Anthony stark was cold.
It wasn’t a normal kind of cold however, it was a cold he only felt occasionally, a kind of cold that made him want to scream and fight, but made him also want to close his eyes and accept it with open arms.
He knew what this was. It was how he felt when he woke up on that operating table in Afghanistan, with another mans very steady hands stuck in his chest. It was how he felt when he had carried the nuke into space, fully aware that it’s vast darkness could very well be where his body was to be lost for eternity. It was how he felt when he hit the ground afterwards and as much as he tried to will himself to move, couldn’t get back up until something, a scream of pure rage, jump-started his heart. It was how he felt falling under the waves of his home, his home that had just been obliterated by terrorists.
This was the cold Anthony Stark always felt when he knew he was going to die.
The cold he had felt too many damn times for it to be “a miracle” anymore.
He guessed that’s why they started calling him invincible.
The Invincible Iron Man.
But he knew how truly vulnerable he was. And apparently so did his foe this time around.
He had no idea that there was such a weak spot in his armor. He thought he would have been fine getting shot at while shoving a much more not-bulletproof Clint out of the way. But he wasn’t, they had somehow managed to hit a weak spot in his armor, penetrating the defenses and harming tony dearly. While also cutting off the power and connection for him to move, and he fell. He fell into the rocks and rubble of the street down below. Even the armor audio had cut out.
Nobody could even hear him scream.
he could feel the bullet jostling around in his body, the only other part of him that wasn’t entrapped in the frigid cold. The burning hot sensation of his blood gushing out, and staining the inside of his suit and clothes dark red.
He thought for a moment of just accepting it, like he had been tempted all those other times as well. He could die, and his friends would mourn, but they would get over it, and find someone else, someone stronger and better, and maybe even smarter to replace him. probably.
He thought of accepting it, to finally be released from his pain. The bullets pain of course. But also the pain of carrying all of his emotions on the inside, it’s not like he wanted to. He just…didn’t know how. How to open up, embrace people into his life in a clear and honest level. The only time he had ever managed was with Rhodey, and he didn’t even know how he did it.
The pain of finally realizing what he had been born to do, what had been breed into and carved into his blood, and beaten over and over again and forged like a lump of metal into a shining sword. Only to discover that the sword was double edged. And killing those he had hoped to protect.
The pain of carrying the arc reactor inside his chest, reminding him of the months he spend in the caves of Afghanistan. The pain of watching the man who saved his life die for him, Tony promising him to be a better man.
He hoped he had kept his promise.
He could feel the world slow around him, every action and movement took a great deal of effort, even breathing. He was sure the bullet had punctured a lung.
Tony Stark felt the numbness and disconnection of death.
He wondered if anyone would miss him.
Probably not.
He heard the faint yelling. Shouting, harsh words he couldn’t understand.
He felt himself start to move. He struggled to do anything, even breathing had become an intense effort. And he could hear the faint and pathetic noises he was making. And someone whispering sharply into his ears.
“…with me, Stark”
Come with me Stark.
Obie.
NO no, not Stane, anyone but Stane, no please god–it had to be Stane.
It was this moment, for the first time in his life, Tony Stark had ever accepted the idea of an afterlife. Of Heaven and Hell.
And he knew where he was going. It’s not like he expected anything else anyway.
Hell was probably too good for him.
A jolting pain shot through him, shocking him, it was Tony last line of defense against death, he had added a defibrillator into a part of the arc reactors design, he had forgotten all about that. He could feel just the slightest bit of energy come back into his body.
With great effort, he slit open his eyes.
He could see the Iron Man suit ripped to shreds not too far away. Blood pooling around the suit.
He watched as he was dragged away from the armor.
Dragged away from his body.
He felt himself being taken in by the darkness.
He couldn’t fight it anymore.
He died.
…………………..
Tony Stark opened his eyes in a bright white room.
Someone next to him jolted up and started shouting immediately.
The voice sounded like….Bruce?
For the next few hours, people with blurry faces kept coming and going. But one stayed. He wasn’t sure who it was, he couldn’t see them very well. But it couldn’t have been Bruce. No way in Hell did the Hulk manage to die.
This was a trick, to let down Tony’s guard.
This was Hell.
Tony wished he could scream.
