A/N: I just wanna say thank you to everyone who reads & takes the time to review! It really means a lot. I hope to have another chapter or 2 up before Christmas. If I don't, everyone have a Merry Christmas or whatever doesn't offend you. Also, I posted a little thing I wrote called Stark Spangled Christmas which is a lot more of a light fluffy Superfamily fic if you wanna check it out. (:
February 5th
"Hey!" Pepper smiles breathlessly. She drops her things on the coffee table before falling onto the couch, kicking her stilettos onto the floor. She's not surprised to see Steve in the same place he was in when she left this morning.
"Tired?" Steve guesses, receiving a nod. "Pep, I can't thank you enough for letting me stay. I didn't know where else to go and I- there's no way I could've gone home last night."
She lets out an exhausted sigh, pulling her hair into a messy pony tail, nodding, "I know. You two need to fix things before it's too late."
"I know," Steve admits, curling into the corner of the couch, arms around his knees. "He left me a message last night saying to come home but I'm pretty sure he was drunk."
"Drunk?" Pepper echoes.
"He's drinking again."
Pepper leans back against the couch with a worried expression on her face and stares at the ceiling for a long while before asking, "When did things get so bad between you two?"
"We were okay- as okay as we could be after Peter died up until the day I was supposed to have my baby shower. But I think Tony started drinking again the day we found out Peter died. I'm pretty sure I smelled it on him when we went to the hospital. God, I just don't- I don't know what to do. We fight all the time and I feel like he doesn't even love me anymore."
"Oh, Steve, he loves you," Pepper replies, putting a reassuring hand on Steve's knee.
Steve considers telling Pepper what they were fighting about and that he punched Tony because Tony is just a huge asshole sometimes and this was one of those times. But it isn't really any of her business and Steve is embarrassed about this entire situation. And that's just great, because now he's teary-eyed and covering his face with his hands miserably.
Initially Pepper isn't really sure what she should do. Here's Captain America huddled in fetal position on her sofa and crying about his relationship with his husband. She has a feeling that there's so much more that Steve isn't telling her but she'll have to go with the information she does have and do her best to comfort Steve. Eventually she reaches over, taking one of Steve's hands in her own and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"It'll be okay," she reassures him, "maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow. You've gotta give it time."
"I just want my son back," he whispers miserably and he sounds so tortured.
Pepper nods silently before pushing herself off the couch. She disappears, Steve assumes to her bedroom to change, and returns in a pair of lounge pants and an oversized t-shirt.
"Have you eaten?"
"No," Steve answers and he honestly can't remember the last time he did eat.
"I'll order Chinese in a while. What's Tony been feeding you? You're- you-..."
"I know," he admits, reaching out to grab his phone from the coffee table. "You can say it; I look like hell. I can't even- I don't eat, my sleeping habits are horrible, Pep. I just feel hopeless all the time and there's nothing I can do to fix it. I have no motivation for- for anything."
"Have you tried seeing someone? Maybe a counselor?"
"I have a psychologist but she's not really helping. I've seen her three times now and every time all I do is talk about how I'm feeling and it just overwhelms me more than I already am. I actually went yesterday and I- I asked Tony to come but he wouldn't. She gave me some books to look through so I got those last night at the bookstore. I flipped through some of them this morning but they didn't help much."
A blanket of silence settles over them, the only noise coming from the clinking of the dishes as they're transferred from the sink to the dishwasher. Steve's phone vibrates in his lap and he's so anxious that he enters the wrong pass code twice before unlocking it.
Come home. We need to talk. – T
Steve replies, I can be there in a little bit.
His phone buzzes seconds later.
Bullshit, I know you're with Pep. You can be here in 30 mins. – T
"How's the puppy doing?" Pepper asks, genuinely interested.
"He's a handful but he's doing okay. I named him Toby," Steve smiles faintly. With a groan he sets his phone on the table once more, standing up, reaching for his jacket and slipping into his shoes.
"I, uh, I'm gonna head home."
"Tony texted you, didn't he?" she asks, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah," Steve admits as he gathers the rest of his things before heading for the door.
"Let me know how it goes, okay?" Pepper calls over her shoulder. "Good luck!"
"Thanks, Pepper, for everything," Steve says as he's pulling the apartment door closed.
Steve doesn't have to play the guessing game to figure out where Tony is in the tower; he's lying on the sofa with Toby when Steve comes through the door. Steve visibly tenses and doesn't trust his voice enough to say anything; he can't even look Tony in the eyes.
Tony motions to the kitchen nonchalantly, "There's pizza if you're hungry."
"You know I'm not," Steve remarks. He really isn't trying to be a bitch but it comes out sounding that way, "Let's just get this over with."
