Chapter Text
Tony Stark was three, the first time he saw someone cough up flowers.
He was three, the first time he saw his mother nearly choke to death on tiny, white, star-shaped flowers, and that was also his introduction to Hanahaki disease.
[Stephanotis: happiness in marriage]
Not that he knew it at the time, exactly.
No, instead he’d been very scared, because even if he didn’t know why it was happening, he could still see his mom’s resignation and quiet sorrow, and Jarvis’ hidden concern. Could still hear their argument, after they thought he was asleep, about telling Howard, could still smell the chamomile that Jarvis had brewed for sore throats.
It’d been terrifying, because for an entire week, Maria was paler than normal, quieter, a tad more reserved in front of the cameras—and when she wasn’t quiet, it was because she was coughing up a storm of petals.
It was the first time he saw her cough up flowers. But most definitely not the last.
And it always happened when Howard was on his expeditions, the really long ones where he forgot to call his family once a week or so, and Tony didn’t need to be a genius to put the pieces together.
As he gets older, and learns more about the world, Tony finally has a name for it. For the thing that his mom treats like a cold, the thing that has her coughing raggedly late at night and has Jarvis’ brow furrowing in concern, the thing that she asked Tony to not tell his father about, when she’d realized he’d noticed.
Hanahaki disease.
Wherein unrequited love was painful in more ways than one, and the only way to get rid of it was to for their love to be returned, get over it, or to have the bloom removed by a surgeon.
…which his mom was not about to do, because Tony had sorted through several dozen books on botany and flower meanings to figure out what the root of the problem was, and that’s also right around the same time Tony decides he does not want to be like his father, ever.
It’s also where he starts making a habit of helping his family where he can. Whether that means helping Jarvis get the kettle ready, or keeping a handkerchief on him at all times, it didn’t matter—anything he can do to help, to put a smile on his mom’s face, to relieve the tension in Jarvis’ shoulders. [It still doesn’t feel like enough.]
Tony grew up, learning at an early age from his mom how to wear masks like a second skin, how to work the press, how to smile for the cameras even if his world is crumbling around him because the media’s like vultures who’d pick at the smallest crack. How to hide his weaknesses from the spotlight, how to give a smile like bared teeth even if all he wanted to do was cry.
It was by no means intentional—but that’s what he learned anyway.
Because they had managed to successfully fool the world into thinking all was well in the Stark home, when nothing could be further from the truth. Not when Howard was out more than he was in, not when Maria coughed up flowers on a semiregular basis.
The world thought his father was a great man, and maybe he was, but…after he’d seen his mom quietly spit yet another small flower onto her handkerchief with the ease of long practice, he’d quietly resolved to never be like Howard, no matter what it took.
Not when Tony’s nightmares [finding his mom dead, surrounded by a sea of tiny white stars] became a recurring theme in his childhood, especially when he’s at boarding school. Not when Jarvis’ hair turned grey faster than it had any right to, because even if she’d taken to treating it like a cold, there was always an underlying tension hanging over their heads like the sword of Damocles, whenever she started coughing.
No. Even if the press loved comparing him to his father, Tony would never be like him.
Ever.
If anything, he took more after his mom, and even then Tony’d privately sworn that, if the situation ever arose, where he fell in love and it wasn’t returned, he’d…deal with it. Because if love could bring one of the strongest people he knew to her knees? No way was he going to let that happen to him. Never.
He’d guard his heart, make Fort Knox jealous of its security, to make sure that never happened to him. His family was more than enough, his love for his mom and Jarvis and Aunt Peggy made his heart feel full, he didn’t need romantic love too. Not when the risk outweighed the benefits.
If that ever happened to him, he’d…deal with it.
James Rhodes was at a college party, and sorely regretting it.
Geez. This was what he got for being dragged to a shindig his roommate wanted to check out.
