DROP SOME POWER STONE
"We've got you now," Tony announced preparing to send another blast through the sky, but it was only then that the man standing before him flickered and scattered before Tony's eyes revealing that the man been nothing more than a holographic image of the madman that Tony had been seeking out. Instead, the taunting image was replaced by the terrified group of hostages kneeling on the floor with explosive collars around their necks and guns aimed at their head awaiting the moment that their hero would save them from this madness. Instead, Tony's blast had rocked the foundation of the floor beneath them spilling civilians like wildfire around the room when it became clear what trap he'd fallen into.
"No!" Tony's horrified breath escaped his lungs feeling as if he'd been punched in the gut by the reality unfolding before him. Before his eyes he could see the enemy emerge from the other side of the clouds, closing in from behind revealing his true positioning and making his last stand, but Tony was faster. He was smarter and he knew how to end this once and for all. In the back of his brain, he could vaguely make out the sounds of screaming in the distance, but he couldn't stop now. He spun around in the air seeing the man who'd taken so much from him in a suit that rivaled his own ready to battle him to the end as the madman's murderous death machine set out to destroy the city.
"Welcome to your future," the voice once again invaded his suit as Tony felt the control JARVIS had upon him waning. He attempted to gain the upper hand, struggling to remember his plan. Everything he'd anticipated down to the last detail was crumbling apart at the seams until that fateful moment when JARVIS and his warning began to sputter out leaving Tony to discover that his game plan had been obliterated. With another hard blast from the enemy, he'd taken a hit, but it was the sounds from Clint and Natasha's communication devices that shattered him.
"What have you done? Tony, what have you done?" Steve's desperate voice questioned when another flit of laughter filled Tony's suit spilling into his safety net when the horrible truth surrounded Tony in his quest to end things.
"It would appear you are a hero no more," the voice taunted as a loud beeping sound filled Tony's suit indicating that it shut down completely leaving him plummeting to the earth below with no chance for reprieve.
"No," Tony gasped heaving for oxygen as his heart felt as if it was going to explode in his chest. His mind was racing, his body drenched in sweat as he sat upright in the darkness struggling to remember where he was. He could hear the screams, could feel the crushing pain upon him when his life crumbled in the blink of an eye leaving him alone in the tiny, dilapidated studio apartment struggling to regain his sense of control. His fingers balled into fists, digging into the soft flesh of his outer thigh when his lips parted. Struggling for air, his body shook, his breaths coming out in heaving gasps as he reached out across the bed to seek out the bottle of pills he'd kept on top of the table. They were something he'd known would be there, but with his trembling fingers the bottle spilled over, scattering the pills across the cracked wooden floor.
"Fuck," Tony cursed closing his eyes as he fought to quell his raging panic attack. His chest was tight, his mind racing with fear, caught up in the crushing weight of the past upon him. He mentally counted to three struggling to keep the memory out when tiny shudders rocked over him. His fingers returned to the blankets with fingers curling into the damp fabric of the blanket beneath him. A searing wave of heat rocked over him, causing his heart to race faster. His breath was coming out in low, shallow pants guiding his mind to that dark place he'd vowed to never return to. Again, he counted to three, speaking in a shaky voice and repeating the process over and over again, until all his mind could focus on was the pink and orange neon glow filtering into his apartment from the church across the street. Each night it would taunt him with its offensive eyesore of a glow, blinking away until the late hours far just beyond his reach.
Swallowing down deep breaths as the shudders died down, he fought for clarity in his thoughts. His dry, aching throat served as a reminder of the screams that had guided his nightmares. With each exhale, things became clearer as Tony comprehended that his head was pounding. He opened his eyes to survey the soft glow of his quiet apartment, taking in the familiar lines and shadows of his new life when his red cotton pajama pants clung to his skin. His bare chest was soaked, revealing that in the heat of the summer city evening, he hadn't been immune to the warmth that kicked up after his window air conditioning unit had ceased to function properly. Three weeks ago, he'd contacted the landlord to request a fix, but the primitive machine had been beyond repair according to the inept, sloppy, overweight man who'd barely mustered up enough energy to look at it. In his useless exit, Tony had torn the damned thing apart, working to turn it into a security system monitoring the world beyond the walls of his bleak habitat after it had proven useless as a means of temperature control. Now it blinked back offensively when Tony noted that the holographic clock that he'd installed as an additional option to the security system itself flashed upon the ceiling revealing that it was far earlier for his awakening than he'd intended it to be when he'd passed out in a drunken stupor.