Commemoration Ch. 1

Steve promised that he'd stay awake for Tony's return, so he lay down on the couch at Stark Tower, wrapped in a blanket and watching shows he couldn't really make sense of…still. It was mostly teenage drama (God, was every 16 year old girl like that these days?) and annoying game shows with obnoxious hosts.

So at 1 in the morning, he got a little concerned. Tony was late to everything, but…

The phone rang. He figured it was Tony; who else would call at a time like this? He picked up the phone on the counter at the bar and pressed "Talk".

"Hello? This is Steve."

"Steve? It's Nat. There's been an accident."

"Accident?" Steve's reaction was immediate and he stood up from where he was on the couch, waiting for the woman to go on with the details. "What kind of accident? What happened?"

Natasha's heart felt heavy as she tried to make out the words. "A...car accident. Happy was driving Tony back from the conference with Hammer Industries, and a truck hit them from the side. They said it was a drunk driver. Happy's fine, but Tony...it doesn't look good."

In an instant, Steve was out the door and heading to his bike. "I'm on my way," he barely managed to Nat, trying to keep himself calm. He could not freak out yet, he couldn't. He needed to stay calm so he could get to Tony. "What's hospital? What room?"

"He's at New York Downtown hospital, room 214. I'll meet you at the front entrance, okay? Clint and I are 2 minutes away." she told him, swallowing the lump in her throat. "He's going to be okay, Steve. He always is."

"I'll... I'll be there soon," Steve hung up the phone and bit his lip. Natasha was right; Tony would be fine... wouldn't he? God, he hoped so. Before he had a chance to get upset he hopped on his bike and headed off, arriving at the hospital in practically no time. "Hey..." he found Clint and Natasha in no time.

Natasha gripped his arm and began steering him toward the elevator. "I'll deal with the entire registry. When you get to the second floor, turn right and go to the admission desk. Ask for Dr. Reynolds; he's Tony's specialized doctor and no doubt he's there."

Steve felt like his was in a daze when he walked into the hospital. God, he hated these places. "Right..." he mumbled, though he did as instructed and found himself at the admission desk upstairs. "Excuse me," he said politely to the woman sitting there. "I'm looking for Dr. Reynolds? I'm also here to see Tony Stark."

David Reynolds recognized Steve standing at the desk, knowing he was asking about Tony. "Steve?" when the distressed man turned, he smiled tiredly, "I'm Dr. Reynolds, your husband's personal doctor. I know about the shrapnel in his heart and how it works and such. We have a lot to talk about, Mr. Stark-Rogers."

Steve turned to the doctor and gave him a small, yet distressed smile. "Nice to meet you," he murmured and let out a sigh. "Can I see Tony? Is he... Is he alright?" He was, wasn't he? Tony had to be fine, he was... Tony. He was always fine.

"I'll let you see him in a minute. I just want you to understand the extent of Tony's injuries," Reynolds began, his kind smile dropping a little. "Physically, Tony will be fine. He has some broken ribs and a fractured left wrist, and a bad head wound. Those will heal easily. Mentally, however, is a different story. His head connected with the window on impact, causing a traumatic brain injury."

Steve sucked in a breath, trying his best not to wince at the thought of Tony being hurt. Seeing him in pain killed him and he knew it would be rough for him to visit that hospital room in a few minutes. "Brain injury?" he asked after a moment and his frown deepened. "Well he'll be okay, right? People these days... they recover from head injuries."

Dr. Reynolds studied him for a second. "Well...in a lot of cases, yes, eventually. But most of the time, the recovery is highly unpredictable. Anything could happen with the stability of the brain. In Tony's case, it seems that the only way to tell how his brain is functioning is when he wakes up. Because his body also needs time to recover from the shock, we're keeping him sedated for now. Tomorrow, we'll take them off and by all means he should wake up."

