Chapter Text
Romanoff led the way to the Quinjet with Barton practically glued to her side, strutting like she was on a catwalk with her pistol in hand; the others waited in the lobby entrance behind a potted fern, watching for trouble. Romanoff and Barton made quick work of getting the Quinjet’s hatch open, vanished for a full ten seconds and returned to the lobby, laughing to themselves. The damned jet was running on autopilot; there had been no pilot to knock out.
Bucky hoisted Tony over his shoulder and carried him to the Quinjet, still wearing Stane’s armor; Rhodey scooped up Steve and followed after them with Pepper watching their backs. No one crept out of the shadows to strike at them. The building, and surrounding facility had gone eerily quiet. They didn’t waste time dawdling and debating on the reason for the silence, so they pushed on.
The Quinjet’s interior was luxurious . There were three rows of padded leather seats, each with their own armrests and cup holder; while there were no windows, there were large video monitors hanging in front of the seats, presumably for inflight entertainment. Care had been taken with every last detail. Not a single inch of space was left unfinished; the floor was a deep black, and the walls were a soft gray. There was even a snack trolley sitting in an alcove near the front of the jet, and in the very back, hidden behind a black sliding door was a small bathroom.
Rhodey held Steve up so Pepper could hoist Steve up through the hatch; she carried him over to middle row of the plush seats and strapped him in so he wouldn’t be thrown around if they ran into turbulence during their flight.
“I’m fine, you know,” Steve grumbled sleepily as he melted into the seat.
“I know,” Pepper said, smoothing down Steve’s hair.
Rhodey heaved Tony into the Quinjet. “Damn, man. You’re fucking heavy,” he grumbled.
“I know,” Tony wheezed. “Shit happens. Help me out of this thing, will you?”
Rhodey clambered into the Quinjet with Romanoff and Clint scrambling in after him. He helped Tony strip out of his armor, finding the safety snaps after a few failed attempts, and pulled him free.
Tony stumbled over to a seat and collapsed with a moan that sounded damn near indecent even to his own ears.
Rhodey rolled his eyes at Tony. “Would you stop that? You sound like a fucking pervert ,” he muttered.
“He is a pervert,” Pepper snorted.
Tony flipped Pepper off. “I am not,” he sighed.
Rhodey chuckled and turned to Bucky, who was trying to fit himself through the Quinjet hatch even though his attempts were failing miserably. “You’re going to have to take that damn thing off, you know,” he said.
Bucky scowled. “No I don’t. I’m keeping it as a trophy,” he insisted.
“It has GPS in it and they can track us with it,” Rhodey said, his hands settling on his hips.
Bucky sighed and opened up the chestplate. He slid out into the Quinjet, landing on his knees, and unceremoniously kicked the suit out of the door; it hit the ground and lay face down as though it had tripped and fallen. “Fine,” he said, standing up and dusting off his knees. “It smelled like cheese in there anyway.”
“I think Stark’s going to have to build us all suits now,” Pepper chuckled.
“I think so too,” Rhodey said, cracking a grin.
Tony twisted in his seat, stretching his aching back. He extended his feet until he had stretched the tips of his toes. “I’ll get right on that,” he grunted.
“How about you get on the GPS and autopilot for this badboy first?” Barton said, settling in the pilot’s seat. “Unless you want to go home to daddy – I mean, I can drop you off, but I’m pretty sure the rest of us want to get the hell away from Howard Stark.”
“Very funny,” Tony said. He stood up, scooped up his bag from where it had landed on the floor, and dove into the cockpit, tired but ready to get to work. He pulled a screwdriver out of his bag and used it to popped open the emergency repair paneling under the dashboard, sorting through the wires he found inside on his hands and knees. He didn’t have a computer to use to hack the Quinjet’s controls, but he had Jarvis, even if the suit’s batteries were dead; Jarvis was probably better than a computer anyway. He turned to get up just as his helmet dropped into his lap by a smiling Pepper. “Thanks,” he said.
“Not a problem,” Pepper said. She smoothed down Tony’s unruly hair. “I figured you’d need it.”
“That I do,” Tony said. He felt around inside the helmet and found the square of metal he needed; he pressed down on it. The springs lifted the square, revealing a set of hidden connection ports. He pulled the connector cables he needed from his bag, unwinding them and checking them for tears. When he was satisfied that they had survived the trip without damage, he plugged the suit’s helmet into the console and grinned as the helmet’s eyes began go glow with white light. “Hey, Jarvis,” he said, rapping his knuckles the top of helmet. “Wakey, wakey!” He set the helmet down on the dashboard.
“Good evening sir,” Jarvis said. “Is my assistance required?”
“Indeed we do. We need you to hack in and disable the GPS and autopilot. Think you can handle that?” Tony asked.
“It would be, as you say, a piece of cake, sir,” Jarvis said, dryly.
“Speaking of cake – You’ve got my backups, right?” Tony asked.
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said. “I have transferred everything to the drives located in your private residence as requested.”
“Good. Keep the place locked down until we get there,” Tony said. He turned to Barton. “Alright Barton, get us moving – I want to get there before Howard figures out that we’re stealing his toy.”
“Your private residence will remain in lockdown until your arrival,” Jarvis said. “Would you like anything else?”
Tony stood up and leaned against the cockpit doorway. He looked around at the others. “What do you think? Chinese food or pizza?”
Steve smiled. “Anything sounds good.”
“You think we’ll have time?” Pepper asked, pursing her lips.
“Sure,” Tony said. “My place is an hour away from here and Howard doesn’t even know I bought it. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“Is that why your student loan payments are so ridiculously high?” Rhodey asked, barking out a laugh. “You rat bastard! You’ve been sneaking around, haven’t you?”
Tony smirked. “What can I say? I like planning ahead.”
Tony squinted out the window, scowling down at the road below them. The Quinjet was ran quiet, not that there was anyone around to hear them, and they were making good time. “Stop the jet,” he yelled, his face pressed up against the glass. He could see someone sitting in the road down below – someone buck naked and holding a cardboard box.
