[avengers big bang] fic: never say never; part three

[lumediluna]

The only reason Steve even contemplated the idea of changing clothes was that Pepper told him they didn't have any concrete news of where Tony was, because they had yet to find him in the wreckage, so they had no idea where to go. There had been an explosion at the manufacturing plant where Stark Industries made their weapons, and Tony had been in there. Where, exactly, no one knew but the fire department and paramedics were already at the scene by now.

Somewhere in between the explanation, Steve had invited Pepper up to the loft where he and Tony lived, and upon entering he was surprised to find the television on. Had he left it on, before leaving for his jog? Maybe it had been Tony. Maybe he hadn't gone into work today, maybe he had overslept in his lab and that was why there had been no coffee in the morning. Maybe he was okay, and they were worried about nothing. Maybe he would just laugh at their concern after he saw them rush in. Maybe...

"Tony?" Steve called out, hurrying towards the living room, but an empty apartment greeted him instead. There was no laughing, no complaints about how early it was like he normally did on weekends whenever he actually let himself sleep in.

Pepper gently laid a hand on his shoulder, as if in support. "They'll find him. He'll be okay."

"Did you hear from him this morning? Was he really there?"

"Yes, he... He called me and Mr. Stane this morning. He had forgotten one of the blueprints, had me scan it and send it to him. He didn't want me to go, said he wanted to just focus on the project."

If Pepper continued talking, Steve didn't hear another word; on TV they were resuming their breaking news report, and an image of a building with STARK on the sign was shown engulfed in flames as the news channel's helicopter circled the scene.

"Reports are claiming that Tony Stark was in the building when the explosion occurred," the reporter said gravely, "but we have no reports of whether or not he has been pulled from the building yet."

"Mr. Rogers," Pepper said behind him, but Steve just muted the television as he tried to keep himself controlled.

"Please just call me Steve, Pepper," he said quietly, avoiding looking at her directly; his eyes just kept turning towards the image on the screen. "I'm. I need to take a shower. You can stay here, there's coffee--..." He stopped abruptly at that, remembering the events of the previous night and the lack of coffee, and he looked at her almost guiltily. "No. Sorry, there's no... There's no coffee."

"That's okay," she reassured him, "I can make some. Go ahead, take your shower, I'll try to get an update." She noticed the way he looked back at the screen, and for a moment had no idea what to say. "He'll be okay," Pepper finally managed, trying to sound as confident as possible. "He'll be okay."

Steve could barely nod before walking towards his room, his whole body feeling as if it was made of lead. From his window he suddenly noticed how news vans were already arriving at the building, and in a fit of frustration he grabbed the first thing he could reach and hurled it at the television in his room, because he could already hear the reporters. He could only see that damn image of the building on fire, and no matter how much he wanted to ignore it, the idea of Tony being gone was the only thing he could think of.

Please be okay, he thought as he sank on the bed, scrubbing his face with his hands as he tried to push his thoughts away as far away as possible. Please, just be okay.

***

Bucky had made it to the loft just as the report of the first two confirmed deaths was being made, and it was probably a good thing his friend was there because Steve had been on the verge of storming out of the loft to look for Tony himself. Pepper had been quick to call a few people, though, and chew some others out through the phone in a way that was truly admirable (and scary, but Steve could only be thankful that he wasn't on the receiving end), and afterwards she reassured him that moving forward any news would be given to her first. And no, Tony was not one of the two bodies; they were sure of it.

"This is ridiculous," Steve almost growled as he paced, not noticing the look that Bucky and Pepper shared. "There must be something I can do. We should be able to--"

"What, storm in there and look for him?" Bucky asked quietly in an attempt to calm him. "Steve, until we have some concrete news we can't do much. Would you please just sit? You're making me dizzy with all the pacing."

Steve didn't sit, but the pacing stopped almost immediately. Pepper seemed to take this as her cue to stand. "I need to make a few more calls. Can I borrow one of the bedrooms?"

"Tony's office is free," Steve responded almost tonelessly. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have offered the office to be used until Tony was back, but with Pepper it was different. Once she was gone, Steve couldn't bring himself to sit on the couch so he sat on the floor instead.

Bucky just stayed silent, watching him. Until, "You really care about him, don't you."

"He doesn't deserve this."

"No one does. But this has gone on to more than just...an arrangement between the two of you, hasn't it?"

Steve frowned. "What? No. Of course not." And it wasn't a lie. They hadn't kissed, or even touched, but it was different than anything Steve had experienced. "I just..."

"You don't have to pretend, Steve. If this turned into something else--"

"'This' isn't really something I want to talk about right now," Steve interrupted under his breath. Bucky had seemed to hear him, though, because he fell silent at once. "I'm sorry. I just. I don't know. I need to make sure he's okay before... I can't... It's complicated. That's all I can really say. It's complicated."

Standing from his spot on the couch, Bucky moved to sit next to him on the floor. "Well I could have told you that." When Steve didn't answer, he nudged him with his shoulder. "He'll be okay."

"And if he isn't?" His eyes went towards the television screen, where the building continued to burn. Pepper had tried to change the channel after a second explosion occurred earlier, and Bucky had tried again upon his arrival, but Steve refused to let them. He needed to somehow face it, as if doing so would give him some sort of ability to deal with what was happening, and that was the only way he knew how.

Now, though, as the magnitude of what was going on hit him across the face, he wasn't sure what what to think. Because, as he stared at the flames on television, all he could think of was that Tony might die, if he wasn't dead already.

Springing to his feet, he grabbed his leather jacket from where he had left it the previous night as Bucky leaped to his feet as well. "What are you doing?"

"I can't just wait here."

"And you're going to drive to Port Washington? By the time you get there we'll have news already."

Just as Steve opened his mouth to argue, the sound of Pepper's heels hurriedly rushing down the hall made them both turn.

"They're flying him into the city. They won't tell me his condition, but they're bringing him in."

Steve could feel his heart sink, because no news was not always good news and why wouldn't they give her an update, but he just nodded as he rushed towards the front door with Bucky and Pepper in tow.

***

Time seemed to go still when they got to the hospital. Five months ago, after his father had passed away, Steve had figured that that was it. No more hospitals. Bucky wasn't scheduled back overseas yet, he himself was enrolled in law school, and it was supposed to be simple. No hospitals. No sterileness that made his skin crawl. No more doctors, or heart monitors, or nurses that he had to find a way to convince into letting him stay longer than what visiting hours permitted.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He was sick of hospitals; he wasn't supposed to be back so soon after his father.

