Hey all! So, this story got a lot of positive feedback, and I felt the urge to write a piece in Steve's point of view. It's... well, I don't want to sabotage my work before y'all read it, but I think it is a bit weak. A bit boring. I like it enough to post it, but if y'all have issues with it, know that I do too. It's a bit of a different format, since I didn't want to just write the first chapter but with Steve's thoughts. That would be more boring, in my mind. So I just did an introspection, Steve thinking about his life following his decision, and then during the events of the first chapter. There's very little actual dialogue in this chapter, despite being over 8,000 words. I considered making it it's own story, but I'm too tired to do that. So hope at least some of y'all like it. I'd be open to constructive criticism, but I just ask you to be kind. I'm currently in Finals week, so I didn't have much time to edit this thing. -.-

Also, I just rewatched Iron Man and learned that Tony made his first circuit board at age 4, not robot. Ehhh, we'll hand wave that one. There's no saying that Tony couldn't have also built a robot at age 4. Like, a basic one. Baby's first robot. After all, what is a circuit board if not a primaries robot? … can y'all tell I'm a psychology major, not a hard science major?

Also, I do fudge with some canon, simply because I can't remember what is fanon and what is actually canon at this point. And my memory for a lot of the movies is faulty at best. So I apologize if I fudge some details. Let me know if there is anything truly bad or misinformed. Thanks!

One last thing! Sorry. But do know that, while this chapter is told in Steve's perspective, I'm a Tony girl through and through. So most of this story revolves around Tony, not Steve.

Enjoy!

One of the first things Steve had thought after seeing Peggy in the 70's was "there must be a way I can get back there."

It hadn't been a pressing thought, at first. It had just been a short, intrusive, deeply aching desire. Something he wanted, more than anything else, but was likely an impossibility. Who knew where this all would lead? Who knew where this time journey would end up? For all he knew, they all could die.

Well, that hadn't happened. Not everyone died. But Tony did. Brave, stupid, secretly kind Tony.

That still hurt. Thinking of Tony. Of his death. They had never really seen eye to eye. Apparently, Howard has never gotten over his supposed death and had spent most of Tony's childhood harping on and on about Captain America. Tony never outright told him, since Tony was probably the most secretive, hidden person he knew, but Steve knew that he never got over that underlying anger in his heart. And, in a way, Steve couldn't blame him. He'd never really known his father, but he had a feeling it would hurt something fierce if his dad had rejected him for someone else.

So no. They'd never seen eye to eye. Their relationship was poisoned from the outright, for Tony's prejudice against him, and his own prejudice against Tony. When they'd first met, he hadn't seen past Tony's armor. He'd just seen what Tony portrayed; an arrogant, careless man. Then he'd sacrificed his life to save everyone. For the first time. That had changed his mind.

But some things can never get fixed. Sometimes, first impressions last lifetimes. And even after learning of Tony's heart, they still could not get along. Tony disliked him; Steve couldn't believe in Tony's point of view… they were just two different people forced to spend time together. Like two teenagers forced to work on a project together, both on opposite sides of the highest tier of the social hierarchy. Strong personalities, leaders, but forced to butt heads. It never would have worked out.

Still, Steve liked to think of Tony as a friend. One of his best, had things ended differently. Had they not had Howard over their heads. Had they not had to fight. Had things been just a little different. He'd hated having to leave, after their little war, after Sokovia. He wished, more than anything, that they could have come to an agreement. That Tony could have seen that his anger at the Accords wasn't that they needed accountability, but because the Accords were worded in a way to completely control them. And from a government such as the U.S's? Steve had no confidence that they'd be used properly. He had no desire to be run by another Hydra. Learning S.H.I.E.L.D had been infiltrated by Hydra had kind of ruined him for being controlled by another organization. Not to mention the things America did in the war after he'd fallen in the ice…

Still, it had hurt him, hurting Tony. Especially since the worst offense wasn't even due to the Accords. It was his inability to tell him about what Bucky did. He had told himself it was to protect Tony, but in truth, it was just to protect himself. And Bucky. But not Tony. Not Tony. And he regretted that.

But what's done was done. He was a fugitive and his relationship with Tony was broken beyond repair. Especially after everything Tony had warned them about had come true, leaving them out numbered and out matched, causing them to lose. Tony had been right all along, and Steve hadn't taken heed. He'd been a bit naive, believing they could save the day, no matter what. Because the good guys always won, right?

Those five years were some of the hardest of his life. Even worse than becoming accustomed to life in the 21st century. It was made even worse knowing that Tony wouldn't even see him, that their relationship was truly broken beyond repair. He'd heard about Tony's daughter, and that had made things a little better. Knowing that the man who had been so afraid of turning into his father was able to find happiness with his family. Steve knew he'd be a wonderful father. He was a little rough around the edges, but he cared so deeply.

It hurt, ripping Tony from that. Taking him from his happiness. But… but if they had a chance to fix everything… they had to do it. Sometimes Steve hated being a pragmatist. After all, if anyone deserved a happy ending, it was Tony. But it was the way it was.

