A/N: It was RDJs birthday and I just really missed the time when it was just the original six (don't get me wrong, I love most of the new ones too), so I wrote a version of a very old, very overdone trope from the Avengers 2012 era. Really itching for some good, old fashioned hurt/comfort and who better to take it out on than Tony Freaking Stark?

It's been a while since I wrote this genre and the characters might be slightly OOC. Do let me know if it comes across this way.

Also, just a trigger warning: slight reference to suicidal behaviour but nothing graphic or intense.

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Tony knew for a while that his position on the team was perched on precarious grounds, long before any of his "team" had the opportunity to bring it up. In fact, he was largely prepared to talk about it, planning to mask it with his trademark brand of indifference to make it seem like he didn't mind being the 'consultant'. He was a genius, a successful entrepreneur, rich and famous, and most of all, a survivor. So what if he wasn't designated the mere title of hero, Tony knows he's no hero. He's just a guy with a suit.

Heroes are self-sacrificing, altruistic, likable people and he's acutely aware of the fact that he is neither of those things.

The only thing you really fight for is yourself.

He's not reliable.

You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play.

He's not well-liked.

You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero.

And he's definitely not a hero.

The genius is jolted into the present by a firm hand on his shoulder and a pair of angry blue eyes staring at him. In retrospect, he always thought that this would come up in a different conversation, preferably one recognizing him as a valuable member of the team rather than an expendable member of the team but he supposes nothing really goes his way. Ever.

"Have you been ignoring me, Tony? Did you hear a word I just said?"

He figures he must have zoned out for a lot longer than he thought because the captain sounds less angry than when he started, and more disappointed. He puts on the most convincing smile he can muster and looks at Steve.

"No." Tony pauses. "Maybe. Yes. It's hard to keep listening when you sound like my mom, it's just a natural instinct to tune you out. Nothing personal."

Behind Steve, Tony hears Clint scoff at the answer while Steve's face becomes angry again.

"Well, I can't help but feel like it is personal, Tony. You endangered our chances and our safety, so please, can you at least pretend to care about the consequences?"

"You think I don't care?" Did I hear that right?

"You haven't exactly convinced us otherwise, Stark," says Clint.

"Hey, stay out of this, Birdbrain."

Clint, who has taken clear offense to being called names, makes a sudden move to get in Tony's face but is stopped by Steve's hand who gives the archer a look of warning.

"Calm down, Clint. It's not worth it."

"I know guys with none of that worth ten of you."

While Tony was busy glaring at Clint, Natasha sighs loudly. She takes a step forward towards the billionaire and levels him with her most stern expression.

Tony was never one to test her patience but he's tempted to try every time she treats him like a child. When he thinks about it, they all do.

"Would it ever hurt you to think about your actions for once? Or does everything have to turn into a tantrum?" she says.

Maybe it was because he was exhausted, or the fact that he was bruised and battered from the fight before, but the filter in this brain meant to protect him from saying dumb shit, chooses this moment to stop working.

"Oh that's rich coming from you. If you're about to lecture me on action and consequence, Ms. Rushman, then please excuse me while I go shoot myself in the head."

Natasha's gaze hardens immediately and calmly reaches for her holster. Tony's suddenly worried he might actually get shot in the head but instead, she slowly pulls the gun from her waist and offers it to him.

"No need to leave, feel free to do so right here."

Tony knows he's not the only one that feels the temperature drop several degrees as the weight of her gesture sinks in. He looks at her, eyes wide and full of incredulity. He can see Steve and Clint frozen in place from the corner of his eyes as well as they try to grasp what's happening. In the meantime, Natasha's eyes have locked on to Tony's, her stare intense, unwavering, and scarily sincere.

He's brought out of his shock at the sound of Natasha's voice again as she focuses on her holstering her gun.

"So now that we've established your flair for theater, let's get back to the matter at hand."

Tony remains uncharacteristically silent, still too stunned to rebuttal her accusation. To her credit, Natasha continues as though she hadn't just encouraged a man to kill himself.

"It's exactly this kind of childish behavior that landed you on this team as a consultant and not an avenger."

Now that get's a reaction from everyone. Steve and Clint are taken aback at first and Tony muses that maybe they hadn't really known and he has some chance at redemption, but it doesn't take Clint long to chime in about it.

"Well that certainly explains a few things, namely your complete disregard for the rest of us. This makes benching you a lot easier and Steve can save his breath for a lecture that might actually stick."

Hurt by Clint's casual acceptance, Tony makes short eye contact with Natasha before turning to the captain of the team, hoping that Steve has something less harsh and more constructive to offer. However, he should have known his luck doesn't run so far.

"If I had known earlier that you aren't an avenger, I would have established clearer boundaries. I can't have you joining us on calls, Stark, not without the proper clearance and if your assigned duties are of a different capacity, then I have to honor that. I'm sorry, Stark."

At least he wasn't being intentionally cruel like Clint or Natasha but it still stung to hear Steve be so easily dismissive of him. Tony thought he had built a slightly better reputation than that. He continues to stare at the captain, desperately recalling any one of the hundreds of imaginary conversations he planned out in his head for moments like these but keeps coming up short. Like a hard drive that had been completely wiped, Tony is unable to form a single thought. With a shattered resolve and both a bruised body and ego, the genius gathers the last of his self-respect, puts on an empty smile, and says,

"Okay then. I'll see you around."

And promptly walks away.