This was officially the worst day of Tony Stark's life; and it had started out pretty great. Generally speaking, he supposes, a Jurassic Park reenactment in Manhattan was not ideal. Still, the stegosaurus was undeniably cool.
And, Tony had wrestled a velociraptor. No joke. An honest to god velociraptor.

Then, he noticed the T-Rex. And the woman it was stalking. Hunting. Chasing. His missiles were gone, used up on the velociraptor pack. None of his smaller gage weapons were enough to do anything except annoy it further. He was too far away. He was the closest of his team. He started swearing even as he pushed everything into the thrusters. Every scrap of power available.

"Oh shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit!"

"Iron Man?! Report!" Steve or Natasha? Doesn't matter, no time to answer.

Should have remembered to switch comm links though.

"Jarvis, don't bother with shielding, they won't matter if we're not fast enough."

Jarvis' even-keeled 'Yes, sir' overlaps with a frantic shout with everyone on the team, because of course they all heard it.

The adrenalin speeds Tony's rocket-fueled brain to supersonic speeds. He can't even process the thoughts he's having at the speed they're happening. He doesn't bother having Jarvis run the numbers; his brain is faster. He can't grab the woman and carry them both free of the rampaging dinosaur's trajectory. His best hope - only hope - is to knock her free, take the hit, and hope she doesn't die in the collision.

His body throbs with pain inside the suit, he's pushing so hard. He absolutely has to time his shift from forward to reverse thrusters perfectly, to the millisecond, or they both die.

One of Hawkeye's arrows goes spinning past him. Tony can see every rotation of the shaft.

"Oh shit, shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!"

He collides; he's timed it perfectly. Sort of. He'd meant to hit the woman first, then get tangled in the tyrannosaurus' legs, hopefully tripping it up and being kicked free in the process.

He hits the dinosaur first, which is okay, because now it's off balance enough that they, tin man and mutant lizard combined, go careening around the woman. But this thing is not pleased, not at all, and instead of Tony rolling free, he's targeted and trampled.

"Iron Man.. crrrkrkcrkkrkksssssssss... -an! Can you crrrkrkkrkrkknssssssssssssssss..."

Tony thinks he might be screaming. He hopes not, because hearing that over the comms gives people a headache like nobody's business. The suit is collapsing beneath the behemoth pressure exerted by the clawed feet. Now, there are a lot of things that Tony doesn't know (not actually that many things), like how one makes mutant dinosaur lizards (he's sure he could figure it out). What he does know, is that this should not be happening to the suit. This should, absolutely, hurt. Couple of bruises, definitely, maybe a dislocated knee, or shoulder (he will never (probably never) get the joints as strong as he wants them). Still, his suit, his multi-million dollar gold-titanium (and a little bit of iron, because, seriously, it's in the name) baby should not be crumpling like a cheap tin can. It's Hulk-proof. Theoretically. It's hard to convince Bruce to beat him up even when he's Not-Bruce. Its 100% definitely Thor proof, though, so it follows that it should be dinosaur proof, right?

Wrong. Talons pierce his armour enough to ruin its structural integrity, and the brilliant alloy that's saved his life so many times folds in on him like so much origami paper.

His arm is undeniably broken. Possibly a shoulder blade. Definitely some ribs. He really hopes the blinding pain in his femur is not what he thinks it is.

He's also (almost certainly) screaming.

It's not until the thing kicks him up that his screams become words.

Not more than 30 seconds can have passed.

"Steve! Steve Steve Steve Steve Steve Steve..."

He's in it's mouth.

And there go a couple more ribs.

"Steve... Ste... Steve... "

Tony's not speaking anymore by the time Hulk appears, 45 seconds after his initial collision. Hulk tears the T-rex apart, which would admittedly be way more awesome if Tony could have seen it from much farther away. Still, he's appreciative.

"Thanks, buddy," Tony pants, hoping something's still intact enough for his words to be carried outside the suit. It's a mistake though, because that's the last of Tony's air, and the filtration units of the suit are beyond gone, and Tony's being strangled by his own armour.

What a way to go.

Then, Steve is there, finally, it's taken him an entire minute to get to Tony, but that's okay because he's here, lovely Steve, calm and rational and fucking fantastic in a crisis, there's no one better, because the first thing Captain Wonderful does is rip his face plate off so he can breathe.

Which is just... Of course, he's done it because he wants to see Tony's face, determine if he's still alive, but. That's fine. It's all fine. Air. Air is good. And oxygen. Tony loves oxygen.

"Tony! TONY! Can you speak? Don't speak, just breathe oh God, Tony, you're gonna be okay, why are you such an idiot!" Cap is babbling. Rather a lot. Tony just breathes. He'll deal with Cap's freak out later.

As soon as he calculates he has enough oxygen to articulate what he needs, he starts strategizing. He probably won't die. He's just going to hurt rather a lot, for a very long time.