“Is that Banner?” Pepper asked, pushing Tony out of the way so she could see out the window.
“I think so,” Tony said. “Jarvis – scan him. Is that Banner?”
“I am unsure, sir,” Jarvis said, apologetically. “The readings I have for Doctor Banner do not match the readings I have obtained from the person down below.”
Tony cocked an eyebrow. If it was Bruce down there, the change in scans was to be expected; after Bruce had injected himself with his version of the Super Soldier formula, there had to have been some changes to Bruce’s physiology. That was what the serum had been designed to do.
“Land the Quinjet,” Tony said. “Let’s get a look at the guy first before we fly off into the sunset.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Bucky grumbled, shifting in his seat. “You could get us all caught. What if it’s a Hydra trap?”
“If it’s Bruce, we need to help him,” Tony growled. He got up and stumbled over to the door as the Quinjet landed, stabilizing himself on the metal wall in front of him. “Besides,” he said, “When has Hydra been that inventive? Naked man with a box on the side of the road? Probably not something they would try.”
Bucky sighed and stood up. “Fine, but you’re not going out there without an escort,” he said.
“Sounds good to me,” Rhodey said from his seat. He stretched out, sinking deeper into the padding. “You can take him for that walk. I’m going to take a nap.”
“I’ll watch your back from in here,” Romanoff said, opening the hatch for Tony. “Good luck, Stark.”
“Thanks,” Tony grumbled. He stepped outside and immediately hugged himself, trying to ward off the cold. The weather wasn’t looking too friendly right about now, and he could feel the cold wind even though he was wearing a jacket. He hastened his steps, seeing Bucky behind him out of the comer of his eye and approached the stranger. Up close, it was very clear who the man was.
Bruce had dark bags under his eyes and his skin was milk-white. He was shivering violently, and hugging the cardboard box for dear life. He looked up as Tony approached, his eyes wide and frightened. “Tony?” he called out, his voice hoarse.
“Bruce!” Tony jogged closer. Relief flowed through him; he hadn’t expected to see Bruce again, let alone alive. He pulled his jacket off, mourning the loss of the extra warmth and handed it off to Bruce. He peered down into the cardboard box that Bruce had balanced precariously on his knobby knees. Inside were three scrawny-looking kittens. The first was a calico, with a mainly white body and spots of orange, brown and black. The second kitten had white fur with black spots all over its body. The third, and final kitten was a grey and black tabby with black feet. They all looked far too young to be away from their mother and seemed half-starved.
“What do you have there?” Tony asked. “Found yourself some friends?”
Bruce’s left cheek twitched violently; he pulled on Tony’s jacket and zipped it up. Green began to spread across his face.
“Bruce?” Tony said, “What’s going on?”
“Someone left them by the road,” Bruce spat out. The muscles in his neck began to bulge dangerously. “They left three four month old kittens sitting in a box on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.” He clenched his fists.
Bucky tensed behind Tony; he looked ready to pull Tony out of the way so he could lunge at Bruce.
Tony waved a hand behind him and shook his head, hoping that Bucky would get the message. He recognized what was going on in front of him, although the turning green part and bulging muscles was new; Bruce was angry – very angry. Thankfully, Tony had had plenty of practice in calming him down.
“Bruce? Hey, you with me?” Tony said, careful to keep his voice steady and calm.
Bruce snorted and squeezed his eyes shut. His fists remained balled up on his knees. “I’m with you,” he ground out.
“Ok, so we need to take care of these little guys and in order to do that, you need to do me a favor, alright?” Tony said, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.
Bruce looked up, startled by the sudden contact. “What do you need?” he growled.
“I need you to make me a list,” Tony said.
“A list?” Bruce said. “What kind of a list?”
“We need to know what food we need to buy for them – what supplies we need to take care of them. I’ve never had a pet before, so I don’t know what we need. I’m thinking they need special food, right?” Tony said, patting Bruce’s shoulder.
Bruce nodded. The green tinge to his skin was beginning to fade. “They’re young,” Bruce said. “They need kitten food – maybe some medical care. I don’t know if they’ve had their shots or not – although I’m thinking those bastards didn’t bother with getting them proper care, so they probably need those too.” Bruce’s nose wrinkled. The green began to blossom again across his forehead.
“Ok – focus on the list for me. We need to know every single thing they need and we need you to help us figure it out, alright?” Tony said. “We can deal with the medical stuff later. Right now, we need all the basics, ok?”
“Alright,” Bruce muttered. He squeezed his eyes shut again. “Do you – do you have any paper? I want to write it down so I don’t forget anything.”
“Sure,” Tony said. He turned to Bucky. “Can you grab the notepad from my bag? There should be a pen in there too.”
Bucky looked ready to protest, but he darted off to the Quinjet without saying a word.
“Who’s that guy?” Bruce asked, putting his face in his hands. “Is he your new bodyguard?”
“I guess you could say that,” Tony chuckled. “I ran into him at SI. He’s Bucky Barnes.”
Bruce’s elbows slid off of his knees; his eyes snapped open, the anger that had once been there was gone at last. “You’re shitting me,” he said, sounding awed. “You found Bucky Barnes?”
“Technically speaking, he found me,” Tony said. He reached into the cardboard box and held his finger out for the kittens to sniff. He hadn’t had a cat before, but he had had a television; he knew what he was supposed to do when approaching one. He stroked the top of the calico’s head when it was satisfied with his scent, rubbing his thumb against its stubby ears. He had always kind of wanted a cat, but he had never had the time to take care of one. Now, he supposed idly, he had plenty of time on his hands and nothing to do with it. Having a kitten might not be such a bad thing.
“He was with Hydra, wasn’t he?” Bruce asked, clearing his throat. He wrapped his arms around his middle again. His shivers were getting more pronounced, as were his Goosebumps. Still, despite Bruce’s apparent suffering, Tony didn’t want to chance letting Bruce on the Quinjet until he had calmed down completely. There was no way they could handle the creature Bruce had become, and if Bruce could turn back into that big, green, creature, they might be putting themselves in danger by bringing him along. He didn’t want to have to leave Bruce behind, but he knew he couldn’t risk their lives by bring him along if Bruce wasn’t entirely safe.
