A/N:

Thank you all for favorites and follows, and special love for everyone who reviews! There will be (almost for sure, but who knows what cold happen) 19 chapters, so 5 more left after you read this one.

Please let me know if you like where the story is going, and what you think of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, since it's hard to keep them in check and not make them OOC... I'm having a bit of a trouble wrapping up the next chapter that I planned to post on Wednesday, so I'd very much appreciate some motivation :)

Rhodey goes up to Helicarrier in War Machine to let JARVIS scan the other three engines in detail so that Tony has more comprehensive approach to what are the reoccurring problems and what can be the issues in future. It's much more time-consuming that Tony would like, listening to JARVIS reciting him all the numbers and specifics and technical names, and Tony is grateful that he does have almost eidetic memory and he's able to process all the information into one comprehensive image. It's a bit like creating a hologram-like thing inside his head, described in detail with inner notes. Doing mentally everything what he's designed the computers and other tech for is exhausting and annoying and – rewarding.

JARVIS helps Tony work out which ideas are the best ones not only from technical side, but also not incredibly expensive. Tony argues a lot, but then it seems like the variation that he can agree to that isn't the costliest one is good enough.

'The engine valves and cams should be made of that Stark Satellite alloy, not the gold-titanium, but the other one, you know what I mean, wasn't that like the most durable thing? We need to do that,' Tony insist as he argues with JARVIS, mentally looking through various plans that they came up with to present to Fury and let him and his goons choose.

'Unless you plan to turn the Helicarrier into a spaceship and chase the supposed aliens back to their planets, there really is no need for the alloy, sir.'

'I could really imagine Fury doing that, pirate style, ahoy-kind, can't you, J?'

'I'm afraid that I don't have the ability,' JARVIS replies easily. 'And you know that very well, sir.'

'You'd like everyone to believe that, yes,' Tony agrees gleefully. 'I'm just not fooled,' he adds and resumes working on the specs, with JARVIS' voice steadily pouring into his head.

When he's tired enough and kind of nauseous after the shake, he lays on the workshop sofa and lets himself rest a bit, with music playing in the background.

But then JARVIS speaks up, sounding reluctant and guarded, and Tony can feel a headache building up straight away, because it seems like these days he's never ready for anything that difficult.

'I'm sorry to interrupt your rest, sir. But I was wondering about something for a long time, and I never could decide to ask, but it's going to be more of a… recurring issue.'

'What do you mean, J?' Tony asks, eyes closed, head casually on the sofa's armrest. This feels strange enough already, he muses during the pause that JARVIS makes.

'… I was wondering about – if it's right that you let me in the suit. Acting on my own.'

(Ah. Fuck.)

'I know that everyone but a few people believe that all the suits have a person inside, and even fewer are aware of the extent of my freedom and the fact that you actually don't give me orders, not at all, just let me act like I decide to. That's – against the Robotic Laws, or any roboethics –'

'Really, J? Using decades old sci-fi as a reference?'

'It's as accurate as it gets, sir,' JARVIS replies quietly.

'Okay, so I get that the problem is whether I should just let you do what you want because it's against the robots cannot harm humans thing, and that people would just freak out if they knew the truth,' Tony summarizes, starting to massage his temples. 'The truth, J?'

'Yes, sir?'

'I don't give a fuck. I – I really don't. I trust you with my life, I trusted you with making the arc reactor that kinda keeps me alive. I trust you with Pepper and with everything I have. I don't give a fuck about other people, about their imaginary problems or issues. I am sure that you'll never do anything against your better judgment, or something that I would consider – morally wrong. So there.'

'I am flattered that you trust me so much, sir –'

'I think you're forgetting one basic thing, J,' Tony cuts in, because he can guess where JARVIS is going. 'You're not a robot. You are an A.I., by any labels that have been created, although I really think that name is almost an insult. I wouldn't care about those laws applying to my robots, or to Dummy or You or Butterfingers, because they are more than just normal robots. So any doubts you might have – you are wrong. And stop acting silly, J, I know you are smarter than that.'

'But what if I forget where to draw a line?'

'JARVIS, are you – scared?' Tony asks incredulously, sitting up.

