Chapter 2
Tony was somewhat shocked at the amount of rage he felt when Steve opened his eyes. He’d been expecting relief- and don’t get him wrong, he was definitely relieved- but he hadn’t been expecting the amount of anger that suddenly hit him full force like a slap to the face.
He had just walked through the front door (or the equivalent of one relative to a tent), Steve in his arms bridal-style, and he’d felt him begin to shift. Hurrying, he reached a bed and placed him down in it before his eyes opened properly.
He tossed and turned for a couple of minutes in the bed before he finally blinked his eyes open. Tony was prepared to hug him, make some sarcastic comment about sleeping beauty or something, so the pure rage that ran through his veins when Steve’s eyes finally found his caught him completely by surprise. He assumed that was why he responded why he did; he didn’t have time to stop himself.
“What the hell, Rogers?” he hissed, eyes narrow and glaring.
Steve’s eyes widened, and then his brow furrowed in confusion, his face contorting into what seemed to be about 5 expressions at once. Tony immediately felt guilty.
“Sorry, that- that wasn’t fair, I didn’t mean,” he paused, scrubbing a hand down his face “Sorry. Let me start again. Hey Steve, how’re you feeling?”
Steve stared at him blankly for a second. “What?”
Tony chuckled, running a hand through his, a nervous habit. “I said, how’re you feeling.”
I’m- did I miss something? I swear you were angry, like 10 seconds ago? Are- are you mad?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely. But that’s gotta wait until you’re feeling 100%. So for now, are you ok?
“I’m fine.”
“Ok, I’ll try again, this time you’re actually going to answer truthfully, yeah? Are you ok?”
Steve set his jaw and looked Tony straight in the eye. “I’m fine.”
Tony simply raised an eyebrow, giving Steve his patented Tony-Stark-Doesn’t-Believe-A-Single-Word-You-Just-Said glare. “Mmhm.”
“I am!”
“…except?”
Steve sighed. “Except my head is killing and I’m super dizzy. And tired.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet kiddo.” Steve frowned at the nickname, but Tony ignored him. “Going 117 hours without any rest tends to do that to you. Why didn’t you say something, Steve? Why didn’t you just-” He cut himself off, realising his tone had gotten angrier again. “Why didn’t you just speak up Steve?” He finished, voice giving away how tired he was.
“I-I don’t know. I wanted too- really, I did!” He rushed too add when Tony looked unconvinced. “I wanted too so, so bad, but…but there was never a good time. Someone else always needed it more, like Rhodey, when he hurt his wrist, or Nat, near the end, or, uh…”
Tony felt his stomach drop. “Or me.”
“That’s not what I meant, Tony-“
“Oh God, when- when I hurt my shoulder, I remember now, I heard it on the comms but I ignored it, didn’t think anything of it, God, Cap I-I’m sorry man.” The sudden guilt on his shoulders was almost unbearable. The gash on his shoulder hadn’t even been deep, it had been stitched up in a matter of minutes and then he’d been good to go, but Rhodey convinced him to take his full 3 hours out. He knew Steve wanted a break, but he took his anyway. “I should’ve come back to the field, let you take your break, God, I was so selfish-”
“Hey, Tony, no that’s not- I didn’t- you weren’t being selfish, you needed the break, you were injured, and I was fine at that point! None of this is your fault, I swear! And- and I wouldn’t change what happened today. You’re all way better off for it.”
That didn’t make Tony feel any better. In fact, it did the complete opposite, and he was just about to tell Steve as much when Clint beat him to it.
“Steve, if you think you being injured is better off for us, then clearly you don’t know us all that well.” Clint’s tone was icy, and Tony was pretty sure he was just covering up his worry, but glancing at Steve’s face he knew he had to intervene.
“Clint-” he tried, but Clint just spoke over him, louder.
“No. I’m not done. What the hell, Steve? Do you know how awful that was? I had no idea what was wrong with you, and you just passed out? In the middle of a battlefield? Do you know how scared I was? And you’re not sorry? I-” Clint’s voice grew louder with each sentence, and Tony realised he wasn’t going to stop, wasn’t aware of Steve flinching with every word, wasn’t even aware of what he was saying.
“Clint!” he yelled, and breathed a sigh of relief when Clint stopped, eyes snapping from Steve’s to Tony’s.
A moment of silence passed, Clint’s heavy breathing being the only sound, before both Tony and Clint turned to look back at Steve.
His head was turned, looking away from them and out the window, but the convulsive swallowing, and shaking hands told Clint all he needed to know. He was a spy after all.
