RIP

two

Tony doesn’t remember heading back to his room, the room he’s barely stepped foot in since Phil’s disappearance.  He somewhat remembers a hand on his back and another on his stomach, a man’s soft voice whispering comforting nothings into his ear.  The wisps of memory he still has reminds him of leaning over the toilet, gripping the porcelain seat, retching while someone strokes his hair and keeps him from collapsing over.

Tony rolls over, vaguely aware that now he’s wearing fresh clothing and that there’s something warm covering him.  Blearily, he opens his eyes to find a mound of blankets piled on him.  His mouth tastes gross, his head is pounding, and he really needs a drink--

And then the rest of his memory comes flooding back.   “Fuck.”   Tony bolts upright in bed, eyes wide.  The name Phil is still stuck in his throat like the excess water in your lungs that comes from almost drowning.

Sure enough, his suite is empty.  No Phil, no warm brown eyes, no soft, amused smile.  “Nope nope nope,” Tony says into the empty space.  “I am not crying again.  Suck it up, Stark.”

Briefly, he wonders who took the time to bring him upstairs and clothe him and stay with him even when he was puking his guts out, but then shakes the thought from his mind.  He knows none of the Avengers could possibly care about his wellbeing enough to have to deal with grieving incoherent Tony.  He probably crawled into bed by himself, and the memories of a phantom person are just his mind craving comfort.

Slowly, Tony gets out of bed and goes to the restroom.  After a quick shower and brushing his teeth, he feels a little bit better.  The man in the mirror above his sink doesn’t look like Tony Stark.  He looks...crumpled, like a paper doll that’s been played with too many times.  Tony scrubs a hand over his face, and then goes back to bed.  “Hey JARVIS, what, what time is it?” he mumbles.

“Ten am, Sir, although I would highly suggest that you go downstairs as--”

“JARVIS, mute,” Tony says tiredly.  He doesn’t want to think, because for the past few months, all he’s been doing is thinking too much.  He takes his tablet off his bedside table and turns it on, beginning to work with the schematics of Clint’s new explosive arrows.  Working always helps him calm down, and soon enough, Tony’s immersed in equations and numbers and calculations, his pain forced into a little box in the back of his mind.

.+.

As soon as Phil had woken up, he checked on Tony.  Even in sleep, the man’s face looked worn and his eyebrows were drawn together.  Tony slurred something indecipherable and began to thrash around, jaw clenching.  “Shh,” Phil murmured.  “It’s okay.  I’m here, Tony.  I’m here.”  Almost immediately, Tony’s breathing began to even out again and his face slackened.  As soon as he knew his lover--his husband-- was okay, Phil slipped out of bed.  “JARVIS, call all the Avengers to the main living room,” he commanded.  JARVIS had showed him the feed of Captain America (I can’t believe he used to be my idol) taunting Tony yesterday, and the rest of the Avengers just fucking standing there while his husband had to take the insults until he finally broke down.

“Of course, Agent Coulson,” the AI replied, with a note of pride in the robotic voice.

“Like I said, it’s Phil.”  Phil shot a weary smile at one of the cameras he knew was perched in the corner of the room.

In a couple of minutes, all the Avengers had made their way down to the living room.  Steve was confused and a little wary of what Coulson would want them down here for, but he had an inkling.  It was going to be about Tony, wasn’t it?  While Steve could understand that Tony was a hero for taking that nuke into the portal four months ago, he also didn’t get what Coulson saw in him.  How could Coulson idolize Captain America but still love Iron Man?  It didn’t make sense.

As soon as he saw Coulson, he said, “With all due respect sir, I apologize for hurting Tony yesterday, but I didn’t know he was going to break down like that.  Stark is a little...well, you know how he is, he’s your...boyfriend.  He doesn’t tell us anything, so I never expected him to take things so harshly.”

Steve, to say the least, wasn’t prepared at all for the harsh uppercut that slammed into his jaw.  He knew it’d leave a bruise as soon as Coulson’s knuckles glanced off the bone.  The agent was immediately in his face, glaring at him--a very unusual look for someone who was normally so calm and unruffled.  After a few seconds, Coulson rocked back on his heels, giving Steve more space.  The placid expression on his face was firmly back in place.

“Tony is my husband, firstly.  Let’s make that clear,” Phil said calmly.  “Secondly, if you ever speak to anyone like that again--not just Tony--then I will fuck you up in ways you can’t imagine.  Thirdly, it disgusts me that I used to idolize you.  You always say that you stand up for the little guy against bullies, Captain, but it seems to me that you yourself are the bully.  Fourthly”--Phil turned to regard all the other Avengers (excluding Thor, who was still on Asgard)--“you all are to blame as well.  While Rogers berated my husband, taunting him until Tony was crying --and Tony never cries--you all just stood there and watched.  Banner, Tony thinks very highly of you, yet you stood there and didn’t say a word.  I understand that you aren’t confrontational.  But let me say this: you are extremely lucky that Tony is so nice.   Too nice, in fact.  He’s probably already forgiven every one of you, even Steve.”

“Sir,” Steve said, and at least had the grace to look a little ashamed, “we just didn’t know that Stark--Tony--was married.  Married to you.  I thought that since he didn’t attend your funeral, he just didn’t care.”

Phil spoke very slowly and deliberately, his anger pulsing beneath his skin.  “So you thought that because Tony didn’t care, it was okay to tell him that everyone would leave him and no one would ever love him?”

“I--I didn’t say that,” Steve said.  “I wouldn’t say that to Tony!”

“JARVIS, please play the conversation between Rogers and Tony yesterday in the kitchen.