Upon arrival they were guided to a private waiting area, but the 'privacy' didn't give much comfort to any one of them. Especially with every passing hour that had no response on Tony's condition, only the empty reassurances that as soon as they had an update they would make sure to let them know. Time went from standing still to simply crawling by with every minute that passed, and to Steve this became a bigger issue when Obadiah Stane showed up.

At first Obadiah had pretended to not even see Steve, busying himself by talking to Pepper, but almost three hours into their wait he approached the corner where Steve stood with Bucky.

"Why don't you head on home, son? Pepper and I got it from here."

"Thanks," Steve answered evenly, despite how he could feel Bucky tense beside him. "But no, thanks. I'm not moving from here."

"Steve..."

Bucky stepped in before Obadiah could continue. "He has every right to be here. It's his husband in there. Who are you, anyway?"

Obadiah just smiled, a smile that was more cold than anything else. "Someone that has been that boy's family for far longer than you can imagine."

Steve Rogers had never been the explosive type. He had never been the type to start fights, but he was always the one that tried to finish them. Now, though, as he stood in front of Obadiah, he felt every fiber in his body wanting to start a fight that he knew well enough he shouldn't start. Not at the hospital, anyway, because he didn't want to give him a reason to get kicked out.

It was only for that reason that he forced himself to just smile back instead. "Well, he's my family now. And I'm not going anywhere."

Obadiah didn't have to say anything else, although if he had then Steve wouldn't have listened because a doctor walked into the waiting room. At once they all swarmed up to meet him, but it was Obadiah the one that spoke first. "How is he?"

Later on, Steve would think that the pause should have given away the fact that he had bad news. Later on, Steve would analyze every expression, and every hesitation.

But, at that moment, all he could focus on were the words. "He's in a very delicate condition. The explosion caused him to be thrown against a hard surface and he suffered a severe blow to the head that caused a concussion. There are some burns along his body as well, and his lungs were exposed to a fair amount of smoke."

Steve felt his own lungs contract at the doctor's words and, when nothing but silence followed, he tried to convince himself that had been it. "Is he... Will he be all right?"

"Mr. Stark is in surgery," the doctor continued, his voice lowering. "One of the explosives caused tiny pieces of shrapnel to lodge itself into his body. Thankfully we were able to have an expert on injuries related to military weapons flown in to treat him, but we cannot guarantee that we can stop it all in time."

They all fell silent, unsure what to say - if anything. Obadiah didn't let that last for long, though. "So, you mean..."

"I wish I could guarantee an outcome, but the time that he spent in that building was crucial. When he arrived we had a difficult time stabilizing him, but..." A beat. Then another. "Dr. Yinsen will do everything in his power to save him, I assure you of that. As soon as we have some news, we will give you an update."

As the doctor began to leave, Obadiah followed him out into the hallway, leaving Pepper, Bucky and Steve behind, unable to say anything. What was there to say? Maybe he should have followed the doctor as well, Steve thought to himself as he leaned against the wall, maybe he should have found out more.

But how could he, when his legs felt as if they couldn't hold him up anymore?

'We have to celebrate that you're almost free, right?' he suddenly remembered Tony saying, and he felt himself slide down onto the floor.

No, he wanted to say. Scream, as loud as he could so that Tony could hear him. No, he didn't want to celebrate.

He didn't want to be 'free.'

***

Despite Bucky's and Pepper's reassurance that they could get him anything he needed, Steve had insisted that he needed to take a walk and at least go to the cafeteria by himself. The surgery would be a long one, the nurses had already told them, and he needed a moment to think; the waiting area just seemed to get more tense as the hours passed on by. The only thing that helped Steve deal with it was the fact that Obadiah had left shortly after talking to the doctor, saying that he would check on the investigation and see what had caused the explosions at the plant, and while Steve was definitely interested to see what had happened, he was just glad that the man was gone.

In the cafeteria, Steve prepared himself a cup of coffee with every intention of drinking it, but the second the liquid touched his lips he just felt his stomach flip violently in disgust. Hospital coffee had never tasted good to him, but considering the time that his father spent in the hospital, and now with this wait, he just couldn't drink it anymore even if he knew that he would need it. Maybe later, when he had nothing else to do, he would try to drink it again. Maybe for now he would just walk around, stall in having to go back.

"Steve Rogers?"

Steve tensed the second his name was said, but he turned anyway only to find a man in dark clothes and an eye patch standing a couple of steps away from him. "Do you mind if I take a few minutes of your time?"

"Sorry, I'm expected somewhere else at the moment," he responded as politely as possible, dumping another sugar packet into the coffee he wasn't even planning on drinking. "Maybe next time."

"It's just for a few minutes."

"If you're a reporter, you're wasting your time."

"Do I really look like a reporter to you?"

Steve turned then, even if he already knew the answer to that question, and just sighed under his breath. "I really do need to get back."

The other man gave a slight nod. "Yes, I know. But I can already tell you now, Mr. Stark will be in surgery for at least a few more hours."

Steve stopped stirring his coffee at that, frowning. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Motioning to one of the chairs in the cafeteria, the man waited for Steve to sit first before he sat across from him. "My name is Nick Fury. I'm... You can say I'm an old family friend."

"Are you sure? Your name doesn't ring a bell."

Fury smirked, leaning back against his chair. "No, I suppose not. I doubt your father talked a lot about me. Or us, really."

Passing a hand along his face, Steve tried to count to twenty so he could hold on to his patience that already seemed to be too short. "Look, I'm... I really can't stay down here for too long, can we cut the crypticness?"

"I knew your father while he was in the military." A pause. "I knew your father and your...husband's, actually." Steve paused as well, going absolutely still, and Fury gave a slight nod. "Good. By your reaction I take it that you know about the friendship your father had with Howard Stark."

Steve still remembered the day his father had been too tired to truly realize what he was saying while they were watching the news, and he had made a comment about how Howard Stark seemed to be doing well after a newscaster reported how Stark Industries had secured a deal with the military as the primary arms source of their weapons. Steve had teased him, saying how it sounded as if he knew him personally, and this prompted his father to begin talking about a past that Steve never knew even existed in his father's life. Joseph Rogers had always tried to keep an open line of communication open with his son, but the rules changed whenever his role in the military was mentioned.

"He never shared much," Steve admitted, talking about it for the first time ever since that night so many years ago. He hadn't even told Bucky, not even after marrying Tony. "I knew Dad helped him in some projects, a very long time ago, but he never mentioned what or when. And he said, due to some misunderstandings with some people in Mr. Stark's life, they had parted ways." Steve looked down at his coffee, busying himself with it for a moment. "He never mentioned anything about it again. Not even in the end. Especially in the end. The military in general became this...taboo subject he didn't like to bring up after I joined."

