#mrpb2019

The cold air nipped at your skin, a surprisingly nice feeling after the feeling of too many people huddled together inside. You knew you shouldn’t stay out too long, not with your jacket still sitting on the stool beside Natasha inside, but there was something almost intoxicating about being out on the balcony, looking down at the city lights below.

“I knew I’d find you waiting out here for me,” called a voice you had once longed to hear. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was your former flame, the arrogance in his tone was unmistakable, and where you had once found his confidence charming, you know found yourself wondering just what it was he was so cocky about after all.

“Why on earth would I be waiting for you?” you asked with a single raised brow, turning to face him in what you hoped was a nonchalant manner. It didn’t matter that your heart felt as though it was hammering away behind your rib cage, or that you felt so anxious that you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing upright. You were determined.

“Oh, please. I know you’ve been watching me since I arrived. Your friends wouldn’t be so protective if you didn’t still care.”

You frowned at his words, surprised to find that somehow they just didn’t fit right. Yes, Clint and Natasha were protective of you, but it wasn’t because they thought you’d do something stupid like take him back. They weren’t trying to stop you, they didn’t need to protect you, they wanted pay back, as simple as that. And when it came to you caring for him… It was surprising even to you to find that that just wasn’t the case. You didn’t want him back, you didn’t want to take back the hurt and pain, didn’t even want to live in a world where he hadn’t cheated on you. If anything, you were glad it had happened, glad it had caused you to fall apart, because in that moment you knew you truly didn’t care about him anymore.

“Have you ever considered the fact that maybe they just like revenge on people from my past?” you offered, your head tilting in consideration, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he truly was in your past now.

“Look, Y/N, I know I stuffed things up, but if I could just-”

“Sorry I took so long, babe, the queue was ridiculous,” Tony spoke cheerfully, not bothering to give the man any mind as he barrelled past him, holding out a drink for you before wrapping an arm around your middle and pulling you towards him. Dropping a quick kiss to the top of your head that had you smiling as it always did, a simple gesture of care that he had taken to doing some months earlier, he turned to give the man a puzzled look as if to say ‘who are you and what are you still doing here.

“Tony, this is Aldric,” you introduced with a smile, happily playing your part as you leant into him slightly. You didn’t want to over sell the act, not wanting to get caught in your lie, but you had to make it believable, and with Tony practically radiating warmth in his three piece suit, it wasn’t hard to want to snuggle into him.

“Oh, so you’re the ex,” Tony spoke with far too much enthusiasm, his lips twisting into a smirk as he gave the man a quick disparaging once over, a sound somewhere between a huff and scoff leaving him as he turned to face you fully. “I should probably thank him, huh?”

Rolling your eyes comically, you took a sip from your drink, delighting in watching the man squirm with confusion as he watched the way you and Tony interacted. “Don’t you think that might be a bit childish?”

“True,” Tony agreed, tilting his head in consideration as he turned his attention back to you, a twinkle in his eye as he continued. “Besides, I would have won you eventually, one way or another.”

“Is that so?” you teased, almost forgetting the reason for your act as you revelled in the playful flirtations.

“Oh, most definitely,” he nodded ever so slightly, his gaze piercing yours as he offered a smug smirk. “You see I always get what I want, and you have been at the top of that list for far too long.”

Laughter spilled from your lips, your head falling in amusement before you met his gaze once more. Satisfaction mixed with delight as he stared back at you, his smile softening at the sight of your own.

A pause of silence as you simply took in the moment, his arms wrapped around you as he looked down at you fondly, his usual mask slipping away as he stood in front of you. A shuffling of feet to your side caught your attention, and you forced a playful smile back on your lips, reminding yourself this was all just for show. “Well, aren’t you lucky then? I guess you ought to claim your prize then.”

