Tony's life, very recently, has been on a rocket-propelled trajectory and on any given day it's hard to predict where it's all going. That didn't used to be a problem for him, when he was aloof and far less serious about everything. Not even that was that long ago. Even still... there's a clear line of demarcation between old Tony and the second his convoy got blown up in Afghanistan. Ever since then he's been running frantically. Much more so with every passing event.

It's why if he was asked if he had time to settle, he would've said no. Which is kind of how he got into a large mess with Pepper. The woman whom he thought he'd loved- still very much does, no need to lie to himself about it. He'd pursued her a little relentlessly after all that and somehow she'd agreed. Yet he'd found every single way to fuck it all up. Because no. No he can't settle. Not in the ways she wants him to. It's unfortunate. It was gut wrenching. The fight hadn't been nasty, really, but it had been devastating all the same. To know that he was never going to be the person she needed him to be. But. That was that. They split.

He nursed the heartbreak and was sure that was it, unless she changed her mind. That she'd perhaps like to keep living the glossy lie that being with him was. Knowing he'd always be on-call. Would always pick the world over her, because he has to. Knowing that he has demons he can't outrun some days. That he can't put work down. All things he has lied to her about before, saying he'd try or that he'll get better. But he won't. That was why he was sure he was destined for the job and the job alone. He'd had fun for a long extended period of time. Fourteen to about thirty-seven. Good long run. Case closed.

That was until Steve actually reciprocated interest. A little thing. Tony, flirting with people because it makes him feel better. Because it makes him feel in control, something he desperately needed after Pepper had split. But... truly, and someone must have noticed, he did it with Steve more than anyone else. First to get a reaction, then a rise, then because it got comfortable. A little too comfortable. And then one day there Steve was. Just... reciprocating. Who was Tony to back off then? A stronger man might've but that's not Tony at all.

So they fell in line. Fell in love. There's a safety in Steve that Tony desperately needed. Because Steve gets the job. Steve would never ask him to put away the suit just like Tony would never ask him to put down the shield. Having someone understand him the way Steve does has been so freeing. Has made it that much easier to fall so deep in love with him that... suddenly there's a future. Suddenly there's talks of moving in together and apartment tours and real estate agents.

It's ridiculous and amazing and all he's known for sure since they started seeing each other is he only ever wants more. And he'll do whatever it takes to make that happen. To protect this thing they have. And Steve, too. Though Steve doesn't need his protection, and sometimes that only makes Tony want to protect him all the more.

They close on a very high high-rise. A two-floor penthouse with floor to ceiling windows that gets a lot of light. A private elevator that he's worked on to enable FRIDAY in so that nobody uses it or tries to get onto their floor, whether he got permission to actually retool the elevator or not. In a building with high security and other big name clientele which provides understood privacy. Nobody bothers them. They're working on renovations and decorations and furniture and things Tony just never thought he'd get to have after the falling apart of roughly his entire life, twice over now even if different compartments of it. It's... nice.

He's spent a dedicated amount of time on the space that's his workshop/lab. Of course. So that's almost finished. He's just finished fitting the entrance of it with his usual security protocols that all his labs have. Fingerprint and access code entry of the utmost importance.

They have dinner plans tonight though he's thinking of just asking Steve if he'd rather order in. Not in the least of which is just so he can keep Steve to himself and so they don't have to travel very far from the kitchen to the bedroom. Or any other nearby surface. He's in the middle of thinking about that and a hundred other things, on his hands and knees on the floor with a few of the panels pulled up as he works on rewiring some of the space. He has his usual obnoxious rock music on, accompanied by his own complaining about this and that and FRIDAY's soft sass whenever he asks her for something. He's not expecting company right now.

Tony, as always, in his own world so much and so sure no one could possibly be around to interrupt him, doesn't even hear Steve come in. Certainly not through the elevator, and not into the lab, either. Overly focused and with his back turned as he's kneeling, when Steve calls to him he stills completely and glances over his shoulder with a mild look of surprise. It's not exactly startled, but something just short.

