billionaires | #inbox

He thinks he's being remarkably patient as Tony rambles. It helps that Steve believes this will end the way it always does. Steve thinks Tony is going to give up and go home once he's rambled himself out. In his defense, history supports this take. Tony always goes his own way eventually. He never seemed to care. That is what throws Steve. Tony seems really concerned about what he's gotten up to this time.

Steve visibly softens in response. Tony won't leave without some kind of answer. He may as well tell the truth. "Someone who needs my help." He lets out a weary sigh, dancing around the truth both to maintain his cover and keep questions to a minimum. "You probably won't be surprised to hear my old friend didn't always care how willing people were to serve their cause. The only difference between now and then is that they got better at it. I need to make sure they don't suffer anymore than they already have. They will if anyone else finds them first." Steve is sure of that much.

"That was nice and vaguey," he comments with a bland smile, only getting more curious by the moment. While by his estimation, they really don't have the time, he knows better than to say as much. Cap is just as stubborn as him when he's set on something and if they both work on whatever this is, they'll be done twice as fast, right? Science. "Come on, take the kid gloves off, lay it on me."

Tony pulls off his glasses and looks up at Steve with probably the most open expression he's ever given the other man.

"If I help you free up your thing, maybe you can help us out with ours. You know, if you're feeling it, or whatever."

It is the kind of opening he's been dying for. Steve opens his mouth to take it before obviously stopping himself. HYDRA tainted everything. The notoriously honest Captain is hesitant to offer the truth to someone he's wanted to connect with forever. He is scared how it will play out; what could happen if someone like Bucky pulled the trigger on that one. (He can't believe it's him; not yet.)

"It's... it might be better for you to sit this one out. There's a lot of snakes in this garden. I don't want you to get bit." That is the truth. The implication Howard had been assassinated still hangs over Steve like a blade. For all he knows whoever did it might want to take Tony out too once he starts nipping at their heels. The guy is persistent.

His expression falls, picking up something akin to a scowl on the way down. He could see the internal struggle — Steve wanted to trust him with whatever this is, but thought better of it at the last minute.

"Come on, Cap. Just call me your resident snake charmer..." His voice lowers, soberer than his previous plea despite the content of his words. "You think I'm scared of a little heat?" To say nothing of all he'd done before Steve came out of the ice, the guy saw him fly a nuke into space and even praised him for it. So what gives?

He shakes his head. Steve knows the man isn't scared of anything. That would be the problem if things weren't so complicated as it stood. "I know you're not." He pauses. There has to be some way to get Tony off this. Once again Steve defaults to the truth. "I'm saying you should be. The person I'm chasing is the one who put me in the hospital. I'm alive because they snapped out of it long enough to save me. That might not happen again." So clearly the danger will get rid of him, right? Tony won't worry at all that his teammate is chasing someone who nearly murdered him once.

He feels a surge of fear, but it isn't for himself, and it turns his blood cold for a full beat.

"All I'm hearing is: you need me." As usual, it's confident, but there's something vulnerable creeping into his gaze. The second he feels it himself the glasses go right back on. "If you're trying to ditch me, you're sucking at it."

Steve is confused by his response. How is that not scaring him off? He seemed scared for a second even! "I'm getting that." His brows knit together as he stares into Tony's glasses. He's still lost on how to ditch him so he may as well ask at this point. "What would it take to get you off this?"

"You could start by explaining what it is I'd be walking away from." He lifts his eyebrows past the reflective frames of his sunnies. "I also wouldn't hate you for offering me a drink."

He feels like he's being conned here. Steve looks unbelievably salty about it. He wishes he could go back to being rude and distant, but like every other time Tony has successfully gotten him to drop the attitude. He's back to leveling with him.

"I can't get drunk so good luck on any drink that isn't coffee." Fair warning and a stall. He doesn't know how to get into this without spilling horrific information. Steve tries after much hesitation. "When I say I'm chasing a ghost, I mean that as close to literally as I can get. He should be dead." He swallows. It never gets any less painful. Steve keeps going. "Just like any good ghost story, there's a lot of secrets involved. Once you hear them, even if half of what you hear turns out to be lies, you can't go back, Tony. Do you understand me?" Steve has gotten himself into a huge mess.

