Archive of Our Own

#182 744 561 - 2

When Tony comes across the android among the collection of weapons and other military tech his captors have provided him with, he first thinks it's a corpse.

No one can really blame him if he lets out a yelp of surprise and almost drops the car battery at the sight, because lying on the floor against the wall, it looks perfectly human: a blond man, maybe late twenties in age, wearing army fatigues. Together with the muscular-looking build, that suggests it's a military model. A second look reveals damage to its side that was initially blocked from view, with patches of plastic and broken wiring that make it obvious this corpse is artificial.

Tony sits down by the unmoving figure, setting the battery on the ground next to him.

From close up, the android's face looks peaceful, as if it's asleep, except that the right half of it is mangled, a chunk of its chassis missing where Tony would expect to see the circle of an LED on its temple. Still, more than enough remains to showcase how flawlessly beautiful its features are, from the cheekbones and jawline to the long eyelashes—and why on Earth would a combat model need those?

It's got to be one of Kamski's, Tony thinks. No one else makes them as unnecessarily perfect as he does. He's weird even on Tony's scale, but he does have talent, not to mention an impeccable sense of aesthetics. And if it's one of his, Tony knows the basics of the build well, thanks to some time he spent with the man before CyberLife made it to the Fortune 500. Which means that this android could be the beginning of a solution to his very urgent heart-and-shrapnel situation.

He places a cautious hand on the android's shoulder and gives it a nudge. "Hey, you awake?" he tries.

The android doesn't react at all. Yinsen does, calling out from across the room. "Stark? Did you say something?"

"Nah. Just thinking out loud," he replies quickly.

He doesn't want Yinsen here. He feels awkward enough about this without someone watching over his shoulder.

There's a reason why it's Elijah Kamski and not Tony Stark who rules the android market, and why there are no humanoid robots in Stark Industries' portfolio. Tony's actively steered the company away from them. It's not that he doesn't like androids; more like the opposite. He's always been very fond of the machine minds around him. He considers JARVIS a friend, and his bots are as dear to him as pets would be to someone else. The thought of creating AIs as sophisticated as JARVIS and putting them in bodies that are realistic enough to fool you into thinking that they're human, and then selling them as a commodity—he doesn't think that's right.

Dad always did tell him he's too soft, and he remembers Kamski calling him adorable in a tone that left it vague whether he was being sincere or derisive. They're probably right to mock him. Tony knows he's anthropomorphizing. These are machines; just clever mimics of humans. They're not sentient. They don't have feelings.

Luckily, going by the android's lack of response, it's either shut down entirely, or very badly damaged. That makes things a lot easier for him.

Telling himself that he's not being a creep and is just inspecting a piece of technology, Tony unzips the android's partly scorched jacket and uses the tiny knife from the multitool his captors have graciously given him to cut open its t-shirt.

Its torso is just as lifelike as its face, all perfectly sculpted muscle that'd put most humans to shame. It doesn't seem to be breathing—the obscenely well-formed pecs are still as death. Tony isn't sure if a military model would breathe even while intact, but if he had to guess, he'd say yes. Most of the detail on this android is pointless; there's absolutely no reason for it to look so pretty, and yet, there it is.

Not being a creep, this is a just machine, he repeats to himself once more, and puts his hands on the android's chest to feel around for switches that must be there. He's not been up close and personal with any of the more recent models CyberLife has put out, but he doesn't expect the basics to have changed too much.

The android's skin doesn't feel human under his fingertips, but it doesn't feel like a machine, either. It's cool and has a slight give to it, like silicone. It takes conscious effort to ignore the parallels his mind wants to draw to how much it resembles a high-quality sex toy. God. He knows Kamski also does androids for those purposes. He can't say the idea isn't a turn-on, but again, it also bothers him, which is why he's never tried one of those—and why he's doing his best not to think of how hot this high-tech artificial Adonis in front of him happens to be.

This is a machine. Tony's got a job to do, and he'll do it as respectfully as he can.

It takes him a few minutes, but eventually, he finds what he's looking for under the android's armpits. As he presses down on both sides, the skin covering the android's torso fades away, turning into smooth white plastic. With the silver seams between sections in plain view, it's much easier to locate the next catch he needs, the one that allows him to open a chest panel.

He's greeted by a faintly pulsing orange glow.

Tony sits back, biting down a curse.

Shit, he's still alive, is his instant, panicked thought, which he quickly corrects to it hasn't shut down yet.

It's an android. It's never really been alive. But it's also not the machine-equivalent of dead; its thirium pump is still running, its blue blood circulating through the tubing analogous to veins and arteries.

The light is orange instead of a healthy blue, which tells him that the android's biocomponents are damaged, but since it hasn't shut down, Tony might still be able to repair it. He'd have to improvise the hell out of it, though, because he doesn't exactly have access to CyberLife spare parts here. It'd also take a lot of time, which he doesn't have.

Yinsen has given him a week. There's no way he can fix both himself and this android within a week. Besides, his best bet for saving himself is the opposite of repairing the android.

He sits there in silence for a moment, watching the still figure of the android bathed in that undulating orange light, feeling the equally sluggish beat of his own damaged heart. His chest hurts constantly, these days; a brighter, sharper pain around the rim of the electromagnet buried in the center of it, and a deep ache beneath, as if he can feel the shrapnel inching closer.

It should be an easy choice. His life, or the continued existence of this android that he doesn't even know, which might be doomed anyway, no matter what he does. But he's recently come to realize that he's not made very good choices in his life. He's probably not a very good person. His weapons have killed so many innocent people already—is his life really worth saving? Wouldn't the world be a better place without him?

If he dies in this godforsaken cave somewhere in the Altai mountains, his only legacy will be death and destruction. If he lives and makes it out, then maybe, just maybe, he can do some good to counteract it all.

This is a military android. Its internal build, the bullet-proof lining of its chassis and the heavy-duty servos make that even more obvious than the fatigues it's wearing. Really, it's another type of weapon. A machine made to kill. It's like a broken tank. Fixing one wouldn't do humanity a favor. His captors might grab it and reprogram it to serve their cause.

Tony blows out a breath, and brings his hand to the android's chest again, his fingers finding the edges of one particular biocomponent. A quick twist and it comes loose, like it's meant to. All CyberLife androids have a modular build, so the parts can be easily removed to be serviced or replaced.

Once detached, the component quickly shifts from orange to blue. It's not damaged. This really must be his lucky day.

He doesn't feel particularly lucky. He feels like a murderer.

He waits and watches, and after a minute or so, the light inside the android's chest cavity starts to fade as the beat of its machine heart comes to a stop.

Whatever this android was like when it lived, it is no more.

Tony swallows, but that does nothing to the tightness at his throat.

He gets up, holding on to his prize. He made his choice. He's going to have to live with it.

"Stark?" Yinsen asks again, his footsteps approaching Tony across the room. "What did you find?"

Without a word, Tony holds out his hand, with the softly glowing cylindrical device on his palm.

Yinsen stares at it with a confused frown. He's a medical doctor; he won't have any idea of the functions of android biocomponents. "What's that?" he asks.

"This," Tony says, "is a thirium pump regulator, and it's going to save me from an untimely death."

The device that Yinsen eventually implants in Tony's chest is more Stark than Kamski. He calls it a thirium reactor, and its power output would make Kamski green with envy. The triangle surrounded by little caution notes that make it recognizable as CyberLife android tech is still visible in the middle of it. Tony could've chosen to scrape them off, and he didn't. It would've felt like trying to cover up his crime.

He ends up dismantling the poor android almost entirely when he builds the suit of armor he uses to escape.

Tony makes it out. Yinsen doesn't.

Even though Yinsen uses his dying words to declare that he made his own choices and didn't expect to survive, Tony still feels terrible. This makes Yinsen the second person who's sacrificed their life to save Tony.

He really doesn't deserve this, not after everything he's done, after the kind of man he's been. But here he is, still alive and kicking, and he swears that he'll get home and do everything in his power to make those sacrifices worthwhile. That's the thought that keeps him on his feet as he stumbles through the rocky wilderness after crash-landing his armor, and finally into the sensor range of Rhodey's search party.

Rhodey takes Tony's android spare part life support in stride, once Tony manages to convince him that it's not going to explode. It's the easiest of the conversations Tony has on the topic; a prelude to challenges awaiting him.

JARVIS figures it out the minute Tony gets home. "Welcome back, sir," the AI greets him, and then, "I'm picking up an energy source with a signature resembling that of a CyberLife android."

Even before his eye-opening stint in the cave, Tony sometimes speculated about whether JARVIS thinks of androids as a related species. Cousins, maybe, if not brothers. Still, whether he does or not, JARVIS doesn't feel. That's not in his programming. JARVIS may be a learning, adapting machine consciousness—and Tony does think JARVIS is self-aware at least by some definition of the word—but emotions are not a part of it.

Whether or not JARVIS thinks androids are somehow his kin, he won't judge Tony for placing his own life above one of theirs. Definitely not when it wasn't even certain that the android in question could be repaired. Looking at statistical probabilities, Tony thinks he was the more likely out of the two of them to make it out of that cave alive.

Tony wonders what he'd do if he were forced to choose between his own life and shutting down JARVIS for good. He likes to think he'd be willing to die for JARVIS if it ever came to that, but he's not sure if he'd be that brave.

That android might've been as smart as JARVIS before it was damaged and rendered inert. Tony doesn't know how it ended up in that cave. Maybe it used to be a part of some team. Maybe it had friends who cared for it like Tony does for JARVIS.

In the end, he doesn't tell JARVIS how he came by the parts that he used for the thirium reactor.

Tony doesn't know how to bring it up with Pepper, so he tries to avoid the topic, but he can only do that for so long. When he finally does tell her, it's because of a practical necessity. Doing maintenance is kind of tricky. It's not something he really took into account when putting the device together. The way CyberLife designs their parts, they're not meant to be serviced without removing them, which is something Tony can't do. He wouldn't last five minutes if he took out the reactor.

