Feel the Pulse

It was June 13th 2016 and Steve Rogers was detached, stupefied, anesthetized. He sat static early in the morning on the crisp leather couch Tony was so fond of in the Avengers common area; but his very marrow had returned to the ice cold depths of the Arctic. His eyes glazed over in the direction of the morning news and the words reached him through a muffling of horror. 50 people dead. 53 more hurt. And it all happened last night when the group of them had been relaxing around the tower.
The nights sky had been clear and there was no movement on the summer's air whatsoever Tony had been fiddling with one thing or another all night. He alternated between his many different phones and tablets sometimes lighting up a screen embedded in a tabletop or a wall so that he might follow the majority of the Avengers as they moved through the tower, always under the guise of needing to use that other device conveniently located in whichever room they all inhabited. Natasha had been explaining to Thor why all the ballette in save the last dance was mediocre at best while Clint nodded along with a mockery of the empathy Thor was truly expressing. Banner had shut himself away in any of the many labs or work spaces in the building. Steve just watched them all. His team. He didn't partake or do much by means of his own entertainment but he surveyed continuously, vigilantly. He kept tabs on their whereabouts and absently doodled the Avengers tower on a scrap piece of paper with a number 2 pencil. Not art supplies, just tools. The night had been so ordinary. It was almost too calm with everything that had happened since Ultron. It was as if the tension they had all been feeling for the past months had just evened out. It was peaceful. It gave Steve hope.
Not anymore not this morning. The pale off white coffee mug that was clutched tightly in Steve's hands started to tremor under the immense pressure of his grip. Steve's jaw was locked tight and his arms convulsed with his determination to remain restrained. He thought to himself that it wasn't supposed to be like this anymore. Since he woke up things had changed. Gay marriage was legal. The world had learned what Steve always believed, love is love. Then this happens. A man filled with hate and rage walked into a gay night club and gunned down innocent people. People like Steve. The mug shatters sending ceramic shards and cold black coffee in all directions. Steve was losing control and he couldn't let his team down. Only Clint and Banner were awake watching the news with him. Both men were stoic and dispirited like Steve but unlike Steve neither man had reason to feel personal targeted and neither knew that was how Steve was feeling now. Both of them looked pointedly at the mugs remains saying nothing out of pure surprise. Steve quickly made his way to the balcony or patio across the hall and with the door shutting away the news and the his teammates he let himself feel it.
Steve leaned his elbows on the cold metal railing and pushed his palms into his eyes trying to push the tears that welled up back from where they came. Yet they were determined and so they fell anyway pooling in the folds of his palm and running down his wrists as the rift in his chest torn further and further apart. The overbearing weight of the shock and despair pushed on his shoulders for nearly 3 hours. Occasionally an Avenger would stroll past the clear glass pane that served as a door but none dared open it when they saw that the Captain had not moved a millimeter since last they had checked. He receded into his mind replaying over and over every instance in his life where he had been in danger like the dangers faced last night in Orlando. He remembered the times he had been jumped, he remembered the men who had called him a fag while he lay on the ground with his arms wrapped around his own head protectively. Finally The most courageous and fittingly also the most reckless of the Avengers joined Steve on the patio. Tony stood casually leaning on the railing a few feet down from Steve at first saying nothing. He was in a crisp expensive suit rather than his band tees and jeans or lab clothes as Steve had come to understand. He recognized the grooming Tony had done and knew it meant Tony was going somewhere where there would be cameras. Then with his hands in his pockets and his sunglasses safely between him and Steve Tony spoke outwards as if directing the conversation to the vast expanse of city scape that lay before them in a seemingly unchanged morning bustle.

“I saw the news.”

What a simple sentence. What an empty combination of words. Steve's hands balled into tight fists on the railing, the first movement he had made since he placed himself here. He says nothing. If Tony were in Steve's position he would be lashing out. He would be drunk and damaging public property or just his own. He would be crying for help with reckless behavior and no regard for his own safety. Not Steve. Steve doesn't cry for help. Steve does not act rashly. He suffers in silence and it takes a person like Tony to see the similarity that lies underneath these actions. So Tony tries again.

“Ive actually been to Pulse. I met this girl there I think she said her name was Lola. I was a little surprised when I got her back to the hotel but I never let a good plot twist send me off the rails.”

