The Team
When Clint opened the car door, he almost started crying again from what he saw. It was just like movie night, with Tony on the floor, seemingly not aware of anything. Shakily climbing into the car, Clint tried to remember what to do. After a while of him struggling to catch and hold a thought through his panicked mind, Clint gave up and just grabbed his friend and pulled him close. Clint began to whisper comforts and encouragements to his friend, while even rocking back and forth a bit.
After about ten minutes, Tony began to calm down. When he finally realized what had happened, he immediately tried to get away from Clint, but the car was too small. “Tony, please calm down,” Clint quietly said to his friend. When Tony tried to pull away a second time, Clint dragged him up onto the seat. “Come on Tone, I want to talk to you before we head back inside.”
Tony’s body was weak, so he stopped fighting and decided to listen to his friend. “Okay Legolas, talk.”
“We all saw the press conference from where the kid stood up to the end. Also, Jarvis played some of the surveillance from last night, where you said some pretty messed up shit,” Clint began. Tony knew it was only one small part of a much longer speech.
“I always say messed up shit. It’s who I am. No reason to get all deep and meaningful on me,” Tony said, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Could you please not make any jokes right now? God Tony, we’re all worried about you, and you just pretend nothing is going on-”
“Because nothing is going on! I’m fine, and I want to go inside because I’m tired.”
“You’re tired because you just had a panic attack on the floor of your car, and all you did was talk about the portal. Also, we both know you aren’t going to sleep when you get inside,” Clint said.
“Aw, you’re making me feel predictable. If you must know, when I get upstairs I plan on drinking copious amounts of alcohol,” Tony answered matter of factly.
“No, when you get inside you are talking to your team. We all just want to help you Tony, please just let us.”
“Sorry Merida, I do not want or need your help. I’m sorry for worrying you all, but it was never my intention. Why do you think I never told you? Because all it will do is bring more stress into your lives, and you don’t need that. I am just making your lives harder, and I plan on getting better so I can stop.”
“Tony, you don’t need to go through this alone, we don’t mind helping you!” Clint said. Tony wasn’t listening, he was already leaving the car, heading towards the tower.
+++
When Jarvis alerted the team that Tony had entered the building, they were all relieved. That is, until he didn’t walk into the room after twenty minutes. “Where is he?” Asked Natasha.
“Mr. Stark is currently in his workshop. He has it on complete lockdown, nobody else can get in,” Jarvis answered, his voice disapproving.
“But if something happens, you can alert us, right?” Steve asked.
“No, Mr. Stark has enabled code yellow, which means no matter what, I can not allow anyone into the workshop for any reason. The code expires in two days, and can not be reinstated until another two days have passed,” Jarvis explained.
“So we have to wait two days to see if he’s okay? No way! Did you hear what he said at the press conference? He’s practically suicidal, and he doesn’t have some rage monster keeping him alive! He needs us!” Bruce yelled, with a surprisingly pale complexion. The Hulk seemed to like Tony, and when it came to him, usually did what was best for him. Right now, he knew that they needed Doctor Banner.
“Is there any way to get to him? What if we shut off the power? Would we be able to break in then?” Natasha asked, her mind already thinking up plans, and trashing them when they ended in failure.
“No, he has manual and mechanic locks on. If you turned off the power, there would still be the usual locks on the door,” Jarvis replied.
“Are there any keys?” Clint asked, walking into the room.
“Yes, in the workshop with Mr. Stark.” Jarvis sounded sad.
“We can't just leave him in there!” Steve said.
“I don't think we have a choice,” Natasha stated gravely.
+++
Over the next two days, each Avenger reacted to the situation in their own ways.
Steve, always the mother hen, had tried to go down to the lab. He knocked on the door and pleaded at Tony to let him in, to at least tell him that he was okay. He never got an answer. On the first night, he left a plate of food outside the door, and he tried again to get a reaction from Tony. When he didn't, Steve left, resolving to come back tomorrow.
The next morning the plate was untouched. Steve tried one more time to speak to Tony. When he got no answer, he went to the training room upstairs, where he ran into Natasha. She was staring at the wall blankly, but Steve saw the underlying emotion. The usually cold assassin had finally broken down.
