Steve sat at the bar, furiously staking papers, his heart rate steadily rising in the quiet of the kitchen. A mere ten minutes ago he had been asleep in bed, sound asleep. Not a care in the world. But no, not now. Now he was wide awake as the sun rose lazily over the manhatten skyline, painting the sky a hazy aray of purples and pinks.
"Steve?"
He jumped at the sleepy sound of his name being called. He had been so wrapped up in the papers that he hadn't heard you walk in. He tilted his head over his shoulder to offer you a brief ,yet distracted, smile before returning his attention to the growing stack before him.
You watched him from the doorway for a moment before shrugging. After all, it wasnt abnormal for the captain to wake up before six. For you however, it was. You supposed though, that the medicine you were taking for your injuries sustained from a mission earlier in the week was the cause for your early rising.
Quietly (as not to disturb Steve) you walked to the fridge, opening it to riffle through its contents. You were only aware of the heavy intakes of breath coming from the bar when you closed the fridge. Turning you sighed, Steve was digging mercisly through the now unstaked and strewn about papers. Panting as he did so, he threw the yellow tinted pages around.
"Where the-" He was muttering incoherent curses under his breath as he searched for God knows what.
"Steve."
"I just need to-"
"Steve let me help you,"
You spoke, stepping forward. You placed a hand on one of his, flinching as he pulled away quickly.
"Just go back to sleep (l/n)."
He begged, stealing a moment to look up at you. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, the worry clear in the brilliant blue of his iris.
"I cant."
You replied quietly, taking a seat across from him, your hands resting in your lap.
"And why not?"
He replied, a slight hint of annoyance tainting his voice as he dropped his own hands to his lap. He leaned back in his seat, silently welcoming the distraction from his work.
Raising a hand, you pulled down the top of your shirt a bit, only to display the neat aray of burns, and bruises across your collar. He swallowed thickly, eyes roaming over the raw skin.
"Shouldnt that be bandaged?"
He muttered , standing to once more pick up the papers all over the floor.
"Nope. Big Green said that would cause the wounds to fester and hurt worse. So thats why I'm up. Because my pain medicationhas worn off, and I cant safely take it for another six hours. So tell me Steve, why are YOU up?"
He was dumbfounded, staring at you as you spoke. Six thirty in the morning and you already seemed through with his bs excuses to get away from you. Had he always been so annoyed by your presence?
"Work."
He replied matter-of-factly, grabbing the neat stacks and placing them in their respective folders.
"Not a good enough reason to be up at six in the morning. Especially less than ten hours after one of the worst , in terms of exauhsting, missions of this team's career. So Im going to ask again Cap. Why are you really up?"
"Why are you interogating me?"
He snapped, eyes glued to his hands. Though you had all the right to care about your team mate, the Captain felt attacked, cornered. You had been his partner for a year, and yet you knew nothing about him. Rolling his eyes he simply grabbed the stack of folders, and left the room. Leaving you to wonder why in the hell he was so upset.
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"It seems to me that you may have crossed a personal line there (y/n)."
Clint muttered, thinking deeply as you furiously cleaned a gun.
"Well I sure as fuck didnt mean to. I mean, I'm just worried about him yah know?"
"O?"
Clint joked suggestivly. Your furious glare cutting him off quickly.
"Thats not the first time I have caught him up so early. It's happened multiple times before. I wake up to get water or something, and he's up. Clearly has been for hours. Fumbling with those damn papers."
"(y/n), look. I think you're over reacting here. It's perfectly normal from someone of his time to wake up so early. Especially since he was in the army. The papers are probably just mission reports he wants turned in. Okay? Stop worrying about him. Worry when he starts fucking up on the field. Which we know damn well that captain tight pants wont."
"I hate you sometimes Barton."
You sighed, placing the now clean gun on the table.
"You only hate me cause I'm right sweet cheeks."
He smiled, playfully punching your arm as you turned to leave.
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"ow...."
"Sorry.."
"OW! What the fuck are you doing Bruce?"
Tony growled, clearly annoyed at the time it was taking for this to be over with. He was tired of the infirmary, tired of watching Steve read through some medical reports, tired of the time it was taking as Bruce sewed his skin back together.
"Trying to help you, now calm the hell down. Jesus Tony."
"Tell me again. How did this happen?"
"I told you! I was sparing with (y/n) and she kinda broke down. Had a full on panic attack right there on the floor. I went to help her and she clawed the shit out of my face."
Now Steve was intrigued, He hadnt talked to (y/n) since their little meeting this morning. Which he realized he could have ended easily by just telling her he had insomnia. It wasnt some big secret he needed hidden. He was just agitated and tired.
"I'll go talk to her. For now just stay out of her way, okay?"
Steve mumered, looking at Tony briefly before exiting the infirmary.
"aye aye capt- OW."
Not five minutes later were you opening your door for Steve.
"You attacked Tony?"
He asked, stepping into your room quickly. You sighed, shutting the door you leaned against it sleepily.
"Technicaly it was a spar. Gone wrong?"
"Why did you scratch him?"
"I freaked, okay? Why would you care? Why should I tell you this?"
"Because this team has no secrets (l/n). Spill. What happened?"
"Not until you tell me what the fuck happened with you this morning.If we have no secrets, then spill."
Steve groaned and watched you carefully.
"I have insomnia. Besides, I slept for 70 years. Why the hell wouldnt I be awake ate five int he morning?"
He had a very valuble reason.
"I have anxiety."
You shrugged. Sitting down on your bed as he though over your answer.
"Sometimes I flip out, and get scared. Shit happens, we move on."
"Shit happening is you causing Tony to get ten stitches in his face?" Steve countered, staring at you wide eyed.
You had begun to get agitated.
"Look Mr. Tight Pants. I dont know what you THINK you signed up for, but Ton is an avenger. If he is gonna bitch about a girl giving him a boo boo during training then he can leave."
He stared at you for a moment and scoffed, turning away from you briefly.
"Tony is your friend, (y/n)."
"Tony is a team member before he is anything else. Now leave."
