Tony jogged down the hall to catch up to Rogers. "Hey, uh, Rogers." Tony pushed his falling hair from his eyes. "Uh, have you seen Natasha?" Rogers raised a disapproving eyebrow. "I owe her an apology."

     Rogers peered down at him for a moment. Tony could almost see the physical weight shifting of the guy's face when he acquiesced. "She's showering. Bathroom on the right."

     Tony nodded, his face breaking into an uneasy smile. Rogers turned to walk downstairs. Tony's smile dropped, his body curling slightly in a vain attempt to preserve his waning energy. He dug his nails into his palms as he walked down the hall. Just when he had propped himself against the wall, he heard the water turn off and the shower curtain pull back. Tony's fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the wall. 

     Natasha came out with her red hair dripping and plastered to her face. Wet spots littered her loose black shirt. Tony bit his lip. Natasha flicked her wet hair. "Tony," she said. Tony pressed his back against the wall. She was so mad. He tried to stutter out an apology but she stepped forward, shushing him with her finger. "Breathe and use your words."

     Tony flushed faintly. "I-I-I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wasn't trying to offend you." Tony made a vague gesture with his hands. "I was trying to make a...a..." 

     "Snowball," she added. Tony nodded shamefully. "You couldn't make a snowball."

     Tony dug his nails deeper into his skin to avoid lashing out. "Yeah, yeah. The genius couldn't make a simple snowball. You can laugh."

     Natasha put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not going to laugh. It's perfectly all right to not be able to make a snowball. But," Tony winced when she smacked him upside the head, "the next time you bring me into one of your spats I won't hesitate to punch you so hard in your throat you will never breathe straight again."

     Tony gulped with a nod. Natasha raised an eyebrow then continued to dry her hair. Tony sank to the ground when she disappeared into the bedroom. He stared vacantly at his knees, hand hovering over his neck. He tried to clear his throat to get rid of the obstruction blocking his airway but all that came out was a weak cough. Tony tried to shake off the warning - after all he was the one who insulted her - with all the power he didn't have, his body trembling in it's fight to push back the memories traveling up his neural pathways. Tony slapped a hand to his mouth to suppress his surprise when two fingers snapped in front of his eyes. 

     "God, Barnes. You know how to scare a guy," he said a little breathlessly.

     Barnes narrowed his eyes slightly. "Sarah was calling. It's time for dinner."

     Before Tony could get a word in edgewise Barnes was leaving. Tony wrinkled his nose at the sight of the darkening sky. His butt ached from sitting on the floor for longer than he planned, his back popping when he stood. Tony rubbed his eyes on his way down the stairs. His sock-clad feet jerked out from under him and a cry bubbled up in his throat. Tony yelped when his wrist was grabbed and his body was twisted around, a pained grunt sounding by his ear. Tony laid stock still to catch his breath. His fingers were digging into the soft cloth of a blue shirt and his head was being pressed into the crook on someone's neck. It smelt like sweat and nutmeg. 

     Tony pushed himself up slowly. He started to scramble back when he realized that he'd fallen on Barnes of all people when another pained grunt was released. Tony furrowed his brow as he leaned forward. "Barnes?" He poked his hard chest. "Barnes, are you okay?"

     "Just peachy, sunshine," he growled. His head thumped against the floor softly. "Get off. You're heavy."

      Tony blushed as he quickly climbed off of him. His foot hit Barnes's prosthetic in his quick scramble to get off. His eyes widened. "Oh, I-I'm so sorry, Barnes. I didn't mean...didn't..." Tony sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the metal arm. His hand hovered over it reverently, the metal limb bent at an odd angle. Tony tilted his head, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. He couldn't apologize enough. "Oh, shit," he mumbled. Tony looked up when hurried footsteps sounded. Tony tried to stand but his legs had turned to jelly. "Oh, shit."

     He shook Barnes roughly, trying to make him get up. It looked much worse with Tony towering over him. Barnes sneered at him when he hit his shoulder. "What the hell!" Rogers shouted.

     Tony jumped back, hands coming up defensively at the sight of Rogers. "I didn't mean to, Rogers. It was an accident. I slipped on the stairs and he caught me."

     "Bullshit," Rogers snapped. 

     Tony frowned. "Ask Barnes if you don't believe me."

     Tony backed away when Rogers came to inspect his friend. Barnes sat up stiffly with the help of Rogers. Tony picked at his nails silently. Rogers's eyebrow twitched. "Was it an accident?"

