Stony chapter 4

It worked. It was actually working. The creature seemed to be deflating like a soufflé made of craft glue. Its howls were earsplitting, and appendages were flailing everywhere, cracking window glass and overturning a hotdog stand. The detergent spewed across the charred membrane serving as its skin, the unappealing smell of pine-fresh garbage rising in steamy clouds. Steve barely acknowledged the fire crews who rushed up to his level from below, scarcely handing over the hose before leaping onto the asphalt at a run. Steve felt a certain level of satisfaction as he heard the monster's wails and watched as it collapsed in on itself. It failed to shroud the constricting feeling in his stomach that he couldn't explain.

Team mates team mates team mates tony find fix solve oh lord what if no mustn't think like that….

Steve waded into the blackened muck without a second thought, knee deep as he fumbled and searched. He couldn't see over the vast pillowy expanse of neutralized monster-goo, and he forced himself to stay in soldier-mode. The radio was abuzz with concern for Tony, voices cutting in over each other to ask and relay garbled information. Steve blocked it out.

"Tony!" He called, tripping over something submerged.

Oh god oh god oh god people can't last this long without air he's suffocating in his own breakfast how could I have let this happen Tony…..

"TONY!" desperation crept into his voice and his eyes swept the murky surroundings. He whipped off his cowl and rubbed the back of his neck, forcing his way over to where he thought Tony had last been seen.

He heard the squelch and almighty gasp four minutes and twenty eight seconds after turning on the detergent hose. Steve counted. A few meters to his left, completely and utterly covered in acrid slime, Tony emerged, the whip of his head sending a wide arc of muck into the air. The whites of his eyes stood out starkly from his face and his mouth worked open and shut like a fish on the floor of a boat. Tony staggered forward, and over the relieved babble on the intercom Steve could feel an irrational sort of rage building, the sort which refused to slow down for logic or self preservation, preferring to sweep headlong to conclusions without letting Steve know. He watched, anger boiling up to the surface, as Tony threw him the same cocky grin and muttered, "Well, that didn't go as I planned."

Steve's hands curled into fists, and he tromps (yes, "tromps" is really the only word for it) over until he is well and truly within Tony's reach. He jabs a finger into Tony's chest, careful of the arc reactor even in his rage, and with a thunderous expression Steve hissed,

"Is this all a joke to you?" Tony's eyes widened in confusion and Steve felt a gleam of satisfaction as the grin slowly subsided. Steve is slightly surprised at the amount of venom he mustered into so few words.

"What do you mean-?"

"I mean," Steve continued loudly, "do you not care at all for the safety of your team mates? This city? The world? Because that's CERTAINLY what it seems like to me." He was on a roll, his blood ringing in his ears and his breath hitching in his lungs. His voice was most certainly not getting slightly shrill at the end of his little rant. Tony was looking at him funny, his eyes burning Steve's cheeks, and Steve turned away, pacing in the muck. Or at least, attempting to. It more resulted in a strange, jerking waddle. His free hand swept up to the back of his neck and he let out a strangled groan.

" Steve, I think you might be overreacting a little bit here-"

"Overreacting?!" Steve practically screamed,

" OVERREACTING?! You just got swallowed by a GIANT SLIME MONSTER THAT YOU CREATED! THIS IS YOUR MESS, TONY, AND YOU TREATED IT LIKE A PUBLICITY STUNT!" He stormed back over to Tony and fisted his blackened shirt, eyes narrowed, and lifted him until their noses were a hair-breadths apart. Steve could feel Tony's feet scrabbling for the ground in the muck like a coat dangling on a hook, could feel the other man's breath as he stared back at Steve wide eyed. It was then that Steve hissed, with a venom that could burn through a thousand doombots, "You are nothing without your suit, except a short scientist with an attitude problem."

He dropped Tony onto his feet with a derisive flick of the wrist and walked away. Steve could practically feel Tony's eyes on the back of his head and walked faster, passing the medical team that was rushing forward to help like a gaggle of white geese after their children. Steve brushed them away impatiently.

"Go help Tony, he needs help, not me, go, please, I'm fine."

He would not let Tony see the way his hands were shaking, couldn't let him see the sheer panic that had been bubbling like a traitorous whisper in his eyes when he thought of losing Tony. Wouldn't let him see the way he leant against a brick wall as soon as he was out of sight, head in his hands and taking sharp breaths to steady himself as the adrenaline and something else left his system. He couldn't let Tony see these things, because Tony was too smart for his own good, too perceptive, and Tony would put together the pieces that Steve himself was only just putting together now.

He couldn't let Tony know.

*** A.N. Sorry for a late update! Hopefully I will write faster this week. Let me know what you all think of the story so far, I'm super dooper interested! Love all of my darling commenters!****