I have never known peace, like the damp grass that yields to me
London, Christmas Eve, 1943
“Merry Christmas, Natasha,” Steve murmured softly. It had been a great day with he and the rest of the Commandos miraculously getting a 24-hour leave just in time for Christmas. And who better to celebrate this one day of freedom with than with his love?
They were ensconced in Natasha’s (their’s, to be precise) room in the barracks, drinking flat champagne and eating canned sardines Steve pilfered from the mess hall. It wasn’t the Christmas Eve celebration Steve envisioned or even wanted for Natasha, but they were in a war and beggars couldn’t be choosers. The fact that they were able to be together on this day was a miracle in and of itself. Steve would take what he could get. War has taught him the fragility of a moment and how easy it was for everything to fall apart.
“Fröhliche Weihnachten, Steve,” Natasha clinked their glasses together, it always pleased Steve whenever she spoke German, a sign that she was comfortable enough to share a remnant of her past with him, “Here’s to many more Christmases to celebrate with you.” Natasha looked beautiful tonight, her amber eyes warm with contentment. Brown hair tied back in a loose braid that she swept over to her left shoulder, wearing one of Steve’s Army issue shirts and lounge pants. She had been overworking herself, as usual, Steve thought ruefully, the bags under her eyes a testament to the fact. Steve had to carry her out of her lab, not that she minded, and promised her increasingly tawdry sexual favors to get her to take a break at least for the night.
“I’m sorry that this is all I could do for you. You deserve a better Christmas celebration. Better than flat champagne and some smoked fish from the SSR mess hall.” Steve muttered despondently. He felt Natasha touched her hand, taking the champagne glass out of his hand and placing it on the table next to him.
“Steve, we could be celebrating Christmas at a foxhole in the Eastern front right now and I would be happy with it. As long as I’m celebrating it with you, I don’t care about anything else.” Natasha said, then seeming to rethink her words she added, “well actually, spending Christmas Eve at a foxhole would be awful. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”
Steve laughed at that and brought her hand, the one in his hold up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles reverently, “Think we’ll ever get to celebrate Christmas like a civilian? A huge Christmas tree in the corner with presents underneath, lazing about at home with the fireplace roaring in the background, some slow music playing on the record. We could finally have our first dance.”
Natasha opened her mouth to answer him but something stopped her. The happiness in her eyes dimmed slightly before she gave Steve a tremulous smile, “Yeah, darling. We will someday. I’ll play something slow so you won’t step on my feet.” She seemed far away, as if reassuring herself of the truthfulness of her words.
“Come on, Tasha. I’m not that bad,” Steve joked, “the serum would help me learn the steps.”
“I’m not taking any chances, have you seen how big your feet are? One giant stomp from and I might not walk again for the rest of my life.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Steve rolled his eyes fondly. The light in her eyes was back which Steve was grateful for. Lately he’d been noticing how easily her moods shifted, one second happy then the next some words or some gesture would take away from her playful countenance. He tried to talk to her about it, but Natasha just shook her head and kissed him softly, whispering softly that everything was fine, yes everything was fine. It pained Steve to see her so troubled, even more so when it was trouble he couldn’t punch in its face or knock down with his shield.
His missions were nearing its end. He and the Howling Commandos have successfully dismantled HYDRA strongholds and disrupted their weapon supply lines, decimating them to utter destruction with no hope of rebuilding. They were so close to the finish line. The rest of their lives together could finally begin, something Steve coveted from the moment they met. He wanted it all. The quiet, peaceful celebrations. Building a family and growing old together. He thought of his mother’s wedding ring hidden amongst his personal effects, the one he held on to despite the sickness, hunger and poverty that plagued him, because he wanted to give it to the right partner. When the time was right, Steve would present it to her, asked her the question and spend the rest of his life devoted to her.
“Tasha,” he started again, “I promise you someday we’ll get that life. I won’t rest until we do.”
“And I’ll keep fighting beside you, Steve. Together.”
Malibu, California, December 2013
Darkness. Pitch black darkness surrounded him, then a flash of light and Tony saw himself inside the Iron Man suit, floating in space. In front of him the most grotesque sight greeted him. An army, an alien army, poised and ready to devour everything that stood in its way was in front of Tony. Belatedly, Tony realized he was carrying a nuclear warhead, one that the World Security Council callously launched at the citizens of New York to contain the invasion.
Tony let go of the missile, watching with detached awe as the explosion decimated the alien brigade. It was a beautiful sight, Tony thought, a destruction that would preserve the human race. When would the killing stop, he wondered idly.
