Tony sat at the helm of his jet, the metal bird cutting across the sky just above the clouds. Barton accommodated the seat adjacent to him, manning the controls. Tony's attention was elsewhere. The genius was fixated on a device in his hand, a simple sleek piece of glass no thicker than a quarter of an inch with a black frame. His eyes scanned the screen, analysing the data that was being displayed to him; diagrams, percentages and a string of numbers meaning very little out of context.
"Jarvis, analyse the left repulsor, somethings not right with these numbers." Tony rubbed his chin, checking over the data again just to be sure, the short hairs of his goatee rough against his hand.
"Running diagnostic now." His A.I replied, monotone as usual.
"Stark." Another voice snapped. Tony was forced to turn his chair, meeting three disappointed faces. "Pay attention." Steve stood arms crossed disdainfully. Bruce and Natasha were seated nearby giving him the same disapproving glare.
"You went over the details before we left, I don't need a recap." Tony smirked a little too smugly.
"We're going into an active war zone, Stark; must I remind you without one of our heavy hitters." The Captain tamed his temper, wanting the so-called genius to see reason.
"Just because Thor is off world somewhere means nothing." Tony was frustrated, not one to hide his discontent. "Shouldn't be relying on him."
Tony understood when together, the dynamic of the team worked and worked well. Even so, with Thor's absence Tony determined it wouldn't negatively impact the overall effectiveness of the group. Especially against the foe they were supposedly facing.
"Don't underestimate what we're up against" Natasha spoke up, red hair vibrant in the grey and black interior of the advanced aircraft.
Tony couldn't help letting a chuckle escape in response to her comment.
"A.I.M is nothing more than a branch of Hydra. One that has never developed anything substantial."
"So, let me get this right. A.I.M supposedly distributing weaponry to the Taliban is not substantial?" Natasha interrogated. "Or maybe you are struggling to see how detrimental it is, particularly since that was how you made your fortune." She continued, holding nothing back as she tossed the man's past in his face. Tony went to retaliate, his features darkening momentarily. Thinking better of it he rose from his chair, slipping the device he held into the back pocket of his black jeans. Tony didn't even make a remark, walking past his team to the back of the jet, where the Iron Man armour resided.
"That was a low blow." Steve told Natasha under his breath, not comfortable with how she handled the situation.
"He's focused now." Natasha calmly pointed out. Steve then comprehended the strategic move she had made, through words alone Natasha had grasped Tony's undivided attention, which was rare.
"Banner get up here, need you to look at something." Clint called, Bruce proceeding to take Tony's seat next to him. "What is this we're coming up on?" He pointed to one of the panels in front of them, the screen showing the ground, its dimensions bellow in the form of contour lines. Strangely ahead of them the screen displayed nothing, a clear cut off from the rough sandy dunes below to apparent flat terrain.
"This isn't possible, we're still an hour off from the American outpost." Bruce messed around with the display wondering if it was a technical fault, the screen still showed the same bizarre imagery.
"Want me to fly bellow the clouds, get a visual?" Clint addressed the group.
"No, we risk being seen, our arrival needs to go unnoticed." Steve ordered.
"Understood." Clint proceeded on the same course, everyone except Tony watching as they edged closer to what appeared to be the edge of the world.
Tony was struggling silently to figure out what had caused the terrain detection, or simply the display, to malfunction. While his mind toiled around with the mystery, he easily adjusted the repulsor in his gauntlet, as if tightening a screw. The suit then stood whole again.
Everything then happened simultaneously. The lights in the jet flickered, the engines began to spit and sputter. Tony braced himself against something solid, Steve having to grip the back of the pilot's chair to stay standing.
"We've lost all power, reserves failing!" Clint announced, frantically flicking switches, pushing buttons with no effect. The jet started to descend into free-fall.
A pain erupted from Tony's chest. He found himself on his knees, hand reaching up and gripping the reactor in his chest unknowingly. All signs of power had been extinguished, all except the fluttering blue light of the arc reactor under Tony's black t-shirt.
"Stark, I need you to… Stark!" Tony looked up to find Steve forcing his way over to him, gravity yanking the aircraft back down to the ground. He felt the Captain's hand on his shoulder but shoved him away to summon his armour. The red and gold suit encased him on command. It was clear the suit was struggling to power up, the arc reactors usual limitless supply of energy failing.
"Strap in!" Tony ordered the others, he managed to hide his pained breathing through the mechanical tone of the armour. His metal boots clanked against the floor as he moved towards the cargo door. A quick glance over his shoulder Tony found everyone buckled in, allowing him to proceed. The back of the jet opened, the wind spiralling and screaming as the crippled bird plunged through the clouds. Power warnings flashed all over his helmet display, Tony simply acknowledged them before leaping from the aircraft.
