Insomnia

Steve didn’t need to sleep as often as the others.

Which was fine, really. Night time was calm. He had a favourite window that he would look out of, and he could see the entire city, and even farther, from that position. He could see the city lights, then to the point where the lights got scarcer and scarcer, until they finally reached trees and nothingness. Darkness.

The window was in the common room, where the team would frequently gather to play video games or have a quick bite together, but the day was noisy. He couldn’t stare out of the window during the day, because there were distractions and all in all, the view wasn’t all that great during the day. There was just smog and cars and the dull grey of the city. At least during the night you can’t see the smog, and the cars are just lights. At night, the city comes alive.

But Steve always finds himself looking at the line of trees, beyond the urban sprawl. He missed being able to see the stars at night. If he thought that the city lights were calming, he couldn’t wait until he could actually see the stars. He used to always sit on his porch, wrapped in blankets to avoid catching a cold, and watch the sky.

And then he woke up several decades later and the stars were replaced with light pollution.

“What’cha doin’ Cap?” a voice said from behind him, startling him.

“Stark,” Steve answered, turning around.

“Hey,” Tony smiled, and Steve realized that he was drunk, and was reeking of alcohol. “What’re ya lookin’ at?”

“The lights,” he said. “It’s busy out here.”

“City ne’er sleeps,” Tony nodded, slurring. “S’a mess.”

Steve turned his attention back to the window. “I like the stars better.”

“Me too,” Tony agreed.

They were silent for a bit.

“Y’know, I hate this,” Tony interrupted the heavy silence. “All this.”

“Hate what?”

“The, the buildings. The destroying everything,” he elaborated, making grand hand gestures. “Everything’s grey. Nothing’s, nothing’s clear.”

“You mean destroying the Earth and all that?” Steve asked, turning to face Tony. Out of all of the people that Steve Rogers though would say that, Tony was the least expected. He was the man of the future, always building, making things for his work. Economy over Ecology.

“Yeah n' no,” Tony said, furrowing his brow to think. “S’better. With, with the outside, the nature. s’like, clear. But with here, in the city, there’s, there’s grey. N' grey’s heavy, s’not like black, or blue. S’empty.”

“I’m not following you.”

“S’okay,” Tony laughed, rubbing his face. “God- I’m so drunk.”

“Why are you drinking?” Steve asked, looking at the time on the microwave. Two in the morning.

“Makes it less grey.”

Steve didn’t say anything. He had never seen Tony like this, intoxicated to the point where he’s tripping over his own speech. He’d always been a curt man. Straight to the point, maybe a few jokes to either annoy people or play them up. But Tony was elaborating, using metaphors, trying to explain. He was just too drunk to get his point across.

And this was weird. Tony usually refused to be in the same room as Steve, as they didn’t get along all that well. Heck, they were polar opposites. Tony was from the future, and Steve was stuck in the past. Tony was sour and didn’t work well with the others, preferring to shut himself up and work, and Steve was social, who put his friends before his job as an Avenger. Their priorities, their end goals, they were different, which meant that they both say the world differently. So the fact that Tony was here willingly, and that they both weren’t trying to bite each other’s heads off, it was strange.

“We should build a planetarium. You’d be able to see the stars,” Tony grinned, pressing his forehead against the window.

“What’s a planetarium?” Steve asked.

“Oh, you’ll love it. S’like, a projector thing, that projects stars, n' s’really great. We could get some bean bag chairs in there, popcorn machine, a mini-fridge, n'- ooh, we could even be able to turn it into an Imax theatre when we want to watch those cool, all around movies,” Tony ranted. “You’ll love it. In fact, I’ll go design the room right now.”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Who needs sleep? Not me, that’s who. Besides, I’m drinking,” Tony pulled his forehead from the window, leaving a greasy mark on the glass. “S’like sleeping. But you’re awake.”

“Stark, I think you should get to bed.”

“S’no use. I can’t sleep,” Tony shrugged. “I’ve been trying. But I can’t. But don’t worry, because I’m drinking,” he waved his hand. “It helps, y’know. Bruce told me that s’bad, that it interrupts sleep, but I can fall asleep much faster with alcohol.”

“Bruce is usually right.”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “Do you think I’m an alcoholic?”

Steve thought for a second, before realizing that Tony probably wouldn’t even remember this conversation, and therefore wouldn’t be offended. “Sometimes.”

“Because I’m not hooked on alcohol because I like being drunk,” he said defensively. “S’been three days since I’ve started using it to sleep. I use it to sleep. Not for, for the head-fogginess.”

“Then why aren’t you asleep?”

“Because it doesn’t work anymore,” Tony said, and he sounded exhausted.

Steve didn’t answer, not exactly knowing how. This Tony was different. This Tony was tired, exhausted even, maybe even borderline depressed if he didn’t know better. And he found himself not liking this side of Tony anymore than he did the other narcissistic and egoistic side. He was used to the snark, and without the snark, and the wit, and the quick remark, Tony Stark just wasn’t Tony Stark anymore. He was unrecognizable.

“I’m gonna go draw up the plans,” Tony muttered, swaying.

“I think you should head to bed instead,” Steve answered, eyeing the way he shifted from side to side, and how pale he was.

“Okay,” Tony said plainly, taking a few steps over to the sink, vomiting, then leaving the room.

He knew that Tony wasn’t doing all that great. He knew that he frequently would come up here, always shuffling along silently, brewing coffee, never starting conversation before he left. But those days he was sober. This was the first time he was drunk around him, the first time he had a conversation with him like this.

Steve Rogers discovered that there’s much more to Tony Stark than he thought, and he wasn’t too keen on unwrapping the layers.