A/N I am SO sorry this has taken so long to get posted guys! I had this about half written when I posted my last one-shot, It's A Long Story. Then literally a few days after I posted that one, my computer crashed and it took me over a week to get it working again and I lost several documents in the process. Then school got insanely crazy to the point that I didn't even get to have a spring break because I was so busy with school work. But finally that's all finished now and I have this completed.

This kind of went a little off the track of how I originally had it planned. It was just going to be a simple "Steve has a flashback/nightmare and Tony helps him deal with it" type story, but then some father/son angst, a memory of Tony's wife and Steve as a kid, and Tony having a nightmare suddenly appeared out of nowhere and here we are. This ended up very different from how I originally pictured it, but I like how it turned out and I hope you guys do too!

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is part of my continuing Time Travel Changes Everything universe, which started with my story Steven Anthony Stark and has since grown way more than I ever expected it to. If you haven't read any of the previous stories, you might be a bit confused on some of the things I mention in this one, but feel free to read anyway. The most important thing to know is that in this universe Steve is Tony's son but he's still Captain America and Tony is still Iron Man.

For anyone who needs it, the list of stories in this universe and the recommended reading order is available at the bottom of my profile.

To Make a You Feel My Love

Things were good. Not perfect, but nothing was ever truly perfect. After so many years of things being anything but good, Tony would take good for as long as he had it.

The world was safe, things between him and Pepper were good, he was a national hero and hadn't had any bad publicity in months, and most importantly, his son was alive and living right there in the tower with him. Tony wasn't stupid or blind enough to think it would last forever. Nothing lasted forever, such was the way of life, but he had hoped it would last just a little bit longer than it did.

Pepper was in California taking care of an important meeting for Stark Industries and Rhodey was off being War Machine for the military. So it was just Tony and Steve in the tower.

The two of them spent a quiet evening in. They made and ate dinner together, something that was quickly becoming a regular occurrence in the tower. It had been years since Tony had cooked. Five years to be exact. His skills were a bit rusty, but it didn't take him long to remember, especially with Steve's help.

Tony never tired of being able to sit down to a meal with his son and just talk, just be a family. Tony had eaten more regularly in the last couple of weeks than he had in years. Eating wasn't just something he had to do to survive anymore. It wasn't something that got in his way or felt like a waste of time the way it had over the past five years. Dinner was something to look forward to now and he enjoyed every second of it.

Pepper, of course, was ecstatic. Finally, he was keeping regular hours and eating real food at normal intervals. He was acting more like a normal human being, and Pepper never once had to nag him to get him to do any of it. Her job had gotten a whole lot easier. If she didn't already love Steve to death, that alone would have endeared him to her.

After dinner, Tony and Steve cleaned up the dishes, then moved to the living room. Steve was sitting in the armchair next to the couch reading a book and Tony was stretched out on the couch flipping through channels on the TV. They didn't talk, just enjoyed each other's presence in companionable silence that was only broken by the low tones of the TV as Tony changed channels every few seconds.

Things really couldn't last. Tony knew that, and he should have expected it, but he had foolishly hoped that things would be good for a while longer. He certainly never expected something as stupid as the TV would mess everything up.

After flipping through the channels for a few minutes, Tony stopped on some nineteen fifties war movie. He didn't think anything about it. That was, until bombs started going off on the screen.

Steve jerked and his head snapped up, the abrupt movement catching Tony's attention. The younger man stared at the screen, his teeth clenched so hard Tony could see the muscle in his jaw twitch.

Tony grabbed the remote and hit the buttons so fast he changed the channel four times before his brain could register that the movie was no longer on the screen. In its place, was some cooking show that Tony muted.

"Steve?" he called softly.

"I'm fine," Steve said far too quickly, in a strained voice that belied his words.

He looked back down at his book, but it was painfully obvious that he wasn't reading anymore. His whole body was tense and he stared right through the page in front of him.

"Steve-"

"I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed," Steve said, dropping his book on his chair and standing up. "Goodnight," he said tersely over his shoulder and was out of the room before Tony could even respond.

