'Hey there, Tony. How's it going?'

The voices always speak to me. Random things, usually.

'You going okay with the new missile design?'

I have no way to reply to them. They've been there since I was very young. I'm used to it. I've never told anyone about them.

'Spoken to Pepper recently?'

They reminded me of things I had to do.

'Don't you have a plane to catch?'

The voices kind of reminded me of Rhodey and Obie combined. I guess. Nice but stern.

'This desert is really dusty.'

Then there was Afghanistan.

'That hurts, doesn't it?'

It started off simply.

'You don't have a lot of time.'

But I did recognise that the voices were being a little harsher than before.

'You like the waterboarding? It's fun, isn't it?'

They became my tormentors.

'Ooh, that glow is pretty. Pity it's imbedded three inches in your chest and hurts so much you want to puke.'

They'd make me think about things I didn't want to think about. Things I never wanted to think about.

'Yinsen is dead. Dead. Dead. It's all your fault!'

They cackled in my ears, adding themselves to the torrent of pain and guilt that was a constant now.

'You'll never succeed Tony. This is bigger than you.'

They were demoralizing.

'Look at all that water, Tony.'

They made me notice things I wanted to ignore.

'Can you feel the shrapnel creeping closer?'

They pushed me to panic when I needed to keep my head clear.

'The poison is better than you.'

They scared me. I was trying desperately to save my life, but if I wasn't, then I'd be trying to get rid of the voices.

'You're going to die.'

I tried to make their insults into something to rally me, but it didn't work.

'Well, you made it. But what about the consequences of what you've done recently?'

I knew they had a little sense in their words.

'They don't want you. You're not good enough.'

The words started hitting me hard. Sometimes I'd go to my workshop after hearing a harsh taunt and cry to myself.

'Well, looks like you're not good enough for Captain America, either.'

I knew they were getting to me too much, that I was weak to pay any notice.

'You're going to die without talking to Pepper one last time.'

And then someone noticed that something was wrong.

"Hey, Tony, are you okay?"

It was Bruce. Of all the people to notice that had known me for so long, or the people who didn't know me that well, it was Bruce. Of course it would be Bruce. The person that, for some reason, I trusted.

Maybe it was because I feel bad about what I did to him. It was me who designed the Hulkbusters. It was me who tried to make his life a misery and only viewed him as an extra-difficult project. A challenge that I had to conquer because I was Tony Stark and that was what I did. I was the best and a genius.

I was fucking stupid. I know that. And the voices didn't hesitate to continue telling me that once I had given them that admission.

'You see, even you know you're stupid.'

Bruce must have seen that something had happened. "I'm sorry." He said politely. "Did I say the wrong thing?"

I shook my head and shot him a smile that just felt so fake. It was my mega-watt press smile that I used to cover up messes that I created. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me, I'm just a little tired."

But it seemed that Bruce saw through my little act. Because he stuck around even though he'd initially said that he would be going as soon as the city was cleared up. And all the voices could say was that I was going to mess everything up.

I knew I was going to, too. But I'm pretty sure that I just believe the voices, now.