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Chapter Text

Bruce was as introverted as it got. He was no fan of parties, public interactions, or even meeting with people. There were rarely people he could hold a conversation with.

It might have been because he was socially awkward, it might have been because he had the Hulk inside of him.

Either way, he was constantly being alarmed with the little things. When people tried to act around him, act like there wasn't a huge, raging, green beast inside of him, it got even worse. It was the fact that he could tell they were acting.

The only person he had ever met who actually wasn't afraid of him- genuinely was not afraid of the other guy- was Tony Stark, of all people.

And it wasn't like Natasha, who was skilled at acting, and it wasn't like Steve, who was too polite to bring it up. Tony Stark really, truly, did not give a shit about the other guy. He just wasn't afraid. He borderline taunted the Hulk into coming out, poking and prodding Bruce to no extent. Tony brought it up as easily as discussing the weather. He didn't try to dig around the facts, he didn't try to stray away from the subject.

Tony made Bruce feel more human.

And the Hulk cared about the mechanic, too. It was no secret that the other guy had saved Iron Man's life on multiple occasions. In return, Tony made sure the Hulk stayed in control and kept him out of too much trouble.

Shortly after the battle with Loki and after everything that happened in New York, Tony offered the Stark Tower- the Avengers Tower, now- as a base for the team. Clint and Natasha moved in quickly, shortly followed by Steve. Thor stopped by whenever he wasn't with Jane or in Asgard. Bruce knew he was invited, but at the same time... he felt like it would be a burden to the team. He didn't want any of them to feel unsafe in their own HQ.

Eventually Tony upright confronted him about it right after a mission debriefing.

"Hey, Banner. I'm getting worried, you haven't stopped by the tower to drop off your bags yet."

"Uh- I wasn't planning on moving in...?"

"Bruce, your apartment is teensy. Plus, if you move in, you get your own lab. Hell, everyone gets their own floor. I've designed yours with a Green Room, specifically designed to relieve stress and anger. Everything is Hulk-proof, meditation room included."

Because of course Tony had already planned and built his entire floor. Instead of feeling embarrassed about the quip to his apartment, Bruce felt oddly touched. He agreed to check it out, which had later turned into an hour of Tony begging him to move in so that they could talk science all night.

(Bruce eventually agreed.)

And so he moved in, and the Avengers were all housed inside one tower. It went better than Bruce thought it would- although everyone still had their own issues and trust was still somewhat sketchy, they had things like movie night and Mario Kart races on Tuesdays. The Hulk didn't make an appearance until he was safely inside the Green Room, where, to Tony's word, nothing broke.

Bruce felt like he had a family. He had a place.

In fact, Tony treated him surprisingly respectfully, besides the occasional friendly remark. (Respectful friendly remarks.) He supported him with everything he did, and gave him access to everywhere and anywhere in the tower.

...Which was why, when Bruce was bringing Tony a cup of coffee, he was shocked to find that he couldn't enter Tony's workshop.

////////

"JARVIS? Can you open the door?"

"Unfortunately I can not, Dr. Banner. Mr. Stark has placed a lock code to access his workshop."

Bruce's eyes widened. "You mean I'm not allowed in?" He didn't even feel hurt, because he barely understood. It was so, so unlike Tony to lock him out of a room that Bruce was sure it had to be a mistake. However JARVIS' sympathetic voice wasn't mistaken.

"To a certain level. I can request entrance from Mr. Stark if you wish?"

He nodded uncertainly. "Yeah... if you would."

There was a long beat of silence before the door slid open and Tony slipped out of the room before the door closed again. Bruce raised an eyebrow.
Tony looked exhausted, dark circles lining under his eyes, his face smudged with black oil and scratches. His hair was stuck up randomly, in wild tangles. He looked even thinner than usual, and as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

(Both of which were probably correct.)

"Hey, Brucie-Bear..." He started, plastering a smile on his face. "How're you doing?"

