Ch. 8 If Anything Happened to You (or me, for that matter)

"Monday again." Tony complained as he shuffled into the kitchen. They hadn't gotten home 'til late and his legs ached from all the walking they had done at the carnival.

"Yeah—yawn—I feel ya'." Clint agreed, taking a sip from his morning coffee. He pushed Tony's cup towards the brunette as he got closer.

"I feel sorry for any old chap that has to wake up before us." Tony lamented, gulping the hot liquid and making a face at the milk in the cup.

"Clint, you know I like my coffee black." Tony complained, still sipping from the cup. It was too late into breakfast to make a fresh batch.

"I know, I know. But I'd already poured in the milk before I realized. I wasn't about to throw half a cup of coffee away. Those grains are expensive." Clint retorted, defensively.

"Yeah, yeah. Just try next time." Tony said putting the cup in the basin. "Any news on the war?" Tony asked when he caught sight of Clint reading the paper.

"Yeah, it seems like the Germans are losing big time. You can read it for yourself if you'd like." Clint said, never putting the paper down to give it to Tony. The brunette shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"I'm taking a shower, we have a long day's work ahead of us." Tony said rubbing a hand down his face to wake himself up just a bit more.

ooOOoo

As he had been doing for the past couple of weeks, Steve's familiar car was parked outside the apartment building, the engine off, and the blonde looking expectantly at the door.

Tony realized how the sight of it didn't surprise him much anymore; it was starting to become routine.

"Good morning, how can you stand getting up so early to pick us up?" Tony asked, scooting in first and placing a small kiss on Steve's cheek. He'd never done this sort of thing before, so he was trying to tread lightly and let his instincts guide him until he felt more comfortable.

It took a second for Steve to respond, since he wasn't expecting such outward affection, but he managed to chuckle (a bit nervously) and reply with "If it means getting to spend time with you before work, I'd wake up even earlier."

"Ugh, stop it you two. I'm drowning in molasses." Clint said pushing his thumb to the back of his throat to show his disgust with how sweet they were being to each other. He didn't mean it, of course, he knew that his brother was discovering the new and exciting depths of his feelings. He couldn't fault him for being a little naïve, all things considered.

But still, Steve reddened and apologized, starting the engine and pulling out into the empty road. He wanted so badly for today to be like yesterday (he'd already planned out the rest of the month) but he knew that (unlike him) Tony had to work. He was also one-hundred percent positive that if he ever showed so much as a trace of pity, the brunette would lynch him.

Tony took pride in his ability to fend for himself—Steve could see that—but he was also deathly afraid of admitting any weaknesses, especially those that dealt close to come.

Nevertheless, he wanted to learn so much more regarding the other man. That's what they'll do tonight then, talk.

Tony handled pain much differently than others. When he could, he'd ignore it, when he couldn't, he'd sit down and take a couple of deep breaths.

When he was younger (and his father could afford it) he'd go to the doctor for the pain. He was born with this condition where he had a hole in his heart. The doctor said that it would have been best if they had treated it when he was a baby, but that it had mostly closed now.

Regardless, on days where he'd exert himself, he'd have shortness of breath, sometimes severe pangs of pain directly above his chest. He always knew that he'd never fully recuperated from his congenital disability. It was the reason he didn't get into the army, it was the reason he could never participate in any of the block races when he was a boy, it was also the reason he worked in parts and not assembly. He really couldn't lift anything heavier than a fat child without feeling the strains of his heart. It has gotten better over the years as he'd learn techniques to keep his heart from beating faster than it should.

He never told anyone about this, not even Fury. Clint was the only one who knew the whole story as well as how to deal with it in case of an emergency.

This was that emergency.

"Clint, I think I'm gonna faint." Were the last words Tony uttered before he fell flat—like a stone.

ooOOoo

When Tony finally came to, he was laying down on a hospital bed, a white sheet separating himself from the other patients. He could tell it was one of the public hospitals, but on the upscale side.

He looked around a bit dazed as he tried to orient himself. He had fallen pretty hard, if the bruise on his shoulder was any indication. He had a soft, damp cloth on the top of his head cooling down the fever he didn't know he had.

I can't afford this, I need to get back to work. He tried to say the words but his mouth wouldn't work, plus, his throat was too dry.

The curtain was slowly pulled back to reveal a cute nurse. She had a friendly smile and warm brown eyes. As if she had read Tony's mind, she brought with her a glass of water.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir, I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy. Last time I checked, you were asleep." She said quickly and quietly as to not to disturb the peace.

Tony shook his head and pointed to the water.

"Oh, here you go." She said, holding his head as he took slow sips of the liquid. "Better?"

"Much." Tony replied, clearing his throat slightly and slowly sitting up.

