A/N at the end

Tony Stark had had a long day.

It didn't seem to him like a year. Hell, it didn't even seem like a week since it happened, yet the days dragged on, endless and full of hours designed specifically to torture those who didn't want to think.

Days became filled with meaningless chatter with meaningless people over meaningless subjects. He would count the minutes until the hour ended, and the hours until the sunset. Time soon became irrelevant, because when you can't sleep, all hours become hours of work. To start wit, he tried to maintain a 'healthy' sleep pattern. Waking up, exercising, eating, working, curling up and hiding between the sheets of his far-too-expensive bed. But, as time nauseatingly crawled along, suddenly it didn't seem to matter to him anymore. Nightmares and memories, the line between the two so godam blurred it hardly even existed, keeping his brain on edge and sleep far away. Tony's sleep cycle was like that of a man held captive, unaware of the time of day. He would work all night, fighting to keep his eyes open and the bitter taste of self-imposed guilt far away. He'd work until he couldn't fight the urge no longer. He'd sleep only when nectary and dosed up on Stark Industries new and exclusive sleep meds that blocks memories and dreams from appearing during sleep.

Life had become hellish for many after the snap, but no so much as Iron Man. It became like 'the game'. You know, the one where you try not to think about the game for as long as possible and you lose when you remember? And you do remember you have to tell everyone, so they lose as well? Life was like that, except for 'the game' being the final fight on Titan, and he lost every couple of hours. 6 hours was the longest he'd gone without dredging the memories from his brain. 6 hours was the longest he'd allowed himself to forget what he blamed himself for.

A year. 365 days. 8760 hours. 8760 hours since the whole planet came to a grinding holt. Mothers, fathers, friends, lovers, all lost in an instant. Children orphaned, people left without a lover. Children gone far far before there time. Those who never got to see what them, their friends, the siblings, their children would go on to do. The world lost a kid who maybe would figure out a method of curing cancer. The world lost a fucking angry non-binary teenager who wanted to change the shape of society. They lost the person who would smile and make someone's day.

All dead because of him.

You would assume that no man could carry the guilt of half the universe on his shoulders. But when his shoulders are made of titanium alloy, it becomes easier for the world to think that he can, and he should.

Honestly, he knew he couldn't hold it all, and he knew that eventually it would become too much for him to hold. The weight of 3.5 billion lives isn't something anyone could hold, least of all an emotionally volatile man. It would crush him, in fact it was pushing down on him now, but sooner or later it would fall onto him like a building trembling from the tremors of an earthquake. And everyone knew when it fell it would kill him when the seemingly perfectly balanced stack of innocent peoples lives fell onto him. Because no one could survive that.

Tony Stark had had a long day.

The day had been full of memorials, each one more depressing than the last. Every countries president, monarch or leader had spoken to him. All eyes were on the only surviving members of the battle as they spoke, as they openly grieved for those they'd also lost, as every news reporter and press member flashed cameras and threw angry questions specifically designed to open the red-raw wounds of guilt littered across everyone. As everyone sat quietly and watch the thick blanket of silent blame fall over them.

Tony nursed a ridiculously expensive bottle of single malt whiskey. He didn't see the point of bothering with a glass. To be completely honest, he didn't see the point in very much recently, having appeared to have entered a state ultimate nihilism. Taking a swig, and basking in the short lived but greatly enjoyed burn of the drink, he placed the lid back on the bottle before-

"Sir," The voice of Friday rang out the office. "One of the lower level members of staff has requested to enter onto this level. Shall I allow them access?"

Tony readjusted himself on his chair,

"Who is it? I can't really be bothered to entertain any hyper nerd today." Tony's reply was filled with a heavy groan and a strained tone.

"Boss, it's an intern called Liora Adelman. She has been sent by Dr Banner."

Tony agreed for the intern to be sent up, puzzled to when they had hired a new intern. He had strictly said not to hire any new staff without his permission. And with a position like the 'intern' that brought back so many painful thoughts, he would have thought that they would have at least told him. Yes, he could see the benefits to hiring an intern. Stark Industries needed to keep up the façade that they were trying to do right by world, that they were caring. When everyday there were people angrily marching against Tony Stark and recently reformed avengers, they needed the public to see, to believe that they weren't the bad guys, that they wanted good to come. However, he had said no, and you would think they'd at least tell him, maybe even ask his opinion.

A sharp knock on his door brought his brain back to reality. His door was already open, so the knock was simply a sound to alert him of the intern's presence. In the doorway stood a small, tanned teenage female. Shoulder length, chestnut brown curls fell around her face, and heavily lashed hazel eyes that perfectly matched her olive complexion took their place upon her face. The figure was small but incredibly muscular. She stood in the doorway, clutching a large stack of files with the Stark Industries logo embellished across the top.

"Mr Stark, sir, Dr Banner has asked me to deliver these files to you. He asks if you could possible look over them before Friday." Liora's voice held a slight accent that he couldn't quite place. Tony sighed when she spoke, before pushing himself up, out of his slouching position, and placing a hand underneath his chin.

