Chapter Text
You nearly run into Steve on your way down into Tony’s lab. Steve grabs your shoulders to steady you in an attempt to avoid a fatal collision. You know for sure that the sheer size of him would have crushed you.
“Thanks, Cap.” He just smiles at you as you straighten the paper bag in your arms.
“He’s sleeping,” Steve says simply. You breathe a sigh of relief at that.
“Oh, thank the heavens. It’s easy once he’s gone down but if he gets some food and coffee in him first then I swear he won’t sleep for another week.” Steve looks slightly distressed at that, but you just wave him off with your free hand. “It’s fine. He’ll be fine.”
“You’re very good at taking care of him. He’s lucky to have you.” You blush a little at Steve’s comment. You’ve been dating Tony for a while now, but the thought of being important to him still sends a rush of happiness through your body.
“It’s just been a few rough months, he’s healing.” At least I hope so.
Steve just nods and moves away from the lab entrance. “I’ll see you later tonight for movies, right?”
“Yes! We’ve finally made it to the Harry Potter series, I can’t wait.”
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FRIDAY unlocks the lab and you enter as silently as is humanly possible. If you were to wake Tony up now, he would never go back to sleep. He’s slumped down on one of his workbenches, face awkwardly scrunched on a piece of impressive looking tech. You sigh and make your way over to one of the many cabinets lining the far wall. You had stashed a fair number of comfy blankets and pillows in here a while ago for such occasions. Although, really, you had hoped that the presence of such comforts would inspire Tony to sleep more; but that hasn’t exactly worked out.
You pull out a plush gray blanket and gently drape it over Tony’s body. Then, you place the paper bag close to his face so that he’ll definitely see it when he wakes up. Inside the bag is a very generous breakfast and a cheesy note.
Tony hasn’t been the same since Ultron. He’s been working longer and harder than you had even thought possible for a single person to handle. You’ve taken to visiting him in the mornings before work to drop off food and good vibes. The little notes you leave him are just words of encouragement to let him know that he’s loved. You’re tempted to run your fingers through his hair before leaving but you can’t risk waking him up. Instead you just smile and take a picture of him with your phone. Hello, new wallpaper.
Toe-Knee,
No one is as amazing as you are superstar!
P.S. You better eat that food because some underpaid gas station worker put in a lot of effort to heat that up for you.
P.P.S. Don’t forget movies with Steve tonight!!!
Lots of gross hugs and kisses that would make a nun blush,
Y/N
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There are protestors outside of the Avengers Tower when you return from work. There have been some very-not-happy people coming out of the woodwork since Sokovia, but recently it’s been especially bad. Some of the people are after Wanda but others are taking their anger out on Tony. Never mind the fact that most of them are woefully misinformed about the situation. A few local news stations have been targeting many of the Avengers for damages done in the past. There’s been a lot of talk on the lack of control that anyone has over the superheroes. It’s put pretty much everyone on edge.
Your face grows red with anger as you wade through the crowd, trying to get inside. You do your best to ignore their hateful shouting. You’re practically teeming with rage and sadness when you reach the tower’s main living room. Tony is standing in front of a window, watching.
“Don’t look at the bullshit,” you blurt out angrily. Tony turns around to look at you, his face guarded.
“They’re right though,” he says. You drop your purse on the floor and groan, exasperated.
“No, they’re not! You’re not a terrible person, Tony.” He rolls his eyes at you and turns back to face the window. You pinch the bridge of your nose, frustrated with everyone and everything. “Tony, just look at me.” He doesn’t budge. You walk over to stand behind him.
“Tony.” You tap his shoulder lightly. After a moment he finally turns back around. The look on his face breaks your heart.
“You don’t understand.” You lean in to hug him, squeeze him tight.
“Then help me to. Help me understand what you’re going through.” You kiss the middle of his chest where the arc reactor used to be.
“I have to be better,” he says as he moves away from you.
“You are! You’re a million times better than any of those people down there!”
“I have to be better,” he repeats. He moves even further away from you and begins to pace about the room. His look is so far away, completely lost in thought.
