Tony had his sunglasses on before he had even left the building. Years of protecting his eyes during horrific hangovers had made it second nature. He looked round and as expected his best friend was stood there waiting for him.

"Pepper baby tell me that is coffee you have there and that it is for me?" Tony held out his hands for the take out cup the blond woman in front of him was holding.

"It is and it is," Pepper handed the cup over and opened the door to the car she was stood next to, "Come on, let's get you home."

Tony reluctantly followed her into the car. It's not that he was opposed to being driven home more the going home part. He knew that Pepper only wanted to make sure he was ok but that kinda made him feel worse about all this. He hated when she worried and he could tell from the way she was looking at him that she was worried.

"So what's with the coffee and the ride Pep? Not that I am not eternally grateful of course." Tony laid on the charm like he usually did, peering over the top of his glassed at her in a way he knew would make her smile.

"Well I just wanted to make sure that the session had gone ok. That you hadn't killed your therapist and ended up in jail. You know, the usual."

"You sure you don't mean wanted to make sure I had gone to the session?" Tony hadn't meant it to come out quite as snarky as it did. He winced and shrugged an apology at Pepper.

"The thought has crossed my mind," she replied. "I'm sorry Tony but it's not like you wanted to go. You don't have a great reputation for doing things when you're supposed to." She sighed. "I don't want to pick a fight with you. You went to your session, I'm pleased you went and I wanted to make sure you were ok. That's all there is too it. Ok?"

Tony looked at Pepper, saw the genuine concern in her eyes and gave in. "Yeah Pep, ok." They lapsed into silence. Tony and Pepper had known each other for years so it was a very comfortable silence. She focused on driving them home while Tony just looked out of the window and let his mind wander. Not grabbing onto any of his thoughts but just letting them trickle through his mind like sand. In no time at all they were at his house.

"You wanna come up?" He asked.

"I know you don't really want me to so I'm gonna say no." Pepper raised her hand to stop Tony protesting. "You want some time to lick your wounds, I can see that. Just, promise me you will eat something and not drown yourself in alcohol."

"Yeah I promise." He doesn't quite meet her eyes. This is a game they've played before. He tries not to lie to her and she tries to believe him. Sometimes it actually works.

"I'll stop by in the morning on my way to work, make you breakfast." Pepper grabs his hand as he leaves the car. "Be up by 8:30 ok?" Tony nods and kisses her on the cheek.

"You're an angel Pepper." he gives her a sweeping bow and she laughs at him. As she drives off Tony heads up the stairs to the front of his house and lets himself in. Heading straight for the kitchen he fixes himself a huge mug of coffee and pulls the diary out of his bag. A diary. He can't honestly remember if he has ever kept a diary. Notebooks sure, full of maths and science and ideas for fantastical things but not a diary. Not somewhere to write about personal things. Where is he supposed to start? Staring out of the giant French windows his eyes are drawn to a bird nipping across the garden. He's always been fascinated with birds. How he would love to be able to fly. To just be moving along above the world seeing everything. All of life reduced to patterns and tiny moving parts. It sounded blissful. Grabbing the book he dumped it on the kitchen table and went in search of a pen. Usually he just dictated things into a tiny machine and then hooked it up to his computer later. He'd written a program especially for his voice so the computer typed it all up flawlessly. So pens weren't really something he had a huge use for. Finally he found one at the very back of the drawer where all the broken plugs and bits of electrical wire ended up.

He heads over to the table and sits down. Looking at the book he already feels uncomfortable. This is far too much like being at school. Looking around he shifts everything to the sofa and tried to get into a comfortable position, coffee mug on the floor, book balanced on his knee. Nope this wasn't working either. Frustrated he picks up his mug again and heads into the basement. It's half workshop, half science lab and all playground for Tony. This is where he builds and breaks all the crazy things that come into his head. This one room is more home than the rest of the house. If he's honest with himself this one room is more home to him than anywhere else on the planet. Dropping the book onto the main work surface and carefully putting down his coffee he lets out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. His shoulders relax and he can feel himself letting the outside world go. Maybe this is what he should write about. How in this one room he is just Tony. Not Anthony Stark. Not Howard Stark's son. Not the playboy, the genius, the screw up. Just Tony.

So he does. He writes about the day he built this room and the day he nearly blew it up. How his father never stepped foot in here and even if he had wanted to Tony wouldn't have let him. The only person other than him who gets to be in here is Pepper. He writes about the bird he saw and how he would make himself fly. He sketches rocket packs and jet engines then continues to write around the doodles. He writes about the promise to eat that he is going to break and the one about not drinking which he has already broken. There is always a bottle in the basement. He writes as if a damn has broken. Words just spilling out of him. The more he drinks the more he writes and even though he is starting to find it a little hard to focus on his writing it is still impeccable. He writes for hours about all the things he would never say to anyone and falls asleep in the basement slumped over the book. When Pepper arrives in the morning to make him breakfast he leaves the book on the table with a wrench on top of it as if to hold it shut against the secrets that are trying to escape. He doesn't touch it again before his next session.

Author's Note

Ooh I actually enjoyed writing this one. Hopefully I managed to make it sound like Tony, or at least how I think Tony sounds in his own head. As always your comments and criticisms are greatly appreciated.