Cat Got Your Tongue?

Chapter 11

When we got back to the tower, the whole thing was destroyed. Barely anything could be salvaged. So Tony decided that after we sort everything out with Fury and Loki, we go back to Miami. He said we could have a party and celebrate the Avenger's victory, but I had to help the city first.

The first week or two, I was constantly doing press conferences and interviews trying to apologise for the destruction we caused but they just kept calling us heros. I told them as much as I could, regarding the fight and who it was. I told them about the army and Loki and how much grief he caused us all, but I also said I would do as much as I could to help people. I told them that Tony would donate money to help clean up New York, which he wasn't to pleased about.

Now, two weeks later, here we all are, in Tony's beach house in the Bahamas, drinking the night away and partying like no other. We were in swim suits on the beach out the back of the house. Tony handed me a pinacolada and I took a sip. My face scrunched up at the taste and I had to refrain from spitting it out.

"Tony!" I yelled after swallowing. He burst into a fit of giggles and I pushed him off his sun lounger. 

"You f-face!" He said laughing, to which Steve and Bruce joined in on.

"What's in it?" I asked, holding it at arms length like it was gonna bite my face.

"Salt water." He said after sobering up. My jaw dropped and I almost gagged.

"If I get sick I'm gonna kill you." I said seriously. He continued to laugh, until I poured it over his head.

"Cheshire!!" He screamed, his laughter halting.

*THIRD PERSON PERSPECTIVE* 

Cheshire had to stop herself from falling off of her lounger she was laughing so hard. Tony's upper body was soaked with sticky salty liquid that dripped down his torso.

"That's it." Tony declared, getting up and grabbing the cat. He walked down to the shore and ploged into the water until it was up to his waist. At first, Cheshire was wriggling and squirming to get out of his grasp, but when he got over water, she was clinging to him like her life depended on it. 

"How long do you think it'll take?" Bruce asked the guys, who were watching as Tony almost drowned Cheshire.

"A week." Natasha said.

"Nah, I think two." Clint stated.

"I have no idea." Steve said chucking as Cheshire pulled Tony in head first.

The two continued to fight in the water for about half an hour as the others watched the sun set behind them. In the end, Tony decided he wasn't drunk enough yet so he went out of the water. Cheshire sat on the end on the pier with her legs hanging off the side. The burn on her back was still visible and bullet hole in her leg was scarring, but the rest of her injures had cleared up nicely. She wore a yellow bikini and had her hair in French braids. Tony sat down next to her, handing her a bottle of pink gin and she drank it, lucking it wasn't poison.

The two sat nicely in each other's company for a few moments just watching the waves roll in. Tony was wearing navy blue shorts that were half dry and half wet just like she was. His hair was dripping wet and his face had a little extra stubble from not shaving.

"What happens next?" Tony said, breaking her train of thought.

"What do you mean?" She asked looking at his sincere expression.

"Where do we go from now?" He asks.

"Where do you want to go?" She counters.

"I don't care as long as I'm with you." He said sweetly and Cheshire almost melted at his words. 

One thing Cheshire had noticed though, was that Tony was now overly cautious. He was weary when the door bell rang, or someone didn't lock the back door before going to bed. He was jumpy and constantly on the watch for threats. He also keeps getting up in the middle of the night and having a shower. Last week, he left in the middle of a press conference because they were talking about his experience in New York. Cheshire hadn't been doing so good either. The voice in her head was still there. Watching her every move. Critising the things she said. It always managed to happen at the wrong times too, like in the middle of an interview, or live TV. She thought about going to a psychiatrist but she would need to tell Tony first.

"I've been having panic attacks." He said just above a whisper. She looked at him but he wouldn't meet her eye. "It's not too bad, just once or twice through the week, usually during the night."

"Is that why you keep getting up?" She asked and he nodded.

"I guess it's fear. I'm scarred, no terrified of losing the people I love." He said looking into Cheshires eyes. "I don't wanna lose you." He finished.

"Your not going to loose me." She said without missing a beat. She placed a hand over his on top of the bottle he was holding. "You don't need to be worried because I will always be here."

"But what if something happens? What if I can't be there to protect you?" Cheshire was shocked at how sentimental Tony was being.

"Your referring to your own death yet your still worried about me?" She said chuckling. Suddenly Tony looked really cute. Like, really cute. Like, damn.

"Yes I'm worried about you. What if something happens to me, and I'm not there for you and you get hurt. How would I ever forgive myself?" He looked for an answer but she didn't have one.

"You wouldn't have to forgive yourself because it wouldn't be your fault. Tony, I don't wanna lose you either but you need to stop worrying and start living again. I'll help you get over this anxiety and we can go chill for a few months somewhere, ok? I'll take some more time off work and we can just fall of the face of the Earth. Not show up for a while."

"Ok." He said chugging his vodka and coke.

Running away from our problems are we? Tony thinks your pathetic.

"Shut up." She mumbled with out realising.

"What?" Tony asked.

"Hu?" She said confused.

"You just told me to shut up." He smiled at the stupidity of the situation.

"Oh, I wasn't talking to you, I was.." She trailed off, not knowing how to phrase.

"What?" He pushed.

"There's this voice." She said and he looked at her like she had two heads. "In my head." She finished, unsure.

"What do you mean?" He asked, genuinely worried.

"He keeps talking to me." 

You shouldn't have told him about me.

"Who keeps talking to you?" Tony pried.

"I don't know his name." 

That's because I don't have one.

"What does he say?"

Don't answer that.

"The first thing he ever said to me was that it was my fault when I thought you were dead." She managed to spit out, with an intense hatred.

"Is he mean?" Tony studied my side profile.

No.

"Horrible."

"Is he saying anything right now?" He asked and she paused.

"Do you think I'm pathetic?" She asked him instead.

Course he does.

"Not a chance honey." He answered and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Will you take me to a psychiatrist?" She said.

"Whatever you want." Cheshire looked behind her to fine the beach where they had once sat on, now completely empty.

"They must have gone inside." She commented. Tony looked back to see what she was looking at. 

"C'mon, let's go back."