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."

The way his shoulders sag just a little once Steve touches his face is nearly immediate. He's begun to rely on Steve almost too much for comfort since getting together- like a normal person should. Their relationship isn't normal by regular bounds, but there are things in it that are, that Tony cherishes and appreciates. Steve is his home, something Steve very handily reminds him is true in reverse. They've built something here that Tony doesn't necessarily want to demolish he just...

Doesn't also want to be let down. He wants to protect himself. Figures this is the "easier" ending for the two of them. Even if, as Steve stands there with Tony in his grasp, their gazes matched and unyielding, it feels like this is the worst possible thing to be doing in the moment. But Tony's rarely ever there. He's always sprinting ahead. Trying to figure out where it's all going. And he doesn't like the possibility of an outcome that will destroy them. If that's the case, why not just rip the bandaid off now?

But...

Steve's practically begging him not to do this. Will they be in this position, reversed, in a few weeks? Tony begging him not to take away his home? Their future? It's possible. It's a very real possibility that Tony wasn't keen to ignore. That he was going to let guide him through their separation right now but he really can't. Not with Steve so close, looking at him like that, telling him he doesn't want to be alone. How can Tony fight that?

"I love you," he exhales it almost painfully. If he didn't it would make all of this easier. If they were still working acquaintances at an arm's distance from each other, maybe even if they were merely friends. But now? Now he has to put Steve before himself. No matter where that ends up. Steve's picking him now, he might not later. Tony is helpless to do the same.

His hands slip from their perch at Steve's shoulders, sliding just a little down against Steve's chest. "One day... one day you won't have to be the one trying to talk sense into me. I don't know when that is, but one day. Probably." Joking again to ease the restlessness he feels squirming inside of him. Trying to regain some semblance of control. Of himself. "Gives you something to look forward to."

He still can't seem to unstick himself from Steve so a little obviously he asks, "If I tell you I need some time with this, there's no chance in hell you're leaving me alone, is there?" He's not sure he wants that either, really. He doesn't know what he wants yet but he knows giving himself some time to really absorb all of this instead of feeling it will give him clarity. The part of him that's used to dealing with everything on his own wants to take off. Run. And maybe not come back. But. The other part. That's used to having a home and a partner in Steve just wants to melt into him and let him be there for him. It's a struggle.

He feels like he did something right. Did the right thing for once, instead of the thing that causes the most destruction. He's not really good at picking the correct course of action in the seconds something is happening but usually he ends up at the right conclusion if he keeps working. His emotions are roiling right now and if it had been anyone else, if it had been in any earlier stage of their relationship, he already knows he would've severed the tie between them and left on his own.

But he can't. More importantly he can't do that to Steve. Maybe the revelation is a little startling. When Steve cranes in, when he smiles, no matter how small or apprehensive, Tony finally feels like he picked the right thing. Which should be obvious, shouldn't it? Because he's picking Steve.

"You're gonna have to work around me- I'm not used to- ...this," he says in all its painful honesty. "Okay? We're over the part where I try to ruin everything. Now we're into the part where I feel antsy." Which is a subsection of also trying to ruin everything. But hey, if he acknowledges he knows he's this way, it can't all be that bad, right? That's what he's going with for now.

"And that includes ditching. Saw right through that one." Steve knows him too well. The inclination to take off is very strong. "I don't even know that I necessarily want to be alone," he continues, rambling now because there's too much mess upstairs and he hasn't had time to sort through it all. He's frustrated and angry and confused and has about a million hypothetical tabs open in his brain. "It's a little late in the day to start reconn work on Fury. I guess I could put out some feelers for Hill. But I-"

He practically runs out of air, petering off and then taking a deep breath in through his nose. His problem is he doesn't know what he wants or how to abate this tangle of feelings without his usual methods. Which are, roughly, self-isolation and ruin. "At the risk of sounding like an insane person after spending a half hour telling you to go, I'm gonna do another one-eighty back around and say I'd feel better, too. If we stayed together." He is a crazy person. Oh well. At least he's trying to be as honest as possible. Even if that does leave him feeling exposed.

Starting to get everything prepped will stop the wheels from churning so hard in his mind, and it does settle him a little more when Steve offers to make the first reach out. If Natasha can't get a hold of them they'll go to Hill next. If she can't, Tony will do it on his own. Or maybe they'll bypass him entirely and go through the ruins of what was the SHIELD building at the Triskelion. If not there, there's several other hubs and-

And, and, and. Maybe he's not so settled after all. Already jumping to the next thing, nodding numbly all the while to Steve's offer.

He tries to shake himself free but it's difficult, even on a good day. Today is assuredly not one of those. Though he does let out a slow, amused tinged breathy noise when Steve mentions ordering in. "I was thinking about that. Before you came home early." Before everything got ruined. Might still be ruined. He's not sure there's any salvaging this evening. But it certainly won't get better if he keeps stewing.

The problem is he can't help it. There's so many things they need to do. He needs to do. All while trying to honor his promise to not slip away and try to carry on by himself. Do this himself. "Felt like a night for ordering in. Wanted you all to myself. Little did I know..." Trying. Trying so hard to come back into his usual self, if only to put Steve a little more at ease.

He shakes his head and then finally relinquishes his hands from Steve and steps back. Already there's a void created the moment he does. But the last thing he wants to do now is appear needy. Even when he is even on a normal night. "Just tell me what you want. Good Italian? Bad pizza? Chinese? Thai? Standard Americana fare?" Talking just to fill space more than anything.

As soon as Steve gives him an indication of what he wants- better yet a direct place- Tony pulls out his own phone so he can start working up an order. "So, enough pasta to feed an army?" Teasing him just lightly where it would feel nice to fall into their usual cadence. He's feeling highly out of sorts and it at least gives him something to do. Something to put his immediate focus on. Ordering food is a small thing but it'll at least get them on the road to somewhere.

