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“The next time I see Doom, I’m going to do something that Steve would definitely not approve of,” Tony threatens, blasting another DoomBot away with his repulsor.
“If it involves killing him, I think I’d actually approve that,” Steve says.
Clint gives a mock gasp. “Stop the presses! Stark and Rogers agree on something!”
“Yeah, like Clint Barton’s an ass,” Tony grumbles, making his way through the belly of the naval ship.
“I like Hawkeye,” Steve defends. “He actually follows orders.”
“And he’s taken out more DoomBots,” Natasha adds.
Clint laughs while Tony makes a mock-gasp. “That is crossing a line, Miss Romanov!”
Here’s the situation: Dr. Doom is supposed to be on a naval ship transporting a small DoomBot army to D.C. where they’re going to make a lot of explosions and screams and rubble. The Avengers came out here to stop him at sea, only to find no Doom and a shit-ton of DoomBots, so either the intel’s faulty or Dr. Doom left the party early. Except he never leaves the party early when he can fry some Avengers, so…
Bruce is up in the QuinJet that’s hovering half a mile above the ship, listening for a Code Green that will probably never come (Jolly Green and boats don’t mix). Natasha’s in the control room grabbing some much-needed intel on Doom’s next plan. Steve, Thor, and Clint are taking out DoomBots above deck.
Tony’s below deck, because Jarvis’s scanners picked up something weird by the ship’s generator. Doom probably sucked up the juice before leaving, because it’s almost dead. The lights are barely flickering down here.
When Tony does find the generator, he sucks in a breath. “Well, I hope you all like fireworks, because our evil doctor friend set us up for a great show down here.”
“What does he mean?” Thor asks.
“Doom set up a bomb,” Bruce translates. “How much time’s on it?”
“It’s hooked up to the generator. When it goes, we go.” Not entirely true. Tony can probably survive the blast in his suit, even this close to the bomb. Thor’s a god, Bruce has Hulk, and everyone knows not to underestimate the shit Capsicle can survive.
But Natasha and Clint won’t survive. Steve would probably be crippled, at least. Tony doesn’t need any more deaths on his conscience.
“A minute and a half, tops,” Tony says.
“I need three minutes for this to download,” Natasha says.
“Forget it,” Steve says. “Fall back.”
“No, wait, I got this,” Tony says, dismantling his suit. “I can’t disable the bomb—it’s about as stable as a nuclear popsicle. But I can buy you guys more time.”
“How much?”
“Fifteen minutes?”
“That’s plenty,” Natasha says.
“Do it,” Steve orders.
“Sir,” JARVIS says on their private channel while Tony digs wires out of his pockets and starts opening a second channel to the bomb. “I must object. You won’t survive fifteen minutes without the—”
“I’m well aware, that’s why you’re going to run home and get me the spare,” Tony says. “Go fetch, boy.”
“Sir...”
“Now.”
JARVIS hesitates, then marches the Iron Man suit out. That AI really only exists to oppose all of Tony’s well-laid plans, Tony swears that he’ll fix up that programming…Good God, this must be how Steve feels about him all the time!
Tony chuckles at that thought. Chances are good that he'll be dead long before JARVIS comes back. Ah, well. #ShitHappens.
Tony pulls the arc reactor out of his chest and unhooks it.
The pain is immediate. Shrapnel in the chest, it’s not fun. Tony barely has time to plug the rector to the bomb before he goes into shock. His legs give out, and he crumples to the ground, his back against the generator. The reactor glows like a star in the dark room, just as the lights give out.
The generator’s dead.
The bomb doesn’t go off.
Tony grins. Stupid Doom. He’s only killing off the least valuable Avenger with this stunt.
--
When Tony told Pepper that he shouldn’t be alive, he meant it.
Seeing his weapons, his creations, in the hands of terrorists and murderers and other Very Not Nice people had confirmed the thought that’d been buzzing around the back of his mind for years: his life was destroying others'. Except it was more than just draining Pepper and Rhodey and Obie of their time and energy. Millions’ of people’s lives, their blood, that was on Tony. He didn’t deserve his life.