The music was bad, his roommate had ditched him, almost everyone was drunk, and one girl was—oh, fuck, one girl was crying. But before he could move towards her in concern, he saw a tiny figure do the same—and that was the last straw, too, because there was no way that kid wasn’t a minor. [How’d he even get in, anyway?]
But he made his way to the duo anyway, to try to help. However, it soon became obvious the kid [wasn’t he supposed to be some sort of genius?] had things well in hand, in more ways than one. And that the situation was well out of his depth, as well, because before James could reach her, she started retching, and the kid barely managed to snatch up an empty garbage bin and pressed it towards her before she started puking.
And that…gross as it may have sounded, James had been expecting it to be the regular fare that happened when one drank too much, had been braced for the reek of vomit. He had not been expecting the flowers, at all.
Or the grim face the kid helping her had, once he’d seen the pale yellow petals.
[Primrose: I can’t live without you]
It was plain to see this wasn’t the kid’s first round with the Hanahaki disease; which was a bit of a relief, seeing as how James had never seen it in real life and he had no idea as to how to help…even if was also slightly unnerving, seeing the youngest person in the room handling it with a very clearly practiced ease, coaching the girl to control her breathing with a calm voice and not batting an eye at the blood on her hands.
It’s not until afterwards that he gets the kid’s name. After searching for in vain for something to make tea in, because the kid had suggested it even as he’d kept sharp eyes on the girl’s ragged breathing, after they’d left the party because everyone else was too drunk to help, after.
Tony Stark. Huh.
“How’d you even get in?” James found himself asking incredulously, because…well, he’d known the kid was probably a minor, but there was ‘freshman who’s got buddies’ and then there was ‘tiny fifteen-year-old alone at a party’ and that was alarming on a number of levels.
The kid, however, only smirked as he retorted, “I have my sources,” and if James hadn’t seen the way he’d talked soothingly to the girl, he would have thought it was genuine—speaking of which.
“And how’d know how to help?” Because there was ‘passing knowledge of first aid’ and then there was ‘here’s some breathing tips to make sure there’s no choking’, and James had not expected to hear the latter from the youngest person in the room. Especially given it was such a rare disease.
Tony’s face, however, immediately went blank at the question.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replied stiffly, and there was very clearly a train wreck in his past if that was his knee-jerk reaction to the Hanahaki disease. [Hmm.]
Still, it’d be rude to push him on the matter, after having worked together, so James changed the subject.
“Still, kid—“
“I’m not a kid!” Tony sputtered indignantly, but James continued relentlessly.
“—you shouldn’t be sneaking into parties, that’s just common sense. And this one’s not even a good one, either.”
“Then why were you there?” Tony countered, and James felt a moment at chagrin.
“Roommate dragged me to it, and I’m not sure if they ditched me or vice versa, after…” He gestured vaguely, and Tony nodded in understanding.
“Oh, by the way, didn’t catch your name.”
“James Rhodes, ROTC.”
He sees Tony around campus more often, after that.
It helps that apparently they’re taking some classes together, even if he hadn’t really noticed before, and the more he drifts apart from his roommate the more he finds himself hanging out with Tony, talking shop and commiserating about professors who love the sound of their voice and just nerding out in general.
Somehow, James finds himself taking him under his wing—or is it the other way around, and Tony grew on him instead?
Tony knew he worried Rhodey slightly, what with his extreme aversion to anything that vaguely smacked of relationships, but…well. He wasn’t interested, simple as that.
His family was slightly concerned about it, actually, but…Tony just couldn’t see it. He was fifteen, sixteen, and had yet to figure out just what the hell constituted a crush, because sure, girls were pretty and guys were also attractive, but…how the fuck did that translate? Like, how?
Lori—the girl he’d met the same night he’d met Rhodey, the girl who’d found out her boyfriend had been cheating on her and nearly choked to death that same night—was just a friend, despite what the rumors said. Sure, she was apparently also an aspiring model, but…just, why was everyone so obsessed with his sex life?!
