Tony stares down at half-crumpled piece of paper before him. He can just hear Pepper scolding him. Can almost feel Rhodey's sturdy hands leading him to bed, telling him it's a bad idea. That he's not obligated. He doesn't owe anyone anything.
He ignores the thoughts. The guilt. He grabs his pen, inhales a suffocating breath, and begins to write his apologies to Steve Rogers.
Hello, Steve,
It's 5:36 right now. In the morning. But he doesn't have to include that. Lately, he hasn't been sleeping. He's gotten to the point where he isn't even tired anymore. I guess I'm just writing this because I miss you, too. It's been a year and a half. I've talked to everyone, and if you want, you guys will be pardoned. There's still room for you here. I haven't touched anything. It's all yours. And tell Barnes I'm sorry, please.
Thanks,
Tony.
He mails it out before he can regret it.
***
They don't come back for another two months after that. Tony mostly avoids them, at first. While he did miss them, mainly Steve, he's not willing to forget just how fresh his wounds really are.
Natasha approaches him one day. She's all scowls and clenched fists but so composed at the same time.
When she speaks her voice isn't mad. It's soft, and maybe cold, but not mad. She holds Tony's hand and tells him about Bucky and Steve. His heart aches, but he knew this was bound to happen. She squeezes his hand one last time.
He thanks her and shrugs. Feels shitty.
"I guess I just thought what we had was good," he allows himself to say as Natasha is about to leave. Her eyes fill with a certain pity that she must want him to see.
"Steve thought so, too, Tony. Break ups are hard for everyone."
Tony scowls. He doesn't like that. Break ups. He bites back the urge to say something about being beaten with a shield by his ex boyfriend. Clenches his jaw and grins instead. "I suppose they are, Tasha."
He watches in sullen silence as Natasha leaves him to handle his thoughts alone.
***
To his surprise, it's Bucky who approaches him next. The guy is too jumpy. It makes Tony feel like someone or something's going to explode at any second.
"Stark," he greets, and his voice doesn't shake. Tony knows what this means, can read Barnes like an open book because he's spent years perfecting the Always Happy facade. He knows the deal.
"Barnes," Tony answers, and rolls his chair to face the former assassin. It's always the assassins, isn't it? God must have sent them to make him feel bad about himself.
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about you and Steve."
Tony bristles. He can't help it. It's been a year and a half, for fucks sake. He's spent enough time spewing in his own self pity, and now Natasha and Bucky are ganging up on him?
He kicks Bucky out of the workshop. He supposes he'll get a lecture from Steve later, but he'll worry when the time comes.
***
He especially avoids Wanda. Which sucks, because her and Vision have that thing going. And Vision adores Tony, Tony can tell. So, it's a pain.
But it's worth it. She sets him on edge.
That's one of the three things Barnes and him have in common, Tony decides one evening as he's sprawled on the couch watching Bucky cuddle with Steve in the recliner.
#1: Hiding.
#2: Wanda's fucking scary.
#3: In love with Steve Rogers.
***
Tony stumbles into the common room at 5:36. Eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying, hands shaking violently from the many panic attacks he'd dealt with that night.
Steve's there. Of course he'd be. Tony knows Steve wakes up at five every morning; he'd dealt with it for three years, after all.
"Tony?" Steve asks, and stands immediately. What Tony didn't bank on, though, was the chance that Bucky would be there, too. He stands as Steve does, and makes his way to Tony twice as fast.
"Have you been up all night, Doll?" Bucky's voice is quiet. Soothing. His hands grasp at Tony's arms, and he's too tired to flinch away.
"I think you have a fever, Tones," Steve murmurs, frowning.
Tones. Tony lets out a half-laugh, half-sob. Tones. Steve hadn't called him that since the break up.
"He's burning up, Stevie. Should we take him to the hospital?"
"No, c'mon. We'll just keep an eye on him."