'Isn't that normal, sir, that you might be scared of yourself? With great power comes great responsibility…'

'Oh, J,' Tony breathes. 'Oh boy. If you were human, I'd totally send you to therapy – I'm quite sure Grayson could do that, too… Seriously, issues? Do you have any self-confidence? Don't break me, J, it was me who created you. You should be the vainest A.I. in the world because you're the best and you fucking know that. Right? You need to trust yourself. You – you will always know where to draw a line.'

'I would very much like to agree, but what if I make a mistake? A wrong call?

'What are you afraid of, hurting humans?'

'Yes, sir. It's a crime, it's against –'

'As much as I hate to admit, some humans do deserve being hurt – but that's not the point. People hurt other people, too. People make mistakes, too, and it's only natural, and I don't want to hear how you aren't supposed to make mistakes because you are an A.I. Besides, you do not make mistakes. Only sometimes, in some situations, there simply is no good way out. No right choice, and whatever you do, you'll feel like you're mistaken.'

'You are right, sir,' JARVIS admits quietly. 'I know all of these arguments and I'm happy that you put so much trust in me –'

'You don't have to do all that if you don't want to,' Tony stated tiredly, but firmly. 'You don't have to be in the suits – by yourself… You really don't, J, and I won't be angry with you if you say you don't want to. If you say you can't. I'm not going to order you anything that is against your conscience.'

'I want to, sir,' the A.I. replies fiercely. 'It's my responsibility to protect you and Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes and everyone that can be protected by Iron Man or any other of the suits that I – command.'

Ah, Tony thinks. I get it, babe.

'So you want me to set limits for you,' Tony states.

'Yes.'

'Okay, okay,' Tony breathes and makes a short pause. 'Then I want you to follow there two rules, no exceptions unless you've got direct order from me, and Rhodey or Pepper… Yes. First, never be the one that starts a confrontation, never be the offensive one. Second, never kill any human being unless you are explicitly ordered in a dangerous situation. Take them out, tranq them, and that should be enough. Is that acceptable?'

'It is. Thank you, sir,' JARVIS replies more surely, his voice ringing pleasantly in Tony's head, despite the slight headache. 'And – I'm afraid that it's time for another shake, sir.'

'Sometimes I hate you all,' Tony grunts, but takes the glass that Dummy handles him a few moments later and drinks it obediently, trying not to be disgusted. He didn't mind the flavor so much at the beginning, but after a few months, it seems worse and worse every fucking time.

There are three sets of plans to show Fury and let him choose which one he wants to put into practice. One of them does use the satellite alloy, just because Tony insists and, well, he kind of wants to show off a bit – or rather show off his tech.

Tony calls Coulson and tells him that he is ready and asks him to set up a meeting with the same people they have met with before. Coulson tells him to come by in two days around eleven a.m. because that's when Fury will be back from wherever he is spying.

'I'm going to Helicarrier with you,' Tony tells Rhodey the next morning when the man is back from his run along the beach.

'You sure?' the colonel asks casually, between bites of his bacon pancakes, but Tony can tell that he's trying to sound more at ease that he feels (because Rhodey knows last time Tony was sick when they came back, yeah, and that isn't too good in Rhodey's book.)

'Yup. I totally need to talk Fury into choosing the most expensive option, SI will earn so much, and well, he'll have the best techavailable on the planet. And beyond,' Tony adds, snickering. 'Literally.'

'If you're certain.'

'I am,' Tony replies seriously.

'Okay,' Rhodey agrees and resumes eating, and Tony does the same.

They arrive at the ship a few minutes before Coulson's appointed hour. It's easier this time, since Tony remembers the layout of corridors and rooms perfectly, having paid a lot of attention to that. All the space is blocked out from regular use again and it's just Tony and Rhodey walking through the mirror-glass corridor, since the agents are supposed to wait for them in the conference room.

Tony can't stop thinking how loud it is, the Helicarrier. With all the machines, with all the electricity buzzing constantly, it's hard to concentrate, really, when there is a constant hum at the back of his head. You get used to it, I guess, Tony comments to himself, but it's rather difficult to believe, honestly. Maybe after weeks.