Steve sat down next to her, not speaking or touching her. He knew that his company was comfort enough.
As he sat with her, he saw the results of her breakdown on the wall. It was covered in knives, most hilt deep, but he saw that some looked like they were thrown half-heartedly. ‘It's beautiful, in a way’ the captain thought.
The destruction was like art, the wall a canvas. It told a story of heartbreak and uncertainty, and Steve spent hours just looking at it, analyzing it. Eventually, he fell asleep.
Natasha didn't even notice.
---
Natasha didn't know how to deal with it, she had never had to handle this type of worry or grief before. The only other person she's ever felt like this for before was Clint, but he wasn't wishing death. Clint was fighting for his life. Everyone pretty much left her alone while she tore the training room apart, throwing knives were stuck in the wall, and there were things that she broke just from hitting it hard enough. That was only the first day.
On the second day, Natasha was tired. She wasn't used to all of the emotions that she was feeling, and it all caught up with her all at once. She crumbled under the pressure of it, letting it all crash over her in a wave. When the first tear slipped, Natasha realized that the people we're wrong.
She did have a heart.
When Steve found her, she was just sitting on the floor, staring at a wall impaled with knives. He sat down with her, and they just stayed silent, comforting each other with their presence.
-------
Clint had gone down to the shooting range that Tony had built in the tower just for him. ‘That bastard is too considerate’ he thought. Clint was more emotional than Natasha, and he was hit pretty hard by what Tony said. He also had a hard time with the battle. Loki had taken over his mind, and he knew how Tony felt; like the world was moving on and he couldn't understand how. As if he didn't belong here anymore. Like Tony said, after something like that, you don't just bounce back.
Knowing Tony felt that way was like a slow torture. Clint couldn't stop blaming himself for not noticing his friend was suffering so much. Because of course, Clint was struggling, but Natasha had noticed and been there for him. He had someone to help him. Tony hadn't gone to anyone, and nobody had noticed. He was alone.
Clint shot an arrow at a target on the wall and cursed as it hit a foot away. His vision was blurring, and he angrily wiped his eyes. ‘And I’ve had training’ he thought. He had been trained by SHIELD to deal with this kind of grief.
On the second day, he didn't even bother with a bow and he used guns. The familiar feel of it helped to steady his shaking hands. With one more quick swipe at his eyes, he began to shoot at the body shaped targets. He imagined Loki’s stupid smirk, his ridiculous outfits on each one.
He hit the targets every time.
-------
Bruce sat on his floor the whole time. He never left it.
At first, he meditated. At least, he tried, but he couldn’t clear his mind. All he could think about were all of the signs he had missed. All of the signs that showed his friend was suffering.
Of course, there was the fact that Tony would leave the room or change the subject any time the battle was brought up. He assumed that Tony was just bored of it, but he was wrong. Suddenly, he remembered a conversation Bruce had had with Fury.
(Flashback)
It was just after the meeting Fury had called to go over the battle strategy from New York, and Stark had never made an appearance. Steve left mumbling about how immature Stark was, Natasha and Clint didn't care. Bruce stayed behind to talk to Fury.
“Hey Nick, do you know why Tony didn't come?” Bruce asked.
“Because he's Tony Stark, and today he didn't think we were worthy of his presence,” Fury replied.
“I don't think so. Usually, he complains, but he always comes to the meetings. He’s never missed one before.”
“Well, what more can we expect? We all knew who he was when we brought him on the Avengers, now we must deal with the consequences.”
Bruce frowned. He didn't think so. “But I think it's something with a deeper meaning,” he said.
Fury laughed. “Trust me, Stark is anything but ‘deep.’ He's the most shallow person I've ever met.”
Bruce left without another word.
(End of flashback)
He grimaced at the memory. He would speak to Fury again.
Bruce blamed himself for not knowing his friend was hurt. Of course he would feel out of place after something like that! Bruce spent the entire two days remembering all the times Tony showed he was hurt, and all the ways he could have helped if he had only noticed.
