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It had been easy, starting to drink again. Too easy, probably. He had spent years without even thinking about it, years telling himself that he stopped for a reason, that not drinking was the right thing to do. Of course, back then he would have had Steve controlling him, reminding him that there was an entire world full of possibilities outside of a glass of good scotch with ice. Yeah, Steve. Steve, who promised he’d always be by his side. Steve who swore he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Tony. Well, where was Steve now? Tony had tried, he really did. He’d spent months trying to put down that letter, trying to go on with his life and just forget about Steve and his painful words. The thing is, forgetting Steve and being sober at the same time was not something Tony could manage to do. And forgetting Steve was so damn hard that being sober while at it seemed like a waste of energy.
Back in the months right after Siberia, Tony would just sit in his office, trying to avoid talking to his friends, because lying to them had been another awful side of that situation. He knew he could have told someone about his final fight with Steve, at least Rhodey, but he couldn’t make himself. He didn’t want the world to see Steve the way he was forced to back in the cold of Siberia.
And so he started drinking again, because it was easy, it was easier than remembering.
He’d taken him almost a full year before he’d finally decided to go public again. Both Pepper and Rhodey suggested he’d take it slow, but they agreed it was time the world saw Iron Man going on with his life, promoting the Sokovia Accords to all the new kids with superpowers in the world. Going public had been a lot easier than he would have expected. Tony would just get up after another sleepless night, he’d have a drink or two, and then he was ready to face the world. Alone. Alone, even when Steve had sworn to never leave him alone again. Even when Steve knew how important those words were to Tony, he had left him alone.
Falling back in that dark hole that his life had been before going sober had been the easiest part, actually. It was easy to drink during the entire day when none of your co-workers cared about it. He would simply have a couple of drinks each hour, in his office, without anyone disturbing him or lecturing him about responsibilities. Lunch was really easy, since everyone else had at least a glass of wine while eating. And his afternoons would just go by, without Tony being able to even remember most of the stuff he did or the events he took part in. At the end of the day, he would just go to bed, drunk, crying himself to sleep. And pretending everything was alright had been easy, since the next morning he would just kill off his hangover by starting to drink again.
And that letter had been in his office the whole time, Tony knew it. Even after several drinks, even when he couldn’t even stand because of how drunk he was, Tony could remember that damn letter was there. And after a couple of months after receiving it, Tony swore he’d never read it again. Because Tony could hear Steve’s voice saying that every damn time he’d read it. It didn’t matter how many months had passed, Steve’s voice kept being in his dreams, in his nightmares, he kept hearing Steve’s voice calling him for breakfast, or telling him he’d had enough to drink. And that was the worst part of it, because he knew Steve didn’t care, he knew he’d just been fooling himself believing that Steve would be out there somewhere thinking about Tony. Steve didn’t care. He’d chosen Bucky over him, he’d chosen a life running away from justice over a life waking up every morning next to him. And that was the worst part.
Helping the young Parker with his new life as Spider-man had helped. He couldn’t exactly drink as much as he wanted if he had to meet with a kid who looked up to him like he was his father. And trying to be some kind of father figure had also helped. He’d thought about Howard a lot. He’d thought about how Howard had always liked Steve better, even after the world thought he was dead. No matter what, Tony had always been the second kid, and Howard clearly didn’t have time for seconds.
It had been more than a year since the fight in Siberia, and Tony almost didn’t think anymore about the letter in his office. He’d started to drink less. Sleeping had become a lot easier, the nightmares started to fade before he was forced to wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Looking happy when in public was a mask he’d been able to put on since childhood, but the more time passed, the more he could do that without any drink in his veins. He would smile a lot more, especially when with Peter. He tried to concentrate on his armour, updating both his and Peter’s suits. Going back to his workshop had been painful, at first, with all those memories of Steve in there trying to push their way back in. But Tony knew he couldn’t fool himself, no more. The first time he’d cried until the had no tears left to cry, and then he stood there, trying to remember why he was supposed to hate Steve, not love him.
And after that time, it all started to be easy. He would wake up after a good night of sleep, he’d look at his bar and walk past it. He’d make appearances in public, giving speeches that sustained the Sokovia Accords. He would ask for water at lunch, trying to have conversations with the people surrounding him, trying to be the best boss he could possibly be. He spent most of his evenings working in his workshop, and Peter would ofter call just to know how his work was going, or to tell him all about his school days, the test he had and the teachers he didn’t like.
And so two years had passed, and Tony couldn’t even remember where he kept that letter. Two years had passed, and every scar he had from their fights had faded away. Two years, and Tony had finally started to live again, trying to be the best version himself. Two years, and Steve was just a bitter memory, hidden deep down in Tony’s mind.