The storm in Steve's heart gives way just a little at Tony's off handed acceptance of himself in all his eccentricities with humor. Steve can't yet muster a smile but he feels the pull in his brows soften just a touch when he replies.

“I’ve heard that song.”

“Really you’ve gotten around to The Who but you still haven't seen Star Wars?”

Steve shakes his head lightly not yet looking at Tony. Then the urge to do so hits him powerfly. When their eyes lock, Tony's thinly veiled by yellowish sunglasses, Steve speaks again.

“You have that shirt, the white one with the red white and blue bullseye. It reminded me of my shield at first so I looked it up. Found out it was a band. I liked Lola.”

Suddenly the weight of everything resettles itself around them and Steve's eyes are brimming with anguish again. Steve continued speaking now a well of words washing up from the pit of his gut; now that he had begun he was unable to stop himself.

“I hope there weren't any Lolas at Pulse last night but I know that's foolish. They were all Lola’s as far as it matters, people with lives and love and beauty to give the world. Innocent people. This was a hate crime Tony. It's not the first of its kind since I woke up and yet this is the first time it touched me personally.”

Steve stops talking all of a sudden realizing what he has almost said. There is a curious look just out of reach in Tony's eyes. The silence is tense and they are both as still as the stone beneath their feet. Finally Tony clears his throat and takes a lazy step backwards towards the patio door. He tosses his hands up keeping his elbows close to his body and speaks.

“I can see your processing this at your own speed and that's fine Cap. We all have to grieve. Fury wants us to speak publicly about this on the 10 am news. I can cover it with Natasha. We are about to head out now so I’ll just..”

Steve cuts off Tony's rambling with a sharp turn of his head and quickly bounds forward reaching Tony in no more than two super solider strides. Their chests almost touch when Steve speaks down into Tony's face with a ferocity seldom seen from him.

“I’m going to be the one.”

A half an hour later Steve is standing on a quick makeshift stage no more sturdy than a parade float that has been erected in Time Square. Projected onto all of the screens on the surrounding buildings is the image of Captain America in full uniform standing behind a microphone. Who ever had set this up had made the tacky decision to place a mock vintage microphone in front of him. It was large and circular and it looked heavy. There was an enormous gathering of people and news vans readying for Captain America's statements. There were people dressed in pride colors and others holding signs that spoke of God's will as if they had a special intimate knowledge of the all powerful. Steve was having trouble getting into character. He didn't usually have to put on airs for his patriotism and honor but today wasn't just any day. Today he stood there as Steve Rogers small and frail, no matter how hard he tried to be Captain America for the cameras, for his team, for the world he just wasn't.
When the crowd was finally quieted and the Cameras all blinked red at him he cleared his throat and pulled in as much air as he could through his nose. With his chest expanded he paused. He wasn't ready to speak, didn't know what to say. His mind was blank. The teleprompter was rolling but it was gibberish to him. His mouth hang slack and his chest constricted and the noise that passed his lips was strangled. His shoulders pulled down and he folded his hands around the microphone focusing intently on the weaving of its metal.

“I’m sorry..”

Steve murmured so softly it was barely picked up by the microphone and the tension that vibrated through the air cut like a knife when the large wet eyes of America's Hero reemerged in view of the cameras and thus everyone. The shake that came to his voice now could be felt over distances greater than the country that was his name sake.

“Last night ….Last night in Orlando Florida ..”

Steve stops speaking seemingly unable to swallow for a moment and the pain that pulses in the crowd before him was almost unbearable. Captain America was wounded and no one knew what to do. No news station dare interrupt the live feed with commercials or news anchors giving updates. Every station stayed patiently waiting as Captain America gathered himself to speak again with a difficulty unfamiliar to even his teammates. He tries again.

“ When I woke up. When I was reaquainted with what it means to be an American I was so proud… I was so so appreciative of the changes I was coming to know. There were no longer different restrooms and entrances for Black Americans, there were Women in high Government jobs, and there was marriage equality. I woke up and I thought. This is it. We’ve done it. We are free.
I saw men walking through the park hand in hand, I saw people on television who in my day would have been beaten or imprisoned, I saw an episode of Ellen and as simple as that may seem I was just... so.. overwhelmed with gratitude because even if there was still a closet. Even if there were still people who kept their sexual preference to themselves it was their choice it wasn't forced upon them, they had a choice. ……. But…..”

Steve looks down when emotion constricts his throat yet again and the words he seeks are too elusive. He waits a long moment and continues in a broken jagged whisper.

