Chapter Text
Rogers’ reveal makes front page news and blows up social media for a while, but he makes very few additional statements besides the ones he’s already made. As expected, the reveal breeds a whole subcategory of outraged statusists that take to the internet to rant about ‘the omega agenda’ and such, but it also garners a lot of support.
“This is just amazing,” an omega rights activist says with tears in his eyes while being interviewed on TV. “Captain America is such an important role model, and his history of being respected as an alpha proves that omegas and alphas should be treated the same.”
Rogers does his best to offer support to various omega rights groups while also trying to keep his involvement as private as possible.
“I’m not doing this for the press,” is all he says when asked.
As with all things, the internet can only focus on so many things at once, and eventually, the immediate media frenzy begins to die down. Tony is pretty sure that this reveal is going to go down in history (how could it not), but life begins to slowly fall back into something close to normal.
Which means that Rogers is tense around him again.
It’s actually rather irritating because no matter what he tries, the Captain always seems to be slightly on edge around him. Some days, it’ll hardly be noticeable, and he’ll forget about it for a while, but other days, he swears the Captain actually leaves the room when he comes in.
One time, in the week or so before he’d learned about the Captain’s status, he’d invited him down to his lab to redesign his suit (and hopefully maybe grow closer or something). Rogers’ had come down, but he’d looked practically nauseous upon arrival and had only started to relax some 15 minutes after JARVIS had scanned him for his measurements.
And the problem is, Tony doesn’t know why. Oh, he knows they’d clashed on the Helicarrier, but he’d kind of thought that they were past that, and he’d been doing his best to avoid offending the man. He even swore less for heaven’s sake! But no. No matter what he did, the Captain always seemed to hold a measure of dislike towards him and it was driving him insane.
Why did he even agree to come move here if he hates it so much? Tony scowls as he pours another shot of whiskey into his glass from his place in the common room bar. He probably shouldn’t be drinking this early in the morning, but hey, he hadn’t slept well last night, and he was grumpy okay?
The elevator doors to the common room ding open and lo and behold, who should come in but the focus of Tony’s current ire, the Captain himself.
Tony’s hand tightens on his glass as something in the Captain’s stance seems to stiffen as he catches sight of him, before he starts making his way towards the common room fridge. Silence sits over the room like a blanket while Rogers grabs a carton of juice from the fridge and a glass from a cupboard. He drinks the juice all in one go before setting the glass in the sink with a definite clink and turning back towards the elevator doors.
He probably wouldn’t have done it if he’d gotten a full night’s sleep. He probably wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t already have a few glasses of whiskey already circulating in his system, but the sight of Rogers’ tense shoulders as he turns to leave the room seems to push back whatever self-control Tony had been holding on to.
He takes a swig from his glass and sets it down with a clack of glass on marble. “So, what is it?” he asks bitterly and the retreating shoulders pause to turn back and look at him.
“I’m sorry?” Rogers says, his frame no less tense as his eyes scan him.
Tony’s stomach sours and he waves a hand. “What is it?” he asks again. “The reason you hate me. Is it the weapons? It’s usually the weapons.” Silence falls again as Rogers stares at him and Tony takes another drink.
“I don’t… hate you,” Rogers finally answers after a moment.
Tony huffs out a disbelieving laugh, leaning forwards as he does so before looking back up at the Captain. “Really?” he drawls, lazily waving his glass. “’Coz you could’ov fooled me Cap.”
Rogers stares at him again, his throat flexing while the rest of his body remains completely motionless. Tony is beginning to feel vaguely uncomfortable before the Captain’s eyes dart about and he seems to nod to himself. His lips press together as he comes closer and settles himself on a barstool across from him.
His face is austere, and Tony is beginning to realise that he might have accidentally triggered a more serious conversation than he had been prepared for. Rogers clasps his hands in front of him on the counter and stares at them for a second before looking back up at Tony. His eyes skitter away for a moment and his lips press together again.
