Chapter 7: Side of Tony

Tony was freaking out.

Which was, you know, pretty normal.

But at the moment the panic level had gone to 'Ignore It And It'll Go Away' to 'Holy Shit Am I Dying?'

It started with Chrissy, Christine, whatever that reporter's name was. She showed him the pictures, the ones taken yesterday. The Jeraco missiles, the ones he had suffered through not to build, refused to build, Yinsen had died so he didn't have to build-

Breathe in

Hold

Breathe out

Tony's shoulders crept up to his ears as he tried to disappear into the leather of the back seat of the limo, mind racing over everything that had just happened in the last few hours. He and Pepper had been having a… somewhat okay conversation. And the pull he felt towards her, gravity like a black hole dragging him in, an asteroid on the event horizon. It was shattered when they leaned in to kiss. It wasn't the right time, wasn't the right place. He could feel it, he wasn't ready yet even though he wanted it.

Tony waved a hand in front of his face, as if to disperse the lingering awkwardness, even though he was alone.

He had gone to get that drink, the reporter cornered him and shoved those images in his face. It was as if she laid his mistakes bare before him, what had happened in his negligence as he toyed in his basement working on the suit.

The genius felt a burn in his gut, the desire- no - the need to get out there and do something himself.

He remembers standing next to Obie like a lucid dream, everything in crystal sharp clarity but overlayed with a sense of wrong.

Obadia was double dealing. Selling his work to people who used them to hurt and burn and kill and-

Breathe in

Hold

Breathe out

Tony was a smart man. He could connect the dots, even if they were painful to place. The missile demonstration. That wasn't a demonstration for their military. Rather, a fancy, backhanded way of showing the blackmarket dealers just how much punch the gear Obadia was selling packed.

Tony had left in a daze, calling Happy to pick him up and take him home now, please. The driver (-his friend-) didn't say a word, just opened and shut his door, then drove off.

Take me hooome, country roooaads

God he was delirious. Is this him dying? Can you die from a panic attack? Where is, god, where is-

"HAPPY, STOP THE CAR!"

The car sssssccRREEEEECHHED to a halt.

Tony was flung from his spot and to the front, thankfully landing on the soft leather seats on the opposite side he was sitting.

"Boss! Boss what is going on? What's wrong!?"

"Licorice! I- FUCK, I forgot Licorice at the party!" Tony exclaimed loudly, fingernails digging into the seams of the seat. This was not helping his panic, he felt worse.

God, how could he forget his cat? How could he forget her when she's been around so constantly this last month? How does he forget these things, how did he overlook this, how did he overlook the missiles, how did he overlook Obie-

"Boss!"

Tony was gasping for breath, there were hands on his arms, holding him firmly. His hand was on someone's chest and he could feel their chest as they breathed.

Breathe in

Hold

Breathe out

It was quiet for a while, only the murmuring of Happy reminding him to breathe deep and even, coaching him through the motions.

Tony's arm hurt. His whole body hurt. His head pounded and his chest burned like someone was holding one of those fire sparklers just under his skin.

"Now Boss, I need you to tell me what happened." Happy said calmly.

"I- I left Licorice at the party. I need to go get her."

"No, you're going home. I'll go back and get her."

"Happy- Happy wait, please, I need-"

"No Tony. You can't go out again like this, you'll only make yourself feel worse and I can't calm you from another panic attack in the middle of the paparazzi." Tony grimaced. He didn't like the sound of that at all. He nodded slowly, reluctantly.

"Okay," Happy started, slowly setting the smaller man back into the seats, "Now let's get you home."

Tony did get home, but he couldn't stop moving. He grabbed his armor, his skin itching and tight until the upgrades were finished. Weapons hidden within every inch, reinforced alloys that could withstand bullet rounds and beatings. And, when he folded himself within it, he felt numb.

He built this armor for pleasure, for protection… now he wore it to war.

Breathe in

Hold

Breathe out.

AN: Was ist das? a second chapter in less than two days? i was on quite a roll and people were freaking out over Tony last chapter so here! This chapter is an experimental style! i tried to convey his panic through the words and writing My good friend Avery helped edit this chapter for me! If you're looking for an editor check them out here: softenedhearts gmail. com