Chapter 6
“Captain Rogers, shall I wake Mr. Stark up for you? He is emerging out of REM-sleep. I believe he might benefit from your presence when he wakes up.”
Steve had been sitting in companiable silence with the others for the past half hour, waiting for Jarvis to alert them of Tony’s waking. He and Bruce had assumed that the genius’ wound had gotten infected and would need further treatment. Bruce had finished his instructions twenty minutes after Tony had left so they hadn’t been sitting there for even an hour, but Steve had been getting impatient. He was eager to go up to Tony’s floor, to see how he was doing. He felt Clint stir beside him as he nodded.
“Yes, Jarvis. Thank you,” Steve said as he stood up from the couch, patting Clint on his knee with a slight smile. His eyes found Natasha’s, who was watching him keenly, body coiled tightly around the book in her hands. He dipped his chin.
“Is it alright if I go up straight away, Jarvis?” he asked the AI, slightly wary that he’d be sent away if Jarvis didn’t deem Tony ready.
“Naturally, Captain Rogers.”
Bruce got up off the sofa and walked ahead of him into the kitchen, but Steve felt pinned by Natasha’s stare. It wasn’t the Black Widow, but there was something unmistakably not-Natasha about her intensity. Shifting slightly, she maintained the eye contact. She seemed tense, and if Steve didn’t know her any better… nervous.
“Take care of him, Steve?” she asked him hesitantly, voice tight.
“I will,” he told her with a gentle smile. “Of course.”
He went to turn around to follow after Bruce, but halted when the spy added another comment.
“Don’t push him.”
She seemed about ready to jump off the couch and join him, so he quickly acquiesced her with a nod and another smile.
“I won’t, Nat.”
After another second of enduring her studying gaze, she nodded and relaxed back against the couch. He dipped his head and turned, following after Bruce. He knew that Nat wasn’t worried about him actually pushing Tony—she knew him well enough to know he’d never do that to him right now—it was likely about her wanting to prevent Steve from getting disappointed at the lack of pushing in return. A lump formed in his throat as the image of Tony unseeing and shaking against the wall pushed itself back into his mind’s eye.
He knew the image would haunt him for days to come.
He reached the kitchen island where Bruce was waiting from him with a lopsided grin, his hand outstretched with a little paper bag. It was the medicine that they’d agreed on, some painkillers and anti-inflammatory medicine, along with one of his power bars. God knew how many days Tony had gone without food.
“You go and play nurse, Cap,” Bruce teased and it helped relieve some of the tension building up in his stomach. Chuckling slightly, he took the bag from the scientist, quickly checking the contents.
“You remember what I told you, right?” Bruce asked again, for the umpteenth time, his expression suddenly turning serious. Tilting his head slightly as fondness curled over him, Steve steadied the scientist with a hand on his arm.
“Yes, Bruce, I still remember, like the last twenty times you asked me.”
“Sorry,” Bruce responded, smiling sheepishly. Steve waved the apology away.
“God, Tony has no idea that all of you mother-hen him even worse than I do,” Steve said, raising his voice slightly so Nat and Clint knew the comment was directed at the both of them too. “He’d lose his mind over all your fussing.”
He got three snorts in return.
“I promise to take care of him,” Steve stated haughtily in his best Captain America voice, laying a hand over his heart, and he continued a bit more seriously, “I’ll patch him up, make him drink, eat, sleep ‘til he can’t stomach the affection anymore and then – and only then – will I report back to you.”
Bruce hummed appreciatively next to him and Steve watched with a smile as he received nods from Clint and Natasha on the couch. The archer turned back to the TV.
“Whatever you say, Romeo. Just leave already,” Clint groaned.
Steve grinned at Bruce and he felt himself become slightly nervous now that nothing was keeping him there anymore. Huh.
“Right,” he said, and with a slight wave to the scientist, he walked over to the elevator, sighing as the doors slid shut behind him. Clutching the bag of medicine to his chest, he looked at the ceiling, a remnant from his tech-challenged days, and addressed Jarvis.
“Does Tony know that I am coming up?”
“No, Captain Rogers, he does not.” There was a slight pause. “I figured the chance of Sir refusing your entry would be lesser this way.”
Steve smirked to himself. Tony really had given his bots way too much personality for his own good.
“Thank you, Jarvis.”
“Of course, Captain.”
Nerves crawled in his chest and in the back of his throat and he felt irrationally anxious. How hard could it be to take care of the genius?
Well.
He hummed to himself and huffed out a laugh.
Letting his head fall back to his neck, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He’d do his very best to fulfil his ‘promise’— the question was whether Tony would allow him to. Nevertheless, Steve would fight the genius all the way, the genius who just so happened to be the worst patient SHIELD-medical had ever had the absolute displeasure of dealing with.
And that was at the best of times. Now, Tony was hurt with a wound not only physical, but apparently emotional as well. Steve heaved another sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, readying himself for the likely sky-high defensiveness he’d have to put up with. Fondness kept him from actually feeling bitter, though. The stubbornness was what made Tony, Tony.
And then again, wasn’t that the whole reason he was here in the first place?
Jarvis announced his arrival to Tony’s floor and he felt slightly sheepish as the elevator doors slid open. He really wasn’t sure whether he’d be welcome.
“Tony?” he called out, remaining within the safe confines of the elevator, giving Tony space to send him away. He didn’t know what he would do if he were sent away, but he would find a way to deal with that, too.
No reply came, however, so he pushed on, “Tony, I’m going to come in, alright?”
Emboldened by the lack of dismissal—which admittedly also made his heart skip a beat— he stepped out into Tony’s rooms and took in the space around him. He didn’t know what he’d expected, maybe piles of destruction or bloody trails leading to the bathroom, but he found nothing of the sort.
He turned toward Tony’s bedroom, undeterred by the silence and basking in the comfort that Tony’s rooms always offered him.
The first few times he’d come up here, he’d been nervous, scared to overstep the other’s boundaries as he went to put the genius to bed after a movie night, but he’d never been sent away. Steve had always been too scared to ask if he could stay, however.
He had ached to, though— every single time.
Walking around the corner of the living room into what Tony deemed his bedroom, the scene that met him warmed his chest and he smiled.
He found Tony sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at Steve tiredly, tufts of hair sticking out in all directions. Something eased inside of him at the sight of a very much alive billionaire genius.
Said genius was definitely not alright, though, swaying as he was on top of the covers, fully clothed except for his bare feet. His legs dangled over the side, toes barely touching the floor.
“Hey, Tony,” he said, sending him his softest smile as he walked closer. Tony dropped his gaze to his hands laying on his lap as Steve halted in front of him, and Steve decided to drop down to his haunches, wanting to appear as non-threatening as possible. He noticed upon closer inspection that Tony’s hands weren’t shaking. Good.
