A/N: Major AU.
The scotch seemed maddeningly bland to the billionaire. He swirled the glass with elegance, pride. Even in his darkest hour his sense of stature would not leave him. He was one of the worlds most famous arsenal suppliers at one point and is now a superhero. A bloody superhero. He would act as such.
He snorted disdainfully and set the glass (albeit harder than needed) onto the counter with a clunk, the expensive liquor splashing out of the sides like water in a leaking dam. He glared vehemently at it and stood from his perch on the tall bar stool, looking around his thrashed penthouse.
The battle with Loki had really taken a toll on his quarters, as well as the rest of New York. But he was Tony Stark, the only thing that mattered to him was his own hardships.
Or so he liked to think. It was easier that way, you know? the facade of cocky and arrogant. Quipping at anyone who got too close and flirting with anyone just far enough away. It served as a viable distraction.
Distraction. Life was full of those. You have just recently broken up with your boyfriend, so you go on a shopping spree as a cushion. You've lost your job, time for a drinking binge. Parents died, time to lay in bed for hours on end, asleep. Unable to think of anything other than what your subconscious cooks up. Parents don't understand you, maybe you'll score some weed and let your mind wander far away from the monotone lectures and sound of breaking glass.
Distraction was beautiful, and needed. Tony just wished he could find a sufficient one. It's hard to forget you had a hand in millions of deaths with the arsenal of mass destruction you were mega-producing. Or the people you'd hurt with your 'bed and run.' It was hard to forget the look on your fathers face when you called him an old coot that wasn't doing his job right and demanding control of the company.
No, time did not heal all wounds.
The man ran a gruff hand over his face to clear his mind. Distractions were also a lie. A crimson lie to distract Stark from this scarlet world. Tat color seemed to be dominant.
Scarlet littered the streets and pavements, littered peoples hands and minds. Red everywhere. Blood oozing from wounds, pouring onto the pavement. A knife sticking out of the chest, the wielders hands never to be cleaned again.
Red was dominant, all consuming. The sooner you realized that, the better. Maybe Agent Romonaff wasn't the only one with too much red on their ledger.
Tony stalked out of the room, back stoic and eyes shrouded.
He did not like the color red.