Chapter Text
Blood...so much blood...so many deaths...all my fault...
My hands...drenched in layers and layers of hardening BLOOD.
My fault...all my fault...nothing I ever do will be enough...
I will never be enough.
Tony jolted upright in an empty bed, his brow drenched in sweat. But he didn’t scream. Or cry, or curl up in a ball. He just, sat there, feeling hollow. Who were all those people? Those people he killed? He braced for the wave of guilt that usually followed after these thoughts only for it to never come, leaving him feeling a numb, tingling sensation all over his body. His eyes started going dry, reminding him to blink.
Shivering despite the warmth of his room, he stood up to get ready. No use letting his emotions control his day, there were too many things to do. He took a scalding hot shower, the usual these days, brushed his teeth and stood in front of the mirror whilst thoughts of hoping to atone in one lifetime for all the people he killed circled around his brain.
After neatening his hair and beard, he put on a simple black blazer, and after much consideration, put a simple plain black shirt on underneath with matching simple black pants and simple black shoes, and for the finishing touch, slid some simple iron man themed sunglasses into his pocket. Today was just a simple day.
He was about to leave his room when he caught a glimpse of his dead eyes in the mirror through the open bathroom door, and was immediately crushed by the thought of what lay past the door in front of him. The past few months hadn’t been kind to him, and he had already considered the easy way out a few times, but he was determined to find the end of the tunnel that was whatever he was going through. Even if that end was nowhere in sight, he’d make it he hoped.
Tony sighed and slipped on the glasses that were previously in his pocket and opened the door. He was met with an empty, cold corridor, as it had been for so long now. At the end of the corridor he found his way to a small set of stairs that led to a small kitchen and a, now empty, bar (before they broke up, he promised Stephen he’d give up drinking, and he wasn’t one to break a promise).
They were flourishing as a couple, he doesn’t know where it went wrong. All he knew was that they came to a mutual decision to remain friends with benefits. Gods, why was he so Depressed™️ today?
Probably because of the intergalactic threat headed our way, out to destroy half of all life and court death, his inner voice spat.
Why so aggressive? Isn’t this what we’ve been preparing for for the last six years?
Making his way into the kitchen, he swiped his phone up from the countertop to check the time, only to choke. May 29th. His birthday. The weight he felt before he stepped out of his bedroom door was back again only ten times heavier, making him stumble backwards into a chair. Along with the date he also saw that it was 10:16am and he had no missed calls or new messages. That should not make him feel as depressed as he felt in that moment.
Oh shut up, the voice snarled. It’s just your birthday, why would anyone celebrate the day you, of all people, were brought into existence.
I could say the same for you, he internally scoffed, even though he knew it was pointless. That voice only existed to remind him of his place and most of the time he couldn’t even disagree with the points it made. Flashes of drying blood and faceless dead bodies appeared in front of his eyes, but he was nowhere near ready to deal with all that so he quickly shook his head and stood to grab himself an apple, nearly falling over in the process as his vision blurred.
Today was not going to be a good day, but he could say that for every day of his pitiful existence, couldn’t he?
-
There was someone talking, probably saying something important, but he couldn’t hear them over the whispers that took over his thoughts. They all blended together in his mind so that he couldn’t make out what they were saying, and they were just loud enough that he couldn’t focus on the meeting taking place in front of him.
He bit back a scoff. Attending an Accords council meeting on his birthday? He probably deserved it. He didn’t get to have a day off, even if it was his birthday. The whispering voices grew louder at that thought, to the point that he could feel the oncoming headache behind his eyes. He could almost convince himself that they were against his way of thinking. Almost.
He brought a hand up to his head, now completely distracted from the meeting. The voices weren’t like the other voice in his head that constantly belittled him, instead they whispered promises of comfort and peace, lulling him to a place that didn’t exist, slowly tugging him in a direction he couldn’t go.
Falling deeper into his mind the voices became clearer, slowly forming words that he could barely make out, his headache growing worse.