“How’re you feeling? Did you have a good nap?” he prodded, trying to get Tony to meet his eyes again, wanting to gauge his mental state.
Tony dipped his head in acknowledgement before muttering, “Just woke up.”
He met Steve’s eyes for a second, before half-heartedly waving his hand around the mess of his hair. Steve snorted at the gesture and a smile tugged at the corner of Tony’s mouth at the sound, but the expression flattened out again after a second. Steve swallowed and he sobered up as well.
Watching Tony wring his hands together, he focused on breathing evenly, setting an example for Tony. The genius seemed either nervous or uncomfortable, and Steve felt surprised that he hadn’t been sent away by him yet. The other’s quietness was also surprising. He’d been expecting and preparing for defensiveness and stubbornness, not… whatever this was.
Tony likely just needed some time to wake up and readjust. Flashbacks were no joke. Bruce had told him about the physical strain it could place on a person, depleting their energy rapidly and clouding their brain, flattening emotions.
He wanted to see if he could rile Tony up a bit, get him to bite back and make him feel somewhat in control again by allowing him to fall back onto his casual sarcasm.
“You weren’t joking when you said you needed your beauty sleep,” he quipped lightly, nudging Tony’s shin gently with his hand while smiling up at him.
His smile wavered, however, when he got nothing back in reply. Tony was still not looking at him.
He noticed that the engineer’s body was starting to get increasingly rigid with every passing second, and if Steve had to guess, he was beginning to feel the pain and discomfort of the injury. He was also likely remembering what had happened earlier, downstairs.
The pain at least, Steve could do something about.
Putting the paper bag down on the floor next to Tony’s foot, he exhaled quietly before making to get up, but he snapped his eyes back up again when he heard Tony’s breathing hitch.
He found Tony watching him with an indecipherable look in his eyes, lips drawn into a tight line, but his hands had stilled in his lap. Steve allowed Tony the space to think and saw his throat bob a few times before the genius finally spoke up.
“What are you doing here?” Tony asked, voice low and raspy. He maintained the eye-contact, but Steve found no confusion there. He looked… puzzled, maybe?
Steve reached out, not touching until the genius gave a slight nod, before putting his hand on Tony’s thigh and he squeezed soothingly. He didn’t really know what to answer. He wasn’t elegant with his words, not like Tony could be. Why put any more thought into eloquence than necessary? Now, he felt out of place, though, clumsy. As if one wrong comment could shatter Tony’s last remnants of calm.
“I’m here to patch you up, Tones,” he added the nickname after a slight moment of hesitation. He’d heard Colonel Rhodes use the nickname a few times and he hoped the familiarity of it would put Tony at ease. His own smile came to him easily when Tony nodded with a slight smile, eyes amazingly open.
Despite being allowed to see underneath Tony’s masks, Steve never considered him to be easy to read. He could only ever read what he was being allowed to see. Here, Steve was scared he’d see too much if he looked for too long and he wasn’t sure if Tony intended to drop all of his defences in this moment, so Steve broke the eye contact. With a last squeeze of the other’s thigh, he got up from his crouched position and released his grip.
“I’ll be right back,” he muttered softly, not surprised when he didn’t really get a reaction from the engineer. He knew his words would register somewhere in Tony’s mind after a little while, though.
Leaving his friend on his bed, he quickly walked over to the bathroom, but kept his footsteps quiet. He knew that Tony kept a medical kit underneath his bathroom sink and he hoped it was fully stocked. He could go down to Bruce’s lab but he was hesitant – and unwilling – to leave the other man now.
The doors to the bathroom slid open and Steve gasped, heart leaping up into his throat as he took in the scene. Blood splatters covered most of the floor and tiny splatters had made their way onto the usually pristinely white sink. His stomach churned and he had to brace his hand against the doorframe to keep himself from running back to Tony to search him over and hold him close.
The medical kit sat opened on the sink, some of the contents on top stained with smeared red blotches. He dragged a hand over his face and closed his eyes to recollect himself briefly.
Right.
Back to work.
He stepped across the floor swiftly, trying to ignore the bloody patterns for now. The dark maroon indicated the blood had long since dried, so at least Tony wasn’t bleeding to death… anymore.
He sighed and just snapped the box shut, grabbing the kit and hurried out of the bathroom, feeling unsettled.
Making his way back over to the bed, he was pleasantly surprised to see Tony turned toward him. His heart slowly returned to its normal rhythm while he watched as some of the spark returned to Tony’s eyes when he followed Steve’s movements to where he halted in front of the genius. He kept his own expression neutral, setting the kit on the nightstand, even though he couldn’t press down on his concern anymore after the scene in the bathroom. He flicked the kit open again and looked past the blood, finding the box to be adequately equipped.
“Why are you here?” Tony suddenly asked again, voice still strangely devoid of his usually loud emotions. The question made him pause. Steve looked back at the genius and frowned.
“I just told you—”
“No, I know,” Tony interrupted him with something close to an eyeroll, the ‘duh’ unspoken in the air between them and Steve punched down the hint of relief he felt, not understanding him. Tony pressed on, trying to sound annoyed but Steve only heard poorly concealed uncertainty, “I mean, why are you here?”
He felt his frown deepen at the engineer’s tone. It conveyed so much more to him than the actual question itself, which wasn’t all that enlightening. The anxiety in Tony’s voice, however, was loud enough to understand what was being asked of him.
He sank down onto his knees again in front of Tony, but didn’t touch him. Tony’s hands had begun shaking again.
“I’m here because I want to be, Tones. Because you’re hurt. I want to take care of you,” he pressed, wanting the genius to understand the sincerity of his words.
He didn’t need to be an empath to understand the question that flickered across Tony’s eyes as he tried to get his walls back up, why?
“You could’ve just dragged me off to medical,” Tony pressed with a hint of dejection to his voice before Steve could think of something to say, something to help.
“I know you don’t like medical. You hate medical,” Steve stated, tilting his head slightly as he grieved at the look of distress that crossed Tony’s face.
“Yeah, but why does that matter,” to you? he didn’t ask, but Steve’s heart broke nonetheless. He noticed as the genius’s breathing picked up in speed and his internal alarm bells went off. Another panic attack would push him beyond exhaustion.
He sought out Tony’s eyes as he went to grab one of his hands and smiled slightly when the genius allowed the action. Steve’s large fingers wrapped around cold, shaky ones and he brought the hand to his own chest, pressing it flat against his own, steady heartbeat. Tony’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t pull back. Steve grinned to himself in victory as the genius took in a full, surprised breath. He swiped his thumb tenderly over the back of Tony’s hand as he sucked in deep, exaggerated breaths.