And that was just the start of it, too, because he’d just been checking up on her to make sure she was doing okay, afterwards, and yet some paparazzo had somehow managed to turn it into some sordid affair. Something about how she’d ditched her boyfriend for him after a one-night stand, or something.
Well. At least it made good practice, even if Rhodey had been confused and more than slightly disgusted with how fast everyone else had latched onto the idea. Lori at least had been willing to play along, and all in all Tony’d say it turned out okay, all things considered.
Sure, he’d had to deal with an angry ex-boyfriend who somehow blamed him for it all, and okay, maybe in retrospect he shouldn’t have been so fast to suggest the surgery to get rid of the disease, but still. Everyone was okay, and apparently Tony was getting a reputation across campus, so he’d take it, and Howard’s disapproval was barely a blip on his radar whenever it came up.
Because sure, the man was home more often now, but nothing he did erased the memories of Maria’s quiet, dry coughing late at night in the mansion, or Jarvis’ worried looks, or the scent of chamomile as yet another kettle of tea was made to soothe sore throats. Tony just…couldn’t.
Couldn’t forgive his father, for that. His mom was more than happy, when Howard stopped going on the Arctic expeditions as much, finally started spending more time at home—and Tony was happy for her, he really was—but he couldn’t forgive Howard for that. He’d stopped giving a crap about his approval, by the time he’d hit puberty, because of it, and like hell he was going to start now.
If anything, the man’s disapproval helped egg him on, and he got a vicious sort of glee whenever he imagined Howard’s face at whatever headline the tabloids had gone with.
Sure, it probably wasn’t the best of life choices he could’ve gone with, but where’s the fun in that? Even if he wasn’t interested, even if he thought parties were about as fun as a caffeine-fueled engineering binge with the right people, well…turns out spite was an excellent motivator.
The next party he goes to is a lot nicer than the one he’d snuck into, that first time, but somehow, he still ends up walking one of the girls back to her dorm after she had a few too many drinks. Well, not just him, he enlists the help of her roommate as well, but the rumor mill still has a field day with it anyway. [Something about a threesome, was it?]
Time goes on, and it happens again, and again—Tony goes to parties, and inevitably walks out with a pretty girl on his arm. The guys are jealous, sometimes, but Tony doesn’t know how to say “I’m sorry nobody taught you how to respect women” without starting a fight [he should know, he’s tried], so he just flashes a smile, and pretends he knows what he’s doing, instead of somehow having managed to friendzone what feels like every single sorority on campus.
The rumors are making him out to be some sort of sex god or something, but… he just…can’t see the appeal? Because as he gets older, and starts experimenting more, he can’t help but feel that sex is overrated. [Maybe he’s just a late bloomer?] Even if the rumors only grow, and exponentially at that, and he has probably a little too much fun in egging them on, because the media loves a show and Howard’s face whenever it came up was more than worth the effort.
In private, of course, it’s another story.
His defenses are ironclad, and he’s more than happy with having his family at hand, no need for a significant other. But sometimes, the matter comes up every so often, and he can’t help but ask his mom and Rhodey and Jarvis and Aunt Peggy about it, because it’s getting to the point where it’s ridiculous. He’s sixteen, seventeen, and sex is still way overrated, and how was his smiling at one of his classmates supposed to be indicative of an epic romance the way that one tabloid was implying?!
Still. Nobody was coughing up flowers, so Tony was willing to call it a success. So far, so good.
…and then the accident happened, and it was all a moot point anyway because if pretending he was the second coming of Howard was what it took to secure his company’s holdings and prevent layoffs, then he’d give the world the show they wanted.
Even if he hated every second of it, because he did not want to be Howard 2.0, no way no how, and even if his father’d apparently been quite the heartbreaker back in the day, Tony still felt nauseous the first time he’d heard the rumors of one of his model friends ‘seen coughing up roses’—because even if he knew it was bullshit, it still hit far too close to home.
Between that, actually running the company, and losing Jarvis, Tony’s got a lot on his hands.
