Chapter 1

Wasting Away

Steve never liked hospitals, he found them down right depressing for the most part. There was something about being in a contained space with dead( and dying) people that left a creepy sense of crawling on his skin. He did not enjoy the sight of sick children having to walk with clunky IV drips, connected to them as they followed the nurses. He especially hated the too well known scream of agony that reverberated down the halls, and seem to follow him everywhere he went. Yet at the moment, none of those ticks and knocks moved him. In fact, he had completely forgotten the world outside of the current hospital room he was in.

His eyes were fixed on the clump of blankets that laid before him, rhythmically raising and falling with the assurance of breaths following suit. Steve's eyes flitted shut for a moment as he eased deeper into the visitor's couch. The silence of the room was eerily disturbing due to the fact that it only provoked his thoughts as to why Tony did what he did. Steve opened his eyes again, his heart palpitating with the fear that he may have kept his eyes closed for too long. He glanced at Tony again, and checked for signs of breathing. As the blanket rose again with a sleepy sigh released from beneath it, Steve breathed out shakily.

The light that came in from the hall suddenly became obstructed, blotches and figures took the shape of an abstract shadow against the room wall. Steve turned to look to the door, only to find Natasha and Bruce standing at the entrance. "You're still here Steve? We thought you went home." Natasha b-lined over to Steve's side and sat in the chair closest to the visitor's couch. Reaching out, she grabbed Steve's phone from the arm of the couch. "Clint said he was trying to call you to see if you needed a ride home, but you didn't answer, so he thought you left by now." Bruce walked over, less rushed than his red-haired classmate, and sat beside Steve on the couch. "Have you been here all afternoon?" Steve looked at both his friends, he saw the desperate concern for him in their faces—even if they both had completely different ways of expressing it.

"I went home for a while, but when I called the hospital and asked who was with Tony, the nurse said no one had checked in. So I rode my bike back." Steve said.

"You have to go home and eat something. Tony won't go anywhere Steve." Bruce laid a hand on Steve's back and smiled sadly at his friend. In situations like these, Bruce never really knew what to say, and Steve knew it. He watched as Bruce adjusted his glasses nervously like he always does when trying to mediate a situation.

"There's no need to stay here all day. You can leave Tony alone for a while and go do stuff." Natasha sat further back into her seat glancing over at Tony.

"Isn't that what we did last time? Look how well that turned out." Silence. Tense, awkward silence filled the room and trapped itself in the lungs of the three adolescents. Steve knew he shouldn't have said that, yet now that it was out, he felt angered by the whole thing. "Steve, we couldn't have known Tony was going to—no one could have seen this coming. He was fine. He showed no signs of—" Natasha ceased as Steve stood abruptly and walked to the other side of the room. Fist in his hair, he looked at his friends with heated eyes as sad as an abandoned child's. "What do you mean?! His parents pass away and two months later he wants to throw a massive 'house party', and act as if nothing happened?!" Steve's voice rose slightly, though he would not have noticed if Bruce had not flinched and stared down at the floor, adjusting his glasses once again.

No one said anything for several minutes, and the air became more tense with each passing moment. "He wanted someone to be with him. He wanted company. Tony wanted someone to be with him so he wouldn't have to stay alone in that house of his anymore. Don't you guys see? When we all bailed out of the party mid-way, he...he felt abandoned. Again. It's our fault! We could have been there with him! " The room became a blur of blues and whites as Steve's vision became clouded by the cluster of tears that had formed in his eyes. "Visiting hours will be over shortly, Hun. You and your friends can come back tomorrow." One of the nurses poked her head into the room and just as quickly was down the hall to the next room. Standing quickly, Natasha tossed Steve's phone back on the couch and hurried out. "Natasha wait!" Bruce stood and ran after her. Yet before he could bolt down the hall for her, he turned to look at Steve who was wiping his eyes with his sweater sleeve. "Steve, I know you're worried, but we can't take the blame for this. We couldn't have known he was going to try to do this." Steve clenched his fist tightly and stared back at Bruce. "If we had been there—"

"IF we had been there, but we weren't. Steve you can't think about what we could have done. Right now we can only think about what we're going to do when Tony is released." Bruce purses his lip and broke away from the door to chase after Natasha. Steve stood in the room in silence, looking over at Tony one more time, he grabbed his book bag and helmet and headed out.

