Insomnia

Natasha has got everyone figured out.

Clint was easy, after all, once he trusts someone, he’s an open book. But the problem was that it took years to build up trust. Thankfully Nat had known Clint for a while now, and knows what irks him, what sets him off, and what turns him into either a plain mess or a total rage monster that could rival the Hulk himself. Nat knew when to steer the conversation another way whenever Clint got the strange look in his eyes, or to steer him out of the room altogether. It only took two breakdowns for Natasha to connect the distant expression and tears together, and after that, it was easy to pick up on the cues that he left whenever he was feeling close to the edge.

Thor, well, Thor wasn’t human, but he still showed emotion. He was mostly scared because he didn’t know how to work with the others (he was, after all, not from this planet), and showed it by being overly compassionate and curious. While usually everybody else only tolerated Stark’s rants about his work for five minutes a day, Thor could listen forever; he never seemed to get bored of learning how everything worked. When Stark invented something that would give everybody everywhere access to clean water, Thor was at first confused as to why they all needed to drink water so often, which lead into a giant discussion about basic human needs. He was good for the team and kept them all in check, and the drive behind it was that he felt like he needed to understand.

Steve Rogers was a man out of time. And that also scared him, but unlike Thor, who took the time to understand and ask questions, he was too proud and wanted to figure things out on his own. It led to frequent disagreements between Stark and him, as Stark was more than willing to help but Steve always complained that he was just bragging and making him feel bad. And sometimes that was the case, but it helped neither of them. He also directed the scared energy into doing things that he does understand, that he can control, such as leading the group. Which is why he was such a strict leader and did everything for the team, because that was what he understood.

Bruce wasn’t difficult at all to figure out. On the first day of them meeting, he had already admitted to trying to kill himself. He was very open, very verbal, and liked to talk about pretty much anything. He was scared of the monster inside of him, he was scared of them being scared of the monster inside of him, and therefore couldn’t afford to be pent up. It helped in a way, because it was very clear what he needed. If he was tired, he would say so. If he was sad, it would be written all over his face. Nat was happy for that because it made her job easier, and it everyone was always happy to help.

Now to Stark. Tony Stark was the opposite of open, and he had several clever masks to put up depending on the person. With someone else, he could be sweet and charming, but with another person, he could be a cocky asshole. With the team, he was a charming, cocky asshole. So it was fairly difficult to get a read on him. Not only that, but on the few times where Stark had been under the effect of strong painkillers or heavily intoxicated, every single one of the masks would fall down and they’d be left with a completely different person who wasn’t charming, nor sweet, nor cocky, nor an asshole. It was just Tony.

So Nat concluded that Tony Stark felt like he had to change for other people, and that was the most she’d gotten.

Nat had been fumbling around the tower, looking to strike Tony when he was the weakest. A little birdie (literally everybody on the team) had told her that Tony wasn’t doing too hot lately, which meant that he would have less energy to put the masks up, and then she would get a clear glimpse of the man that he really is. It was her own curiosity fueling her desire to learn about the real Tony Stark, as well as her need to write an actual report on him when he wasn’t dying. That had been a mistake and made everyone hold a grudge against Tony for the first few days. Steve still held a grudge.

She finally spotted him, sitting on a couch in the communal room, staring at the blank TV. Perfect. He looked tired, it was five AM, and by the look on his face, Nat knew that he’d been up for a while already. Sleep deprived, weak Tony Stark wouldn’t even think to hold up the masks.

She sat beside him and he started a bit, not realizing that she was here until she sat down. He rubbed his hands on his face to wake himself up.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Nat asked, poking his shoulder, and he winced as if it hurt.

“Why aren’t you?” he retorted, but there wasn’t much rudeness behind it. It just sounded empty.

Natasha decided to ignore the question because Tony probably wouldn’t like ‘I’m trying to write a report on you again because the last one failed’ as an answer. She just continued to gather as much information as she could just by looking at his pose, his expression. He was dead-tired.

Tony dropped his hands into his lap. They were trembling.

“You okay?”

“Always,” Tony said, not even hesitating.

Nat sighed. He’s gonna make this as difficult as possible, denying and pretending. She debated playing along to see what she gets out of it or going for a harsher approach, then decided on the latter.

“Bullshit.”

Tony sighed, making a noise that sounded like a groan and a whimper. He scrunched his eyes closed for a second, supporting his head with his hand. “I’m just so tired.”

“Why aren’t you asleep, then?”

“I can’t sleep. It just won’t come,” he huffed out, frustrated. “Mr Sandman hates me.”

“Have you tried-”

“I’ve tried everything!” he said, interrupting her before she even started, his voice raised. “I’ve asked Bruce. And the Internet. And JARVIS. I just can’t sleep,” he trailed off quietly.

Natasha didn’t say anything, even though in her mind she was going to make a quip about the Internet and JARVIS being one and the same, but she knew better than that. He’d smile, nod, take that as permission to put back on the joking and happy and asshole mask that he usually wore around her, and then all would be lost, he’d be tired and she’d be without the information needed.

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head, slapping his face gently to wake himself up again. “I’m just- God, I’m just so tired.”

“It’s alright,” she nodded, rubbing his shoulder.

“Ever since Pep went away, it’s just been hell on Earth,” he sighed. “I can’t sleep. Nightmares when I do. I’m done.”

She shut up and let him do the talking. They were getting somewhere.

“I just,” he paused, as if questioning his ways, questioning whether he should tell her anything. “Never mind.”

“You can trust me, it’s alright,” Nat said, leaning forward, intrigued. “Just tell me what’s been up.”

“I just sometimes want to leave,” he shrugged, smiling at her even though his eyes told a different story.

“Leave what?” she asked, even though she knew the answer. And she was horrified.

“I don’t know. Life?” he closed his eyes. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I should go.”

“No, stay,” Nat quickly latched onto his arm to keep him from going anywhere.

This was not what she expected. She thought that maybe she would catch wind of him being a wholesome person on the inside, secretly caring for everyone and feeling guilt about destroying things in the battles, but this was the wrong track. This was wrong, and this was messed up, and she would never forgive herself for manipulating him into giving her this information, but she would never forget it either. She said that he could trust her. What was implied was that she cared.

This will not go on the report.

Tony let himself go limp in her grip, and she let go. He looked away from her, keeping his eyes glued to the inanimate TV, and she saw the beginning of tears. She grabbed his hand and made circles on the back, cursing herself for being a terrible person. Her friend needed help, and she just wanted the information.

“You know, it’s not my job to make sure you don’t kill yourself,” Natasha said, and he turned his head. She found an indecipherable emotion beneath the usual brown of his eyes.

Tony nodded slowly. “I know.”

“But I’m going to do it anyway,” she finished, squeezing his hand.

He smiled sadly at her, and she didn’t like the look in his eyes. He was lost, without purpose. Lonely.

Tony squeezed her hand back and let go, his attention returning to the blank screen in front of them.

Natasha gave him one last look before retreating to her room, wondering how in the world she expected something less unsettling. He used masks to cover up what he was feeling. He was sleep deprived. He was lonely. It was written all in his eyes, just she hadn’t been bothered to look so far until it was needed for her job.

She cursed herself for being so blind.