Chapter Text
Steve was sweating, but he didn’t dare move to wipe the sweat off his forehead. It stung as it rolled into his eyes, but, considering that he’d come within a hair’s breadth of being discovered, it was nothing compared to what could’ve been happening right now. He was good, but not even Captain America was capable of fighting off three hundred Hydra agents all by himself.
It was sheer luck that he’d stumbled across the warehouse of Hydra uniforms and had been able to appropriate one for himself. Putting the shirt on and seeing the Hydra symbol emblazoned on his chest made his skin crawl. He wanted to burn the uniform and then take the hottest shower his skin could stand so that he could scrub himself clean. He’d been dreaming about that from the moment he’d figured out that this mission was gonna take a little longer than Fury thought it would.
He eyed the control room he needed to get into while maintaining the illusion of patrolling. Hydra didn’t employ idiots, unfortunately. He had a sharp-eyed sergeant watching the squad’s every move. How he hadn’t figured out that Steve was a stranger was beyond Steve, but he wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. He kept his head down and did as little work as possible while pretending he was putting all his effort into it.
The sergeant barked out orders in German. Steve knew the language well enough to realize that their patrolling shift had ended. He fell into line and finally lifted his head, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. It was uncomfortably warm in the hallway they’d been told to guard. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, eyeing the room he needed to get into. After approximately twenty-four hours, he thought he knew the best time to make that happen.
Someone jostled his shoulder hard as he walked into the break room. He didn’t look up – he’d been wearing his hat low and not looking anyone in the eyes – but they pushed him again, harder. Annoyed, he risked a glance up and nearly choked on his own saliva when he saw Natasha’s eyes staring back at him. She had dark hair tucked up under the kind of cap the cleaners wore, but it was unmistakably her.
In the span of seconds, Steve felt like they were able to communicate several things: he knew that Natasha was here because Tony had been worried, and she knew that he hadn’t been able to get the data yet. Steve pushed her back under the guise of standing up for himself and, in the process, slipped her the flash drive Fury had given him. All they had to do was plug it in and wait thirty seconds.
Natasha took the flash drive and put her hand against his stomach: two fingers, pause, then her thumb pointing east. Then, expression haughty, she stalked out of the room. Steve made a rude gesture at her back and then settled in amongst the rest of his squad, pretending to leaf through one of the magazines sitting on the table. It held no interest for him; now that Natasha was here, things were going to move quicky. She’d have more freedom in moving around the building wearing a cleaner’s uniform, and she was also smaller and stealthier than Steve.
He waited the two hours and then slipped away while they were patrolling yet another hallway under the guise of needing the washroom. He did visit the bathroom, but not for the toilet. There was a window in the woman’s bathroom just big enough for Steve to squeeze out of. He jogged over to the warehouse where he’d first stolen the Hydra uniform and found his own and the shield, still hidden under a mountain of dirty laundry.
He headed east then, as Natasha had indicated, scaling the wall and leaping down on the other side at the same place where he’d initially entered the base. It was one of two blind spots where the cameras didn’t reach. He was relieved to shed the Hydra uniform – even setting aside the Hydra connotations, the uniform was damned itchy - and leave it behind in some bushes, swapping his Captain America uniform for it.
“That looks better,” Natasha said behind him, voice low with laughter. Steve turned, still tugging his uniform up his hips. She was standing behind him wearing her Black Widow outfit, hair red again. She must have been wearing a wig.
“I thought I’d never get out,” Steve admitted. “They came within a hair of catching me, and once I was disguised I didn’t have a chance to do anything. Their agents are watched at all times. Who knew Hydra had trust issues?” He slid his arms into his suit. “I was going to make a move on the data tonight.”
“No need,” she said, flashing him the drive before sliding it into a pocket. “We got what SHIELD wanted and no one is the wiser. Let’s get out of here.”
“Gladly,” Steve muttered. The fresh air felt delightful after the stifling heat. He left his cowl down and enjoyed the cool breeze on his hot face.
They didn’t speak again until they were in the quinjet and Natasha had lifted them off, setting a course for Avengers Tower in New York. Then Natasha said, almost casually, “SHIELD has no idea that I’m here. Phil sent me after we found out that the Winter Soldier had last been seen in this area.”
The bottom dropped out of Steve’s stomach. “Bucky’s here?”
“74% confirmation as of twenty-nine hours ago,” she said, watching him out of the corner of her eye.
