Progress

Warnings: The story is very vague about it, but Tony has depression in this.

Beta: webbswoman
Word count: 714 words

Summary: Rhodey's surprised when Tony drinks soda instead of scotch.

"The soda's for me," Tony told him.

Rhodey shot him an incredulous look which the billionaire avoided. The beer was Rhodey's, of course, his favorite brand and all. But he left it where it was and took the bottle of soda for both of them to drink from. It was a new, trendy, organic brand Rhodey had seen ads for all over the place; Tony Stark's tower was the last place he'd expected to find it, however.

"What's going on?" He asked, setting two glasses down on the table in front of the couch and filling them. Tony immediately started chucking his down like it was scotch.

"I've been thinking," Tony began when his glass was empty.

"'bout what?"

"Getting back on the meds."

Rhodey's chest suddenly felt tight. Relief and anxiety battled inside him for the upper hand.

"You'll have to give up the alcohol." So that was why Tony was suddenly drinking soda instead of whiskies. If he had chosen one of his disgustingly-colored smoothies instead, Rhodey wouldn't even have noticed.

"Yeah." He didn't sound happy.

"Are you doing okay?" Rhodey hesitantly asked. "If you need me, I can ask for leave and stay around for a while."

Tony smiled. "I live in a house full of superheroes," he replied, as if this was a guarantee for his mental health and personal safety.

"Do they know?"

"No, of course not. Well, Natasha might; I wonder sometimes."

The look Rhodey gave him in return plainly said: See? That's why you need me.

"I'll be fine," Tony assured him. He sounded no different than from the many other times he had claimed the same; too often it had been a blatant lie.

"Pepper doesn't know either, does she?"

"No." He shrugged. "She'll find out soon enough. If I want the meds, I'll need to see someone regularly again."

"I might know an address here in New York," Rhodey offered. He had some stowed away of people in New York and Malibu, just in case.

"Give it to Jarvis," Tony replied. It was much of an acknowledgment as he'd give.

Rhodey studied his friend. At first glance, he looked as he always did. But Rhodey was used to taking a closer look. Tony's fingers were tapping some unknown rhythm on the arm of his chair until he clenched his fists to hide it. He was nervous, but he didn't look as if he was about to have a breakdown. Whether Rhodey would even have been able to tell was another matter. He hadn't known last time either.

"Is it because of the Avengers?" He asked.

Tony shrugged. "I guess. It's… nice."

For the other man to admit as much, he had to have really taken a liking to the initiative.

"They might still kick me off the team for my personality." He smirked. "But at least it won't be because I don't reply to a call."

"I thought you didn't get that bad anymore," Rhodey protested.

"Be realistic, Rhodey. Swapping pills for alcohol isn't actually helpful on a bad day. I simply didn't tell you about it."

"You should have."

He wanted to hit himself. He had been blind because he had so desperately wanted to believe that Tony was doing better. He'd deluded himself.

"Don't get me wrong: it's never been as bad again as when we were in school. But it hasn't been pretty either. I'd tell Pepper I was hungover and either she'd make me get up anyway or she'd cancel my appointments. Business as usual, really."

Rhodey wants to say so many things to that, like why Tony couldn't have accepted help from him at least, but he doesn't want to derail the "I'm-trying-to-get-better" train Tony is currently riding on.

"I'm glad you're trying again," he says instead.

Mentally, he's shifting through his calendar and thinking about how he could shuffle his appointments around to be able to stay in New York or at least Washington D.C. for a while. He can tell Tony is still painfully uncertain about it.

"I hope it's worth it," Tony mutters in a low voice to himself, probably not even realizing that he had said it out loud.

Rhodey didn't say anything, squeezing Tony's shoulder encouragingly instead and hoping that the gesture spoke for itself.