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January 3, 1985
Tony closed the door of the cab behind him, stifling a weary yawn. There was an icy cold wind blowing and he shivered in his thin sweatshirt, slinging his bag off his shoulder and digging through for his dorm keys. He sniffled as he pawed through the few things he’d collected, telling himself it was from the cold air and not for any other reason.
Christmas had been a nightmare this year. Howard had apparently saved up three months worth of Taking Shit Out On Tony and hadn’t laid off him the entire time. His arm still ached if he tried to raise it above his shoulder.
It had gotten bad enough that Tony had snuck out two days before he was originally due to go back, shoveling clothes and textbooks into his bag and apparently forgetting his jacket entirely. He had stopped only long enough to say goodbye to Jarvis before heading out and catching the last train of the night back to Boston. Where he was now freezing his balls off, growing more and more concerned that he’d left his keys back in New York.
He finally found them in the very bottom of his bag. With a half hearted attempt to shove everything back in his bag he trudged inside and upstairs. He’d been planning to wallow for the next few days, and nearly had a heart attack when he walked in to find the room lit up and Rhodey unpacking a suitcase. Rhodey startled when the door opened, which normally Tony would have found hilarious, but he wasn’t in the mood tonight, half-heartedly returning the grin Rhodey gave him when he realized who it was.
“Hey man, what are you doing here?”
“Uhh.” Tony forced a smile to his face, rubbing at the bruise on his arm and remembering at the last minute not to wince. “Caught an earlier train out.”
Rhodey nodded sagely, turning back to unfolding his underwear or whatever. “Your parents freaking out about the massive storm that’s supposed to be coming too?”
“Something like that,” Tony mumbled. He dropped his bag with a clunk and sat down heavily on the side of his bed. He knew he should be unpacking too, or maybe just get some sleep -- he hadn’t had much of that in the past few days -- but he couldn’t seem to muster the energy to even lie down flat.
“Hey.”
Tony blinked his eyes back open to find Rhodey watching him now, the full weight of his gaze on Tony.
“You alright?”
His eyes were warm, eyebrows knit slightly in concern. He was looking at Tony in that way he had, like he already knew everything about him. He was wearing a t-shirt and Tony’s eyes caught on his biceps, pressing against the sleeves. He knew from experience that Rhodey gave the best hugs, and for a minute he wanted nothing more than to tell Rhodey everything, about his parents, about his dad , about just how terrible his Christmas had been. Wanted Rhodey to give him a hug and tell him it wasn’t his fault, and to know, just once, that he had somebody completely in his corner.
But in the back of his head he could hear Howard’s voice, calling him weak, telling him to be a man. So instead he just forced another smile on his face, doing his best to make it look real, even while he hoped that Rhodey would see through it and call him on it.
“I’m good, man. Just tired.”
**
December 27, 1991
Tony had never really thought about his brain that much. Everyone told him he was a genius, but for a long time Tony hadn’t even realized that he didn’t put things together the normal way, that he could do things in his head that most people could barely manage on paper. It was just the way his brain worked.
Right now though, he really, really hated his genius mind. Hated that he knew immediately, without even having to think about it, that it had been ten days, 11 hours and 47 minutes since his parents had died. He couldn’t stop himself from making the calculation if he tried -- and he had tried. Not even three bottles of his father’s best scotch had been enough to stop him counting.
From far away, Tony heard the doorbell ring, almost immediately classifying the sound as ‘not my problem.’ But then it rang again, and then a third time for even longer, like the person ringing it was holding down on the button, and abruptly Tony remembered that in a fit of irritation he’d sent all the staff home early, just wanting to be alone. It didn’t sound like the ringer was giving up any time soon, and so Tony slid off his bed, where he’d been staring aimlessly up at the ceiling, and started on the fucking journey for the front door, bracing himself for another round of his father’s business associates coming by with their condolences, people he’d have to smile at and play nice with.
