Finally getting around to re-posting this! :)


Disclaimer (though I would argue it's somewhat unnecessary): I do not own the Avengers, Iron Man, Captain America, the Incredible Hulk, or any other related recognizable characters and/or properties contained within. All rights go to Marvel Comics, Marvel Studios, and any other interested third party (I don't think I could name them all.) This work contains lines from the Avengers (2012) and draws inspiration and plot points from Iron Man vol. 1 #182 and #311, Iron Man vol. 3 #7, Captain America vol. 3 #8, Quicksilver vol. 1 #10, and The Avengers vol. 3 #7.

The title of this fic comes from the LINKIN PARK song "Breaking the Habit". All credit goes to LINKIN PARK.

This fic is rated M, but not for sexual reasons (yes, I know you're disappointed.) It contains ideologically sensitive material, mentions of past domestic violence, and deals strongly with the issue of alcoholism. This is the only warning you are going to get for these topics. If any of this bothers you, DO NOT READ THIS FIC. Finally, this fic depicts relationships that do not comply with cannon have an ideological, moral, or otherwise bigoted opinion about. If you do not like the Steve/Tony pairing or are turned off by the other disclaimers, please do not read this fic. Death threats will be taken seriously.

Finally, I do not consent to my works being hosted on any unofficial app, particularly ones with ad revenue and subscription services. You should only be able to read this on FFN and AO3. Nowhere else. If you see my stories being hosted on a third-party application, report it to iTunes or the Google Play Store immediately.


Saturday, February 4th, 2012

Midtown, Manhattan, New York City, New York

Clint woke up the next morning (really afternoon, but he hadn't bothered to look at a clock) he found that everything had been cleaned up and everyone was gone. The only evidence that other people had been in the room were the extra blankets spread across him that he didn't recognize Once he was fully awake, he got on the phone and started texting someone else.

As much as Clint was touched by the warm welcome home the other Avengers had given him and Natasha, what he had really wanted to do was call Laura. He had promised her the last time they talked on the phone that he would video-call her as soon as he was able. However, the celebration had pushed that to the side, but Clint wasn't mad about that. He just wanted to talk to his wife.

Me: hey can u get online o/ now a bad time?

To his surprise, she texted back rather quickly.

Laura: Yes! Just give me a few minutes to set up the computer.

Clint smiled.

Me: ill be patently waiting! (kissy face emoji)

After sending that message, Clint got up and went across the room to get his laptop. His sudden movement caught the attention of the puppy, who immediately ran over to him, crying for pets. Clint picked him up and set him back down on the bed while he went and got his laptop. That way the dog wouldn't be begging through the entirety of his call with Laura.

Clint sat back down on the bed, booted up the computer, and waited for the video chat software to launch. While he did that, he got another text from Laura.

Laura: Is the line secure enough for the chicks to come on? They'd be relieved to see you.

Clint didn't hesitate in his reply, to the point where he accidentally hit a few wrong keys without noticing.

Me: yesplz! I wanto see them (heart emoji)!

Laura: They'll be glad to hear that! (laughing emoji)

It took another few minute for the program to show that Laura was online. When the green dot appeared next to her name, Clint clicked on it to set up the connection. The little wheel spun and spun for what felt like forever until it was replaced with an image of Laura sitting with Lila in her lap and Cooper standing beside them. The kids' faces lit up as soon as they saw him.

"Daddy!" Lila exclaimed right away while Cooper rapidly waved his hand.

"Hi Dad!" he shouted cheerfully. Laura laughed.

"Hey kids," Clint said. "How are you doing?"

"Good," Lila said.

"Dad, Dad!" Cooper said. "I lost my bottom tooth!" Cooper pulled down his bottom lip to show him and Clint played up his astonishment.

"You did?" he said. "Wow! That's the one that's been wiggling for the past couple of weeks, right?"

"Yup!" Cooper exclaimed.

"Wow," Clint said. "I bet the tooth fairy gave you something nice for that."

"A dollar and a quarter," Cooper said proudly.

"A dollar and a quarter?" Clint repeated. "Wow, the tooth fairy must have been feeling pretty generous." Laura nodded.

"Can you tell Daddy why the tooth fairy gave you the extra quarter?" she asked Cooper.

"Because I did a really good job in school and Miss Riley wrote on my report card that I'm a delight to have in class." Clint raised his eyebrows.

"Really?" Cooper excitedly nodded. "That's awesome, bud!"

"The tooth fairy thought so, too," Laura said. "And what do you say to her?" Cooper clasped his hands together like he was praying and looked up at the ceiling.