Only two things stopped him from acting on that. One: Yinsen’s last words. (“Don’t waste it. Don’t waste your life, Stark.”) It was really shitty to refuse a dying man’s final wish. And two: the fact that Tony had the ability to take his weapons back.
Tony Stark didn’t deserve to live. But Iron Man did.
--
Natasha’s assessment of him was spot on. Iron Man: good. Tony Stark: not good. He’d bitched to Fury about it, but she’d been right.
Tony Stark had been almost grateful for the palladium poisoning. But Iron Man was still needed, so he saved himself to save Iron Man.
Tony wanted to give Iron Man to someone else. He really did. But who would take it seriously? Who was qualified enough and, more importantly, trustworthy enough to be Iron Man? Obie had taught him that nobody could be trusted. Rhodey, too. (Tony had been ready to make him Iron Man, anyway, but then he had to go and stab him in the back.) Pepper didn’t want it. The military and SHIELD weren’t anywhere near trustworthy enough to handle it properly.
But maybe now, with the Avengers, Iron Man wasn’t needed anymore. Maybe he could die with Tony Stark.
--
He’s so cold.
Which is kinda funny, because he’s sweating like a pig. You’d think he just came out of a swimming pool (oh, crap, don’t think about pools, or any stagnant bodies of water, just don’t).
There’s voices. Loud, angry voices. Oh, hey, there’s an argument. Usually Tony’s the one who’s in an argument, and almost always with Cap. The guy’s just too much fun. What’re they arguing about this time?
“…’ve got to put it back—”
“You can’t unhook that, or the entire ship will blow and we ALL die!” Oh, wow, that was Bruce, and he sounded pissed. And scared. Was he about to Hulk-out?
“Tony.”
Tony blinks his eyes open. Natasha’s worried face is inches above his own. He licks his dry lips and, oh, wow, it’s getting mighty hard to breathe in here. “Oh good. Ship hasn’t…blown up yet…”
“Tony, do you have a spare reactor?”
He manages to nod. “Sent…JARVIS…”
“Where? Where is it?”
“…Tower.”
“JARVIS says he’s already contacted Pepper.” That’s Clint.
Tony would groan if he had air. He does not want to spend his last moments with his ex. She doesn’t deserve that; she’d cry and sob and call him an idiot and be stuck with the memory of him dying in front of her. No, thank you.
This, though? Surrounded by his team after saving their lives? Yeah, he can do it this way.
Natasha slaps his cheek. The pain barely registers; too much agony in his chest. “Stay awake,” she hisses.
He can’t. And he doesn’t want to.
--
The team had been living at Stark Tower—renamed Avengers Tower—for a couple of months when Clint approached him the day after a mission. “Hey, I don’t suppose you have a hot tub or Jacuzzi or something like that around here, do you?”
Tony shook his head, sucking down his coffee. “Sorry, Katniss. Electronics and tubs don’t mix.”
Clint blinked at him. “Seriously? You don’t even have bathtubs around here?”
“Nope.”
“Can you fix that? I could really use a good soak; my back is killing me.”
“Falling off of buildings and squishy mortals don’t mix, either.”
“Oh, come on. You caught me in time.” Clint batted his eyes at him. “Pleeeease? You can’t be a proper billionaire without a hot tub.”
Tony hesitated. He should’ve probably told Clint right then, that Tony Stark and stagnant bodies of water haven’t mixed since Afghanistan. That if he looked at anything bigger than a pot of water his chest burned and his breathing came in pants and his shredded heart did something it really shouldn’t do and he ended up running out of the room to have his panic attack in peace.
Instead, Tony swallowed down the fear and put on his favorite mask. “Sure thing, Bird Brain. I’ll get you a kitty pool.”
--
“You can be a real selfish bastard, you know that Stark?”
Tony paused in his work on the Iron Man suit. “That’s funny; I don’t recall doing anything to piss you off today. Did I put your panties in a twist just by living in the same building?”
Steve glared at him, arms crossed. He was in a black suit. Why was he in a suit? “Do you know what day it is today?”
