I Need a Hero

Steve woke unsteadily, instinctively flinching away from the presence and the hands coming near him. "Doh-! No, plea-!"

"Hey, hey, easy," Bruce soothed, pressing gentle hands to his shoulders to ease him back to the pillows. "Just breathe, okay? You've got to be relaxed, Steve. That asthma attack took a lot of you… And the fever, and the malnourishment and the hypothermia…" He whispered.

"Wh-wh…? Tony?" He stammered, coughing.

"Shh, he's outside, waiting for awhile. Just until I've done what I can to help you, alright? Just shut your eyes and rest."

"Can-can you f-fix me?" He wheezed, eyes hopeful and praying and Bruce understood he didn't mean his broken ribs and arm.

"I don't know," Bruce said truthfully, watching his already battered face and eyes fall. "I'm gonna try. Tony and I, we'll, we'll find a way, okay? Even if it's just for your health. I promise." He pressed a glass to his lips, tilting water down his throat to soothe him just a bit and open his airways. "Now rest. Tony'll be here when you wake up."

His breath stuttered, nodding through the hitch in his chest. He felt his eyes fall shut, drug-induced unconsciousness dragging him into the darkness. "Shh," Bruce soothed. "Just rest now. Just rest. It's alright now. You're safe."

Tony's back was pressed against the wall beside the door. Steve was somewhere in the room at his back, barely breathing, barely alive. He swallowed through the thick lump in his throat, tears sliding silently down his cheeks.

Footsteps clicked up to him, a face caught in his peripherals when they knelt beside him, acres of orange hair joining the mix. "Tony." He didn't look at her, knowing her tone, knowing what her eyes are going to say when he does. "You need to eat something," Pepper said gently, pushing something into his hand.

"I'm not hungry," he said, trying to sound stronger than he was.

"I don't care," she said, soft but firm. "You need to eat."

"Okay," he nodded, agreeing with her in hopes she'd leave him alone.

"Tony-"

"Shouldn't we be talking about keeping this from the press and as far away from the media as possible and not my fucking diet?" He croaked, unsure if he was still crying or not. "This gets spread on the front of People and he'll be…he'll be so humiliated."

Pepper nodded, defeated. "I'll make sure it stays quiet."

"Thank you," he whispered. She patted his knee, knowing she couldn't comfort him like she used to. The only person that could in the other room.

Tony leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed, remembering.

"Hey," Tony stepped out onto the balcony, staring at Steve's back. His heart was thudding, palms sweating, mouth dry in an instant. That always happened when he got close to him. He was in like, not quite love, with the Captain, he knew that. But how do you tell a man raised in a time so long ago how you feel? People were killed for that back then and…

And there was no way this man, this incredible man, would ever reciprocate feeling, let alone accept them.

"Stark," Steve said, still facing out into the city. Tony leaned against the rail, standing beside him.

"Everything okay?" He asked, mildly concerned, tone casual. Steve glanced at him, eyes bright in the semi-darkness, all blond and chiseled, wrapped in plaid and khaki.

Fucking gorgeous, Tony thought, hiding his swoon.

"No," Steve finally said, giving a half-hearted dimpled grin. Fuck..."I'm not okay, I'm really not." Tony frowned.

"You wanna talk about it?" He ventured, smiling a little, causal without accusation. Steve cleared his throat, folding his lips.

"There's, um, I've met someone."

In an instant, one little sentence, his heart wilted, wrung out and bruised. He hid it seamlessly, of course, nodding, pretending.

"…And, um," Steve continued, "I really like them. But I don't think they'd ever think of me that way. I'm confused, and nervous, and I don't know what to do." He ended quietly, blushing and fighting not to, embarrassed.

Tony chuckled, still composed and giving away nothing. "You've got nothing to be worried about, Captain. Your face alone is enough, trust me." He downed the rest of the drink in his hand, drumming the crystal nervously. "Any girl would be lucky to have you."

Steve was silent, looking at his hands. Chewing his lips again. "Stark, it…that's the thing. It's not a girl."

God damn it! Are you fucking kidding me?! Tony's expression faltered just a little, even more wounded than before. "I…I didn't know you were…" He offered, careful.

"I didn't think I was either and that…that's why I'm so confused. And why I know nothing's gonna come from it." He glanced at him, laughing ruefully. "I don't know why I told you that." Tony shrugged, his chest twisting and gnarled. Agonized.

"Who am I gonna tell?" He chuckled. Steve was silent still, eyes down. "Okay, well, I'm sure you can tell whoever it is, whether you're confused or not. I'm sure they'll be okay with it. They'll help you figure stuff out. People are a lot better about that now, even if they don't feel the same way. And hell, if they don't, I will," he assured, giving his shoulder a pat. Silence lapsed between them again. "So who is it? Barista? Guy at the gym? Cashier, what?" He grinned. Steve was red, blushing from neck to pinna, glancing at him.

"It's um…" He looked up at him, staring, waiting. Tony finally looked back, meeting his bright, frightened blue eyes.

And then he understood.

No way.

"Oh," he breathed, nearly dropping the glass. His heart thudded against the reactor's cylinder, trying to shake. "Really?"

Steve looked away, so very red and afraid. "I told you…Look, I don't know why I feel like this. And I don't expect you to- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'll-" He turned away, ready to leave and escape this embarrassment. Tony grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Don't! Don't go," he said softly, holding his gaze. "I…I um…me too," he nodded, praying to God he understood.