Reaching the ornate wooden doors, Tony took a deep breath and pulled them open, blinking at the figure on the other side and feeling his heart climb up into his throat. “Rhodey?” he whispered.
Rhodey looked exhausted, a couple days worth of stubble on his face, but he offered Tony a crooked grin. “Hey Tones. How are you holding up?”
“What…” Abruptly Tony felt his lower lip tremble and scrubbed a hand over his mouth to hide it. “I don’t… How are you here?”
Rhodey shrugged, like it was no big deal that he was here and not thousands of miles away with his shiny new Air Force promotion. “Took some doing, but I managed to get a few days off. Sorry it took me so long to get here.” He arched an eyebrow at Tony. “Gonna invite me in?”
Tony nodded distractedly and took a step back from the door to let him in, feeling his throat catch. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered, afraid if he spoke any louder, his voice would break entirely. Rhodey dropped his bag on the foyer floor and looked at him again, eyes soft and comforting.
“It’s gonna be okay, Tones,” he told him, voice pitched low to match. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but it’s gonna be okay.”
He held his arms open for a hug, and Tony was ready to grab on and possibly never let go when there was the sound of a throat clearing behind him.
“Tony, m’boy!” Obie exclaimed, and Tony let his eyes slide shut. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Tony took a step back from Rhodey, offering a tight smile up at Obie as he made his way down the massive main staircase. He’d always loved his godfather, always appreciated the way he seemed to actually see Tony, didn’t just push him aside. But he’d all but moved in after his parents’ deaths, kept talking about being a man, and how he knew it was hard but the best thing for Tony right now would be to jump into the business, to start making weapons. He seemed to think grieving was unmasculine, somehow, and he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t leave him alone.
Tony couldn’t imagine what his reaction would be if he found Tony hugging a man in the foyer of Stark Mansion.
Offering Rhodey a wince that only he would see, Tony turned away from him completely. “Obie, this is James Rhodes. My roommate from university.”
***
April 7, 1996
Tony blinked up at the sky, watching the stars spin above him. There’d been people here before, warm bodies against him, everything feeling good . But they were gone now, he didn’t know when or where. It was quiet now, too quiet, the sound of his own breaths thundering in his ears as he floated.
Abruptly he realized that he really was floating, lying in a pool of water, and he flailed, splashing and choking and getting water up his nose as he struggled to find a way out.
“Jesus Christ, Tony!”
There were suddenly strong hands wrapped around his forearms, lifting him bodily out of the water and onto the patio around it. “I’m fine! I got it!” he protested, even though a minute ago he very much had not got it. He stayed on his hands and knees, coughing a few times until he was steady enough to roll over and stare up at Rhodey, who was looking down at him with an unsmiling face. “I’m fine,” he said again, more subdued this time.
“Right,” Rhodey drawled. “Says the guy who decided to go swimming in 54 degree weather in his pajamas .”
Tony blinked down at himself, wondering when he’d gotten dressed, and Rhodey gave a long-suffering sigh.
“Christ, you’re shivering,” he muttered. He reached down, hauling Tony easily to his feet, and this time Tony didn’t struggle against him. He loved how deceptively strong Rhodey was. He thought about telling him this, but Rhodey was already manhandling him toward the open doors. “Fuck, what did you even take?” he asked, half to himself. “No, don’t answer, I don’t want to know,” he added. “Let’s just… Get you inside and dried off and warmed up.”
Normally Rhodey taking care of him made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but he could hear the exasperation in his voice, felt hyper aware of how Rhodey’s hands were just a little too rough on his skin. It made something shrivel up inside his stomach, the last of his buzz disappearing entirely. He shivered in ways that had nothing to do with the cold water drying on his skin, going along mutely as Rhodey led him into the bathroom, stripped him methodically out of his dripping clothes and pushing him into a steaming hot shower.
Rhodey was a little gentler when he called Tony back out of the shower, drying him off with a fluffy white towel, quiet and contemplative as he helped him into sweatpants and a t-shirt.
