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Steve didn’t get it. They had been living in the Tower for nine months. And he just… didn’t get it.
Tony adored Bruce, hung off of him and talked fast as Bruce just laughed indulgently and chimed in once in a while. He joked around with Clint and made him crazy arrows that they tried out together in the range. When Clint said he usually made his own gear, Tony examined the stunt arrows with reverence. He told Clint he didn’t allow anyone in his lab unsupervised but said that if he wanted to build his own stuff, he could either have lab space of his own or work in Tony’s lab while he was there. With Thor, Tony took time off work whenever he was on Earth to sit and talk with him for hours. He seemed to be fascinated by Thor’s abilities as a storyteller. He would ask him for stories of his childhood and planet as well as his battles.
But with Steve and Natasha, he showered them with weapons and gifts and then avoided them. Like the plague. He avoided ever being alone with them or even sitting next to them.
When he asked Natasha, she shrugged and said, “He’s hated me for years — ever since I stabbed him in the neck and wrote an unnecessarily cruel and purposefully inaccurate report on him after spying on him for weeks.”
“Why is he giving you so much technology?”
“Tony can’t bear not to take care of the people around him. He feels like if people die it’s on him. We’re on the frontline. Doesn’t matter that he can’t stand me — I’ll always get the very best,” she shrugged again. “It’s not a mystery.”
That explained why he avoided Natasha but not why he kept his distance from Steve. He knew that their first meeting was terrible. But he had tried to make up for it. He tried to be a good leader. Tony followed his orders about sixty percent of the time, which Steve had been informed was more than he usually followed.
When Happy, Pepper or Rhodey turned up, he would light up as he greeted them and then disappear for the entirety of their visit. Happy came, and Tony gave him a bear hug, then he pulled back, looking confused. He took Happy’s hand and raised Happy’s wrist to his ear. “Oh Christ, your poor watch. How much time are you losing?”
“About a minute a month,” said Happy, “I brought it to a watch guy. He didn’t fix it.”
“I’ll fix it,” said Tony, unbuckling from Happy’s wrist. “Come to the lab; visit the kids. They miss you. There are new smoothie recipes.” He led Happy away by the hand.
Steve didn’t see him for four days. The next time Tony appeared in the common area he was wearing a robe, mostly asleep. Gently hip-checking Bruce, Tony nudged him away from the coffee machine mumbling that Happy drank all of his.
Bruce smiled at him fondly and said, “How is Happy?”
“On a plane going home,” Tony shrugged, seeming dejected. He appeared mostly asleep, raw, as he said, “Stark Tower was supposed to be a fresh start for all of us. Now it’s Avengers Tower, and he and Pepper are in Malibu… it was good while he was here. I miss my friends, but Platypus is coming next week.”
Steve asked Natasha about that, if she knew what Tony had meant. She sighed and shook her head, “Tony was asked, multiple times, to be an Avenger. He said no every time. He agreed to be a consultant. I was sent to write my report to… do you know what negging is?” he shook his head. “It’s a way of hitting on people. You insult them to lower their self-confidence and make them more open to your advances. Everyone wants what they can’t have. If you tell someone you don’t like them and you don’t want them, they pay more attention to you and want you to like them. My report — the one you read — was designed to hurt Tony and make him want in. Tony is a hero, and it was miscalculated. It might have worked on the Tony who existed before Afghanistan. But the man who came back — the torture survivor with a clear view of the world and his own actions — didn’t care. And he still said no. But then New York happened.”
She looked remorseful as she said, “We needed a pinch hitter because Clint was out of commission, and Fury couldn’t get a hold of a woman called Carol Danvers. The building his family was supposed to move into was weaponized. His girlfriend left him for being too brave and self-sacrificing. She wanted to stay in Malibu. He wanted Happy — the head of security — to keep her safe in Malibu. Rhodey got tapped to protect the President. So Happy and Rhodey’s three-floor mansion-like apartments were converted into living spaces for guests. His and Pepper’s Penthouse got changed into a bachelor pad. When Fury said, ‘You’re an Avenger; suck it up; house the rest of them,’ he was too tired to argue. But he never wanted this.