"I brought you coffee."

Tony lit up happily, taking the coffee and nearly downing it. "Oh god, thank you! I was on the point of going back upstairs to get some more!"

Bruce blinked. "Um, Tony? I mean, I have no right to ask it of you or anything, or to expect it," Tony inhaled sharply, but didn't say anything as Bruce continued. "But why'd you lock me out of the room? If it's because you don't want the other guy to mess up-"

"-No! That's not it at all, it's not like that, Bruce!"

Silence fell over the two and tension filled the air. Bruce shifted uncomfortably.

"Um, Banner... it's not you. You know that I'm not worried about the other guy. It's just... I sort of lied to you when I said every room was available to go in. The exception is this place. It's sort of my hideaway, you know?"

Bruce nodded slowly. "Yeah. Sorry."

Tony gave him a long look before threading his hands through his hair and sighing.

"You can... you can come in, if you want."

Bruce recognized that most people would turn away. He realized that others would back off and politely decline, giving Tony his space. But he also felt that Tony had enough space lately. It might be the few times Tony actually offered to open up.

"Okay."

Tony's jaw slackened for a moment. "Oh-um, yeah! Er... yeah. Yeah. C'mon in, man."

////////

For the first half-hour Bruce spent inside Tony's workshop, Tony was tense, awkward, and oddly shy about his work, hardly saying a word. Bruce understood that Tony had his time away here, but he had no idea it was so bad that he was fumbling over his own words.

Somewhere after the first thirty minutes, Bruce started asking about the suit and Tony immediately opened up, going into five-minute rambles about the physics and mechanics of the Iron Man suit.

It was relaxing.

When JARVIS let out the announcement that Bruce was needed to help Clint heal on his floor, he was actually disappointed to leave.

////////

It didn't change the fact that the next time Bruce brought coffee to Tony's workshop, the door opened without him even having to ask.

"Welcome back to the workshop, Dr. Banner."

Chapter Text

Clint liked Tony, he really did.

They had a lot in common, from the sarcastic quips, their coffee addictions, and love of Mario Kart, to the fact that they both had dark pasts. (Who didn't?)

He also noticed a lot in Tony that he wasn't sure anyone else with the exception of Natasha realized. Things, such as the fact that Tony had a fake smile in public, in front of cameras, whenever he was injured, or whenever he felt threatened. The smile went up, his emotions got tucked away, and Tony became Tony Stark. Once the smile was up, it wasn't coming down.

Clint noticed that Tony forgot he was human. He constantly worked himself to the core in his workshop, forgot basic needs like food and sleep, and often berated himself for things that were completely out of his control.

Really, Clint Barton just saw things in Tony.

And, to be honest, he trusted the man, which was something he didn't do lightly. He was we aware that Tony would put his life on the line for anyone- suicidal tendencies- even after knowing them for less than a month. He knew that Tony would be there for him.

So when the offer came to move into the new Avengers Tower, Clint was the first to sign up. Natasha tried to talk him out of it, at first, but soon enough he had convinced her that if they were going to be a team they needed to trust each other, which may or may not have meant moving in together.

What neither of them expected was that each of them would get their own floor.

Clint also had his own archery range.

An interestingly enough, that wasn't even Clint's favorite part. The best part was that Tony had specifically given Clint sized air vents that tunneled all along the tower. It was moving, really, that Tony had noticed Clint's over-obsession with being in the vents. It was a safe place for Clint, one that he was worried he wouldn't have once he moved in. The fact that Tony had them installed really hit a nerve for the archer.

In fact, he'd rather enjoyed every aspect of moving in. With weekly battles on Mario Kart, (Clint beat Tony 11/10) and with the companionable silence they shared while they ate Breakfast, (sometimes; usually Tony forgot trivial things like eating) Clint really felt like he fit in at the tower. The Avengers turned into a family, and Avengers Tower was a big home.

He'd been meaning to thank Tony for a long time.

