Characters/Pairings: Tony-centric, with references to Howard Stark, Obadiah, Hogan, Pepper, Fury, Coulson, and all of the Avengers team.

Rating/Warnings: PG-13, includes references to infidelity and canon character deaths. Contains references (and therefore spoilers) to events from Iron Man 1 & 2, and The Avengers. Strictly movie 'verse.

Author's Note: Written for the avengerskink community on livejournal. My first 5+1 (or variant) fic.


Howard

Howard Stark had been gone for so long that Tony had almost forgotten the pain. Instead, he remembered the pressure: what it was like to grow up the son of a genius and a billionaire, who was known worldwide. Even now, his father's discoveries shaped everything he did, everything he could become. And he remembered a child's loneliness, for a father who had more time for his work than his son.

A dusty film canister changed everything.

Projected across a wall, Tony saw a child who'd grown up in the shadow of genius and not been lost in the dark. He shone brighter than he remembered as he pushed his way into his father's world. Onscreen, Howard Stark said the words he'd never said in person, and Tony grieved anew. His father had been proud, and he'd never known.

Obadiah

Obadiah had been family for as long as Tony could remember. Obadiah gave him his first firecrackers at a 4th of July barbecue, and he could still remember the deep booming laugh in the space between explosions. Obadiah picked him up when Tony was suspended for the first time, and drove him down to Atlantic City until it was time to go back. When Tony first fell for a girl, it was Obadiah he turned to for advice.

Tony's captivity made him change directions, but it was Obadiah's loss that hurt most. For the first time in his life, he tried to take responsibility for the world he'd made. He expected Obadiah to be proud; instead, betrayal. He'd watched, paralyzed, as the man who raised him ripped the core from his chest. Only a quirk of fate let them face each other again. Then the arc reactor exploded, and Tony could only watch as tendrils of energy reached up to consume the falling form. The man he'd loved. Gone. The scar of his betrayal would never fade.

Natasha

Natalie Rushman flipped Hogan as easily as a child, and Tony longed to take her on. Her body captivated him. Her confidence turned him on. With Natalie, everything was a competition, and Tony Stark never backed down from a challenge. When their lovemaking turned into a wrestling match, he still couldn't tell who'd won.

Then she walked up next to Fury in a skintight leather uniform. A S.H.I.E.L.D. spy, who had infiltrated his bed as easily as his boardroom. She'd used him.

Not for sex, which he was used to. (And he'd have been a hypocrite to condemn her for that.) For information.

The betrayal stung more than he'd thought possible.

When the personnel transfer came across his desk, Tony had the urge to feed it into the shredder. Had bedding him been part of her orders? Probably. He grimaced and signed his name.

Pepper

Tony knew Pepper was too good for him from the start. But she'd known him for so long, he thought surely she knew what she was in for.

Apparently not.

She expected him to change. Not quickly, thank god. Pepper had the patience of a saint. Steadily, relentlessly, she nudged him towards the man she seemed to think he should become. For her, he actually tried.

But the fact was: Tony liked himself just fine. He was arrogant, sure. But hadn't he earned that? Cocky - he was a superhero, for fuck's sake. Damn straight he was cocky. And she knew he enjoyed the feel of a woman's body sliding against his own, the sound of sighs and moans and screams rising to crescendo in the echoing space of his bedroom. Wasn't it enough that it was her body he preferred?

Apparently not.

When her business weekend turned into a week, he got bored and invited a lingerie model upstairs. He repented, but the pics ended up on the cover of the Inquirer. Pepper was done waiting for him to change. She left the keys on his worktable, but kept the company.

Coulson

Coulson left before Tony had ever really known him at all. They were business acquaintances. Compatriots maybe, if that could apply when one person was a superhero and the other was a bureaucrat in a business suit. They'd never been friends.

And now they never would.

Tony stared down at the trading cards scattered across the conference table. Stained with blood. His throat was tight, as he stared at the pattern of blood drops. He wondered if the blood belonged to Agent Coulson. Phil. Or if that was part of Fury's ploy too. It didn't matter. Coulson was just as dead, either way. He'd been a collector, and Tony understood the obsessive need to catalog and protect well enough to know that Coulson would never have carried the cards on him. But Fury was right. Something had to change, and if Fury's act of stage play gave them the push they needed, Coulson wouldn't have objected.

Just a man. Coulson had gone up against Loki with nothing but his conviction and a weapon he'd never even tested. And he'd lost. Tony, with his machines and intellect and enhanced battle suit, was powerless to change that. Coulson was dead, and it wasn't just those with superhero powers who could die. Pepper could die, and Hogan and Agent Hill. Oh god, he didn't know her first name either. Remorse stabbed at him, and Tony wanted to take everything back. He wanted to call Pepper and tell her he was sorry. He wanted to go back in time and ask Phil Coulson about the girl in Portland.

But he couldn't do any of that. All Tony could do was put on the suit and try to protect those who remained. His friends, his allies, and all the other nameless schmucks in suits that he'd never thought about before. Tony tore his gaze away from the blood-stained cards and went to do what he could do.

Bruce

The bike was crushed, and stolen anyway. So it seemed natural when Bruce cocked his head to one side, lips twisting in a shy smile, and asked for a ride. Tony leaned over and cracked the door, grinning back like an idiot. Bruce slid in, as Tony popped the clutch and kicked her into gear. They slid past the last of the wreckage and hit the highway. Traffic was light, as most of the city was in shock or in hiding, and Tony opened her up. He was still riding the adrenaline of fighting, dying and coming back and he needed to ride out the high. They screamed down the highway, whipping past the other cars, and Bruce only leaned his head back against the leather head rest, relaxed. Tony laughed, and the wind caught the sound.

After Loki and Thor returned home, the Avengers went back to their corners. Steve drove off in full uniform, shield bright across his back: A one-man parade. Clint and Natasha stalked off into the Park in plain clothes as Tony watched, leaning against the hood of his car. He lost sight of them for a second and they vanished. Two predators, melting back into the hunt. Tony grinned, and pulled the shades down over his eyes. No wonder the two of them hadn't worked out.

He expected Bruce to leave too. But Tony had promised to show him the labs, and that was enough of an excuse. Tony was eager to show off his inventions to someone who could understand them, and he was curious to see what Bruce could do when he didn't have to hide.

So they went to work. Bruce was careful at first, afraid of losing control. But Tony kept pushing. Caution didn't suit either of them. When he finally pushed Bruce too hard, the Mark VII bracelets got him out of range no problem. Later, when Bruce was himself again, there was a moment of awkwardness as the other man surveyed the damage. But Tony just laughed and showed him the records of his early suit tests; he could afford to replace anything. They went back to work, and Bruce moved easier now. Settling in.

Still, it seemed too good to be true. Tony half expected to wake and find the Tower empty, the labs dark and deserted. Everyone left Tony.

Somehow, Bruce never did.