Old Memories
Old Soldiers Never Forget: Especially their friends.
A/N
In which I DON'T KNOW IT'S six am and I'm SAD guys. So Tony and Steve and Dum-Dum because he was my favorite in the Cap's movie.
It's awful and terrible and mostly just supposed to be Cap missing everyone he'd known.
So yeah. Un-beta'd, written in one go, it sucks, pretty clearly. Just needed to get it out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dum-dum, they'd called him. Dum-dum Dugan, or, once, when fantastically drunk (well, everyone but Steve) Teddy Roosevelt. (He had liked to brag about his big stick.)
It had been hilarious. He, like all the rest, like Bucky, like James and Jim and Gabe, the rest of his team, he'd been more than happy to follow Steve into battle. Steve had always worried about getting them killed, but none of them had ever turned their backs on him.
Bucky had died.
Steve, after the raid on the HYDRA facility, well, he hadn't had a chance to see any of the rest of the team again. He wished he had- he'd wanted to tell them what they meant to him. Like he had never quite told Bucky.
When Fury pulled him out of the ice seventy years later, he'd assumed they were all dead. Everyone he could have known was, right? He'd done some checks, of course, but he'd never been good with science to begin with and google scared the hell out of him, so in the end, he'd given up.
Weirdly, one day, after Manhattan and Loki and all the crazy bullshit, though, Tony came in. Just waltzed in and threw some square thing at him.
"It's a Starktab, dumbass, just look at it. I'm trying to do you a favor."
Though he wanted nothing more than to just ignore Tony (last time he'd done this it had been an insistence they all go do yoga together, you see, because it would rally help Banner) he gave Tony yet another benefit of the doubt sort of looks and glanced at the screen.
And kept staring.
And staring.
"It's uh. A ways. Vermont, actually-" Tony was saying, but Steve couldn't focus on that, instead wordlessly hugging Tony and just saying 'Get the jet, we're going.'
"And what about Fur-"
"Fury doesn't have the right to tell me to stay away in this case." Steve had cut off Stark sharply, and Tony had sort of cracked a grin and gone off to get the jet as he'd been asked.
~~~~~
It was....a rather dismal place, considering it was a Veteran's care facility. Not bad, but laden with false cheer and hospital-smell. Steve really actually hated Hospital-smell, but he would suffer through it for this. Tony strolled along beside him, looking vaguely uncomfortable, but calmly asking where Sergeant Dugan's room was, and leading Steve by the elbow to a calm, quiet little room.
It was yellow. There were flowers by the bed, and it was clean and the windows were open. A corkboard on the wall held old yellowing black-and-white pictures on it, but Steve didn't see any of that.
He saw the old man in the wheelchair, hunched with age and looking out the window. In a bathrobe and pajamas, no less, almost stereotypically old-man-looking.
But Steve knew who he was. He'd seen him only a few months ago, really, kicking in a damn window at the HYDRA base and- "Dum-dum?" Steve whispered, pulling his coat tighter and stepping forward.
The old man hesitated, and Tony busied himself with looking at the pictures on the walls. A bunch of hokey old medals, and some propaganda from WW2.
Steve tried again. "Pri- Sergeant Dugan?"
The man lifted a hand, old and veiny and thin, too thin, in comparison to the ham-fists that had punched old Captain America's shoulders years ago. "Come in, boy." He said, and beckoned Steve closer.
Steve did as he was told- he'd always been a good little soldier, and he knew Tony was going to say something about that- but he knelt in front of the old man, took off his hat, and saluted.
Well, almost.
A fragile hand caught Steve's and stopped him. "You never have to salute to me, Rogers." Dugan said, wheezing.
Steve struggled for words. None came.
"I knew it was you." Dum-dum continued, struggling for breath after each word, like it was so hard for him to manage. His hand shook from where it rested on Steve's arm. He was...well, old, and for once, Steve began to realize just how long ago his war had been, and how different things were now. "I knew it was you, on tv, with the damn aliens. I told the nurse, but she didn't believe me. Thought I'd gone...gone..."
"Senile?" Tony offered, from across the room.
Steve wanted to punch him, but Dugan didn't seem to hear. "She thought I made it up. But I tol' her, I'll always remember Captain America. Fought with him, fought with Captain America in the big war...." he was panting, and his eyes sort of unfocused, but when he looked back at Steve's face he smiled, eyes lighting up with recognition. "Never forgot you, Cap..." He wheezed.