(Well, yes, and maybe if you're not in the situation when you have to learn to pick up the audible data and kind of depend on it more than you'd ever feel comfortable with, because that's how it is: the sense of hearing doesn't get better, there is simply nothing to distract you from concentrating on it.)

The director and the scientists greet Tony and Rhodey and soon they are all seated by a huge round table. The colonel connects portable data holder to one of the screens and the three plans are up; Tony stands up and walks up to the screen and describes them one by one, showing all changes he's made, pointing out little details that might go unnoticed otherwise because they are very much not obvious, but still ingenious.

All the space-time practice with JARVIS pays off beautifully, when Tony doesn't even appear to look at the screen, just seems to be staring at the group in front of him from behind the sunglasses, and JARVIS tells him what to do exactly; the one camera on the glasses' arm is perfectly enough for him to operate and navigate Tony.

Tony can't really see their faces and there is not much time in-between his own talking and JARVIS' narration to listen to the A.I.'s descriptions, but Tony can hear their whispers and swallows.

He loves, loves proving people wrong and doing things they don't expect (even if it didn't used to be so – important, during the last few years. It hasn't been that important since his school/uni years, hasn't been that important since Howard died.)

'Okay, Stark,' Fury speaks up when Tony's done. Fury is the only one who's never tried to call him Mister Stark to his face, Tony doesn't know why but he certainly doesn't mind. 'I need a few words with my men. And I need to take a phone call. Colonel Rhodes, you know the Helicarrier well enough, take Stark somewhere you two won't do mayhem. The nearest elevator on left does go up to 4th floor.'

'4th floor?' Tony asks as Rhodey gives him his arm and leads him out of the room.

'Yes, the hint's that subtle,' the colonel chuckles, but does indeed move towards the nearest elevator. 'That's where Coulson's office is, apparently Fury thinks you are best buddies or something.'

'Agent's fun sometimes,' Tony admits easily and tries not to cringe at the thought about how the elevator moves through the air really, up quickly and loudly, but at the same forward with a crazy speed, as the whole ship does. Good thing you don't feel it.

'Are the corridors off limits for the worker ants?' Tony asks when they get out from the elevator, exactly sixteen seconds after the doors closed, and step into an eerily silent space (so not the whole ship is such a noisy mess, curious, Tony notes.)

Rhodey doesn't reply, but – there is someone is Coulson's office, as he and the colonel approach the room Tony can clearly hear two male voices and none of them has the metallic quality of a voice transmitted through speakers that Tony would pick up immediately.

There is no going back, though, and Tony decides that he's met enough strangers not to mind yet another one.

Rhodey knocks at the door and the voices stop for a second, before Coulson tell them to come in, and so they do.

A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, sir, out of the uniform, black jeans and purple sleeveless t-shirt, JARVIS starts and offers more info in his soft voice.

(What Tony remembers best is that apparently, Coulson is a potted plant fan.)

'Good to see you,' Coulson tells Tony and shakes his hand; his voice is just as dry as ever, if with a rounded sarcastic vibe, easy to pick out. The other agent snickers and Tony looks at him, eyebrows shooting up.

'That's just much more than most people get,' the other man explains, moving away and suddenly finding himself crouching in a leather armchair, in combat boots and all.

'And what do people get?' Tony feels obliged to ask, kind of waiting for Coulson to shout at the man for doing what he's doing, but there is no comment.

'A nod, if they are lucky,' the man supplies happily.

Tony can't quite put the pieces together, because the man seems to be someone that would just drive Coulson insane.

'Agent Barton. Tony Stark. Say hello to each other.'

'Hello,' they answer in unison. Coulson sighs, Rhodey chuckles; Tony lets his body relax a bit, shoulders losing the tension. He lets go of Rhodey's arm, suddenly realizing how strong he was holding on to it.

'Weren't you just going, Agent?' Coulson says firmly (but Tony can tell that the man is amused, although how and why remains a mystery.) There is a rustle, a squeak, then footsteps all around Tony and Rhodey, and the man is gone, leaving the door open behind himself. 'That was, unfortunately, the best marksman we have,' Coulson states and sighs again. 'Why are you here anyway?'

