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Okay, people need to chill the fuck down.
Seriously, it seems that every other day the team is getting a call to Assemble. They were all aware that the Chitauri incident would allow some minor villains to come out of the woodworks, but this was a bit ridiculous.
Tony and the rest of the newly formed team were currently fighting some alien-cow things. They weren’t even villains! They were just the result of some lonely scientist having way too much time on his hands.
Tony would definitely be paying said dude a goddamn visit with the suit because goddamnit he was in the middle of something before this! The fact that the something happened to be him attempting to make a lightsaber for the suit is, unimportant. The fact still holds true that he, nor anyone else on the team, wanted to be there.
The cow-things, however primitive, were putting up a good fight. They were scared and acting more out of self defense than anything else, but they were still dangerous. They had an odd yet annoying ability to be able to spit acid. It was something straight out of a low-budget, straight to DVD sci-fi movie. From the 80’s. That absolutely nobody remembered.
Thankfully, the treat was well contained to about a block, and the things were quite easy to kill. Tony almost felt bad for them when he killed about ten in half a minute, for as they died they made quite the pitiful mooing sound.
Tony looked around as he killed another batch and sighed as he realized how much damage there was. Many walls and even the street had holes littered through them, making the surrounding area loon something akin to Swiss cheese. Trash cans and cars melted into the ground, and Tony off-topically wondered if Insurance would pay for mutant cow attacks. Tony was tired, and that was his only excuse for laughing at the fact that a stop sign seemed to protest its own inevitable demise as it too melted into the ground.
He was glad the cows had terrible aim though, because his teammates were currently fighting them with no protection to this mystery acid whatsoever. It just wouldn’t do if one of the-
Tony swore loudly as he dropped to the ground, hard. It took him a moment, a moment he didn’t have, to realize that one of the stupid cows had taken Tony’s pause as an opportunity to send acid straight at him. It must have been multiple cows or just one with a lucky shot because his entire armor, that was supposed to be acid resistant may he add, had dissolved, leaving Tony to fall an approximate 15 feet to the street, the rubble cutting into his skin has he sprawled painfully.
Where the stupid acid shooting alien-cows were.
Tony scrambled back to an emptier part of the street as his mind went blank. He felt terribly vulnerable, and though it would do him no good, his hand immediately flew to clutch his arc reactor. He had trained for situations like this, but no amount of boxing could defend himself against acid, even if the cows had terrible aim.
The cows that had shot him down (new weird sentence of the week) started to herd towards him as they had done with the other civilians before the area was cleared. Because that’s all Tony was at the moment, a civilian.
He seemed to forget how to move, his limbs unresponsive. Suddenly, he heard Steve’s voice yell over the scared moos, and Tony was momentarily confused as to why the sound wasn’t coming from his ear, before he remembered that the comm. was linked to the suit, and the suit was currently a puddle.
“Tony! Get out of here!” Steve yelled, concern evident in his voice, “Run!”
And Tony did. Shame burnt his cheeks as he ran from the fight. He ran and ran until he found a nice spot behind a building to wait for his new suit to arrive.
He sat there in silence as he waited, the shame that flowed through him turned his breathing erratic, and he had to actively fight off a panic attack.
He felt pathetic just sitting there, shivering, not from the panic (god no, he hoped he wasn’t that pathetic) but from the cold, because he only wore sweatpants and a tank top as protection from the December air.
—-
The post-battle debriefing was, painful.
Starting out, the team had meetings after every battle. This quickly became old and redundant, since they were not only having many more battles, but most of them were a lot easier. So, the fact that they were currently having a meeting at a round table with Fury at the head gave a big hint that something went wrong.
And Tony had a very strong feeling that the something was him.
It did not help Tony’s mistake caused everyone to have to sit there, still not showered and in full battle gear, everyone except for Tony, that is.
Everyone seemed quite pissed to be there, all of them tired, and they kept sending flares at Tony while Steve broke down the battle to Fury.
Tony was cold, once again, for he just sat there in his chair pathetically, still in his tank top and sweatpants, enduring his teammates glares.
He failed to contain his flinch as Steve got to the reason why all of them were there.
“And then the suit was disintegrated with acid,” Steve started, shooting an unreadable glance at Tony, “and Tony fell to the ground.” It sounded really lame when he put it like that.
Steve paused for the first time since he started recounting as he looked at Fury. Tony shot a quick glance at the man, his one eye unreadable. Tony hated not knowing what people were thinking, it put him on edge.
Fury sighed before interlocking his hands on the table, “And then?”
“I told him to get out of danger, and he did.” Tony was glad Steve didn’t just flat out say he ran.
Fur snorted before leaning back in his seat. Leaning his head forward slightly, he put it bluntly, “So he ran.” It was no question.
Steve became quite stiff and avoided Tony’s eyes as he nodded. Tony hoped to whatever god there was that he wasn’t blushing.
Fury looked like he wanted to laugh, which made Tony want to sink into his chair, but he straightened when the older man turned to look at him.
“And after that, after you ran, you did what?”
Tony felt small under the stares of his teammates but cleared his throat and spoke all the same, “I found a safe area and called another suit.”
Fury just nodded, and Tony could almost feel the suppressed laughter.
“Isn’t your suit supposed to protect you from these kinds of these things?” Fury challenged.
Tony felt a surge of indigent anger rise within him, “The suit is resistant to all known acids. It’s kind of hard to prepare for the unknown.”
Fury finally let out the laugh he had been holding back, the sound harsh and biting, “That’s kind of what he try to do here.”
Tony stood abruptly, bristling with anger. He pushed his chair back to the table, relishing in the slam, “Well good for fucking you.” He turned and pulled the door to the room open, not reaching back to close it as it banged against the wall.
He was done.
—-
Tony sat in his workshop, tired beyond belief. He drained another cup of coffee as he ran more calculations and simulations for the new armor. This one would be resistant to the new acid, including any other’s he had concocted in a frenzy.
He didn’t dare sleep, he knew it would riddled with nightmares. He also had to get this armor done. And the five other projects he had planned.
The battle from earlier still sat heavily in his mind, and he couldn’t help but cringe at the memory.
SHIELD did this thing where they sent the team members any footage available of the battle so they could find their weaknesses and build on them.
Tony felt like throwing up when he saw himself run from the battle, panic evident on his face.
That was his weakness. He was nothing without the suit.
‘Take that off, and what are you?’
He was weak. He was nothing.
And he ran.
Steve got his answer that day, the entire world did.
Anyone who watched the news would see it, nice and plain.
Tony Stark was nothing, and he ran.