Steve listened to the doctor intently, feeling like he was getting a headache from all of this. "Okay," he finally murmured. "So he could have something wrong, but you won't know until tomorrow?" The thought of waiting until tomorrow to see Tony awake was very disappointing, but he understood there was a reason for it. "Well... alright," he finally sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"His room is right over there. You can sit with him as long as you like, but I'd suggest you get some shut eye sometime tonight," Dr. Reynolds instructed. "His nurse will stop by in about an hour, or you can press the call button if anything out of the ordinary happens. I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right?"

He took a deep breath as he glanced towards the room, suddenly feeling extremely nervous. "Okay," he looked back to the doctor and forced a smile. "Thank you." He then headed towards the room, feeling a little shaky as he pushed the door open and headed in.

Oh God.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw Tony and for a moment all he could do was stare. He looked so... so…he didn't know, but he didn't like it.

*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With Clint on her heels, Natasha briskly began walking to Tony's room. She didn't like elevators, and Clint knew it, so they both headed to the stairs without saying anything. Her nerves were frazzled and her stomach was flipping with worry for Tony. They weren't exactly best friends, but they knew a lot about each other (more her knowing him, with her intense secrecy) and after a while he could grow on anyone. She felt Clint's hand grip hers tightly in assurance and she smiled at him thinly before entering Tony's room...

Clint sucked in a breath as they headed up the stairs. He knew that this accident Tony had been in wasn't good, and he wasn't really sure if he was ready to see the billionaire. Hospitals creeped Clint out, especially if someone he cared about what injured. Ah, well, the more pressing matter to him was Steve- the poor guy was probably worried sick. "Well, here goes," he squeezed Nat's hand as they walked into the room, seeing Steve already in there.

Steve's hand was holding Tony's with an intense force, his eyes permanently glued to his face even though he knew that he wouldn't wake up until tomorrow. His body was covered in lacerations and he could see bruises formed and still forming on his face and arms and God knows where else, his arm was set in a plaster cast and Steve could bet that his ribs were bandaged too under the hospital gown. Tony hated hospital gowns; and he never let Steve forget it. He won't be happy that his husband allowed them to put one on him when he wakes up.

He's going to wake up, and he'll be fine. We'll be home in a few days, watching reruns of pointless shows...Steve told himself firmly.

He looked up when he heard a knock on the door. Clint and Natasha looked at him with concern, looking for answers eagerly but not wanting to bombard him.

"He'll be okay." he said thickly, trying to smile.

Clint let out a breath when he saw Tony laying there. Damn. That car had really done a number on him, huh? He shook his head slightly and then turned to Steve, forcing a small smile. "Of course he will. This is Tony we're talking about. Bastard's too stubborn to let this stop him, you know?" He murmured.

Natasha allowed her lips to quirk into the slightest of smiles at that as she headed over to Steve. "Did the doctor explain everything?" she asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity. She was wondering exactly when Tony would wake up.

Steve nodded to Natasha. "At least, as far as I could understand. They're going to take him off the sedatives tomorrow, and he should wake up sometime in the morning." he pressed his lips together tightly.

Feeling their eyes on him, he looked at the floor. "They said his brain might be damaged. That anything can happen. I've seen what brain injuries can do to people, and its scared the living hell out of me. I don't...I don't want..."

"I see," Natasha nodded before she gently laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Hey, it's going to be fine," she said softly, reassuringly. "I'm sure Tony'll be okay. Brain injuries... yeah, they can be serious, but-"

"The guy built a device to stop shrapnel from crawling into his heart. He's gonna be fine, he's a tough one." Clint interrupted, but then gave a soft smile to Steve.

Steve nodded hastily and composed himself, sitting up straight in his chair. "You're right, this is Tony. He's always okay, no matter how bad conditions are."

He chuckled a little suddenly. "He'd slap me if he kept hearing me say that over and over again. But I'm going to end up saying it all night..."

