Scrambling for the phone he breathed out another sigh, throat stuffed with sobs threatening to let loose across the empty floor that was his penthouse. It was almost terrifying, how silent everything was, and as his feet pounded against the floor in panic he let himself fall heavily onto the kitchen stool. He was barely able to catch himself on the countertop and after three rings he heard the voice he so desperately itched for.
“Hey, Darling. Miss me yet?”
Unable to get any words past his lips he felt his face melt, tears dripping down the sides of his face with absolute defeat and sorrow painted across his thoughts.
“Steve?”
Sucking in a gasp he heard the man shift on the other line, a door shutting in the background as the voice came back.
“Hey, sweetheart, can you talk to me? Is everything alright?”
“Tony-” The word was forced out from between his lips, a breath releasing into the air with instant regret. He tended to get quiet during panic attacks, words limited as he curled into himself and tried to hide from the world.
“What happened? Are you at home?”
He nodded, hearing Jarvis mumble in the back knowing he had an eye on the soldier himself.
“Did you have a flashback? Was it the television?”
Shaking his head he slipped from the chair, falling under the slab of bar space and curling behind the seat. His hands trembled harshly and before he could drop the phone he heard the speakers burst to life around him.
“Steve, I need you to talk to me, alright? Can you tell me what happened?”
A sob fell from his lips at the sound, head shaking more gradually as he dropped the phone between his legs. His fingers attached themselves in his hair and the blond strands tugged from his scalp without anything there to calm it.
“Okay, sweetheart, I'm going to come home. J, how long..”
The voice faded away, drawing a harsh tug in his grip with attempts to keep him grounded.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, the mission can be covered without me. Do you want anyone else?”
The man’s face flooded through his mind, flashes of his nightmare shoving him into more silence before he could decide to speak.
“Okay, i’m coming now. Steve, I need you to say something. Let me know you’re okay.”
“I want you to come home.”
“I am, sweetheart,” the voice was so soft, gentle and kind in every way as he continued to try and soothe him through the speakers. “I am coming right now. I need you to focus on what happened and tell me, can you do that?”
With a nudge of his head he agreed, sucking in a deep breath before scrunching his eyes tighter together.
“Nightmare.”
“You had a nightmare?”
Nod.
“Okay, alright, do you wanna tell me what happened in your dream?”
Refusal.
“Okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Do you want to get the bed ready for when I get home? Get me some sweats and a cup of water?”
“No.”
“That's fine. Where are you, Steve?”
A hand hit his head, drawing a stroke of pain across as it repeated the motion.
“Hey, calm down, sweetie. Don’t do that, do like I showed you.”
With a lot of hesitance he lowered his hands under his thighs, struggling to keep them there as he bit on another cry threatening to fall out.
“Come home.”
“I am, I'm on my way now.”
“They’re all dead.”
“Steve, you need to get your head out of there. That's not a good place, focus on me-”
“They’re all gone and i’m all alone-”
“Hey, you’re not alone. You have me, you will always have me, and Barnes. Sam is your best friend, right?”
Letting his eyes slide open he ignored the blurred vision ahead, the humming of the AC soothing enough as he jerked his head in agreeance.
“And Nat, Clint, and Thor. I don’t think they plan on leaving you any time soon. You may just be stuck with them, babe.”
The genius kept talking, babbled nonsense evening out the corners of the room as he fell heavily into the wall behind him. Exhaustion flooded through him and without anything holding him in place the trembling was painfully excessive.
“You are doing so well, Sweetheart, I am so proud of you.”
His hands itched with destruction, wanting to throw itself into the wall despite the lack of energy to do so.
Amidst the past few days of his forced leave of absence he has had some conversation with his husband, walking through the steps of soothing him in his distress. Tony had asked him what helped most, how to keep him from making the anxiety grow, and luckily Steve gave him the frame for a larger picture. It was enough for them to test during his first instance away from the team, during his second day of being at home. When he began getting physical toward himself the older man had talked smoothly, calm tones guiding him to keep his hands restrained and focus on his breaths. It had helped a lot more than expected and by the next one things had gone admittedly well.
Unfortunately, as things may work, there are periods where they are hopeless and two and a half weeks in he was really struggling. Without the familiar voice in person his arms were spasming below his hold he had on them, breaths growing heavier as the speakers grew a little louder.
“Steve, you have to keep your hands back where they were-”
Interrupting the voice he felt the impact of another blow, trying to rid himself of the sobs finding their way back into his head. His cheeks were warm under the pressure and after a cry burst from his lips he flinched wildly at the sound of soft music running through the halls.
Recognizing the tune he cut his next slog, flashes of the feeling of Tony against him the night of their wedding. He remembered the weight of the head against his chest, arms running up and down his back as friends and family gathered around their elated stances. The idea that he did not have to be the strong one for once, letting himself take a turn leaning against his best friend as they danced in the presence of the sun going down. The orange and pink sky turned them into silhouettes as glasses clinked together and the words of the song drifted through his mind.
