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starshades-grace · 2 years

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Way More Than That

"Tony?"

Steve's drained voice echoed in the hallway of the workshop which was in the midst of being remodelled, following the events of Ultron. He sighed at the lack of response and allowed himself to lean against the sidewall and close his eyes momentarily, feeling extremely worn out. God, he was so tired. Maybe it was the post-battle rush fading away as the weight of their actions fell upon him, or just the fact that the silence in the tower echoed the emptiness in his heart. It was understandable -- the rest of the team moving in the new facility, it made sense. They would still, more often than not, be at the tower to visit and Steve was pretty sure atleast one of them would be staying over all the time. It was okay.

And yet, he resented the change. Fuck, so many things had changed. Ultron. Wanda. Pietro. Sokovia. He let out a gasping shuddering breath, remembring the floating city falling down to its demise. He remembered how he had almost accepted it -- looking at that beautiful of a view was certainly not that bad of a way to die; he could think of worse scenarios. But it seemed that for the first time in forever, he didn't want to die in a mission. The fact that it scared him seemed so foreign. No. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live. Things had been going so good - they had Peter now, he had a son. He wanted to be there for him to grow up and be there for his first dance and send off to college as he would hug a misty-eyed Tony who would probably be way too emotional for his own good --

Tony.

He pushed himself from the wall and moved into the lab, the aforementioned lack of response worrying him. It seemed like that's all he was doing nowadays. Worrying about Tony. How could he not? Things had been so rocky between them lately and they hadn't had any chance to talk it out, not as Captain America and Iron Man but as Tony and Steve.

It hurt even more cause he knew Tony was avoiding him.

Granted, it just had been a couple of weeks since Sokovia and they were still in being-the-world's-mightiest-heroes- mode. Dealing with Goverments, dealing with post-war damage, dealing with press. He had to only issue a statement as to what went down in Sokovia but it was Tony who was constantly running around, taking all the hits for them as Fury had said "you are the public figure, you built something, you deal with it." (Steve wasn't the one to punch Directors but honest to God, he really came close with that one.) Throughout all this, whenever Steve would try to hold a conversation with Tony, to touch him, to hold him; there was always some late meeting that Tony had to run to and when he couldn't get away with excuses, he would freeze up and just stare as if comprehending what Steve was gonna do.

And it sure as fuck hurt a hell lot knowing Tony didn't trust himself with Steve.

The familiar smell of metal and alcohol hit him and he scrunched his nose in anticipation because it was so clear. Tony had broken his streak. He ignored the heavy feeling in his chest beneath his white tee as he looked around the messy lab. His gaze settled onto the mass bending down on one end of the couch and his eyes softened. Tony was fumbling with some wires but Steve knew that it wasn't something that needed attending to. Through the years they had been together, Steve had been captivated by the way Tony treated his tech. Sometimes when Tony would be working, Steve would just observe him and would chastize himself for ever thinking that Tony was like Howard.

Howard always treated his tech as its master; demanding and dominating. Tony, on the other hand, for him was always so gentle, always so precious. The genius's mind was always working and Steve was sure Tony could turn anything into an impressive device. His tech from his knowledge, if anything, was never beneath him.

Steve approached him carefully, wary not to startle the man unnecessarily and stopped in front of him. "Tones."

The genius's hands continued to fumble absentmindedly with the mess of wires and Steve's heart dropped at the unacknowledgement. Something was wrong. So wrong.

"Honey," He continued gently, crouching beside him, "Tony." And yet, the brunette didn't look at him. Instead, Steve's eyes fell down at how terribly his arms were shaking and oh god, when was the last time he saw Tony eat something? "Hey, hey, love, look-" He heard Tony inhale sharply, still focused on the irrelevant project in his hands and his heart clenched. He held his husband's face between his hands, gently forcing Tony's gaze at him. "Sweetheart, look at me."

Steve stopped breathing for a moment.

Because fuck, fuck, Tony looked so-- so broken. His face had lost all of its usual charm, looking thin and malnourished. His hair were messed up and Steve could almost imagine the way the genius must have pulled at his repeatedly. The white of his brown eyes was tainted with red and the lack of sleep was so apparent that Steve's chest tightened with worry.

"Steve," Tony started out in surprise, almost as if he was only now aware of his arrival, "You are here."

He took a deep breath, holding Tony's shaking hands between his as he stated, his voice firm and gentle, "I am here."