///////

Clint crawled through the vents, grunting as his hand slipped and he hit his head on the top part of the metal shaft. "Fuck," He mumbled. "Where the fuck am I?"

Usually he knew where he was, but he had gone down the ladders in the vents, up a few, and gotten so twisted and lost in the maze of air ducts that he really had no clue where he was in the Tower. The only thing to do would be to open one of the entrances and peak out, but he was worried he was on Natasha's floor. (Or worse, some sort of bathroom.)

He was still deciding whether or not to look out when he heard it.

"How long do you reckon I have left, Jarv?"

Tony's floor?

Clint grinned wickedly and looked through the tiny slits in the metal. He still couldn't see anything, so he slid the vent up and peered inside.

Not just Tony's floor, it's his workshop!

That's when he took notice of Tony. The mechanic was standing in front of a mirror so Clint could easily see what was going on. Jesus! Clint's jaw dropped in shocked horror as he looked into the mirror to see Tony standing, one hand clutching the Arc Reactor, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

"How long do you reckon I have left, Jarv?"

Clint immediately lunged, opening the entrance entirely and falling out of the vents, running towards his friend. There was no way in hell he was letting that happen. He knew Tony had self-destructive tendencies, but he had no idea he was actively suicidal!

Tony jumped and gasped at the bang of the vent as Clint fell, scrambling back into the mirror. JARVIS' silky voice immediately started. "Sir, your heart rate has increased and the risk of fatality is raising to eighty-five percent!" If the AI could sound frantic, he did. (He really could.)

"What the fuck- Barton?! What- why are you here?!" Tony asked sharply, shaking uncontrollably. Clint was ripping the arc reactor out of his hands, and quickly trying to shove it back into Tony's empty chest.

God, it was so deep. It had to be a good four inches deep, and Tony was already thin.

"Shit! Stop, fucking- stop!"

Clint finally managed to fit the reactor into it's socket somehow and twisted it until it clicked.

(He just then realized that he was straddling Tony, who looked extremely frightened.)

"Agent Barton, I recommend that you get a good distance back," JARVIS said calmly. Clint took the hint and quickly stepped back, still panting. There was a long beat of silence before Tony stood up- much too shakily- and turned to glare at the archer.

"Okay, okay. What the fuck was that?!"

Clint glared just as harshly in return. "I just saved your life, you dickhead! What were you doing?!"

"Updating it! It can't be connected while I upgrade it, idiot." Tony sighed, still shaking wildly. "The real question is why you thought it would be a good idea to charge in here- from the vents- and take the goddamn thing that is keeping me alive."

"I thought..." Clint started, finally running out of energy. "I thought you were trying to- well. I mean, you looked like... and what you said..."

"You thought I was trying to kill myself."

Tony had an odd look in his eye.

Then he broke out into a grin and Clint wanted to hit him out of it. It was fake. It was the famous Tony Stark's publicity grin. There was no talking to Tony when his masks were up like that.

"Yeah. Sorry."

Tony just grinned harder. "That's alright, birdbrain. I didn't realize you used the vents to spy on me."

Shaking his head, Clint felt a bit of guilt. Tony deserved his privacy. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Just... next time you come in, knock, alright?"

///////

Tony knew that eventually he would have to talk to Clint about that day. Until then, he felt his heart oddly softened by the fact that Clint cared enough to break in like that, even if it wasn't the right thing or time.

Heaven knows that Tony wouldn't succeed in killing himself. He had tried enough times.

But he knew that Clint was there for him. He knew that Clint wouldn't steal the arc reactor. (Like Obadiah.) He knew that Clint put it back and saved him. (Not like Obadiah.) He could trust Clint.

Therefore, the birdbrain was welcome to come in. As long as he knocked or asked JARVIS. No more of this falling-out-of-vents surprise thing.

Tony had never liked surprises.

Chapter Text

Iron Man: Yes. Tony Stark: Not recommended.

