Chapter Text
Sleep is overrated. That’s always been his motto. It was his dad’s motto and he knows it’s Clint’s motto. The building’s sensors trip when he goes prowling at night through the floors, maintenance sections, vents, and other usually untouched areas. So that’s two ghosts haunting Stark Tower. Or Avengers tower. Whatever.
Wait. Make that three. It’s also Natasha’s unspoken motto. He’d never say it out loud as she was more likely to poison his coffee if he even dared to admit she has a fault. Although he doesn’t see it as a fault. Being awake at 4 am is a badge of honor. The best of his inventions happen between the hours of 2:30 and 5:30 am.
Bruce and Steve are the two who sleep. Every night they disappear to their quarters and do not come out until a respectable time in the morning. They look somewhat refreshed and ready for the day while the rest of them slump around and eye the morning people with wary suspicion.
They do sleep. Just never at night. Or for long.
Thor is a king, an alien, and unendingly positive. But he’s also smart, well mannered, antiquated in a way that makes Tony laugh, and just a genuinely nice guy. So Tony has no problems there (except the occasional shot to his ego about Thor’s abilities but hey, Tony’s human).
Bruce has a dark side. It’s just big and green and useful in a fight. Of course Bruce also has PTSD from being chased by General Ross and struggled with self harm, but thankfully he’d been working through it and had been really on an upswing the past couple years. So Tony could deal with him too. Not to mention Bruce was one of the few he could have riveting conversations with about all things science, math, and certain aspects of engineering.
So that’s how he mentally divided the team. Thor is, of course, alert and booming whenever he is on earth. So it is Thor, Bruce, Steve as the day people and he, Natasha, and Clint who prefer the cover of night.
And he won’t admit it, but something about it makes him feel superior. They’re haunted. They have dark sides. Their worst nightmares and deepest fears lurk through the grogginess of exhaustion and them choosing to stay awake meant they were practically heroes. He doesn’t trust someone who doesn’t have a dark side that keeps them up at night.
Which is why Steve pisses him the hell off all the damn time.
Unlike Thor and Bruce, he is uptight, relentlessly forward pressing, standoffish, and too goody two shoes for everyone else.
Like sure… He still barely knows the guy. But whose fault was that? Steve doesn’t make an effort to reach out to people and Tony sure isn’t going to extend his hand to the guy who clearly thinks he’s a step down from his dad.
So they exist in the tower as teammates-- no. Less than that. Teammates implies some sort of trust or relationship. They were colleagues at best. Any trust used on missions was borrowed and returned exactly the moment the mission ended.
No one argues that they should be friends. So they aren’t. He has his friends. Rhodey, Pepper, Dum-E, Jarvis, Bruce. Clint and Natasha when they are feeling generous. Who needs more?
He and Steve are a venn diagram, the overlap being missions and that’s it. Why would he want to be friends with a reserved, uptight, tense, judgy guy in the first place?
He doesn’t. And he expects that feeling to last until kingdom come.
Until the last mission kicks their ass.
Not even half a year past the chitauri, and they’ve been doing pretty good avenging work. Clean up on aisle 5, mop up the bad guys in Chechnya, a little of this, a lot of that, bing, bang, boom, they were a semi functioning team of sorts.
Cap gives orders, they decide whether they should follow them— The End. And usually things went well.
Minor injuries and shallow gashes were par for the course.
But this mission…
Well it goes to shit.
His armor is in a heap at his feet, parts of it still smelling like burnt metal and blood, but he ignores it. He’d have to start from scratch anyways so he might as well scrap it. He has more suits ready to go. His ankle feels like jello and the knee above it is one wobble away from a total breakdown. Burns coat his palms and neck and he’s pretty sure he’s missing half an eyebrow.
Natasha is favoring a hip and holding a still wet bandage over her eye. Clint has an arm in a sling, shattered, they’d guess, and Steve is staring at the wall like a man out of time.
Okay. Shitty joke.
But his unmoving pupils make Tony’s skin prickle. The blast Steve had caught had been bad enough to shatter every glass window in a half mile radius and it had shattered something in Cap’s brain. Probably a concussion with enough percussion to rival a college level drumline.
Okay. Another shitty joke.
Bruce is unharmed, the fucker. But he looks ragged and worn out. So he knows the plan is for everyone to peel off to lick their own wounds as the quinjet makes its weary approach to the tower.
And he intends to do just that. Until he hears a, “Steve?”