A jolting movement came from next to you, making the couch beneath you bounce, pulling you from your sleep once more, but it felt like ages since you had last been tempted to wake. With a grumble you pushed yourself further into whatever was serving as your pillow, drawing a laugh similar to before from next to you. Thor, your mind provided amongst the haze, irritated at the Norse God for interrupting the blissful and rare moments of peace. Thor, your mind repeated, irritation slipping into a slow panic. Why could you hear Thor? Was he in your room? But no. That wasn’t right. Your sleep induced mind slowly stilled, listening for more sounds in the hopes of putting together whatever was happening without fully waking up because damn it this felt good.

“Pay up,” you barely caught the end of the sentence, your hearing not quite ready to focus yet. But that was undoubtedly Tony’s voice, far too cheerful and smug as he spoke to what must have been Clint judging by the way he drew out his groan in response.

“Guys, shut up, I think she’s waking up,” a soft voice spoke, this time from above, the sound so close you could practically feel the vibrations of the words. No, that wasn’t right, you could feel them, rumbling against the back of your head, hoarse as if the speaker hadn’t spoken in some time. Your pillow couldn’t speak.

With a groan that rivalled Clint’s, you forced your eyes open, taking in the brightness of the room for the slightest of moments before shutting tightly once more. Too much light. Your voice husky from sleep, you muttered in a desperate hope the A.I. could hear you, “J.A.R.V.I.S. for the love of God please turn the lights down… like… a lot.”

A roar of laughter from next to you had you stretching out your legs, delighting when you heard the indigent “Hey!” as they came into contact with the God.

“Lights are now at thirty percent, Ms Y/L/N,” the British voice called over the speakers, drawing the corners of your lips up into a sleepy smile as you tried once more to open your eyes, this time to a much more acceptable brightness.

Clint sat on the ground ahead of you, fiddling with the drumsticks that he had bought on a whim a week earlier claiming he could totally play the drums if he had them; he couldn’t. Above him, reclined along the couch lay Nat, her eyes focused on the phone in her hands, but with the slightest of smiles on her lips, telling you she was aware of your gaze.

Movement drew your gaze upwards to Steve as he put down yet another six pack of beer on the coffee table, when did there get to be so many empty bottles there? Finally, Tony was sat on the couch opposite you, a knowing smile on his lips as he looked at you, his gaze repeatedly going from meeting your own to something above you, his smirk only growing with each movement.

With a moan at the very thought of having to turn around to look at whatever had him so amused, you simply let your gaze fall beneath you to a pair of legs. Legs, not a pillow. Sitting up with a jolt of surprise, you found yourself face to face with a blushing Bruce, not quite able to meet your gaze as he pulled his arm from around you, offering you a sheepish smile.

“Bruce,” you spoke slowly, realisation still kicking in slowly at the fact you must have fallen asleep against the man. Embarrassment soon had your own cheeks tinted to match his as your eyes widened in shock. You never fell asleep on people. Your training had you always so aware of your surroundings, so insecure at the very thought of relaxing that much, and yet you had fallen asleep quite by accident against the scientist. “Sorry,” the word slipped from your lips as your gaze fell to the couch.

Silence filled your ears, the rest of the team quite intently watching the spectacle before them, all of you waiting to hear what he might say. But with a shaky smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand against your knee he simply offered a quiet “it’s fine Y/N.”

Flashes of blue, rivers of red, swirls of green and gold, and suddenly you were awake, panting as a cold shiver runs down your back, your eyes wide as you desperately take in your surroundings. There were no enemies, no Gods of mischief, no tesseract, no people dead by your hands. You were alone in your room at what Tony now dubbed the Avengers’ Tower.

The situation wasn’t a stranger to you, in fact, it was all too familiar, occurring every time you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. It had been months now, months of sleepless nights and memories plaguing your dreams, filling you with fear and guilt as you sat in the darkness of your room night after night.

You wouldn’t be getting back to sleep, you knew that much, but still you liked to pretend, repeating thoughts that maybe a cup of hot chocolate would help, or a little walk around the tower to ease your thoughts. It never did any good, but still you tried night after night, silently hoping that this would be the night that something would change and you’d get more than four hours of sleep.

