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James Rhodes was no stranger to being hurt by Tony Stark.
There was that time in college when he had to practically pull Tony, drunk off his ass and post-vomit gross, off the ground of some grimy bar, only for Tony to come back to himself at the last possible second, head snapping up and smacking Rhodey right in the nose. Rhodey had been stunned speechless, silent for a second until the pain caught up to him and he groaned, swiping away some of the blood flowing down his face. Tony had turned to look at Rhodey over his shoulder, an apology on his lips, before a wave of nausea took over him again, and he threw up all over both of them.
There was that time after Tony’s parents died when Rhodey had tried to coax Tony into getting some rest, concerned about how Tony was practically swaying on his feet because of exhaustion. Tony had just burst into a rant about how he was fine, how he didn’t need to sleep, and that Rhodey should just fuck off. He had punctuated that last statement with a shove of Rhodey’s shoulders, forcing him to stumble back a few feet to keep his balance. The momentary flash of hurt Rhodey had felt was quickly abandoned as Tony promptly burst into tears and collapsed against the wall.
There were the times where the two of them had something planned, a dinner, meeting up for a cup of coffee, or even just hanging out at Tony’s house, where Rhodey would show up a few minutes early, only to find himself waiting for ten, twenty, thirty minutes, with nothing happening. Upon questioning Tony’s whereabouts, either JARVIS or Tony himself would reply, words littered with apologies and promises of ‘next time.’ Rhodey would just sigh sadly and get some work done, since he had the time.
There was the instant Rhodey knew Tony had been captured. As soon as the dust settled, and bodies and bullets and blood covered the sand and dirt beneath Rhodey’s feet, and Tony was nowhere to be found, the feeling of despair nearly had his knees buckling. It was like someone had taken a melon baller to his insides, and Rhodey wanted nothing more than to disappear, to rewind the day just a few hours, to see the smug grin donning Tony’s face as he stopped Rhodey from getting into the ‘Funvee’ one more time.
But this? This was a kind of hurt Rhodey had never felt before. The relief Rhodey had felt upon seeing Tony in the middle of the desert, Tony’s blinding smile genuine, if not a little strained around the edges, almost had him in tears. He had held onto Tony the hardest he had ever then, free hand cupping the back of Tony’s head and holding him close, like he might disappear again.
That relief had only lasted so long, as once they tried loading him into the helicopter, Tony had turned into something Rhodey had never seen before. After years and years of knowing Tony, Rhodey knew all different forms of Tony. The Tony who smiled and turned on the charm for the cameras, the Tony who was riddled with grief and loneliness when his brain caught up with him in the early hours of the morning, the Tony who was quiet and gentle when talking to his bots when he thought no one was looking.
This Tony was a stranger. As soon as any soldiers who weren’t Rhodey tried to get close to them, Tony had flinched like a wild animal, holding onto Rhodey just a bit tighter. As they tried to get him to stand up, Tony keep one hand on Rhodey at all times, refusing to let any of the other soldiers touch him. Rhodey had to be the one to load him into the helicopter alone, helping him strap in and passing him a bottle of water. When buckling him in, Rhodey had finally gotten a good look at the thing in Tony’s chest, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. But as soon as Tony had noticed him staring, he had tensed, dropping his hand from where it was holding onto Rhodey’s arm, and bringing it up to cover the thing in his chest protectively.
Rhodey didn’t have to be told twice and quickly finished buckling Tony in before taking a seat next to him, but the damage had been done. It was like Tony had completely shut down, staring down at his lap and not moving. He didn’t say another word the whole flight back to base.
Once they touch back down, things exploded into chaos. The doors of the helicopter opened to reveal a number of people, all of which began speaking at once. Multiple people on phone calls, people trying to get information from Tony as to where he had been held and any information he could give them, doctors trying to help Tony out of the plane and onto a stretcher, only to balk at what was going on with his chest.
The chatter washed over Rhodey in a wave of static and as if on autopilot, he helped Tony out of the helicopter by himself and handed him off to the doctors, trying to field away all the questions until Tony was feeling better. As if his interference reminded them of his existence, their questions were quickly directed at him instead, and Rhodey found himself being dragged away for a debrief, only getting a second to turn around and look back at where the doctors had managed to get Tony onto a gurney with an oxygen mask strapped over his face.
His eyes met Rhodey’s and he could practically feel the fear and desperation in them, begging Rhodey to help him. As they were pulled in opposite directions, Rhodey felt like his heart had been thrown into a blender.
After more meetings and debriefs than Rhodey had ever experienced in his entire career in the military, they had finally released him to see Tony again. Apparently he had prevented anyone from getting near whatever was in his chest, so not even the doctors knew what it was, and he wouldn’t let them sedate him in any manner. But he had allowed them to treat some of his burns and cuts along his arms and legs (nothing near his torso), and had let them hook him up to some fluids and antibiotics.
