stuttered.
“I never made it through the portal before,” Peter said, voice shaking, “why now?”
The veil shimmered ominously.
Somewhere on the other side, Peter Parker had died.
———————————————
The rescue party comprised Bucky and Logan. Both dead or non-existent on the other side, both willing to step into the unknown.
“I’ll bring him back,” Bucky promised. He knew how much Steve longed to be going himself. Logan just huffed.
No one was fast enough to stop Peter running across the veil after them.
All three reappeared fourteen hours later in the Mojave desert. They had Tony with them.
Steve had thought it was over.
—————————
Tony didn’t hide the bondmark on his neck but he gave a different answer every time someone asked after it. Reckless one night stand was a popular one. Someone took ‘Bite me’ a bit too seriously, was another.
“I was the blushing bride to Captain America,” Tony joked when Steve had finally gathered the courage to ask. Then he sighed and his voice turned serious. “It wasn’t you, Steve. I never found you over there. Believe me, I looked.”
He sounded defeated but Steve’s stomach fluttered, flattered that Tony would seek him out. He knew not to pry further, he got his one allotted answer.
Against his will his eyes were drawn to the mark on Tony’s throat; jealousy and awe warring with each other. It was still blush pink, healed over in a perfect cicatrice, like it had been reaffirmed over and over again. Being bonded that long - in love for that long - could change a man’s scent from metal to saltwater. Steve suspected that was the sort of bond that hurt to lose.
Tony caught him staring and zipped up his sweater. Steve averted his gaze in shame.
“Shouldn’t the shock have…?” he trailed off. Bonded didn’t mean forever. Snapped bonds were survivable but even weak ones could make you ill if they were cut off too quick. Being separated from your mate across a dimensional rift had to be traumatic. Possibly fatal.
“Not that it’s any of your business but I already consulted Bruce about it. I’m fine, Steve. It wasn’t a long-term thing, I promise you.” Despite his words there was something sad in Tony’s eyes.
Steve could give a man time to grieve. He changed the subject. “What was it like on the other side?”
Tony snorted. “Dreadfully medieval, the Dark Ages give me hives. They didn’t have enough tech to do anything and when have I ever let that stop me but… ” he shook his head self-deprecatingly. “I thought I could handle it, you know? All those unenlightened people with their ideas of how the world worked… ”
Steve’s lips quirked at Tony’s annoyance. “Not much fun being the Man out of Time is it?”
Tony winced at the comparison. “I never gave you enough credit.”
“The Future had a good host.” Steve smiled and after a moment Tony matched it. “You should know there’s a bet going on about what invention you gave them first. Carol has her money on air travel, Rhodes has the machine lathe. I think Clint chose aqueducts.”
“Does Clint know what an aqueduct is?”
“I think he thought it was a type of mechanical bird that lives in water.”
There was a pause.
“An aqua duck.” Tony shook his head. “Jesus Christ.” The curse was the barest whisper, like Tony hoped not to be heard. Steve supposed in the Dark Ages such caution was warranted.
“So what do you have your money riding on, Rogers?” Tony turned, expectant.
“A suit of armour, of course.”
He was rewarded with a smile. One of Tony’s real ones, soft and slow. That, at least, hadn’t changed. Not like the swearing, not like the bite.
Or maybe Tony had changed so much that Steve couldn’t tell what was real anymore.
————————————
He was blindsided on Tuesday.
“I’m taking a hiatus from the team.”
Steve blinked up at Bruce. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere,” Bruce huffed, hands clasped in front of him, “I’ll be here working on the veil problem with Reed. I just can’t trust the Other Guy to behave himself right now. It’s not forever, I just need to get a handle on it.”
"Is it Betty?" Steve asked, aware as he said it that the question was too invasive for a man as private as Bruce. “Is there anything the Avengers can do? I can do?”
Banner paused as if considering it, then shook his head. “I’m sorry for bailing but I won’t risk it.”
“We trust you, Bruce. We trust the Hulk too, he’d never endanger innocent lives.“
“I know Cap, but he can get confused sometimes when I’m not…” Bruce sighed. “Innocent and guilty aren’t always easy to tell apart. The Other Guy might have trouble telling the difference.”
In the end there was nothing Steve could do but grant the request.
Here, Steve would later decide, was the moment he should have known something was wrong.
