Back at the Avengers' compound, Rhodey found that getting Tony to agree to do something was a lot easier than actually making sure that he did the thing. He understood how Tony's brain worked better than most. On the best of days, the man could shoot out of a sound sleep in the wee hours of the morning due to an idea or breakthrough and disappear into his workshop for hours and sometimes days. He could be in the middle of a card game and suddenly start mumbling to himself about electromagnetism. He had always been energetic, physically and mentally, and as much as he seemed to crave attention and constant stimulation, it was staggeringly difficult to get through his defenses and truly reach him. You could think you knew him and discover that you only knew the Tony he wanted you to see.

Rhodey assigned the blame for that to Howard Stark. He had heard things in Tony's voice after trips home that he didn't hear any other time. He noticed that Tony almost never spoke of his father, and he noticed that all of his family activities centered around his mother, and around Jarvis, his butler. If Tony had once sobbed miserably into Rhodey's shoulder after returning from Christmas break, so drunk he could hardly stand up, after his parents had been killed in an car accident, then Rhodey had never mentioned it to anyone.

After Afghanistan, there had been a lot of problems, the least of which was pronounced insomnia, but by then, Tony had been on a creative bender with the Arc Reactors, suits, the Avengers Initiative, and saving the world. He suspected the anxiety, the PTSD, and the Howard-imparted feelings of inadequacy, but there was never a good time to bring it up. He should have asked Tony how he felt about meeting Captain America, if his father's obsession colored his opinion of the man, but he hadn't. And now ... now, Steve Rogers, a man Rhodey knew, had trusted, and respected, had hurt the best friend he had.

He wanted to think that Steve would regret at least some of his actions if he fully understood what he'd done, but he didn't know, not for certain. Did Steve know about Tony and Howard's relationship? Who could have told him? Tony? Not likely. The idea of the symbolism of that shield being used to crush Tony's armor made him sick. Howard had used the shadow of Captain America to crush his son's spirit, but Steve had turned it into a physical manifestation of Tony's worst suspicion - that he would always be less than to everyone who mattered to him. That he was expected to swallow his betrayal and grief and follow Steve's lead in saving his assassin friend. Internalize a devastating breakup. To forever follow and never lead, his own ideas and dreams as trampled by Steve and the Avengers as they had ever been under Howard.

Tony wasn't a follower, he was an innovator. He looked for ways to make things better, easier, stronger, and faster. He wasn't any less heroic than Captain America - Rhodey had never been prouder or more terrified than when Tony had flown that bomb into space. His willingness to compromise didn't mean that his principles were weaker, only that he was more grounded in reality. Tony was often several steps ahead of any given situation, and he could see the writing on the walls with Ross and the Accords before the rest of the Avengers. Rhodey had seen it too, this time, for all of the good it had done either of them. They had both been crippled by this "Civil War," as far as he was concerned. It had taken his legs, but it had stolen the ability to trust from his friend.

Rhodey was jarred from his thinking by a crashing sound from down the hall that sounded suspiciously like small pieces of metal rolling around on a hard floor. He let out a sigh, counted to five, and called out in a voice that sounded calmer than it should have, "I thought you were getting yourself ready to sleep!"

The returning shout was muffled enough that it sounded like something about lox. Rhodey swore. He doubted that Tony was in there eating bagels.

"Don't make me come in there! I do not want to see your ass, even by accident!"

The returned shout of, "You know you do!" still sounded more muffled than it should have. The only way he was going to find out what the hell the man was up to was to wheel himself down there to find out.

As it turned out, the reason for the muffling was that Tony was halfway under his bed. His thankfully clothed hindquarters sticking out in a most undignified manner. There were small pieces of metal scattered about the floor. Nuts, bolts, nails, screws, tiny motor bits, and small tools. Tony scuttled out from beneath the bed with a handful of them.

"I knocked my backup emergency toolbox off of the shelf. Sorry for the noise."

Beneath his cheerful expression was something else, something darker, stretched tight and brittle. It was a testament to everything they had been through together when Tony sighed heavily and said, "I know. I'm not even a good liar anymore, am I?"

"I have no doubt that if you wanted me to believe you, you would have done a better job. What the hell are you doing, anyway? You need to sleep, It's 9:30PM and you've been dragging your feet ever since we got back from dinner. You have a press conference tomorrow at 1PM. If you make an honest effort now, you could catch up on 12 or so hours of rest, and you need it."

"I know. I - "

He hesitated, and that little pause hurt Rhodey more than it should have. The hesitation where there had never been one before. Steve Rogers' betrayal had somehow flung shrapnel even against the trust Tony had in Rhodey, and it hurt.

"Come on, Tony. Talk to me. You're all I've got right now, man. Don't shut off on me."

It was playing dirty, and he knew it, but it worked. If he could make Tony feel like he was doing him a favor instead of burdening him, he would talk.

"I've been - well, me and the concept of sleep have been ... seeing other people for quite some time."

"How much time are we talking about here?"