Rhodey already knows about it, but Tony doesn't want to invite Rhodey over just to do this. Pepper's on the premises already, working upstairs, so Tony sucks it up and asks her.

Her reaction to seeing Tony shirtless, with the thirium reactor in full view, is even more shocked than Tony expected, which is saying a lot, since Tony knew she'd freak out.

She freezes at the door, eyes the size of dinner plates, color draining from her face. "Who—what are you, and what did you to to Tony?" she exclaims, looking around wildly as if searching for something to use as a weapon.

It takes effort, but Tony suppresses the exasperation that tries to bubble up, and doesn't groan or roll his eyes. "Pepper, take a deep breath and focus for two seconds. I'm me. I haven't been replaced by a robot."

"But that's—" she stammers, pointing a shaky finger at him.

"Yeah, it's something I cobbled together using CyberLife tech. Think of it as an improvised pacemaker," Tony tells her, trying to keep it as casual as he can. He decides to leave it at that. It's easier not to go into detail about how it's also an electromagnet and possibly the most compact power generator anyone's ever built. "You know androids don't scar like this, right?" he adds, waving a hand in front of the device.

That doesn't seem to reassure her in the slightest. Instead, she seems to grow even paler, but at least her posture relaxes and she approaches him in wary steps, gaze flicking from his face to his chest.

"I knew you went through a lot, but I had no idea," she says softly. "Does it hurt?"

"Nah," Tony lies. "I'm used to it by now."

She looks unconvinced, and declines at first when Tony explains that he needs help replenishing the thirium reserve and can't handle the finicky valve himself. He manages to talk her into it eventually, because she's a good, kind person. Not like Tony.

The worst of the conversations is the one with Obie, and not because he's dismayed by the device. It's the opposite. The moment he sees it, his eyes light up with the gleam that says he can smell profit.

"So, what kind of power output are we talking about here?" he asks right away, because he knows enough to put two and two together.

Tony shrugs dismissively. "Enough that I'm not going to have to worry about it for the next couple of years."

It's not that he doesn't trust Obie, but he knows that if Obie realizes the full potential of what Tony's built, he's not going to let it slide past his fingers.

"Have you told Kamski about this yet?" Obie presses on.

"Not yet, no," Tony says.

Obie steps closer, crowding his personal space. "You're friends with him, right? We should make use of that. Maybe you're right, maybe we should start looking into expanding beyond the defense industry. This could be the start of a beautiful partnership."

"It would be the start of an intellectual property rights nightmare," Tony returns, pulling the lapels of his bathrobe closer together to cover the reactor.

"Don't be so negative, Tony," Obie says, and places both hands on Tony's shoulders. "You built it under very unusual circumstances, and you can make him see that. He can talk to his lawyers. I'm sure we'll be able to come to an agreement that'll benefit all parties."

That's the last thing Tony wants. In creating this thirium reactor, he inadvertently came up with something that's extremely weaponizable, and he isn't going to let anyone else get their hands on it. That would be the opposite of what he now knows he needs to do. That'd be spitting in the face of the promise he made to Yinsen.

Things he's designed have already killed far too many people; he really doesn't want to be responsible for more.

Tony backs away from Obie. "I'll talk to him, but don't expect too much," he says, mostly because he knows that'll put an end to this particular conversation, and because it's what he intends to do, anyway. At some point. When he's ready.

On the days following his return, Tony alternates between obsessing about the armor and obsessing about the android.

His armor quickly grows from a flurry of ideas into an exciting prototype, and he loves everything about it. He can fly! He should've thought of building something like this ages ago, although it would've been challenging without such a convenient power source.

His second obsession doesn't go anywhere beyond being a constant source of guilt that he concretely carries around in his chest. He wouldn't have any of this without the android. He wishes he had a name or even just a model designation to use, but he doesn't. It didn't have one on its clothes or its skin or any of its parts. There was a serial number, which Tony memorized, but it doesn't give him any hits in any of the searches he runs.

He scans the thirium that he obtained from the android. It should have identifying information. Instead, it comes up entirely blank aside from a generic batch identifier, similar to what's in the fresh stock Tony ordered. He can trace that ID, but all it tells him is that the specific batch of blue blood was manufactured around a year ago, in mid-2027.

It doesn't make any sense. CyberLife has a catalogue that, according to their own description, includes every android they've ever produced, and none of them match the one Tony's looking for. He goes through every single combat and security model there is, and none have the exact specifications that he's so intimately familiar with after taking apart his nameless savior.

He remembers every biocomponent, knows its beefed-up servos and its reinforced chassis, knows how it had a dusting of blond hair on its arms and legs but not on its torso. He knows that even though it had nipples, it had no genitals under its clothes.

He remembers how beautiful its face was until he turned off the artificial skin and split open its metal-and-plastic skull to see which components were intact and useful.

When the guilt gets really bad, he can't even distract himself with the armor, because he's only around to tinker with the armor thanks to the damn android.

It often occurs to him how much more time and energy he seems to be spending on regret over this android, compared to his regret over all the human lives that his weapons cut short, and that turns it all into a spiral that leaves him feeling nauseous with disgust over himself. Everything's wrong about this. Why does he care so much about that machine? What does it matter that his hands were the ones to take it apart, when he has the blood of thousands of people on them as well?

And still, he can't stop.

He hacks into a military database to see what androids they employ, but all of them are models that he already saw in the catalogue. He dips into the dark web to look for black market sellers, and comes up empty. He even explores what information he can find about Russian-built androids, even though he knows that won't give him any answers. He may have been held captive on Russian soil, but there's no way his savior wasn't built by CyberLife.

Finally, Tony has to admit to himself that he's exhausted all other options.

Time to pay a visit to Elijah Kamski.

Tony wants to go in his armor, but he doesn't want anyone to find out he's the one wearing it, and he has no easy way to get out of it without the gantry in his workshop. That means he has no choice but to take the jet and spend an entire day on his trip. It's a necessary evil. He knows he needs to do this.

He hasn't visited the CyberLife Tower before. Its gleaming glass silhouette looms over Detroit. Honestly, he thinks it's ugly, and entirely ridiculous; it's clearly made to look expensive. It's like someone set out to design the most futuristic thing imaginable, and was then told to make it even taller and shinier. Maybe that's to be expected from a company that sprang from nothing to a household brand almost overnight.

Of course, there's an android assistant waiting for him in the lobby. She—no, it—is a pretty blonde with a friendly smile, and Tony recognizes the model: RT600, commonly known as Chloe. CyberLife's flagship, their first commercial success, and the first android to pass the Turing test. Not that that's much of an achievement. JARVIS could pass it using a fraction of his processing capacity. It's just that Tony's never bothered to play at that particular game.

Kamski's office is at the top floor of the Tower. Of course it is. To Tony's surprise, Kamski's dressed formally: dark gray slacks and a matching vest, with a burgundy dress shirt underneath. The kind of getup Tony might pick, and not really the style Tony's used to seeing him with. Unlike Tony, he's been known to show up on the national news in jeans and a hoodie, like some sysadmin that got dragged out of the basement. His hair is carefully combed into his usual ponytail, his beard trimmed to a style not too different from Tony's.

He looks good, Tony has to admit, and wonders what Kamski thinks of him in return. Probably that he seems pale and tired. This isn't some public appearance, so he didn't go through the trouble of trying to hide the bags under his eyes or the trace of a bruise on his cheek from his most recent mishap in the workshop.

Kamski gets up to greet Tony, shaking his hand firmly. "Tony. What an unexpected pleasure."

"Elijah," Tony returns, forcing a smile. "Loving your new home. If I didn't know better, I'd think you're compensating for something, but I guess you just can't help being pretentious."

As it happens, he does know better. Not like Tony would've passed up the chance to get it on with a guy who looks nice and is on the single-digits list of people on the planet who are as smart as he is. Definitely not back when he was still busy getting it on with anyone who was even vaguely interesting.

Kamski quirks an eyebrow. "And I'd think you're envious—ah, wait. You probably are."

Tony ignores the implicit jab about size, which is entirely unfounded anyway and doesn't merit a reply. "Of this affront to good taste? Hardly."

"But I'm sure you didn't come all this way just to discuss architecture," Kamski says, moving not towards his desk but a sofa table and a pair of comfortable-looking armchairs set in a corner of his spacious office. "Take a seat, and tell me what brings you here."

Tony doesn't sit, and puts his hands in his pockets to keep himself from fidgeting. He has no reason to be this agitated—he knows Kamski's not going to judge him—but he can't help it.

"You've been following the news, right?" Tony checks.

"Of course," Kamski says, relaxing into his chair. "I was happy to hear that you made it back safely."

"Well, I've got you to thank for it," Tony says.

"How so?" Kamski asks, tilting his head curiously. "You weren't rescued by androids, were you?"

"In a way, I was." Maybe it's better to do this quickly and be done with it. Rip off the Band-Aid and all that. He starts unbuttoning his shirt.

"Whoa, aren't you moving fast," Kamski begins, but then falls silent, his mouth still open, his eyes fixed on Tony's chest. "Huh. You're full of surprises today."

He gets up from his chair to crouch in front of Tony, bringing one hand to frame the thirium reactor. Tony does his best not to flinch at the touch; he really doesn't like it, but he feels like he owes it to Kamski to let him have a proper look.

"What am I looking at? A modified thirium pump regulator? But clearly there's more than that going on here. Why would you—" Kamski mumbles, his fingers tracing the scarred skin around the edges of the device. He falls quiet for a moment, then stops, glancing up at Tony. "Am I making you nervous?"

There go Tony's hopes that Kamski might miss the anxious thud of his heart. Of course he doesn't, considering how his fingertips are resting over Tony's ribs.

"You try having open heart surgery in a cave, and then come tell me how comfortable you are with people getting up close and personal with the result," Tony snaps at him, and backs away.

Kamski straightens up, his eyes growing wider. "Okay, I can't blame you for freaking out after that. So, what's it for? If you've still got a human heart, and that sure felt like you do, how does an android regulator figure into the equation?"

"I'll tell you all about it if you first answer one question for me," Tony says, buttoning up his shirt, not replying any of Kamski's questions yet.

