Inspired by the lyrics from the song 'One October Song' By Nico Stai. The italic sentence at the start are lyrics from the song along with the italiced sentence at the end that Tony says.
Canon Divergence, Depressed Tony, PTSD.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers or Marvel.
Cross Posted on my AO3.
Guys, I got another dog! She's so cute and small and warm and adorable except she kept everyone up all night because she's a pest. I now have six dogs...yay!
'You know that thing, That you say you sometimes dream of, Well I think it's happening to me.'
He knew something was wrong. Deep inside something just wasn't right. Something was broken. He needed help. He didn't want help though. Some part of him believed that he deserved this. That he deserved to suffer for all the suffering he caused. There are days he just doesn't want to get out of bed, not because he wants more sleep -no he doesn't even get to sleep- but because he's too exhausted to move. Too exhausted to throw on his mask and act like everything is alright when really…nothing is.
He thinks about dying. He stares at his reflection and looks at the blue glowing light. He thinks about how easily he could just pull it out and die a painful death. That's what he deserves is it not? But he doesn't want to die…not really. He wants to live. To be free. To be rid of this emptiness. This blankness. This numbing pain settled around his heart.
He's forgotten -or rather never truly known how it feels to wake up and love yourself. To stare into a mirror and not want to throw up. To not have to constantly wonder if you'll ever have a real and true friend that doesn't want your money (Rhodey doesn't count and he's never really there). He wants to know how it feels to be yourself and not a facade you wear every single minute of every single day.
—LINE BREAK—
Looking out at the group of five sitting on the couches in the communal living room, he sighed quietly, they all fit well together and yet here he stood in the doorframe unnoticed. He wonders if he should just open his mouth and talk to them about his thoughts and feelings. He wants to speak but his voice won't work. They're his friends so why shouldn't he talk to them? But what's to say they are his friends? What's to say they want to listen to him talk about all the shit going on in his head? Nothing. That's what.
—LINE BREAK—
He and Bruce are sitting together taking a small break from whatever science-related thing they were working on. Now was the perfect opportunity.
"Bruce…can I…can I talk to you about personal stuff?" The older scientist looked slightly surprised but he finished wiping his glasses and placed them back on his face,
"Of course you can Tony." And thus everything Tony had kept inside just came out like a dam had burst open. He spoke of his father and his continuous failures at making the older Stark proud, of his reaction when his parents died, of the kidnapping, the arc reactor and torture, his escape into the desert, the betrayal of Obadiah Stane and the way the man ripped the reactor out along with their final fight, of the additional nightmares that have piled on top of his others due to the wormhole. He told Bruce how he didn't know what to do anymore and how things were so difficult, just the effort it took for him to wake up in the morning. He paused to take a breather and heard a quiet snore. Turning to look at his friend and science bro, he noticed the man was asleep. Another piece of his broken and cracked heart fell off. Standing quietly, Tony left the room and called it a day. He went straight to his bedroom and curled up in his bed. Why did he even bother?
"Am I selfish that I want people to notice and help me, JARVIS? Is it bad that I need someone to notice because I just don't know how to get help? But, 'Stark men are made of iron' after all, they can't show weakness." He whispered brokenly to his AI, who wanted nothing more than to protect his creator from everything, but one could not easily protect someone from their own mind.
—LINE BREAK—
People mistake his attitude for arrogance when really it not only is a mask to protect him, but it's also because he doesn't know how to let his walls down easily. Steve, of course, came to an instant conclusion that Tony's nothing more than an arrogant, selfish and vain man. Nothing could sway the Super Soldier's opinion.
Tony always found it amusing how two spies could be so blind. Hawkeye was known for his incredible sight, yet he could not see through the cracks in Tony's masks. Then there was Black Widow. She spied on him for several months and she never once saw through the facade. He was dying. He didn't care anymore. Yet at the same time, he did. But she saw what she expected and wanted to see. Who had ever heard of spies being blind?
