Steve didn't know what was taking so long and he was starting to get nervous. The longer Tony took getting back, the more he could think about the situation. He should've said no to Tony staying in his room for the night. He should've lied and said he'd been sleeping fine, just not in the bed, even though Jarvis could've ratted him out. But now he was sitting like a little kid, waiting for his parent to tuck him in and scare the boogeymen away. This was too much and Steve needed to be alone.
"Jarvis, could you tell Tony that I changed my mind? That he should sleep on his own floor," Steve said, waiting for the computer to respond. When he didn't get one after a few moments, he looked up. "Jarvis?" Steve couldn't remember a time when Jarvis didn't answer him before. Maybe this was a new setting, so he wouldn't be disturbed at night? He'd just have to find Tony himself and tell him to his face.
Steve slowly pulled himself up, feeling strange wandering around in what he was planning to wear as pajamas. He skipped the elevator, climbing the stairs to Tony's floor. If Tony was just going to the bathroom or taking a shower, he'd be mortified, but he couldn't turn back now.
The floor was dark and quiet when he opened the door, so Steve closed his eyes to try to listen for any signs where he might be. While he hadn't cared earlier to slam through all of the rooms to find him, he didn't have that fog of anger clouding his sense of politeness now. He heard the quiet murmur of talking down one of the halls, so he started in that direction. Steve didn't plan on eavesdropping on whatever conversation Tony was having, but he wanted to get this over with before he lost his nerve.
"I told him I'd stay in his room tonight, but I didn't think he'd say yes," Tony said, causing Steve to freeze from outside the door. Who was he telling this to? Steve hadn't said outright to keep it a secret, but he didn't think Tony would be spreading the information like this so casually.
"Of course he said yes. It's like he can't do anything without you right there, leading him along like a puppy," Natasha scoffed. Steve's breath caught in his throat. It wasn't too long ago that he was convincing Natasha to give Tony a chance and now she was here, saying these things about him. Is that what they really thought? They all acted like they wanted to help him get better, but were they just saying what they thought he wanted to hear? Had he been right all along that they didn't really care about him?
"Well, it's not like I have a choice. Shield isn't going to want the Avengers without the poster boy with us. It's all about image," Tony muttered, clanking down a heavy glass bottle. Steve could almost picture Tony right now, swirling the brown liquid around his fancy crystal, giving off an air of superiority. He felt like he was going to be sick. The one time he'd finally let himself be vulnerable, to ask for help and believe their kind words, and it hadn't been real. It had only been a means to an end.
The door suddenly swung open and he was face to face with Tony. There was only a moment of shock on his face before it split into a cocky grin. Tony knew he'd heard everything, so why bother pretending? Steve had been wrong earlier when he thought it was just Tony and Natasha in the room, because the rest of the team was in there too. Even Bruce, who'd seemed so sincere in caring about Steve's well being, was lounging in a chair, rolling his eyes when Steve's hurt pair landed on him.
"I guess the jig is up," Tony laughed, sauntering back into the center of the room. Steve was trapped in the doorway, not able to do anything but stand in shock.
"I don't understand," Steve whispered, shaking his head in denial.
"Shocker, Steve Rogers doesn't understand something. Let's just add it to the list," Tony chuckled, raising his glass in a patronizing toast.
"But, you said-"
"Oh, don't be so naive," Natasha spat, rolling her eyes. "You think we didn't know about what was going on with you this whole time? We didn't care as long as you got the job done, but now that you let Fury know how weak you are, we all have to put you back together to keep our jobs. Do you think Clint and I want to go back to doing deep undercover work all the time?"
"Not particularly," Clint snickered, stretching in his seat. "But leave it to the super soldier to ruin our cushy gig."
"I can still do my job," Steve insisted weakly, feeling his hands start to shake.
"Right, like we're supposed to put our faith in you, while you're like this," Tony sneered, waving a hand at him. "Weren't you at the top of your game when you got your best friend killed?" Steve couldn't hold back the sob that burst out in shock.