“I didn’t mean…” He swallows and focuses his gaze somewhere to the left of Tony’s face. “I didn’t mean to make you so uncomfortable,” he says after a moment. “I know I’ve been… different around you but—”
He breathes in slowly through his nose and squeezes his clasped hands together. “It’s not really… it’s not really… something…” He clenches his teeth together and looks down at his hands. “It’s nothing you did,” he explains quickly. “You didn’t do anything. It’s not your fault.”
Tony stares at him, the glass in his hand forgotten for the moment. “…Okay?” he says squinting uncertainly. So Rogers was admitting that he’d been weird around him. At least he hadn’t been making that up or something.
Rogers ducks his head and huffs slightly before looking back up at Tony, the skin around his knuckles going white in his grip.
“I…” he swallows. “I’ll tell you why,” he says, his face pale and tight. “Because… because I think, maybe… you deserve to know but…” He swallows again and pulls away slightly. “You’re probably not… you probably won’t like what I have to say.”
Rogers’ eyes refuse to meet his and Tony takes an uneasy sip of his drink, wondering exactly what he’d gotten himself into. “JARVIS, make sure we’re not disturbed,” he says over his glass, because he has a feeling that this is going to be a long conversation.
Rogers looks up at his words while JARVIS gives them his confirmation and he stares at him for a second before rolling his shoulders and breathing in slowly.
“Okay,” he says, breathing out. “Okay so…” his fingers twitch. “I… haven’t really… told anyone about this, besides SHIELD’s counsellor so…” He grimaces out something that is probably supposed to be a smile. “Just bare with me and um… it’d probably be easiest if you didn’t interrupt too much.”
Tony nods and mentally sizes up the amount of alcohol still left in his glass. Definitely not enough for the amount of emotion this conversation is bound to touch on.
Rogers watches him almost warily before breathing in and squaring his shoulders.
“Like I said,” he starts off in a rush. “I know I’ve been, ah um… tense around you.” Tony almost rolls his eyes at that, but manages to restrain himself. “But that wasn’t anything that you did,” Rogers continues. “It has to do with something that, uh, happened to me, in the war.”
Rogers’ gaze isn’t exactly focused on him as he speaks, and his face is almost blank as he continues.
“You know… you know how my omega status was kept hidden,” he says woodenly. “There were only a few people who knew my status.” His eyes flicker to Tony’s while the rest of his body remains motionless.
“Colonel Philips and Peggy because they were on the SSR team, Bucky of course and…” he swallows. “And Howard Stark.”
Tony’s stomach drops and he hastily takes a sip of his drink. Whatever this is, he has a feeling it’s going to tie back to his dad, and that probably isn’t a good thing.
Rogers’ hands tighten and he continues to talk into the middle-distance. “I met Howard when I first got the serum,” he says quietly. “But I didn’t really think much of him until I met him again later, when I was trying to rescue Bucky.”
His eyes meet Tony’s for a second before glancing away again. “Howard flew the plane for me and Peggy,” he explains although Tony already knew that well enough, his dad had mentioned it once or twice.
Silence falls as Rogers chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment and fiddles with his fingers. His eyes dart to Tony’s and flick down almost as quickly.
“Umm, on the plane, Howard was… sort of…uh, cheeky I guess, would be a word for it.” Rogers’ cheeks flush and Tony mentally translates the word into ‘flirtatious’ in the privacy of his own mind.
Rogers’ shifts uneasily in his chair and re-clasps his hands. “I didn’t think much of it though,” he says almost dully, his eyes suddenly flat. “I thought that was just kind of… his personality, and besides, I knew I was gonna have to deal with him for a while.”
Tony’s hands feel cold, and he can’t quite tear his eyes away from the Captain in front of him. This was not what he’d been expecting when he’d first decided to confront him and a part of him suddenly really really doesn’t want to know what the Captain has to say.
Rogers takes in a breath and looks off to the side. “Anyways, umm.” He licks his lips and his shoulders grow a little more tense. “Uh, later, I went to see Howard because I wanted him to redesign the Captain America suit into something more battleworthy, and he—”
Rogers cuts off and his chin bobs as he swallows and squirms a little in his seat. “He, uh, was still, rather suggestive.” Rogers twitches, his scent sharp and sour with stress. “To… to the point where I was, hmm, uncomfortable and glad for the chance to leave.”