“Iron Man flies solo or with War Machine. He built the armor to save himself and fix the problems he, his company and his father had made. He builds technology to save the world and improve lives around the globe. Fighting bad guys and spy games wasn’t his goal. He hates spies. In Tony’s eyes, all spies do is meddle in people’s lives, lie, steal and cheat. Tony values honesty more than anything. No one is less honest than a spy.”
“He likes Clint,” said Steve.
“Clint is a deaf carney with an incredible skill who SHIELD went to and said, ‘Hey, prison or come work for us?’ He’s not a born spy; he’s a reformed crook and that’s much more palatable to Tony.”
“That’s how he was recruited?” asked Steve, floored.
“A lot of us were recruited like that. But I was a spy from Russia who they recruited to being a spy for SHIELD. And he was a thief with a circus. He knew how to case a building and get in and out unseen. I knew how to topple a regime. There’s a difference.”
When Rhodey came, Tony disappeared again, dragging him to the lab and babbling about upgrades and things he just had to show Rhodey.
“I want to see the kids,” Rhodey said, “it’s been too long and I’ve heard good things about the new smoothies.”
Three days later, they appeared in the common area, and Tony spoke to the room, saying, “I have to go to a board meeting because Pepper will kill me if I miss it. Entertain my honey bear.” He kissed Rhodey’s cheek. “Have fun.”
“Go crush it,” said Rhodey. After he left, Rhodey helped himself to coffee and asked, “How is life in Stark Tower?”
“It has the mighty title of Avengers Tower now, friend,” said Thor.
Rhodey scrunched his nose, “Three years of Tony and Pepper’s lives went into building this place with thousands of man hours from lawyers and hundreds of meetings with the city and millions of comments from the public. You guys just turned up. It’s Stark Tower. So, how has it been since I was here last?”
Clint launched into a story about new arrows and exploits in the range. They laughed, and Clint asked, “Hey, did you try the platypus smoothie?”
“Absolutely disgusting. I choked it down because DUM was so proud and watching me. But God. I mean, at least it didn’t have actual platypus meat in it. Who would try to combine Sour Patch Kids, gummy bears, honey and ice cream in a blender?”
“It’s in your honor, honey bear,” said Clint.
“Don’t call me that,” said Rhodey.
“Sour patch?” Clint hazarded.
“Not that either,” said Rhodey.
“Can I call you platypus?” asked Clint.
“At this rate you’re gonna be calling me Colonel Rhodes,” said Rhodey.
“I hate your smoothie,” said Clint.
“Yeah, it was disgusting. I claimed it was just too decadent and asked for a strawberry one,” agreed Rhodey.
“The strawberry one is always great,” said Clint.
Rhodey laughed, “That shows how new you are. Until a few years ago DUM was dangerous around a blender. You never knew if it was coffee or motor oil, whipped cream or shaving cream. It was always creative but often poisonous. Tony would just thank him and praise him. He got to where he is now after decades of trials.”
Steve had no idea who Dum was. He knew that Tony sometimes walked around with homemade smoothies, but he never really questioned where they came from. He had assumed Tony made them.
When Rhodey and Clint were done talking, Steve said, “Rhodey can I borrow you?” Rhodey looked confused but nodded.
They went to the library where no one ever went and Rhodey raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, Captain?” They both settled down onto the leather couches in the center of the room.
“I need your help,” said Steve. “Tony doesn’t like me. I’ve tried. But he doesn’t like me.”
Rhodey’s face became a little less friendly and more guarded. “You’ve tried?” Steve nodded. “What are Tony’s kids’ names?”
“I’ve never met any kids of Tony’s.”
“You’ve lived here for nine months. Whether or not you’ve met them, you should know their names if you’re trying,” said Rhodey.
