Just a Bruce and Steve one-shot. This isn't my first Avengers fic, but it's the first one I've ever published. Steve is not my forte, so I apologize if he's OOC. It should probably be K+, but I'm rating it T because I'm paranoid.
Disclaimer: My life goal is to own the Avengers. It's not not coming along too well...
Of Nightmares, Tea, and Ice Cream
It was another night of tossing and turning. Of nightmares and ghosts that wouldn't leave him alone. Blue bed sheets tangled around his legs as he struggled, cold sweat soaking through his old grey T-shirt.
"Why did you leave us?"
He was sorry. So sorry. He had only done what he'd needed to, and no good deed goes unpunished.
Steve was surrounded by darkness. The only discernable thing was Bucky's broken body. Blood gushed from his cracked skull, and his limbs bent at odd angles. He tried desperately to run to him. To stop the bleeding and check for a pulse. But even with all of his strength, he couldn't move. Brawn is no match for the horrors of one's own mind.
He called out the fallen soldier's name as the darkness slowly crept up the body and left Steve alone once again.
Suddenly Peggy was in his arms, softly caressing his face and whispering about a date that never was.
Steve leaned into her touch as he savored the feeling of her warm hand against his cheek. His hand twisted into her hair, breathing in her scent. The smell of her perfume began to fade, as did the feeling of her body pressed against his. Steve looked down at the woman in his arms. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she faded into a mere apparition.
He struggled to hold onto her in vain. Even after she disappeared he continued to grab at open air.
Steve twisted in his dream, trying to find Peggy in the dark. She couldn't have disappeared. She had to be somewhere in the shadows. Twisting again, he fell off of his bed with a thud, startling him awake.
He struggled with the sheets still tangled about his legs, panicking and searching, before finally getting his bearings.
Stark Tower. He was in his room in Stark Tower. In the twenty first century.
"Deep breath, Rogers. In and out. In and out. It was just a dream."
Eventually his heart rate slowed down. He pulled the blanket completely off of himself and stood slowly, deliberating on what to do now. He wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep anytime soon. Not after that dream.
A loud grumbling from his stomach alerted the super soldier to how hungry he was.
"Damn metabolism." He sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Might as well get something to eat…"
The Tower was quiet as he made his way to the kitchen. Everyone was most likely sleeping. Though Steve was convinced Barton and Natasha didn't sleep. And if they did, it was with their eyes open.
The lights were all off, but he knew his way around pretty well now and located the kitchen with little trouble.
"Hello?"
Steve jumped, looking around the dark kitchen wildly.
"Steve?"
"Doctor Banner." He suppressed a sigh of relief. What Steve now recognized as the dark form of the physicist was sitting on a bar stool.
"JARVIS, turn on the light please?"
The AI responded automatically, and Steve had to squint as his eyes readjusted to the light.
"You can call me Bruce, you know." The doctor commented idly. He stared at Steve as he took a sip of something from the brown mug in his hand.
Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he sighed. "Sorry. Old habits are hard to break."
"It's nothing to apologize for…um, so what brings you to the kitchen at," he paused to look down at his watch. "Three a.m.?"
Part of him wanted to tell the truth. He felt like Bruce might understand. Glancing at the dark circles under the doctor's eyes and his ridiculously crazy bed-head, Steve knew something similar must have happened to him. However, he decided against it. If Bruce was having nightmares too, the last thing he needed was to hear about Steve's problems.
"Couldn't sleep." He shrugged, dragging his feet to the refrigerator and rummaging around.
"Mm. I can sympathize. Do you want some tea? The kettle's probably still hot…"
Grabbing some leftover take out, Steve walked back over to the counter and shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm fine." He grabbed a fork before sitting down next to Bruce and tucking into his food.
"You sure? It's great for calming people down, especially after nightmares."
The soldier's head snapped up, mouth full of food. Bruce was eyeing him knowingly with a small, sympathetic smile.
He swallowed quickly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Looking down at his food, he cleared his throat. "Is it that easy to tell?"