“I’m sorry,” Tony told him when Rhodey handed him a warm mug of tea, and he hated tea, but he still took it without complaint.
Rhodey didn’t answer at first, giving him a wry look and an extra ruffle of his hair that made Tony lean into his touch. “I just… I don’t know why you do this to yourself, Tones,” he told him, and he sounded so disappointed, so sad that Tony wanted to cry.
He didn’t know how to tell him that he had to do it, how to explain that it was the only way he could make his brain just stop , to give him some quiet for just a few minutes. He didn’t know how to admit that he hated this version of himself too, that he wanted to quit this, stop being this person, but didn’t know where to start. He didn’t know how to say that he needed help.
He stared at Rhodey’s arms, wishing he’d wrap him in a hug, tell him it was okay and that they would figure it out. Thought about how nice it would be to have someone in his corner again, someone on his side. Then he lifted his gaze to meet Rhodey’s. “I’m sorry,” he offered again, scratching at the side of his neck.
There was no hug, no warm, comforting hold, just a quick pat on his shoulder.
“Come on, Tony. Let’s get you into bed.”
****
February 13, 2009
Tony shifted uncomfortably, fighting back the urge to grimace as he felt his dress shirt stick to his armpits, the expensive fabric wet with sweat. It was ninety million degrees out here, the sun blazing down on them, and he was stuck wearing a three piece suit, talking up his dad, and knowing Rhodey was mad at him.
He fought the urge to sigh in relief as the cooler opened and he picked up the glass of scotch, icy cold in his hand. Still talking, he caught Rhodey’s eye, holding the glass up to him in a vague approximation of a toast. Rhodey looked away.
The truth was, Tony hated everything about this. All the glad-handing and ass-kissing just made him feel gross. It reminded him of his father and the ‘business meetings’ he used to listen in on as a kid, a bunch of men smoking cigars and drinking too much and making comments about his mother that had made Tony feel all squirmy and sick to his stomach. He hated having to do the same thing now, and hated that a presentation without reference to Howard Stark wasn’t considered a success. He knew he made a good show of it, that he hid the stress that knotted his stomach perfectly. But if he had his way, all of this would be left up to Obie, and Tony would be free to just hide away in his lab and build things.
But he was Tony Stark, and apparently that wasn’t an option.
He was just sliding into the back of the humvee when Rhodey came up, calling his name.
“I’m sorry,” Tony told him, and it was childish, and retaliatory, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “This is the fun-vee. The hum-drum vee is back there.”
He knew Rhodey as well as he knew himself, so he didn’t miss the way Rhodey faltered for just an instant before he told him ‘nice job,’ his face falling as his attempt to make nice was shoved back at him. Tony didn’t know why he was like this, why he constantly had to lash out and hurt the people that he loved the most. Rhodey wasn’t quite looking at him, and for a moment Tony wanted to tell him how sorry he was, to grab his arm and pull him close and hug him tight, and tell him he didn’t mean it, it was this place, and these presentations, and to please just take him home.
But they were in the middle of a military installation, surrounded by high-ranking officers, and Tony could just imagine how well that would go over for both of them. Bye-bye business deal. The apology would have to wait a couple more hours, until they were back at the base and could steal a moment of privacy.
(When the humvee exploded, and Tony was panicking and reached for his phone to text Rhodey, it wasn’t to ask for help, or back up, or a way out. All he could think about was telling him he was sorry.)
*****
May 29, 2010
Tony wasn’t drunk.
He knew he looked like it. He was acting like an absolute asshole, the kind of raging party drunk that he hadn’t been in a very long time, but he was fucking dying , and between the poison slowly seeping through his entire body, and the knowledge that this would be his last birthday ever, it was so easy to let himself fall into the Tony Stark Playboy role, to do what everyone was expecting him. Was it so wrong to want to have a little goddamn fun before he died?
