Insomnia - Tony
You grumbled bitterly as you stalked down the hallways of the Compound, trying to find where the damn lab was. The only light in the hallways was the light blue line that guided you, as directed by F.R.I.D.A.Y.
It went at your pace, lighting up where you were and only where you were. Your husband of four years was off messing with some machine in the middle of the night, and it was up to you to get him to actually sleep for once.
Often, Tony Stark could run solely on four cups of coffee and a cheeseburger, and you had even resorted to hiding the coffee pot a few times, just to keep him from getting another cup.
“Anthony Edward Stark.” You called into the large lab, storming past machines and tools as you searched for your husband.
“Y/n Stark.” Tony gulped, knowing that he was caught.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Show time?” You fumed as he quoted a fucking musical.
“It is one-fucking-thirty in the morning.”
“One thirty in the morning.” He said, nodding over-enthusiastically.
“Why the fuck are you not in bed?”
“I have..work. I have work to do.” He settled on his answer, and you stared at him blankly, unfooled by his nonsense. “You’re holding the wrench upside-down.” You pointed out. His gaze flicked to his hand, where he was, in fact, holding the wrench upside-down.
“That was intentional.”
You began to circle his ‘project’ which, to you, looked like a…car? Half of a washing machine? You couldn’t exactly tell. “Right. And what the hell is this, anyway?”
“It’s the start of a..something.”
You glanced at him, finally taking in his appearance. His eye bags were dark, his hair a mess and his shirt stained with sweat and other liquids that belonged in a lab.
“Tony. Your eye bags are darker than Bucky’s jokes.”
“They’re Gucci.” He commented.
“And your hair’s a mess. You need sleep, love. You’re exhausted.” You took a step closer to him, cupping his cheek with your hand. “What’s keeping you awake?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed, his hands resting on your hips. “I just..can’t. It’s either nightmares or anxiety. I try, but it just doesn’t..stick. So I come down here.”
“Tony.” You breathed out, frowning. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
"What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, I'm a grown man and I can't sleep because of a couple of bad dreams'?"
“Tony—being grown or a man has nothing to do with that, and you know it. If they get bad, you can tell me. If the insomnia gets bad, you can tell me. I want to help you, because I love you.”
He says nothing, letting his arm drop to his side. He stares down at his hand, still fiddling with the wrench. “What am I gonna do if I can’t protect you?” He whispered, never looking up at you.
“Is that what’s going on? Babe, I’m safe. You’re safe. We’re all perfectly safe, living in literally the safest place in America. You can rest. Nothing dramatic or drastic is going to happen for the next few hours.” You assured him, rubbing his bicep a few times to comfort him. “I swear.”
“That’s what we thought last time. Then they sent a missile to New York.”
“There will be no missiles. None. You..you don’t even have to sleep all night. It’s already almost 2:00 AM. If you really can’t sleep, you can come right back down. But you need to at least try. Please.”
He took a deep breath, before nodding. “Fine.”
——————————
Tony let himself crawl into your arms, laying his head on your chest as you wrapped your arm around him.
The faint glow of the arc reactor through his shirt was the only light in your spacious bedroom, decorated with picture frames on the walls and bookshelves filled with books and other trinkets.
“Good night, Tony.” You murmured into his hair, and he made a small noise in response.
He let his eyes close, and he didn’t fight the warm embrace of sleep.
In his sleep, the same familiar nightmare played out. The streets of New York were filled with screaming people. Tony always stood in the middle of the street. He'd look up to find a portal in the sky. More and more of the Chitauri forces flew out of it, crashing into buildings.
Up on the balcony of Stark Tower was you and Loki. You cried out and pleaded for help, for rescue. Loki had his scepter's sharp edge pressed to the back of your head.
In front of Tony was all of the Avengers. His friends, his family. They all laid in a large pile, broken and battered and undeniably dead. Steve's shield lay next to his mangled corpse, broken in two. Natasha was next to him, her body bent at an odd angle. Bruce, or rather, the Hulk, was at the bottom of the pile, a large sword thing planted in his chest, pinning him to the ground below like a dart to a dartboard.
Tony had no armor. No armor, no friends, and no way to solve this. He knew that this was his fault. He had his chance to protect everything and everyone he loved--to put a suit of armor around the world. And he didn't take it.
And now the whole world was paying for his mistake. You, his whole world, were paying for his mistake.
——————————
"Tony. Tony!" You called his name, and he woke up from his nightmare.
"Jesus fuck." He gasped. He clutched at his arc reactor, tapping it a few times.
"Hey. Just a dream. Just a dream." You soothed. "Just a dream, sweetheart. Promise."
He nodded, exhaling loudly. "Fuck this."
"Yeah." You nodded, tipping your head slightly. "I know. C'mere. It's four in the morning. You should try and fall back asleep." You scooted closer to him, and you could see him get ready to protest. "None of that. You need rest."
"Fine. Fine." He caved, taking you in his arms. You didn't protest. In your mind, if he felt better holding you like this, than that's what you'd let him do.
"Goodnight, Tony."
You were answered with soft, gentle snoring.