It hadn't surprised him in the least when Tony came to them, having solved their problem. He knew that Tony would never leave the world behind, even for his own happiness. In a way, Tony was also a pragmatist. He'd never be able to live with himself if he had a chance to save the world but had rejected it. In a way, he had counted on it. Yes, Bruce was smart, but he had nothing on Tony. No one did.

And that had led him to see Peggy. And a thought had formed, so quickly, it had almost winded him. Seeing her, seeing what he could have had…

Tony died. He hadn't watched, hadn't seen, but he'd known it had happened, when Thanos's forces had disappeared into dust. If there was one person who would sacrifice himself for the greater good, it was Tony.

After that, he had had no reason to stay. He wasn't sure what would have happened, had Tony lived, but the fact remained that, while dead, Steve had nothing really tying him to this time. Especially since Natasha had also died. Another blow, but more understandable. Less painful, in a way. That's what she was born for, like Steve. A soldier, through and through, dying in battle. Tony wasn't a soldier. He was a scientist, an inventor. This was never supposed to have been his fight, yet he had made it his fight.

And while he had his other friends, had Sam, and Bucky, and Bruce, and Clint, and everyone else he had met since coming to this time… he didn't belong here. He knew it. Hell, everyone probably knew it. He was a man out of time.

And so, after he had put back the time stones, after he had fixed (most of) the other timelines, he had had a choice.

He had spent hours staring at the miniature time machine on his wrist. Hours and hours just staring at it. He knew what he wanted. He knew how tired he was. Knew that, should he go back to the present, he wouldn't be able to fight anymore. He had done so much. Gone through so much. He was tired. Bone tired. He'd lost two of his best friends. He had to live with the fact that he had ripped Tony from his happy family and had to live with the fact that Tony would never get that back. He couldn't keep fighting.

If he went back, to the past… if he lived his life, with Peggy… he had a chance. To live. To be happy. To have what had been ripped from him, all those years ago, after diving into the ice.

Finally, hours and hours and hours later, he had made up his mind. They'd be fine without him. They had Carol. They had Dr. Strange. They had both Peters, and the Guardians of the Galaxy. They had the Hulk, and Hawkeye, and even Thor, should he find a way to live with his grief. They had Sam and Bucky. They would be fine without him. Without Tony, and Natasha. They'd be fine. But he wouldn't. If he returned only to keep fighting… no. He wouldn't be fine.

So he had made up his mind. And, before he could second guess himself, he made the jump.

And that was how he had found himself outside Peggy's house, 1957, smiling at the love of his life.

It had taken a while to explain what had happened. She hadn't cared, at first. She'd invited him in and kissed him, so sweetly. They'd shared their dance, finally. She hadn't asked any questions. Hadn't wanted to know. But Steve had to explain. To at least one person, he had to explain.

So he had. For hours he had told Peggy everything that had happened, from falling into the ice, to the Attack on New York, to the forming of the Avengers, to the dismantling of the Avengers, to Thanos. To Tony. To everything. She had listened to him, eyes dry, just listening. When he had finally finished, she had smiled at him, as a few tears fell. He understood. He had started crying when he'd talked about finding Bucky. And hadn't stopped since then.

But there was a major problem with going into the past to live, one he was now truly understanding. There was no way to fix things. No way to change the past. Tony had been very adamant about that. The past could not be changed. Steve wasn't sure he understood how time travel worked, but he understood that much. He couldn't change anything. And it was starting to hit him, that fact. He would have to watch as S.H.I.E.L.D was infiltrated by Hydra. He'd have to watch as the Avengers formed and broke up. Hell, he'd have to watch every war America had, knowing the outcome, and not be able to do anything. It was daunting.

But… but, looking at Peggy, seeing how happy she was to see him, knowing how happy he was to see her… it was worth it. Even knowing he couldn't do anything to help people. It was worth it.

The worst part was Bucky. He knew what his old friend was going through. He knew how he was being tortured. And yet, he could do nothing. Peggy had hugged him so tightly when he'd mentioned that, his eyes dry only because he had no more tears to cry.

But this was his life. This was what he should have had. He had returned to the point in time he would have existed in, 1957, when he'd have been 39-years-old had things gone the way they should have gone. And he'd just have to… well, not forget the future, but ignore it. Move past it. This was what he should have had, all along. The future would happen. It would always happen. And he'd have to pretend to be as oblivious as everyone else.

Peggy was a huge help. She'd helped him get a new identity. Helped him become someone new. They'd married pretty quick, so that he could take her name and not be as suspicious. He had chosen the name John, partially because it was the most generic name he could think of, but also as a brief nod to the future he still remembered (after all, Tony had told him to see the movie John Carter, another soldier forced out of his element and into a war he had no right to be in.)

He'd gotten a job for the government. It was ironic, he felt, but it let him do something good. Something right. He oversaw the military and made decisions for war. Even back in the past, he couldn't completely stay away from war. But maybe he could minimize the damage done in Vietnam and help with the Cold War. Maybe he could help, without completely giving himself away.