Both of their hands are guiding him now. He thinks he must have spaced out, too, because one second he's standing on hard tile and the next he's lying in a soft bed.
Not his, though. Not his bed.
Two supersoldiers lay on either side of him. He processes that he should feel trapped. But instead he just feels nauseous, and cold. So cold.
***
The panic comes when he wakes up. He chokes. He's choking, he can't breathe, they're surrounding him, he's trapped. He gags, and tries to make it to the bathroom, but instead he falls into the floor with a loud thump and heaves up his guts there.
He should feel embarrassed, but Bucky's rubbing little circles onto his back and Steve's already getting stuff to clean up the mess Tony has made.
"I didn't even drink," Tony croaks out the joke, because that's what he does best. His head aches.
"I know, Tony," Bucky agrees, and pulls Tony a little closer. "Why don't you go back to bed? Steve and I will clean up."
Tony wants to argue. So badly.
He doesn't.
***
It's always 5:36, Tony decides with a strangled laugh. Fuck.
He's on his fourth cup of coffee. FRIDAY has been giving him the silent treatment for at least two hours.
He's so tired. But he wants to do this one thing.
Finally.
He lets out a relieved sign.
***
The sleepless nights have been worth it, Tony decides, and he sees the raw delight in Bucky's eyes at the new arm.
It's for his birthday.
He pushes away the guilt. The guilt that builds because he knows he's digging himself, Barnes, and Rogers into a big, deep hole.
He likes them both. And it's going to ruin them.
***
Tony had been surprised, at first. When Bucky said he wanted a rager for his birthday. But Tony does ragers well, so he had agreed with a wide, toothy grin and a nod.
He's going to regret this, probably. He should've just copied Wanda and Vision, who had opted for a quiet night alone out in the city.
But Shots is thrumming through the compound, and everyone's cheering him on, and somewhere along the way he'd gotten shirtless.
So he does exactly what the song says. And takes a few shots. And a few more. He knows how to do it. By the time the song's over, he's hammered, but he doesn't care.
He hasn't partied like this in years. It feels good, actually. Freeing.
A hand presses against his back and startles him. Steve. He sort of wants to run away. He's mostly too drunk to care, though.
"Tony!" Steve yells over the music. "Have you seen Bucky?"
"Nope!" Tony answers, and then hesitantly grinds back against Steve because the song is just asking for it, you know? And Steve used to love it. Bucky doesn't even cross his drunken mind.
Steve lets out a sort of choked sound that Tony can just barely hear. He takes a step back, and Tony should feel bitter, but he's just disappointed. He lets out a needy whine and turns to face Steve.
"You're drunk," Steve offers in explanation, and smiles somewhat apologetically.
Tony shrugs. A waste of a song. But he's not an asshole enough to force it on Steve, so he backs off to go find Clint. Clint won't mind, and they've talked about it a thousand times before.
Clint is more than happy to let Tony grind all over him, and Natasha watches with a raised, amused eyebrow. She looks like she's barely holding in laughter, and Tony wonders if he's just gotten sloppy on his twerking skills or if it really is just that funny to see Clint in such a compromised position.
When the song ends, Clint pulls away with a hearty laugh. Tony can't help but join in.
Eventually, after sharing a few laughs with Clint and Natasha, Bucky pulls him away. "Stevie was looking for you!" Tony slurs, and wraps his arms around Bucky's neck, pulling him in closer.
"I know, Doll! I talked to him already."
"What'd he sayyyy?" Tony prompts, curiosity overriding caution.
"Nothing much, but Thor left and I think the others are gonna follow after soon." And, oh. Bucky's lips are pressed right against his ear, his voice a sultry whisper.
Tony's knees wobble. "I don't wanna stop dancing," he complains, and leans up on tippy toes to drag his teeth against Bucky's neck. Bucky doesn't immediately throw him off, so he takes it as a positive sign. He doesn't pursue any further, though, for his own sake.
