Steve didn't know where to start, the jet had gone down in what felt like a matter of seconds. Tony one moment there, the next gone, cargo doors closing behind him. The gold, red armour having so simply sprung from the metal box. Steve could safely assume that their somewhat safe landing was Stark's doing. He proceeded to foraged through what he could remember, recalling the jets decrease in speed and the sudden spin that directly followed.
Steve cupped his hand above his brow, shielding his eyes from the sun as he scanned the crash site. The horizon a dirty yellow, mountains distant but surrounded them. He walked past Natasha who was shifting around some shredded metal, her fingerless gloves doing nothing to protect her hands. Clint was searching in more of a grid formation, even though he had his doubts he didn't want to give up on Tony either. It had hurt to say what everyone was thinking. That this time, Tony just couldn't make it out.
"Stark!" Steve found himself calling out for his friend. The Hulk growling as he pushed the fuselage the right way up.
"Tony!" Natasha followed suit, shouting out hoping for a reply. For a sign.
The sand was so disturbed from the crash, making it impossible to indicate any impact that could have been made by Tony.
The search continued, no one wanting to call it. The heat was starting to get to them, time becoming irrelevant as they sieved through the sandy dirt. Steve's attention was then diverted; the Hulk appeared to be in distress, his form shrinking, green skin fading. Natasha made the first move towards Bruce. Steve stationary not sure whether to remain dedicated to his search or to also assure Bruce was ok. With Clint still focused on finding Tony, Steve made the decision to see to Bruce. On arrival Natasha had gotten him off the ground, Bruce desperately gripping at his stretched trousers.
"Banner?" Steve looked the shaken man up and down.
"I'm… I'm alright." The scientist stammered. Steve watched him make a realisation, his eyes finding only three of his fellow Avengers on the landscape. "Where's Tony?" Was all he had to say to create a lump in Steve's throat.
"We haven't…"
"Over here!" Barton suddenly hollered. Steve's head snapped around. Sprinting in the direction of the shout, battling the sand to get to the man. Clint wasn't in view, his voice coming from ahead of the where the cockpit had made its final rest. Upon reaching higher ground Steve could see torn scraps of metal dusted across the landscape, Clint digging something out of the sand.
"Help me." Clint demanded out of breath as he pulled mounds of sand away from an armoured hand. He never looked at the Captain, knowing of his arrival from the shadow he cast in his peripheral. Steve let his knees sink into the unstable ground, hands working together, delving into the sand shovelling it aside. It became apparent that Tony lay on his front, them clearing the sand off his back. As soon as they could, together Steve and Clint grabbed either arm pulling Tony from an early grave, rolling him onto his back once free. Natasha and Bruce lingered behind them, not wanting to get in the way, not unless called to do so. Steve's hands hovered around a battered metal pipe that pierced the armour in the side, the unknown depth worrying.
"Tony?" Steve could see the arc reactor in his chest was visually humming, light diming before brightening again.
"We need to get him out the suit." Natasha urged, no longer on standby she found a place at Tony's side. The armour itself was badly damaged, scuffed and dented.
"Can we?" Clint asked, an urgency amongst the small group.
"You're going to need to trust me." Her eyes darted between Steve and Clint. Bruce had taken a couple steps towards them but no further, still clutching his torn and shredded trousers with one hand, bear feet burning in the hot sand.
"Ok." Steve firmly nodded, Clint's silence a confident sign he was with her.
"I'm going to need one of you to pull it out." Natasha exchanged places with Clint, taking his place at Tony's uninjured side. Her slender hand reached under the armoured arm, grabbing hold of a latch with the tips of her fingers. "Ready?"
Steve clutched the pipe with both hands, his grip aggressive.
"Ready."
"Now!" Natasha ordered. The protruding pipe was ripped from the armour with tremendous force. Steve tossed it to the side instantly, refusing to notice the blood that coated the extracted end. Natasha fumbled around at the side of the suit, her work resulting in the amour attempting to open. The extensive damage caused in the fall delayed but did not prohibit the suit from unveiling the man within, after consideration and grinding of metal it released him.
Steve unwillingly hesitated. An action he did not normally preform, that alone taking him off guard.
Tony had a clear wound in his side, blood being absorbed by the fabric of his top.
"Is he breathing?" Steve found himself asking. Natasha put her ear above Tony's lips, pulling back after a couple seconds.
"He's breathing." Natasha confirmed nodding unknowingly.
"You need to apply pressure." Bruce added from behind. Steve obliged, pressing one hand on top of the other over the wound. A groan surfaced from Tony. Blood had dried under his nose, a small cut above one eyebrow from the impact.
"We've got you Tony." Steve comforted.
Tony was in pain, not specifically in one place, he was in pain everywhere. Even in his armour the impact could have killed him. Other than the body-wide discomfort, there was a notable weight on his back. He gave it little concern due to the fact he still battled with consciousness. Becoming aware of voices and movement was a step in the right direction, the weight he had felt being relieved. Next thing he knew he was being pulled free from the suffocating blanket, the restriction he had felt covering his limbs gone, brief reprieve of this feeling corresponded with a new sharp stabbing in his side. The fog cloaking his mind started to clear, breathing hitching every couple of breaths as the world flooded back into perspective. Muffled voices bounced around, trying to convince him to pry open his eyes.
More movement. Hands grabbing at him.
Tony yelped as he was lifted from the ground. Time slipping every time his side was jostled. He was back on the floor, the ground again pressing against his back.
"Tony?" He heard a whisper.
"Tony?" The voice asked a little louder.
Tony then was struck with the truth, his memories pushing to the forefront of his mind. He tried to push his back off the floor before his eyes even opened. Hands pushing him back down, pressure constantly on his side, an ache prominent in that area.