"You are--You are here. With me."

Steve had to literally restrain himself from not pushing Tony against his chest and never let him go because the way Tony said it made Steve think that his husband believed that the blond would never return. "I told you I would be back in a couple of days, didn't I?" He managed to say, holding the shorter man up by his elbows as they stumbled to stand on their feet. "I just had some work to do at the new facility. And now I am back here. With you."

"Steve, Steve, Stevie," A lazy grin painted across his face and Steve tried to ignore the way Tony was slurring on his words as the genius pushed his face in Steve's chest. "I missed you."

Steve felt the familiar tug of tension in his throat. He knew an upcoming breakdown when he saw one. And the way Tony was basically clinging to his body, almost as if begging for some form of contact made the wave of guilt crash in full force because Steve couldn't even remember the last time he had told Tony that he loved him. He allowed himself to say, wrapping his arms around the smaller man, "I missed you too, love."

He felt the familiar brush of lips against his jaw and fuck, apparently Steve couldn't remember anything because he also didn't know when was the last time that they kissed. Tony spoke up, murmuring against Steve's chest, "You- you are back. And we are here. And--and where's Peter? Where's my boy, Steve? I need my boy."

Steve's heart clenched. "He's at Laura and Clint's, remember? We thought it would be a good idea to have him there till stuff got sorted out." Tony backed up from his chest, frowning as if he didn't remember talking to Steve about it. Then, he stumbled which made Steve curse as he leaned forward to hold him, "Jesus-- Tony, how much did you drink?"

"I-I don't know," Tony mumbled, letting out a weak chuckle as he allowed Steve to lead them out the workshop, "Lost count. JARVIS would know. J? J, how much did I--"

He stopped short and Steve hated how Tony went still in his arms, the bitter reminder washing upon them again and again. His husband's eyes were spaced out and Steve inhaled a sharp breath before murmuring out, "FRIDAY?"

"Boss had eleven glasses of scotch, two bottles of beer and four cigarettes."

He expected Tony to say something-- a snarky remark about how FRIDAY was betraying him by ratting him out or an unnecessary flirty comment about how Steve was worrying about him. But he stayed silent in his arms as Steve led them towards their bedroom.

"Tony," He couldn't help the annoyance that brushed off in his tone, "You know you have a heart condition, right? Do you want your liver to fail?"

The silence stretched and Steve regretted the words that had left his mouth as Tony dipped his head down, not willing to meet his eyes. He opened his mouth to apologize but Tony said, his voice so quiet that Steve almost didn't hear it, "I kinda wish it would."

Steve let out a shuddering breath at the confession and he felt the familiar sting of tears in his eyes because how the fuck did they get here? Him barely holding himself together as he led a drunk off his ass Tony who just indirectly admitted he wanted to off himself. How did they get here?

"You don't mean that," He whispered quietly against his lover's forehead, pressing a light kiss and chose to ignore the way Tony flinched cause no, Steve was not going to cry. Not right now. They were going to be okay. He kept reminding himself. They had no other choice. They were going to be fine.

"Captain, might I add, Boss has also not eaten anything in the past thirty-seven hours and has not slept since last four days despite my constant reminders."

The door to their bedroom slid open gently and Steve entered, a tense and stumbling Tony leaning against him as the super soldier held his weight up. Their bed looked like it hadn't been slept in for days-- infact, the whole room looked untouched. Steve hated how there was no familiar scent of Tony's cologne in the room or how his own clothes weren't thrown across that chair in the corner. It seemed... foreign. It didn't feel home.

He ignored the unsettling feeling as he lowered Tony down, the corner of the bed dipping with their weight. The brunette laid across at once, the exhaustion visible in his fatigue form while Steve took off his watch, placing it gently on their bedside table. His eyes settled onto their wedding photo that resided there -- Tony in a grey suit standing on his tip toes to meet Steve's lips halfway, who funnily enough had a small pink flower held behind his right ear. It was one of the best moments of his life.

Because for that moment, everything made sense and nothing seemed like it had been in vain. For that moment of utter happiness and bliss and peace, the fact that he had spent seventy years in ice or that he had once lost everybody he loved or that he woke up to see that the world still needed saving-- everything seemed like it was worth it. Tony was worth all of it. He always would be.