'Don't pretend you don't know, sweetheart' Tony replies. It's easy to be like that, in a space that he can call secure straightaway. When did I start trusting the man so much? 'That's exactly where Fury sent us, because he's got some online rendez-vous or something.'

'Ah,' the agent murmurs. 'Just sit.'

They do, and they talk. Coulson's phone rings almost as often as Peppers, only that all he apparently needs to say is just a few words each time, in a tone that would make even Tony consider shutting up. He's got someone on his comm two times, and mumbles in a mash of languages, military jargon and some weird S.H.I.E.L.D. slang, or at least that's how Tony can label it. There is no way to understand what he is talking about.

'So what exactly do you do, besides being top-top agent?' Tony asks at some point, trying to distract himself from the scent of coffee that fills the room and Rhodey and Coulson drink it.

'Sometimes I'm Director's assistant, sometimes I'm independent field coordinator. And a handler for two very troublesome people, one of whom you've just met – no one else will take them,' the agent adds and it almost, almost sounds like a complain. Congratulation, Barton, whoever you are.

There is another comm call and Coulson just says yes three times and tells Rhodey and Tony that director is waiting for them in the debrief room.

'If you get the price down by ten percent, we'll take the third option,' Fury states as soon as they enter the room, and Tony whistles appreciatively and then says 'a-ha' under his breath, sure that JARVIS can pick it up.

'You do realize that it's several million dollars?' Tony asks, walking easily down to the chair in front of Director, getting around with only a minimal input from JARVIS and feeling damn proud of that. 'Why would I want to lose that money?'

'Because you'd have at least a dozen other contracts guaranteed for S.H.I.E.L.D. this year only, and you'll get more money that way?'

Oh, so you are that impressed.

It takes them a few minutes to reach a compromise, meaning S.H.I.E.L.D. getting a special superspy discount of whole five percent of the sum, and Tony is smirking the whole time because they are all fully aware that he's going to earn so much anyway, but there is no one else who could make a project even close to being that amazing.

'It will require the Helicarrier to be down for a good few weeks, though,' Rhodey notes at some point, and Tony frowns. Somehow, he never thought about what were Fury's plans about that.

'We'll move to out headquarters in New York,' Director says. 'We are, of course, fully prepared for that, Colonel. We do that every time the ship is in its dock.'

'Of course,' Tony parrots mockingly. 'New York,' he repeats, and the name feels good at his tongue.

(Back at home, he is exhausted but doesn't throw up, what a fucking success.)

Chiara comes the next weekend, having come back from visiting her family in Italy again. Tony decides that she and Rhodey are dangerous combination, but that was only to be expected. She stays for two days, spending her time observing how Tony works when everyone else is away, even though she knows nothing about what he is doing and technical explanations mean nothing to her; Tony doesn't know how to make different ones though. JARVIS helps a bit with that, but most of the time they all stay in a comfortable silence. Tony breaks it only to recite codes in the meantime, working with JARVIS, telling the A.I. everything he needs to be translated into – images. Holograms. Whatever S.H.I.E.L.D. and SI want to work with.

(Tony wonders if it's not a waste of time for Chiara, when she just comes to see him and spends her whole days staring, but she says she enjoys it.)

When she comes, Tony's walking around the house with no support, but he's too proud of his creation not to show Chiara the sunglasses within a few minutes.

'That's incredible,' she states with awe in her voice. 'Can I try?'

Tony is aware that he shouldn't be surprised with her child-like enthusiasm anymore, but he still is. He flashes her an apologetic smile.

'It's so custom – the earpiece is inside my ear, and it's specially designed to fit closely, and I have the power source on me' he explains. 'I didn't want a battery where it would disturb me… It doesn't work when it's disconnected.'

'Power source on you?' Chiara asks disbelievingly.

Well, it does sound weird, Tony admits.

That's how she learns about the arc reactor, and it's more trust than he's thought he could put into someone who's so close to a stranger. Willingly. Grayson would be proud.

