"You said to call if I ever needed you." Tony looks confused, like it never even crossed his mind. His head tilts in such a way that it leads Steve's eyes to the cluttered living room.

And Steve looks, and he sees. Really, really sees.

He sees a white lab coat stain with a mysterious green stain that looks suspiciously like Bruce Banner's thrown across the couch.

He sees a ROLEX box with a yellow post-it note stuck onto it, 'maybe now you won't mis our date!' signed Pepper in happy, flourished handwriting.

He sees a new-looking bag with a few scruffy textbooks spilling out. Forgotten homework with Tony's distinctive drawl splashed across the page fluttering onto the carpet.

He sees the distinctive Spider-Man mask and web shooters webbed to the ceiling. A piece of paper with provisioned changes is stuck to the sticky material.

He sees a half-drunk coffee cup sitting on the coffee table with 'Hapi' terribly spelled across it.

He sees a wheelchair, tucked away in the corner, only for when Rhodey's tired or Tony's taking the braces in for a update.

He sees a stack of movies on the TV cabinet, Star Wars, Star Trek, and more notably a few disney movies, even a barbie CD. Another post-it note is stuck onto that one, a kiddish, 'Mr Stark! I'm not a baby!" with comically-sized exclamation marks.

He sees a row of picture frames along the mantel:

A boy with a bright smile and nervous demeanor holding a trophy, a science fair lay out behind him.

Pepper and Tony at some sort of Gala, the former holding a full wine glass and the other empty-handed.

Tony and Happy at a boxing ring, arms slung around each others shoulders and grinning.

The same boy, Tony and Bruce working side by side in Tony's lab. Bruce, dropping liquid into a test tube, Tony fiddling with an Iron-Man gauntlet, and the boy, leant over a open workbook, the only one looking at the camera.

And Steve sees that Tony Stark never really needed him.

But he always needed Tony Stark.