I hope you find this worthy of reading, if you do, review, favorite, and maybe lurk around so you can see updates to this lovely story. Thanks for reading.

Please feel free to tell me if you find any errors.

-EndlessReflections

Disclaimer- I don't own any characters from this story, or any ideas. (Except my own.)

Warnings- Drinking, slight drug use, swearing are all in the upcoming fanfiction. If you can't handle this, please put your seat belt on and have someone direct you to the lighter stories. There also will be males kissing males in future chapters, and if you don't like this, please do as what has been said above. Enjoy.

Sleepless Nights

Chapter One: Warning Signs.

Tony Stark wasn't prone to perfection, but he had always worked anything, and everything out in the end. Nothing starts out perfect, rather it had been trial and error for him. Trial and error for what foods he'd like, or what people he had distaste for. However it seemed he couldn't perfect one thing.

Himself.

The women, the alcohol, the so-called recreation-drug use.

The yelling, the silent screams when he thinks no one is around.

Nothing worked for him. Had he wanted to become a metal man? No. The sight of the faint blue glow underneath his shirts was enough to make him swallow his pride, and sink farther into his darkness from whatever new sorrow he had gained from his day. As odd as it might seem, Tony wasn't the type to be depressed. Not at all, but then again, most people thought the day he woke up attached to a car battery had become a distant memory to him. In actuality, it was far from it. Almost every night, his head filled with those thoughts, of what could have been, and how lucky he was. After all of his self torturing dreams, his mind had finally became foggy over time. Sadly, the word lucky had also became foggy to him, and had lost its meaning, it had somehow had slowly mutated into a laughing reminder of what he had become.

A freak.

That's all he thought of himself these days. All sense of human self-preservation had long gone. His life hadn't mattered to himself anymore. He didn't have any humanly glow in him. Well, except for that damn magnet. As much as he hated the thing, it was the only thing about him that seemed to be at a functional level. Without it, where would he be? Dead, but somehow that word wasn't as unappealing to Stark as it should have been. Even death had lost its meaning.

What was left then?

Pepper?

Pepper had been a one hit wonder, adrenaline was the cause. But oddly, nothing had been effected, Tony hadn't taken it badly. He supposed that he too was just affected by adrenaline, and false hope to fill whatever void he had. Pepper didn't fill that void. Nothing did.

But something did glue him back together.

Crystal clear, and his new love. Vodka. However he did have the habit of cheating on his loved ones. If he ran out of vodka, he'd go for his scotch stash. His habit was hidden. A shower, a few trash bags, five or more breath mints and he'd be golden. No one was the wiser.

Except for a red, white, and blue type of hero.

Why?

Things hadn't gone well on their last mission, it seems that Tony took a tumble for the worst, his eyes were glazed over, and had a faraway look to them. This hadn't gone unnoticed. The other Avengers had set Steve to look after him, and take Tony back to Bruces lab, for a full body scan. Somehow Tony's suit had a malfunction, due to carelessness on Tonys part. Steve had fulfilled his job, with no doubt Tony was upset. There hadn't been any signs that Tony was even alive, all he did was stare into space. Steve would have guess Tony had died on their way there, if it weren't for the fact that Steve could hear breathing. The hero tried to make Tony react, and take part in some type of human contact. Alas, the plan backfired. The man of Iron did react, just not like Steve had wanted. He had tried to convince Steve that he was alright, and that if anything really was wrong JARVIS would have noticed already. The arguing had led to both of them storming out.

Tony running from Steve.

Steve running towards Tony.

The chase ended at the Tony's house. The rebuilt version of it anyways. Tony's lack of caring had not only spread to himself, but anything else related to him. Which didn't exclude his living arrangement.

Steve had walked in the door, the first thing his eyes locked onto was a defeated figure slouched on the couch clutching a glass of scotch.

As he moved closer, the sadness in the other's face became deadly clear.

"Tony?" The Avenger's hand reached out to the other male's shoulder.

Not getting a reply, Steve repeated his fail attempt.

"Tony? Hey, I just came because...I'm sorry...I, didn't mean to lash out like tha-"

"Stop it." A rather slurred, but strong voice spout out.

Steve's hand was shoved away, while the figure sat up, spun around and finished his drink all in one swift motion.

"Tony, you're drunk." There was a sigh, strangely from both men.

"I'm, not, not drunk. I'm topped. There is a difference, you know." Tony reached down and refilled his cup, half way.

"...Tony...What happened? Why are...is...everything different about you now?"

A snicker.

Tony had snickered at what Steve had said.

"Now?" Tony threw back another mouthful of whatever poison he had poured himself, but soon resumed talking, leaving no space for the captain.

"Now? I think the word you're looking for, is always. Well, at least after I became mother nature's most hated. Although I suppose she wouldn't hate me that much, if I'm still alive right now. Unless it's a type of torture, if that's the case, I think she's doing a fair job, don't you captain?"