"Cap... Shut up." That takes so much more air than Tony thought it would, and his ribs are really not approving this whole 'deep, heaving breaths plan'. Still. Cap shut up, so bonus points to Tony.

"Need you to get Natasha... Thor... Don't care... others... need those two," he instructs before his air is entirely gone. He pants and gasps and tries not to jerk with the effort of getting air.

"Steve!" pant pant pant "... - the hell are you going?"

Steve had been clambering up, moving away from Tony, but freezes as soon as Tony snaps at him.

"Widow and Thor?" he ventures, like maybe Tony isn't a genius.

He's alive enough to roll his eyes. "Do you or do you not have a comm unit?... Idiot." Pant pant pant...

Steve is too worried to even blush, but barks out orders like he wishes he could.

"Still have that StarkPhone I gave you?" Tony pants some more, beckons with his unbroken arm. Steve shakes his head though, and Tony is nearly swamped with pain again.

"Where would I carry it in this thin- TONY! What are you-" Tony has seized Steve by his collar and hauled him down so he can bark in his ear:

"Barton, I swear to GOD, if you tell me that you don't have your StarkPhone with you right. now. My last act on this world will be to eviscerate you..." Pant pant pant pant. "Ask me if I'm bluffing."

"Jesus, Stark," Barton calls, ninja-ing down the building behind them, jumping the last ten or so feet to cut down on travel time, sprinting towards them. He throws himself into a barely controlled skid, slamming to a stop against Cap, who grunts but doesn't move. The phone is in Tony's broken hand a second later, and he does not scream, but probably whimpers. Not Barton's fault. It is his dominant hand.

"Okay, okay, I'm okay," he pants, "Go if you need to, Barton. Dinosaur wrangle." And then he's gone. "Cap, you need to get this glove off," Tony says, whipping his uninjured hand in Steve's face. It takes a lot more pulling and tearing and brute force than Tony might have liked, but then it's off and he can finally, finally, hear Jarvis again. Whom he may have installed on all the Avenger's phones... maybe.

"Jarvis, chest scan," Tony orders, and then beams of light are dancing over the suit, trying to connect with the fried circuitry and measuring his temperature and heart rate. Tony feels a little bit bad, coding Jarvis to respond like a trained dog in serious situations: name, command, done. No room for snark or unnecessary contributions, which are some of the things Tony loves best about Jarvis.

"Information acquired, sir."

"Probability of increased trauma to necessary functions with removal of chest plate."

"47%, sir. 25% if coagulant agent remains intact and can be injected. Respiration will improve by 57%, sir."

"I like those odds," pant pant pant. Ah, Thor and Widow. Perfect. "Do it, Steve. Release catches are here, here and here. You'll probably have to pull. A lot." Pant pant pant. "Jarvis, analyze arc reactor." The gaping, aching freezing feeling in the center of his chest is becoming disturbingly familiar. "Okay team. Go."

Tony screams a lot and tries not to thrash, as Natasha's clever fingers pry at his armor, tugging and freeing wires, while Steve and Thor's hands pry with inescapable strength. It hurts like hell. They don't get to uncover his abdomen before he's shaking too hard for further removal to be safe. But he can breathe. Holy crap, he can breathe.

Tony slurps in air in great gulps, and then stops abruptly when this triggers a coughing fit, and then proceeds to pass out. Great. Lucky for him, Black Widow is extremely creative when the situation calls for it (it does) and is not so fond of Tony she's going to be squeamish about hurting him. She might be his favourite right now.

He comes to gasping, vision white with pain but he's present. This time, he remembers not to panic, and sucks air in through pursed lips, and breathes out through his nose. Everyone waits (not very) patiently for him to stop actively dying before the twitches start.

"Arc reactor scan complete, sir," Jarvis says, and Tony hopes he's the only one that can hear the worry in the AI's otherwise montone programming. "Code 42."

"Oh wow. Okay. Motherfucker," Tony takes a moment, just a moment, he literally only counts to five, to just freak the hell out. "Okay. This is great. Good job team, we are golden. This is not a problem. Thor," breathe, breathe, breathe, "I need you to pay very close attention, and memorize everything I say to you, or everything in the workshop will do it's best to kill you for messing with what I'm about to tell you to mess with." Thor nods, very seriously, only looking marginally less like a golden retriever. "Good. Go into the workshop. The Inter-Galactic Coordinates we calculated to designate Asgard? Those are your entry code. Once you're inside, go to the corner with the bots' charging stations," breathe breathe breathe, "And say 'Dummy, Operation Parameters Emergency Code 42'. Dummy, You and Butterfingers will evacuate their charging sections, and stay out of your way," breathe breathe breathe, "Don't say any other words, or give them any other instructions, not even Jarvis, or they will do their best to remove you from the workshop entirely. Once they're clear, lift the charging station, and remove the tile that's right in the corner. Take the elevator down another level to the garage. Underneath the Mazarati is an empty place. Insert the tile. Underneath the yellow Porsche is another patch that looks like an empty tile. Punch out the plywood cover and leave your hand in the gel in there. It's gonna feel weird, but it's just a scanner. Bruce helped design it, so it's way safer than something I made alone," breathe breathe breathe, "When the scan is done, you're going to see another compartment open somewhere on the walls of the garage. Inside will be a spare arc reactor. Grab it and bring it here, as fast as you can. You probably have five minutes before this one gives out and I go into cardiac arrest." Hopefully, five minutes. He can hold out for just five more minutes…

Thor is already gone. Good. Wait, did he pass out again? Because Thor is really gone, like, not even a speck in the sky gone.