Clint is staring back at the man, face pale from the pain of his arm. Bruce is between him and Clint and Natasha is already ahead of them all.
But they all stop. Turning to see Steve still sitting in the quinjet.
The man, in the ripped blue ridiculous suit, doesn’t move.
“Shit,” Clint sighs. “Maybe it’s worse than we thought?”
Bruce steps back and crouches in front of Steve. “Steve? We’re back at the tower, can you walk?”
A dry and husky voice asks. “How many?”
“How many what, Steve?”
“Graves?”
Bruce looks at them and they all stare back.
“What do you mean, Steve? There are no graves.” Steve’s head slings forward and he almost looks like he passes out but Bruce steadies him. “We need to get you to medical.”
Steve doesn’t protest or say anything. Which is already a sign he isn’t all there. Bruce hauls him up and Natasha appears at his other side offering support even though her face is pinched with pain.
“Don’t worry, Nat,” Bruce says. “I’ll get him to Medical. You three go get your own injuries checked out, okay?”
Tony doesn’t need to be told twice.
—————————-
When he gets back to the lounge at the top, ankle and knee in braces and burns treated, Bruce is there at the kitchen sink and Steve is sitting in a chair, staring out at the skyline.
“So,” he asks, “what’s the verdict?”
Bruce winces, “what do you call a concussion that makes a CT scan look like a Picasso?”
Tony grimaces, “sheez, that bad?”
Bruce nods, voice dropping. “Doc says he’d have soup for brains if not for the serum. His words not mine. Real charming guy.” The last sentence, dripping with sarcasm, makes Tony chuckle.
“I have to have a doctor who can meet me wit for whim. So I hired a jackass. Knows his stuff but bedside manner is zero. Just had him brought over from SI. Didn’t realize he’d be seeing you guys too. But makes sense.”
“Yeah well, the Hulk didn’t get injured from the shock wave but Steve sure as hell did. And the knock against the brick wall didn’t help. Glad you guys were blocks away. Anyways, Doctor advises him to stay off mission until he’s back to normal. He didn’t have a timeline for that though.”
“Guess we better hope the bad guys take a vacation.”
Bruce huffs and nods, “wouldn’t that be nice.”
After grabbing coffee and a prepackaged pastry that is awful but also good, he heads back to the lab, thinking nothing else of it.
—————————
Which is why the: “—sir, I think there’s something wrong—” From Jarvis two nights later makes him startle as if shocked. He drops the soldering iron and places a hand over his heart, breathing out heavily before glaring at the ceiling.
“What, J?”
“Captain Rogers is…”
There’s a long pause and Tony squints up at the ceiling, “Is what, J?”
“I believe there is something wrong.”
“Oookay. And you scared the living crap out of me to tell me that? Send Medical.”
“It’s not… medical.”
Tony huffs. “You just said there’s something wrong.”
“There is.” Somehow the AI sounds annoyed at him.
“Okay. So what’s wrong? And can Bruce or someone else deal with it?”
It’s the: “I believe he’s in danger…”
That makes Tony pause. “Do we have intruders? Wher--”
“No sir,” the AI cuts him off, which is unusual. “I believe he’s a danger… to himself.”
The thought makes Tony’s brain fritz. “What the hell does that mean, J?”
“I’m not sure,” the AI admits. “Just that my protocols dictate that this abnormal behavior in an abnormal environment is a concern.”
Tony begrudgingly gets up and puts his hands on his hips. “Can you be any more specific?”
“It’s difficult to explain with my set protocols since he is not actively in danger.”
“You just said he was!”
“Sir,” Jarvis chirps, a beep and a red flash making Tony’s eyes widen, never has his AI snapped at him before. “The situation is advancing--”
“Why can’t Bruce deal with his concussion melt down!”
“If you’ll remember, Dr. Banner is out of state collecting gamma samples.”
Oh shit. That’s right. Someone was trying to recreate Bruce’s experiment and create more hulks. That was a big no-no for Shield. So they’d asked Bruce to come help them see how close they were actually getting. Tony had been in a sleepy haze when the man had left in a rush this morning.
He grumbles. “Fine. Lead me to him.”
Jarvis guides him to a still-in-progress floor. The construction sheeting lines the open space and the wind from outside whistles loudly. It’s cold as hell in here too. Something unsettles his stomach. Why is Steve out here?
Tools are splayed about and he limps quietly, trying to find the super soldier gone MIA.
“J, where?”
“He’s at the edge sir.”
