Tony couldn't do anything more than scream.

He didn't bother trying not to, he'd learnt fighting helped no one, but he tried to hide it – smothering his face into the nearest pillow, and tangling his legs in the covers. He could feel an ache in his chest as he panted through the aftershocks, something that burnt in the lines of the metal branding him like cattle, but he'd felt worse before. The ghosting agony was nothing compared to those first days in the cave.

Tony smothered a whimper into the cotton of his shirt. He had to check, he had to know it was still there because there was a little voice whispering that it wasn't. He knew it was irrational, he knew it was stupid, he knew he wouldn't be breathing if it wasn't there but…

His fingers curled around the edges of the reactor.

Letting out a gusty sigh, he wiped the damp from his brow. "Goddamn it," Tony breathed, swallowing down against a more creative curse word. He'd been scolded enough by the team leader about his language as it was, he didn't need another lecture. "Quinn, I'm sorry…"

Despite the almost violent nature of the dream, he couldn't quite find the strength to call it a nightmare. He'd had real nightmares before – dreams that left him shaking and quivering hours after he'd woken, ones that made him sick to his stomach and pain pound behind his eyes. He knew what a nightmare was, and she wasn't one. Sure, maybe later today he'd see blood staining his hands, maybe he'd feel panic settle in his lungs, but it would be worth it.

It would be worth it because those nightmares, those terrifying memories… They were all he had left of her, all he had left to prove that there was something beating behind the blue light of his arc reactor. He needed them.

"Sir, are you well? Do you require assistance?"

The proper voice made the genius let out a breath, shoulders trembling with the effort it took to hold up his weight. "No, no I was – yeah I'm fine, Jay," he managed, shaking his head when it snorted at the lie. "I thought I was – actually, never mind."

Jarvis hummed. "Ah, a bad dream then, sir?" he continued, the turns to his voice seemingly cooing in comfort. "Do you want me to alert the others?"

Tony's trembling slowed, body distracted as his mind considered the option for little more than a second before dismissing it. He wasn't some pansy hanging from the top of a building in a pressed suit, or a buxom woman needing someone super to save her from the leering bad guy. He was the infamous man of iron. He bedded a different beauty every night, gave money to a different charity every day, and invented life changing things when he was bored.

He was Tony Stark. He didn't need help – mental or otherwise.

"No, leave the poor bastards alone. God knows they need their beauty sleep more than I do," he murmured, shifting to splay out over the empty expanse of mattress. From his new position, he could see the holographic display beside his bed, taking in the time with a barely concealed groan. It was early – too early to get up and start the day, but too late to get any more decent sleep. "Hey, Jay? Do me a favour…"

He didn't even need to finish the sentence, the darkened windows lining his room lighting up to reveal the city beyond them. It was still somewhat tainted by the moonlight, proving he'd been right in thinking it was too early to start living, but there was light growing behind the skyscrapers. The promise of sun.

And if the sun was – wait, people went jogging about this time, didn't they? Early so they could cram it in before their workday and – and was he actually considering physical exercise? As in, shorts and a tank top as he pounded down the pavement? Good god.

"Jay, make a note – I might need to get my brain scanned," Tony mused, pursing his lips as he noted a light flicking on in one of the neighbouring buildings. It was the ugly skyscraper his competitor had erected right before his own, and instantly he snorted, hating whoever was hiding behind that flash of orange. "Just to check for any defects or whatever. Remind me to ask Brucie to do it."

"Sir? I do believe you said it was only a nightmare?"

Tony pulled a face. "It was," he brushed aside. "But I was just considering accompanying the good captain on his morning run."

The intelligence caught on rather quickly, polite voice gaining an almost sarcastically mocking edge. "If that is true sir, then I think all hope is lost. I say we skip the tests and go straight to pulling the plug," he decided. "There is no cure."

"Oh well, hardy har," the billionaire grumbled, crumpling up his duvet and shoving it under his nose. "I'm going back to sleep. At least there I won't have to put up with your incessant nagging. Wake me up when September ends, would you?"

There was a pause. "It is the middle of May."

Tony managed to frown into his pillow, eyes rolling upwards under closed lids. The audacity of the artificial intelligence was astounding. "Fine, fine, whatever," he breathed out, making the absent note to introduce more pop culture into the system. "Wake me up when the war is over then."

The artificial butler hummed back, apparently approving this turn of phrase. "Which war would that be, sir?"

Tony's eyes flitted open to stare out the window again, any notion of sleep cleansed from his mind. That other light was still on, reminding him he wasn't completely alone. "The one that's raging in my head?" he whispered, breathing through the flash of panic curling in his chest.