—————————————
Four years without the armour hadn’t dulled Tony’s battle skills nor had they honed his self-preservation instincts. One minute Iron Man was flying Hawkeye to a new vantage point, the next Steve was watching a dinosaur swallow him whole. If Morgan le Fay thought a giant lizard was going to take Tony away from Steve again she had another thing coming. He saw his opening and took it. She crumpled under Steve’s shield, went down under his left hook. Barely lifted her head to meet his crushing straight right.
Tony was gone and Steve hadn’t protected him. Again.
“Easy, Cap,” Hawkeye said over the coms, “Squishy wizard down. You made your point.”
Steve couldn’t stop. His fists hit flesh to the steady drumbeat of his heart. There was only one way she was never going to hurt anyone again. Not the people of New York, not innocent dinosaurs, not Tony -
“Hey!”
Steve felt a gauntleted hand grab his drawn-back fist. The Iron Man armour managed to shine through the layer of guts and blood overtop. “She’s down. You don’t do this, Steve.”
“She could have killed you,” Steve rasped.
“There were dinosaurs with feathers rampaging through Times Square and we were saved by you hitting a sorceress with a big metal frisbee. I promise you I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”
Steve stared at where Iron Man’s armour had bent under long sharp teeth and something dark in him quickened. “Is this fun for you, Stark?” he hissed lowly. “Because almost losing you again really isn’t fun for me.”
Steve didn’t recognize his own voice, distorted by the primitive force of his nature. All the Avengers took a half-step back. All except Tony.
“Steve…” Iron Man’s voice crackled in exasperation.
“Answer the question,” Steve growled, posture rigid and bristling. He hated this part of himself that needed to be obeyed and had the violence to enforce it. Alpha, strong and pissed off.
Everyone could read the warning. There was the barest whisper of movement as Clint knocked an arrow. Carol’s eyes burned white. Wisps of red wound around Wanda’s fingers. Balanced on the edge.
Tony retracted his helmet. He looked awful: pale and sweating with dark circles under his eyes, but he still smelled like the sea. It made Steve feel wrong-footed.
“You’re right.” Tony’s voice was serious as the grave. “I’m bleeding and I killed an innocent creature and it’s not fun. You saved me. You saved Time Square. And now we’re going home.” He edged closer. “You’re scaring me, Steve.”
Me, not us. Tony wasn’t the only one on edge - wasn't the only omega on the team even - but it was his spike of distress that choked Steve's senses. When he met Tony’s gaze he found worry and concern and perfect trust.
“Captain,” Vision said and Tony flinched at the interruption. “I can take Le Fay into custody.”
The scent of the sea made Steve light-headed. “Alright.”
He stared down at his hands. The red of his gloves hid blood well.
He wondered if Tony designed them that way on purpose.
————————————
Later he realized what was missing.
“You call me Steve.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “It’s your name. Thinking of changing it?”
“You used to call me Cap. Or any other nickname you came up with.” He grew frustrated by his own lack of argument. "Now it’s just… ”
Tony clearly thought the complaint was ridiculous. “I guess I just missed calling someone Steve. Over there it was like playing Marco Polo with no one answering. You do. It’s nice.”
It was a perfectly valid explanation. Steve couldn’t let it go.
————————————
It was the accumulation of little things. Tiny missteps that on their own meant nothing. There was the gala where the uppity senator’s aide had run his hand possessively across Tony’s back and Tony hadn’t even broken conversation. He just stood there allowing the touch and Steve nearly ripped the other alpha’s arm off, heart pounding with the effort it took to restrain himself from knocking the man out.
Afterward Tony had rounded on him. “If I wanted his arm broken, I’d have done it myself.”
Steve wasn’t going to go down without a fight. “Don’t pretend you were okay with that.”
“I was fine.” Tony’s voice was cold. “I don’t belong to you, Rogers.”
He never did and he never would, Steve knew that now. Tony belonged to a ghost.
His orbit changed. His basement lab was taken over by Reed and Bruce for the veil. Doctor Strange still dropped by weekly as if unable to break the habit. Logan of all people became a near permanent fixture in the Mansion. He’d never been a prominent fan of the Avengers or Tony in particular but now he’d lounge around the common areas at all hours. Steve was never sure if he was there for food or poker or Tony.
Bucky went the other way. He drifted as far away from Avengers Mansion as he could get, repelled like a magnet. Only Steve seemed to notice that Bucky ducked out of any room Tony entered. It didn’t seem hostile but it bothered him, even if the want for distance seemed mutual.