Tony watched as all the fight drained out of Clint’s tense form, before he spoke again, voice raw and shaky, after being forced to swallow his anger.
“Steve? Hey, look at me. Please. I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean to yell, I’m not really mad, not at you, at least. I promise.”
After what felt like an eternity, Steve turned to look at them. Tony’s breath caught in his throat, heart clenching as he met Steve’s eyes. They were watery and red, and he could tell he was fighting not to cry.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He said in a small voice. Tony was still fighting against the shock of seeing the tears in Steve’s eyes (he never let the team see him weak, he always hid it until he was out of sight. Tony supposes that’s what made this so much worse. Steve was so tired and out of it that he was barely clamping down on his emotions, and it was so unlike him) that he was unable to answer, and was relieved that Clint managed.
“It’s ok, man, I know.” He pulled Steve into a gentle hug, a small smile on his face. Tony rolled his eyes good-naturedly when Clint lifted his arm up as an invitation to join in, but didn’t protest when Steve pulled him in.
Only about 30 seconds had passed before Tony realised Steve was asleep. He smirked and softly removed himself from the hug.
“Hey, where’re you-” Tony held a finger to his lips, effectively getting Clint to shut up, before pointing to Steve, who’s head rested against Clint’s shoulder, eyes closed and breathing deeply. Clint grinned, carefully shifting Steve so that he was laying on his bed again. Wordlessly, Clint and Tony left the room.
When Steve next woke up, Nat and Rhodey were sat in chairs next to his bed.
“Oh. Hey.” He smiled, sitting up.
“Hey man, you look better.” Rhodey grinned. Admittedly, he felt better. He ached way less, and his ribs had definitely healed.
“Yeah, I feel it. Sorry about the whole, you know,” he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling sheepish “freaking out in the middle of a mission thing.”
Rhodey snorted, “Consider yourself forgiven.”
Steve turned his attention to Nat, who smirked softly at him. “Honestly Steve, I step out for a couple hours and you manage to send the team into a panic and pass out twice in the space of 20 minutes.”
“Yeah, well, I gotta make a dramatic exit, right?” a moment of comfortable silence passed, before Steve spoke again “How are you, by the way. Last I heard you were in medical.”
“Oh, yeah, it was mostly superficial, nothing they should’ve kept me off the field for.” Steve’s smile faded. Nat might keep a tight lid on her emotions, but Steve liked to think he’d gotten pretty good at reading her. Yet again, he realised another of his teammates felt guilty over his inability to admit he needed something. Apparently Rhodey noticed too, because he quietly excused himself from the room, something about getting coffee.
“Nat, you know this wasn’t your fault, right?” he asked gently.
“I tried to get them to let me back on the field.” Natasha’s way of saying no.
“This isn’t on you, Nat, it’s on me.”
“No, Steve, it’s on us. What kind of teammate forgets another? We completely skipped you during the breaks and none of us noticed, Steve. We aren’t exactly feeling great right now.” She laughed humourlessly.
“Come on, you know I’m not mad. I don’t blame you at all.”
“Well I wish you would! Shout at us, ignore us, give us the silent treatment, tell the nurses not to let us visit you, blame us! Anything! At least then we could make it up to you! Right now, you trying to take all the blame? That’s worse. It’s so much worse because we can’t apologise to someone who wont accept it. I wish you’d just be angry.”
Steve blinked at her, unsure what to say. “…sorry?”. She glared at him, and Steve figured that wasn’t right. “I, uh, I mean- get out of my room?”
Nat couldn’t help but laugh. Those were the words she had wanted to hear, but the tone was completely off. “Yeah, thanks Steve.” She said, still laughing. Steve just grinned back at her, before putting his hand on hers.
“But seriously, try not to feel too bad, yeah? I’m fine now, and that’s all that matters.” He gave a her a crooked smile, hoping it helped. Of course, he knew it wouldn’t. He’d been where she was now, and knew the guilt didn’t disappear just because someone told you to stop feeling guilty.
As if reading his thoughts, Natasha answered quietly, “You know I can’t.”
“Humour me.”
“Only if you humour me.”
Smirking and rolling his eyes, he said, a smile still plastered on his face and in his voice “Natasha, how could you. I can’t believe you.”.
“Wow, Steve.” Nat replied dryly, “You should become an actor.” They continued to stare at each other, seeing who could last longest. Of course, Steve cracked first, breaking into quiet chuckles, followed soon by Nat. Their laughter was slightly hysterical perhaps, both having been through a fairly stressful mission, and both running on not enough sleep, but they figured laughing hysterically had to be better than crying hysterically.