Still, the expression of surprise eases quickly into a warm smile, one he seems to be wearing more often these days. Especially when Steve is in his very immediate vicinity. But that, too, changes, when he takes stock of the entire situation. The smile vanishes into something neutral before the telltale signs of apprehension plaster all over his face.

Steve's back early. Steve wants his attention.
Steve has folders.

Tony's gotten a bit of a distaste for the dreaded manila folders. Autopsy reports, expense accounts, mission briefs and debriefs, collateral damage reports, needs-your-attention-immediately messages- they all always seemed to arrive in these folders. Something's wrong. Immediately his mind breaks out in a sprint towards several destinations. He tells FRIDAY to quit the music while he's standing, wiping his hands off on a cloth he takes from his back pocket.

Just as quickly he's trying to seem completely fine. Unfazed. It's Steve, though, so he's not sure how much that'll work. "What- did the interior decorator send you some stuff you just had to rush over to me?" Joking, because that's easy, and that's what he does when he's feeling out of sorts. Or upset. Or anything. It also gives him more time to dig a mental hole over whatever the hell is going on. He bridges the gap between them, coming to stop a foot or so in front of Steve as he glances up at him. "I've got time," he finally answers what Steve actually had asked him. And then his eyes drop to those folders. "Depending."

Tony holds himself steady, eyes closing halfway. Soaking Steve's presence in. That gentle affection. Whatever this is it's probably not great. Whatever part of him that's able to appreciates that Steve's trying to break whatever bad news with a little softness right before. But the rest of him wants to just tell him to get it over with. What could be so terrible? They have to go out into the field? Did Steve bring him a brief?

Or-

His focus centers solely on Steve, leveling that bright, intense gaze right at him, listening very intently. Hydra base. Okay. So maybe something Steve needs him to dig into. Maybe something he needs him to check up on or- or- anything. Really he wished it was anything else.

Steve hits him with a one-two punch. Effective. Not going to like it is something he's sure he can temper expectations on until Howard's name comes up. That's really all it takes. Tony closes off entirely, arms folding tight to his chest and he shakes his head, looking the other way. Anywhere. Anywhere but Steve and those god damn folders. Even offered he seems to want nothing to do with them. Makes no attempt to take them.

"Whatever dirty secrets he had, I think it's better off just leaving them with him," he says this a little more coldly than he means to. But honestly. With the way his heartrate has rabbited up and the cool drip of anxiety and adrenaline, he just doesn't want to deal with whatever it is. And yet, "What is it- you're gonna tell me he was dealing under the table to them? Was part of them?" Because that's what it is, right? Obi and he got along pretty well. Must've been some reason for that. And if it's not that then it is what it always is.

Someone they thought they knew turns out to be Hydra scum. Someone Tony trusted turns out to be awful. Big surprise. The only problem with that is Tony doesn't like Howard. He keeps a lot of that to himself when he can, but he doesn't care for him about as much as Howard didn't care for him. A mutual dislike that festered and grew through his formative years. But even then. ...if he was Hydra? Tony's not sure he wants to hear it. That's a step too far.

There's a sudden franticness as he holds out a hand, almost like he's going to stop Steve from continuing. "If that's what it is- really- just. Leave it alone. I mean sure. Burn him if you have to. Someone probably should know. But. Not me."

Steve slices through some of it. He's always been good at that. A little too good. It gives Tony time to reconsider and stop letting his brain run wildly. So no. It's not that. And Tony believes him. His hand wavers and then drops, eyes drifting down to those offered folders. Okay. Not that. Not Hydra. Well that's something- and sure- makes sense logically when he gets out of all the other messy affairs he ran to first. But-

The next four words out of Steve's mouth silence the rest of the room. Suffocate him just a little. They make him feel like all the walls just closed in. Howard's death. His parents died together and while he's not his dad's biggest fan, some small stupid part of him will always love Howard. The part of him that ached to be loved in return. That wanted to be accepted and cherished rather than looked down on and told he wasn't enough. But Maria also died in the car with him that night.

And it's not something he wants to revisit.

