A Different Kind of Slumber Party
There was a trend, Jarvis began to notice. Ever since the Avengers had begun to live at the tower with Tony, their beds are used loosely for their usual purpose of rest. No Avenger ever slept but Jarvis was a smart AI, he knew from his master, PTSD and Insomnia were no little matter.
Whenever Tony had a nightmare, he would wake up screaming, grasping his arc reactor like it would suddenly vanish. Without bothering to try, Tony would stand; get a bottle of booze and then go downstairs, turning AC/DC on high. After that, for the rest of the night, he'd drink and invent, then cry, drink and invent, and cry. Soon he'd stop all together and simply sob to himself. Jarvis was forbidden to speak during this time.
Bruce had better nights then Tony, but not by much. Bruce always woke up slightly greener; he'd first go to the bathroom and puke before he'd wash his face and see his reflection of the Hulk, reacting so badly, Tony never bothered to by him mirrors anymore. In sequence, Bruce would return to bed and stare at a picture of a woman, thoughtful, before studying his notes, looking more determined as he looked at her picture every few moments. When he was close to sleeping, he'd bite himself to stay awake, always drawing blood, hurting himself, punishing himself. Some nights, Bruce had no control and would fall under. Bruce could go through this process almost three times a night.
Clint didn't even wake. All night, Clint would toss and turn, screaming and crying, begging too. He could never find the strength to awake and would relive his greatest fears for hours on end. Everyone thought he was a heavy sleeper, that was a lie. Clint just couldn't find a reason to get up.
Steve was the record breaker, sleeping between two and three hours before the war would awake him. Steve was a light sleeper, awoken by anything, even the slightest change in the temperature could get Steve panicking and calling for a woman he called 'Peggy'. Fury knew and he chastens him for not sleeping, but Steve couldn't stand the thought of closing his eyes for so long. Steve just slept for 70 years; he didn't want to wake up to another 70 years pass.
Natasha didn't bother. Too many years on the streets and as an assassin has made it impossible to sleep alone. 'Tasha used to sleep with Phil or Clint watching her but Phil's dead and Clint has his own problems; there was no one else she trusted as of yet. And so, the Black Widow sits on her bed, facing the door, polishing her gun. Waiting. Ready for whatever came through that door. Alone.
Thor was strange when he slept. He usually slept comfortably, no nightmares, but he was always conflicted. Thor would wake up at midnight on the dot, sit up, then look out the window, thinking. Thor looked to the sky like it had all the answers; he'd pray to his father for the answers, and he tried to find the answers on his own. Never has Thor found a solution to his equation of life.
As fate would have it, or really as Jarvis would have it, on one of their many restless nights, all the Avengers had been lured into the cross-hallway between the kitchen and living room. All of them were surprised to see the others awake and up and about. Before they could exchange words or leave, the popcorn popper and coffee maker started.
Everyone jumped, staring at it when suddenly the theme music for Looney Tunes came on. Everyone glanced at the three electronics before they shared the slightest of smiles. Why spend the night alone?
The Avengers were cursed with secrets that they paid for greatly. Alone, they suffered but maybe, together their burdens could be lessened, and their shoulders could gain rest.
The End
