Despite what happened, Tony tried to fix everything. That was what he was good at, fixing and building. It hurt him, the way Steve so blatantly chose Barnes over him.

Tony stopped in his tracks. What was he thinking? There wasn't something to choose from to begin with. Tony was... Tony and Barnes was Barnes; all charming, good-looking, hot, also-a-super-soldier best friend Steve grew up with. Of course Steve was going to choose Barnes. Plus, he was his Soulmate. Which Tony was too, but—he didn't know that. Not that Tony thought it would change anything if he knew.

Tony did everything. Fixed the Accord to Ste—Rogers' liking. Fought so their crimes were pardoned. And then, he opened his Tower, again, for the Avengers.

He spotted Rhodey throwing him sad looks, but he pretended not to see them.

He was fine with it. Tony was always fine.

Tony won the lawsuit and their crimes were pardoned. They could come home, and they came back, which was relieving. It would have hurt him more if he opened his home for them and they rejected it. They apologized to him and thanked him for doing what he did. He waved them off as if it wasn't a big deal, hid behind his arrogance and humor and finally, hid in his lab. Barnes stayed in Wakanda, frozen until someone can figure how to fix him.

Steve came to apologize again, this time about what happened in Siberia. Tony told him that it was fine, and he apologized to him for attacking him and Barnes. He apologized to him for blaming Barnes—because the man wasn't there, he'll apologize to him when he meets him. Because of course Tony was the villain in this fucked up situation. You're definitely a villain if you're against the Captain America.

He tossed the shield to Rogers after he was done apologizing, and then waved him off, telling him he had a conference to attend... which was definitely not a lie.

That was that.

For a little more than two weeks, Tony lived in his lab. He only went up when everyone else was asleep. He restricted everyone's access to his lab. His only contact—if they could be counted—was his video calls with Rhodey. And Pepper.

Pathetic.

Years after his parents died, the word still followed him like a shadow.

Tony felt tired all the time. He barely slept. He barely ate. He only did the bare minimum to make sure he could function. He had a lot to make up, after all. He had to make new gears and update everyone's already existing gears.

Tony felt like he was living in limbo. Staying alive tired him, staying awake tired him. Sleeping—whenever he was able to get it, no matter how brief it was because nightmares were always close behind—was also tiring. You know you're fucked up when the thing everyone does to feel refreshed only tires you.

Tony forgot what day it was but it was raining hard. He was in his room, in the penthouse, somehow feeling too tired to get up and go to his lab. He felt too tired to do anything, so he stayed on his bed, safe and warm inside his blanket. His room was dark, which he didn't mind, but somehow that day it felt a little bit darker. He felt so alone and... lost. Tony felt lost.

It was like his mind just went blank; he didn't know what he wanted, he didn't know why his heart was aching, he didn't know what to do, he just—he just didn't know.

And then it clicked.

Tony spent his whole life hiding, and now, finally, he lost himself.

It was bound to happen.

Tony stumbled out of his bed, he felt himself starting to panic. He felt his heart pounding as he walked towards the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He fumbled with it and dialed Pepper's number.

"I'm sorry," he said before Pepper was able to say anything. "I can't do this," He choked.

"Tony?" Pepper sounded concerned, bless her. "What's going on? Are you alright? Do you want me to—"

"I need a break," Tony managed. "A month. Two weeks. A week. Anything you can give me," He said.

Pepper was silent for a few seconds. "Tony, of course you can take a break. You've been working too much, with the SI and everything going on with the Avengers, the Accord, the lawsuit—yes, you can—you should take a break," she said. "Take as much time as you can, okay? I can handle the SI."

Tony wanted to cry. Tony was crying. He wasn't making any noise, though, because the last thing he'd need was for his ex to pity him even more.

"Tony?"

Tony took a deep breath. "Okay," he whispered. "Thanks, Pep."

"Anytime, Tony," she said. "Are you okay? Do you want me to come?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Tony said. "Just really need a break, is all. I'll be going somewhere, but I'll check my email every day so just email me if there's anything, okay?"

"I got this, Tony," she said. "I can give you at least a week of completely undisturbed break."

God, Tony loved her. Loves her.

Not in the way he wanted, though.

"Thanks," he said. "Take care, Pep."

"You too, Tony."

Tony found himself in Norway. He flew to Bergen in his private jet, instructing Friday not to tell anyone. Anyone but Rhodey, because even when Tony lost himself, he still had Rhodey—he was the only one he had left.

He wasn't sure why he chose Norway, he just felt like it. It was cold, which he expected, but then he remembered that it was February. Of course it was cold.

He ignored the fact that it reminded him of Siberia.

It was already nighttime when he arrived. He rented a car and drove from the airport to the house he had rented for the rest of the year because he didn't know how long he was saying and he liked how the house looked. He had to pay extra, too, because apparently the house was already booked for later in the year, around June to August and in December, but Tony didn't mind. Money was never a problem.

Tony drove for 20 minutes to the house he rented. When he arrived, he parked the car and took his luggage out. A woman with a warm smile was standing on the porch.

"Mr. Stark," she said as she started shook his hand. "I hope your flight was alright."