"You let your friend die for you?" Thor asked, shaking his head in disgust. "What a disgraceful leader."
"No," Steve gasped, letting himself sink down to the floor when his legs refused to hold him up any longer.
"Like you wouldn't let the same happen to us. Bucky was the only person who cared about you and you just let him fall."
"He should've been the one to live a long, happy life. You don't deserve this second chance."
"You aren't even taking advantage of your opportunity. Too busy crying on the floor."
And all Steve could do was cower with his arms over his head and weep because this was everything he'd expected to hear and now he was and he'd never wanted to be wrong more in his entire life. But then the voices changed and he risked peeking up to see why. Now, instead of the team, it was him yelling down at himself, telling him every bad thought that had passed through his mind since he moved out. Since he woke up. Since he let Bucky fall.
"You should've stayed in the ice."
"You didn't deserve the serum!"
"Did you really think the team cared about you? They could've stopped Tony anytime they wanted. Just look at the show Bruce and Natasha put on earlier. There were so many opportunities for them to do that before, but maybe they liked seeing you in pain. Maybe they liked seeing you knocked off your high horse."
"Please, stop," Steve whimpered, feeling himself break apart. He pulled himself into a ball like he had after the prank, when he believed he'd lost everything again. But the worst part was he hadn't, because he never had anything to lose to begin with.
"Steve!" Tony yelled, jolting him from his position. He wasn't on Tony's floor, he was on his own bed. Steve rolled away from the frazzled looking man, kicking at the blankets that were trapping and suffocating him. Tony was hovering at the edge of the bed, standing in front of a chair that looked like it came from his living room.
"What?" Steve gasped, trying to still his trembling body.
"You were having a nightmare," Tony said, biting his lip. He looked like he wanted to say more, but wasn't sure if he should. Steve laughed bitterly, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. Of course he had a nightmare, because since when could anything be easy. All the talking and the pain from earlier meant nothing because his mind wouldn't even let him rest.
"Guess your theory wasn't right," Steve spat, lurching off the bed and out of the room. Maybe he should turn that room into something else, because he was not planning on sleeping again.
"Wait!" Tony called after him, jogging to catch up. "Do you want to talk about it? About the nightmare, I mean?"
"Why? You wanna know what's going through my mind so you can use it against me?" Steve snapped, whirling around to face him. They were standing in front of the windows of his living room, overlooking the city. The distant glow usually soothed him during the long nights of staying awake, but now it was just a harsh glare exposing his weak spots.
"Of course not! I wouldn't do that," Tony denied.
"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure my trauma was your inspiration before," Steve shot back, needing someone else to hurt as much as he did right now. He needed to spread his pain out before it completely overtook him and rotted him from the inside out.
"Say whatever you want to say to me. I deserve it," Tony insisted. Steve groaned, wanting to shake Tony for trying to turn this into a feelings session. He wanted Tony to fight back, not roll over and take it. He wanted to bust through Tony's defenses and make him suffer, not make him a martyr.
"Don't do that. Don't treat me like I'm weak!" Steve shouted, raking his hands through his hair. "You wouldn't sit back and take it from anyone else."
"But you're not anyone else. We're not anyone else," Tony said firmly.
"Why not? Why can't we be?" Steve asked.
"We never let ourselves," Tony sighed, sagging against the arm of the couch. "Natasha and I can be the biggest dicks in the world to each other and it doesn't matter, because our history is different. With you, too much has happened."
"Why should I even stay here if this whole relationship is going to be fake? What's the point of trying?"
"That's not what I'm saying."
"Just be honest!"
"I'm scared, okay!" Tony yelled, startling Steve into silence. "I'm scared I'm going to say the wrong thing and hurt you even worse! I'm scared I'm not doing enough to help you and I'm scared I'm doing too much and smothering you. I never know what to do and I never know what to say. And I don't know how to deal with that because words are my power, but they're also my weapon and I feel like every time I open my mouth I'm going to blow another part of your life up. Sometimes I just want to shake you and force you to tell me what it is you need, but I know that's not fair. It's not up to you to make it easy for me, but I wish on everything that I knew how to make things easier for you."