And he liked to think he did. He became a celebrated military hero. He saved lives.

And he had a couple kids. After his first child was born, a daughter, he understood just how much Tony had sacrificed by helping them fix the past. Just how much he had had to lose. Holding his daughter in his arms that first time… well, let's just say he finally understood. And he wasn't sure he'd have been so brave.

For a while, things were good. Not great. Not perfect. But good. He had a life. He had Peggy, and his children, and friends. No one knew he was Captain America. He stayed away from Howard and his fellow commandos, knowing they'd see through his disguise. He kept to himself, for the most part, and just lived out his life as John Carter, a man once out of time, but now put back in place.

It was hard, at times. Knowing the future. Knowing what would happen. Adjusting to the past was almost as hard as adjusting to the future had been. He hadn't even known how reliant he'd become on technology until he hadn't had it anymore. Google was a Godsend he had come to realize. But after a couple years, he had gotten used to it again. Even to the thought that he would just have to be an observer for much of history. He would have to toe the line, make little changes, at most. It was not what he was used to, the righteous man who did what was right, regardless of consequences, but after Thanos… after he had failed, after he had denied Tony and doomed the planet, he felt that maybe it was time to change his ways. Maybe it was time to toe the line and keep his head down. Maybe it was time to rest. As much as a man like him could rest, of course.

Then it was 1970. He had spent the whole year tense, afraid. He knew what was happening that year. He knew the events.

He still didn't understand time travel. If the timeline he was in was the same timeline as the one he'd left. If he'd changed too much. He tried to keep his actions as similar to what he'd read of Peggy's husband, when he'd looked the man up, but he didn't know for sure. But assuming this was the same time, he knew what was happening.

All in all, the year went by without any incident. The date that he and Tony had travelled to had come and past without incident. And he began to breathe easy again.

And then, then it had happened. Peggy had gotten a call from Howard, breathless, excited, saying that it was time. Peggy, sweet Peggy, has packed up and spent the night at the hospital, sitting by the side of her old friend, keeping him calm as his first, and only, child was born.

Steve had known it was coming. He'd read the announcement in the paper. Had heard from Peggy how excited and scared Howard was. Had known, on an intrinsic level what would happen that year.

But he had ignored it. Had pushed it aside. Had focused on what would happen with the future, had focused on the Cold War, had focused on anything but the birth of one of his dearest friends. Even if they'd never seen eye to eye. Even if they were polar opposites. They had been friends, once. Once.

The first time he had met baby Tony was a month after his birth. Steve was very careful to stay away from Howard, knowing how smart the man was and how desperate he was to find Steve. It did pain him, knowing that his old friend was looking for him, fruitlessly, but that was one thing he couldn't change. After all, a big part of Tony's life was that his father was so focused on Captain America. To change that…

It was just another thing he wanted to fix but couldn't. So he stayed away from Howard. But a month after Tony's birth, his father was called away on a business meeting. Maria, despite the fact she was still recovering from giving birth, had gone with him, leaving Tony with their butler, Edwin Jarvis. Steve had never met Jarvis before the ice (and Peggy swore the man was trustworthy and wouldn't tell his secret even if he found out), so when Peggy had begged him to come with her, to meet the infant version of his dear, dead friend, well… he couldn't say that he wasn't curious.

It had been similar to the time he'd met his daughter, meeting baby Tony. He'd been so tiny, so fragile. It was like Steve would break him if he held him. But he didn't. He held Tony, so small and fragile, in his strong arms, and felt at peace. Like something that had been broken in him had finally mended.

He knew this child's story. He knew the heartache and pain he would go through. He knew about his death. But he also knew his legacy. His power. His love and joy. He knew everything this child would face. He knew how his story would end. But at least he was here. Alive. Fresh and new, unknowing of the heartache he would one day face.

But he found that in that moment, Steve wanted more than anything to take this child and hide him away. To protect him from the future that he knew. To make sure he knew that he was loved. For, in that moment, Steve knew he loved this child. Not in a creepy way, but as he loved his own children.

Yet he couldn't. He knew what this child would face. The doubts that would fill him from a young age. The pain he'd feel, fighting for the love of a father who didn't know how to show his love. And that's how the world was supposed to go. Tony Stark had to face his demons. He had to go through that pain. It was his destiny.

When he'd gotten home that night, he'd cried. That peace he had felt, holding Tony, had broken at the realization of what that poor child would have to go through. It was the first personal case Steve had of how he couldn't change the past. Yes, he'd had instances of that with the wars he'd helped with, but this was the first that struck a personal note. He'd give anything to save Tony from his fate, but this was what Steve had to do, if he wanted his own peace. His own life.

Peggy had held him, as he cried. Shushed him. Told him it would all work out as it was meant to work out. That it was part of God's plan. Steve didn't even know if he believed in God anymore, but he listened to her, and hoped it was true. At least Tony would find happiness, eventually. He'd have Pepper, and Rhodes, and Happy, and Peter, and his daughter. He'd find some level of peace, in his life. That had to be something.