“Um…no, actually. Been down here for a while and there’s no windows, kind of like a gambling den…”
“June 16th.”
Tony frowned. “Still? Guess I’m not going back up for another twelve hours.”
“Tony!” Steve snapped. “Your parents died today!”
“I know that,” Tony snapped back. “That’s why I’m down here instead of up there.”
“You refused to go to your own parents’ memorial service?”
“Yup.”
Steve looked like he was about to bust a vein. “Howard Stark was a great man, Tony. I don’t know how the hell he ended up with you.”
“You should be asking what he did to end up with ME,” Tony called after Steve. The captain didn’t even dignify that with a response, the lab doors hissing shut behind him.
Sure, Howard Stark was a great man. But he was a shit father. Tony didn’t have to talk to any kind of therapist to know that at least half of his problems came from crap parenting: the alcoholism, the shitty self-confidence, the working for days on end with no sleep and only coffee for food…
Steve wouldn’t believe him. And even if he did, he was right. Howard Stark was a great man, a much greater man than Tony. He just wasn’t a good one.
--
He’s surprised when he manages to wake up again.
It is fucking freezing, and loud. The wind is screaming in his ears. Tony’s grateful for the red blanket wrapped around him, even if it offers pitiful protection against that wind. But he’s curled up next to a warm wall and…
No. Wait. This isn’t a wall. This is an armored chest. And this isn’t a blanket. It’s a cloak.
“Anthony?” The voice makes the chest thrum with vibration. Who knew a thunder god could be so cozy?
Tony grunts out an affirmative. It’s all he can manage, with his lungs still being jerks and barely getting him enough oxygen to stay hazily conscious. Next time he falls asleep will probably be the last.
“Don’t you worry, friend Stark,” Thor says. “We’re almost to the Tower. Mjolner is the swiftest force in this world.”
Nah, Tony’s pretty sure the speed of light has the hammer beat. He can’t say that, though. He can’t keep his eyes open anymore, either. He closes them and fades out.
--
Another reason Tony Stark wished he could give Iron Man away: Pepper wanted Tony, but she hated Iron Man with a passion. Especially after the worm hole.
They managed another three months before she cut it off and moved to Malibu.
Tony drank himself into a stupor that night. So much he couldn’t see straight and ended up on his ass in the bar, slumped against the cupboards. Two pairs of feet walked up to him.
“You almost made it two years, Tony,” a disappointed voice sighed. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t Steve. It was Bruce.
“This is no way for a warrior to act, Friend Stark,” another one said. Definitely Thor. “A celebratory drink after a victory is one thing, but this is quite another.”
“Help me get him to his room.”
Thor does most of the heavy lifting, getting Tony on his feet and then half-carrying, half-dragging him to his rooms. Everything around Tony is fuzzy and swirly. If he went outside and jumped it would probably be even better, until he went ker-splat, that is. But Thor and Bruce got him in his room now so that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe next time.
Thor set him on the bed and Bruce peeled off his boots. Tony blinked at him, trying to get his eyes to focus. “Don’ deser’ you guys,” he slurred.
“Nope,” Bruce agreed. “Not one bit. Lie down.”
Tony was out before his head hit the pillow.
When the Avengers questioned him as to why he took a vacation from sobriety, Tony put on his shit-eating grin. “Just felt like partying.”
--
There’s a jolt that starts at his chest and rips through his whole body like a tidal wave on steroids. Tony gasps, his eyes snapping open.
There’s a hand on the reactor.
Tony pushes it and the person it belongs to away. He sees red hair, but can’t tell whether it’s Natasha or Pepper. Both? Neither? He scrambles back, adrenaline giving him a rush of strength.
“Tony!” she shouts. Pepper, then. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
“Don’t touch it,” he hisses.
Both of Pepper’s hands are up. “I’m not going to touch it. But I need you to calm down.”
“Friend Stark, you can relax. You’re safe now.”
Tony can’t deal with this. He can’t. The space is too small and there’s too many people and too many hands and they’re going to rip it out, they’re going to take the reactor, but they can’t do that because when Obie did it he made an evil Iron Man and was going to kill people and Tony can’t breathe they took it they took the reactor and…
“Tony!” Pepper shouts as he falls. Before he completely blacks out, he hears Thor ask, “Who is Obie?”