"Sir, I am unsure about the war inside your head – but the others are beginning to wake up now."

Tony gave an absent nod, continuing his staring contest with that singular light in the opposing building. He had yet to close his eyes, to blink, because that damn irrational voice was trying to convince him that when he opened his eyes again – the light would be gone.

It was his manners that reminded him to answer, and he frowned, licking his lips. "Oh? Uh, who's up then?" he questioned, the frown deepening when another light came into being a few floors down. It must've been the beginning of the work day then, if more offices were being used. "If it's only carrot-top, I refuse to leave this room. Every time I am alone with that woman, I break something."

Jarvis made a small sound of understanding. "I believe the more accurate term, sir, would be that she breaks something."

The genius didn't even have a retort for that.

Tony pushed onto his elbows, tearing his eyes away from the outside world with a mumbled command to darken the windows. "I don't remember programming you with so much sarcasm," he noted quietly, rubbing a hand over his features. The lack of sleep made his bedroom blur at the edges, like he'd had too much drink or too little to eat.

"In your defence sir, you were very drunk. But you seemed adamant that it was the right thing to do," Jarvis recalled fondly.

The billionaire grunted, shoving back the blankets and leaving the comfort of his warm bed. Every muscle seemed to protest against it, but his mind argued that once a coffee and shower were done with, they'd be silent. Caffeine and hot water were miracle workers like that.

He was staggering drunkenly towards the bathroom with single minded intent when he heard it, the ceiling humming to life with a voice again. "Anyway, sir," the intelligence continued, remembering his initial question. "Agent Romanov is indeed up, but she is accompanied by Captain Rogers and Agent Barton. They are all seated in the kitchen, eating breakfast."

Tony mumbled into soapy hands, the words unintelligible to even his own ears. It was far too early to be sassed by the artificial intelligence he'd made with his own blood, sweat and tears. He hadn't even had a coffee yet. "Yeah, Jay. I'll be out in a bit," he muttered, tipping his head back and relishing in the hot water.

All he needed was a steaming cup of caffeinated heaven, and he'd call it a good morning.

Flicking the handle so the water flow stopped, Tony mussed up his hair, droplets shedding to paint the walls around him. "Get my coffee machine running, would you?" he asked loudly, trying to drown out the thoughts in his head. "If I don't have a cup ready in the next five minutes, I might die of withdrawal. Or die because I'll be grumpy, say something rude to carrot-top and then abruptly lose all my limbs."

Did Jarvis ever feel the desire to laugh? His creator was pretty hilarious. "Your coffee has already been prepared, sir."

"You're a saint," Tony called out, tugging a plain band shirt over his head. The darker material didn't block out the shine of his arc reactor, and absently he tapped the circle, eyes drifting back to the windows again. "They should give you a Bafta."

Jarvis let out a short sound, and he knew the intelligence enough to recognize it as denial. "It's not me you should be thanking, sir. I did not touch your machine this morning. It was Agent Romanov who prepared it for you," he revealed hesitantly, like he expected an argument.

Tony frowned, playing with his hair in the mirror. "Natasha?"

"Something must have led her to believe you were in need of the caffeine," Jarvis drawled, lowering the lights in the room as the man sauntered through the doorway. "But it is not something I have told, nor shown her, sir. I am unaware as to why she has gone out of her way."

Rubbing the dark circles below his eyes, the genius walked towards the elevator, pressing the button for the communal level. There was no way the red headed woman would suddenly take it upon herself to feed his caffeine addiction – especially considering she hated the unhealthy habit – so something was obviously wrong. But considering it was the woman, he'd never know what until she decided to tell him…

The elevator chimed, and with a shake of his head, he moved into the living area wearing a well-practised smile. "Good morning, you lot," he greeted, flashing the grin to the men sitting at the kitchen counter, their breakfasts in hand. "Did you sleep well?"

Steve made a small noise back, face slightly red from exertion and chest moving quicker than usual. He was back from his disgustingly early morning run then.

Tony fetched the steaming cup that sat rather innocently on the counter, looking over the two guys again. "You want any?" he offered, taking a fortifying sip as the blond shook his head and the archer grinned. Taking it as a yes, he grabbed another cup and started up the machine. "How was the run, Captain? Save any kittens from dastardly trees? Help any old ladies cross the road?"

The newspaper – newspaper, god he was puking a little in his mouth – crinkled in the blond's hand, blue eyes peeking up over the edge. "It's getting warmer now," Steve announced, smiling slightly at the realisation. He never did like the colder months, figures. "I don't have to deck out in merino every morning now."