He gazed down at his husband whose small figure was folded onto itself against the white sheets, his eyes still spaced out as the brown orbs stared at the far right corner of the room. Steve sighed, gently running his fingers across his scalp before he bent down to press a kiss and murmured, "I will be back in a minute."

Tony's eyes flickered to his and his mouth twisted into a displeased frown. "Where are you going?"

"Well, someone has to feed you, right?" Steve managed to pass a small smile before standing up from the edge of the bed, "Sandwich sounds okay?"

The familiar grasp at his left wrist tugged him down, preventing him from getting up as he turned his head back in confusion at the intervention. Tony was balancing his weight on one elbow, his other one holding Steve's wrist. His hair fell back, messed up against the motion as he sat there, biting his lower lip, his eyes still not focusing on Steve. Eyes that were full off uncertainty and hesitance.

His voice came out small, "Stay."

Steve faltered. "I am not going anywhere, honey. You haven't eaten anything and I can't let you go to sleep drunk on an empty stomach."

His husband visibly deflated, his hand falling dead weight against the linen sheets. He clenched his eyes shut, the pain visible as his face contorted into a frown. It reminded him of those days. The days early in their relationship-- when they pretended they were just friends but not quite-- when Steve wasn't aware of Tony's trauma and there were walls he could never get past through. It took him time to learn certain things - why Tony hated going swimming in pools or why sometimes a bombing in a movie would make him have a panic attack. Afghanistan was the answer to a lot of things, he assumed but there were so many that he yet didn't understand about the man he was falling in love with. The audible quavering sigh that escaped Tony's lips made Steve's chest seize in panic. The way Tony was clinging onto him wasn't his usual cute way -- when Steve would have to unwrap a koala Tony from his arms with ten different versions of "I will be back before you know it", "Tony, for God's sake, get off me" or "You are really cute and I love you but you are being so annoying". No. This wasn't that. This was a sad Tony clinging onto Steve as if the world would end if he didn't.

This whole situation was so not Tony that it actually scared Steve.

"Tony," The fear seeped through the crack of his voice, "What's wrong?"

The engineer sat up halfway, his hands wrapped around his abdomen with his head rested against his knees. His jaw visibly clenched as his knuckles tightened around themselves. Steve visibly frowned, going to hold his hands because god, didn't Tony see he was hurting himself with the cuticles of his nails digging in his palms? But before he could, the genius turned away and Steve's heart dropped to his stomach. Tony had never seemed so small.

"Tony, wha--"

"I can talk to Pepper if you want."

His voice didn't come out slurred, didn't waver with the amount of pain he was clearly feeling. Instead, it was stable, a scary calm as if he had practiced this a hundred times. Steve blinked in confusion. "What?"

Tony's eyes finally snapped up to his blue ones and for the first time since he had gotten together with Tony, Steve couldn't read what the genius was feeling. They both had a habit of lashing out, being stubborn, getting closed off but never it had been the vague indifference that was swimming in his husband's right now. Steve carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, urging Tony to continue who let out a small insecure shrug before continuing, "I mean, if you are hesitating or something. She could get the best lawyers and the media would be handled if that's what you are worr--"

"What are you talk--"

"But, well," He continued despite the interruption, the frantic movement of his hands giving away his dishevelled state of mind, "It's not like anybody would blame you for it. Fuck, even I get it. But-- but can I see Peter on the weekends? Like, I know it's too much to ask for and you have every right to say no. After all, you are getting the custody and-- don't worry, even if you don't, I will make sure you do. So, weekends? Like does that sound okay for you--"

"Tony," Steve cut him off, his blue eyes wide as his hands held a slight tremor as he got a sense of what Tony was proposing, "What on Earth are you talking about?"

The engineer pressed his lips into a thin line as their eyes met and there was nothing Steve wanted to do more than cross the distance between them and hold his husband cause Tony looked so defeated as he said, his voice quiet, "If you wanted to file for a divorce, I meant."

Steve felt the air knocked out of his lungs at the statement. Tony didn't stutter and it only made his assumption concrete that this was something that had been on the genius's mind for awhile. His tone sounded resigned as if the battle was already lost. Steve couldn't help but stutter, "Wha--? Why would I-- Tony, why would you even think that I wanted to divorce you?"

