Shadowplay | Tony Stark

FIFTY - NUMBER THREE

Clint's advice had stayed strong at the front of Tony's mind since the words passed through his lips. While the battle they'd endured as a team had been a lot more difficult than they'd anticipated, the advice had acted as a catalyst to Tony's extra lease of life and resurgence of energy that ultimately ended up carrying The Avengers through their toughest mission yet.

There had been countless times Tony hadn't had to think twice about sacrificing himself for the greater good of the world, and on a number of occasions he had narrowly escaped actually doing that.

On that particular mission, however, Tony knew he had to make it home alive, no matter what. There were to be no sacrifices, no loss, no empty seats on the way back to New York where he or anybody else should be sat. No, Clint had instilled an understanding of appreciation into Tony that he hadn't discovered before, making the power he'd always held feel suddenly a lot heavier.

Tony always knew he had a purpose and after avoiding death in captivity a lifetime ago, he'd spent the rest of his years thinking that his reasoning for being put on the planet was to protect it and ultimately, to avenge it.

His opinion had changed, though. Meeting Mila had almost been some kind of awakening for him, gifting him the experience of being loved and appreciated that he'd never felt before. He'd always been important to governments and businesses, but never to one person the way he was to Mila. He'd never looked into someone's eyes and seen them staring back at him like he was the only thing that mattered. He'd never held a woman and had her hold him back just as tightly, he'd never kissed a woman or told a woman he loved her and had the feeling reciprocated ten fold.

It had taken Mila Campbell to make Tony realise it didn't matter how much money he had, how many houses or cars he owned or how many wars he helped win. What mattered was the feeling she gave him, and the urge he couldn't shake to give her that feeling in return.

Two weeks after walking away, Tony found himself walking back up the steps of Mila's front porch. He had nothing but the clothes on his back and a black eye, a couple of cuts a bruises that didn't hurt anymore, a heart full of love and a head full of regret.

He and The Avengers had gifted the world it's peace for the foreseeable future after their battle in Wakanda, and as Tony looked up at Mila's house, he finally felt ready to accept his own peace, too.

He held his breath after knocking on the front door, taking a step back as he waited. There were pumpkins on the porch left over from Halloween and a harvest wreath hanging over the spyglass on the door, silicone cartoon ghosts stuck to the insides of the windows.

The sun was setting and the sky was a dark orange that evening, a strong wind blowing the piles of leaves across the lawn up against the front of the garage that Tony felt like he was working on his suit inside just yesterday.

In fact, he felt like time had stood still since being apart from Mila. His world hadn't carried on turning, not really, and while work continued and jobs had to be done, Tony couldn't find a way to ever move on, feeling eternally stuck on the girl that had changed his life almost a year ago.

"Tony?"

Mila's eyes widened when she pulled open the front door that evening, almost choking on her own words when she saw Tony Stark stood on her doorstep again.

She was convinced she'd never lay eyes on him again after the way he walked away from her with her heart ripped out of her chest, beating in his own bloody hands. Quite frankly, she didn't want to see him.

Tony had hurt her. The way he'd acted and his insensitive words made Mila feel like she was no longer talking to the same Tony that had held her when she'd cried or tickled her back as she'd fallen asleep. She longed for that man back, but the lasting memory she'd been given was too painful for her to think about him for too long without wondering where it all went wrong.