So life went on. Steve and Peggy would babysit Tony every so often, when he was too young to remember him. Steve would spend hours listening to baby Tony babble, smiling a bittersweet smile as he remembered his friend, who'd speak at breakneck speeds, needing to get every thought out of his head as fast as he could. Even at the age of fifteen months Tony was so smart. He could speak in almost full sentences, could even read basic books. By the time he was two, he was reading children's books made for eight-year-olds, and by the time he was three he was reading high school level books. He was so intelligent; Steve would just listen to him babble for hours. So much like his older self it wasn't even funny. It was actually very heartbreaking, but Steve did his best to keep that from Tony. He didn't want to be yet another adult who let Tony down.

When Tony was kidnapped when he was two and a half, Steve was almost beside himself with worry and anger. He'd never known about this, hadn't known that Tony had ever been kidnapped before Afghanistan. But then, there was precious little Steve knew about Tony's life as a child. He'd never really gotten to know Tony, when they were teammates. He regretted that so keenly, now. He regretted not being better friends with the man. He liked to think they'd have been great ones, had they had the chance. Had Steve given Tony the chance.

Regardless, he knew he had to find the boy. He didn't care if he ruined the timeline. If he changed too much. He'd lost Tony once. He couldn't lose him again. Not when he had so much to live for.

All in all, it had taken him a week to find the kidnappers. Part of him wasn't proud what he did to the men who had stupidly taken his friend, but the majority of him didn't care. Tony was important to him. Both older Tony and young Tony. He'd lost too much to lose anymore.

Of course, once Tony hit the age of three, Steve had to stop spending time with him. He could run the risk of changing the future, of having Tony remember him as an adult. But mostly, he was afraid he'd slip up. That he'd tell Tony about his future. Or that he'd change the future, by yelling at Howard for hurting his son. He was already feeling the beginnings of anger towards his old friend, knowing what Howard's parenting would do to Tony. He knew that Howard was a good man, that he was trying his best. But it still rankled, knowing what that child would go through at the hand of his old friend.

It was hard enough for Peggy, who knew of the future but had to keep up appearances. And she hadn't met adult Tony. Hadn't seen the hopeless look in his eyes. The heartache and the pain. She didn't see how Tony would look at him sometimes, with accusing, pained eyes, remembering what his father had done. It would be impossible for him to be around Tony and not want to sooth his heart any way he could. To make sure the boy knew that he had someone on his side.

So he stayed away. He watched over him from a distance, hearing stories from Peggy, who loved the boy almost as much as he did. He heard of the mischievous, brilliant child Tony Stark became. He saw his accomplishments and his achievements; heard of the robot he'd created at the tender age of four. Such a brilliant child, Steve knew. The alarm clock Tony had made them had been prominently displayed in their bedroom.

And in his little office, kept secret from everyone but his wife, a place not even his children were allowed to enter, he kept all of the things that Tony made and left at their house during his visits. All the little scraps he'd put together. All the blueprints and scribbles he created. There was even a little photo book that Steve kept, of Tony through the years, so he could remember the boy as he currently was.

Steve kept them all, heart aching, knowing that he'd have to be absent in Tony's life, but that Tony didn't have to be absent in his. Steve was getting old, now. Almost sixty. His children were almost adults. His youngest was 14, oldest was 16. Soon they'd leave the house and start lives of their own. Peggy's blood nephew would have a daughter soon, Sharon. That was a bit strange for Steve to realize, but he did his best to ignore it.

The fact was, he had lived a lot of his life. He wanted Tony to be part of it, in some way. Maybe then, he could find some of the forgiveness he was yearning for. Some way to forgive himself for ignoring Tony and then leading the man to his death, so soon after he had found true happiness.

Tony would get kidnapped again, at age eight, and Steve would fight tooth and nail to find him again. He sent Peggy to retrieve him, knowing that he couldn't see the boy. It would hurt so much. It would just make things worse, knowing what he knew, but unable to do anything about it.

Sometimes Peggy would beg him to see Tony. Tell him that Tony could use a strong male figure in his life, someone beside Jarvis to look up to. But that was exactly the reason he had to stay away. To his knowledge (which, admittedly, was limited when it came to Tony's young life), he didn't exist to Tony. Not in his timeline. Though… Tony had never mentioned Peggy, either. And Steve had a feeling that, even had he not come back, Peggy would have adored Tony all the same.

Still, he couldn't. He'd keep the boy safe, would protect him from physical harm, but he couldn't interact. Couldn't interfere. He hated it, but that's the way it had to be.

And then Tony was ten.

Peggy had told him about how distant Tony was becoming, with everyone. Maria had started to distance herself at Howard's request, claiming that Tony was becoming a man and needed to act like it. Another way that Steve was growing to hate his old friend, but he understood where Howard was coming from. He didn't mean to be cruel. It was just how the world worked, in his mind.

