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He could only focus on his breathing, though “focus” might’ve been too generous a word. Maybe he was just dissociating. His normally noisy mind was silent now, and that silence was suffocating, even if it offered a twisted kind of comfort.
The faint, measured conversations around him felt distant, like the low hum of the Quinjet they were flying in. He still wore his suit, helmet off, a smear of blood on his brow from some hit, maybe that’s what had him disoriented. Or maybe not. Who cared.
He’d sat as far away from the others as he could. No one looked at him twice before deciding he wasn’t worth the effort, or at least that’s what he told himself. But a pair of ocean-blue eyes kept watching him.
After what felt like hours, the Quinjet’s hum began to fade until it landed with a sharp, metallic thud on the Avengers Compound helipad. Even when the engines went quiet, his head kept buzzing. Maybe it was a migraine coming on. God, how he hated those.
They all disembarked, walking toward the compound’s interior, wrapped in an oppressive, awkward silence, almost as heavy as the exhaustion weighing on their shoulders. No one said a word. Maybe no one dared, or maybe no one had anything worth saying.
Well. no one except the Captain.
At that point, silence seemed far more appealing than hearing that voice with its faint Brooklyn lilt.
“You didn’t have to intervene like that, Tony.”
Oh, great. Of course Rogers had chosen him as the sermon’s target.
“If you’d waited for my signal, we could’ve avoided the bridge collapse.” His tone was firm. the tone of a man convinced he always knew best.
Tony scoffed, though there was no amusement in his voice or face.
“Oh, really?” His tone was so dry Steve actually flinched and froze in place. “Funny, because from where I was standing, Rogers, if I hadn’t intervened, five civilians and a fuel truck would’ve gone up in flames, making the damage a hell of a lot worse.”
Steve crossed his arms, that infuriating gesture he did whenever he wanted to look calm and superior.
“Still, you acted on your own. Didn’t you hear the team strategy we discussed?”
“Ha. Team? No, Rogers. You barked orders and everyone else followed you like obedient puppies. Sorry if I don’t feel like licking your ass too.”
Steve looked scandalized. Natasha looked like she wanted to laugh, but quickly remembered which side she was supposed to be on and stayed composed.
Clint and Sam looked visibly uncomfortable.
James just stared at the floor, listening intently to every word.
“You can’t do everything alone, Tony. We’re a team.”
Tony let out a laugh that came out more like a growl. “You know what’s funny? You say team like it actually means something.”
Steve took a deep breath, preparing for one of his moral speeches. That look of disappointment crossed his face again, and it made Tony’s stomach twist.
“I’m not trying to fight,” Steve said. “I just want you to understand that when you do things your way, the rest of us are at risk. Not everyone can improvise like you.”
“Wow, thanks, Rogers. Guess we’re calling saving five civilians improvising now.”
Against his better judgment, Tony glanced at the others. Every one of them, except James, who still stared at the floor. had that same disappointed look in their eyes. Judging him. Criticizing him. Like they always did.
And then everything seemed to disconnect.
He could hear his blood pounding so hard it was like his heartbeat had moved into his ears, But he could feel it thundering against his ribs, desperate to break free. Was he breathing? He thought he was, fast, shallow. but the air wasn’t getting in. He was choking. His chest felt crushed, his muscles tight, his jaw clenched, his back aching with tension. His arms trembled from how hard he was tensing them. Cold sweat broke out along his skin, and nausea twisted his stomach until bile threatened to rise and burn his throat.
James lifted his head sharply; the others froze.
“Tony—” Steve started, but then Omega pheromones flooded the room, ginger and citrus, sharp and acidic. Anguish, sadness, fury. They all knew what it meant. How could they not? Every single one of them, except Tony, was an Alpha.
Fucking Alphas. Always thinking they were superior. He wanted to punch every single one of them.
Then he smelled that scent, apple and mint. Disgusting. He wrinkled his nose and stumbled back several steps, as if the air itself had turned toxic.
“I… I don’t want… your damn pheromones, Rogers,” he hissed. His vision blurred; he couldn’t even make out their faces anymore. Didn’t matter. He just wanted to get away.
So he turned and practically ran.
James’s jaw was tight, his knuckles white. He could still feel Tony’s distressed pheromones clinging to the air, and he knew what that reaction meant. The others probably didn’t, not really, but he did. He knew what a panic attack looked like, what it felt like. And Tony Stark had just had one. Because of Steve.
He shot the so-called “team” a hard glare before growling low in his throat and going after Tony.
Tony had locked himself in his room. He was still filthy from the mission, dust, sweat, blood. but he didn’t care. He needed to calm down.
He stumbled to his bed and crawled into his nest, the one he’d built lazily but lovingly. Pillows, blankets, and clothes stolen from Pepper, Rhodey, and a few shirts he’d nicked from Happy. Their scents grounded him, and that was what he needed right now. Still, he couldn’t stop trembling.
Then came the soft knocks on the door. He hissed irritably.
“Tony… it’s me. James.”
That low, rough but gentle voice startled him. There was a pause, waiting for an answer that never came.
“Are you okay?” Silence.
Of course Tony wasn’t okay. His usual scent, a rich blend of honey, ginger, and pomegranate, now smelled sour, muted, and sad. Gone was the warmth it usually carried.
“I know I’m the last person you want to talk to right now… but I’ll be here. If you need me.”
Then James sat down on the floor, right against the door. Tony knew from the shadow beneath it. He grimaced and turned his back to the door, curling back into his nest, trying to drown out the self-destructive thoughts and the crawling anxiety under his skin.
He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he felt better. Just a little.
When he blinked awake, there was a new scent in the air, dark berries and moss. Like a quiet forest. Calming, grounding, safe.
It definitely wasn’t his. James.
He turned his head toward the door. The shadow was still there. James hadn’t left.
It was confusing, really. He had technically forgiven the man, had helped him through rehab, but since then he’d mostly avoided him. And when they did interact, Tony made sure to keep things sharp and distant.
Maybe he’d regret this later. But honestly, what else was new? His life was already a mess.
“James…” he called softly. There was movement outside his door.
“Tony…? What’s wrong?” James’s voice was gentle, and Tony could feel the calm pheromones bleeding through the air. He almost laughed.
“You can come in.”
Silence again. Then movement. The door opened.
James stood there, exactly as he had when they got off the Quinjet. He hadn’t moved an inch since.
The door closed behind him, but he didn’t come closer, just stood there, waiting, like he needed permission.
“Are you really gonna make me say it?” Tony asked. James said nothing, just watched him with that quiet, patient look. Tony huffed.
“Damn Alpha. Come here.”
He patted the bed vaguely, making space in the nest. It was subtle, but Tony noticed how James tensed, how his pupils dilated, then contracted. He hesitated for a moment, then moved closer, slow and cautious, as if expecting Tony to change his mind. He didn’t.
When James reached the bed, he froze again, looking at Tony with those soft blue eyes that made him both furious and… something else.
“Don’t look at me like that, Barnes. Get in here and stop acting like a guilty puppy.”
The corner of James’s mouth twitched, almost into a smile.
He kicked off his boots, shrugged off his tactical vest and a few weapons, then climbed carefully into the nest.
Tony wasn’t in the mood, or had the energy to be picky. So he left his everyday 'Tony Stark' attitude. The second James settled in, Tony moved closer, curling up against his side, letting the Alpha’s scent wrap around him, calm him.
He’d never say it out loud, but he liked how their scents balanced each other, pomegranate and berries, honey and moss.
They weren't on the best of terms. But maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this.
As long as James kept holding him like this.