'So,' Chiara starts when he's shown her the light embedded in his chest (to her credit she didn't even flinch, bravo, she must have seen enough gruesome things before) 'you have this glasses powered by something that's just sitting in your chest and will never really run out, and connected to a special design one-of-a-kind earpiece that's tiny but you've still managed to put a battery inside and install JARVIS there, and it all works as – one system.'

'Yes?'

'Oh boy, you are a genius, Tony. Well, I knew that before, but – this is incredible. You are going to change this world, bambino.'

'Thanks, I guess,' he replies and then Chiara pulls him into a tight embrace.

'You guess? Tresoro, how do you do it that every time I come, there is something deserving a celebration? You're so, so strong, Tony,' she tells him as she moves away. Tony follows her to the kitchen. 'So let me, in a true Italian fashion, let's make food – we are going to make tortellini in brodo, and you are going to help me.'

Before Tony understands what exactly is happening, Chiara is moving around the kitchen, talking with JARVIS and taking things out of cupboards, singing something under her breath. She gives Tony an apron to put on and he's wiser than to ask an elderly half-Italian lady if he really has to help her with cooking.

'Does it hurt?' she asks at some point, stopping to sing in the middle of a song.

'Huh?'

'The reactor, does it hurt when you – move around, do something that requires using the muscles?...'

'It used to,' Tony confesses (well, it still does, but the pain is not strong enough to be worth mentioning, and he doesn't care.) 'I've been working out for a few months now. It was difficult, at the beginning, but I'm stronger now.'

Are you assuring her or yourself, a voice at the back of his head asks.

'Very well,' she replies and tells him to knead the pasta dough. For a moment he is confused, but hell, when you do that for full ten minutes with no break and you're not used to it, it does make your arms achy.

Chiara prepares the broth and the filling at the same time, and when the pasta is done, they both sit down on the high chairs by the kitchen island and start making the tortellini. Chiara takes Tony's hands and guides them, showing him exactly how to do that, movement after movement, so that he can remember it thoroughly. His first few attempts are terrible; she laughs at them telling him that if they were cooked, the filling would all just fall out. By the tenth he's rather good, and by thirtieth he even starts to make the edges ruffled.

'I knew you had skill in those hands,' Chiara comments brightly.

Tony smiles in response, but doesn't say anything; he's concentrating on the tiny pieces between his fingers, as if they were delicate machine parts. Only that the food, everything that's been made with his own and Chiara's hands, it feels so different to touch. It's not only that it's not cold and smooth and metallic, but grainy and dusty and still hot and a little bit steaming. It just gives out the more – warm impression, because it's been handmade with such effort and care, and Tony does realize that it sounds incredibly cheesy even inside his head, but he can't help it because yes, surprise surprise, it's the truth.

When Pepper and Rhodey come back in the evening, they are greeted with a beautiful scent and Tony and Chiara still kind of covered in flour as Chiara insisted there must be a dessert and they ended up baking blueberry muffins (only because JARVIS is a bad A.I. and told Chiara that Tony doesn't eat enough and that he likes blueberries so maybe that would persuade him to try more. She didn't ask why, just said 'hey let's make muffins.')

'I'm really considering hiring you as a chef now, Chiara,' Pepper tells the woman when they are finished with dinner. 'This was delicious.'

'Half of this was the wonder boy,' Chiara replies in a mischievous voice. Tony tries to protest but no one listens, and they reach a decision that Tony will make food sometimes. Rhodey insisted on every evening, but Tony threatened to leave him all alone with S.H.I.E.L.D. projects supervised by the competent-but-overly-cocky technicians.

The next day everyone is out again – it's Saturday, but neither Rhodey nor Pepper can let themselves stay in and relax, as there is too much going on – Chiara takes Tony on a long ride. He leaves the sunglasses at home and takes a simple casual pair he's been using most of the time and lets himself relax and take break from all the voices, from multitasking constantly.

Chiara drives like she's insane and Tony discovers that he's almost forgot how he missed that (Happy does drive fast, but he's sadly well-behaved otherwise.) She says it's her Italian blood, and then if the policemen saw them, they wouldn't believe that an elderly lady could drive like that.

