Battlefield ｡ Tony Stark

51 - BURN THIS HOUSE DOWN

Here's a little holiday greeting I've been wanting to send to the Mandarin. I just didn't know how to phrase it until now. My name is Tony Stark and I'm not afraid of you. I know you're a coward, so I've decided that you just died, pal. I'm gonna come get the body. There's no politics here; it's just good old-fashioned revenge. There's no Pentagon; it's just you and me. And on the off-chance you're a man, here's my home address: 10880, Malibu Port, 90265. I'll leave the door unlocked.

Tony Stark's voice drummed through the mostly silent hospital room, the television blaring with news coverage about his little warning to the Mandarin. My heart sunk hearing his words, a clear threat to come find him, to come test the waters of his power. It was brave to send a bold warning to somebody wanting to destroy America, but it was also incredibly stupid. 

He was hurting. He was trying to come to terms with seeing his son lying still in a hospital bed, eyes closed and bandages covering his body from the burns that now would turn to scars. It was terrifying to know he had almost lost his son, but also his friend in one foul swoop. I understood that pain, it still radiated through my own body, but I was not about to go throw stones in a glass house. Not when my son was still unconscious. 

"You should really get some sleep."

Lucy Hammer stood in the doorway, her eyes filled with great sorrow. She had caught the first flight out from New York when I had called her in fits of sobs. I had not asked her to come, not directly, but she could hear it in my voice, even hundreds of miles away. I needed her right now. 

With her voice, her quiet and loving voice, my eyes filled with more tears. Lucy stormed into the room, her arms circling around my shoulders to hold me tightly. When a long moment had passed, the only sounds my cries and the beeping from varies machines, Lucy finally took a seat across from Samuel. Her hand fell upon his palm and Lucy stroked it in a calming way. His eyes fluttered with movement but he didn't wake up. 

"The doctors said he'll wake up in his own time," I started, watching Sam's chest rise and fall. "It's just a huge waiting game now." Half his body was covered in burns now, the fire from the explosion licking at his flesh until there was almost nothing left. He had been in surgery for nearly five hours but unfortunately, not even the best plastic surgeons could make him whole again. 

Lucy rested back in her seat, hands folded over her lap now. Her eyes watched the heart monitor with a steady gaze. "He's a strong kid, don't worry." Her attempt at trying to make me feel better was not missed. "Where's Tony?"

"I sent him home," I told her weakly. "He was just pacing and pacing and it was driving me insane. He's more use at home trying to figure out what the hell happened and what to do next."

My best friend sighed loudly, "Right. At the mansion he just put a target on."

"You saw that, huh?"

Lucy sifted a laugh. "The entire world saw his little threat to a terrorist."

It was my turn to heave out a deep sigh, one I hadn't realised I had been holding in for so long. My gaze turned to the windows, watching the sunlight pour through the curtains. I had been cooped up in this room for so many hours already. My hair was greasy, my makeup was partly ruined from all the crying. All I wanted was a shower and for Samuel to open his eyes and tell me a stupid joke about some television show he was currently watching. But more than anything, I just wanted everything to be normal again. 

"Thank you for coming, Lu." I said at last.

Lucy smiled. "That's what family is for." 

"I really appreciate it," I replied. "I know you've got a whole life in New York and I'm sure Aaron wasn't very thrilled about you up and leaving in the middle of the night--"