“Edge?”
“Of the building. Past the sheeting.”
Past the sheeting? He stares at the construction plastic and sees a section that’s clearly been peeled apart. What the hell? Tony walks softly, pushing through the opened section, the tape ripping it further as he slips between two sheets and gasps at the frigid January air that rips at him.
“Steve?” He calls, seeing a figure stand off at the edge.
The whole ass edge.
Edge.
THE EDGE.
Like—— A gust of wind could knock him down from the 75 stories they’re up. Danger seems more like an understatement now.
“Steve!”
No response.
“Steve! Get back from there!”
Nothing.
“Come on man,” he’s shouting now, bellowing. “Walk back towards me!”
But there’s no response.
He inches closer, slowing as the wind begins to grab him harder. With his busted knee and ankle, he crouches, trying to keep his balance and ensure he doesn’t get knocked sideways and go toppling.
“Steve!” He calls again, trying to raise his voice to be heard over the wind, “Steve! Come back from there!” The man, who can hear him now apparently, turns slowly and meets his gaze, head pointed down to where Tony is crouched. And Tony goes still. There’s tear tracks running down his face. “Steve?” He questions, “are you hurt?”
“Will they let me search for him?”
Tony furrows his brow, “What?”
“I can find my own way back if they won’t arrange for transportation.”
“Steve, what are you talking about?”
“I need to search. I have to. He deserves to be buried properly!”
An eerie sense of displacement settles in him.
It’s clear in his glazed eyes and wracked expression. Steve… isn’t… here right now.
“Search for who, Steve?”
Steve glares at him. “That’s not fucking funny.”
Even more than the ease in which Steve curses, the sharpness of his tone surprises him. He hasn’t heard that much negative emotion from the guy since he was left to thaw out on the counter like a piece of frozen chicken.
Okay. Shitty joke counter is at three now. He should have tried for a nap.
“Umm,” Tony says slowly, trying to figure out what to say. “You’re dangerously close to a ledge buddy. And I know you’re resilient but I don’t think falling from this height would have a happy ending.”
Steve’s expression morphs to anguish and he tips his head back and wraps his arms around his torso, looking like a man enraptured with grief. “It should have been me.”
“Come on back,” Tony tries again, eyes glued to Steve’s bare feet that are not even a half a foot from the edge of a very steep drop. “Take a step back.” The wind is yanking on him like crazy and he can see it pulling at Steve’s night shirt and sweatpants. How the man hasn’t been swayed off is a mystery.
“Steve!” He tries more urgently. “Come on man!”
“I’ll search for him,” he hears Steve say huskily. “I don’t care what they say. This is priority.”
“Man, come back from wherever you are!” Tony inches forward, trying to reach for the man’s leg. But then he pauses. What if touching him startles him? He cannot risk the man jolting in fear.
“J!” He yells, “send a suit outside to push us back!”
He can’t hear a confirmation but his watch buzzes, alerting him to a movement in his suit lab so he knows he’s been heard.
Curiosity, the damned scientist in him, makes him stay there instead of crawling backwards. Not long after, the glow of Iron Man’s eyes appear in front of them both. Holding up its hands in a posture of ‘I’m here to help’.
He taps at his watch, the screen popping up and he hooks into the Audio and Visual.
Steve’s eyes are blown wide but he shouts, “Hydra tech!” Before Tony can react, Steve is shoving his suit away and reeling backwards. He watches in disbelief as Steve spins, catches sight of him, reaches out, hauls him up onto his feet, and begins to pull him away from the edge.
“Steve—“ Tony tries, adrenaline pumping. “It’s alright!”
His suit has righted itself and lowers onto the floor behind them. Steve goes stiff, scans, picks up an errant wrench and— Tony gapes— chucks its at his suit.
The wrench cracks against the reactor, causing the suit to fritz backwards, and Tony yells out an indignant. “Hey! Those suits are expensive!”
“Run!” Steve bellows way too loudly before yanking him forward roughly.
Tony’s ankle and knee do not like this.
“We’re safe!” He tries to explain as Steve shoves him through a door. “It’s all fine!”
Steve looks around at the well lit hallway and the normal settings and shudders. His eyes squint closed and he raises a hand to block to fluorescents
“I think you need to go to medical,” Tony offers slowly. “That concussion is a doozy.”
“Doozy?” Steve asks blearily. The man looks around and steps backwards. “Where— What—“ he swallows thickly and then grimaces, holding his other hand to the side of his temple. “Are we close?”