“Tony, stop it. Please just stop it!” You shout at him, desperately trying to get his attention. “Tony!” He stops mid-pace and he snaps his attention to you, an expression of near delirium on his face now.
“You don’t understand. Those people,” he points out the window, “those people –.”
“Those people aren’t shit, Tony! I don’t understand! I don’t! I don’t understand how you can’t see how wonderful and great and caring and –.”
“It’s my fault,” he says quietly.
“Tony, I -.” He clenches his fists and storms off to the elevator. You let him go, knowing that he’ll need some space, though you struggle to let him have it.
Your eyes burn as you fight back tears. Fresh air, need fresh air. You rub your eyes violently, trying to wipe away the sting. You don’t bother with the elevator and instead run for the stairs. The cold air hits your face as you open the front doors of the tower, a small bit of relief.
The shouts of the protestors finally reach your ears and in that moment all you can see is red.
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” You scream with all your might at the group of people in front of you. Your hands are balled into tight fists and you close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. The crowd goes silent for a moment, most likely from shock. You open your eyes to see all of them staring at you. You glare them down.
“Shut up,” you say again, more quietly but certainly with more threat behind it. The crowd stares at you for a few more moments before starting back up again. One woman continues to stare you down. You glare right back.
“Tony Stark is war profiteer!” The woman shouts at you, “An irresponsible murderer!”
“You’re all just garbage people! You don’t know anything!” You make a move to get through the crowd, hoping to escape before your temper gets the better of you. The same woman steps in front of you, blocking your intended path.
“Tony Stark is a villain!” No sooner are the words out of the woman’s mouth than you feel your fist connecting with her jaw. The woman stumbles back in shock then swings her sign at you, the wooden post hitting the side of your face hard. You can feel the corner of your eye start to bleed but everything is lost to you in that moment as you lurch forward at the woman.
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You’ve been sitting in an NYPD holding cell for about two hours. A large fight had broken out after you had launched yourself at that horrible woman. The crowd had, of course, been all too happy to point you out to the police as the instigator. In the end, the woman had decided against pressing charges, but the police took you in for public fighting.
You’re holding off on making that phone call to Tony, you’re so embarrassed. You had thought about just calling Steve instead, but you knew that you would have to talk to Tony about what happened. You rub your already too-red eyes and walk towards the front of the holding cell.
“Excuse me,” you call out to the officer at the desk. “I’d like to make a phone call.” The officer hands you the slightly sticky phone. You steel your composure as you punch in Tony’s number, hoping that he’ll actually pick up.
FRIDAY answers the call immediately. You have to laugh a little at the automated message, claiming that prank calls would not be tolerated and that –
“FRIDAY, it’s me, it’s Y/N.” You interrupt the message, hoping that FRIDAY would just patch you through to Tony. The message stops, and the phone begins to ring again. Though it only takes a few seconds for Tony to pick up, it feels like an eternity.
“Hello?” He sounds rough.
“Hey,” you whisper, your voice wavering a lot more than you had anticipated. You hear him let out a huge sigh of relief, as though he had been holding it in since you left the tower.
“Y/N? Where are you? I’ve been so worried… I mean, Steve was just beside himself when you didn’t show up for movie night. Look I… I know that I was frustrated when you left but – “
“I’m in jail.” A pause.
“I’m sorry what?” The somberness of Tony’s voice is immediately replaced with dumbfounded shock.
“I’m… in a holding cell.” You bite your bottom lip, trying to will yourself to explain the situation. Tony lets out a short, hysterical sounding laugh.
“Is this a joke? I thought FRIDAY made it very clear that prank calls would not be tolerated and if you just need some space then that’s fine I – .”
“I punched someone because they called you a villain.” Another pause.
“What?” You sigh.
“Look, Tony, I’m so embarrassed okay? After you stormed off to your lab, I was just so mad that those hideous people could make you feel like you’re not an amazingly brilliant human being. I was just trying to move through the protestors and I… I punched someone.” The line is silent. “Tony? I’m so sorry. I’m not asking you to bail me out or anything I just wanted to apologize, I shouldn’t have done that and I should have called sooner and – .”
“I love you.”