Chapter Text
Steve jerked into wakefulness with a start, heart pounding his ribcage with a force that was almost painful. Springing to his feet , he braced himself for the incoming attack..
Only to realize he was alone. And that it was currently 4:30 in the morning.
Under normal circumstances, the first rays of sunlight would have already begun peeking through the horizon. In his present circumstance, with the widows boarded shut and enemies patrolling every street corner, the world seemed dark and gray. Another new day, another painfully hopeless situation.
Steve sank slowly back down into a halfway sitting position at the edge off the mattress. The disarray state of the covers, sign of the silent battles he had been fighting in his sleep. Battles he had lost, and which had cost him everything. Shakily he sucked in a deep breath.
Not real, just a dream.
For several moments he remained thus, poised statue still in empty room that had been his home for the last few weeks. In the stale silence , his breathing came out unaturally loud, while shadows stretched out to obscure every corner. It was these moments, at his most vulnerable, where the demons that haunted him would come out to play. They'd dig their claws in, playing into his worst fears, while almost vertigo inducing waves of grief threatened to upend him.
This was not a home. Home was not a place. And Tony was...missing.
Steve wearily rubbed at the corner of his eyes.
It had been weeks since he, Natasha, Clint, and Scott, had been marooned in the warped reality known as dimension Z. A paralel version of 1940s New York controlled by Kang, that came complete with all the hospitality of a futuristic apocalypse movie. Robots patrolled the streets on a regular basis, the city was left in ruins, and if there was anyone else resisting, the team had yet to come across them. Faced with these circumstances they had been forced to set up base in an abandoned tavern of some sort. Inconspicuous and rundown enough that Kang payed them little mind, it was here that the team planned their next move. Over the past few weeks they had won small victories, but ultimately were unable to move forward. They were keeping afloat but not much else. Until they came up with a better solution the four of them were all trapped here.
At any rate, it had given Steve purpose. Useful, in serving as a distraction from his troubling thoughts, while allowing him to pretend that he was still fighting for something.(what would he do if there was nothing left to fight for? ). Still, it was never enough. There were times when he had been lulled into the false comfort of sleep, only to wake up nearly paralyzed by the force of emotions running rampant through his mind.
Though his thoughts drifted with dreamlike irregularity, the one one cold hard truth was that acceptance equalled defeat.
So Steve persevered...
Denial
Early on Steve had been so hopeful, perhaps naively so in retrospect, when he had first heard Tony's voice through the Inter dimensional transponder. Even if the situation had been far from ideal, hearing one another's voice had been a lifeline of sorts for both of them. They had kept one another company through the long and lonely nights, working through this together while talking optimistically about the future they were going to have.
Then the Leader had come calling. If the first time he had heard Tony's voice come through the transponder had been one of the most beautiful sounds Steve had heard, then the brief note of confusion before he was harshly cut off had been one of the worst.
It was also the last time Steve would hear Tony's voice.
When Dr. Foster had bleakly explained the hopelessness of the situation, the impossibility of locating Tony's signal (if he was even still alive) ,Steve had refused to believe it. Tony who had always beat impossible odds and had saved the world countless times, dead ? Impossible.
Even when they had been whisked away to Dimension Z. Even when the rest of his team had started to lose hope or give up, he stubbornly held on to the belief that they would find Tony. Even when the chances of a happy ending drifted further and further out of reach, Steve still refused to give up hope.
It was the only thing he had left
Anger
Steve had probably never felt so hopeless, so straight up useless, as he did now, stuck on a twisted dimension without a plan or clue. The lack of activity(shouldn't they be trying to find a way back? To rescue Tony?) combined with overlayering feelings of hopelessness, had in turn morphed into frustration and a seething deep rooted anger.
This anger manifested itself in small ways mostly.
