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The flags are drifting in the wind, a deep red that paints the sky in the colors of a hero. The blues and whites are there too but all Tony sees is the red. It stains everything, even the good things.
He’s at the funeral. Steve’s funeral. And it’s loud.
“Tony, are you ready?”
He blinks and turns. Pepper is there. Somewhere in the crowd among the sea of familiar faces is the remnants of the Avengers and the legacy Steve once built. An empire that’s slowly falling to pieces.
He knows he shouldn’t be here. Steve should be. He should be alive and standing right here, telling the world that Iron man was a hero, or maybe that he tried to be.
Tony doesn’t know how to feel as he climbs the steps. Each movement feels heavy like lead and threatens to pull him into a never ending abyss. A darkness that Tony knows he won’t be able to climb out of. It’s an end that Tony knows will be his last.
Much like these steps. They pave the way to his final resting place.
The stand feels cool to touch. Someone has kindly left him some sheets of thin paper with words on them. The plan for this event and a few things to say in case he cant' think of anything. And tissues. There’s a small collection of tissues neatly pinned to the board.
It almost bites at Tony. This is a farce. The whole thing is a farce. Tony opens his mouth to speak.
He’s told he barely says much. It’s not really something he remembers too clearly. He knows his throat feels sore and his head pounds and his heart breaks. It’s similar to what he’s told.
Apparently he broke on stage too. And now the whole world knows.
Little does he realize, it’s just the beginning.
The logical part of Tony knows it’s the next step. It had always been part of the plan, especially if things hadn’t taken a turn for the worst. Shield needed a leader. And it was gonna be him only...
The small part of him that still feels, knows it’s wrong. He can’t stand there and don the uniform and take Steve’s place, he can’t.
He’d always hoped that Steve would be the leader. That maybe he would take over Shield and take the next step. It isn’t supposed to be him, not by a long shot since he knew what people thought of him.
He wasn’t liked. Not the way Steve was.
“Director on deck!”
Tony lives a half life here on the Helicarrier. It’s dark and dreary and lonely in a way he hadn’t imagined. He’d always been on a separate plane to others but now he feels even further from reality than before. Before, he was disliked. Now he is hated.
Maybe it should bother him more than it does.
“Director Stark, you’re needed over in Washington.” Maria says to him and gives him a disgusted look before turning away. Behind her, the agents are muttering to themselves and passing judgement.
Well let them judge, Tony thinks with a tired heart. It’s only fair they see him for what he is.
He’s a murderer. A cold-blooded killer. Everything Steve made him believe he wasn’t. It almost makes him hate Steve for throwing him off from the truth. It borders on sickening.
“Sure. Just let me suit up.” He says with an empty stare, and doesn’t bother to say anything else when Maria turns back and frowns a little and parts her mouth to say something.
He turns on his heel and leaves before she can. It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t want to hear what she has to say. It’s only been a month after all.
If Steve was here, he’d have probably made him turn back round. Tell him he can’t just keep ignoring others. But Steve’s not here. Tony’s all that’s left-the forgotten remains in an empty house. Steve was the substance and he was always extra.
And he knows, better than anyone that they’re all fucked for it. Tony knows it completely. He’s about as useful as Steve is right now.
The apathy has seeped into his bones. He’s set like this now-his new default. There’s no going back.
Steve may have died. But Tony feels dead inside. Maybe that’s wrong but it’s the closest thing to real he can feel right now.
It’s probably even worse then, that he wishes he were dead. Just so that he could stop feeling altogether.
In the early days of his time as an Avenger, Tony had spent a lot of time with Steve. They’d been through so much together, a never ending tale that spanned through time. Looking back, Tony probably romanticized it a lot more than it had actually been. Steve hadn’t loved him after all. He would’ve said something if he had.
In the rare moments where Tony reflects on the past, he is often reminded of how close he’d been to saying something. To revealing everything he’d felt, right down to the core. A singular truth that he’d always hidden away from the man he loved.
Steve hadn’t known. No one had.
