Tony had nothing against meeting beautiful women. But he had to admit that there were things called "right time" and "right place," and he didn't think bleeding from shrapnel wounds in the Afghanistan desert while the explosion-inflicted ringing in his ears was slowly getting replaced by gunshots was either of those.

Tony was pretty sure he was in shock. That was probably a safe bet, all things considered. Not that he was sure much of anything right now. He did have some training, mostly on being held hostage, his parents hadn't been stupid, thanks. And neither was he. Tony knew "some training" wasn't going to cut it, but then again, he didn't think anything would quite "cut it" when you were unable to move, just waiting for someone, most likely a hostile, to find you, and knowing exactly how likely it was that you were going to die because you had designed the shrapnel bomb which had blown up right in front of you.

His ears were still ringing when a voice carried over to him. "Oh, isn't this lovely. The Merchant of Death finally getting his part from the fruits of his trade." Tony started, tried to sit up, managed not to scream, and finally just turned his head to look at the speaker. It was a woman. A very lovely, red-headed woman in fact. Not someone you'd expect to see in the middle of a firefight.

Except when Tony really looked at her, he realized that's exactly where you should expect to see her. War zone seemed to suit her like meetings and high heels suited Pepper. The presence of a gun on her would have been less remarkable than the absence of one was.

But this still wasn't the time, and a part of Tony was already chalking this up as a hallucination induced by the shock. "What- who are you?"

The woman flipped her hair carelessly and laughed. It was a beautiful laugh. It was also horrifying. "Who do you think I am?"

"A figment of my imagination," Tony answered after gasping in enough air to speak. He had never been afraid of saying things as they were and he wasn't starting now. But he had to wonder. That leather jacket looked awfully detailed... On the other hand, he wouldn't be very surprised if that was just his brain, it did stuff like that.

The redhead laughed again and Tony shivered. "Oh, you don't really believe that, do you? No, you're smarter than that. But I suppose you're not that religious, so I'll have to help you out a bit." She smiled, and the only word that could describe that smile was sharp. "Ever heard of the four horsemen of the apocalypse?"

Tony still wasn't convinced that this was all really happening, but he also saw no reason not to go along with it. At least this was a distraction from the pain and the horror of the entire situation. The worst thing that could happen was that he'd go insane, and when you remembered that Tony was pretty sure he was going to die very, very soon anyway, he didn't think it mattered that much. Besides, a lot of people would say that he was crazy long before all this. Had said. Pretty often, too.

So. "I have, actually. And, tell me if I'm wrong, but that would make you War, right?"

She clapped a few times. "Oh, very good. I knew you were smart, but that's quite impressive. Nicely done." She lowered herself on one knee and Tony really wished he could move away without probably killing himself. "I have a lot to thank you for, Merchant of Death. Your weapons make this war so much more interesting. It's beautiful to watch them scramble for the biggest gun. And you just keep making them bigger."

Tony was suddenly aware of how quiet it was getting. The explosions had settled and only the occasional sound of machine gun fire ringed out in the desert. The fight was ending and the winners were no doubt going to find him soon. Tony was also pretty sure that he was going to pass out. Most likely very soon. Blood loss and the disappearance of adrenaline can do that to you.

War glanced somewhere behind her. "Looks like it's time for me to go. You have a date with destiny, and I really want to see where this is going." She leaned down. Tony froze. She was very close, so close that he could see the fire and pain and destruction reflecting in her eyes. "I'm sure we'll get to know each other much better in the future," she whispered in a way that made Tony's blood run cold. She pecked his cheek, so very lightly, stood up and disappeared.

As Tony fought against the darkness edging in around him, he had to wonder. And as the sounds, blurred, too blurred, came closer but not clearer, and as hands he couldn't make out anymore raised him from the ground but not from the darkness, he couldn't stop thinking about those eyes. The fire. The pain.

And for the first time, Tony was afraid of War.