Then there was Thor, truth be told Tony didn't expect much out of the God. But…a part of him wanted and expected Thor to see the resemblance that he shared with Loki. He…Tony wanted Thor to see and maybe try to help him. But, of course, that was far too selfish of Tony Stark.
Bruce. Well, Tony expected more from him. For the man to fall asleep whilst Tony was finally opening up…it stung a lot.
—LINE BREAK—
Sometimes he thinks of leaving. Of packing a bag and just giving the world a big 'fuck you'. But he doesn't. He can't. He knows how much chaos his sudden disappearance would cause. There would be panic. Times like these he wishes he was a nobody. A nobody that could leave and start over. He did once. Or at least he tried. At age sixteen he was already depressed and had packed a bag one night. He ran as far as he could go. He'd let his feet guide him. He ended up at the Rhodes' household. Rhodey's mother, who all but adopted him, took one look at the young boy that Christmas (what better time to go than when everyone would be too busy to notice him with their galas?) and brought him inside to the warm and welcoming home, hugging him as she gently pushed him into the living room where Rhodey wandered over to the young boy and with no questions, picked him up, wrapped him in a blanket and placed him on the couch by his side, an arm protectively placed over his shoulders. Unfortunately, he did have to return to his own house.
As thoughts ran through his mind, he sat huddled in the corner of his room, wrapped in a blanket as he watched the world below him from his window.
—LINE BREAK—
Bruce found him the next day as the group wandered about the kitchen making coffee/tea and breakfast. Tony doesn't eat. He just sits there quietly and drinks his coffee.
"Tony, I'm sorry for falling asleep I -" Plastering a smile over his face,
"Not to worry, Brucie. Wasn't anything important anyway." And that was that. Conversation over. Tony could barely cover the sad emotion that flitted through his eyes at the dismissal. Clearly, Bruce didn't care. Nor did anyone else as they didn't seem the least bit curious.
—LINE BREAK—
"You need to destroy what destroys you, Stark." He heard Natasha mutter to him once as she noticed his vacant look, he let his eyes meet hers,
"What if that means destroying myself?" He walked away not bothering to see her reaction, the likelihood that she heard him was slim and the likelihood of her acting on it had she heard? Even slimmer.
—LINE BREAK—
"Tony, would you like to talk about how you're feeling? Bruce said you went to him a bit ago and maybe you should speak with him again." And here Tony thought Steve was offering, but no, just passing him off to another person. Proof that Steve Rogers could care less.
"I'm fine. Wouldn't want to make him fall asleep again. Besides, Captain, Bruce isn't that kind of doctor." He snarked and he knew he was being rude, especially when he saw the others look at him, Bruce looked hurt but Tony didn't care, it was the truth after all.
—LINE BREAK—
In the end, all it took was for one mistake during a battle. Tony ended up injured and in the hospital. The others, of course, visited him. He did not look good and that wasn't just the injuries he'd received in the fight. He looked ten years older and yet ten years younger all at the same time. He'd curled up into a small and vulnerable position. His face pale and drawn. Eyes red and bags hanging beneath. He knew they were there but he didn't acknowledge them even as he spoke.
"I'm afraid to die and yet I'm afraid to live. From the age of eight, I have been depressed. Add on PTSD and a shit ton of suffering and well, it's Hell up here." With a shaky hand, he tapped the side of his forehead,
"Tony, why didn't you tell anyone?"
"I tried." A low chuckle bubbled in his throat, "I tried. But oh no, you shouldn't really speak about it."
—LINE BREAK—
"If I asked you to name all the things that you love, how long would it take for you to name yourself?" His therapist asked and Tony chuckled,
"How long have you got?"
—LINE BREAK—
"How you doing, Tony." He glanced across to his science bro who was working diligently by his side, taking a deep breath,
"Good. I feel good and free Brucie. I'm getting there."
"That's great." They smiled at each other, giving a true and gentle smile before continuing their work.
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