A Family of Flaws

Chapter Eight; Daily Dose Of Anxiety

Tony was sitting on his chair pulling at his hair. His shoulders rose with a new breathe, one that pushed against his chest and hurt his lungs. He was breathing too much, his heart was beating too fast. Sweat dripped down his face as he panted, pulling in pained breathes.

If they died it would be his fault. He was the one who made the suits and the weapons and the security. Anything that happened would be his fault and he couldn't handle that. All of them were at constant risk and they didn't even seem to care. Tony couldn't be the only one worried. They should be worried. Not a single one of them should put their trust in him like this, they shouldn't trust him with their lives. They were going to get hurt and upset and they might die for all he knew.

"Friday—" Tony called out, about to ask if something was wrong with him, but he cut himself off with another gasp of air. He was trying to limit his intake of breathes, each one was painful and nearly unbearable. "Gah... just... don't let... uh, anyone down here..."

If Friday answered him, Tony never heard. Tears were pricking at his eyes and his vision blurred while a painful headache emerged with a merciless rage. His nails were biting into his skin, making his knuckles go white and drawing small lines of blood as he tried to just breathe like a normal person.

He wanted to make it stop, he didn't care if he passed out or died or something other than sitting there and feeling every ounce of anxiety and stress bubble up inside of him and exit through tears and gasps of air. This wasn't okay, he wasn't okay right now, and if anyone saw this he would be mortified and they would realize how useless he was. They would know he wasn't as powerful as they thought, and they would know that he couldn't protect them like he needed to.

Another gasp of air lead to Tony choking up and letting out a loud sob, trying to quiet it by biting into his hand. This didn't feel alright. Why didn't he feel okay? There was nothing wrong a few minutes ago and now he's sobbing like a baby and acting like he never had to deal with stress until now. He should have been fine because he had dealt with unhealthy amounts of anxiety and stress since he was born but apparently his body was feeling like being uncooperative today.

He shook. Trembling; his shoulders, hands, legs. If he even tried to stand up he would no doubt collapse. Tony just sat and tried to breathe and not cry like an insolent child anymore. But god did everything just suck and he was scared for his team (his friends) because they just wouldn't take their own safety seriously. Why couldn't they get rid of him already? Throw him away and understand that they weren't safe with him. He nearly got Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey killed. He hurt people even when he wanted to love them. It could never work.

His father was right. The words stung, but the truth stuck. His father, Howard Stark, was right. He was a monster. He ruined people's lives and he hurt them and he couldn't protect them even when he promised that he would.

The ringing in his ears should have worried him. The edges of his eyes going black, the same colored dots dancing in his vision, should have worried him. The sound of Friday calling the team should have worried him. But he wasn't. Tony just kept repeating the word monster in his head over and over again. The terrible, sickly realization of what he truly was felt like a bolder slamming into him.

It felt like he had the arc reactor ripped out of him all over again. The painful, startling feeling that took away all his air and made him shut up for once. It had been one of the most terrifying things to happen to him. But now he knew, the thing that scared him the most was the thought of losing his friends.

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*Tony's POV*

  Tony was on his bed. He should not be on his bed. The clock said it was three p.m. and Tony knew he had not come up here to rest. He sat up, refusing to admit that he felt a lot better than the last time he was awake.