Chapter Text
In the aftermath of everything that has happened Tony has a lot of expectations.
He expects the disappointment that comes with Thor leaving so quickly when Tony still has so many questions.
He expects the sheer jaw dropping expansiveness of the wide scale damage reports that start to pour into JARVIS’ systems.
He even expects the way that Bruce agrees to stay in the Tower with him, shy and slightly skittish for all that his raging sea like aura never really calms. Or, maybe, because of it.
He even expects the way Barton and Romanov shoot him tiny, synchronized waves, and slip away into the nearest SHIELD issued car.
But what Tony isn’t expecting, and probably should have been, is Steve.
Steve who comes to him afterwards, slightly bashful, slightly ashamed, and thrusts a large warm hand out in his direction.
“Mr. Stark,” Steve says, a small ridge of red riding high on his cheeks.
Tony’s throat clicks slightly as he swallows, eyes riveted on that slight blush behind the safety of his sunglasses.
“Call me Tony, Cap,” he finally says, voice thankfully even. He still has to bite down a small shudder when he takes that hand in his.
Steve’s hand is warm and practically engulfs his own. And no matter how hard he tries Tony can’t completely help the small noise he makes in the back of his throat because touching Steve like this, skin to skin, feels like having sunlight poured directly into his veins.
Tony has never felt anything like it before in his life.
“Steve then,” Steve replies, a small smile blooming across his face for a split second before he wipes it away. “I ah … I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Tony, hand still wrapped in Steve’s, just blinks and tilts his head to the side, more than a bit thrown.
“For the helicarrier,” Steve says as he brings his other hand up to rub at the back of his hair, “for what I said, how I acted. It was … I’m just sorry.”
Tony’s silent for a second too long and he sees the way Steve’s face begins to fall and has to scramble to head that expression off at the pass.
“No,” he manages to say quickly, “no it’s, it’s alright. We both said things we didn’t really mean Ca- Steve. So let’s just chalk it up to a bad day and the scepter’s influence alright?”
The smile Steve gives him lights up his entire face and Tony …
Tony is gone.
And he should have been expecting it, really he should have.
Because he’s only ever been obsessed with two things.
Innovation.
And Steve.
~~~
“So,” Bruce says when Tony and him are finally in the car together and headed back towards the Tower, “you two patch things up? When’s the first date?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tony keeps his eyes on the road and his face carefully calm and blank.
“If you say so, Tony,” the smile in Bruce’s voice is audible.
Tony is glad to hear it even if it’s at his expense.
~~~
It’s late and Bruce is ensconced on his new floor a few spots below the slightly wrecked penthouse when Rhodey finally arrives at the Tower.
JARVIS announces him when he’s ten minutes or so away but it’s mostly unnecessary.
Tony can feel him, clearer now than ever before, like finally having the knowledge of just who and what he is has made their bond all the stronger and Tony all the more aware of it.
It’s good, warm and comforting in that way that Rhodey has always been for him.
But that doesn’t mean Tony isn’t curious, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like teasing Rhodey just a bit.
Especially not with Thor’s words about priests still ringing in his ears.
So he waits until Rhodey settles down on the landing pad, waits until he’s free of the armor, and just an arm’s length or so away, and then Tony strikes.
He reaches out for the thick silver cord that connects the two of them, wraps a mental hand around it, and pours all of his affection and appreciation into it in one massive surge.
Rhodey’s eyes go wide and his hand flies up to clutch at his heart, tears welling in his eyes.
Tony catches him when he stumbles.
Because it’s about time he returns the favor.
“What the fuck?” Rhodey breathes as he latches onto Tony with arms that feel as strong as steel. “Tones, what the fuck was that?”
“You’re my best friend,” Tony says simply because explanations can wait for later, “and I love you, Rhodey. I figured it was about time I showed you just how much.”
“I love you too you little idiot,” Rhodey tells him as he pulls him even closer and tucks Tony’s head into the crook of his neck. “But if you ever pull another stunt like this shit with the wormhole again I’ll find a way to kill you myself.”
Tony, face pressed against the neck of the only home he’s known for decades, laughs.