A heaviness settled in Tony's heart. Apparently the days of Steve openly talking to him about things were gone. Tony stared at the door Steve had disappeared through as if he could somehow see through the walls to the bedroom Steve was headed toward.

They were in the tower so of course the room wasn't the one Steve had grown up with. Even the layout was completely different from Steve's childhood room back in Malibu. However, that didn't keep Tony from imagining a Captain America comforter on the bed, a large shield painted on a blue wall, toys on the shelves and littered around the room. The only thing he didn't have to imagine was the sketch pad that was always sitting on the desk. That hadn't changed. But everything else was long gone, even from Steve's room back in Malibu. Steve had outgrown those things. He had outgrown a lot of things.

Tony looked back at the armchair Steve had been sitting in a moment before and wondered where the years had gone. He felt like he had blinked and his little boy had turned into a man. True, he had missed two years of Steve's life. Two precious years neither of them could get back, but even before the time travel, Tony had wondered how Steve had managed to grow up so fast. The eight year old who used to draw while he worked, and the ten year old who used to hand him tools in his lab was twenty now, had been through a war, lost friends, become a hero, survived seventy years in ice, and fought two major battles against aliens.

Tony couldn't possibly be more proud, but he also couldn't help but miss the simpler days when his little boy was just that. The days when Steve had still needed him.

"Goodnight, Steve," Tony said softly to the empty room.

Then he got up and headed for his lab. He wasn't getting any sleep after that train of thought.

)()()(

It took Steve almost an hour to successfully get his mind off of the memories of deafening explosions, flying dirt, and paralyzingly fear.

Over an hour after leaving the living room, Steve finally felt like his mind might be calm enough to let him sleep. He changed into a T-shirt and pajama pants and got into bed. He kept his thoughts on positive things. He was safe, the war was over, he was back in his own time where he belonged, and his father was there, not far away.

That last thought, more than anything, relaxed and reassured Steve to the point of allowing his eyes to slip closed and sleep to find him.

)()()(

"Daddy! Daddy! Tuck me in," five-year-old Steve yelled as Tony walked into his room.

"Okay, but you have to get in bed before I can," Tony said.

Steve jumped up from where he was playing with his Captain America action figure on the floor and ran to his bed, bringing the toy with him. Tony pulled the blankets back and Steve climbed in.

"Tell me the story!"

"Steve, I've told you that story a million times now. Don't you want to hear a different one?"

"Uh uh," Steve said with a shake of his head.

Tony glance over his shoulder and shared an amused look with his wife who was standing in the doorway.

"Okay," Tony sighed.

"Yay!" Steve cheered with a clap of his little hands before wrapping his arms around his action figure and staring at Tony with rapt attention.

"Once upon a time, there was a very brave man-"

"Named Captain America!" Steve interrupted.

"Named Captain America," Tony repeated. "This man was very very kind. He cared about everyone around him and wanted to help people. But he was small and not very strong. He wanted to help people so much, though, that when a doctor gave him a chance, Captain America took it. It was dangerous and risky but he drank a special potion that made him big and strong."

"And brave!" Steve said.

"He was always brave," Tony said. "The potion just gave him the strength to use his bravery. Together with his best friend Bucky, Captain America fought a very bad man."

"Red Skull."

"That's right. Red Skull. He wanted to hurt a whole bunch of people, but Captain America wasn't going to let that happen. Red Skull packed up his airplane with a bunch of weapons and took off, but not before Captain America snuck on board. He fought Red Skull and beat him. He stopped the plane and saved everybody."

"He was a hero," Steve said happily.

"Yes, he was. He was a great man."

"Like you, Daddy."

Tony looked at his wife, an expression of wonder on his face. Before Steve was born, Tony never could have imagined the emotions a child could inspire in him. He couldn't put into words the level of joy, awe, and intense, overwhelming love Steve made him feel and he wouldn't give it up for anything in the world.

"I love you, Daddy," Steve said with a big yawn and drooping eyes.

"I love you too, Baby. With all my heart," Tony said, softly kissing Steve's forehead.

Steve's eyes finally closed and a minute later he was asleep. Tony gently pulled the Captain America toy from Steve's lax hands and stood it on the bedside table, positioning it the way Steve usually insisted it be, so that the toy was effectively "watching over" Steve.