With your hands roughly rubbing your face as if they could purge the memories from the forefront of your mind, you grabbed at your phone blindly, not entirely certain you wanted to know what the time was. Peeking through your fingers you took in the time with a groan. Eleven o’clock. You hadn’t even managed to get to midnight before the dreams had taken over. Maybe you could force yourself back to sleep by physical exhaustion, that could be a thing, right? Pulling off your blankets with a loud huff, you moved silently throughout your room, not wanting to cause anyone else to wake up as you moved about. Your workout attire was already at the gym, residing permanently in the lockers Tony had installed in an effort to make it more of a team environment, so all you needed was your phone.

Creeping out of your bedroom door with well trained stealth and silence, you got all of ten feet before your gaze focused on the door to your side. Bruce’s name was neatly engraved into the front of the door, clinical in the way it matched every other bedroom door, a stark contrast to the warmth of the person within.

A hazy smile crept onto your lips at the thought, he was so kind, so gentle, he had let you use him as a human pillow for what had turned out to be over two hours without a word of complaint. Two hours. Your brow furrowed as you thought back to the unexpected nap. You had slept for two hours against the man and no nightmares had dared to reach you. Your fears hadn’t held you, all you had felt was comfort and peace. Would it be possible that he could keep your nightmares at bay for longer given the chance? No, that was ridiculous. You couldn’t possibly impose on him like that.

But then again, was it possible? Surely it would be less ridiculous than going to the gym while your body still ached from the mission you had completed not six hours earlier, your body still shaking from the thoughts that were plaguing you, and it wasn’t like he had complained earlier. Perhaps it was worth the risk, at the very least you could ask.

Your knuckles rapped against the door all too quietly, barely making a sound as your hesitance took over at the last moment. This was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be doing this. He was probably asleep, and if not he most certainly wouldn’t want to be bothered, especially by something this trivial. Your hand fell to your side as you took a step back. You should leave.

But just as you moved to take another step away from the door it began to shift. Your eyes widened in surprise, having desperately hoped he was asleep and hadn’t heard you. But there he stood, pulling a dressing robe around him tightly as he looked at you with bleary sleep filled eyes, silently questioning you as he slowly took you in. “Y/N?” he questioned quietly, squinting as he attempted to focus on you. Slowly his gaze relaxed, but his jaw tightened as he ran his gaze over you once more. You were still shaking, completely unaware to it as you stood in stunned silence. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking your head, the guilt from your dreams was now joined by that of having woken the man, and you desperately wished you could take back the last few moments and simply let him sleep. But it was too late, he was awake now, looking at you with that gentle caring gaze that made you want to cave and admit every negative thought that filled you.

He didn’t look upset or annoyed, simply worried, his eyes wide as his mouth tilted into a frown. One hand held his robe together as the other ushered the door further open. “Come on,” he spoke softly, his tone filled with a tenderness that nearly had you in tears. With a hand ever so softly against your shoulder blade he guided you into the room, not stopping until he had you sat on his bed, him kneeling down in front of you as he looked you over once more, making certain you weren’t hurt.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offered gently.

With a shaky sigh that nearly sends you off the edge, you close your eyes tightly, trying to regain the control you usually held so carefully in tact. You weren’t even sure of the answer. Talking about it made it real, it would no longer be something you simply dealt with, albeit unsuccessfully, by yourself. It would be something he knew, something he could judge you for, something he would keep in his mind as he watched you go off on missions, no longer as strong in his mind as you had been previously. But then, talking about it could help, after all, you were certain he had dealt with his own nightmares, it was to be expected if you quite literally turned into a green giant at times. Perhaps he would have a solution for you, one that didn’t involve knocking on his door in the middle of the night.

Still, your fears and insecurities took over you. With a deep inhale, you forced your gaze to meet his, simply offering him “Nightmares,” as your explanation.

A sympathetic smile took over his features as he took your hand in his, his mind clearly whirling with thoughts at the single word. You could see the worry still in his gaze, the way his lower lip slips between his teeth as his mind goes into overdrive, and yet his hand remains in yours, his thumb running soothing patterns against the back of your hand almost without thought.