"Dr Banner? Really? How does a little intern like you know Bruce?" Tony spoke with plain arrogance, speaking possessively of the doctor. Sure, he was intrigued by the girl, but a bottle of whiskey and emotional numbness turned off his ability to simply be nice to others.

"I'm Dr Banners intern. I work underneath him, helping him with his work. Would you please take these reports and files?" She walked over to his desk where she handed him the files.

"You must be good, really. Hell, you only look about 10." Snarky.

"16 actually. I graduated from Oxford early and came over here to study Biological Engineering. Dr Banner heard about my work and asked me to help him out."

"Funny, I was never told about this."

"I think they bypassed you, seeing as you put Dr Banner in charge of the research department. If Walmart was hiring at a store in the middle of Alabama they probably would not tell the CEO." Tony never liked to be made aware of any decisions he made in an alcohol fuelled haze, especially ones that had to be made due to the deaths of those who once filled the positions.

"You actually have a point. You're Israeli?" His tone had now softened, now starkly aware of the atmosphere in the room and the fragile nature of his emotions. He wasn't ready for tears, lest of all in front of a 16-year-old who was far too sassy for her own good.

"Yes, I was born in Israel but when my dad pissed off the government, my sister took me to England. We lived in a studio flat with mould on the walls for years, but my school saw I was "gifted" so I skipped most of the first years of high school. I was bumped up and did my GCSE's at 12, a level at 13 and a half. Oxford and Cambridge fought over me and my sister, she was incredible at maths, and we both went to oxford." She finished, her cheeks flushed and slightly embarrassed. She hadn't meant to babble.

"I take it English isn't your first language? Its only that you have a thick accent, slightly Briticised too."

"Yes, my first language was Hebrew, but I can speak Russian and Arabic too."

"Why did you come here?" Tony asked, now fully intrigued by the small Israeli stood in front of him. His eyes tried to take in as much information he possibly could of the teenager in front of him. Her ringlets gradually grew lighter around her jaw from what one would assume was hydrogen peroxide. You could see her incredibly muscular arms through her merlot turtle neck, and her calf muscles through her tight clad legs. Her red nails tapped gently on the stack of files, and her eyes were constantly flickering across the room, drowning in new things to explore.

"I spoke to Dr Banner at a conference at Oxford when I was much younger, I think I must have only been 12, it was before Sokovia." Liora paused for a moment, reflecting on her memory. "I had been invited because I won an award from the exam board. I met Dr Banner and I fell in love with the idea of working in New York, working for a high-flying tech company. Then, around 11 months ago I wrote a paper on a theory Dr Banner was working on, and he remembered me. He asked me to come up and work here. I had no family left so I moved up here and took the internship while studying at the university in the city." Tony sighed after she spoke, leaning back into his chair.

"What is it Dr Banner is working on?" Tony wasn't sure he wanted to know. He figured he already knew, it could only really be one thing. Its all anyone had been working on.

"This brings me back to these." She tapped the files. "Dr Banner wants you to attend the meeting tomorrow, if you can make it." She smiled slightly, before turning around towards the door.

"What's your name again, Friday told me, but it's g now."

"Liora Adelman."

"Well, young-one, tell Dr Banner I might be there tomorrow. I might not be but hey, what's life without being spontaneous?"

"Goodbye, Sir."

Tony watched as the door closed behind her, and he closed his eyes. For months, he had only talked to a few people. He only did what was necessary, only working on the normal stuff, and not trying with anyone or anything. He hadn't been to a meeting in months, and he hadn't spoken to any normal people in months. No newspapers or press had snapped a picture of him in months. But, for the first time in months, he didn't feel drained. It wasn't a long convocation, he hardly knew her, hell, he'd probably never see her again. All those things were probably factors in why he felt normal, to why he felt fine.

Liora reminded him so bloody much of what he wanted from life when he was a teenager. She reminded him of himself, but, you know, in a less rich and arrogant way. A child who lost her parents, a child who had an incredibly IQ and wanted to do good in the world. A child with sass and a child who wanted to be everything.

She reminded him of a bumblebee. She'd lost her parents, and then her sister, but nothing about her screamed "pity me". Tony hadn't ever seen a teenager who buzzed with life as much as the sassy godam Israeli intern. He had to stop growing attached to nerdy and sad children.

Tony felt himself slump backwards in his chair, his eyes heavy with the kilos of sleep deprivation of the past months. Shoes kicked off, the billionaire felt himself slip into the warm pool of the first stages of sleep.

It had been a long day for Tony Stark.

Hullo! I'm Molls and this is my first multi chapter fic! I put this down under humour and your probably thinking "I've read soup tins funnier than that!" and tbh your not wrong. It will get funnier, I promise! I'm actually Deaf, so sometimes my fluency in speech can be a tad off, sorry.

In later chapters, I will be writing about Tony (and other characters) PTSD and other mental health conditions, but I will make sure to say before the start.

I really hope you enjoyed this and please, please, please review! I wanna know how it was and PLEASE point out any grammar, fluency, and things like Mary Sues and Plot holes!

Cheers