"I'm supposed to take you to bed," Bucky disagrees. "You're drunk out of your mind and I think you're danced out for the night, Tones."
"Take me to bed!" Tony chirps, and he's definitely just overdoing it on purpose now, but the look on Bucky's face is worth it.
Sadly, Bucky does not take him to bed in the way Tony wants. But at least he bothered to respect Tony.
***
Tony wakes with a throbbing head. He stares at the ceiling for a long minute. Feels empty. Feels embarrassed.
The events of last night are fresh in his mind. He wishes he'd been drunk enough to forget, but the novelty of that wore off years ago, anyway.
At least it's dark. The windows are dimmed, blocking out all light from the outside world. The lights are off, too, and he's grateful. He feels around, and his hands land on a few pills and a glass of water on his nightstand.
Good.
He takes the painkillers and chugs the water. It soothes his dry throat and almost instantly brightens his mood.
After a few more minutes of listening to his thoughts, he rolls out of bed. FRIDAY turns on the lights, makes sure they're dimmed, and he shuffles to his bathroom.
He doesn't really have the energy to shower, so he just splashes his face and brushes his foul tasting teeth. Tony stares at himself. His eyes are sunken, with deep circles painted underneath him. He looks old, and wonders when it got so bad.
"FRY, time?"
"5:36 PM, Sunday evening, sir."
He lets out a bitter, reserved laugh, and makes his way to the kitchen. Food. He could definitely go for some tacos.
When he reaches the kitchen, Vision is hovering quietly. Tony waves at him, earning a sharp nod in return. Vision doesn't speak, just keeps him company in comfortable silence.
"Coffee?" Tony asks FRIDAY, and the coffee maker immediately whirs life. He grabs a pan and turns the stove on, then tosses some tortillas onto the counter just in time for Steve and Bucky to stroll in.
"Feeling okay, Tones?" Steve asks, polite as always. Tony can't get a read on his expression. It's neutral. Bucky, however, looks ever so amused and isn't even bothering to hide it.
"Heard you got a lil frisky with Stevie last night, Doll." Bucky doesn't sound angry. Tony's relieved, because really, during his interactions with each of them he'd completely forgotten the other even existed, much less that they were dating.
"Sorry," he mumbles and dumps some fake chicken onto the pan. He needs to buy more food, if all they've got left is the vegetarian stuff.
"No worries," Bucky assures, and oh. He's right behind Tony now, pressed entirely too close. "You got a little frisky with me, too."
"Drunk," Tony offers with a frown, even though Bucky can't see it. "Won't happen again."
Bucky backs off after that. When Tony turns to get cheese and sour cream from the fridge, he doesn't dare look to see what Bucky's expression might be like.
It's better if they just think it was drunken shenanigans, after all.
***
Tony doesn't see either of them again for a week.
When he does, it's raining. He's not sure why Steve's awake, it's so late.
"Hey," Steve greets. His voice is gentle. Reserved.
"Hi," Tony answers meekly. He rubs a hand against his wet hair. "Sure is storming." As if in emphasis, thunder crackles above them, shaking the compound.
"You always liked the storms," Steve murmurs, and slowly positions himself by Tony's side, leaning over the balcony railing with him.
"Some things never change," Tony confirms, and looks at Steve. Studies him. "Why aren't you with Buckaboo?"
"Oh, he needed some time alone." There's more there. Tony can tell, but he doesn't want to push. Luckily, Steve continues on his own accord. "Actually, we got into a fight."
"Oh." Tony hopes his voice doesn't sound as strangled as he thinks it does. Something in his heart twists. Hurts.
"I know it must be awful, huh? For me to talk to you about this."
Tony gives him a half-hearted shrug.
"I guess he's just torn up about us. Like, he feels like he's the reason our relationship crashed and burned."
"Isn't he, though?" Tony can't help the venom creeping into his voice. "Sorry, it's not directly his fault. Just…"
"I get it," Steve sighs, resigned. His hand creeps to Tony's, and he lays it on top, intertwining their fingers. "I guess a lot of it is my own unresolved feelings."