Part of Steve wanted to demand that she stop. He wanted to borrow her cell phone – his own had been lost while he was dodging Hydra agents, and was probably either still at the bottom of that stream or well on its way into a river by now – and look up the data for himself. The familiar rush of adrenaline that always hit when Bucky’s name was mentioned struck hard.
But with it was a sense of resignation, of having missed out, and that tempered the adrenaline somewhat. Bucky rarely stayed in one place for more than twelve hours. He was constantly on the move. If he was still around, it would only be until the Hydra base was destroyed: that was a big if. More likely, Bucky had realized the base didn’t have what he was looking for and had moved on long before Steve infiltrated.
Besides, he’d told Tony that he would only go searching for a 75% confirmation. 74% was close enough, but Steve had given his word. He would have to check in with Tony, see what Tony thought before –
His thoughts stopped. Something very close to dread crawled up his spine. “That’s where Tony thinks I was.”
Natasha blinked, returning her gaze to the window. “I didn’t talk to him. But yes, I would guess.”
“Fuck,” Steve swore. “Natasha, can I borrow your phone? I need to call him right now.”
His head spun as he took Natasha’s phone and retreated to the back of the plane for some semblance of privacy. He couldn’t blame Tony for jumping to that conclusion. There was a time when that would have been true, and Steve wouldn’t have thought twice about running after Bucky once a mission finished. He might not even have thought to alert Tony and the others that he was doing it. Natasha had told him once that he had tunnel vision when it came to Bucky, and she wasn’t wrong.
The thought of Tony spending the last day thinking that Steve had chosen Bucky yet again made him dial Tony’s number as quickly as he could. He waited, listening to the sound of it ringing, and his heart sank when Tony didn’t pick up. Tony always carried his cell phone with him – unless he was in his headspace. When that happened, Tony’s phone tended to be left behind. On a hunch, he called Phil instead.
“Hello? Natasha?”
“Phil,” Steve said, immeasurably grateful that Phil had picked up.
“Steve,” Phil breathed. “You’re okay.”
“I’m fine. How’s Tony?”
“… Not great,” Phil said after a noticeable pause. Steve squeezed his eyes shut, feeling sick.
“Oh god. Please tell him I’m on my way home and that I’ll be there soon. I didn’t go after Bucky.” He gave Phil a quick rundown of what had happened, leading off with the fact that the mission had been successful and that he now knew the outline of that particular Hydra base like the back of his hand. Phil listened to the report in silence, which wasn’t unusual.
“You successfully retrieved the data?” he asked at the end.
“Natasha did. I actually didn’t do anything but freak Tony out, apparently,” Steve said, trying to sound lighthearted but knowing he only sounded bitter.
“Yes, he’s sleeping now. I had to rock him for quite a while before he dozed off. I’m going to let him sleep rather than wake him up. I’m not sure he’ll believe me if I tell him that you’re coming back.” Phil cleared his throat. “You guys need to talk, Steve.”
“I know. I know we do.” Steve wanted to say more, but he couldn’t when Natasha was so close. Tony had trust issues that ran miles deep. No one respected that more than Steve. But Tony also needed to believe him when Steve said that he was or wasn’t going to do something. They both needed to work hard on this aspect of their relationship: the nature of their jobs meant that unpredictable things happened frequently.
He said his goodbye to Phil and then went to shower, grateful that Tony had decided the quinjet needed one. There wasn’t nearly enough hot water for all the scrubbing Steve wanted to do, but it was a start. He felt slightly more human by the time he sat down next to Natasha, hair still wet, and took one of the sandwiches she’d dug out of the gear box.
“You know Tony has trust issues,” Natasha said. “And you’ve got communication issues. You two need to find a way to work around that.”
“It’s not that easy,” Steve said through a mouthful of sandwich.
She smiled. “But that’s why it’s worth it, right?”
She wasn’t wrong. Steve smiled back, polished off four more sandwiches, and then put his feet up and tried to sleep. It came to him with unexpected ease, but maybe that wasn’t so surprising: he’d been awake for more than fifty hours by this point, not having been comfortable enough to sleep in the middle of the Hydra base. He’d been too sure that someone would discover his identity if he did.
He slept until the quinjet touched down at the tower. Natasha waved him off, telling him that she would take care of getting the data to Fury. Steve hugged her in thanks before bounding down the steps and heading for the elevator as fast as he could. JARVIS greeted him politely and took the elevator up to Phil’s floor without having to be asked.
