Tony Stark wasn't anything special anymore - he'd made himself so, but he didn't have to like it.

During World's Most Wanted ( Invincible Iron Man Vol. 1 [2008] #15 ), Tony's deleting his mind and speaks to Pepper.

Tony's here telling us he's awful and mean and condescending because he doesn't want to be "normal", and I'm like, no, Tony. It would only be that if you didn't value people who are less intelligent than you, but you do value them, just, you don't value them for the same thing. ( And you totally value yourself only on your intelligence, which I'm totally going to comment on because come on. )
Like, sure, that might not be the most considerate way to say it, but you're losing your mind so you should get a free pass.

tags: Marvel 616 ( main comics universe ), Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts (mentioned), Dimirti Bukharin (mentioned), Tony Stark's non-thoughts because he can't think them anymore, mind loss, memory loss, suicidal thoughts, quotes from the comics, Invincible Iron Man Vol. 1 (2008) #15

Blinks

"It's like... Okay. It's like... Guys in my line of work... The Iron Man line of work, I mean, not the Stark stuff... There's always guys 'losing their powers'. There's a ray, or a spell, or an accident... It's a thing that happens, okay?"

Except, for some it didn't. Not everyone relied on superpowers or what not. Some people in the field were actually normal people – not that many, and at that point he couldn't even tell you their names because he was forgetting, but still – and technically Tony Stark was one of them.

The thing was, he might have been one of them, but when you thought about it, he still relied on his armor – on his capacity to make armors and other things, on Extremis until not so long ago – and if he didn't have access to the suit, or, God forbid, to equipment that he'd be able to tinker with, he was just useless, where others relied on their skills – and you couldn't take skills away, not unless you erased everything else in their memory; sounds familiar? And even then there was still instinct and muscle memory, unless you somehow managed to physically delete their strength, which came around to losing their powers, sort of – how many times had Tony Stark been put on the bench because he'd been injured? He couldn't remember precisely, but often enough, he thought – and even with that it was always temporary.

Still, there was one thing you couldn't take away from him – his intellect.

You could, of course, make him forget it all, make him use it for evil if you were dedicated, cunning, and a mind-controlling bastard – had that happened? He thought so, but he didn't know. You could take everything away from him, not even leaving him with a screwdriver, but Tony Stark would still be able to think.

He might not remember what to think, but he'd never forget how to.

Except, apparently, if he was the one doing it to himself.

Sounded about right. No one could destroy Tony Stark quite as well as Tony Stark himself, if only because he was a stubborn bastard and thus didn't bow down when you came at him, but also because he was a stubborn bastard and thus wouldn't stop short of anything to do what was needed – here, goodbye Tony Stark.

"And I'd think... Me, just being the guy in the suit he made in a cave somewhere... I'd always think... Oh no. Now you're just a normal old person and isn't that the worst thing in the world. You're just like the rest of us now."

But it didn't stop there, actually. It wasn't just about being "normal".

If you took Tony Stark's brain away from him, how could he still be Tony Stark? Take his fortune, his place in society, his health, his friends, his hopes, he'd still be himself – he had still been himself, it had already happened more than once, hadn't it? Hadn't it?

He'd still be able to do something, and maybe he wouldn't get to it right away, maybe he'd spend some time in a ditch, but he'd always manage to crawl out and get back – he'd always had.

Just as long as he kept his mind, his brain, his personality, his ability to do something.

If you took that away, if you made him forget how to crawl out, how would he crawl out?

If you took Tony Stark's mind from him, there was nothing of value left behind. It just wouldn't be him. There would be nothing left of Tony Stark, and the shell left behind would be worse than useless, it'd be a waste of space – he wasn't sure why he wasn't jumping into a volcano yet, as Dimitri had proposed, but he thought that was because he had a plan, or maybe because more things had to be destroyed, he didn't remember but he probably had a reason and perhaps it'd come back or perhaps it wouldn't but the only thing he could do right now was trust that the usual Tony Stark knew better than the one with brain damage.