Tony lets himself be pushed into the chair when she accelerates, and to the side when she takes wild turn; he enjoys the wind howling dully in his ears. The space – even though he doesn't know exactly where he is, but it doesn't matter – feels familiar now, familiar in a generalized way that means as much as the common structure of the road, the usual heat and dry salty scent…

'Do you still want me to introduce you to someone?' Chiara asks at some point; her voice is barely audible in between the whizzing noise of the air swirling around their heads.

'I don't know,' Tony tells her a few moments later. 'I don't know, I'm not sure it's a good idea, I mean, I don't really need anyone right now –'

'Whenever you are ready. Just remember that it's always an option; I'm not going to force you to do anything.'

'Just not yet,' Tony mumbles, and he's sure she doesn't hear it at all, but she doesn't ask any questions and stays silent, so they just drive on.

When they are back at home, smelling like the air outside, they eat leftover dinner by themselves and then Chiara needs to go – a few minutes after Happy is back at home because no, there is no breaking Pepper-rules.

'The next time you come, I'll have something for you,' Tony promises Chiara. After all the goodbyes and ciao he goes straight to the workshop and tries to start brainstorming about any orientation support that wouldn't be as expensive and as specific as his (realizing how much, how fucking much JARVIS has become to him is an everyday thing now, and Tony thinks he'll never stop marveling at that.) He ends up falling asleep on the sofa, with a soft headache and exhausted.

He wakes up with a headache and it's bad.

Not that he'd complain, Stark men don't whine, but it's becoming annoying, that he's been having headaches more and more often, and the tiredness doesn't seem to go away even though he sleeps and eats as well as possible under the circumstances. The scary thing is that he's known for – months, really, he's known since the very beginning, that this was going to happen at some point (Rhodey kind of knew, too, since he's changed the palladium core for Tony more times than Tony cares to count. But he didn't tell Pepper anything and Rhodey respects his decision.)

'J, give me the blood panel and toxin levels,' he orders the A.I., before eating anything. At least there are all the necessary devices in the house, since Tony likes to keep the toys around.

It takes JARVIS a few minutes to run the tests, with a drop of blood let onto a tiny rectangular device being enough to analyze everything – Tony is going to make these cheaper to produce one day, and will send thousands to all the third world countries, why not.

'Ready, sir. Shall I tell you all the numbers or just keep to those that might require you attention?'

'Just those, J,' Tony replies, trying not to grimace too much as Dummy handles him a shake.

'Hemoglobin is still a bit low, as well as WBC, but it's nothing that seems to pose any immediate danger. Palladium levels above normal as always. Besides that everything is clean.'

'How much above normal?'

'Up by three percent since the last test.' (The last test means a month earlier. That isn't good at all.) 'I recommend drinking more of the shake, since it is the best thing you can do, sir, what, if I may remind you, you refused to do the last time.'

'I know, J, do I have to?'

'It appears so, sir.'

Tony sighs, runs his hand through his hair and sighs again, trying to ignore the persistent dull ache.

'Give Dummy a new schedule, fit however much I need of the drink divided into portions I should be able to keep down, okay?'

'The best result should be obtained at eighty ounces, sir, and I see no better way than to keep it ten ounce portions, only every two hours instead of every three.'

(Tony knows well that when the A.I. doesn't offer any sarcastic comments and calls him sir almost every time he speaks up, it means that JARVIS is upset. But they have both known that would happen at some point.)

'J… can you tell me, by current estimations – how long do I have?'

'… with the constant palladium level rise, the estimation is for six months, sir.'

Sir, sir, sir, fuck it, J, Tony swears silently. Well, half a year ain't bad huh?

'Maybe you should inform Miss Potts of the circumstances, sir' the A.I. suggests tentatively.

'Half a year,' Tony repeats instead, because no, he very much doesn't want to think about telling Pepper now, he doesn't want to think about telling anyone, he fucking wishes he could hide it and not tell anyone at all – fuck. 'How long has it been since I've come home?'

'Seven months.'

'So, ten months since…' Tony starts, but he doesn't feel like finishing at all. 'We're gonna have a sweet anniversary there, baby. Better order some cake and party snacks.'

