Avengers Assemble

“Influence.”

“Yes,” Steve replied, leaning back against the wall. Tony often spouted random words at him; the man would get to a point eventually.

“Oh.”

“Oh what?” Steve asked, mustering all of his patience.

“Vessel,” Tony replied, tossing a wrench on the workbench, his features annoyed.

“As in, the thing I’m about to burst? Get to the point!”

“Incentive?” Tony asked.

“I’ll come back when you have a coherent sentence. How’s that for incentive?” Steve turned and stalked back towards his room, irritated.

Five minutes. A new record. Tony tapped his earpiece with a smile, resetting his random word generator.

"Tony! You're cooking!" Wait, no. Just warming up leftovers, with that setting.

Tony ran over, putting his hand over the oven controls. "Don't turn it up!"

Steve frowned, bending down to look inside. "Tony... there's a hedgehog in there."

"Yes, well." Tony crossed his arms and leaned against the appliance. "I saw it in the snow while I was out walking. Just thought I'd warm her up a bit before tossing her in that." He nodded at a small blanket bed in the corner.

"Tony." Steve smiled indulgently. "You went for a walk?"

"Well... I was drunk," Tony replied, defensively.

Captain America had a oilcolor budget.

It was one of those things that Tony automatically signed off. Yes, painting was therapeutic, from everything he had read. Bob Ross, all of that. But did Steve really need this outlet?

Apparently so. When Tony came to visit, Steve was deeply engaged in painting. A painting of... Tony, as Iron Man, lying helplessly on the ground, surrounded by the Avengers,

"Does that make you happy?" Tony asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "Seeing me so helpless?"

"Not happy," Captain America sighed. "I just wish... I could have helped you sooner,"