---
Tony’s two days were hell.
As soon as he stumbled into his workshop, he looked for the whiskey stash he had hidden in there. When he found it, he needed Dummy to open a bottle for him because his hands were shaking so much. He took a long sip and let himself cry.
One bottle later, Tony had an idea.
He wasn't thinking clearly as he desperately tried to find the sleeping pills he had thoughtlessly thrown away.
He only wanted to sleep. He wasn't even thinking of the nightmares…
When he finally found it, he couldn't read the dosage because he was drunk and crying, his vision was blurred.
So he just took a handful.
The mix of drugs, alcohol, and just pure exhaustion finally lulled him to sleep. It was peaceful for at least a few seconds.
Then he was thrown into his nightmare, full force.
After having told the story of it earlier that day, it was all more vivid than ever. It felt so real, that Tony didn't even try to wake up because he thought it was actually happening.
He relived every panic-stricken moment, every strangled scream, and every hard-earned breath over and over again.
It was a never ending loop of hell.
That's how Tony spent his first day.
On the second day, Tony woke up. As soon as his eyes opened, he vomited.
Having alcohol before he slept was not his best idea. He stumbled to the bathroom. His body was weak after the nightmare and from his lack of food or water. He splashed water on his face and fought back the nausea he felt when he stood up for too long.
Deciding he couldn't deal with sobriety right now, he grabbed another whiskey. He poured it into a glass this time, and picked it up with shaking hands. Before he took a sip, he stared at the amber liquid and thought of what he was doing.
Was it really smart to drink when he was in this condition? He was in a workshop surrounded by dangerous objects. He knew from past experiences that he could be stupid when he drank a certain amount. He got careless and giggly and weird.
Maybe he needed a little careless, giggly, and weird.
He opened the bottle.
Five glasses later, Stark forgot all of his problems.
“Jarvis! Pull up my unfinished projects list!” Tony said, thinking that working was a very good idea. It's been awhile since he worked.
“Sir, I would advise against-” Jarvis started but Tony cut him off.
“The list, please!”
Suddenly, a hologram showing all of his unfinished projects appeared before Tony, and he decided he didn't want to make anything on it.
“Close the list, J,” Tony said, brainstorming a new thing to build.
“Yes, thank you sir,” Jarvis replied. The hologram flickered away. “Would you mind eating anything?”
Tony frowned at the thought of food, and his stomach clenched. He pushed down his hunger. He didn't deserve to eat.
Tony took a long sip of his whiskey. “No thanks, not hungry.”
Suddenly having an idea, Tony began to make plans for a new machine.
He worked for a few hours before he passed out drunk again, a victim to his nightmares again.
+++
It was the third day, and the Bruce, Clint, Steve, and Natasha were all standing outside the door of the workshop. They couldn't see in, and the silence was a bit unsettling.
“Should we knock?” Natasha asked.
“Yeah,” said Bruce, stepping forward. He lightly tapped the door and sighed in relief when a hoarse voice replied.
“What do you want? Go away,” Tony said through the door. The team flinched when they heard a sound like water hitting the floor, and a series of coughs afterward.
“Tony, are you okay?” Steve asked, concerned.
“Yes, I'm fine,” Tony answered. His voice was weak. They heard the sound again. “Go away!”
“No! Damn it, Tony, let us in!” Clint said, pounding on the door.
“Trust me, you don't wanna be in here. I'm a mess, it's a mess. Everything is very messy,” Tony sighed. “I need another drink.”
“Have you seriously been drinking?” Natasha asked.
“Yes…” Tony sounded uncertain. “It lifted my spirits, and it helped me sleep.”
“But you shouldn’t drink when you get like this, especially not in your workshop,” Bruce said.
“I can do whatever I want,” Tony said. “I'm an adult, I make my decisions. You don't have to clean up my messes, I'll do it myself.”
“Yes, but it's easier with help,” Steve said.
“Please, just let us in,” Clint asked.
There was a long moment of silence before Tony answered.
“One person,” he said.
The team all looked at each other. After discussing it for a little bit, they decided on who was going to go in.