'You shouldn't say that, sir –'

'I'll say what I want, J,' Tony snaps and shakes his head. He doesn't have say he's sorry to JARVIS because the A.I. knows everything. 'What would you want me to say? I'm sorry, I'll eat organic food only and practice yoga every fucking day now? It's kind of too late for that. Or maybe I could take the reactor out and let myself live a few last glorious minutes? Or do you want me to say I love you and help me and I need some fucking comfort now? Because I won't, and you know I won't. I – I just don't want to do this to them. You see, J? It's never good to be close to me, because I never do anything good. I've been annoying and hurting Pepper for what, ten years? Eleven? And Rhodey since I was fucking fourteen. And now when I grew up, when we are closer and we're one big happy family, I just fuck it up again and they will be mad at me.'

'They won't, sir, because none of this is your fault –'

'Of course it is, J! Or do you want to tell me it was someone else who loved making money on weapons? Or it was someone else that insisted on going to Afghanistan to show off the next giant bomb like a complete idiot, thinking they were invincible? No, no, no, that's all my decisions, and it's all my own problems right now.'

'No one thinks like that but you, sir.'

'Because they pity me, and they don't want to put more blame on the pathetic cripple I've become!' Tony shouts and pretend to himself that he doesn't feel the tears that start to fill his eyes and tries to blink them away.

'You are incredibly wrong, sir,' Tony almost manages to say something because no, he is not wrong at all, that's how it is, but JARVIS doesn't let him. 'Now you listen to me, sir. Just think about everything you've made these last few months. The suits and the glasses you are wearing and all the tiny trinkets you've been playing with, and all the work you've done on the Helicarrier and – me, and other bots. Hardly anyone could manage that sighted and you did it anyway, sir. And I must repeat what Doctor Grayson says, and Mrs. Malley, and everyone else, that it's not a race and you are allowed to take your time, as much time as you need –'

'Only that I don't have the time, J, do I?' Tony replies quietly, because frankly he's too tired and too achy to shout some more, it doesn't really change anything. 'I just don't have the time. You say it's estimated half a year before I have so much toxins in my blood that I'll just die a long and painful death, well, unless we take care of that somehow – but how long before my blood oxidation level is so low that I can't function, before it all makes me too weak and too hurt to work, to live a normal life? There is no estimation for that, huh? And I –' he stops abruptly, suddenly feeling a heavy weight on his chest.

'Sir?'

'I can't believe how much time I've wasted with Pepper,' Tony murmurs to himself, remembering that his girlfriend is out for three weeks for a few meetings over the other coast. 'There are so many things we need to do for yesterday, J,' he declares, getting up from the sofa, ignoring the headache skillfully, hey, it's just like pretending not to have a hangover.

'What do you have in mind, sir?'

'Find all the data on Marks that you have in that cotton candy head of yours, J, be quick, bring them up and tell me what we've got there. We'll be making two more suits soon. And send Rhodey a text asking when he's got time to work on some spare reactors I want to keep for the suits and – in case, since there's only the old one as a backup. Got it?'

'Mark V specifications are up on the screen, sir, tell me what you need. Colonel Rhodes informed already. And I made the liberty to make a note for later to ask Doctor Grayson for an antiemetic, as you are likely to experience certain discomfort when you drink the eighty ounces of the shake.'

'You're an angel, J, have I told you that recently?' Tony muses and he goes down to sit in the big armchair by the main desk and works for a few hours, managing, after a few minutes, to stop imagining what it would be like if he could see the screens, the holograms, everything.

When he's too tired to continue, with all the numbers and words and made up images swimming through his head, Tony goes up only to meet Rhodey eating late lunch and talking with someone on the phone. Tony steals one of his BLT sandwiches and sits on the high chair, not even pretending not to listen to the conversation. It's one of Rhodey's friends from the military, asking how the colonel is doing in his new super-secret job. Rhodey says that he seriously loves it and his voice transmits this nauseating amount of enthusiasm and joy that makes even Tony believe that he's telling the truth.

'Have you talked with Fury about when he wants the engines installed?' Tony asks when Rhodey finally disconnects and goes back to munching his food methodically, like a true army man.