Steve's youngest had moved out earlier that year, having turned 18 and headed off to college. He had originally wanted to go into the military, like his mother and father, but Steve had convinced him to try medicine, to become a doctor. His eldest had gone the military route, and it pained him to see it, though he was very proud of her.

As it stood, Steve didn't have anything to really distract him. He had his job, the Cold War still ongoing, but as he knew how the war ended, it didn't seem as imperative to him as it should. And so, hearing about Tony and his distance, the child slowly becoming the man Steve knew… it took precedence in his life.

He watched over Tony from his distance. He had Peggy and Jarvis keep an eye on him. It hurt him, knowing that Tony was beginning to take on the heartache that would last the rest of his life, but there was nothing he could do.

It was mid-August when Tony came over for a week to visit. School was out, Howard and Maria had to go on a business trip, and Jarvis was busy taking care of his ailing wife. Tony had jumped at the chance to spend the week with his Aunt Peggy, even calling them up at five in the morning to get their opinion. Peggy had, of course, said yes. She adored Tony and missed having children in the house. While she was a military woman, she adored having children of her own to dote on.

That just meant that Steve would have to be "out of town" that week, but that was fine. He had a good excuse, that his work needed him. They didn't, really, but what Tony didn't know couldn't hurt him.

So he had kissed Peggy goodbye and had left for a hotel room. He made sure Peggy had the number of the hotel, in case something happened, and left it at that.

Two days later, at nine at night, he got a call at the hotel.

Steve answered it, heart clenched, hoping nothing had happened.

"John? Are you there?" Peggy asked, voice a bit shaky. It was never a good sign, when Peggy's voice shook.

"Peggy? What happened? And I'm alone. You can speak clearly," Steve replied, instantly worried. He still made sure to give her his signal, so she knew that she could talk to him plainly, without their codes or the false name he hated. He heard her sigh, full of upset.

"Oh, Steve. It's, it's nothing major. But there was an… incident, with Tony."

"An incident? Is he alright? Is anyone hurt? Peg-" Steve began, cutting Peggy off as his worry mounted. 'An incident' with Tony could go anywhere from a tantrum to something exploding. He truly was a vivacious child. Before he could get started, though, Peggy cut him off.

"No, no, nothing like that. No one is hurt. No explosions this time. I just… I think it's hitting him hard, these days. His parents are always on trips. The last time Howard was around longer than a week was… God, I honestly can't remember. /I've/ spent more time with Howard than Tony has. I've tried speaking to Howard, but, Steve, you remember what he's like. Won't listen to anyone about anything. I just… I fear for Tony."

Steve sighed, knowing this song. Peggy would talk to him about this every so often. How Tony wasn't doing well. How he needed someone, male, to look up to. Jarvis was great, but he could only do so much. And Peggy was a good role model, but she still couldn't replace a father's love.

But Steve knew this was how it was supposed to be. He couldn't interfere. He just… he couldn't.

Right?

"Peggy," Steve sighed, "you know that I can't do anything. This is just… this is how it's meant to be. I hate it. I do. But…"

And he did hate it. So much. Steve Rogers was a man of action. He saw something wrong in the world, so he did everything in his power to fix it. Consequences be damned. But this… this was too important to ruin. This was the fate of the entire universe. Tony Stark, like it or not, had a role to play. And Steve… like it or not, Steve couldn't change that. And, unfortunately, having a bad childhood was part of Tony Stark.

"I know Steve. I know. But he's just a boy. A lonely, heartbroken boy. I wish I could take his place. To fulfill his destiny for him. He's such a brilliant child. And I know I can't. But… maybe you could just meet him? Just once. Let him know you're out there. That you care. He needs that, Steve. He would love to meet you. You know he would."

Steve sighed again, heart breaking. Because he knew that Tony would. Peggy had told him about the questions Tony would have about her husband. His curiosity. But still…

"It's dangerous, Peggy. You know that."

"Yes, I know. I know. But he's just a boy! He needs someone, Steve. He needs you. It's dangerous, yes I know, but…"

"Peggy," Steve interrupted, feeling desperate. He didn't know what happened, but he could tell it had shaken his wife. More so than usual. What could he do? "I can't. That's the condition I willingly took when I came back here. When I chose to live out this life. I can't change things. You know that."

"Of course I know that, Steve! I've been living this for years, of course I know. But it would do him good. He was sneaking around the house today. He almost got into your office. One way or another, he's going to find something out. Steve, please. It would be best for him to hear this from you. Not me. Not from sneaking around. You don't even have to tell him anything about the future. Or who you are. Just… meet him. Give him something. Anything. Be better than his father."

And that hurt. Howard was Steve's friend, had helped make him into what he was today. But Steve would never forgive the man for what he'd unknowingly done to his son. What he was currently doing. What Steve couldn't fix. In the future, Steve hadn't really thought much about Howard. It had hurt, knowing the man had died, but it wasn't for a while before he'd learned about what kind of a father he had been.

Steve never would have pegged the man as a fatherly type. Learning he had a son had honestly surprised him. But he hadn't thought of it much past that. Over the years, during the times of peace between Tony and Steve, he had learned a little about the relationship Tony and Howard had had.