Tony kept fidgeting with the sleeves of his black tee, a clear sign of nervousness that was hid behind a wall of indifference as his voice came out empty, "I would get it. After everything-- Ultron, Sokovia, Pietro. I would get it if you wanted to--"

"Is that-- is that what this is about? Tony, I-- is that why you took off your wedding ring?" Steve had noticed the absence of the band as soon as he had held his husband's trembling hands back in the workshop. He had let it go back then, not wanting to look into situations that probably didn't make sense but now a sharp stinging pain claimed his throat as he considered the possibility that Tony thought Steve - Steve who was so irrevocably in love with him - wanted to divorce him. Was that it? Was he making Tony feel that unloved?

Tony nodded as a hollow chuckle left his chapped lips. "Almost-- almost took the dog tags off too. But couldn't-- I couldn't cause you gave them to-- to me after our first night and I just couldn't." He remembered that night. He cherished that night. People would assume that Tony being Tony Stark would jump into the bed with his boyfriend the first moment he got but it was anything but that. Contrary to popular belief, in their relationship Tony had been the hesitant one when it came to that cause he knew. He knew the moment he let himself go completely in his most vulnerable state would be the moment when he would fall in love head over heels for the amazing blond tall man. So, when it finally happened, it was slow and lovable and peaceful. It made sense as something deep inside both of them clicked. The warm glow of the following morning had induced tears in Steve's eyes cause he had never felt so happy as he stared at the naked brunette man cuddled up next to him. His dog tags were placed against his lover's olive skin that day and had never came off since.

Steve inhaled a sharp breath, trying to keep his voice from wobbling. He had to be the strong one right now. "Tony," He said gently, "I would never--"

"I can't do this," Tony whispered, his voice breaking in the middle. His hitherto calm and controlled tone slowly descended into a messy string of words and Steve could see the familiar outlining of tears in his husband's eyes. The brunette shook his head in dismal, his shaking hands clutching on the tips of his hair. "I-- I can't. I though I could but I can't, Steve."

Tony abruptly stood on his knees, moving forward as he closed the distance between them and placed a kiss on Steve's lips. The shock at the sudden touch wore off as Steve allowed him to process the messy and urgent and desparate kiss. The genius placed his head in the crook of Steve's neck and god, the way his whole body was shaking made Steve feel like he was dying a million deaths every single minute. Tony's frantic voice came out muffled as he said, "Don't leave me. I am sorry. I am sorry. I know, I know if I was a good man I would let you and Pete go but- but I am not. You guys deserve so much better than me. I am nothing but a selfish asshole and I can't live without you. I am sorry. I thought I could let you go but fuck, I can't. Please, don't leave me. Steve, I can't--"

"Tony." Steve choked out, his eyes burning with the sting of tears that threatened to fall. He felt the familiar damping of his shirt and the realisation struck him that Tony was crying. Steve's mind drifted back off to their first meeting when he had thought that Tony Stark just couldn't cry. He had never been so wrong about someone on the first meeting. He had seen Tony cry before -- whether it was a way too emotional Pixar movie or Peter's first day at school or another one of his terrible terrible nightmares. It was never easy.

"I am sorry, Steve. I am." He looked up at Steve, his movements frantic and desparate, "I am so sorry. I was just-- I was just trying to protect everyone. Ultron wasn't supposed to-- We are so screwed, Steve. There are things out there that we are not even ready for. I was just trying to protect you and Peter and everyone. You--" He shook his head, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand, "You died in my arms, Steve. That's what I saw. You and Peter cause I wasn't doing enough. And I couldn't let that happen. I am not-- I am not evil, I swear. I just wanted to do one right thing and I fucked up cause that's what I do. That's what I have done all my fucking life--"

"Tony, honey, no--"

"You believe me, don't you? When I say that I am sorry. Cause I am, Steve," An unwilling sob left his lips and Steve's heart broke at the sight. "They all think I am this-- this monster. And I get it. People died because of me. Wanda was right. I don't know the difference between saving the world and destroying it. I didn't-- I never wanted to hurt anyone-- You believe me, right?"

He was-- oh god, he was begging. Steve's own tears left the brink of his eye because fuck, it hurt. It hurt so so bad to see the man he loved hate himself so much. "I believe you," He tightened his grip around his husband, pressing three frantic kisses across his forehead, "I know, Tony. I believe you. And they all do too, okay? The people still love you cause you saved so many lives--"

"That's cause they don't know I created Ultron," He snapped, struggling against Steve's assuring hold but in vain, "They just know it was a mistake involving alien tech and-- and they don't know. They hate me even though they don't know. Imagine them finding out-- you know what, tell them. That's what I deserve."