His eyes widened, disbelieving, suspended where he was, just looking at each other.

"Yeah?" Steve finally squeaked. Tony nodded, pulling him closer, hasty, not thinking too much but wanting.

Steve gasped aloud, gripping his shoulders when the third kiss of his life met his lips. Tony was gentle, one hand cupping his cheek, the other gently holding his waist. Steve immediately kissed him back, their mouths pressed so perfectly together. His hands clambered for something to hold onto, his heart pounding. He gripped his shoulders, only forging their mouths together that much tighter. Tony couldn't believe how soft he was, mouth as hot as the muscles beneath his shirt. His fingers snaked up into his thick hair, gasping softly when Steve's arms enveloped him, strong but nervous all the same.

He smelled clean, like soap and aftershave and his skin…his skin, god it was intoxicating.

This was much different from kissing Peggy. Wasn't as gentle, or soft, missing the perfume and lipstick. Tony's lips were rougher than hers, his hands much more possessive. His stubble scraped and scratched his chin and swelled his lips, the faint taste of the alcohol on his tongue that ventured just a little past his lips. He smelled like oil and some cologne that cost more than everything Steve owned and he never wanted to be away from it. The height difference between them left him ducking and Tony leaning, hanging on so tight. Even if it was just a dream because God knows it couldn't be real.

They broke away gasping, lips parted but not far, still holding each other.

"Now what?" Tony breathed, staring up at him. Steve shook his head, chest heaving.

"I…I don't know," he said truthfully. "I-I don't know if I'm, I'm comfortable with telling…I don't know, Tony!"

"Hey, hey, it's alright," he nodded, still holding his face, smiling. "We don't have to tell a living soul. We don't even have to do that again…ever. If you don't want to…ya know." His voice ended smaller, pain flashing in his eyes.

"No!" Steve exclaimed, holding him tighter, possessive. "No, I just got brave enough to actually tell you how I felt about you, I just kissed you and it was a hell of a lot better than the dreams I had about it-" He flushed a deep scarlet, eyes widening just a bit. Tony grinned.

"Yeah, me too," he nodded, easing him a little. "We, um, we could keep quiet about it, you know, until you don't…you don't want to keep quiet about it anymore."

"That's not fair to you," he said softly, shaking his head.

"No," Tony said quickly, still so thankful that Steve wasn't letting go of him. "What isn't fair is making you do something you don't want to do. So…so it's alright."

"I just…"

"It's alright," Tony nodded. "What, um…" His eyes dropped to his lips. "What do you wanna do right now while we're uh…you know, up here…alone?" Steve cleared his throat, beet red again.

"This. Just this, forever." They were kissing again, smiling into it, secret and wondering just how far all of this might go. Not knowing if they'd be happy.

And certainly not knowing they'd be married at any time.

He felt sick, absolutely sick sitting beside him. The state of his face, his body, his breaths and the small, very tiny whimpers making their way out of his mouth kept his stomach on a continuous roll, and there was nothing he could do to fix it, not one thing that could make this better other than time he didn't want his husband to endure.

"Why, why is he on his side?" Tony breathed, watching Steve's chest going up and down so rapidly. Bruce looked up from the chart at him, lips pursed.

"He, um…I couldn't put him on his back. I didn't want to hurt him," he said gently. Tony continued staring at him, helpless and lost. Bruce cleared his throat. "Um, there's deep lacerations on his back, a few that…that go to the bone."

"From what?" He croaked, expression unchanged, eyes still wet and swollen. Bruce took a breath.

"A, a bullwhip. As far as I can tell. He didn't…he wouldn't…" He trailed away, watching Tony's head slowly sink back down, shaking it.

Humming of the fluorescents and the soft beeps of Steve's heart monitor were the only sounds for awhile, apart, of course, from the soft, rattled wheezes that Steve emitted every few minutes or so. Tony's hand clasped over his, thumbing his fingers, going over his wedding band over and over again, careful to avoid the cast his arm had been wrapped in.

"What else?" He said, cracking through the silence several minutes later.

"Sorry?"

"What else did they do to him, Bruce?" He growled, looking at him expectantly. "Did they do to him what they did to me or was it worse? Was it easier? Tell me!" Steve winced in his sleep, zapping the anger from Tony's features in an instant and leaving the broken mess that was left. He gently ran the back of his hand over his cheek, soothing him back to sleep, back to peace.

Bruce cleared his throat, looking at him steadily. "Tony, I am telling you right now, you don't want to know what they did to him. I can't tell you, I just…I just can't. I'm not gonna put you through that. If Steve wants to tell you, that's his business, but I won't."

"You're a doctor, Bruce, I'm his husband-"

"You're also my friend," he snapped, glaring now, unfazed by the false front of strength Tony was shoving in front of his heart to keep him guarded. "And when this happened to you it almost killed you. I don't want to know what the fuck you're gonna do if I tell you what happened to him. I'm not gonna have that be my fault, do you hear me? No…" He shook his head, turning from him. "No."

"Just…just answer yes or no, just one thing," Tony said softly, Bruce's hand staying on the doorknob. "Did…did they touch him? Did they touch him like they did to me?" The doctor took a breath, shutting his eyes.

"No," he managed, swallowing. "No, it was worse."

Tony's quiet, choked-off sobs were the last thing he heard before the door shut in his wake.