Steve remembered one time, a few months before Sokovia, after they had learned about Hydra but before things had fallen apart. During the few months that the team had actually been a /team/. He and Tony had been drinking. Alcohol did precious little to him, but it still had an effect on Tony in large quantities. And Tony had been drinking like a champ that night. It was Howard's birthday, Steve recalled.

Tony had been talking, like usual. Chattering on and on about nothing and everything. Steve had honestly been a bit annoyed, though he had done his best to appear to listen. He had a feeling Tony faced that a lot, which made his heart hurt, looking back. Still, it was after about half an hour of chatter that Tony had turned to him and grew very quiet. Quieter than he'd ever figured the man could be.

"You knew him. Yeah? Howard."

It was a statement. Not a question. Obviously, they knew one another, Howard helped make him. Humoring the other man, Steve had nodded.

"Yes. He was a good friend of mine, back in the day. I was sorry to hear about his death."

Tony snorted, taking another drink. His fifteenth of the night. Steve was starting to get concerned.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sometimes I am, too. I hated him for a long time, you know. Despised the man. And you, too. Hated you."

Steve had felt affronted at that. To his knowledge, he had done nothing to earn Tony's hatred. Luckily, Tony continued before he could interject with his affront.

"Yeah. But I can see it, you know? What dear old dad saw in you. Perfect Steve Rogers. Amazing Captain America. He never stopped looking for you, you know. He was gone most of my childhood, off in the Arctic, looking for that damned plane. Knew you were out there. Theorized that the serum might have saved your life, that you might still be alive. Guess the old man was right all along, eh?"

Tony poured himself another drink, his sixteenth, swaying. Steve had stood, then, and put a hand over his, stopping him. He tried not to think of what Tony had told him. He later found that it wasn't quite true. Howard would chase leads when they came up, but mostly had given up on Steve. But he supposed it didn't matter to Tony, much. Even once or twice was more attention than the man had paid Tony.

"Maybe you should stop, Tony. You've had enough."

But that was the wrong thing to say, apparently. Tony turned to him, anger in his eyes. But deeper, far deeper… Steve could detect pain.

"I'll tell you when I've had enough. And I, I'm not done. Howard. Oh, he always had a good thing to say about his precious Steve. Loved you, that man did. Sometimes I wonder just in what way, you know? Maybe Aunt Peggy would have had some competition, had you stayed, huh?" Tony had leered, anger in his eyes. He didn't try and drink, though. Steve had felt his jaw clench but said nothing. He'd faced enough angry men in his life to know that sometimes, it was best to just ride it out.

"But maybe not. Howard was always a man of secrets. Claimed I was his greatest creation. Or, something. Never knew that, when he was alive, but eh. What can you do? Would have thought that you were his greatest creation, but maybe the old man was feeling charitable that day. Who knows? Not fucking me, that's for sure."

Tony went for the alcohol again. Steve held him back, a pitying look in his eyes. Clearly, he was stuck in some bad memories.

"Maybe you should stop, Tony. It's getting late. Why don't I call Pepper and have her pick you up?"

"Ah! Pepper. Lovely Pepper. Love her, you know? Wonder if I'll turn into Howard one day. If we'll become like my parents. Mom loved Howard, once. No idea if she did at the end. Never got to say goodbye. To either of them. I wish I had. I wonder if I'll ever have a kid. Ha! Can you imagine that? I'd fuck that kid up so bad."

Tony started giggling at that, eyes shiny. He began to fall over, causing Steve to grab him and keep him upright. Steve had called Pepper after that, telling her to pick him up and that he was feeling a bit out of it. Pepper had just sighed, sounding so resigned, saying she'd be there soon.

The pair had sat in silence after that, Steve leading Tony to the sofa in the small apartment they were holed up in. Steve's, at the time. Steve wasn't sure how Tony had ended up at his place, or why. They'd never spent much time together, and most of it was at Tony's tower.

It was after ten minutes had passed, Pepper almost there according to a text, that Tony continued to speak.

"I wanted so bad to hate you, you know. Dad, he… he would speak of you so often. I thought he loved you more than me. I wanted to hate you for that. But it… it's not your fault, is it? That you're so… so… /fucking/ perfect. You can't help that. You remind me of my uncle, sometimes. Haven't seen him in years. Wonder how he is. Guess he finally saw me as I am. That's fine. Don't need him. I'm fine.

"Still. Gotta wonder. What he'd think of me now. I wonder if he'd be ashamed of me. I am, sometimes. No, that's a lie. I'm perfect. Why would I be ashamed? Heh. I wonder if we could ever be friend, huh, Steve? If we could ever be friends."

Steve had shifted awkwardly at that, as Tony turned his eyes, wide and bloodshot, onto him. Steve never knew how to talk to Tony. He wished he did.

"We are friends, Tony. We are."

Tony had snorted at that, letting out a peel of laughter.

