Chapter Text
"Legolas, on your six!"
It was Tony's call over the comm that saved Clint's life from the robot coming up from behind him. The archer spun, taking it out with an exploding arrow as Tony hit the one coming up from his left with a well aimed repulsor blast. He had just enough time to see Clint's thumbs up before he was flying by, taking out more robots on the street as he went.
"Thanks, shellhead."
"I would say anytime, but I'd rather you pay more attention." He fired off another shot, knocking one off a building.
"I have the best eyes in the business."
"Invest in some in the back of your head."
Before Clint could retort, Steve cut in, all Captain America leader voice, "It looks like we've almost got them all."
Since Tony directed Hulk toward the source of the seemingly multiplying robots, he was right. He did a half circle, looping around buildings as his scanners swept over the robot carnage and the few stragglers that were slowly being picked off. "Think we can wrap this up in twenty minutes?" He asked. "I've got a gala tonight and Pepper would actually kill me if I miss it."
"Might take less than that," Natasha replied. "But Fury will want a debriefing."
"Fury can tell that to my girlfriend. He wouldn't have his other eye afterward."
The Director himself answered. "If you fill out extra paperwork, you can go."
"Wow, so kind." Tony rolled his eyes - and immediately regretted it when his headache flared, turning his vision blurry. "I should get you a best director ever mug."
He didn't get a response. That suited him fine. All of their voices were beginning to grate on him despite JARVIS having lowered the volume to thirty percent per his request.
Honestly, he wasn't sure how he was still flying. His head pounded, the coffee had faded from his veins, and sometimes his vision wanted to double. JARVIS had told him not to suit up when the alarm sounded, but he wasn't about to leave his teammates high and dry over a few sleepless nights-
The suit jerked right and Tony found that JARVIS had taken control, keeping him from flying straight into a building. He blinked, unsure how much time had passed, and found that Steve was speaking to him.
"-you alright? Is the suit malfunctioning?"
"Not a malfunction, Cap," he quickly assured, taking control with a lazy spin. "Testing a new suit upgrade. Oh hey, scans say there's only one robot left."
There was a distinct 'clink' sound. "Not anymore," Clint laughed.
"Alright, everyone regroup. Head to the quinjet-"
"Ah, actually," Tony interrupted, noting the position of the sun, "I really do need to get ready for that gala. Can I just get a recap later in the mission report?"
"Do you promise to actually read it?" Steve asked, doubt clear.
"Scout's honor."
"Then you can go."
He stopped midair, finding the leader where he was on the ground. He gave a quick, joking salute, then changed course back toward the tower, his exhaustion following him no matter how fast he flew.
On the screen, he noted JARVIS shutting off the communication on his end, still keeping the channel open where he could hear Steve rounding the others up as the Stark Relief Foundation would soon be moving in for clean up. "Sir, I really must advise that you don't go to the event this evening. Your lack of focus and slower reflexes-"
"It sounds like you're calling me old. Are you calling me old?"
"No, Sir," his AI replied, patient as ever, "I am concerned for your well-being."
Tony sighed, letting his eyes shut for a moment and trusting JARVIS to steer. "J, I've got to go. I'll try to sleep when I get back, I swear."
JARVIS said nothing, only safely guiding him to the landing pad where his suit could be disassembled. Both of them knew that even if Tony wasn't lying, there would likely be no sleep for him tonight.
_____
Tony arrived back at the tower shortly after ten o'clock. The elevator ride churned his empty insides as he tried not to sway on his feet, leaning against the elevator wall for support as he undid his tie and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up.
When JARVIS quietly let him know that he was on his floor, he was both grateful and dreading the walk to his room. Still, he pushed off the wall, the call of his bed an allure he wanted to follow. He was exhausted, bone-tired exhausted, and there was this little hope in his mind that he could sleep, that if he was exhausted enough, his brain wouldn't run in circles and the nightmares would leave him alone, if only for more than a couple of hours. That was all the sleep he'd gotten over the last four days. A couple of hours at night if he was lucky, a nap at his lab desk here and there, the occasional doze off on the lab couch when JARVIS forced him to stop working - all of it ended with him jerking awake, his heart racing, and no Pepper to help calm him down. She was on the other side of the world, her side of the bed left empty for days.
