Chapter Text
Tony flinched as Pepper screamed at him, picking up a vase and tossing it in his direction. He ducked and it shattered against the newly remodeled wall behind him.
“Sir?” JARVIS enquired calmly.
Pepper’s face screwed up in a horrid snarl and she turned away, storming into the bedroom. Tony sighed. “Yes, JARVIS?” He asked quietly.
“You have a guest in the lobby requesting access,” the AI replied smoothly.
“Not a good time,” he returned, frowning. Pepper had demolished almost all of their breakables, it wasn’t an ideal setting for company.
“I realise that, sir,” JARVIS replied. “However he is Classification A.”
Tony sighed in frustration, tapping his fingers against the reactor. “Has he called an over-ride code?”
“I don’t think he knows any,” the AI answered cryptically.
Tony sighed. That had to be the Captain. Bruce had security clearance to everywhere but Tony’s private workshop and knew more over-rides than Pepper did. (Just one of the many things she’d been screaming about earlier.) As far as he knew Clint and Natasha were still in Buenos Aires, but they’d ninja up his balcony before asking permission to enter anyway. Thor was still up Mt Olympus or whatever, showed no signs of returning.
“Yes,” Tony said, remembering his lack of answer. “Let him in wherever.”
“Of course, sir,” JARVIS said, then probably went to do so.
Pepper reappeared then, lugging a hastily packed suitcase behind her. “I’ll be at a hotel,” she snarled. “I’m taking Happy and the car.”
“Send him back when you’re there,” Tony requested wearily.
“No, Tony,” she hissed. “I meant I’m taking them.”
The brunet scowled at her. “I don’t remember signing that prenup,” he parried.
“They both belong to the company, Tony. Which if you can remember through your ego, you signed over to me.” She stormed over to the elevator just as it pinged softly and the doors opened.
Steven Rogers stood inside, looking startled at seeing Pepper so close to his exit. Her nostrils flared upon spotting him and she looked between two men. “Of course,” she hissed angrily. “You have time to be Ironman, but you have no time for me.”
“Tony?” Steve asked, confused.
“Come in and sit down, Cap,” Tony said tiredly. “I’ll be with you soon.”
The blond did, giving Pepper a terrified look as he moved past and went to sit on the one couch not tipped over and littered in debris.
“You don’t even know, do you Tony?” She shrieked, outraged. “I’m the lowest priority in your life! I’m only twelve damn percent of it!”
Tony winced. “Knew that would come back to haunt me,” he mumbled unhappily. He ducked, a crystal vase flying over his head and shattering over the mantelpiece. “Is destroying all our things really making you feel better, Pepper?”
“Our things?” She screeched. She turned and jabbed the button for the elevator, then whirled back on him. “No, Tony. Everything is yours. Maybe when you have room to fit me into your life, you can call me again!”
She stormed into the open lift and glared at him hatefully until the doors closed.
Tony sighed and tapped at the reactor until his thoughts stopped swirling. Abruptly remembering his guest, he turned slowly, speaking: “Sorry, Cap. Did JARVIS warn you that...”
He trailed off when he actually found the supersoldier. He was crouched on the floor beside the couch, hands clamped viciously over his ears, rocking back and forth on his feet.
“Cap?” He asked hesitantly, stepping over a broken statuette to reach the man. The rocking didn’t stop, and he knelt in a thankfully shard-free patch of ground. “Steve?” He asked hesitantly.
The blond head shot up then, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. He scrambled backwards, hands yanking the bulky backpack at his side and holding up the shield in front of him.
Tony held up his hands to show his unarmed status, sitting back on his heels. They stared at each other for a few long moments, until Tony recognised the fact that the broad chest wasn’t rising and falling with normal breathing patterns. It was barely moving at all.
“Steve? It’s me, Tony. Ironman, remember?” He prompted.
Steve made an acknowledging whimper, but he didn’t lower the shield.
“You’re in my apartment,” Tony continued. “You’re having a panic attack. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Panic attack?” Steve asked hesitantly, confusion ghosting over the fear in his eyes.
“Did they have those in the forties?” Tony asked cryptically. “You know. When soldiers came home from the first war and they’d be haunted by the war? They’d have panic attacks.”
