The tower was silent except for the slightest creak of the genius's door as he emerged from his bedroom, well rested from his first full night of sleep in a long time. His bare feet padded gently across the floor as he stepped out, his gait lazy and unsteady. He was no doubt in for a day of in drowning in coffee and pain medication, as his head was still groggy from the night before. His brain felt like it was going to explode if he thought too hard; of course he still had every intention of working himself silly that day. He almost shuffled past the figure curled up against the wall outside his door, but caught a last minute glance before he had the chance to turn the corner. Sauntering backwards, he sighed, making his way towards the sleeping super soldier coiled up in the caliginous corridor.

"Rogers?" He hesitantly nudged the blonde, not wanting to startle him from his surprising deep sleep, considering he was on the floor.

Icy blue eyes snapped open almost instantly, seemingly awake for a moment or two as they scanned their surroundings. Seeing no immediate danger, they fluttered shut once more, opening and closing a few more times as if finally getting the chance to adjust and wake up properly.

"G'morning…" the soldier rolled his shoulders as he straightened himself, back against the wall as he continued to sit on the wooden floor, "how's your head?"

Ignoring the question, the billionaire just rolled his eyes (which hurt more than he would have expected), "What are you doing on the floor? The mattress I gave you not meet your standards or something?" He teased, and was rewarded with a smirk from blonde, who was now rising to his feet.

"Ah…" He sheepishly ran his hand through his hair, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I guess I fell asleep after Natasha and I got you to bed. I uh, sorry."

"Got me to bed?" Tony struggled to remember the evening's chain of events, putting together the puzzle pieces in his head. He could remember alcohol, and frankly he could still somewhat smell it on his breath. Steve began to clarify, interrupting his struggle to recall the incident he undoubtedly caused.

"You drank yourself half to death, and somehow I triggered a panic attack out of you. Natasha calmed you down and we took you to bed. You really don't remember?

Tony shook his head, running his hands through his ruffled hair, slightly ashamed and embarrassed that his friends had witnessed him at his lowest. "Not really. Sorry…for the uh, trouble," he coughed awkwardly, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

"Not a problem. But maybe you should consider cutting down on the alcohol consumption?"

Tony couldn't help but laugh, even if it pained his pounding skull. He stood there for a moment trying to pull himself together before playfully patting Steve's back, walking away as he spoke. "Ha! Oh man, Cap…" he stifled another fit of laughter, "that's priceless… really it is." He chuckled again as he started into the kitchen, the soldier following idly behind.

Steve shook off the renounced attitude of the genius, wandering over to the fridge and pulling 4 eggs from the shelf; 2 for each of them. "Want some?" He asked this as if Stark had a choice, because there was no way he was going to let the man starve himself after the ample amount of alcohol he had consumed.

"Yeah sure, thanks Cap'n." Tony said this almost indifferently, obviously lost in thought. He grabbed the carafe filled with coffee (thank you, Jarvis), pouring it into a mug for himself. The scent was warm and inviting as he sipped the unsweetened brew, feeling it stream down his throat, warming his stomach and slightly soothing his headache. He found himself observing the soldier as he prepared their meal; eggs, bacon, and white toast. He began to wonder why the guy cared about his health so much. Surely he had better things to worry about? Better things to do? It didn't make sense to Tony. He had spent nearly his entire life taking care of himself, making decisions based on his own judgment and acuity. Besides, it's not like he knew any other way; it's just the way things have always been. He was a Stark. "Stark's are made of iron," and "Stark's don't cry." His father's words echoed through his throbbing head. Howard had made sure Tony understood this, and did everything he could to ensure it remained so. Images of his father, fists raised, standing above him as he cowered on the ground, tears filling the rims of his eyes but refusing to fall, flashed through his mind.

"Tony?"

The voice pulled the brunette from his far away thoughts, shaking them away almost as quick as they arrived.

"Hm? Uh…what?"

Steve set his breakfast on the counter in front of the dazed billionaire, the plate clunking slightly against the granite. "Eat." This was his only response, aside from the concerned look he was burning into man.

Tony complied, unwilling to argue with the solider right now. He was exhausted, despite having actually slept for once. There were so many thoughts spinning through his mind, some of which refusing to let him push them to the back where they belonged. His shoulders slouched as he finished what he could of his food, realizing how not-hungry he was. He nodded a thanks to Steve, retreating to his workshop. He figured today was a good day to work on Natasha's redesigned gauntlets.

"Jarvis, pull up Widow's new bite designs."

The AI adhered to his request, pulling the ingenious and intricate blueprints on the monitor, as well as a holographic image.

Tony sat, laid back in his desk chair as he studied his designs for any final adjustments, before giving the seal of approval. He gathered his needed supplies, along with his tools and got to work. He began with the framework of the gauntlets. They were slimmer than the old design, but he made sure they were fitted to her wrists, and even added a pull system, similar to that of a wrist watch, in case she felt the need to tighten or loosen them. Once he finished, he moved on to the electrical capacitor system and wiring. He connected the new system to the redesigned electrical probes, and insert the taser disks into the small firing system. He also took the task of adding a set of taser batons to the set, something he's wanted to do for a while now. Finally his creation was complete. He held up his work with pride, examining it thoroughly.

"J? Tell Nat to stop by the lab when she gets the chance."

"Will do, Sir."

Tony continued to chip away at various projects for the next three days, not once coming up for air even with his team nagging at him. He was a grown man, damnit. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He poured himself a glass of scotch, downing it instantly. The familiar burning sensation warming his stomach. He savored the feeling for a brief moment before returning to his work, upgrading his Iron Man armor.

A few hours later, there was a slight knocking at the lab doors.

"Sir, Doctor Banner is requesting to enter the lab. Shall I let him in?"

"Banner? Tell him I'm busy." Tony pulled his welding mask down over his head, and continued his work.

Bruce stood patiently outside the doors before Jarvis spoke up.

"I'm afraid Sir has denied your request, Dr. Banner."

"Tell him it's important."

"Very well."

Tony flipped up his mask, setting his welding torch aside as the AI chimed in again.

"I'm afraid he's insisting, Sir."

"Fine. Let big green in." He lazily waved his hand as the doctor slipped in.

"Tony? I think you should eat something…we're all getting a bit worried. You've been down here working non-stop. Again."

"Calm down, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Banner." Tony sounded almost annoyed, but his expression wielded his all too famous Tony Stark grin. He noticed the pained expression on his best friend's face though, and softened up a bit. "Agh…fine fine. I'll eat. Hell, I'll sleep, too. Happy?"

Bruce just smiled and nodded, turning on his heel and exiting the room.

"You're welcome." The billionaire mumbled under his breath, setting his tools aside and making his way to the door. He was just about out of the lab when an all-too-familiar voice could be heard behind him.

"My, my. Well if it isn't Tony Stark." The voice was ice, so cold it burned. He felt eyes tearing through him from behind but he refused to turn around. He couldn't. This couldn't be happening again. "Tell me, how does one mortal manage to escape death with such ease?"