“It matters to me because it matters to you, Tones. Like I said, I want to take care of you, in any way I can. I know that you would benefit much more from a friendly touch than whatever those doctors can offer you down in the med bay. I also know that this,” he gestured at Tony’s general chest area, “is not the only wound you’re suffering from right now. There’s one here as well.”
He peeled his right hand off of Tony’s and reached up to lightly tap at the side of Tony’s head. Once there, he couldn’t stop himself from gently cupping Tony’s cheek. The genius’ eyes closed for a second, before catching himself but he didn’t pull away, and surprise remained in his brown eyes.
He wasn’t good at this touchy-feely stuff, but he’d try to do it for Tony.
“You matter to me, Tony. To us. So your comfort and well-being will also always matter to me, and if that means I have to play nurse for you, then so be it,” he concluded, feeling unsure of himself.
Silence hung between them as he let the other think, scratching gently at his scalp and he noticed some of the rising panic had ebbed away. Watching Tony right now felt like watching a computer system reboot, seeing the familiarity return to his expression and eyes as he finally managed to make sense of the situation.
“You’re not a doctor, though, Cap,” Tony stated sceptically, but the slight lift at the corner of the genius’ mouth made Steve exhale a relieved breath. There he was.
“I have field medical knowledge, Tony. I was in the army,” Steve retorted drily, dropped his hand from Tony’s face and gently placing Tony’s own hand back into his lap.
“Right,” the engineer replied sheepishly, watching Steve’s movements for a second before looking back up.
A smile spread across Tony’s features and they grinned at each other, that spark of mischief gleaming in the genius’ eyes.
Steve nearly lost himself to that look, but recovered after a moment. He broke the eye contact and looked down at the paper bag he’d placed on the floor. He looked back up as he wrapped his fingers around his package and sighed, smirking.
“I brought you dinner,” he joked as he held it up, slightly reluctant, ready for the atmosphere to shift.
And shift it did, but it did not turn hostile like he expected.
Tony hummed, shrugging slightly but wincing at the movement. Steve’s smile faltered at the complete lack of protest, the total acceptance of the situation, as well as the obvious indication of pain. His chest constricted again as he remembered the task ahead of him.
Steve ran a hand through his hair, breathing slowly, before he opened the bag and looked at its contents. He picked out the power bar and gave it to Tony who, Steve noticed, was growing more tense again and had turned away from him on the bed. His focus was on the pillow, but Steve knew he wasn’t actually seeing it. He gently nudged the genius’ arm with the crinkling wrapper.
“Here, eat this first. When was the last time you ate?” he began, but the blank, tired look in Tony’s eyes made him power on, “Nevermind. Just eat this, you need to get some nutrition into your body before you take any medication. Let me get you some water in the meantime.”
He forced himself to smile when Tony grabbed the bar from his hands and began unwrapping it. Satisfied that the other could be left alone for a minute when he took the first bite, Steve stood up from his kneeling position and patted his leg softly.
He moved toward the luxurious kitchen taking up much of the space of the living room, all decked out with sleek anthracite counters and cabinets. He quickly took one of Tony’s fancy tumblers out of one of the cupboard and let some meticulously-filtered water fill it, straight from the tap. His Ma would never believe the wonders of the 21st century, he snorted to himself. Or what Stark money could get you, he supposed. He set the glass on the counter and braced himself for a second, letting out a long sigh and rolled his neck.
He felt like banging his head against the wall. God, he felt unfit for this. He would have handled defiance with grace, stubbornness with perseverance and even though he wanted to treat Tony’s vulnerability with the utmost care— because that was precious— Steve, quite frankly, didn’t know what the hell he was doing.
He would just have to figure it out on the go, though. There was no room to fail Tony here, and he’d do his damnedest best to make him feel comfortable.
He picked up the glass and walked back over, forcing himself to look calm as he met the genius’s gaze, anxiety written plain across Tony’s face and body. He’d somehow finished the bar already in the minute that Steve had stepped out. He sat down next to the genius on the bed, leaving a decent amount of space between them and pushed the glass into his hands.
“Hungry?” he ventured, grinning slightly.
“Yeah,” Tony replied with a weary smile of his own tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I’ll get you some more later,” Steve said, suppressing a wince when no reply came. He’d never seen Tony so… resigned.
“You’re so quiet,” he suddenly blurted out before hurriedly trying to save his observation with a wince, “it’s… are you alright?”
Tony searched his face, mostly unreadable, despite the clear anxiety shining through, before he spoke up guardedly, “Am I not more… agreeable this way?”
The genius didn’t even flinch at what his words implied.
“What?” Steve uttered quietly, horrified.
“I’ve been told I’m an asshole whenever I open my mouth,” Tony said, but his tone wasn’t biting. It came out rather unsure, genuinely tentative.
“What?” he uttered again, blinking as he suppressed a frown. He tilted his head as he studied Tony, thinking for a few seconds before speaking up, “Well, maybe sometimes, but I happen to like you when you’re being an asshole, Tony, so please, don’t hold back on my account.”
Elegant. Observing the look on Tony’s face, turning from restrained to slightly bemused, he allowed a real smile onto his face. He was just recovering from Tony’s self-deprecating remark when his brain caught up to his own words.
“But you can be quiet if you want to,” he quickly added, worried Tony would feel like he had to fill the silence now that Steve had said that. He squirmed when Tony’s expression turned unimpressed, slight smile creeping onto his face. He was about to elaborate when Tony interrupted with an airy, incredulous laugh.
“Steve. Shut up. Seriously, it’s fine, forget I even brought it up,” Tony said with a genuine smile now. He visibly hesitated before he placed his hand on Steve’s where he had dropped it in the space between them and added, “Thanks.”
Steve nodded and looked at their hands. He was going to actually bang his head into the wall in a minute.
He cleared his throat and with his free hand, Steve picked up the bag and shook out the three little bottles into his hand, reading the labels, looking for the doxy… something. Steve wasn’t a doctor, and Bruce swore he wasn’t one either, but he would trust whatever Bruce told him to do in situations like these. He put the other two bottles down on the sheets and pulled his hand from under Tony’s to open the first bottle.
“Take these,” Steve instructed as he shook two yellow-tinged pills into his palm, “they’ll help treat the infection.”
He watched as Tony grabbed them out of his hand with slightly trembling fingers and down them without any protest. Steve swallowed before he resumed.
“I’ll, uh… I’ll set reminders for the next doses, so don’t you worry about that. I’ve also got some ibuprofen with me to help with the pain and I’m guessing the wound’s inflamed, so that’s a win-win,” he explained, watching Tony hesitantly for a second before reaching out for the third bottle and continued, “If the pain is really bad, you could also take some Tylenol?”