"Ahh. Good one, Cap. Good one." A knock sounded at the door right then, drawing Tony's eyes to the door. "Ahh. Guess that's me. I'll see myself out. Don't, don't get up. I know the way. Tiny apartment, you know? I should get you a bigger one. Living legend like you, deserve a big apartment. Anyway, see you later, Cap. Ciao."

Tony had stood then and answered the door, opening his arms wide to a mildly disapproving Pepper. Steve had followed them out, making sure Tony was okay. Pepper had apologized for Tony, but Steve had waved her off. It wasn't a problem, really.

And it hadn't been. For all his faults, Steve had liked spending time with Tony. Sometimes. Maybe he should have done it more often.

"Steve? Steve, are you still there?"

The voice that came from the phone broke into his thoughts, drawing him back from the past. Or, the future. His past. This timeline's future.

"I, yeah. I'm here. Just… I'll think about it, okay, Peg? I just… I'll think about it."

After that they said goodbye and Steve hung up, sitting slowly on the chair the hotel provided.

He had failed Tony, once. He had considered them friends. Had thought they were close enough. But maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he'd never really been a friend to Tony. Maybe he hadn't been what the man had needed.

Maybe it was time to rectify that.

And so, despite his better judgement, he had found himself stood in front of his house at 11 am, keys clenched in his hand as he had second thoughts.

This was a bad idea. There was so much that could go wrong. To his knowledge, he was in the same timeline that he had existed in. He had no idea how any of this worked, but he knew that if he messed up, there could be consequences.

But… but, sometimes, Tony would mention an uncle. It was very infrequently, and only when he was drunk, like that night. He'd mention Aunt Peggy, and some nebulous uncle. Steve wouldn't listen, his heart too pained to hear about the love of his life's husband, but maybe… maybe…

So he jammed the key in the door before he could think on it clearly, turning the lock and opening the door.

He honestly should have expected what followed. Tony was always recklessly brave, a trait that he apparently had ever since childhood. The boy hadn't done any damage, had mostly startled Steve more than anything, but it had made his heart hurt so much to see the boy that would become the man he knew.

He'd seen pictures of Tony, but it had nothing on him in person, age ten, his face looking like a miniaturized version of the one he'd known for 12 years of his life. And his personality… God, the kid was practically a tiny Tony. He even had the same facial expressions.

Steve had almost broken down, seeing him. Instead, he had laughed. Laughed hard, harder than he could remember in months. Tony had been so affronted at that, doing his best to defend his aunt and her house.

Learning he'd been kidnapped for three days once had been sobering, though. He hadn't known that. He hadn't known that Tony had had to go through that, alone.

At least that had gotten him to stop his assault.

And then Tony hadn't trusted his identity, which was very Tony of him, causing some tears to form in his eyes. To rid the boy of his fears, he had shown the boy his license, then his wedding photo, knowing that a wedding photo was harder to alter. In the 80's, at least. He couldn't even resist the urge to bring up a reference that, for once, Tony wouldn't understand.

Then he'd shown the boy the one picture he kept on him of the two of them. It was his favorite, of the few he had. Peggy had taken it, when Tony was a year old, the two deep in "conversation." The baby had been chattering on and on, words too fast to keep up with. Half of them might have even been gibberish, seeing as he was only a year at the time. But Steve had been hanging onto every single word, determined to never ignore anything Tony said ever again. It might have been irrational, but it had been nice, listening to baby Tony chatter. Peggy had taken the photo and shown him after. He had kept it in his wallet ever since, to remind him of the boy always.

Tony had looked at the photo with a kind of reverence he'd never seen before. It had hurt his heart, his eyes still misty from earlier. But Tony had accepted that he was who he said he was. So Steve had entered the house and spoke with Tony.

And he had started to see what had concerned his wife so much. The loneliness. The sorrow. The self-doubt. Even though Steve knew that this was how the world was supposed to be, he took a moment to curse it all, as he let his arms wrap around Tony. This poor boy… he'd been through much, and he would only go through worse. It would get worse, far worse, before it could ever get better. Steve knew that.

It did hurt him something fierce, knowing that his inaction, his distance had hurt Tony. He hadn't thought the boy would care. That he wouldn't even notice the absence of a pseudo uncle he'd never even met before. But, Steve figured, as he tried to explain himself to the boy, trying not to give too much away but knowing the boy was too smart to lie to, Tony had been abandoned by so many people in his life. Of course it would hurt.

The boy had cried, then, which Steve knew that Tony hated to do, since Howard had drilled into him that men don't cry. Which was bullshit (pardon his language), in Steve's opinion. Men cried. It wasn't unheard of to see a soldier crying, late at night, for everything he had seen and done. Hell, Steve had cried often enough his own. Men cried. It wasn't shameful.

The boy didn't believe him, but maybe one day he would.

Then, the boy had screamed his name, frightening the hell out of him. Thinking he'd been had. But it was just a robot. A silly little thing, not anything close to the robots Tony would build, but still. It was an amazing feat, for a child of ten.

And then… then they had spoken of him. Captain America. Steve Rogers.