~~~
“A god huh?” Rhodey says as he sits beside Tony on the edge of the landing pad, feet dangling off the edge and a beer in his hand. Pepper would have a fit if she saw the two of them so close to the edge but Rhodey’s always been just as fond of heights as Tony has.
Plus Tony’s an actual god, he’s pretty sure the fall wouldn’t kill him.
Also JARVIS totally has the armor on standby behind them just in case. Tony’s obviously chosen the best priests in existence because they’ve both got his back even when he doesn’t really need it.
“Yup,” Tony pops the p obnoxiously as he takes a sip of the shake Rhodey had automatically moved to make him once they were inside. He doesn’t really need it but feeding him is basically a comfort gesture for Rhodey by now so Tony had just rolled with it.
Hell it’s a comfort gesture for Tony too if he’s being honest with himself. Always has been. Jarvis had stated it and then Rhodey had carried it on.
“And me and JARVIS,” Rhodey starts slowly as he rolls his bottle back and forth between the palms of his hands, “we’re your … priests, right?”
“You are on fire tonight Sour Patch,” Tony snips half heartedly because he can’t help the small stirring of unease in his chest that’s been building ever since he started the story of just what he’d learned from Thor.
He trusts Rhodey, he truly does, but Tony can’t help that tiny bit of doubt, that small hissing voice that taunts him with the possibility that this is it. That this is, despite everything in their past, the final straw.
There’s a moment of drawn out silence that goes on long enough to have Tony picking nervously at his own nails, cuticles ripping and healing right before his eyes.
And then ...
“I’m not wearing robes,” Rhodey finally says as he drains his beer and turns to toss the bottle into the bucket of ice the armor is holding.
“I was thinking baby oil and a speedo actually,” Tony shoots back automatically as relief rails through him. “Something small, tight, and red. It’ll go good with your skin once we get you all oiled down.”
“You would,” Rhodey rolls his eyes but Tony can see the small hint of a smile lingering around the corner of his mouth. “Not wearing that either, especially since it’ll just be me. J’s kind of lacking in the body department.”
“You’ve got a point,” Tony agrees. “Guess I’ll have to nix the speedos then since J can’t participate. Wouldn’t be fair and you know me, I’m all about equality.”
“My regret is both far reaching and unending,” JARVIS pipes up through the armor’s speakers, voice droll. “I might never recover from the disappointment.”
“Just for that,” Tony scowls as he tips his head back to look up at the armor, “I’m gonna put you in charge of building my first temple.”
“I had assumed the Tower would double as such,” JARVIS cuts back.
“Oh no,” Tony denies, purposefully over the top, “I want something even more me. I’m thinking gold and rubies and statues. I want frescoes J. We’re gonna go full Greek.”
“Perhaps it would be for the best if I were in charge of construction,” JARVIS surprisingly enough agrees. “At least this way it is assured that your flag ship place of worship will be suitably ornate but relatively ... tasteful. Though I do insist you keep the statues and fertility festivals to a minimum, Sir. Or you run the risk of being accused of over compensation.”
There’s a pause.
“Well,” JARVIS adds then, voice thoughtful, “more so than usual at least.”
Tony, utterly delighted and twin silver bonds singing in his chest, tosses his head even further back and laughs, loud and bright and heart stoppingly happy.
Rhodey brings a strong arm up and tosses it around his shoulder, pulls him closer to his side, and just keeps him there, chest rumbling with his own laughter, while Tony practically shakes with glee.
“You know,” Rhodey says once they’ve both calmed down, “it makes sense.”
“Really?” Tony can’t help but cut a surprised look up at him. “Cause honestly you’re taking this way better than I expects. I honestly think I might have been more freaked out when I found out than you are right now.”
“One of these days you’re gonna believe me when I say this shit,” Rhodey sighs as he brings the arm around Tony’s shoulders up so he can ruffle Tony’s hair with a large hand. “You’re my best friend, you idiot. My little brother as far as I’m concerned. So, human or not, god or not, I’ll do whatever it takes to help you. I’m always going to have your back. Because I love you man, and that means more to me than anything else.”
