WORD COUNT: 1300

SUMMARY: 

Tony has a nightmare.

WARNINGS: none

AUTHOR: Killer raccoon

It was the quietest morning there’d been in
months, save the dull croak of the piano and the moaning of the floorboards
beneath the pianists tapping foot.

Tony stood behind the rows of white chairs,
stiff and unmoving, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Across the
quickly filling room, Bucky noticed him and attempted a smile, but immediately
his lips began to quiver and he turned down to look at his feet before Tony could
try to return the gesture. 

Bucky, the only one in this room who fully
understood Tony’s presence here, the only man who knew what had been going on
behind closed doors. Because Steve had insisted he know, had told Tony that if
he couldn’t trust Bucky, then what were they even doing?

Tony watched Sam slide in next to Bucky,
place a hand on the man’s shoulder and sit him down, and then Tony was alone
again. Something he hadn’t felt in years.

The more people filed into the room, the
more sullen the mood became. Natasha sat on the other side of Bucky, and Clint
next to her, and Tony’s throat tightened in anguish as even Nick Fury,
accompanied by Phil and Maria, made their way down the rows of chairs. It
didn’t matter if nobody had the time for a full blown ceremony: they made time. 

Sam had pulled him aside a few days ago to
assure him that he’d be welcomed with open arms, but Tony had his doubts, and
therefore kept his distance. He was somewhere deep in his own head anyway. He
didn’t even notice Pepper next to him, brows furrowed as she tapped furiously
at her phone, or Rhodey, dressed up in his navy blue suit, hands also clasped
behind his back, but in respect rather than anxiety. Tony knew he should have
been one of the men carrying in the… but of course he chose to stand
next to Tony, and in some lost part of his conscious mind, Tony appreciated
that. 

But when the music slowed and died and what
was left of the hushed conversations among the room was cut off, Tony was sure
his heart stopped. He was able to keep himself composed, lips pursed and face
blank, all of his muscles tensed to keep from shaking. However, when the first
two soldiers stepped into the room, shoulders straight and hats in their hands,
and Tony knew what
would be following them, he fucking lost it. His breathing shortened, his head
swayed dizzily, and before he knew it, he was busting through the side door
into the empty hallways, straight towards the wall to keep him right side up.
He pressed his forehead against the cool, brick walls, gasping for air. Luckily
he was in the back, so he hardly disturbed anyone. 

But of course, one man had noticed. One man
had dashed out after him, was now placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder, gentle,
but firm.

“Breathe." 

Both hands were on him when he wouldn’t calm
down, and he knew that they learned this in the military, he understood, but
with the steadiness of his voice, with the serum, Bucky sounded and felt
too much like Steve, all those restless, summer nights when Tony was kept up
and he had been there for him, and it made everything worse. He couldn’t get
air into his lungs, his eyes spun in and out of focus, and he trembled
violently beneath the other man’s grasp. And who the hell was Tony to Steve, to
be comforted by the dead man’s best
friend. It was absolutely unfair to Bucky, and Tony felt sick with
guilt and selfishness. He turned around, gently pushing Bucky away from him.

"I’m sorry,” He wheezed, and
Bucky was shaking his head like Tony had no reason to apologize, but he
absolutely did. 

Within the next few seconds, Rhodey was in
the halls, pushing Bucky to the side to get to Tony.

“Thank you, Buck, but I can handle
this.” He said.

“I don’t think you understand”
Bucky protested.

“The hell, I don’t understand.”
Rhodey snapped. “I know Tony better than he knows himself. I’m not stupid,
and I’m not blind.” He looked up to Bucky then, and his face softened
apologetically. 

“Please, you are the last person who
should have to do this. Go pay your respects to Steve. I’ll take care of
him.” He said. Bucky nodded silently and turned to leave. 

By then, Tony was catching his breath,
letting a warmth flood through him and calm his nerves, though his hands still
shook hard. 

“You knew?” He asked quietly, and
Rhodey, despite everything else, managed a smile. 

“You thought you could keep a secret
like that from me? I mean, honestly, Tony." 

Tony huffed, just then realizing how
foolish it was to actually believe that he had kept the relationship between he
and Steve from Rhodey. 

"He’s gone,” he breathed
suddenly, clasping a hand over his mouth in awe at what had just escaped, a
electric shock shooting through him as the words rang true, and then Rhodey was
pulling him into a hug, burying Tony’s face into his shoulder. Tony clenched
his teeth, refusing to cry, but breathed heavily through his nose, gasps
shuddering through his body as he held it all in, and Rhodey became the only
thing holding Tony in one piece. 

Steve was gone okay, and did Tony ever
fully appreciate when he was around? Did he take the time to let him know that?
Looking back, he knew it had always been a frantic, desperate rush of fumbling
fingers and clothes strewn across the floor. Tony always thought they’d have
time to take their time. 

Did he even ever tell Steve that he loved
him? That he was doubtlessly, unconditionally in love with him?

Did he even know at the time? 

Tony shut his eyes tight, held on to Rhodey
tighter in horror as his knees buckles. He could feel his heart wasn’t going to
hold together, could feel the world around him crumbling, and when he managed
to open his eyes…

---

 There was darkness. Tony blinked once,
twice, realized he was on his back. His hair, shirt, and the mattress beneath
him were all soaked in sweat. Tony shot up, the force causing an immediate
headache, and searched the room as his eyes adjusted to the dark. His heart was
pounding hard in his chest, fear in his throat as he chanced a glace at the
weight he felt against his hip. He sucked in a breath.

“Steve?” He croaked. There was a
small, groggy yawn and then two large, muscled arms that peaked through the
covers, revealing a half asleep, but definite Steve Rogers as he stretched,
shifted to turn around, and put an arm around Tony’s waste, pulling him back
down and against his own body heat. Tony’s sigh of relief came out as a choked
sob, and he pressed his nose into Steve’s chest in an attempt to muffle his
sudden sounds. However, that startled Steve completely out of sleep.

“Tony? He tried to sit up, pulling
Tony away from him and brushing his damp hair out of his face. "Tony, are
you okay?” He was pouting at him as Tony quickly regained control of his
emotions. 

“No, I’m not okay. I love
you." 

Steve stared at him, confused in his half
dream state, cheeks flushed with the heat of the summer night, hair sticking up
in a way that warmed Tony’s heart. 

And then he was kissing him, the slowest
kiss they’d ever had, and Steve kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his
shoulder. Tony felt dizzy as Steve took his hand and pressed his lips gently to
his wrist, the palm of his hand.

"I love you too." 

---