Chapter 46: Tony: Just End It Already
Half an hour later.
Stane walked out of the research facility, face flushed.
Not from embarrassment but pure rage.
He looked up at the Stark Industries sign above the entrance. Something cold moved behind his eyes.
The plan had been exposed. Which meant there was no longer any reason to keep hiding.
He was not going to sit in place and wait for the police to come for him.
He got into his car and had it pointed at Tony Stark's mansion before the door was fully closed.
So the researchers couldn't miniaturize the reactor. Fine.
There was a perfectly good one already built. He knew exactly where it was.
All he had to do was take it.
The sky was getting dark.
Across the city, Tony stepped out of the workshop feeling better than he had in days. Whatever weight had been on him earlier had shifted into something that felt more like momentum.
It lasted about as long as it took his phone to ring.
He pulled it out and looked at the screen. Pepper.
He was still reading the name when the sound hit him.
It went through both ears and directly into the center of his skull, a sustained, high-frequency tone that had no business existing in a domestic setting. Tony's legs decided the situation was over without consulting the rest of him. He went down into the sofa, blood running from both ears, his face showing the kind of vein map that indicated something was seriously wrong inside.
Stane stepped out from behind the sofa with the device in his hand, expression comfortable and unhurried.
"Breathe. Relax." He tilted the device appreciatively. "You remember this? The government wouldn't approve it for production, which I always thought was shortsighted. The applications for something that induces temporary paralysis are really quite broad."
He took Tony's face in one hand and held it, examining him with the detached interest of a collector appraising something valuable.
"When I arranged to have you killed, I hesitated. I was worried about destroying something irreplaceable." A pause. "But fate kept you alive. And here you are. The last golden egg, delivered right on schedule."
He picked up the extraction tool from the side table.
Tony could not speak. He could not move. He watched Stane work with nothing available to him but his eyes, which he used to communicate everything he was currently feeling about the situation.
The arc reactor came free.
The moment it separated, the color in Tony's face began its rapid departure.
Stane held the reactor up and looked at it for a moment.
"This really is beautiful." He turned it once in the light. "It'll be your last contribution."
His gaze moved back to Tony.
"What disappoints me is that you had to involve Pepper. That wasn't necessary." His voice carried something that might have been genuine regret if the circumstances had been entirely different. "I wasn't planning to touch her. But that's changed now."
He tucked the reactor under his arm and walked out.
Tony lay where he had been left.
With the reactor gone, his chest was counting down. He could feel the number getting smaller.
Move. You need to move.
Pepper. Rhodey. Yinsen.
Matthew.
Anyone. Please.
He screamed all of this inside a body that was producing no output whatsoever, in a villa that was completely empty.
After a while, the paralysis began to release. The edges first, then slowly working inward.
Tony snapped the black card and started moving. Not walking. Something significantly less coordinated than walking, aimed toward the workshop below.
Pepper had put the original arc reactor down there. He remembered that. He just had to get there.
He moved the way a certain golden-haired vampire from that manga moved across the floor, dragging himself toward something with single-minded desperation and nothing left in the tank, screaming internally about stopping time.
Finally.
After what felt like a significantly longer journey than the physical distance warranted, he arrived.
And then he lay face down on the floor and did not move.
Just end it. Come on. Whenever you're ready.
His life did the thing lives do at moments like this: played back highlights from the beginning, moving toward the present with what felt like editorial intent.
Then a footstep.
One footstep. Clear and unhurried.
Tony used the last available reserve of everything he had to lift his head.
Standing there, looking down at him with an expression of mild professional assessment, was Matthew Lawrence.
Tony's eyes did the thing eyes do when hope arrives unexpectedly.
Matthew looked at him for a moment.
"Well well well." His tone was genuinely delighted. "If it isn't the Hotshot himself. Few days and you've really hit rock bottom, haven't you."
Tony, who could not speak, expressed his feelings about this with his eyes.
Matthew was unmoved. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced his phone. He crouched down beside Tony, arranged his fingers into a peace sign, held the phone out at arm's length, and looked at the camera.
"Cheese."
Click.
[Blackmail material acquired.]
Only after completing this task did Matthew stop stalling. He picked up the glass case holding the original arc reactor, closed his hand around it, and applied pressure.
The case came apart.
He brushed off the remaining glass, reached in without ceremony, and connected the reactor.
The moment the connection closed, the color came back into Tony's face at a visible rate.
Tony took a breath that had more in it than just air.
The first thing he said when he was capable of saying things: "A million dollars. Delete that photo."
"I don't need a million dollars."
"Two million."
"It's not about the amount."
"Ten million. Delete it."
Matthew considered this.
"Fifteen."
Tony's jaw tightened. "Done. After I handle this situation, you get fifteen million and the photo goes."
"After you handle it, I'll delete it." Matthew shrugged.
Tony's mouth twitched. But Pepper was in danger and the clock was already running, and there were more important things to deal with than the photo. He was on his feet and moving toward the suit before the conversation was fully finished.
"Hey, Tony." Matthew called after him. "You need any help out there? Separate fee, obviously."
Tony glanced down at the reactor in his chest. A brief pause.
"No. Bullets don't know who their friends are. I'd rather not have you in the line of fire."
He was already in the suit. He was already through the roof and gone before the sentence finished echoing.
Matthew stood in the workshop and looked at the hole in the ceiling.
"Bullets don't know who their friends are." He said it quietly to the empty room. "You just don't want to pay."
He turned and looked at the War Machine arm piece sitting unfinished on the workbench. He reached out and closed his hand around the armor plating.
A sound of metal under stress. Five finger-shaped impressions appeared where his grip had been.
He examined the result.
"Defense is average." He set the piece back down. "But the overall specs are something else. That flight system especially." He thought about it. "I'll have to get a couple of units off Tony once this is all settled."
He bent his legs and jumped out through the same hole Tony had made, and the night took him.
Three minutes later, Colonel Rhodes came running into the workshop.
"Tony? Tony! Where are you?"
He searched. Nothing.
A thought arrived that he very much did not want to be having.
Rhodes stood in the empty workshop, and something in his expression gave way. A tear made its way down his face.
"I'm sorry, Tony." His voice was unsteady. "Didn't think you'd go and die on me again. You just got back."
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