B for Blunt Force


Hey everyone! Thank you for the reviews and the positivity :D here's the next chapter. This is one of those "Tony wasn't saving anyone, he was just being really careless" Tony Whump stories. Enjoy!


AC/DC was blasting over the surround sound in Tony's shop. His black t shirt was soaked with sweat and grease, his hands were grimy, and his wrenches had dried spittle on them from being held in his mouth while he worked beneath his cars. It was a good day.

Tony had just finished installing the last of four JARVIS interface systems into his hot rods when his cellphone buzzed loudly on the countertop. One glance at the holographic caller ID had him smiling.

"JARVIS, put the good Lieutenant Colonel on speaker, would you? And turn down the tunes."

"Absolutely, Sir." Came the posh reply. In moments, "Back in Black" was nothing but a whisper in the background, and Rhodey's face was up on the screen.

"Rhodey! To what do I owe the pleasure of your fine visage upon my wall?" Tony smirked and planted his ass on the expensive red car-creeper. The wheeled cart, meant for lying upon to easily work under heavy loads, was soft under his tush – a welcome reprieve from the pavement he had been sitting on moments ago as he calculated out a parallel circuit. Rhodey smiled at the disheveled state of his oldest friend. Say what you want about Tony and his extravagant habits, but the man was never happier than when he was at home working with his hands.

"How are ya, Tony?" Rhodey's voice was light, but his voice was tense. Tony picked up on it right away. This wasn't exactly a nonchalant "just-checking-in-to-see-how-you're-doing" king of call.

"What's wrong, James."

Rhodes looked a little surprised, but his mouth set into a tight line. They had known each other for too long, there was no reason to be startled that Tony had noticed something was up. "Tony, it's not really a… well…I need your advice I need your help, really, and it's a little embarrassing."

Tony nodded, suddenly quite serious. He got up. "I'll get the suit on, Rhodey, one second."

"No, Tony, you don't need the-"

"What did you do this time, fly into a sanctioned air space? Drop a bomb on the wrong city?" Tony was rummaging around, looking for a fresh T-shirt.

Tony, this has nothing to do with the Air Force, its-"

"The Navy, then? I swear to God, Rhodey, as a taxpayer I would like to file a formal complaint concerning the lack of accuracy that our trillion dollar military has to offer-"

"Jesus Christ, man, I-"

"Nope, not Jesus, Rhodey, Just me. Though I suppose we're practically the same person if you look at-"

"TONY, DAMMIT, I WANT TO ASK NATASHA ON A DATE." Rhodey yelled exasperated over the phone.

Tony Stark, to his credit, said absolutely nothing. He just stared at his friend through the screen, absorbing his clear embarrassment and his obvious discomfort.

"I…I just…" Rhodes stammered on after a moment of stunned silence. "She's just really smart, and obviously beautiful, and I didn't know if she was…um…Seeing anyone? And I thought because you live with her that maybe you could put in a- a good word? And wherever she wants to go, ya know, umm, maybe dinner? And a walk, or-or a movie? I mean, I…I wasn't sure what she really liked to do in her spare time, so if you could just help…help a brother out?"

The silence continued. Rhodey felt a deep blush creeping under his already hot cheeks. Tony just stared at him, like a fish gaping for water.

And then he began to laugh.

Tony Stark started to giggle. Giggle. The poor Lieutenant Colonel got such an indignant look on his face that Tony started laughing even harder. Pretty soon, they were full out guffaws that had tears pouring down his face and a stitch in his side. His face hurt, his nose was running, he dropped to the floor and started rolling around, all the while trying desperately to communicate to Rhodey how sorry he was that he couldn't stop laughing, shooting him the most apologetic and pitiful looks from his brimming, crinkled eyes. Rhodey, shocked at first, just started to pout; but once Stark began snorting on the floor, Rhodey couldn't help himself. Against his own will, Rhodey started chuckling, shaking his head back and forth, not really sure how they got to this point. Finally, Tony started to die down, his outrageous bouts of laughter dissolving into those post-hysteria pained groans.