His eyes flicker to his for a second and Tony is abruptly reminded that he needs to breathe. Rogers breathes in as well, albeit more shakily and glances down at his hands.
“So.” His shoulders hunch. “So, um. When I tried to leave…” He swallows tightly. “Howard asked me directly to,” he looks up at Tony looking slightly pained, “…to, you know…” A look of relief flashes in his eyes at Tony’s nod and he looks back down.
For his part, Tony’s hand moves jerkily to his mouth as he mechanically takes a sip of his drink. This was not what he was expecting to do when he got up this morning. This was not what he wanted to be doing. At all.
Rogers continues anyways and it just gets worse. “I was, of course, shocked,” he says, fixing his gaze on his hands as he runs a thumb over his knuckles. “I’d been… refusing politely I guess, and I didn’t think he would—”
His lips press together and his head twitches to the side. “…Anyway, um. He must of…” His shoulders hunch further and Tony’s hand clenches around his glass in response. “He must of… planned it… in advance.” The words drag out of Rogers like pulling teeth and he scowls at his hands. “Because… he had all his arguments lined up already.”
He looks up at Tony and unclasps his hands to rub at his mouth before running them along his pantlegs.
“He uh,” he looks to the side and his fingers clench. “He explained to me, how, um, what exactly would happen to me if my omega status got leaked to the public.” He tenses and catches Tony’s eye with an absolutely bone-weary look before running a hand through his hair.
“Basically… basically, America would riot if they found out that Captain America was an omega,” he explains tiredly and nausea twists around in Tony’s stomach. “And, I’d be in danger not only from Hydra, but from my fellow soldiers.”
A horrible picture is starting to make itself known to Tony and he desperately desperately hopes that it holds no bearings with reality. The likelihood of that falls further and further though, as Rogers continues talking.
“The army wouldn’t let me go though, if my status was revealed,” he continues, his hands dropping down to clasp together in his lap. “They would want to recreate the serum, and since I was the only subject they had…” he shrugs uneasily. “They’d probably shut me up in a lab somewhere until the end of the war.”
He looks straight at Tony, his face tight. “And Howard would most likely be the one in charge of it all.”
Tony goes for a drink and the ice in his glass clinks as he empties it. His hand shakes slightly as he sets it down. In front of him, Rogers breathes in uneasily.
“Howard also developed and produced my suppressants,” he says tensely. “If he wanted, he could mess with them, make it so I went into heat in the middle of—” he swallows tightly and looks away. He breathes in again and focuses intently on his clasped fingers.
“The—the deal was—” His scent spikes uneasily and he swallows again, never lifting his eyes. “The deal was, that as long as I…” His mouth twists. “…went to him, once every time we went on leave… he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t make my status public.”
Bile rises in Tony’s throat and he stands up abruptly, making Rogers flinch back and look at him apprehensively. Tony ignores him and goes over to his liquor cabinet, pouring himself another drink. He closes his eyes for a second and swallows back the sour taste in his throat.
When he’d asked Rogers why he’d hated him he hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected the answer to be ‘because you remind me of my rapist because my rapist was your father’.
He takes a sip of whiskey and lets it wash down his throat, mentally cursing his dad the whole time. After a second he turns back to where Rogers is sitting, taking the bottle with him as he retakes his seat.
Rogers eyes him for a second and Tony knows that his own scent is probably sharp and bitter, but there’s not much he can do about that. After seeming to decide that Tony was stable enough to continue, Rogers looks down and fiddles with his hands.
“Howard also explained that it would be pointless to try and report him,” he says quietly. “He wasn’t military, and he was too important to the war effort, it was unlikely that he’d get more than a slap on the wrist if I told… and if I did…” he shrugs and grimaces. “Then Howard would reveal my status and I’d get locked up in a lab with him anyways.”