     "I told you-"

     "Buck, was it an accident?" Steve cut in. 

     Barnes knitted his brow. "Was what an..." His grey eyes finally landed on the bent metal. Tony felt his heart clench at the emotion swirling in Barnes's eyes. He flinched when Barnes dragged his stare to him. "Yes. He slipped," he deadpanned. He returned his gaze to his arm. "It was an accident."

     Tony felt sick to his stomach; with relief or guilt, he couldn't tell. Rogers helped Barnes to his feet and led him toward the stairs. "Tell my ma Buck and I are going to miss dinner."

     Tony looked around to see who he was talking to. Realizing it was him he flushed and said, "Okay." Tony watched the two stumble up the stairs. Tony looked to the top step. "S-Sorry, Barnes," he whispered. 

     Tony collapsed onto the bottom step with his head in his hands. Pressure built up in his chest until he couldn't ignore it any longer. He took a trembling breath to stop the bubbling sobs. He couldn't cry here. It was too open; there was no telling who'd walk in on him. He'd had plenty of accidents before but never one that rendered someone as stoic as Barnes to near tears. Something painful twisted around Tony's stomach at the thought of the boy's glistening eyes. The only thing keeping him here was the deal he'd made with Bruce. Two days. Then everything would go back to normal and Tony wouldn't need to deal with whatever had spurred their change of heart. 

     "Tony." Natasha leaned against the wall. "What are you doing?"

     "Wallowing," he replied. "Natasha, I messed up." Tony laughed weakly in an attempt of self-deprecation. "I messed up bad."

     Natasha pushed herself off the wall to join him. "What did you do?"

     "What didn't I do?" He sobered up quickly, not in the mood to entertain his sass. "I broke Barnes's arm."

     He looked up to see her reaction. His heart stopped beating in his ears at the sight of her usual blank face. Sometimes he wondered if she challenged Barnes's to a straight face contest. Natasha linked her hands behind her head. "How?"

     "I slipped on the stairs and he caught me. I don't know why," he muttered. "He doesn't like me. If I were him, I would've let me fall. Especially after what I said to you."

     Natasha looked at the peach-colored paint on the walls. "That's in the past. But you're correct in thinking you messed up. It seems you have a dilemma."

     Tony covered his face. "This is more than a simple dilemma. A dilemma is having the wrong numbers for your robot. This is so much worse and I-I'm so sorry, Natasha. I swear I'm trying. It's just that everything I do seems to screw things up more." Tony smiled cynically. "Then everything can go back to normal."

     Natasha hummed. "How are you going to fix it?"

     Tony blinked. "What?" he said dumbly. 

     "You need to fix it or else they will never forgive you."

     Tony turned to face her. "What's wrong with you? Why are you pushing this so hard?"

     "Pushing what?"

     Tony rolled his eyes. "C'mon, don't play dumb. I know you're a damn lot more intuitive than that. Why do you want us to be friends so bad?"

     "I told you that you're a mystery I want to solve."

     "Uh, huh. But why do I need to be friends with them for you to do it? Why don't you just follow me home or something? I'm sure you could do it what with this special agent persona you've got going on."

     "I don't have time to follow you home," she replied. 

     It was a weak lie and he knew it, she knew it too. Tony crossed his arms. "If you're going to lie stop making it so obvious. And stop wasting my time. If I'm such a damn mystery why didn't you stay home to solve it? Your stories are contradicting, Romanoff."

     Natasha cocked her head. "You need friends."

     Tony scoffed. "I have friends."

     Natasha narrowed her eyes. "Now who is making obvious lies." Tony turned away from her. "Look, I invited you here to help you make friends. I've found that they can be helpful at times."

     "I told you I have friends."

     "Then you do not have good ones. If you did, would you look so miserable every day? Would you dread waking up every morning to find out you're still stuck here?" Tony frowned. "The people you call your friends have not been taking care of you, Tony. I can see it with my special agent ways."

     Tony tried to regain control. "I can take care of myself."

     Natasha nodded. "I know, but I've learned it's nice to have some help."

     Tony balled his hands. "Well no one wants to help!" he blurted. Anger boiled over in his veins. "No one wants to be around Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, and a certified genius. All they care about is what they want from me. Test answers, lab partner, expensive gifts, food, a cheap punching bag, a floozy who willing to hook up with anything that walks," he added in a near hiss. "Because Tony has money. Tony went to college. Tony won't go to the teachers. Tony can take a punch. I'm nothing to you and I'm nothing to them. But at least they don't try to get my hopes up with bull friendship tactics."

