Hello! Wow I would like to apologize, I obviously over estimated how much free time I have to write... hopefully I will be able to be more regular now. Here is a Tony Stark one shot! I will confess that I find him one of the harder characters to work with so this is kind of me testing it out... there will be more of him for sure :)
Again, I don't own the Avengers.
"Sir? I just wanted to ask… are you planning on walking in circles all day long?"
Tony came up short as the words registered in his head. He found himself standing before one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at Manhattan. He had one hand pressed against the glass, as if he were in a prison longing to get out.
"Should I cancel your meeting with the director?"
"No it's fine," Tony said quickly, dismissively waving a hand. "I'm good. Just thinking.
"Sir, the last three days you have gotten a total of 10.695 hours of sleep."
"That, I know." Tony wandered up to one of his computers, tapping the screen and pulling up his latest suit prototype. The lines seemed to rush toward him, rippling in and out of focus.
"Sir." Jarvis' voice carried what had to be the most polite undercurrent of irritation.
"I need an espresso," Tony muttered, exiting out of the window. "Or three."
Across the room, his espresso machine flickered to life as it responded to his request.
Then suddenly its lights dimmed and went out.
Tony frowned.
"Did you just power down my espresso machine?"
"I highly suggest you try sleeping as an alternate to espresso, sir."
"You know," Tony walked to the coffee table, examining his empty coffee mug. "When I gave you access to the house appliances, this is not how I wanted you to use them."
"I am simply trying to be helpful, sir, as I was programmed to be."
"Hilarious," Tony muttered.
The mug slipped from his shaky hand and fell to the ground, shattering.
"Great," Tony sighed. As he shoved the shards out of the way with his shoe, one of them caught on a page of newspaper that had been shoved beneath the table long ago. Easing himself down, Tony pulled at the page, blinking as dust floated into his eyes.
The Defenders of Manhattan: Heroes, or the Ones to Blame?
On the front cover was a photo of New York with pillars of smoke wafting toward the sky and aliens clinging to buildings.
Tony felt like he'd been struck with a mean right hook. His head was pounding. The words blurred and the ink began to spread. It seeped through the entire page, turning it into a black cavern in his hands. A black portal, with lights, and a flickering network of Chitauri.
A distant knock on the door drew Tony back to reality.
"Come in!" he managed, pinching the bridge of his nose and dropping the paper to the floor before he could look at it again.
"Tony?" Rhodey's voice echoed through the room.
"Over here," Tony responded, dropping onto the couch. "Just, you know, making a mess of things."
Rhodey walked over, and abruptly froze at the sight of Tony.
Tony glanced down at his sweatshirt and jeans.
"Do I actually look that bad?" he frowned.
"I'd say you've looked worse," Rhodey started. "But that would be a lie. Maybe with the exception being the battle of New York."
Tony grunted as he said the words, feeling his head recoil with a fresh headache.
"I was going to ask if you'd finished the latest mark, but by the looks of things I'm guessing the answer is no," Rhodey said dryly, looking around the cluttered room.
"Still working," Tony responded absently, going back to picking up shards of porcelain off the floor. "Hit a few speed bumps."
"When was the last time you slept?" Rhodey frowned.
"Don't you dare go Jarvis on me," Tony threatened quickly, wagging a broken mug handle in his friend's face.
"Go Jarvis?" Rhodey's eyebrows popped up.
"He's been hounding me about sleeping all day," Tony complained.
"Yeah? Well, good job Jarvis. At least one person in this room is sane."
"Thank you, sir."
"Hey," Tony looked up. "I'm sir. He's Rhodes."
"My apologies. Thank you, Rhodes."
There was a small smirk on Rhodey's face as he shook his head in disbelief.
"You're a wreck, Tony."
"Really?" Tony held out his arms. "I thought I was a diva."
"We missed you at the statue dedication," Rhodey added cooly, observing Tony's reaction.
"Yeah, statues… not really my thing," Tony shrugged, trudging over to the garbage can.
"Nothing related to the Battle of New York seems to be your thing these days. You've missed every commemorative this week."
Tony grimaced at the floor.
"Your point being?"
"You're messed up, Tony."
"I thought we'd already established that," Tony responded cooly.
"I'm talking PTSD messed up, man."
Tony side eyed his friend.
"How would you know anything about that?" he asked, maybe a bit too viciously.
"I worked in the army, you know," Rhodey responded unfazed. "You don't fly through a space portal, prepared to give your life for your city, and walk away unaffected."
Tony's hands snapped the piece of mug he was holding in two.
"I would really appreciate it if you stopped talking about that," Tony responded, chucking the pieces into the trash. He shoved his hands in his pockets before Rhodey could see them shake.
"I'll stop talking about it when you start talking to someone else," Rhodey told him firmly.
"Someone else?"
"A therapist. A friend even. Just someone."
Tony snorted.
"You know Wilson runs therapy sessions-"
"No." Tony interrupted. "I am not going to Wilson's therapy group."
"Why not?" Rhodey challenged. "Iron Man is too big and tough to admit he has problems?"
"No," Tony said. "Because… I can handle this."
Rhodey pursed his lips, looking around the room.
"Yeah," he said. "Obviously."
Rubbing his forehead, Tony sighed.
"Rhodes-" he started.
"No, no," Rhodey interrupted, backing away with his hands up. "I'll just let the big boy 'handle it'." He made air quotes. "And when that doesn't work for you, maybe just consider the fact that I do sometimes know what I'm talking about."
Tony watched silently as his friend escorted himself out. Looking out the window, he could just barely see the new commemorative statue put up in the honor of the Avengers down the street. A faint ache pulsed in the back of his head.
"Shall I cancel that meeting, sir?"
Tony sighed heavily.
"Yeah. I'm going to go sleep." Tony paused as he headed toward his room. "What time is that therapy thing?"
"Seven to eight tonight, sir. Shall I tell Mr. Wilson to expect you?"
"Of course not," Tony said quickly. Then he added, "Just set my alarm for six thirty."
There was a slight pause.
"Of course, sir."
"There's no need to be so smug," Tony muttered resentfully as he left the room, shutting the door forcefully just to prove to the artificial intelligence that he was still irritated. Even if he was maybe just a bit thankful.
I hope you liked it! If you did please let me know :))) I feel like this one maybe didn't get as deep as it could have so there will definitely be follow ups.