Steve ran through the sand, eyes focused on the figure sitting near the sea in the distance. He wondered if the figure was still breathing, or if the sand surrounding him would be coloured with red. His heart was pounding out of his chest as he came closer to the figure. He soon recognized the form of a man, a man wearing a hoodie. He was sitting with his knees clenched to his chest, chin resting on his knees. Shattered pieces of glass and the bottom of what once used to be a bottle were lying around him, and so did a small puddle of orange or maybe brown liquid. Steve sniffed in the air, detecting the smell of alcohol and salt. He slowed down when he was only a small distance away from the man, his friend, staring at his back for a moment.

You're still alive. Thank god.

Steve slowly walked over to Tony, and sat down next to him. The smaller man didn't look his way but kept on staring at the now orange turning horizon. Observing his face, Steve noticed that Tony's eyes were small, but puffy and red, surrounded by bags that were black and purple. He was pale like a ghost, his lips were a soft colour of pink, but that was probably the only colour noticeable. Steve then looked down to the brunette's baggy clothes. The pullover that had once fit him perfectly was now loose and crumpled, and so were his jogging pants; he had lost a lot of weight.

He looked down at the gun Tony still held in his hand. Steve slowly moved his arm towards the weapon and grabbed it. He then stared at Tony for a brief moment, but the poor man still didn't show any signs of movement or reaction. The gun was slowly pulled away from Tony's rough, dirty hands. Steve saw the wounds on his swollen knuckles, he saw the enormous blue spot on his wrist, but he didn't say anything, not yet.

The yellow shining sun started rising from the ground. It filled the sky with mighty colours of red and splashed the clouds with endless rays of pink, repelling the darkness and moon.

"I used to watch the sunrise every morning." Steve began, sighing. " I realized as a young boy that the sunrise was tragically beautiful. It reminded me of how I had to enjoy the little things in life, but also how I had to carry on to keep getting to see them." He took of his blue hero helmet and laid it beside him in the sand, continuing his story.

"And... I don't know. Every time I look at the sun, I always think of my biggest accomplishments, but also of the time when I was just a little fragile boy who'd think he couldn't do anything."

Silence.

Tony peers Steve's way, face resolutely unimpressed. "It's funny how you're trying to make up an inspirational story but you're failing so hard."

He chuckled at the blunt response. "Well, I thought it was pretty inspiring."

"You're so awkward Steve."

"You're so broken Tony."

"I know, my luck."

The air felt refrigerated, fortunately less colder than the ice Steve used to live in. Tony's pink lips tinged with blue and gently chattering teeth he wrapped his thin pullover around him tighter. The blonde noticed and silently shoved himself closer to the genius, until their arms were touching.

"You haven't shot yourself."

"I know." He was still overlooking the sea, offering no ongoing conversation of his own.

"You shot the bottle instead."

"I know."

"Why?"

The genius shrugged, inhaling a deep breath. He looked down at his feet. "I don't know."

"You don't want to die." he whispered. "You just want to be saved."

"I can handle myself, thanks." came his reply.

Steve felt frustrating boiling up inside of him. Tony was once again pretending to be okay when he clearly wasn't. He wondered why no one had taken the time to search for the real Tony behind those fancy glasses. Why had nobody tried to fix the man in the suit?

"Even a superhero needs saving sometimes. Even a man who wears a suit protecting himself from all kinds of missiles or weapons, from all kinds of hits can get hurt. The suit..." he paused, thinking. "and neither superpowers can save you from a broken heart."

"I'm not a superhero."

"What are you then?"

"A failure. A fraud. Basically everything that starts with the letter F. A fucktard."

"What about fantastic?"

He swore he could see a small smile appearing his face. "I meant all the negative things pal." Tony said, emphasizing the word 'negative.'

"You're fabulous, fantastic, funny, fascinating. Don't drag yourself down like that." This caught Tony's attention, he turned his head towards him. Steve's heart skipped a beat as he stared in to his black emotionless eyes.

"I'm a monster Steve, we both know it." he murmurs, his wide eyes becoming glossy with tears. He looked away, his head turning towards the sea again. Steve looked away as well. An awkward silence took place as they both stared into the distance of the endless water.

The sea was tainted; it was no longer a pool of blackness, nor did it appear blue. Instead it looked a metallic, shining grey, glistening as the spears of sunlight pierced through the clouds and danced over the surface, creating all sorts of flickering Morse codes.
Steve wanted to convince Tony of how amazing he actually was, how he had invented incredible things that had saved the world, but he just couldn't see it himself. He was so submerged in negative thoughts of guilt and despair that he just couldn't think of the good things he had done.

