a/n: Here is chapter 1!

Chapter 1

Clint wound his hand in a circle at the wrist. Steve was meant to take it as a signal to keep talking but, frankly, he'd begun to run out of things to say. He wasn't sure how long it was supposed to take for Clint to get the clean room's door unscrewed, but it was much too long for Steve's liking. When Stark decided to have a fit of PTSD, the general consensus was to call Bruce or Pepper. Having neither available for once was an oddity in itself.

"Tony, how you doing in there? Can you still hear me? Can you say something or move your head for me?"

Tony did neither. He was frozen, relatively speaking. He sat on the edge of his desk in the separate portion of the lab meant for a dust free environment. He had a clean suit on with the hood pulled down, breathing a mile a minute. His face was the same color as his clean suit and he was shaking everywhere.

"Almost got it." Clint whispered, edging another wire into the lock on the door. "Got to admit something, this one's a first. Haven't had an incident in...what? Four days? Figured we were over the worst of it. Guess little relapses are expected."

"Yeah, well, he needs Bruce as much as Bruce needs him. Get that door open." Steve told him

"Bingo." Clint said. The door seal popped. An alarm went off over head as the contamination bell rang. "Shut that down! Red button!" Clint yelled to Steve. He squeezed through the barely open door and stopped in front of Stark. He slowly put his hands on Tony's shoulders. Steve hit the button and the wailing stopped. He hurried back to help Clint but the archer held a hand out to stop him. Steve remained within reach if needed but outside of Stark's view.

"Tony?" Clint whispered quietly. His hands moved from his shoulders to the side of Tony's face. "Listen to my voice. I need you to come back from that little dark room I know you're hiding in right now and get back here. I may have just ruined all of your computer chips. I'm sorry about that. You can kill me over it later if you want, but right now I really would like for you to try and be present. Can you do that?"

Tony shook a little less. The distant black look in his eyes began to dissipate as he came around. Clint was right to think Steve had some experience with this sort of reaction. He'd seen it with guys who'd gone up too much on missions. Buddies of his who'd seen too many men dragged out of foxholes on their bellies with nothing left beyond that. After Bucky died, even Steve was so distraught it took a lot of time and a lot of missions to pull himself out of it. Suddenly, he felt a little guilty over the things he'd said to Stark before the attack. He said Stark didn't have what it took. He wasn't made of the stuff that let a man lay down on a land mine to save everyone he cared about. Seeing Tony not only ride that rocket through the portal but almost die in the process shook Steve. Seeing this? It hurt him deeply.

"Tony?" Clint continued to coax. Watching him work was almost masterful in some ways. "Look, I know she's not here and I would get her if I could. If you can get moving a bit I'm going to bring you into the lab. JARVIS is going to get the suit on you. You can relax a bit in there. I'll leave you alone."

"No."

Steve looked at Clint, surprised to hear Tony talk.

"No?" Clint asked.

Tony moved his head a little. He blinked his eyes, the blackness fading out of them. He was looking at the computer chips laid out in their neat rows on the table.

"I got them dusty." Clint said. "I told you to get mad at me later about that."

"No. I—No." Tony pushed up to his feet. His legs were weak under him. Clint grabbed his arm and nodded for Steve to grab his other one. Steve reacted immediately and took the brunt of Tony's weight.

"No! No! No! I can't replace that!" Tony struck out with a leg and hit the base of the table. The computer chips went flying. Clint grabbed the base of the table before it went completely over. He dropped it back on its legs and grabbed Tony again before he could do more damage. With Steve's help they dragged the tirading Iron Man into the main room again.

"Take it easy, Tony." Clint said. He was so patient; Steve couldn't understand how he did it. "Easy! Just stand here. I'm going to let go of you, now. Steve too. Ready? Ok, we've let go. Stop trying to destroy stuff, Tony, or else I'm going to have Steve grab you again. Relax. Take a breath. Take a deeper breath."

Clint knelt on his toes beside the work bench and stared up into Tony's face. The exercise of fighting them had brought color back into his cheeks. He was tired from his body seizing up. Steve stayed off to the side where Clint indicated he should.

"Tony? Are you listening? I have something important to tell you."

Tony glared down at Clint.

"You have probably the biggest piece of snot hanging out of your nose I've ever seen."

Tony snorted.

"Oh—Oh my God, it's worse. Look at that hair! You've got to get Pepper to weed whack that or something. Jeez, you go on TV like that? It's like the creature from the black lagoon waving out of there. Don't laugh, you're making it move. I feel like it's going to eat my face or something. Cap, hand me those paper towels behind you. I got to take care of this before it shoots across the room or something."

Tony leaned his elbows on the counter top with his head in his hands. There was no mistaking the change in his mood from severely volatile to healthily sedate. Clint ripped off a paper towel from the roll and handed it over to Tony. His friend took it but just held it in his hand. He knew better than to believe Clint's lies.

"Where's Bruce?" he asked after a time.

"Still out I guess. When you threw him out, you really did it. How much money did you send him with?"

"Forty I think."

"Should run out of cab fare soon then. I'm sure he'll be back after he enjoys a little of the New York City life. You eat lunch yet?"

"Don't—no. No."

"You don't know, or no you didn't?"

"Didn't."

"Fine, let's go get something upstairs unless you want food from the court downstairs."

"No, up."

"Up it is, maestro. Steve, call the elevator. Tony, get your feet moving. I'm cooking."

They moved into the elevator as a single entity, Tony's phone began to ring in his pocket. He read the number, Bruce, and set it on speaker. He wasn't sure he was quite ready for good conversation so he handed the phone to Clint.

"Archer extraordinaire and not Tony's private secretary?" Clint said by way of greeting.

"Hi, Clint, it's Bruce. Hey look, don't expect me back till late. I met someone and we're going to dinner after she heads over to her boss' place."

Tony took the phone back. "You what?!"

There was giddy laughter in the background and Bruce's voice returned. "I told her you'd say that. It's fine, don't wait up. I'll be back late."

The phone cut out and the three men in the elevator were trapped in their own astonished looks.

thank you for the fun reviews! please enjoy!