"Ohmygodrhodey," Tony slurred right before another groaning chuckle. "I-I'm really sorry, buddy I just," a slight hiccup, "You don't…You don't know what you just almost got yourself into." Another pained chuckle, Tony stayed on the floor, taking deep breaths with a glee-filled expression. "She would have eaten you alive."

Rhodey shook his head, admonished. "Yah, brother, I suppose you're right." And with that, he let out another chuckle. "If only, if only…"His voice was wistful, but accepting. "Well, on that note, what are you up to today?" With the two old friends, such a drastic change of conversation was completely natural and very fluent. Neither one even batted another eyelash at the notion that not five minutes ago, the colonel had practically expressed a death wish.

"Me? Oh, I'm just integrating JARVIS into the R8. I did the Bentley and the Tesla Roadster yesterday." Tony patted the car's bumper affectionately from the floor. "JARVIS will have permanent dibs on shotgun."

Rhodey nodded in appreciation. "Sweet. Hey, you should put one of those automatic smoothie machines in the dashboard." Tony laughed and shook his head.

"Rhodes, my dear man, if I was going to put a drink dispenser in a two hundred thousand dollar car, it sure as hell wouldn't pour me smoothies." The twinkle in his eye was clearly visible. Cheeky little shit.

"Alright, well, then I suppose you don't want to come with me for a night out, then?"

Tony looked pained, but his gaze settled on his cars. "Naw, Rhodey. I gotta finish tuning JARVIS' systems, making sure they run properly. The code will take another eight hours at least."

"That's too bad," Rhodey began. Now the pilot was the one with a twinkle in his eye. Tony noticed it immediately, and perked up, curious. "Cuz I managed to get two tickets to the Victoria Secret After Party at the 4 Seasons for 10 o'clock tonight, but if you're too busy, Tony, then I'll just take Barton or Rog-"

"NO!" Tony leapt from the floor, immediately willing to put off the code for another day. Rhodey laughed; Tony stark may be a reckless and spontaneous ass sometimes, but in so many ways he was so predictable.

Tony was on his feet in instant, shouting assurances over Rhodey's chuckles that he'd be ready to go by nine. The engineer was taking one, two steps backwards at a fast pace, his hands up and a smile on his face. He never saw it coming, but Rhodey did. The taller man's face fell from humor to alarm, his voice harsh and loud.

"Tony, watch out for the-"

CRASH.

Tony had stepped back too quickly, that third step landing his left foot directly on top of the car-creeper. The swiveling backboard slipped smoothly from beneath his foot, sending Tony catapulting back into the counter space of the workshop; the back of the shorter man's head connected solidly with the mounted cast iron vice that hung perpendicular to the corner of the table. Rhodey heard the sickening thwack, and watched in horror as Tony crumpled to the ground, eyes closed, completely unresponsive.

"Tony! Dammit - TONY!" Rhodey stood on the other end of the line, so close to his friend yet so far away. He was on the other side of the city; it would take him no less than thirty minutes to get to the tower.

"JARVIS!" Rhodey shouted into the empty room. "JARVIS get someone down there now!"

"Yes, Lieutenant, I have already alerted every resident of the house and every one of Sir's close friends in a mile radius that Sir is in need of aid." The AI sounded polite as usual, but there was no doubt that somehow, even the AI's voice had a sprinkling of tension and concern. Rhodey relaxed a little bit, but didn't take his eyes off the unmoving form of his friend. JARVIS was better than a watch dog. Of course the computer had already called for help; his number one directive was to protect the creator – that creator being none other than Anthony Stark. Rhodey could remember giving Tony so much shit when he saw that line of code. "Really?" he had asked in awe of his friend's ego. "You're calling yourself The Creator? No God complex there, no sir, none at all." Tony had just laughed, calling him a jealous jelly bean, if he remembered correctly. The quick flash of the memory left a bitter taste in Rhodey's mouth now as he sat silently waiting for someone to burst through the door in the basement and make sure Tony was alright.