Tony walked over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her as they watched their son sleep.

"There aren't words," Tony said softly.

"You're a wonderful father," Alia said.

"And you're an amazing mother."

She turned in his arms and kissed him. She caressed his cheek and turned back to look at Steve for another long moment before grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door toward her.

"Goodnight, Little One," she whispered.

"Sleep tight, Baby," Tony added as she quietly closed the door to Steve's room.

Tony turned to head to his bedroom when everything went wrong. He was no longer in the hallway in his home. He was in a cave, red rock walls surrounding him. And he was alone. His wife was gone.

He spun around, but the door to Steve's room was gone as well. In its place, was a nightmare. The mouth of the cave loomed in front of him, the bright sunlight almost blinding in the otherwise dim cave. To the left of the opening was an unconscious man, buried beneath rocks from the cave wall. Tony didn't care about him. If the man was dead, Tony wouldn't mind.

It was what was to the right of the cave opening that had his heart stopping and his stomach plummeting to the floor.

He didn't want to move any closer, but he felt himself take a stiff, stilted step, feeling like his legs would give out on him at any moment. He half-stumbled, half-staggered closer to the dying man before him. Every part of him screamed for him to turn, to run away from this, to flee and deny the truth of what was in front of him, but he didn't turn. He didn't run. He moved closer and closer until he was standing over a man who was alive but wouldn't be for long.

"Yinsen." The word was barely more than a whisper falling from his lips.

"Stark." The word was strained with pain, ripping into Tony's heart.

"Come on. We got to go." Denial had always been Tony's go-to defense. "You're going to go see your family."

Tony didn't know why he was saying that. He knew the truth about Yinsen's family. He had always known. He could see it in the man's eyes, just as Yinsen could see the truth in Tony's own gaze. They had never spoken it out loud. They had pretended like they didn't know the truth, but it had always been there, hanging in the silence between them. Both of their families were dead. It didn't matter what they told each other. It didn't matter what they told themselves. It didn't matter if they got out of that cave. They were never going to see their families again. Not in this life.

"My family's dead," Yinsen said, his gaze knowing as he met Tony's eyes. "I'm going to see them now."

And oh, if Tony didn't envy the man in that moment. Tony missed his wife and his son so much. He wanted to be with them again more than he had ever wanted anything, and yet, life wouldn't let him go. It kept holding on to him, torturing him with every lonely day he continued to live. But Tony couldn't begrudge Yinsen this. And he couldn't let him go without saying something.

"Thank you. For saving me." The words were so inadequate for what Yinsen had done for him.

Yinsen hadn't just saved his life from the bomb. He had saved him in a way that was so much more important than that. Yinsen had saved him from himself. It had taken being imprisoned in a cave in the middle of the desert, injured and at the end of his hope, but somehow, Tony had learned how to live again.

The words were so inadequate, but once again, Yinsen was able to read him, even beyond what Tony wanted him to see.

"Don't waste it. Don't waste your life."

And with those words, Yinsen ensured that Tony would never give up on life again. He couldn't now. Yinsen had given everything, including his life, to save Tony. Tony couldn't waste that sacrifice, which meant he was not only going to have to live, but he was going to have to make the most of what his pitiful life could give.

In his dying moments, Yinsen was saving him again. Tony never got the chance to thank him for that, but he hoped Yinsen knew the full weight of what he had done for Tony, and just how grateful Tony was to him for taking a broken and bitter billionaire's life, and turning it around.

With one last, shuddering breath, Yinsen grew still.

)()()(

Tony jolted awake with a gasp. His back protested as he sat up from his hunched over position where his head had been resting on one of the tables in his lab. That was never a comfortable sleeping position, but it wasn't the first time he had fallen asleep like that, and likely wouldn't be the last.

He rubbed a hand over his sweaty face. He hated dreaming about Afghanistan. The dreams were a lot fewer and farther in between than they used to be, but that didn't make them any easier to handle when they did come. They were never pleasant, especially the dreams of his torture, but the dreams about Yinsen's death always hit him the hardest. It brought that same pain of loss back as if it was fresh, and even more, it reminded him of his failure. He hadn't been able to save Yinsen. After everything the doctor had done for him, Tony had failed him.