"I'm just like everybody else now, Pepper. I'm just... normal. And I hate being normal."

Except... Except everyone was a bit special, and Tony Stark's brand of special was his brain. The main thing that made him himself was his brain. The rest was important, too, but it wasn't quite as important as his brain, mostly because the rest relied on his brain to be efficient. His courage was worth something only because it brought results, as he didn't just jump into things without thinking about it – and, sure, sometimes he was wrong, but he'd thought about it nonetheless and being wrong was still better than being stupid and endangering everything and everyone for no reason. His charisma only meant something because he had intelligent things to say. His practical tinkering skills were only worth so much because he could think of things to do with those.

All in all, Tony Stark was worth something only because he had a brain.

And now, and soon, he wouldn't have that anymore.

Other people, even "normal" people had personal strengths, be it being a good mother, an amazing cook, or a lawful cop, be it being able to comfort others, inspire crowds or willing to help the unlucky. They were useful, each on their own scale.

They had that one special strength that made them better.

Tony Stark's used to be his brain.

Except he didn't even have that left, did he? He was... He was even less than normal, now, because even normal people were special, and he wasn't that anymore. The only thing that made him worth the air he breathed was gone, the only thing that made him who he used to be was gone, and he wasn't anything anymore – or at least, he would soon not be anything anymore.

Just a waste of space.

Of course he hated being just a waste of space, why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't anyone?

"I'm sorry... I bet that sounded awful and mean and condescending."

If he'd remembered what a mutant was – which he didn't – he'd probably say something about when they'd lost their powers on M-Day, when they'd become "normal", how they'd felt as if they weren't themselves anymore, not the person they had become, not who they were supposed to be, and no one had ever deemed that reaction selfish or awful or mean or condescending. Maybe people hadn't been quite that understanding – they never were, where mutants were concerned – but they hadn't been mean about it – not unless the former mutant in question had been one to flaunt their "special" strength in everyone's face and call themselves superior because of it.

And, for some of those former mutants, it had been liberating – he vaguely remembered a story about a guy who'd never known how good he was at... at some sport with a ball and... anyway, but who'd been happy enough when he'd realized that losing his power meant he could now find out his actual level of skills – in other words, it had been a good thing, sometimes, when "being a mutant" hadn't been the most important thing to them, when, in some cases, it had been a bad thing for them.

If someone asked Tony what part of him he wouldn't be overly upset about losing, well. Being an alcoholic was the first on the list. Then there were a few others that he wouldn't like losing, but that he could still deal with – he'd been poor a few times, or at least without access to his wealth and the comfortable life it brought, and it hadn't made him happy, at least he didn't think so, but he'd managed without complaining every five minutes.

Being smart just wasn't one of these. He didn't think he could deal with watching something happen, knowing that once upon a time he had been able to find a solution and now he was just useless, especially if, in the end, no one else managed to find a solution. He had had a hard time watching people put themselves on the line while he'd been out of commission because of whatever injury, knowing that they were out there and he wasn't because he couldn't be, but it had always been temporary, it had always been something he could eventually work around or out-think.

Not even being able to do that...

But because it was Tony Stark saying those words – because he couldn't think of a better way to put it – it had to be condescending, it had to be mean, it had to be awful. Because it was him saying this, it had to be selfish.

What was wrong with wanting to be yourself?

But he couldn't complain, could he? – because he had made the decision to do this, because it was necessary, because while jumping into a volcano was all and well he wasn't going to do it until there wasn't any other way out, not because he wanted to stay alive, but because he didn't want to give up, because whatever his plan that he didn't remember right now was, it was making the best out of shit.

He was trying to be honest with Pepper, though – and that, here, was yet another indicator that he was losing it, because normally Tony Stark would bear it alone and not burden anyone else with his problem, but right now he wasn't even Tony Stark Lite and he needed to speak.

Only, he didn't remember the words, he couldn't say it how it was meant to be said, and if it wasn't enough it'd still have to do, because that was the best he could manage right now.