Monsters vs. Angel
“Why didn’t you help me, Antonio?” The olive skinned woman asked
“I’m so sorry mamma, I swear I tried to stop him, but he was so strong! I just couldn’t” The little brunette boy pleaded her to believe him. He cried as he saw bruises and blood making their way on the beautiful woman’s face.
“You couldn’t help her even if you tried you worthless freak!” Howard screamed
“I tried I swear!” The child tried to defend himself
“No you didn’t, you wanna know why? Cause you are just a selfish peace of shit, that’s why” he said smirking at his crying son “and no matter what you do” he slowly stalked towards the boy “you’ll always be a selfish” a punch brought the kid to his knees “pathetic” a kick to the boy’s stomach made him fall backwards landing on his back “worthless” the man kneeled down to be able to throw another punch at his son, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt “waste of air!”
“No! It’s not true!” Tony yelled desperately
“It’s not? Then why don’t you look for yourself then!” The man dragged the boy to a mirror so that he would be able able to look at himself. He did so. He was white as a sheet, bruises gracing his small features, ribs poking through his shirt, no hints of muscles. He was incredibly small for his age. Nothing special. Useless. Weak. Tears fell on his cheeks. “Are you crying boy?!” Howard grabbed his face turning it so that it faced him. A slap prompted him to respond “answer me!”
“Y-yes… yes sir” he cried out as another slap made its way to his face
“Stark men don’t cry!” His father whispered angrily “repeat!” He screamed
“S-Stark men d-don’t cry!” He tried desperately to stop crying
“Might as well kill you” Howard said as he broke the mirror, taking a shard in hand “no one will ever love a worthless freak like you, right? Not even your friends! Cause they don’t love you, do they? They have never loved you and will never love you! Not them, not anyone!” He said laughing
“You’re lying! Stop! Stop! STOP!” The little boy screamed. But he didn’t stop, he never stopped. He never stopped calling him pathetic, worthless, stupid, freak, weak. He held in his tears as his father approached, refusing to be weak. But he was, wasn’t he? No matter what he’ll do he’ll always be weak. Unwanted. Useless. Unlovable. His father got closer and closer. He raised the shard, ready to strike and-
“Stark!” Tony woke up, gasping for air. It was the same dream he’d had for the past few weeks. His only relief it’s been that Howard was dead. Which brought his mind to Maria. His mamma. Who died at the hands of the man that was seated in front of him and was watching him with a weird expression on his face. Sure, she wasn’t the best mum, always on heavy antidepressants mixed with wine, making her mostly absent from his life, but she didn’t deserve to die like that. Barnes caught his eye and looked away guiltily. The dreams had been about him too. Him and Steve, beating the crap out of him. But they had been mostly about his past. Howard. And the Avengers. The Avengers betraying him. The Avengers killing him. But the worst ones were about him ripping the Avengers apart. Him betraying them. Him killing them. He was gonna destroy this family too. What remained of it at least. He had destroyed it once, and he was gonna do it again. It broke him. The knowledge that he was gonna do something, say something and it all would be over. A cool hand pressed gently against his shoulder. He looked over to see Nat staring at him calmly with a hint of concern in her eyes.
“We’re here” she said, tearing his thoughts away from his nightmares
“What?” He asked dumbly still not completely used to reality.
“I said we’re here, котёнок” Nat huffed.
“I’m not a kitten!” he whined childishly “if anything I’m a tiger- or a lion, yeah, I’m definitely a lion. A big, strong, genius, humble lion” he said smugly
She rolled her eyes “whatever you say, котёнок” Tony did a wrong copy of the military salute and followed her out of the car with Barnes, Wilson and Maximoff. Maximoff frowned as she looked at him. Weird. As they boarded the Quinjet he noticed that the others were already there. Rogers eagerly waved Barnes over, patting the seat next to him. Wanda made a beeline for the seat next to Vision. Sam went straight for the seat between Clint and Lang. Tony went for the pilot seat and Nat for the co-pilot. “What was your dream about?” She asked before he could open his mouth. He wondered for a moment, what would would happen if he told her the truth. By lying he could put their relationship on the line, but by telling the truth the result would be the same cause he didn’t tel the truth sooner. So both ways, he was gonna endanger their… whatever this was, but in one case he was showing himself as weak. What was she gonna think of him if he told her he couldn’t even protect his own mother? So, change of subject it was
“What else would I dream of if not of you?” He said winking at her
“First of all, ugh gross, second of all it sounded like you were having a nightmare” Nat said. She looked into his eyes and challenged him to prove her wrong. He couldn’t prove her wrong, but he could stall as long as he could
“Wait- ‘gross’? What am I? Chopped liver?” She just raised an eyebrow. He sighed “What nightmare are you talking about?” He asked. He could see the flicker of smugness in her eyes
“The nightmare you had in the car” she said. Tony thought about his options for a moment. Either lie and risk ruining their… whatever they had, or tell the truth and let her know he had lied to her for years. Well, not lied, omitted the truth was more like it. But she would still think of it as betrayal. Which meant either way would be harmful to their relationship, and even though she already disliked him, he couldn’t bear seeing the hatred- or worse, pity in her eyes. So, lying was the best choice once again
He swallowed and glanced away to seem vulnerable “Afghanistan” the choked out word was enough for her, and she didn’t notice the lie
He didn’t notice her watching him for the rest of the flight either
***
Tony woke up screaming for the umpteenth time, his throat raw and voice hoarse, jumping up and trying to run because they were in danger he had to get to them he had to run he had to protect them from himself- but something grabbed his foot and he fell, hitting his head. His head pulsed but he had to move he had to save them he had to protect them- he tried to crawl towards the door but his head spun and there were spots in his vision and he had to go… he- he had to… to go… he… save them- everything went black.