His eyes slide up from the folders to Steve's. Holds his gaze while he tries to figure out what he's supposed to be feeling. Then they drop right back down when Steve continues. His parents died in a car crash that had always seemed a little suspect to him but he was a dumb grieving kid so what did he know? In some ways he's never gotten beyond that. Mostly because he's done everything humanly possible to avoid working through their deaths. It was so long ago yet now it feels like the police just showed up on his doorstep.

He swallows tightly, lips pressed in a thin, tight line and reaches out to take hold of what's being offered to him finally with a hand he tries to keep steady. "Not gonna like it was a terrible underestimation on your part, I imagine." Another joke, and not one that he sounds sure of. His voice is going out while he's grappling with keeping it steady.

Already he knows. Hydra was responsible for his parents dying. How much more obvious could that be? He doesn't need to read the files to know that. But he does need to read them. Every inch of paper, every line. Because he needs to know. That's why he takes them and turns away, going to one of the tables to open them all up. Spread them all out. He holds himself steady, both hands splayed as he braces himself above the worktop. Reading it all. Sprinting through each page and then reading again. His shoulders hunch up, holding himself and wound so tight that his muscles tremble a little.

"Jarvis wouldn't let me- he wouldn't take me to the-" He's talking to himself but barely even hears it. So used to just having someone there to hear him. Even if it's just his AI. They didn't take Tony to the crime scene right away. Never let him look at the car. Probably because he would've put it together. "SHIELD knew." This, too, he says to no one in particular, even with how darkly it ejects from him. He always suspected. Never confirmed. Howard had been transporting a last ditch effort of his recreation of the super soldier serum to the Pentagon. He'd done that with Maria in the car. Knowing the risks.

They'd died because of him. Because he was careless. Because he put her at risk. Tony had been mad at him when it had just been rumors of black ice and Howard being inebriated, but this?

Who? Who is paired with Howard for this? Who brought them down because Howard couldn't put work aside for one fucking second and take an actual vacation with his wife- never mind that Tony wasn't invited- and... no matter how he'd felt dejected about that at the time, is he supposed to feel better knowing he would've been murdered, too? The answer to who jumps right out at him the second he looks for it. His fingers scratch the top of the lab table as the curl inwards and he heaves a sharp exhale from his lungs. "Oh."

Yeah. Oh.

"You're sorry," it exits out of him in a bitter rush. He doesn't mean for it to, but it does. He swallows hard again, almost like he's trying to bite back bile. It's all heat and anger and he doesn't know what to do with it. Where to put it. Steve's the only one here. Steve's the one giving him this news. He doesn't want to be the person he is, but he is. And this is one of the reasons. These files. Right in front of him.

Worse yet there's grief. Decades old grief at this point that he's buried in an attempt to keep it from ruining him like it had the first time he'd been delivered this news when he was a kid. Stupid. So stupid. He should've pressed harder. Done more. Anything.

He doesn't look up at Steve yet, not sure what's lurking in his gaze. He feels a fresh wetness there that he doesn't want looked at. He doesn't want to be pitied for this. Not by the one person who would actually stand a chance at helping him-

Speaking of. He shakes his head, eyes going up and around in a roll and then finally he distances himself from those folders as he practically shoves himself away from the table. It's then that he sets fire in Steve's direction. "Right. Not just because god forbid- right? I somehow find out?" After all these years, really, there's a chance he wouldn't have ever known. If Steve had destroyed the files, what then? He could have. Had every chance to do it.

But that's logical. He's not feeling much of that at present. "Because you don't want me to go after him, right? That's the real reason." That's what it always is. Two people and he's never- never- the winner. Ever. No one ever picks him when it comes down to it. Not his father, not Obi, not Pepper- nobody. They take him for what he's worth, use what he'll give them, and then they go. Always.

Why should Steve Rogers be any different? He should have been. One day Tony will learn to keep well enough alone. To himself. One day. "You want me to go on some wild goose chase with you to keep away from him, like it'll make any of this better." Someone signed orders to kill his parents. Hydra did it, Bucky carried them out, SHIELD hid it. Monsters all the way down. "Go on. Go back in the field. Go find him. You did what you came here to do."