Natasha patted his shoulder again. "It's okay," she murmured and then sat down. "I think he'd understand you're worried. We all know he'd be if the roles were reversed, you know?"

"He'd be throwing a fit," Clint chuckled.

Steve returned Clint's laugh. "He'd be calling the best doctors out there, even if they're already in the room."

It suddenly occurred to him. "Did you call Thor and Bruce?"

"Thor's in Asgard; can't get back right now," Clint shrugged. "And Bruce is on his way."

He nodded. "Bruce is going to get torn up. We should have some comfort food for him later. Doesn't Tony do that when Bruce gets upset? He always does something, and Bruce is okay again."

"I'll make sure to have something for Bruce," Natasha nodded at that.

"You guys can sleep," Steve offered.

"Are you going to sleep at all?" the archer asked, but he knew the answer whether Steve answered truthfully or not.

"Um, maybe," he smiled sheepishly.

Both Natasha and Clint shook their heads, but they settled into the chairs. Clint had the ability to fall asleep anywhere right away, and he proved this when his snoring began. The readhead looked like she wanted to bash her friend's head in, but instead she turned away and tried to focus on something else.

Steve yawned and lay his arms crisscross on the bed, putting his head down. I should stay awake. Tony might wake up earlier. Yeah, I'll stay awake...

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Steve woke feeling more tired than he's ever felt in a long time. Blinking the eye crust out of his eyes, he glanced at his watch. It was 11 AM. His jaw dropped. It'd been 2 AM when he fell asleep! What if Tony-

But Tony was still asleep, in the same exact position. His chest piece was still glowing. Steve frowned. Where did Nat and Clint go? He then felt something on his forehead.

He brought a hand to his head and felt a sticky note. Confused, he peeled it off and read it:

Went to go get some breakfast. Be back at noon. - C and N

Steve absently hoped they'd bring back some coffee for him. Oh yeah, coffee sounds real good. Groggy, he rested his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees.

This sure as hell wasn't the first time Tony was injured, and maybe not even the worst, but it definitely was the scariest. At least when he broke a rib or two or got a concussion during a mission he'd recover quickly. Brain injury was a whole new territory.

He wondered, now, just how different things might be if his nightmare came true. He closed his eyes again, and let himself doze off...again.

The instant Tony was conscious; he was gasping and tugging at the oxygen mask on his face. What the hell was this? Where was he? He blinked wildly a few times and- shit, why was it so bright... and where the hell was he? - Until his vision cleared. "Where...?" he croaked out before gasping in pain because, dammit, it hurt to even breathe!

Steve heard coughing and a gasping from Tony and he was at his side in a second, holding his hand and patting his face.

"Tony! Tony, hey! Can you hear me?"

"Where...?" Tony croaked, his eyes darting everywhere but him. Steve needed to see his eyes, needed to see his eyes filled with love every time Steve looked at him.

"Tony...?"

As Tony kept coughing, Steve hastily pressed the call button, and gripped Tony's shoulders.

"Tony, listen to me, its Steve! You're fine!"

Tony finally got the oxygen mask off of his face so he could speak. "Fine..?" he repeated before he looked up at the man that was speaking to him. A look of confusion came over his face and he pulled away, looking around again as he hissed in pain. "Who're you, some kind of doctor?" he asked Steve, just as a nurse rushed into the room. What the hell was going on here?

Steve looked at Tony with shock as one nurse began to usher him out of the way. What the hell was Tony playing at? Tony could be an asshole sometimes, but never to Steve. Whenever Tony was hurt, he used the same line when he woke up from a concussion or something.

"Good morning, sunshine."

This time, Steve got a look of pain, confusion, and unrecognizable look. Anything can happen...highly unpredictable...

No, it wasn't possible. Tony remembered him. He knew that he was Steve Rogers from the 1940's, frozen for 70 years. They got married a year ago. They were planning to adopt when they could. They were happily in love.

Who're you?