Fury just nodded, not looking away from Steve for even a second. "Your father was part of a special government branch called SHIELD. The Stark family was heavily involved with the organization, starting with Howard's father." For a moment he seemed to not be sure if he should continue or not, but... "Your father actually knew Edward Stark as well."

"Edward Stark? Tony's...grandfather? How would that be possible?"

"Mr. Stark worked with a scientist in World War II to develop what is now known as our Super Soldier program. Your father... He was our first Super Soldier."

Steve could only sit, too speechless to say anything for what felt to be an eternity. Finally, "No, you're lying. That can't be."

"Your father didn't want you involved in the military because he wanted you to do what you wished to do, not feel like you had to follow in his footsteps. I think he was also worried that, if someone who knew his real identity found out about you, it would endanger you in some way. He was a big help in our efforts in the war, and after as well."

"But if that's the case, then he... No. No, that can't be."

"The Super Soldier serum made aging different for him than for others, Steve. I can assure you, it is possible - but sharing that with the public would be too complicated to deal with. Your father was an amazing soldier, and a great person."

Forgetting how disgusting the coffee was, Steve took a drink anyway because his throat suddenly felt too dry. This was too much to deal with. Everything was just too much to deal with. "How did you... I mean, when did you meet?"

"After Mr. Stark died, Howard was quick to take his father's role with SHIELD and your father continued helping us in certain missions that not everyone knows about. He and Howard became very good friends, until...that certain misunderstanding."

"What was it?" When Fury just stayed silent, Steve raised an eyebrow. "With all due respect, you can't just begin this and not finish it."

Fury smirked. "Right. That is actually what I came to talk to you about." The smirk faded, suddenly replaced with an almost too serious expression. "Obadiah Stane didn't have any details of SHIELD, as he was not involved with our organization, but he found out about the Super Soldier serum. He pushed to have Howard try to sell the idea to the military in a larger spectrum, to either share it or sell it, but Joseph was against it. We all were. I think Joseph tried to make Howard see that Stane was not necessarily the good influence that he believed he was, but... They parted ways. I never knew specifics, but they never worked together again. They never spoke, either."

"Did my father continue working with... What was it? SHIELD?"

"SHIELD, and yes, he did. But not when Howard was involved."

Steve nodded, and a dry smile crossed his lips. "So I guess that's one reason why Mr. Stane seems to hate me."

"One of them, I'm sure." Fury leaned his elbows on the table, silent as he let the information sink in. "I need to know, Steve. Have you noticed anything different between Obadiah and Tony?"

"Different, how? I'm not sure what 'normal' is between them." Now it was Fury's turn to just raise an eyebrow in response, and Steve sighed under his breath. "Tony and I didn't know each other. Before we got married we didn't..."

"Oh, I know that." By the look on his face, Steve ventured a guess that they knew more than that, but he didn't elaborate. Instead, "Why did you two stay married?"

Steve looked around, as if to make sure no one in the cafeteria could hear them, and that was when he noticed how empty the room was. Had it been this empty when he had walked in? Suddenly he noticed a man and a red-headed woman standing at the door, and he assumed the obvious: they had already planned this meeting and cleared the room out. "Tony had been placed on probation by the board. A quickly annulled marriage would have sealed his fate, and the company would have gone to Obadiah." The thought made his blood begin to boil. "I was there, when he showed up to reprimand Tony for what he had done. But there was something in his eyes, he just seemed so...willing to take the company away, that I didn't... I couldn't let it happened." Steve focused his eyes on the almost untouched coffee, and his memory went back to that morning a little over a month ago. Tony had looked so lost and worried about what would happen, and Obadiah had almost seemed ready to start gloating despite the external anger that he had displayed.

And that was when it hit him like a bucket of cold water, the realization that maybe the explosion hadn't been an accident. If Tony was out of the picture, then that would still leave Obadiah in charge.

Feeling his stomach flip in both anger and disgust, he turned back to Fury who, by the look on his face, seemed to have reached the same conclusion and had been waiting for Steve to do the same. "If he did this--"

"If he did this, we will find out, and you can trust me when I say we will make sure to stop him."

"But what about the investigation that he's doing? That's why he's not here, he said..."

"Yes, I know what he said, but we are already taking care of it. We have eyes and ears everywhere, Steve. You'll come to find that out soon enough." Standing, he fixed his coat and gave what Steve could only assume was something that would count as a smile for someone like Nick Fury. "It was great to finally meet you, your father spoke a lot about you."

Steve smiled slightly. "I wish I could say the same. Will you please keep me updated on the investigation?"

The slightest of nods was his only response and, before walking out the door, Fury turned back to Steve. "Oh, and... Dr. Yinsen is one of the best surgeons. We have been very lucky to have him."

Before Steve could ask for clarification, Fury walked out and was followed by the two people at the door, but he once again just assumed the obvious. Dr. Yinsen was helping Tony thanks to SHIELD, and for the first time in the day he allowed himself at least one ounce of optimism about the outcome of the surgery.

***

Two hours. Four hours. Six. Each one was as agonizing as the next, and by the time they were nearing the seventh they all seemed ready to go out of their minds. Pepper had tried to keep busy with work, but hadn't been very successful. Bucky kept trying to busy himself by distracting Steve, but Steve made it impossible for him to since he kept either walking away or just staring off at nothing. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it, but with the accident and then his conversation with Nick Fury... It was impossible to focus on even a simple conversation.

The door finally opening seemed to revive them all, though, and once again they leapt to their feet as the doctor approached them.

"I'm Dr. Yinsen, I was the doctor in charge of Mr. Stark's surgery. I was able to extract a good amount of shrapnel from his body, but there is still a fair amount that we either couldn't risk trying to get, or we simply could not even attempt it."

"What do you mean?" Steve couldn't hide the slight tone of panic that clinged to his tone. "Did he..."

"He made it through the surgery, but he is still in critical condition. We are using an external pacemaker to try and hold the shrapnel in place, but I cannot guarantee for how long that will work. It could be a few months, it could be for the rest of his life. For now, though, we are very lucky that he was able to withstand the surgery itself; it was touch-and-go for most of it. Before I allow you to see him, he will spend some time in recovery before we move him to a private intensive care area. I'll have the nurse come get you at that point, Mr. Rogers."

Steve nodded, and when he walked away he let out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding. Had he been holding it for the past seven hours?

Deep down, he already knew it was for longer than that; it still felt like he could barely breathe.

"He's still with us," he could only breathe out in relief, especially as Pepper hugged him, as if reassuring both her and himself that Tony wasn't gone. He was still with them.