"Stay still, Stark." The commanding, however comforting voice told him. Tony conceded, opening his eyes after deciding to re-join the world. First to greet him back was Steve, eyes watching closely, a smile forming on his face. "Welcome back." Steve appeared relieved.
Tony became aware of the other presence soon after, Natasha crouched at his other side, Clint and Bruce standing behind her.
"What I'd miss?" Tony coughed, surprised with how dry his throat was. A burning in his chest was tremendously uncomfortable. He quickly rummaged through what he remembered, re-evaluating the events that had brought him to this moment. Filling in the gaps with what he assumed happened to create a reliable timeline.
"Not much." Clint commented, the back of his hand swiping sweat from his brow. Even in the shade the air was hot. Not sure how he got there, Tony lay under the shadow being cast by the wrecked fuselage. Tony committed to sitting up attempted to right himself, his side however protested before anyone could force him back down.
"Take it easy." Steve didn't move his hands from his wound, the constant pressure thankfully numbing in a way.
"What happened?" Tony did remember more than he could have anticipated from such an incident, but what precisely caused his injury eluded him.
"You got struck pretty good with some debris." Bruce the first to offer an answer.
"Fantastic." Tony sighed.
"Tony… the arc reactor." Natasha spoke, voice laced with concern. "It doesn't take a genius to see somethings not right."
Tony didn't need to see; he could feel something wasn't right. Steve aided him in sitting up slightly, back against the grounded Jet. Looking down at his own chest he could see the arc reactor struggling, light blinking and dulling in intensity.
"The electromagnetic pulse has disrupted the internal hardware." Tony informed the others, even though he knew only a couple in his present company would be able to make much sense of what he was saying. "It's what brought the jet down." He grunted from a brief stabbing sensation.
"Explains why the power reserves never initiated, the jet was dead in the sky as soon as it was hit." Clint cursed, wishing he had seen the sighs of their approaching danger.
"That void in the terrain detection system, it was picking up on a blackout zone." Bruce revealed his realisation, one Tony had already deduced even in his awful state.
"We need to move; we can't stay here." Steve could feel danger looming, the longer they remained at the crash site the worse the feeling got.
"You and Barton grab what you can from the jet, Banner will help me with Tony." Natasha took charge, the confidence her team had in her leaving her unchallenged. Natasha replaced Steve's hands over Tony's bleeding side.
"That's no pleasant" Tony announced through gritted teeth. Steve and Clint moved away, rummaging back through the wreck, this time for supplies.
"Bruce, I need something to bind the wound."
"On it." Trousers still being clutched at his waist he retreated to retrieve what she had asked for.
"Stark." Natasha began. "The reactor is down to you. Banner might be able to help, but no one knows that device better than you."
"I've got time." He replied rather calmly for the perilous situation he was in. The look on Natasha's face stating she was not taking his word for it.
Bruce soon hurried back, a tension belt in hand. The belt once having held down cargo, stopping it moving around in flight.
Tony did his best to help them, lifting his back off the floor as they slipped one end of the belt under him. Natasha wasted no time, not giving any council as she combined both ends to make a loop, tightening the fabric mercilessly.
"Can you not do anything awful for five more seconds?" Tony asked after he had managed to get his breath back, having already let out a disgraceful cry of anguish. A groan transcending into a pained laugh. "Your bedside manners need work." Tony let his head rest back, taking deep breaths to try to soothe what his body was going through.
"The reactor. What do you need?" Natasha got to the point, ignoring his childish remarks, Tony clearly using humour to escape his current situation.
"The suit." Tony told her, hand on his wounded side, the other steadying himself as he shuffled about to get his wound in a less straining position.
"You get back in that suit, it will kill you." Bruce reminded the man who made the suit in the first place.
"Yeah I know. Wasn't the plan." Tony rolled his eyes; he knew he could sometimes be foolish, but he did have biased interest in keeping himself alive. "The reactor's process of storing the power generated by the element has been disrupted."
"Meaning?" Natasha prompted.
"Meaning, its only running on reserves."
"Can you fix it?" Bruce asked, brushing sand off his own hands.
"I'm not sure." These words came as a shock to even Tony. "My guess is when the E.M.P went off, it shorted the channels that transfer power."
"How come the Jet was unable to engage its own emergency reserves." Bruce questioned.
"The Jets backups run on the same active system during flight, the E.M.P is designed to take out all systems simultaneously" Natasha answered.
"The only reason the arc reactors reserves were unaffected is due to the fact the power itself is self-sustaining, the hardware that functions to direct that energy was affected." Tony scrunched his eyes at the coming and going bursts of discomfort from the very thing in his chest he was talking about.
"The element that powers the reactor has been broken from the circuit, no longer being able to feed energy into the cells that distribute it." Bruce summarised to make sure he had understood fully. Tony offered a thumbs up in response, just happy he wasn't going to have to explain himself twice.
"Banner!" Clint called interrupting the flow of the conversation. Bruce turned to have a pile of clothes tossed his way, using his free hand to grasp what he could, pressing it to his chest for stability.
"Thanks." He unenthusiastically replied. He looked to the others, a gesture made indicating that he was understandably going to get changed, eyes squinting as the sun beamed brightly in his face.
Tony pushed his back against the body of the jet, heaving himself inch by inch up out of the sand.
"Stark?" Natasha asked offering him a steady hand. "What's the plan?" Her hand latched around his arm as he caught his breath.
"When I think of one, I'll let you know."
Authors Notes
Hello again. oooooo some good Tony whump in this chapter, them looking for him in the sand actually gives me a new meaning of life. Hope you enjoyed it too, more to come. See you soon!