Steve shook out 2 pills of ibuprofen while he waited for Tony to think on his words. When, in lieu of a reply, Tony just offered the palm of his hand to him, he quickly took out two tablets of Tylenol as well and gently placed them in the genius’ outstretched hand. He watched as Tony meekly swallowed the pills one by one and folded his hands in his lap again, worrying his lip between his teeth.
As Steve began thinking up a gameplan for the actual patch-up, he noticed that Tony’s eyes would sometime flicker to his face, but he pointedly looked away. Let him assess the danger, allow him to tell himself he’s safe with his friend.
“You could’ve gotten Bruce to do it?” Tony tried again, swallowing, obviously trying to stall.
Steve thought about that for a second, before he shrugged. He could have, but they’d all agreed that Steve was the better option this time. He’d do it, though, he’d go and get Bruce if Tony asked for him, but Steve severely doubted that was what Tony actually wanted.
“What?” Tony pushed, voice rough as his anxiety increased.
“Well, like I already told you, I wanted to do it,” Steve repeated, seeking out Tony’s gaze before continuing slowly, “but I could get Bruce if you’d prefer him to help?”
“No, I…” Tony looked away again, casting his eyes down to his obviously shaking fingers, appearing frustrated.
Steve quickly, but gently, pushed on, “Well, let’s get you patched up then, shall we?”
There was only a beat of silence before Tony suddenly looked up again and Steve felt blown away by the intensity of the anxiety expressed freely on his face, likely against his own knowledge.
“You don’t have to, Steve. I’ll be fine if you leave me be, I promise,” Tony responded with a smile-turned-grimace, breaths hitching with the intensity of that underlying distress. There was an attempt to cross his arms in front of his chest, which Tony gave up on with a wince.
Scooting himself closer to the engineer and turning to face him, Steve put both his hands on Tony’s arms, steadying him and studying his face.
“It’s alright, Tones. There’s nothing to fear here, it’s just me,” Steve spoke softly, and God if that word usually inspired a fight with Tony. None of that defiance welled up now, though, so he pushed on gently, “I am not sure about what it is exactly that’s stressing you out right now, but this won’t change anything. It won’t change what I think of you.”
He thought for a second, biting the insides of his cheek as he noticed he had Tony’s full attention. His brown eyes were pinned to his with a desperation there that enveloped Steve wholly.
“Allowing help, allowing me to help doesn’t mean that you’re weak. Even if it did, you don’t have to be strong like this all the time, Tony. Allowing me to help is okay, Tones, hell, asking for help is good, great, even. I’m not seeing anything here that is making me want to run the other way and never look back,” he continued with a smile, no longer able to suppress the urge to run his fingers through Tony’s hair now that he was sitting so close to him, so he did. The engineers’ eyes fluttered shut, hiding the emotion there, the hesitant awe that had just begun creeping in.
“I’m invested in you, Tony. There’s something about you that just makes me want to wrap you into my arms and never let go so that I can make you feel better, so you’re doing us both a favour here by allowing me to take care of you,” Steve paused at Tony’s amused snort and smiled back.
“Every time I get to learn something new about you, that feeling only increases. I know that we might not have gotten off on the best foot, but I can tell you now that I’ll forever try to make that up to you. You deserve to feel comfort, to have that person in your corner that you can allow yourself to open up to. I won’t betray the trust you’ve given me, Tony.”
He was still carding his fingers through Tony’s hair, feeling lighter with the words off his chest. He knew it was going to take time for the engineer to really believe all of that, but Steve didn’t mind. He would repeat them as many times as Tony needed to hear them, and he would wait.
He felt something flutter in his belly when Tony’s steady fingers wrapped around Steve’s forearms and Tony gently pulled him in closer, until their foreheads touched.
Steve closed his eyes and smiled to himself as he felt his heart skipping a beat at Tony’s gesture of gratefulness, at their unashamed closeness. Both of them just breathed there for a second, until Steve broke the silence.
“The others feel the same way, by the way.”
He pulled back slightly, enough to see Tony’s entire face light up in mischief.
“The exact same way, Stevie?” he asked with faked scepticism and Steve dropped his head with a snort, rolling his eyes even as his heart skipped a beat in excitement.
“Shut up, you git,” he retorted, sitting back slightly, “You know what I mean”.
“Hmm, really don’t. Please enlighten me,” Tony said, tilting his head with a fond look in his eyes.
“You’re insufferable. I’m serious. The entire team would drop whatever they were doing to help you if you were to ask for it, Tony. They adore you, as do I. This, though,” he gestured with his hand between the two of them, with Tony’s fingers still clasped around his forearm, “is a conversation for another time.”
Tony stilled, expression softening again and he nodded, softly dragging his thumb up and down Steve’s arm. Steve grinned, relieved that Tony seemed much less anxious and he wanted to bask in this moment but he also knew that Tony needed to sleep. They had a long while ahead of them before that could happen, though. He sighed, feeling so very reluctant to end the moment.
Tony immediately picked up on his change of mood and released his grip, setting Steve’s arms down gently on the sheets. His throat bobbed and a slight shudder ran through him.
“It’ll take about thirty minutes for the pain meds to kick in. You want to sit it out?”
Tony shook his head and replied, “No, let’s just get this over with already. Besides, I’m feeling better already,” Tony added cheekily, although it wasn’t as earnest as it was a second ago. Steve mourned it.
“Idiot,” he said instead, nudging Tony’s chin with his finger. Sighing again, he stood up and said, “Let me just grab a chair, then.”
He quickly padded back over to the kitchen and took one of the unnecessarily expensive chairs, choosing one that was low enough to be able to reach Tony on the bed. Walking back, he placed it right beside the bed and sat down, knees brushing against Tony’s. He pushed himself into a soldier-like focus, regarding the man in front of him as his patient. The engineer was twitching his feet against the floor, the only current giveaway of his anxiety.
“Let’s get that shirt off of you,” Steve said, long past expecting a chuckle or joke at that. He got a look in reply though, which was something, at least. He continued, “Do you want me to help you get it off, or should I just… cut it?”
He watched as Tony’s mind flitted through the options. The genius sat up straighter and reached for the hem of his shirt, but aborted the movement with a hiss. Tony closed his eyes in resignation and exhaled before he spoke up, “Yeah, just… just cut it off.”
Steve hummed in assent. He grabbed the kit off the nightstand and rummaged around until he found the fabric scissors. Tony pulled at the fabric of the bottom of his shirt and held it out for him, stretching it so Steve would have easy access. He had to force himself to keep breathing slowly as he placed the scissors and began cutting, ignoring how the fabric shook with the tremors that wracked the other’s body. He kept his own body relaxed, even though he was nervous to see what he’d find under the shirt. What he’d been worrying about the past few days.
