Day 80
He sinks to his knees in the sand as hard wind blasts sand against his skin, stinging and biting him. The sun beats him down with harsh burning savage claws. Particles of sand slice across his face stinging his eyes and searing his skin. He isn’t going to make it. After all of that… after everything, he isn’t going to make it. The sun will scorch him, the sand will cut and sting him. He will die crumpled in some weak position while the winds and sands bury him. He will be lost to the sands never to be found again. He lets himself lay down on the hot unsteady ground. It burns him, but he doesn’t move. He pulls the remains of the leather work coat over his head to block the sun and the sand, and he closes his eyes. He lets his mind wander and he blots out the sun beating him down, and sand burying him. His mind wanders back home. Cool waters and luxury life. He misses it, but more than that he misses the people. His friends. Pepper and Rhodey. Are they waiting for him, or have they given up on him? Have they resigned themselves to the belief that he is gone? Soon it would be true. He had had a shot at living, at changing, but that chance was gone now, blown away by the desert winds.
Don’t waste it.
A man died for him. It is wrong. He hates it. He almost wants to die.
Don’t waste it. Don’t waste your life.
The man’s words echoing in his mind are what give him the strength to stand up. He might die, no he will die, but he is going to do so fighting. He has to.
It comes like a roar, and wonderful roar filling the air and blowing sand around him. The two massive metal contraptions sail over his head in a whirlwind of sound and sand.
He is saved.