“Yeah,” Tony said, carefully choosing his words. “They found him and brainwashed him. He’s with us now – I don’t know much about it. Maybe he’ll talk about it sometime.”
Bruce nodded numbly and turned his attention back to the box of kittens. He leaned forwards and stroked the tiny tabby’s back; the physical contact seemed to sooth him. “Did I hurt anyone?” he asked after a minute of quiet contemplation.
Tony sighed. It was probably better not to lie to Bruce about what had happened, even though he wanted to spare Bruce the pain of what he had done. “Yeah, buddy,” he said. “You killed a bunch of Hydra goons.”
Bruce hung his head.
“If it helps,” Tony said, quickly, “the people you killed had already picked off pretty much everyone on the night staff, so at least they got avenged.”
Bruce’s jaw clenched. “They killed civilians?”
“Yeah,” Tony said. He reached down and patted the spotted kitten on the rump when it tried to crawl its way up the side of the box. “So, how did you find these guys anyways?”
Bruce’s jaw unclenched. “I don’t know,” he muttered. He stroked the tabby again, his eyes locked on its slightly crooked tail. “I woke up on the side of the road with the box sitting next to me, naked as a fucking jay bird and cold as hell. There were some smashed up cars beside us, but I don’t know if I did that or someone else did,” he lamented. “I think I ate a motorcycle.”
“You might have,” Tony chuckled. “You were kind of unhappy with the ATVs Hydra tried to use against you.”
“I keep getting flashes of a Honeybadger,” Bruce admitted sheepishly. “I think I ate that too.”
“The animal, or the vehicle?” Tony teased.
Bruce scowled. “The vehicle,” he said, smacking Tony in the shoulder. “Where the hell would I have found a real Honeybadger?”
“I don’t know,” Tony said, rubbing his shoulder. He flashed Bruce a toothy grin. “You tell me.”
Bucky jogged back up to them, trying to look casual. He held out the notepad and pen he had found and then stepped back to stand behind Tony, as though uncomfortable leaving his side. He leaned over top of Tony and peered into the cardboard box. His eyes widened ever-so-slightly.
“I don’t think Bucky’s ever had a pet before either,” Tony said. He picked the calico up and cradled it against his chest. It dove for the front of his shirt and burrowed for warmth, purring loudly. He covered its back with his hand, shielding it from the wind. “Hey, little guy,” he said. “It’s ok. We’ll get going soon, just wait a bit, ok?”
Bucky’s flesh-and-blood hand twitched.
“Do you want to pet her?” Tony asked. He lifted his hand and made room for Bucky.
Bucky hesitated for only a second before moving forwards. He stroked the kitten’s soft fur once and then jerked his hand back as if burned. He hovered behind Tony’s back, peering down at the tiny creature’s blue eyes.
“She’s not going to bite,” Tony said. He grimaced when the kitten sank her sharp teeth into his hand and let out a loud, hearty snort. “Ok – never mind. She will bite, but it doesn’t actually hurt. It’s more of a slobbery gumming,” he said. He gingerly wrestled his hand free from the kitten’s mouth and patted the top of her head. Her purrs grew louder with every gentle sweep of his hand.
Bruce looked up from the notepad; it was already covered in scribbled notes, each one numbered and underlined. “She likes you,” he said, smiling tiredly.
“I sure hope so,” Tony said. He sighed when the kitten sank her teeth into his t-shirt. “Is this love?” he asked, wiggling the kitten’s ears with his hands. The kitten meowed loudly and began to drool all over his shirt, leaving wet patches as it sucked at the fabric near its mouth.
“I guess so,” Bucky said, softly.
“Ok,” Bruce said, clearing his throat. He scanned the list in his hand and then held it out to Tony, tucking the pen carefully into Tony’s hand. “This is what we need.”
“Alright,” Tony said. He set the calico kitten back into the box and stood up, stuffing the pen into his pocket. “I’ll get Jarvis to look up the nearest pet store and we’ll grab some stuff as we go.”
Bucky bent down and picked up the box of kittens. He held the box against his chest. “We should go,” he said.
“Agreed,” Bruce said. He groaned as he stood up and looked plaintively at Tony. “Can you help me walk?”
“I’m guessing that party trick of yours uses up a lot of energy,” Tony said, wrapping an arm around Bruce’s middle.
Bruce nodded, his eyelids already drooping. He threw his arm over Tony’s shoulder. “Can we find me some pants?” he asked, his words slurring.
“Sure thing,” Tony said. “Just try and stay awake a little longer, ok? You’re heavy as fuck, and my back isn’t as young as it used to be.”
“Your back is fine,” Bruce grumbled, squashing his face into the crook of Tony’s neck. “It’s your old man brain that’s the problem.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Tony grumbled. He lugged Bruce to the Quinjet where Pepper and Natasha stood waiting in the hatch.
Bucky hurried after them, keeping an eye on the horizon and the cuddly contents of the cardboard box.
Pepper reached down and helped Tony hoist Bruce into the Quinjet. “Good to see you’re doing alright,” she said, steadying Bruce so he wouldn’t slip and fall. Tony scrambled up behind him with Bucky at his heels.
“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Bruce mumbled to Pepper.
“We haven’t,” Pepper said.
Bucky handed the box of kittens off to Tony, and then jumped through the hatch.
“You found kittens?” Barton said, cocking an eyebrow. “What is with you people and collecting strays?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tony grumbled, flapping a hand in Barton’s direction. He put the box of kittens down on a seat beside Steve.
Pepper helped Bruce over to a seat and set him down with an audible oomph.
“Thanks,” Bruce mumbled, drooping in his seat.
Romanoff and Barton watched warily as Tony seatbelted Bruce in and adjusted the straps.
