Weaponry
You get back at the compound and wish more than anything you could go home right now.
You head to the weaponry, putting back a gun and ammo. Maybe you shouldn't go on missions, you'll just fuck everything up.
You had managed to hide the gunshot wound from everybody by holding your hand over it and leaning against surfaces to keep it hidden. Nobody had noticed it, thankfully.
You lean tiredly against one of the racks, staring down at one of the guns. Would it really be so bad to just pull the trigger? Who would miss you? It seems like -- no, it is like you're just the last option for everybody, every mission. Nobody truly needs you and you certainly don't need yourself ruining everybody's lives.
You reach down for the pistol, clenching your jaw tightly.
Just load it and put it to your temple, pull the trigger here. You won't be alive to see everybody's reactions, you'll be nothing. Nothing seems better than this.
"Hey." You jump. It was Tony. Tony.
Tony walked further into the weaponry and you set down the gun, feeling your hands tremble from the surprise. What was Tony doing here?
"How was the mission?" he asked, and you tried desperately to swallow the lump in your throat.
How could you look at him after the last time? After you almost broke down -- after you slammed the door on his face. You were distancing yourself from everybody else, you couldn't talk to him.
"Uh, good," You said, your voice coming out more as a broken whisper. You sucked in a breath and held it, silently praying he didn't think anything of the whisper.
Tony assessed you, eyes scanning your face. You felt bare. It seemed like he could see everything despite all the walls, all the protection you've built up.
"I was going to take your spot on that mission but something had come up with Peter and his suit, had to help him with that," Tony said, leaning against the rack as well, crossing his arms.
You nodded, avoiding talking. You didn't want to even try to talk.
So that was it. You really were the last choice, last option for every mission. It was only because Tony couldn't take your spot, you fought -- and fucked everything up.
Tony didn't take his eyes off of you. He smiled. You didn't return it. You couldn't. Your lips were stuck in a permanent frown and you didn't know what to do.
"Are you okay?" he whispers, and you can't properly breathe with him near you anymore.
You can't even nod. You look away and push yourself off of the rack, starting for the exit quickly. You can't be here. You can't.
"Hey -- wait --" Tony pushes himself off as well, starting for you, but you don't let him follow, keeping a fast pace ahead down the hall.
"Shut up!" You said, a sob escaping you.
You clap a hand to your mouth and practically start running down the hall, darting out to your car.
You don't hear Tony chasing you.