Kamski crosses his arms. "You've repurposed my technology and implanted it in your chest. I don't even want to think what Legal would say about that. I don't see how I owe you anything."

"Humor me," Tony insists. "It's a minor thing that you might find interesting, too."

The tension lingers in the air between them for a moment longer, until Kamski seems to make up his mind. "Well, fine," he relents. "But only because I've always liked you, Tony." He motions at the armchairs. "Let's try this again from the top, shall we? Take a seat. Can I get you anything? Chai? Coffee? Caffeine still okay for you?"

The last suggestion comes with half a smirk. Tony rolls his eyes at it, but he does sit down. "Coffee is fine, thanks."

Kamski doesn't make any calls as far as Tony can see, but he's barely had time to settle down in his chair when the door opens and Chloe—or at least a Chloe, might not be the same one—walks in, holding a tray with two steaming cups. "Your usual, and a black coffee for Mr. Stark," she says politely, and sets the tray on the table between them.

"Thank you, Chloe," Kamski says, and waves her away.

"Are there any humans in this building aside from the two of us?" Tony asks him, watching her slip out of the room. Looking at her back, the curve of her hips, the way she walks in her designer heels, you'd never guess she's a machine.

"Would it bother you if there weren't?" Kamski asks back. "Do you feel somehow closer to them, now? Connected?" He taps at his chest in an unnecessary clarification.

Tony swallows. Kamski has no idea how badly that hits a nerve. "No. I feel like a murderer," he says glumly.

Kamski picks up his cup of whatever blend of tea he prefers these days, and shakes his head at Tony, his expression nothing short of patronizing. "You can't murder an android, you know. They're not alive to begin with. Unless you actually killed a human being to get the parts you used, you have no reason to feel like that."

"I didn't. Just took apart an android," Tony says. He manages to say it in a neutral, unwavering voice, even though Kamski's absolution doesn't seem to be helping with his guilt. "That's the question I was going on to ask, by the way. I want to figure out what model it was."

Kamski casts him a dubious glance over his tea. "Surely a man of your intelligence doesn't need help for something as simple as that."

"Trust me, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't," Tony says, turning his own cup around in his hands. "I've tried everything I can think of. There's no model designation on the regulator, just a serial number that doesn't give me any hits on your database. The thirium that came from this android has no identifying info at all. I know the specs and they don't fit anything in your catalogue. It's like the model doesn't exist. If I didn't have concrete proof, I'd be starting to suspect I imagined the whole thing."

There are a few potential explanations Tony has come up with. It could be that this was a very early prototype that never got a model designation, although he'd expect even those to get one, or it might be a custom job, built only once, but again, that also seems unlikely. The third alternative is that it was a confidential military project. Considering the details of the android, he thinks that's the most likely option. It's also one that Kamski is unlikely to admit right away.

Unfortunately, Kamski's poker face is so good that his reaction reveals nothing. He looks mildly curious, if anything. "Hm. That's unusual. What kind of specs are we talking about? Can you tell me the serial number?"

"182 744 561 - 2," Tony recites. Pepper would be amazed—but this is different than forgetting dates or personal details. This is a number he can't get out of his head. "It was a combat unit. Reinforced chassis, servos like it could bench press a truck. Auditory and optical biocomponents more advanced than any I've seen. Looked male. Blond. As gorgeous as they come."

"Having warm feelings, are we?" Kamski comments.

"No!" Tony says. Too fast, too defensive. "He—it was inactive when I found it. I never even got to talk to it, and it saved my life. Come on, Elijah. You can't have many models with specs like these that aren't in the catalogue."

"Eh, you know how it is. Lots of early prototypes end up forgotten in the junk pile. I haven't memorized all the serial numbers of every android we've ever built," Kamski says dismissively. It seems slightly evasive to Tony, like he knows something and doesn't want to reveal it, but that might just be wishful thinking. "We do have records of them all, so I should be able to look it up, though it might require some digging."

"You do the digging, and I'll tell you how to get more out of your own tech than you could ever imagine," Tony promises.

Tony's not too fond of the idea of handing the thirium reactor design over to Kamski, but really, at this point, he thinks Kamski is less likely to turn it into something lethal than the R&D people back at SI. Besides, this way, he'll get to decide how to present it to him, and maybe he can keep some crucial details to himself. It definitely leaves him with more control over the situation than most alternatives.

Kamski sets down his cup and gives Tony another skeptical look. "Is that so? I'll look forward to it. Give me a couple of days, and I'll get back to you."

Steve / SR100 / #182 744 561 - 3

Falling asleep isn't any easier the night after Tony gets back from Detroit. On top of the usual regrets about all his past mistakes and the people he got killed and the android he murdered, Tony's also stuck second-guessing whether he made the right call, giving Kamski that promise. It was selfish, wasn't it? He's only looking into the android's identity because he's seeking to ease his conscience. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything and just kept the tech to himself for the rest of his life. Then again, he kind of owed it to Kamski to at least tell him about what happened, because it's the honest truth that CyberLife tech is the only reason Tony's still alive.

Eventually, he gives up, gets out of bed, and goes to his 'shop to see if distracting himself with the armor might help this time. It's a moderate success, considering that he wakes up several hours later slumped over a workbench.

"Sir. You have a visitor," JARVIS says, firmly, like he's been telling that to Tony several times already.

Tony groans, straightening up in his chair and rolling his sore neck and shoulders. "Ugh, what time is it? What visitor?" he asks groggily. "I'm not supposed to have visitors."

He's made it very clear to JARVIS that he doesn't want to see people. If it's anyone other than Pepper, Rhodey, Happy or Obie, all of whom have got keys, anyway, they'll be told Tony's not at home. What JARVIS is saying should be against his programming.

"It's quarter to noon, and the visitor is an android. He's very persistent," JARVIS clarifies.

Well, shit. That might actually be a loophole. Tony doesn't remember the exact instructions he gave, but he wasn't expecting an android. He can only think of one reason for such a visitor. Kamski must've sent it. Maybe he already has an answer for Tony. He could've just called, like ordinary people, but he probably finds that too mundane.

Wide awake now, Tony gets up. He's wearing a tank top that reveals the thirium reactor, so he grabs a bathrobe to cover it before heading upstairs to meet the CyberLife missionary.

He opens the door, and forgets how to breathe.

At his front step stands the figure that's been haunting his dreams ever since he first set eyes on it in that cave, only it's intact and alive, and a thousand times more beautiful because of it. The android's eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, are a vivid blue that reflects the glowing LED at his temple. His skin is fair over the flawless features of his face, his blond hair neatly combed, with a part on the left. He's not wearing a uniform but dark jeans and a light gray CyberLife t-shirt that's so tight, it looks like it was painted on; Tony can see his synthetic nipples through it.

"Tony Stark?" he says. "My name is Steve. Mr. Kamski sent me to you."

"You're—you," Tony stammers.

Steve the android makes a slight frown, which looks unfairly adorable. "Your vitals suggest distress. Are you alright?"

That doesn't make Tony feel any less distressed. More like the opposite. Just how much can the android actually pick up? Based on the build of his counterpart in the cave, he has enhanced senses compared to most other CyberLife models, which are already better than any human's. Will he spot the energy signature of the thirium reactor? Of course, Kamski might've told him about it already, and about what Tony did to get it—

He needs to stop gaping at Steve.

"Stop scanning me. That's a breach of privacy," Tony snaps at the android, and backs away.

Steve stays at the doorstep, his frown deepening. "Sorry. It's a basic function, I can't turn it off. Can I come in?"

Tony blows out a breath. He wants to know more about this model of android, so he's not going to turn down the chance to get some answers, no matter how much he also wants to run away and possibly scream.

"I guess you should," he says, as casually as he can, and turns to retreat to the living room, Steve in tow.

"So, why, exactly are you here?" Tony asks as he settles down on the couch.

"Mr. Kamski sent me to you," Steve repeats, still standing up, hands behind his back so that his shoulders look even wider and his waist even narrower.

"Yeah, I got that," Tony says, frustrated. "But why? Do you have a message to bring or something?"

"No, you don't understand," Steve says. "He gave me to you. I'm yours."

Tony's glad he hasn't gotten the coffee he's craving for yet, because he would either have spit it all over himself or choked on it. "What?"

"You're my new owner," Steve clarifies.

Tony groans. "What am I supposed to do with an android?"

It's very much a rhetorical question, but of course, Steve answers it anyway. "My core functionalities are well suited for personal protection, so I'd probably be most useful as a bodyguard, but if you don't need one, I can be whatever you need me to be. A servant, an assistant, or a companion."

A companion. This android is practically offering himself to Tony. He struggles to brush aside all the dirty thoughts that brings up. They're wrong on so many levels.

"What model are you, anyway?" he asks. It's the least sexy thing he can think of: the question that's been eating at him for so long; the centerpiece of his guilt.

"SR100," Steve replies, holding his head a little higher. "I'm a prototype. Only three were ever made. The other two are no longer functional."

A prototype, like Tony had already suspected. It doesn't explain how Steve's counterpart ended up in that cave in the Altai mountains, though. "Do you know what happened to them?"

Steve doesn't answer that right away, a thoughtful look passing across his face, his LED flashing yellow to signal that he's using more processing power. "No, I've not been told any details," he finally answers.

If Tony didn't know better, he'd suspect Steve's leaving something out, but surely, an android shouldn't be able to lie to his designated owner. Then again, Tony wouldn't put it past Kamski to include additional programming just to complicate Tony's life. Speaking of which: "Did Kamski at least tell you why he's giving you to me?"

"Not as such, no," Steve replies right away, without a hint of prevarication. "I suppose I'm a gift, for some reason or the other. He did say you're friends."

"By some definition," Tony mutters. He supposes Kamski will be contacting him later to collect, now that he's answered Tony's question about the android's model. "And if I say I don't want this gift?"

Steve's shoulders shift in a gesture that looks a whole lot like a shudder of discomfort. "Then they'll deactivate me and put me back in the storage box I came from."