"Everyone in this tower has nightmares, Steve. Some of us have just learned to hide it better." Bruce gave a small shrug. "You can hardly tell at all with Natasha. But the morning after a bad night, she doesn't nod at Clint to say 'good morning', and when she thinks no one's looking, she slips some vodka in her coffee."
Steve glanced at him sidelong, resting his face in a hand. "So what makes you think tonight was a bad night for me? What's my tell?"
"Honestly? Intuition. Why else would you be up at this ungodly hour? Usually though, you walk more stiffly than normal and head straight for the gym as soon as you wake up."
The younger man nodded in a short, jerking motion. "Sounds about right."
Bruce paused, fiddling with the handle of his cup. "What was it about?"
Steve raised an eyebrow, fork hovering in mid air. "Hm?"
"The nightmare." Bruce asked, setting down his tea with a muffled clatter.
"People I miss." He muttered softly. "People I failed."
The physicist nodded in understanding. Similar demons plagued him as well. He could empathize with what Steve was feeling on a basic level, at the very least. He ran a hand through his graying hair as he stared at the far wall, trying to keep his thoughts from drifting to his own nightmares.
"I know it doesn't really mean anything, but I'm sorry."
Steve shook his head, eyes still downcast. "I don't belong here. In the future, I mean."
"I don't think any of the Avengers belong. That's why we're here…we have nothing to lose."
"But I did!" Steve was surprised by the volume of his own voice, and lowered it significantly for fear of waking the others up. "I used to. It's frightening, you know? Losing everything you knew and everyone you loved in a blink of an eye."
"Oh I understand. Believe me." Bruce paused, wondering if it was his place to ask any more questions.
"You did just say you have nothing to lose, didn't you, Banner?"
Well, yes. He did. But he was used to treading carefully to keep from provoking others, and in turn having them provoke the Other Guy. Steve knew better, though. And as much as Bruce was sure he'd deny it, Steve seemed to want to get these things off of his chest.
"Was it a woman?"
"Yes…and a friend." He took a shuddering breath, clearing his throat once again. "He died in battle. I couldn't save him."
"That's not your fault, you know."
He simply nodded, obviously still blaming himself.
"Steve, listen to me. You can live your life stuck in the past, blaming yourself for things that's aren't your fault-"
"But how do you know they aren't my fault?" He interrupted, standing abruptly. He began to pace, replaying past situations over and over again in his head. "I could have done something! I'm Captain God Damn America! I should have been able to figure it out! I…" Steve stopped, choking down the emotion welling up in his throat and eyes. Cradling his head in his hands, he muttered "I only ever wanted to protect people. To do my part. What good am I if I couldn't keep the people I care about happy and safe?"
Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was way passed his comfort zone now. How was he supposed to give Steve advice on this?
"There's a flaw," He began carefully, keeping his eyes on the super soldier to gauge his reaction. "In your logic."
Steve didn't say anything, so he continued. "It doesn't matter how strong you are, Steve. You can't protect everyone. No one can. You said you want to do your part. You've done that, haven't you? You've tried your best and that's what matters."
"I wish I could accept that."
"You'll have to forgive yourself eventually."
Logically, Steve knew Bruce was right. That didn't make forgiving himself any easier, and as hard as he tried to accept that he'd done everything he possibly could to save Bucky, to try and think up a way to land that blasted ship so he could see Peggy again, he just couldn't.
"I hope you're right. Because I don't know how much longer I can do this."
Bruce winced, his own guilt (even fresher in his mind than usual due to his earlier nightmare) making itself known. "It's, uh, not something I'd recommend."
Steve took a deep breath and slowly sat back down on his stool, feeling significantly better now. Just talking about what was bothering him made his shoulders less weighed down with guilt.
Bruce hardly registered Steve's presence, staring down at the countertop. He was breathing deeply in an attempt to control the guilt and anger that was steadily rising. The last thing he needed was for the Other Guy to make an appearance right now.
"Bruce?" Steve asked tentatively. He noticed the drawn look on the physicists face, and his controlled breathing. His posture was rigid, and he was gripping the counter so hard his knuckles were turning white.
Relaxing , though only slightly, Bruce opened his eyes and looked at Steve. "Hm?"
"Are you ok?"
