Chapter Text
“Is it weird to miss a body part you’ve never thought about before?”
Tony was drumming his fingers on the bedsheet. It had been three days since they’d removed the breathing tube, one day since they’d flown back to New York. Despite Tony’s protests, they’d transferred him to another hospital instead of back to the tower. He still had the chest tube draining fluid from his lung, and remained on a heavy dose of pain medication and antibiotics. He seemed to sleep more than he was awake, and grew tired extremely quickly the few times the nurses had helped him out of bed.
“I don’t suppose it is,” Steve responded, looking up from his sketch book. Tony was staring down at his abdomen, hand resting lightly over where Steve guessed the incision from his surgery was.
“I’m sorry spleen. You served me well, I think. I don’t know what your purpose was, but you can’t have been that important if I can live without you.” Tony sighed and rolled his head on the pillow to look at Steve. His pupils were wide with the pain medication and his speech was slow in a way that Steve wasn’t used to with Tony.
“Watcha drawin’?”
Steve felt his cheeks color slightly and he shrugged. “Nothing really, just a few sketches to pass the time.”
Tony blinked. “You don’t have to be here you know.”
Steve swallowed and bit his lip. He couldn’t quite explain why he felt so compelled to be here now that Tony was getting better. Back in Colorado, when things were so touch and go and Steve’s heart felt like it was lodged in his throat and his stomach felt full of rocks he could put it down to worry for a teammate.
But now… he’d tried to leave, had gone back to the tower shortly after they arrived. He’d wandered from room to room, trying to clear his mind, but everything reminded him of Tony, and he couldn’t shake the anxious churning of his gut. He couldn’t explain it, the thing niggling in his chest every time he thought of leaving.
“I know,” Steve answered, simply. Tony stared at him with wide eyes and Steve’s mouth suddenly felt dry, his heart pounding in his chest. He shrugged and pulled his gaze away from Tony’s. “But I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Tony’s head rolled back on the pillow. “Oh, I’m great. Lost a little weight too. How much does a spleen weigh anyways?”
A smiled tugged at Steve’s lips. “I have no idea, Tony.”
“Hmm.” Tony’s eyes were drifting shut, and Steve knew Tony would probably sleep for most of the day. Maybe he should head back home, take a shower, try to sleep… Steve’s eyes rested on Tony’s sleeping form, and decided maybe he should stay, just a little while longer.
-
The sounds of commotion rang through the halls when Steve entered the unit Tony was being held on. Shouting mixed with the sounds of alarms echoed down the corridor and Steve quickened his pace, a suspicious feeling in his gut.
Pepper was standing just outside the door of Tony’s room, a hand over her mouth. She looked at Steve as he approached with wide, panicked eyes.
“What’s going on?” Steve asked, and Pepper shook her head.
“He just… flipped out,” she explained, and Steve glanced into the room to see Tony perched on the edge of the bed, a hand on his side, surrounded by four medical staff. He was arguing, but Steve couldn’t make out his words from the other’s, mixed with the alarms sounding. Pepper continued. “He’s refused his pain medicine all day, and then he just decided to leave, but he ripped out his chest tube and fell on his way to the door. He’s been fighting with them since.”
Steve grimaced, imagining how much pain Tony must be in without his pain meds.
“He listens to you, Steve…” Pepper rested a hand on his arm. “Can you talk some sense into him?”
Steve wanted to argue; Tony most certainly did not listen to him, but he also couldn’t sit back and do nothing while Tony hurt himself.
“I’ll do what I can, Miss Potts,” Steve said with a nod before steeling himself to enter the room.
Tony was standing when he entered, hunched slightly, hand pressed tight against his right side. A medical personal was trying to get her hands on his arm to help stabilize him, but he kept pushing her away every time she came close. Someone else was very close to grabbing Tony’s shoulders, and Steve knew that would not go over well. Tony was touchy about his personal space on the best of days.