Below him the portal started to close. Tony started to fell backwards, gravity doing what it was supposed to do. He hoped he could reach the portal before it closed completely, before the blowback swallowed him completely, but physics accepted no bargain. The speed at which he was falling was slower than the rate of portal closure, he wouldn’t make it.
Steve had said it was a one way trip. Steve would know all about the sacrifice play, he’d done it before, sacrificed himself for the people of New York. Huh, what a pair they made. Die hard New Yorkers. Get it? Insert self-deprecating chuckle here.
Tony’s last thought before two tons of atomic bomb blowback engulf him was that he didn’t get to kiss Steve goodbye.
Tony woke up with a horrified gasp. His amber eyes flickered back and forth, trying to take in his surrounding though in his panicked and frightened state of mind he couldn’t register anything too much. JARVIS’ soothing baritone immediately filled the air.
“Sir, it is now six AM in the morning. You are currently in Malibu, California. The weather today is a balmy seventy-three degrees Fahrenheit and it is predicted to be a sunny day today.”
“Thank you, JARVIS.” Tony sighed in relief. He blinked his eyes again, adjusting to the dim lights JARVIS must have put on to alleviate Tony’s fear (no, not fear. Aversion) of the darkness. It was Winter in California, or whatever passed as Winter in a state like California, the skies were still dark outside, dark enough for Tony to make out some faint twinkles of the stars. Tony’s hand fell on the other side of the bed, untouched and tidy as the person who usually occupied it was away on a mission in South America.
Tony was torn between relief and sadness at the fact that Steve was away from home. On one hand, he was glad that his lover wasn’t here to witness another pathetic episode of Tony having nightmares, yet at the same time he longed for those warm arms to comfort him. Steve’s deep baritone soothing him, telling him that it was just a dream, the beat of Steve’s heart assuring Tony that he was real and that he was here with Tony and that he wouldn’t let anything hurt Tony anymore. Not the invading aliens, not the terrorists that waterboarded him, not HYDRA. Nothing would get past Steve.
It’s a miracle that he had been able to hide these episodes from Steve. He had always sleep better when Steve was with him. Making love with Steve was a mind blowing, passionate, love-fest that always left Tony boneless and sated to the point where he would fall into a dreamless sleep. If they didn’t have some fun before falling asleep, he would always be comforted by Steve’s arms around him, or by wrapping himself around Steve like an insanely codependent octopus. That’s usually enough to keep the nightmares at bay. Having Steve’s presence permeated his every sense did wonders for Tony’s trauma.
He knew he should be talking to someone about this. But there was no one in Tony’s life that he felt comfortable enough to talk about his weakness with. Pepper wouldn’t understand, she’s a civilian and anyway, she has more than enough on her plate. She was now CEO of Stark Industries and she and Happy had just started dating. Pepper’s life was finally not one giant circus-show courtesy of Tony and Tony wasn’t about to rain on her parade by talking to her about his stupid problems.
Rhodey...would understand. He’s a soldier, he’s seen war. He would rightfully pinpoint what Tony’s experiencing as PTSD. His best friend had been trying to get Tony to talk to someone, a psychiatrist, a trained professional well equipped to deal with issues like these but the thought of baring his soul to some stranger was just overwhelming for Tony. It would make him too vulnerable, and he wasn’t about to become vulnerable in front of some stranger. There’s a reason why he built himself a suit of armor after Afghanistan and redemption was just one of them.
He supposed he could talk to Steve. Steve, more than anyone, would have understood what Tony was going through. Steve would listen, would lend a helping hand, wouldn’t push him to talk to anyone he’s not comfortable talking to. Steve would take it upon himself to battle Tony’s demons for him and that-- that was why Tony stayed mum about his problems. Steve had been adjusting beautifully to the 21st century. After the two year stumbling block when they were estranged from each other, Steve seemed to be keeping apace with the changes that was now part of his daily life. Tony liked to think that him being by Steve’s side was helping with his adjustment. Steve still had nightmares and bad days, though the frequency seemed to lessen as the months went by. He wasn’t the same Steve that Tony knew in 1942, the ice nap had ensured that, but he seemed happier, less troubled than the first time Tony saw him all those months ago on the Helicarrier. Steve seemed to enjoy this life that they have together, the easy coexistence they had, how they seemed to fill each other’s empty spaces, making each other happy and content with each passing day that they would wake each other up with loving caresses and kisses.
