Work Text:
I'm slowly killin' myself
I'm trying so hard at the back of the shelf
Tony jiggles his keys in the doorknob, sighing as his fifth attempt to get into his apartment also fails. He pulls out the keys and kicks at the door (for good measure) before slumping down against it. He can't deal with this shit anymore. He instead reaches for his phone and lets himself get pulled into the meaningless void that is the internet.
Next thing he knows, he's waking up against his apartment door on the ground and is extremely late for work.
"Shit shit shit-" he hissed to himself as he shot up and attempted to get in his apartment one last time. Of course, now he was able to get in his apartment, stumbling in and trying to think of what he needed to do.
He hated when he was late to something by accident. It always messed up the rest of his day. Sometimes, he showed up late to work on purpose for- various reasons he tends to try and forget about, but almost never was tardy by accident. He made sure of it- there's a certain routine to his life that he's tried his hardest to stick to, one that keeps him in some sort of comfortable state.
It's just the same every day
I'm writing these songs that will never get played
During work days, it's the same boring as always- wake up two hours early, procrastinate in bed for 20 minutes, shower in 10 (with the lights mostly off), get dressed in 5, fix his hair in 30, get himself some sort of breakfast to eat when he arrives at the base, then drive to said base, getting there almost always right on time.
Occasionally, he'll procrastinate for another 20-30 minutes so he shows up a little late for work for (once again) reasons he tries not to think about.
But today, he panics in his apartment for a good minute or so, before ultimately deciding to just get in his car and speed to work instead.
It's fine when it's intentional, but something about it being accidental just stresses him out way more than he wishes was possible. He gets to work at about 10:10, parking his car and taking a moment to collect himself. He's the cool, careless, smartass social media manager, and everything is fine.
All he has to do is pretend that he isn't stressed and doesn't care that he's late.
That's easy, he's done that before- usually having gotten to sleep in his own bed and not the floor but whatever. He uses the car mirror to try and fix his hair, quickly realizing he'll need to get it wet to try and activate the leftover hair gel from the previous day. He'll have to run in and fix his hair in the bathroom before anyone sees it all unruly- which is a total nightmare for him. He just needs to act natural, even if there's nothing natural about him right now, wearing the same clothes from yesterday and having insanely unruly and unkempt hair. He looks like he's lost it- finally cracked. But he hasn't and hasn't before and nobody should be thinking that, especially about him. He's got a perfect life and totally doesn't mind that everyone hates him at work or that some nights he can't stop thinking about how goddamn alone he is.
Yeah no he's fine. He's got thousands of followers and people like him and his jokes, and support him through his failed attempts at starting a feud with Wendy's. It's great, and he's fine.
He's fine.
Tony gets out of his car, instinctually still trying to flatten his hair as he makes his way inside. He feels people’s eyes on him, but when he looks around, nobody's watching.
"Woah you're looking- bad." Angela's voice says from behind him.
"Or maybe I just didn't have time to get ready after the time I spent with your mom last night."
"Right, well Naird's been looking for you, so instead of bragging about how you fucked my mom last night you should go talk to him instead." She said, beginning to walk away.
"You were the one that-" Tony attempted to retort before realizing she was out of earshot. "oh fuck it." He darts to a nearby restroom to finally fix his hair and straighten his suit out (again) before heading to General Naird's office, planning to pull some sort of daily tweet out of his ass. Just keep it simple and attack Wendy's again.
I get told what's wrong and what's right
Well, neverfuckingmind, he'll just post some boring update today then, with General Has-No-Sense-Of-Humor's approval of course-
He slumped into his office to practically pout and respond to tweets for the rest of the day, not feeling like doing his usual rounds.
Nobody came to see him.
That night, the silence in his apartment (that thankfully let him in) was deafening. He sat on his bed, and couldn't bring himself to do anything but just sit there. He's not sure how long he sat there, just letting himself slip from reality. It was too quiet, and his mind was too loud, screaming all the thoughts he usually kept quiet, the thoughts he desperately tried to ignore each day.
Though he could just assume that nobody needed him today, it doesn’t change the fact that nobody came to see him. Nobody needed him. They could have been busy
or
they wanted to avoid him. Tony knows he's different. And many most people get sick of him soon after meeting him, but he's not that bad of a guy, right? Sure, he makes jokes and quips at people, but that's his thing! He's the lovable asshole. And he only acts that way because he needs to! It's the only way he can stay safe. He can't be taken seriously if he's his normal, disappointment of a self. If he pretends to be all the things he isn't, one day it'll be true, right?