He had become reckless and impulsive, in combat. Other times he would purposely isolate himself from the rest of the team for hours on an end. And to his relief? (Was it relief?) They had given him space. There were times, when he felt like he was going to explode from all this pent up frustration. Fighting against Kang's robots gave him some outlet for his anger, alotting a temporary means to release all the tension building up. But it was never enough. The anger was always there
Most telling of all , was the anger he directed at himself. It was less explosive, but no less vitriol, being more of a slow burn nagging feel which left him all hollow and burned out inside. This self hatred was kindled by the guilt that he should have done more, should have tackled it together.
"You lead I'll follow."
Only Tony had gone where he hadn't been able to follow, and Steve had never felt less worthy of the Captain America mantle.
Bargaining
There was no way to turn back time. Steve of all people knew this cold, hard truth. Yet it had always been human nature to constantly muse over all the "could haves" and lament the ways in which things should have been done.
Steve himself tried to bargain for many days after the fateful day that had twisted them apart. He would have given almost anything for a better, happier, outcome, regardless of consequences to himself.
That moment, when Ultron had taken over Tony's body, had rendered Steve frozen with shock and horror. He could only watch helplessly as the humanity die out from those familiar soft brown eyes. It had been one of the worst moments of his life and one which he continued to relive in his dreams for weeks after. He had thought his resolve unshakeable, but now.. There had been no plan for what to do when the one you loved been turned into a monster. No solution which he deemed acceptable.
For days after, when the initial horror and shock had worn iff, a single question had haunted him, "Could he have done it?"
It was only Dr.Strange's last minute arrival which had possibly prevented the unthinkable from being a reality. And of the two evils it had seemed like the obvious choice at the time, a sacrifice which Tony himself had been willing to make.
But was it really the only choice? He would never know, but always wonder. Fate was set in stone. For better or worse there was no bargaining.
Depression
Steve was not stupid. He didn't miss the way his teammates conversation would often dwindle to a hush the moment he entered a room. Or the way they all had started acting as if they were walking on eggshells when around him. Treating him as if he was too fragile to handle the "truth". Tony had become the taboo subject that was on all their minds, but which none would dare to speak of.
Not even Steve.
Tony was always on Steve's mind though. If not at the forefront, then lingering in the background like a ghost. Haunting him. There was happiness mixed in sure, memories of fast action and many, many nights spent making sweet love to one another, without a care in the world. If anything it only made the absence more sharp and painful. Tony's absence felt like a hole in his soul, always there, steadily growing larger and more painful every day.
It was moments such as waking up alone in an empty bed that hit hardest. For Steve their relationship \ had always been the small things, falling asleep in one another's arms, listening to the sound Tony's breathing after Steve had won in persuading him into a rare early night's sleep, and waking up together so that the first thing he saw was Tony's face. Steve would have given anything for just one more day.
Clint, Natasha, and Scott were great, but he couldn't help wishing it was Tony here instead. Not only because Tony would know exactly what to do, but that..He. Missed. Tony. Simple as that.
Fighting the sadness was a constant battle, and one which he never truly got the upper hand in. But he was a soldier through and through. There was too much at stake to give in.
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Stop. Rinse. Repeat.
After a long hot shower, Steve found himself staring blankly at the dinghy mirror which adorned his private bathroom. It was not exactly a pleasant visage. His reflection stared back at him with hollow eyes that spoke to several nights without adequate sleep and a certain aura of world weariness that he'd never noticed before. He was coming undone at the seams, and looked like he had seen hell and kept going back for more. Unbidden, a small smirk flitted briefly across his face, as he tried to imagine what Tony would say if he could see him now.
Something has to give.
Everyday ran like clockwork. His thoughts taking him through the same well worn path over and over again, without any signs of stopping. Denying that Tony was dead, anger at his inability to do anything, bargaining with fate which wouldn't give, and the depression that had trailed him like a cloud. He has already gone through the cycle a dozen times, he was prepared to go a dozen more. In his heart, he knew the only way he could end the cycle was through acceptance. The bigger part of him however refused to accept it, irrational perhaps, but to accept was to admit defeat.
And hope, fragile thing that it was , was all he had left.
"I'll find you Tony. Just hang on a little longer." Steve promised softly, forcing a determined expression on his face.
Captain America never broke his promises.