--
He was both relieved and disappointed when he woke up to Hulk's roar.
Flying that nuke into space was supposed to be the last hurrah. A heroic deed to end a monster's life, or some other poetic shit like that. Tony Stark should have died then. Iron Man wasn't needed anymore, not with the god of thunder and super-spies and Hulk and Captain friggin' America running around.
But Tony's a selfish bastard. He was relieved when he woke up. He even managed to trick himself into thinking that was genuine relief on Steve's face when he did.
--
The next time Tony wakes up is much better.
For starters, he’s in a bed. A large, comfy bed that he so rarely sleeps in, either because of long hours in the lab (which has a convenient couch) or nightmares. But since he’s not waking up gasping and sweating and clutching his reactor (even if he is a bit sore), then no nightmares.
With any luck, this whole shit show was just a dream.
Secondly, when he gets to his feet and to the main room, there’s coffee. The black elixir of life.
But there’s something very, very wrong when Tony pours himself a mug. He stops, sniffs it, takes a tiny sip.
He spits it out immediately and shouts: “WHAT THE FUCK?!”
Footsteps thunder toward him from all sides as he throws the offending coffee down the sink. By the time all the other Avengers are there he is royally pissed off.
“Who the hell put decaf in my coffee pot?” Tony demands.
“Friend Stark!” Thor cheers the same time Clint goes, “Really? That’s your primary concern?”
Before Tony can move or even blink, Thor has him swallowed in a massive hug. “We are so glad you’ve awoken. This mighty tower simply is not the same without you.”
“I would hope so, since it’s my damn tower,” Tony coughs. “Thor, buddy, I gotta breathe.”
Thor drops him as if he’s been burned. Tony manages to keep his balance. “Right. Coffee, J.”
“Apologies, sir,” the AI answers, “but considering your recent heart condition, caffeine is not a healthy solution for at least three days.”
“I’ve had this heart condition since Afghanistan and a coffee addiction since long before I created you,” Tony scolds. “Good, caffeinated coffee, please. Now.”
“I think he was referring the more recent heart condition,” Bruce says.
Tony pauses, trying to think. Then all the memories slam into him. “Ah, shit!”
They all jump. “What?”
“Doom! Dr. Doom! Did we get him?”
Clint slaps his forehead. “That’s your secondary concern?!”
“Hey, coffee takes precedence over the end of days, Bird Brain,” Tony explains. “Primarily because a lack of coffee will bring about the end of days. Now did you guys get Doom?”
“We got a lead from the ship,” Natasha says. “The files are encrypted, so I gave it to SHIELD.”
“You should've given it to JARVIS,” Tony complains.
“I answer to Fury, not your computer baby.”
“Hey! He is a computer MAN. I’m the baby of the family, thank you very much.”
“Babies don’t tear out their hearts for the sake of others, Tony,” Steve says quietly.
And this conversation just got way too heavy for this early in the morning (never mind that it was two in the afternoon, it was Tony’s morning). “Oh, look, coffee’s done,” Tony cheers, pouring himself a fresh mug. “Great talk, love to do it again, I gotta get to work—”
Natasha has him down on a chair before he can blink, without spilling a single drop of coffee (and for that, she shall live). “We need to talk,” she says.
“Weren’t we doing that already?” Tony asks while the others sit around the table.
“Tony,” Steve gently scolds, “If I had known you were planning on endangering yourself like that to stall for time, I never would’ve ordered you to do that.”
Tony snorts. “That was not me following orders, Cap. I didn't need your permission.”
“Your life is not worth less than some files.”
Tony gives him a look. “Weren’t we all endangering our lives on this mission? I seem to recall an awful lot of killer robots running around.”
They all give him their own variation of the stop-being-a-jackass-and-be-serious look.
Tony sighs. “Look, it was my call, I made it, and I survived. End of story. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, no pun intended.”