His head twitches again, almost like a tick, and he presses his lips together. “It only happened about three times,” he says, as if that somehow makes it better. “Howard was actually gone back to the States for some reason on my last leave.” He gives Tony something close to a smile. “That was probably the best leave of my life,” he says, before his face becomes more serious and he drops his gaze.
The ice in Tony’s glass rattles as he tries not to think about his dad systematically blackmailing Captain America into sleeping with him. He had never even insinuated that he’d done something like that when he’d been alive. He hadn’t even suggested that the Captain was anything but the best alpha that had ever walked the Earth, acting as though they’d been the best of friends during the war.
He seriously seriously doubts that that was the case now.
Rogers breathes in and Tony realises that his hands are trembling slightly in his lap. “I…” His teeth clench. “I hadn’t been… intending to tell Bucky about it,” he says. “But…” Rogers eyes grow distant and he bites his lip. “I sort of— after—”
He cuts himself off and his knuckles whiten. “I kind of… wasn’t doing so well, after the first time,” he admits tensely in probably the biggest understatement of the year. “And I kind of ended up in Bucky’s room anyways.”
“Bucky was—” Rogers takes in a shaky breath and looks to the side. “He was… was really good about it,” he says finally, the shaking in his hands stronger than before. “I don’t think I could’ve made it if it wasn’t for him.”
He swallows, looking down and fiddling with his thumbs. “It must have been hard though,” he says quietly. “He knew why he couldn’t confront Howard but…” A look of pain flickers over his face. “It must have been hard knowing what was happening, and not being able to do anything about it.”
Tony’s stomach lurches and he’s suddenly reminded of how his dad’s face had often closed off disdainfully whenever Rogers’ Second in Command had been mentioned. He’d always assumed that they hadn’t got along for whatever reason. Now, he’s surprised that they hadn’t actually killed each other.
“After…” Rogers swallows. “After Bucky died, we got sent back to London again.” He untangles his hands and rubs them against his pants.
“Before, whenever I had to see Howard for mission related things, Bucky would always accompany me.” His eyes unfocus slightly as he stares off into the distance. “I don’t think the Commandos really quite knew why me and Buck were edgy around Howard, but…” His mouth quirks up slightly and his eyes flicker to Tony’s. “They knew something was going on, and they seemed to make it their mission to keep me from being alone with him.”
His hands continue to rub restlessly at his legs, and he swallows dryly. “I had to, go in to see Howard about supplies for our next mission,” he says, going back to not looking at Tony. “Dugan stuck with me for that one but…” his hands press into his legs. “Uh, Howard managed to come up with an errand for him that he couldn’t get out of, so he left and—”
His throat flexes and Tony reaches over to grab an empty glass and pours the Captain his own shot of whiskey. He knows that alcohol doesn’t do anything for him, but Rogers accepts it nonetheless, taking a shaky sip before setting it back down on the counter.
“Howard was, was worse than usual,” he rasps out. “And I was—” He reaches over to take another sip of his drink and swallows thickly. “I was so, so angry.”
His face twists and his fingers twitch. “Bucky had just died, not even a week ago and he—” His hand tightens on the glass and he breathes in slowly. “He said something about being a good alpha for me, or something and I…” his eyes catch Tony’s for a second and he traces a pattern on the counter with his free hand. “I, well… there was a handgun on the table near me… and I pulled it on him.”
Tony coughs in surprise and Rogers’ mouth quirks up a little before he drops his eyes and retraces his pattern on the countertop.
“I kinda lost it a little,” he says quietly, his eyes clouded. “I basically told him that if he touched me again, I’d shoot him.” He stares in front of him, his hands still. “I think I… I think I really scared him there,” he says slowly before glancing back over at Tony. “I sort of… I didn’t really care anymore if he told anyone about my status. Bucky was dead and I was going to hunt down Hydra, and I didn’t really care if anyone wanted to stop me.”