Seemingly taking pity on Steve, Rhodey said, “It’s not all you, man. Look… he’d kill me for saying it but would also slit his own throat before explaining this to you himself. When he was four years old, he built a dirt bike engine, hoping it would make Howard proud and that his dad would pay attention to him. And Howard did pay attention. He got Tony tutors, took away all his toys and replaced them with tools. The only toys left in his room were his Captain America action figures because Howard said you were a hero, icon and role model. Tony read all the history books and all the Man with a Plan comics. Howard spent all of Tony’s childhood obsessed with finding you. He founded SHIELD with Peggy to find you. He spent weeks on boats trolling the ocean for you. You were Howard’s driving force, and Tony wasn’t even an afterthought. Tony was too little to resent you. He idolized you too, and he had such low self-esteem that he believed it made sense that his dad picked you over him at every opportunity. You were part God, part myth, part imaginary friend. When he was six, he was sent to boarding school with ten-year-olds. That imaginary you was his only friend.
“As he got older, he got less innocent and realized how messed up it was that Howard placed a presumed-dead guy over his family. He was trying to work through his complicated feelings about how his imaginary friend, who was a comfort as a very lonely child, was also a real person his father abandoned him for and was — indirectly — the root of his loneliness. Then, his dad killed himself and Tony’s mom while drunk driving. Tony never got any closure. He was seventeen, and he never got to know his dad.
“For decades after Howard died, Tony tried to make him proud. In his grief, he still tried to make Howard like him. He built weapon after weapon and made billions of dollars for the company. His dad made the two best weapons in history: the atomic bomb and Captain America. Tony tried to make him proud.
“Problem is, Tony’s not built to make grotesque weapons, not really. Tony did so many self-destructive things to distract himself from how much he hated his job. He drank, did drugs and had anonymous sex to stop himself from screaming. Then Afghanistan happened and Iron Man was born. He shut down the weapons and all the green energy started. All the fun tech began. All the medical breakthroughs started coming out. Tony got to be himself for the first time ever. The media called him a superhero and he laughed it off, but only kind of. And he said, ‘Dad would be livid that I’m not selling the armor to the government. But, I think Cap would be really proud.’”
He studied Steve, “Then he met you. It’s not your fault that you didn’t live up to his imaginary friend. No one can blame you for that. But telling him that you knew men worth ten of him? Telling him to put on his suit so you could beat him up? Telling a man who has almost died protecting people again and again that he isn’t a hero? That’s not the way to make an impression. Tony walked away with a new perspective. It’s no wonder Howard liked you: you’re both bullies with fluffed-up reputations.”
Rhodey studied his hands for a moment. Steve wanted to protest that he wasn’t a bully, that emotions had been running high. But before he could gather his thoughts to say anything, Rhodey said, “A few years ago, he was sick, almost died. He covered it, didn’t tell anyone but his kids. He told us when he was out of the woods. I hit the roof. I totally lost it. I begged him to go to therapy, to learn how to handle shit like a normal person. It’s done him a hell of a lot of good. It’s taught him to deal with a lot of things better, including hangers-on. He used to try to make people like him. He used to want everyone in the room to love him. Nowadays, he has a much healthier approach. He has people who like him. He doesn’t need to earn affection. No one should earn love.
“Natasha suggested you go to the VA and figure out your pension and talk to vets, you said you didn’t want to. So, Tony pays for all of your living expenses. You’re an Avenger so he makes all your gear to keep you safe. You destroy punching bags, so he built better ones to save himself money in the long run because he makes military body armor. But you don’t get lunch invites, you don’t get a pass into the penthouse to watch movies in PJs, you don’t meet his kids.”
Studying Steve’s face, he said, “You could know their names by now, even without asking him. Clint knows his kids, Bruce knows them and Natasha has met them, but I honestly don’t know if she bothered to learn their names. I’m not sure if Thor does; he’s so vague. He’s met and played with them, but Tony wouldn’t hold it against him if he didn’t take their names in. And, to be honest, it’s kind of a trick question: Tony has four kids. If you had said JARVIS, I would have accepted that you knew at least one of his kids’ names. J doesn’t have a body. He’s still Tony’s third-born.”