"It was fine, thank you," Tony said.

She showed him around. It was a nice house, the design was very minimalistic. It has a lot of amenities and was quite big, but it was still a lot less than Tony was used to. He didn't care, though, there were more rooms than he needed.

There were always more rooms than he needed.

"The pantry is stocked," the woman-Trine Belgum said. "If you'd like, someone will continue to restock it every single week," She offered the service.

"Yes, please," Tony said.

Trine nodded. "I have prepared the contact list of services that are available," she said, handing a small notebook to him. "I hope it helps. Please contact me if you have any questions."

"Thank you, Mrs. Belgum," Tony said. "I understand that you won't be telling anyone that I am the one who's renting the place?"

"Of course, Mr. Stark!" She looked surprised.

"Thank you," Tony said.

She nodded, and with a smile she excused herself. In that instant, the house felt a little too big.

Once again, Tony was alone.

Not even bothering to unpack or change, Tony went to the living room and sat on the couch which was located in the corner. There were some pillows and neatly folded blankets. He took the one of the blanket and wrapped itself around him, feeling a little bit better when he realized that it was freshly laundered. The walls surrounding the couch were made of glass, which enabled him to see the scenery surrounding the house. Tony scooted to the end of the couch, took his shoes off and turned his back so that he was leaning at the arm rather than the backrest.

And he simply existed.

He spent the next few hours just sitting there. Breathing. Trying not to think. Staring at the darkness outside. He could see some lights from the other houses, but it was quite far. The house he rented was kind of secluded, and he liked it. It felt like a breath of fresh air compared to New York.

He liked it here. It was—it felt gloomy. The whole place, the country felt gloomy somehow, and he liked it because he fit in. It felt like his surrounding was acknowledging how he was feeling.

He was alone and the only noise heard was the sound of his breath.

Around 3 in the morning, he felt his phone vibrating. He took it out of his pocket and let out a breath of relief when he read Rhodey's name.

"You okay?" Rhodey asked.

Tony's usual response would be to joke or to make fun of Rhodey.

But he was just so, so tired; he didn't have the energy to.

"I'm fine," he said simply. "Need a break."

"Pepper told me," Rhodey said. And then they were silent. "Do you want me there?"

Yes. Please. I hate being alone.

"No," Tony said. "I need some time... alone."

"You sure?" Rhodey asked.

"Yes," Tony breathed. At that moment, he really wanted to make a joke, but he couldn't find the words.

"Okay, Tones," Rhodey said. "You can call me anytime, you know that yeah?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "Thanks."

"I gotta go," Rhodey said. "Please take care of yourself, Tony. Take a real break. Sleep a lot. Eat. Visit places. Relax," He said.

"Okay."

"I'll call again," Rhodey said. "Shit, I really gotta go," he must've covered the phone to say something to someone because his voice was muffled. "Bye, Tones," He said hurriedly, ending the call abruptly.

"Okay," Tony whispered to no one.

There was a time when he thought he was okay. Or at least, the time when he felt like he was the closest to okay. To alright. To fine.

It was a few months after the Avengers was formed, a few months after they started living with him. Pepper was still his girlfriend. He had Rhodey. He had people living with him in the tower—his team. The team that maybe, just a little bit, felt like family.

They were a band of misfits, after all. It was easier with each other.

He'd joke with Clint, discuss interesting things with Bruce, make fun of Thor, talk to Natasha. Steve would come and hang around his lab. They would joke, they would laugh, they would argue, and they would talk. Tony had found out about Steve being his Soulmate already, but it was fine. It didn't hurt as much yet because they didn't know that Bucky was alive and Siberia haven't happened.

Yet.

"Let me see," Tony said one day without looking up from what he was doing, startling Steve.

"See what?"

Tony finally looked up. "You've been sketching me."

Steve flushed. "Oh, um, yeah," he said. "I'm just practicing, and you look—I mean, you're there, so I thought why not," he said.

Tony raised his eyebrows.

Steve sighed and stood up. "It's not that great."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I just want to see," he said, taking the sketchpad Steve was holding out to him. "Besides, it's not like I'm an art critic or something-"

He stopped when he saw Steve's sketch.

"This is me?" He asked quietly.

Steve frowned. "Of course it's you, Tony."

It didn't look like him. He looked, well, beautiful. He never-he didn't-he was not beautiful.

'It doesn't look like me,' Tony thought, but he didn't say that out loud because he knew that it's not something pleasant to say to someone who had just stared at you for the past hour to sketch you.

"I don't know much about art, Cap, but your sketch is beautiful," he said instead, handing back the sketchbook.

Steve's face lit up and Tony disliked how that made his heart full.

"Thanks," he said. "Would you... do you want it? After I finish it, I mean."

Tony swallowed. "Yeah," he managed. "Sure, Cap. Sign it too so I could brag to the press that Captain America sketched me," He added.

Steve chuckled. "Sure, Tony."

Tony hated how he liked the sound of his name on Steve's lips.

No, Tony definitely did not just fall for Steve Rogers.

"Get a fucking grip," He told himself.