***

"He will be heavily sedated," the doctor explained as he walked Steve down the hallway towards the private ICU area where Tony was. "He won't be able to wake up when you talk to him. You should know, at the moment he is hooked to various machines for monitoring, as well as a ventilator for now to make it easier for him to breathe. Depending on how he progresses we will be lowering the medication that he is on, but his body has gone through so much stress with the surgery and the explosion alone that it is best for him to rest as much as possible." Noticing the way to Steve hesitated before opening the door, the doctor's voice took a kinder tone. "If you aren't ready to see him, Mr. Rogers..."

"How long can I stay here?" Steve answered instead, his eyes focused on the small window by the door, even if he couldn't see Tony or even his bed because a curtain was blocking him off.

"Not as much as you might like, I'm afraid. The next few days are critical, but if he responds well to the pacemaker, his chances to recuperate are very good."

Steve gave a faint nod, both to say he understood and as a thank you because he just couldn't find the right words to say yet, and quietly walked into the room. The second he did, the strong smell of medicine was overpowering but he didn't let it stop him as he walked closer to the bed.

It was probably a good thing the doctor had mentioned that Tony would be hooked on various machines, because even with a warning it hadn't prepared him for the actual sight. He seemed to be hooked to every wire and tube imaginable, and he looked so still that for a moment it felt as if his own heart had stopped.

"Hey," Steve said quietly, bringing a chair closer to his bed so he could sit by him, and once he was seated he hesitated on what to do next. Or even say. There were so many things he wanted to tell him, but he wanted Tony to hear him.

He wanted Tony awake, and smiling. The person on the bed that had bruises and lacerations throughout his face and arms didn't seem like the Tony he knew. The ventilator didn't help, nor the gauze that was wrapped from one temple to the next. He could see the burns on his forearms, and on one arm it seemed to trail down to his hand, and suddenly he imagined Tony in the burning building as he tried to shield himself from the fire and debris.

"You need to get better," Steve finally said, first in a whisper but then again in a louder voice as he rested his hand on top of the one that wasn't injured, careful not to apply any pressure on the IV lines. Tony was too still, he noticed for what felt like the hundredth time already; his hands had always been in motion, in one way or another, and now...

"I don't think you realize how used I am to you now, Tony. You can't just leave us. Pepper is great company, but you... Well, you make great coffee." It was a poor attempt at humor, but he couldn't help but hope that Tony would somehow react. He wished he would smile, or open his eyes, or at least stir.

But, there was nothing. Just more stillness, and the sound of the machines beeping around them.

"I need you," Steve blurted out, and it wasn't until then that he consciously realized just how much that statement was true. Reaching over, he gently passed his fingers along the loose dark curls that Steve already knew Tony would hate if he were awake. It felt like such an intimate gesture, one that they hadn't truly shared in their time together, but he didn't stop. If anything, Steve just continued gently passing his hand along his hair; both to reassure Tony that he wasn't alone, and to remind himself that Tony was still alive. That he still had a fighting chance; that he was not gone yet.

***

The morning after, Steve didn't leave the hospital, even after he was reassured that Tony wouldn't wake yet because he was still too sedated. At one point throughout the night Tony had developed a fever, which caused every alarm in the room to panic, and in turn it had panicked Steve as well.

Bucky tried to get him to leave, and Pepper as well, but neither could convince him to do so.

"When Tony wakes up you're going to scare him by how you look," Bucky had told him after dropping off clean clothes for him.

But, Steve didn't answer. He just paced in the waiting room until he was allowed in the room again.

***

Four days and various scares later, the doctor finally decided to take Tony off the ventilator. The pacemaker was working with holding the shrapnel in place, but he still couldn't guarantee for how long that would last for. For now, all they could do was continue to wait.

Removing the ventilator seemed like a step in the right direction, though, so Steve focused on that in the meantime. He just couldn't contemplate the possibility of the pacemaker not working.

The alarms began beeping again when Tony didn't seem to begin breathing on his own, causing Steve's own breath to get caught in his lungs, but before the doctor could intervene his chest began to slowly move on its own again.

"Will he be waking soon?" Steve asked as the doctor carefully secured the nasal cannula behind Tony's ears after adjusting it on his nose.

"I'm lowering the medication, so he should be. When he does, we need to take every precaution that he'll remain calm. He will most likely be in a lot of pain, but we will do all we can to make him comfortable." Dr. Yinsen looked over at Steve, watching him as the other man just focused on Tony as if willing him to open his eyes. "If you want to take some time and go home to rest, Mr. Rogers, you still have a chance. He won't wake up right away."

"But what if he does?" Steve turned to him, his hand unconsciously hovering over Tony's and gently passing his fingertips along the pieces of skin that he knew he was allowed to touch. "If another fever hits him..."

"Mr. Stark will need you more when he's awake than what he needs you now," Yinsen gently reminded him. "He will need to adjust to being dependent on the pacemaker. Those burns will limit his mobility for some time and, like I mentioned, he will be in a lot of pain - not only from the burns but also from the surgery."

Steve didn't answer, his attention going back to Tony as his fingers kept tracing along his skin. After a moment, "If something happens..."

"We will make sure nothing will. I can assure you of that. He'll be here when you return."

***

Tony was indeed there when Steve returned to the hospital a few hours later, and was just as asleep and still as when he had left, but Obadiah was also in the room with him. Pausing at the door, Steve hesitated for just a second before walking in, but the thought didn't last for long.

"Has there been any change?"

Obadiah didn't turn to Steve, he just continued standing next to Tony's bed. "I thought you had become an expert of his condition by now." He looked over then, giving him a sort of smile, and turned back to Tony. "No change. The doctor isn't sure the pacemaker will work for too long."

"But it works now. We can figure something out when we get there." Setting the duffel bag he had brought in with him on one of the chairs, Steve approached Tony's bed. "For now it's just important that he wakes up." When Obadiah didn't answer, Steve turned to him then and was surprised to see him staring at him. "...what?"

"Nothing, I'm just...surprised, I guess."

"Surprised?"

"I just cannot believe you two are still married, I guess, let alone that you're so concerned about him and his health."

Steve frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You barely know him, for one."

"You don't know that."

"You're right, I don't. But I do know your type. You marry a rich man and hope, what, you'll get a cut of it all at some point? Physically you're just not the type, though; generally they're better looking. Is that why you're so attentive to him? Waiting for this to be over so at least you don't have to deal with a messy divorce?"

Whatever control Steve had been holding onto the last few days evaporated with his words, and if he didn't leap to punch him right away it was only because Tony was laying between them. He still didn't let that stop him, though; he stalked over to him and grabbed him by the collar. Dragging him away from the bed, he pushed him against a wall, making Obadiah's body thump loudly against the drywall.

