“Sorry, the beds might be a little too small for you, Cap,” said Clint, breezing in with his arms full of pillows and sheets. “The kids are sleeping in the attic and Laura and I are on the couch, but Nat called dibs on our bedroom, so you and Tony get this one.”
“That’s fine. Thanks Clint,” said Steve sincerely. “You know Tony and I can sleep on the couch, right? I’ll even take the floor if you want. Laura can have the bed.” Clint waved his concerns away dismissively.
“She says she sleeps down there all the time anyway. Better for her back or something.” He looked disgusted. “After all the energy I put into dragging that mattress home from the dumpster, too.”
Steve caught Tony’s eye, and both men had to stifle their giggles.
“That should be it,” said Clint, spreading a blanket on Tony’s bed haphazardly. “Yell if you need anything, but I’m probably not gonna hear you.” He turned to leave, then turned back for a quick second, “Oh, and Lila says if you take a shower, please don’t use her My Little Pony shampoo.”
Clint popped out, shutting the door behind him, leaving Steve and Tony alone together for the first time all day. The smile had vanished off of Tony’s face and he was back to glaring at Steve, almost challenging him. Still, after the day they’d had, Steve didn’t feel like fighting anymore.
“I’m not gonna yell at you,” he mumbled, staring determinedly at the floor. “I don’t agree with what you did, Tony, but I guess I can understand.”
Tony, who just moments ago seemed ready to fight, now slumped against his bed. “I did what I thought was right.”
Steve didn’t have any answer to that, and the silence built up between them, tense and awkward. Vaguely, Steve realized this was the first time he and Tony had ever truly been alone together. What did you say in a situation like this?
Tony cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m… gonna go take a shower,” he said, pointing vaguely in the direction of Clint’s kids’ bathroom. “Clint gave me clothes.”
“Nothing of his would fit me,” said Steve, smiling slightly. “I guess I’ll skip the shower.”
Steve watched Tony grab a bag and walk into the bathroom. The thud of the door shutting seemed oddly final.
Steve lay down, intending to wait until Tony came back out, but he fell asleep quickly, soothed by his exhaustion and the rhythmic sound of water hitting the tiles.
Tony spent a good forty-five minutes in the shower, rubbing every single bit of dirt and grime he could feel off his skin. In a way it was like compensating for the whirling of his brain – if he couldn’t wipe the memories out of his head, he could at least pretend.
When there was no part of his body he could conceivably clean anymore, he wrapped a towel around himself and walked out of the bathroom. The Avengers had changed in and out of their suits in front of each other so many times that he was no longer embarrassed.
He was still less embarrassed when the light from the open bathroom door fell on Steve’s figure, clearly asleep. Tony dropped his towel and pulled on Clint’s sweatpants, staring at Steve all the while. The Captain looked… different, in a way, when he was asleep. Younger, less guarded. His face didn’t have that firm set to it anymore, and his normally stoic expression was replaced with one of sleepy exhaustion.
Tony always forgot how young Steve really was.
He climbed into his own bed and pulled the blankets up around him, exhaustion taking over every bone in his body. He shut his eyes, ready to fall asleep.
Except he couldn’t fall asleep at all. His mind kept replaying the vision the Maximoff girl had put in his head; the vision of his team, dead and splayed-out over a pile of bodies, of Steve’s haunting You could have saved us, Tony, the moans and whimpers of the injured around him –
– wait
There’d been no whimpering in Maximoff’s vision.
In fact, it seemed to be coming from… from behind him.
Tony turned around quickly, ready to fend off the intruder, but it was just Steve.
Tony frowned, confused. Why was their brave, stoic captain whimpering in his sleep? It wasn’t even the good kind of whimpering, which left you with a wonderful case of morning wood. No, Steve actually looked… terrified.
“Steve?” whispered Tony cautiously, climbing out of his bed. As he got closer, Steve’s whispered mumbles got a lot clearer.
“No, Peggy, I died,” said Steve quietly, his face pained. “Lost B’cky too. Come back, please.” It took a couple of seconds, but Tony finally understood what he meant.
This must have been what Maximoff showed him.
“Miss you,” mumbled Steve again, and even in his sleep, he seemed dangerously close to crying. “Don’t fall, please. ‘M here.”
“Steve?” tried Tony again.
“Please, Tony,” whimpered Steve, his entire body trembling, “Tony, please, please...”
Tony could never tell what possessed him to do it but he climbed into the tiny bed beside Steve, immediately pulling Steve into a hug. Steve’s body stopped shaking as soon as it made contact with Tony’s but he kept moaning still, clearly deep in some nightmare inspired by the Maximoff girl.
A nightmare that, apparently, involved Tony.
His suspicion was confirmed less than a second later when Steve curled further into him, now sobbing harder than ever. “Please don’t fall, Tony, please.”
Ah. The same nightmare that had plagued Tony’s mind for a year after the Battle, then.
“I’m not falling, Steve,” he whispered, holding his Captain, this young man who’d been through more than most people would in ten lifetimes, tight to his chest. “I’m not falling. I’m here, I’m here with you, okay?”
Steve couldn’t hear him of course, but something in Tony’s voice must have soothed him. He relaxed in Tony’s hold, his cries slowly turning into quiet moans and whimpers.
“Yeah, that’s it, Steve. You’re safe, okay? You’re with me, and we’re at Clint’s farm that we didn’t know existed until today, and we’re being watched by a million little pink ponies. Clint must get paid good money at SHIELD to afford all these toys.”
Steve sniffled, his brows knitted tightly together, but he relaxed further into Tony. Tony pulled Steve’s head down to rest in the crook of his shoulder, and even as he felt the wet tears run down his neck, he knew Steve was feeling better.
“You’re okay, Steve. You’re okay.”