A/N- due to... some technical difficulties here and there, i decided to replace the first chapter with a new one. BUT the story is still the same, just that i had a friend who's willing to BETA the first chapter and the coming chapters and so.. i feel like the 1st chapter was a bit rough and this new one is more.. nice and all. anyway.. i'm so sorry for the late update. and thanks to the readers and followers, i really appreciate what you guys did and hopefully, more people will be R&R this story in the coming future :) and i'll be posting up the new chapter very soon so.. enjoy!
i own nothing but my pure imagination.
chapter 1 : expectations
Palladium in the chest: not a good way to die indeed. He's been dreading the moment when the device's reading will actually show 100% toxicity. The network of veins, or "high-tech crossword puzzle" as Rhodey would refer to them as, has now travelled further up his neck, almost reaching his right earlobe. It seemed to have spread like wildfire the last few days, faster than before. He traces the lines with his index finger while looking at the reflection from his bathroom mirror. It used to be just lines, painless, some sort of a weird natural tattoo that appealed to the ladies as it adds to his au natural badass-ness (which becomes a word because he is Tony Stark). But now, even a simple touch, a trace of his fingers on the lines, his nerves feels like they're on fire. He winces slightly when his finger traces a bit too roughly.
Despite knowing the fact that he should be worried, feeling death all over him does not suit his character. So he would just put up that half smile, a half giggle here and there after he winces because of the pain. He knows better than to pull himself down. Moreover, he knows better than to pull anyone else down with him. His past had already done enough of that, he won't let himself do it again. He leaned on the counter, eyed closed, letting his head down and sigh deeply, absorbing everything, listening to nothing but the silence and his own breathing. His dress shirt was left unbuttoned, the blue light of the reactor cast a shadow on his appearance, making him look more grim than he already was.
He knew his time is getting shorter and shorter, this time all he wants to do is right his wrong until he can't do it anymore as his time runs out. He had sworn and vowed, since the day the arc reactor became a part of him, to make amends. Part of him argued that it never was his fault that Obie betrayed him and used his inventions against him, but part of him also knew that if not because of his genius, his mind, those weapons would not even exist in the first place, and that he did started all this. All those innocent lives that had been lost, is his fault nevertheless. Whatever the argument is, it's his fault and his mistakes and now he will do what's right. He'll fix it. Like how he fixed any broken machines around him, he will fix it. Whatever it is.
He put the toxic scanner into his pocket, hoping that maybe he, if there really are such things as miracles happening in this world, would not be seeing it anytime soon. He'll do his research again with Jarvis, his loyal AI after this, even though they failed again and again, he knew better than to give up. He's not Tony Stark if he gives up that easily. With that thought in mind, he took a deep breath, and stood straight, fixing his suit and dress shirt, before he went out and 'enjoy' the rest of his day, whatever ways he would accomplish that.
TBC..