The second Steve makes a move towards him he backs up, suddenly feeling like a caged animal. Which is absurd. This is his lab- but their place. What a mess. Could he even tell Steve to leave? Even if he had authority to do so, he knows he could never make him. But that's all he wants to do. All he wants Steve to do the very second he confirms that Tony's right. Not that that's a surprise. He usually is.

In a moment like this he wished Steve was someone else. Anyone else. Someone who might've lied to him. Instead of Steve Rogers. And his perpetual honesty. Even the brutal kind. The kind that pierces like a bullet, and Tony quickly folds his arms again. Defensive. Protective.

And when Steve reaches out he shies away from that too in one quick jarring move. A sharp shift back of his shoulder and then a few paces away. "Well, you should." Trying to shut it all down. Himself the most. This was inevitable, wasn't it? This was the way it was always going to be. "You should go back out there and find him before I do," darkly stated. Threateningly. "Because then you'll really have to choose. And I already got the sneak peek on that one. So. If you could do me one last kindness and spare me a repeat. That's all I ask."

It's worse than fighting. When he turns, gaze absent from Steve's own, he's shutting him off. Out. Making the quick and all too simple judgement that Steve just shouldn't be worth his time anymore. And that's worse than fighting. If he got in Steve's face, if they argued, they'd work it through. They always do. But he doesn't want that. Knows he's too weak. He'll crumble the second Steve starts in on him. They'll fall into it the way they always do. The way they always have. He tells himself not to do it. To just be angry and hurt. On his own. He's better off that way. A lesson he should've learned far sooner than now. Maybe one day he'll get through to himself.

In those next few moments Tony already envisions how this will go. It becomes very clear. When Steve doesn't give chase to him, back him against something, argue with him- when he just sits... it all feels wrong. He half turns, glancing at him. Willing him- wanting him to fight. Because if they fight this will get resolved. Maybe they're ridiculous like that, but that's one of the things he loves about them.

And that's why he knows.

Steve points out the obvious, the little ghost whisper that Tony had had before banishing it. Yes. Steve could've destroyed everything. He didn't even have to bring him this at all. But, as Tony had said, he ran the risk of him finding out anyway. Even so.

He sees himself almost as a visitor in his own body. He sees the way he's doing what he always does. Breaking everything because he's hurt. Just destroying it and trying to close himself off in a last ditch effort to try and salvage himself. When he's doing all the damage. But-

"He killed my parents," the single sentence slips out of him when he doesn't know what else to do in a bitter yet overwhelmingly somber tone. Almost barely without any voice. More talking to himself than he is looking to incite Steve. His head ducks for a moment. He doesn't want this. How is he supposed to cope with grief he's never processed and deal with the fact that this is yet another lie told to him by people who were supposed to look out for him. How is he supposed to process the fact that his parents didn't die. They were killed. What is he supposed to do with that?

SHIELD covered this up, like they do everything. It's too bad they're gone. He wonders if Fury knew, too. Some friend of Howard he proclaimed to be. Peggy. ...did Jarvis know? Everyone. Everyone who was supposed to look out for him, failing him as usual. But.

Not Steve. Despite the risks involved bringing it to him he did anyway. According to him, the second he found it. Even knowing... even knowing what Tony's like. Probably knowing it would lead here. He still feels incredibly raw, in a way that only makes him want to push Steve out more. He doesn't want to deal with this, much less be seen with the damage it's causing to him. It makes him feel weak and unwieldy. Yet he turns, one step and then another in an almost shambling pace towards Steve, arms still tucked tight across his chest.

"Thank you," the two words are terribly quiet, sniffing a breath in afterwards. "He was- Howard was transporting that stuff for SHIELD. They knew. They covered it up." Just talking because he has to. "So. If you've got a line on Fury I'd like to know. Seems like we're overdue for a friendly chat." He has to put this ugliness somewhere. Someone has to pay for this. He has to fix this. Maria at least can't have died for nothing- just because her selfish, stupid husband couldn't put work down, couldn't get over himself for-

God. He and Howard really are the same person, aren't they? A realization he's been biting back for decades slamming into him like a ton of bricks. Visibly- like he's been hit as he turns away from Steve again with another shake of his head. It all needs to go somewhere. Now.

