Steve is close to half his age and yet the way he barks at him reduces Tony to a toddler. The inventor is entirely taken aback as he blinks up at the blue eyed Captain and he finds himself suitably cowed. There’s still a lot of pent up rage inside of him, but now is not the time to let it out. Tony has never been good at properly venting himself, but his melt downs are very rarely public. And when they are, they’re destructive. He can’t afford to channel that energy towards Steve right now, but he can’t just let this all go either.
Swallowing down emotion, Tony sets his jaw with a look on his face as if it’s physically painfully to do so. “I have a lot of things to say to you, Rogers.” Steve isn’t the only one that gets to formalize interactions with friends, former and current, by reducing them to family names. “And you have a lot to answer for.” As if Tony Stark isn’t solely responsible for attempting to back Steve into a corner to protect the damage he himself did to the world by spreading the blame. “But you’re right. You are here, now, and someone has to keep the peace while I figure out how to reverse time without a god damned Time Stone.”
Strange traded his ace for Tony’s life and then stupidly died before giving Tony the answers he needed to save the day. Steve is no annoying wizard, but he’ll do in a pinch.
“So if I need a fucking minute to get my head on straight, you’re going to give me a fucking minute.” There’s no apologizing for his language today. “Whatever is left of the world is going to give me a fucking minute too.” A little steam is let out of the valve on the lid of Tony’s pressure cooker and the mechanic can feel himself breathe again. “The half of the world that’s alive doesn’t need to be saved. It’s the guy you put first and the kid you tried to squish— It’s all of the friends and family and lovers that need us. You’re going to have to stand in for Banner until he gets back.”
God help them all.
Tony strides away from Steve to pour himself something to drink and chat to his AI like she’s as alive as Steve is. “What’s the status on the global sat network?”
“A few have been bumped out of orbit, Boss, but most of the grid is up.”
“Start compiling that list of casualties Captain Rogers hasn’t gotten around to doing yet,” Tony responds. It’s not fair, but he’s still reasonably certain that biting remarks to the guy that didn’t pick him for kickball because his 1940s best friend turned up alive is warranted in this and every situation. “And deploy the relief foundation. Start with New York.”
“We don’t have the resources for more than a handful of major global cities, Boss,” FRIDAY responds, and while Tony knows that, he’s not fond of the answer.
“Start with New York,” he repeats, finishing what’s left of the glass he’d poured for himself before he turns back to Steve and looks at him a bit too thoughtfully. “I need you to turn down the dials on your morality a little bit here, Cap, and think towards the greater good here. Can you do that? I need a Spock and not a Kirk right now.”
no subject
Swallowing down emotion, Tony sets his jaw with a look on his face as if it’s physically painfully to do so. “I have a lot of things to say to you, Rogers.” Steve isn’t the only one that gets to formalize interactions with friends, former and current, by reducing them to family names. “And you have a lot to answer for.” As if Tony Stark isn’t solely responsible for attempting to back Steve into a corner to protect the damage he himself did to the world by spreading the blame. “But you’re right. You are here, now, and someone has to keep the peace while I figure out how to reverse time without a god damned Time Stone.”
Strange traded his ace for Tony’s life and then stupidly died before giving Tony the answers he needed to save the day. Steve is no annoying wizard, but he’ll do in a pinch.
“So if I need a fucking minute to get my head on straight, you’re going to give me a fucking minute.” There’s no apologizing for his language today. “Whatever is left of the world is going to give me a fucking minute too.” A little steam is let out of the valve on the lid of Tony’s pressure cooker and the mechanic can feel himself breathe again. “The half of the world that’s alive doesn’t need to be saved. It’s the guy you put first and the kid you tried to squish— It’s all of the friends and family and lovers that need us. You’re going to have to stand in for Banner until he gets back.”
God help them all.
Tony strides away from Steve to pour himself something to drink and chat to his AI like she’s as alive as Steve is. “What’s the status on the global sat network?”
“A few have been bumped out of orbit, Boss, but most of the grid is up.”
“Start compiling that list of casualties Captain Rogers hasn’t gotten around to doing yet,” Tony responds. It’s not fair, but he’s still reasonably certain that biting remarks to the guy that didn’t pick him for kickball because his 1940s best friend turned up alive is warranted in this and every situation. “And deploy the relief foundation. Start with New York.”
“We don’t have the resources for more than a handful of major global cities, Boss,” FRIDAY responds, and while Tony knows that, he’s not fond of the answer.
“Start with New York,” he repeats, finishing what’s left of the glass he’d poured for himself before he turns back to Steve and looks at him a bit too thoughtfully. “I need you to turn down the dials on your morality a little bit here, Cap, and think towards the greater good here. Can you do that? I need a Spock and not a Kirk right now.”