Peter’s separation wasn’t mutual. Everyone noticed him desperately trying to catch Tony’s attention and Tony’s equally steadfast determination to ignore him. Several people - Rhodey chief among them - had issued rebukes along the lines of I don’t care if you’re still adjusting, you can be kind to the kid who helped save your life. They didn’t work well enough. Tony was gentler sure, but he still pushed Peter away, fobbing him off on Banner or Rhodey.
After the elation of seeing Tony alive finally faded, Steve was left with the cold hard truth. It had been a month and Tony looked no better than when he returned; pale and thin, with dark circles etched under his eyes and a charming smile that no longer blinded Steve’s careful inspection.
“Are you alright?” Steve asked, every time.
“More than,” Tony replied and Steve believed him. Every time.
Depending on your perspective, it was even true.
-----------------------------
Tony’s bondmark never faded. Maybe the rules across the veil were different and that’s why the bite was as pink as the day he returned, why he never went into shock. Maybe there was still someone else on the other side, waiting where Tony could go and Steve couldn’t follow.
“You could go back you know.” The words were ash in his mouth.
“No, I can’t,” Tony replied, hunched over himself. “There’s nothing left.”
Steve let his eyes close. That explained so much. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s better this way.”
“If there’s anything you need...“
There was a pause.
“You. I need you,” Tony confessed and Steve’s heart stopped. “Stay. Please.”
Tony reached for him and his hand wasn’t calloused in the familiar way Steve remembered. The palm was soft and smooth, as cold and clammy as a corpse’s. He was still too thin and pale; a bandage around his forearm from Strange's constant blood tests. Familiar dark eyes held something alien and Steve was suddenly afraid. This was what he’d wanted, to get them back to what they were before. Back to Avenging and bickering and bouts of sex that Steve took far more seriously than Tony ever did.
Except Tony had found someone he loved and married and mourned. It just wasn’t Steve.
“I can’t be their replacement.”
The hand retreated. “Whose?”
“Whoever gave you this,” Steve’s thumb stroked the bondmark and Tony ducked his head. “I can’t, Tony, please don’t - “
“I’m asking you to,” Tony whispered, pulling Steve’s hand away. “I know it’s unfair. I know it’s selfish. I just - Please, Cap. Please.”
It was the way Tony said Cap that did it. Reverent. Steve was weak.
Tony was skinnier than when he left, hipbones jutting sharply without the underlying muscle. He was cold at the extremities and feverish at the core, slower too; keeping Steve’s pace when before he’d race ahead and call the shots. He tasted like copper and salt.
He dragged Steve’s hand downward and Steve said the words he knew he should even as his fingers did as they were asked. “We don’t have to.”
“We’d better,” Tony growled in a tone Steve remembered from simpler times. “Third drawer down.”
Steve obeyed and pulled out a series of foil circles. Condoms, right. They hadn't used them before but it was reasonable, a request one would make of any casual lover regardless of whether said lover wanted more. Steve outfitted himself and then Tony was pushing him down to the bed and climbing on top, lining himself up.
He winced and Steve steadied his hips. “Go easy.”
Tony didn’t answer, just removed Steve’s hands from his torso and impaled himself to the hilt. It might have felt fantastic, Steve wouldn’t know because every bit of him was busy being horrified at the pain written in every line of Tony’s face.
Steve rolled them. “Why would you - “
Tony wrapped his legs behind Steve’s back, preventing him from withdrawing. “I’m fine, Steve. Seriously.” He leaned up and kissed him softly, like Steve was the one who needed to be comforted. “Make me feel good?”
Steve didn’t know why Tony thought that deserved to be a question. “Always.”
He set a pace close to what he remembered Tony preferring. Not quite rough but close enough to the edge to feel dangerous. Tony didn’t give any direction otherwise. He didn’t touch himself either, body and pleasure entirely at Steve’s mercy.
Tony might have been imagining someone else but he got the name right. “Steve, Steve, Steve…”
Steve’s gaze slid down Tony’s throat to the reddened mark and could only hope that he gave what was needed.
———————————
In the morning Tony was gone and there was blood on the sheets. His wound had reopened sometime during the night.
The bloodstain was a crimson Rorscach test; you could see whatever you wanted in it.
———————————
Steve ignored the warning signs until it was nearly too late.
Iron Man’s behaviour in the field became erratic; flip-flopping between perfect obedience and willful defiance. Sometimes he followed Steve’s instructions to the letter, so silent over coms that Steve checked in periodically to make sure he was still there. Other times he was so needlessly headstrong that he contradicted every order.