It hurts to think about being so close to someone else. Tony doesn’t think it’s possible but as he lies there in the directors suite in the dark with his eyes wide open and bloodshot with fatigue and a misplaced sense of grief (you don’t deserve to feel for him, you don’t deserve him-) he realizes that maybe having someone, feeling someone will bring back some life for him. Maybe something to remind him of what he felt for Steve. Maybe something to distract him.
So on one particular night, about two months after Steve’s death (fifty-six days, three hours and twenty-two minutes) where he feels adrift and lost in the emptiness, he gets up from his bed, leaves the room without a sound and finds his suit. The Helicarrier continues to roar as he takes his suit and leaves.
In the morning he comes back with marks on his body and tears on his cheeks. He aches something awful and knows he’s made a colossal mistake. This is something he’ll never do again.
He feels open and exposed, like a wound scrubbed raw. The grief he’d pushed aside, flares and peaks. He should’ve known better.
You can’t replace the sun. You can only eclipse it for a few moments. It will always be there.
“You need to see a doctor. You’ve lost weight.” Carol says to him. Three months after the funeral, Tony gets visitors on the Helicarrier. Sam, Carol and Pepper have come to see him and it turns out Maria invited them. So now, all four of them have pulled him aside and want to talk to him. Apparently they’re worried and so are a few other Shield agents.
“I’m fine.” He assures, though he knows he’s missing that lightning spark behind his smile. Instead, it’s a tired old thing that sits there, more out of habit than any real happiness.
Tony hasn’t felt happiness in a long time. He doesn’t think he ever will now.
“Tony, look at you. You can’t go on like this. You’re going to have a complete breakdown.” Pepper says but Tony can see the hatred in her eyes. Happy is gone of course and Tony should’ve known better than to think Pepper would accept him so soon after. Happy’s death was his fault. So was Steve’s. And now he hates himself as much as Pepper probably does-maybe even more so.
But she doesn’t know that. When he looks up from his desk and meets her eye, he sees a shadow there that wasn’t there before.
“It’s okay.” Tony says and turns away to look out of the window. In his office, he has a good view of the sky. It’s an array of oranges and purples, almost burning when he stares.
The sun always returns. You can’t look straight at it without burning your eyes, but it’s always there.
Tony turns back to the four and blinks tiredly. It’s hard to pretend he cares.
“Tony...”
“I have work to do.” He says and pushes himself up from his desk to walk around them.
Carol puts a hand on his shoulder before he leaves.
“Tony.” Carol says and Tony squeezes his eyes shut because he knows what she’s gonna ask and it’ll sting but he hates that she has to. After all, he came close during the issue with the SHRA and if Carol has spoken to Sue then...
Well there’s not really much faith to be had. His track record is starting to look pretty grim.
“Have you...?”
Mute, he shakes his head feeling a shadow of anger. He’d never. Not ever. No matter what. He wouldn’t go back down that route no matter what. In the depths of the ocean, enclosed in his vibranium coffin, Steve would never forgive him. Tony would rather drown than pick it up again.
(But he knows where his last stash is. Where he keeps that last bottle. The worst temptation in the world. It's so hard.)
He hears Carol smile before she speaks.
“Thank god. I was worried you’d break.”
Ha. Jokes on you. I’m already broken.
He sees Steve in everything. He sees his happiness, his smile, his sharp mind and calm persona in everything. He even sees that unbelievably strong sense of justice that Steve used to have.
Steve was an inspiration. So much more than people had hoped.
Tony is nothing in comparison. People see him and look the other way.
He's everything people don't want him to be. A disappointment, a distraction, an empty space that was never filled. He is a ghost of himself and people know.
Sam and Carol are worried. He's pretty sure Maria is too. She's one of the few that doesn't lift her nose at him when he walks. The Avengers are the same too.
He's quickly benched. They all sit him down and tell him he needs some time off, that Steve would want him to have this even though he knows damn well that Steve doesn't give a shit. He can't anymore.
So, under the guise of being too busy as Director, he's benched indefinitely and given a therapist and doctor. He sees them once and accepts the prescriptions but doesn't do anything else with them. They won't be enough, he knows. He needs to keep busy.