The scissors ripped through the fabric of his shirt pretty easily and he quickly made his way up towards Tony’s chest. He jerked when suddenly Tony’s hand closed around his wrist, stopping his movements. He looked up to find the genius’ complexion pale, lips pressed tight into a line.
“You won’t hurt me,” Tony said, but there was no threat to the statement. It was a question, fear and dread plain to see in his eyes. Steve found it easy to answer.
“No,” he agreed, “I would never willingly hurt you.”
Steve never looked away from him as Tony searched him, body tense, until something settled in his gaze. With an audible swallow, Tony released his grip.
Steve looked back down again and resumed his path with the scissors, until the last thread of the collar gave way with a soft ‘snap’. Putting the tool down on the bed, he looked up for permission and steeled himself when he got a nod.
He took hold of the fabric and gently pulled it aside. The bright beacon of light on his chest was the first thing to draw his attention and he stilled, looking up to find Tony studying him with a sickening intensity. His eyes were drawn back down to the Arc Reactor placed atop his ribs. It was… wow.
“Can I touch it?” Steve asked hesitantly when he reached out before he could think about what he was doing. He looked up briefly to see Tony nod, eyes closed off again. Steve wavered for a second at that, but his curiosity got the better of him.
He softly padded his fingers against the metal, touching the glowing parts of it. He had no idea what he was seeing here, some piece of tech so incredibly advanced it lay far beyond his understanding.
His fingers lit up with the soft blue where he rested his hand atop it. It was cool under his hand, and although he had expected some type of whirring, it only moved under the influence of Tony’s breathing. Breathing that was carefully controlled, shallow and high in his chest.
Steve moved his fingers down to study the edges of the arc where it sat against the genius’ skin, pushing the shirt aside slightly. That’s when he frowned.
Angry red came into view on the right side of the arc reactor, and Steve’s fingers faltered. He looked up again to find Tony looking off to the side, face perfectly expressionless. He pushed the fabric all the way past Tony’s shoulder and winced in sympathy as it revealed a red, swollen line cut across his chest all the way to his shoulder. The cut was riddled with stitches and blotches of dried blood around the middle and he scowled at the sight, finding some of the stitches ripped out and the depth of the cut became clear.
No wonder Tony had seemed in so much pain, the wound was clearly infected, skin around it tinged red as well. There was warmth radiating of his chest, but at least there didn’t seem to be any… pus, or something, Steve thought with a hint of relief.
He sat back slightly, retracting his hands and grabbed the kit off the nightstand. Placing it in his lap, he began to look through it for the things he needed while the atmosphere between them grew tense. Neither of them said anything and Tony remained perfectly still. Steve felt his own heartbeat pick up in speed, but he wasn’t sure how to remedy the situation.
He found a needle and thread, as well as some sterile gauze and antiseptics, and placed them all next to Tony on the bed. He picked out the tweezers as an after-thought.
He exhaled as quietly as he could while he took in Tony, who still wasn’t looking at him but tension and anxiety were radiating off of him. He was so clearly uncomfortable that Steve almost wanted to apologise and scramble away from him so he could recover. Almost.
The only thing he could offer instead was control, choice. Give him direction over Steve’s actions by giving him whatever options he had.
“Do you want to do this sitting up or lying down?” he asked softly, but the engineer still startled slightly.
“N-not lying down,” Tony said quickly with a hint of desperation as he looked back at Steve, shuddering out a breath. Steve shrugged.
“Sure thing, sitting up it is. Are you comfortable on the bed?”
Tony nodded meekly, eyes clouding over slightly.
Steve leaned forward in his chair, desperate to try and pull him back in.
“Hey, Tony, stay with me. Don’t go… don’t go there again. I’ll tell you what I’m doing every step of the way, alright? I can stop whenever you need me to. It’ll feel better after I’m done.”
The look in Tony’s brown eyes was saddened, defeated, but he nodded. Watching his reaction, Steve slowly reached out for his hand and squeezed it lightly.
“Breathe with me for a second?” he suggested. He wasn’t going to rush Tony into this. He had nowhere to go, neither did Tony, and he didn’t see any reason to make this any more uncomfortable than it needed to be.
There was a hint of surprise in the engineer’s eyes as he watched him back while they both breathed deeply. Tony’s fingers still shook slightly, so Steve resumed lightly rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. He could see Tony readying himself, some resolve returning to his expression and Steve smiled encouragingly, “You’ve got this, Tones.”
When Tony snorted and rolled his eyes, Steve patted his hand one more time and stood up slowly and explained, “I’m going to get some clean water to clean your chest so I can see the wound a little better, alright? I’ll be right back.”
Tony hummed and gave him a half-hearted thumbs up.
Grinning, Steve quickly went to get a bowl from one of the cabinets and halted in front of the sink again. He filled the bowl, feeling much more certain of himself than he did a few minutes ago. Turning the tap off, he walked back over and put the bowl next to the kit, grabbing a roll of gauze and letting it soak up the water. He turned to Tony, who had relaxed slightly, but the resigned look was still there. The engineer was tracking Steve’s movements sharp enough, though, so Steve was positive he wasn’t about to launch into a full-blown flashback.
Steve had to push down a grin at the sight of him when he sat back down. With one half of the shirt draped across his shoulder, the other still hanging down his front loosely, he looked endearingly lost.
Tony noticed the scrutiny and huffed, moving his good arm clumsily to pull the shirt away. Stepping closer to help him, they worked to get the remnants of the shirt off together.
“Eager to see more of me, hmm?” Tony commented with a slight wince as he was freed of his shirt, looking up at him from his seated position.
Steve hummed in return, keeping his tone light, “Oh, I’m not minding the view at all.”
He really didn’t. He kept his eyes firmly on Tony’s, but there was no denying that the genius was built like an athlete, lean and muscled. Hauling around hundreds of pounds of metal would do that to a body.
The genius’ expression turned disbelieving, even though he tried to hide it.
“Even with all this?” he asked as he pointed at the arc reactor and then at the wound, genuine insecurity bleeding through.
Steve narrowed his eyes a bit, allowing himself to smirk as he nudged the underside of Tony’s chin. “Well, if anything, it makes you look more rugged.”
Tony let out a surprised, short laugh at that, wonder in his eyes, before looking away and shaking his head, smile still there.
“I honestly can’t figure you out.”