Tony sang along behind him, grounding him as he sank into himself and hid away from everything else. His wrists curled tightly against his chest and as small as he could be, he let himself fall apart. It was as if everything came crashing into him at once and as much as he missed envisioning everything of his past life, he just really missed Tony. There was nothing in this world that would keep him from feeling the emotions that he does, the way he longs for the man every second of every day.
It was actually the doing of said man that got him off the field, storming in the directors office and demanding enough time off to drag him across the country to the best he could find. Session after time hoarding session he spoke as much as he could, leaning into the warmth in his side as they tried to figure out what was going on. He had felt these feelings long before the serum, but since waking up they had grown harder to control and he was having such a hard time adjusting. Even now, three years later, the simplest of tasks take his focus and shred it up into pieces, dowsing him in flames of terror and no medication was helping. The serum was picking at his remains and sealing his fate despite the thread of hope trying its best to stitch him together.
The best that could be done was taking him off the field and his husband had threatened every living person until the leave was written up and he was taken home to New York. Sam met with them periodically, Buck more so as he raced back and forth between missions and society. Tony was constantly working with Bruce on anything that would conquer his metabolism and all these days in are leading to no success.
Well, any permanent success, because as he continued to stretch against the seams, the voice of the hero he loved wrapped around him and held him together piece by shattered piece. He was wrapped up tight and smothered in ribbons and that was okay, for a moment he felt soft heat prodding at him until he gave in to it. It was so soothing and before it could melt away arms were caving in around him.
The suit peeled away and he was tugged carefully into a chest, smothered in sweat stained clothes as another set of hands tugged his own behind his back. It was not comfortable, he wanted to tug free to gain back an ounce of freedom, but the scent that overwhelmed him kept him at ease.
“Hey, Darling, I got you. Everythings alright, you’re okay.”
Choking on a breath he breathed in the familiar form, breaths deep as he fell limp and ignored the tugging of his arms trailing behind. He knew he should be careful, Tony wasn’t able to hold his weight, but his mind was a ball of twine and twisted him in every direction. And the man in question didn’t seem to mind anything as he held him tighter against him.
“How about we get you in a bath, wash some of this sweat off you.”
His body was like lead, he didn’t want to move nor to be moved and he voiced his protests in a whine.
“I know, but you told me it would help and that's what I'm here for, sweetheart. I’m going to help you get back to me.”
“No.”
The arms behind him released their grip, rising under his arms until they pulled him back and away from his spouse. He very clearly denied it, fingers twitching, but Tony quickly pulled himself up and within a few blinks he was held tightly as the man began undressing him in what now he realized to be their bathroom.
“Shh, you’re okay. Barnes, can you..”
The forearms pressing into his stomach lessened their hold, lowering just enough to raise his shirt as the sound of water snapped him back into reality.
“..J, go ahead and cut the stream, I think that's enough. You got him? I’ll be right back…”
Voices faded in and out before he was dropped into a puddle of heat, sweat immediately dripping down the sides of his face to blend with his tears. He could taste the salt on his lips and his breath was shaky at best before all the fingers disappeared.
With nothing to hold on to he fell into the splashes and let the waves take over him as a presence returned directly to his side. He was dragged into the familiar chest and before he could squeal his surprise a kiss was dropped against his forehead.
“You still with me, love?”
The hand stroking his back was full of suds, he could smell the body wash the moment the lid clicked apart.
“You look exhausted, Sweetheart.”
“Tired.”
“I know, it’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”
“Didn’t want you to go.”
“I know, and I should not of left you. I’m sorry.”
His hair grew heavy, dripping down his neck and rising a shiver up his spine.
“I’m trying to be quick, here- shift this way, darling.”
Angled around he sighed and felt the nails scrubbing against his scalp. The warmth was so reeling, void of any cold and keeping the nightmares at bay rather than flashing against his thoughts.
“Are you a bit more focused? You here?”
“Tony.”
“Yeah, it’s me. You got yourself good, going to have a nice welt for a bit.”
Fingers slid against his temple, pulling a soft sting against his skin as he shifted against a lap.
Time seemed to flash, the soapy water dripping down his body as the hands continued cleansing it. Soft words bled into the air and despite the moments he was too out of it to understand, the tones were enough to keep him still. Hiding himself within the other kept him together just long enough to hear the door open as more footsteps appeared.
“Alright, up we go. Sorry Barnes, you gotta see all of America tonight.”
The chuckle was so gentle from both sides.
“Not the first, probably not the last. At least you had the sense to keep something on-”
“Oh shut it. Next time I'm taking everything off, its my tower.”
His skin shivered under the strokes of the towel and the will to stay awake was quickly leaking away. A part of him was needing to do it himself, he didn’t need someone treating him like a child, but by the time he gained the courage he was dressed and sprawled across the sheets.
“Hey, what's wrong?”
The hand in his hair was soft, directing his gaze as a metal grip tugged a comforter snuggly against his form.
“Too hot.”
“It’s not too hot, baby. You’re shivering.”