“Did you- did you want to talk about them? Or just…” he trailed off, his brow furrowing as he struggled to come up with another possibility. If you hadn’t come to talk, he had no clue what you had in mind, not that he was entirely certain you actually had a plan, after all, you were in his room, not Steve’s or Tony’s, and it was no secret that Tony had dealt with his own share of nightmares in the past few years.

“Can I-” you started, instantly feeling an overwhelming amount of embarrassment at the very thought. But he was staring at you with those wide eyes, desperate to know how he could help you. “Could I maybe stay with you tonight?” you asked timidly, chewing on your lip as your gaze fell to the sheet beneath you, mentally preparing yourself for what was inevitably going to be his rejection.

“With me?” he questioned quickly, mouth hanging open in shock.

A small nod was the only response you could give.

“But I- You’re not scared that I might-”

“I’m not scared of the Hulk,” you huff an almost laugh at the very thought, mind filling with images of how you had joked with the green so called monster whilst fighting the God that had once taken over your mind. Perhaps it was the benefit of the battle field, but with Hulk on the same side as you you had found yourself confident, not a sliver of fear for the being as you worked together to take down the aliens that threatened your home.

It took you a moment to realise he hadn’t responded, you mind still focused on the few positive memories you had from the whole Loki debacle. But when you did your gaze slowly trailed upwards to his dumbstruck expression. You could see the cogs working away in his mind as he tried to remember every encounter you had experienced together, not once with any amount of fear on your features. A slow smile pulled at the edges of his lips, just enough to make you feel you could breathe freely once more. Perhaps you weren’t going to be kicked out after all.

Standing up, but not letting go of your hands, he glanced desperately around the room for something. “I don’t have any blankets,” he spoke as if it were the most irritating thing he had ever had to experience. “I don’t really use them, he, well, you know, I run warm,” he explained awkwardly, his free hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he tried to think.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him quickly, a small smile playing on your own lips as realisation kicked in. “Wait, does that mean I can stay?”

Your blush faded slightly, quickly replaced by a frown as your utterly oblivious boyfriend sang the lyrics off key and far too loudly.

“Please don’t talk about love tonight, please don’t talk about sweet love, please don’t talk about being true, and all the trouble we’ve been through.”

You could see Natasha’s amused expression falling quickly into a frown that matched your own. With a quick glance from the man who was still in his own little world, dancing along to the song he was singing, she turned to you with a sympathetic look in her gaze. “I’m going to take that as a ‘no,’” she sighed sadly, seemingly breaking the spell that Scott had found himself under.

He stopped mid word, arms still in odd positions from his erratic movements as he looked to the two of you with a confused expression. You weren’t smiling, weren’t laughing at his actions, and you certainly weren’t joining in. He had thought, upon hearing the single word, that breaking into a song and dance, quite literally, might lift your spirits after what he assumed would be yet another grueling workout with your best friend, but from the expressions he was met with he instantly realised he had read the room entirely incorrectly.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Nat offered you a small reassuring smile, a hand on your shoulder as she passed to give you the room.

“Babe? Everything alright?” Scott asked with a deep frown as he looked from the redhead who had managed to glare at him the entire way out of the room to your sullen features. But your expression didn’t last long, a mental shake had a soft smile forced onto your lips, not wanting to give away your thoughts and fears to him just yet.

“Of course,” you offered, placing one hand against his cheek as he came closer, a quick peck to his other cheek before moving away to put away the equipment you had used.

“Oh, no. I’m not falling for that. Last time a girl- woman- said that I found myself being served with divorce papers in prison,” he shook his head, hoping to lighten the mood slightly as he pushed for the truth.

The corners of your lips curled upwards as you gave him a slight laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “We’ve been dating for two months, Scott. I’m not going to divorce you.”