"Thank you, tooth fairy!" he exclaimed, much to Clint and Laura's amusement.

"I'm sure she knows how much you appreciate it," Clint said. "Just be sure not to spend all that money in one place Mr. Richie Rich."

"I won't," Cooper assured. Meanwhile, Clint took notice that Lila was squirming about, as if straining to look at something.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked.

"Where's a puppy?" Clint raised his eyebrows and Laura smiled.

"I told them," she said. "I didn't think it was a secret I could sit on for very long."

"Where's a puppy?" Lila asked again.

"Yeah, Dad, where is he?"

Clint scooped up the puppy from where he was curled up next to him.

"This is him," he said as he pulled the puppy in front of the camera so he could be in the shot with him. The dog's appearance was met with a lot of fanfare.

"Yay!" Lila cheered while waving. "Hi, puppy!"

"What's his name?" Cooper asked.

"That's the thing," Clint said. "I haven't picked one out yet."

"You haven't?" Cooper questioned. Clint shook his head.

"Nope," he said. "I thought I had a good one, but the more I thought about it, the less I liked it."

"What was it?" Cooper asked.

"Arrow." Both kids made faces of disgust and disappointment.

"Yeah, that's not a good name." Cooper said.

"No good, Daddy!" Lila chastised.

"Well, I know that now," Clint said.

"Hey, Dad, what's wrong with the puppy's leg?" Clint was unphased. He'd been expecting that question.

"He doesn't have one," he said. "He was born without it."

"You know," Laura said. "Like how Uncle Nick was born without an eye.

"Oh," both children said in understanding.

Clint didn't know how Fury lost his eye, but when he came over to the house after Lila was born, Cooper wouldn't stop asking about it. So, to shut him up before he said something impolite, Clint told Cooper that he just wasn't born with one and that it happens to people sometimes. Cooper understood as well as any four-year-old could and thankfully didn't press it further. (It didn't stop him from asking Fury if it meant that he hand his dad worked as pirates, to which Fury humored him.) Because of that, both children understood that sort of disability, so that saved them an explanation.

"Can he walk?" Cooper asked.

"Yes," Clint said. "But it looks a little more like hopping."

"Ooo, Hopper!" Cooper exclaimed. "Can that be his name?" Laura smiled as to set him down gently.

"That's a nice name, sweetie," she said. "But I think it's better suited to a rabbit than a dog."

"Or a frog," Clint added. Cooper frowned and Laura rubbed his shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry," she said. "I'm sure you'll think of another one."

"What about Lilly?" Lila asked.

"He's a boy dog," Clint pointed out.

"So?" Lila questioned.

"So, he needs a boy's name." Lila's face scrunched.

"But why?" Clint had to try hard not to laugh.

"Because he's a dog," he said. "The rules for naming people are a little bit different, but for dogs you've got to stick to the traditional boy-girl names." Lila frowned in disappointment at her rejection, but at the same time Cooper seemed to recover from his.

"What's his dad's name?" he asked.

"I don't know," Clint said. "I just found him on the street. I didn't get to meet his parents."

"So, he's an orphan?" Cooper asked. "Like you and Mom?"

"I guess so," Clint said.

"And we're going to give him lots of love because of that," Laura said. "He's a very lucky boy adopted into this family." Cooper's face lit right up.

"What about Lucky?" he asked. "Is that a good name?" Clint raised his eyebrows.

"I did find him eating out of a Lucky's Pizza box," he remarked.

"Lucky Pizza Dog!" Lila exclaimed.

"Lucky the Pizza Dog," Cooper said. "That's a good name, right?" Laura looked up at the camera, smiling and shrugging.

"I don't see a problem with it," she said.

"I think that's an awesome name." Clint turned his gaze to the puppy. "From now on, you're Lucky. Do you think you can remember that?" The dog wagged his tail, which was the best response that Clint was going to get. "I think he likes it."

"I think so, too," Laura said. Clint looked back at the screen and his heart was warmed by the radiant smile she was giving him.

"And how's my favorite lady doing?" Laura chuckled.

"Better," she said. "Now that I can see that you're actually okay."

"Yeah," Clint said with a note of sorrow in his voice.

"I'm fine," Laura assured. "I just care that you're healing and safe."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that right now," Clint said. "I'm safe and I'm feeling much better." Laura smiled.

"I'm glad," she said.

"Oh, Daddy, Daddy!" Lila exclaimed. "I painted you something!"

"You did?" Clint said.

"Yeah," Lila said. "I painted you something, so you'd feel better!"

"Well, I'd love to see it," Clint said.

"Where did you leave it?" Laura asked.