Shaking his head he denied it, reaching out and coiling his body against the raging temperatures.
“Punk, stay still.”
“No.”
Lips attempted to calm him, pressing against his temple and soothing the soft swelling of skin that was still trying to heal. Wincing to himself he found to be pushed backward, lying on his back and staring dreadfully up at the ceiling.
“You’re fine, you’re safe at home and everything is fine.”
Numb fingers hooked themselves to his blankets, strength at zero and the more he pushed away a new set pushed it in the opposite direction. He felt the material scuff against his neck and the cornered feeling was anything but welcome.
“Do you want some water?”
Shaking his head he rolled over, throat rumbling in displeasure as he was pushed back and a body sat against his side. The build of an assassin sitting against his hip was too familiar and he felt pressure behind his eyes as his lips pulled into a frown.
“Stevie, you have to calm down. Don’t get yourself worked up again, just take a breath and relax. We will take care of you for now, just- shh. Just breathe, doll.”
The robotic voice above dared to seem concerned, spitting out numbers and functions as another body curled around him and tugged his face into a shoulder. Without hesitation he held tight, arms wrapping around the stomach and breathing in the aura that was Tony.
“You’re safe here, focus on me.”
“Hot.”
“Without the blanket you’ll be cold and that’s something you told me not to do. Do you remember that? When we talked?”
A metal hand rested against his sternum, holding the thick blanket in place and using his other to wipe the water dripping lonely down his neck.
“Tony,” his tone was choked up, swelling all the way down to his stomach as they did flips around his insides. A part of him knew what they were doing was right, but he also needed to smother himself away until there was nothing but him and the quiet.
“I know,” the sigh was full of empathy, a knowing sound that promised they would get out of this.
He doesn’t know how long they laid there, but he does know that by the time he came back down to earth he was curled into a familiar chest. Inhaling the world around him he opened his eyes to the darkers ones ahead, the tired ones staring right back down his way. There were no words needed and by the time he took a breath to speak the older man beat him to it.
“How do you feel, Darling?”
The hand gliding through his hair was gentle, soothing an honest answer despite all of his reasons to lie.
“Overwhelmed.”
“How can I help?”
“You already do. So much, Tony.”
The emotions must of been still running, his eyes growing thicker at the idea of his husband being by his side.
“You’re alright, baby,” the chuckle wasn’t one of judgement, just admiration as he ran a finger down the side of his face.
“I’m just having a hard time. I never meant to drag you home-”
“Okay, first, you didn’t drag me anywhere. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get out of these missions for a while. I don’t have to do anything or be anywhere I don't want to. And Sweetheart, there is nothing I want more than to be around you like this.”
“I really don’t want to go back to Mathews.”
“Things like this happen, trust me. There is no one against you or thinking any less of you, but that was a big one, Steve. I think we just need to stop by and see if there is anything to help you a bit more.”
“It doesn’t happen a lot.”
“I know.”
“Not as much as it used to.”
The eyes across from him were warm, promising and loving as they spun around him over and over again.
“And that's good. So good. But, she said on this medication you shouldn’t be dissociating or hurting yourself. I really do not like you hitting yourself like that-”
“You were able to stop me-”
“I shouldn’t have to. Stop and focus, what if I was self-harming-”
“I’m not taking a blade-”
“That's not what it revolves around in order to be considered. We have talked about this and you know exactly what I am trying to get at here.”
A sigh of reluctance and then acceptance came and went, Tony pulling his phone out of nowhere before it tapped back down on the counter.
“We are going to go see her on Tuesday.”
A curl of ice cold shame shot through him, straight to his stomach as he forced a few words between his lips.
“What day is today?”
“What?”
The man looked surprised at the words, eyes painting themselves in concern.
“I just lost track- it’s not like I have a calendar-”
“What day do you think it is, Steven?”
With a soft wince he muttered, ignoring how tense his spouse had become.
“Today is Saturday. There should- how bad have you been zoning out since I left?”
The silence was more than an answer, Tony sitting up and shaking his head before throwing it in his hand.
“How many days was I gone?”
“Tony..”
“How many?”
“It’s been like two days, I know it hasn’t been weeks.”
“Steven Stark I have been gone for almost a week!”
His gut curled, not only at the new information but by the fact of being scolded like a child. Full names were never a good sign and he could see the anger underlying the man’s expression.
“Sorry- I’m not upset with you, I know you can’t control it. I just wish the signs were a bit more clearer, that's all. Maybe we should see her today-”
“It’s already late, Tony..”
His words drifted off, frown tightening across his face at the trembling around him. The sound of a sniffle had his eyes drooping low as he looked at the face still hidden in a hand.
“Tony..”
The sound of a cut sob had his arms pulling away just enough to wrap around the genius, pulling him close against his chest.
“I love you, I just wish I could have all of you.”
“You do have all of me.”
The man shook his head, leaving his hiding space to drop a kiss across the soldiers cheek.
“Until we get you better I will never have all of you, Darling. Seeing you in pain shatters me.”