Tony’s silent, words stolen right out of his mouth because he is, as always, humbled by the love he can feel shining down the bods to him. By the devotion he’s somehow managed to find in his life despite all the odds being stacked against him.
“If I may, Sir” JARVIS speaks up quietly from the armor again. “My loyalty, whatever love I can or will ever feel, will always be yours as well. No matter what.”
“I love you guys too,” Tony doesn’t even try to pretend like his eyes aren’t misty, like a weight he didn’t know or rather wouldn’t admit out loud he was still carrying has been lifted off of his shoulders.
They really do love him.
Even knowing the full story about what he is, they still love him.
‘The best priests’, Tony can’t help but think to himself again as he presses closer to Rhodey’s side, ‘the best family’.
~~~
Rhodey leaves the next morning, forced to report back to base no matter how much they’d both rather he stay.
Tony throws himself headfirst into keeping busy by turning the full force of his influence and power towards helping out with the recovery efforts.
And he’s not, surprisingly enough, the only one either.
But, again, maybe Tony should have been expecting this too.
Tony finds out within a handful of hours on the ground that they’ve all, apparently, decided to start helping with the reconstruction efforts in their own ways.
Tony’s been organizing debris clearing and gathering up Chitauri tech alongside other financially heavy issues with Pepper and JARVIS’ help since basically the moment everything ended. And now, with Rhodey gone, he’s even been out and about to do some heavy lifting with the armor.
Bruce, still skittish, has been in the more background position of staying in the lab. Background but no less important as he’s been filling his time with the often disgusting task of examining the Chitauri remains.
And Steve … Tony’s seen him more than once both up close and from a distance, both in and out of uniform, helping rescue efforts on the ground. He’s been pulling civilians out of rubble, lifting concrete slabs and hunks of debris like they’re light as a feather in places where machinery can’t safely get to yet.
Tony’s not all that surprised that the other two haven’t been widely seen yet although JARVIS has sent him whispers and hastily snapped pictures of red hair and conspicuously placed arrows near areas survivors have been found by SHIELD volunteers.
‘Spies’, Tony can help but think with no small amount of budding fondness.
The Avengers, as scattered as they might be at the moment, are already growing on him.
These young almost gods who will, if Thor and the gut feeling Tony can’t seem to shake are right, soon rise up to join Tony in their new pantheon.
Tony can hardly wait.
~~~
A week flashes by in what seems like a snap and New York, as always, bounces back rather quickly.
So with the last of the projected survivors found, Tony’s been free to turn his attention to the more long term issues of recovery.
Things like rebuilding homes and businesses, like more permanent housing for anyone who might’ve been displaced.
Like trying to convince Fury that this … invasion wasn’t a one off.
Like trying not to remember how warm and solid and beautiful Steve had been even in the midst of everything.
Tony is pretty sure that the last one is somehow harder to do than all of the others combined.
~~~
‘ I swear by Tony Stark I am going to pass this fucking math test or die trying,’ a young and slightly squeaky voice snarls in the back of Tony’s head apropos of nothing when he’s in the kitchen with Bruce making smoothies.
Tony, startled, jerks, bangs his hand on the edge of the table and the shakes the small sting away with a hiss.
Bruce, brows arched up high above his glasses, stares at him in amusement and curiousity from across the counter.
“Nothing,” Tony waves him off, “just got distracted, it happens … a lot.”
“Somehow,” Bruce drawls lightly even as he turns back to his tablet with a small smile, “I really don’t doubt that.”
Tony stares at him for a moment before he shakes his head and goes back to what he was doing.
He can’t remember if Bruce’s eyes were always that vibrantly green or if it’s a change that’s happened recently. He’s pretty sure he knows the answer even if it’s not something he can do anything about either way.
That doesn’t stop the small thread of anticipation in his chest from winding just a bit tighter.
He’s already tired of being the only awakened god of their little almost pantheon.
If Bruce is going to wake up next … well Tony’s not going to do or say anything to endanger that.
~~~
“Tony,” Steve smiles at him from where he’s standing in the lobby of the Tower, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket as he rocks back and forth just a bit on his heels.