And Steve had felt an age-old anger flare in him at his old friend. Howard really did a number on his kid, didn't he? He'd watched as Tony ran off, towards his room, and had just followed. He pounded on the door, begging to be let in, but he got no answer. So, he resigned himself to waiting. He took a seat and was determined to wait however long it took before Tony exited.

Hours passed, his stomach growling, but he waited. And, eventually, he was rewarded. Tony came out, and they spoke again.

During the time he'd waited, he had been thinking about what to say. What he could possibly say, to make things better. To help Tony. To fix his past sins. And, over the hours, he had settled on a speech. One that he meant with all of his heart and wished he had told Tony earlier. Or, later, in this timeline.

"Look, I know I've not been there for you. And I, I'm sorry Tony. I was afraid. And I still am. There's a lot going on that you don't know about, that I won't be able to tell you, ever. But I need you to know one thing. You listening?"

He paused, waiting for Tony to respond. When the boy did, nodding while he sniffled, Steve continued.

"You are one of the most important things to me. You are probably the best man I've ever met, and I've met a lot of great men. One day, you will become the best of all of us. Better than your father. Better than me. And far better than Captain America. You will save this entire universe, Tony, again and again. You will face challenges and hardships, but you will never back down. You will prove to the world that Tony Stark is a man of integrity and goodness. You will bring pride and prestige to your family name. People for generations will know the name Tony Stark. I promise you this, Tony. I promise you. You have so much potential inside of you. So much greatness. So much goodness. And know that, while we might not always see eye to eye, I will always, always be proud of you and who you will become. Do you understand?"

It had felt good, to finally get the words out. He had wanted to tell Tony something like that for years. To let him know that, while they hadn't always been on the same page, or even on the same book, Steve respected him greatly. That, for a man that had no right to have been put into a battle position, he had done so much good. That he had saved so many people. That he was, and always would be, a good man. And it was too little, too late. Or too early. And it didn't make up for the lack of words when Tony was an adult. But it had felt so good to get the words out. To let Tony, at least one version of him, know how proud he was.

And when Tony hugged him, something Steve knew the child didn't initiate often anymore, it felt like forgiveness. He knew it wasn't the forgiveness he wanted, the kind he yearned for, from a man far older and far sadder, but it was something. Something.

Tony had changed moods after that, excitedly showing Steve his little robot, named, ironically, after himself.

What followed was one of the best days in Steve's recent memory. Spending time with Tony… he'd almost forgotten what the man had been like but spending time with his younger counterpoint reminded him right quick.

After putting Tony to bed that night, after promising to spend the rest of the week with him, Steve had gotten into bed with his wife. Peggy had been smiling at him all night, letting him know that he had done right by her. Which he was pleased with. He loved making Peggy happy with him.

"I told you it would be fine. He needs you, Steve. You can't deny that," she whispered, hand caressing the side of his face as they laid down in bed. They were both too tried and too old to do anything, but he still kissed her, gently, pulling her close to his side. Despite all his regrets about coming to the past, he'd never forget, nor regret, the reason he came back in the first place. It made it all worth it, in a way.

"I know. I know. I hope I can help him, at least a little. That some part of adult Tony will remember this, and it will make it at least a little easier for him. I won't be able to see him often, but maybe… maybe it'll be fine if we spend just a little time together." Steve chuckled then, shaking his head as a thought occurred. "The greatest irony is that the best person to ask about this is the very one causing this dilemma in the first place. Life sure is funny."

And it was. It really was.

But, as he spent the rest of the week with his nephew (and that took some getting used to, seeing Tony Stark as his nephew), it wasn't bad.

It was hard. Watching as Tony grew but not being able to spare him the pain. Knowing that he could spare Tony so much pain if he just told the boy. But it was also wonderful, being part of Tony's life. They only met maybe once a year, if that, but each time was wonderful. And he still heard all about Tony and his exploits from Peggy and Jarvis (who had, at some point, figured out his identity. Steve still didn't know how that had happened but knew that his secret was safe with the one man who was consistently there for Tony, and whose memory would inspire a creation that would save Tony's life a thousand times over). It wasn't perfect, it wasn't great, but it was good.

Through the years, he kept the robot Tony had given him in his office, in a spot that he would always be able to see, never to be taken down. Even after it broke and wouldn't dance any longer, it was precious to him. Just like Tony had grown to be.

Tony would go through so much in his life. He would have to lose his parents without getting a chance to say goodbye. He would have to be tortured for months in a cave, lose the man who had saved his life in more ways than one, be betrayed by a would-be father figure. He would have to become an Avenger, to face Steve himself, an uncaring version who didn't know just how kind and caring Tony truly was. He would have to lose his team, his found family, would have to face the world on his own yet again. He would have to watch the world fall into destruction, gain a child but be forced to make the decision to leave that child to save the world yet again.

He would have to die to make sure the world could live.

And he'd have to do it, all of it, on his own.

And that was just how it had to be.

But Steve could at least let him know that he was out there.

And he was so, so proud.