Clint accepted the coffee offered to him graciously, smiling through teeth tainted by fruit loops. "Those warmer mornings make it a little easier to get out bed now too," he pointed out, tipping his cup in salute. "Feet don't freeze as soon as I touch the floor – oh, we should invest in heated flooring!"

"Did I hear you offering to pay for it?" Tony countered quickly, lifting a brow over the rim of his own cup.

Clint narrowed his eyes as the elevator chimed behind him, pointing his empty spoon at the genius. "You make more money in one day, then I make in an entire year," he accused haughtily, peering over his shoulder to take in the female form swaying towards him. "Nat, I need you to back me up here. If I want something, then he should have to pay for it, right?"

Natasha didn't bother to play around, eyes snapping to the form hunched over the counter top. "Did I make the coffee how you like it?"

"It's a little too sweet," Tony answered carefully, nodding his head in acknowledgement. It was the only sign of gratitude she was going to get from him. "A lot like you actually, gorgeous – why did you make me a coffee? You're not one to kiss ass."

The red head's smile was a few seconds away from giving him a cavity. "Oh, no reason," she lied, clean through her teeth. "I don't know about you guys, but I couldn't sleep too well last night. Passed the time prowling through the tower, playing bodyguard, you know passing the time. I'll admit that maybe I snuck onto a few floors that don't belong to me, found a few rooms…"

Tony lifted both his hands in surrender. "Okay, the giant room filled with porn? Not mine, I'm actually... No, yeah, that's mine. I have no shame."

"Your nightmares are back."

The billionaire let out a world-weary sigh, wondering how loud he must've screamed when he woke up that morning. If the assassin had heard it, she'd either been closer than she should've or he'd been louder than he should've. "Your snooping habits are back. How the hell did you get the pass codes for my floor?" he demanded, teeth grinding together. "Jay, I thought I said no one goes in or out?"

There was a tutting click of a tongue. "Don't blame him," Natasha scolded, tipping her head to the ceiling. "I heard you, and he let me in when I asked nicely and expressed concern. You should try your hand at manners one day, Tony – it might take you to places otherwise closed to you. Actually, why don't we start right now?" she offered, spreading her hands out in invitation and giving a sweet smile. "Let's start by you answering my damn questions. How does that sound?"

"Pretty boring," Tony murmured, letting the media tested and approved smile come out to play again. Pale eyes narrowed dangerously at his reply, and he was tempted to take his caffeine and run, but the elevator let out another loud chime.

It was the sight of sleep mussed curls, and crooked glasses that saved the day.

Natasha backed away slightly, turning to give the scientist a warmer look than she'd given the genius. "Bruce," she acknowledged, dipping her head before dropping her weight at the counter.

Bruce looked up, startled by the welcome. "Oh, good morning," he greeted, smiling slightly as he moved to rummage around in the cupboards.

Because the lean, green fighting machine was his favourite – he had an entire section closed away from whatever the hell he wanted, be it crockery, recipes books or a super secret stash of cookies. He dug around in said section now, a sweet sickly smell lingering in the air as he poured over the contents. He could've had cookies damn it, but instead chose what was apparently an indoor – incupboard? – herb garden.

Tony had never been so disappointed in his life.

He eyed the man and his dangerous assortment of herbal blends. "Is that tea? God, why do you do this to yourself?" he grumbled, wrinkling his nose as the bright packet was deposited on the countertop. It looked like something a kid would drink in milk. "How can you do this? There's no caffeine, so what's the point? It's a useless pass time."

Bruce gave a wan smile. "You know it's tea, don't ask dumb questions. I do this because I like the flavour, and the heat calms me down. I do this rather easily really, it's as simple as steeping the bag in hot water," he listed, taking a deep breath in to finish. "The point is, I sleep at night, so caffeine is unnecessary."

The genius felt vaguely impressed all questions were answered. "I totally sleep…"

"You totally don't," Bruce retorted without a beat of thought, shifting to lean against the counter. "If you do, what time did you finally go to bed last night then? If you totally catch the recommend several hours a night, it must've been quite early," he pointed out, blowing on his tea and taking a contented sip.

Tony felt his brow climb up at the mocking undertone. "Quarter past two," he admitted bitterly, rolling out his shoulders as he turned to take in the outside world. That light was now surrounded by dozens of others, but he could barely make them out as the sun steadily made its way through the sky. "And it's a recommendation, yeah? It's not exactly a law."

"Right. What time did you wake up?"

Feeling irritation leave a nasty taste on his tongue, the billionaire forced his teeth together. "Right, what time did you become my mother?" he demanded instead, licking his lips before trying to sip from his empty cup.