“He’s fine,” Tony insisted, giving Romanoff the stink eye when he saw the way she was looking at Bruce. “He just needs some pants.”
“Right,” Barton said. “That’s what they all say.”
Steve shuffled nervously in his seat, watching Bruce with a mixture of curiosity and concern. His gaze locked on to the squirming kittens when the calico let out a delighted squeak. His eyes went as wide as saucers; his mouth dropped open.
Bucky smiled softly and sat down a few seats away, seatbelting himself in.
“Hey,” Tony called out, “Jarvis, do me a favor, will you?”
“Yes, sir?” Jarvis said, his voice echoing from the cockpit.
“I’m going to read you a list – find me a pet store in range that has everything,” Tony said.
They sent Barton into a Paw’s Petshop. He snapped up everything on the list using the bundle of emergency cash Tony had in his bag. He returned with three bulging bags and a large cat carrier filled with soft bedding. Romanoff sorted through his purchases while Jarvis piloted the Quinjet, taking them to Tony’s safehouse, humming and hawing over Barton’s choices while he grumbled in the background.
The kittens fell asleep after a quick meal of mushy cat food.
Romanoff sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know if we can keep them,” she said, stroking the spotted kitten’s paws.
“We can decided later,” Pepper yawned. “Let’s wait and see what our options are. There’s no sense in rushing yet.”
“Agreed,” Rhodey said, leaning back in his seat.
Romanoff nodded in agreement and curled up in the seat beside the cardboard box. She glanced over at Steve, who was cradling the calico in his lap, feeding it bits of mushy food off of a plastic spoon. “Is this your first cat?” Romanoff asked.
Steve smiled. “I was allergic to them back before the serum,” he said, “and after, well, Howard didn’t really like cute fluffy things.”
“Howard didn’t like much of anything,” Tony grumbled, closing his eyes. “Are we there yet Jarvis?”
“We will arrive in approximately ten minutes, sir,” Jarvis said.
“Good,” Tony said. “Wake me up when we land.”
Jarvis landed the Quinjet in the backyard at Tony’s safehouse. Tony didn’t have many neighbors, and for now, they were safe and out of sight. They pulled a tarp over the Quinjet to disguise its appearance and snuck inside.
They gathered around in Tony’s kitchen waiting for their pizza and Chinese food to arrive with the kittens sleeping in their box on the floor; they hadn’t been able to pick which they wanted more so they had decided to get a little bit of everything, including enough to take with them when they left.
“I’m going to pack some stuff up,” Tony said, clearing his throat. “Feel free to look around and raid my cupboards or whatnot.”
He went upstairs and threw together a suitcase, packing away as much of his clothing as he could. Most of what was here was brand new, stashed away for better days. His figurine collection and posters would just have to stay – he couldn’t take everything, even though he wanted to. Looking around his bedroom, one he rarely visited, he felt satisfied that he had gotten the best of his life packed away; he scooped up his box of comics, refusing to leave those behind and left the room without looking back. He carried everything to the living room, leaving it on the floor, and stomped down to the basement where he set about packing up his spare lab equipment and the drives filled with SI’s dirty secrets. Howard didn’t know about this place, but that didn’t mean they could risk dawdling here for too long; it was probably safer if they didn’t stay to eat.
Pepper foraged in Tony’s kitchen and came up with a pack of paper plates, plastic knives and forks while the others helped Tony load the Quinjet with his lab equipment. Steve explored the house as they worked, slipping from room to room, examining everything he saw with delicate, careful touches. He emerged from Tony’s bedroom just as they were getting ready to leave carrying Tony’s duvet and pillows under his arm. He was having a hard time carrying everything.
“Planning a sleepover?” Tony asked. He took the duvet from Steve and folded it up, throwing it over his shoulder.
Steve shrugged. “It seemed a shame to leave them. They’re soft,” he said. He sighed and looked around the kitchen. “We didn’t have a place like this back when I was younger. Ma could never afford the rent.”
Bucky shifted nervously in the living room as Tony took one last look around. As they moved to the back door to head out to the Quinjet, he snatched one of Tony’s zippered hoodies from the back of a chair and pulled it on, hiding away his cybernetic arm.
Tony glanced back at the house with a sad smile. He had been planning on retiring here one day. That, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards. It wasn’t all bad, though. At least now he wouldn’t be alone for the rest of his life.
They flew the Quinjet a town over and stopped at the nearest ATM so they could each withdraw everything they could from their bank accounts. They couldn’t exactly go back to SHIELD for help, not with targets on their backs; they would have to pool their resources and hope they could survive off of it.
“So do we get to head off to our own homes for stuff? Or is Stark the only one who gets that privilege?” Barton grumbled sullenly.
“It’s too dangerous,” Romanoff said, shaking her head. “They’re probably watching our houses now that they know we survived. I wouldn’t put it past Fury to post guards.”
Barton sighed and slumped in his seat. “This is bullshit.”
Romanoff crossed her arms over her chest. “I know how you feel, but that’s the way it’s got to be.”
They made it back into the air with their collected wads of cash just in time to avoid getting spotted by what could only be Hydra soldiers masquerading as police officers. Somehow, even though they were in a vehicle with no GPS and no serial numbers, they had been followed.
“Well,” Barton growled, glaring at the Hydra soldiers from the safety of the cockpit, “I guess that solves our problem. You’re right, Nat. We can’t head back. Hell, we were probably lucky to make it to Stark’s place.”
“I guess so,” Pepper sighed. She banged her fist on the armrest beside her. “Damn it. I wanted to get my fucking photo album. Everything else was replaceable – but that, that isn’t.”
Romanoff rested her hand on Pepper’s shoulder. “Maybe we can sneak in later once this thing has blown over.”
“I don’t think that’ll work. I’m betting they’re going to burn our houses to the fucking ground,” Pepper muttered. Her shoulders slumped. “We can’t risk showing up in town again. Hydra will be watching and waiting.”