“Excuse me,” Steve said, and everyone in the room turned to look at him except Tony, who was staring resolutely at his feet. “Can I have a moment with Tony?”
A look of relief swept across one of the staff’s face, and he stepped closer to Steve.
“Captain Rogers,” he said, voice tight. “Mr. Stark is refusing to listen to reason and insists on being discharged when he can barely walk.”
It was a testament to how terrible Tony must be feeling that he didn’t have anything to say to this, just tightened his grip on the side rails of the bed.
“Please, can you just give us a minute?” Steve asked. He didn’t know Tony as well as he would have liked, but he knew him well enough to know he hated an audience when he was feeling weak.
“Captain, we need to put a bandage over the chest tube site to prevent his pneumo from re-accumulating.” The man – probably a nurse – was looking between Steve and Tony, most likely waiting for Tony to see reason.
Ugh, Tony, Steve thought, exasperated. Why do you make everything so difficult?
He kept those thoughts to himself. “That seems reasonable. Just you though. Tony?” Tony’s face tightened, but he gave the slightest nod. The medical staff looked at each other, probably conveying an unspoken message, before three of them left, leaving behind the man who had spoken.
Steve stepped forward, slowly offering his hand to help Tony sit back on the bed. Tony accepted it reluctantly, letting go immediately when he was perched at the edge of the bed. The nurse had gathered some gauze and an orange occlusive tape, laying out his supplies on the table beside the bed.
“Mr. Stark, may I?” The nurse asked, and Steve was happy the man waited for Tony to grunt and remove his hand before he lifted the edge of the hospital gown. Steve tried not to stare, but it was hard not to noticed the angry incision just under Tony’s ribs, or the purple and yellow and green bruising that mottled his side. Tony pointedly ignored Steve’s gaze, flinching when the nurse taped the dressing over where Steve presumed the chest tube had been pulled out.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” the nurse said when he was finished, pulling off his gloves and stepping back. “I can get you your pain medication if you like?”
“I’m fine,” Tony snapped, although now that Steve was close up he could see that Tony was anything but fine. His face was pale and damp with sweat, his eyes ringed with red and his lips pressed tight together. His hands shook against the bed.
The nurse looked up at Steve, obvious frustration and exasperation in his face.
“We’ll call you if we need you,” Steve said, as kindly as possible. It wasn’t the nurses fault he had to deal with Tony Stark on a bad day.
“Just press the call light.” The nurse gave one last look before exiting the room. Steve could make out Pepper’s worried face as the door opened, and he gave her as reassuring a nod as he could. She bit her lip before mouthing /call me/ and making the phone imitation with her hand that Steve was getting used to seeing in this century. He nodded before turning back to Tony.
“You’re wasting your time here.” Tony’s voice was tight and he finally looked up at Steve. There was obvious pain in his eyes, but something else… something Steve couldn’t quite place.
“Why won’t you take your pain meds?” Steve asked, completely ignoring Tony’s last statement. Tony stared at him hard for a moment, before squeezing his eyes shut, running a shaking hand over his face.
“I can’t… they make my brain so foggy. I can’t think on them,” Tony said, drawing in a shaky inhale. He looked about to collapse and Steve took a minute step forward, ready to catch him if needed.
“Can you honestly tell me you can think clearly right now?” Steve countered. “I can see you’re in pain.”
Tony didn’t answer, just clenched his jaw, eyes still shut. Steve sighed.
“Tony, look. I know you’re tired of being here, but this isn’t the way to to do it.” Steve knew reasoning with Tony could very well be like reasoning with a brick wall, but he knew he had to try. Not just because Pepper asked him too, but because… well. Steve shook his head, clearing his thoughts.
“Jesus,” Tony pressed the heels of his trembling palms into his eyes. “Why do you keep coming here, Steve?”
Steve paused a moment, considering. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“Ah, so it’s pity then. Good, familiar,” Tony said, a grimace on his face when he shifted slightly.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” Steve said, reaching out to lightly touch Tony’s arm. Tony looked down at Steve’s hand, his eyes narrowed.
