Loved and Lost
“Shit,” Tony swore under his breath as he dropped the screwdriver again. It was the middle of the night and the inventor was down in his personal workshop, trying and failing to figure out why he’d woken in a cold sweat. He’d figured that some tinkering would settle his mind again but he could barely hold the tools and his whole body was shaking. Frustrated, he shoved everything off the worktable, sending it crashing to the floor. Not that it would wake anyone up; the workshop was soundproof and floors away from everyone else. Tony put his head in his hands and closed his eyes, trying to take a deep breath. When he opened them a moment later it was to be met with darkness, which terrified him.
The inventor scrambled to his feet, clutching at his chest. The reactor was still there, yes, but it was off. How was it off? It wasn’t supposed to turn off! Weakly Tony slumped to the floor, his mind too tired and panicked to do anything more than rip off his shirt and just hit the dammed thing. By some miracle it worked, and he got his breath back. For a moment he just sat there, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Dragging himself up, Tony turned at the sound of footsteps on the staircase, quickly grabbing an extra shirt to pull on over his sweaty chest.
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