Wandering the halls of the Helicarrier, he's surprised to learn there's a small library on board. God knows why, but he finds himself going there a few times. Maybe because it's the biggest change from seeing Shield agents and thus, anything to do with Steve, or his life.
The library isn't really a library. It's more of a small room with a small seat and a cupboard with books. They feel dusty and forgotten and Tony feels something ache at the thought. It quickly fades however when he takes a seat and fishes out a book.
It's called 'Eclipse of the Sun', and when Tony turns it over and reads the blurb, it talks about a totalitarian government and a world of propaganda, confusion and disinformation. The story suggests that it focuses on a small family in North America where the father publishes a paper that speaks a little to closely of the truth. He's arrested by the dreaded 'Office of Internal Security', and his older children flee into the forest of the northern interior with other family members in the hopes of finding freedom.
Tony closes the book and stands up. His whole body feels numb and shakey and he thinks he's gonna throw up.
He doesn't. But he does take the book to his room. Maybe he'll find the courage to read it.
He sees Steve in everything. But he also sees himself. And that's always harder.
There’s a fine line between living and staying alive. Some days are harder than others. Not once does Tony think of what Steve would say.
A lie. He wonders if Steve would’ve been worried about him. If Steve, like Pepper and Carol and Maria and Sam, and now Rhodey and Don Blake and Natasha and several others would try to pin him down and pull the problem out of him.
It’s simple really. He hurts. He hurts everyday and it hasn’t gotten better, not even a little bit. It’s been four months and he still feels Steve’s absence like a gaping hole in his heart. Sometimes he wakes up and just lies there, staring at the ceiling and wondering what it must be like to be enclosed in the same coffin Steve’s in, and be carried into the depths of sea, free from anything that can hurt you.
It’s not right but he knows he’s been thinking about that a little too much. He knows you’re not meant to think about things like that, that it isn’t healthy. But he does wonder and he does wish.
What would it be like? Would it be better than this?
It’s on a night where Tony is thinking about this, that he gets a visitor. A man dressed in uniform, holding a gun and stepping out of the shadows to face him. Just the man Tony’s looking for.
“Barnes.” Tony murmurs and stands from his desk. Carefully, he slides open a draw and takes hold of the letter-the one Steve’s lawyer gave him.
Bucky Barnes is the man Steve asked him to save in his letter. That should sting more than it does but when Tony first read it, he’d just felt numb. Steve had spoken to him from beyond the grave and he’d been so lost for words that he’d barely been able to respond. But it gave him purpose and he’d been looking for James Barnes to fulfill that purpose ever since.
And the Winter soldier had come to him. A perfect result.
“I’m glad you came.” Tony says quietly and steps around the desk. He’s unarmed and has had good practice of making himself as small as possible. It’s not hard when you carry the weight of your burdens. Tony doesn’t feel anything else these days.
“I have a letter. Steve wanted you to-“
Bucky snarls and launches himself at him, shoving his arms across his throat and slamming him so hard into the wall, his vision goes black. The desk rattles and pens and sheets scatter. Among them is the letter that Steve wrote-hand wrote for him to read.
Tony closes his eyes and wishes for the end. His head throbs and he can’t breathe. He doesn’t even try to move or speak as Bucky pushes him harder into the wall.
The letter is in his mind. Thoughts of the ocean and a kind smile of a man that once knew him. The flags dipped in red.
“-ark! Stark! Stark!”
He’s on the floor. Someone’s shouting his name and pressing fingers to his neck. Another hand is hovering over his nose and mouth and as he breathes and starts to cough, he hears a sigh of relief.
“Jesus, Stark.” Bucky says and shakes his head before standing up and staring down at him. “I thought I’d killed you.”
For a fraction of a second, Tony wants to cry. He’d come so close.
“Yeah.” Tony croaks and slowly sits up, feeling the world spin. “You nearly did.”
Bucky grunts and bends over to pick up the letter. It’s a little bent at the corners but still pristine otherwise and Bucky handles it carefully as he reads. Tony simply watches as the realization dawns on Bucky’s face.