“Cheer up,” Tony said. He dug into his bag when she glared at him and held up a memory stick. When the glare didn’t vanish, he gave the memory stick a wave again. “I scanned your pictures in for you, remember?” he said.
Pepper stilled. “What?”
“You and Rhodey brought all your photos over,” Tony continued. “Seriously? You don’t remember? I spent like three days scanning all of them in. You brought me a truckload of beer as a thank you and we got shitfaced all weekend. That’s not ringing any bells?”
Pepper’s smile was blinding. She darted forwards and wrapped her arms around Tony’s neck, hugging him so tightly he was afraid he might pass out from lack of air.
Rhodey grinned and settled for slapping Tony affectionately on the back. “I forgot all about that, man!”
“Hey, you guys were the ones who wanted to have backups,” Tony insisted, gently patting Pepper’s back. “You were bitching and moaning about how you couldn’t keep them close. I was wondering why you guys never asked me for the memory stick.”
Barton scowled. “I guess we should have been friends with Stark, huh?” he said to Romanoff.
Romanoff sighed. “I guess so.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have anything of mine, would you?” Bruce asked, shifting nervously in his seat. He squinted at Tony; they hadn’t been able to find him a pair of glasses yet, so for now he was stuck without them. Everything was likely blurry and out of focus.
“Sorry,” Tony said, with a sigh. “I’ve only got the stuff you had on your drive at work.”
Bruce smiled brightly. “That’s perfect!”
Tony grinned.
“I didn’t get any of my pictures printed out,” Bruce explained. He ducked his head, looking shamefaced as though he had just admitted to robbing a bank. “I moved around so much, I stopped making physical copies.”
“There’s no shame in that,” Tony said. He was glad he had been able to help, without even realizing it.
“Thank you – and seriously, Tony. Thank you,” Bruce said, his voice cracking. He looked away, focusing on the seat beside him. “Those were the only pictures I had of Betty.”
“You’re very welcome,” Tony said.
“What about my files?” Bruce asked, rubbing at his nose. “You’ve got my project files too, right?”
“I’ve got everything,” Tony said.
“You’ve got the folders for Project: Thor and Project: Loki?” Bruce asked.
Tony nodded slowly. He hadn’t had the chance to look into those folders specifically but he knew how important they were to Bruce. Bruce’s work was his life; it had been that way ever since his fiancé had left him.
“Is it possible to wipe SI’s drives from here?” Bruce asked.
Tony shook his head. “We’re out of range. I’d have to go back to even pick up the signal – assuming they haven’t locked everything down already.”
Bruce shrugged. “It’s ok. At least you got copies of everything. I’m sure Howard has backups anyway – even if you had deleted everything, those files would probably pop up again someday. At least I have all of my personal notes. He won’t get far without those.”
“Well, at least we’ve got everything we need,” Tony said.
Steve wrapped himself a little tighter in his blanket. He looked down at the floor and let out a soft sigh.
Tony cleared his throat. “So can I have my lungs back now?” he asked Pepper. “Because I’d kind of like to give Steve his stuff.”
Pepper chuckled and pulled away, returning to her seat. “Fine,” she said. “Keep your precious lungs.”
Steve looked up sharply. “What do you mean my stuff?” He glanced over at his shield, where it sat strapped into its own seat. “I’ve got everything I came out with,” he said.
“No you don’t,” Tony said. He grinned broadly and toed his battered bag out from under his seat, where he had stashed it to make space for his lab equipment. He pulled out Steve’s sketchbook, mindful of the files and tools inside the bag and wiped it down with his hand to make sure it was clean.
Steve swallowed audibly. “You – Where did you get that from?”
“I reclaimed it from Howard’s office,” Tony said. He handed it over to Steve, and watched eagerly as Steve flipped the sketchbook open.
Steve’s gaze turned reverent. He ran his fingers over the images, tracing the lines delicately as if they had been made on tissue paper; when he finally looked up at Tony, there were tears in his eyes. “Why did you keep it?” he croaked. He closed the sketchbook and held it tightly to his chest as though afraid it might disappear or be ripped away. Tony wondered how many times it had vanished on Steve over the years. Perhaps its appearance in Howard’s cupboard hadn’t been such a coincidence; maybe it had been taken to prove a point.
“It seemed special,” Tony said. “We saw Bucky’s face in it, and I mean, if we hadn’t, we never would have known who he was.” Steve’s sketches had been the one good thing he had seen in SI that day – aside from Steve himself. The drawings had been too beautiful to abandon, and Tony had known just by looking at them that they meant the world to Steve. “We couldn’t leave it behind – not after that. We knew that if we found you, you’d want it back,” Tony said, clearing his throat. “It turned out to be good luck, too. It led us to you, after all.”
Steve curled his legs under him and turned to Bucky. He hadn’t stopped sneaking glances at him since they had taken to the air; despite the fact that Bucky couldn’t remember him, it took only one tentative look from Steve to get Bucky to stand up and take the seat beside him.
Bucky leaned back into his seat, burying himself in his stolen hoodie. He stared defiantly at Steve’s kneecap. “Look – let’s get some things clear, alright? I don’t remember the stuff that happened when you drew that picture of me,” he murmured. “So don’t expect me to be your best pal.”
Steve’s smile dimmed. “You don’t remember anything?”
“Nope,” Bucky said. He closed his eyes. “I remember being Hydra’s weapon, but that’s it.”
Steve let his hand hover for a moment before settling it on Bucky’s hand.
Bucky opened one eye. “What?”
“Thank you,” Steve said, his expression solemn. “Thank you for coming back for me.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Bucky muttered, looking away again.
Steve let go of Bucky’s hand and settled his back in his lap. “That’s ok,” he said. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
“I’m fine,” Bucky muttered.
“I thought you were dead,” Steve whispered.
Bucky heaved a sigh. “I’ve got nothing to offer you – any of you. Once we’re somewhere safe, I’m out of here.”
Steve jerked backwards, looking hurt. “You’re leaving?”
“He’s not leaving,” Tony snorted. He reached around Steve’s shoulder and flicked Bucky in the ear.
