Tony stares at the bodies in front of him, not fully comprehending what he’s seeing. It’s dark. Darker than it had been seconds ago, and the landscape is different, but somehow, his brain doesn’t compute the fact as dread fills him beyond bursting.
“You could have saved us,” Cap gasps.
It’s obvious what he’s talking about. Obvious what has managed to take down his whole team. The Chitauri have returned, and Tony didn’t even notice, despite being prepared. Because Tony knew the invasion was coming, didn’t he? He had tried, hadn’t he? He’s made the Iron Legion. That was supposed to help, but somehow, it’s not doing anything. Cap, Thor, Natasha, Clint, Bruce; they’re all still dead at his feet.
Guilt claws at his chest and he heaves with sobs as he falls to his knees. He’s failed them all. How did he let himself fail them all? How had he gone from being on a team, being part of a family, and being the reason they’re dead.
“Why didn’t you do more?”
Why didn’t he do more?
Why didn’t he do more?
“Tony?”
“Why didn’t I do more?”
Tony aches. Everything hurts in a way that goes far beyond the physical. He aches in a way that promises he’ll never feel a release. It’s grief, self-hatred and anger all rolled into one unfathomable understanding that Tony caused this. That he’s the reason his team didn’t make it.
“Stark, come in!”
They sound alive, but their bodies scream otherwise. It’s louder than the exasperated worry in his ear, the false hope that what he’s seeing isn’t real. But he’s long since learned to trust his eyes, not voices. He should have seen through Obadiah’s fatherly words and accepted that the man was a crook, through and through. He should have believed what he saw when he went through the portal rather than listen to the claims that he was overreacting by the team.
He shouldn’t have listened to them, because look where that got him?
“Anyone got eyes on Stark?”
Tony looks at the cold, dead eyes of Natasha. They’re staring at him like they’re seeing into his soul and asking him why. Why did he allow this to happen? Wasn’t Ironman supposed to be a hero, even if Tony Stark wasn’t? Wasn’t he supposed to be a better person once the suit was on?
“I see him, Captain, but he seems… unwell. Perhaps it is some kind of seizure?”
Tony doesn’t really hear the noises anymore, not now that he’s convinced himself they’re a work of fiction, simply his mind trying to lure him into a fantasy.
“Grab him, we need to regroup. Barton’s been hit.”
The words send a jolt of panic through Tony, electrifying his spine and making him feel more of a failure. Barton has been hit, Tony knows this already because he’s on the ground, unmoving, not five inches from Natasha's body. They’ve all been hit. It looks as though there had been a huge battle and Tony completely missed it. He doesn't even know where he was, or how he missed it, but he did.
His body moves and he feels strangely light. Maybe death came back to the scene to claim him too? He doesn't know what his reaction is supposed to be. He definitely shouldn’t be happy about it. Shouldn’t feel any amount of relief, but he does.
“That’s not a seizure. He looks as though he’s caught in… I don’t know. A memory, perhaps? Was there anyone else inside the building?”
“Strucker mentioned twins. I think they were enhanced. Maybe one of them got in his head.”
Tony’s body is laid down somewhere, and it allows the crushing weight to return to his chest. Breathing is more of a chore than it was before, but he’s not sure how to remedy it. Does he even deserve to breath, after everything he’s done? Probably not. If his team are dead, there’s no reason for him to hang around. Except, well, Pepper.
Her name brings renewed pain. Did she die with the rest of them? Did he fail to save her? Again?
“Pepper,” he groans.
“Reckon he’s lost it?”
“Clint, I swear to god, if you don’t sit still and stay quiet, I’ll tie you to the gurney.”
“Gee, Nat. You’re such a sweetheart.”
“Tony?”
The voice comes through clear, along with a hand squeezing his shoulder. It sounds like Steve, but it can’t be.
His eyes have barely closed this entire time, so it’s strange when he opens them to find himself on the Quinjet, surrounded by his very-much-alive team.
“What happened?”
Steve smiles, and it’s bright and wonderful and not dead at all. He looks relieved as if Tony were the one who was dead just a minute ago.
“Sorry, Cap,” Tony hisses, closing his eyes tight. “I’m the reason you die.”
He opens his eyes in time to see Steve recoil and watch as everyone else turns to stare at him.
“What… Tony, what’re you talking about?”
Bruce pulls down his headphones, no doubt blaring some dull opera, and walks to his side, a blanket covering his shoulders. He looks pale and shaky on his feet, so Natasha helps him get steadier.
“I saw you all. You were… you were dead.”
“We’re not dead, Tony,” Steve tells him. “See? We’re very much alive. Look at us!”
And they are, Tony can see that, but what was he seeing before?
“I think I might have been hallucinating or something,” he says. “I’m not sure. But I saw you all? The Chitauri were back, and you were all… and Cap said I could have saved them, but I didn’t.”
The team take his words with shocked expressions and strained grimaces.
“Tony, it wasn’t real,” Clint promises. “We’re not sure what happened, but Thor found you on the ground in the lab and we brought you here. No one died. We’re all safe.”
Much as he may wish to believe that, he can’t. they may be alive now, but he has the very distinct impression that it won’t stay that way. And the Chitauri are definitely coming back. He saw their fleet. He knows they’re out there. It’s just a matter of time, and all Tony needs to do is make sure that he can stop them when the time comes.
“Ok,” he whispers. “Ok. You’re alive now. That’s what matters.”
Tony vows to do whatever he can to make sure it stays that way.