“I can’t.” Bucky says and stares at him with a face full of regret. “I can’t be him.”
“No. No one can.” Tony agrees and stand up shakily. “But we need someone. And it can’t be me.”
Maybe he gives himself away but as he looks at Bucky, he knows instantly that Bucky knows too. After all, there’d been no fight.
“Don’t do something hasty Stark. He cared about you too, I know that.” Bucky warns and follows Tony’s movements with dark eyes when he touches the bruise marks around his neck and doesn’t let Extremis heal them. It feels good to feel something after so long. The pain is bittersweet and the best thing in a long time.
Tony drops his hand and shakes his head with a soft laugh.
“Don’t worry about me. I think we all know what he thought.”
“No, you don’t.” Bucky says firmly and puts the letter down. He continues to stare at him like he can read into his very soul and Tony doesn’t know what to think of that. Or about any of this really.
No one can replace Captain America but they need to move on somehow. Steve is just facilitating that. Was.
“And why can’t it be you?” Bucky asks, though his expression is grim like he already knows.
“I think we both know why. We need something permanent.” Tony says quietly and looks at the letter on the desk in a new light.
His time is limited and he knows then with a startling clarity, that he’ll be joining Steve soon.
Relief, it turns out, is something he can still feel.
Everything is a process. Tony accepts Bucky’s conditions and helps him don the Shield. As much as Tony doesn’t want to admit it, Bucky takes to the role like he was born for it. A more violent Captain America, sure. But Captain America none-the-less.
Tony sees Bucky eyeing him closely during meetings though. Like he knows what’s happening.
“Stark, you know he wouldn’t want anything...bad for you, right?”
“I know.” Tony smiled. The first real smile in a long time.
He’s preparing. Bucky was the first step. Now he needs to deal with assets and that leads him to his properties.
Stark industries goes to Pepper, Maria is named Shield’s designated director after him and Bucky and Sam are made to lead the Avengers. It’s all going to plan. All that’s left are his personal affects.
He’s in the mansion. It’s broken and hollowed out and still feels like a home. He’s alone and stepping around the broken floorboards carefully, looking closely for his things, mainly the pictures are what he wants. But more importantly, he just wants to feel a sense of home before he dies. Something to help him find the strength.
He was Shellhead once. Iron man, a brother, a friend, a hero, an Avenger. He was someone who brought hope and joy to people’s lives.
Steve brought out the best in him, as he always did for everyone. He would always approach you with a smile and a clap on the shoulder and a compliment of some kind. Tony had always done everything to go above and beyond for that praise.
Now, seven months later, Tony stands alone, watching the world from the sidelines and feeling caught between the old and the new. Maybe this was how Steve felt when he first woke up. Tony doesn’t know how to cope with it anymore. He’s a dam about to burst. He’s falling apart at the seems.
As he walks through the mansion, he sees the picture of the original team standing tall. The glass is cracked and faded on the floor and feeling sick to his stomach, Tony bends over and picks it up, not even flinching when the broken glass cuts his hands. He still hasn’t healed the bruises around his neck. It serves as a reminder for what he needs to do. A noose around the neck of a ghost.
The image of the Avengers stares back at him. And with it, Steve’s bright smile and warm eyes.
Suddenly Tony can’t take it. After months of staying hidden, the dam begins to break.
Tears leak from his eyes. His throat closes up and threatens to choke him and he hears sobs start to escape from inside. He kneels slowly on the floor and holds the photo frame to his chest as he bends over and weeps for the first time over Steve’s death.
“I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry.”
He cries quietly for hours. It’s dark when he finally looks up. He can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to do this anymore.
“I’ll be with you soon.” Tony whispers quietly and presses the frame to his heart and he stands up to leave with new resolve.
There’s one mission left. And that will be it.
That night, he flies back to the Helicarrier, the world feels quiet. There’s an unease stirring in the corridors as he smiles manically at the Shield agents for the first time. He knows they’re probably spooked by the image he portrays. His cheeks are damp and his eyes feel sore and in his shaking hand, the cracked frame is still there, plain as day for everyone to see. He looks like a mess.