"What are you going to do, my boy?" Obadiah taunted in a sneer after the surprise on his face seemed to disappear. "Are you going to hit me?"

"I'm not your boy any more that Tony is your son," Steve sneered right back. "You should try to remember that."

Obadiah smirked. "That's right. You are actually more like your father than I think you realize."

"No, sir. I think you're the one that doesn't realize it." Two nurses rushed in, to check what was the commotion, and as they began trying to pry them apart, the only thing that snapped Steve back to normal was the sound of one of the monitors beeping alarmingly. "Tony?"

"Sir, I need you both to step outside."

But Steve didn't listen. Disentangling himself from the nurse's grasp, he quickly moved to Tony's bedside, where the blank expression of the past few days was gone and was replaced with lines of pain that seemed to be more accentuated against his pale face.

Carefully taking his uninjured hand in his, Steve tried to keep his hopes from rising too much in case this was a false alarm. After all, his eyes were still closed, and what if the hold the medicine still had on him was too strong?

Before the nurse could try to pull Steve out again, though, Tony opened his mouth as if to try to talk, but an almost breathless groan of agony escaped his lips instead.

Not knowing what else to do, Steve gently ran his fingers through Tony's hair how he had been lately. "Tony? Don't force yourself too much. You hear me? It's okay. I promise, you'll be okay."

The monitor kept beeping erratically, and Tony seemed to try to grasp onto Steve's hand as best as he could even if he barely had any strength. It seemed to be his best way to deal with the waves of pain that were wracking his body, and as he tried to open his eyes he could only moan again.

"I know," Steve just said quietly, as if to try and soothe him. "Focus on me, okay? There was an accident, and you got hurt, but they're going to give you something for the pain." Tony's grasp didn't loosen, until the painkillers the nurse injected into his IV began taking effect. The strength of the pain had caused him to start shaking, and he looked nearly as white as the sheets he was covered with, but Steve pushed that to the back of his mind as Tony finally managed to open his eyes. Steve didn't have to try and force himself to look optimistic, because the happiness of seeing Tony's eyes open translated into a wide smile. "Welcome back."

Tony tried to smile, it was obvious in the way his lips almost began to curl up, but the effort was quickly forgotten as a grimace replaced it instead. "Hurts," he managed under his breath, as if anything else was just unbearable.

"I know. They're going to try and help you control it, I promise."

"Mr. Rogers," the nurse that had been trying to pull him out earlier chimed in now that Tony's vitals began stabilizing. "You need to step out. Mr. Stark needs to be evaluated, and--"

"No," Tony said immediately, first as quietly as before, but then raising his voice as much as he could. It wasn't much, and his voice sounded too raspy to truly sound like his own, but it didn't stop him even if it obviously hurt him to do so. "Steve, no."

Steve kept his hold on Tony's hand, moving his hand from his hair to pass his finger on the bits of skin that weren't covered by IV lines on his hand. "I'm not going anywhere," he reassured him, and turned to look at the nurse as if to say, sorry but I'm not moving. Not now, not later. Turning back to Tony, he smiled as he took his usual spot on the chair next to his bed. "I brought you some music. Later you can listen to it. Maybe it'll help."

"Yours?"

Steve chuckled, already knowing what Tony meant. He was in too much pain to smirk or give him a teasing look, but Steve knew. He knew Tony well enough for it. "We want to keep you calm, not altered; AC/DC won't help with that."

Tony managed a faint smile then, his eyes getting too heavy for him to keep open with the morphine running through his system. "...don't go," he mumbled as he began to fall asleep again. "Please."

"I won't," Steve promised, because even if Tony wouldn't have asked, he already knew he wouldn't have moved anyway.

***

It's hot. It's far too hot for it to be possibly real, but all Tony realizes is that he can't breathe, and he can't see ahead of him because everything is engulfed in an angry red that is simply blinding. Something sounds as if it's roaring in his ears, too loud for him to hear anything else, and even if he knows he's trying to yell out, he can't hear his own voice.

Is this what Hell is like? he can't help but wonder as he calls out for help. He doesn't remember what happened - how did he get here? - and he has no idea how to get out.

There's a sound that is like thunder above him, but all he sees are the flames dancing all around.

The floor under him feels unstable, and he tries to run to what seems to be a door across from him. The flames try to reach him, and he tries to use his arms to protect himself, but the pain that spreads through his body tells him immediately that it's a bad idea. But, then again, what would be the alternative? So, he uses his arms like a shield, even if it hurts and he can't breathe.

His vision is so limited that just as he nears the door, he trips over something on the ground, and it's not until he falls that he sees it. A grenade that, years ago, had been one of his best designs. Or so the board had said, according to Obie. A crate must have opened during the explosion, and...

His mind is barely putting things together when he recognizes the faint whistle that it's emitting. Because, despite the roaring of the fire around him, that whistle is all he can think about because he himself had designed it, and he's too smart for his own good. That's all he can think about as he stumbles to his feet and tries to back away. He knows the blast radius, he knows his chances, he knows...

His thoughts go blank just as the explosion goes off, and he's sent flying back.

Tony didn't need the alarms blaring around him to tell him that the nightmare had unsettled him; his heart felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest, and he felt himself gasping for breath. Just that morning he had insisted to the doctor that he no longer needed the nasal cannula, but as he struggled to regain his ability to breathe he almost wished that he could have it back.

For a moment the whole world went blank again, making him wonder if he was going to be sent back to the flames and the explosions that he could still hear ringing in his ears. When the world began readjusting itself once more around him, though, he suddenly became very much aware that he was still in the hospital, laying on his side and shaking so hard that the act alone was making his whole body ache.

"Steve?" he asked quietly, as if in hopes that his voice wouldn't shake as much as he was. It had been a week since he had woken up, and two days without high dosages of morphine or vicodin in an attempt to be more alert, but suddenly all he wanted was something to dull out the pain. Please, he wanted to almost beg, just make it go away.

"I'm here." Steve's voice broke through his thoughts, and as he opened his eyes and tried to focus on Steve and only him, he came to realize that he was sitting on the bed, passing a hand along his back.

"You haven't left," Tony pointed out quietly, looking up at him without turning completely to do so. The thought alone made him hurt.

Steve's lips tugged into a small smile. "You keep saying that. I told you I wouldn't." Tony forced a smile then, and closed his eyes as he buried his face into the pillow for a moment. "Tell me what I can do."

"I'm fine," Tony mumbled into the bed.

"Tony."