It came to a head in Amsterdam with a sea serpent. Tony had ignored the battle plan from the off and every tactical adjustment since. When he refused the command to move those civilians out of the way and instead flew off in the opposite direction, Steve hit his limit. He didn’t know what Tony was doing and he no longer cared. The Avengers couldn’t afford a wildcard in the fight. He had Vision physically remove Iron Man from the battlefield.
Later Tony had come for him swinging and Steve gave as good as he got which was considerably less than what he was capable of. Tony was out of shape, out of practice and without the armour it wasn’t even a contest. It ended with Steve pinning him to the wall, limbs utterly immobilized. Steve had the moral, logical and physical high ground, he should have known that Tony’s only move left was to kiss him.
Suddenly they were making out furiously, all teeth and unkindness. Steve didn’t give Tony an inch, not even when he tasted the unpleasant tang of his own blood and saw the triumphant smear of red across Tony’s mouth, lips arranged into a cruel smirk.
Steve got angry. It was easy. It was always easy with Tony. They’d been here before; defiance and confrontation and sublimated lust.
“Stop,” Tony ordered abruptly and Steve pulled back. Tony’s gaze was intent and calculating. “Off.”
Steve felt a surge of unbearable frustration before he dropped Tony to the floor and stepped back. Tony just flashed a cocky grin like he’d known exactly the magic words Steve couldn’t ignore. Steve knew he’d failed this test and he felt the embarrassment climb to his face in a flush. He left Tony to his victory in a pile on the floor. He didn’t look back.
“You’re suspended,” Steve said without preamble when he found Tony in the common room that night. He still didn’t know what game Tony was playing with them all but it wouldn’t be a liability in the field anymore.
“Like hell I am,” Tony retorted, “just because Captain America didn’t get laid - “
“You were off active duty either way,” Steve said resolutely. “I’m not playing Simon Says with you while innocent lives are in danger. I can make it an official Avengers sanction or you can take a vacation. Choose.”
Tony chose.
——————————
Bucky’s sabbatical involved stealing Steve’s motorcycle and taking off for the coast.
——————————
Benching Tony only hastened the spiral. It was like Iron Man was the only thing keeping him in check. It devolved: bars, tabloid headlines, parties. Steve held his breath, waiting for the self-destruction to take something irreparable but Tony balanced everything precisely on a knife’s edge. The nights he didn’t come back to the Mansion were cause for concern. The nights he did were worse.
He’d show up at Steve’s door at midnight; clothes dishevelled, bruises optional. Sometimes he’d smell like sex: alpha pheromones reeking off him or omega fluids stuck to his skin. Steve could barely look at him. He wondered if that was the point Tony was trying to prove; standing defiant under the scrutiny. But most of the time when Steve opened the door Tony was dripping wet from the shower, scrubbed down to the bone, like with enough soap and scraping he could smell like nothing. Steve could always smell the sea.
The question was invariably the same.
“Can I sleep here?” Tony would ask, eyes down, subservient in a way that was clearly unnatural.
Steve never turned him down. He would bury himself in Steve’s bed and they would sleep. It was the best rest Steve would get all week, knowing that Tony was back and safe. Sometimes Steve woke to him throwing up, his body rejecting whatever substances he had substituted for a good night’s sleep the rest of the week.
“Have you been drinking?” Steve couldn’t resist asking at four in the morning when darkness covered the question.
Tony glared at him, or tried to, only one eye truly awake where his face was resting on the porcelain rim of the toilet. “No. If you’d actually suspended me instead of sending me on vacation you could drug test me.”
“I believe you,” Steve said. The lingering effects of the bondshock Tony was still clearly in denial about more than explained the nausea. The lack of sleep couldn’t help.
“I didn’t have a single drink over there. Three years, two hundred and forty-six days.” Tony’s eyes were unfocused, drifting closed. “Beer was literally safer to drink than water but none for me…”
Steve rubbed his back. “I’m proud of you. I know that couldn’t have been easy.”
Tony snorted and his eyes drifted shut. He was already asleep when Steve carried him back to bed.
The nights were awful but the mornings were bliss. Tony gave Steve what he’d never told a soul he wanted: a slice of domestic life. Lazy, unhurried blow jobs and long two-person showers. They’d make love slowly in the morning sun and if Tony was imagining someone else he never let it show. Brunch became an extravagant affair and Tony was finally putting on weight, but the carefree generosity of it all made Steve uneasy, like those mornings were repayment for a good night’s rest and Tony was settling his tab with interest.