Half turned from him, Tony holds himself tight and steady when Steve reaches out. His adrenaline is rushing, heart still hammering in his chest. He feels tightly coiled and ready- needing to strike somewhere. Do something. He'll let that all carry him through whatever he's about to do. And that's the really important part. He knows he has to use every ounce of this to propel him into...

Whatever it is. He has no idea what a normal person is supposed to do with information like this. Just let it go? But he hasn't been normal a single day in his life. He needs to make a plan but his mind is rushing. Fury seems like a safe start, along with going over what barebones are left over in the files Steve brought-

But then there Steve is. Doing what he does best. Guiding. Coming up with the next set of moves so that he can get this done, whatever it is. However it ends. Except it's not just him. He turns a little more towards Steve, arms still crossed. He wants, almost needs, so badly to be comforted. To let himself have it. What Steve's so easily offering. Some part of him always going to be that grief-stricken sad little kid that's looking for someone's approval. That's why he bites it all back. It's weak. He can't focus on all that.

Focusing on the heat of anger should be easier. That's what he should do. "I had JARVIS comb through everything once the leaks came out. He would've brought that to my attention." Tony, who has an urgency to know things that could be relevant. He's sure this isn't a surprise to hear. He exhales a soft snort with a shake of his head. "Everyone else lied, but I built JARVIS." Therefore, the only person technically who doesn't lie to Tony is. Well. Tony. Only able to rely on himself. "If it was there he would've told me." But this almost sounds like he's trying to convince himself.

Arms still crossed, Steve in his immediate space, he finally glances upwards, not sure what's visible in his own gaze. Not that it matters. Steve, at this point, may as well know him front to back. Always calls him out on everything and then some. "Just. Next time you bring me the worst news I've heard in my life, could you bring me chocolate, or something? At least don't just sit there when I'm walking away from you." Joking and middling between trying to rekindle a fight simply because he just doesn't know what to do. And that's probably the worst thing that can happen to him.

"Really?" He asks this with a note of shocked disbelief. Steve, who had all the time in the world to plan on the ride home, something he must have been doing in spades, didn't plan for that? But it's that that makes Tony realize Steve didn't come into this prepared for them to break over it. Yet that had been Tony's first inclination. To just get away from him and-

Well. He hadn't gotten that far, had he?

And that must be the reason, even when Steve reels him in further, he's still holding himself. Arms still crossed, eyes drifting from Steve's. But he lets him do it. Because part of him wants it. Needs it so desperately. He's just hesitant. Because what if they're not done? What if they still get into it? What if this is too much for them to get around? Because while starting out with seedlings at SHIELD is a fine plan it's still-

...Steve would still pick Bucky. He's sure of it. If he and Bucky got into it, Steve would pick him. And why shouldn't he? Tony doesn't have that much to offer Steve. Doesn't compare in that way. Can't. And that's- ...it is what it is. What it always is.

He doesn't push him away, but he doesn't sink into him, either. Just standing there rigidly. "I have to do this." Resolved to that much, staring at the floor while Steve's so close, so warm and solid and right there and if he were any more of a complete or honest person he'd just wrap his arms around him and allow himself this one thing. But he can't. "You should go back to your search. Who knows. Maybe we'll meet in the middle." He can't because that's where they're headed. And better for him, for both of them now, to see this for what it is. What Tony's at least telling himself it is. In every effort to protect himself because at the end of the day, as time has always shown him, he's the only one he can rely on.

It makes him feel guilty. Makes him feel like he's doing the wrong things. Not that that's new. But he's not sure else how he's supposed to be operating. Before he saw a vast field of opportunities for them, things he had since stopped dreaming for himself. A life and a partner. Steve fit the bill in almost every single way, better than Tony could have ever imagined. And certainly more than he's ever deserved. This much he's very aware of. But now?