"I love coffee," he reminds Steve with a little frown, watching the other man's face through dark lenses as he tries to figure out who this dead guy could be. As much as he's been fighting it the whole way, Steve sounds like he desperately wants to unburden himself. Tony can be a good listener when he needs to be, unbeknownst to most. He reaches out to touch at Steve's arm, as a cue and also to show he's taking this seriously. "Maybe we should sit down."

He really does want all of this off his chest. Steve looks at Tony with open vulnerability at the touch. At least for a moment it becomes obvious that he's a young man trying to navigate an emotional hellscape against his worst enemies. It's not going well.

Just like that: it's gone. Steve looks away and heads for the coffee pot. "Let me pour you something before we head out." He pulls away to do just that. He fills up a paper cup with only black, hands it off to Tony, before grabbing his cup and going outside. It'll be clear why soon: there's an ugly, dead looking backyard that's only saving grace is a wooden bench. There's no way anyone will want to sit out here. They're as alone as it gets.

Steve settles in on one side, takes a sip of his cooling coffee, and starts with a question. "What do you know about the Howling Commandos?"

Being trusted with that raw emotion feels heavy, especially coming from Steve. It's at times like this he realizes he doesn't think of Steve as the kid he is most of the time. Of course he's scared and confused. Tony is consistently petrified and he's twice the guy's age, it would only follow. He takes the cup with a numb little nod in thanks before following him out into a place he'll charitably refer to as 'The Courtyard.' One side of his mouth hitches up at the thought as he tucks into the opposite side of the bench so he can lean against the metal arm and watch Steve while he speaks. Tony takes a sip while he considers the question. Up until now, he's kept his own knowledge about Steve's past close to the vest. He doesn't see any harm in breaking through a bit of that mystique now.

"Uh... probably a little too much?" He thinks about Dum Dum Dugan being this zombie supersoldier though and he honestly can't picture it. Somehow, he already knows the two are only tangentially related so he leans in a little to facilitate the conversation, trying to express that he's hanging on Steve's every word now without putting any undue pressure on the other man. It's a delicate balancing act, of course, but that's something both of them are used to. Here's hoping it goes better than it usually does between the two.

Steve swallows. That's interesting. Right now the important thing is to get it out. The truth is terrifying. He really can't be sure how Tony will react. He is in over his head. The truth is he really needs an ally right now; a friend. A part of Steve thinks that maybe Tony can check one box. "Then you know that James Buchanan Barnes was the only man we lost. You might even know that Armin Zola experimented on him years before that." His voice is heavy with pain. He can't point out the obvious: Bucky is famous for being his best friend. This is as personal as it gets. He forces himself to look at Tony as he delivers the rest of the news.

"The fall didn't kill him. HYDRA's had Sergeant Barnes all this time. They sent him to kill a lot of people including me, Fury, and Nat. As far as I can tell we're one of the only people who managed to survive our encounters with him."

That has a cold sweat pooling at the base of his neck. Bucky Barnes, Steve's BFF from the 40s?? His knuckles turn white as he clutches the coffee cup too tight and hopes Steve can't make out his terrified expression through his glasses. His terror flips into a deeper pain, one that feels like his guts being turned inside out.

"Why..." It seems petty on multiple levels to ask Steve why he didn't loop him in on this. He was scared, he said so, but it still takes some effort to swallow back down that sharp knife of betrayal. If this guy is out there, he needs to be neutralized, one way or another. "Okay... okay."

Tony takes a tremulous sip before setting his cup down on his thigh and pushing another breath out.

"Now we just have to track down a souped-up supersoldier with brain fry. How hard can that be?"

Steve stares a hole into Tony. It's incredibly unfair to judge him now. He needs to know how Tony takes this. He notes those white knuckles and decides fear is a good thing in this scenario. The soldier just finished explaining the terror his best friend caused strangers and close allies. He should be scared.

