Chapter Text
What’s the point?
Steve had been lying down in the fetal position on his bed for the past hour or so, the same thoughts going around and around his head.
I’ve never done anything useful.
He stretched out and turned to face the other side, hoping another view would give him something else to think about.
Nobody likes me.
He thought about all his friends; Sam and Bucky and Clint and Natasha, who’d be worried if they saw him in this position right now.
I annoy everyone I meet.
Or maybe they wouldn’t, but someone would miss him right? His co-workers maybe?
I don’t do anything right. I’m worthless.
Steve jumped out of bed, pulled on the first pair of jeans he saw, and stalked out, slamming the door behind him. Maybe some fresh air would make him feel better.
I don’t deserve to live.
Steve spent half an hour just walking around the streets of Brooklyn. He tried to do it as mindlessly as he could, keeping his head empty. He stopped to pet every dog he saw, and even helped an old lady cross the street, but he still couldn’t turn his brain off. Every thought he was trying to avoid, every little annoyance, kept flooding his head to the point that he walked around the same block four times before noticing and turning to cross the street.
He pressed the button to cross, and leaned against a nearby pole, shaking. He couldn’t do this anymore. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He wanted to get rid of his head, chop it off so he didn’t have to think about anything else, didn’t have to feel anything. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face wearily, trying to keep himself together until he got home.
Steve walked forward mindlessly, at a slower pace than usual; his head was so heavy it felt like it was weighing down every other part of his body as well. He was so consumed by his own thoughts that he barely heard a loud horn to his right. When the noise finally pulled him out of his thoughts, Steve involuntarily froze, an hour’s worth of thoughts going through his head in that one split second.
Move, you idiot, MOVE!
I want to move but…it’s too much work.
You’ll die if you don’t!
Would that be such a bad thing?
Yes, it would, you’d be fucking dead!
I wouldn’t really mind being dead…
Suicide is a really cowardly way to die, Steve!
This isn’t technically suicide…
The poor driver’s gonna get charged with manslaughter! Do you want to fuck up someone else’s life as much as you’ve fucked up yours?
No court would find him guilty, he’s following all the rules, I’m just not listening to them.
What if you don’t die and just end up a vegetable? Live in great pain for the rest of your horrible life?
Maybe then people might actually give a shit about me.
Apparently his head had no comeback to that one. Steve still stood there, frozen, but somehow knowing he wasn’t going to move. He closed his eyes, c’mon, just a few more seconds, it’ll all be over soon, it’ll be done, I’ll be gone…
He didn’t get the chance to think anything else before he felt a strangling pain at his throat and he was dragged backwards, almost flying through the air. He felt a quick rush of hot air pass in front of him, almost tantalizingly close, before landing roughly on his ass and almost breaking his tailbone.
He remained frozen in the same position for a few seconds, unsure as to what had just happened. His throat hurt, and he brought his hand up to rub at his neck, still shaking and confused.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He heard a soft voice beside his head, but couldn’t figure out how to turn his head to look at the source. He tried to open his mouth and say something, but nothing came out.
“I’m sorry if I hurt your neck, but I couldn’t pull you back any other way, ya know?”
Steve’s still confused, but he managed to piece a few things together. He was in front of a moving vehicle…he’d frozen and couldn’t move…someone pulled him back in the nick of time. You didn’t want to move, a tiny voice in his head reminded him, but he pushed that thought away. He’d deal with that later.
“Hey, for real, are you okay?” the voice asked, a definite note of worry to it. Steve nodded his head once, but he didn’t have the mental or physical energy to do more. He was still staring unblinkingly at the spot he was standing at just a few seconds ago…where he’d be lying, dead, if he hadn’t been pulled back.
Why the fuck am I still alive? The thought flew through his head for the briefest moment, and so quickly, that Steve could almost pretend he hadn’t considered anything of the sort. He knew better though, and it was definitely there. Steve pushed the thought away for now. Not the time.
He felt a pair of arms wrap gently around him and pull him up. He still had no idea what was going on around him, but he could feel the arm settle around his shoulders and help him walk forward, setting him down on a chair after a few seconds.
Steve took a few deep breaths, and pushed himself outside of his head, taking in his surroundings for the first time. He was seated outside a tiny café, his t-shirt wrinkled and slightly loose around his neck. He was still shaking, but took a deep breath and looked uncertainly up at the man sitting in front of him, who was looking back nervously, like Steve was some fragile China doll he’d picked up.
The man looked to be about Steve’s height, but thicker and healthier. No shit Steve, everyone’s healthier than you. He had a small beard, and olive skin that made him look almost foreign. Steve forced himself to look the man in the eye.
“Everything okay now?” the man asked him softly, as if he somehow knew that any loud noises would trigger him further. Steve nodded, but didn’t say anything. He set his hands on the table and tried to stop them from shaking so hard. What the hell, nothing had even happened to him, why was he shivering like he was in the fucking North Pole?
“I’m really sorry if I hurt you. You just, like, froze, so I had to before you got run over. But you’re okay now, okay?” the man said, still softly, and reached his hand forward to cup Steve’s, clearly trying to get him to calm down. Steve resisted the urge to pull his hand away, knowing the man was only trying to help. Besides, this was the first time anyone had touched him in a long time, and he would take anything he could get at this point.
He swallowed, and tried to remember how to speak. “I, um…thank you. Thank you for that,” he said. His voice was rough, his throat was dry, but he was proud that he’d managed to string that many words together. He swallowed again, trying to get a grip.
