Chapter 9: Too Late to Turn Back

It wasn't even a big deal.

Tony had nightmares all the time; it was just another symptom of some major PTSD he'd been dealing with for years now. Steve knew this much.

And when he'd woken up to him screaming, what was he supposed to do? Shaking him awake wasn't an option. Steve knew from experience that being woken up from a nightmare was never a positive experience—Clint had tried once, and the sucker punch to his face from a completely disoriented Steve was reason enough for him to never try again.

It was clear that having Pepper beside him had made the bad nights much more bearable for Tony. Of course he was afraid to sleep alone. He needed someone there to bring him back to reality, to help him surface from the black and bottomless world in which the nightmares imprisoned him.

Steve had been there, listening to Tony's screams, knowing all too well where they were coming from. And before he knew it, he'd reached out to grab Tony's arm and slipped his hand inside his, hoping to pull him back.

The screams had quieted, his breathing had evened, and it was over.

Steve leaned against the bathroom counter, gripping the sink tightly as he stared at his reflection.

What he'd done wasn't a big deal.

It wasn't.

Tony felt split in half.

On one hand, he was relieved that someone had been there, because the darkness would have overcome him had he been alone. But on the other hand, he hated that he had been vulnerable and had even needed help in the first place, especially in the presence of Steve Rogers.

It was humiliating. No matter how much Steve might personally know about night terrors and what they're capable of, it didn't change the fact that he had seen too much already. He had seen Tony try to kill himself. He had seen the engagement ring, and the look on Tony's face when he realized Pepper had really left.

But worst of all, he had seen Tony slowly falling apart.

They had been spending way too much time together. But how could it be avoided, really? Who else did they have? Their teammates were all out of town or unavailable. Clint and Natasha had been sent overseas on a mission to overtake a drug lord, Thor wasn't even on the damn planet, and Bruce was working on his next big project down in his lab.

He hated to admit it, but since Pepper left, Steve Rogers was pretty much Tony's only friend. And "friend" was such a strange word to use when it came to Steve. Tony still wasn't sure he even liked the guy.

It hadn't been Pepper who saved him from the nightmare last night. He knew that when he woke up and saw who was sleeping next to him. The same person whose hand was still clutching his.

Somewhere very deep inside of him, he was touched. He was touched that Steve would care enough to move beyond their mutual comfort zones in such a way. There weren't many grown men that would hold the hand of another man, much less Tony Stark, in an emergency like that.

But part of him felt so uncomfortable with what had happened that he wanted to die. He wasn't an intimate person. It had taken months for him to even let Pepper hug him. Some days, his aversion to physical contact had frustrated him so much that he'd locked himself in the bathroom and cried.

Accepting someone's touch meant trusting them. Accepting someone's touch meant opening yourself up to them. And last night, he hadn't had that option.

But if he was being honest with himself, it hadn't even been an option. It had been a necessity, which Steve had immediately recognized.

There were so many things he wanted to say to him, but none of them made sense lined up next to each other.

"Don't ever touch me again."

…

"You didn't have to do that."

…

"I'm sorry."

…

"Thank you."

The first three lines he knew he was capable of saying, but the fourth would never make it past his lips.

He could barely feel gratitude, much less express it.

That's just how Tony Stark was.

Steve couldn't lie to himself. It was a big deal, in some ways.

And even if it wasn't a big deal to him, it was certainly a big deal to Tony.

Why even pretend it was any different.

What should he even say? Should he say anything at this point?

The morning had been awkward enough. Steve had woken seconds after Tony had, and he'd immediately drawn his hand away.

There had been three seconds of uncomfortable eye contact, and then he'd gotten up and walked from the room.

Tony stayed in bed all day, trying to sort out his thoughts. Steve hadn't visited. He wasn't sure Steve was even in the building.

It wasn't as if what had happened meant more than its face value. But this "friendship" they'd created was still so fragile. Any awkward encounter could break it.

Was it already broken?

Tony didn't know.

He didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like feeling like he had crossed some sort of invisible line.

Steve Rogers didn't cross lines. He respected boundaries. He respected the unwritten rules.

But didn't those boundaries cease to matter when someone was slipping away? Wasn't it more important to grab their hand before they fell?

Wasn't doing the right thing always the best option?

He had been so sure of his answer until this moment.

"Hey."

Tony looked up from his computer screen to find Steve standing in the doorway.

"Hey," he returned in as normal of a tone he could manage.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are we okay?"

Tony paused.

"Yeah."

It wasn't a lie. He knew because he didn't feel the knot in his stomach that twisted when he was less than truthful.

"I'm sorry if I… did something wrong."

Tony licked his lips, trying to think of an appropriate response.

"You didn't do anything wrong. Really. I just… You… Fuck." Tony stood up and finally met Steve's gaze. "I'm only going to say this once. You hear me?"

"Huh?" Steve's brows furrowed together in confusion.

Tony sighed and rubbed at his face. Steve waited patiently.

"Thanks," Tony finally muttered, averting his gaze to the ground.

The two stood in silence for a few seconds while Steve processed what had just been said to him. Tony could only imagine the look on his face.

"You're… welcome," Steve finally replied.

And that should have been that.

But it wasn't. Something stirred in Tony's chest when he looked back up at Steve—something about his expression caught him off guard. He chanced a glance at his blue eyes, for just a moment, and saw it. A flash of recognition.

And it was in that moment that he realized Steve wasn't looking at Tony Stark. Steve was looking at what was underneath—the little boy staring at the dead bird on the sidewalk; the teenager drowning his sorrows in endless amounts of alcohol; the grown man crying over a bad dream in a locked bathroom. The parts of himself he had tried so desperately to hide.

Tony Stark didn't say thank you. Tony Stark didn't feel gratitude, nor express it. But the man that lived behind Tony Stark's face did.

Without even realizing it, he had taken down all of his carefully constructed walls and exposed himself. He supposed it had been inevitable. The walls had been cracking for days. He had almost expected it.

But what he hadn't expected was the way Steve was looking at him. No judgment, no pity, not even surprise was on his face. All he could see was… relief. Almost as if he had been waiting for this day for a long time.

Almost as if he was saying, "It's nice to finally meet you."

It was terrifying. Tony wanted to put the wall back up. He wasn't ready.

But he knew that it was already too late to turn back.

Author's Note: Hello! After some major writers' block, I am back! This chapter didn't flow quite as smoothly as the others, but I hope the ending moment was as pivotal as I wanted it to be.

Tony has shown himself, and now things are going to be heating up...

I've planned this story sooo many chapters ahead, so check back regularly!

Please review-I love hearing from all of you!

xoxo,

magicinthemoonlight29