He goes to his quarters and locks the door. He gets changed, gets ready for bed and pulls back the sheets. The frame is placed on the bedside table and he settles himself comfortably before reaching into the lower draws for the bottle of alcohol he’s kept there since Steve died. He hasn’t had a drop but he pulls it out every night and looks at it, picturing just how much better he’d feel if he did.
Tonight he pulls it out and settles it by the frame. Then he takes the painkillers and pills he’s had in the draw for months and places them next to the bottle. The bottles are full and waiting. In the morning he’ll take them.
Tonight he just wants to dream. One last time.
He’s settling into the bed with a small smile on his face. He closes his eyes and things fade.
After some time however, he hears a knock on the door. With a soft groan, he blinks his eyes open and rolls over. It's quiet for a moment but then the knocking starts again and he pulls the duvet over his head and ignores it, feeling a pit in his stomach. No one can know what he’s about to do. Come morning, no one will see him like this again.
The knocking gets louder. Turns to rapid banging. It almost grates on Tony’s nerves but he’s buzzing with too much nervous energy to show it.
Carefully, he slides out of his bed and walks towards the door. A quick glance at the neon blue holo-clock on the wall shows it’s four am and that no one should be up. It’d be reasonable to leave it closed. Still, he gets up an opens it, not sure why.
The corridor is pitch black. The man standing in front of him is half masked by the shadows.
“Tony.” The man says and instantly, before Tony can even register, wraps his arms around him and pulls him to his chest. His entire body encompasses Tony’s very being and he almost frowns when he takes a deep breath.
It doesn’t make any sense.
The man smells like Steve. He feels like Steve and sounds like Steve and holds him in a way that Steve does. Or used to. But it still doesn’t make any sense unless...
A broad smile stretches across his face. For the first time in months, Tony feels alive.
“Hey there soldier.” Tony grins against his shoulder and pulls back gently to face the man’s eyes.
“Maybe step into the light where I can see you?”
The man, Steve, nods tensely and steps forward like a man treading through snow. He walks slowly and carefully but reveals himself in the light completely for Tony to see.
Tony lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He feels close to bursting, he's so excited. “Steve.”
He looks as good as Tony remembers, tall and proud only instead of his uniform, he's wearing Shield issue tracksuit pants and a matching black jacket with the logo on. He also seems strangely out of breath and his hair is array and slightly damp with sweat, like he's been running. Odd but not bad at all, he still looks amazing.
Steve stares back at him with a dark, ugly gaze in his expression. His lips are pinched and his shoulders are taut and he looks coiled like a wire about to spring. But he follows Tony like a man starving. His expression is haunted and in the thin blue light, Tony sees fear on his face.
“Tony. You’re okay.”
“Oh, of course.” Tony laughs and runs a hand through his hair, feeling giddy. “Never been better.”
But Steve isn’t convinced. “Tony, I need you to listen. I know this is a lot to take in but you need to listen to me-“
“What’s there to take in? There’s me and you and it’s all done. Gone. Vamoose. Dust in the wind.” Tony says and smiles, eyeing a certain book collecting dust in the corner of the room. “My sun is back.”
“What?” Steve frowns and then widens his eyes in horror before grabbing Tony roughly by the shoulders to look at him.
“What have you done, Tony? What have you done?” Steve demands, looking ice-white as he shakes him gently, and when Tony looks at him, really looks at him, he sees Steve’s eyes filled with tears and fear and roaring pain.
“Steve...it’s okay. I promise, everything’s okay now.” Tony whispers softly and cups Steve’s cheek gently and it really is the best feeling. Steve’s so warm, even in death and it warms his soul in a way he’s not felt in a long time.
“No...Tony, god.” Steve croaks and to Tony’s dismay, starts to cry. “What have you done?”
“Nothing.” Tony frowns and tilts his head. “I’m dead aren’t I?”
