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Steve Rogers kept his head down as he walked the empty streets at 2 AM, his breath visible in the cold night air. The city was always quieter at this hour, almost peaceful. It was a far cry from the chaos he’d once been wrapped up in—chaos that was named Tony Stark.
Four months had passed since he left Tony.
Steve did not want to but he had to do it. Tony was such a bright light and he deserved somebody who would keep that shine about him. Someone who could keep up with him, not a broken man with nightmares and a fear of cars backfiring and flashbulbs when you walk on the red carpet.
For a minute he was in heaven. For that minute after Tony told him that he loved him that they’ll make it work Steve knew he wouldn’t return—Steve had done what he thought was best. He left.
He had spent months keeping under the radar, hitchhiking across different towns, visiting friends from far away, never staying long. He’d always told himself it was his best friends that kept him close by in New York, but deep down, Steve knew the truth. It wasn’t just his friends.
It was Tony.
He should’ve gone farther, should’ve left New York entirely. But he couldn’t. No matter how much distance he tried to create, the reality was simple: Steve couldn’t stay away from Tony. He wasn’t ready to admit it—not to himself, not to anyone—but every step he took seemed to lead him back here.
As Steve turned down a side street, the sound of screeching tires shattered the quiet. His instincts kicked in, and he jogged toward the source of the noise. Rounding the corner, he saw a car spinning out of control, crashing violently before coming to a halt on its side.
Steve froze for a split second, processing the scene. His heart raced as he ran toward the wreckage, smoke rising from the mangled vehicle. Whoever was in that car needed help—fast.
His hands gripped the door handle, yanking it open. The acrid smell of smoke and burnt rubber filled the air as Steve crouched down, peering inside the car. And then his breath caught in his throat.
Tony.
Of all people. Of all the places. Steve’s chest tightened as he stared down at Tony’s slumped figure, barely coherent, his body limp. This was not what Steve had expected. He thought Tony was out in the East Coast getting some kind of award he earlier heard in the news
“Tony…” Steve whispered, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the engine cooling.
Tony’s head lolled to the side, his eyes fluttering as he fought to stay conscious. He was alive, but barely aware. Though Steve knew he shouldn’t just pull him out but he wasn’t going to take any chances of the car exploding. Tony’s body was heavy in Steve’s arms but he pulled him out like doll so afraid that he never gets to see those beautiful doe eyes.
Tony’s eyes flickered open for a moment, unfocused, and his lips parted. “Cap… Sssteve?” he mumbled, his voice weak, the word barely more than a breath.
Steve’s heart clenched. Tony wasn’t fully aware—he couldn’t be. He was in and out of consciousness, and Steve wasn’t sure if Tony even knew what was real.
“It’s me, Tony,” Steve said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He cradled Tony’s head, easing him down onto the sidewalk. “You’re gonna be okay. Just hang in there.”
Tony blinked, but his gaze was distant. He mumbled something incoherent before his eyes fluttered shut again, his head resting against Steve’s chest.
Steve sat there in the cold night, holding Tony, his mind racing. After all the months of hiding, after all the effort to stay away, Steve had stumbled right back into Tony’s life. Fate, cruel as it was, had brought them back together.
“I’ve got you,” Steve whispered, his voice firm, though the weight of everything pressed on his chest. The sirens growing stronger from the distant, Steve kissed Tony on the temple and made his decision.