After the battle was done and over with, after the News broadcasters went home, after the sun fell, the Avengers decided that it was better to stay a night. So before Loki went with Thor, before they split off into different directions, before the cleaning and fixing began, all who were in New York City slept in the ruins of the Stark Tower. In the rubble of the floors there was not a single quiet moment; every sleep broken with nightmares, whimpers, and cries. Yet, with the plagued sleep too familiar for most, nearly every single body slept throughout the night.

There were only two who could not bring themselves to slumber.

The owner of the tower, Tony Stark, was up and walking - no amount of sleep would keep him from feeling tired. Every time he closed his eyes he was swept back into the void of space, back to what should have been his death. Sleep always evaded him in the past, but he was the one escaping it this time. There was no way to shut his mind down that did not involve a bullet.

This is how CC found him; hair and clothes ruffled, forearms braced against the railing that followed a grand window, entire body tense. She had her own demons following in her wake and could not sleep either - screams echoed even in her own mind, the walls of her subconscious painted in the blood of those she had killed. CC refused to bend to her mind and forced herself awake; she could barely think about what she had done, she didn't need her sleep reminding her, too.

With dull eyes and leaden limbs, CC slowly made her way next to the dark-haired man; moving any faster would probably give him another heart attack and she just didn't have the will nor the energy to walk normally. Tony made no note of her presence besides a small glance in her direction, but with his glazed eyes, CC wondered if he saw her at all.

The silence between them was a strange and uncomfortable mix of pleasant and awkward; they knew exactly how the other was feeling, but neither would dare talk about it.

Hesitantly, as if the quiet that stretched taunt between them would shatter, Tony mutely asked, "Why is a pretty lady like you awake at this ungodly hour?"

CC blurted out, "Do you really believe in gods?" While that was not even close to what she meant, Tony went with it; anything to keep him busy.

"Considering that I was fighting alongside a man who is, in all fairness, a god, I'd have to say yes." He paused and, in a hushed whisper, added, "If I believe in the God, however, that is something entirely different." Tony slid his eyes to the left, just barely looking at CC.

She felt his probing stare and cleared her throat, all gravel and broken glass, and, after a few still seconds, answered his initial question, "Nightmares. You know how it is."

A deep inhaled was the first thing CC heard before a nearly impenetrable sigh of, "Yeah, I do."

Again, the stillness carried on, neither knowing what to say. What could they possibly talk about? This continued as the sun began its slow travel across the horizon, waking with the early risers of business men and church goers and clean-up volunteers; everything bustling back to life as the City That Never Sleeps stretched its spine in an overdue yawn. For some, it was just another day, but for the two who looked down upon the cement streets and steel building, nothing would look the same.

With sunlight in his eyes and adrenaline in his muscles, Tony spit out, "How are your arms?" He didn't mean to say that, but he needed something. Anything to keep him from plunging over the railing he leaned on.

CC was startled out of her reverie by the sharpness of his voice and she knew Tony had stepped out of the lethargy that was the night and into the realization of day. CC was all too well versed in how wonderful the dark could be; no one would be able to see the trail of horrors behind her when they could not see. Snapping into an answer, she spoke a quiet, "Fine." and left her answer in the pain of her skin and her now-hypersensitive focus of her nano-tech arms. Maybe talking the complex machinery would help Tony, but it would do her no favors.

Knowing that Tony needed a distraction - she needed one as well but refused to admit it, refused to say that she needed help - CC went off with, "I keep seeing them. Their faces. Their eyes especially. I could have broken free, I could have snapped out of it, but I was too weak." From there, she couldn't stop. Words became a waterfall and her mouth was the opening; CC spilled out her nightmare with each fear, each face she took unwillingly, so sure that she could have stopped herself if only she tried a little harder. That, yes, she was under Loki's complete alien mind control; but a strong enough push could have set her free.

When her voice could finally take no more, her throat closed up and she choked; no amount of will could get her to speak on. As this happened, Tony took it as his turn, speaking about how black the universe is and, as he turned his face towards the heavens, how everything seemed so bright with no light. How chilling the air was only for him to easily overheat when coming back home. That everything was so closed in for something so vast, how close yet far apart he and the aliens were; Tony could only talk about how nothing was how it was suppose to be. Even when he was positive that he was dead, he was not. To him, that was the scariest thing, to not know if you were dead or still alive.

By the time their souls felt lighter and their nightmares faced, both could hear others finally waking with groans and curses. Neither felt any better for what they told the other, but the feeling of not being alone was a blessing. They did not feel as if what happened could be excused and the feeling of blame still laid heavy on CC's mind, but she knew that if she ever needed to come back, this is where it would be.

Not a word was exchanged between them as Clint, already dressed in his gear and ready, yelled from the kitchenette, "You guys want coffee?"

Tony turned and, finally, looked at CC. He raised a single eyebrow and, still voiceless, she nodded. Normality is something she would embrace. Tony nodded to Clint and held up two fingers, to which Clint nodded back and worked as more and more people came looking for their savior in the smell of coffee from wherever they had crashed.

CC patted Tony on the shoulder and left once she saw Natasha, knowing that the infamous Black Widow would understand her feeling better than anyone. Clint came up with two mugs, confused when he saw only Tony. The other man just sighed and took the coffee from him and shrugged, silently observing the red-headed assassin and blonde mercenary from across the room.

Clint, feeling something off, asked, "So, what were you two talking about?"

Not missing a beat, Tony said, "Oh, just science stuff. You wouldn't be interested, trust me."


CC is an OC. She belongs to ShadowHachia on deviantart.