Except that he wasn’t having any fun at all. This wasn’t even how he’d wanted to spend his birthday. He’d wanted to sneak away, find somewhere quiet, just the people he loved around him. If he’d gotten Pepper on board he knew he would have been able to convince Rhodey too. But Pepper had quite reasonably said no, and so a huge birthday blow out it was.
It was probably for the best anyway. If they’d all been together like that, if it was the last time he’d get to just be with them, Tony didn’t know if he would have been able to keep himself from admitting to everything. Of course, now Pepper was absolutely livid with him, but that was probably for the best too.
If he kept pushing them away, kept pissing them off, maybe they’d be less mad at him when he went and died on them.
And then Rhodey was there, in the stolen War Machine armor, furious and gorgeous, and maybe it was the palladium poisoning, or maybe Tony was more drunk than he realized, but he didn’t even notice the room clearing out around them. Something in him softened at the sight of Rhodey, even as angry as he was, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from confessing everything. It would be so easy to just blurt it all out, and then maybe this terrible weight on his chest would go away. Rhodey would understand why he’d been so impossible lately, he’d forgive him, hug him, tell him everything would be okay. And maybe, with help, it actually would be okay. Maybe he didn’t have to die.
And he was definitely more drunk than he’d realized, because then he snorted as his brain caught on the image of Rhodey trying to hug him in the suit, the sound the metal would make as they clanged together, and just like that, the moment was gone.
*
May 4, 2012
They’d made it back to the tower, they’d apprehended Loki and collected the tesseract, and even handled the whole snafu with Alexander Pierce and his wealth of control issues. Tony was on his way to finally try shawarma with his shiny new team -- the term ‘team’ still making him shudder a little -- when there was a loud whine from the sky.
“Oh,” Tony said, immediately recognizing the noise and stopping dead in his tracks. “Oh, no.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rogers -- Steve -- throw him a concerned look, immediately shifting into a defensive mode, but he didn’t have time to explain before War Machine was slamming into the slightly crumpled sidewalk in front of them. Tony pasted on his most reassuring smile as Rhodey straightened back up.
“Hey Honeybear.”
The faceplate snapped open, and wow, Rhodey was pissed .
“Hey Honeybear?” he repeated. “ Hey Honeybear ? That’s all you’ve got to say to me? Are you fucking kidding me, Tones?”
“I love you?” Tony offered, wincing when Rhodey’s nostrils flared.
“What. The. Fuck . No call, no text, no, ‘Hey Rhodes, I know I promised I wouldn’t do this anymore but I’m gonna go fight some goddamn aliens.’ I had to find out on the goddamn news while I was on the other side of the planet .” His fists clenched in the armour. “That was the longest flight of my goddamn life. I had no idea if I was gonna get here in time, no idea if you’d be okay. And then I had to watch you fly through a black hole holding a nuke, and then watch you fall back to the ground, and I didn’t know if I’d get to see you again.” His voice cracked and he looked away a moment, blinking rapidly. “You can’t do this to me, Tones. You promised me you wouldn’t do this anymore. Stop trying to kill get yourself killed! Or at least stop trying to get yourself killed when I’m not there to watch your back. You pull some shit like this again, and I swear to god, I’ll kill you myself. Then I’ll bring you back to life just so I can kick your ass!”
He stopped then, breathing heavy, and Tony felt his throat thicken as they just stared at each other for a long moment. Then Rhodey reached up and actually pulled the emergency release on the armor, letting it fall to pieces around him before he strode the two steps necessary to close the distance between them and wrapped thick arms around Tony’s back, pulling him in for a hug so tight that Tony’s bruised ribs protested. He made a stifled noise that was almost a sob as he let himself go limp in Rhodey’s arms, feeling like he could breathe freely for the first time in days. His arms wrapped hard around Rhodey in return as he finally let go of all the stress, of the fact that he’d gotten closer to death than ever before, and let someone else take the weight for a minute.
“It’s okay, Tones,” Rhodey whispered in his ear, softer now, for only Tony to hear. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, I’m here. We’re gonna be okay.”