You had meant to help lighten the mood, to play on his words and ease the situation more so, edging away from the awkwardness he had unintentionally caused, but judging on the conflicted expressions of bemusement and worry on his face you weren’t so confident it had worked. A small smile in response, he moved towards you, hand wrapping around your forearm to pull you back to him. “Y/N,” he spoke slowly this time, no jesting or teasing in his tone. “You are a great many things, but a good liar is not one of them.”

“Excuse you?” you scoffed back a laugh. “I’m a great liar!”

“Not with me, you’re not,” he countered quickly. He had a point. On any mission you could play your part perfectly, but something about his goofy, sarcastic nature that was so simply him had you unable to pretend or hold back. He had cut through your defences without even trying to, making you laugh when you had meant to be serious, helping you relax when you thought you never could again. It was a big part of what had pulled you together in the first place.

“Alright, maybe not with you. But I won’t have you dissing my undercover skills thank you!”

“You’re good under the covers, huh?” he replied before having even a chance to think. Laughter spilled from his lips at the slip, his eyes shining with mirth as his other hand went to your other arm. He expected a witty retort, your usual playful responses to his seemingly endless slew of innuendos. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know’ or ‘Say the word and you’ll find out’. What he didn’t expect was to feel you instantly tense at the words, pulling away from his touch as your frown returned at full force.

His laughter quickly faded as he took in your displeased features once more. “Wait, is this because I interrupted you and Nat? I thought it would make you laugh, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, I can go get her back if you want…” he rambled, awkwardly pointing over his shoulders towards the doorway he had entered and Natasha had promptly left out of.

“It’s not that, Scott,” you sighed, knowing there was no way of truly getting out of this. Perhaps it was best that you did talk about it, after all, silence certainly wasn’t helping the situation, and you were getting so desperate and worried that you had genuinely considered simply turning up at his door in only a dressing gown and lingerie. But talking about it meant coming to an actual conclusion, learning what he was thinking, finding out why on earth things were going so slowly. You weren’t entirely certain you wanted that.

What if he wasn’t attracted to you physically? What if he was still in love with Hope? What if you were reading far too much into his dates and flirtations and he was simply looking for someone to have fun mucking around with?

“Hey,” he spoke softly, using that reassuring tone you had only ever heard him use with Cassie before. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be alright, you know that, right?”

With a sigh, you rubbed at your arm where his hand had just been, somehow both missing the touch and incredibly thankful that you didn’t have to feel it as your guilt crept up on you. “You just, you caught us in the middle of an awkward conversation, that’s all.”

“About disco songs?” he questioned with a furrowed brow, his mind going back to what he had walked in on. You could practically see his mind whirling as he struggled to remember what had even prompted his raucous entry, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction as he finally caught the word that had prompted him. “Wait, no, action, like on the field? Are you going on a mission? Is everything ok? Do you want me to come with you?”

A small smile broke through you at his train of thought, touched by the worry even though he was still miles from the actual topic at hand. “Not that kind of action, Scotty.”

“Wha-oh, OH! Oh you mean, like, you and- I mean- you know- with the-” Scott began to scramble for words, drawing your smile upwards despite the seriousness of the conversation at hand.

“It’s ok, Scott, really. It doesn’t matter, we were just, you know, having girl talk, I guess,” you spoke in what you hoped was a reassuring tone, not wanting to completely freak him out as he seemed on the edge already.

“But we haven’t- wait, how can you talk about, you know, getting any action, if we haven’t-” he trailed off once more, completely oblivious to your attempts to sooth the situation.

“Actually, that’s kind of what we were saying… Nat commented about me needing to get some and well, yeah, that’s where you walked in, pretty much,” you explained, your cheeks darkening yet again; a state you were starting to think might be permanent soon if this went on much longer.

Scott’s brows furrowed deeply at that, clearly in deep thought as he considered your words carefully. “I’m screwing things up, aren’t I?” he spoke so softly you almost didn’t hear it. His tone was defeated, as if he had suddenly realised everything he thought was going so well was in fact falling apart at his feet.