However, that was the first time Tony had ever dreamed of his late wife and Steve as a child, in conjunction with Afghanistan, and he really didn't want to think too deeply about the implications of that and what it meant about his mental state. A psychologist would have a field day with him. He had enough issues and demons to fill an entire journal in the field of psychology.

Tony got up from his seat and moved over to the middle of the room, bringing up the holographic schematics of his latest project and stuffing away the nightmare and ignoring it. Ignoring things was what he did best after all.

)()()(

It was deafening. Bombs were going off all around him. Dirt flew in every direction. He was pinned down.

Fire surrounded him, the flames licking at him hungrily.

Snow blew in his face, and the wind whipped at him as he reached for Bucky.

Bucky slipped from his grasp and fell, fell, fell.

There was death. Everywhere he looked, people he cared about were dead. Erskine. Bucky. Peggy. The Commandos.

Blood coated his hands.

Ice was everywhere, pressing in on him. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He couldn't feel.

He was so cold.

)()()(

Tony was sitting on a stool in his lab, staring at holographic blueprints without seeing them. He was a million miles away, thinking about bedrooms and lost time, and caves and failures, when Jarvis broke him out of his thoughts.

"Sir, I believe Master Steve requires your immediate assistance."

Tony was already on his feet and moving toward the door as he replied.

"What's wrong?"

"It appears Young Sir is having a nightmare."

Tony was running the second the words were out. He arrived at Steve's room and threw the door open. Steve was writhing on the bed and crying out in obvious distress.

"Bucky, no!"

Tony edged toward the bed, ready to jump back in case Steve lashed out in his sleep. Tony knew Steve would never intentionally hurt him, but he wasn't currently aware of reality, and even an accidental, glancing blow from Captain America could hurt. At the same time, Tony refused to leave Steve trapped in his nightmare. He cautiously reached out a hand and shook Steve's shoulder, hard.

"Steve!" Tony yelled and leaped backward.

Steve's eyes flew open and he sat up with a gasp. He looked wildly around the room, expecting to see snow, explosions, dirt, and death. Instead, he saw his room in the tower and slowly remembered where he was.

"Steve?" Tony called.

Steve turned toward the voice and locked eyes with Tony, unable to keep the swirling emotions off his face and out of his eyes.

"Dad," Steve whispered, his voice breaking on the word.

In two strides, Tony was sitting on the edge of Steve's bed and pulling his trembling son into his arms. Warm tears slipped from Steve's eyes to soak into the shoulder of Tony's shirt.

"He was my best friend," Steve choked.

"I know," Tony said softly.

"I couldn't save him," Steve whispered.

"I know," Tony said again, gently carding his fingers through Steve's hair as his son clung to him and sobbed into his shoulder.

"I couldn't save any of them. I tried-"

Tony shushed him gently.

"It hurts," Steve sobbed.

Tony didn't say anything. He just pressed a kiss to Steve's hair and held him, gently rocking from side to side and wishing he could take away the pain. Despite it happening seventy years ago, for Steve, it had only been a few months since Bucky died, and with everything that had happened, he hadn't had time to really grieve.

"Does it ever get any better?" Steve asked softly.

"Yes. It will never go away. It's something you will always carry with you, but it does get better."

"Who was he?" Steve asked, pulling back to lean against his headboard.

Tony furrowed his brow quizzically.

"You lost a friend too," Steve said. It wasn't a question.

Tony felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He had forgotten how perceptive Steve could be.

"His name was Yinsen. He saved my life in more ways than one." Steve remained silent, just listening. "I met him in Afghanistan. I assume SHIELD gave you my file?"

Steve nodded. "I know you were hurt. I know you made the arc reactor there. And I know you built the prototype suit to escape. I'm sure there are some missing details, though."