“I was wrong. We aren't safe. We aren't free.”

It is quiet for a long time. No one's sure if Steve is done speaking and none wants to be the first to try and speak if he's not. The world is balanced on the tip of a knife and everyone waits for Captain America to turn this around, to lift them up, to make them feel better. Captain America is always the delivery boy for hope but today he isn't. Today he grieves publicly and the shock it causes is immense. The despair in everyone's hearts washes around freely like stormy waves on the ocean and Steve feels cold. Steve feels frozen. He can almost see the cold metal walls of the air carrier that had surrounded him when he plunged the plain into to frigid waters. He almost longed for the numbness now. He pulls his shoulders back and looks to his left. Off the stage at the base of the stairs Natasha and Tony stand looking at him with big inquisitive eyes. Like blinking would sacrifice data that they needed to be gathering. Finally one reporter raises his hand and calls out.

“Captain?”

Steve says nothing just tilts his head towards the man as permission to talk and he does hesitantly.

“When you say we….”

Steves face is stricken with a deep rage for only the briefest flash of a second before it is intent and challengingly stoic. He leans his face close to the microphone and without wavering his gaze a hair his voice rumbles deep and booming over the crowd.

“Captain America is gay.”

The crowd ruptures and suddenly every reporter is shouting at Steve. They all vigorously wave their hands in the air as a group of six men in black suits rush briskly onto the stage to bustle Steve off and into the back of a mercedes SUV. The kind of audacious and impractical vehicle only shield or Tony would own. Since it was white the more likely choice is Tony. Steve's suspicions are confirmed when the doors close behind him and he is faced with a very worried looking Natasha and a downright smug looking Tony. Tony speaks first.

“I gotta say that was a hell of a press release. That nearly beats my Iron Man announcement. I say nearly because everyone had spent the last few months believing I was dead so I kinda had one up on you in the surprise element but that was impressive really champ.”

Steve's heart is pounding. He had just done something major something that you can never undo but of course Tony would brush that off and focus instead on the showmanship of the thing. Steve actually smiled, a small smile but one nonetheless.

“Really Tony ? Were you surprised? Wasn't it you who went on and on at Christmas about how accurate your ‘gaydar’ is?”

“I have no such memory. Did we serve alcohol at this party you speak of?”

“We sure did.”

Natasha exasperated voice pushes into the conversation for the first time effectively pulling Steve's attention away from Tony. the three of them bounce along in the back of the SUV the tinted windows so dark that you almost can't see the buildings passing by. Steve suspects them to be bullet proof maybe even missile proof. For Tony to ride in the back of any vehicle was unheard of. That is until Steve realizes the car is driving itself.

“But Steve are you okay?”

The turnaround of the conversation makes Steve sorrow rear up again but he has less trouble pushing passed the feeling this time.

“Yeah .. yeah I’m okay Nat. Thank you.”

“Are you sure? Because you just announced to the whole world that you're gay or something other than straight I guess and you didn't warm up to it at all. You didn't test it out, see the reactions of your friends. You just went full Tony and frankly I have no idea what to think about that. Should I be worried?”

Natasha voice stayed on an even keel keeping an almost uninterested tone but her eyes and words conveyed something much deeper. Natasha was planting herself an alley at Steve's side and now he smiled fully. There was a lightness to seeing her unquestioning acceptance and unwavering loyalty. His team was the one thing he had to loose and without them he would be purposeless.

“Don't be worried.”

The back doors of the vehicle are flung open and Clint stands in the flood of light with one arm on each door practically exploding with energy.

“Captain. Fucking. America you ...you…YOU...”

Steve tensed himself for the anger. He waited for the swing of Clint’s first or the stab of his venomous words but he found himself instead wrapped in a warm manly embrace.

“ BEAUTIFUL GODDAMN CHAMPION OF A MAN!”

“Language.”

Steve scolded Clint out of habit staying perfectly still in the embrace feeling a warm color in his cheeks. He had no interest in Clint but this is the first physical contact he has had since his announcement and he can't help feeling exposed.

“Still the same old Cap”

Dr. Banners voice is soft and affectionate from the garage door. He wanders over slowly coughing when Clint still hadn't released Steve. Clint drops his arms and claps his hands together childishly.