That is at least until Steve offers him his phone to look at. It's a small gesture. Incredibly small, and he doesn't even have to do it. He could just tell Tony he asked and Tony would believe him, regardless of anything that just happened. But Steve offers anyway and that too soothes Tony's nerves if only a little. It might also be no secret that he can't help himself, scrolls up a little because he's just nosey, until another text comes in.

Her asking why. Something he stares at for a little longer than he means to. Very suddenly he's handing Steve back his phone. In a rush, "I don't know what to tell her, but not this. Not yet. Please." Not that he has to beg Steve for anything but some part of him is very quickly feeling a clawing desperation. There's nothing he can do about this yet, is there? So no one else should know. Except maybe he could. There's no guidebook to how to handle a situation like this.

What does one do when they're alerted their parents death was actually a murder? Should he put out a statement? Does he alert the company? He doesn't have any family left, not like that, so there's no one personal that should be told. Maybe Rhodey...

It's all such a mess and before he realizes it for what it is, he feels that black pit of grief and sadness slam into him full force. "I don't want- I don't want to keep secrets from the team, about what we're doing, if we do it. I just- I don't know what to say about it yet." He tries to steady his expression, school it into something neutral, but as he goes back to his own phone to try and go through and order food, his eyes, ever open and expressive, give just about everything away. The menu eventually fades into as much background noise as the rest of it and he's left staring at his phone.

He doesn't know what to do yet, but he always figures it out. This time won't be any different, right?

He's so in his own head and miles away that Steve reaching for his phone gets no notice. But taking it snaps him back to. A noise of annoyance is quick to clutch at the back of his throat, but it quickly dies into just an airy exhale when Steve pulls him in. The urge to resist is high, not because he doesn't want it or doesn't need it, he does. So very badly. Something he realizes the moment he's enclosed so thoroughly. But the thought of looking so fallen, so weak, that Steve knows what to do is about as warming as it is frustrating and embarrassing.

He's not a kid anymore. He hasn't been for a long time. He's been an adult longer than he'd been in childhood. Grieving his parents' deaths like they're fresh doesn't seem right. He doesn't want to. Yet he feels helpless. Driven by emotions far beyond his control. Things he can't sort through right now. He doesn't want to appear this way in front of Steve but it's a little too late for that.

Anger would've been easier. He should've stayed in that mode.

Now, after absorbing enough shock and thinking through it enough to know that reeling out of Steve's arms isn't the best move- not even for Steve's benefit but his own- he allows himself to just have it. In what he assures himself is just a selfish need rather than seeking comfort. Even though that's exactly what it is. He lays his head at Steve's shoulder, arms winding low around him, hands traveling up the length of his back before catching in his shirt and grasping there.

If there's anything he doesn't want to deal with right now it's this. And it's why through one painful gulp of air and the next he jokes, "Sorry. I'm not usually this much of a mess." As if throughout the entirety of his life he's been anything but. He soaks Steve in so thoroughly, even though his face is hidden at Steve's shoulder he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

And right into his shoulder without moving or letting go he offers, "We should order. You said you were hungry." They should, so he can get into the process of cleaning himself up and shutting all this off. Work. Anything. Just not this. But he doesn't move away. Not sure yet that he can while Steve's offering so much. He feels pathetic, but they're already there. It's already too late. He'll do damage control later, not really understanding that that's not something that's expected of him when they're this far into their relationship. This should be normal but for him it's just anything but.

"You said you were hungry," Tony says this rather than I don't want to grieve. Or maybe that he shouldn't. Or trying to just get out that this happened when he was a kid. Almost twenty-five years ago. Isn't that long enough to get his head right about it? Even if this is presenting it in a new light, he feels like he doesn't get to have this. That he shouldn't. And, more importantly, that he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to be doing any of this.

That's why when Steve picks him up he both grabs tighter to him while also telling him some muffled message of don't. Mixed signals that get ignored regardless, even by himself. He presses his head into Steve's shoulder tighter, now more in shame than anything else. He can't believe he's doing this right now. In front of Steve of all people. It's embarrassing. It's terrible.

It's kind of what he needs. But Tony's the last person to give himself anything. He just definitely doesn't deserve this, does he? Steve in his entirety. Weren't they just fighting? Wasn't Tony just trying to put a knife between them to slow the flow of blood while he felt like it was inevitable, that their relationship right in that moment was taking its last few breaths? Yet there he is. Steve fucking Rogers.

Trying to make everything right. Refusing to budge. Infuriating and stubborn and...

"I don't wanna do this," he murmurs after a long moment once Steve's settled them on the couch. The words fall against the side of Steve's neck, more breath than sound. Tony wills himself to carve out a hole, to get all of this mess away from himself. Because he's not sure he can go into the field like this. There's no getting through it in one night, even if he weeps right now into Steve's shoulder. He's not even sure he's capable of it, really.

So he tries instead to contain it all, box it up and shove it back into the dark corner it came from. Even still, he stays in his spot, hands resting against Steve's chest, head in the crook of his shoulder. "I can't do this right now. When we're done. Maybe. Not right now." He feels like if he lets this all go now it'll weaken everything else and the further they go, the more truth they get, the more people they put down, it'll only make it impossible. He'll be a liability in the field, in a much different way than he usually is. And especially if Steve's coming with, he can't do that.

Finally, he decides, he knows exactly what he needs. "I need a drink." Something he's gotten much better with in recent years. But that doesn't stop the call for it in moments like this. Like the only thing that'll smooth out his edges so he can continue operating. Yes. He needs a very stiff drink.