"You said it had to dry," Lila said.

"Oh, right," Laura said. "I put it on that rack in the kitchen so it could. Do you think you can go get it?"

"Yeah!" Lila nodded as she squirmed out of her mother's arms and onto the floor. Laura tapped Cooper's shoulder.

"Why don't you help your sister?" she asked him.

"Okay, Mom." The kids then scurried out of the room, leaving Clint and Laura alone on the video call.

"So," Clint said. "Hey there, beautiful." Laura smiled.

"Hey, yourself," Laura said. "So, how are you really feeling?"

"Just generally run-down," Clint said. "But I've been breathing just fine and I don't feel otherwise sick, so I'd say that I'm on the road to recovery."

"That's good," Laura said.

"I'm still sorry for making you worry," Laura sighed.

"I'm always going to worry." A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Having you and the kids, though, makes it worth it."

"Even if I'm a bit impulsive?" Clint asked.

"Even if you're a bit impulsive," Laura agreed. Clint smiled.

"I'm glad," he said. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Shortly after that, the kids came back into the room. Lila carried a mostly-dry watercolor painting and after scrambling back into her mother's lap, she held it up to the camera to show her father. It was largely an incomprehensible mish-mash of colors, but Lila claimed it was a pony and a puppy going on an adventure in an enchanted forest. Clint still praised her on what a good job she did and Lila beamed proudly at the fact that she was able to make him feel better.

They stayed on the call for a while. The kids told him about what they did at school and daycare, and Clint assured them all once again that he was feeling much better. By the time it came to say goodbye, Clint really did feel better. He was glad to see that his family was safe and healthy, and he knew it was the same for them. His mind was eased ten-fold.

Once the call was over, Clint set the computer down on his nightstand and pulled out his phone to text Natasha. He told her he was awake and asked for something to eat. Then, all he had to do was wait and hope that she wouldn't be too mad that he had gotten out of bed.


Sunday,

February 5th, 2012

Steve watched with a frown as Tony dragged his spoon around for another lap through his bowl of soup. Tony hadn't eaten much; not then nor at any other point during the weekend. The last real meal Steve could remember him eating was the pizza at Clint's welcome home "party" the other day, and he wasn't sure how much he'd consider that a meal. (Although it had been better than Steve had been expecting, it still tasted mostly of sugar and grease, which made him want nothing but very plain food until dinner the next day.) The most he could recall Tony eating was a bag of chips at some point and that was it. He had no luck in trying to get him to eat at the table the night before, but tonight, Steve wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Starting Saturday morning, Tony isolated himself a bit. It wasn't like he was entirely shutting the world out – he would respond if Steve tried to talk to him and was just as talkative as usual – but he spent most of his time either working on the MK13 armor in its assembly station or in his office continually opening a file on his computer and closing it again. Only in the past hour had he really seemed depressed. Well, outside of his lack of a desire to eat. It took a bit of convincing, but Steve got Tony to sit down and have dinner with him.

Despite promising that he would eat, Tony had mostly just sat there lethargically stirring his soup. It was really starting to concern Steve. He didn't know what was wrong with him or how he could help. It made him feel kind of useless and sadly, that was a feeling he was becoming well-acquainted with.

Although he had assured Tony that he was there for him – and he really, truly was – he had no idea what he could really do. Tony needed help, but Steve didn't know what kind that exactly was. He thought briefly that maybe Tony needed to see a doctor, but his personal stigma against mental health care made him worry. He didn't want Tony to get hurt, but he couldn't let him continue as he was. It left him with absolutely no idea as to what to do. All he could do was look at Tony and wish he could do something.

Eventually, Tony noticed this.

"You know," he said. "Normally I wouldn't mind you staring at me, but you have this look on your face that clearly says something's wrong." Steve bowed his head.

"I'm sorry." Tony reached out and put a hand on top of his.

"It's okay," he said. "Just say what's on your mind." Steve shook his head and looked back up at him.

"Just worrying is all." Tony frowned and pulled his hand back.

"You don't need to worry," he said. "I'm fine." As those last two words left his mouth, Tony's face scrunched like he just tasted something sour. That told Steve all he needed to know.

"You're not."

"I'm not," Tony agreed. "I know I'm not. At this point, it's just an automatic response." Steve nodded.

"It's okay," he said.

"Yeah," Tony said. "I just wish I didn't do that."

"I know what you mean," Steve remarked. "You're not hungry, though?" Tony shrugged.

"I don't know," he said.

"You've barely touched your soup," Steve pointed out. "And I haven't seen you eat much at all this weekend."