Steve’s eyes are red. He looks miserable and utterly defeated. No, he looks worse. Like he's about to break.
"No." Steve croaks and shakes his head. "I was too late. I was too goddamn late."
Steve then pulls him in and holds him again. He cries in Tony's hair and mumbles words that Tony can barely make out. But from what he hears, he can tell something's not right.
"I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so sorry. God, I can't lose you, please-"
It makes no sense. They're together now. Sure, Tony doesn't remember taking the pills or the drink but he must've done it some time in the night. Maybe he'd simply drifted in his sleep and the ocean had swept him away. Maybe he'd died of a broken heart.
He doesn't care. Steve's with him now and that's all that matters.
"I love you." Tony says quietly and Steve stills before letting out a gasp and squeezing him tighter.
"Tony." Steve cries and now it's even worse. Steve is trembling and Tony's hair feels damp and Tony wonders why Steve feels so much for someone so worthless. He's just a man. Steve is so much more.
"Hey, don't worry. This is for the best." Tony tries, though he feels his throat closing up as Steve's cries get louder. "I'm happy. This makes me happy. I wanted this."
"How? How could you-?" Steve gasps and sobs and can barely string a sentence together without breaking and Tony's stomach curdles. This isn't right. Steve shouldn't be this upset.
The dim light reflects off something in the distance. The photo frame is still on his table. The bottle is sitting next to it and so are the pills.
He didn't take them. He hasn't taken them yet.
"Oh." Tony breathes and feels awash with sadness. He's not there yet. This isn't real.
"You're a hallucination." Tony says quietly and holds onto this false image of Steve with longing. "I should've known."
False-Steve doesn't stop crying. But he does freeze at the words.
"Should've known what?"
"You're not real. I'm just as pathetic as I was before. Sorry." Tony sighs and gestures towards the items on his desk. "Probably just a last ditch-effort from Extremis. Probably to stop me from killing myself."
Tony tries to pull away then so that he can get to his bottle. His ticket to freedom, an escape from this Hell. He's Icarus flying towards the sun, so close he can taste it.
Only the hallucination doesn't let him. The grip on him turns painfully tight, tight enough to leave bruises. He's pulled back so that the hallucination can look at him.
"You haven't done anything? You haven't taken anything?" The scarily accurate Steve says and before Tony can even open his mouth and say anything, Steve is following his eyesight and turning to look at the things on his desk. Then he lets go and heads for his desk.
"Steve, what're you-"
Steve ignores him completely and grabs the bottle of alcohol. Then he takes it and smashes it into the wall, letting the liquid pool on the floor in a mix of glass and drink. The pills get snatched next. They're emptied and dropped into the mess and before Tony can even breathe, Steve crushes the pills under his boots and grinds them hard enough for the floor to dent. When it's done, he turns back to Tony with a shadow over his eyes.
Tony is gobsmacked. His head spins as he stares at the mess and the hallucination standing over it. Maybe he's finally lost it. But hallucinations are never that real-
"I'm real." Steve says and his eyes burn into Tony's very soul. He looks angry and he's shaking now, looking ready to sprint. "You haven't taken anything. I'm alive."
"I..." Tony swallows and looks at the floor in a daze. It can't be real but there's so much not adding up and-
"This is real Tony. Otherwise you wouldn't imagine me doing that." Steve says quietly, sounding resigned, like he knows the truth. And what makes this real.
"You wouldn't...you wouldn't stop me. In my head." Tony croaks and feels his heart ache. "You wouldn't...you wouldn't cry for me..."
"Unless this is real." Steve urges, stepping closer and Tony hears the faint crunch of glass. "Because you don't know how I feel. How I felt when I died."
"No. But I can guess."
"I have loved you-"
"Stop-"
"For years Tony,-"
"I said stop-"
"I can't believe you'd actually consider..." Steve shakes his head and bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. "You would've...to yourself if I hadn't..."
"I wanted to." Tony blinks and tastes salt on his lips. The air cools his cheeks and he realizes he's crying too. Once upon a time, he might've even been embarrassed. "It wasn't worth it."