Bruce's features twisted ever so slightly, before he managed; "It was about when Pepper retired."

Tony hesitated as he went to top up his cup, closing his eyes against the low blow. "Well then, mother," he mocked with a lilting tone, pressing the button on the machine harder than he should've. His poor baby. "I don't remember. I don't go around counting the hours of shut eye I manage to catch."

He got a glare, an actual glare from the ever calm and rational Dr. Bruce Banner?

He was in the doghouse then.

Motherfuc –

"He's back to having nightmares," Natasha declared smartly, one of her hands expertly twirling a blade while the other held a brightly coloured apple. Every few beats she would stop the absent-minded action, cut into the apple, and pop the flesh into her mouth. "Although for some reason, I'm not surprised anymore?"

The curly headed man fidgeted uncomfortably. "Tony?"

It was the worried tone that made him shut his eyes, snatching the cup back. "What? When did this suddenly become an avenging problem? My sleeping habits – or lack thereof – have never bothered any of you before, so why now?" Tony drawled, lifting his mug in a mocking salute. It was four pairs of eyes that stared back, each in different levels of concern. "Please, enlighten me, oh wise assassiny one."

"You've been having a lot of nightmares, you know…" That would be their loyal captain, quite the regular golden boy with his stupid concern. "I mean, some days you don't even look like you've slept, and some days it doesn't seem like you even tried too."

Tony let out a slow breath. "I wouldn't call them nightmares," he murmured, swallowing past the thickening lump in his throat. He didn't want to talk about this, not now and – and not ever, if he had a say in things. "You know, I hadn't really noticed the insomnia, but thanks for pointing it out. It's nice remembering those endless nights I spend hopelessly staring up at my ceiling."

Steve looked like someone had punched his puppy – not that he had one. There were rules against pets in the tower.

The hurt expression, all big baby blues and pouting lips, made the billionaire falter in his war path. "Listen guys, the concern is lovely, really. It's just not needed. I've been having a few bad nights is all. You know how that can be."

The soldier nodded, because he did know. "If this…" Steve licked his lips, sharing a look with the scientist still sipping his tea. "If this is about New York then – "

Tony shook his head, stopping the man before he could even start with the honour and good will rant. "This isn't about the invasion, or the portal or – listen, it's not about anything, okay? Let's drop this and move onto greener pastures, yeah? Well, except you Bruce – you should stay the same shade you are now, you're not allowed to get greener. I've spent enough repairing this damn tower as it is."

Bruce nodded, giving an obedient but awkward chuckle. "Sorry about that…"

The words, as forced as they were, made the genius let out another sigh. "Bruce, I'm sorry," he muttered quietly, smiling a little to take away the heat of the previous few minutes. "Didn't mean to snap. The coffee hasn't kicked in yet."

"It's okay," Bruce shrugged, knowing better than to push any further on a topic the man was set on avoiding. He swirled a silver spoon in his cup for a few seconds, finally pulling out the tea bag and throwing it aside. "You know, you don't have to answer this..."

Tony made a face, grabbing his cup and a protein bar before moving towards the elevator. "And that's my cue to exit."

Bruce watched him go with confused eyes, letting him get a few steps closer to his goal. "You said that you wouldn't call them nightmares," he called out, catching the man seconds before he could disappear into the metal monster. "Which probably means you think they don't bother you, or you think they don't tick all the horror boxes."

"They don't bother me," Tony replied easily. "Never said anything about the horror. Is this all, my rides waiting?"

The curly headed man frowned, lines appearing around his mouth and eyes as he thought. "If they don't bother you, but they scare you…" he shook his head, pushing the tea cup away from his body and offering up a soothing smile. "What are the dreams about then?"

Tony dropped the hopeful eyes. "You remember that old friend I mentioned?" he murmured distractedly, toying with the solid edges of the cup. It took him less than a second to backtrack, hearing the red headed woman let out a curious hum. He didn't need her poking around in his head "Actually, don't worry about it. I'll uh, I'll see you guys later."

Is this true? Have I really started the rewrite?

I suppose that seeing as you guys have finished the first official chapter, then yes, I really have! I'd like to clear some things up quickly though – first being yes, some of this will be me using old jokes just with a better style of writing, but this is technically a rewrite. Things are going to change. The length of the chapters, the plot, getting rid of things I didn't like and adding in things I should've the first time around. Oh, and I can't write first person no matter how hard I try… sorry…

I hope some of the old readers – the old friends, lol I'm so damn funny wow – are still with me, but I also hope to gain some more! I've been excited to give this story what it deserves.

Taila xx