It had been a unanimous decision to not disclose to the public the actual story of how Ultron came into being. The story that was sold out was that the sceptre interacted itself with the AI present at the Stark Tower and Ultron was created. Tony hated the idea, it didn't make sense and more so, he hated hiding behind a cover up. But Fury was right. People were still hating on the Avengers, even though they didn't know the full story and if the truth got out, it would just be worse. The world needed the Avengers, irrespective of what PR stunt they had to hide behind.

"Listen to me," Steve's voice was stern as he held his husband's face between his hands, caressing his cheek with his thumb, "We fought together, Tony. Cause we are a team. So, we win together and if we lose, we do that together too. You are not the only one at fault. You didn't fuck up, we all did--"

"But-"

"Wanda messed with your head and let you take the sceptre because she knew. She planted the seed of fear and knew that it would drive you to depths. Bruce was the one who agreed to help you--"

"I forced him--"

"Is he not an adult? Mind I say an adult that can change into a raging green monster if he is forced to do something he doesn't want to?" He raised his eyebrown in anticipation silencing the man who just ducked his head, avoiding Steve's intense gaze. "And I should have known better too."

Tony's eyes snapped up. "What?"

"We fought," Steve said quietly, running the calluses of his thumb across Tony's collarbone, the guilt scratching at his throat, "When we got back the sceptre, you were acting different and I didn't get why and we just-- we fought." He didn't even remember what it was about. Maybe something about Tony acting closed off for no reason or the fact that not knowing enough about the Maximoff twins was getting on his nerves. He always knew he was a control freak and one thing escalated into another and then, they had a fight. He should have seen what was coming. "I should have known better."

"I hid it from you--"

"And even after that. I should have understood where you were coming from," He shook his head, disappointed in himself, "You had to deal with it alone. I am your husband, I should have been there for you more. Everyone was blaming you and- and Thor almost punched you. Even though, it wasn't only you. It was all of us."

"Steve," Tony whispered brokenly, his trembling hands wiping away Steve's damp cheeks inducing a small smile from the other man. "I wish I could believe you. But-- but I can't. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how I am supposed to-- to live after all this. I just can't keep doing this."

And that -- that, out of all the things said yet, that was what hurt the most because Tony was never the one who just said he can't.

Steve knew Tony had never been really fond of himself. They both had had those conversations about how it always seemed like there were things that they could have done more or things that they shouldn't have done. In their line of work, the concept of being enough was abstract. Hundreds of lives could be saved but there would always be that one lost. They knew this. But Steve had never seen Tony feeling so low about himself -- so hateful towards himself that he believed Steve was going to leave him.

"I am not leaving you, Tony," He said, his voice sternfully soft as he held the smaller man onto his lap, "We will get through this together. You can. We can. I know it seems like the world is closing in on you and everybody is out of reach but I promise I am there, love. I will always be there because I love you. Peter loves you." Tony hid his face once again in Steve's chest as Steve ran his fingertips lightly across the man's hair. "You are not a bad man, Tony. I really wish you would stop seeing yourself as one."

"I hate myself for all of it, Steve." It was whispered like a secret that would never see the light of the day. "Everything I did-- I just, I hate myself."

And Steve knew.

Steve knew this was one of those nights that they wouldn't speak of again. This was one of those nights that the world would never know about-- about how Tony Stark, the sassy, smiling, sarcastic genius was nothing but a broken man who regretted his decisions. Steve knew this was one of those nights where Tony was stripped bare of his walls. This was the Tony that no one would ever know, the Tony that only Steve was allowed to see.

Steve also knew there was no dearth of bleak promises in their world. Meaningless promises were made and broken but that night, as he held a shaking Tony in his arms, Steve promised himself that he would never let the man feel as if he was unloved, as if Steve would ever leave. He couldn't promise him a forever-- they both knew it didn't exist but Steve would be damned if the man he loved spent his life in fear that he was going to be abandoned. So, he held Tony tightly against his chest, every touch reassuring of the fact that they were together and alive as he whispered the following words, a promise that he would never break.

"And I will always love you way more than that."

#stony #stony angst #age of ultron #post age of Ultron #steve x tony #steve rogers #tony stark #mcucanon #superfamily #peter parker #wanda #hurt tony #ao3 fanfic #bruce #thor #marvel fandom #marvel cinematic universe

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