Work Text:
“Meredith! Mer, wait. Where are you going?” Steve asked and followed her to the elevator.
“What do you think?” She spat and turned around violently, glared at Steve.
“You can't leave. Not now, please...”
“Why should I stay?” She snarled but she put her suitcase down. For now. She folded her arms in front of her chest.
“Mer, you can't leave him. He needs you,” Steve tried but the smaller woman just raised her brow and Steve sighed.
“He doesn't need me. He needs him and we both know that this is impossible.” She tapped her finger against her arm and Steve rubbed the back of his head.
“He's still grieving, Mer. You have to understand.”
“Oh, I do, really. I do understand, Steve. And I'm sorry for him, honestly. But it's nearly two years now. Twenty-one months since he died. We're together now for nine months and I can't take it any longer. Tony is either locked up in his workshop and building things like a maniac or he lies in his bed, stares at the ceiling and doesn't even recognize that I'm here,” she yelled now and gestured with her hands. “I understand that he has lost someone important to him but he needs help. Help I can't give him.”
When Steve opened his mouth to object she stopped him with a harsh hand-gesture.
“Do you know that it's six weeks since we had sex the last time? Do you know that he called me 'Clint' in bed? More than once.” She spat and Steve paled.
“No, I didn't know that.”
“Get him help. I'm outta here as long as I have a little self-respect left.” She grabbed her suitcase and hit the button to call the elevator with more force than necessary. “I'll send someone to get the rest of my stuff.”
“I'm sorry, Meredith. For, you know...” he gestured vaguely in the direction of Tony's workshop.
“It's not your fault, Steve. I should've realized that he's not over his loss. Not by far. Get him help. I mean it. He needs it,” she said and when the elevator arrived she stepped in and pressed the button for the ground floor. “Bye, Steve.”
The door closed and Meredith was gone. Steve sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Jarvis? Where's Tony?”
“He's in his workshop, Captain,” the AI answered.
“Of course, he is,” he muttered under his breath and went to the stairs. It was faster than waiting for the elevator to come back. When he entered the floor with Tony's workshop he could hear Guns N'Roses songs blaring out of the speakers. It was deafening but he knew that he had gotten the CD from Clint and he refused listening to anything else since he died.
“Jarvis!” Steve screamed and gestured with his hand in front of one of the cameras and the AI understood, turned the volume down. Steve went deeper into the workshop and found Tony on a workbench, staring into space.
“Tony?” Steve asked when he approached him and he turned his head, looked at him and he seemed so forlorn. “Tony, are you okay?” He asked and Tony shook his head.
“The music is so quiet.”
“Tony, come on. The loud music isn't good for you.” Steve sat down on a rolling stool beside Tony and the genius looked at the things in front of him. Steve wasn't an engineer but even he could see that this was gear Clint would've used, another high-tech quiver and he closed his eyes for a second.
“Tony, what are you doing here?” He asked. Tony looked at his workbench, took in the things he had there and then he turned to Steve, tears in his eyes.
“I... I thought...” he swallowed and Steve saw him trembling slightly. “He needs it when he comes back,” he finally whispered when Steve closed the distance and pulled him into a hug.
“Oh, Tony.” He stroked his head and the other man sobbed into his shirt.
“I miss him, Steve,” he whispered and shook in Steve's embrace. “I... I can't think, can't breathe. I needed to do something. Something for him.”
“We all miss him. Not like you, I don't want to talk that down, Tony. But we miss him, too. He was our friend and even if Kate is great, she's not Clint. I know that.” He still held him and stroked his back.
“Two minutes, Steve,” Tony murmured. “Two fucking minutes.”
“I know.” Steve remembered the day, twenty-one months ago, when Tony had tried to save Clint but was just two minutes too late and he had to watch the quinjet Clint piloted getting shot down. The remains fell into the Hudson River and they only found his bow. The techs said that the explosion was so hot that there's no body left. They had buried just his bow.
“I would give everything. I mean it. Everything. My money, my company, my arc-reactor, Iron Man... my life. It doesn't mean anything and I would trade it gladly to get him back.”
“I know that, Tony. But we can't change it. We just can't. We have to accept that life goes on. You have to live again.”
“I can't. I've never loved another person as much as him. I can't live without him.” He freed himself out of Steve's arms and he looked so young and vulnerable right now.
“Meredith is gone,” he said quietly and Tony sniffed and shrugged.
“I can't blame her,” Tony mumbled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, smeared some grease into his face but he didn't care. “She deserves better.”
“Tony, she...” Steve started but Tony interrupted him.
“No, she should've gone long time ago.”
“Don't say that,” Steve tried once again but Tony slumped down, his head onto his workbench.
“I haven't been good for her. I hurt her. She deserves someone who knows how to value her.” Tony mumbled into his scruffy beard. “I'm a bad person.”
“No, Tony. No, you aren't. You just need to get out of your workshop, get out of your Tower.” Steve grabbed his shoulder and hoisted him up. “Why don't you come down to the communal floor this evening?”
“I don't want to see anyone.” Tony murmured.
“You can't stay in here forever.” Steve said and this time Tony nodded. He rose and staggered slowly to the door.
“Yeah, you're right. I'll go to bed.” Steve got up as well and followed him, grabbed his shoulder.
“Please, Tony. Come on,” he said and forced him to look up at him. “Clint wouldn't want you to live like that.”
“You've already said that. And how do you know that he didn't want me to live like that? Did you ask him?” Tony's voice got louder.
“Yes, Clint is dead but you are alive. We both knew him and we both know this is not what he would want for you! You are alive. So live!” Steve yelled now.
“Pepper is gone, Clint is dead, Meredith is gone. I have nothing to live for, Steve.” Tony murmured quietly. And then he turned and went to the elevator. “Everything... everyone that meant something to me once is gone. I'm alone.” He went over to him, stopped only a few inches away from him.
“No, Tony. No, you're not alone. We're here for you. We're always here for you.” Steve pressed his finger into Tony's chest and glared at him now. “And there is a reason to live. Live for Clint, to honor his sacrifice. Don't let it be meaningless. Live for him.”
Tony looked at him for a very long moment. And then he just turned and walked away. Steve sighed inwardly. He knew what Tony would do now. He would go to his penthouse, would climb into his bed, stare at the ceiling and wait for the one man that would never come back to him.