Second part

"Tony?"Pulling the covers further up his body, Tony is hiding under the thick covers of his bed, curling into a tighter ball as he hugs the half bottle of vodka to his chest as if it was a life line. The house was a mess, dishes from 2 weeks ago still sitting in the sink, bottles that once contained alcohol littering the floor of the master bedroom and the stench of what Natasha can not put a name to.

Steve wasn't any better, wherever the fuck he was seeing as no one has seen either Steve or Tony for the past 2 weeks. It wasn't as if Tony had no contact with Steve, he knew the man wasn't dead because the endless string of phone calls that ended up in voice mail were evident that he was still breathing and kicking, with endless apologises and pet names to try and butter Tony up.

Fuck this, Tony thinks. He doesn't need this in his life, he shouldn't be so pathetic and be laying in bed crying with the company of alcohol and romantic comedies that make him cry and then just take a bigger swig of vodka or whisky to try and take away the pain in his chest. This shouldn't be like this; Steve should be with him, they should be watching these stupid ass romantic comedies together and be judging the stupidity of them all; it was their thing.

But Steves not here, and Tony doesn't want him here, no matter how much Tony wants to touch Steves warm to feel those big hands on his hips or the soft lips on his skin. He's trying to tell himself that he doesn't fucking need Steve or those big blue eyes of his that shed tears after watching fucking Marley and Me, or those arms that held Tony tight at night like an anchor, grounding Tony and all of his demons.

"Go away."He croaks out, his eyes squeezed shut as if it would take away the agony in his head from all of his crying and a hang over he doesn't want to admit and the pain in his chest where Steve stamped all over his heart."Can't you see I just want to be alone?"He adds quieter.

"You've been alone for 2 weeks, I think it's time for you to have some human interaction."Natasha has that no bullshit air around her as she rips away the thick covers that Tony was drowning himself in. Tony flinches at the harsh light the seeks into the bedroom and in through his closed eyelids. He feels like some sort of drunken vampire.

"Do they not have the phrase 'Go away' in Russian?"He groans, turning so he can curl over the bottle of vodka with his face buried into a pillow and the bottle under his chest. He doesn't want to look as weak and as pathetic in front of his friends, he's supposed to be this big confident asshole who can take over the world with nothing but a devilish smile and a wink. But he's not; not now away. Tony can barely hold onto a marriage, never mind world domination.

""Natasha translates but still making no move to leave the room. Instead, she stands and tuts at the mess that is Tony Stark."Where did you get the alcohol, Tony?"She sounds pissed off and
Why the fuck should be pissed off at Tony? He's the victim here, he's the one in pain and just wants it to go away.

"You're not my mother."Tony grumbles, wincing whenever he's forcefully pushed onto his back and the bottle of vodka is ripped out of his grip. He feels like a baby being taken away from his bottle before it can finish, it's pathetic really.

"I'm going to ask you again,"She sounds sad now, because she is sad to see something as beautiful as Steve and Tony's relationship to to shit so quickly. But she's sad for an entire different reason as well; Tony is crumbling. All of his progress, dragging himself out of that pit of depression and throwing away the alcohol; it was all backtracking back to square one."Where did you get the alcohol?"

"I never threw it away,"He admits, his arms coming round to hug himself into a tight ball for hoe own comfort and a sense of protection. It doesn't help, he fees, vulnerable, he's sacred because he has known nothing more than Steves love and his presence and his help."I-I couldn't bring myself to, I-I need reassurance that it was still there, if I needed it."

"You don't need it."Her voice is stern, setting the bottle down onto the wide table with a loud clank."Tony, you've been doing so good. Sober for 3 years, that's a long time to be sober and now look; you've crumbled...You don't need alcohol."

"Yes I do!"Tony ends up shouting, opening his eyes to reveal how blood shot they are from lack of sleep and too much alcohol, tears in his eyes as he ends up looking at Natasha in desperation."I need it, it numbs me, it settles the pain in my chest and makes the demons in my head shut up just for a little while. I'm in so much pain 'Tash, I just want it to stop."

In that moment, Natasha watches her friend break in front of her eyes. A man that she has known since he was a reckless teenager just looking for trouble and to trample on everyone's 'Pep', who would spend an entire day trying to make anyone he cared short smile or laugh even if they didn't want to. Tony is crumbling, he's slipping.

"I just want Steve,"He hiccups, wiping harshly at his eyes to wipe away he fast falling tears but is unsuccessful with how fast they fall."But at the same time I don't, b-because fuck him. I-I'm so cold without him, without his warmth an-and I should be hating him, and I do be-because he's a fucking asshole, but I Need him..."

~
~
~

Steve is a fucking idiot

Okay he's much more than just an idiot but he's really not in the mood to go through the brightly coloured vocabulary that Phil Coulson and Bruce Banner used towards him. He has heard the word 'Fûck' used in so many different ways that he didn't even think it was possible, and he hopes to god he never hears another swear again.

He's been sleeping in a motel; much a downgrade compared to the home he has been living in during the 10 years of marriage he has had with Tony. He hasn't left the 'comfort' of his motel room and he's sure that the kind lady at the reception desk thinks that he has died, but infact he is still alive, and the awful rank smell coming from his motel room is infact just the left over smell of the late body that did die. Probably.

Steve has no idea how Tony is doing, seeing as no one has seen him for 2 weeks or even heard a peep and no matter how many damn voice mails that Steve leaves; been eve gets a reply. He doesn't expect to, he broke Tony's heart and in the process; their marriage. So he doesn't blame Tony for ignoring him, but that doesn't him from longing for his reply so that he keeps that he's safe and not dying somewhere.

"Tony's in the hospital."Is the words that Steve hears echo through the phone that is cracked and busted from an angry rage of throwing his phone across the motel room. Steve freezes, his hands clinching the first material he can find as a security.

Steve barely has time to listen on why Tony in the hospital before he's dashing out of the motel room at full speed, he's always been strong and he's always been fast, so a run from his motel across the city to the best hospital in New York isn't all that hard; he just needs to give himself that little harder push,

Tony's in trouble, or well, Tony is hurt and there's this nagging little voice in his head that is telling Steve that it's all his fault, that Tony is in his hospital because Steve got angry and paranoid, snuck off to the bar after an argument and slept with some guy. If Steve had just stayed back after the argument, patched things up with Tony then this wouldn't have happened.

Tony wouldn't be hurt

Steve isn't surprised to see that he's the last one to turn up at the hospital, hell, he's even surprised that someone had the decency to phone and inform him of Tony being in the hospital. He spots everyone already waiting in the hallway, either sitting on chairs or leaning against walls as they want for news.

"Where is he?"Steves heavy breathing is what gives him away at first, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. Everyone looks up from needs they stare mindlessly at their coffee cups.

"Getting his stomach pumped and stitches in his arms."Clint informs whenever he realised that no one else is going to reply or speak up."He drank himself into a coma, was found in his workshop in a pool of his own blood and unconscious."

"The doctor thinks he tried to kill himself."Bruce speaks up, his eyes glaring daggers at Steve who feels uncomfortable under the stare. His breath hitches in his throat. Kill himself?

"I had only left for 10 minutes..."Natasha mumbles, closing her eyes tightly in guilt. She had left to take out all of the empty bottles and clear up the house, maybe even get Tony to eat something and sleep for a while. She returned to find him not where he was when she left, and it was only after a frantic search did she find him in his workshop.

"This isn't your fault,"Phil reassures, giving her a quick side hug with a squeeze of her arm.

Yeah, because it's mine, Steves mind screams

I'm gonna do a quick part 3 which I might have done tomorrow I dunno