Every ring felt like another confirmation of a friendship beyond repair. Another nail in the coffin. Steve didn't even know how things got this way. It had...snowballed. Ultron, Bucky. Him and Tony had always been two sides of the same coin. Both wanting to do good things, but so different in how they achieved it. He was used to grass-roots. Digging his hands in deep and old fashion morals he knew had died when he went in that ice so many, many years ago. Tony was the new age. Loud, proud, and neurotic to hell. He would force the world to better itself or destroy himself trying.  Tony burned bright for so long, Steve feared they were finally getting to witness the fallout.<br/><br/>Then Tony picked up, and Steve froze. He hadn't expected Tony to pick in a million years, and now that he had, Steve wasn't sure what to say. Give him the facts? Hope? Would Tony even listen to him? He should have had Widow call him, Tony was more receptive to women than he ever was men. Especially Steve. Considering his history with Tony's father, Steve couldn't exactly blame him.<br/><br/>"Tony." He found his voice after a measured breath, "We need you. Thor found something that could-" His eyes flicked to Thor, then to Wong, who'd been sitting with a faint air of disinterest the entire meeting. "-We have a shot at this. You get here, or I'll come get you." He worded it like a threat because they both knew Steve would do it, even if he didn't want to.<br/><br/>He'd thought he was prepared to see Tony back then on the fields of Wakanda, but the moment he'd seen him their parting rushed back. Steve wrestled with the guilt of stranding Tony out in the frigid wilderness for months. He'd never wanted to do that to Tony, even after everything. They'd been a<i>team</i>, a family. Leaving his shield behind was his penance and the last day he ever referred to himself as Captain America.<br/><br/>In the end, he hadn't even been able to keep Bucky beside him. Another sting to the open wound.<br/><br/>------------------------<br/><br/>PeterP squinted into the sun framing the backside of the house, grin tugging at his lips. PeterQ was in a good mood today, and hopefully an even better one once he showed him what he'd brought from town. It took a bit of a walk to get there, but today, he'd needed it. It was his first, and only birthday he'd spent without the company of at least one family member. He didn't know if he would ever get to see Aunt May again, or if she was even-<br/><br/>He banished the thought before it could form, his grip tightening on the burlap drawstring bag clutched in his left fist.<br/><br/>"Brought- Um, Sticky buns? Kind of like honeybuns, you know the ones you could get in the grocery...Or wait, would you know that? Since you're from...space." Sometimes PeterP couldn't fathom all the things his name-buddy had seen. The vastness of space was beyond his comprehension. He had a hard enough time struggling through high school. Not that he'd ever get to finish now.<br/><br/>He jogged up the two steps onto the porch, brandishing the bag with a broader smile. "They're pretty good!" Food in this era was about as enjoyable as a senior citizen's buffet, but he was getting used to it. There were some lean times he'd scraped by with Aunt May over the years, so he figured he could get used to about anything. Even possum (not that he wanted a repeat of that night any time soon).<br/><br/>Peter decided not to mention his birthday. Neither men were obligated to care, and it felt too bittersweet to speak the words out loud. He would have liked to hit the movies with Ned, spend the day with Aunt May, and...Mr Stark had hinted he would add an upgrade to his suit, which he'd been looking forward to most of all. If only because that might have meant he would have gotten to spend time with Tony that wasn't passed through Happy. Not that Happy wasn't a great guy, but PeterP didn't think Happy liked him very much. Or maybe he just didn't like teenagers in general.<br/><br/>He plopped himself down in the spare chair never to PeterQ, fishing through the bag to draw out one of the buns stuck to a thin piece of wax paper. "Kinda gritty though, but, what's new?" He chuckled, holding out the bun with a hopeful glow behind his young face. It felt a bit like tricking him into it, but Peter wanted to share<i>something</i>with someone today that felt vaguely celebratory.