     Tony's glare crumpled when Natasha touched his shoulder. "We want to help, Tony. All of us." 

     "Stop it," he rasped. 

     Tony trembled beside her, hugging himself tightly as she spoke to him. "I apologize it's taken someone so long to notice how much trouble you're in, but we're here now. We want to help you." Tony shook his head hard to stop the thoughts bouncing around in his brain. "I know what you're thinking. It's not a trick. I don't want money or gifts or answers to the history final. I just want you, Tony Stark, to know you've got three people in your corner who like you for you. And three more pending. You know, I think you'll sway them with your charms," she teased. 

     Tony snorted weakly. Natasha kissed his cheek. "We like you Tony Stark. And even when the mystery is over, we're going to like you." She headed toward the kitchen. "Should I tell Sarah none of you are coming to dinner?"

     Tony jerked when he brought himself out of his head. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Do that. I'm not very hungry."

     The greens in Natasha's eyes swirled. "If we're going to do the friendship thing you can't lie to me, Tony," she taunted. 

     Tony gaped at her back until it disappeared around the corner. He hoisted himself to his feet, his eyes flicking up the stairs. He just wanted to lie down and forget all of this happened but he didn't want to disturb Bucky after being the cause of his messed up arm. An idea floated into Tony's mind against his will. He tried to stomp down on it but it popped back up like a spring daisy. He thumbed the smooth screen of his phone until he gathered enough nerve to try to call her. 

     Tony bit his lip as the phone rang. "Hey, Pep," he breathed. He prayed to the satellites that whatever turn of fate this was, lasted long enough to keep up three bars. "I need you to ship me something. Oh, and make it overnight. I need this as fast as possible."

-----

     Tony watched the stars wink in the sky. He tossed on his sleeping bag, yanking down his hoodie. The same hoodie he's worn since he got here. He couldn't wait for the package to arrive. Tony tensed at the sound of hushed whispers. He tried to peek over his shoulder to see what they were doing but he only managed to make his eyes hurt from the strain. Tony bit his lip harshly, grimacing at the copper taste of blood. 

     "Tony, get up," Bruce hissed. "Tony, are you awake?"

     "If he's not awake then wake him up, Bruce."

     "Yeah but he looks like he could use the sleep."

     "I could," Tony murmured. He sat up tiredly. "But if we're sneaking out I'm all for it."

     Natasha nodded at him. He picked himself off the ground. "Good. You're up. Get your boots on and come out the back door."

     Tony followed them down the stairs, jumping when Rogers warned him about the creaky step. He stepped over it, catching Barnes's eye. His eye landed on the knotted sleeve of his jacket. Tony almost fell down the stairs again. His gut twisted painfully as he laced up his boots. He hurried to catch up with Bruce. "Hey, where's the big guy?"

     "Who? Thor? Oh, we can't wake him up. No matter how hard we try."

     Tony glanced back at the house with a hum. His boots crunched the snow and he shivered at the gust of wind. "Why are we sneaking out again? Don't tell me there's a club in town. I might actually enjoy this place."

     Bruce rolled his eyes. "No. We're going to the lake."

     Tony's steps stuttered. He was glad the snow was thick or else Bruce would've been able to tell how surprised he was. Or maybe not. Tony stuffed his hands into his pockets. "The lake? Are we skinny dipping or something?"

     Steve turned and walked backward. "No, Stark. It's too cold for that anyway. We always sneak out to the lake before Christmas. It's tradition."

     Tony shivered. "Okay. Well, what are we going to do?"

     Bruce grinned. "You'll see."

     Tony watched the five of them break into a run, weaving in and out of the treeline. He pushed his hands deeper into his hoodie with his eyes trained on their footprints. He sniffled softly. He hoped he wasn't getting sick. Tony fought to keep himself from gaping around the small alcove that opened to the lake. He placed a palm on the rough bark of a pine to catch his breath. The snow was thinner by the lakeside. Tony didn't have to worry too much about his hoodie getting wet as he propped himself against a tree. His eyes flicked to the circle of rocks before following the five to the lake. 