Maybe, no one had ever told him that he was in fact a good person.

Steve looked over at his friend, eyes watering with worry and pity. He needed someone to tell him that the world needed him, that he was loved.

"Can I hug you?" the blonde asked spontaneously.

"What the hell?"

"Can I hug you?"

Tony shrugged, uninterested in the offer. "Whatever."

Steve leaned in closer and wrapped his strong arms around Tony's fragile body. The hug was awkward, but it somehow brought a sudden peace they both had never known before, it was a calming of the storms in Iron Man's heart and a new experience in Captain America's mind.

"We're not gonna kiss are we?" Tony asked after half a minute, awkwardly distancing his face from the supersoldier.

"Let's just start with a good night's sleep first, you look like a zombie." Steve said, pulling him back again, causing his hoodie to shove off his head, it revealed his messy hair. Steve chuckled.

"Lay down and shut your eyes and mouth Stark. Sleep for goodness sake."

"Why thanks for the compliment Steve. I appreciate it." Tony laid his head on his shoulder, glaring at the supersoldier.

"Sleep Tony. I'll wake you up when you look less dead."

"Fine." he murmured with a tiny sigh.

They both watched as the sun was peeking out of the horizon, its brilliant rays already shined brightly and began to warm the cold air. A soothing breeze of warm air caressed their faces, leaving them both to enjoy the beauty of mother nature.

"Steve?" He kept his face buried in Steve's shoulder, his dark brown tufty hair sticking out behind like he'd just woken up from a long nap. His fingers curled into the fabric of the Captain America suit, not clasping it tightly, but just enough to reassure the blonde he was feeling comfortable and most of all, safe.

"Yes?" he looked at him, only to see that he was half asleep already, his eyes opening at his reply.

"Thanks."

Steve had wanted to ask him for what exactly, but he knew that there would come no respond, and he knew why Tony had thanked him anyway. There was no need to ask. He had saved him, actually saved him. It felt different than saving a civilian, it was heavier than saving an entire floating city; he felt like he had finally accomplished something big, something that had been bugging him and others for a long, long time. Tony had finally let someone in, he had finally expressed his emotions. Who knows for how long he had been wearing that awful mask of lies, laughs and sassiness. Who knows how many times Tony had tried to destroy himself, maybe even without noticing it.

Tony Stark was a broken man. A man whose heart was shattered into a thousand pieces, all was lost in the past and present, but Steve was there to glue him back together, to keep him alive. He'd even go back into the past to collect all the other shards of his broken heart that he had left behind. He'd travel to the future to prevent him from getting hurt, but now, all he could do was support him in the present. All he could do now was to try and keep him together, and although it might get difficult, he'd try.

Steve Rogers was one of the few people who'd really cared about Tony Stark, he was one of the few who'd fly a rocket to the moon and back to make him happy.

He wrapped a strong arm around his friend and smelled the scent of his messy hair. His gaze then shifted to the full on shining sun that was sending its rays down on them. He furrowed his brows and nodded slowly, determined he was going to fix the heart of the iron man that was shattered into a thousand pieces.

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Tada, my first ever written angsty Stony fanfiction. Let me know what you guys think of it down in the comments. To clear some things up, Tony was suffering from depression and derealisation/personalization in this oneshot, or tripleshot, idk. He had lost all sense of reality and could barely remember himself in the mirror. All of this scared him maniacally, so he started to punch the mirror, he tried to destroy the stranger, but he ended up destroying himself.

Luckily, Steve was there to save him.

Oh gosh, I need a person like Steve in my life. Trying to save yourself if pretty hard y'know? For the record, I'm also suffering from those complicated disorders. It's horrible.

Buuuut, I'm carrying on, I'm putting all my time and effort in writing, reading and drawing now. Even though it's hard, I'll make it. I hope.

I just want a person like Steve in my life, someone who actually cares.

I guess that's difficult.

Anyway, thanks for reading. You really love reading books or you must really love Stony if you've made it this far. Congrats, you deserve a cookie. Speaking of, if you've got an idea for a Stony oneshot, would you please message me? I'd love to hear and write it.

;D

So this story was;

9025 words long,

19 pages long in Word,(Calibri 11)

and it took me about three days to write.

Once again, thanks for reading!

Toodles,

Skye.