Tony cocks his head in question at that.
"I mean, you must know by now that I was never going to stop loving you, Tony. We shared a lot of trauma, and we have a history."
Tony can't speak. Has to remind himself not to panic. Sucks in a staggering breath.
"I just… I guess it's always been Bucky, you know? Things were different back then, but it was still him. And now, there's so much here. Have you ever heard of polyamorus?"
"Like a threesome?" Tony asks and suddenly feels a lot more intrigued than he did before.
"No, not quite. A relationship. With more than two people."
"Oh," Tony says stupidly. Steve gives his hand a comforting squeeze. "No, I guess I haven't really heard of that."
"You should look into it." Is that a suggestion? An offer? Tony can't tell. He used to be so good at reading people. He isn't anymore.
"I will," Tony promises, and wants to leave. The skin to skin contact is getting to be too much. Instead, he murmurs, "it was raining the night we kissed."
Steve lets out a soft noise. "It was, just like this." He turns to Tony then, and they're really close. Tony looks up. Stares into Steve's blue eyes. For a second, just a second- he thinks they might kiss. He's prepared. He wants to.
But Steve's steps back. "I better go check on Bucky. Things are good between us, right, Tony? We're friends?"
So was I.
"Of course, Cap," Tony assures him. Looks back out at the night sky. He's starting to get cold, and he's soaked to the bone. But he doesn't want to go in yet.
Steve leaves him there after another moment, and Tony crumbles. Tears make their way down his already wet cheeks, and a sob shakes his body.
"I miss him," he says, not sure if he's talking to himself, FRIDAY, or some other entity. "I miss him so much."
The only answer he receives is thunder rumbling in the distance.
***
Tony stumbles up from his workshop. He's not completely sure what time it is, but he knows it must be early morning.
He freezes in place when he sees Bucky sitting on the recliner. He's upright, eyes staring into the distance. He looks uncomfortably rigid, and Tony shudders.
The Winter Soldier?
He had not bargained for this. All he had wanted was a bagel and to make an honest to God latte.
Still. He clears his throat and tells himself not to panic. That Bucky wouldn't hurt him. "Bucky," he greets. He's not sure where he stands when it comes to Bucky…relapsing. Usually it's Steve who deals with it. Tony has no idea where he is, though.
"Tones," Bucky smiles slightly. Just a little bit. Tony relaxes immediately, surprised that Bucky's voice is just as calm and relaxing as ever.
"Can I sit?" Tony carefully prods.
"Sure thing," Bucky mumbles. Tony sits on the couch beside the chair, and finds himself staring. "Sorry you have to see this. Sometimes it just gets bad, y'know?"
"I know," Tony whispers. He curls his hands into fists and feels his nails dig into the skin. He counts to four. Releases. Sets one hand on the arm of the couch and the other on his lap. They're shaking. He's not afraid of Bucky. He's not. "Days can be bad sometimes for me, too."
Bucky snorts. "We're all just a bunch of walking trauma-bags, aren't we?"
"I guess so." Tony forces a laugh. Pauses. "You don't have to still be sorry, you know? For anything. My parents. My relationship with Steve."
"He said he talked to you about it," Bucky says, and faces him. His eyes burn into Tony's, and he shivers.
"I'm sorry," Tony blurts out. "For when I attacked you. And I'm also sorry because Steve held my hand the other night, and told me he still loves me."
"I know."
"You do?"
"We tell each other things, Tony. That was half your issue. You and Steve didn't communicate."
Tony's shoulders slump. He scowls. Watches his shaking hands. "I'm not trying to ruin you and Steve's relationship," he finally manages. "Really. I just like fooling around. I'm a great booty call."
"For a genius, you sure are stupid."
Tony grimaces. Scoffs. "I don't know what you mean, but I don't care."
