Marvel Imagines

Tony Stark - I Wanna Get Better

Warnings: mentions of severe anxiety

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There he was again: Tony Stark. His perfect beard and kind eyes. He's truly infuriating. 

No, he wouldn't remember my name. He wouldn't remember that I helped save his life. I was just another one of the party goers. It didn't matter what I did for him in the past. My mind was changed when he approached me. 

He was drunk. He probably saw a pretty face and wanted its attention. 

"(Y/N)!" He yelled. "It's been a long time." He smiled a great, big, white smile. "When was the last time we talked?"

"I'm pretty sure I was making sure you were mentally sound. Tony, when was the last time you talked to a psychiatrist?"

"Oh, that doesn't matter." He pulled me to the bar.

"Tony." I demanded. "Look at me." He turned to face me and locked our eyes together. "You will always matter. Your health matters. What time did you get to sleep last night?"

"I don't sleep. It ruins my productivity." He took another swig of whisky.

"Anthony Stark, I am not allowing you to do this to yourself. After this party is over, I'm staying to make sure you take care of yourself."

"Don't do that, (Y/N). You already helped me all those years ago, I don't need you anymore."

I don't know why that hurt as much as it did, but I took it worse than was expected.

"Fine," I grabbed a napkin, scribbling down my phone number. "If you ever, ever, need me: Call. The only time I won't answer is if I'm dead or dying. Believe that." I then made my way out of the large building of my friend. I hailed a taxi, and went to bed as soon as I got home. 

The next morning, at three o'clock, I got a call. 

"I'm sorry," Tony said over the line.

"Tony what's wrong?"

"I-I need - I need help. Please (Y/N), I wanna get better, I do, but I-I need help."

"It's okay Tony, where are you? I'm gonna come pick you up. Tell me where you are."

"I don't know. I'm on an overpass."

"Are you in your suit?" I was panicking. 

"Yeah, yeah I am. Can you- can you find me? Please, I need you. I need-" He devolved into wheezes and heavy breathing.

"Tony I'm gonna need you to talk to me, okay?"

"Okay. Okay." He kept muttering under his breath.

"I need you to get somewhere I can find you okay?" I jumped on my bike and took off down the street. I didn't have time for a helmet, so whatever hair was left out whipped around my head. The humming of the engine was drowned out by my racing thoughts.

"I'm in Central Park." Tony's voice rang through my phone. "Where are you, (Y/N)?"

"Don't worry, I'm almost there. Hold on just a little longer. I'm almost there, Tony. Just close your eyes. Take deep breaths. In and out. Just like we used to. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." His voice was leveling and his breathing was becoming more clear.

Not five minutes later I found him sitting on a bench with his head in his hands.

"Tony," I called out as I ran to him. His head flung toward me and tears started to fall down his face. My thumbs wiped them off his cheeks. I looked into his dark eyes and offered a calm smile. "You're gonna be okay now." I hugged him, which was awkward because of his suit. "Let's get you home now."

"(Y/N)."

"What is it?"

"We can't both get back on your motorcycle."

"Forget the bike, we're gonna take a cab."