But instead he felt a sharp pain in his neck and fell back into an uncomfortable sleep.
………………….
Tony Stark opened his eyes once again in the bright room. It was darker this time however. He looked out at a window in the room. The sky was dark.
Does Hell have a day-night cycle?
He could see everything clearly, there was no blur, no buzzing in his head, no other noise besides his slightly unsteady breathing.
He looked around the room.
There was a man in a fuzzy over-sized purple sweater with glasses slipping down his face. His eyes were closed. He was asleep.
For a minute he considered the possibility he wasn’t in Hell, maybe he survived. Doubtful, but a possibility.
He tried to speak.
The small and pathetic attempt at his name “Bruce.” barely made any noise in the room.
It was enough. Thank god for all our forced light sleeping habits.
“Tony!” Bruce shouted as he practically dove for the bedside. Falling onto his knees to be eye level with him.
Bruce was babbling, asking if he was okay, if he needed to call the doctor. At least get him some water?
At that moment, Tony realized just how dry and scratchy his throat was. He would have loved water.
But he could barely speak, with intense and forceful effort, Tony managed to get a “Wa…” sound out of his mouth. But Bruce and Tony had worked together on scientific breakthroughs with only a few groans and incoherent muttering. Familiarity broke through and Bruce hurriedly stood up to get him what he wanted.
“So,” Tony had finally regained a decent amount of his voice after 5 glasses. It was still rash and horse, but it worked. “Are you the one who drew the short stick and are waiting on my beck and call until I’m out of here?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Aaaaannd there he is, Tony Stark.” Bruce threw his hands up into the air. “Making jokes 3 hours after he woke up from being in a coma for 7 days.”
“Seven!?” Tony almost chocked.
Bruce looked at him funny. “Did you forget you almost died?”
“Almost dying is like my signature move.” Tony muttered.
“Well you certainly stepped your game up. Clint told me as thanks he was going to wear nothing but Iron Man themed clothes for a whole month as thanks.”
Tony imagined that and laughed. “He wouldn’t get through one hour.”
Bruce smiled for a moment, then his eyes grew concerned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call a doctor?”
“We’re both doctors right here.”
“I meant an M.D, Smartass.”
“Why do you keep asking that anyway? If I look like garbage just tell me.”
“You look like garbage anyway.”
“Walked right into that one.”
“Tony…” Bruce bit his lip and looked away for a moment, then refocused on the man in front of him. “You didn’t just almost die.”
Tony knew it was a trap. He waited for Bruce to continue, to welcome him into eternal pain and suffering. (It’s not like he wasn’t used to it.)
“Your heart stopped beating four times before we even made it to the hospital. Thor had to keep frying you just so you would stay anywhere in the zone of savable.” Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “We all watched you die Tony, over and over again. I had to be tranquilized so the other guy wouldn’t run out and wreck the whole state of New York looking for that son of a bitch. He’s really attached to all of you. I am too.”
“Bruce.”
“Yeah Tony?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Jesus!” Bruce shot up from Tony’s side. Looking completely horrified. “Jesus Tony! Nobody is mad at you for almost—for actually fucking dying over and over again!”
“Please try not to Hulk out Bruce, I’ve literally died several times recently.”
Bruce froze and looked somberly down at Tony.
“Believe me, I know.” He replied. Then there was a mostly comfortable silence.
“I uh, I was suppose to call Cap “The exact very second Tony wakes up”. So I’ve got to make a call, and you,” Bruce pointed a finger at him. “Better get ready for being fussed over by everyone until you’re discharged.” With that statement, Bruce stood up, grabbed his phone, and closed the door with a quiet click.
Tony Stark finally figured out in that moment, lying alone in a clean hospital bed, that if he were to die, there were people who would miss him. People who would be so desperate to keep him alive that they would chose to suffer and watch their friend die over and over again just to get the chance to save him.
Tony wanted to say he could feel his heart swell, and while he did feel a great deal of affection for his team. his team. But there was also an underlying fear, a fear of them being willing to put themselves on the line for him. Which is something he never wanted to happen. Something he could never experience. Not again.
So Tony Stark didn’t know how to feel staring up and the dark sky, with the brightest of stars shining brilliantly in the night sky.