Tony felt the way that he just couldn't stop shaking, and it wasn't entirely just because of the pain that he was in although that was a big reason why. He tried to clench his hands into fists as much as he could, but it just caused his arms to feel as if they were on fire again, and the thought made him choke out what sounded like a manic laugh into the pillow.

"Tony..."

"It hurts," he only managed in between laughs, but the laughter didn't last for long and he buried his face deeper into the pillow as much as he could. The doctor had filled him in five days after waking up, about how he would technically die if he wasn't hooked to the external pacemaker next to the bed. He had tried to stress how lucky he was to be alive, but there were times when Tony woke up and he just wondered why in the hell they had even pulled him out in the first place. Did it matter? Steve, Pepper and Obie had been careful on not letting him turn on the television in his room, so he wouldn't venture into a news channel by accident, but the previous night he had woken up while Steve was asleep on the couch and had caught a part of the report that mentioned how the last of the memorial services for the victims of the explosions had happened that day. Families were seen crying, people had been mourning, and the news ticker had announced a total of twenty-eight deaths. Which, compared to the number of employees, it was a relatively low number, but how could he just accept it?

The worst part was that he couldn't remember what had happened before the explosion. That had been one of the reasons why Tony had instructed the doctors and nurses to not give him any more painkillers, hoping that he would remember, but nothing. The doctor said it was normal, especially taking into consideration the concussion he had suffered, but what if it was his fault? He had built hundreds of weapons before; he liked to both design them and build them, but had he gotten careless with one?

"Fuck," Tony could only say, his shoulders shaking harder as he tried to disappear through his bed, and it wasn't until he felt the weight of a body next to him that he realized how much he had been writhing as he buried his face as hard as he could through his pillow. The feel of arms around him caused him to stop, though, at least for a moment, and when he realized that it was Steve just holding him close, Tony became a magnet that just began to cling onto Steve for dear life.

As if to say, please make sense of this because I can't. Please, just make it stop hurting. Please, just make everything go away. The burns on his arms made it hard for Tony to truly be able to move them much, but he clung to the front of Steve's shirt as hard as he could as he buried his face in the crook of his neck.

"It's my fault, isn't it," he said breathlessly. "It hurts, it hurts so fucking much, but I deserve it. All those people... It's my fault."

Steve's hold on him tightened, although he was still trying to be as careful as possible to not hurt him or affect the pacemaker. "No. No, Tony, it's not your fault. None of this is your fault, and you don't deserve any of it. Please, believe me. Please."

Tony didn't answer, but his grasp on Steve never loosened, especially as a sound began coming from Steve's throat, as if he was humming quietly to help calm him down. At first Tony wasn't sure what to make of it, but as he continued he just felt himself begin to slip back to sleep as he continued burying his face in Steve's neck, feeling safer than he had felt in...

Well. It was far too long to count anymore.

***

As Steve woke up, the sight of a pair of eyes staring at him greeted him and for a second he almost thought that he was dreaming. Despite all the efforts that he and Tony had done to convince the world of their marriage, sleeping together hadn't been something they had done, but now there he was. Right in front of him, staring at him with a faint trace of a smile on his face, his hair disheveled and wild from being in bed.

But, before the illusion of what he thought was a dream continued, he noticed the bruises and lacerations that were on Tony's face. He saw the angry red skin on the side of his neck, the dark bruise on his temple; it was until then that he heard the heart monitor beating steadily in the room, and for a moment he couldn't breathe.

They had almost lost him, he could only think. Tony had almost died. Technically he could still die, and the thought made his blood run cold.

"I guess we fell asleep," Tony suddenly said, seemingly oblivious to Steve's thoughts. "I told you that couch wasn't comfortable."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to refocus. "Yeah, maybe, but technically I should be letting you rest alone instead of taking up all the room." The memory of why he had ended up laying next to Tony came back, how he had been writhing in pain that was deeper than anything physical he could have been feeling, and Steve turned to Tony again. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't think my nurse likes you very much," Tony announced instead, as if he hadn't heard a single word Steve had just said. "She came in here to change the dressings on my arms and tried to wake you."

"You should have let her."

"For what? You needed sleep, too. I told her not to."

Tony was barely moving again, something Steve had come to realize the past few days that it generally meant he was in a lot of pain, and at once his hand unconsciously moved so he could gently pass his fingers along the loose dark curls that by now felt so familiar. In the time Tony had been unconscious, passing his fingers along his hair had been Steve's way to try and assure him that he was there, that he wasn't alone and it would be okay, and now it was just something he was used to.

Tony, though, couldn't help but blink at first, too surprised by the touch, but he seemed to slowly begin to relax. "I'm sorry," Tony suddenly said quietly, his eyes fixed on Steve's. "I don't think you signed up for this, did you."

"No, I guess I didn't." Steve didn't stop moving his fingers along his hair, suddenly feeling his stomach flip. Ever since the explosion (maybe before that, he wasn't sure) he couldn't figure out his own feelings, and now that Tony was awake he had no idea what to do. All he knew was that he didn't mind being on his bed, his fingers running through his hair. He didn't mind the closeness.

"Tony," he finally said quietly, his throat feeling as if it would close at any second. "Tony, I..."

The door to the room opened, and Obadiah walked in. The sight of Steve and Tony in bed together caused him to pause for a second, but he quickly bristled past it. "Tony, my boy. You look much better."

Tony smiled, even if he wanted to pull Steve back down with him as he sat up and got out of bed. Carefully rolling onto his back again, he couldn't help but wince as the movement made the pain flare. "Good to see you too, Obie," he said before either one could ask him if he was okay. "I didn't think I'd see you until next week. Pepper said you would be busy. With..."

Steve saw the way that the words died out in his mouth, how he couldn't say 'the explosion,' and the urge to kick Obadiah out began to rise again. Not that it was hard, anyway. "Tony, you should rest. I can--"

"He looks much better, Mr. Rogers," Obadiah interrupted, sitting at the foot of the bed and gently patting Tony's shin as he turned to him. "How about you let your husband go get some rest at home, you and I can hang out for a few hours."

Steve, who had been watching like a hawk as he stood next to Tony's bed, snapped his attention to Tony at Obadiah's words and noticed how he didn't seem sure how he should answer. "No, I can stay. It's no problem."

"You should rest properly; I highly doubt a couch is comfortable. This way you can get something to eat, relax... Tony is my family as well; I promise you, I will take good care of him."

"No."

Tony spoke up then. "It's fine, Steve. I promise."

"Tony--"

"He's right, you should rest. Can you maybe bring me some clothes, too? I'm kind of tired of the hospital gown." Tony gave a faint smile. "If something comes up, I'll let you know."

