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There is no glory in sadness.

Tony Stark knew this like the back of his own hand. There were no people who looked deep enough to see one's inner struggle. No one wanted to see pain. Even Tony himself had a hard time recognizing his own problems for what they were.

His feet dangled off the edge of the rooftop, over the glaring drop before him. The Compound roof wasn't that high up, but it was enough. It was enough to set his heart racing when he had put both feet up to the edge and let the wind breeze through his hair.

There wasn't even someone to see him be darkly poetic.

He was alone tonight. Vision had returned to Stark Tower under Tony's instruction to check on a few things, Black Widow had disappeared, and Rhodey had gone home. He'd come so close to asking his friend to stay one more night, but the sight of him and his new robotic legs…it only made the guilt worsen.

It was completely his fault. Tony thought this as he stared down at the dark grass below him. He hadn't slept in three days because of the nightmares. All he could see was his best friend falling through the sky, hitting the unforgiving earth, laying unmoving…

Then there was Steve. The old images were still there—Captain America lying on the ground among his team, dying, telling Tony he could have saved them. But now there were new ones, too. The video of that dirt road where his parents had died. Steve's shield being slammed into his chest, Tony accusing Steve of having no right to hold it anymore.

Steve dropping his shield and walking away with Bucky.

"He's my friend."

"So was I."

Tony shivered, lurching out of the memory.

It was his fault; all of it was. What had happened in Sokovia—there was no one else to blame but him. When that woman had told him he had killed her son…Tony couldn't handle it. He'd finally begun to reconcile with himself everything that had happened there. He'd been overwhelmed. So when the Accords were offered to him…what was he supposed to say? This was his only chance.

So he took it.

And yet, in doing what he thought was right, he had only caused more pain. Hadn't he been through enough? Wasn't the trauma of losing his parents good enough for fate? Why did it have to bite him every time he tried to do something good?

Tony Stark breathed deeply, shuddering in the cold night air.

He was alone.

It was a long way down…

He swallowed thickly, hands gripping the side of the building. After a moment, his fingers stiffly unclasped the watch from his wrist. The metal dropped to the ground with a soft chink. He wouldn't need his armor for this. He wouldn't need his suit ever again, in fact.

He stood, the backs of his eyes burning. He raised his arms slightly to either side, trying to keep his balance on the narrow ledge. He tried to imagine what would happen when someone found him. Would they cry? Would his death just be another casualty in the war?

Thinking of his friends only made his throat tighten even more. No point in thinking of them when he was about to do the most selfish thing he'd ever done. And yet, somewhere in his twisted logic, there was a voice that said he was doing the right thing. Not only would he end his own torment, but he would end the suffering he caused others.

His balance wavered, and his heartbeat quickened as he leaned forward. Why wasn't he moving? Stepping away from the ledge and falling?

What if this didn't kill him? What if he was still alive when they found him?

Tony shivered violently in the cold of his own thoughts. The chill in the air around him no longer affected him.

Tony stood there for what felt like an eternity, internally battling with himself. Why couldn't he do it?

He raised his foot, ready to step off, then hesitated. He put his foot back down. Raised it again. Leaned forward ever so slightly. Turned around and tried to freefall backwards.

And yet he couldn't force himself over the edge.

Was it cowardice? Was it the constant nagging reminder of all the people he would leave behind? But he had nothing. Everything he had had that was worth keeping was gone now.

He cursed himself, a few tears escaping and falling down his face. He stepped down from the ledge, back onto the relative safety of the roof. His fingernails dug into his palms; he could feel blood.

And this was how it would be for so very long, he knew. It was how it had been for so long now he couldn't remember what it was like to truly be okay. Because there was no one to see his pain. No one he would voluntarily show. He had considered talking to Pepper, or Rhodey, or even one of his various robots, but he had ended up bailing out every time.

He shook, trying to calm himself down. It would do no good to have someone find him out here like this, all crying and out of control.

So he hastily rubbed his eyes with his palms, because Tony Stark doesn't cry.

But it didn't matter, because he was alone. So very alone.

He turned a full circle, staring up into the starry sky. He wondered where his friends were at that moment. Rhodey, Pepper, Sam, Steve…yes, he still considered Steve his friend. Even though so much had happened. He wondered what Steve thought of him.

He ran a hand through his hair as he glanced one last time at the edge of the Compound. No, he thought. Tony turned away and walked quickly toward the door that would take him back down to his room. The room he would stay awake in all night, ignoring the soft bed, running from the nightmares.

His grip tightened on the doorknob, and he hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then he disappeared down the stairwell.

He left the watch where it lay, knowing someone would eventually find it there and return it to him. And if not, he would no doubt be back on that rooftop in the near future to repeat this whole process.

Tony Stark knew this like the back of his own hand.

There is no glory in sadness.