He slept for maybe an hour and spent the rest of the night trying and failing to stop his mental spiral.
And everyone's dying, so I keep on trying
To make 'em proud before they are gone
In the morning, he tried to return to his usual routine, getting to work only ten minutes late today. He prepared the daily tweet and reviewed it with General Naird, somehow convincing him to let him post it by making the same sort of vaguely age-ist comment that he's made before. As he left, Brad made some sort of snarky comment about the dark circles under his eyes. Tony couldn't find the energy to respond, briskly walking past him instead. He spent the rest of the morning scrolling through Twitter, before making his way to the cafeteria for lunch. He sat by himself, watching the people sitting together from a distance. He munched sadly on his macaroni, pretending to be content. He swung his feet up on the other chair, secretly wishing someone else would fill the space.
He left work early and did his work at home, nobody was going to notice anyway.
But can't someone help me?
Oh, please, someone help me
I don't care, anyone, anything
'Cause I'm so sick of being so lonely
As Friday came, Tony was tired, so, so tired. Not only from his lack of sleep, but of his life. It sounds so dramatic, but when hasn't he been?
He still didn't sleep well and showed up to work early the next day, not wanting to be alone.
Barely anyone was at the base, so Tony decided to walk around instead of doing work. As he strolled along, he noticed the lights in the science lair (or whatever it was called) were on and decided to poke in and see who was there.
Dr. Chan looked up from his work area. "Scarapiducci?"
And of course, it was him. He should have guessed, but he'll blame the oversight on the sleep deprivation. "Dr. Chan! What are you doing here so early?"
"I could ask you the same thing." Dr. Chan replied, not looking up from his work.
"Okay fair, but what if I just wanted to get here early because I love working so much? So you're really just questioning my work ethic."
"Are you sure it doesn't have anything to do with those dark circles under your eyes?" Dr. Chan briefly looked up to point at the rings.
Tony raised his eyebrows "Really?". He pulled his phone out and checked his screen. "Jesus fuck I look like a raccoon."
"You look good- for a racoon that is."
"Thanks." Tony chuckled, gently poking under his eyes now.
I don't have a romantic life
"What is going on? Angela told me yesterday you looked bad. She couldn't come up with another word for it either, just bad." Chan asked with a slightly inquisitive tone.
"Just a little tired is all."
Chan sighed, at least he tried. If Tony didn't want to tell him what was going on, that was his business. Probably. Maybe.
Tony left the room as Chan went back to work. He had taken up enough of his time anyway.
The rest of the work day flew by with Tony burying his nose into his work, barely interacting with people again since two of them have ever so obviously noticed how different he's acting. Which- they're wrong about. He's fine, sure he's acting a little different, but that's only from being tired and a little burnt out. That's all. As he left work, he drove to the usual bar he visited.
His weekend routine is different from the rest of his week (obviously). On Fridays, he heads straight for the same gay bar in a neighboring town. He either a) gets wasted, b) has a few drinks then leaves with some stranger, c) gets wasted then leaves with some stranger. He wouldn't call any of it fun, but at least it's a good distraction way to unwind and/or get STDs.
'Cause I go to parties sometimes
And I'll kiss a boy and pretend for the night
As he sat down at the bar top, the usual bartender walked up. "Hey Tony, the usual?"
"Yep! Whiskey on many rocks."
"Why the fuck would you have whiskey on many rocks? Why not say whiskey on the rocks?" A familiar voice rang behind him.
"Well I want extra ice but I still want to say 'on the rocks'." Tony said, without looking up, he knew where this was going- first they act like they care about you only to coax you into having sex with them. He's never met anyone different. It hurts, but it's not really their fault that they don't want anything else from him. He pretends not to give a shit about that right now, choosing to forgo the courting. "Cut the shit, your place or mine?" Tony sighs as he looks up, putting a face to the voice. Oh- woops.
"I'm flattered but buy a guy a drink first." Chan slid into the chair next to him.
"Shit, sorry man. I didn't expect this to be your scene."
"A gay bar?" Dr. Chan raised his eyebrows.
"No- a bar in general."
"Hey- I drink alcoholic beverages from time to time."
"I'm even less convinced now. Alcoholic beverages?"
"Well what about you? Are you always at bars like these?"
"Every friday." The bartender came by and set his drink down.
"Thanks Trevor." Tony said.
"That explains what you said back there." Chan slightly muttered, still intending for Tony to hear.
"Sorry-" Tony grimaced. Not his best moment, propositioning his co-worker but whatever. "You still haven't told me what you're doing here."
"Would you believe me if I told you I just wanted a drink?"