“Close to… the edge?” Tony spits out, his annoyance growing now that Steve’s literally not close to death’s free fall anymore. “What the hell were you doing out there?”
“Where are we?“ the man asks, “is this a Hydra facility?”
Tony huffs out an annoyed puff. “No, it’s not fucking Hydra! This is Avengers Tower! What the hell is your issue! Oh wait, I know—“ he bites out sarcastically. “—your brain is scrambled. We need to get to medical. Jarvis! Call medical personnel.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tony begins to try to lead the clearly confused man towards the elevators but Steve is hesitant. Resiting. Searching with wide pupils eyes and not really seeing.
“Come on Cap—“ Tony sighs. “I’m trying to help you.”
Steve is rubbing at his eyes so roughly that Tony winces. “That can’t be good for you.”
Forlorn pairs of eyes look at him. “Anyone else?”
Tony tilts his head in confusion. “Anyone else what?”
“How many?”
Tony’s exhaustion is pushing him into agitation. “How many what, Steve?”
Steve’s eyes are solemn, even as the pupils differ in size. “Graves?”
Dumbfounded, Tony splutters out a, “what is it with you and graves? Huh?”
“Mr. Stark?” A nurse has appeared.
He nods and gestures to Steve. “His concussion is bad. Not sure why he was let out of the medical ward to begin with.”
The nurse bristles. “Dr. Banner cleared him to heal in his room since he was agitated down in the medical wards. He wasn’t on the verge of death or needing medical attention. He simply must rest to be able to heal.”
“Well I don’t think taking a trip to the construction floors of the tower counts as resting.” Tony bites back with a tight smile. “But if Dr. Banner orders it then let it be so.” He turns to Steve who is watching the nurse in scrubs warily. “Will you go back to your room?”
Pain is etched in the grimace on Steve’s face. “Never.”
Tony scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh brother. What the hell am I supposed to do with brain dead GI Joe?” He steps closer to Steve who steps back. “It’s your room. Not a prison cell. Your shield is there and everything.”
Steve’s exhausted brain latches onto the word. “Shield?”
Tony nods. “Yes. Your Shield. Will you let me show you?”
After a long moment where Steve looks like he might bolt or drop dead. He nods.
“Great,” Tony says sarcastically. “Follow me.”
For being a scrambled egg brain, Steve’s steps are so quiet that Tony has to keep turning around to check that he’s following.
At Steve’s door, Tony waves the nurse away and ushers Steve to his closet where he assumes the shield is. The leather case gets an “ah-ha!” from him and he unsheathes it. Placing the metal thing into Steve’s hands. “Here you go.”
Steve holds it with reverence, just staring. While the super soldier is distracted, Tony looks up.
“J?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Has Steve been out there before?”
“On that particular floor? No.”
Tony hears what’s not being said. “But he’s… wandered around the tower at night before?”
“Yes.”
Something that had been set in stone in Tony’s mind shifts. He’s always assumed Steve is a day person. Had never seen him lurking at night like he had the other two.
But now… a different truth stares him in the face.
“Where does he usually… wander?”
“Due to his privacy protocols--”
“His!” Tony bleats. “Wait a damn minute this is my tower! Why aren’t the sensors tripping for him? It trips for the others!”
“Due to Captain Rogers’ privacy settings—“
“Oh, you’re fucking joking!” Tony hisses into the wind. “You’ve made some sort of deal with this devil!? Are you serious? He’s not in charge!”
“Shield and Mr. Fury would disagree.” Tony ignores the AI’s clear distaste for the Leader of Shield to only be referred to as Mister.
“Oh—“ Tony chokes out a growl and slams his hands on his hips. “I’m being Punk’d! This is insane!” Then something strikes him. “But you could alert me now because he was in actual danger?”
“Not even Captain Rogers can switch off my emergency protocols.”
“But he’s tried?”
No answer.
”So only because he was in danger, you had to alert me.”
“My protocols believed he was.”
Tony turns back to where the super soldier is staring at the skyline from his window as if it’s confusing him. Probably is.
“So what now?” Tony huffs.
“The immediate danger has passed. But I believe Captain Rogers would benefit from some observance.”
Tony’s eye rolls are legendary and this one is no less. “Okay so I’m just supposed to babysit him!?”
“I can initiate ‘lock down’ protocol for this floor if you prefer.”
His own personal AI being miffed at him is not something he appreciates. “Oh fuck off. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
——————-