"Here, let me help." The nurse said, placing the glass on the small stand by the bed and lifting Tony gently to help him sit. "There's a man out there who has been waiting patiently, and quite nervously, for you to wake up. Another man was with him but he had to go. Should I tell him you're here?" The nurse asked, surprising Tony. So they had both come. Steve probably had to leave and get back to work. He was the type to pick duty over personal matters, and Tony didn't blame him. He knew that, in a pinch, he'd do the same. And it wasn't as if Tony was anything special to him or anything. Sure, they just started to become something special, but Steve didn't owe him anything. He could understand if the blonde couldn't wait until he got up, all that matters is that he came too. He'd have to thank him later for his concern.

Now Clint, Clint would be missing work right now too… oh, why did he have to get sick again?

"That's probably my brother, yeah, he can come in." Tony said. Feeling a bit stronger, he lifted the glass to his lips and took another sip of the refreshing liquid.

"Sir, he said you could come in, but do be careful—he's still quite fragile." The nurse said as she ushered…

Tony almost let the glass slip through his fingertips as he realized how hard he'd psyched himself out of thinking that the mere idea of Steve leaving him didn't play a huge role in his emotions.

"If that is all, I'll leave the two of you be. Please, take it easy sir." The nurse said, drawing the curtain back so they had some semblance of privacy.

"Steve-

"Tony, what…what happened?" Steve asked. Raw and unfiltered emotions poured out that one question and wrapped Tony up in a blanket of shivers. He was able to take a closer look at Steve and notice how disheveled he was; his hair stuck out in random places where he had probably tugged and pulled in worry, his lips were half chewed, his eyes puffy… boy, he was a mess!

And Tony couldn't be happier to see him.

"Steve… what are you doing here?" Tony asked, ignoring the first question.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked in reply, he was taken aback by the unexpectedness of it.

"I thought you had…"

"Left? Tony—Steve brought himself closer as his emotions overcame his rationality—I would never leave you." Steve said, the way he emphasized never felt like a promise and Tony unconsciously latched on to that.

"I'm glad, I'm so very glad." Tony said, a bright smile overtaking his features as he realized how badly he had fallen for Steve. There was absolutely no way he would be getting out of this relationship alive.

Steve picked up one of Tony's hands and kissed each knuckle. "Tony, please tell me what happened. The first minute I was pushing parts into slots and the next I have Clint screaming at me to hurry. I find you on the floor and my first thought is that you're dead, you're dead and I didn't get to say how much I-

"Stop right there Steve, don't get ahead of yourself. We don't know what this is yet…besides, we're not alone." Tony warned, looking towards the side where Steve and the Nurse had come in.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and pulled the white curtain back to reveal an empty room and a door that was left ajar—probably by the Nurse.

This day was just full of surprises, huh?

"Jesus Christ, I really can't afford this. One more second in this hospital bed and I'll definitely be losing limbs." Tony looked up apologetically at Steve as he realized what he said. "Sorry."

Steve shook his head and walked over to the door to push it closed all the way. He grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it over to Tony's location.

"Don't worry about offending me right now, tell me what happened please." Steve implored, his baby blues shining.

"I wish we could sit here and chit-chat Steve, but I have to get back to work… I have to get out of this bed before I run myself into more debt." Tony said, almost falling over to get out of the bed.

"Please don't worry about that. Just sit back and rest, that's what the doctor ordered right?" Steve said, trying to pull Tony back into bed.

Tony looked around the room and then back at Steve.

"I don't need your charity Steve." Tony said (almost angrily) as the sudden realization hit him.

"It's not charity Tony, I did this because I care. I didn't know what was wrong with you so I opted in for the best." Steve said, defending his actions.

"I've done this before, with various levels of success, I don't need the best." Tony said, more determined now to get out of the bed. He hated when people did nice things for him, it reminded him of the time… No, now wasn't the good time for him to be remembering the ugly past.

"I wanted to give it to you. I don't know why you're so afraid of accepting a little help, but I'm not looking for anything in return if that's what you're worried about." Steve said on the verge of hysteric. He couldn't believe that Tony was so hyper-focused on this one little detail that he conveniently overlooked the fact that Steve still didn't fully know what was going on.

"People don't normally do nice things for others without expecting something in return." Tony murmured, dipping his head down low. There it was, the memories he'd tried so hard to suppress over the past seventeen years, came flooding back into his conscious thought.

"I only want you to get better, nothing else." Steve replied, a bit calmer. He realized then that there was more to Tony than met the eye. Someone had broken his trust and he would find out what that was and rectify their mistake. He would make Tony trust again, trust in him.

Tony shook his head and took a deep breath. He looked up then and locked eyes with Steve.