Then, debt paid, he’d disappear and the countdown reset.
———————————————
Later Steve would watch the exchange on loop:
Logan, grunting at the kitchen table. “You smell like him.”
Tony, halfway through his coffee. “How could you possibly know that? I’ve taken two showers.”
Logan tapped his nose. “I ain’t ordinary.”
“It’s just Steve.”
“No, bub, it ain’t.” With a wet snikt metal claws appeared and then retracted.
“Well I won't soon enough,” Tony replied and Logan nodded his agreement.
There was nothing preventing Steve from getting the footage sooner, he just never thought to check.
———————————
Tony started taking scent blockers again and Steve was remiss to admit he missed the scent of saltwater. They were laying in bed, Tony asleep and tucked across Steve’s front. The bondmark on his throat shone accusingly. It made Steve feel like a homewrecker but with Tony pressed close even the reminder couldn’t faze him. It was a part of himself Tony would never allow Steve to intrude on and Steve needed to make his peace with it. He pressed his lips chaste as he could just below the scar tissue that was as good as a wedding ring.
Tony’s eyes flew open and he jerked himself out of Steve’s embrace violently. “No.”
Steve held out his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t.“
Tony had one hand clamped over his mark to protect it. “I can’t let you - “
“It was my mistake.” Steve used to tongue and nip at Tony’s gland, basking in the glow of trust even knowing it would go no further. “I know you don’t want me to. So I won’t.”
Tony closed his eyes and consciously relaxed. “I trust you. I know that wasn’t enough for you before.” His lips twitched in a defeated half-smile. “I’m sorry. For all of this.”
Steve’s heart ached. “Don’t be. It was enough for me before and it’s enough for me now.”
Tony eventually slipped back under the covers and plastered himself to Steve’s front again. Steve tried to ignore the feeling of rightness. It didn’t belong to him and Tony had made it clear three times over that it never would. Under his palm he could feel Tony’s heartbeat. Fast. Too fast.
“You don’t owe me anything,” Steve said hoarsely, trying to calm him. “Whoever they were was lucky to have you.”
Steve couldn’t see his face but Tony’s voice was brittle.
“I was the worst decision he ever made.”
———————————
Still, “Why are you avoiding Bucky?”
“I’m not. I kind of have a soft spot for the guy since he risked his life to rescue me and all.”
“Alright, why is Bucky avoiding you?”
Tony just shrugged. “You’d have to ask him.”
Steve called the bluff and followed through.
————————————
Bucky hit him outside of a bar in Montana. The punch only landed because Steve wasn't expecting it but he could feel the bruise bloom across his cheek.
“Shit,” Bucky swore, once he recognized Steve. He was drunk and a mess. “How’s Tony?”
The question was worrisome in its seriousness. Bucky needed the answer and he needed the answer to be good.
“Fine,” Steve said automatically, then revised. “No. Not fine. Erratic.”
“He hurt anyone?”
“What?” The word was ripped from him.
“Himself? Strange? You?”
“Of course not,” Steve hissed and then lowered his voice. “Why do you think he’s going to?”
Bucky’s pupils shone like black holes. “I would. I’d want to.”
Steve’s voice was ice. “What happened over there.”
“He smells different, you notice that? Makes me want to hit something. I don’t know how Logan stands it. How have you not… ”
“What. Happened.”
“You were gone.” Bucky’s stare was blank. “You were dead over there and the world fell apart. It was all their Stark’s fault. He murdered me and probably Logan and dozens of others. Then he was arrested, tried, and executed in the name of the Lord. There was even a song about it, they sang it in pubs.” His expression darkened. “There was another song about how he made a deal with the Devil to come back.”
All those unenlightened people with their ideas of how the world worked.
The fluttering in Steve’s stomach tried to warn him of danger. “Tony’s not going to hurt me or you or anyone. We’re his friends.”
“Are we? At least I know what I did. You have no idea what you’re doing to him.“
“Then tell me.”
“He was gone for five months and you forgot everything you ever knew about him," Bucky accused. "Being bonded for him is different than for us. Bonds are unbalanced and not in his favour. Stark didn’t build an empire by being a sucker, he doesn’t take raw deals.”
“I haven’t asked him for anything since he came back.” The words scratched Steve’s throat on the way out. “He’s said no, I don’t expect him to change his mind.”