It was her own assessment of the man. He had been dying, she hardly knew the real him, and she was already assessing him. (It was her job, on one hand, but on the other hand... it was Tony Stark.)

Prejudice.

She knew he thought he was the Avenger's consultant. In a way, he was. At the same time, he really was a member of the team- a vital member, and not just because of Iron Man. Tony was brilliant, a genius. He was also rich, which was a low blow, but it did count for something. He was trained well in handling media and keeping the other Avengers out of the papers as best as he could, focusing attention on himself. He was selfless. He was also snarky, sarcastic, and the most egotistical asshat Natasha had ever met.

Wait- rephrase. Egotistical and self-destructive. Somehow Tony managed to be obsessed with hating himself. (But he was still an asshole.)

And yet... Natasha actually felt sorry. For her first assessment, that is. She didn't trust the man at first, and it showed. Clint was the one who eventually convinced her that moving into the tower was a good idea.

She wasn't one to apologize in the traditional way, but she could definitely improvise.

///////

Everyone caught onto Tony's 'habit' of not taking things that were handed to him. Natasha knew it wasn't really habit- it was a fear. A quirk. It was Tony's trust issues showing through, and he just hated being handed things.

Trust issues.

Natasha glumly knew that she was also probably part of the cause, after he had poured out his soul to her when he was dying and she had returned the favor by turning out to be a SHIELD spy and assassin who jabbed a syringe (saving his life but still) and also the one who told him specifically that he wasn't an Avenger. Or her report did. Assessment.

Steve was still iffy about the issue, anyway, because to him it would obviously and utterly be their downfall in a battle when it was absolutely necessary for him to hand something to Tony. Bruce and Clint accepted it for what it was. Thor was just completely confused with the entire idea, but he was almost always in Asgard or in New Mexico.

Natasha didn't accept it. She refused to accept it. It was her way of asking for forgiveness, in her own twisted way.

///////

"Stark."

"Miss Rushman. Or is it Mrs. Rushman? Or is it Romanov? I never quite know with you." Tony didn't look up at her, keeping his eyes firmly on the shining piece of metal in front of him.

"Stuff it, genius. I need you to sign these papers or the head of SHIELD security is going to try and dismantle JARVIS."

"I'd like to see them try." Tony said, scoffing and finally turning to look at his comrade.

She held up the clipboard and a pen.

"I don't like to be handed things." He said immediately. Reflex.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. She had been expecting that. "I know. Sign it."

Tony looked startled at her response. His surprise quickly gave into his trademark smirk. He put down the metal completely. "Yeah, right, little spider. I'll take something you hand me, and I'll also let you into my workshop. Oh- oh! And I'm also making you CEO of Stark Industries, and I'm making a memorial for my dad, and- oh my god- I'm dressing up as Captain America for Halloween."

"Take it. It's completely safe- just a clipboard and a paper and a pen."

The billionaire scowled sharply. "I'm not saying I think it's dangerous. I just don't like it when people hand me things. Back the fuck off, Romanov."

Natasha watched him turn back to his work for several minutes before she carefully placed the clipboard and pen on the desk and walked out. Tony had won this round, but she wasn't giving up. Perhaps she would just have to start with something more simple. Subtle. Unnoticeable.

/////////

She tried again a few days later, while she was cooking.

It perhaps wasn't the most subtle thing she had done, volunteering to cook instead of Bruce, and specifically asking for Tony to help her. But desperate measures had to be taken.

"Why exactly do I need to help you do this? I'm pretty sure you know how to cook."

Natasha raised her chin. "Maybe I thought we could use a team-bonding activity."

"Is this about-"

"Just take the fucking pot from my goddamn hand and realize that I'm not out to kill you, Tony."

Tony literally stumbled backwards as the Black Widow thrust the pot in his direction. Did she just call me Tony? He could hardly believe that Natasha cared about him so much as to continue this dumb challenge for weeks. Why couldn't she just accept-

Oh.