Tony shook his head. "You're more of the type of guy that would down a whole box of Capri-Suns while watching some nature documentary by National Geographic for the 8th time rather than the type that goes to a bar to get a drink and just so happens to bump into their colleague."
"I suppose."
"So?"
"I wanted to make sure you didn't fall asleep at the wheel on your drive home."
"Why didn't you just offer me a ride or something?"
"You don't seem like the type of person who accepts help easily."
Tony falls silent.
"So I ended up here-" Chan sighed. "And since I'm here, I might as well get some sort of drink. Afterall, I'm all out of Capri-Suns at home."
Tony smiled a bit before taking a sip of his whiskey, grimacing at the sting.
"Why do you drink it if it clearly makes you uncomfortable?"
"It's just kinda nice, like the first sip of a freshly opened soda, it burns a little but is still satisfying. Plus it just helps."
"Helps what?"
"Quiet down my mind some, it's always screaming so loudly."
"Is that why you haven't been sleeping well?"
"Among other things, yes." Tony sipped his drink again. "But enough about me- what's up with you lately?"
"It's probably not very interesting to you but-"
"Nah man, I'm sure it's plenty interesting, more so than I let on half the time."
"Oh, um anyways, I recently found out about a new property of Aloe barbadensis miller."
"Dude- english."
"Aloe Vera?"
Tony blinked at him.
"Green pointy leaves with spikes on the sides and that clear gelly stuff inside?"
"That’s better! You have to stop assuming I know things! Like baseline- assume I know nothing."
Chan sighs. "I'm seriously doubting your interest levels right now."
"No no no no please continue, but don't be confusing about it."
So I try way too hard
But I still miss the mark to fit in
It's weird, Tony hasn't held a conversation with someone for two hours since- forever. It's always mindless chit chat, work related bullshit, or him talking to someone and them half paying attention. It's never someone actually being engaged in conversation with him. Weird.
Tony finally gets some sleep during the weekend. And instead of waking up on Saturday full of regrets, he woke up a little bit happier and a little bit better. Weird.
As Tony goes to work next Monday, he gets McDonald's for breakfast in spirit of his cheery mood. He also decides to text Dr. Chan and ask if he wants to eat lunch with him today- because why not?
He goes about work as he usually does, pestering talking to more people than probably necessary and going above and beyond for things like the daily tweet. Near lunchtime, he finally gets a text back from Chan.
Dorky Plant Guy:
Can't, sorry.
Oh. Well that's fine, Tony muses. He's probably just busy, right? And it definitely isn't that Chan doesn't want to hang out with him. Or that he doesn't want to be seen with Tony at work. No, he's just busy- even if he didn't state that in the text.
Tony swallows the lump forming in his throat and heads to the cafeteria. He's fine. He can eat alone- again . He gets macaroni again. Screw his lactose intolerance, he places his legs up on the chair across from him, covering the void in front.
Help me
It's back. That feeling. And to think for just a little bit, that he was going to be okay. Tony hasn't felt that in years. Actual joy and comfort. But now he's back to the dreary and lonesome mindset. It's fine.
Oh, please, someone help me
He abandons his lunch, opting to work on one of his larger tasks instead. To drown out the thoughts.
The next day, Tony waits to see if Dr. Chan ever shows up for lunch. He doesn't. Neither does he on the next day or the day after that.
He shouldn't be so upset, he isn't even that close to Chan. But it can't be a coincidence anymore, Tony asks Chan to eat lunch with him and then he doesn't show up to lunch three days in a row? Tony had begun to think that maybe- just maybe, someone had begun to like tolerate him, but he must have been wrong. Like he has been before, like he will be in the future.
Everything's back to normal now. Each hour, minute, and second blending together into one big boring smoothie. It's unnerving that he was able to feel differently for a good 24 to 48 hours, because ultimately he's fallen right back into his same old patterns. Wake up, get ready, go to work. Pretend he's fine and careless and confident. Go home (occasionally be locked out), break down, try to sleep. Wake up, get ready, go to work. Pretend, pretend, pretend and break and then do it all over again. It's a vicious cycle, but whatever.
I don't care, anyone, anything
The issue is, that cycle is falling apart- like before. Tony, too busy being caught up in some sort of failed apathetic blur, can't even see it.