Time passes, and he starts to get used to it.
Starts to heal, slowly, from losing so much of his tiny patchwork family at once, starts really making a name for himself in the world. He’s not proud of being the Merchant of Death, but…it’s something. [Better than “Howard Stark’s son”, at least.] A good distraction, at least, because if he’s getting asked about his latest innovation or the latest charity he’s made in honor of his family, he’s less likely to be asked about his [nonexistent] love life, and he’ll take what he can get.
Time passes, and Pepper and Happy are unexpected additions to his family, but he’s not complaining. At all. Even if he’s not seeing all of them as often, these days, because he’s so busy running the company with Obie that he can’t always find the time to do more than the occasional phone call with Aunt Peggy, his heart’s still fit to burst with how much he cares for them.
For the way Obie watched his back in the corporate sector, for Aunt Peggy’s rare but warm hugs, for Pepper’s quiet competence—and the way they all accepted him the way he was.
It’s Happy, who helps him find a word for something he’d had a hard time quantifying his entire life, and even if he’d never heard the word “asexual” before, outside of biology, Tony’s ecstatic. It doesn’t change anything in public—he’s still got a laundry list of models on speed-dial, and vice versa, because of their mutually beneficial arrangement—but in private?
It’s a lifesaver. Once Tony has the time to do further research on his own, more and more stuff comes up, and even if it’s still not a very common term, that it exists at all is a relief because it means he’s not alone, means he’s not broken the way he'd started to privately worry, because everything he's seeing in media's telling him he's not normal. That his lack of a libido is something to worry about, wrapping it up as a medical concern even if Tony knows there's nothing wrong with him, but it's not until Happy shows him the relevant article that he breathes a quiet sigh of relief.
And his family accepts him—Aunt Peggy’d just given him a hug, after he’d brought it up, and Obie’d given him a pat on the shoulder and said something about “keeping appearances up in public” and acts like it’s not a big deal, and it’s just…Tony has no words for it. He’d like to think his mom and Jarvis would’ve been as accepting, had they still been alive.
Sure, there’s always the suspicion that it might have something to do with his ironclad defenses, and Obie had mentioned something about being a late bloomer, but…either way, Tony didn’t mind. He wasn’t interested in romantic love, anything beyond that didn’t matter.
Things were great, things were going just fine.
Virginia “Pepper” Potts first clues into Tony’s extreme aversion to Hanahaki disease during an interview. Specifically, when the subject of the Maria Stark Foundation comes up, less than a year into her job.
“If you don’t mind my asking, why is there an entire wing dedicated to funding the surgical removal of Hanahaki disease?” The interviewer asks.
“Well, not everyone’s as lucky as my parents,” Tony replies, and only she and Happy pick up on the irony in his voice.
That was her first clue, but she had thought the dry bitterness in his voice had been aimed at Howard Stark—after all, in the company it was widely known their relationship hadn’t been the best.
But as time went on, more clues kept cropping up.
The steady stream of models that were on very, very good terms with her boss, and his reputation for one-night-stands, was another hint, as was the list of surgeons JARVIS had at hand. His subtle avoidance for media romanticizing Hanahaki disease was only something she picked up on as time went by. The disdain he had, whenever it came up in the tabloids, that went far beyond normal ‘playboy who doesn’t settle down’ territory.
Then, Happy brought up the asexual thing, and they couldn’t help share a glance after seeing the relief on Tony’s face, when he found out Hanahaki disease would most likely never affect him.
Yep. There was most definitely a story in there. Probably a train wreck, at that.
…either way, she’d be there for him. He considered her family, even after she’d seen just how ironclad his defenses were, there was no way she wasn’t returning the favor.
Time passed, and Tony was content.
Yes, Tony’s patchwork family was tiny, a side-effect of his heart being so guarded only a handful of people could get past. But that was a trade-off he was more than willing to deal with, even if he had to occasionally listen to Obie’s talks of him finding someone, something about him not ending up alone. Still.