“Hmm, I’m just happy to be here,” Steve said cheerily with a wink as he sat down again, reaching for the gauze and wringing it out. Tony watched him with a warmth Steve hadn’t seen a lot before, but he was happy for it. It meant he was distracted from his pain, 100% aware and with Steve in the here and now.
“Alright, I’m just going to clean the blood away now. Let me know if you need a break, but this shouldn’t hurt too much,” Steve said, keeping his voice and expression gentle.
“Yeah, go ahead,” Tony said, trying for a smile even as some of the tension returned to him. Tony sat up a little straighter, baring his chest to him as he cleared his throat slightly.
There was something there still, beyond his hesitancy to accept Steve’s care and concern. He figured it was something to do with his earlier flashback, but he wasn’t going to push now. There would be time for that later.
He went to work, wiping at the dried blotches of red on his chest, working toward the slice. The blood came away easy enough and Steve hummed happily. There wasn’t actually that much blood, so this must be from where the stitches were torn earlier. Tony must have actually properly cleaned the wound when they first came back from their mission and he smiled at the thought. It shouldn’t have surprised him, Tony was a functional adult after all, despite what he himself said.
He rinsed the gauze out and refocussed his efforts on the wound itself, starting at his shoulder.
“Might be a bit more tender now,” he muttered when he pressed the roll onto the edge, a small droplet of water running down Tony’s torso. A quick look at the genius revealed a relatively calm expression and watchful eyes following his hands.
He quickly made his way onto the pane of the genius’ chest, as there wasn’t that much blood to clean away, thankfully. The stitches had held admirably well. Tony winced slightly when he dragged the cotton across the area where a few stitches had torn and Steve muttered an apology. He moved on steadily, cleaning his way across his chest and leaving clean skin in his wake, all the while keeping an eye on Tony’s body language.
Tony tensed when he scrubbed the last bits of the angry line where it met the arc reactor on the middle of his chest. He paused briefly and saw a flash of anxiety pass across Tony’s face and his throat bobbed. He wasn’t told to stop, though, so after a few seconds of eye-contact, he resumed.
Bunching up the roll to clean the last bits of the wound, the material grated against the metal and Steve frowned, leaning closer ever so slightly. Was he seeing that right? The arc reactor seemed…
He sat back as he gasped in shock, eyes snapping to Tony’s as he uttered without thinking, “Jesus, Tony, is this thing inside your chest?”
Tony seemed to shrink away from his scrutiny, but he didn’t try to hide his anxiety from Steve this time. He maintained the eye contact with Steve, even though it seemed to cost him. The engineers’ shoulders hunched inward slightly and he could see Tony retreating into himself. The lack of a verbal answer said enough.
A lump formed in Steve’s throat and he absent-mindedly dropped the roll of gauze next to the bowl while his free hand went to rest on Tony’s chest next to the arc reactor. He could feel the genius’ heart hammering against his ribs in a rhythm that matched his own frantic beating and he grabbed hold of Tony’s limp hand, cradling it to his own chest.
Tony’s breath stuttered and he averted his gaze as Steve watched him grind his jaw. He didn’t know what to say.
“God, Tony, I never knew. I…” he trailed off, mouth dry.
This revelation just added a whole extra layer of complicated to the man that was Tony Stark. The thought of not only having been kept in sub-optimal living conditions – to put it in the mildest of ways – but to also return with a very much unwanted and intrusive reminder… Steve shuddered.
Of course Steve hadn’t known, couldn’t have known. But he should have wondered.
He could tell Tony was starting to panic, hand starting to shake in his and he was blinking furiously. He was still looking away, though, so his expression was hidden from Steve. Tony weakly tugged at his hand but Steve didn’t release it, instead pushing it flat against Steve’s chest.
“Tony, look at me. Breathe,” Steve spoke softly, his mind getting over the initial shock as he noticed the distress in the other.
Tony heaved in a breath and pushed it out between his teeth just as quickly, the motion almost seeming angry.
“That’s it, Tones. Just breathe,” he commended, eyes drawn to the arc reactor on Tony’s torso as it moved with his breathing. He tasted bile in the back of his throat as his mind conjured up scenarios of how it must have been placed—scenarios helped along with the memory of Tony’s flashback.
“Can you look at me, Tony?” he asked, as much for the sake of Tony’s wellbeing as his own.
He felt the engineer’s chest stutter under his palm as Tony’s next inhale snagged in his chest.
Tony shook his head once, tightly. “I don’t want to.”
He breathed past the hint of irritation that welled up at Tony’s tone, but Steve had long since learned how to look past his mask of indifference. He took a second to think, to revisit everything he knew about his stay in Afghanistan, but in the end he found the answer simply in the way Tony was wired.
Tony was showing weakness— and weakness was never a good thing for Stark men, least of all Tony Stark. Rejection was something Tony had had to deal with over and over again, and he was expecting it now, too. From Steve.
“Tony, this doesn’t change anything. It isn’t going to change how I look at you. Or how I feel about you, for that matter,” he said, a small smile creeping onto his face as he saw Tony’s face flicker briefly. It seems he’s hit the nail on its head.
The genius’ shoulders sagged minutely, before he tensed up again. Tony tried to pull his hand away a second time but Steve refused to let go. The genius took an aggravated breath and spoke up again in a tight voice, but there was misery leaking through, “Isn’t it? Don’t tell me you’re not feeling pity for me right now, Steve.”
Okay, so at least Tony believed his words. His face burned at Tony’s accusation, though, because he was right. He wouldn’t want to name his emotions ‘pity’ himself, but in a way he did pity the genius. Hopefully not in the way Tony was afraid of, though.
“Maybe so,” he began hesitantly, “but it doesn’t change anything, like I already told you, but I’ll keep repeating it until you believe me. I’m still not running away. You know what I’m seeing, why I’m feeling like this?”
Steve paused for a second, collecting his thoughts as Tony turned his head and met his eyes doubtfully. The genius was strung so tightly that Steve couldn’t help but feel pity, worsened by the uncertainty in Tony’s eyes.
“In front of me is a man that means so much to me that it hurts—a man that is good and honest and brave, who went through all of this and deserved not a single second of it. I can’t even begin to tell you how deeply sorry I am that you had to experience this, but whether I feel pity or not is beside the point.”
Tony’s hand stilled against his chest and Steve searched his face frantically. The reluctant hope in the engineers’ eyes made him power on, “Tony, you have been led to believe that showing emotion is a sign of weakness, that it’s a flaw. I can’t stress enough how wrong that assumption is.
“I see you, Tony, I see you and your experiences and all your masks and God, I see your strength. I would never think any less of you because of something that happened to you, something that was done to you. I’m not going anywhere, Tony,” he concluded, putting every single scrap of earnestness in him into those last few words.