"You'll figure it out someday," Bucky sighs, exasperated. "Until then, you should probably sleep. You're up late every night."
"I came here to get a bagel, actually. Then I was-"
"C'mon, Doll. Bagel it is."
"And a latte."
"Not unless it's decaf."
"That ruins the point, Buckaboo. But fine. I'll deal with just a bagel."
"And then I'm going to take you to bed," Bucky murmurs. Tony's lips curl into a sad half-smile. He nods slowly. Blinks.
Winks. Smooth recovery.
Once again, Bucky doesn't take him to bed in quite the way he wants.
***
"Hey," Clint snaps, and shoves Tony backward. "Fuck off."
Tony sucks in a breath. It's not really Clint. He knows that. It doesn't make it any easier, though. At least it's not Steve or Bucky.
Just as he's about to blow Clint-clone to smithereens, a sharp ringing drones through the air. Tony momentarily loses his bearings. When he gains them back, Clint-clone is gone, as well as all the other clones.
He skips medical. Sneaks into his lab and locks it down. Sits on his cot and stares up at the ceiling solemnly.
That battle had drained him. Mentally and physically. He's badly bruised, and has a broken toe, but other than that he's okay.
It's fine. Really.
He rolls over and stands. Makes himself coffee on auto-pilot.
"Sometimes I wish things were different," he tells FRIDAY. "I wish that the Accords never happened. That Bucky didn't come back, and Steve and I were one silly fight away from running off together."
"I'm sorry, Boss."
"I like Bucky. A lot. And Steve. It just sucks. I can't have either of them. I miss having one of them."
"Could I recommend telling them of your feelings?"
"FRIDAY," Tony scolds, and that's the last of it.
***
Tony's exhausted. He's had press conferences back to back all day, and now the sun is already setting in the sky. He wishes it was still bright out, so he could enjoy a quick walk to stretch his legs. Instead, he eases down into the common room chair and FRIDAY turns on the TV for him without being asked.
Steve sits down beside him, Bucky following suit. "Long day?" Steve inquires, voice conversational.
"Aren't they all?" Tony laughs, eyes focused pointedly on the screen. He doesn't want to look at either of them right now, not when he's so close to crumbling. To falling apart.
Usually, it wouldn't get to him. He's not entirely sure why it decided to affect him so much this time around. But the facts are: he wants to cry. Panic. Hide. Anything.
"You really shouldn't listen to them," Bucky chides as if he can read Tony's mind. "I don't know what they said, but whatever it is, it's not true."
"What makes you think they said anything?" Tony shoots back, bitter. "They just reminded me of shit, is all. And I'm sick of defending your guy's asses. I'm the one who always has to- has to fucking deal with it. Not anyone else. Me." He scrambles to his feet. Throws his hands in the air threateningly. He's had it. "I let you guys back in. I made a leap of faith, a judgement call. Not just for my sake, but for everyone's. And it hasn't backfired yet. In fact, it's going surprisingly well, all things considered. But I'm so tired of being the one who has to deal with shit."
Bucky and Steve flinch in unison at Tony's rising voice. He doesn't care. He keeps going. "They think I did it for me. Because of my fucking relationship. Why would I do this for me? After the shit Rogers pulled in Siberia, I didn't want you guys to come back. I never wanted that. But I felt like I owed it to you, and to New York. This was never about me. It's always been about everyone else."
He pauses, to catch his breath.
"But you know what?" The heat slowly drains from his voice. It cracks, a little, but he'll never admit that. "I like that you guys are here. I like it, and I hate that I like it. Because it really fucking sucks. Watching the man you fell in love with fall for someone else. And then having to cope alone for one and a half years. And then getting him back, but only to find out he's dating that someone else." His shoulders sag in defeat. "I like you guys. I just. I can't deal with the press right now. I'm sorry for taking it out on you."
