Gosh, how long has it been since I updated this? Two months? Sorry, everyone. I wish I could say I have a good excuse, but I'm mostly just lazy.

If anyone seems out of character in this chapter, I apologize. But I feel like given the circumstances in this installment, their reactions make sense. But I'll go ahead and let you read so you can see what I'm rambling about. XD

"You know, I could just let them handle it," Tony said as he shot through the air in the direction of Manhattan. "These criminals don't seem to operate at Hydra or A.I.M.'s level."

"You could," J.A.R.V.I.S returned coolly.

"The other Avengers been nothing but annoying pests lately."

"That is true."

"They probably won't even miss me."

"That is highly likely."

"So I should just turn around and get back to vacationing, right? I mean, that would be the sensible thing to do."

"That would be the old Tony Stark thing to do."

Tony scowled. "What do you mean by that?"

"We can both agree you weren't the best of people before Afghanistan, correct?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"So that Tony Stark would have left his comrades to face this threat on their own."

Tony sighed, understanding what his AI was trying to say. "You're implying that the new me, the me I am now, is too selfless and caring to abandon the Avengers."

"You forgot to add humble to that list."

"Ha ha. You're a jerk."

"I'm only giving Tony Stark advice to you, sir."

"Then I'm a jerk."

"You said it, not me."

Tony was tempted to stick his tongue out at J.A.R.V.I.S, but he decided against it even as he skidded to a halt midair (if that was possible) above the wreckage that was the Bank of America. It looked like the Avengers hadn't arrived yet. Typical. Was he always in charge of picking up their slack? First the missile in the Battle of New York, then Electro, and now this?

"So they do need me. If only to make sure no one dies because they're so slow," he said sarcastically, charging up his repulsors and aiming at the man who seemed like the leader. "Hey, Robin Hood! Tell your merry men to drop the money. Oh, wait. You're probably not stealing for the poor. And let me tell you, you're no dashing prince of thieves."

"You talk too much," the man shot back, waving his hand at his goons. That must have been some sort of silent communication, because in seconds, the criminals each had a gun in their hands. And each gun was pointed at a cowering civilian.

Tony did a quick calculation. That had to be about five and a half citizens considering one of them was a little boy. Okay, guys, where the heck are you?

"All right, all right," Tony said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Relax. Maybe you're kind of dashing? If I squint and tilt my head like this..."

The man let out a growl of frustration and flicked a hand at his companions. Tony could see that one of them was about to pull the trigger and shoot that poor boy. That poor boy who reminded him of his young self who would be held for ransom and came close to death too many times to count.

"Stop!" he cried, putting as much sincerity into his voice as was humanly possible. "Just...stop. What do you want?"

"Isn't it obvious? We want to get away with the cash, idiot," the leader snarled.

"Iron Man, stand down!" a voice echoed through Tony's comm.

He inputted a few commands to where no one outside the suit could hear him talking. "It's about time you got here, Capsicle. Where were you?"

"You need to stand down. You're not helping."

"Excuse me?"

"Look, you just need to get out of here, all right? Now."

Tony's eyebrows knit together in a frown. He wanted to say Steve's harsh tone didn't hurt, but of course it did.

He glanced down to see Captain America, Black Widow, and Hawkeye drop out of the quinjet almost directly below him before it flew back up into the air. The way Cap positioned himself facing the terrorists turned that hurt into anger. Who did he think he was acting like he was all high and mighty like that?

"Tough luck, Spangles," Tony said darkly, charging his repulsors up once again. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Stark, you don't understand! They have-"

Steve's warning was cut off by the sound of a repulsor blasting the man who had been about to shoot the boy, sending the criminal flying. Of course, the leader of the group started shouting a stream of choice words. There was something about Iron Man regretting that move somewhere in there.

"Oh, shut up. No one gives a crap." Tony rolled his eyes as he aimed his hand at the leader. But before he could get another shot off, the man had pulled a small black box out of his bag.

"J.A.R.V.I.S? What's that?"

"It's a-" the AI's voice dissolved into static when the box flashed a bright green light to indicate it had been activated.

"Oh," Tony muttered. "So that's what it is."

It felt like he was suspended in the air for ages (when in reality, it was less than a second) before he dropped like a rock through the short distance to the ground.

"Natasha!" he heard Clint cry in warning before he smacked the ground. The crunch he heard beneath him didn't bode well. Especially since his body parts felt intact. But the cry of pain from the Black Widow wasn't promising in the slightest.

"Get him off of her!" Hawkeye shouted even as he tried to lift the Iron Man armor.

Tony grimaced inside of it. That wasn't happening anytime soon. "Nat?" he queried, hating how his voice sounded uncertain. When he didn't get an answer, he felt his heart plummet. You know, if he had a heart (he'd been told he didn't have one).

"You landed on her leg, Stark!" Clint hissed, dragging Iron Man off his girlfriend with some help from Steve.

"I'm fine," Natasha spoke up, trying to keep her tone firm, but there was obviously a quake in the short statement.

"No, you're not," Clint argued, lifting her into his arms and then apologizing quietly when she let out a pained hiss through her teeth. "Cap, get Iron Man back to the tower, would you? I'm taking Tasha to the hospital."

"Wait!" Tony called as the pair left in a taxi (Natasha hated ambulances), wishing he could move. "I-"

"I think this is one of those times where you have the right to remain silent," Steve said lowly as he dragged Iron Man onto the quinjet Bruce had landed before beginning to pry the armor off.

