Title: we keep this love in a photograph

Summary: Tony Stark's achievements, truths, memories, loves, and lights. So, I published this story a few weeks ago, and just recently updated it because I wanted to do a second chapter, but some elements didn't quite fit. Most things are canon now, which makes the second chapter I'm in the process of writing quite easier. This isn't exactly unfinished, it's more a bunch of oneshots centered around the same topic. I'm sorry if Endgame caused anyone pain. There will be no Endgame spoilers in this chapter, nor the next one, but if I choose to write more, those next ones will. I hope you enjoy! Also, if you want to talk about Endgame PM me.

I am made of glass but I will not shatter

I am made of wood but I will not rot

I am made of metal but I will not rust

I will show

I will ignite

I will shine

If one were to walk into Tony Stark's lab on floor 125 of Stark Tower, one would first notice the suits. There are fifty of them, red and gold, gleaming against the harsh white light of the lab, and they represent nearly a decade of work and pain and mistrust, but also freedom and love and safety. The suits saved more lives than they lost, and yet it is not the suits that do this.

Lined up chronologically, it is only logical for one to assume that these fifty pieces of art, these fifty pieces of Iron Man, something light-years ahead of what is possible, would be Mr. Stark's pride and joy.

One is wrong―the suits represent a need for protection, therefore admitting that Earth is not safe, and act as a reminder that as long as Iron Man soars through the sky, there will always be lives that could not be saved.

Venture further into the lab, and one will notice the bots, silent for they are sleeping. They are U, Butterfingers, and Dum-E. The last, made by Stark at MIT, is probably the most important bot of the three. He, for yes, he is a he, revolutionized AI and technology as we knew it yet is referred to by a name that any self-respecting human would take offense to.

Why would one call genius piece of engineering such as that of Dum-E a dummy? Because Dum-E is not, in fact, a dummy. This fact, along with many others, contributes to the need for Pepper's display, which Tony destroyed in the same day and moment that Dum-E saved his life, a protocol which Mr. Stark had not, in fact, written in.

Suffice to say, the bots are examples of sentient AI, so smart and self-learning that of course they must obviously be Mr. Stark's greatest achievement.

They are not.

Go even further so, and one will be greeted by a female voice, a voice which sounds so human that one will look over their shoulder for the source of the voice. They will not find one. The voice will ask one the nature of one's visit, for they are clearly trespassing.

Instead of answering, one will marvel at the fact that Mr. Stark had managed to create a true, Skynet-be-damned AI. One will assume that it (she) took him years to make, but one will be wrong because all it took were sleepless nights, endless coffee, and a memory, for FRIDAY was not the first.

Although Stark has created tech that the likes of Elon Musk and Bill Gates would turn green with envy at, JARVIS and FRIDAY and HOMER and JOCASTA and HELEN and PLATO and VIRGIL and Vision are not his greatest achievements, they are his creations.

For all of Stark's tech and all of his genius, his greatest achievement is not an invention.

If one was to scrutinise the lab, looking deeper than the suits and bots and holograms and FRIDAY, one would notice, out of the corner of one's eye, something so out of place one would wonder that one didn't notice it before.

In the corner of the lab, hidden by the clutter of inventions scattered here and there, is a small section of wall. There is nothing special about this wall, it does not glow or fly or detach to reveal a machine gun. It is a wall, but that is not what makes it special. What makes it special is the photographs on the wall, some framed and some not, some black and white and some colored, some grainy and some high-definition.

These photos, spanning several decades, tell a story that many have overlooked―Tony Stark's. Yes, most of what the world knows is true―he is the son of the late Howard and Maria Stark, who were tragically killed by the Winter Soldier when Tony was twenty-one. He is the heir to the Stark Empire, he went to MIT at fifteen, became a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, was kidnapped and became Iron Man when he was thirty-eight, and became an Avenger at age forty-two.

He's seen more than most people have, has been to space, fought aliens, befriended a god, and was betrayed time and time again by those he trusted. But this is not what the photos are about.

There is a photo, off to the upper right, of himself as a baby. His mother, Maria, looks exhausted but still perfect, holding baby Tony with a small smile on her face. Howard stands next to her, arms behind his back, a press-ready smile fixated upon his face. Jarvis stands to Maria's right, out of the ordinary but not surprising. He is dressed impeccably, looking every bit the butler he is. However, the most surprising thing in the photo, but at the same time the least so, is Peggy Carter.