Tony turned back to the wall of old-timer shit, and examined it. Lots of World War two propaganda. Buy war bonds this, collect scrap metal that, oh-look-I'm-a-hero soldier picutres, and he gave up and played Farmville on his phone in the corner while he waited.
~~~~~
The Nurses rushed in later, after the alarms went off, but everybody knew it was too late. Sgt. Dugan had been declining rapidly for weeks, but he'd been holding out for some reason. They had picked a bad day to come, they explained, he was very ill, no living relatives, and could Tony tell them what had happened...?
But Tony didn't answer. Because he'd seen the way the guy had smiled at Steve and whispered something even he couldn't hear, but he saw the way the old man had grinned in the end, and Steve had crumpled in front of him like a deflated balloon, on his knees in front of some old guy in a wheelchair and clinging to the dead man's hand.
Tony Stark had watched Captain America break down and sob as the last man he had left in the world had died telling him he had been proud to have known him. Dum-Dum Dugan, like the rest of Steve's past, was gone, and all he could do was cry into his hands like a child. Captain America finally gave up and just mourned everyone and everything he'd lost for a little while.
Tony kicked the nurses out and stood guard outside the door until Steve came out, eyes red-rimmed and wet. He didn't say anything, just walked back to the jet in silence with the Star-spangled man, and they flew back to the Avengers Tower in almost complete silence.
As the Cap was heading back to his room, Tony stopped him, though. He just held out his hand, and Steve took the folded bit of paper.
It was a picture of all of them, horrible quality, wrinkled and faded and torn after seventy years, but Tony had figured a dead man didn't have any more use for it. And Steve had cried for him- Tony hated sentiment, but hell, the Cap was old-fashioned like that.
Steve blinked at Tony for a moment. The other man just shrugged, and left the room. Tried, anyway.
"Thank you, Tony."
Stark hesitated by the door. "For what? Typing shit into google? Steve-o, I keep saying, Jarvis can do all that if you just ask-"
"Not that."
"Oh." Tony didn't know how to answer.
Steve just beat him to the punch, and left the room, pausing just to clap Tony on the shoulder once. "I never got to thank them." He said simply, and tucked the picture into his breast pocket and left.
Tony cocked his head and watched him go. "Oh. That." Tony muttered to himself. "Yeah, Steve. You're welcome."
A/N
In which I DON'T KNOW IT'S six am and I'm SAD guys. So Tony and Steve and Dum-Dum because he was my favorite in the Cap's movie.
It's awful and terrible and mostly just supposed to be Cap missing everyone he'd known.
So yeah. Un-beta'd, written in one go, it sucks, pretty clearly. Just needed to get it out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dum-dum, they'd called him. Dum-dum Dugan, or, once, when fantastically drunk (well, everyone but Steve) Teddy Roosevelt. (He had liked to brag about his big stick.)
It had been hilarious. He, like all the rest, like Bucky, like James and Jim and Gabe, the rest of his team, he'd been more than happy to follow Steve into battle. Steve had always worried about getting them killed, but none of them had ever turned their backs on him.
Bucky had died.
Steve, after the raid on the HYDRA facility, well, he hadn't had a chance to see any of the rest of the team again. He wished he had- he'd wanted to tell them what they meant to him. Like he had never quite told Bucky.
When Fury pulled him out of the ice seventy years later, he'd assumed they were all dead. Everyone he could have known was, right? He'd done some checks, of course, but he'd never been good with science to begin with and google scared the hell out of him, so in the end, he'd given up.
Weirdly, one day, after Manhattan and Loki and all the crazy bullshit, though, Tony came in. Just waltzed in and threw some square thing at him.
"It's a Starktab, dumbass, just look at it. I'm trying to do you a favor."
Though he wanted nothing more than to just ignore Tony (last time he'd done this it had been an insistence they all go do yoga together, you see, because it would rally help Banner) he gave Tony yet another benefit of the doubt sort of looks and glanced at the screen.
And kept staring.
And staring.
"It's uh. A ways. Vermont, actually-" Tony was saying, but Steve couldn't focus on that, instead wordlessly hugging Tony and just saying 'Get the jet, we're going.'
"And what about Fur-"
"Fury doesn't have the right to tell me to stay away in this case." Steve had cut off Stark sharply, and Tony had sort of cracked a grin and gone off to get the jet as he'd been asked.