His finger starts moving again and his eyes slide away from Tony’s to look off to the side. “Howard left me alone after that,” he says dully. “I don’t really know if he would’ve tried something again later. He didn’t really get a chance because I crashed into the Arctic pretty shortly after that.”
Rogers takes another drink and Tony copies him, the alcohol not doing much to help alleviate his mood. Rogers sucks in a breath and sits up slightly, pulling his hand off the counter and running it along his pants again.
“When… when I woke up…” His eyes dart to Tony’s and glance away. “SHIELD gave me a file on the Commandos, and other people from the army that I knew.” He chews on the inside of his cheek and taps his fingers against his leg. “That’s when I learned that Howard was dead, and,” he glances at Tony again. “That he’d had a son.”
Tony’s stomach twists uncomfortably and Rogers presses his lips together, holding his glass but not drinking from it as he stares at the counter in front of him.
“It… I couldn’t…” He breathes in shakily. “It… it was hard enough thinking about Howard being a father, let alone someone’s Alpha…” He swallows and sets his glass down, running his hand through his hair restlessly. “I didn’t really know how to feel.”
He catches Tony’s eye and bites his lip. “I didn’t… really think, that I would have to meet you yet though,” he says slowly. “I was kind of hoping that I would have some time first…” His eyes grow distant and he looks away. “But then Loki attacked and—” his head twitches. “And I was called in to work with the Avengers.”
Tony thinks back to those first tense hours on the Helicarrier, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense now. His glass is empty again and his hand shakes slightly as he pours himself another.
“It was— it’d only really been about two weeks, for me anyways, since I’d last seen Howard,” Rogers continues as fine tremors run down his shoulders into his hands. “And when you came in—”
He swallows tightly, and his hands clench into fists in his lap. “I—I think, I think I could’ve done it, except,” his head twitches again and he clenches his jaw. “Except, um, your scent is… your scent is pretty similar.”
Tony’s stomach drops and a shiver runs through him. Oh.
Oh.
He knew that. Of course he did. He’d lived his whole life knowing that the leather part of his scent matched his dad’s leather and polished wood smell. His dad and plenty of other business people had commented on it enough. But he’d never had to think about how that would be for someone who Howard had actively wronged.
“The lavender part of your scent helped,” Rogers continues, looking slightly pale. “But it was still—” He swallows and breathes out slowly. “It was still hard for me.”
Yeah, no kidding, Tony thinks as he sits frozen, his mind’s eye flashing back to the fight they’d had on the Helicarrier. What had he done? He had put his hand on Rogers’ shoulder, and the man had shoved it off with a snarl and a flash of teeth. Back off!
His stomach clenches. He feels sick. He’s going to be sick. His hand shakes as he drinks again from his glass.
“I knew you weren’t Howard,” Rogers rushes to reassure. “But I didn’t— I didn’t know if Howard had, maybe told you about my status or, or something, and I didn’t really know that my omega status wasn’t dangerous anymore so…” He looks pained as he glances at Tony.
Tony nods and manages to clear his throat. “He didn’t tell me,” he gets out. “He never mentioned anything like that. I always thought you were an alpha.” The I never thought my dad raped you either goes unsaid.
Rogers nods, looking a little relieved, although his hand trembles slightly when he reaches for his glass again.
“I’d hoped… I’d hoped that things would get easier for me with time,” he says, staring into his glass before looking hurriedly up at Tony. “And they have,” he reassures. “And SHIELD’s doctor has actually helped a little but…” he looks down. “I guess I’ve still been, jumpy around you.”
Tony stares at him and tries to remind himself that the Captain is probably used to a different approach to sexual assault. The idea that he’d be completely in his rights to never want to see Tony again, that he didn’t have to stay on the Avengers team if he didn’t want to because there was a blasted trigger sitting right there ever day, probably hadn’t occurred to him.
He swallows uneasily and tries to think back to what he’d learned at a Sexual Assault Response seminar that he’d gone to a few years ago. A manager at Stark Industries had been reported and fired for sexual harassment, and as part of their response, all SI managers had gone through Sexual Assault training. Tony had gone along as well, to show solidarity, but since he wasn’t directly involved with the management of SI, he hadn’t thought that he’d actually have to use what he’d learned.
