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The penthouse had been dark for days. So had the lab, because Tony couldn’t muster the energy to even leave his bed. In the months since his recovery, there had been good days and bad days, and as time stretched on, the good days fortunately outweighed the bad. But some days, when his mind started to get all twisted up in agony, there would be little things that set him off and a bad day could become a bad week.
This time, the lingering traces of a nightmare he couldn’t remember still tickled at his subconscious as he woke, and one glance at the red and gold arm where flesh should have been sent his heart racing and his breath catching in his lungs. So he had begged Friday to shut off the lights and lock down his floor, and burrowed back under the blankets.
He wasn’t even sure how many days ago that was. Every time Friday’s gentle voice announced a new message, or someone requesting entrance to the penthouse, he had either issued a quiet denial or had ignored the request completely. And all the while, he stayed a shaking lump under the covers.
Tony was half in and half out of consciousness when he felt the bed dip beside him, and suddenly the edge of the blanket closest to his face lifted just enough so a pair of bright brown eyes could peek in at him. When his own opened just enough to meet Peter’s, the younger man flashed him a soft smile. “Hey, stranger.”
“Peter? How did you get in here?”
Peter knelt next to the bed, holding the blanket up so he could keep his eyes on Tony. “Pepper gave me her override code, since you weren’t letting anybody in. We’re all really worried, nobody has been able to reach you in days.”
Tony closed his eyes to block out the concerned look on Peter’s face, but the kid’s expression was splashed across his eyelids. He curled himself up tighter, and ducked his head to hide his own face. “I’m fine, Pete. Just a.. just a bad day. Days, I guess. The-the arm, I can’t.. look at it.”
“Oh, Tony.” The blanket dropped for a few seconds, and Tony could hear rustling that definitely sounded like Peter taking off clothing. Then it was lifting again, and this time Peter was sliding in next to him. He tried to quietly protest, but the kid just slid closer, wrapping himself around the older man. For a few moments, Tony held himself stiff in the silence of the now shared cocoon. But when Peter started gently running his fingers through Tony’s knotted and dirty hair, it was like all of the tension in his body let go.
The tears started before he could even think about stopping them, flowing freely until he was quietly sobbing into Peter’s shoulder. His arms came up to wrap tightly around the younger man’s waist, clinging desperately. He felt Peter press a kiss to the top of his head, and it wasn’t long before the crying drained what little energy he had. The last thing he heard before he drifted away was Peter’s quiet reassurance.
“It’s ok, Tony, let it go, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”