After what seemed like ages, but couldn't have been more than a minute or two, Rhodey perked up at the sound of heavy footsteps sprinting down the stairs into the basement. JARVIS, against protocol, had left the door open, passcode be damned at a time like this. From the entrance emerged the star-spangled man, himself, Captain Steve Rogers. The alert must have interrupted his daily workout, because the man still had earbuds hanging from his neck and a slightly sweaty crew top clinging to his broad chest. The man's muscles were enviable, and Rhodey who never considered himself to be unathletic, felt himself pale in comparison. But now wasn't the time to be jealous, Rhodey mentally nagged himself. He had to let Steve know what happened.

Steve had just entered the workshop, took one look at a crumpled Tony and at the upturned car creeper and deduced as much as he needed to. After a split second he was over by Tony, laying him flat on the ground as gently as a mother would lay down her sleeping child. He pulled off his t-shirt and rolled it up underneath Tony's damaged head, not wanting it to be in contact with the heard concrete floor any longer than it had to be.

"Dammit, Tony," Steve huffed under his breath, but still loud enough for the phone to pick it up and make it audible to Rhodey, "What have you gotten yourself into this time?" the reprimand was not harsh at all. Instead, it was smothered in concern.

"Um, I can help with that." Rhodey waved awkwardly from the holograph against the other wall and Steve almost jumped out of his skin at the sound.

"Jesus- sorry, Rhodey, you just - dammit you scared me." Recovering quickly, the Cap added, "What the hell happened here?" gesturing to the unconscious Tony.

"Well, long story short, Tony and I were on the phone, he got up, slipped on the wheely-board-thing, and smacked the back of his skull on the table clamp."

Steve glanced over to the vice in question, following Rhodey's gesture. He winced in sympathy. It looked solid and sharp. The Captain's concern for his friend only grew.

"Do you think…Do you think he's ok?" Steve looked up at Rhodey with such huge eyes that Rhodey wasn't sure he was even looking at Captain America anymore. Instead, he saw the small kid from Brooklyn that always seemed to be forgotten when people sung the Cap's praises or recited his legends over and over. Steve was just like Rhodey, in this instance: a scared friend who felt absolutely powerless.

"Uh," Rhodey cleared his throat. "Steve, just check his eyes for me, ok? Are the pupils the same size? Do they react to light?" Rhodey paused while Steve carefully pried each one of Tony's eyelids open.

"They seem to be functioning…properly? Yes, Lieutenant Colonel, I think they're…I think they're fine. That's a good thing, right?" Steve's wide eyed stare returned to Rhodey's projected face, but this time brimming with a cross between stress and hope rather than despair.

"Yah, that's really good. Actually, way better than I thought." Rhodey took a deep breath, releasing tension in his shoulders he hadn't known he was holding. He ran a hand over his head. "Steve, look, if his pupils aren't blown and there's no blood coming through his nose or his ears, then he just knocked himself out. Just a little bit of blunt force. It's a miracle he's alright, but I wouldn't go rushing to the hospital yet. Besides, if Tony knows you brought him to the doctor, he won't speak to you for a week." Steve gestured his agreement with a small twitch of his lip. Tony hated hospitals more than he hated Brussel Sprouts - and he one time blasted Steve right in the ass with his repulsors (only on 20% for safety's sake of course, Steevie) during a team training routine because the good Captain had dared to cook the repulsive vegetables for dinner the night prior.

Steve nodded, accepting Rhodey's advice as the truth. "Alright, then, James. I-I think I'll just take him upstairs, get him cleaned up a bit, and keep him on the couch where I can watch him, then. JARVIS? Monitor his vitals and let me know if anything starts getting even close to not being right." The AI responded in assurance.

Rhodey addressed the computer this time: "and JARVIS, alert me immediately if Tony gets any worse or has to be transported to the hospital. Send his status updates every half hour to my phone."

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel."

With that, the concerned pilot said goodbye to Steve on the phone, and with one last pained looked at his best friend he hung up, begrudgingly returning to work.

The blonde super solider carried the limp engineer bridal-style up the staircase of his workshop to the ground floor where they took the elevator to the Avengers suite. The living room was beautiful, all glass, overlooking the New York Skyline and, of course, with clear access to the Iron Man landing pad.

