Never Finish a War Without Starting Another
“Don’t act like this is my fault, Rogers,” spits Tony, tinkering with a random piece of tech to occupy his shaking hands.
“Whose fault is it, then? Stop running away from your responsibilities, Tony! You’re not a child anymore!” Steve exclaims, running a frustrated hand through his blonde hair. “I’m trying to make this work between us, but it’s a little difficult when all you do is avoid me instead of sitting down and talking to me, like an adult. Don’t you love me anymore?”
“Don’t ask me that like you don’t already know the answer, Steve. That isn’t the problem.”
"Then explain it to me!”
"I'm scared, okay?!" yells Tony, slamming the wrench down onto the work bench with a dry sob. He seems just as startled, if not more, than Steve feels at the sudden admission and it stuns them both into a suffocating silence. Finally, Tony turns to look at him with sad eyes and a trembling lower lip, and he whispers, "I'm terrified, Steve.”
Steve feels a wave of anxiousness roll through his body and he gulps reflexively. "Of what?" he murmurs, unable to look away from the crumbling man standing before him.
"Of you."