p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e

Yellowpetal

The elevator dings and Tony's palms are sweaty.

(A/N knees weak arms are heavy, there's v-ok I'll stop)

"Heyyyyy!"

Bucky and Natasha are sprawled across the couch recounting old war stories. Tony is suddenly aware of the fact that he looks like absolute shit.

The soldier takes a swig of beer.

"What, did you get hit by a train or something?"

That'd be nice.

" Thanks, Barnes."

He stalks upstairs, far from Natasha's rolling eyes.

The engineer shuts his door and slides down the wood to the floor, staring at the tall mirror in front of him.

So, incredibly narcissistic

I trusted him. I trusted him.

"Trusted him..." he mutters.

His body moves without his permission, and he finds himself breaking a glass bottle against the sink, tying it to a piece of leather cord. He locks the door and takes his shirt off, tossing it aside.

Wallow in self pity

Testing the waters, he drags the bottle against his back. The jagged edges scrape at his flesh. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brings the whip down hard on his back, making him grimace.

Lash

after lash

after lash, until his skin is a mess. Blood is everywhere and the bottle is now actually sticking out of his flesh. He yanks it out and smiles, replaying everything in his head. Exhausted, Tony collapses onto his stomach and stares at the stained bottle, letting the warm, syrupy liquid pool in the small of his back. His casted arm aches under his weight.

Disgusting.

He wakes up without having slept, the blood now crusted over on his back. He knows it'll crack and the rivers will flow once he gets up, like subterranean magma seams. The engineer sighs and wraps the stained towel around his waist and kicks his new tool under the bed, too tired to dispose of it properly and afraid of what'll happen to the taut skin on his back if he bends down.

Tony stumbles to his bathroom with blood running down his leg and on his hand like the red gauntlets of his suit.

So much blood on my hands...

maybe my own will wash it off

A matching red watch extends a shield around his plaster cast.

When can I get rid of this damn thing...

The marble floor is cold under his feet and the water shoots out with a hiss, hitting him square in the face.

Great.

The billionaire wipes the water from his eyelashes with the corner of the towel so he can see, and steps a single foot out the door to throw it in the trash can.

Tony finds a new meaning of pain when the warm water jet hits his back full-force.

Swearing, he turns around and quickly rotates the shower head to a lighter setting, instead of "massage".

After a while, his back goes numb, just raw flesh and torn skin.

What did I just do?

Bruce is gonna be so disappointed.