No bargain with death (MCU x reader)

2. persuasion game

You stared at the two men sitting at your table. Disbelieve was clouding your vision for a second. Having thought that no one could possibly be that desperate had been a mistake. This man was. He had to be suffering from pain that was nearly as excruciating as yours.

Damn. You couldn't do this. Of every case you had ever had this one was the worst. On an emotional level.

People normally came to you because they missed whoever they had lost. This man was different. He'd come here not only because of the pain of loss. There was more to this. He felt guilty. He blamed himself for the kid's death.

It was time to find out more. Knowledge would be your only weapon here. It would get dirty. But this man didn't care what he put you through so you wouldn't care what you'd put him through.

Time to face them.

You sat down again behind your table, your hands shaking. In a never ending mantra you tried to persuade yourself that this was just regular business. Just what had happened over and over again. You failed. This was so far away from everything you had ever experienced and you really didn't like that.

"You made me throw up" , you told Tony. It wasn't worth keeping up the thin facade of business. It was your turn to shoot.

Stark looked at you, his pained expression not moving. He didn't talk. He didn't respond. That was unusual for him. He was a big talker.

"A 'I'm sorry, I'll just leave you alone then' would have done it" , you said. Stark twitched the tiniest bit. The bullet had hit it's aim. Reload the damn gun, shoot again.

"Let's get to the point" , you started and your heart was already contracting. You didn't want to do this. At the same time you didn't have a choice. There was barely anything in life that actually gave you a choice.

"You don't want him back because you miss him."

Death shot. He would hate you for this but you didn't want him to ever come back to you. It was the best solution. The only one. Because, to your great dislike, he was damn good at bringing thoughts back you didn't want to have. You were trying to save yourself.

Maybe, just maybe this made you as selfish as you were about to make Stark feel. Maybe it didn't. It wasn't important anyway.

Dr. Strange's eyes were big with shock. He hadn't seen the attack coming and he didn't like it. The bullet aimed at Stark affected him too, hurt him too. That's the strange thing about love. It's sharing love but it's also sharing pain.

Collateral damage.

They both had to understand. Stephen knew that you weren't willing to help. He still thought your way of showing it to be wrong.

"What are you aiming at?" , asked Dr. Strange. His voice was like knives, sharp and cold.

Stark understood. You knew because he lifted a hand to signal his boyfriend to stay quiet. He knew what you were aiming at. And he knew that you were aware of your successful hit. His face was even paler than before. There was a pain, even deeper than the pain of loss.

Damn it, you pitied him. You were the one bringing this pain onto him. This felt so wrong. So unbearably wrong. Especially because, against your belief, Stark didn't hate you for being that cruel. He probably thought that he deserved it.

You knew he didn't.

But there was no way back now.

"You want him back because you blame yourself for his death. You want to silence the nagging pain of loss but you also want to silence the sharp, cold blades of guilt, slowly slicing you up inside" , a cold statement. Every single word hit it's aim. You could see it. Stark collapsed slowly but steadily, further with every word spoken. Strange didn't, he rose in anger.