They both breathed in the silence after his admission, simply looking at each other as the seconds passed.
The tension drained from Tony’s body and this time Steve allowed their hands to fall into Tony’s lap, interlacing their fingers. Steve ignored the minute tremble in Tony’s lower lip and watched as the genius shut his eyes and breathed deeply before nodding.
They stayed silent while Steve gently placed his hand on the back of Tony’s neck and pulled him in, cradling the genius’ body into the hollow of his upper body where they sat. He simply rubbed circles into Tony’s back and breathed in the scent of his hair for a while. It was a mix of his expensive cologne and motor oil, which was just so delightfully Tony. He marvelled at Tony’s warm breaths against his neck.
He considered his next words very carefully, “Do you need to talk about it?”
Need to, because knowing Tony, he’d likely never want to talk about any of it.
Tony stayed silent for a while, but he didn’t tense up in his arms.
“I can’t,” the genius muttered into his shirt, before correcting himself, “I don’t know how to.”
The openness of his voice tugged at Steve’s heartstrings and he hummed, “Alright.”
He could wait until Tony found the words, however long it would take him.
Tony sighed loudly and pulled away from him, sitting up and wiping at his face, “God, I need a coffee.”
Steve snorted, releasing his hold, “You need sleep.”
Tony shrugged his good shoulder with a slight grin and an eye-roll.
“Sure. Just get on with it, Cap,” he said with a hint of his usual humour in his voice. “I assume you want to stitch me back up?”
Steve nodded, allowing Tony to braze past the vulnerability of the moment.
“Yeah I just want to do a few here,” he said while indicating the area in the middle where a few of the stitches had popped earlier. “Looks like you tore a few.”
“Ah, yes. I’m afraid my ass is not going to be as nice as usual to look at for a while. Unless you prefer it blue, of course,” Tony said, raising one eyebrow in a challenge and Steve huffed a laugh.
“If you don’t shut up, Stark, I swear…” Steve began, not bothering to finish his threat as Tony’s smirk grew at his exasperation. He flicked Tony’s hand, earning him a mocking gasp as the genius jerked his arm back and Steve grinned at him before focussing again.
Deciding he’s done enough cleaning, he leaned in to confirm the suspicion he’d formed earlier. It looked like five of the stitches Tony had placed had torn during his fall. Upon closer inspection, that proved to be true, and while the three in the middle had gotten lost somewhere, the two around the edges were still embedded in Tony’s skin. Great.
“I’ll have to pull the stitches out first. ‘S not gonna feel too nice, but I’ll be quick,” Steve told the other man, while he reached out for the tweezers.
“Okay,” Tony simply answered, and he leaned back again slightly, carefully bracing his weight on his good arm behind him.
Once he had better access to the genius’ chest, he leaned forward and with a last look at Tony, he reached with the pliers to grab hold of the first one.
“Is it bothering you?” Steve asked when the pliers closed around the thread. “Your ass?”
Just as Tony let out a surprised laugh, Steve pulled on the stitch, dragging it out of the wound.
“Ow!” Tony exclaimed, looking at him with a surprised smirk, something like glee on his features.
“Two can play the game, Tony,” Steve said with a quick wink in Tony’s direction. He placed the bit of thread on the gauze he’d dropped earlier, before moving on to the next one.
“Not really, by the way. It’s definitely bruised, though,” Tony answered his question and he winced again as Steve plucked out the other stitch quickly.
Droplets of blood welled up and Steve swiftly pressed another piece of gauze against it, trying to be gentle now that the wound was gaping slightly. Tony still winced when the fabric came to rest against inflamed skin.
“Too bad. Means I have no excuse to wrangle you out of your pants tonight,” Steve said evenly as he plucked the needle and thread off the nightstand, but his heart skipped a beat at his open flirting.
Tony gaped openly at him, “Who even are you?”
Steve looked up from where he’d fed the thread into the needle and grinned, before turning slightly apologetic.
“Sorry, I guess it’s shitty bedside manners to flirt with my injured patient,” Steve admitted. Tony simply looked at him, something fond in his expression as he searched for a reply.
“No, it’s… it’s nice. It’s distracting me from the…” the genius said as he tapped his finger against the arc reactor.
Steve smiled at him, the way Tony just gave him that piece of information freely, while he twirled his finger around the thread.
That had been his intention after all, but it’s nice to know it’s appreciated. “Good to know.”
He was incredibly happy with how relaxed Tony was at the moment. The genius sat back on the bed, still leaning his weight slightly onto his good arm to give Steve better access, but his breathing had evened out. He was watching Steve quite attentively, but his expression had changed so much from the anxiety he’d been broadcasting earlier. He had tilted his head slightly to watch Steve fondly.
“I’m just gonna stitch you up now. Five, I think.”
Tony hummed. “Okay, good. I think the meds are kicking in. I’m starting to feel a little loopy,” he said with a slight smile.
Steve smiled back and leant forward to get back to work. Silence settled over them once again as Steve placed the stitches as carefully as possible, keeping an eye on Tony’s body for signs of distress. Asides from the occasional shudder or hiss, the genius remained mostly relaxed, thankfully.
Tying off the last stitch, he let out a soft breath and looked up to find Tony already watching him. His eyes had taken on something more troubled, but he didn’t seem upset or anxious, so Steve figured he was thinking, like Tony sometimes did.
“All done. Last up is disinfecting, and then you can sleep for however long you want,” he said, patting Tony’s thigh as he grabbed the disinfectant and yet another piece of gauze. “This is the good stuff, Betadine. Doesn’t sting as much as hydrogen peroxide.”
Tony visibly shivered at the mention of the disinfectant, smiling at Steve. “Thank goodness for you, Spangles.”
Steve began applying the antiseptic, spreading it along the wound with the cotton with gentle, steady hands. He worked his way across the wound, starting from the shoulder again and it left behind yellowish stains around the cut. Taking extra care around the fresh stitches, he was so concentrated on his task that he nearly jumped out of his skin when Tony suddenly spoke up.
“It happened in Afghanistan. They, uh…” his voice trailed off. When Steve looked up to meet his eyes, the engineer quickly looked away. “No, don’t—please don’t look at me. It’s, uh… it’s easier that way.”
Steve swallowed but he looked down again with a nod. He hadn’t expected Tony to open up to him tonight about this, but he’d take whatever the engineer would give him.
Tony remained silent for a while, and he heard him trying to calm himself with slow breaths. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see him closing his eyes for a second. When he spoke up, Tony’s voice was so anguished that his stomach clenched.
“They broke my ribs, Steve. They—I was held down while they cut me open. They cracked my ribs apart, split my fucking chest open while I was awake beneath their hands.”