Instantly, Steve’s voice echoed throughout the silent room.  "There's nothing to be worried about. Stark's just being the selfish, uncaring asshole he's always been.  So selfish that you couldn't even bother to come to Coulson's funeral, huh?  I thought you'd at least have the decency to show up for a man who sacrificed himself for US. But...I'll admit it--I was wrong. You have no respect for anyone but yourself. I'd be surprised if anyone except for your CEO Pepper showed up to YOUR funeral."

“Steve,” they heard Clint say hesitantly in the background, but then Steve’s voice continued.

"That's probably the first time you've ever lost a soldier, huh.  Well, we all are soldiers. So you'd better get used to Coulson being gone, because if you wouldn't even show up to his funeral, I get the feeling that not many people have been sticking around for you."

"Shut up, Rogers.  You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough to realize that you're just a selfish child who will never have any regards for anyone but yourself. If anyone actually got close enough to love you, they'd leave you after seeing--”

“Okay, okay!” Steve said a little desperately.  “I was really mean, I know that now, but--”

Phil cut him off effectively by forcing his face right into Steve’s.  “There are no buts, Captain.  You made Tony cry, and you haven’t even tried to apologize since.  I wouldn’t care if Tony threw you out of the Tower right now, even though I know he won’t because that’s just the kind of person Tony is.  Always trying to make people happy.”

Steve throws out one last barb, something to save his quickly-dying pride.  “I just thought he’d be more like Howard,” he defended himself weakly.

Coulson’s jaw tensed.  “Howard Stark was a neglectful asshole who never bothered to pay attention to Tony at all.  That man was cold and calculating on his best days and drunk off his ass on his worst.  So don’t you ever talk to Tony, or anybody else, like that ever again, or I will end your role as Captain America.”  He turned his gaze on the rest of the Avengers.  Even Natasha seemed to cower beneath the power of his stare.  “I really hope you manage to prove you aren’t complete assholes to Tony and I in the future.”  Phil took another breath, and then continued to lecture the Avengers, a smirk beneath his calm expression.  

.+.

When Tony finishes Clint’s new arrows, he realizes he’s starving and drags himself out of bed.   Okay Tony, the kitchen will be empty.  Don’t think about what happened yesterday.  Steve won’t be there today.  

“JARVIS, where are the rest of the Avengers?”

“In the living room, Sir,” JARVIS says promptly.  There’s a miniscule hesitation.  “Sir, you may want to head there right now.  There is something that would lighten your mood if you would take the time to see it.”

Tony shakes his head.  “I don’t want to do anything involving the Avengers right now,” he says, and sighs.  “They don’t want me there anyway I bet.  Alert me if there’s a call for the Avengers to assemble, but otherwise, nothing about Steve and the rest of them.  All right?”

“Sir,” JARVIS begins, but Tony cuts him off.   “JARVIS,” he says once, tiredly, and the AI falls silent.  

He takes the elevator down and pads down the hallway, wondering what all of the Avengers could possibly be doing in the living room together.   Probably talking about me, he thinks bitterly, laughing about how fucking weak I looked yesterday.  

He tenses as he hears Steve’s voice filtering through the walls, but then stops when he listens to just what the supersoldier is saying.  “I know, sir.  I was wrong.”

“Wrong isn’t enough,” the man talking to Steve says.  “I expect a very nice apology.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says.  

“To Tony,” the man says coldly, and Tony freezes.  That voice--he heard that voice yesterday in the kitchen, and sometime in his dreams, but…  No.  No.  Phil is dead.  How many times does he have to go through thinking his husband’s alive only to be hit with the bone crushing reality?  He’s not falling for this again.  No no no.

Tony peers into the living room, and he sees Phil just as the man turns away from Steve with cold, cold eyes.  “Never again, Rogers.  And that goes for the rest of you,” Phil Coulson says strictly.  “Now, I’m going to go back to my room and check on Tony, because he’s probably awake by now and beating himself up about what happened yesterday.  But if I ever hear a bad word about my husband, the consequences will not be pretty.”

“Phil,” Tony says, and he thinks he’s beginning to cry again.   Oh God, Howard would have a riot if he knew I cried twice in two days.

Phil turns and his eyes soften.  “I’m sorry you had to hear that, baby,” he says, making his way over and taking Tony into his arms.

Natasha and Clint are the first to leave.  The two assassins give Tony a nod that manages to convey their guilt about what happened, and Tony nods back.  Bruce leaves next, whispering, “I’m so sorry, Tony.  I’ll be waiting for you in the lab, if you want to come.”  The billionaire smiles a little into his agent’s shoulder.  “How could I miss getting to hang out with my science bro?”

Bruce smiles back gratefully and leaves, shoulders a tiny bit less hunched.

Steve is the last to depart, hanging back with an ashamed expression on his face.  “God, Tony.  I would understand if you never forgave me.  I was really harsh yesterday.”  Phil shoots him a look.  “And I--I was wrong.”  Steve sighs, holds out his hand.  “I’d like to start again, if that sounds good to you.”

Tony takes his hand cautiously.  “This doesn’t change anything, Rogers,” he says simply.  “But I’d like to start again too.”

Finally, the couple is alone in the living room.  Phil takes his lover’s hand in his own.  Tony notices the green patches that have already spread across Phil’s knuckles and frowns slightly.  “What happened?” he murmurs into the space between his husband’s ear and the start of his shoulder.

“I may have punched Captain America,” Phil says, and Tony can hear the smile in his voice.

“I’m impressed,” Tony says back, and hugs Phil impossibly tighter.  “I love you, Phil.”  He feels the arms encircling him draw their bodies closer to each other.

“I love you too, Tony.”