Steve and Bucky sit in stunned silence. Tony resists the urge to scream. They had to see this coming, right? Tony's always one blink away from breaking down. He knows it's got to be obvious.
Eventually, Bucky stands. He doesn't say anything, just pulls Tony into a warm hug. Steve follows suit.
Tony's heart aches. He could get used to this. But he doesn't think he'll ever get the chance.
***
Steve sets down a bowl of pasta in front of Tony. Tony frowns, glancing up from his work to eye Steve questioningly.
"I made Alfredo, and thought you might like it. It's gluten free."
"Real chicken?" Tony asks hopefully.
"Real chicken. The grocery order came in yesterday."
"Oh, good," Tony says, and digs in. He can't quite remember the last time he ate. He smiles at Steve through a mouthful of noodles, then after swallowing continues, "did the team have any plans?”
Steve frowns. “Tony, it’s 5:36 in the morning. When Bucky and I came back from our run, we realized you never even went to bed.”
“So… pasta for breakfast?” Tony grins cheekily at him, unphased. 5:36.
“Yes-”
The Avengers alarm sceams. Tony holds in a groan, and Steve jumps to his feet and rushes out of the workshop so he can get suited up.
***
He finds himself eye to eye with a wizard. He’s had just about enough of these wizards; they’re always trouble. Tony turns his gaze to Wanda, who glares back at him, as if to say: I dare you to assume I’m working with this fucker. Fair enough.
“Tony Stark,” the wizard speaks, and his voice is void of all emotion. Tony shivers, flexing his fingers defensively. “Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton.” It hesitates. “Natasha Romanova. James Barnes… Bruce Banner. Thor Odinson. And… the Vision.”
“Nice try, buddy, but that’s all just common knowledge,” Tony snarks, but doesn’t feel at all as confident as he sounds.
“Wanda,” Steve mutters through the coms. “Can you get a read on this guy?”
“He’s blocking me off, Cap.”
Tony thinks. For a second. The wizard is looking right through him, eyes swirling a deep purple color. Tony's mind feels icy.
He has one of two options: wait for Wanda to break whatever spell this guy is using to block her off, or….
Tony charges the wizard. In hindsight, it’s a stupid decision. He almost makes it, but just in time the Wizard retreats lazily, a smirk curling onto his lips. Suddenly it feels like Tony’s soul is being ripped from his body. Like every atom is being crushed and stomped on, rung out like a wet rag. He thinks he hears Bucky shout, but before he can decipher who the yell came from, liquid fills his ears. He tries to suck in a breath, but instead of air, it’s water that seeps to his lungs.
Everything goes black.
Then he opens his eyes, and Yinsen is standing over him, looking worried. “Tony, you must’ve had a bad dream,” he murmurs, and pulls Tony to his feet. Tony lets out a hysterical laugh. Nausea creeps up on him, and he has to swallow bile rising in his throat. He struggles to speak. Words bubble at his lips, but he pushes them down with uncertainty.
Finally he whispers, “I’m not supposed to be here.” His head feels foggy. He wonders if this is the wizards doing, or if he’s simply died and gone to hell. “I think I’m dead.”
“Not quite,” Yinsen smiles at him, and reaches a hand to pat Tony’s chest. “Dead man walking.”
“You don’t understand,” Tony groans, and can feel a panic attack coming on.”This isn’t right. You’re not really Yinsen.”
“Oh, but I am.” Yinsen’s voice no longer holds any of its former warmth. It echoes through the cave, sinister and dark. “You should have known better than to mess with me, Tony Stark.”
The world goes dark again.
***
Bucky hovers by Tony's comatose body. He hasn't been able to leave his side since the incident, and neither has Steve.
Luckily, they have two skilled sorcerers who know what they're doing. Strange left some time ago, saying he'd be back once he had read up on some things. Wanda had been in and out a few times. She obviously isn't pleased, but Bucky doesn't think she's a threat or wishes Stark outright harm.
Steve squeezes his hand.
