Tony frantically placed his coffee cup down as Steve stifled a sob, the only thing marking the impending tears.
"Oh shit!" he said worriedly as his hands fluttered uncertainly over the shaking super soldier. He felt like crap inside. He hadn't meant to bring up Peggy. Honest to god he didn't! Approximately ten minutes ago, Tony had come up for a break from his lab for a moment and met Steve in the kitchen. They'd been having a normal conversation and Tony had been marvelling over the fact that they'd gotten ten minutes in without ending up like two hissing cats and it'd just slipped out!
Now Steve was on the verge of a mental breakdown because Tony had accidentally managed to break down that indifferent barrier Steve always had against the memories in the past and anyone who knew Tony Stark knew that he was crap at comforting.
Where was Pepper when you need her? He thought desperately.
Finally, Tony placed a stiff hand on Steve's clothed back, feeling so horribly awkward.
"Ah- Sorry Steve," he tried to apologise, fighting against that flight or fight response in his head because he definitely didn't want to be the one comforting his friend tonight," That was a crappy thing for me to do. It just… slipped out."
Tony cringed at how pathetic he sounded. Shit, he wasn't supposed to be like this! He was Tony Stark, billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist, he could charm the pants of any living thing and was suave even in the face of leviathans and crazy demigods bent on destroying the world! But he can't comfort another human being to save his life, whispered that part of his head that Tony always hated (mainly because it was usually true) Shut it, he thought viciously.
Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around Steve because it was obvious that his meagre petting wasn't helping and Steve was just staring into space with that blank look in his eyes, even as his body was shaking and tears streamed silently from his eyes.
He jolted when he felt foreign arms around him.
"Tony?" he croaked hoarsely, and Tony felt that horrible feeling inside him swell up at the sound (And no, he refused to say it was guilt; Tony Stark never felt guilty about anything, goddamnit).
He took a deep breath, trying to fortify his nerves so he could comfort the broken Captain, when he suddenly found himself faceful of blonde curls and that simply unique scent of Steve (cinnamon and apples, who smells like that anymore?) as Steve sought comfort in the only person available at that moment. Which would have been good, if only it wasn't him.
Tony prayed no one was watching.
"Uh- Look, Steve? Um, it wasn't your fault. I mean, yea, you did crash that ship and, yea, you were the one who got frozen for a hundred years, but, uh-"
A keening wail interrupted his ramble, one that sounded like a wounded puppy. It was Steve.
Tony winced. Shit.
"Er, sorry, I hadn't meant that- I was just trying to say that you should, ah… stop beating yourself up over it. You had no control of the plane and your actions in the past. You had a choice to make, a risk to take, and you chose it. Hell, if I tried to imagine the moment, I'd think you didn't even hesitate to do it, even if it meant missing your date."
Yea, yea, he could work with this line of thought. Steve's cries started to abate as his words started to penetrate his, no doubt, morose bubble. Tony would have felt the moment was comical, if it wasn't so poignant.
He cleared his throat awkwardly before thinking, oh, what the hell, and throwing caution to the winds. He adjusted his and Steve's position so that Tony was in Steve's line of sight and that he was staring into those baby blue eyes Tony had started to begin calling a friend. He tightened the grip he had on Steve's shoulders so that he was anchored safely in the here and now, because Steve had to listen to this, and listen to it good and well.
Go on, you can do this.
"Listen Steve," he said seriously, any awkwardness dying from his tone as he stared fiercely into his team mate's eyes," I'm happy that you crashed the plane. You hear me? Yea, that's right. Even if it cost you your old life, your old love and your old relations. You know why?" –Tony took a deep breath because this was all or nothing and he hoped he'd never have to repeat this ever again- "Because it brought you to us. If, by some chance, Steve Rogers never existed in this time, this century, the Avengers wouldn't be the same team it was today. Hell, Steve, without your gentlemanly ways, that pig-headed stubbornness in every situation and that damned faith you have in this team that we'd always, always prevail and that we'd live to see another day, this wouldn't be called the Avengers at all. It'd be called some stupid name like the Justice League or something like that. Anyway, the point is, without Steve Rogers, there'd be one less person who managed to wriggle into my heart. I don't let people in very often, Rogers, more often than naught, I irritate them with my presence and scare off any other who don't have the balls to stay around when pushed to the limit. The only people who I've ever allowed into my life are Pepper, Rhodey, Happy and the Avengers, and even though I say you're a goody goody and make jabs at the way you were raised on a daily basis, I'd rather not not have you around, understand? Because, somehow, this dysfunctional group of heroes have somehow become my family and I am a very selfish person who doesn't like to let any part of my family go, whether they want to or not."
His impromptu speech ended as the last tears dried on Steve's face, and Tony suddenly felt raw. Like he'd been skinned and boiled all at once and left to dry. A rush of blood swarmed to his face the moment he realised those blue eyes were now staring into his soul and Steve was now looking at him like he'd just seen Tony for the first time.
Awkwardly, he swallowed, his throat unbearably dry, and made to retract his arms.
"Uh," he said weakly, as he averted his eyes to look everywhere but Steve. His legs itched to get away from that damned stare. "Yea, so, er, nice chat and all but I, ah, have… something to, er, check up on downstairs and, uh, you know, it's very delicate. Yea, might implode if I don't go right now. So yea, if I'd just be on my merry way-"
"-I feel that way too."
Tony paused from where he'd been reaching for his coffee, which had already gone cold long ago, as Steve finally spoke. His voice was soft and Tony turned to see him standing unsurely from the chair, although the resolution in his eyes counteracted his weak legs.
He tried for a casual air, not like someone who'd been caught like a deer in the headlights, and later he would deny that his hands were ever shaking
"Oh yea?"
"Sometimes," Steve corrected his previous statement. But his eyes were still trained on Tony and something told him that Steve had to get this out now if not he won't ever be able to in the future. He took step forward. "Like when you and Clint pull a stupid prank that ends up with you guys in trouble and Phil threatening to murder you in your sleep. Or when Thor ends up breaking another plate because he wanted another poptart and Natasha smacks him lightly on his shoulder with a towel she was using to dry the plates. Or when Bruce and you come up smelling like acids and metal but are smiling all the same." Steve took a deep breath," I'm not going to say that it's always easy living here, in the twentieth century, when all that I know are decades ago. But I'm saying that maybe I do have something to live for in this era, even if I hadn't really realised it before. You guys are my family and I too will also be damned if any of you get away because I'm too busy wallowing in my self-pity."
He fell silent then, and Tony took his chance to fill in the uncomfortable silence with a hesitant grin.
"So no more sitting in your room brooding for days over your sketchbook only for me to come up and find a disturbing picture drawn there?"
Steve returned with a slow grin.
"Yea."
"And no more falling skipping of meals to lament over your past on the balcony with a bottle of gin even when you say you don't drink?"
"Definitely."
"And no more breaking my boxing bags like they're planes of glass and you're the Hulk?"
A pause," I don't think I can control my strength that much."
Tony suddenly grinned, a genuine, honest to god grin that he only reserved for those closest to him. He easily threw an arm over the startled super soldier, finally feeling in depth the whole night as he settled back into his joking persona.
"As long as you're trying then," he conceded.
Who said Tony Stark couldn't comfort a soldier out of time?
This came to me in the middle of the night and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. In my opinion, stuttering and socially awkward Tony is the best and I thought I'd just write one story with him like that instead of his usual, confident self. Don't you think he's cute like that? Press that little button down there to tell me your opinion of my story and tell my which part you liked best! :)
-SiriuslyScarredforLife