Oh.

She was apologizing. Natasha was actually saying sorry. She was trying to get his trust back.

As everything clicked into place, Tony felt a smile creep to his face. If Natasha, of all people, was doing her best to win Tony Stark's trust back, then he wasn't so much of an asshole to just let her keep trying with no real point. So he would try, too.

"Okay."

He reached out, his hands shaking wildly, and he took the pot.

////////

Natasha was shocked that he had actually done it so quickly. He was shaking and afterwards he looked fragile and almost like he was going to cry, but he held together and they actually made Breakfast, and Natasha didn't make him take anything else.

It was a start.

She felt... free. Her assessment had been forgiven. She trusted Tony, and for the most part, Tony forgave and trusted her.

Red from the ledger was leaking out, slowly but surely.

"Hey, widow!"

Natasha glanced up from her book. "What is it now, Stark?"

He smirked. "Hey, I'm a man of my word. I said if you got me to take something, I'd let you into my workshop, and a deal is a deal. Although I'm not sure I'm going to make you CEO of Stark Industries or give my dad a memorial..."

It took everything she had not to gape. Taking something was one thing, but being invited into his workshop? That was completely different. It was personal. It was Tony's safe zone. Each of the Avengers had one- Clint and his archery range, Steve and his punching bags, Bruce's meditation room. It was an honor.

She smiled.

"Thanks. Although, I do remember you promising something about dressing up as a certain superhero for Halloween?"

Tony groaned. "It was a fuckin' joke!"

Chapter Text

Unlike the other Avengers, Thor wasn't pushing to get inside Tony's workshop. He respected privacy.

Yeah, okay, that was a blatant lie.

But it was what Tony thought Thor did, so the last thing Tony expected when he got back from a meeting was Thor to be inside his workshop- god knows how he got in- showing Dummy and JARVIS, apparently, moves he could do with his hammer.

So he wasn't planning on going five shades paler and nearly shouting, "What the fuck are you doing in here?!"

But it still happened.

Thor looked up quickly, taking a step back and having the decency to look sheepish. "Oh, Stark- I was simply... showing these- interesting creations- how to wield the mighty power of Mjolnir."

"No- what the hell are you doing in here? Buddy..." Tony had no idea what to say, honestly.

He liked Thor. But... he didn't just let people in. Thor got the memo. "Oh, right! My apologies, Man of Iron. I will leave." Dummy let out a disappointed whirr as Thor quickly walked out.

////////

Eventually Dummy's whining convinced Tony to let him back in. It was Dummy's fault. Tony had absolutely no say in the matter. None. He didn't want Thor in there, but if Dummy missed him... well, he couldn't have that.

(He would never admit he trusted the guy. Not out loud.)

///////

"Thor?"

"Yes, Stark?"

"Uhhmm... Dummy misses you. In the workshop. So, er, yeah. Stop by sometime, kay?" Thor brightened considerably, but before he could say anything else, Tony was quickly walking away.

After he left, Thor just shook his head and laughed.

Chapter Text

Steve was probably the least trustworthy person on the team, as far as Tony was concerned.

Deep down, he knew that wasn't completely true. Steve was a perfect guy- he had it all. Physique, he was charming, he was irritatingly kind, he could do no wrong... he was a hero. He had been Tony's childhood hero at one time.

That was over.

Tony remembered his dad, scowling down at him, a glass of scotch in one hand. "You know, Steve would've been able to do that." Or, "It's pathetic, Anthony! You're pathetic! Why can't you be more like Captain America?!"

And so Tony's childhood hero, Captain America-- Steve-- was no more. Because really, he was sick of being compared to that man. That hero. An unobtainable goal, a constant reminder that Tony would never be good enough.

Even if he somehow became great, he would never be as great as that man.

Even when Howard died, even when every reminder should've been out of his life, Steve came back from the dead.

It was so unfair.