His heart’s safe, and he intends to keep it that way, because even if the media tends to glorify the image of a lover wasting away before having their love returned, Tony refuses to take part in that narrative. No, far better to focus on being the Merchant of Death, or literally anything else at all. Romantic love was more of a hassle than he needed in his life.
He’s never needed to call a surgeon, after all, so even if Pepper’s glances and Rhodey’s concern can be touching, he doesn’t plan on changing a thing; it’s not like he needs a significant other to have a rich and fulfilling life. [Asexual hypothesis holding up so far.]
Things were great, things were going just fine.
The first crack in Tony’s ironclad defenses was Yinsen. Specifically, his pity.
“You have everything, yet nothing.”
Explaining that no, actually, he’d chosen this, had led to even more pity, and turns out that a) talking about his parents was still incredibly hard to do, and b) no, it wasn’t just him, Howard truly had been a shitty husband for his wife to have had to put up with that. [Good to know.]
Even if the pity only manifested more by the day, and Tony hated it. What, like he needed a significant other? His family was just fine!
“Hey, I’m already a few minutes away from a broken heart, can you really blame me for protecting it as much as I have?”
“…no, I suppose I do not. Not anymore, at any rate. You’ll need to be careful: the arc reactor is already putting strain on your body, I’m not sure how surgery would—”
“Don’t worry, won’t happen. I’ve gone my entire life with no problem so far, haven’t I?”
Then, of course, Raza and his men had burst in, and they’d had far more immediate concerns.
After that, though, things changed.
Being Iron Man took up so much of his time, and he did his best to shore up his defenses more than ever before after Obie—no, Stane, had proved that he hadn’t been guarded enough. And as if that wasn’t enough, turns out he was being poisoned by the same thing keeping him alive.
His heart was slowly killing him, literally. [Was poison running through his veins really so different to drowning in the scent of flowers?]
…the irony of his father’s help in creating a new element, and thus saving his life, is not lost on Tony. Fortunately, with how hectic things’ve been, he’s got plenty to do to distract him from it. [Temporarily, at least.]
Things are good, things are great. [His heart’s still his weakness, but that wasn’t anything new, now, was it?]
The Avengers assemble, New York’s saved, and somehow this motley crew worms past his ironclad defenses in the span of…what, hours? Days?
Part of Tony’s vaguely alarmed by it, actually, because those same defenses had kept the world at bay for decades— and yet these six people had somehow managed to get through.
…somehow, it felt just as natural as when he’d met the rest of his tiny patchwork family. [Strange, that.]
Pepper and Rhodey are happy, for him, because even if they hadn’t talked about it for a while Tony knows they’re worried about him. About his being alone, because he hadn’t exactly been in a good place after Obi—Stane. So the influx of people who’d somehow gotten past his defenses is very welcome, and between meetings and whenever she’s in town, Pepper always has a smile for the team. Rhodey, too, and really it wasn’t Tony’s fault the team’d clicked and moved in so easily, okay?
Natasha, he’d known before, and as time goes by they commiserate over masks and defenses. She’d been the only one unsurprised by how easily he’d played the room no matter where they were or what the team was doing, and more than once they’d trolled the rest of the team by chatting in Italian, just for kicks.
Bruce was his brother in all but blood when it came to science, enough said. The Hulk also had a special place in his heart, and Tony didn’t worry about either of them breaking it.
Clint and Thor had been more of a surprise, but turns out bonding over family issues was a thing so even if Tony still had issues talking about his track record with the Hanahaki disease, it’d been so, very easy to sympathize with Thor’s laments over betrayal. Clint had been quieter, but splitting a drink over asshole dads was a thing they did and there were always experimental arrows available for the really bad days, so it worked out.
…and then there was Steve.
For the record, that’d caught Tony off-guard as much as it did everyone else. Even ignoring the Howard Issue, Tony hadn’t expected to get along with him nearly as much as he had, because…really, what was there to it?
