Four hours of sleep– that's all she managed before the relentless nightmares clawed their way back, refusing to release their grip.

That's gotta count for something, right?

For an ordinary person, perhaps that would count as something, but for someone who hadn't experienced a moment of peaceful rest in the past five days, it felt like a mere drop of water in a vast desert.

Well, at least there was a drop of water... gotta be positive.

Dab. Dab. Dab.

And that's what led her to her current condition, where she was using concealer to hide the dark circles etching shadows beneath her eyes. She did not quite like– taking away the privilege of oxygen from her skin. But if she was suffering, then who cares about skin?

Contemplating her look in the mirror for a last time, she ensured she didn't resemble what she felt like—a zombie, and shuffled her way to the kitchen.

Coffee was such a heaven-sent elixir in times like these.

She brewed a cup of black coffee, bypassing her normal preference of cold coffee with sugar and milk, knowing if she wanted to function in her current state she would need the bitter drink.

The sound of a quiet groan and shuffling of the cushions caught her attention and she found herself in the common room, clutching the warm cup of coffee. There, sprawled on the couch, was Tony—clothes disheveled, hair unkempt, and one hand massaging his forehead.

"You okay there, Genius?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink. Her eyes scanned his form, the way his clothes were unkempt and hair ruffled, momentarily wondering if he'd been mugged in New York's alleys. The chances were slim, he was Iron Man for god sake, but then again with Tony Stark, anything was possible.

Was he okay?

Until she saw the purplish bruises on his necks littering his neck and jawline. Right, why didn't she think so, it was Tony we were talking about, of course he hadn't been mugged or injured but rather was back after having sex with some models,"You know what? Don't bother answering my question," she mumbled, shaking her head in mild disgust.

"Why, sweetheart, jealous much?" he asked, his hand now resting behind him on the couch, his face containing his ever so cheeky smirk, "Jarvis, told me you were asking If I was up... that too late at night, I wonder why?"

Nora gave him an unimpressed look her eyebrows raised in the silent question of, if he was really doing this. But before she could quip with something sardonic, he continued, "You know those two were quite hot, but you are no less. I'm pretty sure I can manage–"

"Oh, for fucks sake! Stop right there, Tony!" she said, her eyes narrowed, the grip on her cup tightened enough for her knuckles to whiten, "otherwise don't blame me, if something happened to your armor, your handsome face or... god forbid, your arc-reactor,"

"Was that a life threat, sweetheart?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"You sure you want to find out?" she asked, with a sweet smile before rolling her eyes, "And seriously two girls! One day your enemy is going to send some beauty to seduce you, well I doubt she will even need to try-- you are going to get sedated and then get your royal ass into trouble."

"Well, at least in my defense, I would be able to say that she was hot," Tony quipped in.

Nora sighed, running a hand through her face. The rhythmic pulsing of her head was making thinking tough as it was, his sarcasm was just fuel to that fire. "Stark, you're impossible," she grumbled, taking a seat across him, sipping on her coffee in some hope of relief from the head splitting headache that was urging her to destroy something or just take some sleep medicines she oh-so-graciously refuses everytime, she laid her head back on the couch closing her eyes in an unsuccessful attempt of peace.

"I have certainly heard worse," he pointed out, "so I would take that as a compliment," before his gaze drew back to her profile that was visible in the dim light of the common room. The soft blue light highlighted her cheekbones, and the shine in her eyelashes that framed those cheeks, "And speaking of compliments, did I mention that you are certainly...beautiful,"

"Oh, I am sure, 'Hot stuff' is not a nickname that would give me that message," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Oof someone is feisty, I am just trying to compliment you, you know," he said, getting up from the chair stretching his hands above his head to release the stress that had accumulated, while he had noticed her beauty beneath those lights, he had also noticed the concealer that hid the eyebags and the furrow in her brows, "And if you have an headache, take medicines sweetie, they are on the upper right drawer in kitchen, don't take it out on me,"

Nora opened her eyes to sneak a glance at him as he moved out of the common room, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black jacket. Insufferable and infuriating were two adjectives she had heard people described him as, more times than necessary, needless to say they do seem true on the surface. But then, he says things like these, observes things like these and it just makes it difficult to assume these people were true.