"You're too nice for your own good. Why you ended up liking someone as broken as me, is incredible." Tony said.

"Well, I don't like you really. It's more of a love-hate relationship." Steve said jokingly. He wasn't one for comedy, but he was trying to clear the anger from the air. It felt so charged, he wanted to get that feeling out of his skin and resume their regularly scheduled program.

Tony rolled his eyes and decided to let this unwarranted kindness slide just once. He justified it by telling himself that he was too weak to argue anyways.

"So are you finally gonna tell me what happened to you?" Steve asked after a couple of minutes.

Tony took a deep breath and a sip of his water. This would be the second person he'd tell the full story to so he had to get his facts in check.

"I was born with this hole in my heart, the doctors were surprised when I made it out alive. Back then, my father and mother had a little bit more money so they could afford a proper doctor to check on me when I was born. This hole eventually closed as I got older but, 'til this day, I can't do many things like run for extended periods of time, pick-up heavy boxes, anything too extraneous really. When America joined the war, I was picked, like many of the boys in our neighborhood, but I didn't even get past the screening." Tony said, leaving no stone unturned as he revealed all.

"That's… I've never heard of such a thing. How did the doctor's know exactly what it was?" Steve asked.

"Oh, something having to do with an odd number of beats, I'm not quite sure, I never truly asked for the exact details." Tony said, taking the last sip of his water.

"So what happened today, I'm sure you're extra careful when it comes to preventing this sort of stuff?" Steve asked, morbidly curious as to this new aspect of Tony's life.

"I am, I guess… with everything that's been going on lately, my body is trying to adjust. You have to understand that for most of my adult life, I've had very little troubles." Tony said unconsciously blaming Steve for all of his current stress.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm the cause of this. I never meant to… if I'd have known." Steve said, hanging his head.

"Hey, don't-don't do that. You didn't know and I'm not saying that it was entirely your fault. Let's say, 65%." Tony said, a small smile erupting from his face like an unexpected flower blooming in the winter.

"65%... if that's what you believe, then I'll gladly take the blame." Steve said, placing his hand in the general area of Tony's knee.

"Hey, come here, sit next to me." Tony said, scooting over to the side so there was enough room for the blonde to sit.

"Are you sure, wouldn't want to be responsible for taking 65% of your bed space." Steve teased as he sat on the bed. "What about your air, wouldn't want to be responsible for breathing 65% of it." Steve continued as Tony rolled his eyes.

"You're not gonna let that go are you?" Tony asked.

"I'll let 65% of it go." Steve said.

"Jesus Christ Rogers, it was a joke!" Tony exclaimed, slapping the blond lightly.

"And I found it 65% funny." Steve said, "Okay, I'm 65% percent done."

"Steve, I will have the nurse forcibly remove you if you don't stop." Tony threatened lightly.

"Okay, I'm done, for real this time." Steve said, leaning back against the wall.

Now that they were this close and in a comfortable light, Tony was able to fully make out the damage of Steve's left arm. He'd underestimated the scarring, it was jagged, ugly, and looked tender to the touch.

"I wonder if you were a different person would you have forgiven me so easily, I clearly deserved a punch to the face for what I said that first day we met. It was totally unwarranted." Tony said, lightly touching the length of one scar.

"You're still going on about that… I'm normally not one to resort to violence but, at that moment, I almost did. You hit a deep wound Tony, I didn't even know you then… I still don't really know you now." Steve admitted.

Tony could acquiesce, he didn't really know Steve either. "We should get to know each other then. I'd love to know more about you. Your hobbies, your fears, your weaknesses, your favorite food, colors, books… everything." Tony admitted, scooting closer and lightly grabbing Steve's mangled arm.

"I was thinking the same thing. Where should be start?"

ooOOoo

"Steven Grant Rogers. Yours?" Steve asked as he helped Tony with his food. Tony had insisted that he could feed himself, but was totally overpowered by both the nurse and Steve. They had gotten through a total of five questions before the nurse returned with Tony's food tray. She almost said something about Steve being on the bed but remembered that the gentleman had been in quite a tizzy when he first arrived, so she decided not to bother.

"Grant? What an All-American name, it's almost as if you were the poster-boy for an American citizen—your birthday being on July 4th is just icing on the proverbial US of A cake." Tony said, taking another bite. He felt like a baby, but was slowly growing accustomed to the feeling.

"Well, what's your full name?" Steve asked, waiting expectantly for Tony to finish his chew.

"Anthony Edward Stark." Tony admitted, he wasn't one for his first name—it is the main reason he shortened it.

"I can't really poke fun at that, it's quite regal, almost as if you should come from a long line of successful rulers." Steve said.