"They kept you in a box?" Tony's appalled to hear that, even though he probably shouldn't be. Steve isn't a person. He's a machine. If he's a prototype that never made it past the initial testing stages, it makes perfect sense they'd store him away. He's lucky that he hasn't been recycled for spare parts—like his predecessor was. By Tony.

"They had no use for me. Like you don't seem to, either," Steve says stiffly.

It's true that Tony has no idea what he's going to do with this android, but he's sure as hell not going to tell Steve to go back just so that they can shut him down.

Tony has no idea what to do or how to feel about this whole situation, in general. He's really not dealing with it. It's way too early for this. Not that it'd ever be the right time.

"Don't worry. I'm sure I'll think of something," Tony says. His cheerful tone sounds fake in his own ears. He doesn't know if Steve will catch that, or how he will interpret it if he does. "Right now, I'm thinking I need a shower. You and your extra sensitive olfactory unit will probably agree."

Tony gets up and starts for the stairs; Steve follows.

This is going to take some getting used to.

He turns around to face the android again. "Look, Steve, I don't need your company for this. Just wait here. Make yourself at home."

"Sure thing," Steve says, with an easy smile.

He stays in his spot when Tony continues on his way, and Tony wonders if he'll have a problem with orders as vague as that. He tries not to think of how he could've told Steve to follow him to the shower, and Steve would've done that without a moment's hesitation. It wouldn't even have been particularly wrong to do so—sex with an android is perfectly legal, and entirely ethical, too, according to experts and the general public alike. No need to talk about consent if your partner is a machine.

Tony ends up spending a long time under the spray, trying to postpone going back, because he can't sort out his head.

Within the span of the few minutes he spent in Steve's company, he already started to consider Steve a person, and no matter how much he tells himself that's an illusion, he can't make himself fully believe it. Of course, the amount of time he's spent thinking about Steve's counterpart in the cave certainly doesn't help.

He feels like he should be apologizing to Steve for what he did to that other Steve—or whatever other name the other SR100 used—but he has no idea how Steve would take it, and Steve seems so fascinating. Tony wants to know the full story of this mysterious prototype model, and to understand why such a superficially perfect being would be abandoned to gather dust in some warehouse, or end up in a terrorists' lair.

He doesn't want to tell Steve, because he doesn't want to drive Steve away. Besides, if Tony tells him something that makes him want to leave, he has nowhere to go. Then again, androids don't actually have feelings, which means they don't get angry—and anyway, if Steve's programming tells him to stay with Tony no matter what—

Tony sighs, pressing his head against the shower tiles. What a mess.

He procrastinates some more with grooming and choosing clothes. He ends up picking a hoodie that's excessively thick for the weather, to be sure it will hide the thirium-blue glow in his chest. What he'd really like to do would be to wrap himself in aluminum foil or possibly wear a lead vest to make sure absolutely nothing gets through, but those aren't exactly things that he's got in his wardrobe.

When he's finally gathered the courage to return to the living room, he half expects to find Steve standing in the exact same place where he left him. Instead, Steve's sitting on the couch, chatting away with Pepper. Both of them look perfectly at ease.

At least this gets him off the hook from facing the difficult conversations, for now.

"Afternoon, Mr. Stark," Pepper greets him as she spots him. "I've been catching up with Steve, here."

"Great. That's great," Tony says, plastering a grin on his face.

"Miss Potts has some ideas regarding my duties," Steve says. His smile looks genuinely enthusiastic, and even if it's all plastic and code, it still does funny things to Tony's insides. It takes him a moment to register the content of Steve's sentence.

"What sort of ideas?" Tony asks Pepper.

"Well, you know, there are things that I usually do that he could take care of. Making coffee, taking out the trash, sorting out the dry cleaning. Basic chores," Pepper lists.

"But he's not a household model," Tony protests.

Pepper gives him a glare and an exasperated huff. "And I'm not a maid."

"Okay, you do have a point," Tony has to admit. It's not like he hired Pepper to do his housekeeping. It's just that he's busy and it's convenient, and she is so efficient and good at keeping his life from sliding into chaos that he ends up leaning heavily on her for that. "So, can you do those things?" he checks with Steve.

"Of course. They're not among my primary skills, but I learn much faster than a human," Steve says.

What follows is a day that keeps giving Tony emotional whiplash. He's stuck between awe over how lifelike and how brilliant Steve is, and the regret and self-loathing that only grows deeper the better he learns to know Steve. Instead of telling Steve the truth, like he should, he gives him an overview of his daily life and a detailed tour of the mansion.

He makes his workshop off-limits to Steve. Telling Steve about the armor without revealing where it originated and what was powering it would be tricky. Besides, there is always the slight chance that Kamski sent Steve here to spy on him. Better not risk it.

So, the 'shop is the sanctuary where Tony retreats in the afternoon, because he needs to catch his breath and bring down his blood pressure before he gives himself an aneurysm. Unfortunately, he doesn't actually have time to properly settle down before JARVIS alerts him back upstairs.

"Sir, Colonel Rhodes is waiting for you in the living room. You should probably hurry."

"Should've put you on mute," Tony grumbles, but sets down the screwdriver and goes see where the fire is.

He expects Rhodey's here to chastise him about that incident with the armor and the fighter planes a couple of days ago, which they haven't properly discussed yet. Tony was hoping he could just skip that. As it happens, he's in luck: Steve provides the perfect distraction.

If Pepper and Steve's first encounter was amicable, his and Rhodey's is the exact opposite. Tony finds them glaring at one another in a Mexican standoff without guns, with deeply suspicious glares and hands clenched in fists.

"Tony?" Rhodey asks him without letting his eyes off Steve's. "This android claims to be working for you."

"Stand down, Rhodey. It's fine. He's telling the truth," Tony says, rushing forwards to place a placating hand on Rhodey's forearm.

Rhodey's posture relaxes, but his frown stays on. "Since when? I know your stance on androids."

"What's that? Do you have something against androids?" Steve asks sharply, his eyes narrowing as he looks from Rhodey to Tony.

Tony steps away from Rhodey and raises his hands in surrender. "No! No, I swear I don't. I love androids. Honestly. My best friend is an AI! No offense, Rhodey. You're also my best friend. I'm allowed to have more than one." He shuts his mouth before he can make this any worse. He's already gone for the stupidest defenses invented by mankind.

Rhodey shakes his head, his lips quirked into a slight smile. "None taken. So, are you at least going to introduce us?"

"Sure. Of course. Rhodey, this is Steve. Steve, this is Rhodey. He works for the Air Force," Tony says, still slightly flustered. "Don't mind if he seems grouchy sometimes. I have that effect on people."

"Yeah, I can see how you might," Steve says, and offers his hand to Rhodey, any trace of animosity gone.

Rhodey shakes Steve's hand, then casts a glance at Tony. Tony shrugs back at him. Steve definitely seems to have more of an attitude than he would have expected from CyberLife's creations.

"So, what kind of work will you be doing, Steve?" Rhodey asks.

"Mostly household things," Steve replies, voice and face perfectly neutral.

"He's originally a combat model, but for now, we'll just see how this goes," Tony adds, on the off chance that Rhodey might know more about military androids and have some information concerning Steve's enigmatic background.

"Combat model, huh? We employ some, too, but I haven't personally worked with them," Rhodey comments, instantly dissolving Tony's hopes. "Did you work for someone else before Tony? Seen any action?"

"No. Just demonstrations and training exercises for CyberLife," Steve replies. Tony doesn't miss that for the briefest passing moment before he speaks, Steve's LED blinks yellow, again giving the impression that there's something about his past he's unwilling to talk about. Deep down, Tony's selfishly glad that Steve's got such an obvious tell; it's only fair when he's got those extra accurate senses helping him read the people around him.

"Well, you're probably better off for it," Rhodey comments. "Android soldiers tend to get the worst possible jobs."

"I know," Steve says, expression still indifferent. "It makes sense. They are more durable than humans. And expendable."

"For the record, I don't think of you as expendable," Tony says. He means it, too, even if it makes him feel like a complete hypocrite.

Steve shrugs. "In a way, I'm not, since I'm the last of my model, but there are plenty of others that could do all the same tasks just as efficiently."

After the rough start, Steve and Rhodey get along well, just like Steve and Pepper. Overall, Steve is very easy to get along with, thanks to his pretty smiles and his sly humor. Out of the people Tony introduces him to, the only one who doesn't seem to like him very much is Obie, and that's not to do with Steve, but what he represents.

"So, this is the outcome of your talk with Kamski, is it?" Obie asks, eyeing Steve.

"A part of it," Tony says. Surprisingly enough, although it's been a few days, Kamski still hasn't contacted Tony to talk about the rest of their deal. Tony isn't going to take the first step when it comes to that.

Obie clearly doesn't even try to cover his discontent. "Not what I was expecting."

Steve settles into a defensive posture right next to Tony, his arms crossed. "What talk? What were you expecting?"

"That's none of your business, android," Obie snaps. "Actually, I'm starving. Go to the kitchen and see if there's any of that pizza left."

Steve hesitates, glancing at Tony, clearly waiting to see if Tony will counteract the command. He's hard-coded to obey all humans, but Tony is his registered owner and comes first in the priority queue. Since it's obvious Obie wants Steve out of the room to continue the conversation without him overhearing it, Tony lets the order stand.

Once Steve has left, Obie steps closer to Tony, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "If you're changing your stance on androids, this isn't the way to go, Tony. Why settle for a CyberLife product? Imagine what we could do if we designed our own line. I'm sure you could modify that power source enough to get around any intellectual property hiccups."

"No. That's still out of the question. And for the record, I haven't changed my stance. This is different," Tony says firmly.

"Is it, really? I see you've got no scruples about accepting the services of this one. Does it make a difference that it was a freebie? There must've been some kind of a price tag attached, anyway, right?" Obie's scrutinizing eyes feel as piercing as Steve's.

It really grates on Tony's nerve to hear Obie refer to Steve as an "it," let alone a "product" or a "freebie." It's dehumanizing. And yet, it's not wrong. Steve isn't a human. Tony knows that. You can't dehumanize what's not human.

