Second Chances

Twenty-three

"Shit!" Tony hissed, grabbing his chest.

He took several deep breaths, a string of curses leaving his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut. He took another deep breath, resisting the urge to slam his fist against the bottom of the 1932 Ford Flathead Roaster. He took another deep breath, trying to release the tension in his chest. 

"JARVIS," Tony winced.

"My readings tell me that you have chest pain from the collision with the top of the car," JARVIS answered, and Tony took another deep breath when the pain became bearable.

"Did I hurt anything?" Tony asked, lifting his shirt off his head to look down at the arc reactor.

The swelling still hadn't gone down since Afganistan, and his scars were still an angry, red colour. Tony rubbed his knuckles above the reactor to release more tension. However, the movement just sent another spark of pain, and Tony cursed. He softly pressed his fingers against his pecs trying to relieve pain there, and he sighed.

"Remind me why Yinsen decided to save me?" Tony mumbled into his empty lab as he got up and sat in a nearby chair.

"Sir, your pain medication is located in the second drawer to your left," JARVIS said, and Tony took another deep breath, grabbing the little orange bottle and pouring two pills into his hand.

"Has Steve gotten back to me?" Tony asked, swallowing the pills harshly.

"I believe not, sir. Would you like to try calling?" JARVIS wondered, and Tony shook his head.

"No, he's probably busy at the station or somethin'." Tony looked around his lab trying to find something to do, and he rubbed his left eye.

"What time is it, JARVIS?" Tony yawned.

"It is 0300 hours," JARVIS answered, and Tony grumbled.

"Let's go over the stuff Pepper sent me." Tony pushed his hand through his hair.

Sleep insomnia was an asshole. Tony had had nightmares since Afganistan, and they weren't getting easier. Pepper had suggested therapy and set up several appointments. Tony tried to go to the first few sessions, but something always came up. Plus, Tony would rather die than someone tell him he had almost all the symptoms of PTSD. Staying awake until Tony passed out on the first flat surface was a lot easier than trying to sleep and getting stuck in a nightmare or just staring at his bedroom's ceiling. It was, surprisingly, easier when Steve was there, but ever since their little road trip, Steve had been MIA. But that was okay. Steve was a firefighter, he had a busy life. If he didn't get back to a text, then that was okay for him. It wasn't like Steve was obligated to answer Tony's texts. 

Tony stayed quiet for a moment, digging his fingernail into the steel countertop. He took another deep breath, rubbing at his chest, and he reached forward to grab his phone. 

He looked down at the text messaging app before he let out a deep breath and placed the phone back on the countertop.

"Why did my lungs have to go to shit with the reactor. I could really use a blunt right about now." Tony mumbled, pushing his hands over his face. "JARVIS?" 

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you think I pushed Steve too far by asking him to go on a road trip with me?"

"According to Benjamin Ritter, 'A vacation is a great opportunity to strengthen a relationship but it can also test it'," JARVIS answered, and Tony sighed.

"Did I scare Steve away?" Tony mumbled.

"Sir, if I may be so bold, I would suggest talking to Captain Rogers in person."