As usual Tony couldn't sleep. He just lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. Every time he closed his eyes meant returning to the blackness of space that he had almost died in. As a result sleep was no longer an option, no matter how badly he craved it.
It was starting to affect his work. He knew it was only a matter of time before his friends, or even worse – Pepper would get suspicious. After all, it had been almost two weeks since Schwarma. Tony knew he was supposed to be moving on, but he also knew that he was human. There were some things an iron exterior couldn't protect you from. Trauma for instance.
He didn't think hiding his problems from his fellow Avengers would be hard, he barely saw them unless the world was about to end (again). However if Pepper figured out that something was wrong he wouldn't put it past her to hunt down his team mates to get him back on his feet. He had no doubt that she would launch a super-intervention.
Tony didn't want them to see how weak he was. He was meant to be a hero, but when he lay awake late on nights like these he couldn't feel further from it. He was terrified. Pepper's warm presence beside him was no longer soothing, it was a reminder. Tony couldn't afford to mess up. He had too much to lose.