He looks warm and solid and just a bit bashful.
“Steve,” Tony steps forward and accepts the handshake that Steve automatically offers him and takes a moment to savor the slight shiver that rolls down his spine as they touch.
Now that he’s pretty sure it’s going to happen each time they touch Tony figures he might as well enjoy it.
“I wanted to stop by before I head out,” Steve tells him, hand still holding Tony’s own.
“You going somewhere?” Tony ask, more than a bit surprised and far more disappointed than he wants to admit.
“I … slept for a long time,” Steve looks slightly rueful, “and now that there’s not much I can do to help out here I figured … well seems like a good time to travel around a bit. Get used to the world, see the country some. Get my feet back underneath me. That kind of thing.”
Tony understands exactly what he means. He’d felt off kilter after coming back from Afghanistan and he’d turned to his little family, the armor, and his new mission to help him find his balance.
Steve … Steve doesn’t have any of that, not really.
Honestly, now that Tony’s really thinking about it, Steve doesn’t have much of anything at all.
And that … well that’s just not going to cut it.
Not if Tony has anything to say about it.
Standing there, Steve’s hand wrapped around his own, the plans Tony’s already had whirling and clicking around in the back of his head solidify into a certainty.
“You stay safe, have fun, and call me if you need anything,” Tony tells Steve softly, honestly. “I mean it Steve. Anything at all, even just to talk. Might not be the most … emotionally in touch person in this century but I’ll pick up, no matter the time, day or night. So call. And when you get done seeing the country, getting a feel for life these days, you come back here. Okay? You come home. Because this,” Tony waves his free hand in the air around him to indicate the Tower, “this is all gonna be here waiting for you.”
‘I’m gonna be here waiting for you,’ is what Tony doesn’t say.
But if the way Steve smiles, slow and soft, and tugs Tony in to hug him tightly is anything to go by, Steve hears it loud and clear anyways.
~~~
Steve leaves and Tony, hands in his own pockets, watches him go.
And deep in his chest something stretches and unfurls just a bit.
It’s pale and thin but Tony knows it for what it is.
A bond, not yet developed or fully realized, it floats there just out of reach, the chord a faded out red that makes his heart beat just a bit faster.
A slowly growing bond stretching out between him and Steve.
Connecting them.
~~~
A few nights later Steve calls.
His voice is warm and slightly husky as he talks about the museum he went to, the parks he drove by, the way it feels to be out on the open road with his bike and none of the stress of the war.
And when he asks Tony about his day …
Tony actually answers him, tells him about the repairs to the armor, about Bruce’s work on the Chitauri, about organizing more clean up crews around the city.
They talk for over an hour before they hang up.
It’s easy, natural.
Tony never wants it to end.
It’s the best Friday he’s had in … longer than he wants to admit.
~~~
‘Iron Man, please,’ the voice, small and soft floats through Tony’s thoughts as he’s in the middle of his hologram field working on an update to the armor.
Tony pauses, tilts his head to the side for a moment to listen, but doesn’t hear anything else. The voice, or whatever it was, is gone. All that’s left is the heavy bass of the music he’s listening to and the sounds of the bots working with the blocks he’d given them in the corner.
Eventually Tony just shakes his head and goes back to work.
He’s got more important things to do than get caught up in voices that aren’t really there.
~~~
Time passes and Tony settles even further into life with Bruce in the Tower.
It’s easy sharing space with Bruce and the raging ocean he carries around with him. And that’s not even mentioning the ever present possibility of meeting the Hulk again.
Still Tony finds it far easier than it probably should be. Or at least, far easier than Pepper and Happy, as accepting as they are, seem to think it should be. They’re always nice and polite, open and kind, but even Tony can tell that they both tend to step a bit easier around Bruce when they’re in the Tower.
But then Tony’s obviously never been normal, fully realized godhood aside, and there’s only a faint sense of fondness and anticipation inside of him when he thinks about the Hulk.
Tony admits though that the fact that Steve calls him, without fail, every Friday as he settles into whatever hotel or B&B he’s picked for the weekend and then every Monday before he heads back out for the week might have something to do with his overall good mood.