The doors swept open to reveal darkened rooms. Suddenly, Steve realized that it was after 3am. Phil, Clint and Tony were probably all asleep. He crept silently through the kitchen and down the hallway, finding his way to the guest room with ease. Tony and Clint were sharing the bed, while it looked like Phil had fallen asleep in the rocking chair while watching over them.
Steve tiptoed in and gently picked Tony up from the bed, shutting the door behind them as they left. He walked back out to the living room and sat on the couch, setting Tony in his lap, whispering, “Tony, sweetheart, wake up. I’m home.”
It took a moment for Tony to stir, eyelashes fluttering. He squinted up at Steve, mouth pinched like he was trying to decide whether to cry or yell, before memory swept over him. His eyes widened. “Steve?!”
“Hey,” Steve said, smiling. He wasn’t dealing with his baby, at least not right now. That was perfectly fine. He cupped Tony’s face and kissed him, sighing. It felt like coming home.
Tony kissed him back hard, then broke the kiss to hiss, “Where the hell have you been?”
“With Hydra,” Steve replied. “I didn’t even know Bucky was there, Tony. I swear.”
The tips of Tony’s ears reddened. “Steve, I –”
“And I get why you would’ve thought that,” Steve went on. “I’m not angry. Really, I’m not. 74% chance, I probably would’ve thought the same thing if our positions were reversed. I just need you to know that I would never leave you on the edge like that. Even if it was a 99% chance that it was Bucky, I would find some way to contact you and let you know what was going on.”
“You didn’t, though,” Tony said.
“My phone is in a river,” Steve admitted. “And there was nowhere in the base that I thought I could send a message without being caught.”
“A river? What?”
“It’s a long story. The point is, I really couldn’t get word out to you. I’ll tell you the whole story tomorrow, but I was undercover. And I’m sorry for scaring you.”
Tony was quiet for a moment, just breathing and thinking. Then he whispered, “I’m sorry for thinking you were with Bucky. I was worried when you didn’t come home or reach out. I think I latched onto the one explanation that didn’t mean you might’ve been taken prisoner, or were lying in a ditch somewhere.”
Steve nodded. That made sense. He kissed Tony again and murmured, “So long as you know that I really do know better than that now. I’m trying hard to remember that I don’t exist in a bubble.”
“I’ll try harder to trust you,” Tony said softly. From anyone else, that might not have meant much. From Tony, it meant everything. Steve hugged him, momentarily unable to speak, until he felt like he could answer without his voice cracking.
“I love you. I know we have to talk a lot more. But right now, I’d really like to spend some time with my baby,” he said. It wasn’t a lie, and it wasn’t just because he could tell that Tony needed to be little too. Spending time with little Tony always made Steve feel more relaxed and safe, especially when he was this on edge. He couldn’t fathom sleeping much tonight otherwise.
“I can do that,” Tony said, leaning into Steve. He tucked his thumb into his mouth and shut his eyes. Steve rubbed his back and felt more than saw some of the tension draining out of Tony’s body.
He also noticed that Tony was wet, probably having peed in his sleep without realizing it. It was just like him to not say anything. Steve rolled his eyes, more amused than anything, and stood up. Tony’s diaper bag was sitting beside the couch. He laid Tony out on the couch with the plastic changing mat beneath him and took off the soiled diaper, replacing it with a new one.
The routine was soothing for both of them. By the time Steve had finished he was calmer and less jittery, and he could tell that Tony had slipped fully into his headspace. He cleaned up and washed his hands, then returned to the couch and peeked over the back. A sleepy baby blinked up at him. Tony stretched one hand up in Steve’s direction, fingers opening and closing slowly. Steve took his hand, giving it a light squeeze.
“Hi you,” he whispered. “Want a bottle before we go back to bed? I bet you didn’t eat much of your supper.”
Tony babbled something unintelligible, mostly lost in his thumb. He must’ve been feeling really little to go non-verbal. Steve smiled fondly, that same overwhelming swell of affection flooding through him again, and shifted around the end of the couch to pick Tony up. He’d never get over how strong and proud he felt when Tony curled into him, free hand gripping the front of Steve’s sweatshirt, completely trusting.
“I love you, baby boy,” he said, kissing the top of Tony’s head. Tony yawned in response, nuzzling his cheek into Steve’s throat like a sleepy kitten. Steve smiled and carried him into the kitchen to get that bottle.