The hallways were nearly empty as Rhodey made his way to the hospital wing of the base, the light from the moon reflecting across the linoleum floors. Exhaustion was catching up to him, but he continued on, itching to see Tony again, to make sure this was real and Tony was here and alive.
He opened the door to Tony’s room quietly, not wanting to wake him up if he had been asleep, but stopped in the middle of the doorway once his eyes landed on Tony. Tony was sitting up in bed, legs thrown over the side and looking out the window into the night, his back to Rhodey.
“You should be resting,” Rhodey said quietly, not wanting to disturb the stillness of the room.
Tony’s head whipped around to face Rhodey at the sound of his voice, and he relaxed significantly. He just shrugged in reply, staring at Rhodey for another moment, eyes sad and unbelieving, before turning back around slowly, like every movement he made took up too much energy.
Rhodey sighed and toed off his shoes, sliding them under the chairs pressed up along the wall near the door. He stripped his jacket off and belt, tossing them onto the chair, before walking over to Tony, speaking quietly.
“Come on. Let’s get some rest,” he said, stopping a foot or so from the bed, not wanting to scare Tony on accident by getting to close.
Tony turned around again and after taking a look at Rhodey’s outfit, nodded softly and pulled his legs back onto the bed, scooting over so Rhodey had room. Because of whatever was in his chest, Rhodey assumed, Tony was forced to lie on his back, only leaving room for Rhodey if he stayed on his side. He climbed onto the bed, being careful not to jostle Tony, and settled onto his side.
He stared at Tony, eyes wandering from his face, covered in bandages, to the soft glowing light coming from underneath his hospital gown. Tony just stared up at the ceiling, face blank, not meeting Rhodey’s gaze.
They stayed like that for a while, just basking in the silence, and the warmth where Rhodey’s chest was pressed up against Tony’s arm. Rhodey knew better than to pressure Tony into talking, knowing that Tony would talk in his own time. All he cared about was that Tony was here in front of him, warm and alive. He took a shaky breath, trying to will away the tears of relief he had felt nagging at him all day. He leaned his head forward to press against Tony’s shoulder, grounding him.
Tony let out a choked noise, but Rhodey didn’t look up at him, giving him time to organize his thoughts.
“They wanted me to build Jericho for them,” Tony eventually got out, voice uneven and crackly.
Rhodey looked up then eyes filling with tears, trying to stop his brain from filling in all the gaps in the story with his own worst case scenario, knowing very well that the worst was very much possible.
“Jericho, Rhodey,” Tony repeated quietly, weak. “But I couldn’t. I - I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t build it Rhodey, I couldn’t -” his voice cut off with a sob, hands coming up to cover his face as his whole body shook with the force of them.
“Shh, shh,” Rhodey said, tears freely flowing down his face. He reached up with his free hand to grasp at one of Tony’s, linking their fingers together and holding onto him tightly. “I’ve got you now. It’s okay. Shh, it’s okay,” he repeated, comforting him as best he could the way they were situated, trying to ground him.
After a few minutes Tony finally managed to calm down, his eyes red and bags under his eyes even worse. He took a few shaky breaths before meeting Rhodey’s eyes.
“I don’t think I can sleep tonight,” he admitted quietly, eyes pleading.
Rhodey just gave him a sad smile and nodded.
“That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” he said quietly, then looked down at their joined hands. He pulled them apart slowly, making Tony choke out a noise of protest, which he quickly soothed away. “Can I-?” Rhodey asked tentatively, bringing his arm to wrap around Tony’s waist, holding him tightly.
Tony just nodded and brought his hand up to cover Rhodey’s arm, rubbing his thumb along it softly. Rhodey once again had his head pressed against Tony’s shoulder, eyes shut, basking in the warmth and closeness of Tony’s body. He smelled like sweat and dirt and antiseptic, but it was the best thing Rhodey had ever smelled.
“Thank you for coming for me,” Tony said after a while, almost startling Rhodey out of his half-asleep state.
“Always,” Rhodey said, matching his tone. “I’ll always come back for you. But you can’t do this to me again, Tones. I’m getting old, I’m not as young as I used to be.”
That startled a laugh out of Tony. It was soft and quiet, barely anything, but it was the most beautiful thing Rhodey had ever heard. He grinned against Tony’s arm, happy to have Tony back beside him.
“Yeah, let’s never do that again,” Tony agreed, lacking any humor, a sharp contrast to the kind of response normally coming from Tony. His voice cracked a little at the end, and Rhodey just held him tighter in response.