#armorprotech

     “T-Tony  ? I swear, I never wanted to - I tried stopping him, but - “

angst & post-angst sentences.   || @armorprotech || accepting 

   and  for  the  past  two  years,  it  has  been. 

    it’s  the  second  fireman’s  ball  she’s  attended  in  the  stead  of  the  r&d  department,  one  of  the  few  times  of  the  year  she  has to  interact  with  the  sentient  shitstain  that  calls  itself  obadiah.     it’s  the  first,  however,  that  she  runs  into  him.

  he’s  a  ghost  of  the  past,  she  reminds  herself,  even  if  she  hears  his  voice  next  to  her  at  the  bar,  her  grip  on  her  whiskey  tightening  like  her  throat,  her  lungs,  her  chest.  (  it’s  only  her  first  glass,  but  goddamnit,  she  wishes  that  it  wasn’t. )

   a  dearest  memory  and  her worst  nightmare,  sitting  right  next  to  her.  

   (  if  that  weren’t  awkward  enough,  they  accidentally  made  eye  contact.  )

       still,  she  doesn’t  back  down ---  regal  as  ever,  leveling  an  even  stare  directly  at  him  with  no  sign  of  backing  down.  

           “  good  evening,  mister  stark.  “   she  doesn’t  offer  much  more  than  that,  going  back  to  her  drink  in  one  hand,  and  her  heels  dangling  precariously  from  the  other.  

              ---- HERE SLEEP.

                                             SLEEP.  wait... a.... moment.... 

                             No, no,no, no, no,  NO  HE CAN’T SLEEP. 

          But did he really need SLEEP? What was his head trying to do? He couldn’t do it -- he made promises he’ll be back.  He needed to stay away LONGER. he needed to keep AWAKE LONGER. he couldn’t just start to pass out. He knew it was going to end this way, but he needed to wait LONGER -- he couldn’t go black, not yet. 

 His thoughts where about to KILL HIM. He wanted to be back home, in his lab, his the arms of PEPPER.  He wanted to feel safe again. WHY MUST this happen to him? Why must -- anything like this happen to HIM of all people.

He knew, all to well he was a fuck up. People really did hate him. God hated him. Death loved him. But yet, something kept making him want to keep going. Was it to make everyone around him, hate him more?

                                                                              He was alone.

                                                                 ALONE. 

                                                                   so very alone. 

 But yet, his mind kept telling him to close his eyes to SLEEP. Space was lonely. But yet, he needed to keep his mind off of everything else. MAYBE just MAYBE the light will shine on him before the air runs out. its been four days since he ate anything, his body was slowly dying from it -- and the air was slowly starting to get thicker -- but yet, but --- yet. He was still trying to make throw it. 

Being  IRON MAN came with it’s perks -- he was able to make things out of nothing, but yet, he was in a small space ship and knew his time was coming to the end. But there was a wish to himself --- if he did make it home, there was so many things he wanted to do. Get a dog, finally marry the woman of his dreams, have a family --- say he was sorry to steve. Do things to make everything right once again.  He didn’t want to fight anymore, but yet, he knew --- just knew, this might be the end for him. taking in a deep breath, he kept his eyes open --- just for a little bit longer. 

                                 “ I can’t sleep, if I drift --- who will protect them?”