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Tony was still awake, down in the lab, pouring over some new schematics for his suit when it happened. The phone vibrated against the table, making him reach for it distractedly before the sound started playing. His hand froze in the air, hovering over it as the implications of the tone hit him.
Death-Cast.
His ever-churning mind went suddenly, utterly blank. It was as if every thought he’d ever had tumbled out, leaving just a vast echoing nothing where his brain used to be. What was he supposed to do? He knew he had to answer it. Everyone did. But then again, what if he didn’t?
He knew the answer; they would just keep calling. They had to, just like he had to answer their call. But every fiber of his being was screaming at him to smash the phone into pieces and pretend like it never happened. Which would only work for the next, he glanced down at his watch, twenty-two and half hours at most.
Feeling numb, his hand managed to tighten around the phone and lift it to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is Valerie calling from Death-Cast” a voice chirped into his ear. Not cheery, but pleasant. She sounded upbeat enough that she could have been any telemarketer calling to hawk their wares, but not happy enough to not respect the nature of the call. He was curious what she looked like. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture her, just based on the voice. Short, on the petite side, definitely a brunette. “Am I speaking with Anthony S-Stark?”
He heard the stutter as she got to his last name and couldn’t help but wonder how she felt about her part in this. There had to be hundreds of celebrities and household names in the country, but how many workers at Death-Cast got to call one and tell them they’d be dead in the next twenty-four hours. Make that twenty-two and half hours, he reminded himself.
“Yes, this is Tony Stark” he managed to get out, secretly proud of himself for sounding normal. Not like he was getting news that rocked the foundation of his existence. He wasn’t crying, or yelling, or however people generally handled this situation. Or maybe stunned silence was the usual reaction. He was tempted to ask, but didn’t want to interrupt Valerie’s well-practiced speech that she was currently running through.
He supposed he should be listening, and she was getting half of his attention, but once you knew the call was for you, you knew pretty much what there was to know. He didn’t care about the discounts, activities, or whatever that were offered to ‘deckers’ though he appreciated that they were there for people who wanted them. His life, however, certainly wasn’t lacking unique experiences that needed to be crammed in at the last minute.
Suddenly there was silence on the other end of the call and Tony realized that the spiel had ended.
“Tony?”
“Yeah, still here, sorry.” He wondered if the first-name basis thing was something they all did, to try and keep you calm and focused, feel like you were talking to a friend.
“Ok, well are there any questions I can answer for you?” she asked kindly. The wary side of him wondered if after she hung up, the New York Times or Daily Bugle would be the next call. He hoped not; the last thing he needed was to be hounded by the press right into the afterlife.
“No, no, I think I’m alright. I mean, I… don’t have any questions.” He was definitely not alright, he thought ruefully, shaking his head.
“Ok, well then Tony, I say this to everyone and I mean it, but for you –” He could swear he could hear her getting a little choked up. Oddly enough, it made him feel a little better, even if out of the two of them, he should be the one crying. “We’re sorry to lose you. You will be missed.”
“Thank you” he said, realizing how ludicrous it was to thank someone for giving you the worst possible news, but he couldn’t help it.
“No, thank you” Valerie said solemnly. “For everything.” There was a pause for a moment before the call ended, leaving Tony with nothing but his thoughts.
He put the phone down, holding his head in his hands, staring down at the schematics that only five minutes earlier had been the biggest problem he had. He marveled at how quickly things could change. It was just after 1:30 in the morning and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It’s not like he could just go to sleep. Should he tell someone?
No. He shook his head silently at the thought. Everyone would try and fix it, avoid the inevitable. What was the point? He wondered how it would happen… an accident in the lab? Some faulty mechanics blowing up in his face? Maybe a heart attack or aneurysm…something natural. The possibilities were endless and made his head swim.
The room suddenly felt like it was closing in and it was getting hard to breathe. This is no time for a panic attack, he thought to himself, trying to suck in deep, calming breaths. He rolled his eyes at himself, realizing that this was actually the perfect time for a panic attack, but there wasn’t time to waste. Breaking out into a sweat, he felt paralyzed by indecision. What to do?
