Tittle: Highway to Disaster
Fandom: Iron Man & Thor & Avengers [films, not comics]
Pairing: Loki/Tony
Summary: Afghanistan doesn't go as planned. Tony lives everyday in terror, surrounded by people he can't trust, there's a hole in his chest and something niggling in the back of his mind. He's the definition of the word fine, he really is. Why does no one believe him?
Prologue
He was in the cave again, Yinsen next to him as they replaced the car battery with something else.
He was in the cave as the army invaded, and took him away.
He was watching as the cave started to shudder around him. He was lucky that the cave was a maze, since it would take a few seconds for the explosion to hit them instead of instantly. He grimaced, thinking about Yinsen, but he couldn't think about the guy now, not now, they had no time.
The explosion approached fast, as he knew it would but it still took him by surprise as he was expelled forward, Rhodey on his back, grabbing him and shielding his body, as they rolled in the sand, the terrorists around them either running away or aiming their guns.
Rhodey had his gun out, he heard two shots before Rhodey was out, slumping on Tony as another shot took out the person aiming at them… Tony could see, as he was dragged, how everything was destroyed. How Rhodey was left in the sand, like one of the victims, Tony reached for him, shouting that Rhodey was still alive, that he could be saved! He could see fire pouring from the cave, but a shot drew his attention away, he looked at Rhodey again just to see a pool of blood slowly forming under him.
"We need to go! Man down!"
"No! Rhodey…"
"Man Down!" The soldier repeated.
"Rhodey! Rhodes!" Tony shouted…
He woke up in bed drenched in sweat, dry heaving as he got out of the covers, kneeling on the floor, J.A.R.V.I.S. slowly bringing up the lights.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, remembering the scene of his rescue, the cave exploding, the soldier taking him to the helicopter. The brand of Stark Industries ingrained in his brain from both sides of the war, branded across the shrapnel on his chest, branded from the gun that shot Rhodey, from the bombs that took out Yinsen and the five soldiers with him.
"J.A.R.V.I.S. how's Rhodey?"
"Still in the hospital sir, there has been no change."
No change.
It had been a month already and his best friend was still in a coma. The doctor had said there might be consequences; his brain had stopped getting oxygen for almost six minutes due to the injury, but his chances were recovery were still good.
He wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.