Title: Red Ink
Author: Evil_Little_Dog
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: This is a derivative work, and, as such, I make absolutely no money writing this. Darn the luck.
Summary: Tony doesn't think his hands will ever be clean.
Notes: Written for the LJ Community, Comment_Fic.
He doesn't like to look at his own hands. Deft and dexterous, he'd rather look anywhere else, at someone else's hands. Even after all this time, he can see the red soaked into his flesh, the red which never fades. It lingers on, reminding him of all the people who died while he was creating weapons of mass destruction.
Oh, because he did it for president and country, he was a good guy, right? Except his weapons found their way into the hands of people who weren't protecting others, but bullying them, out-right killing them, and that made the difference.
Tony Stark wishes he could blame Obadiah for all the red dripping off his fingertips, but the crosshairs come straight back to him. He was the one who'd designed the weapons, he hadn't paid enough attention to where they were going. No, he was living a life as high and free as an untethered kite, and now, he'd be the one to pay for all the innocents who'd been caught up in the crossfire he hadn't even known existed.
He cannot erase the past, any more than this red will wash off his stained hands. He can only move forward, and try his best to atone, until his ledger's balanced.
(Not that he thinks it ever will be.)
~ end ~