Tony had to partner up with that shiny-blonde-American asshole. They had to become teammates. And it was just his luck- not even unexpected, not really- that Steve hated him, too. Probably because Tony reminded him of Howard.

Wasn't that ironic?

Tony hated Steve because he reminded him of Howard. Howard and Howard's firsts cracking against his cheek. It wasn't a pleasant reminder of his past. Steve hated Tony because he reminded him of Howard. Howard and how Howard would never be anything close to his son.

(Except for the drinking problem and the looks and the family name and and and andandand)

So even when the rest of the Avengers were allowed in Tony's workshop, more or less, there was no possible way that Tony would ever trust Steve Rogers. There was just no fucking way.

//////////

Bruce had been called to Fuji for some pressing matters, or something, and Tony was bored. His science partner was gone, and really his only friend on the team. And then his second favorite person on the team, Thor, was back in New Mexico with Jane and Erik and Darcy; but that was pretty typical.

The trouble really started when Natasha and Clint were called on a 'classified' SHIELD mission (not classified, Tony had already hacked the database and found out they were going to France) therefore Steve and Tony would be alone all day.

Together.

Fuck.

Almost immediately after receiving word from JARVIS that Tasha and Clint were going, Tony decided then and there that he would just have to hide out in his workshop all day. It wasn't anything strange- he'd been locked in there for the past two days.

Well, he'd been planning on getting back upstairs to get something to eat, but with Steve up there, he would just wait another day.

It wasn't often that Tony was hungry, but he really was feeling it today.

////////

Steve honestly didn't know what to think about Tony Stark.

It was a complicated situation, really. Tony was the one reminder he still had from his past. He knew that Howard wasn't exactly parent-material and he shuddered to think of how he dealt with a child, so he felt sympathy for Tony.

Yet that man was an egoistical asshole, who was constantly insulting others, never taking things seriously, not following rules, disobeying orders, doing illegal things, and irritating the hell out of everyone on the team.

Sometimes Steve saw the facade slip.

Sometimes Steve saw Tony sitting alone in the kitchen at two in the morning, drinking only ice-cold water and looking more sad than Steve thought he'd seen anyone look. Sometimes Steve saw Tony through the glass on the workshop walls, tinkering away and muttering things to himself, and he looked tired. Bone-weary. Sometimes Steve saw Tony when someone mentioned New York, or wormholes, or Afghanistan, or any of Tony's seemingly endless triggers, and he saw the look of absolute horror that filled his eyes.

But sometimes Steve hated the man.

Like when he brought up the fact that Steve had been in the ice, or how Steve never 'knew' Howard. He hated Tony when he risked his life on missions, going directly against orders when there was a better way.

Tony Stark was actively suicidal, whether he knew it or not.

And usually Steve didn't have to deal with it alone, but when Nat, Clint, Thor, and Dr. Banner left for the day, he knew it wasn't going to be easy. And he could easily predict where Tony would be: down in his private workshop.

(He said private. Only, everyone else on the team- even Tasha- was allowed in there.)

Either way, he had no reason to go down there, so he wouldn't.

////////

Apparently Tony hadn't eaten anything for three days, then, and he hadn't slept in almost over two.

JARVIS immediately notified Steve when Tony passed out.

////////

"Captain Rogers, if you would quickly make your way down to Mr. Stark's private workshop-"

"What? Is something wrong?" Steve guessed quickly, putting down his sandwich and frowning in concern. If it wasn't a problem, then Steve had no idea why he'd be getting called to that area. Something had to be off.

JARVIS sounded anxious. "Mr. Stark has fallen unconscious and is currently on the floor of the workshop."

"I'll be there!"

////////

Tony had a problem with food and sleep, and everyone knew it. Pepper knew it, Rhodey knew it, the team knew it, everyone in SHIELD knew it... and it wasn't exactly his fault, really; he just forgot. He had more pressing matters to take care of.

He was in the middle of shaping a new bow for Hawkeye when he felt the fuzzy black coming in. Engulfing him, and then it was over.