"Okay. This all needs to come off," Tony orders Cap and Natasha, grimacing as he does so. "When we replace the reactor, I'm going to jerk, and I'll probably break something else if I seize in this thing." Between him and Jarvis, they talk Natasha and Steve releasing him from the rest of the armour like a clam from its shell. Tony passes out again when they remove the shoulder piece and the dislocated joint slumps into his shattered scapula. They don't revive him until he's the rest of the way out. Perfect planning.

He wakes up when Thor craters to a stop right beside him, conscientiously free of lightning, gripping an arc reactor firmly in his hand.

Oh. Shit.

The thought bears repeating. Out loud.

"Oh, shit," he gasps, but beckons for Thor and the reactor anyway. Natasha narrows her eyes at him, and then at it, and she's freakishly clever and just… immensely terrifying, because she puts it together.

"Tony, that's not one of the…" she trails off, logic taking over. They don't have time for anything else.

Tony grimaces, really pissed off with his past self right now. They last thing he needs to deal with is a non-vibranium-cored reactor, but that's what he's got on hand right now. "Yeah. It is," he takes a deep(ish) breath, "Hey, it's not paranoia if they really are out to get you."

Steve is frowning very earnestly, taking the reactor from Thor, who launches off again, answering what sounds like a call from Barton. "Tony, what's wrong?"

"So very, very many things Cap. No time. Let's do this."

Natasha slides right up against him, and he grabs her elbow in a sudden flash of debilitating panic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I just… I'm freaking out. This is okay though, I promise. This is fine. This is not a problem, Pep- Can I call you Pepper? I'm definitely already thinking of you as Pepper in my head. Sorry," Tony pants, trying to banish the image of Obi reaching into his chest when he looks at Natasha, trying to replace her with his favourite fierce redhead in the entire world.

"How bad is this going to make you, Tony," Natasha says, but it's softer than her usual tones, which is really helping with convincing him this is Pepper. Pepper is always irrationally concerned about his well-being. Ridiculous.

"At this point, I'll take the heavy metal poisoning. This could look really, really bad." Then Tony bows upwards against his will, only just remembering to let his limbs go with the movement of his chest. The light from the vibranium reactor flickers and dies. It's gone. It's gone. No no no no it can't be gone -

Steve's patience breaks, and he reaches instantly for the device, large hand with strong, ripping tearing clawing fingers spreading his ribs open to take his dead, mechanical heart -

Natasha slams him away from Tony, who can suddenly breathe, as soon as his vision is filled with flying red hair and delicate hands. Natasha is ruthlessly efficient, pulling out the arc reactor expertly, and Tony is reminded that she's the only Avenger who had access to operational manual portion of the arc reactor plans, and is very very flattered she read it. Tony knew. He knows his own mind, his own neurosis. If it couldn't be Pepper, it would have to be Natasha.

The new one is plugged in, and his heartbeat feels sluggish, painful, weighed down, as though all his blood vessels are turning to cement, his plasma to sludge. That was fine though, that was good, it was okay.

With a perfunctory click-hiisss, the reactor settles into the housing. Tony groans, feeling the old-familiar arrhythmia and tachycardia settling into his chest like one of Koch's butterflies. But hey, heartbeat.

He gathers his determination, in shreds such as it is, to push one last coherent thought past the pain (he really is almost insensate with it at this point - his adrenaline is on it's last leg). Maybe two thoughts.

"Sorry, Cap… Tasha was the only one that had access to the operation guide for the reactor…" he'd meant to say more, but it was gone now. Still, the vitriolic guilt and frustration pulsing off Cap subsided somewhat, so Tony decided to count this one as a win.

"Why?" Steve asked, suddenly, hurriedly, as though thinking he could use this opportunity to keep Tony talking.

The bee-dur bee-dur bee-dur of sirens appeared in the distance.

Tony didn't answer, so Tasha -Natasha did.

"Because it was only ever going to be me that could change it. Pepper's the only one he lets near the thing, and if she can't be here…"

"Needs to be here," Tony supplies, quite intelligently he thinks, all things considered. "Need Pep. Need… her. Pepper… she… knows. Pepper…"

Pepper.

Pepper.

Pep-

Natasha and Steve watch as a macabre grid of black scrawls itself over Tony's skin, highlighting the grotesque curvatures of his broken body. The screams of the sirens approaching aren't nearly loud enough.