I own nothing but the plunny.

I Trust You (don't make me regret it)

Tony Stark spent so long, so long, trying to establish a good sense of trust with the Avengers – and even longer trying to do the same with S.H.I.E.L.D. He would be the first to say it was near impossible, especially considering his past with Stane and… well, it had been hard to regain trust with S.H.I.E.L.D since the whole 'Coulson' fiasco, but they'd gotten there in the end.

Truthfully, Tony thinks that Coulson was angrier with S.H.I.E.L.D than anyone else was because, hello, he'd spent forever trying to collect those Captain America cards.

So, eventually Tony had gotten even with S.H.I.E.L.D (long story) and he had thought there'd been a well-established trust between them. You know, despite the secrets within secrets thing. Tony reckons he'd had a mutual understanding with Director Pirate-Pants, at least.

But then, Fury had to go ahead and be more of a jackass than any other jackass on the planet and that, truly, was saying something (because, you know, Tony had met Howard Stark and his 'oh-so-perfect-super-soldier friend-who-possibly-wasn't-as-annoying-as-Tony-thought-initially').

But how had he managed to be such a jackass? By using Stark Tech, that Tony had thought long gone, for S.H.I.E.L.D and branding it with the S.H.I.E.L.D logo. Really, did he think Tony was that stupid?

Heads turned in the billionaire's direction as he stormed down the S.H.I.E.L.D corridors and towards the briefing room where the other Avengers, Fury, Coulson and Hill had been waiting for him for about ten minutes already. Nobody missed his clenched fists, knuckles almost white from the pressure, and furious expression as well as (and, yeah, he'd decided to go to drastic measures like these) the small handgun he had clenched in his right fist.

He'd taken the liberty of screaming himself hoarse for ten minutes straight at the guys who were about to deny him entrance into Headquarters, due to the gleaming silver weapon in his hand (until he finally cleared his mind enough to be able to tell them in relatively dulcet tones that; 'Director Fury requested seeing the new gun I fashioned the other week. I'm thinking of testing it – how'd you like to be my assistant?' and they'd backed off pretty much straightaway).

When he reaches the debriefing room doors, they slide open smoothly for him and a smooth woman's voice says; "Welcome, Tony Stark, as per usual, Director Fury is unable to say that he's very pleased to see you." Tony's not really in the mood, thanks, and doesn't crack a smile.

"Someone took their time," Natasha remarks drily, but Tony can see a glimmer of humour in her dark eyes that suggests that whoa, maybe she's not such an emotionless assassin after all. Any other day, Tony would've called her up on it and made some sort of joke, but he's pissed with her too so he doesn't pay it much attention.

"The security guys wouldn't let me in," says Tony blandly, waving the gun in the air manically for good measure. "Who knew a genius wielding a gun was such a problem, eh?" He grins unnervingly, a gleam of anger flashing in his dark eyes.

For the first time everyone notices the anger which not only shows on his face but in his whole demeanor as well. They notice the gun in his hand and the eyes that scream 'bloody murder' with such a fiery passion that it makes even Coulson recoil. His stance is wary and guarded too, like he knows he's going to get in deep shit for whatever he's about to do if he isn't careful enough. But that doesn't matter much, not really, not when he's got enough access into S.H.I.E.L.D that he could erase the very existence of W.W.C and get away with it.

"Tony," Steve says warily, probably 'cause he thinks he can get Tony to calm down. Huh, tough luck Spangles, even Pepper couldn't shake him right now. Not now that he's so fired up he could shoot Fury point blank in the face without a single regret – not now that his trust has been tested to its limits and nothing, nothing will get it back.

Like a mirror; you can repair the broken shards, but no matter what you do, the cracks will always show.

"Tony," Bruce cuts in, with a determined look at Steve. Because if anyone knows a thing about Tony, it's Bruce – and Bruce knows that nothing Captain Spangles says will calm Tony down. Not when he's this damn mad. "Put the gun down, Tony. You can talk about this. Whatever's wrong, we're willing to hear it out."

Tony takes it back - Steve is smarter than Jolly Green. The billionaire narrows his eyes at the doctor and cocks his head to the side, a cruel smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. The gun is loaded by his side and it's a small comfort to know it's there. It's okay, because if shit gets bad, he'll shoot. He will. He's not being betrayed twice.

