Author's note: In case you missed it earlier, this chapter contains heavy spoilers for Iron Man 3. You can skip this chapter if you haven't seen the movie yet and don't want to be spoiled.
Chapter 4: Pacific Ocean
Tony can fit an uncanny number of heartbeats in between Maya Hansen's pointed finger and the first missile hitting the house. That's kind of astonishing, considering how it feels like his heart stops entirely. Maybe it does: all he can think of is Mark 42, and wrapping it around Pepper's body before she hits the floor – or wall, or anything solid.
The inside of the living room has been transformed into a cloud of gold and gray, suffocating and yet, at the same time emanating the stench of destruction. Tony moves like in a daze, issuing orders, telling Pepper to get out, to take Maya – to stop hesitating. The clock's ticking on all of them, and they're running out of time. The very foundations of the building shake, heralding the end.
Tony supposes it's a statistical anomaly that a terrorist can actually be goaded into attacking a known superhero, but Tony feels anything but in control of the situation, even though he was the one to issue the threat. Clearly he wasn't thinking straight, but he has to think straight now, because they're all going to end up at the bottom of the ocean if he doesn't pull himself together.
More rockets hit the building, explosions and flying debris following seconds thereafter. The floor's already torn in two, the westward side of the house resting above the water, tilting dangerously. Tony feels exposed, stumbling around, trying to find his footing. His balance eventually becomes impossible to maintain, sending him rolling and sliding. He briefly wonders if he would survive should he fall into the water. The odds are not good enough to try, so he grabs onto the first solid thing he can reach, just as his feet break through already cracked glass.
For a moment he's not sure whether he'll make it, but adrenaline is often a life-saver, spurring him on to pull himself up as he tries to catch his breath, sitting on a supportive beam, feet propped up against the floor. The tightness inside his chest suggests another panic attack is well on its way, and he can't handle that right now – which is the perfect time for J.A.R.V.I.S. to call through the destruction:
"Sir, Ms. Potts has cleared the structure."
The AI sounds tense and harried. Tony isn't afraid for him, not really, because there are backups of the backups, and J.A.R.V.I.S. is transferring important data even now, as long as it's possible. However, it might be the AI is worried about him, and Tony tries to alleviate that by summoning the Mark 42 armor.
Once the pieces lock around him, the panic dissipates. He's suited up. He's safe. He'll be able to fight back. Even with the suit malfunctioning, Tony can make a stand.
They came to his home, and now he's going to roll out the gold-and-red carpet for them –
He doesn't really, but not for lack of trying; he takes down two of their choppers, but the second comes back to bite him in the ass as it crashes into the building, and Tony's world bursts into flames and pressure that throws him forward, the HUD barely compensating against the sudden brightness, and even in the suit he can feel the fall to the lower floor of the house.
Tony clings on, trying to get his bearings, to come up with another plan, another approach. He just needs a moment…
As he turns, he hears a faint beep over the constant rumbling, shifting of elements and occasional explosion when another explosive hits the building. Half-way across the floor he sees the bots. In the midst of all the smoke and rubble it's impossible to tell them apart; one of them has fallen and the other is struggling to stay still. Whether it's an attempt to help each other or seek comfort in the midst of destruction, Tony isn't sure.
Some animal part of his brain would love to curl up in a corner with Dummy and You, to wait for this to be over.
The entire floor continues to tilt precariously towards the ocean. Tony wishes that he could tell the bots it's going to be okay, but if he can't convince himself, it's doubtful the robots will believe it either.
Above him, the old suits explode, startling him. He should move, probably, but all he can do is watch the flames swallow his past, one by one. It's like someone pushing over dominoes, and the final shove sends the remnants of the house falling. The big finish…
He doesn't have flight power, and the water rushes closer to greet him. Tony tries to brace for impact, but it still shoves him upwards, then sucks him back down again. He can't tell up from down, caught in a whirlpool inside the remnants of his workshop. He feels sick to his stomach. Closing his eyes makes it better and worse at the same time, and he can feel wetness near his waistline: the suit is leaking.
The realization hits him a moment before he feels something tightening around his neck. He doesn't know what it is, doesn't have time to grasp for it before it pulls him down relentlessly. All Tony can do is kick and squirm feebly until it's over and he hits whatever is beneath him, the object around his neck still taut.
His hands struggle to free himself from the invisible trap. He can feel the pressure, his ears aching, and there's definitely more water inside the suit than there should be. Something broken, leaking.
He doesn't want to drown at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.
