4. Sins Of The Father 3

Steve stood over Coulson’s hospital bed. The man himself looked up blearily at Steve, his skin still sallow and his eyes gaunt from pain and drugs. It had been three weeks since the Chitauri invasion, and barely over a month since Steve had been pulled from the ice, but this was the first time Steve actually felt better about living in the future. If nothing else, medicine had advanced enough to bring a good man back from death.

“The Avengers?” Steve asked, trying not to smile.

“Fan. Always…a fan.” Phil almost smiled back, the canula out of his nose blocking it a little as he gasped through talking, words slow and awkward.

“You know that I based Hawkeye on Bucky Barnes, right?” Steve leaned against the raised bed rail. Phil was unconscious more than he wasn’t most days, but this was the first conversation where he looked like he was actually present for it.

Phil gave him a short nod. “He had…he had the name before I…found him.” Phil took a deep breath that was painful to watch. "Gave me the idea…for the rest…" He gave Steve a hopeless smile. "They fit?"

Steve wondered if Director Fury had known the precedent for all the code names when Phil had presented them. “I think they all fit pretty well. Although we’re missing a Scarlet Witch.”

Phil blinked at him for a moment, then smiled again. “Pep…Pepper Potts.”

Steve laughed at that, because he could see it. Pepper wasn’t quite as curvy as the pin-up Steve had once drawn for Bucky, but she had style and wit and was a very beautiful woman. If Steve wasn’t still thinking so much about Peggy, and if Pepper had not been Tony Stark’s girl, then Steve figured things might be different for both of them. He could fantasize a little about it without shame, he thought. He was only human.

Agent Barton came in carrying a coffee and stopped, looking surprised to see Steve there. Natasha had told Steve about Coulson and Barton, that they were “together,” and Steve had almost laughed at her uncomfortable attempts to try to explain the concept of male lovers to him. As if that had not happened in his day, as if Steve himself hadn’t spent time at the bathhouses. And then he realized that of course, she had no way of knowing either.

It was his first clue that history did not remember everything.

The difference to him was not Coulson and Barton having a relationship, but that everyone around them knew and accepted that fact. Barton was treated as if he was an actual relative by the medical staff both at SHIELD (when he was there) and at the tower. Steve had tried to "go with the flow" (as Agent Sitwell suggested) but he was pretty sure that he was not doing a good job of that, overall.

“Hey,” Barton said cautiously. He was still a little reserved around Steve. He was not even cleared for duty, being hauled through the wringer because of his actions while under Loki’s control. Natasha promised Steve that Barton would be exonerated, but it was frustrating for everyone in the meantime. Barton spent most his days (when not working out, practicing at the range, or being interrogated by SHEILD), by Coulson’s bed.

“I heard our boy was awake, and decided to drop by.” Steve smiled warmly, hoping that would put Barton at ease. “We’re talking about the Amazing Avengers.”

Barton rolled his eyes at Coulson, who smiled weakly back at him. “I told him not to name everybody after characters in that stupid old comic book.”

Coulson jerked a little and Steve’s eyebrows shot up. Barton’s eyes went wide. “Oh hell, you wrote that comic book, Jesus fuck, I totally forgot that. Uh, sorry? I mean, I’m sure it’s a great comic book, for its, uh, time.” Clint cringed as he sat down in a chair. “Sorry.”

Coulson wore an expression that clearly said life would be easier for him if he had actually died. Steve had to laugh. “It’s okay, agent. I know it’s not high art. I mostly wrote it to get the credit for it. My portfolio was pretty thin, and comic books were starting to get popular.”

Barton cocked his head. “Was that before Superman?”

Steve sighed. His apparently eternal nemesis: Superman. “Yes, about a year before.”

“Huh.” Barton sipped his coffee and looked over at Coulson. “Hey babe, you look tired. Go to sleep.”

“Shuddup,” Coulson mumbled, but he was already drifting away on the drugs and his body’s exhaustion.

They watched as Coulson went lax, his chest rising and lowering with his breaths. He had only been off the respirator for a week, and seeing him breathe for himself was still novel for them. Barton looked over at Steve.

“It means a lot to him, you coming by to visit. Thanks.”

“He’s a brave soldier and a good man. I’m glad he made it, even if we didn’t know that at the time.” Steve frowned, remembering Fury’s lies, but left the matter at that. He had said his peace to Fury, in between Tony Stark yelling like a mad man and Pepper Potts threatening lawsuits. It had been a dramatic day when Coulson’s survival had been revealed.

“You can call me Clint, you know.” Clint looked up at him through exhausted eyes. “Instead of ‘agent.’ I never know who you’re talking to, we’re all agents here.”

Steve held out his hand. “Thanks, Clint. Call me Steve.”

Clint gave his hand a firm, brisk shake. “Yeah, I don’t think so, Cap. Phil would probably smack me for being disrespectful of an American icon.”

Steve smiled again. “I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.”

“Keep telling yourself that when the paparazzi hit,” Clint said wearily.

“The what?”

“Ask Stark.”

For a blinding moment, Steve thought of Howard, before he realized that Clint meant Tony Stark. He nodded. “Has he been here?”

“Yeah, every day. Comes in just long enough to annoy the shit out of me, then leaves.”

“Not like it’s far out of his way,” Steve commented, hoping for neutral territory. He and Tony Stark were still sparking like flint and sometimes their interactions were less friendly and more barbed. He was coming around to actually liking and respecting Tony Stark but that had not translated into friendship. It was still too weird for Steve to remember that Tony was Howard’s son, and he was nearly fifteen years older than Howard had been when Steve had last seen him.