Tony nodded. "I was hit by one of my own weapons, one of the ones I made after you were gone. My chest was messed up pretty good. I would have died without Yinsen. He was the doctor who operated on me, kept me alive until I could build the reactor. He was my fellow prisoner... And he was my friend." Tony took a deep breath and looked away. "He lost a family too. We never talked about it, but we both knew. When you go through something like that, you can spot it in other people." He raised his eyes to meet Steve's again. "Even though we never talked about it, he understood. He was the only person I've known who really, truly understood, in a way that most people can't."

"What happened to him?"

"When it came time to escape, things spiraled out of control and there wasn't as much time as we- as I had hoped. We both knew there would be no second chance. If we didn't escape, they were going to kill us." Tony paused for a moment and swallowed hard as he remembered the nightmare that was that day. "Yinsen grabbed a gun to buy me some time... By the time I caught up to him, he was dying. I had just enough time to thank him for saving my life."

Steve gripped his father's arm. He had never really registered how close it had been. Steve had almost woken up from the ice to find out his father was dead.

"He saved my life as a doctor, and he saved my life as a friend. Because of him, I lived to find my way back to you. I'll always be grateful to him for that."

"I wish I could have known him. I wish I could have thanked him for saving you. I owe him so much."

"Just as much as I owe Bucky," Tony said, gripping Steve's hand as his son's eyes dropped from his. "Tell me about him?"

Steve kept his eyes on their clasped hands. "I was starving when I met him. I was living on the streets. I had no idea how to survive in the forties, and I was so small and weak. I have no idea what he saw in me. He should have never given me a second glance. He should have just kept walking and never thought of me again, but he stopped. He stopped and he... saved my life." Steve raised his eyes to meet his father's. "He took me in. He helped me get a job. If not for him, I'm not sure I would have survived let alone become Captain America."

"You repaid the favor, though. You got him out of that Hydra prison."

"But I couldn't save him on that train. He pushed me out of the way. He saved my life, again. And I couldn't save him. I reached for him and he just slipped away. For all my strength and abilities, I couldn't save my best friend. I just watched him fall."

"You tried. You did your best."

"It wasn't good enough."

"Sometimes it never is. Sometimes no matter how much we want to help someone, we just can't. And you have to find a way to accept that and figure out how to live with it."

"How?" Steve asked, his eyes bright.

"You start by letting go of the guilt. As much as it feels like it, it wasn't your fault."

Steve nodded jerkily, a tear slipping past his guard and rolling down his cheek. He turned his head away in an attempt to hide it.

"Hey," Tony said, gently grabbing Steve's chin and turning his face back to him. "The second thing you do is let yourself grieve. Let yourself feel. Let yourself cry. And don't you dare feel ashamed about it."

Another tear joined the first on Steve's face before he was pulled back into his father's arms.

"I miss him. I miss all of them," Steve murmured.

"You will get through this. I promise," Tony said softly.

"I just wish the nightmares would stop. I'm so tired of seeing war and death every time I close my eyes."

"It'll get better," Tony promised. "The nightmares will probably never completely go away, but they will become less frequent. And no matter what, I'm here for you, whenever you need me. I love you, Little Cap."

Steve laughed softly through his tears. "I love you too, Dad."

Tony pulled back and gently wiped his son's tears away. "Why don't you try to get some more sleep."

"I... Would you stay with me?"

Tony smiled softly. Maybe his baby did still need him. "I'll stay right here until you get to sleep."

Steve took in a shaky breath and laid back down. Tony sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his son's hair as Steve's breathing evened out and deepened.

Eventually, Tony stood, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Steve's forehead before silently walking to the door. He paused, turning back. He glanced around the room, once again seeing toys and Captain America sheets. He looked at Steve and, for just a moment, saw the little boy he had once been before he was replaced by the man he now was. The man who Tony was so proud of, he could never put it into words.

"Sleep tight, Baby," Tony whispered.

He closed the door and walked toward his own room.

"Jarvis, let me know if he has anymore nightmares," Tony said softly.

"Of course, Sir," Jarvis replied just as quietly.

Tony went to his own room and laid down on his bed. He was asleep soon after.

No more nightmares visited the Starks that night.

A/N So? What do you think? :)

I'm currently working on the next one-shot I promised, the one about the world finding out Steve is Tony's son. It should be up sometime next week.