She stands next to Howard, a few (three) inches shorter. Dressed in the fashion of the sixties, her grey-streaked brown hair styled in her signature forties fashion, Peggy's red lipstick is as timeless as the photo. She is always the element of the photo that surprises most, although she should not be. She and Howard were friends, after all, and there should have been no reason for them to end such a relationship after Steve was frozen. Peggy is also, perhaps, the person who deserves to be there most.

The next photo is of solely Peggy and Tony. Tony is dressed in an MIT cap and gown, and scrawled across the bottom of the photo are the words June 1, 1987―Tony's MIT graduation! It is written in Peggy's hand, a swirling, looping calligraphy, and is followed by a filled-in heart.

One will notice, as they look at the photo, that it is not Mr. Stark's press smile.

It is not the smile he gives during an interview. It is not the smile he gives for photos. It is a full on, gleeful, joyous smile that can only be described as boyish and carefree. It is the smile of a seventeen year old boy who is surrounded by the two people he loves most―Jarvis, the real one, the one taking the photo, and his aunt Peggy. It is Tony's smile.

Peggy has her arms wrapped around Tony, and the boy has the air of someone who half-heartedly tries to escape an embrace, then fails without really failing at all. Both are grinning, and one can see in the background, to the left of Peggy, a few people staring at the pair―or more specifically, Tony. Neither seems to acknowledge this fact, preferring instead to relish in each other's presence.

Neither Howard nor Maria showed up that day. Tony was not surprised, nor was he disappointed―he had Peggy

In one section, there is a mass of photos covering a particular spot. Some are overlapping, none are framed. If one is to push aside the photos in the center, one will uncover a small, worn photo. It is held in place by a single piece of tape, and looks wholly unremarkable―until one registers the subjects of the photo.

The photo depicts two beaming men with arms slung across each other's shoulders, two men who look to be the best of friends. Two men who would do anything for each other. But that was a long time ago and the two are no longer friends because times change and people change. One will wonder why the photo is covered up, when in reality the real reason is quite simple.

It is because that one small, battered photo represents family and trust and betrayal and lies and hate and truth all in one, and that is too much for the Merchant of Death to bear.

The photo is dated to 2012, after the Battle of New York, and in the top right corner of the photo are five words written in Captain America's hand. Five simple words. Howard would have been proud.

Would he?

There is another photo, one of the framed ones. It is roughly the size of two palms laid side by side, and depicts Mr. Stark and a young brunette boy holding a plaque upside down. Neither is looking at the camera, and Mr. Stark has a small half-smile while the other boy is beaming―and that is the thing, because while the photos are framed or loose or professional or candid or black and white or colored or sepia-toned or small or large, they all have one thing in common. In each one of them, someone is smiling.

These are happy photos, family photos. These are not newspaper clippings, (except for the one of that same boy holding a huge check while the headline reads, Queens boy wins Intel Science Fair) or leaked press photos. These are photos that one might take of family, that one might hang up on a mantel, or a desk, or a wall, because Tony Stark does have a heart, and that heart is in every single one of those hundreds of photos.

Perhaps one of the most surprising ones is smack dab in the middle, enlarged slightly bigger than the rest so that it is prominent and will not be overlooked. It is a picture of a chest, Tony's chest, open with the arc reactor on full display. Tony is grinning, souped up with meds so he doesn't really register the photo being taken. It is surprising not because of its obvious gruesomeness, but because it would make one wonder, why? Why would a man as indestructible and powerful as Tony Stark want the one thing that hinders him, his Achilles heel, where anyone could see it?

Because Tony accepts it. Tony accepts, just like Achilles, that he has a heel, that there is something making him human and real. Even though his heel is his heart and he wears his heart on his armored sleeve, he still chooses to get up every day and fight for what he knows to be true, because like Achilles, he accepts his weakness and makes a strength out of it. This in itself is more than many people could say, more than the people who build themselves up and hide behind expensive suits and oak-wood conference tables and perfectly trimmed mustaches can say, more than so-called heroes who decide that their weakness is the government and that the world is wrong can say.

Tony decides to fight his Trojans and accept that even though he may not come home from the battlefield alive, his fate will mean something, and that is what this picture represents. This picture represents Tony's acceptance of his heel, and that is truly the greatest thing a person can do.

At the end of the day, Tony Stark is human, and it is his acceptance of this truth that is his greatest achievement. While it may seem corny and a bit underwhelming, it is the truth. And in today's world, the truth is all one can hope for.

Review please! Constructive criticism is accepted, but flames are just rude, heartless, and pointless. I'm planning for the next person to view the photos to be Pepper, but if you want, you can request a person to discover them in later chapters, like Steve or somebody. The only ships in this are Pepper/Tony.