Tony had traced Doom's whole journey from Trinidad and Tobago to the JFK airport in New York, damn it, why was Doom always a step ahead of me? I flew until my thrusters bled, and now I'm right where I started! It had its perks being Iron Man, the airport security immediately allowed him access to the airfield where Doom's private jet had landed. It took him only mere moments to find Sophie. She was standing next to a Latvernian official, probably waiting for a car to take her to the main building. A quick scan showed Tony that Doom had already left the premises; his energy signature was fading. He landed next to Sophie and the diplomat who looked at the Avenger with disdain. Tony ignored the man and addressed Sophie: "Sophie… Ms. Linder, are you alright?" He fully expected at least a bewildered look from her, but she stayed perfectly calm.

"Yes, everything is alright, thank you, Iron Man. Doctor Doom treated me well. He… left… for the embassy, I think."

Tony opened his visor, his experience had shown him that people reacted better if they saw that there was actually a human being in the suit. "Listen… I… well, how shall I put it…"

"It's alright, Mr. Stark. The Doctor already told me that it was you who saved us from the virus. Thank you very much!" Sophie smiled at him, it was a little shaky… but after a day in Doom's care it's a wonder if she isn't scarred for life. Or hasn't been transformed into a monster like Sharon Ventura for that matter.

"Well, you seem remarkably calm, Sophie, most people freak out after something like this… so… tell me if you need anything." He handed her his business card.

"Thank you, I appreciate it, really. But if you excuse me, I think I would like to go home now and take a very long shower, have something to drink and eventually I will start to laugh hysterically – not necessarily in that order," she said in complete earnestness.

Oookay, should I ask about that? "Pardon me?"

"Nothing, sorry, it was a bad joke… I just need to rest," replied Sophie, she blushed a little.

"Ah, I see… being the master of tension-relieving jokes I can relate to that…" Tony smiled reassuringly and closed his visor again. "I mean it – call me if you need anything."

"Thank you again, Mr. Stark…"

"Please call me Tony, Mr. Stark was my old man." With that he activated his thrusters and took off. During his flight to the Star-Tower Tony mused shortly about Doom. To his own amazement he wasn't really surprised that Doom had behaved in an almost gentleman-like way. He sighed. I am probably making it too easy for myself, just calling Doom a villain. Sometimes he has been a valuable ally, it's a pity that he is also a power-hungry dictator. Tony thought again about the strange deeds Doom had performed while being in his body. Perhaps he should ask Reed about his long-time nemesis... and scold him once more because Mr. Not-so-Fantastic apparently can't tell the difference between Doom and myself! But first things first, I have to make sure that there is no Doom-tech in my suit.

xxxxx

Sophie closed the door behind her and leaned against the wall, she felt like everything had been a dream... She shortly closed her eyes an inhaled deeply, when she opened her eyes again a tall woman with short brown hair stood in front of her. Laura wore her favourite shabby T-Shirt and had an opened strawberry-yogurt in her hand – never in her life had she been more happy to see her lover.

"Hi," said Sophie and smiled wearily.

"Hi yourself, sugar, you're back already? I thought the conference in Berlin would last until next Monday," replied Laura and kissed Sophie. Then she registered that her girlfriend was holding an unfamiliar piece of cloth. "What's that? A new coat? Where is your bag?"

Sophie absent-mindedly stared at the green cowl in her hands… It was Doom's cape and somehow the very sight of that cloth in her apartment made everything that had happened in past few days real. She let the cowl fall and hugged Laura with all her might. "It was horrible… I'm so glad that I'm home again."

It took Laura approximately one hour to actually understand what had happened to Sophie.

They were lying on their bed, Laura hold Sophie in her arm. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through all that, honey. Do you want to eat something? You must be hungry."

Sophie cuddled up and answered: "Actually, I'm famished… but perhaps you should stay and hold me a little while longer."

Laura smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "What a pity that we don't have a butler…"

Sophie protested but Laura got up and headed for the kitchen. When she passed by the door she saw that Doom's cape was still lying on the floor. Laura crouched down to pick it up when she heard a soft knock on the door. She went to the door and looked through spyhole. Her landlord was standing outside. Impatiently she opened the door and snapped: "We already paid our rent, Mr. Pime…"

But before she could end her sentence she saw that Mr. Pime hadn't come to nag about delayed payment. A gaping hole was in his chest, the only thing that was holding his body on its feet was a large man who was wearing a mask with Crossbones on it. Before she could even scream the man knocked her unconscious and stepped into the apartment.

xxxxx

As much as Victor tried to read reports about the economic development of Latveria, his thoughts wandered back to Sophie. Doom sat in his office in the Latvernian embassy. He replayed the record of their final conversation for the fourth time, even though he had an eidetic memory and remembered everything about it without visual help.