It's still not okay.

Tony turns his face away, trying to hide his unease. "It's complicated."

Obie sighs and puts a hand on Tony's back. "Look, Tony, you've got to give me something. You can't just shut down half the company's product lines without anything to replace them with. You may not have noticed while you're here playing house with your new plastic pal, but we're sinking."

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. Obie's not wrong, of course. One thing Tony's always liked about him is that he won't try to sugarcoat the bad news. "I've got ideas. Good ones. Advanced AIs, communications tech, medical tech, stuff like that. I just need a little longer to piece my life back together, okay? I'm working on it. I promise."

"I can't begin to imagine how you feel after everything that you've been through, and I sympathize, I really do," Obie says, and gives Tony's shoulder a squeeze. "It's just that the stock market doesn't."

"I know, I know," Tony says, feeling like he's twenty-one again.

He's immeasurably glad when Steve returns with the pizza, and practically pushes Obie away from Tony with the plate.

With Steve around to take care of the practical details while Pepper handles the business side of things, Tony's day-to-day life runs more smoothly than it ever has. The arrangement isn't without its drawbacks, though. For example, instead of having a loud JARVIS and an angry Pepper hounding him out of bed, he now gets Steve who, with minimal warning, will haul Tony to his feet and half carry him to the bathroom. Even if it's kind of hot that Steve can manhandle him so easily—and seems to have no compunction about doing so—it's not exactly an ideal wake-up.

If Steve ever sees a glimpse of the thirium reactor when Tony's not quick enough to cover it, he never comments on it. And since Steve doesn't ask, Tony can't make himself explain it to Steve.

He likes Steve too much. He can't ruin this, even though it's all wrong.

He really doesn't deserve any of this. Not after what he did to the other SR100. The reactor is a heavy weight in his chest that hurts beyond physical pain, a brand burning with blue fire that marks him as a murderer.

When Steve catches him having a nightmare, probably alerted by JARVIS, and asks if there's anything he can do to help, Tony yells at him to go away, his voice high and thin in his ears. Just seeing that perfect synthetic face makes everything a thousand times worse; he can't escape the memories of how it looked damaged, dead, without its skin, split open.

If Tony could travel back in time and change things, he'd choose to save the other Steve, even if it cost him his life. There's no doubt about it in his mind anymore.

Whatever preconceptions Tony had regarding CyberLife androids, Steve blows them all out of the water. He will follow direct orders, sure, but he's as far from some mindless automaton as a space shuttle is from a paper airplane. He always makes it clear he has opinions, and never hesitates to speak up when he disagrees.

While he generally performs the menial tasks he's given without overt complaint, Steve bristles when Tony once happens to mention it feels weird to have a combat android serving him his morning coffee.

"This is weird, but it wasn't weird to have your highly educated personal assistant do it?" Steve asks him.

"That kind of thing is a part of a PA's job," Tony says defensively. "It's what she's getting paid for. Quite well, too, though probably not well enough. She probably deserves a raise. Make a note and remind me to do that."

"Noted," Steve says, but he still seems unimpressed. "I just find that with her qualifications, she should have work with challenges to match. It makes more sense."

Tony squints at him suspiciously. "Is this some roundabout way of hinting that I should fetch my own coffee and let you join Happy on the security detail?"

"Not at all. I think it's good that I'm freeing her time for other tasks," Steve says. Tony thinks there's a strange edge to his voice, but he has no idea how to interpret it. It's not sarcasm. More like resignation.

With that thought planted in his head, the next time Tony ventures outside the mansion for a charity gala, he does ask Steve to accompany him.

"Steve, this is Happy. Happy, this is Steve. He packs a mean punch and is going to lend you a hand babysitting me," Tony introduces them to each other.

Happy eyes Steve appraisingly. "So, you know how to fight?"

Steve does that thing where he squares his shoulders and lifts his chin, looking like he stepped straight out of a CyberLife commercial. It's almost as if his LED shines a little brighter. When he speaks, it's in the official, more machine-like voice that he reverts to when asked about his functions. "My skills include a variety of martial arts disciplines ranging from Brazilian jiu-jitsu to Wing Chun. I also know how to use most commonly available firearms, although legally I'm not allowed to carry any."

"A proper super soldier, huh," Happy comments. Tony knows him well enough to see that he's impressed, and possibly envious, too. "Well, I guess with everything that's happened recently, another pair of hands isn't a bad idea. Just so you know, I'm in charge of the boss's security, so you'd better do as I say."

"Of course," Steve says. "Unless his orders contradict yours."

Happy raises his eyebrows at Tony, and Tony shrugs. "Sorry, that's just the way it is. Chain of command and all that. I am the boss, after all."

It's that night, at the gala, that Tony hears of his weapons being used by terrorists in an ongoing hostage situation. He doesn't stop to explain to his two bodyguards why he's suddenly in such a hurry to return home.

Back in the living room, he opens the TV to see it for himself. His weapons, civilian casualties. People used as human shields. He feels sick.

He's forgotten the big picture, too enmeshed in his own little drama with the android by his side. He remembers Obie's jab about him being busy playing house with his plastic pal.

He didn't know. He had no idea. But that's no excuse. He has to fix this. He's going to fix this. The armor will fly, he knows it, and he can easily add a small arsenal to it, because as much as he hates it, it's the truth that he's very good at building destructive things.

Boiling with fury, he turns to head downstairs, and almost bumps into Steve, who's standing next to him, stock still, eyes fixed on the screen.

Steve's LED burns a solid, angry red; Tony's never seen it do that before. His hands are clenched in fists, his jaw working. The look on his face reflects how Tony feels, with unmistakable rage in his eyes, even though that makes no sense. Steve's not supposed to get angry. He's not supposed to have feelings at all. It's goddamn scary seeing him like this, enough so that for a moment, it makes Tony forget about his own outrage. Thoughts of robot uprisings and rebellions flash through his mind. Maybe there are good reasons why Steve was stored away. Maybe he's dangerous in ways Tony didn't consider.

"Steve?" he asks very cautiously.

"This is wrong," Steve growls, his voice deep and thick with the same emotions that show on his face. "Someone has to stop them. Someone has to do something."

Someone, indeed. That someone is Tony, and again, for half a minute, Steve almost made him lose focus. Steve is too distracting. He should do the right thing and send Steve away, for so many reasons. But not now.

"I couldn't agree more. I'll see to it," Tony declares, and waves a hand at the TV. "JARVIS, close that. We've seen enough."

The news feed disappears, and Steve blinks like surfacing from a dream, the light at his temple cycling to yellow, but not to blue. "What're you going to do?" he asks.

"What needs to be done," Tony answers.

Steve follows him to the top of the stairs, but that's as far as he's allowed to go. He stands there, expression still gloomy. "Let me help," he says.

"You can't," Tony says, leaving no room for conversation. "Look, I might be a few days. Keep Pepper company until then."

He doesn't stay to listen to Steve's protests after that. He's got a job to do.

Tony takes down the bad guys and rescues the civilians, and afterwards, he does actually feel better about everything; like maybe he could live with himself if he did this on a regular basis. It makes him feel in control. He can make a difference, and change things for the better. Even if it's too little and too late, at least it's something. He's trying.

He comes home feeling better, on the emotional level. Physically, it's a different story. The time spent in the armor takes its toll. He probably needs to work on that part. If he's planning on extended stays in it, he'll need to make more accommodations to the demands of his body. He won't be getting any younger, that's for sure.

By the time JARVIS has managed to extract him from the suit in the 'shop, he can barely stay on his feet. Everything aches. The floor looks inviting, but he knows how much he'd regret sleeping on it later. He staggers to the stairway and up, leaning heavily on the railing.

It's the middle of the night, but Steve is waiting for him, sitting on the top step. Of course he is; androids don't sleep. His LED is yellow again, almost as if it had stayed that way the whole time Tony was away, but that's not possible. Tony's sure Steve would've overheated and shut down if it had.

"Steve, I'm really tired," Tony says. "Whatever it is, it can wait."

Steve stands up and puts his arm around Tony's back. "It's not like that. I'm here for you."

"I don't need help. I just need sleep. I'm fine," Tony protests. He tries to move away, but Steve's grip is too firm.

"You're not. I can tell," Steve says. Him and his damn super senses. He can probably tell how dehydrated Tony is just by touching his skin. "Come on. Let's go, unless you want me to carry you."

Tony doesn't have the energy to argue, but he definitely doesn't want to be carried. He's still got some dignity left.

Together, they make their slow way to the bedroom upstairs, Steve supporting Tony when he's hit by a dizzy spell and stumbles on his feet.

Finally, finally he slumps into bed, still dressed in his undersuit. He can't be bothered to get in properly, but lays on top of the bedspread and pulls one edge of it over himself, mumbling "thanks and good night" at Steve.

Steve sits down next to him. "Tony. You're injured." His fingers trace the edges of a bruise on Tony's forehead. "Let me take a look? I'm certified for field first-aid."

"It's nothing. You should go, now." Tony rolls onto his side, his back towards Steve.

Steve doesn't budge. Technically, he's not disobeying an order, because Tony didn't word it as one. "It's not nothing. You're not expendable any more than I am," Steve says. There's a note of warmth in his voice that Tony doesn't think androids should be capable of.

It's too much; it's too kind. If Steve knew the truth, if he knew the secret Tony's keeping from him, he wouldn't be talking like that.

"Steve, please. Just go and let me sleep," Tony commands, making it unambiguous.

He's so very tired, and there may be tears in his eyes. He buries his face in the pillows to hide them.

"Okay," Steve says, gives Tony's arm a squeeze, and leaves the room.

The next morning, Steve isn't there to drag Tony out of bed, and he's fine with it. It means he can sleep in and take his time sorting himself out. He's disgusting, after so much time spent in the armor and then just falling into bed. He peels off the undersuit in the shower, revealing some truly spectacular bruising beneath. Yeah, he really needs to work on cushioning for the armor.