Once his workload was lighter by Thursday, Chan texted Tony once, no twice actually, trying to see if they could eat lunch together some other time, but he didn't respond. Which is weird, since Tony's job is to practically be on his phone. He didn't show up for lunch on Thursday or Friday either, his usual isolated table empty. At first, he brushes it off, maybe it was Tony's turn to be busy. Or maybe he was napping in his office, it was quite obvious that he wasn't sleeping well the week before, maybe he was struggling with that again. Chan was fine with that reasoning until he didn't show up in the cafeteria the next week either. If he was busy, Tony would have had plenty of time to finish his work during the weekend, even if he most likely procrastinated. And he should have been able to catch up on sleep too. Something was actually wrong, and it didn't take much for others to notice too.
Angela brought up her hesitant concerns during lunch on Tuesday. "Somethings up."
"Agreed. Just to be sure- we are talking about the same thing, correct?"
"Yeah, Tony. I tried texting him yesterday, but I still don't have a response."
"I did the same last week, nothing. He hasn't tried to distract me from my work like usual either." Chan responded.
"Same. I mean- I don't see him quite as often as you but still. His insults-"
"Are weak. It's like he's not even trying anymore."
"Exactly."
"I don't know what's going on, but he needs help."
"He's too stubborn for that and you know it."
Chan sighs and rests his head on his hands. "I know."
Tony's doing- bad. He doesn't know the date, and doesn't really care to know either. It doesn't matter anyway, he should just keep working. That's all he's good for anyway.
'Cause I'm so sick of being so lonely
He's on a bench with Twitter pulled up, he's doing- something. Some sort of work anyway. Someone sits down next to him, he doesn't look to see who, there's no reason to. They won't talk to him anyway.
"Tony?" Chan's voice asks softly.
Nevermind he is being spoken to. "Oh hey Dr. Chan, what brings you to these parts- bench region zone area?" That's definitely how he normally acts.
"Are you okay?"
Oh alright, just starting off real heavy then. Is he okay? No. "Yeah I'm fine!"
Chan sighs "Tony-"
"Okay imma stop you right there-"
"But I haven't-"
"Hypothetically, I could be not fine or okay or whatever. But that's only a hypothetical. I mean, if I wasn't fine then how come I'm showing up to work on time? How come I'm getting my work done a-and getting like three hours of sleep? Everything's fine and I'm fine! I'm just good ol' regular Fuck Tony Scarapiducci!" Tony stands up abruptly. "Your resident asshole slash media manager that nobody loves!" He flails his arms a little, voice raising a little louder than the usual standards for Inside Voice™️.
Chan stands up and hesitantly reaches his hand for Tony. He's not sure what he'd do next but he'll figure it out.
"Everything's fine!" Tony flails his arms again, as if it would help him make his point.
"Tony-" Chan tries one last time.
"You're right, we should get back to work!" Tony echoes a made up sentiment. "Bye, later!" He half shouts, swiftly leaving the room for his office.
Chan sighs for what's probably been the fiftieth time today. So much for being gentle .
Tony slumps into his office, finally away from all the prying eyes. Why can't he be left alone to do his work and/or space out and lose all sense of reality? Its kinda what he's been avoiding lately, so confronting it does the exact opposite. He plops into his chair, not even bothering with the lights. The lights turn on for him though, revealing Captain Ali by the switch, who, apparently got in his office undetected.
"What the fuck are you doing in here? Also how did you get in?" Tony asks, glancing at his keys.
"What's up with you man?"
"Okay but you didn't answer my-"
"Cut the shit Tony, I know something is wrong."
Tony swallows nervously and stands up. Not again. "Nothing is wrong! I don't know why people keep thinking something is!"
"Something clearly is." Angela stresses, stepping closer to Tony's desk.
Tony scoffs. "Okay, then what's wrong with me? What is so different that you're having to take up the time I could have spent working and not doing- this! " Queue the arm flail.
"Well- for one, your tweets aren't nearly as funny as they are normally!"
"Hey!"
"I'm not finished. Two weeks ago, you come to work looking half dead, then the next Monday you're back to being cheery and all annoying, but then you get all quiet. I barely see you around anymore. Usually you go up and talk to people. For my first month here, I genuinely thought your job was to go around and talk to people. But now you're at work, but it feels like you aren't here. Which has never happened. Chan said something about you being sleep deprived, but it's more than that. So would you stop being a mysterious attention seeking asshole and just spit it the fuck out already?!" Angela rants.
Tony scrunches his face angrily. "Just leave me alone! It's not like any of you care anyways!"
Angela softens. "Is that what you really think?"
"It doesn't matter. Nevermind!" He attempts to dismiss.
"Tony, how long have you felt like this?"
Tony sighs, maybe finally giving in. He's too tired. "I never had any reason to feel differently." He slumps into his chair again.