It had been a few years since he had last had feelings for a woman, she was a Latvernian soldier who had served in his palace guard. Irina had never realised that she had caught Doom's eye − after a background check he had decided that her ancestry was too low for him and had thus never acted on his feelings for her. It had been nothing more than a fleeting interest, Victor was not a romantic man – he knew that his feelings would fade eventually and so they did.

What haunted him, however, was a strange feeling that he was becoming more and more distant to his people and their well-being. At times it felt like he didn't care at all about his own country, everything was the same to him. Another scheme failed, another plan succeeded – at the end it didn't matter, there was no development. Encrusted indeed, always the same old tricks and plans, forever stuck being the dreadful Doctor Doom while Richards and even Stark reinvent themselves. Stark has even been head of S.H.I.E.L.D., the villain in the Civil War and the – at least in his opinion – the hero of the Secret Invasion, while he had been the same caricature of a super-villain as ever. He had tried to change, he even allowed Boris to talk back to him and had occasionally visited Ivana in the kitchen to ask about her family.

But in the end Victor had always felt the same reluctance to discard himself, or what he believed to be himself completely – it felt like treason to his person to even consider certain choices he had made in the past as mistakes. Doom wasn't ashamed of his deeds or the way the ruled Latveria, he was certain that he was a better leader than most democratically elected governments, but at the same time he had to acknowledge that he clung too much to his power. In the end it's all for naught… Doomed indeed. Perhaps I should cease my efforts to change, in the end I will always be who I am…

Victor unlocked his armour and pulled his left metallic glove from his hand. He was well aware that his behaviour had become obsessive, but over the course of the last few months it had always had a calming effect on him… to make sure that he was still human.

His right hand, still in the armour, pinched his left. Victor was able to lift around 10 tons with his armour − and it was thrilling to watch and feel what effect this power had on his unprotected hand. Doom moaned as he felt how his skin was broken and watched with morbid fascination how blood ran down his hand. It had been more than a year since somebody had actually hurt him or even caused him discomfort – the armour had kept it all away, everything save his own hand. I'm still here. It's all real. Victor knew that it wasn't a healthy course of action, but it was the only thing that kept him from disassociating completely from his environment.

The concept of solipsism had always been alluring. There had been times when he believed that he alone mattered and that he was the only real person on earth. He feared that one day he would lose his sanity completely and start actually believing that his was the only consciousness in this galaxy. The pain was his anchor.

He thought about Sophie once more while he applied force to his little finger until he could hear the bone break with a dry sound. Victor cursed under his breath and stared at his mistreated hand. I didn't have the urge to make myself feel when I was in Stark's place… It's not about the Fantastic Four, it's not about Sophie. It's about human contact, intellectual and bodily contact. My armour isn't just a shell, it's also my prison – by the seven hells, how banal! Victor snorted to himself. The mighty Dr. Doom, brought down by the fact that all human beings are social! It's almost as embarrassing as being manhandled by the Sandman… Before he could brood any longer over his human side a quiet beep indicated that one of his aides dared to disturb him.

He gritted his teeth as he put his left glove back on; yet the hurt made him feel alive and real. He pushed the button of his intercom with his broken little finger and although a sharp pain make him flinch said with an even voice: "Yes?"

"Lord Doom, I'm deeply sorry to…"

"Yes, yes! What is it?" Victor wasn't in the mood for grovelling servants.

"A letter was delivered to you… from Reed Richards."

Victor was on his feet before the ambassador could speak the last syllable of Mr. Fantastic's name. A letter? A LETTER? How dare he?! He literally tore the door open – his little finger hurt in a most exquisite way – and snatched the letter from the hands of his underling. Victor ripped the envelope open and was taken aback: The letter consisted of an almost empty piece of paper. There were only four letters on it: g1 f3.

Victor's mind stopped, he inhaled deeply and stood without moving almost for a full minute. Thoughts raced through his head, and he felt a strange dull pain in his chest. The ambassador didn't dare to speak, the silence was deafening.

Finally Doom gestured for a pen, which the man next to him officiously provided and wrote on the back-side of the letter: g7 g6. "Deliver this letter to the Baxter Building," he said and threw it on a small table next to him. Then he headed back in his office, closing the door behind him.