Iron Man staggered backward, eyes wide with shock and knees frail with prostration, as he felt the past years of his life flash before his eyes. This was it? How could this happen? Was it happening? Never before had he experienced this sense of betrayal, this straining a pain in his chest, nor this sort of disbelief. They had recruited you, taken you in, cared for you in the sense a family would, and now as the world was on fire, it surfaced all it ever was, was a mission. A mission. Now that ought to make Tony all kinds of mad, you were like a daughter to him, but he could not help but long the rationale.
“I should’ve known,” he breathed. “The bad guys always do come with the pretty faces.”
“It’s a mission, Tony. You know how those work.”
“But 9 years. You can’t—” he was stumbling over his own words as he staggered backward. To the best of his recollection, he tried remembering a time he had been more frightened but failed miserably. How could this happen? How could you do this? “We took you in! We cared for you, we loved you. Y/N! You can’t tell me, all this time, you were not part of this family!”
You tsked down at him, brushing your finger delicately over the blade of the knife. This morning you had sharpened your weapon, wishing for this to run smoothly as those nights you had fantasized of draining his life. “I know you did, Tony. And I will be forever thankful for that, truly. But I’m dedicated. You know that. And I have a mission.”
Tentatively, Tony shook his head, unable—refusing to believe your words. This had to be a nightmare. Nothing but a bad dream, but as a pinch would have awoken him, one would too be led to think the swiftness of a blade would, but even as he felt the touch of your edge, he was wide awake.
Tony did not want to die. Not now, not here, not at your hand. He had seen his fate; this was not it. All he in his daze could manage was the incomplete plan to stall you.
“Why wait all this time? If you only ever wanted me dead, you could have snapped my neck, on multiple occasions of that. Right? Shot me in my sleep, hell—you could have poisoned me! Why would you wait till now?” Just as his life at long last had returned to somewhat stable.
You could not help but grin. He was so scared. He feared death and you chuckled at the thought for he had never seen it appear in the shape of his protégé. Surely, you would have a bad taste in your mouth once he was dead at your feet, and so you concluded it only to be fair for him to be burdened an explanation.
“My employer did not approve of my methods, nor taking this long, but they’re satisfied as long as I get the job done. And you’re right, I took longer than I had originally planned, but when one is this invested in work, it is inevitable to not become emotionally invested, personal. I never wanted to do this brutally, I’m not a monster. It was meant to run smoothly, look like an accident, but truth be told, as I came to know you, I hesitated. Now that was very unprofessional of me and, again, my employer was not very happy. I was just—oh! And—and you’re right, as a matter of fact, I was just gonna slip you somethin’ to drink and let you doze off, like Sleeping Beauty, remember her? Yeah,” hummed you with a malevolent smile curving the corner of your lip. “But then you just had to go and screw it up, didn’t you?”
You knew he was not all that bad. He did his best, wanted to do good for others. Only his methods were not always ethically correct, but that was his human error. He could not make up for being born into a failing race.
His breath hitched in his throat at you drove the blade through his skin, eyes widening and you, too, were nonplussed by your action. After all, after all this time, you had hoped for another ending. But alas, while this was no fairytale, there only was room for the heroes and the villains.
You lifted your hand to caress his stubbled, tear-stained cheek as he slid down the wall you caught him on. “Try not taking too deep breaths, Tony. It will hurt more. You just rest well, you deserve it. Know that.”