And Tony wasn’t about to ruin it with a sob story about how he wasn’t able to sleep because had a nightmare. Or nightmares and panic attacks, to be exact. He’s not going to be the one who destroyed Steve’s happiness. He was going to be the one who guarded it.
Shaking his head in exasperation, Tony slid out of bed knowing he wouldn’t be able to get more sleep. He should be downstairs in the workshop anyway, there were still plenty of things to do before Steve came home on Friday, and Tony wanted to make as much headway as he could so he could spend the rest of the weekend in Steve’s arms, reveling in his presence, soaking up all the love Steve send his way and making good memories for their first Christmas together. His latest project, retrofitting the armor so it would seamlessly wrap itself around Tony when summoned, was going well. Just a few more adjustments and it would be ready for its first trial flight soon.
As for his other project, the one he started since he had his recurring nightmares all those months ago, well that’s another story.
Steve drove his motorcycle up the winding road leading up to Tony’s Malibu mansion. When Tony said that he needed to go back to California, because that was where he actually lived, it was no question that Steve would be following him there. There was nothing keeping him in New York, sadly, and there was no way in hell he would be living clear across the country from his partner.
So Steve went to California with Tony. Tony’s Malibu mansion was a wonder, and frankly, it suited Tony to the tee. It’s as if the architect took every aspect of Tony’s personality and created a building out of it. When Steve imagined how people would live in the future, Tony’s Malibu mansion was what he envisioned. The clean, simplistic style with ample lighting and understated luxury screamed future, technological advancement and progress. In short, it was a beautiful house, an extension of Tony and it was clear that Tony loved the house which only made Steve adored the house even more.
He had been away for ten days. Ten excruciating days away from Tony. He knew that back during the war they would be separated for weeks at a time during missions. Hell, their relationship started as a two-year long distance relationship. One would think they would be used to separations by now, but no, it just made them hate being separated even more.
As Steve revved up the engine to drive faster to the mansion, he remembered one Christmas a long time ago where he managed to get a 24 hour leave pass and spent his first and only Christmas with Natasha. He remembered the promise they made to each other about celebrating Christmas like civilians, like normal people who didn’t have to worry about the specter of war and not having the weight of the world on their shoulders. Steve idly wondered if Tony still remembered that he promised Steve a dance and that he’d make it a slow one.
It was a silly memory but one that Steve still clung to as it helped him remember that there was a purpose to everything he did. And now with him and Tony finally having a live together and on the verge of celebrating their first Christmas together, he couldn’t help but think about that day so long ago when the thought of spending the rest of his life with Tony first occurred to him.
When he got to the mansion, the sight that greeted him was peculiar to say the least. There was a giant stuffed pink bunny wearing a Captain America costume on the front yard. Around its neck was a heart shaped pendant that proclaimed ‘Merry Christmas Steve’. Steve gingerly parked his motorcycle next to one of Tony’s numerous Audis and dismounted, looking at the giant stuffed animal in amusement.
Steve wryly shook his head at Tony’s antics. His love had an odd way of showing his affection that was for sure, but Steve couldn’t deny that he found it endearing. Tony showed his affections through his actions and through his words, rare as they were. One would need to read between the lines to decipher what he meant, but Steve never doubted the sincerity of his love and affection for Steve. Every time Tony looked at him or smiled at him, Steve could feel it as surely as he could feel the beat of his own heart.
He stepped inside the mansion with JARVIS greeting him, “Welcome home, Captain Rogers. I trust the mission went well.”
“Thank you, JARVIS. It’s good to be home,” Steve greeted back. It still amazed him after all these months living with Tony just how lifelike JARVIS sounded. Another testament to the genius of Tony Stark, “It went as well as we would have expected.” Which was to say it went to shit in the first five minutes, but Steve wasn’t a master strategist for nothing.
“Tony? Sweetheart, I’m home,” Steve started walking to the living room, calling out to the seemingly empty mansion, “Sorry, I was a bit late. The STRIKE team had a bit of a confusion when I told them to drop me off in Malibu, I didn’t mean for them to literally to drop me off the plane above Malibu, but here we are. Where is he, JARVIS?”
But before JARVIS could answer, he spotted Tony in the Iron Man armor sitting on one of the couches in the living room.
“Hey, there you are,” Steve smiled as he walked to his lover, pressing a gentle kiss to the armor’s forehead. Boy, if Bucky could see him now, kissing a robot all domestic-like.
“Hi, honey. Welcome home! Like your Christmas present?”
