[ Steve watches the way Tony processes everything by looking at his eyes. Those big, brown, beautiful eyes that are looking at Steve like he loves and hates him more than anything else in the world right now. He watches the way Tony says nothing, but clearly has something to say, until finally, it all comes out.
Steve doesn't say anything for a long time.
Normally, he's uninhibited, saying whatever comes to mind first because he can always trust his gut to do what's right. But right now, he stops himself from answering any of Tony's questions literally. He wants to make sure what he says answers how much he's hurt Tony for these past two years, and it helps, just a little, that he had all night to imagine what this conversation might be like when Tony woke up.
In the end, the silence itself lasts less than 30 seconds, but it still feels like an eternity. When Steve talks, there's the sound of deep and terrible guilt in the back of his voice, even if he's doing a pretty good job trying to make sure it doesn't take over. ]
Tony. I'm so sorry I wasn't there.
I wasn't there when you and Peter both needed me. I should've been.
[ It doesn't matter to Steve anymore what he had been doing, because this kind of thing isn't rational. When Tony and Peter were up in space, Steve and the rest of the Avengers had been protecting Vision. Fighting Thano's army. It's important — world-endingly so. But even now, Steve has imagined hundreds of scenarios where he should've found a way, even if some of them are literally impossible. He should've split himself in two if he needed to — he should've been there for his family. ]
I'm not asking for forgiveness. No amount of it could bring Pete back. I know that. I just—
You're right Tony. I left. I broke our vows. But I can't— [ The word can't comes out scratchy, like a whisper, and Steve finds himself closing his now unoccupied hand into a fist as he pushes the emotion in his throat back down. ] I can't lose you too Tony. I can't not be there again.
[ Given the gravity with which Steve's speaking now, there's a sense that he isn't talking about their relationship. He's talking about Tony's life. ]
no subject
Steve doesn't say anything for a long time.
Normally, he's uninhibited, saying whatever comes to mind first because he can always trust his gut to do what's right. But right now, he stops himself from answering any of Tony's questions literally. He wants to make sure what he says answers how much he's hurt Tony for these past two years, and it helps, just a little, that he had all night to imagine what this conversation might be like when Tony woke up.
In the end, the silence itself lasts less than 30 seconds, but it still feels like an eternity. When Steve talks, there's the sound of deep and terrible guilt in the back of his voice, even if he's doing a pretty good job trying to make sure it doesn't take over. ]
Tony. I'm so sorry I wasn't there.
I wasn't there when you and Peter both needed me. I should've been.
[ It doesn't matter to Steve anymore what he had been doing, because this kind of thing isn't rational. When Tony and Peter were up in space, Steve and the rest of the Avengers had been protecting Vision. Fighting Thano's army. It's important — world-endingly so. But even now, Steve has imagined hundreds of scenarios where he should've found a way, even if some of them are literally impossible. He should've split himself in two if he needed to — he should've been there for his family. ]
I'm not asking for forgiveness. No amount of it could bring Pete back. I know that. I just—
You're right Tony. I left. I broke our vows. But I can't— [ The word can't comes out scratchy, like a whisper, and Steve finds himself closing his now unoccupied hand into a fist as he pushes the emotion in his throat back down. ] I can't lose you too Tony. I can't not be there again.
[ Given the gravity with which Steve's speaking now, there's a sense that he isn't talking about their relationship. He's talking about Tony's life. ]