“I vote we celebrate with cake! Oh Oh or Ice Cream with rainbow sprinkles on account of how GAY Captain America is. OH I know let's get birthday cake ice cream. It's like having both cake and ice cream.”

Steve shakes his head affectionately fastening and unfastening his gloves intently. He sighs and looks passed Clint's shoulder at the walls instead.

“Look I appreciate the gesture Clint but I’m not really feeling like celebrating today. I think I want to take a little trip to Orlando if that's okay with you guys...”

The following week’s news coverage is all over the spectrum. Some stations like Fox news flat out deny Steve's sexuality all together, they sight his previous relationship with Peggy as proof that Steve was lying. That he was trying to bring everyone together after the attack. Others did not agree. Captain America was known for honesty and so the other end of the reporting revolved around a photo that had surfaced. One that was now up for some sort acclimation or award. It was of Steve and Tony at the scene of the Orlando shooting just hours after Steve's press release. It's black and white and in it Steve stands limp against a doorway. His arm stretched over his head that hangs limply on his neck. He looks defeated and it's obvious the door frame is all that hold him up right in that moment. The broken caution tape flaps freely in the breeze and Tony Stark stand behind him with one hand clasped on his shoulder. Tony looks off in the other direction with his brows pulled together and his free hand loosening his tie. That moment for Steve had been one of the hardest in his life. He had spent a lot of time quietly watching the city from the patio this week. Unmotivated to do much else.

Of course most of the more credible websites and newspapers choose to focus on the photographer and his career whereas the tabloids and the click bait speculated on the men's relationship.

“Is Captain America Tony Stark's newest conquest?”

“Cap and Stark Embrace at Pulse nightclub Shortly after Caps coming out”

“CAPS GAY! Shocking Photos from Orlando and more”

It went on and on. People began coming forward reporting anonymously that they had been part of Tony's homosexual experimentation in college. Steve tried not to think about how young Tony was in college. Tony mostly shrugged not bothered enough to address the validity of the claims. Steve felt like his skin was crawling though. This was his life now. Every handshake every time he's seen with another man the headlines are going to speculate just how friendly the relationship gets behind closed doors and Steve isn't sure he can handle that kind of attention. Tony was spending more and more time with Steve. Keeping him distracted even instructing Jarvis to block him from checking up on any news involving his sexuality. Once Steve gave up obsessing over the public opinion things actually started feeling normal again.

Then one morning in August after Steve had made a visit to one of the victims of the Orlando shooting it all changed again. He had been visiting a man whose home had been NYC and when he had been wounded badly enough to need long term treatment at a hospital he made the decision to move to one closer to his parents and loved ones rather than stay in FLorida. He had lost his husband in the shooting. Steve had been visiting him every weekend for months. This time he had brought Tony along. He had been deflecting questions about where he went every Saturday and with the way Tony had been watching Cap it was pointless trying to keep it from him. Tony always got what he wanted. Steve had given in that morning when Tony confronted him in the kitchen and he had told Tony that he just needed to go alone. Tony had insisted that was ridiculous and followed Steve the whole walk there.

Enrique, that was the man's name, he was smiling in a knowing way when Tony followed in after Steve. He never commented on Tonys presence though and Tony let Steve do his thing without interrupting him or rushing him at all. When Steve was finally ready to leave there were swarms of reporters outside. Steve may have gone in unnoticed but Tony doesn't do anything unnoticed and Steve's gut sank. They put their heads down and head out into the crowd surrounding the hospital entrance. There are flustered nurses and security guards seemingly attempting to clear the emergency drop off area of pedestrian traffic without much luck. Steve feels frustration towards the rabid nature of these reporters. The disregard for public wellbeing. Pushing passed the reporters silently Steve comes across three kids seemingly all unrelated to each other. One looks defiant in his stance as he says

“If Captain America wants to be gay he can be!”

The two other kids laugh mercilessly together. Then the larger of the two the clear leader speaks mockingly.

“No Captain America can't be gay he just can't. He believes in Jesus and my dad says he was in love with that lady in that war 200 years ago.”

Steve almost wants to laugh at the bullies logic but instead he clears his throat deliberately getting all the kids attention. They all look at him slack jawed and wide eyed and Steve puffs out his chest, really hamming it up for the swarm of reporters still snapping photos all around them. Tony shifts from one foot to the other his eyes darting around the scene nervously.

“Cap I think we should ignore the twerps and get some nice scotch at the tower.”

