Rising From the Ashes • COMPLETED ✓

13.) I'm Here: Tony Stark

HEADS UP: This chapter has suicidal undertones in it. It talks about Tony and how he coped with his depression and PTSD, and there's a scene that involves self harm. If you are sensitive to this type of material, then scroll to the bottom to catch up on what happened.

TONY STARK - IRON MAN

July 11th, 2017, Stark Tow

I could be fighting crime right now. I should be fighting crime right now. But thanks to the dumb accords, I'm stuck at my office, with my own thoughts—something that shouldn't happen. Happy has been staying with me in Stark tower more ever since my last few panic attacks. Not even an arc reactor can help me with those.

Lately I've been swirling in a deep, dark hole. My mind has been swaying in dangerous places, and there's almost nobody to help me. Usually Sam and Natasha would be poking fun at me, Steve would be comforting me, Bruce and I would be talking about blueprints or inventing, Vision would be offering me advice while Wanda would probably be cooking something that reminded her of her childhood and tasted amazing. Last but not least—Pepper would be with me, comforting me, patting my back and soothing the wrinkles and creases on my forehead, dealing with my anxiety and my nightmares.

"I drive everyone away," My broken voice pings in the empty-yet-full workshop, cluttered with materials but void of people.

"What about Happy, boss?" Friday answers. Startled, I flinch at her voice once again. I keep forgetting that Friday is still here; but I'm glad to accept her company—even if she's not an actual person.

"I guess he stayed." A tiny grin manages to fights its way on my face, but it quickly gets squashed.

"He did." The Irish AI is defiant.

I shrug, "Okay. He did," And as I look around at my office, absorbing the state of it, I know how truly pleased I am that Happy Hogan stayed. When my eyes intensely rake over my glossy suits, the random pieces of machinery sprawled around, the multicolored papers made up of messy sketches and torn up envelopes, the heaps of workshop tools and erratic metal pieces strewn about—it dawns on me that the the absolute disarray the room is in sadly resembles my mind and life. What I see is the wake of a crazy old man: Me. Tony Stark. "Please turn off, Friday. You deserve a break."

"Of course, Mr. Stark." The musical chime of her shutting down calms me, but only of the slightest bit.

"I'm crazy indeed," I state, talking to myself again. The heavy storm of gloom that's on my shoulders and clouding my mind clears for the slightest bit—but as more memories of the Avengers in the good, old, golden days seep in, the gray fog grows even thicker. Suicide lingers around in my mind more nowadays. It sends me dark whispers. It gives me images and scenes.

When my state of mind was in such a deep hole, I made a makeshift ladder out of alcohol. Whiskey, wine, beer. You name it: I drank it all, hoping to reach the top. 

However, my friends and team forced me to realize that the ladder made of drinks only went so far. My office has been clear of any sorts of beverages for awhile now, and so I currently don't have any ladders at all.

I think about who I used to be. Iron Man. I think about my team and how we all cared and loved for each other, like brothers and sisters, or even lovers. I think about all the things we've done together, all the times we've saved Earth, all the times we've stopped crime. The amount of candles we put on birthday cakes for Steve. 

The day when we purchased an actual Black Widow and named the large spider 'Gnatasha Gnomanoff." The nights Bruce and I spent trying to figure out Thor's hammer. Peter Parker's thirst for adventure. Clint and Sam's unbearable banter. Wanda and Natasha teaming up against 'us boys'. God, I missed it all so much.

I went over to the middle of my office, where it was the messiest. Memories full of so much joy, rage, and despair played over and over in my head. 

Fat drops fall from the corners of my eyes and onto my lap. Wishing my team was still here, I let myself curl up into a ball like a roly-poly, getting the clutter of papers and other assorted junk damp with more tears.

After more wallowing, I decide to change my position and roll over. When I rest my leg against a spot on the floor, however, I yelp at sudden pain. I gently sit up and look down. There's a stinging cut on my leg. I scooch over and find that a letter opener was underneath my calf. 

Cautiously, I pick it up and hold it in my palm. The initials HS are carved on the metal in a swirling, graceful font. Howard Stark. It's a part of my dad's stationary. More teardrops wet my jeans at this revelation. What would Howard think of Anthony Stark now? 

Before I even know it, the tip of the letter opener is pointed at my torso, where the arc reactor once was and my heart now is. Do it, something urges in me. My hands are shaking so much, and I'm holding the thing so tightly my knuckles are turning white. 

I raise my wrists and point it at my chest once again. However, in the cold metal, I see my reflection. Heavy bags weigh my pink eyes and deep wrinkles age my face. Don't do it, something else whispers. It's so faint I barely hear it—but I hear it.

"Tony?"

I tug my actual gaze from the reflected one and glance up from the blade. In front of me is a woman. It takes a few seconds of blinking and squinting to realize who it is.

"Pepper?"

She runs towards me, honey-blonde hair streaming behind her. "Tony, what the hell are you doing!" Pepper yells, slapping the letter opener from my trembling grip.

"Pepper," I repeat, in disbelief. She cups my chin with her hands, and I can't even meet her stare. Now the tears rolling down my cheeks are for a whole different reason. She pulls me up into a standing position, and I'm expecting a slap. 

Instead, Pepper smothers me with a hug and rubs my back in circular motions, treating me like a temperamental toddler. She's running her fingers through my hair like the way she used to. I start to sob.

"Shh, it's okay, Tony. I'm here." I rest my head on the crook of her neck and breathe in her familiar scent.

"I'm sorry." I croak, my chin digging into her shoulder.

"Me too," She says, the vibration of her voice is so soothing. I can feel my heart getting fuller.

"I love you so, so, so much. I'm so stupid."

"You are stupid," Pepper agrees. We share a chuckle at that. She places her palms on my shoulders and gingerly pushes me away.

I sigh, "I know."

She gives me a smile, her lips beautifully curving upwards as she talks. "But I love you too." 

Tony's thoughts. His struggles. Iron Man is human too. 

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Sorry for the feels! Haha. 

IF YOU SCROLLED DOWN: 

Tony accidentally cut himself with a letter opener, and since he's not in a healthy place right now, he wants to use the piece of stationary to hurt himself. Right before he's about to commit to the act, he gets interrupted by none other than Pepper Potts! That's right, she's back and ready to put Anthony Stark on track. :)

Hope you enjoyed!