He doesn’t really tell anyone that but if the way Bruce grins at him just a bit, finally more at home and comfortable in his skin when it’s just the two of them, is anything to go by Tony’s pretty sure he’s not fooling anyone.
But then Tony isn’t really trying to pretend like Steve’s calls don’t utterly delight him.
Like he doesn’t wait all week for Friday to come around. Like he doesn’t spend hours now on the phone with Steve. Like he doesn’t dread the two day wait before they talk again and then the days after that before Friday rolls back around.
Like he hasn’t been texting more lately than he has in the past decade combined.
Tony has no interest in hiding any of that.
Because how could he ever hide what Steve means to him when after every call the bond between them seems to deepen just a bit, chord growing a fraction stronger, a hint brighter.
Tony’s never had a red colored bond before but he thinks he knows why.
He’s pretty sure that whatever it represents, whatever it’s building towards, has just been waiting for Steve this entire time.
And Tony’s more than okay with that.
~~~
‘Dear Stark, help ...’ a voice slides across the edges of Tony’s senses, a fragile whisper of sound that fades out before Tony can really gather the attention to focus on it.
It’s been happening more and more lately, the whispers, the little unknown voices peeking into his head at random times.
Tony’s been brushing them off for the most part, determined not to be outwardly startled by them again like he had the first time.
They’ll either stop or they’ll get clearer, easier to hear and understand.
Either way there’s nothing Tony can really do about them for the moment.
~~~
And then …
~~~
It’s Wednesday, Tony’s in the workshop pretending like he’s not just wiling away the days till Friday as he waits for Steve’s call, when it happens.
‘Dear Iron Man can you stop my daddy like you stopped the aliens?’ a voice whispers across the back of Tony’s mind and everything within him freezes, goes still. ‘Amen.’
Because that …
That was a little girl’s voice, young and obviously frightened, and as clear as a bell. Unlike the other voices Tony’s been hearing, this one was almost as if it was whispered directly into his ear.
And it … it’s not something Tony can just ignore.
Not like the others who were never clear enough to really matter anyways.
Not when there’s a chance this could be something more.
Not when he still remembers, decades later, what it felt like to wish and dream about someone, about Steve, saving him from Howard’s fists.
So Tony closes his eyes and focuses, turns his attention inwards and searches.
And … there!
On the edge of his senses and fading out slowly, is a soft electric blue strand, colored just like the bonds that connect him to Pepper and Happy.
Only this one is gossamer thin like what connects him to the bots and it’s fading fast.
Tony throws himself forward towards it, desperation heavy in his chest for some reason, and then he latches onto it with all of his might and refuses to let go.
Awareness hits him then, like a blow to the face.
The voice in the back of his head is real, and it really does belong to a little girl.
A frightened, hurting, little girl.
Lorelai. The name rings in Tony’s mind and somehow he knows it’s right, knows it’s her name.
Tony pushes deeper, grabs the connection and throws himself down the length of it.
And then suddenly, between one breath and the next, Tony k n o w s …
Lorelai is eight and she watched aliens pour from the sky from a bus window, on the way back from the doctors with a bright green cast on her arm.
Lorelai is eight and she thinks Iron Man looks like an angel.
Lorelai is eight and her daddy hurts her.
Lorelai is eight and she is scared and everything hurts and all she wants is for Iron Man to save her.
Lorelai is eight and she prays, every night, that Iron Man will come.
Lorelai is eight and she still has faith.
Tony rips himself out of the connection, face wet with tears and a sob choking the air from his chest. He stays there for a while, collapsed on the floor, arms curled around himself as he tries to process everything he’s just learned.
Everything he now knows.
Everything he’s just been reminded of.
It hurts, the memory of Howard’s cruelty. Tony isn’t even going to bother to pretend otherwise.
But the sense impression of the girl’s fresh pain and fear is a far greater sort of agony than wounds decades old now.
It aches but when Tony can breath again, when he feels like he’s firmly back in his own body again, he pushes himself up onto his feet, and goes for the armor.