The thrusters in his boots did not initiate immediately, a few flashes of blue prior to full ignition. With his friends lives in his hands Tony wasted no time in propelling himself under the plummeting aircraft, metal against metal, his hands braced against its belly as he attempted to slow its descent. The ominous numbers of a digital altimeter on screen, measuring the frightening rapid decrease in altitude.
"Divert all power to thrusters!" Tony commanded through gritted teeth, the original stabbing in his chest transitioned to a deep burning sensation.
"Sir…"
"Just do it!" Tony interrupted Jarvis, the artificial intelligence following his command without further protest. Even though Tony's efforts were affective, the rate the jet was diving towards the ground being counteracted, it had caused another issue to surface. With the forces of gravity and propulsion in conflict with each other, the aircraft had begun to pitch and spin, a spin Tony would be unable to correct without conceding to gravity. Scorched land bellow was rushing up to meet them, Tony had no choice but hope the aircraft crashed in a favourable way.
He remained under the jet even after the tail end collided with the tip of a sand dune, the eruption of golden earth fascinating as well as terrifying. The thrusters in his boots died and Tony was now just along for the ride. The nose of the jet burst through a dense bank, wings being ripped off on impact, the stocky fuselage and cockpit rolling several times. Tony's world went black in an instant.
Steve woke with the side of his face uncomfortably to the floor; his head was banging; the smell of fuel burned the inside of his nose. Shield on his back, he heaved himself to his feet. Sand invaded the metal interior, the cockpit no longer attached, sun doing its best to breach inside the man-made structure. Leaning on what was left of one of the walls, Steve probed the side of his head, dried blood coated his right ear and neck. Steve deduced that he must have been unconscious longer than he first anticipated. Leaving the shelter of the wrecked back end of the plane, a distinctive roar pierced the unforgiving landscape. One of the wings of the plane sored past him imbedding itself in a sand dune with a mighty thud.
"Hulk, listen to me!" Shouted a familiar female voice. Steve stumbled from the wreckage, boots heavy in the sand and he clambered out of the impact zone. Out in the open, between what was left of the fuselage and cockpit, was the Hulk.
"Shit." Steve cursed to himself. He adjusted the speed of his approach, taking more care.
"You need to listen to me." Natasha again called to the green giant, she perched on an injured leg only a few meters from the him. The Hulk breathed heavy, he seemed as confused as Bruce would have been in such a situation.
"You know us Hulk, we're your friends." Steve announced himself, Natasha flicking a look at him over her shoulder.
"Friends." The Hulk took a deep steady breath, doing something many would think impossible for the big green. He began to calm down.
"You with us?" Steve moved up beside Natasha, offering her aid in standing which she refused.
"Hulk protect friends." He replied, a passionate hit to his own muscular chest.
"You do that." Steve signalled him an ok, not sure what else to say. With the Hulks initial anger subsided he inspected his surroundings, his height giving him view over the mounds of sand and dirt.
"Where's Stark and Barton?" Steve asked his colleague, following Natasha as she hobbled towards the cockpit a good five meters away.
"No clue, came to a few minutes ago… Been dealing with Hulk since." She informed him; her black bodysuit covered in sand.
Reaching the nose of the shattered aircraft they found Barton hunched over in his seat, groaning as he was coming around. From the look of the footprints in the sand, Bruce had hurried away from the cockpit, unshackling the Hulk as far away as possible under the circumstances.
"We dead?" Clint grunted as Natasha helped him sit up right.
"Not yet." She jested back in a serious tone. Natasha visually assessed him; other than a few scraps and forming bruises he had fared well.
"What hit us?" Clint then asked, the others helping him from his seat. Establishing he could stand unaided the others pulled away.
"I don't think anything hit us." Steve responded, taking a step back out into the open where the sun could reach him.
"Whatever happened, all that matters now is getting away from here. It would have been hard to miss an aircraft like this going down." Natasha adjusted her footing, finding a better position for her injured leg as she followed Steve, Clint trailing just behind them.
"We find Stark and regroup away from here, come up with a plan from there."
"Stark's not showed up?" Clint couldn't make the others meet his eye-line. There was an awkward silence as the three of them stopped in their tracks.
"Not yet." Steve turned, his posture confident, determined. Clint went to speak, hesitating, Steve allowed to take a few steps away.
"If he hasn't showed up yet…" Clint looked around, pressing his dry lips together.
"I don't mean to sound insensitive; Tony could be six feet under." Steve stopped. "We might never find him." The bowless archer choked out.
"He made it." Steve snapped. "He made it." He repeated under his breath, continuing the trek back to the main wreckage.
Authors Notes
Hellllloooo, hope you enjoyed this chapter, will be updating regularly been working on this story for a while now :P Big fan of Tony Whump and everyone worrying over the genius. Love to know your thoughts as always and I will see you soon!