Angela sighs. "Look, I'm not good at this mushy stuff-"
"So just don't-"
"No, I'm going to anyways. Tony, you are so annoying. You've pissed me off countless times and I constantly claim to hate you. But even so, I still care about you." Angela sits down across from Tony's desk.
Tony is eerily silent.
"Even without Chan pushing me to talk to you, I was planning on doing it anyways. It's weird and quiet and kinda boring when there isn't the loud and lively presence being loud and- lively. You get me?"
Tony nods slightly, Angela isn't sure if he's just doing that to avoid more talking or if he's actually understanding. Maybe both.
"Good." Angela whips around quickly and opens the office door. "You can come in now Chan."
Tony's eyes widen as Chan walks in and Angela closes the door. "What is this, an intervention?"
"Of sorts, I suppose." Chan pulls up another chair and sits with Angela across from Tony.
"Great, you've got me cornered, what do you want?"
"I mean not really, the door's right there." Chan pointed out.
"Metaphorically then! If I leave now you'll just corner me again. So just- let's please just get this over with. I have work to do."
"It can wait. I just want to ask some questions." Chan replied.
"Fine."
"Why haven't you been sleeping?"
"Hey I thought you liked my raccoon looks!"
"Tony-" Angela threatened.
"Well at first my apartment wouldn't let me in, so I didn't sleep the greatest that night obviously. Then the next night I just couldn't sleep because my lack of sleep made my brain all scrambled." Tony chuckled dryly.
"Scrambled?" Chan inquired.
"I don't know how else to describe it. Anyways, then it was Friday, we talked at the bar some, I finally slept during the weekend, then I started feeling bad Monday. Not sick bad, just distant, upset I guess. It's easier to bury yourself in work then process your own emotions, so that's what I did. And the rest is history I guess." Tony said quietly.
"What made you feel bad on Monday if you were feeling better before?" Angela asked, confused.
"It just happened." Tony shrugged.
"Bull." Angela replied stubbornly.
"Okay fine, there may have been a little thing- but it doesn't matter."
"Well if it ruined the rest of your week then it must have been something important."
"Sometimes I just get upset over stupid things, it's fine."
"But you haven't been fine!" Chan retorted, finally getting fed up.
Tony looked down. "You wouldn't get it."
"Try me."
"The Friday we talked at the bar, it was the happiest I had been in awhile."
Angela glanced at Chan with a slight quirk in her brow.
"I don't really get to talk to people often. Sure, I talk to people quite a bit here at the base, but other than here, that's it. There's nothing for me once the work day is over. And during the weekend it's worse. That's why I- uh am a regular back at that bar. It provides some sort of distraction at least. It's funny, I thought you were just some other person looking to use me at first, but no. But being at that bar for some reason other than just to get wasted or laid was- nice I guess. I was finally able to sleep and not just regret the next day. I was actually excited to go to work, and not just for a distraction."
Chan, realizing what was next, said "But then I canceled lunch on you.".
"I mean I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but I did anyway. I do that a lot. I also don't think of myself highly so I blamed it on myself and not on the fact that you were probably just busy, which seems a little more plausible now."
Chan grimaced, looking at his phone. "I could have been nicer."
"Maybe, but that's also just kinda you." Tony paused. "In a good way!" Tony paused before continuing " I just don't like lunchtime, it reminds me of how much the people here really do hate me. I have one whole side of the cafeteria to myself for fucks sake!"
"How come you don't try and sit with other people?" Angela chimes in.
"It's not that simple. Usually I can bother people in a work related context and it's not nearly as difficult. But lunchtime is just- lunchtime. You don't go there to talk business with people. You just talk. It's too much pressure."
"General Naird and Dr. Ma-" Angela began, only to be interrupted by her phone buzzing. She looked at it then exclaimed "Shit! Sorry I gotta go." She got up and headed for the door. "Sit with me next lunchtime, seriously you don't have a choice in this."
Tony put his head down on his desk and sighed before whispering "I'm sorry." .
Chan scooted a little closer to the desk and tentatively scruffled Tony's hair. "Why?"
Tony moved his head on its side and looked up at Chan. "For being like- this." He unceremoniously gestured his hands.
"You don't need to apologize for anything. I think I get it- or rather you now."
"Was all the trouble worth it though?"
"I think so." Chan replied.
"Think?" Tony smirked a little, sitting up and leaning forward on his arms.
"I know so." Chan sighed in mock exasperation, leaning back into the chair.
Tony smiled, like really actually smiled. His problems weren't fixed. They never just disappear like that. But for the first time in his life, he had people who he was supported and loved by, people who understood him, and people who he could call his friends.