Finally, he made it to his bedroom. He made the effort to put his tie in the laundry hamper as he kicked off his shoes, followed by his other clothes before changing into sweatpants and a black T-shirt with Ironman emblazoned across the front in gold.
"J, lights, please." He mumbled as he fell onto the bed. He landed on his stomach first, then rolled onto his side as that proved uncomfortable for the arc reactor. He'd had a thought, after the whole Mandarin thing, that he could remove it, and maybe he would, one day. That day hadn't come.
He fell asleep before JARVIS managed to dim the lights all the way.
It didn't last long.
Despite all of his hopes, he woke up just over an hour later, the exploding space armada burned into his eyelids as he tried to catch his breath. He pushed himself to sit up, ignoring the spike of pain that went through his exhausted brain, and found himself holding back tears because, why?
Rarely in his life did he want to sleep, and yet when he did, it escaped him, flooded with nightmares and drenching him in fear. It wasn't fair.
Minutes passed of him forcing himself to breathe evenly with JARVIS's assistance, not willing to get out of bed because even though he couldn't sleep he understood that he at least needed to rest and-
"Sir," JARVIS spoke softly, "Dr. Banner is requesting your presence in the lab if you're awake and up for it. He's found an error in his experiment that he would like a second opinion on. What do I tell him?"
Tony gave it a long moment of thought. Science with Bruce was fun, a lot more fun than sitting in his dim bedroom wondering if he'd ever sleep well again, and Bruce rarely ever asked for help.
"Tell him I'll be down there in a few minutes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he breathed, throwing off the blankets and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "It's not like I'm sleeping more tonight."
JARVIS didn't say anything to that. Tony got up from bed, going to the bathroom first to smooth out his minor bedhead and check to make sure the foundation below his eyes was still in place. He didn't bother with shoes, too tired to think about stopping to put them on, and headed down to the labs.
When he reached Bruce's lab, the first thing he noticed was that his science bro wasn't alone. The rest of the Avengers were there, loitering around the lab in their pajamas. Clint spun in an office chair, Natasha cleaned her gun while leaned against a table, Thor poked at holograms with a look of utter awe as they responded, and Steve stood near Bruce, talking to him as the scientist kept flipping through his hologram.
"Look who it is!" Clint called, stopping his spinning and getting everyone's attention on Tony. "I figured you would have gone to bed by now, but maybe that was dumb of me."
"You're always dumb." It wasn't his best comeback but it got a laugh, so he counted it as a win. "What's going on, Brucie?"
As Bruce explained the problem, Tony found that his brain worked, even if it felt like it was wading through a swamp at some points. That was the bad thing about being a genius. His brain could keep going even when his body was trying to crash, prolonging the fallout he desperately needed. He moved a few things on Bruce's hologram, finding the base equation - and the error within it. Tony fixed it, getting Bruce to stop talking mid-sentence.
"I feel so stupid now," Bruce chuckled, running a hand over his face and hair.
He patted his arm reassuringly. "You're not. Sometimes you just need a better set of eyes," he joked, earning a light-hearted glare.
"Like mine!"
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Clint, you couldn't have figured that out."
"Doesn't matter, I have the best eyes."
"That's not-"
As the two began to bicker and Bruce went back to work, Tony found himself mentally drifting. He was sure someone was talking to him, or maybe about him, but he couldn't focus enough to figure out who. The words were all muddled. There was this calm settling in him, surrounded by light and people he cared about, where the nightmares couldn't get him. He could feel every bit of his exhaustion, every sleepless hour, every overworked breath-
Darkness moved in from the edges of his vision and he had a distinct feeling that was bad. It got worse when the room blurred, spinning like he was on an amusement park ride. He couldn't think. He didn't want to think.
He wanted to sleep.
His legs gave out from under him. His ears caught the muffled sound of Bruce calling his name as strong arms grabbed him, stopping his fall and lowering him to the floor. His head fell against solid warmth, the sound of a racing heartbeat that might have been his own filling his head as fingers pressed against his neck, onto his pulse point. Through blurred, fading vision, he caught his teammates worried faces, surrounding him from all sides with JARVIS speaking over their voices.
He let his eyes shut, allowing his mind to sink deeper and deeper into the darkness, chasing the sleep he desperately craved.