Steve turned to Obadiah, who smirked at him before busying himself by untying his tie, and then back to Tony who was doing his best to smile as reassuringly as possible. "I won't be long," Steve promised, taking his hand to give it a small squeeze, and without a second thought leaned close to him to press a kiss against his forehead. As if to say, I promise I won't be long. I'll come back.

As he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, Steve was quick to pull out his phone and dial for Bucky. "Can you do me a huge favor?" he asked the second his friend answered. "Could you come down to the hospital and just hang out until I come back?"

There was a sound of rustling papers before Bucky seemed to find his voice to answer. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure. You're taking off?"

"I need to get some things from home." And check emails. He doubted his professors were happy with him and his lack of homework. "I just. Stane is here."

The tone in Bucky's voice changed at once, and suddenly Steve was glad he hadn't told him about his encounter with Nick Fury. He hated to think how much more Bucky would dislike Obadiah Stane. "Yeah, we'll be right there."

"Thanks. Wait, 'we'?"

"Bye, Steve!"

***

"So, how are you really feeling, kiddo?"

The question made Tony turn to Obadiah after watching Steve walk out. Especially as he used a nickname he hadn't heard in...

Hell, he couldn't even remember.

"Fine," he said as soon as the surprise subsided, his smile still on his face. It didn't last for long, though. "How... Has there been an update yet? On what exactly happened?"

"Not yet. You shouldn't worry about that."

"A lot of people died, Obie."

"And you could have been one of them, but you weren't. You need to focus on getting better first, Tony." His eyes trailed to the external pacemaker that Tony was hooked to, and then to the heart monitor. "Your doctor was very smart. You were lucky."

"I'm hooked to that thing for the rest of my life. Whatever is left of it in case this ever fails." The bitterness in his voice made himself blink, and Tony sighed under his breath. "No, yeah. I... You're right. I am lucky."

"You'll be fine," Obadiah said reassuringly, patting his shin once more. "In no time you'll be able to go home, go back to work. It will take some adjustment, I'm sure, to have to deal with it but I'm sure if anyone can figure it out it'll be you."

Tony froze at that, the reality of his situation suddenly hitting him with such strength that it made him breathless, and he could feel the walls cave in a little. He would always be hooked to the pacemaker. He wouldn't be able to go out without it, not without lugging it around with him. His eyes trailed down to the bandaged forearms, how one of his hands was in a splint and bandaged as well from the burns, and suddenly he felt so nauseous that he wanted to bolt to the bathroom.

Not that he would be able to, he realized. The pain alone would stop him, along with the wiring of the pacemaker. He wouldn't be able to drag it along quickly enough.

"He has been very patient," Obadiah added as an afterthought. "Your husband, I mean; he has been here through it all. Hadn't you mentioned he was in law school? You know... Im sure he's losing a lot of his classes, I can stop by and keep you company so he doesn't have to."

Tony couldn't answer at first. He could only give a faint nod, his free hand clenching slowly into a small fist. The movement made the pain in his arms flare again, but it didn't stop him. He deserved that pain, he figured. It was for him to carry and deal with. "Can you... Sorry, Obie, I think Steve was right. I need some sleep."

"Of course, Tony." Standing, he just smiled at him. "You let me know if you need anything, okay?"

This time Tony couldn't even fake the smile; he just nodded and tried to find a way to figure things out.

***

True to his word, Steve didn't take long. A quick shower and an even quicker meal were all he gave himself time for, and after packing some of his clothes along with Tony's, he set out to the hospital again.

Half expecting Obadiah to still be there, Steve couldn't truly hide his surprise at seeing Pepper and Bucky in the room with Tony, who was fast asleep in bed.

"He's been sleeping this whole time," Bucky told Steve as he walked to the bed to check on Tony. "The nurse said he asked for something for the pain."

Steve paused at that, because he still remembered Tony's reaction a few days ago at being asked if he wanted or needed a painkiller. How he had almost snapped because, despite the pain, he was adamant about not having anything. Had he reached his limit? "Thanks for coming over."

Pepper smiled. "It's no problem. I wanted to check on him, too. Has the doctor mentioned when he can go home?"

"They want to keep him under observation for a bit longer. Just in case. At work, how is everything going?"

Pepper's smile became pinched. "Not too great. There has been a lot of speculation on what happened."

Steve saw the shadow that crossed her face, and he frowned. "Speculation? Like what?"

She hesitated, but it wasn't for very long. "Some people say that he was very erratic that morning," she said quietly, even if Tony seemed too deeply asleep to hear anything. "Every effort has been made to not let rumors reach the media, but everyone has their own conclusion. And...the board is a little restless, not knowing the full details of his condition."

"It's none of their business."

"I know, and I agree, but... Thats not how they see it."

Steve's frown deepened, turning to look at Tony. He was not much younger than himself, but the way he looked as he slept made him seem so young. Too young for him to be running a multi-billion dollar international company. Not that he doubted he could do it, but after everything that happened...

The timing of Obadiah's visit with Tony caving in for painkillers wasn't lost on Steve, either. Why do you trust him? Steve wanted to ask Tony. Why did your dad trust him?

Pulling out his phone, Steve dialed for Obadiah's cell phone as he walked out of the room with Bucky following right behind him. Tony had given him his number, "just in case," and even if before he had doubted he would ever use it, now he was just glad to have it even if he clenched to his phone with enough strength that it was a wonder he didn't break it.

"Mr. Rogers," Obadiah answered after two rings. "What a surprise."

"Did something happen?"

"What are you talking about?"

"With Tony. Did something happen. He was fine, and now..."

Obadiah waited as Steve trailed off, and he sighed. "You said it yourself. He needs rest. Your husband is no longer the person you knew." A beat. "No matter how brief that time was."

The way that he said that made Steve go still, his mind suddenly racing. "You don't know what you're talking about," he finally responded. "Whatever you said to him, I will find out and--"

"And, what? I may not know what I'm talking about, according to you, but you don't know what you've gotten yourself into. I'll give you a fair warning, though. Get out of it while you still can."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, Steve. It's a fact. You've enjoyed your anonymity all your life. You've had your privacy. You had law school. You gave it all up for, what, a sham? You gave it almost two months; don't you think that's enough? Think about what's ahead, kid, and ask yourself if it's worth it."

The line died then, and Steve hung up as he clenched his phone even tighter. Bucky, who was staring at him, couldn't just stay silent anymore. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Steve grumbled as he walked back into Tony's room. "He's an asshole."

"Oh. So nothing new, then."

