CHAPTER ONE
He wasn't sure how long he had been staring at the wall, blankets abandoned on the floor and mind racing. He wasn't sure when the moisture on his skin had dried and left him cold to the touch. In fact, at this precise moment the only thing Tony was entirely sure of was that his heart was pounding so hard it made his chest ache.
This was the twenty third night in a row. He hadn't mean to keep count, but hours spent dreaming of the last night he had slept soundly eventually resulted in a painful awareness of just how long it had been.
He sat up, dragging an open palm down his face before looking around through squinted eyes for his comforter. Wrapping the fabric around himself and shuffling to the kitchen, he briefly wished he was an actual super human rather than just a man with an iron suit.
"Jarvis" He groaned, letting his weight fall onto one of the bar stools. "Time?"
"Good morning, Mr. Stark. The time is 0500 hours."
He let his head fall forward, hitting the counter top with a loud thud. "Too early for whiskey."
"I believe so, sir."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Jarvis, call Banner."
"Yes sir" There was a pause, and eventually a faint click. "Banner on the line."
"Put him on." Tony commanded, turning his head to one side so the house mics would pick his voice up clearly.
"Right on time" Bruce's soft voice filled the room.
"I like to be punctual." Tony said dryly, rocking his head back and forth on the hard surface below in an attempt to feel more alert.
Banner sighed, "No change, then?"
"No change." Tony echoed, sounding defeated.
"Some believe that reoccurring dreams are meant to lead you to a solution of a problem that exists in your waking life." Banner began calmly, the sound of shuffling papers in the background.
"The only problem in my waking life is that I'm always awake."
Nearly a week ago, the Avengers team had been convinced to reunite. A task force had been put into place after the alien invasion that nearly wiped out Manhattan. The public needed to be placated, and numerous surveys had shown that the 'superheroes' were in high regard. Tony was in no shape to be attending meetings, or doing anything at all for that matter. Sleep deprivation had left him clumsy, disoriented and looking a little rough around the edges. But, he wasn't about to let anyone know that. He would make it through the meetings, and deal with his problems when he got home. At least, that was the plan.
Except, Tony had stumbled into the first meeting about forty five minutes late. It is also noteable that he was not wearing shoes. He had tried to pass it off as some new age hippie movement. You know, to impress the ladies that do yoga in the park. It's entirely possible that this would have worked, had he not looked so utterly confused when Fury first breached the subject. As Tony stared at his bare feet, the seconds ticked by. By the time he had finally formulated his explaination, his teammates faces were ripe with concern. The rest of the conversation went predictably downhill, and Tony was assigned a mandatory medical evaluation.
"A dream that takes place in a desert can represent a lack of something in your life. It could be that you discovered a betrayal, or a loss… " Bruce continued on the overhead speakers.
"Mm." Tony hoped the noise would come across as thoughtful.
He had gone to his medical appointment and received a clean bill of health. Even his overworked liver seemed to be holding its own. And so the issue was forgotten. Well, until the next meeting..
Natasha had been assigned to lead a training session. There was concern, understandably, about the ability of some members to remain unemotional in the case of interrogation or torture. As Natasha went through a series of high stakes scenarios, Tony fell asleep and began to drool. On Clint's shoulder.
It was after this meeting, and the ensuing kerfuffle, that Bruce had pulled him aside. Too exhausted and delirious to keep his personal life in its usual iron cage, Tony had blurted out the truth. He told the doctor that he hadn't slept more than a couple of hours in weeks. That every night he awoke to the same horrors. That he had reached the end of his rope. Always the optimistic one – as if being the Hulk part time drained him of the ability to have negative feelings –Bruce had made it his personal goal to rid his friend of the dreams that plagued him.
Lately it felt like everything moved in slow motion. How long had it been since Bruce had stopped talking? Tony should say something.
"Oh."
"Think about what happened right before this started, twenty days ago." Bruce prompted.
"Twenty-three."
"Okay, twenty-three days ago. Did you lose anything? Money? A girl?"
Tony chuckled, "I don't lose girls unless I want to, Bruce."
Bruce chose not to validate the comment with a response.
"Okay, okay." Tony took a deep breath and tried to think. "The last night that I slept was the night after the shawarma. You don't think the shawarma did it, do you!? That would be seriously not cool. I'm thinking about buying that place, actually, you know. Give it a little make over, maybe some nice red walls and-"
"Tony." Bruce's voice sounded like it had been carefully restrained.
"Oh uh.. what was the question?"
"You've mentioned before that this all started after the attack.." Bruce said, returning to a thoughtful tone, "I believe that must be related somehow. However, you don't show any other signs of post-traumatic stress disorder.."
"Nope, got the all clear on that one during the medical exam. Boy, that was sure a blast. How do you keep your cool with them all up in your personal space like that? If ever there was a time to feel ragey.."
"Perhaps you lost something in the battle." Bruce redirected firmly.
"Nope, nothing except a rather nice Iron Man suit and my interest in space travel."
"It's possible that it could be a symbolic loss." Bruce suggested, "Tell me again about the dream."
"Same deal." Tony lifted himself up on his elbows, weaving his fingers into his hair. "Standing alone in the desert. Nothing happens for a long time, but I feel like shit. Dust storm, being sucked into sand pit of doom. Yadda yadda."
"A hole can represent a loss of control, or a freedom from being in control. You must surrender yourself to the fate of falling. Is there something in your life that you feel you want to do, but you must hold back?" Bruce pressed on. It seemed dream interpretation was the topic of the day.
"Holding back." Tony repeated back to his friend. "Yup. Sounds like me."
Bruce let out a long breath, "You are going to have to open up to me if you want to figure this out."
"I thought you were a doctor, not a therapist."
"I'm a concerned party."
"Is there a PhD in that?" Tony immediately regretted the comment. Letting people help him didn't exactly come naturally.
"I will talk to you tomorrow." Bruce said simply. He seemed to have a pretty good sense of when they were about to hit the proverbial brick wall for the day. "Give some thought to what we talked about."
"On it."
"Banner is off the line." Jarvis informed.