Deciding that maybe some fresh air would help, Tony headed for the elevator, all the while realizing how every single step he took could kill him in a different way. The elevator cable could snap, plummeting him down to his death. Or he could get up to the roof, trip, and plummet down the outside of the building instead. Maybe he’d just trip over his own feet and fall wrong, smashing his head against the floor.
None of this was helpful, he tried to tell himself. No one really understood how the Death-Cast worked, other than that they would die in the next 24 hours. No how, why, or when exactly. No one had avoided it or changed the course of things. So, Tony supposed, he was going to go one way or another. He’d just avoid doing anything particularly stupid, not exactly his strong suit, and hope for the best.
As the elevator doors closed silently, Tony realized he was holding his breath. He let it out slowly as it started ascending, floor after floor of Stark Tower gliding past. He thought about what each of those floors held – all his work, his power, his money. Not to mention, as the numbers got higher, his friends, his teammates, his family. All probably asleep, none the wiser to his inner turmoil.
The elevator finally reached the top, depositing him in his penthouse. He stepped out, looking around, seeing it all like it was for the first time. There weren’t a lot of personal effects, no photos on the wall, but there were plenty of memories that filled every corner. The parties, the strategy meetings, the arguments… Walking slowly through the room, Tony tried to commit everything to memory. Not that would matter by the end of the day, but he wanted to really see it all. This place carried his name and was him, in a way. And would be part of his legacy after he was gone, he hoped.
He made his way over to the door that led to rooftop. Only his and the floor below, where most of the other team lived or had rooms to stay in, had access to the roof, so it was one of the places Tony retreated to when he needed to think.
Stepping out onto the roof, he felt the cold wind whipping at his face. Fall had definitely come to stay, the temperature steadily dropping each day and the biting chill that came on windy nights. He made it to the edge, after briefly considering whether standing so close was a good idea.
Peering carefully over the waist-high wall, he watched the lights of the cars down below. Even at this hour, there were still all kinds of people out and about. He couldn’t help but wonder how many of them had also gotten the call and had decided to start their last days now. His mind wandered as he let his eyes unfocus until it all blurred together and became one mass of glittering light.
Suddenly he sensed movement to his left, someone shifting in the shadows. Tony spun around, breath catching in his throat. Throwing his hands up, he fell into a defensive stance, all the while thinking that here it was, the end. And so soon after getting the call. What a rip-off his last day had turned out to be.
“Calm down, Stark.”
“Barton? Jesus…” Tony dropped his hands, taking a deep breath and trying to shake off some of the adrenaline rush that was coursing through him. “What are you doing up here?”
“Just needed some time to think.” He was perched on the ledge, feet dangling over the side, face still obscured by the shadows. “You?”
“Same.” They fell into a somewhat comfortable silence. Tony wondered if he should ask what Clint was thinking about, but didn’t want to intrude. They all had complicated lives; sometimes you wanted to share, sometimes you didn’t.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it” Tony offered, figuring if Clint wanted to talk, he’s say something. “You were here first, anyway.”
Clint just nodded, watching Tony turn away. He’d almost made it back to the door when Clint stopped him.
“Hey, you didn’t –”
“Didn’t what?” Tony turned back, trying to get a good look at Clint.
“Nevermind.” His voice sounded tight, hesitant. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Clint.” Tony took a few steps back towards him, but stopped a couple feet shy of where he was sitting. “Did you get…the call?”
There was a long pause before Clint cleared his throat. “Yeah” he said thickly.
“Shit.”
“You said it.”
“Well, you’re not alone.” Tony closed the last bit of space between them, leaning against the ledge next to Clint with a sigh.
Clint looked over at him, but said nothing. They watched out over the city together, lost in thought.
“Are you going to tell anyone?” Tony asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Nah. It’s not like I have a lot of people to say goodbye to. Maybe I’ll leave a couple letters or something.”
“Yeah.” Tony nodded. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“What about you?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Any big plans, unfinished business?”
“Actually” Tony paused, considering, “I think I might go to bed.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean, I might die in my sleep, sure. But that’s not a bad way to go, right? And if not, then at least I won’t be exhausted the rest of the day.”
“Makes sense. Good luck falling asleep, I don’t think I could right now. Maybe I should finish that stack of paperwork that Coulson has been hounding me about. That could be my farewell gift to him.”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate that” Tony chuckled. “We could go out or something if you wanted to.”
