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Language:
English
Series:
Part 8 of Painsgiving - November 2018
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Published:
2019-01-23
Words:
402
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
8
Kudos:
253
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On the Clock

Summary:

Tony is diffusing a bomb. He really, really doesn't need any distractions.

Notes:

Day 8: "How about we stop talking?"

Work Text:

“Okay, so, here’s a crazy idea,” Tony grit out past clenched teeth. “How about we stop talking and let the guy defusing a bomb concentrate, huh?”

Not that he could exactly blame the rest of the team. They were getting civilians out of the building while he dealt with the bomb and there was a certain amount of communication that was needed, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still a distraction. He would mute the coms if that didn’t come with its own plethora of risks. If things went south, he probably wouldn’t get the chance to swap things back on before giving them the warning.

“We’ve almost got everyone clear,” Steve’s reassuring voice came through. “How are things looking on your end?”

Tony was sweating inside the suit, only his hands exposed so that he could work with the delicate wiring of the bomb in front of him. His heart pounded from the stress. He was so much better at taking on a supervillain or evil robot army. He’d take an alien invasion over this any day.

“I think I’ve got the wiring mostly figured out,” he updated Cap. “Whoever made this didn’t want to make is easy, though. I’m comparing it against other home-made bomb designs, but it’ll blow if I don’t take it apart in exactly the right order. I’ve already spotted three separate redundancies built in.”

“But you can do it before the time runs out?”

The concern was clear in his voice and it warmed Tony’s chest, even in a situation like this one.

“Let’s hope so,” he replied.

“If it drops under fifteen seconds, you get out of there, Tony, okay? I’d rather lose the building than lose you. That’s an order.”

Tony resisted the temptation to make a quip about how he didn’t have a very good track record when it came to following orders.

“You got it, Cap.”

“Good. Nat, Clint, how many more people do you have on the thir-“

His voice cut out abruptly with a choked noise of pain before his coms went silent.

“Steve?” Tony called, alarmed. “Steve!”

“We’re headed his way,” Natasha informed him. “You take care of that bomb.”

She was right, Tony knew. Whatever had happened, it would cause a delay in their evacuation attempts. It was suddenly more important than ever that he get the bomb diffused.

That didn’t make him feel much better about staying.

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