“It’s certainly grand. A grand gesture.” Steve answered diplomatically, “Gonna be hard to top that. How are we going to fit it in the house?”
“Uhh, I got a couple guys coming tomorrow. They’re gonna blow out that wall to make room for the bunny.” Tony waved at the wall nearest to his mother’s grand piano.
“Okay…” Steve trailed off, inwardly hoping that Tony wasn’t really going to demolish a wall just to bring a stuffed animal inside, “By the way, why are you wearing the armor in the house? Is this a new one?” Steve took in the design. It was sleek, much more sleek than the one he had encountered in the Battle of New York and with more golden tone.
“Uh huh. Yep. Mark 42.”
Forty-two. That meant Tony had made forty-two whole new suits since Steve left ten days ago. That’s...troubling.
“And we’re wearing it around the house now? Should I start wearing my armor instead of civvies around the house too?” Steve asked, dropping down on the couch to sit next to Tony.
“You know I wouldn’t say no to that, hot stuff. Definitely not gonna say no if you want to wear the Stealth suit to bed. Especially now that I’ve overhauled your whole catalog. The suits are doing your ass justice. ”
Steve rolled his eyes at Tony’s words, “The old one did it justice just fine, Tony. You couldn’t stop looking at them even when you were pissed at me when we first met.”
“They always did say there’s a fine line between love and hate.”
“Speaking of love, when do I get to see your beautiful face? I’ve been missing you, fella,” Steve turned to the armor, voice turning low and husky, “I really want to kiss you, Tony.”
“Uh, um,” Tony stammered, “You could just kiss me through the mouth slit, y’know.”
Steve eyed him suspiciously. Tony never, never , turned down a kiss from him. “That so? Well, I suppose I can just flip open the mask with my superstrength to see your sweet face inside that armor, can’t I?”
“Uhhhhh…” Tony stammered.
Steve sighed loudly and got off the couch, marching downstairs towards Tony’s workshop.
“I wouldn’t do that, babe. There’s a radiation leak downstairs. JARVIS, tell ‘im!”
“I have the serum. I’ll take my chances.”
“Except, except! It’s super not safe, Steve, plum pudding, light of my life. We wouldn’t wanna go through the whole Hulk-creating radiation shebang thing now, would we?”
“Nothing’s gonna happen, Tony. Because nothing’s going on in your workshop except you sending an empty suit to greet me when I come home.” Steve slammed the door of the workshop open to find Tony sitting on his work desk with a console that seemed to be controlling the Mark 42 armor that had been following Steve from the living room.
“Oops. Busted.” Tony said lamely.
“That’s putting it lightly.” Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest, a stern expression on his face.
“Sorry, babe.” Tony said sheepishly.
Steve sighed and stepped further into the room, noting the plethora of Iron Man suits of different paints and designs in the platforms surrounding Tony’s workshop and garage, suits that didn’t exist before Steve left on his mission ten days ago, “Tony, you know this isn’t healthy. When was the last time you sleep?”
Tony started to answer, before Steve amended the question, “Scratch that. JARVIS, when was the last time Tony slept?”
“The last time Sir went into REM cycle was seventy-two hours ago, Captain.”
“Traitor,” Tony muttered under his breath.
Steve shook his in disappointment, “Honey, you’re not sleeping, all because you have this-- this obsession with building the suits. And I don’t understand, Tony. Please, just talk to me. Help me understand why you have to do this. Please don’t shut me out.” Steve pleaded with his lover.
Tony exhaled heavily, slumping back in his chair. Steve walked up to him and gently placed his hands on either side of Tony’s face, tilting that beloved face back up at him. Tony looked exhausted, there were dark circles under his eyes that belied the fact that he hadn’t slept in seventy two hours. Steve’s heart clenched at the sight of his beloved clearly suffering and mentally he berated himself for not noticing sooner. Tony placed his own hands on top of Steve’s, gripping them desperately as if he was afraid Steve would leave at the first sign of trouble.
If not even death could separate them, then nothing would.
“I'm a piping hot mess. It's been going on for a while, I haven't said anything.” Tony whispered, encouraged by the soft caresses from Steve on his cheekbones, “Nothing’s been the same since New York.”
“I notice.”