"I had pizza," Tony tried to argue.

"Two days ago," Steve countered. "And not much else since." Tony sighed in defeat.

"I almost hate how observant you are," he remarked.

"You need to eat," Steve stressed.

"I would," Tony said. "If the idea of eating didn't make me sick." Steve's eyebrows raised in alarm and he searched the room for an empty bowl or a bucket.

"Do you feel like you're going to throw up right this minute?" Tony shook his head.

"No," he said. "It's not like that."

"Then what's it like?" Tony balled up a fist and pressed it against his forehead.

"It's more that my stomach feels painful and the pain will get worse if I try to eat something," Tony said. "I don't think I'm going to throw up." Steve relaxed as soon as he said that.

"Good, good." He then got up and went around the table to Tony's side and put a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Honey, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling good?" Tony shrugged.

"Because it's more than just my stomach." Gently, Steve pushed Tony's fist out of the way to press a hand against his forehead. "I don't feel hot."

"It doesn't hurt to check." Pressing both his palm and the back of his hand against Tony's forehead, Steve didn't feel anything unusual. "Well, you don't feel hot, but you certainly look it." That earned a small laugh from Tony.

"Could you be any cornier?"

"It got you to smile, didn't it?" Tony nodded, but slowly the smile started to fade from his lips. "Alright, if you don't have a fever, what's wrong? Headache?"

"A bit," Tony said. "It's just… I don't know."

"What?" Tony hesitated a moment.

"I… Have you ever felt like you're stuck in a hamster wheel?"

"A what?" Steve questioned.

"You know," Tony said. "The metal wheel that hamsters and mice and rats run around in? Did they not have those in the '40s?"

"I don't know," Steve said. "I never had a hamster."

"Then I guess a more apt description would be like running on a treadmill, ironically enough," Tony said. "You're running as fast as you can, trying to reach a certain goal, but really…"

"You're really just in the same place?" Tony's eyes widened, surprised that Steve was able to catch on so easily.

"Yes!" he said. "Exactly! Only it doesn't even feel like I have a clear goal. I'm running just to… Run and that's fine if you know where you're going…"

"But the thing is you're not going anywhere so you feel like there's no point," Steve continued. "Or, not one that makes sense." Tony's expression slowly transitioned from one of excitement to one of unease.

"Alright," he said. "Now I think you're getting this a little too well." Steve sighed and placed his hand on top of Tony's.

"I want to help you, Tony," he said. "I really do. I just don't know how. A soft look came across Tony's face as he flipped his hand around to clasp Steve's.

"You are helping me," he said. "Just by being here, you're helping me." Steve looked down, slightly frowning.

"Really?" he asked. "Because that doesn't feel like it's helping much." Tony rubbed his thumb against the back of Steve's hand.

"I know," Tony said. "But the problem is that for once, I don't know what to do." Steve raised an eyebrow. "I know, shocking, right?"

"That you'd admit it aloud? Yeah." Tony's lips quirked up.

"Only for you." Okay, Steve couldn't resist. He had to kiss him for that. Pulling back, he pressed his forehead against Tony's.

"I'm flattered," he said. "And I'm glad to know I'm not alone in this boat."

"Me, too," Tony said. "I mean, the only thing that I know to do is stay away from alcohol and yeah, it's hard, but so far I've managed it. Otherwise, I'm completely clueless and I hate it. I want to make it all go away, but…" Steve pressed his free hand against Tony's cheek.

"Believe me," he said. "If I could solve all your problems with the push of a button, I would."

"Same here," Tony said. "All I want is to feel good again, but I don't know how to do that."

"Have you talked to anyone about this other than me?" Steve asked.

"Rhodey," Tony said. "But you already know that. Besides, there's only so much he can do from California."

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "I only asked because I thought someone else might have an idea."

"No one has any ideas," Tony lamented. "The situation is impossible."

"Hey, hey, hey," Steve said. "Don't say that. Nothing is impossible."

"Is this going to turn into one of your inspirational speeches, Cap?" Steve sighed.

"I'm just saying that a few months ago, we saw aliens invading from a portal in the sky. The impossible is very much possible."

"Then why has everything felt impossible since then?" Steve looked down.

"I don't know," Steve said. "For me it feels like it's been longer than that."

"How long?" Tony asked.

"Forever."

Steve's answer hung in the air for a long time. Tony seemed like he was shocked into silence for a bit, and honestly Steve couldn't blame him. Every day it got harder to remember a time where he wasn't anxious, worried about someone else, mourning, or just plain felt lost and out of place. Although, yes, he could remember plenty of times he was happy, as he went through his memories to more recent times, those moments were fewer and father between.

