Tony gazed at the inky blue-black skyline of the city as the occupants went about their lives. Horns blared distantly below him as car lights bounced along crowded expanses of road like tiny ants marching back home. Occasionally, happy shrieks or a sharp inflection cut through the city's white noise. Lights from the surrounding buildings blinked on and off and illuminated snippets of people's lives that Tony would have never previously noticed.
Tony allowed the shadows from a nearby overhang to hide him from prying eyes as he slowly slid down the wall. The door to the roof clicked behind him and he could hear F.R.I.D.A.Y calling for him to come back inside. He smacked a cigarette into his hand lit it. He inhaled the cigarette. The smoke burned his lungs and he felt his body relaxed for a few moments. His hand twitched as the cigarette ash floated to the ground and he ached to wrap his around a glass of whiskey. Nights like this were always the hardest when the pull to drink was strongest. He had run out of reasons to stay sober months ago and had been grasping at anything to keep busy and to avoid feelings. He tasted the smooth amber and the liquid burned the back of his throat. He closed his eyes and the liquid softened the edge of the exhaustion that kept his stomach twisted in knots and his aching eyes open at night.
He shook his head as he smashed the half smoked cigarette stub into the ground. He gritted his teeth and longed for the whiskey with every fiber in his being. He pictured himself disabling F.R.I.D.A.Y protocols and locking himself in his lab and opening the compartment where his emergency whiskey bottle sat.
Unbiddingly, a therapist's voice drifted into his head and reminded him that he had a lifelong battle and it was important to remember he was never alone. Tony scoffed as he thought of Pepper, Steve, The Avengers and how they had all left him when he needed them the most. He balled his fists and hit his head in frustration. He was only trying to do the right thing for everyone. The super powered community needed accountability or else Sokovia and Stamford would be repeated.
The smoldering crater where the school had stood as rescue personnel scrambled to find victims and provide aid as fast as they could flashed through his eyes. Suddenly, he remembered standing there, arms hanging limply at his side as he watched volunteers lift broken bits of concrete. Steel groaned beneath some of the volunteers and frantic shouts pierce the air as the jumped away from the collapsing buildings, the terrified screams of the survivors below falling into an eerie silence. The suit power beeped warnings and flashed rapidly decreasing percentages and he haphazardly flew to the wreckage.
Tony gasped and shook himself from the flashback, gasping big breaths as if he had just been in a fight. His brain betrayed him and pictures of crumbled houses with glittering shards of glass glimmering in the hazy broken sunlight in Sokovia tumbled before his eyes. Overturned cars laid like tombstones marking the disaster that he had created, with limp bodies of their owners sprawled about like stringless puppets.
Rhodey's body plummeting toward the earth and he wasn't fast enough to catch him. He wasn't able to protect his only friend from dying.
He hung his head and dragged his knees to his chest. He was responsible for the death of hundreds. He refused to tell anyone what he had seen. He created Ultron to help. He only wanted to save them. The Sokovia Accords weren't supposed to be this mess of morals and self-righteousness. He thought Steve, do-gooder Steve Rogers, would understand the want to preserve the lives of others at any cost. But he hadn't and here they were.
He reached for his phone to disable F.R.I.D. A.Y'S protocols and the fail safe in the software. A phantom voice whispered to him that one drink wouldn't hurt him, he could stop after one drink. He was the great Tony Stark and Pepper wasn't there to see him. He didn't have to answer to anybody.
The thought of Pepper sent a sharp pain through him and all he saw he was the look of utter contempt she had thrown at him after he had limped into the Tower, bloodied and bruised clutching Captain America's battered shield. The click-clack of her heels on the tile floor echoed in his memory as she walked away from him for the final time.
He never heard Natasha emerge from the side door and startled when she materialized in front of him. He threw a half-hearted glare, lips contorted into a scowl as she crossed her arms across her chest and blinked at him slowly. He half wondered if she was going to ninja drop him to the floor so she could drag him back inside.