Steve waves off Tony's words over his shoulder and crouches down to eye level with the smallest kid, the one who defended him.

“What's your name?”

The young kid looks terrified but they answered respectfully.

“Its N-Noah Sir.”

“Well Noah How would you like to be an honorary Howling Commando?”

Steve takes the silver star pinned to the right breast pocket of his suit coat and attaches it to the boys Tee-shirt. The medal had been given to him for an act of valor but Steve wanted Noah to have it. He wanted Noah to always stick up for what he thinks is right, besides Steve was never very fond of his medals. Noahs small little voice nearly breaks Steve's heart.

“Me? Why me? I’m just a sick kid. I can't even take gym class.”

Steve's mind flashed with images off his days in bed. His asthma and his immune system keeping him from attending school or doing much of anything except draw and read. Steve tells Noah about it. Tells him all about his health before the serum and how hard he had to try to get enlisted.

“And Noah you're a Howling Commando like me because you're Brave. So very Brave.”

Steve's holding Noah by the shoulders now and both of them are so caught up in their moment that the camera flashes are lost in the background. Steve stands tall and turns to leave but freezes when he hears the smaller of the two bullies speak for the first time.

“I still think it's an act. Like a publicity stunt.”

The two little punks had their arms crossed and they looked like they smelled something awful. Steve wasn't sure why he was letting a child provoke him like this but he was just so tired. He was tired of the papers speculating on his honesty. He was tired of fake ex lovers calling into radio shows to explain how they had been Steve's first after waking up and finding out about Gay marriage. Those stories in particular angered Steve because they disregard the risks Steve had to take back in the 40s when things like Gay clubs and communities were shrouded in secret it was all conducted with special slang and hidden gatherings. Steve stood tall eyeing the ravenous crowd ferociously before deciding that he would give them a stunt if that's what they wanted. He turned grabbing an unsuspecting Tony by the collar and pulling him in. Steve mashed his lips to Tony's muffling the surprised eep that tried to escape. Tony quickly stops struggling and eventually even places his hands along either side of Steve's face. When Steve finally pulls away he doesn't loosen his grip at all. He keeps his forehead pressed to Tony's while his chest heaves. Tony looks as bewildered and flustered as Steve feels but there is something raw and beautiful in his big chocolate eyes. His lips are swollen and flushed and Steve licks his lips absently. He hadn't kissed anyone like that in a long time. Never in the open like this. Never in front of people with cameras. Steve felt wild and free and brash. A Smile split across his face the longer he looked at Tony.

“Steve…..?”

The name sounds so sweet rolling off Tony's lips and Steve suddenly thinks he wanted to do this for a while. He just noticed it for the first time now.

“I’m sorry Tony I just had a little something to prove.”

The flashing cameras and chaotic voices are miles away when Tony replies.

“Are you sure you've made your point . Maybe you should do that again really drive it home.”

Noah’s parents come rushing up and they grab his hands roughly. They shoot dirty looks in the direction of the two entangled men as they usher Naoh forward.

“Norah sweety. You can't run off like that. You know mommy and daddy worry about their little girl.”

Steve's full attention is back on the child and he watches his face realizing fully that Noah or ‘Norah’, As their parents seem to believe, is transgendered. Their parents didn't seem to know or accept this idea and Steve's heart twists like a knife blade. He locked eyes with the kid and they smiled at Steve before mouthing thank you and following their parents dutifully a hint of a smile still on their lips. Steve's heart had climbed into his throat and Tony's voice was all he could hear.

“Wow. Is it just me or did we just meet the coolest transgendered 10 year old on the planet.”

“I think we did. I can't tell who was teaching who.”

Tony snorted

“Are you kidding you're that kids whole world Steve. He relates to you on a lot of levels.”

Steve wipes at his forehead feeling a little overwhelmed by the crowd suddenly. He and Tony push through and when they finally make it back to the Tower Clint is tossing explosives in the air and Thor is detonating them by hitting them with his hammer. They claimed it is the Avengers version of fireworks. Rhodey is using his wings to sky write above their display. It simply states ‘Super Boyfriends’ and Jarvis is using the loudspeaker to play Lady GaGa’s born this way much louder than is necessary. Steve gently places his hand between Tony's shoulder blades.

“Maybe we have some things to talk about?”

The hopefulness in Steve's expression takes Tony's voice away so he just nods awkwardly before letting himself be guided back inside.