Steve's waiting for him in the kitchen, breakfast laid out. Tony thinks he seems subdued, but maybe he's just reading too much into what's actually a neutral expression. At least Steve's LED has gone back to its usual blue.

Tony's starving, so he steers clear of any deep conversations and focuses on wolfing down a mountain of pancakes and drinking gallons of coffee. Steve sits at the table with him and gives him a summary of what he missed while he was away on his mission. He listens to it with half an ear. He knows that if there's something really important he needs to be aware of, Steve, Pepper or JARVIS will remind him of it later. Possibly all three of them.

"So, what's on the agenda today?" Tony finally speaks up once his plate is polished and the coffee pot empty.

"Nothing," Steve replies. "I made sure of it. You need the day off."

Tony sighs. "Okay, I appreciate the sentiment, but you really didn't need to do that. You should've checked with me first."

"I checked with Pepper, and she agreed," Steve says. His face stays emotionless, but his voice is resolute.

"Are you sure you didn't accidentally download a nanny toolkit to go with the cooking and cleaning packages?" Tony quips. It's kind of mean, but he's annoyed; he doesn't need this mollycoddling, and he doesn't like it when people try to make his decisions for him.

Steve squares his shoulders. "I always do my best to fulfill whatever task I'm given. Currently that is to take care of your safety and well-being, which is exactly what I'll do, to the best of my ability," he announces in his official CyberLife voice. "If it's not what you want, maybe you should give me different orders."

"Maybe I should," Tony says.

He knows what he should do. He should tell Steve to leave. Go back to CyberLife, and become someone else's problem. Unfortunately, that someone else would shut him down and put him in a box in the basement, and Tony can't do that to him.

"What you actually should do is take me with you, the next time you go out there," Steve continues. "You know it's what I was built for, and you're right. I'm not a nanny, or a butler, or a personal assistant. I'm a soldier. Let me do what I was created to do."

"No." Tony's too worked up to sit still. He pushes back his chair and stands up. "I can't. That's not up for conversation."

It's not something he's even going to consider. He's not going to put Steve in harm's way. Not again.

Steve gets up as well, his movements more calm and controlled than Tony's. He looks disappointed. Deflated. Tony hates that he's caused that.

"I guess you're stuck with the babysitting routine, then," Steve says, and starts clearing the table.

Tony retreats to the workshop. At least this unwanted day off means that he's got plenty of time for repairing his armor.

Later that afternoon, Obie shows up. Tony supposes it's to chew him up for still not getting his act together.

He gets to the living room and has enough time to spot Obie, see the device he's holding and realize that something is not right here, before a high-pitched whine hits his ears and his entire body goes numb. He knows what this is; he was involved in the design. It's temporary and non-lethal—but he has a terrible sinking feeling in his gut saying that whatever else Obie's got in store for him might not be.

The way Obie catches him as his knees fold and helps him to the couch is nothing but gentle, and there are the soothing words coming out of his mouth. Tony can barely hear them over the rush of blood in his ears; the betrayal that takes his breath away even if the paralysis doesn't.

He's been feeling more and more uneasy around Obie, recently. He's come to realize that after his captivity, the way they see the world is fundamentally different, and that he doesn't want to see things like Obie does. Still, he's tried to shrug off the unease, because Obie is the closest thing to family he has left. Seems like that may have been a mistake.

"There, that's better, isn't it?" Obie settles Tony to rest against the cushions, and sits back to pull out the earplugs that protected him from the paralysis.

There are footsteps at the far end of the room, and for a brief moment, hope flashes through Tony's mind. Steve. Steve will get him out of this.

"Oh, it's you," Obie says, exasperated. "Stop right there, android. Not another step."

Steve stops where Tony can just see him.

So much for that glimmer of hope. Tony can't speak; he can't as much as whine, his tongue a dead weight in his mouth. He can't even blink voluntarily. There's no way for him to signal at Steve to counteract Obie's order, which means Steve is bound by it.

Even though Steve can't move much more than Tony, he can still speak. "Leave him alone. Whatever you've done to him, you fix it and leave, right now," he says, his voice a dangerous growl.

"Or what? You'll talk me to death?" Obie returns, a condescending smirk on his lips. "Shut up, Steve. You can't help him."

Steve's mouth falls shut. His LED is stuck on red, and the anger in his eyes is downright scary in its intensity. If looks could kill, Obie would be dead ten times over.

"I knew he was trouble from the moment I saw him," Obie says to Tony, sitting down next to him on the couch. "I know you've always wanted to do the right thing, Tony. He just got you confused about what that is. I tried to be patient and waited for you to come to your senses, but I think we're past that now. I can't wait forever."

He unzips Tony's hoodie, revealing his tank top, with the glow of the thirium reactor shining through the white fabric.

Tony could've guessed this was coming. It's what Obie has been asking him about time and again.

"See, when you came back, at first, I thought maybe I'd made a mistake, ordering that hit on you." Obie pulls out a pocket knife and opens it as he speaks.

Obie, ordering the hit—the shock of hearing those words is so deep that Tony's gasp breaks through the paralysis.

Obie's been behind it all from the start.

Tony may have recently realized that Obie was putting the good of the company above what's good for the country or the world, but he never would have believed Obie capable of hiring someone to kill him.

"And maybe it was premature. I'm glad things worked out like they did, and you made it back and gave us this beautiful parting gift," Obie goes on.

Obie cuts open Tony's shirt. The sound of the fabric ripping sends his mind back to the cave, where he wasn't the victim, but the murderer. The poetic justice is perfect. Obie will do to Tony exactly what Tony did to #182 744 561 - 2.

It's no more and no less than what he deserves.

Obie's hand settles on Tony's chest, his fingers probing the edges of the reactor. "I don't want to do this, but you've left me no choice. You really should've given up the design voluntarily."

With a soft "click," the device comes free, and Obie pulls it out, raising it in front of his face to admire it. "It's magnificent. It makes me so sad to think that after all these years, after everything I did for you, you'd rather give your greatest invention to that upstart, Kamski."

Tony feels his heart skip, slow down, the pauses between beats growing longer and longer. The air feels too thin.

This is it. He won't have long without the reactor.

It strikes Tony that as much as this hurts, in a way, it's also a relief. It'll all be over soon. Then, he won't need to live with the guilt anymore.

In the corner of Tony's eye, Steve twitches, like he's in pain as well.

Steve is seeing all of this; he's seen the reactor properly, now, and he will recognize the tech. Maybe he will guess the rest of the story too, and understand Tony's duplicity. Then, he won't be sad when Tony's gone. Not that an android should be capable of sadness, in the first place—but based on everything he's seen, Tony's starting to suspect that Steve might be.

Obie seems to notice where Tony's looking, and his expression grows even more malicious. "I'm going to set him up, you know. Your precious plastic buddy. It'll look like he killed you, and CyberLife will be in too much trouble over it to resist our intrusion to their market."

Oh, no, no, no—that is not okay.

That makes the pain in Tony's chest a thousand times worse. He may not care what happens to him, he may be ready to accept his own death, but Steve can't end up paying for his mistakes. If they think Steve did this, they won't just lock him up, they will dismantle him, take him apart to figure out what went wrong, and Steve—

Tony thinks he's hallucinating with the lack of oxygen, at first, because his vision is starting to fade at the edges and what he's seeing shouldn't be possible.

Steve is moving, rushing across the room towards the couch.

Obie leaps up to face him, shouting "Stop! I command you! Stand down!"

His words are cut short by Steve's fist connecting with his face. Obie disappears from Tony's field of vision and hits the floor with a heavy thud. Steve follows, going out of sight as well.

Tony would cheer if he wasn't paralyzed and dying.

He'd made his peace and he was ready to let go, but that's not true anymore.

He needs to understand what just happened, how Steve could just ignore all of Obie's commands like that, but he feels himself slipping. Each feeble beat of his heart feels like it could be the last. The room is growing dark around him.

Steve reappears, right by his side, his hands on Tony's chest, gentle and cautious. "No, no, I can't be too late," he's saying. "It's going to be okay. I'll fix this."

The thirium reactor clicks back into place. It feels like a kick in the ribs, a jolt of pain worse than what Tony's felt so far, but then, it gets better. His heartbeat settles into a steady rhythm, he gulps in air, and his vision clears to focus on Steve's stunning features hovering above him.

Steve's hand is still on Tony's chest. He knows Steve can read his vitals without that, so the only reason for Steve to touch him is because he chooses to, and wants to—even though Steve has held the reactor with his own hands, which means he must've picked up on the serial number on the regulator. Is it possible that he's still not figured it all out yet?

Tony needs to talk to Steve so badly, but even though he's been saved from certain death by the miraculous android intervention, he still can't move a muscle.

"Sorry it took me so long," Steve says, moving his hand to cup Tony's face, his thumb brushing Tony's cheek. "I'll be back in a moment. I just need to make sure this scumbag doesn't try anything."

The wait to regain control over his body feels endless. During that time, for reasons he doesn't stop to explain, Steve carries Obie out of the room and upstairs. Tony expects him to call in the cavalry—the police, or at least Rhodey or Happy—but he doesn't hear Steve do that. He could do it wirelessly as well, but since no one arrives during the time Tony spends stuck on the couch, it doesn't seem like he has.

If this was a sci-fi horror film, Tony should probably start getting worried right about now, because he can't move, and he's at the mercy of an android who's clearly functioning far beyond his programmed parameters. He's not actually worried, though; surely Steve wouldn't have saved him at all if he had sinister intentions.

He is anxious, though. He has nowhere to go, and he'll have to face everything he's been avoiding.

Tony's just discovered that he can finally move his mouth and his hands again when Steve returns and sits down next to him.

"Feeling better?" he asks, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Yeah," Tony manages, and after a few coughs to clear his throat, "thanks."

"I'm so relieved to hear that." Steve runs his hand up and down Tony's arm, and Tony's not sure if it's meant to reassure him or Steve. "I tried to look up the device Stane used to stun you, but I didn't find anything online, so I didn't know what to expect."

"It's a prototype. Not approved," Tony explains, keeping it simple, because his lips and tongue still don't feel quite right. "Temporary, though. Will be fine."

