Marvel One-Shots! <3

So Maybe I'm Not Okay

Original Imagine: Sequel to What The Hell, I'm In Hell.

Author: contrygal7

Word Count: 965

Warnings: Stevie is mad. Tony is mad. Peter's almost dead. Goddamn. Angst? Not to bad tho.

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I watched as Tony Stark's soul shattered in front of me. My feet wouldn't move. My lungs had seized inside this impossible moment.

I'd never seen Tony like this. I'm not sure I'd ever felt like this.

My hands longing to sooth the ache of Tony's agony, to caress the Narcissus in him till it stood proud and tall once more.

Nostalgic for the nonchalant and outspoken Tony I knew.

For my Tony.

I mean Tony had fucked up before, hell, Tony was the king of fucking shit up.

But this was different.

The sorrow in Tony's eyes hurt me. I felt it all, each quiver of his breath, each shake in his hands. The scathing regret that had taken hold in him. I felt it all. And I felt it all from across the room.

The abrupt contact scared me. Suddenly I was standing behind him. Holding him. Like I'd dreamed of holding him so many times in the last 6 months. I couldn't take it anymore.

The forcefulness of our connection, the tribulation of our separation, but what I couldn't stand was the compulsion or ache of being with him. I burrowed myself in the scent of his neck. Feeling the closeness that we both needed so much.

My voice was wretched as I mumbled into his ear "You didn't kill him Tony." My right hand fisted in his vest of his wrinkled suit, pulling him back hard against my chest. "He's a strong young man," Steve's eyes blinked trying to keep the tears out of his eyes "So full of himself, wanting to prove his worth. . . . Just like his father."

Tony's chest shuttered with a demanding sob, as the ache in my chest grew. The anguish bit into my soul. The misery chafing my every word "I should have been there. For both of you. He could die Tony. He could die without knowing how much I loved him."

Tony senses my change in mood instantly, looking back at me, noting the thirst for revenge set deep in my throat. He tries to persuade me out of my thoughts "He knew Steve. He knows. He loves both of us. And we love him."

I feel the need for my presence burn deep into my skin as he turns in my embrace. His hands on my face trying to compel me to stay. But my mind is in distress.

The sting of aggression sets deep in my soul. Willing my body forward, towards the door. I stop at Tony's fierce inhale, my hand tight against the steel door jam. When I look back Tony's eyes are as dark as mine. We're on the same page. Maybe.

I can feel the excitement thick in the air as he prowls toward me. His eyes are drenched in agony. The deep spirals of melted brown craving gratification, drowning in thoughts of punishment and conflict. I melt against his fiery anguish and soft touch.

As he reaches me his voice remains adamant "Steve. What about Peter?" My shoulders fall, Tony looks pleased with the result. I glance down at Peter's slender body in the bed as I make my way around the confining hospital bed, Tony in tow. I shake my head before sitting in the chair beside the bed.

My voice is restrained, my eyes swimming in a sea of sorrow as I mutter "I wasn't there." Tony's hand gently rests on my shoulder, he objects effectively "If we wouldn't have been fighting, you would have been."

I place my hand gently on top of Tony's. Craving the contact. I reach out and take my sons hand in mine. I promise him that I will be back. And I swear to him that I love him, more than I could ever say.

I rise to my feet, looking down into Tony's eyes "I need you us on the same page Tony. I need you here with Peter."

Tony's voice is immediate "Uh, I don't think so. You don't get to run off half cocked and try to get yourself killed. That's my job."

I reach up his seemingly permanent stubble on his chin heating against the back of my hand and smile at his impatient huff, my skin brushing against his, willing him to understand "This is about Peter. He touched my boy, Tony. I can't let that slide."

I caress my forehead against his, treasuring the contact knowing it might be my last with him. My hands ravenous against his short jet black hair, moving against the desperate yearning inside me to stay in his embrace forever.

When I look back into his eyes, my own are misty "I don't know who's going to get out of this one baby." My words cut deep into him, his body moves away slightly, his eyes bore into mine. "No. You don't get to do this. We're not doing this."

Tony's eyes drop down in front of us, then glance back at Peter. The hurt clear and present in his milk chocolate eyes, "We are going to go. As a team. That's how we defeat him. Together. But we need our boy Steve. We can't do this alone. You don't have to do this alone."

The forcefulness of my voice boomed against the emptiness of the room "This fucker is going to die for this Tony." Tony's eyebrow arched above his widened eyes "Steve. I've never seen you like this."

My words reflected the malice in my chest "No ones had the balls to touch my goddamned kid before."