An All-American soldier from the ‘40s, all wholesomeness and patriotism and whatever crap it was that he’d managed to pick up from Howard’s never-ending talks about Captain America, would never get along with him, right? Tony Stark, former CEO to one of the biggest weapon companies in the country, former Merchant of Death, playboy with a model on each arm and a smile for the cameras…well, there was no way that wouldn’t have ended in disaster, right?
Tony’d been as surprised as the rest of the team, when Steve’d accepted his invitation to move in, is what he’s saying. And the surprises didn’t stop there, either. Turns out that given the chance, and internet access [and with some help from JARVIS, probably, the traitor], the man wasn’t half bad.
Once he’d seen Tony clam up when Howard had been mentioned once, he’d never brought him up again, and the more time went on and the more he relaxed and got used to his surroundings and next thing Tony knew, they were actually…getting along.
No, Tony hadn’t believed it either. The first time Steve’d cracked a joke, Tony had nearly choked on his coffee, pinched himself, and turned to Natasha. She, in turn, had only quirked an eyebrow at him, but that was proof that it hadn’t been a hallucination brought about by sleep deprivation and wow. Captain America actually had a sense of humor, who knew? And a similar taste in movies, and played along as the perfect straight man when Tony tried to make Fury’s vein throb after they found out Coulson’d survived New York, and holy shit, they were actually friends.
If it’d stayed at that, Tony would’ve been happy, because things were going great, were better than ever.
Tony had blamed the itch at the back of his throat as the cold, at first. Wasn’t his fault, it’d been that time of year when just about everyone had been sneezing, and thanks to the arc reactor his immune system was shot so he’d just made a note to eat more oranges and carried on.
But a week later, the itch wasn’t gone.
Strange, but again, his immune system was iffy, so…that was probably it. Right. Just a cold.
A week after that, though, he’s in the lab working on the latest armor and it’s late at night when the coughing fit hits. Tony’s so, very glad he’s alone for it, save for JARVIS and the robots, because he’s not sure how he would’ve handled someone else seeing his reaction otherwise. Coughing in and of itself is painful, now, thanks to the arc reactor, after all, but the burning in his chest had been secondary to how he’d felt seeing the spray of tiny blue petals on his handkerchief.
[Iris: your friendship means so much to me]
The only silver lining to this mess was that it was early enough that the team, even Natasha, didn’t know just how deep his masks went. Otherwise hiding…it would have been a lot harder.
He’s having a hard time as is, no need for these people to have to suffer with him, after all. Even if Tony’s not sure just how the hell it’d even happened, because what the fuck, universe?! He’d gone decades with his guard up, heart protected in a way that rivaled Fort Knox, had never once gotten an itch in his throat after trying his hand at dating, and yet it’s this that gets him?! He’d never been goddamn attracted to anyone that way, before, for fuck’s sake!
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair, and Tony didn’t know what to do, because this was everything he’d hoped to avoid, and yet—well.
Fuck.
Kicker is, part of Tony didn’t even mind. Steve was his best friend on the team, and they clicked so easily both on the field and off of it, between the banter and the teaming up against Natasha and Clint during prank wars and movie night, and the early morning jokes [yes, he’d fallen asleep, right, didn’t pull an all-nighter agai—Steve, give him back his mug!] but now Tony didn’t know how much of that was friendship and how much was…his problem, and the uncertainty was almost too much now.
Turns out the palladium mess was good practice for this; he’s slowly dying, again, being killed by his heart, again, and no one notices.
Oh, Natasha gives him an odd glance once or twice, but Tony just fakes a wince and says something about the arc reactor giving him some trouble, and she buys it. But it’s early on enough that no one else on the team so much as suspects, because, as he’s proven before, he can put on one hell of a show even on his deathbed.
Not that he’ll die, of course; even if he…loves Steve, to have gotten himself into this mess, and even if he’s self-sacrificing [according to Rhodey, anyway], Tony knows the world needs him, and he’d sworn to never hurt his family that way. If he can’t get rid of…it himself, well, JARVIS already has a list of surgeons at hand.