“No, you go catch some sleep. I’m just going to stay up here for a little while and figure out what I want to do.”
“You’re not gonna jump or anything, are you?” Tony asked, mostly joking. He didn’t like the brief pause before Clint answered, like he was actually considering it.
“I’m not going to jump. Wouldn’t want to bring you any bad publicity on your last day.”
“That’s you Barton, considerate to a fault.” Tony patted his leg.
“I know. Maybe that’s what I should put on my tombstone.”
“Too soon man, too soon.”
Clint barked out a laugh. “We don’t have time for too soon.”
Tony just nodded. “Alright, well, I guess I’ll see you later” he said, turning to leave. As he grabbed the handle to open the door, Clint called out, stopping him.
“Oh, and Tony?”
“Yeah?”
“Just in case... it’s been nice knowing you. Really. I’m glad we’re friends.”
Tony felt the pricking of tears, suddenly finding it hard to speak. “You too, Clint.”
---
The sky was tinged with pink, quickly turning to blue as Tony woke up, the alarm blaring from the nightstand. He had thought that it would be impossible to fall asleep, but that hadn’t been the case at all. Whether it was just because he’d been so tired, or if his brain had just been so overwhelmed that it had been easier to just shut down, he’d passed out practically as soon as his head hit the pillow. But now he was awake and for the briefest moment, his mind was blank, caught in that peaceful place between dreaming and waking.
But too soon it faded and the memory of it came back. Today was the day. He’d made it through the ‘night’ – the three hours of sleep he’d gotten – and now had to face the day. His thoughts quickly turned to Clint and he grabbed his phone, tapping out a text.
- Still with us?
He stared down at the screen, barely breathing as he waiting. Blessedly, he didn’t have to wait long, the dots appearing, letting him know that a response was on the way.
- I am. Nice to see you are too. I was just about to grab some breakfast, interested?
Tony was tempted to say no. He wasn’t really a breakfast guy, subsisting mostly on black coffee and sugar, to the horror of his doctors. But then again, what else was he going to do. No reason to continue working on any plans for the next suit he’d been building. And he’d rather die – ha – then spend a few of his last hours in a board meeting or going over numbers and plans.
He supposed he should be more concerned with the future of his company, making sure every detail was planned out and secured, ensuring that his legacy would continue, but he was finding it hard to care. Funny. If you’d asked him yesterday, Tony would have sworn that having his name carry on as symbol of innovation was a top priority. Turns out, not so much.
- Just need to get dressed. Lobby in 15?
Getting up out of bed, Tony was struck by the odd realization that almost everything he was doing was probably for the last time. He’d never drag himself out from under the warm covers into the cool morning air. He’d likely never get dressed again, or brush his teeth. Never flip on the tv to check the morning news. Every little thing that he’d done hundreds, or thousands, of times in his life all came down to this.
He was tempted to skip a few steps, after all, who wants to bother with brushing their teeth when they could drop dead the next minute, but he figured he should probably keep up at least the minimum of person hygiene standards. Taking an extra moment, Tony dug through his closet for his favorite pair of jeans and shirt. They were both so worn that he usually kept them for just at home, but he was determined to go out in comfort, if at all possible.
Taking one last slow walk through the penthouse, he mentally said goodbye to it all.
---
They pushed open the door to the diner, the bell above it heralding their arrival. It was still early enough that the place was mostly empty, just a few scattered tables of early-risers or overnight shift workers on their way home. Grabbing a booth, they slid in while their waitress ambled over, dropping menus on the table.
Tony leaned back, letting his gaze wander over the people gathered there, living their lives, going about their day. None the wiser that among them were two of the walking dead. Or maybe some of them were too. Hell, they all could be for all he knew.
He was still lost in his thoughts when the waitress returned, waiting with her pad of paper and pen.
“Uh, yeah. Gimme the pancakes, with chocolate chips, and the #2 breakfast combo. Eggs over easy, rye toast if you have it. Extra crispy bacon. And a hot chocolate, please.”