Tony snapped his mouth shut at that, at a loss for words (which didn't happen often). Normally he would have replied with a witty remark, but instead he came up with, "Wait a sec. What about the terrorists?"

"They got away," Cap replied in a flat tone, not meeting his teammates' eyes. "They took the opportunity to escape while we were distracted by you and Natasha."

Tony closed his mouth again, his mind whirling. So this was his fault. Of course it was. Why was everything always his freaking fault? First it was putting Steve in a coma and now it was probably shattering Natasha's leg? Only, he was in control of himself this time.

"I-" he started to say, but Steve held up a hand to silence him.

"Save it," he said, yanking off the last piece of armor. "Whatever it is you think you're going to say, it can't make up for what you did today."

Tony decided to stay silent during the rest of the ride back to the Tower. Something told him anything he said would be greeted with a cold calculated response from Cap. And staying silent gave him a chance to really think about what he had done. Loki was right. He wasn't a hero. All he did was get his friends hurt, whether he was in control of himself or not.

After what felt like forever, Bruce, Steve, and Tony were back at the Tower sitting around the kitchen island. They were awaiting news about Natasha. She and Clint still hadn't returned.

Tony, meanwhile, was mentally punching himself over and over. He didn't even care about how Steve and Bruce were sitting on the opposite end of the island, as far away from him as possible. All he cared about was Natasha, the only one who had his back through all this. Was she okay? Was she starting to hate him, too?

Finally, Steve's cell rang and he answered it, putting it on speaker. "How is she?"

"Not so good," Clint answered, sounding dejected. "Natasha's right knee and all the bones beneath it are completely shattered. The doc says they need to keep her in the hospital for a few days for investigation to decide if she needs...if she needs a..."

Once again, Tony felt his heart plummet. And it wasn't a good feeling. It both hurt and made him feel like he was going to be sick at the same time.

"If she needs a what, Clint?" Bruce asked, his voice quiet.

"A prosthetic. They're going to have to see if she needs a prosthetic."

Tony's expression remained impassive, while on the inside, he was screaming. Natasha couldn't get a prosthetic. That would throw off her entire lifestyle! How could she fight the way she did with a metal leg? How could she ever be as graceful as she used to be again?

"If?" Steve asked, voice low.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not definite. Though at this rate, it's highly likely."

The nearly indiscernible despair in his voice sent Tony shooting to his feet and striding out of the room. He couldn't listen anymore. This was his fault. Natasha was wounded because of him. If he'd listened to Cap, if he hadn't insisted on staying, if he hadn't been stupid, he wouldn't have been hit by the EMP and he wouldn't have landed on her leg.

"Stark."

Oh, great. Steve had followed him. He didn't want to be consoled right now.

"Look, Cap, I don't want to hear that it isn't my fault," Tony said with a sigh, not turning around. "I know it is."

"You're right."

The harsh way the two words were spoken sent Tony spinning around to face the Avengers' leader. And the look on his face wasn't good. It was one of pure disapproval and maybe a hint of anger.

"Uh...what?" Yup. That was Tony Stark the genius. He was so eloquent with his words.

"You're right. It is your fault," Steve repeated, holding his hands down at his sides. Tony noticed they were balled into fists. "If you had only listened to me, none of this would have happened. But that's your problem, isn't it? You can't listen. You can't take orders. And you can't stop thinking about yourself long enough to care about a member of your team."

Tony opened and closed his mouth in shock, feeling like a fish. Had he heard that right?

"I've tried," Steve went on, taking a deep breath through his nose. "I've tried so hard to understand what you're going through. I've tried to lend a hand. I've tried to help you with Loki. And I'm sorry you're having to go through whatever hellish circumstances involving a god in your head, but that doesn't excuse what you did today. Loki doesn't have control over you anymore, correct?"

Tony felt his eyebrows knit together in another frown. He knew where this was going. "Correct."

"Then you could have easily obeyed orders. But you didn't. And because of your stubbornness and pride, you injured one of our teammates today. Possibly enough to put her out of commission permanently."

Tony wanted to fight back. He wanted to say that Cap was wrong and that what he was saying was out of line. But really, he had all of it coming. Yeah, he was mad at Rogers for saying all this, but at the same time he was submissive. He knew that Cap had a point. He knew that Loki had a point. He wasn't a hero. What kind of hero rebelled against orders and injured a friend? That sounded like a villainous thing to do.

"I know," he said finally, seeing a spark of surprise light in Steve's eyes at the lack of a fight. "What I did was wrong. And it wasn't very heroic at all."

Cap frowned, looking as if he wanted to say something more, but knowing that he was right. And that was what angered Tony the most. That Rogers was right and he was wrong. That Loki was right and he was wrong. He was just wrong on so many levels.

"When you go to visit Natasha, tell her I'm sorry. About everything."

"You're not coming?" Steve asked, and Tony resisted the urge to laugh. He thought after all that he had said that Tony would want to pay a visit to the teammate he had injured. Priceless.

"I'll pass. You guys go on ahead."

Steve still looked bewildered at Tony's lack of fire, but he nodded. "Okay, then. I'll give her the message." And then he was gone, leaving Tony alone in the hallway.

Tony stood there for a while, making sure the others had left, before whirling on his heel and purposely striding for his workshop. He was going to tinker, of course. It always helped him to feel better. But in this case, he didn't want to feel better. He wanted to embrace the realization that he had come to through all of this.

Iron Man wasn't a hero. He was a villain.