"Ah, the spy with no scruples is here to see me," Tony announced, voice dripping with sarcasm. He turned from her, staring intently at the building across the way. "Here to give good ol' Cap intel on how fucked up Iron Man is? Tell him when he needs to strike now to win this super powered civil war?"
Natasha dropped her arms to her side and shifted her weight to her back foot and byassed the barb by replying, "Rhodey asked me to check on you."
Tony turned his head so he could face her and for a moment he wanted her to fight him, to take him down and put him out of his misery. Natasha narrowed her eyes, almost as if she could hear Tony's thoughts. Instead of striking as he had hoped, she slid next to Tony and turned her attention to the city line and simply watched the lights flicker on and off. Tony felt the build up of energy beneath his skin, the angry buzz he couldn't quite settle and the nasty little voice whispered in his ear. He slammed his fist into the roof, small pebbles eating into the soft flesh of his knuckles.
Tony slammed his other fist into the roof briefly relishing the release of the pain that lanced through his knuckles. The pain nearly quieted the buzzing and for the briefest moment he felt the tension melt from his body. Natasha continued to stare ahead, seemingly ignoring Tony, even though he knew that was just a ruse.
Tony sagged against the wall as the energy buzzed beneath his skin. His fingers twitched against the cool ground aching for something that he could not have. Natasha shifted against the wall and turned her body to face him. In the dim glow provided by the flickering city lights, her green eyes glittered as she waited for his next move.
Tony avoided her gaze suddenly afraid he might see her disgust, or worse yet, her pity. She was SHIELD once and he knew that his file hid the battle that raged within him daily. He wondered if the spy sided with him because she was the only one who would be willing to take him out if he went too far. Well, he supposed Clint would also be high on that list considering he had imprisoned him and then attempted to charge his family with treason. In retrospect, he thought, he probably shouldn't have done that. He wondered if Natasha and Clint were still friends or if they had also divided over the accords. He wondered if Natasha was like him, adrift without an anchor.
He wished again she would throw a punch to his face, break his nose to give him something else to focus on. Instead she said softly, "Tony, you were trying to protect others and there is nothing wrong with that."
Tony's harsh scoff grated in the small space between them. Unperturbed, Natasha resumed her stance against the wall. Though the hour was late, lights shone brightly against the glaucous gray backdrop. A blurred woman paced in the living room of the apartment complex to their left. Tony and Natasha watched as she raised her arm and ran her hand through her hair.
Natasha nodded her head toward the woman "See that woman?"
Begrudgingly Tony grunted in assent as he tracked the woman's movement through her small living room.
"I think," Natasha paused her lips twisted into something almost soft, "that if we can do just a little to lessen that feeling of fear and loss then we are doing good."
Tony watched as the woman lunged toward an object, a phone he assumed, and placed it to her ear. He watched her slump to the floor and Tony tasted the grief that surrounded her. He recoiled from the sheer voyeurism of what they were witnessing. He turned his face away from the woman and skittered away from Natasha.
Unwillingly the words spilled from his mouth. "I was only trying to do the right thing.I just… I didn't want them dead. I thought… I thought if I could protect them, it would make the guilt go away."
Tony stared at his purpling knuckles willing the images of Steve's bloodied and disfigured body from Wanda's vision away. He dropped his head to his knees ignoring the warm pricks of frustrated tears. He was Tony Stark and Tony Stark did not cry. He inhaled a shuddery breath but the buzzing beneath his skin grew stronger as it resonated in his ears and vibrated just below the surface of the skin. His fingers drummed a frantic beat into the roof, his legs jittering with in an awkward rhythm.