Steve's blue eyes go up ahead to a patch of weeds as he notes, "I've failed at it every step of the way." This isn't his area of expertise by a long shot. Maybe Tony will have better luck. There's something else he should share before they go there. Steve forces some coffee down his throat before he can voice it. "There's more if you want to hear it." He tellingly doesn't look at Tony as he says it.

Tony swallows dryly, as usual he insulted Steve without trying. But the other man doesn't seem upset with him, just... resigned. He can empathize with that.

"Who are you, Billy Mays?" he volleys the second the words hit his ears. 'Want' has very little to do with this moment. He gives a sad little sigh, knowing that's a reference Steve probably will not get. He pushes up his glasses and levels Steve with his soberest gaze yet. "If it'll help us find him, I've gotta know."

Steve has no idea what he's talking about as evident by his silence. He focuses on what needs to be said. It's hard. He can't look Tony in the eye as he says it which is unnatural for Steve. In the past, he always spoke his mind without a shred of doubt. This is truly awful. It hurts. He knows not as much as it will hurt Tony though. He can't bear to see it even with their differences. "There's no proof, but an evil AI claimed that your father caught wind of some of this, maybe all of it, and HYDRA had him killed."

He turns his head to take in Tony's reaction with a weary sigh. "I was kind of hoping to find something to confirm or deny it before bringing it up to you." He can't wait any longer if Tony is involved. There's too strong a chance that they'll stumble across something on the hunt. He can't blindside him even if that might be easier in the short term.

He stares at him for a moment, working his jaw for long after Steve is finished speaking like he didn't absorb all of what he said. Though he did - oh did he - but he's still processing it all, will probably be for the next millennia.

"I don't really see how that'll help us find your buddy, but mmkay." It sounds cold, but even Steve should be able to recognize it for the defense mechanism it is.

Steve doesn't argue with him. He just meets his gaze with an eerie amount of calmness. This has been his nightmare for a while. He's comfortably numb at this point. "I also have a Russian file on him. It's not for the faint of heart, but maybe you'll get more out of it than me if you're ready to give it a read." God knows Steve isn't rushing him.

Tony goes uncharacteristically quiet, staring down at his lap and holding his glasses in a vice grip. It's starting to fall into place why Steve has been running around behind his back, the picture on the inside isn't any better but somehow it feels... good, to be allowed into the fold. Even if the results will definitely be horrifying, the more he turns over the words in his head.

"I've got it," he says suddenly, switching his shades to his opposite hand before tucking them into the pocket of his shirt. He reaches out for Steve's arm and just barely brushes calloused hands against his wrist from how far they're sitting apart - easily a metaphor for their relationship (or lack thereof) up until now. "We're gonna get to the bottom of this, okay?"

It's actually hard for Steve to digest what's happening. He's let Tony in on this partly because he didn't think Tony would drop it otherwise, but the rest? Well it's been selfish. He's overwhelmed and tired. He needs new eyes on this.

So why is Tony trying to make him feel better about all this? Steve is openly confused, brows knit together as he tries to work out why Tony is being such a good sport about all this even after he brought Howard up. "You're still in?"

It's not really trying to make Steve feel better as just backing him up to do the right thing, but if it gets him there too as a bonus he can live with it.

"When was I out?" he asks, which could sound biting in the wrong tone, but his is soft now. This brief interaction has worn him ragged and he pulls back his hand to rub at the pressure building between his eyes. "Look, do I wish you had told me about this sooner instead of running off when the world needs us most? Uh, yeah. But I get it. I wasn't always a team player either, hold your shock til the encore, please."

Yeah he still has a knack for exhausting people. Steve nods to himself, satisfied, or at least he thinks. That whole comfortably numb thing doesn't seem to be going away any time soon. Steve is certain of one thing at least. "Thank you. I know you've never seen me at my best and this isn't going to bring that out-" He smiles wryly. Clearly withholding vital information isn't a point in his favor.

"But, thank you."

That earns a scowl and a longer silence than he usually ever employs, especially around Steve. When he gathers enough intensity, he fixes his gaze back the other man's way and shakes his head. "Don't thank me, and it feels weird to be the one saying this to someone else, but: pity party's over, Cap. The coat check awaits us."

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