“What would you like me to be like then, Captain Perfect?” His words were clipped, his arm pulling away from Steve’s hand. “A little quieter maybe? A little less annoying? Fuck you and your guilt complex.”
Steve stepped back, the words stinging like a slap to the cheek. He knew how sharp Tony’s tongue could be, and he knew how pain and frustration could make the best of men say things with the sole intention of hurting, of pushing someone away. But it didn’t stop his own frustration from rising, or the urge to shake Tony and make him see reason.
“Go back to your icicle and leave me alone.”
Steve felt cold at the words, colder than he’d felt in Colorado with the snow falling around them, limbs numb and aching. He turned abruptly; if Tony wanted to push people away than who was Steve to stop him?
“You keep pushing away your friends, Stark,” Steve said, pausing at the door, not bothering to look back. “Soon you won’t have any left.”
“Who said you were my friend?”
Steve didn’t bother responding to Tony’s harsh words, and shut the door forcefully behind him. He leaned against the wall just outside of Tony’s room, a curdled feeling in his stomach and a bad taste in his mouth. He took in a deep breath and licked his lips, tried to calm the sour anger that had risen in him.
He counted to ten and unclenched his jaw, ran a hand through his hair. That had not gone how he’d pictured it. Tony was belligerent and just… so damn frustrating, and Steve didn’t know whether to help him or leave him to his regular self-destructive ways. The second option was beginning to look startlingly appealing.
And yet… Steve pushed away from the wall, hesitating only a second before peering through the window in the door back into Tony’s room. Tony was hunched on the edge of the bed, one hand tight across his chest and the other white knuckled on the railing. His face was tense with pain, and Steve could make out a wetness around his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Making up his mind, Steve turned away from the door and headed back towards the nurses station, standing as tall and imposing as he could manage. He located the nurse from before, the man stopping as soon as Steve approached him.
“If Tony agrees to take his pain medicine, can he be discharged back to Avengers Tower?” Steve made his tone as authoritative as he could, feeling pleased as the man’s eyes widened at the mention of Avengers. “I will personally insure he complies with all medical treatments.”
“Um,” the man said, looked startled and more than a little bit in awe. “I don’t see why that would be a problem. Let me just page the doctor and try to get it sorted.”
Steve clapped him on the shoulder and the man stumbled, only slightly, but Steve had to hold in a chuckle.
“Please do. I’ll wait.”
It only took just over an hour for the discharge paperwork to be processed and Tony to picked up by Happy and Pepper, Steve staying pointedly out of the way. While he still felt uncomfortable with the authority and fame that came along with being Captain America, he had to admit that sometimes it had it’s perks.
-
It takes three days for Steve to work up the courage to visit Tony. Three days of Steve wandering around the tower, feet taking him in the direction of Tony’s workshop but always stopping, turning around and forcing himself away with legs made of lead.
He told himself Tony wanted to be left alone, that Tony would have found him if he wanted to talk, or would have at least sent him a message letting him know how he was doing. But the truth was, Steve was confused. Extremely confused.
On the one hand, he couldn’t stop thinking about Tony. About the way his cheeks turned pink in the cold, the way his hair was always ruffled in the mornings before his coffee. About the way he had held onto Steve’s arm as he bled out beneath him, the way his eyes had locked with Steve’s, wide and frightened. About how he’d taken Steve’s stupid complaints to heart, and how he’d been prepared to use his final moments to apologize.
About how he confessed to having a crush on Steve.
On the other hand, what he said in the hospital still hurt. The way he was was prepared to push everyone away, to cut to the core so easily with just a few words made something sour sit in Steve’s stomach. He felt uneasy, unsure how to navigate this situation.
He had to do something. They were still a team and they needed to clear the air before Tony was well enough to suit up again, but Steve didn’t know what to do. His heart was pulling him two different directions, and he was scared to admit what he so deeply wanted.
Who he so deeply wanted.
Steve took a breath and made up his mind.