He doesn't know what to do with himself. Part of him so desperately wants to give in. Let Steve's optimism and planning carry the two of them through this- but where does it end up? If them pursuing this together just leads them to ruin anyway, why not just- ...why not just walk away now?

It's just that he's weak. Steve's one of the very few people who know just how much. The cracks in the armor, the extended days of being unwell. Might as well be his whole life now. From problems that date too far back to fix at this point. One of them central to him still just standing there holding his arms across his chest while Steve's trying to pull him in. One that still just lives and breathes ugliness inside of him day in and day out no matter how quiet it gets. And it's that exact one that gets a sharp single-note bark of a laugh out of him.

"Yeah well. He always liked you better, anyway." He never stopped looking for Steve, even if his search efforts slowed and petered off the older he got and the more responsibility he was supposed to have. Steve Rogers, who was practically Howard's greatest creation. Except. You know. He had a son. A son who could never live up to all that. Only posthumously did he try to correct that and Tony's still trying to figure out how he's supposed to feel about that. This- this right now is not what he needs.

Yet maybe by the end of it he'll have some release. Some solace. His parents were murdered. That's a fact that's hard enough to contend with on its own. One of them he didn't get along with at all and- some nights he thinks about their last conversation. More than he'd ever admit. It's making all of this harder than it has to be. Making him feel vulnerable. Raw. Exposed. In front of someone who already knows him back to front, mostly. And even still he just wants it to stop. "You wanna help me do what, exactly? Pull me off the path of your pal." Which sounds to Tony like a distraction. "I just need-"

He needs to do something about this. He needs to act. Needs to put all of this somewhere and make someone pay. Make it right. Even if there's no secret love lost between him and his dad, and that's something he'll work out later, his mom didn't deserve this. And everyone responsible for it should face some consequence. Howard included. Though there's little he can do about that now. He's holding himself so tightly his muscles ache, a slight tremble in his shoulders. "I need to see this all the way through. I don't think you can do that with me."

If he had let himself walk away, it might have been easier. Severing the connection from halfway across the room would have been just a little easier even if it would have killed him, even if he'd have been stewing about it for months. Losing himself down a rabbit hole of grief and anger, no doubt. Like this, with Steve's hands on him, so close, and the way he he's looking at him-

He feels that need. To just fold himself into Steve's arms, rest his head at his shoulder. Let him devise a plan that makes all of this make sense. Let Steve lead the two of them into the field and they'll work through this together. But he refrains. It's because he wants it so badly, because he wants to hang on to this life that they're still building around each other, that he doesn't want to be as weak as they both must know he is. Because he is.

Steve did everything right. Tony also has to reconcile with that. As his partner, not necessarily Bucky's friend, Steve did everything right. He found information in the field, damning information, that he could have hid or destroyed or altered, damn the consequences later. But Steve's too decent a person for that. He brought it to Tony no matter how it played out. And even still he's trying his hardest while Tony's just...

He heaves a sigh from somewhere deep in his lungs, eyes closing for a moment, head tilting forward in a slight hang. Is there ever going to be a point where their lives aren't beset by such ridiculous complications constantly? Probably not.

After a moment his gaze lifts to Steve's, finally. There's so much fog surrounding him. He wants to run. Not face this right now and just get to work. "And if we're not? Because I'm trying to let you do it right now. Make the choice. If it comes down to it later, it'll be worse." If they go on this mission together and at the end of it they find the Winter Soldier and Tony hasn't gotten what he feels like he needs out of this, what then? Steve will pick. And Tony's confident it won't be him. He knows. He's no one's first choice. Aside that, he and Steve are only just starting. Even if the love is unfathomably deep, so much so that it's a momentous task to ask Steve to just let him go even now, he and Bucky have too much history for it to be Tony that gets the consideration.

It just won't happen. In that he knows he's not trying to spare Steve. He's selfishly trying to help himself. What else is new. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a grin, even as his brows draw together, casting a perfectly bittersweet expression across his face. "I wouldn't pick me, either. No hard feelings, okay?" Everything will be okay if he just shelters inside himself, puts the walls up. Makes a joke out of it. The best way he knows to keep himself safe. "Promise I won't hold it against you for the rest of our lives."