He stood abruptly shaking his limbs loose as if the very action was the answer he needed. He strode to the edge of the building feet scraping against loose rock and debris. Natasha's eyes followed his movements and he could feel her calculating how many steps it would take her to reach him if he decided to swan dive off the side of the building. Shuddering, gravity was tugging at him, pulling him toward the earth at a death defying speed. His ragged breath failed to fill his lungs with air that he was never going to get again. In his panic he lifted his foot and teetered on the edge of the building. His foot caught air as he attempted to find his balance. Natasha's hand wrapped around his shoulder and yanked him backwards. Tony windmilled for a moment as he attempted to catch his balance, but found himself sprawled on the ground instead.
Natasha peered down at him, forehead creased in worry and stated, "Tony, this isn't like you."
"Neither are panic attacks and crippling self-doubt, and yet, it happens."
"Perhaps we should go back to the main floor," she said moving away from him and toward the tower door.
"No. I need to stay here," Tony muttered as he laid sprawled on his back.
"Indoors would be bet-" she started again, hands on her hips as her patience with him waned.
"I NEED TO STAY HERE!" Tony shouted, shoving himself up so that he was standing to face Natasha. He ran his hand through his hair and gaped at her before he stalked toward the overhang where he had sat before. He flung himself against the wall and slid down, breathing heavily.
He willed the thoughts spiralling through his head to stop and stuttered, "I can't go there, Natasha! I can't- there, there, I was and I can't, I can't."
Natasha's hands were suddenly on him pulling his shoulders toward 's breathing became more rapid as he frantically thought, God why was she touching him? He hated to be touched, she knew he hated to be touched, she's too warm, it's too much. He tried to pull away from her, but she firmly kept him where he was.
She spoke softly, the words a quiet and calming cadence, but he couldn't focus on anything as the world became smaller and his chest heaved as his breaths came in short bursts. Every breath ripped through his throat and chest as he inhaled. His vision wobbled and Natasha's face blurred into a blob, the roof melting into darkness and he could only think of space and falling. His coarse clothes scraped against his skin, every fiber was like sandpaper rubbing against his skin. Images of Cap's dead body collapsed around his broken shield, Natasha's eyes wide and unseeing, Sokovia and New York leveled and broken bodies danced before his eyes. He was free falling from the sky as he suffocated, his body plummeting toward earth and this was his final moment.
Natasha grabbed Tony's face and squeezed his cheeks so hard that small lances of pain crept in through the panic. She continued to murmur something soft and he attempted to focus on the movement of her lips. Natasha's voice broke through the thud of his heart and the buzzing lessened beneath his skin and after what seemed like hours, Natasha's voice finally broke through to him. Natasha moved behind him and forced her body between his and the wall. She pulled him to her chest and took exaggerated slow steadying breaths that forced him to breath with her. Tony tried to match his breathing to hers and ignore that she was touching him again. He could feel his heart slowing down as he timed his breathing to hers.
They remained that way for several minutes before Tony pulled away no longer able to stand being touched. Understanding, Natasha scooted in the opposite direction and gave him space. Tony clenched his hands and unclenched his hand, slowly splaying his fingers wide and stretching them.
Natasha stretched her legs in front of her and said softly, "We're doing what needs to be done and it isn't going to make us popular or loved. We're making the sacrifice for the good of the people and they'll never know. We're the heroes that look like villains to our friends and the world because they've not toed the edge of darkness like we have. But you aren't doing this alone."
"Thank you," he muttered awkwardly. Exhausted, he leaned his head against the wall as a slight breeze licked at his clammy skin. He shivered a bit, but found that he was comfortable. He missed Natasha's head nod, but smiled slightly as she gently tapped his foot with her own.
They stayed atop the roof until the first rays of sunlight tentatively peeked through the darkness. Lights in the buildings flickered off and the city noise became louder as the city woke. He absorbed the city sounds as they drifted up to him again, comforted by the concrete and steel buildings that surrounded him. Tony felt his muscles melt against the wall and for the first time in days he shut his eyes and felt himself drifting into peaceful unconsciousness as the city below him teemed with life.