p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e

pansies

But what if?

It was all his fault.

Tony stomped angrily toward the Mark 60 and shoved his arms into some armour that was lying around. The 60 was unfinished, and as a result, not within JARVIS's control. Only Tony had command privileges.

"Spar mode," he told it. 

If anything were to happen to them, it would be his fault.

He parried every blow with his forearms, ducking and turning and counter balancing with thrusters. 

She wouldn't have gone on that little trip if it weren't for him.

But it's not just Pepper, not just Morgan...

He was confronted with the mental case files of every person he'd ever let down and it filled him with righteous fury. 

The suit took a swing and he didn't duck. It caught him square in the shoulder, again in the stomach. 

"Sir-"

"Not now."

A hit to the ribs sent him flying into the drywall, which buckled and cracked. His phone pinged and he knew it was Peter returning his text. 

Peter, shot in the back at sixteen years old because the suit Tony made him wasn't enough to protect him. It failed him. He failed him.

Oh god, Peter...

Peter who brought him back from the dead, from the battle.

Peter who saved him, and barely saved himself in the meantime.

Peter who risked everything for him. 

Mark 60 stalked toward him, and he never told it to stop. 

He told it to keep going. 

There were crunching noises and blinding pain which he didn't do much to prevent until the phone rang. 

Shit, that could be Pepper calling.

"St-stop it, pause," he croaked, through the blood on his lips and the floor.

Shit shit shit, I broke like, multiple things.

JARVIS was talking in the distance, but Tony couldn't hear. He hobbled over to the table and reached out for his phone, when he realised too late. 

Magnetised.

Natasha's knife went hurtling toward his metal-clad hand and when he didn't move, didn't try to, it embedded itself in his gut. 

He stared at his stomach in horror.

The phone rang. 

Shit. 

The screen said Bill Nye.

"Your vitals have spiked, shall I notify-"

"Not now!"

He fumbled with the buttons and put it to his ear. 

"Hello?"

"Yeah hey I'm right outside the door. Which is locked. By the way. I've been sent to ask if you want lunch."

"No. M'fine. Thank you."

"...are you okay?"

"Mhmm."

He was leaning awkwardly over the table and when he tried to stand, his knees gave out and he landed on his ass. A tiny voice was calling from the speaker and muffled quietly outside the door.