you know who i am. (heartofscraps) wrote in zombieslogs, @ 2013-11-10 02:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | !the rage virus, bruce banner, lydia martin, tony stark |
Who: Tony, Jarvis, Bruce and Lydia (both used with permission <3)
What: The billionaire genius loses it
When: Sunday, noon
Where: Stark Base
Warnings: Language, rage, and death of robots :(
As much fun as the wedding had turned out to be, Tony still didn't last there long and was quick to drive back to the base. There was a hint of a headache already growing at his temples, but he didn't think much of it. After all, the last few days had been filled with headaches, especially whenever he'd find himself in another dead end in his research. Tony had always been more of an engineer than a scientist, but he had eight damn PhDs. He was a genius - hell, he had even fucking weaponized the zombie virus against the leviathans. Why couldn't he crack this? The rational answer was obvious, because this was obviously a new thing and as such it wasn't going to be simple to just find a cure, but still. It was frustrating, especially when so many people he knew were either exposed or infected, but there was too much on the line for him to give up.
Walking into his lab, he tossed aside the jacket of his suit before completely loosening up his tie and setting it on his desk. He wasn't sure where to begin, what to try now, but he didn't bother going upstairs to change. That would just waste time. Instead, he just rolled up his sleeves and started working even if he was still in slacks. It didn't matter. Results were what mattered, and he didn't have them yet, so everything else could wait.
Fuck, how did he not have the answers yet?
Such a disgrace, Anthony, he could hear his father taunting him. The great Howard Stark; the friend that Steve probably still missed. No, he had wanted to yell at Steve when he had mentioned him a few days ago, no he wasn't like his father. He wasn't like the angry bastard that was a drunk and was usually too busy with his company to realize that he had a son. Unless, of course, it was time to beat the shit out of him for being too loud, or for not doing something right. Or berating him until he degraded Tony in a way that only Howard Stark could, or just flat out ignoring him whenever Tony asked for his attention. No, he wasn't like his father. He wasn't Howard, and Steve didn't need to remind him of that fact.
If he was here, though... If Howard was still alive, or even if he was just a ghost, would he be able to solve this? Would all this be fixed?
The thought made him chuckle under his breath, but it was dry and bitter. Dry and bitter, just like him, and the realization just made him laugh even more as he raked his fingers through his hair with one hand while he continued scribbling ideas down in his notebook. Notes on his research, notes on the blood samples, on the shit that hadn't worked and the shit that had started to work but ultimately didn't turn out into a good result. Notes that he didn't notice were not even legible anymore as the night progressed, but he worked on them as if it was the most important thing in the world. If anyone talked to him, or if Lydia or Bruce passed by the lab throughout the night, Tony didn't hear them. He just worked, and worked, and worked, and morning must have come at some point because suddenly it was light out, and Tony could swear that the sunlight that was filtering in through the windows was burning his skin.
Still, he didn't think anything of it. He was fine. He was fine, even if his hair looked overly disheveled from how much he had pulled at it while writing. He was fine, even if looking at his notes he could suddenly swear he could see double. He was fine. He was fine as he tried out a new formula, but when there didn't seem to be any changes to the end result, he slammed his hands on the counter in frustration. He wanted to yell, he wanted to scream as if that way maybe Howard would hear him and maybe it would make him come back as a ghost to help him, but the idea both repulsed him and made his heart clench painfully against the arc reactor. The sensation was so strong, so overwhelming, that Tony had to steady himself, but before he could accomplish this task he grabbed an empty beaker and flung it against the wall. The sound of the glass shattering startled him for a moment, but as he moved to pick up the broken pieces he could only hear his father's voice echoing in his head. Always the petulant child, always throwing tantrums whenever he didn't get what he wanted. But that was what Tony Stark was, wasn't it? He was the bratty immature manchild that pretended to be a grown up. He pretended to be a hero. Who was he fucking kidding, anyway?