~~~~~
It was....a rather dismal place, considering it was a Veteran's care facility. Not bad, but laden with false cheer and hospital-smell. Steve really actually hated Hospital-smell, but he would suffer through it for this. Tony strolled along beside him, looking vaguely uncomfortable, but calmly asking where Sergeant Dugan's room was, and leading Steve by the elbow to a calm, quiet little room.
It was yellow. There were flowers by the bed, and it was clean and the windows were open. A corkboard on the wall held old yellowing black-and-white pictures on it, but Steve didn't see any of that.
He saw the old man in the wheelchair, hunched with age and looking out the window. In a bathrobe and pajamas, no less, almost stereotypically old-man-looking.
But Steve knew who he was. He'd seen him only a few months ago, really, kicking in a damn window at the HYDRA base and- "Dum-dum?" Steve whispered, pulling his coat tighter and stepping forward.
The old man hesitated, and Tony busied himself with looking at the pictures on the walls. A bunch of hokey old medals, and some propaganda from WW2.
Steve tried again. "Pri- Sergeant Dugan?"
The man lifted a hand, old and veiny and thin, too thin, in comparison to the ham-fists that had punched old Captain America's shoulders years ago. "Come in, boy." He said, and beckoned Steve closer.
Steve did as he was told- he'd always been a good little soldier, and he knew Tony was going to say something about that- but he knelt in front of the old man, took off his hat, and saluted.
Well, almost.
A fragile hand caught Steve's and stopped him. "You never have to salute to me, Rogers." Dugan said, wheezing.
Steve struggled for words. None came.
"I knew it was you." Dum-dum continued, struggling for breath after each word, like it was so hard for him to manage. His hand shook from where it rested on Steve's arm. He was...well, old, and for once, Steve began to realize just how long ago his war had been, and how different things were now. "I knew it was you, on tv, with the damn aliens. I told the nurse, but she didn't believe me. Thought I'd gone...gone..."
"Senile?" Tony offered, from across the room.
Steve wanted to punch him, but Dugan didn't seem to hear. "She thought I made it up. But I tol' her, I'll always remember Captain America. Fought with him, fought with Captain America in the big war...." he was panting, and his eyes sort of unfocused, but when he looked back at Steve's face he smiled, eyes lighting up with recognition. "Never forgot you, Cap..." He wheezed.
Tony turned back to the wall of old-timer shit, and examined it. Lots of World War two propaganda. Buy war bonds this, collect scrap metal that, oh-look-I'm-a-hero soldier picutres, and he gave up and played Farmville on his phone in the corner while he waited.
~~~~~
The Nurses rushed in later, after the alarms went off, but everybody knew it was too late. Sgt. Dugan had been declining rapidly for weeks, but he'd been holding out for some reason. They had picked a bad day to come, they explained, he was very ill, no living relatives, and could Tony tell them what had happened...?
But Tony didn't answer. Because he'd seen the way the guy had smiled at Steve and whispered something even he couldn't hear, but he saw the way the old man had grinned in the end, and Steve had crumpled in front of him like a deflated balloon, on his knees in front of some old guy in a wheelchair and clinging to the dead man's hand.
Tony Stark had watched Captain America break down and sob as the last man he had left in the world had died telling him he had been proud to have known him. Dum-Dum Dugan, like the rest of Steve's past, was gone, and all he could do was cry into his hands like a child. Captain America finally gave up and just mourned everyone and everything he'd lost for a little while.
Tony kicked the nurses out and stood guard outside the door until Steve came out, eyes red-rimmed and wet. He didn't say anything, just walked back to the jet in silence with the Star-spangled man, and they flew back to the Avengers Tower in almost complete silence.
As the Cap was heading back to his room, Tony stopped him, though. He just held out his hand, and Steve took the folded bit of paper.
It was a picture of all of them, horrible quality, wrinkled and faded and torn after seventy years, but Tony had figured a dead man didn't have any more use for it. And Steve had cried for him- Tony hated sentiment, but hell, the Cap was old-fashioned like that.
Steve blinked at Tony for a moment. The other man just shrugged, and left the room. Tried, anyway.
"Thank you, Tony."
Stark hesitated by the door. "For what? Typing shit into google? Steve-o, I keep saying, Jarvis can do all that if you just ask-"
"Not that."
"Oh." Tony didn't know how to answer.
Steve just beat him to the punch, and left the room, pausing just to clap Tony on the shoulder once. "I never got to thank them." He said simply, and tucked the picture into his breast pocket and left.
Tony cocked his head and watched him go. "Oh. That." Tony muttered to himself. "Yeah, Steve. You're welcome."