Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 2

Nothing Feels Right Anymore (Stark/Rogers)

I'm not a Stony shipper, but this is for those who are, and I'm sorry.

I'm sorry Tony, you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other choice.

"The tower is empty, boss. No sign of Captain Rogers."

Tony pulled into the garage and took his parking spot, almost in autopilot; he had no real recollection of his drive in or how he even managed to get there safely other than that FRIDAY would ensure it. His mind had been replaying the events of the last few days over and over in his mind, and only now did he have clear enough thought to return home. But was it merely his home, or was it still their home? With no way to contact Steve, he might never know.

He's my friend.

"So was I," Tony scoffed aloud, slamming his hands on the wheel. "I'm such an asshole. So was I? What kind of fucking answer was that? I'm not your friend, Steve. I was never just your friend." He leaned back in the seat and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the images from his mind. They had hurt each other, just as they had promised to never do; they were out for the kill against the one person they were supposed to protect. Each other.

With a deep sigh that shook his own resolve, he opened the door and made his way into the tower. The ride to the living area took forever, feeling like the elevator was trying to spare him from the pain that he would see when its doors opened. The bell that announced its arrival rang through his head like a dagger, its cheerful tone an insult to pain he was feeling. The doors pushed open with an aching slowness, and he had to will himself to move forward. He took a step out and dropped his bags, exhaling in exhaustion, wanting nothing more than to see him there waiting for him. When he opened his eyes, he never expected his wish to materialize.

"Steve?"

~~~

Captain, you seem a little defensive.

He knew that going back to the tower now could backfire, and that Tony could turn him in. He knew that it could reignite a fight that they had barely made it out alive from. He knew that Sam was right, that it was a terrible idea; but he also knew that he had to go. There was no way to guarantee what reception he would receive from Tony, despite their history; the fight had been too violent and far too personal. Sure, they had fights in the past, but they looked like childish bickering now. This had broken them, but he had to know if it was irreparable. Would Tony even be able to look him in the eye, after everything?

You just started a war.

Steve sat quietly in the car, parked on the street in front of the tower, waiting for his body to move; he had been there for almost an hour when he finally decided it was time. His concern that security wouldn't allow him past the entry was dashed when they welcomed him, though their solemn faces told him of their disappointment. Their expressions told him that this was no longer his home. He took the stairs, painstakingly aware of each step, punishing himself with each touch of his foot. The elevator would have been to fast and would have spared him the torture. He deserved this.

When he reached the lounge, it was empty and dark, but FRIDAY alerted him that Tony was on the way. He didn't know that Steve would be there, and now the Captain was wondering if that was such a good idea. He pulled out his phone, but before he could dial, the elevator doors spread open.

"Tony?"

~~~

"I'm surprised to see you here, Steve," Tony said plainly, trying to fight the initial urge to run to him. "I didn't think I'd ever see you here again."

"I didn't think so either, to be honest."

Tony left his bags where they lie and stepped into the lounge, heading straight for the bar to calm his growing nerves. He had never not known how to talk to Steve, but now he was at a complete loss. It was like talking to a stranger. "What do you want?"

"I handled things...badly."

"You think?"

"So did you."

With a long drink, Tony emptied his glass and refilled it. "No shit. Drink?"

Steve waved his hand in declination, cautiously moving forward to sit at the bar nearby. "I'm not gonna sugar coat this, Tony. You and I..." he paused with a small shake of his head.

"Is there a 'you and I'?"

"Right now?" Steve began to wring his hands together on top of the bar, watching the color shift in his fingers from the pressure, "nothing about us feels right anymore. Even before all of this. I know you agree with me. At least on this if nothing else."

"That doesn't answer my question, Steve." Tony tilted his head and threw back another drink, pouring himself one more. The stress of this moment was almost too much. The answer that Steve was about to give him would either elate or destroy him, but not knowing which was coming, he needed a little extra strength from this particular bottle.

After a few excruciating minutes, Steve leaned back and looked at him, his eyes filled with exhaustion and pain, but an emptiness that gave Tony his answer before a single word was spoken.

"No."