"Hard?" Asked almost a little incredulously, the heat in him rising just a little. "This isn't a fight in Ikea over mismatching dish patterns or a forgotten birthday. Our problems are a little above and beyond that." They aren't a normal couple. They never will be. Neither of them entered into this knowing that, most likely. But that was what Tony needed in someone else. What he sought out in Steve. That he didn't have to fit into a normal box- because he didn't. And he couldn't.

Facing Steve like this, so close, it's a little more than he wants to deal with right now. Especially when he's trying to give Steve a shove so that he'll be the stronger of the two of them. He always is. It's never Tony. It's why when he starts getting agitated it riles something in Tony, too. And when his hands clamp down momentarily Tony feels that heightened spark he always gets around Steve. But more than that he sees what Steve's trying to do. The thing that Tony mused on not moments ago.

If they fight about this they'll probably figure it out. But Tony's not sure he wants that. If he's capable of handing the outcome of that, way down the line.

"Somehow building an element seemed a lot easier than this. Come on. This is a little too much mess for either of us. You're not stupid. I know you can see that. I'm trying to give you an out. Do the smart thing for once and take it." And there it is. They're going to fight. Pushing. Always pushing each other. It's like they can't help themselves. Even Tony knows he's a little addicted to it.

The way Steve stokes fire in him like no one else. It's why quickly- "Don't do this." Almost begging him. "No. You know me. I don't give up. I find a way around. This is it. This is the way around. We go out there together and you don't like the outcome and what then? You're asking me to put all that on hold just because everything might work out in the end? When does it ever?" Voice raising near the end, sharp now, too. Because it is what it always is. Falling into it with each other. The fact that he hasn't backed away, that he's ready to stay right in Steve's face, might be all the indicator necessary.

Because no. He doesn't want to walk away. He can't think of anything more terrible. Except it coming to blows at the end of all of this. That he might not survive. Maybe even literally.

There are still things Tony thinks they're vastly unprepared for. The wind-up to Ultron's creation had been specifically about those things. And to have Steve put his finger in that bruise gets a wince out of him. They always do this to each other. Know exactly where to hit. It drives him crazy. But...

He also loves it. Steve pushes him, cracks him, like nobody else ever has. And now, at the end of the day, at the end of all of that whether they're bickering or actually fighting, they also then get to come home to each other. It's an intoxicating thing and yes Tony wants to hold onto it with both hands and never let go. But he's not sure about this. Trying to preserve himself early where he sees an outcome that's going to destroy him either way.

"I'm not giving up, I'm offering both of us a kindness we're not gonna get once we go out there," he tries to argue back. Tries to stay squarely in the lane of merely incensed and not angry. But it's too easy to slip into, especially considering he is bucking off intense rage over the very new and raw news that his parents were murdered. It's too much right now and he wishes Steve were anyone else. Anyone else that would've folded, crumpled, given in. Agreed with Tony and walked away.

But he wouldn't, would he? Because he's Steve fucking Rogers. "I ask you to make the best choice for both of us and you can't even do that." He finally stops cocooning himself, arms unwinding so that he can put his hands on Steve's shoulders. They probably look ridiculous. He has no idea what the two of them are even doing anymore. He just...

"None of this is easy. And if you think that's where I'm coming at this from, I don't know where you've been the past few months. No. Of course I don't wanna walk away. But I don't wanna lose the version of you that-" The words die immediately, lips pressing together, head tilting down for a second. The version of Steve that he loves. The one that loves him back. Endlessly. And the one that would always pick him, where others wouldn't. Pick him first. And the irony isn't lost on him. That this is where he finds himself, after always picking Pepper second so often that it ruined their relationship.

Someone else might call it poetry. He steadies himself and tries again. "We go out there together, like this," he warns, eyes up again to take in Steve's gaze. "We won't come back the same. I know you're not stupid. Foolishly hopeful, maybe. Sure. And I love that about you, even when it's worn out its welcome. But not stupid."