More Than Just Little Soldiers (PART 2)

CHAPTER 6: THE TALES YOU NEVER TOLD

Tony Stark POV

I knew Steve kept on disappearing for a few hours a day, a couple of days a week. I knew about all of that, I just never did anything about it because, well, I just didn't care enough. Hours seem like minutes and just fly by whenever I'm in my lab, constantly working on a new suit and a new improvement.

Something that can save someone's life.

I hardly eat and I barely sleep. I can't stand to close my eyes, knowing that there are vivid pictures of memories I want to forget the second I let myself be vulnerable.

So when Steve's constant disappearance, not to mention his ridiculous smile whenever he comes back, became a nuisance, I poured myself another glass of whiskey and did what I knew best: stalked him online.

Some may call that an infringement on personal privacy, but I call it an unauthorized representation of my capabilities.

"Jarvis, pull up the recent CCTV footage of our very own Capsicle," I shouted out to the ceiling.

"Yes sir," the voice returned, and suddenly my screens were filled with any recent videos cameras caught of Steve. I traced him on the days that I knew he left and I found him consistently going into the same restaurant.

And then the line would go dead.

I couldn't trace him once he entered. I would see him walk in and it was suddenly like I couldn't access or see anything after that. The windows had a weird glint or there was shade or there was some big, fat man that was covering my view. Whatever it was, there was something preventing me from seeing what Steve was doing in that restaurant.

I started to panic. What was Steve doing there? No, Steve was one of the good guys! He helped destroy Hydra for god sakes! He's the least out of us all that would be plotting against us.

Call me old fashioned, but I don't trust anyone without a dark side.

What was going on?

I probably was being ridiculous, but at that moment I couldn't even get myself to think of anything else. My breathing hitched as my eyes hyper focused on every measly detail. I saw everything while I was seeing nothing at all.

"Tony," a voice called out for me near the doorway. It sounded calm yet sad, but I ignored it. "Tony!"

The same voice called for me again, but this time louder and more prominent. I jerked my head up to see Steve himself standing right there. Once he got my attention, I saw his eyes drifting towards all the computers I had opened. He looked angry at first, for my spying, but then calmed down looking at the state of me.

"What's going on Tony?" Steve asked me, taking a seat on the spare wheely chair. "What are you looking for?"

"You keep on going away for a few hours multiple times a week! You never tell us where you're going! What are you doing, huh?"

"Is that what this is about?"

"Yes! We're your team! We deserve to know!"

"Tony, do you even hear yourself? You sound so paranoid. I knew we were all a bit messed up after the battle bu—"

"Don't talk about that," I cut through, sharply. Steve just nodded.

"I go to meet two of my friends. I met them one day when I went out for a run. They were in the military like me. After that initial talk, we started meeting up so that we could talk about our time in the military and just, I don't know, have like a mini therapy session I guess."

I paused for a moment. His answer seemed very plausible and I don't think he would lie about something like this.

"Why don't you go to your actual therapist?" I said accusingly, the words slipping right out of my mouth. Steve just sighed.

"Come on Tony, I don't have a therapist. These people are the best I've got. And it's really been helping."

"What do you mean you don't have a therapist?" I asked him. All SHIELD workers are entitled to one, with all the crap they have to face.

"Huh? I just don't have one. I've never looked for one anyway, they're awfully expensive."

"You mean Fury didn't set you up with one once you joined up?"

"No? What does Fury have to do with anything?"

"Damn it Steve, All SHIELD members are required to have a therapist. You've just been dealing with all of this on your own?"

"Don't act like you aren't the same way Tony. You hardly ever leave this lab. You aren't getting help either."

"Don't turn this back into me," I snapped.

"You love it when the cameras are on you," came his snarky reply. I just sighed. That was true.

"I could, uh, I could help you find one," I said to him, after a period of silence, with a small voice. "I'm sorry for stalking you. I got nervous."

"Thank you Tony, and that's okay. Just talk to me next time. But you really need to get help too, you understand? You're drowning yourself in work and alcohol."

"It's fine, I'm fine," I insisted. I hurt so many people. Families are broken. It was all my fault.

"Sure you are," Steve just said. He reached over and grabbed my bottle of whiskey. "Then I assume you won't be needing this?"

I didn't say anything. If I told him to go, I'd be betraying the heavy feeling I have floating over my chest. If I told him to leave the bottle, I'd just be accepting his claim.

But I was fine.

"You can go," I croaked. Steve just looked at me, with a sad expression on his face, and just nodded before leaving. "Wait, also, Steve, I think I can help find a therapist for your friends as well. Talk to them about it."

"Thanks Tony," he said sincerely. "But don't forget about yourself."

That's the easiest thing to do, though. And I'm all about taking the easy route out.