Can We Be Fixed? (Stony)

Chapter Five: Progress

A/N: So yesterday I took an exam, and I just so happened to have aced it after copious amounts of studying. SO, in regards to that I am in a very happy mood. So happy that I might just grace you with chapter six today AND MAYBE (depending on how I feel), chapter seven as well. Don't hold me to that, but I will TRY to get you chapter six today as well if I can. Now enjoy.

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Just like before, he sits in his lab once more, staring at the screen in front of him that shows the soldier in his room. His heart lurches as he watches the soldier break down on the screen, guilt coursing through his entire being, staining his blood, curling around the bones in his body in a vice like grip, not willing to let go. Just why did he say that word? He knows how much Steve hates that nickname because it reminds him of everything he has lost from his previous life, and he just had to call him Capsicle.

God he feels like shit, a complete and utter asshole. He knows all he has to do is just simply go in there and apologize, make things right, but he didn't move a muscle. He just sat there, watching the soldier break down, painful sobs and gasps for air filled his room, the sounds so loud in his ears that it made him start to tear up.

His own tears started to spill from his tear ducts, staining his cheeks with ghostly tears as he could practically feel how hurt, how damaged Steve was. He wiped away the tears as quickly as they came, hating himself just a little for how he reacted. But he couldn't deny that he did feel terrible for having caused the blonde to act like this. If he could just will his body to get out of the chair, have his feet carry him towards the hallway where his room was, he could at least make the situation better.

But he's too stubborn for his own good, so he just continued to sit there, staring and not even bothering to make an attempt at reconciling the problem he caused. He's too hurt to even think about consoling the man he still has a beating heart for, because he's too focused on how hurt he was by his actions.

He stepped away from the screen, eyes darting around his workshop for anything to distract him from what was happening just a few yards away from his location. But there was nothing in his lab for him to do, and that was actually a first. He had no more gear- or rather had no gear to upgrade or tamper with since all his teammates were gone, and even if Rhodey visited from time to time, he was still out of commission due to him being unable to properly walk. He actually hasn't seen Rhodey in awhile; and maybe it's for the best that his best friend hasn't been around because, well, he isn't exactly the most emotionally stable person right now, not to mention that he also is harboring a fugitive.

The way there was nothing for him to do in his lab, nothing for him to tinker, meddle, invent, literally nothing for him to get his hands on unnerved him. He felt naked for a few minutes, lost on who he was. He was Tony Stark; genius, billionaire, ex-playboy, philanthropist, he always had something on his mind- whether it was a new invention for Stark Industries, or the team, or his neurons firing rapidly inside his brain and giving him thousands of things to think in one sitting, his brain always had an idea of what his hands should be occupied with. But for now it was just blank. Empty, fogged, clouded, shrouded, any word you could think of describes Tony's head right now- well, that was almost accurate. His mind wasn't fully blank, as it was still thinking about the soldier.

He sighed to himself, running a hand down his face, biting his lip just shortly after returning the appendage back in its place at the side of his body. Regardless of his own stubbornness, or wanting to stay as far away from the blonde as possible, he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight knowing that he had caused the other male tremendous amounts of emotional, and psychological pain.

He decided to do something he hoped he wouldn't regret, and hoping that it would put the soldiers mind at ease. He exited his lab, feet traversing the cold, shiny metal titles that shone just a tad bit brighter thanks to the moonlight beams littering through the window. Soon the silver tiles turned more wooden, brown in color with a sort of caramel coating. The debriefing room came into view, with all its vast furniture and big black oval shaped table reserved for debriefings, as well as the kitchen that connected to it. He made his way towards the back of the room where the Avengers living quarters were stationed. He made his way past Natasha's room, taking a shaky breath as his hand curled around a circular doorknob.