2011, Stark Tower, New York City

"I'll be back tomorrow," Pepper said, her voice slightly staticy from the distance across which her and Tony were speaking.

"Love you," Tony replied, before tapping the 'Hang Up' button and setting the phone down on the brand-new coffee table. The billionaire sighed, running his hands through his hair, feeling a headache creeping up on him. He really needed to get some sleep, but lately, that had been hard to do. Maybe it was the smell of sawdust and electricity that still filled the tower even though construction had been finished for two weeks. Maybe it was the constant noise of the city, so different from the peaceful sounds of crashing waves in Malibu. Most likely, though, it was the anxiety over Pepper's absence. She was at a Stark Industries thing in Rio, and wouldn't be back until tomorrow.

Tony collapsed into the couch, flicking on the television. Normally, he'd be in his lab, making another update to the suit, but there was a wiring problem two days ago, and there was currently no power whatsoever going to any of the computers or robots down there, so binge-watching the Harry Potter movies on ABC looked like how Tony's night was going to go. "J.A.R.V.I.S.," Tony said, glancing at one of the security cameras he had installed, "pop some corn, will ya?"

"Would you like anything on that, sir?"

Tony considered for a moment. "Some cheddar, if we still have some."

"Noted."

Thirty minutes later, Tony had a warm bucket of popcorn in his lap, a glass of scotch in his hand, and Harry was being sorted, when there was a loud crash from above. Tony jumped, spilling his popcorn, scotch sloshing over the side of his glass onto the couch. That would definitely leave a stain. "J.A.R.V.I.S.," Tony yelled, "what the hell was that?"

There was no reply. "J.A.R.V.I.S.?" Tony asked, slightly worried now, "what's going on up there?"

A moment of silence. Then, the lights flickered and went out, leaving Tony sitting in the darkness. Alright, something was definitely up here. Tony pushed himself up from the couch, setting his now-half empty glass on a side table. He pressed the button for the elevator to take him down to the armory. Nothing. That's what he got for not having a suit on every floor. He would have to work on that.

He made his way over to the bar, grabbing the handgun he kept hidden behind a rather impressive collection of vintage wine bottles. It was nothing compared to the suit, but Tony would rather address the problem quickly than travel down six floors via stairs to get to the suit.

There are only two floors above Tony, and both were empty when he checked them. That left only the roof. He sighed, leaning against the wall for a moment. He really didn't want to go outside tonight. There had been these weird storms lately, and stories on the news of people being sucked up by them and never seen again. Plus it was really chilly out.

He shoved open the door and raised his gun, fully expecting to come face to face with another Stane. Or Vanko. What he found was very different.

It was the smell of iron the filled his nose first. Damn that smell. He had encountered that smell too many times in his life. He pulled his keys from his pocket and turned on the dim keychain light, shining it around the roof. It was then that he stopped cold. There was a person lying on the roof, and it looked as if whoever it was had just crawled out of a meat grinder. There was blood coating their entire form, and several limbs were twisted at odd angles. In this light, it was impossible to tell their gender.

Tony bent down next to them and noticed the small cracks around the person's form. His eyes widened. Had this person actually fallen onto his roof? Where could they even fall from? Tony knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. did some shady shit up above, but he sincerely doubted that they would fly over a vastly populated city like New York.

Tony reached for the person's wrist, which felt like ice when Tony touched it. He breathed a sigh of relief when he located a pulse, because for one thing, having a dead body randomly showing up on his roof would be hard to explain to S.H.I.E.L.D., the public, and most importantly, Pepper. And for another, if a dead body were to randomly show up on his roof, it would mean that either some villain was dumping them over New York, which was bad, or S.H.I.E.L.D. was dumping dead bodies now, and that would be even worse.

"J.A.R.V.I.S.?" Tony asked the air. Again, no response. This person's fall must have damaged the generator. Tony groaned before picking up the surprisingly heavy roof crasher. "Shit," he whispered, standing up and making his way to the staircase. He was not looking forward to lugging this stranger's ass down three flights of stairs.

Four minutes and several swear words of varying severity later, Tony deposited the stranger, who he had determined was male, onto the couch. "Sorry buddy," he said, turning away, "but I need to get the power on before I can help you out." He made his way over to the closet with the generator in it, and five minutes later, the lights flickered back on. Tony breathed a sigh or relief before turning to examine his roof crasher.