Obviously, he’d thought wrong.
The facilitator had gone through what consent and sexual assault was, before moving on to common responses in survivors.
“Sensory details often trigger flashbacks, and the survivor may feel like they are reliving the traumatic experience,” she’d said. “Because we are a scent-based society, scents can often be triggering, and many businesses adopt a scent-free workspace as a result. If an employee comes to you with scent concerns, it is a good idea to consider altering or neutralizing your scent, if that is possible for you.”
After that, SI had adopted scent neutralizing soaps and air-filtration systems, but Tony had never thought about doing so in his own home before. Honestly, the fact that the Captain had come to live with him at all was amazing.
“I know it’s not your fault what Howard did,” Rogers is saying. “And I know it’s not fair to treat you differently because of it, and I’ve been trying not to, it’s just…” He shrugs and drops his eyes, looking slightly embarrassed.
“It’s not your fault either,” Tony gets out, sitting up straighter and racking his brain for how the seminar facilitator had suggested responding to this sort of thing. “The only person to blame is Howard,” he says intently waving his hand, and Rogers meets his eye. “Whatever you feel about it now is normal, and completely fair.”
Rogers’ cheeks colour slightly, and his eyes drop, but he nods his head. “Thank you, Tony,” he says softly. “I know… this kind of thing can’t be easy to hear.”
Tony blows out a breath and slumps against the counter slightly. “It… isn’t,” he says slowly. “But… I’m glad you told me,” he says, looking down as he swirls his drink in his hand.
“Is… is there anything I can do, to… to make it… easier?” he asks, because regardless of what he might think advisable, the Captain seems set on staying here in the tower, and the least he could do is help make it bearable.
“Oh,” Rogers’ eyes widen for a second and he ducks his chin. “Oh, I don’t know, you don’t— you shouldn’t have to— because of Howard…” he trails off, looking conflicted.
“I don’t mind,” Tony sits up, the alcohol in his system protesting slightly. “I really don’t,” he insists, his brain frantically latching on to the chance to do something about this, to try and somehow make up for what his father had done almost 70 years ago. He knows on some level that this isn’t his fault and that he has nothing to be guilty for… but that doesn’t do much for second-hand guilt.
“You said my scent bothers you right?” he continues, his mind flying. “I could wear neutralizers, or… or bring out the lavender, or something and,” he waves a hand, “I can always back off, or leave a room or something, if you’re having a bad day, or… or whatever you need.”
Rogers stares at him for a second before his eyes flick off to the side and he swallows as he thinks. His eyes dart back and he fiddles a little with his glass. “I…” His throat flexes. “Maybe… maybe dulling your scent would help,” he admits, dropping his eyes to his glass.
He sets it down and looks up determinedly. “I do like you though, Tony,” he says emphatically. “You’re a good person, and I was glad to have met you.”
Tony laughs slightly hysterically and shakes his head. “You certainly are something Cap,” he says, draining his glass.
Rogers leaves his glass be and stands up a little uncertainly, wiping his hands on his pants as he does so. “Ah,” his mouth twists and he clenches his jaw. “I’d… appreciate it if, if you didn’t tell anyone else about this,” he says, his eyes focusing somewhere around Tony’s shoulder.
Tony’s eyes widen and he leans forward. “Of course,” he says, trying to add as much sincerity into his words as he can. “Of course, yes.”
Rogers relaxes slightly and nods at him before dropping his gaze and rubbing his hands together. Fine tremors run through them and he places them in his pockets.
“Okay, well,” his eyes dart around the room, only landing on Tony by coincidence. “Well, I think… I was going to head to… to my room so…” He shifts awkwardly and retreats back to the elevator once Tony nods his understanding.
The elevator doors close and Tony slumps forward against the counter. His fingers dig into the lip of the countertop and he grinds his teeth, cursing Howard.
