p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e

We Need To Talk

"Well, it's six o'clock in the afternoo-wait a minute, you're up already?"

Steve finally looks up from the pan to see an oddly bright-looking Tony. Wrapped in...what appears to be a blanket.

Okay?

Bucky frowns.

"Seems a bit soon to be up...I mean, you just got back from surgery?"

Tony puts in a new filter and scoops the grounds, only to throw it all out and grab the French press from its hiding spot in the cupboard.

"Well, you know, given the lack of caffeinated beverages in the immediate vicinity, I just might go back to bed permanently."

It was a joke. It was a mildly funny joke. But all Tony got was faked chuckles and Steve and Bucky exchanging worried glances.

What do they know?

Bruce I swear to god...

The engineer fills the kettle up with water and waits.

Steve starts talking to Bucky about how to prepare the sauce, and no, that's way too many sesame seeds. All is calm and all feels normal, until someone smacks him in the head from behind.

"Owww-"

"What are you doing up?"

Natasha looks...

Holy shit she's actually angry what the fuck

"I needed-"

"Tony you literally just got out of-"

"Yes, the hospital, I'm aware-can we not talk about that place, please?"

Her gaze softens a little bit. Just a little, not a lot.

It's never a lot.

"Hey Tony. Nat, lay off. You're not his mom."

Natasha rolls her eyes.

"Well it would seem I'm the only one here who's got his best interest in mind!"

"GUYS! I am a grown man! Dear god..." The engineer shouts, flailing his arms in frustration.

"See? Told you." Clint jeers, and plucks a plum out of the fruit bowl.

Natasha makes a face at him and turns back to Tony, her face blanching for a moment, then returning to normal.

"What?" He asks, then realises the shawl has slipped.

Shitshitshit

The engineer pulls it over his neck roughly and walks back over to scoop the grinds into the french press, leaving the spy standing there.

Just a fuckup, I'm just a fuckup

The kettle clicks off and steam shoots from the spout. He picks it up and pours it, then presses the skin of his wrist to the metal, quick and hard.

"Gah..." he whispers, pulling his arm back quickly.

The fuck did I do that for?

Clint looks at him worriedly and meets Tony's eyes, only to bite obnoxiously into his plum.

"JARVIS, timer for five minutes," he tells the ceiling before wrapping the shawl around his shoulders and stepping out onto the balcony, blowing cool air onto his wrist.

Five minutes flew by like the pigeons overhead that occasionally pause to take a shit on the building.

"Sir, your coffee is ready."

"Alright, thanks J."

"And might I say, sir, it is a pleasure to have you back."

"Um...thanks?"

"You're quite welcome."

Okey-dokey then.

He slides the door open and steps inside, and he feels Nat's eyes on his back, following him. Tony pushes the plunger down and fills up a mug from the shelf above his head, subconsciously tugging at the cloth that wrapped 'round his torso. He turns to head back to the balcony, but Natasha stops him.

"Tony? We need to talk."

Oh god.

"Y'know, last time someone said that to me I almost had to hire a divorce lawyer so please-"

Her eyes darken.

"Okay then."

She takes him by the elbow and leads him to the living room, where Rhodes and Thor are both sitting on the couch.

Natasha gestures for him to sit down in a chair in the middle, and she takes the sofa opposite the other two.

Is this a fucking intervention?

They all stare at him.

Be cool, be cool.

Tony just sips his coffee, looking bemused.

"Y'know, I would make an intervention joke but-well, low hanging fruit-and, there's really no intervening that needs to be done."

He smiles assuredly, and the three start doing this weird thing where they talk to each other without talking.

Alright, enough.

"Oh for the love of god, use your words."

Natasha nods, and looks to Rhodey.

"Well, erm....while you were in the OR," he says. Tony sucks in a breath.