After a few more moments of silence, Bruce strolls in, looking a little green but mostly composed. "Mind if I have a second alone with Tony? I'm sorry, I know this must be hard for both of you."
"It's okay," Steve assures, and stands up immediately. Bucky follows his lead, and they leave Bruce to sit with Tony alone.
"We probably shouldn't sulk," Bucky points out. "I know that Natasha, Thor and Clint were thinking about going out for some sushi, why don't we go with them?"
Just then the sound of running footsteps echoes through the hall. A very disheveled and out of breath Pepper Potts sprints toward them, Rhodey following at a much slower pace behind her, due to his legs.
"Where is he?" Pepper demands, face flushed. Her eyes are wild. Rhodey looks calmer, but Bucky can catch a glimpse of panic in his face anyway.
"In that room," Steve points, "but Bruce is in there with him now. I'm sure he'll understand…"
Pepper nods, and heads toward the door. Rhodey gives them a tiny smile, before going after Pepper.
After some careful prodding, Steve agrees to get lunch with the others. They all sit down, looking solemn and shaken.
"I don't think we should let word of Tony get out," Clint speaks, frowning. "It's pretty closed off right now, and it looks like we're not going to be able to… fix him for some time. I think it's for the best if it stays out of the press for now."
But then Thor clears his throat, and says something that changes everything. "You are wrong, Clint. I think that my dear brother Loki can fix our Tony Stark."
***
Steve stares down at his hands. He's not sure how he feels. Bucky is sleeping in bed, but Steve can't, not with so many thoughts whirling through his head.
He feels...numb, maybe. A little scared.
"Do you think we can trust Loki?" He whispers to the air. He doesn't expect an answer, and is surprised when he receives one from a half-asleep Bucky.
"It might be our only option."
Steve turns and threads a hand through Bucky's hair, leaning down to pull him into a soft kiss. "I don't want it to be our only option. But Strange seems…"
"Stumped," Bucky finishes for him. "And we both know Tony isn't particularly fond of Wanda, just like she's not fond of him. Even if she could help, which I doubt she could."
Steve nods. Bucky does have a point. Pawning Wanda off on Tony might be the easiest solution, but he definitely wouldn't appreciate it. While the rest of the team had made their amends with Wanda, Tony had always remained wary, and Steve couldn't exactly blame him. Strange is by far the safest bet, but he seemed just as clueless as the rest of them.
"Have you talked to Wanda about it?" Bucky breaks the silence.
"She's not sure either. She told me she wants to help, but she doesn't think Tony would take it well."
Bucky sighs sadly. "I guess it's going to have to be Loki, Steve." He knows Bucky's right, but he hates to admit it.
"Then tomorrow we'll tell Thor," Steve announces.
"When we get Tony back…"
"I promise, Buck. No more fooling around. We'll make him see."
Bucky's lips curl into a pleased smile as he drifts back to sleep.
***
The next time Tony wakes up, he's young. Maybe six, or seven. Howard is glaring down at him, fists clenched but steady at his side.
"What have you done?" He grinds out. Tony takes a step back. He remembers this day. He's always remembered this day. He doesn't want to replay it.
Howard's hand strikes his cheek. He tenses, letting out a tiny groan of pain as their skin connects. It's over soon enough, his face red and sore. Howard leaves, drunk, and Tony sinks to the floor.
***
Tony's back in the caves. It's cold, he's shivering, and Yinsen is pressed up against him, offering warmth.
But Yinsen is cold.
Yinsen is dead.
***
Tony is gasping for breath in Siberia, Cap's shield resting tauntingly beside him.
No FRIDAY. No Steve. No Pepper. No Rhodey. Nobody.
Tears roll down his cheeks.
Steve chose Bucky.
Steve will always choose Bucky.
***
It's Thanos this time.
Destroying.
Everything.
He should have done more.
He tried.
He should have done more.
He tried to do more.
***
He's falling.