It was worse in the light. There were several scratches across the man's arms, neck, and face, and his weird outfit was completely soaked through with blood. His fingers looked almost frostbitten, and his hair was a mess. Tony sighed, looking down at his hands, which he had only just realized were stained with almost black-looking blood. If Pepper were here, he knew this would be much more easier.

He bent down next to the guy and placed a hand on his shoulder, and a sharp chill instantly ran through Tony, as if he had just touched one of those fancy ice sculptures. The dude jolted, his eyes opening wide. He looked as if he just seen a ghost. There was this look in his eyes, like he had seen some serious shit. "Wha-where?" the man managed to get out, before succumbing to a coughing fit.

"You're alright," Tony said, trying his best to channel his inner Calm Pepper, "hey, calm down. I'm gonna call you an ambulance, okay? There'll be much better doctors on one of those things." The man was shaking his head now, which gave Tony pause.

"No-no healers," the man whispered, his voice sounding hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in months.

"Alright," Tony said. He could respect that. Tony had never been very keen on doctors. He hadn't let strangers see him unconscious ever since Afghanistan. And there would always be questions, from both them and Pepper, and sometimes, he just didn't want to answer them. "I have a medical wing two floors down from here, if you think you can walk," Tony said. The man considered a moment, then nodded.

Tony ended up having to let the man lean on him for most of the elevator ride down. When they arrived in the medical wing, Tony deposited the roof crasher on the nearest bed and went over to the supply closet, grabbing some band-aids, stitches, the whole shebang.

"Alright," he said to the stranger, "I'm gonna try to fix you up. Now, keep in mind, I only have my basic medical training that Pepper forced me to get." The stranger gave Tony an inquisitive look. "She's my girl," Tony explained. The stranger nodded, relaxing into the pillow.

"You have a name?" Tony asked as he started to wipe off the blood. The man nodded, but didn't say anything. Tony sighed.

"How'd you get this banged up?" he tried, grabbing another baby wipe.

The man considered for a moment, then said, "I fell."

"Yeah, no shit," Tony said, marveling at the amount of blood that could be in a person./ Also, there was something distinctly off about this guy's blood, now that Tony could see it in bright florescent light. "The question is, where did you fall from? And what is up with your blood, buddy? It's so dark."

For a moment, the stranger's eyes flicked to the side, as if he were remembering something. Judging by the way they darkened, it wasn't a good something. "If I told you, you would not believe me," he said finally, and there was a sort of sadness in his voice.

"Try me," Tony said, wrapping some gauze around the man's arm, "I'm Tony Stark. I fly around in a metal suit saving people. I once had a Russian guy attack me in the middle of a race car track with electric whips. A woman pretended to be my intern for an entire month before I found out she was a spy. I've seen a lot of shit you wouldn't believe."

The man gave a thin smile, before looking off to the side again. Tony wondered what was so interesting about the undecorated wall. "I couldn't hold on any longer," the man said, voiced trembling, "I looked up to the person I had seeked to please my whole life and begged for his approval. And he just looked at me, and said 'no' and I-" The stranger took a deep, rattling breath, "I let go."

Tony stared before quickly looking away. "Wow," he said, a memory from several years ago filling his mind, "this guy sounds like a real asshole."

The stranger snorted. "You have no idea." They fell into silence once more, and Tony sighed.

"Look," he said, pulling on some plastic gloves, "I'm not saying I believe in fate or the will of God or any of that." The stranger gave Tony an odd look. "But maybe the universe still wants you alive. I heard in a show that sometimes, the impossible happens, and we call that miracles. The point is, I've been in that place too, and look at me now." Tony spread out his arms, a grin on his face. "I'm Iron Man. I guess what I'm trying to say is, just because you hit a low doesn't mean you'll stay that way forever."

The stranger nodded, seemingly lost in thought. Tony finished bandaging the guy up in silence. "You want a water bottle or something?" Tony asked. The stranger nodded, and Tony went over to the cooler and pulled out a bottled water, setting it on the side table next to the bed. "Alright," Tony said, "if you need anything, just ask J.A.R.V.I.S. He's my AI." The stranger nodded.

"Night," Tony said, making his way towards the door.

"Thank you," the stranger whispered. Tony turned around.

"It was my pleasure," he said, already thinking about his abandoned glass of scotch. Maybe a couple more shots wouldn't hurt. Tonight, Tony had earned it.


In the morning, the hospital bed was neatly made, all the bandages and gauze were put neatly back in the closet, and there was no sign of the stranger. "How many shots did I have last night?" Tony wondered aloud.