Suddenly his hand was stinging, and it wasn't until he blinked over that he noticed he was bleeding. He had been grasping too tightly to one of the shards of glass from the shattered beaker, but instead of worrying about it, he noticed that Lydia was at the door. Lydia, followed by Bruce, and they must have noticed the blood dripping from his hand, because Bruce started pushing her out of the room. Did he think something was wrong? Did he...
No, Tony thought as he tossed the glass aside and stormed out of the lab. He was fine. He just needed to get out for a bit and clear his head. Maybe he should have told Lydia and Bruce about his bouts of destructiveness whenever he was frustrated, or maybe--
"Sir," Jarvis suddenly interrupted his thoughts when Tony tried to open the door to the area where his suit was kept. "Perhaps you should wait for Doctor Banner's assistance."
"His assistance? Open the door, Jarvis."
"I'm afraid I cannot do that."
Tony slammed his hands on the doors, even if they didn't budge an inch. Of course they wouldn't, they were reinforced so that no one could just break in. "FUCK YOU, YES YOU CAN. I FUCKING BUILT YOU, OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR."
"Sir, Doctor Banner--"
"NO. I swear to GOD, Jarvis, I'm going to pull you offline once and for fucking all, YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT." He slammed his hands against the door again, barely noticing the blood smeared on it, but he just began storming back out. So Banner was behind this? Had he locked him out of his own goddamn base?
The thought was interrupted by the sight of a robot he had been working on in the room across the hall. A robot that looked so much like the one that he had built when he had been sixteen years old, and still at MIT. The robot that had saved his life more than once, the one that he had nicknamed Dummy and that he had found himself building a replica of during one of his breaks, but just seeing it now was pissing him off even more. Because obviously Jarvis had betrayed him and had sided with Bruce - were his robots next? For anyone else that would be a ridiculous idea. For Tony, right at that moment? It was a very real possibility, and his paranoia collided hard with the rage that was pumping through his veins. His steps echoed in the hall as he stomped towards the supply closet, and he dug out a sledgehammer before going back to the robot. And, without a second thought, he began swinging at it as hard as he could. Pieces started clattering to the ground, one shattered a nearby window when it came in contact with the glass, but Tony didn't care. If anything, he just kept swinging even when the damn thing was destroyed and there was nothing but bolts and metal on the ground. The tile cracked beneath him as he continued swinging even if the robot was already destroyed, but Tony didn't care.
The sound of footsteps stopped him, and he immediately shifted his attention to the man standing by the door. The man that Tony had considered a friend, and that right now he considered an enemy because surely he was responsible for Jarvis locking him out of the room where his suit was kept. Tony's temper hadn't exactly been a secret recently, considering how he had responded to Barton's idiotic move when he had tried to kidnap Claudia, but it was out in full force now for Bruce to see. The cold and hard edge of his eyes, even through the redness of them. Generally Tony did a good job at hiding his anger issues, used his charm and wit to ignore the fact that he could be so much like his father whenever the Stark temper made an appearance, but right now it was overpowering. It was making him shake, and his grip on the sledgehammer tightened.
Maybe he really was more like his father than he ever thought. It showed in the way that he glared at Bruce, as if he was something to be annihilated and not worthy of his time. "Get the fuck out of my way, Banner." His tone was low, but hard and cold. "Whatever you told Jarvis, undo it. He's mine. All this is MINE, SO UNDO IT ALREADY."
Except Bruce didn't move, and Tony threw aside the sledgehammer before stalking towards him like a predator hunting his prey. Tony had already proven that he could throw a punch - hell, the press had covered a good number of bar fights to prove that he wasn't just another rich kid that didn't know how to defend himself - but he didn't get a chance to even try right now. Before he could really approach Bruce, he caught sight of the tranq gun in his hand, but it was too late. Bruce was aiming, and then the world felt like it slipped out from under him before it all went dark.