Steve jerks sharply at that. His blue eyes narrow and meet Tony's head on. He looks in control but Tony can see how much his lips are trembling. The tears are still falling.
Tony doesn't have anything left to say except-
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If It wasn't for me, you would've still be alive. You wouldn't have-"
"Tony stop." Steve holds up a hand and it sounds like he's hurt. "I know-"
"And I'm sorry about the SHRA." Tony gasps and sobs, scrubbing at his eyes hopelessly. "I'm so sorry, I was wrong, I was completely wrong-"
"Tony-"
"You should just leave me. Leave me to die." Tony cries into his hands and his vision is so blurred and he feels lower than the low, like he's worse than every single rotting piece on earth. He's tainted and awful and so far from what Steve and everyone else deserves for what he's done and it's about time everyone realize they're better off without him. Hell, if they won't let him die, maybe he can just delete his memories, even that will be enough for him-
"No, never." Steve says darkly, like he's angry beyond reason and despite knowing he deserves anything Steve wants to do to him, Tony still flinches when Steve comes right up to him.
"I will never let you go Tony. There's nothing you can do to stop me caring about you." Steve says and doesn't budge even for a second. His gaze holds Tony's very soul. Steve says it like he truly believes it. It doesn't make sense.
"You should be dead." Tony croaks.
"So should you. If I hadn't stopped you."
"How?"
"Bucky told me. As soon as I woke up. I wasn't dead, Sharon never killed me. It's a long story but I was suspended in a coma and Bucky's been working to help me since he realized."
"Oh." Tony says numbly and just blinks tiredly. It makes sense he wasn't told. It wouldn't have been fair to involve Steve's killer in the mix.
"He didn't tell you because it would've made you an even bigger target. And from what he tells me, you were in no condition to defend yourself. He's already fought off several threats against you." Steve says and clears his throat, stepping even closer.
"I told him to. I left him a letter. And Carol and Nat and Sam and a few others. I told them to take care of you. Make sure you were okay if anything happened, even if I was imprisoned. I was worried."
It made sense. That would explain why they had all been so careful with him. Maria had even stopped him from going on missions as Director a few times, now that he thought about it.
"They did a shit job by the looks of it." Steve says and when Tony looks up, Steve's expression is bleak.
"But the SHRA-"
"Forget the SHRA. Forget everything for a minute." Steve says quietly and hugs him again gently. "You didn't even grieve, did you?"
He hadn't. He hadn't been able to. The very thought of thinking about Steve had paralyzed him. But more than that, the sheer amount of regret and loss and guilt. He'd killed Steve. They'd fought before he died. Steve had died thinking they hated each other when it was only half true. Tony had never had a chance to say goodbye.
"Come to bed. You need to sleep." Steve murmurs softly and when Tony feels himself being guided to the bed, he doesn't resist. He feels too empty, like his insides have been scraped raw. There's too much for even him to process however when he's made to lie down, and sees Steve stripping down to his boxers and stepping towards him, it hits him then.
"You're alive." Tony whispers and watches Steve settle into the bed with him. The bed dips when he lies beside him, and Tony can feel the heat coming off him instantly. It really is Steve. He really is alive.
"Yes." Steve breathes and slowly reaches out for him. "Can I hold you?"
"Yes." Tony breathes back and slowly, he shifts close enough for Steve to pull him by his waist and hold him close. He pulls the covers up and then it's just the two of them.
"Go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning." Steve says and though he doesn't smile, there's a strength to his eyes that Tony hasn't seen before. He looks reborn. Stronger and new.
But he's still Steve. Even the way he feels is the same.
"Sleep Tony." He hears and before long, feels his eyes fall shut and his body loosen. He thinks Steve doesn't look away and silently he prays that this isn't a dream. That either Steve is alive or he is dead. Either one.
Throughout the night he hears someone speaking to him in his dreams;
"You're worth it Tony. You're always worth it."
In the morning Tony wakes up and feels arms around his waist and feels something for the first time in months. A feeling so strong it almost envelops him and makes him whole.
This is real. He can feel the sun.