Tony was woken by the sound of the Avengers alarm blaring. His head was pounding and when he tried to get up he found his foot was tangled in the sheets. Huh, so that’s what ‘grabbed’ him. The alarm blared again hurting his head and he got up slowly, trying to get the room to stop spinning. Once it did he undressed in a hurry, realising distantly that there was blood on the back of his shirt, wrapped the bandages around the Arc Reactor and threw on the under-suit. He ran (read: stumbled) to the wall-length window which opened automatically. The wind slapped his face as he looked down and oh god rhodey was falling and it was his fault his faulthisfaulthisfault- he shook his head and jumped. He called the suit and it wrapped around him making him soar through the sky to reach the others. “Whatts goin’ n?” He asked through the comms slurring his words. He must have hit his head harder then he thought
“Finally gracing us with your presence Stark?” Clint asked, his voice full of spite
“About time” Sam murmured sounding out of breath
“Stark where the hell were you?!” Steve asked
“I-”
“No wait” Clint interrupted him “I don’t want to hear how much he drank”
“I wasn-”
Clint stopped him again “Yeah, sure you weren’t, it’s not like you’re slurring and flying in late because you are drunk”
“‘m not-”
“You’re drunk?!” Steve yelled
He had to close his eyes as his head pulsed even more. All the yelling was making his head hurt so much he felt dizzy. He opened them again and kept quiet, he wouldn’t probably make any sense in this state.
And there was no point in arguing really. After all, he knew Clint, and when he was hurt he lashed out. And right now he was more hurt than Tony had ever seen him. He felt betrayed and he couldn’t even his family without a guard in the room and it was all thanks to Tony.
He arrived at the battle scene and finally found out what was going on.
There was an army of sorcerers trying to take over New York. There was something wrong about the sorcerers though, they all had completely white eyes and they seemed… void. Their faces slack and expressionless. And, holy shit was that Wong?! His eyes were glazed over and white, like everybody else’s. This was all wrong
Also, where was Strange? Shouldn’t he be there to take care of it? Wasn’t this his field of expertise? “Fri, ‘ntact Strange” nothing happened “Fri?” He started panicking “Friday?!” Nonono not his baby girl too not her too not like J please no “I think they did som’ing to fri” he raised his voice to be heard by the others. But he got no reply. They couldn’t hear him. Okay, it was okay he just had to get to the others and then he could just tell them in person.
He fought his way to the others but then there was a sorcerer throwing something at Wanda and she couldn’t hear him so he put himself between the two.
The thing hit him square in the chest.
At first nothing happened but then he was burning burning and falling falling like Rhodey falling like Pepper falling fallingfallingfallingfalling- he crashed on a rooftop, feeling something in his left arm crack, his ribs flashing in pain, the breath knocked out of him. He skidded to a halt at the edge of the roof. He tried to breathe but the suit was trapping him, pressing on his arc reactor. He pressed the release button and took a mouthful of air as soon as the suit opened, coughing and spitting blood.
Huh. Blood. He must have bitten his tongue
A spark flew from the armour, burning his shoulder. He jumped away from the suit. It was completely and utterly destroyed.
He fell heavily on his back, trying to regulate his breathing. When he finally pulled his shit together he heard someone laugh. He looked over the edge of the building he was on, which was thankfully only two floors high, and saw the person that was probably controlling all the sorcerers since his eyes were clearly black instead of white, and his face wasn’t slack but full of pure delight.
He was facing all the other avengers who were held by at least five white eyed sorcerers each. They couldn’t see him and the sorcerer in control hadn’t noticed him yet. Wanda freed herself with a spurt of her power, sending the five sorcerers flying and pointed her powers toward the sorcerer in command. She must have understood that the others were basically dummies as well.