Tony reached for an unlabeled bottle, and didn't bother pouring it this time. He was having enough trouble standing up straight, and pouring it would just waste the whole bottle.

"I...I don't think anyone is trying to hurt you Tony. I just want to make sure you're alright..."

"Oh, yes. Yes I am. You know why? I'm Tony Stark. The bored billionaire who's gotten so much attention for being a hero."

"Ton-"

"As if. I'm a hero? They'd dissect me in a minute if they could."

"Tony..."

"People. You'd expec-"

"Tony!"

Steve grabbed the now-almost-empty bottle from Stark's hand, and placed it down on the table.

"Tony, take a break. You're drinking too much."

This was followed by a scoff.

"Hah. Too much?"

Tony swiped the bottle, and finished it in one inhumanly large gulp before speaking up, in a tone lower than a whisper.

"Trust me. This isn't too much. You got here during the previews, the real show is about to happen. Or would have."

His hand weakened it's grip, which sent glass shards flying everywhere. The billionaire flopped down onto the couch, legs stretched, covering the whole seating area. Face buried in the seat cushion and back cushion.

"Tony...What happened?"

The captain move closer, while silently making motions with his feet, trying to rid his path of shards.

"Tony...Answer me..."

Steve's hand again rested on Tony's shoulder.

"Ton-"

"Shut up already!" His voice not loud enough to scare anyone, but would have been if it weren't muffled.

"Look, I just want to he-"

"Help. I know. Now get out."

Tony seemed to be leaning into the captains touch, doubting his own words.

"No. Not until you tell me what has you so upset."

"Please...Just leave..."

"Ton-"

Steve's voice cut off, at the shock of his hand being knocked away. The captain took this as a type of way as saying, get out. Minus the harsh words and argument.

"Yeah, okay... But if you need anything, you have my number. Alright?"

The captain waited a few seconds before sighing. No reply. As he walked through the door, he felt his stomach turn uneasy. As he closed the door he realized his stomach was numb. It was his heart that was in pain.

It had been three painfully empty days. No threats on the earth, no aliens, not even any major natural disasters. Not that Steve wished destruction on the earth. No, he loved life. He just needed any, or everything to help keep his mind off the sight of three days ago. Tony, drunk while stumbling around. Steve couldn't bring himself to forget, or try to confront Tony.

Why had Tony been so sad?

So depressed.

The hero's mind flooded with uncompleted thoughts. His brain fought against him, making him uneasy at every moment. At least until he received a call.

Tony?

No.

The team.

A scientist of some sort had built a war machine. Of course. Steve wasn't surprised, this had happened times, and times before.

Thor was guarding Tony, as he reprogrammed the core of the device. Bruce was walking around the perimeter, making sure nothing got in. Or out. The others were on the roof, scouting out any dangers. Everything was going as planned. People were happy, well as happy as you could be while standing near an explosive, and not at all stable power source. It seemed they dealt with lots of those nowadays. People really had no idea how to make a safe world war machine, which is why the team had to save the scientist from himself.

However it seems Tony had other things on his mind. He hadn't gotten close to fixing it, Bruce had been the person to notice this problem. Instead of fixing it, Bruce decided they hadn't had much time left, so he had quickly thrown together some type of light shield around the nuclear explosive. This plan had worked, but at the end of the day Bruce still hadn't forgotten about the Tony mishap. He had questioned Tony, but the only results he received were lies. Believable lies. There was no way Tony was going to let anyone know who he really was. Or what he really felt.

Tony had gone home, but not before reassuring everyone he was fine. Everyone said their goodbyes, and spread out their separate ways. Everyone but Captain America, he had the idea to follow Tony home again. Except this time with more secrecy, without all the yelling.

Steve had waited a few blocks away, not wanting to be seen. After twenty minutes he declared it was safe.

Either Tony would be too drunk to know Steve was there, or he had gone to bed. Easy enough.

Steve slowly creeped open the door, eyes scanning every way. However his eyes didn't meet any type of moving figure. He sighed before slowly moved about the dim room.

"Tony?"

He took a deep breath in.

"Tony? Are you here?"

No reply.

"Um...J-JARVIS?"

A slight pause before another voice had picked up.

"Yes? How may I help you sir?"

An awkward groan came from the soldier's mouth.

"Yes. Well...Could you please tell me where Tony might be?"

"He has been laying behind the couch for quite some time. Although his vitals seem to be fine, I can't seem to get any responce out of him."

Steve rushed to the edge of the couch as he let out a strained gasp.

"JA-JARVIS! Lights!"

His eyes widened at the sight of Tony laying beside a puddle of his own vomit, bottles, and glasses surrounded him. The brunette's hair matted down by what seemed to be liters of sweat. The blond leaned down and shook the other man until he lost his will. His mind at a loss, he did the only thing that seemed logical to him at that moment. Try to communicate.

"Tony?...Tony...Wake up...Please!"

Sorry if the characters were out of character...It wasn't my intention.

-EndlessReflections