Rhodey leaned forward to him and said, “I’m not going to help you, Steve. You’re not a good friend for him. You’re a leech. He learned how to deal with those: get rid of them if he can or, if he can’t, give them as much as he needs to to make his life easy. You can have as much money as you want and as much gear as you need. But you don’t get his time; that is reserved for his friends. He’s the president of a fortune twenty, he’s the head of the R&D department making world-saving technology, he’s Iron Man. The hour a day he gets for himself is to be spent with people who make his life better. That’s not you.”
Standing, he said, “If you really want to do this… go to the VA, make some friends, get some therapy, get your pension. Become someone who doesn’t need him. He doesn’t need projects. Tony’s friends are all complete people and a hell of a lot less volatile than you.” With a slight head tilt, he said, “Sorry for the honesty, but he is my best friend, and I don’t let idiots mess with him.”
“Colonel?” said JARVIS. “Things are happening in the lab. Butterfingers has a staple gun and is threatening U’s sewing project.”
“For God’s sake,” Rhodey said, “Dad has been gone for less than two hours.” He left at a quick march.
“Butterfingers and You?” Steve muttered.
“My younger sister and older brother, respectively,” answered JARVIS with a distinctive cold note.
“He called his kids Butterfingers and You?”
“They’re learning robots. U will be devastated if Butterfingers ruins his sewing project but Butterfingers is angry enough that she doesn’t care about his feelings. She’ll regret it later and spend weeks trying to make friends again. It will be obnoxious. Hopefully our godfather will calm everyone down,” said JARVIS, still with a chill.
“And who is the fourth?” asked Steve.
“DUM-E, he makes smoothies. He’s physically the clunkiest because he was programed by Sir when he was thirteen but he’s also the smartest because he’s been alive for so long. He’s smart enough that he is staying out of the fight and working on a prototype so when Sir comes back he will get cooed at and kissed while U and Butterfingers will both get a talking to.”
“If he’s clunky, why doesn’t Tony reprogram him?”
“You don’t like being described as America’s blue-eyed boy. Why don’t you have your eyes transplanted for brown ones?” JARVIS replied, voice positively frigid. “Just because he doesn’t like being perceived as less than the others doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with who he is. He’s a wonderful older brother.”
“I should go apologize to Rhodey,” said Steve. “I think I asked too many prying questions.”
“You don’t have lab clearance,” said JARVIS.
“I can knock; he can come out when he is ready.”
JARVIS didn’t argue against it. Steve took the elevator down to Tony’s lab. The space was huge. He had never been inside and only briefly seen it when they had first moved in. It had clear, blast-proof glass walls around it to protect against explosions. It looked like a bomb site but a fun one. Rhodey stood in the middle of it with three huge machines around him. They were all arms on large bases with wheels.
He could hear Rhodey clearly as the man said, “So, you’re going to draw your feelings instead of breaking things. You are going to draw her an apology — no sewing for an hour, mister. And you are going to pick the movie, because you didn’t get involved.”
All three robots wheeled away. Two were faster than the third. The zippy pair went to a massive assortment of art supplies at what appeared to be a designated art area. The third went to a TV remote control that was huge compared to the ones in the living area. It seemed to have been designed for large, clawed hands. The robot clicked through menus, slowly spelled out a film title and made a trilling, excited noise when it popped up.
Rhodey smiled at the machine, “Sure, Dum-E, Forrest Gump is a good movie. We all like it. It was nice of you to pick something we all like. You get comfy. I’m going to clean up Dad’s lab bench for him. It’s a pigsty.” The robot beeped, and Rhodey said, “No, kiddo, you’ve been helpful enough; go charge and relax. I’ll come join you.”
The robot hit the remote, and the movie started to play on a large screen. Then it trundled over to a couch and settled down next to it on a metal pad, sinking with a whir of motors. Rhodey turned toward the lab bench and saw Steve. Steve gave a half wave. But he didn’t take a step toward the door, didn’t try to interrupt. Steve had intruded enough on their family time as it was. Instead, he turned back toward the elevator and returned the way he had come.
He had lived in the Tower for nine months; until now, he’d never realized it was a family home. He was nothing more than a house guest.