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Empty Chairs at Empty Tables (Tony Stark/slight reader)

(Not a request. Just my brain at work. A Songfic with "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" from Les Miserables. So that means...MAJOR ANGST!) 

Tony wandered into the room, walking in a daze. The guilt and grief he was feeling weren't at all calmed by the scotch in his glass. How could they be? He pulled up short when he realized what room he'd wandered into. The briefing room. His eyes darted around the table as memories flooded his mind. Memories of the days before.

There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone

Here they talked of revolution
Here it was they lit the flame
Here the sang about tomorrow
And tomorrow never came

From the table, through the corner
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
And I can hear them now

The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion
And the lonely barricade
At dawn

Tony's memories were somewhat pleasant at first. Visions of all his friends laughing and joking around. Then, the not so pleasant memories came. Memories of arguing with Steve over the Accords. Memories of the disagreements between all of them. The fights they all endured. The dream of a better tomorrow. A tomorrow that would never come. At least not for them.

It hadn't meant to happen. Their enemy had just been too strong. Too resourceful. They never stood a chance. Tony had watched in horror as his teammates fell one by one. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear their screams.

Oh my friends, my friends forgive me
That I live and you are gone
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on

Phantom faces at the window
Phantom shadows on the floor
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more

Tony didn't know how he'd managed to escape the same fate as the rest of the Avengers, but he did know that he hated himself for it. He should have been among the casualties. He knew that. Perhaps, just perhaps, if it had been him, they would have survived. Tony sank into a chair as the faces of his friends flashed through his mind.

He could picture them quite clearly. Rhodey. Steve. Natasha. Clint. Wanda. Sam. T'Challa. Thor. Bruce. Peter. Even Bucky and Pietro. In Tony's mind, they were all glaring at him, accusing him of abandoning them when they needed him most. It did nothing to ease his guilt. He could hear their voices, as if they were in the room with him and no amount of booze could cover the sound.

Oh my friends, my friends don't ask me

What your sacrifice was for

Empty Chairs at empty tables

Where my friends will sing no more

Tony drained the contents of his glass before hurling it across the room. What had been the point of it all? Why had the Initiative even been started if this was going to be the end result?! He was the only one left. It was all for nothing, so what was the point? His dark eyes were scanning the empty room again when he heard the door open.

He barely heard you call his name. His mind was too full. It wasn't until you were standing right in front of him that he finally broke. Tony looked up to see you looking down at him with sad eyes and the man lost it. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his face to your stomach. Then, he did something he rarely ever did. Tony wept.