“What? No of course not!” you reassured quickly. “I just- It’s been months and, you know, I just didn’t really picture you as the type to go slow with this kind of stuff, I guess.”

“I’m not,” he huffed a laugh, his tone still down as he glanced up at you briefly. “I mean, usually I’m not. I- I rush things, and then they go to hell and I just figured. I didn’t want this to go like that, I figured I’d try and be more patient, more like Cap, you know?”

“Wait, so you were holding off to be like Steve?” you repeated incredulously, any fears you had instantly replaced by utter bemusement at the very thought. Sure, you knew Scott admired the captain, hell, who didn’t? But they were so different, and as classically handsome and kind as Steve was, he wasn’t the one who made you smile when you were down, he wasn’t the one who showed time and again how much love and care he held within him, and he certainly wasn’t the one who had made you snort with laughter on more than one occasion. “Scott, if I wanted someone like Steve I’d bloody ask him out, not you!”

“So, you’re saying I don’t need to be holding back on this stuff?” he spoke slowly, a mixture of excitement and irritation at himself pulling at his features in an amusing show of emotions.

“Hell no!”

With a glance around the room you noticed the one spot that was not packed with people, a small space in front of a modern abstract piece of work that practically screamed colours. Curiosity mixed with a need for space and you found yourself drawn towards the painting, head tilting in an attempt to try and understand what it was meant to display. As far as you could tell it was simply bright colours dripping down onto a black background, gorgeous, but completely unbeknownst in it’s message.

“You like it?” a voice called from behind you. An arm wrapped around your middle as he closed in on you, offering you a glass of champagne before making itself at home on your waist, the simple possessive action it had clung to all evening.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, leaning back into Tony’s hold as you considered it further. “I mean I like it, but I don’t think I get it, you know?”

“The dark background tells of how the world is filled with badness and tragedy,” he began in that tone that told you he was trying hard to impress you, causing you to bite your lips to hide your mirth. “The explosion of colour shows that happiness can still be found, that even in the darkness there is light.”

“Is that so?” you ask, your tone edging on teasing as you finally turn to look at your boyfriend with a raised brow.

“You learn to understand all this stuff after time,” he shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance.

“Funny, because this,” you stopped to point to the little plaque your body had been unintentionally hiding from him, “says that it’s a show of how the rain can provide so much to so many despite most complaining about it making them wet.”

Tony’s smirk faltered for the slightest of moments, and you could practically see him trying to explain away how his interpretation still fit. But before he could utter a word you had turned in his hold, placing a finger against his lips to stop what was sure to be a wonderful argument in his defence. “Admit it, you were trying to impress me, weren’t you?”

A smile played on his lips at that, no longer embarrassed at the fact as it was an all too common occurrence. “And what if I was?” he muttered against your finger, pressing a chaste kiss to the digit as he waited your response.

“Pop art!” She cheered victoriously, holding out the paper for you to see. With a curious glance at Sam you took the paper, laughing instantly as you unfolded it to see the immaculate drawing it held. A perfect rendering of your daughter drawn in ballpoint pen greeted you, and you instantly knew where it had come from.

Showing the picture to Sam, you had to bite your lip to hold back the laughter that was bubbling inside you as he furrowed his brows at the sight, trying to figure out how the sketch could be considered ‘pop art’. “Not pop art, babe, Pop art,” you explained softly, watching as his confusion turned from the drawing to you and then- oh, there it was, realisation as clear as day.

“And just where is Pop?” He asked the wiggling girl in his arms, as he rolled his eyes towards you, knowing neither of you would ever succeed at getting rid of the nickname.

“Pop said he was gonna find Ant and Uncle Bucky!” She spoke with careful consideration, as if not wanting to get a single word wrong.

Sam’s face fell instantly, knowing all too well what mischief your eldest child and Bucky could get up to if left alone, but you couldn’t help but laugh. There was something so utterly domestic about the idea that Bucky might be leading him into mischief, so far removed from the problems you both faced at work.