“And that’s what we’re worried about,” Bruce insists. “This isn’t the first time you’ve endangered yourself when you don’t have to.”
“We don’t want you to die, Tony,” Clint says.
Tony snorts. “Relax. You’re all in the will; me dying’s not going to end with you living on the streets.”
They all stare at him. Steve looks mildly ill. “Do you really think that that’s all we care about? Your money?”
“Oh, what, you’re here for my charming personality and good lucks?”
“Yes,” they all say, dead serious.
Tony blinks at them. “Um…”
“Tony,” Natasha says, “you've gotta trust us.”
He barks a laugh. “That’s rich, coming from the spy.”
Surprisingly enough, Thor’s the one who comes to Tony’s defense. “Anthony has every reason to hesitate in trusting us.”
They all turn to Thor. Steve looks between him and Tony. “Why?”
Thor hesitates, and looks at Tony. “Lady Pepper told me about Obadiah Stane. It’s not my story to tell.”
Tony sputters. Oh, goody! More betrayal. “Why would she tell you about THAT?”
“You mentioned him while you were panicking after regaining consciousness.”
“…oh. I said all of that shit out loud?”
“Indeed you did,” Thor says with a wry smile.
“Huh.” Tony sips his coffee.
“Will someone please explain to me who Obadiah Stane is?” Clint asks.
And since Thor already knows (and it’s probably only a matter of time before Pepper tells the others or they go through their own resources to get the story), Tony explains: “He was my mentor/godfather, took over the company after my parents died, worked with me when I took over, sold weapons to terrorists behind me back, paid them to kill me—which is what led to the shit show that is Afghanistan and the birth of Iron Man, no I will not go into further detail about that—and then when I stopped building weapons for him he ripped the reactor out of my chest and used it to make his own evil Iron Man, which he then used to try to kill Pepper, so she and I ended up killing him.” Tony sips more coffee.
The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Also, Bruce’s eyes are a shade greener than usual, which can’t be good news. Actually, it is good news; Tony wants to see if the Hulk-proof furniture he has in the tower is in fact Hulk-proof, and there’s really only one way to test that…
“Speaking of Pepper, where is she?” Tony asks.
“Your ex headed back to Malibu,” Clint says. “Said the whole reason she broke up with you was because she couldn’t deal with this kind of thing.”
“Sounds about right.” Tony stands. “Well, great talk, everyone. Can I go now?”
“No,” Steve says, but he can’t say any more because Natasha’s standing, too.
“You’re on bed rest for a while,” she says. “So, you can either come with us to the living room for movies, or you can be dragged back to your bedroom. Choose wisely.”
Tony groans. “But my la-ab!”
“Will still be there in the morning. You know Steve and Thor haven’t seen Star Wars, yet?”
Tony pauses. “Really?”
Nat nods.
“Seriously?! That should’ve been right up there with espresso and Internet porn.” Tony shakes his head and goes to the living room. “You guys coming, or what?”
Clint goes to make popcorn. Tony refills his coffee. As he leaves, he can hear the rest of the group whispering.
“Nat, we’ve still got a lot to talk about,” Steve hisses. “He got drunk after breaking up with Pepper and just let us assume he was being an immature ass! She mentioned some PTSD from whatever happened in Afghanistan and abuse from his father...We have some serious issues to get through.”
“Not today,” Nat says, quietly but firmly. “You can’t fix this overnight. This is going to take a while.”
“The bonds of brotherhood take years to build and strengthen,” Thor agrees, his voice a quiet rumble. “This is but the first step. Now.” A chair screeches as he stands, and he voice booms through the halls: “Let us watch this War of the Stars our friend enjoys so much!”
Tony can’t help but be a little stunned as he blindly lets them tug him into the living room and plop him on the couch, and then tuck in around him like he’s a member of their little family or something. Like they actually want him to be a part of it. And enjoy listening to him and Bruce debate over whether or not some of the technology of these movies and wide-spread telekinesis could actually be true one day.
Tony Stark only exists for Iron Man, because Iron Man is a hero who’s needed in the world. But maybe…maybe Tony is sometimes needed, too.
END