Tony would be the exception, but to be honest, most of Steve's worries stemmed from him. Everything from his sexuality and mental health to his recent actions and alcoholism worried Steve, but somehow, it was worth it. Being with Tony… Falling for someone who made him feel as good as he did was worth it. Even if he didn't feel a hundred-percent happy at the time, the bits that Tony gave him meant everything. That was why he wanted to help him so bad. He wanted to be able to give back every bit of happiness that Tony gave him. He wanted him to feel happy, safe, and well…

Loved.

Steve wasn't going to acknowledge it or say it aloud. At least, not in that moment, but…

Damn.

Tony, meanwhile, gently put his hands on either side of Steve's face. Looking into Tony's eyes, he was surprised by how watery they had become.

"It won't be forever," he said. "I won't let it."

"I know," Steve said. "It's not forever – past or future – it just…"

"Feels that way?" Steve felt the same spark of excitement that Tony exhibited before. He quickly said "yes." "Yeah, it feels like that and you know it's wrong, but you can't stop. You want it to, desperately, but it's like nothing is enough." Steve felt something inside him break.

"There has to be something, though," Steve said. "Something I'm not seeing. Something you're not seeing. Just… Something." Tony frowned.

"I've been trying," he said. "I really have."

"I know," Steve said. "And I'm proud of you." Tony's lips quirked upwards.

"You mean it?" Steve smiled.

"I do." He then leaned in and pressed a kiss to Tony's cheek. "Whatever it is we need to do to figure this out, I promise you we'll do it together. Okay?"

"Okay." With one last kiss, the two of them pulled back. Steve spared a glance at their food, which had since gone cold.

"Do you really feel like you can't eat?" Tony nodded.

"Sorry." Steve sighed before standing up.

"I'm sure we have some crackers in a cabinet somewhere. Do you think your stomach can handle that?" Tony shrugged.

"Probably not," Steve frowned.

"You need to eat." Tony looked down.

"I know," he said.

"You're going to make yourself worse if you don't."

"I know!" Tony looked shocked at his own outburst. He took a deep breath. "I'll eat," he assured. "I'll eat. Just don't worry." Steve put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay." Tony nodded and wrapped his fingers around his wrist. "Why don't we do something else until you're ready to eat."

"Like what?" Tony asked.

"Why don't we watch that show you like?" Steve asked. "The one with the rude, screaming, cardboard kids."

"South Park?" Tony practically laughed out. "You hate that show."

"I don't hate it." Tony gave Steve a disbelieving look. "Okay, I think it's obnoxious, but you like it."

"And you're willing to make that sacrifice for me?" Steve snorted.

"It's just a show," he said.

"Nah, nah, it's…" Tony let out a bit of a laugh. "Actually, that sounds good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Steve nodded and offered Tony a hand up, which he took.

"Why don't you get settled on the couch? I'll take care of this." Steve gestured to their uneaten food and Tony gave him a quizzical look.

"You're not going to finish your food?" Steve shrugged.

"It's cold by now," he said. "And I don't really want to reheat it. I'll make a sandwich." Tony nodded.

"Okay." He leaned up to press a kiss to Steve's cheek. "And Steve? Thanks."

Steve then watched as Tony turned and headed out of the room, smile gleaming on his face.

Anything for you, honey.


So, yeah you're probably thinking "Hey, haven't I seen this before?" Well, you're right because you have. This is the same Live to Rise, just edited to remove certain plot points. Before anyone freaks out, please know that the original version of this story is still available on AO3 under the title Live to Rise (First Draft). I deleted that version off of FFN to prevent confusion. That being said, I should probably explain why I discontinued the original story and have started to post this one.

Well, first I should say that I couldn't keep writing it. Literally, I could not keep writing it. Yeah, apparently when you start approaching five-hundred pages and over two-hundred thousand words, Microsoft Word starts acting funky. It was apparent that I couldn't keep the whole story together - at least in my personal records - and wanting everything to be uniform I decided to break it up and republish it in the same manner I have on my computer.

The second reason is just that I wanted to drop the cult plotline. I wasn't feeling any inspiration for it and honestly, I just felt like it was dragging out a story that had already reached its natural conclusion. If anyone's upset about that, like I said, you can still read the first draft on AO3. Otherwise, there's not much I can tell you.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story, even though it's just a rehash of what you've already seen. Be sure to review, favorite, leave kudos, and/or whatever else is appropriate for the site you're reading this on.

Remember kids, when all else fails, just copy and paste the author's note from Live to Rise.


Published to FFN on 10/16/22.