p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e

"That's Awful"

You are a grown man, stop stuttering like you're twelve.

He smacks himself in the forehead.

Bad, bad, bad....

The elevator dings and the sounds ricochets around his skull.

Tony walks over to the farthest corner of his room and slides down the wall, wishing the thoughts away.

Acting like a twelve year-old, I'm acting like a twelve year-old

" Why. Did you. Hurt yourself?"

"Tony? We need to talk."

"Does it always hurt this bad?"

Thoughts and words swirl around in his minds periphery.

Broken glass, whiskey on the floor

"Tony...what did you do?"

"Tony...is it painfu?"

"No no no...Tony, what did you do?"

"Tony, Jesus, what happened?"

"Tony, don't ever do something like this, never, ever again."

"Tony, stop."

"Tony, die."

No, he didn't say that, he'd never....

"Tony, die."

"Tony please, you're killing me."

"Tony, I can't handle your bullshit."

"Tony, it's too much."

"Tony, you're too much."

"Tony please, please help me!"

"Tony!"

"Tony, die."

Tony, die

Tony die

Tonydie

Tonydiediediediedie diediediedie"die,die die..."

"Die, die, just die..."

"Tony, are you okay?"

Bruce approaches him cautiously, like he's a wild animal who could take off at any second.

The engineer looks around him.

I'm in my garage, Bruce is here, I'm alive, I'm here, I'm here...

"I'm here, it's okay, I'm here..."

Bruce murmurs in his ear, and Tony finds that he's sobbing...hysterically.

What?

When did that happen?

He sits up and aggressively wipes his eyes with his sleeves, and stands up.

"What the fuck is my problem?" He mutters.

"I don't know, but we're going to figure it out," Bruce tells him assuredly from the floor.

"I'm the problem..."

"No you're not, don't be ridiculous."

I'm the problem.