***

Sleep--a condition of body and mind that typically recurs for several hours every night, in which the nervous system is relatively inactive, the eyes closed, the postural muscles relaxed, and consciousness practically suspended.

She sometimes- heck leave that, always wondered why she could not get these several hours of sleep every night. What was her mistake in all this? Why did her mind hate her so much? Her body and mind were constantly at war almost all the time, one begging to get some rest, one refusing to once again suffer in the prison of dreams.

She sat in the common room–two empty cups with dried coffee stains sitting on the table– the sanctuary she seeked refuge in when Insomnia haunts her every night.

Being on Avengers had certainly been going well, it was almost two weeks now that she had joined the team– everything was going well in a way, except the occasional stare of Natasha with suspicion all over her eyes that made Nora felt just a twinge of hurt and anger and the... unusual banter with Tony that had been going on, banter with him was not the thing that was unusual, but that fact that she smile after that, was the fact that was unusual.

"Can't sleep?" the voice pulled her out of her thoughts, as she briefly glanced at the source of the voice from her peripheral.

"No, I am just enjoying having a stare off contest with the ceiling, want to join?" she quipped back, with an exaggerated sweet smile that Tony had come to identify as her 'bad mood' or 'This is sarcasm time' smile.

He chuckled, shaking his head before sitting beside her on the couch, not missing the way she shifts a little farther from him subconsciously, "Nah, I would pass it is not really my hobby now. But, pray tell, who is winning? Let me cheer the losing one,"

For a moment she hesitated, not used to talking about her– not used to anyone asking her about her, before sighing, "Insomnia, that's who is winning here... it's really a curse,"

Was it the concern carefully hidden behind his eyes, or was it the way he never pushed her to talk about anything just seem to blend in when he converses with her? Who knows, but what she knew was that this man was proving dangerous, slowly crumbling her walls and making her hope about normalcy for once.

His eyes softened a little, he very well knew her struggles– nightmare, Insomnia, the constant headaches by that and the desire for sleep and at the same time a fear of closing your eyes and really doing that. His gaze flickered to the cups of coffee that lay there on the table, "You know caffeine doesn't help in Insomnia, right?" he asked, his voice casual but not unkind.

"I can't sleep either way, it is better to try to function," she said, shrugging. Of course, she did know that, everyone on this planet knew that. She pointed at him with a raised eyebrow, "And you know, you should be the last person to tell me about this all,"

Rolling his eyes he raised his hands in mock surrender, "Fine, you have got a point. I am indeed the last person who should advice someone on sleeping– like really sleeping,"

Silence falls upon them, not the uncomforting one but rather a warm one-- like an understanding embrace. For a moment she thought she was going insane seeing that she was finding someone's presence comforting, let alone his, "By the way," she cleared her throat, her fingers drumming on the arm rest, "uhh, thank you for that night," she realized she had never really thanked him for it.

She was grateful he woke her up that night, when those repetitive nightmares were haunting her, otherwise she knew she would have been having a mental breakdown or worse a power outbreak– and that would have been an unwelcome start to her time with the Avengers, and an unwelcome start to her mental health too.

Not like it was thriving right now, but that would have been concerning.

Tony hummed in acknowledgement, not knowing what to say, should he tell her it was no problem or brush it off...but he wanted to ask questions, his mind reeling with curiosity.

But knowing how it felt to go through nightmares, he knew better than to ask-- especially when they both were not close. But it tugged at his heartstrings to see her sitting in the common room alone, her normally lithe frame during morning holding a vulnerability in night. Her gaze unfocused, posture tired.

Was it the carefully hidden pain behind her beautiful eyes? Or was it due to concern she showed toward him acting like it is totally normal?

Or was it simply the fact that everything hurts a bit less when he is with her?

"If you are bored, you can join me in the lab, you know,"