‘...You are ready...it is time...follow us...follow us...’
‘Who are you?’ he called back, the headache pulsing between his eyes as he let them fall shut.
‘...Tony...Tony...Tony...it is time...you are ready...you are needed...’
‘Who are you?!’ he repeated, growing frustrated. The fuck kind of vague bullshit...
‘...Tony...Tony...Stark...’
“Mr Stark!”
He snapped upright, not realising he had zoned so far out that he forgot why he was here. Right. Cosmic threat, end of the world, yada yada yada, all that fun stuff.
“Mhm?” He hummed back to whoever called him, frowning at the sudden lack of the voices. Not even good ol’ Self Hate Voice was attempting to disparage him for zoning out.
“Were you even paying attention to anything that was just discussed?” Oh, it was Ross. The old and angry one. Suddenly he didn’t feel so bad for getting lost in his thoughts.
“Depends on what you mean by paying attention, if you meant being an active participant in the conversation, no, but if you meant listening to what was being said, then yes, i was listening and i simply decided it was not worth paying attention to.” Thats right, use lots of words. Not even i know what i just said.
“Mr Stark,” Uh oh, that was one of the UN representatives, the one from Australia if he was to guess by the accent. The accords council was made up of one UN representative from every continent, except for Antarctica (don’t ask him why), Ross, and a representative for the avengers (which he was appointed as after many arguments, because he had more political prowess).
“You need to be more focused during these meetings, especially in a time like this, if you want to maintain your place on the accords council.” Well maybe i dont want to be on the council, is what he would have replied if he wasn’t a pussy. Too bad he was though as he ended up saying;
“Okay,”
‘Okay’? ‘Okay’!? What do you mean by ‘Okay’!? What kind of a response is that!?
“It won’t happen again.”
His heart beat heavily in his chest, something was wrong. He didn’t answer like that out of embarrassment, he answered like that because something was so. very. wrong. Sweat gathered on his forehead as his breathing picked up. The voices suddenly started again, louder than ever, and suddenly that was all he could hear. His eyes darted around the room, looking for whatever was causing this strange, nerve wracking sensation that flitted over his skin.
“If you would excuse me for a minute,” he rasped, cutting through the discussion that started up again. Even through the heavy static that lay over his ears, he knew he sounded out of breath.
While his brain sped up, trying to calculate what in the flying fuck was so so wrong that it shook him to his very core, he stood up and walked to the large door, legs going on autopilot, with little to no objection from the other council members. Even a blind person could tell that the meeting was going nowhere.
As he waded through the hall, the lights becoming blindingly bright in an instant, the voices started up again.
‘Tony...Stark...Tony Stark...follow...you are needed...’
Mr Self Hate voice would hastily disagree, but it seemed he didn’t have anything to say. All of his senses felt like they were on fire, like something was ripping them apart in every direction.
‘Who. Are. You.’ he internally ground out once he was seated on the floor in the corner of an empty meeting room, sick of whatever the fuck was happening. These voices (along with the nightmares of blood blood somuchbloodanddeathand-) had been bugging him for weeks now, never giving him an answer. Honestly, he didn’t know why he bothered demanding a name when, even after all this time, they hadn’t given him one.
But...he needed answers. Never had he felt such dread, let alone while sitting in one of the safest buildings on earth. He had to get to the bottom of this and he had a sneaking suspicion that these voices were the reason. Or maybe it could be the appearance of Thanos, he honestly did not even know anymore. Ah, anyway. The voices never replied to his question, but then again this was the most they’d ever spoken in a day. That’s why he almost jumped through the ceiling when they replied.
‘...Stones...infinity?...Infinity...stones...follow...you are ready...it is time...we are running out of time...’
And back to their bullshit. The voices went about their little spiel, but Tony was still left reeling from that revelation. If the ‘Infinity Stones’, like the ones Thor talked about, the one thing that Thanos was after, were really the things talking to him, then stuff just got a lot more complicated.
‘...Chosen...you are ready...he is almost here...’
Oh boy.