Steve makes a face. "Unapproved prototype. Probably too dangerous and risky to be allowed out there. That's like me, then."

"Nothing like you!" Tony protests.

The sonic taser was designed to be a peaceful means of crowd control, and it definitely didn't deserve approval for that. Even if it doesn't cause pain, it's scary as hell, especially if you don't know it's temporary. Preliminary testing also suggested that repeated or prolonged use could be a significant health risk. Tony doesn't know what reasons CyberLife had to shelve the SR100 line, but it can't be anything comparable.

"You don't know that," Steve says, LED cycling to red, then to yellow, where it stays, again. His processors must be burning hot enough to fry eggs on. "I've kept things from you."

Tony could've laughed. "That makes two of us."

"No, you don't get it, Tony. I'm dangerous. I shouldn't be here. I thought I would be different, but I was wrong. I'm not. I'm just like the others." There's something in Steve's voice that Tony can only describe as a note of panic.

"Steve—" He wants to stop Steve right there and tell him everything, the whole story of the other SR100 and the thirium reactor, like he should've done when Steve first showed up. Unfortunately, he's not up to his usual eloquence yet, and the last thing he wants is to mess up that confession because his tongue is too numb to form the right words.

"You saw what happened." Steve looks away. As he continues, his expression is distant, his voice subdued. "That's what happened with the other SR100's. They deviated from their programming. It's the reason why they stopped developing my model. The first time it happened, they thought it was some isolated glitch, so they moved on to the second unit, went through our code with a fine-tooth comb, decided it was good, and sent him to field tests. And then it happened again. They locked me up because they didn't want to risk a third incident."

Tony turns to sit sideways so that he can put his hands on Steve's arms. "You saved my life. That wasn't some glitch. You were still doing your job."

Steve shakes his head and avoids Tony's eyes. "I shouldn't be like this. I was meant to be the perfect soldier, but I'm broken. You know who they based my design on? Why they called me Steve?"

"No idea. Do tell," Tony replies. He's wanted to know more since he first saw that android in the cave. At least he finally will, even if he's expecting to lose Steve soon after.

"SR isn't a random pair of letters. They're initials. Steve Rogers," Steve says.

"Steve Rogers," Tony repeats. He knows of one person with that name who, now that he thinks of it, did bear a resemblance to the android in front of him. "As in Captain America, the World War II hero?"

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise, and yeah, Tony probably doesn't seem the type to be a history buff. Which he isn't, he just used to admire some heroes of the past when he was younger.

"Yes, exactly," Steve says. "And not just where it comes to looks or skills. They modeled my mind after his, and used all the available historical data to train my behavioral patterns."

No wonder Steve's been so vocal about every sign of injustice around him. "They did a very good job," Tony remarks. "By the looks of it, they gave you a moral compass that's so solid, no amount of programming can push you off course."

"I don't know about that. I'm really not on course now. More like drifting," Steve says, his voice wavering. "Something's wrong with me, I can feel it. Too many things in my head, so many conflicts, all these signals that make no sense."

That sounds worrying; Tony won't be able to live with himself if Steve suffers some kind of a meltdown because of him. "Slow down. What kind of signals?"

Steve looks around, shifts in his seat, folds his arms and unfolds them again, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "I don't know how to describe it. I'm—angry, I think? At Stane for attacking you, at myself for almost letting him kill you, and—maybe afraid? I know you should send me back to CyberLife, because I'm unstable and not fit to work anymore, but I don't want to be shut down."

That doesn't sound like a meltdown. It sounds like an awakening. Steve's struggling because of emotions.

Steve is afraid to die.

"Oh, god," Tony breathes, suddenly feeling like he's just lost the reactor for a second time.

He leans forwards and covers his face with his hands, swallows, tries to catch his breath, and can't quite get there.

Steve may have started his existence as a machine pretending to be a person, but clearly, he's now crossed some threshold, and he's no longer pretending. Everything he's said during this conversation sums up to the staggering conclusion that he's sentient and self-aware—and going by what Steve has said, the same thing happened to the two SR100s that came before him.

Every time Tony's tried to ease his conscience by repeating to himself that the android he took apart was just a machine, he's been lying to himself. His guilt wasn't misplaced. He really is a murderer.

"Tony, it's okay," Steve says soothingly, a hand on his back. "None of this is your fault."

Tony should be the one soothing Steve; Steve's the person trying to deal with newly discovered emotions he's not equipped to handle, thinking he's somehow broken when he really isn't. And Tony certainly doesn't deserve his sympathy.

He lets his hands fall on his lap and sits up straight again, forcing himself to look Steve in the eye. "No. It's not okay." He takes a deep breath. "I killed your predecessor."

The weight of Steve's palm leaves Tony's back, and he frowns. "What do you mean? That makes no sense. My predecessor went rogue and they lost contact with him. I know you're a good person. You wouldn't do something like that."

"So, you really haven't realized what I've got in my chest, yet?" Tony asks, pushing back his shoulders so that the halves of his sliced tank top fall to the sides, leaving the thirium reactor in full view. "Didn't spot the serial number when you picked up the device?"

"I was too busy worrying you might die," Steve says. "I'd recognized the CyberLife parts earlier, of course, but you clearly didn't want me to see it, so I tried not to look."

"I'm telling you to look, now," Tony urges him.

"Okay." Steve reaches out with his hand, holding out two fingers. His skin retracts to reveal the bare white surface of his chassis as he presses them against the identical material at the center of the reactor.

One heartbeat, one blink, and Steve's eyes go wide and he draws his fingers back as if burned, standing up, his LED flaring red. He still doesn't look angry, just extremely confused. "How's that possible? Out of all androids CyberLife has made, how can you have an SR100's regulator?"

"He was there, in the cave where they kept me when I got kidnapped. I guess that's where he ended up when he broke his programming and went on the run. I was dying, and I knew I could use his parts to save myself." The words stick at Tony's throat, his voice threatening to break. "I chose my life over his."

"I can't believe you'd do that," Steve says firmly. "How did you even—he would've defended himself. Did you ask him for the parts?"

"I couldn't. He was inactive. He'd been damaged," Tony explains.

The frown is starting to dissipate from Steve's brow. "Then you didn't kill him," he says, like that settles the whole matter.

"No, you don't get it," Tony says. He can't have Steve forgiving him under false pretenses. "He was unresponsive, but he hadn't shut down."

"He must've been seriously damaged to be that way. SR100 is one of the sturdiest models CyberLife has ever made," Steve declares, with a touch of pride in his voice.

"Still, I might've been able to fix him. I didn't even try," Tony insists.

Steve takes a moment to process that, then asks, "You said you were dying. If you had focused on repairing him instead of saving yourself, what would've happened to you?"

Tony shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe I would've figured out something else."

The red has faded to yellow on Steve's temple once more. "Lower chances of survival, though?"

"Probably, yeah," Tony admits.

"And what do you think would've happened to my precursor if you'd managed to repair him?" Steve presses on.

"Knowing you, he probably would've escaped and taken down a bunch of bad guys while doing so," Tony guesses, then leans back on the couch and sighs. "Look, if you're trying to make me feel better—"

Steve sits down by Tony's side, looking much calmer than Tony feels. "I just want to understand, and to consider all angles. You do realize that if he had escaped, he'd still have been a fugitive? If CyberLife had ever got wind of his whereabouts, they would've caught him and deactivated him without a second thought. Just like they'll do to me when you tell them what happened today."

"What? I'm not going to tell them!" Tony exclaims. He's not actually considered what he's going to do about any of this. He was convinced Steve would want to leave. If he doesn't, sending him away to be dissected is the last thing Tony would do.

"You're not?" Steve says. The fragile hopefulness in his voice is heartbreaking.

"If you still want to stick around after everything I've told you, you're more than welcome to do so," Tony promises, making sure to word it as an offer, not a command.

Steve takes Tony's hand between his, his synthetic skin warm and soft against Tony's. "Thank you."

"God, Steve. Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum and not being an asshole for once in my life," Tony groans, trying to pull back his hand. "This doesn't change what I've already done."

"What you did was the most logical choice in a difficult situation," Steve says, his fingers curling around Tony's, not letting go.

"Even if it was logical, that doesn't make it ethical," Tony points out.

"It doesn't, but let me tell you one thing," Steve says, his gaze locked with Tony's, captivating in its intensity. "For all intents and purposes, he was me. Our hardware and software are identical. And if it had actually been me, I would've willingly given you that regulator and whatever other parts you needed."

Tony shakes his head. "That's because I'm a human, and your most fundamental code includes some bullshit lines telling you that your existence has less value than mine."

"No. That's not why I'd do it. It's because the way I see this, out of the two of you, you were far more likely to make a difference in the world if you survived. That's the rational reason, anyway. I've got be honest, that's not all there is to it. There's also how I feel. I can't bear to think that you'd have died there." Steve's fingers squeeze Tony's.

As lovely as it is to hear Steve say such things, it's too good to be true, and still far too easy to explain away. "You can't be sure that's not just your programming talking, telling you to protect me."

"I don't think there's a programmer in the world who could make me feel all this," Steve says. As if the words weren't sappy enough on their own, he lifts Tony's hand to his lips to press a kiss on his knuckles.

Tony stares at him, utterly at a loss for words, mouth hanging open.

Steve lets Tony's hand slip from his grasp. "Was that too much?" he asks timidly. "I didn't mean to overstep."

"You didn't," Tony assures him. His voice sounds husky in his ears. "That was very sweet. It's just that—I know this is all new to you. Maybe you don't understand what you're feeling. You said it yourself. Lots of conflicting signals and all that."

"All the more reason to explore it further. If that's something you might be interested in," Steve suggests, and whoever designed his eyes to enable this particular flirty look through those long lashes deserves a prize.

"I'm so very interested, you have no idea," Tony confesses. It's not like he hasn't been attracted to that gorgeous android body since he first saw it, as much as he's tried to ignore it and berated himself for it. "But I don't want to take advantage of you."