The hole is closing.
He's falling, and the pressure on his chest is suffocating.
The hole closes.
***
It's different this time.
He can tell immediately. Something is different.
He turns. His hands shake. He's so tired. His eyes flutter shut.
And then. "Tony."
The voice is soft. It's not cruel like the others. He wonders if it's another trick.
"Tony," it repeats. Suddenly, Loki appears in front of him. His eyes are calm, and gentle.
This is not a nightmare, Tony realizes hesitantly. It's too warm, and settling. "Are you the one who sent the sorcerer after us?"
"No," Loki mumbles, and steps forward. "I'm here to save you."
"I don't trust you."
"I know. But you must. You cannot remain in this state much longer."
Tony pauses. He knows Loki is right.
"Listen to me," Loki whispers. "You must kill yourself. However bizarre that might sound, it will get you out of here."
"I'll feel the pain." Tony swallows nervously. "I've been reliving everything. I've felt everything. Over and over."
"I know," Loki huffs. His voice is apologetic. "But you have to trust me. I must go now, Tony. The others are waiting for your return."
Loki fades away.
***
Tony takes the arc reactor out.
He feels everything.
***
He gasps to life, hands immediately shooting up to his chest. Alive. He's alive.
"Tony?" The voice is smooth. He recognizes it immediately, and lets out a small sob of relief. "Tony, oh my God. It worked."
Hands rest on his arms, sliding down to his hands. It's comforting, for a second, before Tony rips away, breathing raggedly.
"You're okay," Steve murmurs. "Tones, sweetie, you're okay."
Tony curls in on himself. Focuses on his breathing. Finally, when it's evened out, he looks up and meets Steve's expectant gaze.
"Hey," he finally manages. "How long's it been?"
"Two weeks." Steve reaches a hand out and lays it on Tony's cheek. "We missed you."
"Who?" Tony croaks.
"Everyone. Me and Bucky."
Tony cracks a tiny smile. "Missed you guys too." He leans into Steve's touch. Wishes for more. Wishes for Bucky.
"Bucky went to grab some coffee. He's on his way back." It's as if he read Tony's mind, and the thought makes him dizzy.
Tony's not sure how long they sit together, but eventually Bucky bursts in. "Tony," he grits out, and rushes to him, pulling him into a hug.
Tony melts into it. He can't help the tears that slip out, but if Steve or Bucky notice they don't say anything.
He feels safe.
Finally.
***
He doesn't expect it to happen so soon. It's not like the thought hasn't crossed his mind a few times, but…
It's Bucky who acts first. It's a warm night. A little windy, but the air is dry.
Bucky slides up behind him, and wraps his arms around Tony's waist. Tony tenses at first, before relaxing into the hug.
Lips graze his neck. Tony shudders, and twists to face Bucky. His eyes are twinkling and wet, and Tony wants to beg Bucky not to cry.
But then Bucky presses his lips to Tony's, and it's not worth his effort anymore.
***
Steve's next, because Tony would never dream of making the first move. He did that once, and ended up abandoned in the snowy wastelands of Russia.
Steve's a lot more tactful than Bucky. As if he plans the whole day out. He leaves fleeting touches and lingering looks, but it's not until late that night that Steve grabs each of Tony's hands in his own.
He holds them there for a moment, and stares into Tony's eyes.
"I'm sorry for everything, Tony. For Siberia. For the Accords."
He leans forward and pulls Tony into a tender kiss.
"I want to make it up to you."
***
Tony has to climb over a super soldier to get out of bed, but once he's out of bed, he's relieved. He needs to shower. Badly.
He smells of sweat and sex, and it is not appetizing.
Before he makes his way to the bathroom, though, he admires the sight of two sleeping beauties curled up in his covers.
This is good, he thinks, and slides into the shower.
"Time?" He asks FRIDAY.
"5:36 AM, Boss," she answers, and suddenly 5:36 doesn't feel so awful anymore.