Whew! I'll be forthcoming here - this one was hard to write. Finding the balance between Stark snark and Stark angst is incredibly difficult. In the end, it's moreso angst than snark. Ah well. You can't win 'em all.
He wakes up every morning feeling alone.
When he falls asleep in Pepper's arms, or after having drunk himself into a stupor, he knows who and where he is. He never drops the confident, self-assured, self-obsessed facade that he wears until he sleeps. Then, all his guards are down, and the nightmares creep back in. They first started after Afghanistan, but after a few years they faded into the background. They stopped bothering him. He convinced himself that it was over; that he had overcame his fear and had left that part of his life behind him. He was wrong.
It's only been a few weeks since the Chitauri attack when the nightmares wake him again. Guns firing, men screaming as they burn. Every man that he killed stares back at him accusingly. The soldiers in the 'fun-vee' blame him for their deaths, the members of the Ten Rings... Yensin. Yensin is bleeding out and gasping for life and Tony cannot save him. He isn't good enough, or fast enough, or smart enough to save him. At least that's what he tells himself.
Even worse are the dreams when he sees the deaths that he didn't know about, but that he knows he caused. Small children fleeing his bombs, families screaming and crying as everything they know is obliterated by missiles marked Stark Industries. He wakes up sweating and panting, sometimes screaming in warning. They need to run: they need to get away from him. Because Tony knows that he destroys everything that he touches.
Sometimes when he wakes up, Pepper is next to him, Holding onto him and whispering comforts. She will press her body against his and just let him listen to the sounds of her voice, her breathing, and her heartbeat. It assures him that she's alive, and that she's there for him. Someone, at least, loves him, and he's not alone. It's a comforting feeling, one that he's not really used to quite yet. He doesn't know if he'll ever be accustomed to the idea that someone cares for him. But she's there, and she does. When he wakes up next to Pepper, he can forget the nightmares. But when she's not there, and he wakes up alone, it feels like the world is breaking underneath him.
Tony has always been alone. He's been alone for so long that it has become second nature to him. His father never cared enough to make him see otherwise. He may claim Tony as his 'greatest creation', but Tony learned long ago that actions speak louder than words. Howard can claim Tony as the son that he always loved and cared for, but he never once showed his son that. Tony may claim to be a philanthropist, but he can't ignore all of the lives that he destroyed. Sometimes people tell Tony that he's like his father. Tony disagrees. He's worse than his father ever was.
He's always been alone, as long as he can remember. His mother may have loved him, but she was too busy with one Stark to look after the other. His father certainly never loved him enough to show it. Obadiah pretended to love him before using him. People didn't love Tony Stark, they merely used him and when they were done, they left him. He learned early in life that people always leave.
He pushes people away, too, before they get the chance to leave. Before they get the chance to hurt him. He pushes slowly but surely, testing their limits to withstand him until they break. And when they break, they leave. He tells himself that it's easier that way. Because he never lets them in, and they leave before they can really, truly hurt them. More importantly, they leave before he can hurt them.
He chooses to be alone. It's easier than the alternative. Because Tony knows that he will disappoint. He knows that he's not good enough, and that's why he never let's anyone get close enough to see that. Because once they do, they'll realize that he isn't worth loving, and he isn't worth pitying. He's petty and selfish and wicked and worthless. He'll never be good enough. He'll never be smart enough. He'll never be deserving. They tell him that it's all lies, that that's only his father talking, but Tony knows they're wrong. And then he laughs it off and pokes and prods and annoys until they leave him alone again.
He wonders how he managed to get a woman like Pepper. A woman so pure and strong and good who loves him; adores him, really. Who looks past all of the shit he does and says and puts up with him because only she can truly see who he is underneath of it all. And she doesn't run. She stays with him, despite everything, because she sees him the way he really is. Broken. She just wants to fix him, and help him. She says that underneath the broken pieces, he's a beautiful man; a kind man, selfless and brave, if a little sarcastic and annoying at times. Tony doesn't agree, but he doesn't argue either. Because it feels good.
Before the team, only Pepper really saw who he was underneath the facade. But now, there seems to be someone slipping through the cracks in his mask at every turn. Bruce gets him to laugh – genuinely laugh – for the first time in what feels like years. He feels excited about his experiments for the first time in a long time when he's with his science bro; someone who speaks his language and understands him. They don't talk about the dark pasts that they both have; they don't need too. They make each other feel a little better.
Clint and Natasha get under his guard in the way that only master assassins can. They wait patiently for a small slip; a drunken comment or the fallout of a media hounding, before they pounce. They talk to him confidently and calmly, weaving their way expertly through interrogations that don't really feel like interrogations. Clint offers advice and stories from his own past. Natasha offers her own advice and helps herself to his liquor cabinet when they get drunk together. Thor gets through simply by being himself; loveable, open and caring. He doesn't push Tony, but he's always there.
Steve is a little more difficult. The two of them don't get along on the best of terms, but he tries. They talk. Steve shares stories about Howard and the war. Tony tells Steve all about his Aunt Peggy and the tales of the great Captain America that his father told him. They bond slowly, but they're trying. Everyone makes an effort to get to know the real Tony, not just the facade he wears for the rest of the world.
He wonders when the rest of them will finally crack and leave. He tests the limit of each person, toeing the line and stepping back to watch them leave. They never do. His team stays, and they endure him. So Tony never stops pushing, but he never stops hoping either. Because maybe, he's found a group of people who can withstand him. Maybe he's found a group of people who care enough about him not to leave.
Maybe he doesn't have to be alone anymore.
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