The next day came in a blur of chopped moments. Steve did not remember waking up or having gotten dressed. He only remembered riding his bike to school and passing by the entrance of the hospital. He thought about going to check on Tony, though he remembered that visiting hours did not begin until 10 am, and it was only 7:56am. When he got to school, he did not remember taking his bike to the bike rack, only walking up the stairs to the school building and meeting eyes with Clint and Natasha, who were sitting on the front steps talking with some other students. He made his way through the front door and down the hall in time to get to History, and from there on his mind wandered in every class from first period and on. Once lunch rolled around Steve found himself becoming very anxious. Normally he sat with his friends at their table (the one to the far right corner of the cafeteria, by the vending machines and exit), yet he did know whether his friends would all be there or not. Before he could pull out his phone to text Thor about lunch arrangements, the loudspeaker beeped indicating an announcement. "Can the following students please report to Principal Fury's office? Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Virginia Potts, and James Rhodes. I repeat can those following students report to principal Fury's office?" Steve's chest tightened up. He knew it had to do something with Tony's hospitalization. It was only about time that the school got a hold of the situation. He put his phone away and walked to the office.

Once there, Steve met the gaze of all of his friends. The small benches outside of the office were cramped already, Thor took up half an entire seat alone. "Why were we called ?" Pepper piped up as Vice Principal Hill walked through the office doors. "Principal Fury learned about your friend Anthony and wanted to ask you all some questions." She said as she sat down at her desk.

The door to the office opened and out came Fury, hands behind his back, with a stern gaze. "Who would like to go first?" He said. The children all stayed quiet. "Very well, I'll pick— ." Natasha stood and disappeared behind the mahogany door. "What am I going to say ?"Thor said with an obvious panic in his deep voice. "I was there that night—I'm the one who found Tony, what do I say if he asks about it?" Clint turned to Thor. "Calm down man, you just tell him the truth."

The truth? What was the truth? They had been in the dark about the whole thing for several days now about Tony's reason. Thor brought his hand to his face nervously. Just as quickly as she had gone in, Natasha came out, but this time her eyes had darkened over. Her eyeliner was slightly smeared from tear stained sleeves that dragged the charcoal color down to her cheek bones. "Rogers, you're next." In the office, Steve looked around at the mementos Fury had collected over the years. Taxidermy crows, antique clocks, pretty outdated writing utensils and bookshelf—yep, it all screamed Fury. "Tell me Steve, how are you feeling?" Fury said folding his hands as he sat. "I'm okay sir." "Are you? Because told me you were pretty shaken about what happened to Stark." Steve's cheek twitched. "Stark" wasn't Tony's name, it was just a title that he had the burden to owning, and yet even in a moment like so, Fury could not find it in him to show some compassion by calling Tony by his first name. "Tell me, what happened the night he was found." Fury leaned forward a bit, his shadow loomed over Steve as the afternoon sun disappeared behind the Principal. "W-well...Tony was throwing a party, just a get together. He has planned it out of the blue so I couldn't make it due to other stuff." Steve looked as Fury nodded. "So I called and told him, and he seemed pretty peeved about it, but I assumed that it would be fine. On a chat that my friends and I have, they all said that they couldn't make it or had to leave early. So mid way through the party, we had all left. Thor noticed he left his jacket and went back...when he got back and went to Tony's room, which is where we always leave our stuff, he found him...passed out on the floor." There was a break in Steve's voice, his larynx felt knotted as his eyes swelled over. "Thor called Jarvis, and then the ambulance. He—he looked for what ever tony had used, and he saw an emptied bottle of Ibuprofen and Motrims..." The last strand if composure broke there. Steve's eyes dripped hot tears onto his lap, Fury pulled a box of tissues from his desk drawer and handed it to Steve. "Was Stark acting strange previous to this? Any odd behavior or tell tale sign that could have—" "Sir, if I had seen this coming, I would have stopped it. He was perfectly fine...at least I thought so." Fury breathed out heavily, nodding he placed his hands on his lap as he sat up straight once again. "Thank you for your time , you're free to go to lunch."

A numb feeling came over Steve, he felt as though he had just opened a tightly sealed jar, and now there was nothing else to do but wait for any emotion to rush back in. He made his way outside without even looking at his friends. Instead of going to the cafeteria Steve ghosted into his next period class and sat there waiting. The blur from the morning had once again reappeared and all Steve could focus on was going to see Tony as soon as school let out. He even considered leaving during his last period gym class. The desperation he felt had never been so intense. Though it was easy for anyone to see why.

Steve and Tony had been friends since middle school, the two were unbreakable. They had bonded over a pack of band aids and bloodied nose when Tony had stepped in to protect Steve.