Bucky scowled and leaned away so he couldn’t be flicked again. For an ex-assassin, he was could be incredibly passive when he wanted to be.
Steve hunched over the sketchbook and curled around it, staring down at his knees.
“He’s not leaving,” Tony said again. He hesitated and then wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulder. “None of us are leaving. You’re stuck with us.”
“It would be easier if we split up,” Romanoff said. She steepled her fingers and rested her elbows on her knees. “Face it. We’re a big group, Stark. Together we’ll attract a lot of unwanted attention.”
“And apart, we’re easy pickings,” Tony grunted. He looked around the Quinjet and shook his head. “Do you honestly think that any of us would be able to fight off Hydra, what’s left of SI, Stane, Viastone and SHIELD? Come on. Be realistic. We’d last ten minutes on our own – well, you’d last ten minutes. I’d be dead in about ten seconds.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Bruce said. “They’ll take us all in and lock us away.”
Barton sighed. “He’s got a point, Nat,” he said. “Besides – they’re going to expect us to split up. We might as well throw them off their game by not doing it.”
“I suppose we could make it work,” Romanoff relented. She glanced over at Steve and Bruce. “Besides – someone needs to keep an eye on them. If someone gets a hold either of them again, there’s no telling what might happen.”
Steve frowned. “I’m not useless, you know.”
“We know,” Romanoff said. “I’m more worried about the collateral damage. You need to learn how to control those powers of yours before you hurt someone by accident – the same goes for you, Banner.”
Steve grimaced. “I know how to control them.”
“Oh?” Romanoff cocked an eyebrow. “Then explain why you hit Clint in the head with a stack of paper plates earlier. Enlighten me.”
Steve scowled up at Romanoff. “That was an accident.”
“Right,” Romanoff said. “So it won’t happen again? What about you, Banner? What happens if you hulk out on us again?”
Bruce sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I know how to control the change – sort of. I just need to stay calm – and far, far away from people. The angrier I get, the harder it is to control.”
“Don’t worry,” Tony said, squeezing Steve’s shoulders. “We’ll figure something out.”
Steve shook his head. “That’s not what I’m worried about,” he said. He fell silent and went back to staring forlornly at his sketchbook.
They landed the Quinjet when they ran out of fuel and bought a van from a man in a diner they stopped at who was looking to get rid of it for cheap. Barton and Tony checked it over before loading it up with their things; it wasn’t in the best shape, but it would run and get them where they needed to go. From there, they drove for a week straight, stopping only for food and the bathroom – for them and the kittens.
The drive was quiet and the countryside even quieter. It seemed like they were headed out into the middle of nowhere, and Tony was more than happy to take the back roads for once in his life. They needed to get as far away from SI, Hydra, SHIELD and all the other companies hunting them down as possible and fast.
Here, there was no one around who gave two shits about corporations or the city, and anyone that showed interest quickly moved along when they heard how the strangers were just passing through and not planning on sticking around. The further they got away from the cities they passed, the easier it was to find housing; seemingly everyone and their great grandmother had a place to hock, and no one wanted to ask questions when it came to getting their hands on tax-free money. No one cared who you were as long as you kept your head down and your walls high and well maintained; you could be a homicidal murderer, and no one would have batted an eyelash. Tony both loved it and loathed it. Sure, their neighbors loved to snoop, but that was easy enough to combat; all they had to do was play dumb when they were outside.
They bought a farmhouse below a mountain, keeping their transactions cash-only and settled in, installing a security system during their first night there. The work went fast; they had picked up half of what they needed from Tony’s lab, and everything else had been easily purchased at the local hardware store. The system was one of Tony’s design; it was un-hackable, patrolled by Jarvis and a good fifty other programs. When they were done, their new home felt far, far safer. They spread out and claimed rooms for themselves, filling their home with furniture, clothing and bedding in small trips, getting only what was necessary.
The farmhouse had four floors and a basement that had likely been used to store canned goods; it was old and creaky, but everything that was wrong with it could be easily fixed. Tony knew enough about construction to get things set right, and he had more than enough muscle to help him do it.
Barton and Romanoff chose to share the master bedroom at the very top of the house. They both wanted to keep their eyes on the horizon at all times.
Tony and Steve took rooms on the floor below Barton and Romanoff. Barnes took the room below them, flanked on opposite sides by Pepper and Rhodey.
The lower floor was made of up a kitchen, bathroom, living room and a small bedroom where Bruce slept. It was the homiest of the floors, the most heavily furnished, and where they spent the most of their time.
The days went slowly, and pleasantly.
Everyone they ran into in town seemed to think that they were a group of hippies looking for time away from the city; no one bothered to correct them. They smiled vapidly at their neighbors when anyone got too close and made small talk about gardening and house repair like everyone else did.
Natasha and Pepper took over the garden plot that made up nearly half of the backyard, running it with military-like efficiency. They tasked Rhodey and Bucky with tilling the soil and spent their free time reading up on seeds and planting schedules, battling their way through the information. Once the seeds were in the ground, they prowled the garden in the mornings, plucking weeds with narrowed eyes.
Tony was surprised to find that he didn’t mind lending a hand. Yes, there was the occasional spider and bee, but he had friends to hide behind and use as human shields now; it wasn’t all that bad being outside. He wondered what it would have been like to grow up in a place like this. Would he have turned out differently? Would things have been different for Steve if Howard hadn’t been a genius? Somehow, he didn’t think Howard would ever have been a different man, even if he had lived elsewhere or in poverty. Howard was to dark inside – too horrible a person to have ever been kind, even as a child. He had never met his grandparents, but they had to have been responsible somehow. How else could a child grow up so cruel?
Steve was the only one who didn’t go outside. He had taken a cursory walk around the first day they had moved in, but now he seemed content to sit in on the couch in the living room wrapped in a blanket or tucked under a mound of pillows with the kittens crawling around beside him; the kittens didn’t go outside either, although that was more because something outside might eat them than because they didn’t want to leave. They ran for the door often every time it opened, and Bucky had snatched the tabby of out of the garden once already.