He only laughed at her attempt to hurt him as he had just dodged it. He said something, and even if Tony couldn’t hear him from the ringing that was becoming louder and louder in his ears, he could still read his lips and got something about playing a game. He started levitating, flying almost as high as the building Tony was on, and then e cloned himself. There were tens of him.
Meanwhile the other Avengers had stopped struggling, their eyes glazed over and white.
Wanda tried to hit him again, and she did, but it was probably just a clone and not the original, because it just disappeared, replaced by another immediately. She tried and tried again, failing every time.
The sorcerer was clearly enjoying himself as they were all laughing. He was so sure he had won.
But,Tony noticed something that Wanda probably didn’t: there was a glitch. Everyone moved almost exactly at the same time, but there was one, only one of the sorcerers that was moving just less than half a second before the others, and he was directly under Tony.
Tony could yell at her that he was the one, the one that was controlling everyone, but then they would lose the element of surprise.
So he ran to his suit ad grabbed a pointy piece of the scalding hot armour, his hands burning his hands burning because he trusted Howard once again and now they burn burn burn burnburnburnburnburnburnburnburnburn- and pulled until it detached from the rest of the suit. He took a couple of steps back and ran toward the edge.
Tony jumped
He landed on the sorcerer, the real one since it didn’t just disappear, wrapping his legs around him and his left arm around the sorcerer’s neck to avoid falling. His arm hurt from the previous fall but he didn’t let go. They struggled for a few moments and then he finally was able to stab the sorcerer’s stomach, in a non lethal point, making him scream in pain and grab his arm, twisting it off of him and pressing his palm to Tony’s chest, a warm feeling expanding through him.
And then he disappeared in thin air
And then Tony was falling. A scream was trapped in his throat as he fell and in what seemed to be the no time he was almost on the ground.
Then he was surrounded by red mist.
Wanda slowed his fall but couldn’t stop it completely and he landed badly on his ankle.
He hissed but ignored it, getting to his feet and running to the others
They were all looking around in confusion. He stopped and let out a breath when he saw they were all okay minus some minor scratches and bruises.
“You ‘kay?” He asked Clint who seemed to be holding his left side
“Yes” he replied harshly “I’d be better if you actually had your head in the game and weren’t drunk off your ass, maybe this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you!” He yelled enraged. Clint left him there, eyes wide and shocked at the notion that he would think Tony would actually come to a battle drunk.
No one noticed when he turned around, eyes cast down and went to Wong, knowing the Avengers wouldn’t care for his concern, nor be concerned about him.
As soon as Wong noticed Tony his expression changed from one of confusion to one of concern “Stark, are you okay?”
His head hurt, his chest hurt, his hands hurt, his left arm hurt and his right ankle absolutely throbbed with pain “Mmmmm, yeah, think so” god he was tired
Wong frowned “You’re slurring, did you hit your head?”
He nodded absentmindedly “doesn’ matter now, whers Strange?”
Wong’s frown became deeper “He’s away on a mission as the Supreme Sorcerer, do you need medical?”
He shook his head, which made the world spin and spots come into his vision. He walked away towards the building on which his suit was. He had to fix the suit and… what was it? Right, F.R.I.D.A.Y.
He forgot things often this last year, ever since Ultron, things like food. It’s not that he forgot as much as it was that he didn’t feel the need anymore. He just wasn’t hungry. And when before there was Rhodey to force him to eat, now he had no one. Sure, F.R.I.D.A.Y. tried, but she was just a child, and she couldn’t do much yet. Usually he forgot about eating, but sometimes about other things too.
Like when just today he forgot to put on shoes.
Tony limped through the rubble, his naked feet being cut by the glass on the ground, leaving behind bloody footsteps. He called two suits two him, one wrapping around him, the other taking the destroyed suit, both going to the compound.
As soon as he touched the ground he went to the workshop’s shower. He entered without getting out of his clothes and turned it on cold, putting his burned hands under the water. He hissed as the bright red, blistered and swollen hands made contact with it, some of the burned skin falling down the drain. After it stopped hurting he dunk his head under the water, watching as pink water went into the drain. Once the water wasn’t pink anymore he turned off the water and got out, shivering. He undressed, dried, and dressed in some sweats and a long sleeved shirt. He wrapped bandages loosely around his hands and inspected his other injuries.
His torso was bruised, probably a couple of bruised ribs. His left upper arm was red and swollen, nothing major, but it still hurt. His head had bled a lot, but after all that’s what head wounds do. It was just a concussion, didn’t need any stitches, and it was going to heal by itself. The bottom of his feet were full of little cuts. And finally, his ankle. It was very swollen and red and walking on it wasn’t the best of ideas.
He sighed
He limped to the hidden door in his bathroom and opened it, entering the secret room inside and picked up an ice pack for each injury but his hands’ and crutches and then went back to his couch, laid down, using the crutches to move, being careful to close the door behind him.
He put an alarm on his phone to wake him up every three hours, for the concussion.