For a long time in the cave – basically the entire time in the cave – Tony had thought Rhodes was dead. Convinced himself of it, really, hadn’t even allowed a modicum of hope to sink in because he knew when he got home, if he got home, that hope being crushed would be too much for him to bear. He had called out to him when the shots started firing, had immediately thought of him as the car in front burst into elaborate flames, and amidst admiring the powerful nature of the weapon, an explosion that seemed so intimately familiar that he had to have built the cause of it, he had thought of his friend, how his name would be the last thing he’d said.
When Rhodes walked over the hill in Afghanistan, when the helicopter landed in front of him and Rhodes ran to him, pulled him into a hug even as he was aching all over, not caring that he was covered in motor oil and blood and sweat and even more blood, Tony had felt as if everything in the world crashed together into a single, conceivable second. Everything, his entire life, had seemed so disorganised. Chaos stitched together with the worst possible choices. But that moment, that moment was so simple. Rhodes was there as he had always been, and he was holding him, and everything was going to be okay. He was going to go home and he was going to work it out, and everything would be fine, because it had to be. He had his best friend.
For a long time, Tony had been the one who was sick, the one who was dying, the one who couldn’t fight as hard as he wanted to. Rhodes was always stronger, faster, better at throwing a leg over the wall and dragging Tony behind him. Now, the tides had turned. Tony’s heart was full of holes but it was beating hard and strong. Rhodey’s legs were damaged, and a part of him couldn’t stop blaming himself. Yet Rhodes still took Tony’s hand in his, and Tony squeezed it gently.
“That almost sounded like comfort,” he teased, forcing a small smile onto his face. “I’ve been talking about aliens for years, Rhodes. I should have looked into more species of them, talked to Carol more, maybe even went out to space.” The only reason he hadn’t was because he was afraid. Same as everything. “I should have had contingency plans in place. What is the army thinking of the whole thing?”
Rhodes almost wanted to reassure Tony that this, and by this, he meant being stuck in a wheelchair, wasn't a problem he needed to solve. He had seen Tony work endlessly in projects that both fascinated and obsessed him, work until he passed out of exhaustion work until he almost lost his mind. When he found a new project he put his everything into it. He didn't know when to stop, didn't know how to only work half ways. Besides, his legs weren't a puzzle that could be put together after hours of careful consideration. It wasn't as simple as glueing a cup after it fell to the ground and broke into one million tiny pieces. It required time and effort and despite how much his friend and everyone else wanted to help only Rhodes could do it. All Tony could do was be his side and that was something that left you feeling powerless. Rhodes knew it very well, he had spent years watching Tony behave in a less than healthy way, had watched his friend wasting his potential, build a reputation of a moralless playboy more interested in having fun and engrossing his list of love conquest than in fighting to make the world a better place. And during all those years all he could do was watch and stand by Tony's side, no matter what.
Now the tables were turned. It was Tony's turn to watch and be there, silently supporting him. It could be hard to believe but something as simple as just remaining by his side made things much better. That's the true basis of friendship. You didn't need to solve your friend's problems, just stand under the storm with them until the sun opens its way through the clouds.
And now Tony had one more thing to add to the already impossible weight on his shoulders. No one could have possibly seen it coming. No one had seen it coming. And yet Tony blamed himself for not being able to do what any other human being, and not so human, hadn't been able to do. There were many who shared this sentiment. People with hearts too big for their own good. "And how were you supposed to do that exactly?" He wondered, one brow raised. "There isn't a section in the library you can consult. Hell, Tones, our knowledge about Asgardian is filled under 'Mythology'. Mythology for fuck's sake!" He shook his head. "And what was Danvers supposed to tell you, eh?" He sighed. "You can't have contingency plans for something you don't know exist. If you follow that route you'll end living underground in an anti-bombs bunker with enough food and supplies to survive any kind of apocalypse."
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