Bruce grinned wryly. "Depends on your definition. According to most people, I don't think I ever qualify as 'ok'."
"According to most people, I don't think any of the Avengers qualify. That's why we're here, right? Because we've got nothing to lose?" Steve asked, parroting back what Bruce had told him a few minutes earlier. Softly he added, "And you know what I mean."
Bruce couldn't help but crack a small smile, a real one this time, and began awkwardly fiddling with his mug again. "Just a nightmare." He answered lowly, the smile gone now. As much as he tried to convince himself that those words were the truth, he knew they were nothing more than a lie he desperately wanted, needed, to believe.
"We both know it's never just a nightmare." Steve shot back. Bruce had been there for him, now it was his turn to try and return the favor. "I'll listen if you want to talk."
He chuckled. "I never was good with words. Words are hard because you can do a lot of damage with them. I used to think equations were different. I thought I was good at working them into something helpful. Funny how it was science that turned out to be more destructive, huh?"
"You're talking about the Hu-the Other Guy?" Steve asked softly.
He took a sip of his cooling tea. "Mhm."
"Was that what your nightmare was about?"
"It was a memory." Bruce cleared his throat, rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his free hand. He didn't want to talk about it. Not really. The last person he'd talked with like this was Betty, and that hadn't been until after few years of knowing her. But Steve had opened up to him. Didn't he owe it to Steve to try and do the same?
Steve waited patiently for him to elaborate, leaning on the counter with his forearms.
"It was right after the accident. I… hurt someone that used to be very close to me." He took a deep breath, willing unwanted emotions down again. "You can try your best to keep the people you love safe from monsters, but it's impossible when you're trying to keep them safe from you." He shrugged. "But, that's something I have to deal with. Not you. So don't beat yourself up over things that aren't actually your fault, Steve. If you keep doing this, the guilt is going to crush you."
Steve couldn't help but stare at the distraught physicist. He tentatively put a hand on Bruce's shoulder. The other man instantly tensed up, but relaxed after a moment.
"The Other Guy is doing good now, and that's what matters. You can't stay stuck in the past, right?"
Bruce looked up at the man next to him, his lips twitching into a ghost of a smile. "Right. And presently, I'm thinking we need something stronger than tea."
"I can't get drunk." Steve said in reply, sounding slightly mournful as Bruce walked over to the refrigerator.
Bruce grinned. "I'm not talking about liquor."
Steve outright chuckled when Bruce set what he'd found on the counter and began his search for bowls and spoons.
"Ice cream?"
"Sure. It's hard to be sad while eating ice cream."
"I guess that's true. Though I prefer vanilla over chocolate."
Bruce quirked an eyebrow. "How are you even human?"
"I'm not?" Steve suggested with a grin.
This time Bruce laughed. "That makes sense, then."
After almost a full minute of Bruce trying to scoop the frozen ice cream, Steve ended up taking over and using his superior strength to get the job done. The two men ate in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Steve found he couldn't help but agree with Bruce. It was much harder to be sad while eating ice cream. When they were done, they put their dishes in the sink and the ice cream back in the fridge.
As they both stood by the counter, Steve put a hand on the physicists shoulder again. "Thank you, Doctor Banner."
"You too, Captain."
That night, they both slept better than they had in a while. Bruce had a deep, dreamless sleep, and Steve dreamt again of Bucky and Peggy. Only this time, they reassured him that what had happened wasn't his fault. He had done above and beyond his part, and that was more than they could have ever asked of him.
He woke late the next morning and found Clint and Natasha in the kitchen. The Black Widow was making coffee, discreetly pouring a shot of vodka into the cup when she thought he and Clint weren't looking.
Remembering what Bruce had told him the night before, and being ever the gentleman, Steve couldn't stop himself from asking, "'Morning Miss Romanoff, did you sleep well?"
She gave a curt nod and promptly left the kitchen.
Steve sighed. They were all broken. Every single one of them. But, maybe they could learn to depend on each other. All of those broken pieces created a whole team when put together, after all. And maybe through the trust that was slowly building between them, they could learn to get better. Not whole, but better.
Maybe this Avengers thing could actually work.
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