It was a harmless Saturday evening when shit hit the fan.
Tony, Steve and Bruce were all sitting in the Avengers Tower, having a good time and drinking. A lot.
It wasn't until past midnight, that Tony was finally completely drunk. He was even slurring and that didn't happen that often, given his high alcohol tolerance.
“Hey Tones, you okay? You look a little … tired.”, Steve eventually asked with a soft smile.
“Yeaah, jus' fine.”, the mechanic replied with an exaggerated grin to mask the dark hole in his chest. It always seemed to get bigger when he was drunk. Or simply harder to ignore. “Jus' had a nice thought jus' now, 's all.”
“Yeah?”, the super-soldier grinned. “What thought?”
“You remember tha' time where I uh like kinda challenged tha' weird terrorist-dude?”
“Yeah, man, that was wild.” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Pretty brave, too.”
“And then he blew up my house and nearly killed Pepper and everybody though' I was dead?”
“Um … yeah.” Steve cleared his throat slightly uncomfortable now. He wasn't sure where this was going, but he didn't like it. “Yeah, that was all over the news.”
“Yeah, where the fuck were you?” He didn't even sound angry. Just sad. Sad and small and lonely.
For a second, it was dead-silent in the room. Nobody even dared to move. Until finally, Steve shifted on the couch and said hesitantly: “I mean we also thought you were dead, you know.”
“Huh. You didn't even say anything when I came back.” Tony frowned and sighed heavily. He seemed confused, though it wasn't clear by what exactly. “Sorry.”
“What uh … what are you apologizing for?”
“For bringing this back up.” The mechanic suppressed a hiccup and reached for another glass of Scotch. “Shouldn't be this petty.”
“Hold on, you died??”, Bruce finally asked, completely dumbfounded. “I didn't even know!”
“How did you miss that? It was on every news channel.” Steve raised a brow at the scientist, while at the same time trying to contain the guilt washing over him.
“I wasn't exactly in town, you know.” Perhaps it would have gone very differently if he had been here. Home. On earth and not triggering the apocalypse on Asgard.
“Doesn't matter, I'm fine now, jus' … forget I said anythin'.” Tony got up from the couch and walked to the elevator, swaying slightly. He shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't his right to accuse them of not caring because, if he was honest with himself, he knew that nobody ever cared or ever would.
He just wished it wouldn't hurt that much.
He made it to his workshop until his facade fell apart. Tears ran down his cheeks and dry sobs fought their way up his throat, while his legs started shaking, hands balled into fists. He staggered towards the cabinet next to where he kept his suits and took out a bottle of Whiskey. Then he made his way to the couch, only a few feet away.
If he was too drunk to ignore the emptiness in his chest any more, then he'd have to drink himself into oblivion, so that he couldn't feel a damn thing any more! If everything else was numb, too, that hole wouldn't be this nagging any more.
He hoped.
Unfortunately, he was only half-way through with the first bottle, when suddenly Steve stood in front of him with a concerned frown. “Tony, are you okay?”
“Peachy.”, the mechanic mumbled, although he wasn't even trying to fake a smile. That effect would have been destroyed by the tracks of his tears anyway. “Jus' peachy.”
“You don't look 'peachy'.” He looked anything but peachy, to be honest.
“Don' you know? Tha' 's how I always look.” He gave the super-soldier a pained grin. “I just hide it real well.”
“Do you want to tell me what's going on?”
“No.”
“C'mon, tell me.” Steve sat down next to Tony and tried to reach for the Whiskey-bottle, but the genius held it out of reach and then pressed it against his chest rather defensively. The soldier sighed and tried again, gently prying the bottle out of the other one's hands, who let out a whine at the loss. “Please.”
“You don' wanna know.” Instead of the bottle, Tony was now hugging himself, staring off into the darkness of his lab. He didn't remember it ever being this dark.
“Yes I do.”
He let out a dry laugh, loud and rough, his eyes glistening with something sad and desperate. It wasn't a happy sound. “No you don't.” He let out a heavy sigh. “You're too … too something. For that kinda crap.”
“I'm your friend, Tones. Talk to me.”
“Steve, you may be a good soldier. But you're not a good … f-listener.” He'd gotten dangerously close to saying 'not a good friend', too close, but it wasn't his place to judge others. It wasn't his place to tell somebody else that they'd done something not right, because he himself had done so many things so wrong. He had lost the privilege to judge a long time ago. “Jus' go an' be the nice patriot.”
“I'm not going anywhere. Just tell me what you want to say. I don't care if it's rude or anything.”
“Oh do you now, huh?” Tony nodded to himself, then smiled, then sighed. “Fine. Fine, I'll tell you. But don't say I didn't warn you.”
“Alright. So, what's wrong?”
“You know how you asked me tha' one time what I'd be without my suit?”
“You said 'Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist'.”
“I lied.”
“... how so?”
“I'm a Genius, Billionaire and a lonely fucker who destroys everything and everyone he loves.”
“You don't destroy everything you love.”
Tony let out a bitter laugh at that absurd thought. “I created Ultron. I nearly destroyed the team. I tried to hurt Bucky. Kill him probably.” He leaned forward, leaning on his knees with his elbows. “I mean no' even my dad loved me. So there's tha'.”
“I'm sure he did, Tony. Maybe he didn't say it, but I'm sure he loved you.”
The mechanic gave him a thoughtful look. “I guess you'd know better than me.” He didn't even look angry about that. Just … empty. “You were important to him. Used to talk about you a lot. And then he-he died and you knew who did it.” He looked a the other man once more. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I … I didn't want to hurt you.”
“Didn't work.”
“No, it didn't.” Steve sighed. “But Tony, you can't go and blame yourself for everything that's ever gone wrong in your life.”
The mechanic gave him a strange look at that. “Steve, there's something about me tha' you don' understand.”
“And what would that be?” He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.
“My father didn't love me. Or maybe he did, I dunno. Didn't tell me. My childhood was dark and sad and lonely and I did a lot of things wrong. And I … I always knew he loved you more than me. There's nothing to argue about that, because it's the truth. You were just more … fascinating to him. I understand that.” He let out a heavy sigh. “And I didn't really have friends, you know. I was the odd nerd nobody wanted anything to do with except for his money. And then you came along. You and the others and you were nice and we were a team and I thought I had found friends, but then Bucky came and everything just got … ripped apart. I have nobody left. And the weird thing is, that I don't blame you. It's just that … others started blaming me and now I just … I just believe it. There's no reason not to.”
“Oh Tony.” Steve leaned over and put an arm around the mechanic, pulling him closer until his head lay on Steve's shoulder. The soldier held him gently but firm, softly running a hand through his brown hair. “I didn't really blame you. I just wanted to protect my friend and for his sake I abandoned the ones I already had. I should have been more … considerate.”
“I'd just kind of hoped I'd be important enough for somebody to be … I dunno, worried. That at least somebody would look for me.” He turned his head, so that he could hide his face in the other man's neck, his tired eyes falling closed every few seconds as he breathed in the mild scent of Steve. “I'm sorry you have to deal with this. Me.”
“It's okay, Tones. I wasn't there for you when you needed me, but I'll do my best to make it up to you. Not because I have to, I know you think that, but because I care about you and I want to help you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Hm.” Tony let his eyes fall closed one last time. “Okay”, he mumbled, then he was gone.
Only a few minutes later, Bruce entered the lab and found Tony curled up against Steve's side, while the soldier held the mechanic close, one hand in his dark hair, the other one holding Tony's hand.
“Is he okay?”, the scientist whispered with a concerned frown.
Steve looked down on the sleeping man with a soft smile. “He will be.”