Because Tony is Iron Man.
And there’s a little girl, Lorelai, a believer, whose prayers have gone unanswered for far too long.
~~~
Half an hour later finds Tony’s outside Lorelai's house, settled beside her on the back step of the ambulance Tony had JARVIS call for him a few minutes after he arrived.
Her mother, a hollow eyed woman who is, to Tony’s eyes, barely more than a girl herself, is talking to the police a few steps away, an ignored cigarette held between fingers that shake.
JARVIS should already be looking for better housing for the both of them as well as a few domestic violence outreach programs to introduce them to.
Lorelai herself is still wrapped in Tony’s arms, tear stained face buried in his t-shirt as she holds onto him like she’ll never let go.
His phone ringing in the pocket of his jeans jolts him out of the quiet Italian lullaby he’s been humming under his breath as he pets the girl's hair.
He digs the phone out of his pocket with one hand and blinks in surprise at the sight of Steve’s name on the id.
It’s Wednesday, Steve never calls on a Wednesday.
“Steve?” Tony practically barks when he answers the call. “Are you alright? What’s wrong? Do I need to come get you?”
“Tony!” There’s something like amusement and relief in Steve’s voice then. “Tony calm down. I’m alright. I promise.”
“It’s Wednesday,” Tony can’t help but say. “You never call on Wednesdays.”
“I just …” Steve takes a deep breath that echos over the phone, “this is gonna sound … I don’t want you to think I’m … strange.”
“Oh we’re all about the strange here,” Tony dismisses his worry even as he curls his arm around Lorelai’s shoulder and brings her closer to his chest. “So just come on out with it big guy.”
“I just,” Steve hesitates and Tony can practically hear him gathering his courage, “I just felt like you might need me? Like something was happening and I should, I should be there. With you? If that makes any sense.”
Tony swears he stops breathing for a split second.
“Tony?” Steve’s voice is soft then, hesitant and just a bit embarrassed. “It’s weird right? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have … I’m gonna just go okay?”
“No!” Tony practically yelps. “No, no, Steve it … it’s fine. It’s good. I’m ah … I’m actually in a bit of a situations here actually. Nothing urgent or dangerous just … important. So yeah, there’s that. Just, wasn’t expecting you to have …”
Tony trails off because he, for once, has no idea what to say.
He can’t tell Steve about the fledgling bond between them, the one that’s growing stronger by the day but still hasn’t been completely anchored yet. The bond that Tony knows Steve can’t see or feel exactly the same way he can even if something had pressed him to call Tony right now.
Steve’s not awake yet, hasn’t completed his awakening like Thor told Tony he would.
There’s a good chance that Steve wouldn’t believe him even if Tony told him the truth. They’ve gotten close over their calls but the years and history and trust that had led Rhodey to accepting Tony, to believing him, aren’t there.
And that thought is enough to make Tony ache.
“Me to have what?” Steve asks. “Tony? What’s going on? Do you need me? Do I need to come back?”
The urgency in Steve’s voice snaps him back to the present.
“Everything’s alright,” Tony hurries to reassure him. “And no, don’t come back. I mean, unless you want to. But don’t cut your trip short on my account. I’ve got it handled here. Promise.”
“You sure?” Steve sounds more than a bit skeptical.
“Hundred percent.” Tony tells him.
“Alright.” Steve finally sighs. “Just … the phone works both ways you know? You call me if you need me too. I’ll pick up. No matter what, day or night. And if you need me back in New York, just say the word.”
“Aw Cap,” Tony teases lightly, “aren’t you just a sweetheart, all worried over little ol’ me. You trying to be my knight in shining leather?”
“Well you said most of that first,” Steve shoots back unexpectedly, “but I guess you are pretty enough to be a princess.”
Tony blinks, mouth dropped just a bit open in surprise, and then he tilts his head back and laughs.
On his lap Lorelia blinks up at him, a small smile blooming across her face like his sudden burst of joy is contagious.
And in that moment Tony’s pretty sure he falls a little deeper into actual love.
And in his chest a single crimson bond thickens just a bit more.