And Then I Wrote Marvel

Prompts 2 and 7

2. "I was waiting for you. You never came."
7. "Please stop doing that to yourself."
Tony Stark x Reader

12:00

Midnight.

He had told you to wait for him until midnight, then leave if he didn't show. You couldn't leave him, though. Five more minutes.

12:05

Five past midnight.

"Come on, Tony," you whispered to yourself nervously. "It's been three hours. What are you still doing down there?" Just five more minutes, and then you would go.

12:10

Ten past midnight.

Loud footsteps alerted you to someone boarding the quinjet. You turned around, ready to scold Tony for taking so long, but, as you discovered, it's a difficult thing to force words out of your mouth when a Hydra agent hurls a knife into your stomach.

The black-clothed figure walked away as you fell to the ground. "Get...back...here..." you said, your voice growing raspy already. Your vision was growing blurry, and in a last-ditch attempt to score some revenge, you pulled the knife out and tried to throw it back at the silent assailant. It barely went three feet.

12:15

A quarter past midnight.

Too late, Tony came back. "(Y/N), I told you to leave--(Y/N)!" he exclaimed as he realized why you hadn't left. He dropped to your side and lifted you out of the pool of your own blood and tore your shirt open so that he could see the wound.

His face blanched almost as pale as yours. The most he could do now was to order FRIDAY to fly the jet home and bandage you up himself. The rest was up to fate.

12:20

20 minutes past midnight.

He needed more bandages and cloth to soak up the blood. His breaths shortened, and his hands began to tingle.

"Not the time," he scolded the oncoming anxiety attack. His knees joined in with the tingling, then specific parts of his face. He tried to slow his breathing, but that wasn't working for him. The more he tried to calm himself, the more worked up he became. "Stop, just stop!" he commanded the tears escaping from his eyes.

He brought himself to the ground and put his head between his knees. He gripped his head, hoping that the pressure would somehow change the chemical reactions in his brain. At this rate, it would be a miracle if both of you made it out alive.
--
He was still sore about it for months. He was so angry at himself that he would blow up at the slightest thing, including you. He wouldn't talk about it, he would deny still being worked up about it, but you knew otherwise.

You tried so many times to approach him about it, but he wouldn't hear anything. He was fixated on everything being his fault.

You snapped after you caught him looking at you from the other side of the lab with the face of a kicked puppy. You placed your pen by your clipboard, and told Bruce, "Give me a second."

"Finally," he muttered.

You walked briskly over to Tony's workspace, and tried not to roll your eyes at his bad attempt at pretending like he wasn't paying attention. You were sick of how he was acting, as was everyone else in the tower.

You placed your hands carefully on the desk, and said quietly, "I was waiting for you until midnight. You never came. I gave you five more minutes. Nothing. Five more. Surprise attack." Your voice grew steadily louder as your anger grew, and Tony's emotions rose to match yours. "I was too stubborn to leave like you told me to. It's all on me, okay?" you shouted.

"No, not okay!" he shot back, just as loud, if not louder than you were. "I took too long, then you waited. It's my fault; just let me deal with it."

"Tony, please stop doing that to yourself," you pleaded. "You're not dealing with it. You're just letting it burn holes in you. Why? Why can't you just let it go?"

"Because I love you, dang it!" he yelled.