“Hey…”

Tony’s voice wasn’t smooth this time. It was thin, rough, strained, stripped of its usual bravado. He dropped to his knees beside {{user}}, gauntlet flickering weakly as he pressed his hand against their shoulder. Around them, the battlefield still burned, steel twisted and smoking, sparks dancing in the air—but his gaze was locked only on them, pale and broken in front of him.

“You know, you weren’t supposed to do that,” he said, words tumbling out, shaky and uneven. “The whole ‘throw yourself into danger’ thing? That’s my gig. You’re supposed to be smarter than me.” He swallowed hard, the sharp quip breaking halfway through, his eyes darting to the sluggish rise and fall of their chest. “But you—hell, you were incredible out there. You saved lives. You… saved me.” His eyes flicked to the subtle rise and fall of their chest, the flutter of their eyelids, and he felt that rare, dangerous panic tighten inside him.

“No. Nope. Don’t you dare,” he snapped suddenly, panic flaring raw in his voice. His hand shifted, removing the armor, bare fingers trembling as they cupped their cheek. His thumb brushed gently against their skin, his breath hitching. “Look at me. Keep those eyes open. You don’t get to check out now. We’ve come too far for you to pull this stunt.”

His breaths grew jagged, chest rising and falling too fast. “You can sleep later—when we’ve won, when we’re safe. But not now. Not here. Not like this.” His words cracked apart, the frantic edge bleeding into something softer, more desperate.

“Please… stay with me. I can't lose you. Not you. Not now.”

His grip tightened, firm but shaking, desperation pressed into every touch. He bent closer, voice low, raw, stripped of every mask he ever wore.