There's no light beyond the arc reactor, but far above, rippling, he thinks he can see the sunlight. If he can just get free, he can swim back up. He'll make it. He has to.
Something blocks the sunlight: a large shadow moves down towards him, sparks flaring deep inside it like a last attempt to revive a broken lamp.
Tony wriggles free of the obstacle holding him down – a wire – three seconds before the large shadow hits him. He can't tell which section of the house it is, but the weight and mass are more than he can simply push away. It crushes him down into darkness. Desperation claws at him from the pit of his stomach. Water fills his nostrils, briefly, as he breathes in. He hates the sensation, and how it throws him right back into the cave, his head underwater, a pressure on the back of his head holding him down.
Tony's still in the suit, though. No one's holding him down but an inanimate block of concrete; he can blast, punch and dig his way free.
Only, it's a long way up, and he feels sluggish when he starts to struggle. Is he even moving? He tastes the ocean in his mouth – can't get the taste of it off his tongue. It mixes with the slight aftertaste of blood. His eyes sting, and he can't see much of anything, the HUD flickering in and out; there's no room for light where he's buried. Each and every wound and scrape on his body burns from being touched by the salt water.
He tries to focus on the single-minded task of getting himself free. Regardless, he keeps slipping, freezing, slowing down. He tries to count seconds, tries to figure out if his heart might actually give out from the stress of the situation. He can't think clearly, because he's starting to panic, all over again.
Tony gasps, sputters, tries to move his head and see something. He opens his fingers the best he can, where they claw at sharp corners, and fires the repulsors, over and over. He sees a flash of them, can feel the jarring power, and then there's smoke in the water, blocking the blasts and he feels the concrete move, shifting, crushing him, and he belatedly wonders if he's just buried himself deeper. Is he even going the right way? The suit barely operated above-water, and now, up could just as well be down…
Eventually, he thinks, he may have punched through. He can't be sure, it could be just another gap between pieces of what used to be his home. He's running out of air, and room to breathe. He can't move his legs, and how is he going to keep moving if he can't move his legs?!
In the darkness, Tony contemplates giving up. No one would know… He tried. He more than tried. He's hurt, tired, not just a little bit scared, and he wants it to be over. He doesn't want to remain confined inside the armor for long horrible minutes, feeling it fill up with water, crushed from all sides and knowing he's not going to get out.
If he weren't so afraid of the sensation of drowning, he would just get it over with. Open the faceplate, somehow, breathe in for a final time…
"Sir, take a deep breath," J.A.R.V.I.S. calls out, suddenly; a voice in the darkness, where he thought he was trapped alone, and his heart skips a beat. He barely has time to inhale, his brain struggling for comprehension, when he feels the gauntlet remove itself from around his right hand and forearm. Cool water rushes in, unstoppable.
For a few seconds he thinks this is it, finally. His end rushes in to meet him, and he can feel the suit filling up. As his chest seizes in anticipation, and he knows for a fact he doesn't want to go out like this, no matter how much he had contemplated it earlier, he manages to spare a thought as to what his AI thinks he's doing. Is there a plan? Is he malfunctioning? Has he decided it is infinitely better to put Tony out of his misery than leave him to slowly suffer –
Something closes around his bare hand: unyielding metal in the shape of a hand. The gauntlet! The squeeze is vicious, and clearly there is no intention to let him slip out of the hold. Not even if it leaves bruises and risks breaking a few bones.
Tony feels his body moving, dragged upwards, and his upper body finally becomes free of the carcass of his house. The grip lets go of his hand, and for a second it feels like he just lost the only lifeline he had left, but the gauntlet returns, slipping back around his fingers, hand and forearm – sealing Tony back inside with half the ocean, it feels like.
He moves his head, desperately, water sloshing inside the helmet. He's losing the thread of his thoughts, even though he shouldn't, because he's so close now, to being free, to escaping his supposed tomb at the bottom of the ocean. He's swallowed too much water, though, and the air's gone. Coherency is leaving him with every frantic heartbeat, his consciousness narrowing, seeking the HUD aimlessly as a few new shapes appear on it. They mean something, but he can't think. He can't breathe, either, when he no longer manages to hold his head up.
J.A.R.V.I.S. says something, the water distorting the words.
Something about flight power.
Faint vibrations travel along his body and Tony feels like he might be moving – that maybe he'll be able to draw another breath after all. His world tilts and narrows further. He wishes he could speak, to confirm that J.A.R.V.I.S. is still with him – that the AI will continue to save his life for a little while longer – but he can't stay awake.
to be continued…