Tony raised an eyebrow at Clint, shaking his head. He scanned the menu quickly. “Just a black coffee and the biscuits and gravy. Thanks” he said, handing the waitress his menu. “There’s no way you’re going to eat all that.”
“Probably not” Clint shrugged, “but what does it matter? I want a bite of everything.”
“Yeah, until you choke on a piece of that bacon.”
“Funny” Clint said, rolling his eyes. But he smiled. “You sure that’s all you want to get. Seems like a waste. We could have gone somewhere else if this isn’t what you wanted.”
“No, that’s ok. This is good.”
Their food came quickly and the pair dug in, Clint closing his eyes and savoring the first bite of everything. Tony ate mechanically, barely tasting his food, though he did try to enjoy the last cup of coffee he’d probably ever have. Coffee had been the thing that had kept him going for so many years, he sometimes thought that if he cut himself, straight coffee would pour from his veins.
They ate mostly in silence, occasionally filling the quiet with small talk until Tony’s food was gone and Clint’s plates held only remnants of everything he’d ordered. He sat back with a sigh, rubbing his stomach with his hand.
Tony couldn’t help but laugh. “Everything you hoped it would be?”
“And more” Clint smiled.
They had just paid their bill, leaving an even more generous tip than Tony was known for, when both of their phones beeped. Checking them simultaneously, they saw it was from Steve. They were needed back at the Tower. Now.
They looked at each other wordlessly. Not good.
---
Making it back in a few minutes, they met everyone in a conference room on one of the floors reserved for SHIELD and Avengers business. They were the last to arrive, faces turning to greet them as they closed the door.
Steve stood at the head of the table, not yet suited up, but looking serious. Natasha and Bruce sat across from each other, Coulson next to Nat, flipping through a stack of files. Sam sat at the other end of the table, scrolling through something on his phone while he waited for the meeting to officially begin.
As they sat down, Tony couldn’t help but look around, stopping for a moment on each person’s face, feeling a tug inside his chest. He wanted to blurt out his goodbyes to everyone, tell them, in a very un-Stark like way, how much they all meant to him and how they’d changed his life for the better. Instead, he forced the words back down and cleared his throat, turning to look up at Steve.
“So what’s going on?”
“There’s been some reports of disturbances uptown, a couple different areas but they seem to be connected. Coordinated attacks of some kind, the details are still coming in, but the police are afraid that it’s just the start of something larger. It started a couple hours ago and has been growing. There’s been chatter that it could be related to the threats that have been coming in for the last month, the ones warning us that ‘the end is nigh’ and we’ll all ‘see what evil we’ve brought down upon ourselves’.”
“I thought those were all attributed to some crackpots. Bunch of wackos causing trouble from their mom’s basements?” Tony asked, hearing Clint snort of laughter.
“They were, but apparently there’s been some new intel that says differently. So anyway, we’ve been asked to go handle it.”
Heads nodded around the table.
“I’ve got files with what information we have, though it isn’t much” Coulson said, distributing the folders. “Go suit up, get what you need, you leave in 30.”
As everyone stood up, heading for the door, Tony shot another look at Clint who caught his eye with a sad shrug.
---
He flew through the sky, watching the city pass him down below, reflecting that this was yet another thing that he was really going to miss. If you could miss things once you were dead, Tony thought. He supposed it depended on the whole afterlife situation, but he didn’t want to start thinking about that. It was pretty much too late to change anything on that front, and he didn’t want to anyway. He just also didn’t want it to turn out he’d been wrong.
Hearing the air whoosh over him as he soared towards the newest bad guys they’d been tasked with stopping, he realized he hadn’t appreciated a lot of thing awesome things in his life. He was freaking flying, after all. Not many people got to do that, outside of a plane…and the occasional superhero or villain. Not to mention the rest of his life. The money, the technology, the fame… Sure, there’d be some spectacularly shitty stuff too, but he’d always been focused more on the future, the next big thing, than he’d been on what he had.
Not wanting to spend the his last day focusing on regrets, Tony silently vowed that from now on, whether that be hours or seconds, he’d at least try to value what he had, what he could do, and who he was doing it with. It wouldn’t change anything this late in the game, but maybe it would help him find some sense of peace and of not wasting the little time he had left.