"I've been at least a little bit fucked up since Afghanistan. Insomnia, night terrors, dreams that seem too real ... Pepper helped. A lot. But now ..."

He trailed off.

"Have you seen a doctor? Do you have a prescription for something to help?"

"I have four prescriptions. One of them made me sleepwalk, one of them makes me dull and stupid when I wake up, and the other two make me wake up in the middle of a panic attack. Apparently, they don't make one for Stark brains."

"I'm sorry, man. Anything I can do to help?"

Tony offered a weak grin. "Keep being awesome?"

Rhodey gave his friend a pat on the arm. "Come with me. I have an idea."

He led the way to the common area, and patted the couch. "You do better when you have distractions, so maybe you'll sleep better that way too. We're going to turn on the TV and hang out, you'll pass out and get some rest, and maybe the subconscious noise in the background will keep your weirdo Stark brain busy enough to bypass all of the nonsense and let you sleep."

Tony looked worried. "What about you? You don't have to play slumber party with me out here. You should be comfortable in your bed!"

He shrugged. "Or I could be comfortable in this insane, space-age recliner you modified especially for me. And I could be comfortable in the knowledge that my best friend needs something that I can actually help with. Either/or, man. You're the one with somewhere to be tomorrow. I can pretty much chill all day with the exception of physio."

When Tony flopped onto the sofa and buried himself in a blanket, Rhodey was relieved. He turned on the TV to a wildlife documentary and asked, "What do you want to watch?"

There was no response, and suddenly, Rhodey realized why. On the screen, a bear lay dying in the snow. When he had first turned it on, a fight between some wolves and the bear had been raging, and now the wolves were gone and the narrator was saying in a British accent, "Their young and their territory successfully defended, the wolves retreat to fight another day. The bear is not so lucky."

"Shit!" Rhodey mashed the remote control to change the channel to anything but that. He turned to get a good look at Tony. His eyes were bleak, tired, and shadowed.

"Fuck Wild Russia. Fuck Animal Planet. Why do I feel like the universe is trying to drive home some kind of point here?" Tony rubbed his eyes as if to alleviate a headache.

"Hey," Rhodey said, as gently as he could. "I can't imagine what that fight was like, and I wish you could forget. If I hadn't been laid up, I would have been with you and things would have gone differently in that bunker. Even if we'd gotten our asses handed to us, you wouldn't have been alone like that for all that time, and maybe us metal men could have kicked some super soldier ass, who knows? Either way, two on one is bad form, and so is leaving a man behind. I'm on your side in this one, Tony. We were right. Right about the Accords, right to try to bring in the team and not hurt them. The Raft was as much of a surprise to you as it was to them, and if - IF you ever need to use that phone and contact Steve and the team, and if we need to fight with them again, I want you to know that you are my Bucky Barnes."

Tony scowled, "I'm your what? I'm your kinda-Russian brainwashed murderer?"

"Asshole. You know what I mean. If I were Captain America, then you are that friend I'd throw it all away for. The friend I'd punch Steve in the face for. The one I'd break the law to help. I'd like to think that Natasha would let the two of us escape if we were on the run, like she did for the Ice King and Spangles."

"I thought I was the nicknamer. It was kinda my gig," Tony whined. "You've been watching Cartoon Network again?"

Rhodey shook his head. "The new Teen Titans is terrible, I'm not sure how Clone Wars is going to fit in with the new Star Wars canon, and I may be addicted to Adventure Time. See, I wanted to call the Super Soldier twins Finn and Jake, but I wasn't sure which one was the human and which was the magic dog."

Tony gave him a look, but he defended himself, "Hey, I've got some time on my hands, and it reminds me of college. Cold pizza and cartoons, right?"

"You're getting better at the nicknaming game, but a Padawan you still are."

"Then you better up your game, Yoda."

He glanced at Tony, happy to see a grin on his face again. "Star Wars?"

"Star Wars," Tony frowned for a moment. "Rhodey? Did Nick Fury remind you of Mace Windu?"

"Are you asking me because I'm black?"

"I'm asking you because you're the only human being willing to hang out with me right now," Tony pulled the blanket over his face again and Rhodey threw him a small pillow and called up the movie on the screen.

"Marathon? Originals first, then prequels, and then the new one?"

"Sounds good. I miss when I used to take a drink every time Leia hit her mark. And every time Artoo beeped."

"Tony, Leia never misses. She always hits her mark ... oh. I see. Yeah, that's in the past. How about you take a sip whenever the storm troopers hit something?"

"Those guys couldn't hit a barn in broad daylight. Yeah, your plan is probably better. Have you seen the new movie yet?"

Rhodey shook his head. "Nope. I was too busy. You?"

"Nope," Tony grinned. "At first, I was worried about what Disney was going to do to the franchise, and then I was so busy with the Avengers, I never got around to it."

With a sigh, Rhodey admitted, "And yes, Fury reminded me of Mace Windu, too."

There was no reply. Tony was already asleep.