“I would have missed me too, if I had to spend time away from me,” Tony replies with the humor that Steve had been expecting. Tony can only be in Dad Mode, something he’d honed with Parker during their small interactions over the last year or so, for so long. Trying to give pep talks to an all too optimistic and talented and stubborn and enthusiastic teenager had been trying but a little trial and error did give Tony some insight into how to deal with a stubborn kid.
Like Steve Rogers... and that crazy depression he’s battling. Yeah. Tony doesn’t need any more evidence to decide that’s the case. The wild blue fire in his eyes had been doused, and that tells him everything. Couple it with the mournful singing on the deck of the Raft, the constant pausing and far away looks, and the small verbal flinching he gives paints a very somber picture.
Steve is broken.
Tony gets that. He’s broken too.
Turning back around, Tony taps in a code to check on FRIDAY’s progress, both in the journey back to New York and with the global population profile she’s building. His words are quiet, voice softer than most people get to hear when he’s not being a sarcastic, bullshitting asshole.
“Don’t make me miss you, Cap.” It’s subtle. If Steve doesn’t pick up on Tony trying to tell him that he’s vibing on the suicidal thread shooting through their interactions, that’s all right.
no subject
“I would have missed me too, if I had to spend time away from me,” Tony replies with the humor that Steve had been expecting. Tony can only be in Dad Mode, something he’d honed with Parker during their small interactions over the last year or so, for so long. Trying to give pep talks to an all too optimistic and talented and stubborn and enthusiastic teenager had been trying but a little trial and error did give Tony some insight into how to deal with a stubborn kid.
Like Steve Rogers... and that crazy depression he’s battling. Yeah. Tony doesn’t need any more evidence to decide that’s the case. The wild blue fire in his eyes had been doused, and that tells him everything. Couple it with the mournful singing on the deck of the Raft, the constant pausing and far away looks, and the small verbal flinching he gives paints a very somber picture.
Steve is broken.
Tony gets that. He’s broken too.
Turning back around, Tony taps in a code to check on FRIDAY’s progress, both in the journey back to New York and with the global population profile she’s building. His words are quiet, voice softer than most people get to hear when he’s not being a sarcastic, bullshitting asshole.
“Don’t make me miss you, Cap.” It’s subtle. If Steve doesn’t pick up on Tony trying to tell him that he’s vibing on the suicidal thread shooting through their interactions, that’s all right.