Arriving on the outskirts of the roughly one-square mile area that was the target of the mystery group, Tony set down on the roof of an apartment building, waiting to hear from the rest of the team. He scanned the nearby buildings, a few other apartments, but the rest were offices. Nothing out of the ordinary that he could see.
Before he could report in, he heard a couple of explosions go off somewhere in front of him. Plumes of smoke billowed up from three different points, each blocks away from each other. Whatever was going on was definitely a coordinated effort and it seemed like things were ramping up.
“You guys seeing this?” he said over the comms.
“Yeah, we see it. We’re right by the one next to the Brill Building. Nat and Clint will stay here, I’m going to head over towards the Westin. Can you get to the last one? Looks like 55th and 7th?”
“You got it, on my way now.”
Tony took off, continuing to scan down below for any other incidences, but everything was quiet. Until he landed, then it was anything but. Both the Park Central Hotel and the Wellington had been hit, guests spilling out into the streets, arms filled with what belongings they’d managed to grab, while tourists ran or stood and gawked. The smoke filled the street, making everything hazy.
Police were already on the scene, thankfully, since Tony knew there was no way he’d be able to direct everyone himself. Leaving it up to them, Tony focused on sussing out if any of the perpetrators were onsite or if the explosives had been detonated remotely. Despite all the smoke, there was very little debris and damage seemed to be minimal. If he had to guess, he’d say these were just distractions, meant to either keep them busy or lead them away from the real target.
“Hey Cap?”
“Yeah Tony?” He heard the chaos behind Steve while he spoke, imagining the same scene as he was currently seeing.
“I’m not seeing much damage here, seems like more of a diversion. How’s it look by you?”
“I’m inclined to agree with you. Lots of smoke and panic, but aside from some minor injuries, seems like everything is ok. What do you think the real target is then?”
“Same over here, guys” Nat said, jumping in.
“Times Square? If they wanted to make a statement. Otherwise, it could be anything here, really. Hard to know without a clue about what they’re really after.”
Before any of them could say more, there was another explosion, somewhere south of Tony.
“Anyone see where that was?” Steve yelled over the panicked screams around him.
“Looks like maybe The Manhattan?” Tony guessed, taking off into the sky. “I’m on my way.”
“Me too” Clint said, taking off down the street. “Nat is gonna stay here for now. I’ll let you know if we need you up there.”
---
“Shit.”
“That doesn’t sound good. What’s the scene?” Steve asked.
Tony looked up, watching flames pouring from the upper windows of The Manhattan.
“It was The Manhattan. I doubt this is the big one, but we do have a fire, looks like it’s spreading quickly.” As he spoke, the windows on the top floors blew out as an explosion was heard from inside. “I think it’s reached some gas lines.”
Clint arrived, running up to stand next to Tony, staring up at the rapidly growing inferno.
“Fire department is on their way” Steve said, “just hang on.”
Floors above them, a family appeared at the window, banging frantically on the glass. They were soon joined by more guests, running to the windows in a panic as the fire had somehow spread to a lower floor, trapping them where they were.
“Easier said than done” Tony muttered, knowing they couldn’t wait for the fire department now.
Clint slowly turned from the windows to Tony, an unreadable look on his face. He knew. And in that moment, Tony realized that he had forgotten. For the last hour, he had somehow managed to forget that he was dying. And if he had to guess, like Clint just had, this was probably it.
“Guess we have to go in, huh?” Clint asked softly.
“Looks like it” Tony said, already preparing to take off.
Clint just nodded. Reaching up to his ear, he turned off the comms. “I don’t want Nat to hear” he explained, looking back up at the people. He took a deep breath, patted Tony on the shoulder and took off into the building before Tony could say anything.
Tony flew up the outside, motioning for everyone to back away from the windows. Breaking the glass, he grabbed a couple of kids, flying them back down and returning for more. He was getting them out, but it was taking forever.
He was relieved to see Clint leading a group out of the hotel and onto the street, but he went right back in. The upper floors seemed to be empty now, so he followed Clint in the front door, where he was running up the stairs to the lower floors. Some of the stairwells were blocked by flames or filled with smoke, and people were confused and couldn’t find the exits.
The temperature had risen and Tony was sweating inside his suit. It was filtering the air for him, but he could tell by the haze that the smoke had to be bad. They needed to finish getting everyone and get the hell out of there.
