Tony Stark one shots

An ever watchful eye

An unseeing eye slid down from gunmetal gray heavens. High definition screens cocooned in Helicarrier depths. Light fazed into dark. And the debrief began.

Images seen through the haze of mounting trepidation kaleidoscoped onto the screen. An elevator shaft cobwebbed with fractures and dust. A jigsaw of broken timber and steel. Light piercing the small tunnel high above his head. A beam of hope shadowed on a night sky. A sky that blended seamlessly into a morass of black hung with a barbed wire netting of twinkling light. A beauty terrible in it's brilliance. Frigid blues tinged with the aura of white stars lit the flame of memory. Tony clenched fists that steadily started to shake. Blunt nails digging deep into the tender flesh of his palms. Bit down on lips tingling with incipient panic and swallowed down the knot in his stomach. Light seared his vision. The silent scream of a host of souls extinguished morphed with the muted sobs of the child in his arms. And Tony's world, an angry heated orange hue trailing smoke of brown and gray, caught fire. Heart rate accelerating, he gazed through eyes that refused to blink at an unforgiving screen. Watched himself shuck the armor, wrap the child so quiet, so trusting~Make her safe. Keep her safe~ into the chest plate before he sank to his knees. Bile thick on his tongue. Unprotected in a dark, cold place that stank of rank fear sweat. That echoed with dripping water. Walls closing in close enough to touch him.

Distantly he registered himself pushing back his chair. The clatter of wood on steel floor calling attention to him. He sunk to the floor. Pushed himself back against the Carrier's walls. Engines thrummed through his back, up over his shoulders and reached deep into his soul, Syncopated heartbeats. His and his creation. Soaring higher. No air. No peace. Just all the encompassing obsidian soup of fear. Hands reached out in his peripheral vision. Big, heavy, male. Shadows closing in. Many. Too many. Fingers closed on his arms, dug in deep and on a sob Tony's world shattered.

Natasha felt rather than saw the change in Tony. The aura of movement, of life than he wore as close as skin suddenly ceased and Tony was still. Preternaturally still. He was barely breathing. Low, shallow, ragged. Her eyes fell to his clenched hands. Noted the thin streaks of vivid red against white knuckles. Moved up to his face and froze. Tony was white to his lips. She watched as he pulled in a shattered breath, released a broken sob and fell to his knees his fingers uncurling to push himself back against the wall. One hand clasped his chest, the other raised defensively. Eyes flicking left to right she took in the stances of her team mates as they moved swiftly to Tony's side and Tony's reaction to them. Took them in, cataloged her response and acted. Standing between Tony and the others she raised a hand and breathed out one word.

"Cease."

Dropping into a protective stance a foot from Tony, she shook her head as Cap again moved forward. She pointed sharply at the far wall. Explanation succinct.

"Flashback. Multi-layered. Cross remembered. You're all male. Just like they were before."

Not waiting to see if they obeyed, Natasha turned back to Tony. She could see the pulse pounding in his neck. His eyes wild and panicked. Totally unseeing his surroundings. Moving slowly, telegraphing her movements, she inched closer. Enough that Tony could scent her. Soft murmurs fell from Tony's white lips. A grab bag of languages. Listening intently, she picked up varying dialects, German, Arabic, Italian. French. Latching onto the last, Natasha focused hard. "Maman". Blinking hard, Natasha began repeating Tony's name softly. Low, lyrical. A melody for a broken child. A minute went by. A heartbeat of lifetimes. Damp eyelashes lifted hesitantly. Brown eyes focusing slowly on her. Unsure. Afraid. A voice wrecked for the barbs of forced down nightmares.

"Tasha?"

Natasha smiled softly, held out a hand slowly. Touched Tony's knee tentatively. The eye of the storm.