First, though, he’d try to will it away. Less of a risk of compromising his entire friendship, that way.
And in the meantime…well, Tony’d learned a lot from his mom.
If he just happened to be slowly pulling away from the team, just a bit, well, he hadn’t been lying when he’d mentioned that board meeting, okay? Or that gala, or how the LA branch needed some of his time, or that newest modification to the Widow’s Bites, or Clint's arrows, or…
The petals he’s coughing up now are bigger. He’s also taken to drinking chamomile more, because the itch in the back of his throat is a constant, and after the first time Bruce comments on something smelling floral, Tony laughs it off as ‘oh, looks like Gracia from Accounting’s new perfume rubbed off, oops’, and starts keeping breath mints on his person. He’s also getting tired more often, what with his lungs having to put up not only with the arc reactor but also…it.
His family, of course, knew him well enough to read between the lines, as time went on. Pepper’s concern had been growing since the first time he’d started to pull away from the team, and the first time Rhodey’d seen him since…it had started, Tony didn’t have the heart to keep it from them.
…well, more like he’d had an unavoidable coughing fit when it was just the three of them and JARVIS, but semantics.
The looks of horror when the shower of petals had spilled out had nearly been more than he could bear, but he hadn’t been able to resist at least trying to break the tension.
“Hey, guys. Remember how I thought I wasn’t straight, because I’d never had a crush? How we all thought I was aro? Well…turns out I’m demi.”
After the initial freak out, they’d done their best to help. Pepper’s covering for him, when he needs to duck out of sight for a while, and Rhodey’s got his back and Tony hates what he’s doing to them. Hates the stress he’s seeing in Pepper’s face and the feigned casualness in Rhodey’s voice, and his stupid, traitorous heart.
It continues in this vein for another few weeks, when one morning Tony wakes up with iris stems scratching his throat on the way out, and part of him feels cold at the realization that he’s approaching the last stages of…it.
JARVIS is sounding the most concerned Tony’s ever heard him, and—nope, he’d sworn to never hurt his family like that. [Looks like it’s time for something drastic.]
“J, call that surgeon, will you?”
Pepper had been urging him to talk to Steve since she’d first found out. Turns out it’s a requirement for the operation, urging him to do so at least one last time before eliminating the opportunity for good. Especially since the surgery might be riskier than expected, simply because the arc reactor’s going to throw a wrench into things when planning the procedure.
Normally, Tony wouldn’t.
In any other life, he’d would’ve been content to swallow his feelings and pretend he wasn’t in love, would’ve enjoyed things as they were.
In this life, however…well, it wasn’t like he had any other choice, now, did he?
Still, it takes time, for him to muster up the resolve to talk to Steve.
Right up until he actually goes to see him, late at night in the gym, looking morose and heartbroken in a way that caught Tony off-guard, because he hadn’t seen that particular face in months.
“Hey, Steve?”
Steve didn’t notice him, however, until after he’s nearly broken his latest punching bag.
“Oh, sorry, Tony. Didn’t see you there.”
“Hey, I wanted to talk, but are you okay? You’re kind of…”
Steve didn’t look at him. “Anniversary’s coming up.”
All of a sudden, it hits. Tony’d been so caught up in his own issues, he’d nearly forgotten. Right. Bucky’s fall and Steve’s crashing in the Arctic, that was coming up—he’d made a note of it, a while back, actually, and…oh.
Oh, okay.
“Want me to schedule something? A visit to Arlington, anything?”
But Steve only shook his head. “No, I can…it’ll pass.”
“No, seriously, if you need anything, just ask.”
“Don’t—I’ll…be okay. Just…what was it you wanted to talk about, Tony?”
“Oh, nothing that can’t wait. Nothing big. Just a heads up, I’ll be out of town again, another board meeting.”
The surgery happened three days later.