Steve didn't know what to say to all that, so he didn't say anything. He walked over to his usual spot on the floor, resting his forehead on the glass. Steve had been fooling himself earlier when he thought the hardest part was over, when he finally asked for help. He didn't realize it would only get harder from there. Tony moved up to sit next to him, keeping his distance.
"I thought I had a good day today, you know? But then I had that dream and it makes me think that it's my mind's way of telling me I'd been right all along, that trying to form connections and live in this time isn't what I'm supposed to do. And I know how wrong that sounds when I say it out loud, but what if it's true? I have to be doing something wrong for this to keep happening," Steve said quietly, watching his breath fog up the window.
"Maybe you should talk to someone?" Tony suggested hesitantly.
"I thought that was what I was doing right now," Steve ground out, just waiting for Tony to say the words he was skirting around. He thought he was crazy. Tony thought he needed to be strapped down in the crazy house until he could be fixed enough to live amongst the normal people again.
"Someone better than me," Tony clarified, mirroring Steve's positioning against the window.
"You think I'm crazy," Steve huffed, shaking his head. "I haven't said anything that isn't true."
"I don't think you're crazy. I think you're the strongest person I've ever met to go through what you've gone through and still do what you've done. But even the strongest people need help sometimes and I don't think I'm the one who can right now," Tony insisted.
"Why not you?" Steve whispered, closing his eyes to keep them from watering.
"Because I'm the one who hurt you."
They didn't say anything after that, just sat next to each other and watched the sky go from dark to light. Steve tried to consider what Tony suggested, but he couldn't fathom going to a stranger and spilling his guts to them. There was no one on earth who could understand what he was going through. If he went to Shield for help, they'd never trust him again. They'd know he was out fighting at less than 100% and never have faith that he was healthy enough to depend on. Shield already knew too much, after his last weeklong stay in the infirmary, but it was easier to prove physical strength than mental.
But would it be fair to anyone if Steve tried to go back to being Captain America while he was like this? Hadn't the last two missions proven that he wasn't what he needed to be? Was him being stubborn about getting help the thing that would destroy everything once and for all? Was he subconsciously trying to fail so he could prove himself right?
There were too many questions and he couldn't answer them himself. And who could he ask? He didn't think the team would be honest if he asked them. If how they acted today was truly how they felt, they wouldn't say anything negative to him if they thought it would hurt him. Steve was too tired to make a decision he couldn't come back from.
"I can't," Steve murmured as the glare of the sun shined on his face. He didn't need to clarify. It was just an all encompassing inability to do anything. Anything of substance. Anything that mattered.
"That's okay. You have time." Tony whispered, tilting his head to look over at him.
"Do I?" Steve asked, gripping his legs close to his chest. How many times would he go through this in his life? What if when he finally accepted his place here in this time, with these people, it was all ripped away from him again? Was this a never ending cycle that he'd have to keep living through? Would it get easier the more it happened? He didn't think he wanted it to get easier, because that would mean he had truly given up.
"You do. I swear on everything I have that I won't let you be lost again. I'll stick a tracker on you before I ever let that happen," Tony insisted, pounding his fist on the ground in emphasis. "Howard may have been smart, but I'm smarter. I have more tenacity in my little finger than he could even fathom. So when I say I will fight until my dying breath for all of you, I mean it. I'll find a way to put us all in cryostasis if it means you won't ever be alone again, I promise."
"Are you sure?" Steve asked, needing to hear more of those fancy words from Tony. Those words that could convince anyone.
"Name something that Captain America and Iron Man haven't been able to accomplish when they work together," Tony challenged.