Steve held Tony tight, the whole time listening to the steady and peaceful breath sounds of the dark haired Italian, letting their consistency and strength comfort his own nerves. He laid the man on the large couch in the living room with incredible tenderness, bracing his head on either side with a two rolled blankets, immobilizing his neck just in case. He pulled a third blanket from his own room down the hall, spreading it across Stark's lower body and mid chest. He removed the engineer's work boots, placing them squarely at the foot of his makeshift bed, military style, out of habit. Steve fetched an ice pack from the fridge (one of many. Honestly, they needed another freezer just to hold the cold compresses) and laid it beneath the shorter man's head, slipping it under cautiously.

The blonde had just planted his ass in a chair by Tony's side of the couch when he heard an aggravated cacophony ascending in the elevator. As quietly as possible, Steve slipped from the chair at Tony's side and ran to the Elevator dock; he was ready to shush whoever the hell was making such a noise.

He wasn't prepared for the whole team to come stampeding out of the elevator and run him over.

Clint: "Where is he, he's not downstairs, I checked-"

Bruce: "Well he wasn't in my shop either, I just was-"

Nat: "I just got in from my run, do you expect me to know-?"

Thor: "WHERE IS MY FRIEND, THE MAN OF IRON, WHY DOES HE REQUIRE AID?!"

Steve: "STOP."

Steve pulled himself away from their angry mob, barely stopping himself from falling to the ground. In hindsight, he probably should have stood farther back from the doors. "Guys, guys," he whispered as loudly as one can whisper. "Tony is ok for now, he had an accident in the lab and nobody was down there to help. I already got him; he's sleeping on the couch." The urgency left the voices of his teammates, but the concern was still there. Immediately, but at least in hushed tones, they all began bombarding him with questions. Steve just rolled his eyes, grabbing Bruce. "Banner, you're the doctor. I gave him a quick up and down, but I need your opinion." And with that, he walked the scientist through a mixture of what he had deduced upon arriving at the scene and what Rhodey had told him. They got to Tony's bedside - er, couchside, rather- and Bruce began his walk through of Tony's responsive systems: pulse, pupil reaction, ear and nose check – he even lifted Tony's head slightly to get his fingers to the injury. The only thing he found was a rather impressive bump, but there was no bleeding, no skull fracture, and no signs of concussion.

"Well," Bruce stood. The others looked at him attentively. "I'm happy to report that there is nothing permanent, and nothing damaging." Bruce let out a small chuckle. "Tony just managed to, well, knock himself out."

Everyone smiled, relaxing. Clint was the one to break the silence this time. "I don't know about you guys," he began, a smirk growing on his face. "But I'm not gonna let him live this one down for a while."


Tony awoke with a pounding headache, but no nausea and nothing to worry about. He vaguely remembered talking to Rhodey, stepping back, the sensation of falling…and then nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Suddenly, the memory struck him, filling him with urgency. RHODEY. SHIT. THE AFTERPARTY.

Brown eyes shot open. "VICTORIA'S SECRET!" Tony yelled, sitting upright much too fast. His world spun, but settled back to normal very quickly. He glanced around, unsure of how he'd gotten to the suite, but uncaring. There were models that were waiting for his undivided attention and wealth. He checked his watch: it was 11:30, but he could still make it to the hotel for a good hour or two of long legs and short dresses if he hurried in the shower.

He threw back the blanket on his legs (woah, who put that there?) and swung his feet to the side of the couch. He smelled terrible, and his hands were black with grease. The models would not like that. No, no - not one bit. He sprung to his feet like lightening, took one fast step forward, and –

POOF!

Tony's foot landed on the same fucking bright red car-creeper that had sabotaged him in the shop, but this time when he flew backwards, he landed safely on the thousand dollar leather upholstery, sinking deep into the couch in a puff of cushions. He stared, unbelieving, and absolutely horrified.

How did it?…Who put it?...Whaaaaa?

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

"GODDAMN YOU, CLINT."

And from the depths of Avengers Tower came a fucking giggle.


Haha thanks guys, sorry if it's not an action-packed chapter. I kind of wanted to write some little ones where the team was just milling about Stark Tower. Please Review! I need more prompts!