The next thing he knew, he was getting pushed and prodded, which wasn't a nice way to wake up.

"Hgmm?" He slurred, blinking to clear the sleep out of his eyes. He hadn't remembered falling asleep. Then again, he probably collapsed from exhaustion. He had been tired lately...

"Stark!"

"Whaa?"

"Tony!"

Yep, that was definitely Roger's voice.

He blearily sat up and waved around with his hands. "Shit- we didn't- sleep together? Jesus, my head; that's one hell of a hangover." He heard Steve sigh and he managed to clear the fog from his eyes when he realized that they were in the workshop.

"Wait- fuck... what are you doing?"

He finally took in his surroundings: Steve was hovering on top of him, there was a cold, workshop floor underneath him, a faint ringing in his ears...

"You passed out, Stark. Passed out."

Steve did not sound too happy about that, either.

"Oh, uhh..." Tony rubbed the back of his head, pulling away and finding blood. Steve noticed and sighed again, grabbing Tony's head with one of his huge hands and bandaging it. "Yeah, I guess. Don't worry too much about it, cap, it happens sometimes."

That didn't seem to help.

Steve glared at him- like, really glared. "Tony, you passed out because, and I quote, you haven't slept in two days and you haven't eaten in three."

Tony blinked when Steve called him by his first name, but shrugged. "Yeah. Happens. Although JARVIS over-exaggerates things-"

"Tony!"

He stopped and actually looked at Steve. He looked worried. (About something.)

"What?"

////////

It was hard to explain to someone that forgetting to sleep and eat- to the point where they thought passing out because of it was normal- was an issue.

"What?" Tony asked incredulously.

Steve gnashed his teeth. "That isn't normal, Tony, and it shouldn't be," He said sternly. "I'm going to take you upstairs, and you are going to eat a sandwich and drink water, and you are going right to bed afterwards. You look like hell."

Tony snorted. "Hmmhm. Right. Thanks, capsicle, but I'd rather stay down here; I've got work to do."

"You made Barton a new bow last week, Stark."

"And this one is waayyy cooler!"

He huffed impatiently, and without another word of argument, picked Tony up and hauled him upstairs, ignoring every shout of protest and the drumming of hands against his back. He could almost see JARVIS' relief.

///////

All complaints were out the window once Tony had food and water in front of him. He scarfed it down like a wolf, and drained the water in seconds. It reminded Steve a bit of how he ate right after the serum, when his metabolism suddenly sped up and he was hungry all the time.

"Best," Tony said, through bites. "Fucking," Another chomp. "Sandwich."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'll make you another one, and then you are going to sleep."

They both seemed to realize it at the same moment- the way that Steve's anger was really only concern, and that Tony actually wasn't making any smart-ass or rude comments. It was almost like they were behaving as friends.

(It would take more than an unconscious body and a couple of sandwiches, though, Steve knew for certain.)

/////////

Tony, unbeknownst to most people, the media, and half the team, was not a complete bastard.

Yes, he was an asshole.

Yes, he held grudges.

Yes, he had trust issues that effected personal and impersonal relationships with almost everyone he met, worked with, or saw, and usually he ended up using comebacks and snarky sarcasm as a coping method.

But he wasn't a terrible person.

And so if Steve was going to fix up his concussion and drop everything when he heard that he was hurt, and make him two amazing sandwiches and bring him water, and then make sure he sleeps- (usually only Pepper did that) then Tony would trust him, because even if Steve hated him, and even if he hated Steve, and even if they both didn't like looking at each other because of bad memories...

Even if, when it came down to it, they would be there for each other.

That was trust.

/////////

JARVIS was pleased to announce that now all Avengers were allowed into the workshop.

Steve was a bit surprised. (A lot surprised.)

And that's how the rest of the team found them when they got home- chattering away and bickering like a married couple in Tony's workshop. It wasn't so bad.