"Being friends," Steve answered, closing his eyes in resignation. They'd fought aliens and monsters and everything else, but when it came down to the bare bones of it all, they couldn't even coexist.
"Jesus, if you're trying to make me cry, it's working," Tony muttered. Steve snorted, because the idea of Tony crying over something like this was laughable. "Can I tell you a story?"
"I guess," Steve sighed, not really expecting anything life changing at this point. Maybe this would help Tony's last bit of determination fizzle out and he'd leave him alone.
"After my parents died, I kind of shut down," Tony started. Steve's eyes snapped open to look at him, because that wasn't what he was expecting to hear. "To the people who didn't know me, I looked like I was dealing because I threw myself into work and everything, but obviously it was to avoid how I was feeling. In my personal life, I was shutting down. I could barely eat or sleep or do anything, because I had to save all my energy for putting on the Tony Stark show. Does that sound familiar?"
"A bit," Steve admitted.
"I finally let something slip to my pal Rhodey, and he gave me some advice. Not everything needs to be fixed at once. If you focus on needing everything to be perfect, it gets overwhelming and it's so easy to give up. So he told me to start small. To set one goal for myself for that day. And not something like mourn properly or become a healthy person. You wanna know what my first goal was?"
"What?"
"Taking a walk in the park. When I wasn't taking a car to and from buildings, I was surrounded by walls. I hadn't taken a breath of fresh air in weeks and didn't even realize it. So that's what I did. I took a walk that lasted probably five minutes, but that was more than I'd given myself in so long. So then I kept setting little goals like that for myself. Watching a TV show, going to a restaurant, working on a project I actually enjoyed. And after a while, I didn't even have to think before I started doing those things. It didn't make everything better, but I stopped making things harder. What's something you've done that's just been for you? Not something you thought you had to or for the team?"
"I took a hot shower yesterday," Steve remembered with a little smile.
"Shit, okay," Tony said, rubbing at his eyes when his voice cracked a little. He probably realized what that meant about Steve without him having to say it all. "That's good, that's a good goal. And if you wanted, that could be your only goal for the day. But you could also make another one after that. There are no rules to this, just take it one at a time. And if you wanted, I'm sure any one of us would help you with it."
"I wouldn't mind another one of those showers," Steve confessed, imagining the feel of the warmth seeping into his body. Like he'd never be cold again.
"I'll get out of your hair so you can go do that," Tony said, carefully unfolding himself from the position he'd been in all night on the floor. Tony really had sat with him all night in an uncomfortable position without a single complaint. That had to mean something, right? People didn't do that for just anyone.
"Thank you," Steve whispered, staying on the floor for a bit longer. He still wanted to do a little more thinking before he began his day.
"I'll be on my floor, or around somewhere, I'm not sure. Just ask Jarvis if you need something," Tony said, slowly walking backward toward the elevator. Steve nodded in acknowledgement, relieved for the moment at the idea of being alone.
Tony's idea sounded so simple when he explained it, but Steve was worried it was too easy. Would letting himself take a shower and then doing something else just for him really make a difference? He'd indulged so much yesterday, but had been immediately beaten back down by his nightmare. But maybe that was the point. If he went into everyday thinking if he just made the right moves that everything else would fall into place, he was setting himself up for failure every time. If he took it one action at a time and let that be the success, everything else might start feeling a bit more bearable. And it wasn't like anything he'd tried had been working so far.
He'd been desperate before for someone to come in and tell him exactly what to do to get better. Bruce's warning about relying on Tony too much still rang in his ears, but Tony had given him the idea and left, instead of hovering and holding his hand through it. Even though the plan had come from someone else, it was still up to him to execute it. But could he? He didn't know if he remembered how to live.
Steve stood up with determination, striding as confidently as he could toward the bathroom. He was going to give this a shot. He was going to take that shower, for as long as he wanted, and not worry about what came next. That was the point, right? To accomplish one goal at a time and then give yourself some grace? Steve hadn't done that in a long time, but he could try. The only person stopping him was himself.