"Okay, wait, excuse me?" Tony snaps, "What the fuck did I do to you, exactly? Have you seen my face?"
Steve shakes his head, his eyes tearing up unexpectedly quickly as he heads for the bedroom. He doesn't need to feel any more regret or guilt over this entire thing than he already does.
"Steven-fucking-Stark-Rogers, get your ass back here!" Tony demands, trailing behind his husband as Toby flees the room, "I'm not finished!"
"I'm not going to stand here and take this; I'm not your punching bag, Tony," Steve snarls. He immediately realizes the poor choice of words and spins on his heel, locking eyes with his husband for the first time. Tony's left eye is almost swollen shut and it's deep purple, fading out to a darker red around the edge of the bruise.
"And I'm not yours either," Tony mutters quietly.
"I'm sorry," Steve amends, closing his eyes briefly. "I lost my temper. You can't really blame me for that."
"You've never hit me before. You've got to admit I'm reacting… somewhat appropriately."
"You didn't tell me why Peter died. You knew, you had known for over a month and you still hadn't told me."
"I didn't think you were ready to know. That's no excuse for hitting me."
"Tony, please stop it, I am sorry," Steve groans. Yes, he's begging, and maybe even whining, "You just- you were keeping that from me and what if I had gotten pregnant? I couldn't go through this twice and live to tell about it the second time."
"It wasn't easy for you to get pregnant the first time."
"That's beside the point," Steve mutters.
"What was I supposed to tell you? You were so- you're still not doing well."
Steve doesn't move, doesn't even reach up to wipe his falling tears.
"I tried telling you, okay?" Tony insists, "I tried but never- I couldn't do it. What was I supposed to say? 'Bruce thinks you're the reason Peter died?' Shit." He reaches up to his face, feeling around his eye tenderly and wincing.
"I'm sorry," Steve says once more, "I didn't mean to hit you."
"Punch," Tony so kindly reminds him. "You punched me, Steve. In the face, with your first."
"It just sort of happened," he mumbles, shrugging one shoulder and Tony has to admit Steve looks pretty apologetic.
He approaches Tony cautiously, reaching out to pull him into a hug and he's only comforted when Tony eventually returns the embrace.
"You were being an asshole, Tony. Do you even hear some of the things you say?"
"Sometimes." Tony huffs a soft breath against Steve's ear, "I'm an asshole by default. I can't help that." He pulls back slightly, pressing a tender kiss to Steve's cheek, "Go get some rest, you look like shit."
"See?" Steve asks, smiling just a little. "Did you- you said I look like shit, did you hear yourself?"
Tony smiles into Steve's skin, kissing his neck lightly, "Yeah, I did." He pulls away, hands sliding down Steve's back before he returns to his spot on the couch.
Steve is left alone again and walks toward the nursery. He opens the door quietly so that Tony doesn't hear him but he's surprised when he looks into the blue room. It's bare; everything is gone. Bare walls, bare floor, no trace of Peter or the furniture or any hint that this was ever going to be a baby's room.
Steve is back in the living room suddenly, his eyes wide with anxiety as he asks, "Where is it?"
"Where's what?"
"His stuff. Why is the nursery empty? Where are Peter's things?" Steve's voice strains with each question and he's physically trembling, "Where is it? What did you do?"
Tony sighs out before replying, "I packed it up."
"Why?" Steve demands to know, "Where is it?"
"I gave it away. I kept small box of-"
"You gave it away?" Steve asks as if it's the most unfathomable thing in the world. "What-"
"Yes, I gave it away!" Tony finally snaps, "It wasn't doing any good sitting around here! All it was doing was giving you another excuse not to move on. Peter is gone, Steve! You've got to wake up and accept that."
"But you can't give his things away like he never existed!"
"He never used them," Tony argues, and he does have a point there. "They're things we bought for him and he never used them."
"It doesn't matter; they were his!"
He stares at his husband, fingers tapping idly at his chest, "I'm just gonna say it: I get that you're depressed. But this, Steve- your level of depression is fucking terrifying."
Steve throws his hands in the air dismissively, "Yet you're not doing anything to help me."
"I'm trying to help! Jesus Christ, are you blind? I don't know what to do anymore and you won't tell me. What the hell am I supposed to do, huh?"
"Tony, you can't- you don't get to decide when I stop grieving for Peter. It's selfish of you to think you do." Steve rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands before asking, "Who picked everything up?"
"I had it dropped off at the Salvation Army down the street," Tony murmurs. As Steve turns to leave Tony adds quietly, "I don't know how much longer I can do this for."
Steve takes it as an idle threat, walking out the door without even looking back.