"Huh, the only thing that has been successful in my family is a long line of alcoholic fathers." Tony said, rolling his eyes.

"That's quite morbid." Steve replied, scooping another serving onto the fork.

"The truth is oftentimes bleak." Tony replied, opening his mouth expectantly.

Steve placed a small peck on Tony's cheek and then shoveled the food in his mouth so the brunette couldn't complain.

"Just because it's the truth doesn't mean it has to continue being the truth." Steve said.

"I don't get what you mean." Tony said, his face a bit flushed from the unexpectedness of Steve's affection.

"You don't seem much like the drinking type." Steve clarified.

"I was when I was younger." Tony admitted, slowly losing his appetite.

"What do you mean 'when you were younger,' how old are you?" Steve asked, coming to the realization this was information he didn't know.

"Twenty-seven, twenty-eight in May." Tony replied. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-Three, I could've sworn… well, Mr. Stark, you don't look a day over twenty." Steve said, surprised.

"You do realize that twenty-seven is not that old right?" Tony said incredulously, his pride suffering a little at the prospect of being labeled an old man by someone younger than him.

"I know… it's just that I thought… never-mind what I thought, what's your favorite color?" Steve asked, continuing their light back-and-forth interrogation.

"Red or gold, I can't ever decide. My father's was always red and my mother's was always yellow. I think I take from the both of them." Tony said, contemplating.

"Mine is blue, but I do border on red sometimes. I use it the most when I choose my color palette." Steve said, putting the plate away since it was finished. "Favorite past-time?" He then asked, returning to Tony's side.

"Reconstructing old equipment with my father when I was younger. He always returned the metal, but it was the one time I could be in his general vicinity and not get beaten. I also liked to climb the roof and look at the sky with Clint. Nowadays, I don't do much but work and sleep. You've kinda changed the pace for me a little bit." Tony said, deconstructing his life piece by piece and laying it bare in front of Steve for him to examine.

"You already know mine, painting. Before the war I would sit by a creek or a busy park and sketch. If it wasn't that I would go to outings with Bucky or run with my father. I don't know how it'll be when he returns, but I hope we can move past this mess." Steve said, getting comfortable on the bed.

"Any fears?" Tony asked, laying his head comfortably on Steve's shoulder. The blonde would normally dislike anyone putting too much pressure on his bad side, but Tony was being gentle and no amount of pain would make him ask Tony to move away.

"Two of them have already been realized, so all we have left is heights, snow-

"Snow? But you live in New York?" Tony questioned quizzically.

"I know, and I hate it. When I was about four or five I was caught in a mini-avalanche and was buried in the snow for about an hour. I didn't know what to do, no-one had seen me… it was a very terrifying experience. Since then I've hated the snow, but I've had to work through it, especially during the war. You couldn't really show any weaknesses on the battlefield." Steve said.

"Oh, I guess I see how that could traumatize a young child." Tony replied, slowly falling asleep. "My fear… I really only have one." Tony admitted, yawning into Steve's shoulder.

"Are you gonna tell me what it is?" Steve asked, expectantly.

"Maybe… one of these days… when I trust you." Tony said, finally losing the battle between wakefulness and sleep. On days where his heart condition got the best of him, he always became incredibly sleepy.

"Tony?" No response.

"What am I gonna do with you?" Steve asked into the ceiling.

A couple of minutes later the nurse returned to collect the tray and refill Tony's water.

"Sir, could I get you anything? You've been here since this morning and I feel bad." The nurse asked Steve as she noticed how comfortable Tony seemed on his shoulder.

"No, no, I'm okay for now." Steve replied courteously.

"Okay… if you don't mind me saying, you don't really look like his brother." The nurse said, tilting her head adorably to the side.

"Is that what he said, no I'm not his brother, I'm his…" But Steve found that he really couldn't continue the sentence because he already answered the question. That was it, that's what he was to Tony: his.

But the nurse was looking expectantly and Steve had stopped talking at quite an unusual spot. "I'm his friend, the other gentleman was his brother." Steve said, feeling odd calling Tony his friend when he knew that they were both much closer than that.

"Well, make sure that when he gets up he has that glass of water, he was quite dehydrated when he arrived this morning." The nurse said, giving Steve some orders as she left.

"Will do nurse…" Steve trailed off waiting for the woman to fill in the blank.

"Eleanor, Ellen for short." She said, sweetly.

"Thank you Nurse Ellen, I will call if he needs anything." Steve replied.

"Or you, for that matter." She corrected, leaving the room before he had time to reply.

"Or me, for that matter." Steve sighed, leaning the top of his head on Tony's own soft hair. He'd gotten to do what he set out to do today, albeit, under much more stressful circumstances. But an achievement was an achievement regardless of the way one took the steps to get it done.