"Hear it out?" Tony's voice starts off calmly but it's trembling ever so slightly, so everyone can see the ice about to break through that oh-so-calm demeanor. "Hear it out?" He echoes, voice loud enough to be considered the beginning of a shout.

"Stark," Fury barks, sounding quite irritated, in Tony's opinion. He sounds kind of frustrated, like he can't believe Tony has the nerve to walk in and start shouting and waving a loaded gun around. Actually, the gun only has nine bullets. One for each. Not that Tony reckons he'll use them. "Would you just shut up and make sense for once in your life?"

Tony smirks in amusement, but it still has that hint of cruelty within the slight show of emotion. "That's slightly contradictory, cap'n." He points out mildly, resisting the urge to bring his hand up in a mock salute. "I can't make any sense if I'm quiet now, can I?"

Fury's seething now and for that, Tony's proud. He knows just how to make the director's buttons tick in a way that nobody else can. It's a quality life skill that Tony's prided himself on for years now. It's just disappointing that he only realized it so late after meeting Fury.

"Tony," Says Clint. "What's up?" Tony hadn't even noticed the archer before now. But he's there, hidden in the shadows and leaning casually against the cool white walls of the debriefing room. It's odd how Clint never seems to sit with anyone else around the table. But then, we're talking about the guy who sits on the top of the fridge to eat breakfast.

"I'll tell you what's up," Tony seethes, voice dangerously low and he ignores Hill's muttered; 'oh, goody.' "What's up is that S.H.I.E.L.D uses all of my weapons. The weapons I solely saved for the Avengers Initiative – nobody else – for fear of them falling into the wrong hands. You'd better listen because I'm only going to say this once. I know you all know about my weapons. The Avengers, sans Tony Stark in big red letters, were in the need-to-know category. Hill was in the need-to-know category. Mister Ahoy-there-matey over here obviously knows, and I'm not sure about Coulson, but I didn't read it all that well, considering how much red I was seeing at the time.

"Do you know why I stopped making weapons? Because I saw thousands being killed by the tech I made. Because I knew how dangerous my tech was. Because I'd been shot by my own bomb. Because my closest and most trusted friend betrayed me for my weapons. Do you see the pattern? You'd damn well better see it because I ain't repeating for the stupid in here. And you, Agents and Avengers, you just joined the cycle I'd so hoped you'd stay out of." The billionaire pauses in his rant, breathing heavily whether it's because he's out of breath or because he's so damn mad he doesn't know. He doesn't care either, so, whatever.

Thor frowns. "S.H.I.E.L.D uses your weapons, yes." He booms with a slight nod. "I hardly understand why this should concern you. If they have seen fit to keep this from you, they have their reasons. They are your superiors. Listen to them."

"I'm not listening to them ever again." Tony said with a smirk, anger bubbling up inside his stomach like a bubbling pit of lava and molten rock. "I won't need to. I quit. You'll find that your weapons are currently a pile of ashes and that JARVIS has infiltrated your systems."

As if on cue, JARVIS speaks over the loudspeaker. His crisp British tones fill the room and startle everyone inside sans Tony. "Good morning, Agent's Romanoff, Barton, Coulson and Hill, Director Fury, Captain Rogers, Doctor Banner and Mister Odinson. Sir has asked me to warn you of my infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D, Sir's immediate resignation from both an Avenger and his job as a consultant of S.H.I.E.L.D, the immediate destruction of Sir's weapons and the ominous notion that, and I quote, 'S.H.I.E.L.D will burn'."

Just like that, JARVIS is silent and everyone in the room stared, gob smacked, at the resident billionaire who'd wiped the smirk off his face and was now standing silently by the door with his arms folded matter-of-factly across his chest and a scowl on his face. Despite his irritated stance, however, there is an air of satisfaction on his face that even a baby could have sensed from a mile away.

With one last long look around the room, gaze steely cold with a hidden air of frustration, Tony turns on his heel and marches out of the room, fingers twitching on the gun. Now that he's out, away from those who made his blood boil like water in a kettle, he looks at the weapon in his grasp and sighs slightly. He was never going to use it, no matter how annoyed he was. Intimidation purposes, you know? Nothing says angry like a crazy-billionaire-who-is-also-Iron-Man-and-a-genius wielding a gun.

And now, that sense of trust is gone.