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Tony knew he wanted Cap- needed him, but he had never been brave enough to say it out loud.
Not the second time they ate breakfast together in that small coffee shop in New York. Not the time when they watched Dr. Phil together at the Avengers’ home. Not the time when Steve got into the hospital for breaking his left arm.
Not even when they parted ways.
But now, as he stared at America’s favourite hero, his suit torn in too many places too count, his body limp just like a rag doll; God, exactly like a rag doll- dead, dead, dead, Tony regretted all of the times he had ever hesitated.
Time slowed to a stop when his eyes met Steve’s- afraid, determined, pained, just not Steve, and Tony couldn’t do a thing.
“Steve!”
Tony screamed, but he was rooted to his spot, his legs refusing to move.
Seconds passed.
Minutes.
And Tony’s mind was still stuck on the memory of his eyes meeting Steve’s.
Because he had never seen Steve look this scared.
Because Steve had never been scared.
Because Steve was their captain.
Because Tony loved Steve.
And he was going to lose him.