It's Time

"Tony? Are you up here?" Someone asked loudly through the door.

Tony hesitated. "Bruce?" He ventured cautiously.

"It's Steve." The voice said. "Can I come in, please?"

Tony nodded absently, and JARVIS, forever paying attention, allowed the doors to open. He took a final swig from the bottle in his hand, before discarding to the pile that had grown fairly large over the past few hours. He reached out blindly for another, but Steve grabbed his arm.

"I think you've had enough, Tony."

Steve had heard stories of Tony's alcoholism, but he had never witnessed it first-hand. The general consensus was that it was a phase that had passed, mainly thanks to Dr Banner, but apparently that was not the case. Tony looked terrible. It couldn't be sugar coated- his hair was sticking up in all directions, his usually meticulously groomed goatee had run amok and there was evidence of vomit on his shirt. Steve grimaced. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Steve did the best he could to get Tony to shower and change into some fresh clothes, and he looked a lot better when he re-emerged. "What are you doing here?" He whispered hoarsely.

"Bruce came to see me. He said you guys had a fight." Steve explained, handing Tony a large glass of water and instructed him to drink it. "He was… Not at all well. Stressed. I told him to get away."

Tony glared at Steve. "You told him to leave me?" He said blankly.

"He was driving himself crazy because he couldn't help you. He's too vulnerable to stay with you when you're like this."

Tony went to put the empty glass on the table next to him, but it slipped and smashed. Tony stared at it in shock, and began to weep. Steve didn't know what to do. Tony just sat there silently, tears rolling down his cheeks. Steve stood up to find something to clean up the mess with, but Tony grabbed the back of his shirt to stop him.

"Steve…" He croaked pathetically. "I'm sorry."

Steve frowned in confusion. "Don't be stupid, Tony, I can clean it up."

More tears flowed. "No!" He protested. "I'm sorry. For this." He waved his hands at Steve randomly. "You're here and I hate you and it's all my fault."

"Tony, you aren't making any sense."

Tony looked up at Steve with pleading eyes. "I hate you, Steve. I hate you so fucking much. Please don't leave me here, please!"

Steve wondered how he'd got himself into this situation. He sat back down, carefully avoiding the shattered glass that had cascaded in all directions. "I'm not going anywhere, okay, Tony? I'll stay here all night if you want me to."

"Stay." He repeated firmly. "I need to… I have to tell you… Steve, I hate you."

"I gathered." Steve said dryly. He wasn't exactly sure how much of this was the alcohol talking, but he knew that Tony didn't open up to many people. No-one really knew what Tony Stark thought of them. It was clear to Steve that Tony had something he needed to get off his chest, and he wasn't going to leave him before he had a chance to say it.

"When I was a kid, Howard… Howard hated me. He didn't want me. He wanted y-you." Tony said, poking Steve in the chest on the final word. "I was always... I was never as good as Steve Rogers. However much I tried to impress Howard, it wasn't good enough." He said, a fresh wave of tears streaming down his face. "He never loved me. He loved you and I hate you and I hate him."

Steve didn't know what to say.

"I need a drink!" Tony slurred tearfully. "Steve, please!"

He shook his head. "Tony, you've drank enough." He repeated. He took a deep breath, and said, "It's only natural for you to hate me, Tony. You didn't get a father. But that was my fault, not yours."

"When I met you, I needed to hate you." Tony ignored what Steve had said and marched on. "I was determined to hate you. You're the only link I have to my father. You're all I have left of him. I hate him and I hate you and I hate Nick Fury and I hate the Avengers and-"

"For what it's worth, you weren't what I was expecting either." Steve cut in, taking a rare opportunity to interrupt Tony's tirade. "I missed Howard. He was a good person, Tony. I know you don't want to hear this, but he was doing what he thought was best. He was trying to help us win the war. How is that different from you and me? And I met you, and I don't know what I was expecting."

"We're different. Like you said, he was a good person."

"That's not what I meant, Tony."

"But he wasn't a good person, Steve! He ruined your life! You might not see it like that, but he did. All your friends, that chick you were soft on-"

"Peggy." A lump appeared in Steve's throat.

"They're dead, Steve! And you should have died with them. You should have lived a long, normal life with them, and then died a normal, natural death with them. You were roped into the damn war, and-"

"How do you know so much about me?" Steve choked, a little ashamed to find his own eyes full of tears too.

"He used to tell me. Every day, he'd remind me of how amazing Captain fucking America was. How he wished I was more like you. It was my equivalent to a bedtime story. Who needs fairy tales when you have Steve fucking Rogers?" Tony screamed. "You're out of your time, Cap. Seventy years out of your time."

"You can't blame yourself, for any of this. Tony, for god's sake, you can't blame yourself for your father's actions. It's not your fault."

"Then whose fault is it?" Tony snapped.

"It's not anyone's fault." Steve said, trying to keep calm. "It just is as it is. Maybe it's not perfect, but we can't change it. And you can't drink yourself stupid over it, Tony. It won't make anything better."

"It makes me feel better." Tony argued.

"No. It makes you feel nothing. And nothing isn't better."

"It is for me."

There was a pause, and Steve didn't know what to think any more.

"What about Bruce?" Tony said suddenly. "It wasn't just you Howard fucked over. Howard might have helped you become taller and less douche-y looking, and hey, maybe that helped you in life, who knows? But Bruce..." He trailed off sadly.

"Tony Stark!" Steve screamed. "Shut up and listen to me right now. What happened to Bruce was not your fault. What happened to me was not your fault. Stop trying to take responsibility for your father's actions. You are not the same person."

"It doesn't matter! Just look at the fucking Avengers, Steve! You spotting a link yet? The whole initiative has had his name scrawled all over it, way before Fury arrived. He's fucked over so many lives. And who's left to take responsibility, huh? Me." There was no presence of tears now, only a sense of what was almost defiance, as if Tony was daring Steve to disagree with him.

"Tony, you've had too much to drink- you're not thinking straight." Steve said diplomatically. "How about we both get some sleep, and we'll talk again in the morning, okay?"

Tony nodded, and Steve led him to his room. "I'm going to sleep here tonight. I don't want you choking on your own vomit and killing yourself, okay? That would be a quite undignified end for one as brilliant as you."

"Thanks, Steve." Tony muttered.

"Any time."

AN: Okay let's just get this straight right now. Tony and Steve in this fic are not in a relationship, and if I continued this, which I'm not, they would not end up in a relationship. If you think they would be cute together or w/e, that's cool. I don't. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this. Reviews are awesomesauce.