Steve wasn’t interested in the outside world. He watched old movies on their used television, skimming the satellite feeds on the rare occasion when he felt particularly interested, and while he seemed to enjoy helping out in the kitchen, he was reluctant to do much else unless asked.
Tony sighed and snuck glances at Steve from the kitchen doorway, hovering in between rooms. “I wonder if he was always like this,” he murmured.
Pepper continued to cut up carrots for dinner; she didn’t take her eyes off the chopping board. “I don’t know, Tony,” she said. “Maybe he just doesn’t believe he’s out of SI yet. That happens sometimes to soldiers – they forget they’re not fighting anymore and they don’t know what to do.” She dumped the first bowl of julienned carrots into a frying pan and went back to slicing up more. She and Rhodey had a system worked out; they were the only two who could plan out edible meals, and while they didn’t like their job, they were more than happy to do it in order to get out of washing the dishes.
Rhodey picked up the second half of the chicken he had been deboning. “You know, you could go over there and sit with him.”
“I don’t know,” Tony sighed, fidgeting with his collar. “I think its Bucky he wants around.”
“Well Bucky’s not going to go over there, so suck it up buttercup,” Pepper snorted. She gestured at Tony with her carrot juice stained knife. “Now march – get over there. Cheer him up!”
Scowling, Tony sauntered out into the living room. He plastered a smile on his face and flung himself onto the couch beside Steve, draping his arm across the back of it. “Hey,” he said. “What are we watching?”
Steve smiled melancholically. “I don’t know,” he said. “I kind of fell asleep and now I’m lost.”
“Ah,” Tony said, nodding sagely. “You can always check on the channel guide, you know.”
“I know,” Steve said. He hugged his blanket a little closer. He was still using the duvet he had taken from Tony’s house. “I don’t really care. It’s fine like this,” he said.
“You know, there’s a whole world out there,” Tony said. He knew how stupid it sounded, but he couldn’t think of any other way to phrase what he wanted to say without it sounding like an order. “We can go for a walk if you want. It’s still light out, and it’s warmer today. Might be fun.”
Steve looked down at his sock-clad feet. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Bucky’s outside chopping wood, Steve. He’s not fleeing to Mexico in a hot-rod,” Tony said. He elbowed Steve gently. “He’s still out there. We can go visit him.”
Despite the care Tony had taken, Steve wobbled and nearly fell into the arm of the couch.
“Sorry,” Tony said. He reached out to help Steve up and found his hand batted away.
“Its fine,” Steve grumbled. He rubbed absently at the back of his neck. They hadn’t tackled his long hair yet, and it was still hanging down to his feet; he had it pulled back into a ponytail, but kept picking at it as though it was a scab he was trying to tear off.
“We can give you haircut if you want,” Tony offered.
Steve’s eyes flashed. The room began to shake.
Tony held up his hands, his eyes widening. His heart was hammering in his chest. “I’m not saying we have to do it, Steve. I’m saying it’s a possibility if you want it to be,” he said, quickly.
Steve looked down at his feet again; he hunched his shoulders and put his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly.
“It’s ok,” Tony murmured. He remained locked in place with his hands in the air. Steve hadn’t lost control of his powers in a long time, but he didn’t want this to be the first time it happened again; if Steve was feeling well and truly threatened, there might not ever be a next time. He was jarred from his thoughts when he heard Steve’s muffled sob. He lowered his hands immediately, realizing that the sight of them was probably making things worse. “It’s alright,” he said. He hesitated. Should he touch Steve’s back? Should he move at all? He could see Pepper and Rhodey out of the corner of his eye, lurking in the kitchen doorway with their knives discretely out of sight.
Steve lifted his head and wiped at his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed. He wrapped his arms around himself, shrinking in size. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I freaked you out,” Tony said, softly. “It’s ok. You have the right to be afraid, you know.”
“They used to shave my head,” Steve sniffled. He wiped at his nose. “Howard used to make them do it when my hair got too long. He said it made me look weak.”
Tony grimaced. Howard had said the same thing to him growing up. The length of his hair had started more than a few fights; his Goth period in seventh grade had made Howard threaten to both shave his head and disown him. Needless to say, his long, flowing hair had been cut during a trip to the hairdresser with his mother shortly after the threat of disownment had been issued. Maria had convinced him that short hair was just as good, but a part of Tony had always resented that she had given in to Howard’s demands so easily. Now he knew why she had taken him to the hairdresser on her own; Howard probably would have pinned him down and shaved his head if she hadn’t. “Howard’s a dick,” he said. He wrapped his arms around Steve and pulled him into his lap. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
Steve sniffled and leaned against Tony’s chest. “I don’t want to cut my hair,” he said.
“Ok,” Tony said, soothingly. “Then we won’t cut your hair.” He smoothed his hands down Steve’s back, rearranging Steve’s shirt all the while trying not to visibly frown at the feeling of Steve’s spine beneath his fingertips. He had expected Steve to gain some weight already, seeing as how they had been feeding him real food and all, but apparently even three square meals a day wasn’t helping out much. He hoped time would change that; the physical exhaustion must have been horrible for Steve. The poor guy could barely make it from the couch to the bathroom some days.
“He was on the news today,” Steve mumbled. He tucked his face into the hollow of Tony’s throat. “He’s doing announcements again like he’s the president or something.”
“I know,” Tony said, rubbing Steve’s back again. He had seen the news conference on the satellite feed earlier in the morning; they all had. They hadn’t thought it was a good idea to show Steve Howard’s ugly mug, at least not until he had had a few months of freedom under his belt. Someone had obviously abandoned TV guard duty, because Steve had seen the fucking bastard anyway.
“How can he say that kind of stuff about you?” Steve growled. The room began to shake again, only this time it wasn’t threatening; it seemed almost as if the house was growling along with him.