***

Once Tony woke up after Pepper and Bucky had left, there were no more fights over whether or not he should take painkillers - Tony asked for them before the nurses could even offer. Steve tried asking him if he was okay, but Tony would just give a fake smile and say that yes, he was fine, before riding out the haze they put him under by listening to music with his eyes closed rather than doing anything else. There were no more conversations, or jokes, and he ignored everyone on the days that followed to the point that the doctor insisted he should talk to the hospital's psychologist.

Tony never answered, though. He would just stare blankly ahead, or away, while drowning out everyone with the music that Steve had brought for him. Steve was half tempted to ask the doctor to lower the pain medication in hopes to make Tony more alert and lucid, but every time that thought came up, it was quickly erased whenever he would see how much pain he was in while the dressings would be changed. There was no way he could willingly make Tony go through that without something to take off the edge.

So, sitting in silence became their new routine. Tony would ignore the world, Steve would work on his course work close by while keeping an eye on him, and Pepper would show up to help keep Tony company whenever Steve had to go out. Getting used to that routine was far more difficult than their initial one, but Steve had no idea what to do to fix it when Tony didn't seem interested to help.

One night, though, almost a week after Tony had fallen into his subdued state, Steve was jolted out of his reading as an alarm started blaring on the monitor that Tony was still hooked onto. Tossing the textbook aside, and leaping up from his spot on the couch, he immediately moved towards the bed as his own heart felt as if it was stopping; especially when he noticed that Tony had woken up, and looked up at Steve with a panicked look on his face as his uninjured hand clutched to his chest.

"I can't--" He wheezed. "Steve--"

Before Steve could even try to reassure him, he was pushed aside as a team of doctors and nurses rushed in. If it wasn't for the speed and efficiency that they began treating tony with, Steve would have pushed his way back to Tony's side. As it was, though, he could only watch as he lost consciousness just as he was being wheeled out of the room on a stretcher.

"Please let us stabilize him, Mr. Rogers," he heard someone say as they held him back.

It felt like an eternity before anyone came back to the room, but before the sun began to rise Tony was wheeled back in, with Dr. Yinsen close behind.

"How is he?" Steve asked at once, watching as he was re-hooked back onto the machinery that immediately began displaying his vitals again. The only reason he didn't move towards the bed, was because Tony was still unconscious and Dr. Yinsen's look on his face made something in Steve twist painfully within him.

"He's stable again, but the strength of the pacemaker is starting to not be enough to hold all the shrapnel in place. Not only that, but his heartbeats became erratic enough that he almost suffered a heart attack."

"He's in his twenties. He can't-- he's too young for heart attacks."

"He's in his twenties," Yinsen agreed with a nod, "but with a pacemaker and shrapnel lodged within his body. I'm sorry, Mr. Rogers. There is only so much we can do."

"What... What does that mean?"

"It means I'm screwed," Tony said groggily from his bed, his eyes barely open.

"Don't say that."

Tony let out a small wry chuckle under his breath, ignoring how the doctor excused himself and said they would talk later. Steve, noticing the way Tony was already tuning him out by staring blankly at the ceiling, approached his bed and took his hand. "Hey. Look at me. Tony."

"Don't. I'm tired, just let me sleep."

"No. You need to listen to me." When he didn't turn, Steve did the only thing he could think of doing; he sat on the bed, right by his side, and took his chin to steer him towards him. "Your doctor already saved you once. I'm sure there is something--"

"I know I barely woke up, but I heard what he said. He actually already told me, okay? Let. It. Go."

"Tony."

Suddenly Tony seemed more alert than ever, even if the grogginess in his voice remained. "And even if something comes up, what's left? I'm hooked to some machine for the rest of my life? I'm sure the press will LOVE that, don't you? Some sort of new accessory for Tony Stark to wear? Look at me. Just LOOK AT ME." He tried to pull his hand away from Steve's, but when he refused to let go Tony just kept struggling against him. "This is the rest of my life. I'm at the mercy of machines, and medications, and for what? For this? To wait out death rather than being left in that building? I'm dead, anyway."

Not knowing how else to make him stop talking, Steve took him by the shoulders, as if pinning him on the bed, and kissed him. Tony tried to push him away, but the attempts didn't last for long; he kissed him desperately, his free hand grasping wildly at the front of his shirt to pull him closer.

He didn't have to, though, because the second that Steve felt him kiss him back, he just held him closer to him. Because he had been so terrified that Tony wouldn't come back; that the doctor would say that he had slipped away. Instead there he was, and no matter how angry and desperate he seemed, he was alive and his lips were warm.

The coldness of his fingers could be felt through his shirt, though, and suddenly Steve was very much aware of the hospital room, and the heart monitor that began showing how quickly his heartbeats were accelerating.

Pulling back just inches away from his face, Steve then realized how breathless Tony sounded. "Sorry, we shouldn't--"

"No, please, just..." He winced, his body betraying his best attempts to sound normal, but it wasn't enough to stop him from trying to pull Steve back to him. "Don't stop."

Rather than kissing him, though, Steve rested his forehead against his as he spoke quietly, as if to help calm him down. "Breathe first. Please, I can't be responsible for giving you a heart attack."

This made Tony choke out a laugh, but he just nodded slightly as his breathing slowly began matching Steve's pace. "Why did you..." His expression grew serious. "No. No, Steve. I can't."

"What?"

"We can't do this. You have a life outside of me. Outside of here. I shouldn't have... I should have never asked your help. Your classes, and your degree--"

"Can wait." Steve sat up then, but Tony wouldn't make eye contact again. "Besides, you were right. Pepper really is a miracle worker, I've been doing my work while I've been here."

"But afterwards--"

"Damn it, why do you get to choose what I should do?"

"WHY? Do you not hear the heart monitor? Do you really want to be around this?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you? I don't want to lose you." The words came out more harshly than he had intended, but he couldn't help it. Not when it felt like he was losing him before it was time. "Don't give up yet, we can... I don't know. I just don't want to lose you." One hand still pinned him down as if to secure him there and he wouldn't disappear, and the other rested on the side of his face as his thumb gently traced over a particularly nasty bruise. "You hear me, Tony Stark? We're married. You need to listen to me."

Tony stayed silent, too stunned to talk as he looked up at Steve, and finally he nodded. "Yes, sir," he said with a faint trace of a smirk on his face, and giving him a mock salute. Before Steve could get up, Tony was quick to grasp onto his shirt again. "Can we get back to... You know."

Steve laughed then, and carefully laid down next to him. "No, but we can sleep"

"Steve..."

"Good night, Tony."

Scooting closer to him as much as the medical equipment allowed him to, Tony let out a loud sigh. One that was cut short as he felt Steve's warmth move closer to him as well. "Good night, Steve."

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