“Hey, it’s no big deal. Are you okay, though? You’re still pretty shaken up; do you need some water or something?” Before Steve could refuse, the man spoke again, continuing on in an unbroken flow. “Never mind, that’s a stupid question, of course you need water, stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.”
With that, he pulled away from Steve’s hands and walked into the shop behind Steve. He simply sat there, trying not to think or move or do anything that required any energy, and by the time the man returned Steve had at least semi-calmed down, and he’d also managed to control the uncontrollable shaking. He stayed completely still, feeling like he’d fall apart if he so much as moved a muscle.
The man seemed to realize this, because he seated himself next to Steve and slowly fed him small mouthfuls of water. Embarrassed as he was, Steve swallowed it down greedily, because the water felt so damn good on his dry throat and – he’d just realized this – empty stomach. The man set the plastic bottle down softly – why is everything he does so soft, Steve wondered distractedly – and looked Steve directly in the eye.
“You okay now?” he asked, like he actually cared. He doesn’t, Steve reminded himself. He just saved your life and now he wants to make sure his effort isn’t wasted. He doesn’t actually care.
“I’m good,” Steve said roughly, finally able to speak again. Never let it be said his ma didn’t raise a polite boy. “I…I’m really sorry about all that. I dunno what happened to me, and um. Thank you. For everything. Even this,” he motioned towards the almost-empty water bottle.
The man smiled, a real warm grin that made him look like an actual ray of sunshine. “You can talk!” he said, happily. “I genuinely wondered if you had like, a speech impediment, or really bad social anxiety, or something.” He paused for a second, and then continued to chatter on. “Is that offensive? I didn’t mean it that way, I just meant since you didn’t really speak or anything, I didn’t know if you were still, like frozen, or if you had an actual problem. I didn’t mean that in an offensive way, I promise.”
Steve smiled what felt like his first real smile in days. “No, that’s cool, you don’t have to apologize,” he said slowly, unable to tear his eyes away from the bubbly man in front of him. “Thank you. For everything.”
The man chuckled. “You can stop thanking me, it’s not a big deal,” he said, all casually like he saved people’s lives every day, like this was a normal thing for him. Maybe it was. Steve wouldn’t know, he didn’t spend his days being nice and happy and helping people; he spent his days being a useless, depressed waste of space.
“It is a really big deal, but um, yeah. I’ll shut up now,” he mumbled, suddenly wanting to get away. Fuck, he suddenly realized, I just ruined this guy’s day. Maybe he was late for a date or something, and now he’s not going to meet the love of his life or get married or have kids, and it’ll be all my fault.
He stood up abruptly, ready to leave, but immediately fell back down. His legs felt like jelly, and even that small action had him shaking so hard, he was practically seeing double.
“Hey, hey, what happened, everything okay?” the man asked, sounding a lot more concerned. Great, Steve, now he’s all stressed out worrying about you, nice going. He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself.
“I’m fine,” he said to the worried man beside him. “I’m really sorry, um..?”
“Tony,” the man supplied, still looking worried.
“I’m really sorry, Tony. About all of this. You probably have better places to be, and things to do, and you risked your life and wasted your time for me, I’m really sorry…”
“Okay, first off, calm down, take a deep breath,” the man – Tony – instructed, rubbing Steve’s back gently. “Second, don’t worry about it okay? I had no plans for today anyway, besides going home and watching shitty TV, so I don’t mind hanging out with you. It’s like I made a new friend,” he concluded happily, again smiling like the freaking sun. Steve loved that smile.
“I’m Steve Rogers,” Steve said shyly, offering his hand to Tony (after making sure he wasn’t shaking any more). “I, um...thank you for everything, but I really need to get home.”
Tony pouted adorably. “Does that mean you don’t wanna be my friend?”
Steve couldn’t help smiling at that. Damn, this guy is powerful. He’s made me smile more in the last five minutes than I have in the past five days. “We can definitely be friends, Tony. You seem nice.”
“Yeah, that’s how I want my first impressions on people to be,” Tony laughed. “That I ‘seem nice’.” Steve blushed but didn’t get to say anything as Tony produced a Sharpie seemingly out of nowhere and handed it to Steve. “Number, please.”
“Um…there’s nothing to write on.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Just write on my arm...Rogers, was it?”
Steve nodded and complied, holding Tony’s well-shaped arm and scrawling his number on it. “You know it’s not safe to use Sharpie on skin, right?” he asked, genuinely fearful for Tony’s safety. The man just waved his hand at Steve uncaringly.
“I don’t mind risking skin cancer for you,” he said, flashing Steve that sunshine-y smile again. That was the nicest thing anyone had said to Steve in, well, forever.
“You okay to go home alone?” Tony asked, worry evident in his voice. “D’you want me to come with you?”
Steve could think of nothing he wanted less; he hadn’t felt up to cleaning the past few days and his apartment was a mess. Certainly not the state he’d want a new ‘friend’ to see it in. He shook his head at Tony’s question, and pushed himself up. Thankfully he could stand up without wobbling too much. Walking home, however, was going to be a completely different challenge.
“Yeah, I should be going,” he nodded at Tony. “Thank you again. For everything.”
“No worries, Steve,” Tony said, smiling. “Get home safe okay?” He gave Steve a quick one-armed hug and left, leaving Steve feeling more alone than usual.