Work Text:
Tony was startled awake by his phone screeching 'Cotton Eye Joe.' He rolled over, knowing who it was already. Shield. He had assigned the most annoying song known to man to them, just to reflect his resent towards them. He reached towards the phone, knowing it could just be Cap calling.
The blond was out on a mission.
"I'll call you as soon as I get back, Tony."
"How long do you think it'll take, Stevie?"
"Don't call me that."
"Fine, Spangles. How long is it going to take?"
Steve pretended to be annoyed by the nickname, but his small smile showed otherwise. "A week. Maybe two. I have to go now, Tony," the taller man kissed his forehead. They said their goodbyes, and Steve left.
Today is the end of those two weeks.
"Anthony Stark?"
Not Steve. That voice isn't Steve. Alarms started going off in Tony's head, but his voice was calm.
"You're talking to him."
"I regret to inform you that Steve Rogers has been reported dead..."
The rest was a blur. Tony can't remember screaming, doesn't remember throwing his phone at the window with so much force it broke.
Five seconds. It took five seconds to hear the worst news of his life.
Steve Rogers has been reported dead...
Steve Rogers dead...
Dead...
Tony stumbled out his bedroom door. He couldn't breathe.
All of the Avengers looked up as he walked, leaning upon the wall.
"Tony?" Bruce looked up, worry clouding his face. The others had a similar look. Bruce got up, making an attempt to help Tony to the couch.
Tony glared at the man and avoided his touch. He was not Steve.
Dead...
The rest of the Avengers tried to help, but Tony wouldn't allow himself to be touched. He rushed to the elevator, his balance better than it had just been. He knew what he was going to do next.
"Jarvis? What was that?" Natasha demanded an answer. She was tending to Clints now broken nose that Tony had caused. Thor attempted to calm Bruce down, but Bruce just went to his lab to calm himself.
"Captain America has been reported killed in action by Shield."
The three Avengers left in the common room froze. They didn't know what to do, what to say.
They had just assumed that the Earths greatest soldier would never die. And they now know how wrong they were.
Tony gulped down another beer as he danced around. A pleasant buzz floated in his head. His thoughts were gone. The disco lights flew around on the walls, attempting to mesmerize everyone.
One of the many perks of being a billionaire is the endless amount of drinks he could purchase. The drugs.
He could pay people to give him things to forget and they would give it to him because he had money.
Tony Stark grinned stupidly as countless people offered him things. Anything to keep his mind off Steve was accepted, payed for, and used. It was like he was suddenly thrown back into his teenaged years. He was a scared kid that didn't know where he stood again, and he couldn't do anything about it.
The Avengers had been searching every single bar in Manhattan for Tony. When they couldn't find them, they continued searching through the rest of the boroughs. Queens, Brooklyn, Staten Island, Bronx. Nothing. They eventually found themselves crossing the Verenzonno Bridge, making their way to New Jersey to find him. Natasha ran every camera in a 100 mile radius while they drove.
"I found him. Oh my god, he went back home. Turn around right now. Thor, fly there as fast as you can."
"I shall fly faster than I have ever flown before for my dear friend Anthony."
Clint turned the car around and went against the bridge traffic. The city is going to have a fit about the Avengers violating the traffic laws, but they didn't care. They had to get back to Tony.
Tony lays himself on his bed. He stares at his ceiling, numb. His thoughts are a jumble of regret and drunken rambles.
Jarvis is saying something but Tony isn't listening, how could he? He can't even hear his own thoughts, only a ringing in his ears.
Drink. Go home. Drink. Go home.
This cycle is endless and Tony is swept up into it because of his grief.
He comes home after a particularly rough night. It has been exactly a month since Steve was announced dead. One month without Stevie being on the face of this earth with Tony.
The man drunkenly wanders into his room and to his bed, then clumsily takes off his clothes.
Tony lays down on the bed, only to feel it sink off to one side. Steve's side.
Who the fuck is on Steve's side of the bed?
Tony pulls away quickly, screaming threats. The lump on the bed shoots up, then gets in a defensive stance. The lights turn on, courtesy of Jarvis.
"Tony?" Steve's voice broke in the middle of saying the other mans name. He has what seems like a broken arm, several cuts on his head and arms, and his shirt is covered in what Tony hopes isn't his own blood.
"Stevie?"
Tony hesitated. This can't be Steve. He was dead. Steve is dead.
'Steve' took a step towards Tony.
"Are you okay, Bambi?"
In that moment Tony knew, this was really Steve. This was his Stevie, his boyfriend, his everything. Only he could know of that horrendous nickname. Tony stumbled forward and crashed into Steve.
They slid to the ground, never letting each other go. They fell asleep like that; on the floor, limbs entangled and smiles on their faces.
One month, two weeks, twenty hours, 34 minutes and 5 seconds. That is how long it took for Steve to come home.