Strife of Misfortune(Wattys2016)

Clay And Snow

Was it Monday? Or perhaps the hours had ascended to the middle of the week. Wednesday? Thursday? Tony couldn't tell. All time was lost behind these walls, he was lost behind these walls. He had become a prisoner to his own lab. For weeks he toiled, he worked and sweat. It was a small price to pay to distract oneself from their thoughts. His thoughts were like vultures picking at his mind. They showed no mercy. So, Tony worked to forget them. He worked to Forget Steve, the conflict they had. He ceased to resort to his self-destructive tendencies, drowning himself at the bottom of a glass. Instead he labored to Pepper's satisfaction. If it weren't for her he would've emptied his cabinets of all it's wine and checked into the hospital for alcohol poisoning. That didn't sound like a bad idea. Tony wanted to lose himself in the strong brew; let it extirpate the ghosts of his woes and sorrows. He wanted that. Needed it. But, Tony couldn't bring himself to do it. He had Pepper to think about. He refused to be the cause of her pain. Not again. Too many times she found him collapsed on the floor, intoxicated and ill. Too many times she cleaned the vomit from his hair. Too many times the scent of whiskey had slap her nose. Tony couldn't do it. He recalled the sorrowful spectacle in Pepper's eyes, the way in caved and narrowed itself into fear. Tony couldn't be the cause of it again. She had always tried to remain strong for him even as the inundation stormed within her. He had to remain strong for her.

So Tony worked. He worked till his body became fatigued, till his eyes burned from the chemicals, till the scent of oil dominated his own. Despite his endeavors, Tony couldn't forgot the scene. His brain rehearsed the lines, rewinded the moment where their two opinions collided for a final battle. He had lost a friend. Tony took a break from work to brood. His ambitions, they had cost him his friendship and his team. He wanted nothing more than to take back everything he has done, but he couldn't. His teammates would be the subject of the government's wrath if he were to quit now. They wanted the accords and he wanted his friends to be safe. That was their agreement. Once again, Tony bore the lashes for his friends, forced to suffer in secret. But if they were to find out, would they even care that he bled for them? He sullied his name if only to protect a future they've all envisioned. But of course it didn't matter that he bled. Never did.

It was half past noon when Pepper entered the laboratory. She told him that he had a guest. Tony requested for him to enter. Five minutes later a tall sinewy man entered the room. T'Challa. He had acquired an exquisite suit for this visit. It was tailored to withstand his muscular physique. "T'challa." Tony cocked his brow. "I didn't know you were coming. If I knew I would've gotten dressed." He wasn't expecting guests today. He was wearing an oil-stained t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

"I've informed Mr. Pym. He hadn't inform you of my decision?" The king asked. His voice was two octaves deeper than Tony's. His mannerism reflected his royal blood.

"No as usual." Tony sighed aggravatedly. Hank wasn't an easy man to work with. He always withheld information from Tony and treated him like an assistant and not as a partner. When was the last time Hank confided in him before making a decision?

"I see." T'challa nodded. He moved to stand at Tony's side and gazed at the project before him.

"Are the robots finished?" He asked.

"Not yet." Tony replied. "I'm still working out the kinks."

"It is missing something."

"I've noticed."

"I am confident that you and Pym will figure it out." He smiled, it evinced little of his thoughts. He was a private man. "You know what will happen if you don't."

"We're well aware it."

The king turned to meet Tony's eyes. "You know I am not a generous man. My country will always come first." He stated. "The fact that I am funding your research astonishes even myself."