“You still don’t get it,” Bucky shook his head, incredulous. “It’s not you. Stark never wanted to be bonded to anyone. Christ Steve, you kept asking about his mate like he had a sweetie back home. He was an omega stranded in a techless, medieval world that literally thought he was evil incarnate, he didn’t get married.
“Tony was bonded for nearly four years as punishment.”
———————————
Steve had no idea how he got back to the Tower. He went through the motions with perfect precision but the actual journey was static. He was calm. It was probably denial.
His mind tried to avoid the reality that now imposed itself. Tony was different but he wasn’t different. He hadn’t fallen off the wagon, he didn’t avoid touch. He didn’t have any new scars where someone would have had to force Tony to submit because he didn’t bow his head for anyone. He still smiled and laughed. He was still Iron Man. He still had sex.
He was still a liar. He’d lied to Steve before about greater things. So Tony had taken this secret and buried it deep while on the surface he remained more or less functional. Steve had seen the ragged edges of the wound and dug his thumbs in. He’d thought he was being kind.
He blinked and found himself in the common room of the Mansion. He wasn’t alone. Clint and Dr. Strange were at the table. The room was tense, stress lingering in the air despite the casual domestic scene.
“Blood.” In the air.
Clint looked up. “It’s spooky when you do that. It’s not mine. With that bruise you’re sporting you sure it’s not yours?”
Steve pressed a palm to his cheek and relished the ache Bucky’s fist had left. “Where’s Tony?” he asked, the barest strands of panic beginning to coalesce.
“He got back with Bruce about an hour ago, why?”
The blood was Tony’s. The pain was Tony’s. Something in Steve’s hindbrain came alive, buzzing frantically in the background. He couldn’t sort through his thoughts. “He shouldn’t smell like the sea.”
Clint was confused. “I don’t have super-senses but you’re the one who smells like they took a dunk in a vat of Ocean Breeze. Tony only smells like the sea after he spends the night with you or are we all still pretending we don’t know about that?”
Strange’s eyes narrowed and Steve bristled. He felt his grip on himself loosen against his will. He loomed over the sorcerer, voice harsh. “Where’s Tony?”
Strange didn’t back down. “I don’t know.”
The haughty dismissal was the last straw. Steve bared his teeth and ripped the newspaper out of Strange’s hands and a moment later he was thrown across the room by an invisible force.
“What the fuck?!“ Clint yelled as he scrambled back.
Strange was not amused. “I wouldn’t try that again, Captain. Ever. On anyone. Especially not me and especially not Anthony.”
Clint had taken up a very foolish position between them. “First of all: massive overreaction, Doc. Secondly: Cap, this isn’t like you. The guy might be a dick but Avengers policy is that’s not a good enough reason to attack someone.”
Every feral instinct in Steve was screaming to continue the fight. Strange was an uninvited alpha in his space while Tony was hurt, while his omega -
(Tony wasn’t his. Tony never wanted to be anyone’s.)
Shame smothered the primal urges down to embers. Stephen was Tony’s friend, he was Steve’s friend though you wouldn’t have guessed from the force he’d just used. Steve uncurled his fists. The stench of rot drenched him, infecting his pores. He was drowning in it and every heaving breath just drew more inside him. It was hurt sung strong and awful. Why couldn’t anyone else feel it?
Steve’s hands trembled. “There’s something wrong with Tony, I know it. He’s hurt. We need to help him. I need to - ”
“Tony’s fine, Steve.” Bruce’s voice was calm where he appeared in the hallway. “He’s just taking a nap.”
“I think I’ll see that for myself.”
“I think you won’t,” Bruce said mildly. “Take a walk. I’ll let him know you came by.”
For one brief insane moment Steve didn’t think even the threat of the Hulk would be able to stop him. Then Logan appeared from the depths of the Mansion and Steve saw the pattern. There was Bruce guarding Tony’s room, Strange posted like a sentry, Logan roving. Bucky must have called ahead.
Steve took an aborted step forward, Bruce’s eyes flashed green and then Steve knew.
Innocent and guilty. The Other Guy might have trouble telling the difference.
———————————
Bucky picked up on the first ring and Steve didn’t let him speak.
“Why did you hit me?”
There was a sharp intake of breath but Steve barrelled on. “Their Steve wasn’t dead. If I was dead over there I would have been able to cross the veil.” Bucky didn’t correct him no matter how much Steve willed it. “That’s why you hit me. It was me, in the other world. I hurt Tony.”
Bucky hung up but Steve received three texts.
We both did.
You weren’t you.
I was me.