     He inhaled sharply when Steve stepped onto the ice. His voice caught when he pushed himself off the bank and farther into the middle. Tony held his breath in a vain attempt for everything to stay still. He held his head in his hands when Steve eased himself back to the bank. His face broke into a grin that made Tony's gut relax. The ice was safe. They weren't going to fall in. Tony averted his gaze. Hopefully, he thought.

     Natasha and Bruce dropped a bundle of sticks into the circle of rocks. Tony flinched when she opened a lighter. When the flames caught, the firepit began to crackle in the silent forest. Tony warily watched Bruce keep an eye on the fire. Natasha glided across the lake like a Gerridae. Tony watched them laugh with something akin to longing. The fire cracked like a whip in his ears and he jumped. Bruce held his hands close to the heat as he stamped his feet. His eyes fell on Tony with a smile. "Least favorite part about this is the cold."

     Tony chuckled uneasily. "Yeah," his eyes followed the blaze, "me too."

     His head snapped to the side at the guttural sound the ice produced. Tony hopped to his feet. The five shared a look and scrambled to get off the ice. The ice was silent when they crashed into the bank, clutching their bellies as they laughed. Tony scoffed and placed his hands under his arms. Bruce pulled a package out of Steve's backpack. "S'mores?"

     "S'mores!" Clint cried. He raced over to the campfire, tripping over his feet in the snow. 

     Natasha rolled her eyes. "Child," she teased. 

     Steve shook his head fondly. His eyes landed on Tony a ways away from the fire. He gestured to the others behind him. "S'more?"

     Tony bit his lip. His eyes flicked to the fire on their own accord. "No," he muttered absently. "Thanks though."

     Clint tilted his head. "No to s'mores. And I thought I'd seen everything."

     Barnes sat beside the fire with Natasha. Bruce covered his face from the heat. "C'mon, Tony. It tastes good!"

     The fire crackled, winding Tony's nerves tighter. The ice settled and he felt the wetness of the snow on his hands. He shook his head to dislodge the thoughts. "I'm good," he replied. 

     Clint looked up from his stick. "What? A Stark can't make a s'more?"

     Tony flushed, balling his hands. A response was on the tip of his tongue, ready to be fired, when Natasha laughed. "Clint, your marshmallow is on fire."

     On instinct he flailed. Who wouldn't flail when they're told something they're holding is on fire? And even though he was far away, the sight of the burning marshmallow blurring in the air and the sound of the ice cracking made Tony flinch violently. He dropped to the ground with his hands over his head. His body jerked on the ground, trying to get away from ghosts. Fire. 

     He was thrashing in someone's hold, spewing insults as tears threatened to escape. A red light blinked in his peripheral. He was about to shout at the camera when the world morphed into bright red. His shrieks died in his throat, blocked back by the smoke trapped in his lungs. He tried to cough but every movement sent more fire which produced more smoke. 

     Calloused hands touched his body, their heat lingering on his chest. He screamed in pain as their fingertips grew scorching. The smell of burning flesh traveled up his nose until he was fighting the urge to puke. Nails the temperature of hot coals raked down his chest, leaving him breathless. 

     Then he felt cold. Tony blinked slowly. And wet. He raised his cheek out of the snow, wiping the water off of his flushed skin. He held a hand over his mouth until the feeling of puking subsided. He blinked up at Bruce. The boy's face was marred with worry, eyes wide and raw with emotion. Tony leaned away from him. "What?" he asked, soft.

     Bruce pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Tony pushed him off quickly. It was too hot for that. He was sweating through his hoodie. Bruce sighed. "What the hell was that, Tony? You scared us half to death!"

     "I-" 

     Natasha wiped her hands in the snow. "We should head back. It's getting late."

     Rogers tore his eyes away from Tony. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go back."

     Tony averted his gaze. An apology was sitting on his tongue but he swallowed it down. He followed the footprints back to Rogers's house. Tony smiled softly at the sight of a package. He looked back before scooping it up. He left his boots by the door and raced to the bathroom. He leaned against the door with a sigh. Tony unzipped the duffel bag and nearly shouted with joy. He had clothes! After a lengthy lecture from Pepper and some embarrassing groveling, she agreed to mail him clothes and his lab work. 

     He pressed the fabric to his face. "Finally," he whispered. Tony put the duffel in the corner and reached into the shower. After a few awkward seconds, he figured out how to turn on the shower. He was a genius, after all. Tony sighed under the spray, exhaustion from his episode settling over him. He leaned his head against the tile. "Finally."