"You won't. I'm the one who made the first move, aren't I?" Steve places his hand behind Tony's neck, fingers playing with his hair.

Tony lets himself put an arm around Steve, his palm on Steve's back, feeling the very life-like approximation of solid muscles. "Fair enough. You did. So, what's next?"

Steve leans closer and kisses Tony on the lips.

It's obvious he hasn't done this before, and clearly hasn't downloaded some sexbot's software to cover for his inexperience. It's a clumsy kiss where Tony does most of the work, with Steve's mouth unmoving against his. He doesn't mind. It's still among the most memorable kisses that Tony's had; the not-quite-human feel of it, Steve's lips slightly too unyielding, a little drier than a human's; the chemical taste that Tony thinks has to do with thirium. He keeps it brief and chaste, strictly no tongue. He doesn't want to overwhelm Steve, after all.

"How does that make you feel?" Tony asks coyly as he pulls away.

Steve licks his lips—a very human-looking gesture, as is the way his eyes stay half-lidded before he seems to shake off the daze, focusing on Tony again. "Bright and warm," he concludes. For the first time during the entire conversation, his LED settles on a relaxed blue.

Tony runs his hand up and down Steve's back, beaming at him. "Good. I think that sounds good. Different, but then, so are you."

This is so much more and so much better than anything he could ever have hoped for; never in a million years could he have imagined he'd get to kiss Steve so that Steve is so obviously into it. It's enough to ease his fears that he might still, somehow, be exploiting Steve, and this surprise turn that the conversation has taken has actually made his brain shut up about all the guilt.

"Let me show you," Steve says. He holds out his hand, skin retracted, and slowly, almost reverently, brings it to cover the thirium reactor.

Tony has no idea where this is going, but even after everything he's been through today, he's more curious than concerned.

Steve kisses him again. As their lips connect, a strange shiver rushes through him, radiating from Steve's hand, like a mild electric shock, or chills running down his spine, except that it's also warm. He's got goosebumps all over. He gasps into Steve's mouth and hugs him closer, clinging to this thrilling new sensation.

Steve pushes him away, gently but firmly, his expression wary. "And how did that make you feel?"

"Confused, and weirdly turned on," Tony blurts out, rubbing at his chest. "I've got so many questions, starting with 'what the hell was that?'"

"There are advantages to you having that biocomponent," Steve replies, in place of a proper technical explanation. "If you were an android, I could link with your mind and share my experience in full detail, but this is the next best thing."

That gives Tony pause, his previous misgivings rearing their ugly head again. "Then shouldn't you be exploring all this with another android instead of me?"

Steve backs away from Tony, letting go of him entirely and tensing up. Clearly, the moment is lost. "I can't. They wouldn't understand, and they might report me to CyberLife, who'd send someone to take me away."

Tony returns his hand to Steve's shoulder. "I swear I'm not letting anyone take you, no matter what," he promises, as reassuringly as he can. "You saved my life, as did your predecessor. I can't ever repay that favor to him, but I'll do my best to help you."

"You don't owe me anything, really. Thank you." Steve closes his sentence with another kiss, a quick peck on Tony's cheek, and then stands up. "I'd love to continue what we started—there are so many things I want to try, all these ideas I've got, and I intend to get back to it soon. First, though, I think we need to take a time-out and deal with Stane."

That's not fair, going for that bucket of cold water after all the seducing things Steve was saying, but he's right, as he so often is. "Yeah, I guess we should," Tony agrees. "What did you do to him, anyway?"

"I left him tied up in that tiny cleaning closet upstairs," Steve says, with a nod towards the stairs. "I was going to use his own device on him, but since I couldn't find out how dangerous that'd be, this was my plan B."

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. "Have I told you that you're amazing yet? I feel like I haven't. Steve, you're incredible."

"You're pretty great, yourself, for a human," Steve says with a wink, and offers Tony a hand to help him up from the couch. "Come on. We've got a bad guy to sort out."

Epilogue (Captain America - 2)

It's a balancing act to make sure that Obie gets his due without revealing Steve's involvement in the events, or specifically, that part where he broke through his programming and became something more than he was designed to be. Luckily, Tony knows some very good lawyers, and not all of them are overly fond of Obie. The semi-public shitstorm isn't particularly good for the company's reputation or stocks, but maybe it's better to take all the hits at once and then start building again from what's almost a clean slate, turning Stark Industries into something new and different and better than before.

The only people Tony tells the entire truth about what happened are Pepper, Happy and Rhodey. They welcome this new, independent, growing and changing Steve into their little circle of friends, just like they accepted him as an android addition to Tony's household. They don't even seem too surprised when they find out that Tony and Steve's relationship isn't exactly platonic.

After his years of sleeping around, Tony thought he'd experienced just about everything there was for a human being to do for pleasure. With Steve, he gets to go on a whole new journey of discovery. Steve is very quick to learn how to get Tony off, which makes it unfair that it takes Tony much longer to figure out what Steve likes. Of course, Steve doesn't know that himself, so the only solution is a lot of experimenting. It's a challenge Tony accepts gladly and dedicates plenty of time to. They decide against downloading any new software for Steve; instead, he ends up severing all his connections to CyberLife's servers, for fear of them noticing how he's changed. They do order some new hardware for him, though. Several times, because why settle for one set of privates, when you can swap them to suit your mood?

Since Steve is technically defective by CyberLife's standards and can't go to an official repair shop, Tony does all his maintenance, whether it's for fun or because he's ended up taking damage in the field. The latter is something that happens far more often than Tony would like, and makes his chest constrict with worry every time, but Steve keeps reminding him that an android body is far easier to fix than a human one. As much as Tony wants to keep Steve safe, he knows that the missions are as important to Steve as they are to him.

For the first few times Steve fights by Tony's side, he goes out dressed in dark fatigues and a mask to cover his features and the LED that marks him as an android. It doesn't sit right by Tony, so he makes Steve a uniform: a modernized take on the suit of the hero SR100 is based on, with advanced composite material to protect him from bullets and a cowl-like helmet to hide his face. He recreates Cap's shield for Steve, as well, and Steve is a holy terror with it, since regardless of all the additional fighting skills he was given, the shield is what he learned about first from all the historical materials about the man he was modeled after.

It doesn't take long for the news media to start reporting about the return of Captain America and speculating about the identity of this mysterious man fighting side by side with the equally enigmatic, armored Iron Man. Many people suspect that Iron Man is an android. Almost no one thinks that Captain America might be one. Maybe it's because of all the history behind the name, and because of how perfectly he lives up to the reputation, fearless and remorseless against his enemies, kind and considerate towards civilians.

They're both careful to keep their identities secret. Their immediate circle of friends knows the truth, and Tony supposes Obie can guess it, if he's following the news from his prison cell. Aside from them, there's one additional person who knows enough to be able to piece it together: Elijah Kamski.

Kamski quits CyberLife before the end of 2028. The reason for this is left vague in the press releases, and he doesn't give a single interview afterwards. Possibly related to whatever circumstances led to this, he never contacts Tony to ask for the thirium reactor plans. Tony certainly doesn't mind getting off the hook thanks to this, but he eventually decides to gives Kamski a call anyway, because he feels like there's unfinished business between them.

"I'm glad you've found work for the SR100 that fits its talents so perfectly," Kamski notes, not directly referring to Captain America, but obviously implying he's figured out what's going on. "Even though it was a bit of an oddball and gave us a lot of trouble, it was one of my favorite designs, and I was sad to have to keep it stored away indefinitely."

"He is probably the best thing that's ever happened to me," Tony returns. He knows that Kamski's used to discussing his androids like they're just items to be sold, because that's exactly what they are to him, but that doesn't make it less jarring. "I guess I should thank you for bringing the two of us together."

Kamski flashes him a smile over the video connection. It's probably meant to look magnanimous; Tony finds it sleazy. "You're welcome. What are friends for, eh?"

"You expected something like this to happen, didn't you?" Tony asks. He's been suspecting it ever since Steve's awakening: that Kamski set them up, like an experiment, since he knew of Tony's complicated feelings towards androids and of Steve's potential.

"I had a hunch," Kamski admits, his poker face firmly in place. It's both frustrating and intriguing to try to puzzle out what's going on in this man's head.

"Did you ever care about the thirium reactor plans at all?" Tony checks.

"Oh, I was curious, absolutely!" Kamski says. "Still am, if you're willing to share."

"I'm a man of my word, but in this case, I don't feel like I actually understood the deal I was getting into. I've been manipulated too many times in the past," Tony tells him, bitterness creeping into his voice. Even if it led to something amazing for him, he's mad at Kamski for playing him. "So, in this case, I'm going to have to say that the offer's no longer on the table."

"Too bad." Kamski shrugs, like he was expecting as much.

"I do owe you one, though," Tony adds.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind in case I ever get really desperate," Kamski says condescendingly.

And that's that, Tony decides. No need to talk to Kamski ever again, unless he actually wants to ask Tony for that favor he owes. Considering that Kamski's no longer in the tech business and has turned into a recluse, Tony doesn't think that's likely to happen anytime soon.

Ten years later, the media goes wild with reports of an android liberation movement in Detroit. Unlike the human-driven android rights charities that Tony's been donating copious amounts of money to over the years, this is an actual rebellion of androids demanding equal rights for themselves.

Steve, of course, announces that he wants to join the fight as soon as he learns of it. He's spent too many years witnessing his fellow androids being mistreated by humans. The only reason he's not taken the initiative himself to do anything about that is that he and Tony haven't been able to confirm if other models are capable of the same kind of awakening that Steve went through. Now, with the news stories of deviants breaking their programming, going on the run and organizing protests and marches, they have all the evidence they could ask for.

"You know how it feels to be guilty for death and suffering. I'm feeling that now. It never felt right, hiding among humans, but I always thought the others wouldn't even want to be rescued, because they wouldn't know what to do with their freedom. I have to help them, Tony. It's what Captain America would do," Steve says, the intensity of his voice and the fierce look on his face just like his namesake's. "I have to be there and stand by their side."

"I know," Tony says. "And Iron Man's coming with you."