Who knew his dad was even more of a bastard than he’d thought? The man had had the gall to walk around and continue to talk about Steve Rogers like they were friends, like he hadn’t manipulated and abused him for years, like he wasn’t one of the worse kinds of alphas there was. Like he hadn’t—
Tony swallows bitterly and reaches for Rogers’ neglected glass, draining it in one go.
“Sir?” JARVIS cuts in. “Shall I call Miss Potts?”
Tony lets out a bitter laugh and the world sways slightly as he tries to get off his stool. He had drank too much, he knew it and his AI knew it and if he isn’t careful, today could go very badly. Although, he isn’t sure what could be much worse than finding out your dad was a rapist so…
He stumbles slightly as he makes his way to the elevator and he waves his hand dismissively. “Sure, J,” he slurs. “Whatever.”
He’s been through this enough times that he knows when he’s nearing dangerous territory, and he’s self-aware enough still to manage to drag himself to his room and curl up in one of his easy chairs by the window and wait for Pepper. She probably won’t be impressed by the state he’s in, but at least he’s not actively trying to make it worse.
The lights are dim when she comes in, faint signs of stress lining her face and scent, and she leaves them dim as she comes to crouch in front of his chair.
“Tony,” she says, her eyes scanning him. “What happened?”
Tony shakes his head and stares at the tops of his toes, his knees drawn into his chest. “Learned som’ bad news,” he says shortly. “But ’s confidential.”
Pepper’s eyes dart back and forth slightly as she looks at him and she reaches forward to grasp one of his hands. “What do you need?” she asks simply.
Tony closes his eyes and leans his head against his knees, squeezing Pepper’s hand gently.
“I…” He swallows and licks his lips. “I need you to find’a charity for SI to donate to. Anonymously. Somethin’ that focuses on helping sexual assault survivors. Maybe more tha’ one. Ones for omegas, alphas, betas, ever'thing…”
Concern flickers over Peppers face but she nods slowly. This wouldn’t be the first time that Tony had used charities as a coping mechanism. Several veteran and prosthetic programs had suddenly found themselves fully funded after Afghanistan.
“Are you looking for a one-time donation or a long-term one?” she asks, getting down to business and pulling out her phone.
“Continual. For’ver,” he says, keeping his eyes closed and letting himself pretend for a little bit that this will somehow make up for what had happened.
“Okay,” Pepper says softly, her free hand squeezing his.
oOo
It was impossible not to think about it. Rogers’ story had jumped like a cat from a bag and then lodged itself elephant-like in Tony’s brain and it was hard to look at Rogers without remembering what had happened to him, what had been done to him.
Rogers probably felt similarly and for the next several days he and Tony spend their time carefully walking around each other on eggshells. The other Avengers probably notice something is up with them, but there’s not much chance of them guessing what.
It’s stressful at times, living in a tower full of spies, but at least this time, Tony is pretty sure Natasha won’t be able to guess why he comes into their next meeting with his scent mostly neutralized, a lavender scented product bringing that portion of his scent to the foreground.
Most of the Avengers’ twitch or subconsciously sniff the air in surprise as he enters, before moving on, since one’s own scent was one’s own business and all, but Tony can feel Rogers’ eyes follow him as he takes his seat, and when he looks up, the Captain gives him the tiniest shadow of a nod.
Tony relaxes slightly and he notices Rogers’ shoulders loosen as well as they get ready for the meeting to start. In his pocket, his phone vibrates, and he pulls it out to find a detailed email from Pepper outlining the charities that she had found and the work they do. Something in his chest eases at that and he puts his phone away.
He knows that what Howard did isn’t his fault. He knows it isn’t really his responsibility… but, in a way it kind of is. Even if it hadn’t been his dad that had hurt Rogers, even if he didn’t have a similar scent… as an alpha and as a socially responsible person, he has a part to play in holding himself and others accountable.
Rogers was right when he’d said that omega oppression wasn’t just a thing of the past, and his story probably wasn’t the only one of its kind. And things weren’t going to change unless people did something.
And if Tony could be a part of that, even just a little bit… then he would do it to the best of his abilities.