For Steve, laying with Howard was still a recent memory, not something 70+ years in the past. He couldn’t quite look Howard’s son in the eyes when he thought of that, which was pretty often if only because Tony held so much of his father in him.

It was awkward.

Clint missed Steve’s discomfort and just nodded, still staring at Coulson. “Honestly? I’m glad he offered. SHIELD medical is good but this?” Clint waved around at the incredibly high-tech and luxurious surroundings of the medical wing in Stark Tower. “This is better.”

“Not really surprising. Seems having the best technology available is a Stark hand-me-down.” Steve leaned against the wall, shoving his hands into this pockets. It was nice to relax a bit and talk as normal soldiers with someone who wasn’t treating him like Captain America.

“Whoa, yeah, you worked with Daddy Stark.” Clint looked thoughtful. “Tony much the same?”

Steve nodded. “Yep. Although…Howard didn’t come from money. He had that nouveau riche attitude, always trying to prove something.”

Clink snickered. “So pretty much exactly the same.”

“No. Tony…Tony acts like he’s got a lot to prove, but not about money. That, he takes it for granted. It’s not the same. Sorry, I’m not explaining it well.”

Clint sipped his coffee again. “No, I get it. Tony’s got to prove himself, justify his existence. Always has, from the reports. No offense to your friend Howard but I don’t think he put much effort into being Tony’s father.”

“Howard was a good man with a drive to do what was right. I believe he loved Tony, even if maybe he wasn’t good at showing it,” Steve snapped.

“Okay.” Clint raised a hand in surrender.

Steve sighed. “Sorry. Just…I know Howard never planned on kids, not really.”

“Huh. That explains a lot.” Clint sighed. "Probably part of Tony's grudge match with you."

"I wasn't aware we were in a grudge match." Steve leaned against the wall again, glad to be off the topic of Howard but not liking the tone of Clint's comment. "We have our differences but we've mended fences and are moving forward. We're teammates. I don't appreciate what you're implying."

"Look, Stark's…Tony's got daddy issues. Everyone knows it, even Tony. His father idolized you, was part of the machine that kept the Captain America myth going all these years. You ever think about how hard it would be for a kid to grow up in your shadow?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Yeah, it was. You were in the ice when Tony was born and raised, you have no idea the kind of man Daddy Stark became."

"I read the file," Steve glared at Clint, who didn't act like he noticed Steve's displeasure with the topic.

Clint rubbed an eyebrow, looking over at Phil. "What I know doesn't come from Tony's file. It comes from the fact that I'm about ten years younger than he is. Don't ever tell Tony this but when I was 15? I was a huge Tony Stark fan. I idolized him there for a while; hell most guys did, he was the shit."

"What?" Steve shook his head.

"To a kid like me, Tony's life was unbelievable: rich, smart, only child, best schools, hottest girls, coolest clothes. Every week there was a new magazine out talking about the latest party he threw in Monte Carlo, the newest hot starlet he was banging." Clint leaned back in the chair with a lazy smile. "I don't know about you but when I was a horny teen that kind of sounded like the promised land."

Steve coughed pointedly, feeling the blush creep up to his ears. "I think I know what you mean," he said, remember his first time with the traveling shoe salesman. Had he only been sixteen at the time? He could barely remember, amid everything in his life that had happened since.

Clint barked out a laugh, then covered his mouth when Phil stirred a little in his sleep. Clint spoke again a little more quietly. "See, Tony's whole life has played out in public. You read the file; sometime, stop by the library and check out his biographies. He's got nearly a dozen, all unofficial, all mostly tabloid fodder. The first one was published right after his father died, when Tony was, what, 21? Who gets a biography about them at 21? " Clint sighed. "Anyway, my point: you talked about Tony having something to prove, and I'm telling you that the person he never got to prove himself to was your good friend Howard. You show up all perfect and everything—"

"I'm hardly perfect." Steve scowled.

"Sure. Right. Anyway, you show all perfect and everything, and Tony hates you. But he can't hate you, because you're totally perfect."

"I'm not perfect."

"So now he's all confused, because he wants to like the guy he's spent most of his life hating on principle because his father always liked you more."

Steve cringed. Clint snapped his fingers, acknowledging the direct hit.

"Even if you're right, we're getting along much better now." Steve stood up straight and looked over at Phil.

"Yeah, power to the team and all that." Clint sipped his coffee. "Just don't expect smooth sailing, that's all I'm saying. Tony doesn't really know what to do with you." Clint slumped back in on himself a little, his expression shuttered. "It's complicated, with him, in ways you might, uh, you might not understand."

"Such as?" Steve lifted an eyebrow, pinning Clint down with his gaze.

Clint cleared his throat. "Nat explained to you about, uh, me and Phil?"

Steve blinked at the non-sequitur. "Yes."

"Good. Good." Clint sat up straight in the chair. "Glad we had this talk."

Clint went quiet and stared at Phil as if he could animate the man with the power of his mind. Seeing it as the polite dismissal it was, Steve took the elevator from the medical floor up to his apartment. Everyone acted surprised that Tony was the driving force behind putting the whole team in the tower, but Steve thought it made sense. He had spent the last two years (of the life he actually remembered living) sleeping, eating and fighting with the Howling Commandos. They would not have been half as effective a unit if they had all gone their separate ways after every mission. Friendships were forced but also forged under the circumstances of proximity and battle, and while Steve didn’t miss bunking down on bare floors in bombed out buildings with twenty stinking, exhausted men, he did appreciate having everyone under one roof.

The fact that it was sometimes weird to be in such close proximity to Howard's son just made it all that more confusing for Steve.