A wave of cold ice swept across Steve’s body and he had to fight to keep his hands steady on Tony’s chest, to not look up at him to see his expression. His throat tightened to the point where it was painful when he heard Tony shudder.
“Then they… they removed—God,” Tony cut himself off when his voice broke, the word sounding almost like a sob.
Steve couldn’t help himself, his eyes snapped up to Tony and his heart broke. He had his eyes clenched shut, lashes clumping together with unshed tears, and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip.
“They cut around in my chest and hacked into my lungs, my ribs,” Tony continued brokenly, but no tears fell as he opened his eyes and bore into Steve’s. “I felt a hand on my heart, Steve. Christ that fucked me up. And it hurt. They shoved the housing in there and it—it was agony. Absolute agony.”
Tony paused for a second, before whispering to him urgently, “I felt all of it.”
Steve felt wholly frozen in place. There was no way of conveying the horror he felt at Tony’s words, the way his heart was thumping painfully against his ribs at the image Tony had just created inside his mind. Tony himself, somehow, seemed to recover from his own horror. Despite all he had just said, he still did not tense or shrink away, he just seemed desperate.
“I can’t… I can’t talk about this stuff, because there is no way to downplay it. It’s just… it just is. It’s gruesome and nauseating and there’s so much more that I don’t even the strength to talk about.”
Steve didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything he hadn’t already said and one look at Tony told him he wasn’t expecting him to. So he listened.
The genius seemed to shake himself out, put himself back on track and he continued, although his expression remained slightly desperate, “At first, when I came back from—when I came back, I didn’t even remember most of the details. Guess I must have suppressed it, so I could deal with it later.”
Tony gave him a sad smile that they both knew meant to deal with it never.
Steve slowly put his hand on Tony’s thigh again, not knowing if touch would be appreciated at the moment, but he relaxed when Tony shifted his weight off his arm so he could place his hand on top of Steve’s. The engineer began stroking his hand as if Steve was the one in need of comfort.
“But then… Obie—Stane,” he corrected himself with a tilt of his head, “he, uh…”
Tony trailed off again, worrying his lip between his teeth. Steve knew who the man was, of course, he’d acted as Tony’s father figure for a big part of his life. He also knew that their parting was less than amical, but he never got the full story. He was dreading it now, though.
“He stole the arc reactor,” Tony said with a pained expression, though his voice remained carefully neutral, “Came into my house, paralysed me and ripped it out of me while he loomed over me.”
Steve’s heart sank. The things this man has gone through… It was a miracle he was still standing. Standing strong.
“God, that’s so hard to talk about. I don’t…” Tony’s voice died again, his eyes glazing over for a second. He quickly recovered and pushed on with a gentler expression.
“Anyway, after that whole ordeal, everything crashed back into my mind, but I hardly had the time to deal with it back then. There is so much I should tell you but I don’t have words for it, not right now.”
Steve merely nodded. His mind was reeling with emotions but he pushed his own turmoil away for now. If Tony could deal with this, then so could he.
“The injury… I’m sorry I hid it from the team, from you, but it felt too raw, you know? It brought back too many memories from then and I didn’t want to deal with it now,” Tony admitted and Steve was still wondering how the hell he was talking about this so freely, admiring his conviction.
“But I guess my brain had other ideas about that, didn’t it?” he asked without any venom in his voice, a knowing smile on his face Steve couldn’t help but mirror. “I had a panic attack down in the workshop earlier, I think that’s what triggered the… episode, in the kitchen.”
Tony looked slightly bemused at his choice of words for his flashback, but Steve obliged him with a smile.
He pushed down the wave of guilt as he remembered himself standing over Tony, who had fallen to the ground as Steve approached. It was no wonder that that image would have pushed him into a frenzy after what he'd gone through. Twice.
Steve swallowed tightly and squeezed the engineers' leg under his hand. He would apologise for that later, but he already knew Tony wouldn't blame anyone other than himself.
When the genius remained silent, Steve realised he was done speaking on this matter and he let some of the pride he felt appear on his face.
“You’re incredible, Tony. You survived. You made it through all of that.”
Tony sat back gingerly and inhaled deeply, air filling his chest and he breathed out long and slow, before he chuckled lowly, “Yeah, I guess I did, huh?”
He regarded Steve for a second, a strangely content look on his face and Steve felt his body relax as well. Tony’s eyes landed on the antiseptic still in Steve’s hand and he laughed.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Steve cut him off with a wave and smirked, “All good. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
Tony nodded and blew out another breath, “Yeah, me neither.”
He seemed to hesitate for a second before he added, “I’m glad I did, though. It feels… better.”
And then that warm feeling settled back into Steve’s chest and he smiled up at the genius broadly.
“I’m glad,” he said earnestly. Tony patted his hand and sighed airily, eyes warm and content in a way Steve hadn’t seen in a while.
“Feel free to, you know, wrap it up,” Tony spoke up and with a soft smile, Steve resumed his cleaning, but the most of it had already been done. Another flash of joy went through him when Tony didn’t even flinch when he wiped at the last section against the arc reactor. He finished it up and sat back to admire his work, dropping the gauze next to the other cloths.
“I’ll leave it uncovered for tonight, that should probably help speed up the healing.”
There were so many other things he wanted to say, wanted to ask, but he knew it wasn’t the time. Tony’s demeanour told him there would be plenty of opportunities in the future.
Tony’s eyelids started to droop slightly when neither of them said anything and Steve smirked.
“I think it’s best if you go to sleep, Tony.”
“No argument from me there, Cap,” he groaned tiredly, before looking up at him. “Can you give me a hand?”
Steve nodded with a smile and got up out of his chair, stretching slightly before going to steady Tony by his armpits. With a slight grunt, the genius got upright and leaned his weight heavily against Steve’s side.
Reaching out with one hand, Steve managed to pull the covers back enough so Tony could crawl straight back into the bed. He helped Tony sit and lean his weight back so he could finally lie down while Steve moved his legs under the covers. When the engineer seemed properly settled in, Steve pulled the blanket back up and draped it on top of Tony, tucking it in against his side slightly.
Tony had already closed his eyes when he stepped back and he watched him for a second. Steve felt bone-tired, drained by the stress and concern he’d felt ever since that damned HYDRA takedown. Tony’s face looked strangely peaceful now, with his eyes closed and frown lines smoothed over by exhaustion.
He suddenly felt at a loss of what to do. He’d done what he’d said—he’d patched Tony up and managed to get him into bed so he could sleep. He felt weirdly bereft as he took another step back, glancing over at the elevator. When he looked back over to the bed, he found Tony’s eyes on him, and he knew straight away that the genius felt the same.
“Stay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Steve replied with a smile.