“Believe me. He finds it very easy to pick on me,” Tony chuckled. “He’d probably have a stroke if he had to say something nice about me for a change.”
“He shouldn’t say that stuff,” Steve snapped. The house stopped shaking. “You’re a good person, Tony.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Tony said. He hugged Steve a little tighter.
“Everyone thinks so,” Steve grumbled. He wrapped his arms around Tony’s middle. “I can tell.”
“You can?” Tony asked.
“Sometimes I can read things,” Steve admitted, ducking his head sheepishly. “It’s in the air sometimes – it floats around people. Does that make sense? I feel like I’m going crazy just saying it out loud.”
“You’re not going crazy,” Tony said. Howard had hidden a lot of what Steve was capable of, and they had only just scratched the surface of Steve’s powers; he wasn’t at all surprised that Telepathy or Empathic skills – or whatever it was – had ended up in Steve’s repertoire. He reminded himself not to think bad thought when Steve was around. At least now he could explain why Steve never seemed to be in a good mood. Everyone was hiding something, and most of the team was still suffering from the battles in SI. He vowed to talk to the others about this new discovery too; it would be better if they all knew.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Steve said.
“I know,” Tony said. “You won’t. We’re a strong bunch – we’ll be ok.”
“I could have hurt you,” Steve sniffled.
“But you didn’t,” Tony said, squeezing Steve’s shoulder. “You’re with us and we’ll always be with you, ok? And if not – well, we’ll figure something out.”
“I wish I hadn’t taken the serum,” Steve muttered. “I wish it hadn’t worked.”
“If it hadn’t worked, you wouldn’t be here right now,” Tony said. Sarah Rogers would never have been able to afford the treatment for Steve’s many maladies on her own. Steve would have likely died years ago if Howard hadn’t butted his way into Steve’s life; he wished that Steve hadn’t had to suffer at Howard’s hands but the serum had helped Steve survive, and for that he was grateful.
“I shouldn’t be here,” Steve said, softly.
Tony swallowed hard. This wasn’t the first time Steve had talked like this and he doubted that it would be the last – at least not for a long time. “Honey,” he said. “We care about you. We don’t want to lose you.”
“Tony,” Steve sighed.
“Ok – fine. I care about you,” Tony said. He smoothed down Steve’s hair. He had never really been good with talking about his feelings; they were dangerous, fickle things. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said, forcing his thoughts out. “You’re mine and I’m keeping you.”
Steve’s startled laugh made Tony smile.
“What?” Steve said, looking up. His smiled tentatively, and didn’t look away when Tony met his gaze.
“I know,” Tony grumbled. “I sound like an ass.”
“You want to keep me?” Steve asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Always – if you want to stay,” Tony said.
Steve lifted himself up and rested his palms on Tony’s shoulders. “So if I stay, you’ll have to stick around forever, huh?”
Tony nodded. “I guess so.”
“That’s a pretty big promise,” Steve murmured.
“Is it?” Tony said. “Because I’ve got you and everyone else looking out for me. I don’t think it’s that big of a promise at all. Hell, we’ve got three kittens looking out for us too –”
Steve kissed Tony, his fingers tangling in Tony’s hair; when he pulled away, he was breathless, and his cheeks looked like they had gone a round with one of Pepper’s blush brushes. “Did you not – Did I read that wrong?” Steve stammered.
Tony leaned forwards and gave Steve a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, cupping Steve’s face in his hands. He pulled him down for another kiss – a better kiss – and stubbornly ignored the lewd cat-calls from the kitchen.
Steve tucked his face into Tony’s neck again after he pulled away. He dug his fingers into Tony’s shirt, holding on tightly.
“You ok?” Tony asked. He cupped the back of Steve’s neck and stroked his other hand up Steve’s back again, wondering idly if he was going to have to turn around and tell Pepper and Rhodey off. Those two had the tact of a dump truck sometimes.
“I thought I was dreaming,” Steve said. He drummed his fingers on Tony’s shoulder. “Back when you broke me out of the Vault, I said I didn’t know who you were, but I think I did.”
“Oh?” Tony said.
“I used to dream all the time about sitting in the hallway with a stranger who tried to take care of me. Those were the best dreams I’ve ever had,” Steve mumbled. “I thought you weren’t real – I thought I was making things up. Good things always felt like they were made up.”
“Well, I am pretty amazing,” Tony said, giving Steve’s hip a gentle squeeze. “I can see how you’d think I was a dream come true.”
Steve laughed. “Very funny.”
“Thank you,” Tony said, gravely. “I try.”
“Can I sleep with you tonight? Sometimes the dreams aren’t dreams – sometimes it doesn’t feel like I’m ever going to wake up,” Steve mumbled.
“You can sleep with me whenever you want,” Tony said. “Seriously. My bed is yours.”
Steve melted deeper into Tony’s embrace. “Thank you.”
“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” Tony said, gravely. “I’m a bed hog. You might end up with my feet in your face again.”
Tony didn’t have to see Steve’s face to know he was smiling.
“Well, thank you anyway,” Steve said. He sighed softly and shifted in Tony’s lap, making himself more comfortable. “You’re the only one who ever came to get me,” he said.
“You were worth the trouble,” Tony said, firmly.
“Yeah?” Steve said. “I was?”
“You were definitely worth the trouble,” Tony agreed.
Pepper snorted loudly from the doorway. “You two better not make any more trouble.”
“Yeah, really,” Rhodey grunted. He scowled at Tony. “You better not befoul that couch, Tony Stark.”
Steve’s neck went bright red.
“We’re not going to befoul the couch,” Tony croaked. He turned and glared at Rhodey. “I hate you guys.”
“And we hate you too.” Pepper chuckled. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour,” she said, disappearing back into the kitchen.
Rhodey glared back at Tony. “You’d better like it or you’re cooking next time.”
“You’d really risk giving all of us food poisoning?” Tony asked, curious.
Rhodey scowled. “Never mind.”
Steve let out a long, satisfied sigh. “I could get used to this,” he said.
“Same here,” Tony said with a smile.