One of the most painful things for Tony, one of the hardest things he'd had to face since his life turned upside down, was the overwhelming sense of loneliness. It wasn't just that he missed Michelle dearly and wished she was here to share all the beautiful moments with him and their son. He also missed having someone to talk to about anything and everything, someone who was there for him, someone he could trust, someone he could love and be loved by in return. In the beginning, when David was only occasionally able to check in, he'd only had the handful of nurses, who usually rotated shifts and were never there for long anyway, to talk to. The fact that he also hadn't known much about David, hadn't been able to fully understand why he and Michael were in danger, why they'd killed Michelle, had made it so much worse.
However, over time, David had proven himself to be more than just a reliable carer for Michael. He was someone Tony could confide in and be vulnerable around. It hadn't been easy to accept. He had kept his walls up very firmly for the first few months, still believing that this was only temporary, that he'd run away with Michael, find somewhere to hide out and raise him, far away from people he didn't fully trust. But that hadn't happened. At some point, it'd been too much; he'd had to open his eyes and realise that he couldn't do this alone. He couldn't push everybody away because the fact was, he had no idea what he was trying to keep him and Michael safe from. There was no CTU. There was no team of agents and analysts to get information.
So slowly, he'd grown closer to David.
When he'd first heard David's story, heard about what had caused him to make the decisions he had, the former agent in Tony had tutted, figured it still didn't justify being a criminal, but a much larger part of him had understood, had felt every bit of his pain. It had almost scared him at first. After all, being an agent often required a level of callousness and detachment. No matter their story, what they'd lost, what horrible things had happened to them, it wasn't an excuse. But now, Tony realised that having a child of his own made his line of morality, the line between justice and going too far start to blur. The more he'd thought about it, the more he'd empathised, the more he'd understood, and most importantly, the more he'd realised he could trust David.
At some point, though, trust had evolved into something else. He'd started to care about David in return, just as he'd cared for him and Michael. He'd started worrying about his safety when he went out on jobs during the day, no different to how he used to worry about Michelle or Jack going into the field. It was partially for Michael's sake because Tony could tell he felt safe and comfortable with David too. David was the only other person, besides himself, who'd sparked some kind of emotional connection and reaction in Michael. But Tony knew he could no longer explain his feelings solely from the perspective of a father desperate to give the only child he would likely ever have a normal life. Today it had completely hit him that he would be devastated if David disappeared from his life. Because while he'd never put a timeline on processing his grief, he knew he was getting through it both because David was always there to listen to him, to hear him out, to validate him, and because Tony was finding it in him to return some of that affection. He was finding purpose again, not just in being a father but also in being a companion.
When Tony had realised he was developing feelings for David, while it had come with some sense of relief, some sense of understanding, it had also come with a whopping side of guilt because it hadn't even been a year since Michelle had died. He felt like he was betraying her now more than ever. The fact that David wasn't in the noblest of careers had already been eating away at him. No matter how much David told him that he was sure she'd understand, Tony was convinced that wherever she was, if she could see him, she would be a little disappointed. But now that Tony had admitted to himself that he was actually feeling some level of affection towards somebody else, dare he say, love, he felt ashamed. Ashamed because he and Michelle had been through so much, had faced so many battles just so they could be together, and instead of being wholly consumed by loss, instead of insisting that what they'd had was irreplaceable, he'd somehow found space in his heart for somebody else.
Once the shame had started, it only seemed to grow until he'd gotten to the point where he was tearing up as he held Michael in his arms because all he could see was Michelle staring back at him. Tony had mustered his strength and rocked him until he'd fallen asleep before wandering around the compound in search of something else. Something that he hadn't wanted or felt the need for in a very long time. The cacophony of emotions in his heart was just too much, and he needed something to drown it out. Most of David's crew was out, so he didn't have to fear being questioned by any of them when he looked through the fridge for a beer. It'd felt almost unnatural opening the first bottle up, which he was somewhat proud of himself about. But that had disappeared very quickly as one beer turned into two, into three, and then into a number Tony knew he'd need more than one hand to count. He'd welcomed the familiar feeling of numbness because that was what he needed right now, not to feel anything.