“Like...night terrors?” Steve asked, frowning in confusion.
“Not really. You’re awake right now, Steve,” Tony told him gingerly. “Now you’re scared. I need you to come away from the mess Pepper left and come with me into a quiet, clean room, okay?”
Steve hesitantly got to his feet at the same time the inventor did, still keeping the shield held between them. Tony backed towards the guest bedroom/office next to his own and Steve followed, equally hesitant. Once they were inside, Steve slammed the door closed and backed into the corner, putting the shield between himself and the rest of the room.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking about, Steve?” Tony suggested gently, making sure he made no sudden movements as he crossed to the bed and sat down.
“We’re under attack,” Steve told him, clearly bewildered at the implication Tony didn’t know. “Why aren’t you going to get your suit?”
Tony shook his head carefully. “We’re not under attack, Steve,” he said gently. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“We’re under attack!” Steve shouted hysterically. “There was an explosion, and glass breaking!”
“That was Pepper,” Tony corrected softly. “She threw a vase and it broke. That was the noise.”
“Gunshots!” the supersoldier shouted, raising the shield another few inches to cover himself. “There was gunshots.”
Tony frowned. There hadn’t been any gunshots. Maybe Steve was drawing on a past event Pepper had triggered? “Where, Steve?” He asked.
“Where?” Steve repeated, agitated.
“Where were the gunshots, Steve?” Tony clarified.
“Stop saying my name!” Steve shouted, glaring at him.
“Okay,” Tony agreed. “Just tell me where the gunshots came from.”
“Hydra!” Steve gasped, standing up and doing his best to back further into the wall. “Hydra is coming and they’re shooting and we need to get and we need to stop—”
“Steve!” Tony interrupted loudly, stepping closer. The supersoldier shot him a terrified look, then seemed to calm upon seeing him. “Where were you when you heard the gunshots, Steve?”
“In...” The blond broke off, frowning as he thought about it. “I was in my apartment.”
Tony resisted the urge to scoff. “Steve, you live in New York—Brooklyn, no less. It wasn’t Hydra. They’ve been disbanded for nearly seventy years. That was just a regular crime, okay? Try and breathe for me—did any of the doctors at shield talk to you about PTSD and panic attacks?”
“No,” Steve answered quickly. Then he shook his head and crossed to sit on a nearby chaise. “Yes. I think so. I have to calm down, right?”
“If you can,” Tony agreed gently. “Do you remember coming here?”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed, lifting his free hand and massaging the top of his eye sockets. “I...I heard the gunshots and I wanted to get out. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“You’re always welcome here, Cap,” Tony said, his own adrenaline fading as it became clear the panic attack was passing. “In fact...maybe you should stay here for a bit? If this is going to happen again, you really shouldn’t be staying in your apartment by yourself.”
Steve shook his head. “I couldn’t,” he said.
“Sure you could,” Tony said quickly, sitting back down on the bed. “If you don’t want to stay up here, there are a few bedrooms in the same hall as Bruce.”
“Tony,” the blond said carefully.
“It’s fine,” Tony said quickly. “I’ll send a courier down to get you some clothes. Actually, maybe I’ll just buy you some new ones. I’m sure you don’t have any of them worth keeping...”
“Tony,” Steve interrupted harshly. The brunet blinked and refocussed his attention. “I, uh, I packed a bag. It’s downstairs in the lobby. The receptionist wouldn’t let me bring it up in case I had a concealed weapon.”
Tony snorted at that. “You could kill me with your bare hands if you really wanted to.”
“I don’t,” Steve said quietly, dropping his gaze. “I don’t want to.”
“Yeah, okay,” Tony agreed. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour of the other private floors while I get housekeeping in to tidy up Pepper’s mess.”
“Will she be angry when she gets back?” Steve asked hesitantly. “If she knows you’ve asked me to stay.”
“Pepper’s not coming back.” Tony was a little surprised at himself at the tone of his words. He should be bitter and raging, but he just sounded tired and resigned. Then again, their fight had been going on for weeks now. “Come on. I’m sure Bruce would be glad to see you again...”