“It’s not just that we found each other, you know? Although that’s an amazing, life-altering event on its own, but I also-- I experienced things and then they're over and you still can't explain 'em. Gods, aliens, other dimensions. I...I'm just a man in a can, Steve. The only reason I haven't cracked up is probably because you moved in. Which is great. I love you, so much. I'm the luckiest man on Earth. But, Steve, I can't sleep. You go to bed or go on a mission and I come down here. I do what I know, I tinker.” Tony paused, catching his breath. His amber eyes wild with undisguised emotions, not all of them good. He looked scared, like he’d seen a ghost, “But threat is imminent, and I have to protect the one thing that I can't live without and that's you. My suits, they're uh...they’re an extension of me. And building them, working on them makes me feel better. Makes me feel like I’m doing something to protect you.”
“What did you see when you were up there, Tony?” Steve asked him. It was something that he had been dying to know, because he knew Tony saw something up there. The look in his eyes when he first came to among the rubbles on the streets of New York was one Steve recognized and knew all too well: the gaze of a soldier who had seen something troubling, something that would haunt them for the rest of their lives, leaving them shell-shocked. There was no doubt in his mind that Tony was going through the same thing and Steve hated that he was helpless in the face of such trauma.
Tony shook his head, burying it in Steve’s chest, unwilling to speak more about the nightmare that has been haunting him, “Shh, shh,” Steve soothed, “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me now, but when you’re ready, I’m here for you. Alright?” He felt Tony nodded in assent, still hiding his face in Steve’s chest. Steve carded his strong fingers through his messy mop, offering comfort and companionship to Tony.
God, he loved Steve so much. He didn’t know what he would do if something were to happen to him. They had just found each other again, for God’s sakes. It would be too cruel of the Fates to have them separate again so soon. Tony would rather watch the whole world burn down in flames than to lose Steve. He refused to live in a world without Steve again.
“Come upstairs?” Steve asked him again, “we can get pizza and watch that terrible romance movie about us that got everything, except our name, wrong? You can mock them and throw as much popcorn at the screen as you want.”
Tony smiled up at him, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Steve leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on Tony’s lips. It was only meant to be a peck, but days of separation led to the kiss being deeper and more passionate than intended. Tony whimpered at the kiss and clung to Steve, hard and not letting go of him. Steve carried them upstairs, not breaking their kiss the whole way, even as they head to the bedroom and laid Tony down on their bed.
They never did watch the movie that night. They made love to the wee hours of the morning, Tony gasping, out of breath and overwhelmed at the sensations that wrecked his body. Steve covered his body with his own strong body, protecting him from his monsters and the nightmares. Tony could sleep now, Steve’s finally home and save with him.
Darkness.
An army, an alien army, poised and ready to devour.
A nuclear weapon aimed. A nuclear weapon that failed to detonate.
An alien army swooping down on him, the weak human in a tin can.
The gaping maw of the Leviathan as it devoured Tony whole was the last thing he saw.
“Tony! Tony! Tony! Wake up, Tony! It’s just a dream!” Steve was roused awake by the shaking and the whimpers he could feel coming from Tony. Next to him, Tony was curled up on his side, still nude from their love making and his face contorted in misery. Steve tried to wake him up, to shake his lover out of his nightmare by shouting at him. He had learned the hard way not to touch anyone who was battle trained during the throes of nightmare. But Tony wasn’t waking up, and Steve couldn’t bear to see him suffer longer.
He shook Tony awake, hoping to spare him the pain of nightmares. Tony woke up and with him waking up, the mark 42 that previously greeted Steve on his arrival home was suddenly in his face, grabbing his throat and pinning him down to bed, a sentinel guarding Tony against any and all threats.
“Power down!” Tony shouted. The suit powered down, its trademark blue light going black and Tony hurried to his side, knocking the suit away from Steve. Steve sat up gingerly, rubbing his throat to ease the bruising left by the armor’s grip, though undoubtedly the serum was already working to heal him by now.
“Steve, oh my God! Are you okay?” Tony started fussing over him, touching him to make sure he was okay.
“I’m fine, Tony.” Steve assured him, though Tony didn’t seem mollified by it. “I must have called it in my sleep. That's not supposed to happen. I'll recalibrate the sensors. Can we just...just let me...just let me catch my breath, okay?”
“Okay, okay, Tony. Settle down, sweetheart, settle down,” Steve placate him, gently pulling Tony to him, wrapping him up in an embrace.
“Don’t go, okay, Steve? Please, don’t go.” Tony muttered to his chest, he sounded so small and unsure of himself. It pained Steve to see him in such obvious distress.
“No, Tony, never. I’ll never let you go.” Steve whispered in his ears a sacred vow that he intended to keep from now until the day he died.