Chapter Text
Approximately 1000 June 27 th , 2016
Cold.
Tony knew he was broken, probably beyond repair. If he stayed in this icy hell, death would be inevitable. As the adrenaline from the fight left his body, the anger he felt at the lies that were told to his face burned inside him.
Fire.
Every inhale rasped over the back of his throat and stretched its cold fingers down into his lungs. It covered the sounds of Rogers and Barnes moving further away down the corridors until there was nothing but silence.
And crushing weight.
Every exhale felt like the weight of the world sitting on his chest. Or maybe Mjolnir. What pissed him off further was the sound of the Quinjet circling overhead before fading into the distance. Tony felt surprised by that he probably shouldn’t have. Rogers not having the forethought on Tony’s situation and taking the only viable transport out of this godforsaken frozen hell. Just typical. Rolling his eyes, he can only hope they took Zemo with them because if he was still here then he would tear him limb from limb.
But for the moment he just had to stay warm. Stay breathing.
He was sure that he was bleeding internally, probably externally. Although did that count as internally since it was inside the suit? You’re drifting. FOCUS!
The casing ring broken away and down into the armor coming away from the chest chassis. I should make that into a single moulded piece next time. The arc reactor’s solid Starkium core had broken the backing plate away from the casing and was now pushed hard into his sternum, caving it in. There was sure to be some absolutely spectacular bruising, along with broken ribs and punctured lungs since he couldn’t breathe without fiery hot pokers stabbing over the front of his chest and sending painful electrical impulses into his sluggish brain. Concussion? Sure why not. That would also explain why his head felt like it was going to explode. Why his eyes felt like rolling into the back of his skull and slight tinny echo of ringing in his ears.
Damn Rogers.
And damn Bucky Barnes
Don't think about him.
Or that.
Not yet.
Just stay warm. Stay breathing.
Friday will send help, be patient.
Man Down Protocol. He was never going to be stranded again. The first time he lucked out, Harley had been there to help. And then, when he was put in danger, Tony couldn't hightail it out of there fast enough. He felt ashamed and guilty as fuck for bringing his superpowered enemies into an innocent kid's life.
He didn't want to rely on anyone to help him, least of all a kid. It was hard enough for Tony to allow Rhodey or Pepper to help, how many times did they have to wear him down to even know he needed help? They would only end up in danger or hurt. He couldn’t allow that. So, with the suit showing critical damage and loss of power imminent a short burst of power is diverted to an emergency beacon, signalling to Friday, she would activate and guide a rescue suit to his last known coordinates.
He just had to stay warm. Stay breathing.
Was it getting colder? It felt colder.
Stay warm. Stay breathing.
Now that the adrenaline from the fight was wearing off finding a position where the weight on his chest was bearable was difficult, struggling upright was an issue, laying on his back or side was also an issue. With panic building from the metal digging into his chest Tony fought the urge to rip off the armour, right hand at his neck gripping the edge tightly like it might ease some of the pressure. The feeling of being trapped and crushed inside the suit had never occurred to him before but damn it was occurring to him now. It was a shell, a shield; it had always protected him from the harsh world, but now it felt like a coffin. Shifting on his knees he reached for the faceplate. Fumbling awkwardly over the icy concrete, his left arm felt weak and it seized painfully when he stretched it out. Finally, he grasped the torn edge of the faceplate, made even more difficult as the fingers of the suit weren’t made to have fine dexterity or much grip. The pain was too much so he allowed himself to tip backwards, knocking the breath out of him. That was a mistake though as the pain shooting through his chest and down his arm now made every tight breath a struggle.
I’m going to die here.
Moving carefully, he swapped the remains of the helmet to his right hand, lifting it over his head he took a moment to focus on the damage. Damn. No blinking light, the wires were severed, they appeared to be crushed and torn. The force of the blows to the head not only rattled Tony’s brain inside his skull but left significant damage to the whole faceplate, the metal had shattered under the force of the vibranium shield. Dropping his arm, suddenly too exhausted to hold it up, Tony winced as a sharp spike of pain rolled over him. Not good. The pain spiked again, blacking the edges of his vision. This is it now. Then the cold followed, sweeping over his body, stealing the last of the little breath he had.
I don’t want to die! Please! I don’t want to die!
Desperation made his hands shake as they curled around the left forearm of the wrecked suit. Using the last flickers of life from the damaged arc reactor he triggered the gauntlet's emergency release. His vision faded in and out now, breath hiccuping in vain to draw oxygen into his ruined chest as he worked the gauntlet free from his forearm with panicky fingers. Nausea made his stomach churn and bile rise in his throat. Fighting a losing battle for control of his body he worked the plate that lay on the inside of the wrist free from the exoskeleton, inside lay his only salvation, a fingerprint reader that would inject a small vial of modified Extremis directly into his bloodstream. Short, sharp panting and metal scratching on metal filled the silence but Tony could only hear roaring in his ears. With a final grunt of exertion and no thought for the future Tony felt for the scanner under his finger and with a beep his life changed forever.