Tony also came to understand that his tolerance for alcohol had reduced a little since the days when he was drinking around the clock because he hadn't even noticed David walk into the kitchenette where he was currently sitting leaning against the cabinets, a cluster of bottles around him. Bending down, David furrowed his brow at the glassy expression on Tony's slightly flushed face, at how he was struggling just to keep himself sitting upright.
"Are you alright?" David asked.
Tony muttered something incoherent in return. David bit the inside of his lip. Counting the number of bottles, he was surprised Tony was even conscious. He knew this was a reaction to something, something upsetting, he figured, but what? Michael had been fine when David had quickly checked on him. He also suspected that this reaction was some kind of habit for Tony, something he'd done before. He'd never gotten close enough to get intimate details but always suspected the reason he and Michelle had divorced after his release from prison had been something to do with his coping mechanisms. David felt a little guilty now and blamed himself for having the temptation of alcohol in the house, knowing that Tony was grieving and vulnerable and in the perfect mental state for a relapse. He made a mental note to move where the stash of beers was, so Tony would have to search a little more and hopefully get caught if he tried to do this again.
"Tony…" He said softly. "What's going on? Why...why did you do this to yourself?"
To his worry, Tony still wasn't responding cohesively, was barely making eye contact with him, his gaze somewhere lower, fixated, clearly a sign that he wasn't processing anything he was saying. David felt a lump form in his throat. David thought he had seen Tony at his worst. He'd seen him in tears, he'd seen him barely able to keep it together but trying so desperately for Michael's sake but he'd never seen him like this, so woeful, so pitifully lonely.
"Talk to me, please-" His voice cracked a little before he was cut off by Tony clumsily pressing his lips against his.
David tried to resist, not because he didn't want this, not because he hadn't thought about this, being this close with Tony, because he had, but because he knew this wasn't how he wanted it to happen. He was drunk out of his mind, and more than that, David knew Tony wasn't kissing him out of passion or love but simply out of need. Tony could barely cup his face with his hand, the other fumbling and trying to plant itself on the floor. This was the kiss of someone so desperate for physical touch, so desperate to feel loved, and as much as David wanted to be that person, as much as a small part of him hoped and wondered if this was something Tony felt in return but was just too scared to reveal when he was sober, he knew this wasn't right.
He felt Tony's hand fall to his neck as he gently pulled away, hoping deep down somewhere that Tony knew this wasn't rejection or him saying that he didn't feel the same way but that it simply wasn't supposed to happen like this. Tony seemed to cling to him, which only broke David's heart more. Tears pricked the back of his eyes, but David took in a breath and managed to help Tony to his feet. It was difficult to get him up the stairs back into the room where Michael and his bed were. He took his jacket and shoes off before pulling back the covers so he could lie down. David grabbed a bucket from the ensuite, along with a packet of ibuprofen and a glass of water, knowing Tony would likely need them in the morning.
Knowing it wasn't a good idea to leave him alone, David sat on the opposite side of the bed, listening to Tony's deep, heavy breathing, contrasting Michael's quiet, shorter inhales and exhales. Pressing his lips together, he let the tears fall slide his face now, daring to run a hand through Tony's hair and along his arm, knowing Tony was probably too out of it to feel it but still wanting nothing more than to comfort him, wanting nothing more than to let him know he was there.
"I know you probably won't hear me or remember this, but I want you to know Tony…" He took in a shuddering breath. "That the way I feel when I'm with you is something I haven't felt in a very long time. It's something I thought I'd never feel again. But you make me happy. And if you don't feel the same way, it's okay, I respect that. I know you loved Michelle very much." His eyes crinkled a little. "But if you do…then please tell me. Because I want to take care of you in every way I can. I want to be there for you and your son. And if we can do that together, it would mean the world to me."
Tony shifted slightly under him, so David quickly moved back. He sat in the chair near the bed like usual when he watched Michael, almost terrified by the thought of Tony having heard him. And yet, he found it in himself to confess one more thing.
"I…I love you, Tony." He whispered.