Clint opened the door to the third floor, running down the hallway, looking and listening for any signs of life as Tony followed behind, his tech scanning for people behind the closed doors. Most of the floor was clear, but there looked to be some at the very end. The stairwell by the room was inaccessible and they were too afraid of getting turned around in the smoke to look for another.
Knocking down the door, Tony found another family. Mom, Dad, and two little girls, huddled against the window across the room. They watched with wide eyes as the pair entered. The youngest, maybe four years old with blonde pigtails, saw Tony and immediately burst into tears, sobbing against her mother’s leg.
Clint hurried over, kneeling down beside her, holding her hands and speaking calmly. Tony couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it was working as the girl stopped, listening intently and nodding, though tears still streamed down her face. He scooped her up, motioning for the rest of them to follow them while he led the way back out.
They made it to the stairs they’d used to reach the floor, but as Clint grabbed the handle, he yanked his hand back with a hiss. Looking down at it, he saw the burn across his palm. The fire had cut off their route out.
“Go back to the room” Clint ordered, pushing the parents back down the hallway. They ran, not knowing how much time they had before their floor went up in flames.
“You’ve gotta take them out the window” Clint said, handing the girl to Tony. He nodded, aiming a blast at the window, watching it shatter into glittering shards. He grabbed the other girl, holding them tight as they flew through the window. He deposited them safely on the ground, returning for their parents.
“I’ll be right back” he promised Clint, looking back to see him standing in the room alone.
“Take your time, I’ve got all day” he said with a small smile. He face was covered with sweaty streaks of soot and he was wrapping a strip of bedsheet around his burned hand.
Tony hurried, reuniting the parents with their girls and immediately heading back up to get Clint. He was within yards of the window when he heard a bang, followed by a ball of fire that took out the corner of the building. The bricks crumbled, building tilting as it lost support.
“Clint!” Tony shouted, remembering that he’d turned off the comms. He flew around to where the window had been, but there was no opening, the floor above having crashing down on top of it.
Frantic, Tony flew around to the other side, looking for a way in. Picking a window at random, he busted in, flying right through the door and into the hall, trying to orient himself. He could see where the floors had given way, pipes and wires hanging down from the ceiling, cracks running along the length.
He opened a few doors, unable to tell which Clint had been behind. The heat and electricity running through the air was messing with his scans and it all looked different now.
Finally finding the right one, he stared up at where the ceiling used to be. Now it was just a hole, furniture and building materials falling in, tumbling down from the rooms above. Looking around, he saw an arm sticking out from behind the bed, stretched out on the floor.
“Clint, hey, you with me?”
Stepping over debris, feeling it crunch under his feet, Tony rounded the bed and saw Clint lying underneath pile of rubble. He wasn’t moving and Tony felt the sudden urge to throw up. Kneeling down, he shoved off brick and plaster, rolling Clint over gently.
“Hey, Clint” he said again, softer this time. He was breathing, Tony was relieved to see, but it was shallow.
“Get…out of here” Clint breathed, opening his eyes just a crack to look up at him.
“Sorry man, can’t do that without you.”
As Tony went to lift him up, Clint closed his eyes, letting out a long breath, and went still.
“Clint! C’mon, stay with me.” He shook Clint gently, scanning for vital signs, but it was too late. Tony’s chest felt tight, the panic rising in him as he tried to keep it at bay. The room was closing in on him, making his vision flicker at the edges. Feeling like he couldn’t breathe, he ripped his mask off, realizing his mistake as he immediately choked on the black smoke that filled the room.
He knew he should get out of there, but he couldn’t just leave Clint alone. Trying to make himself move, there seemed to be a disconnect between his brain and body. He told his legs to move, yet stayed frozen in place, staring down at the body of his friend.
From below, he heard a deep groan come from the building’s foundation, the sound of metal twisting and shifting, melting from heat and bending under pressure. He knew he should be concerned, but some switch in him seemed to have flipped and he felt strangely calm, like it was happening to someone else. Before he could examine that thought any further and wonder at the strangeness of it all, the floor gave way and he felt nothing but the emptiness of the air below him.
And everything went black.