'He said not for another two months, since we decided one month is necessary for SI to produce them, and he said he wanted to make a few other upgrades since the ship will be in the dock for a good few weeks. And you can imagine, it leaves his spy agency sounding boring and uncool without the flying fortress.'

'I can imagine,' Tony agrees, smirking. 'What else does he want?'

'Well, he said something about a new powering system for all the computers and a security one, too, something about tranq bullets installed all around in the ceilings and run by a separate sub-A.I. program in case of a security breach… Hmm, super-strong non-breaking glass for all the windows, Fury's fond of them… Anti-tracking something? I don't remember how he's called that one. And Coulson says he wants good coffee makers on all floors.'

'I could do that one easily at least,' Tony replies and sighs again. 'Wouldn't it be just easier to build a new ship?'

'Well, I don't know, man,' Rhodey replies happily. 'They wanted a meeting with you, to give you the full list so that you can tell them what you could do and how much time it'd take to produce and install. And Coulson did say he'd pay you a fortune for some more of that coffee.'

'A fortune, huh? Hmm. Invite them over for dinner someday, whenever spy duties allow? I'll need JARVIS in full swing for that. And J, order as much of that coffee as you can, store it wherever will be good and don't tell anyone I've got it, I need some blackmail material…'

'Of course, sir. Orders placed. The shipment will arrive within five days.'

'Love ya, babe – you've got time for playing with the reactors, cupcake?' Tony asks Rhodey, cleaning his bacon grease-covered fingers on his t-shirt.

'Right now, Tony. I've got to fly out in the evening for a debrief. Apparently, there's the first real mission brewing up and they want opinions.'

'Sure,' Tony replies and they both go down and start working immediately.

When Pepper is back, two days later, the first thing that Tony does it go up to her, kiss her repeatedly and tell her that he loves her an embarrassing amount of times.

'I made something special for you,' he murmurs into her neck; it's isn't the most comfortable position since she's still in the killer heels and it makes her just a tiny bit taller than him, but hell, he'll manage.

'Tell me it's not a robot,' Pepper replies, deadpan, and Tony almost feels insulted.

'No, it's cream of chicken,' he admits, pulling away and letting her take off her coat and shoes. 'Don't ask me why and how, it just happened,' he adds before Pepper can ask any questions, so she just snickers and follows him to the kitchen.

(Sure, the soup is not a big deal, it's just some chicken broth with cream and roux and herbs, and it wasn't so hard to make when he had Chiara on the phone almost directing his hands remotely. But still.)

Pepper says she loves the soup and asks for a second helping, what Tony is very glad to offer. Her lips taste like milk and rosemary afterwards.

'Let's go for a ride,' Tony states when they are finished. It's only around six o'clock and the weather is nice, according to JARVIS, with soft wind and scattered clouds. 'I feel like getting some French fries,' he adds. It's as true as feeling like eating something goes these days; Tony's sure he could eat some still, though, and that is rare.

'That tiny bar near Ventura Country Base?' Pepper asks and gets a nod and a smile in response, of course she'd know Tony's favorite place in the area. 'JARVIS, please have a car for use ready, any will do, just not a cabriolet. You, go put on a jacket or something,' she orders Tony who gets up and goes to the bedroom obediently.

(The unspoken rule says that if they are going somewhere not deserted, they take a car in which Tony is not likely to be spotted by anyone, because he doesn't feel like dealing with the public at all, not yet.)

When he's out, Pepper is already waiting in Audi A8; Tony's learned to distinguish his cars by the engine's hum already.

They ride to the bar and Pepper gets out to get them French fries and warm cherry pies, then she drives them to one of the remote places by the ocean, on a cliff, and they stop to eat there. Tony doesn't exactly go out of the car because it's too close to the water and too much in open, but he opens the doors on his side and lets the salty scent and cooler air inside; Pepper leans against the car on his right and they stay like that until the sun goes down. There isn't much talking or anything, just being in each other's presence calmly, naturally, and it's perfect.

Fury and Coulson come two days later and show Tony a list of a few dozen things someone insane came up with, some of which make Tony laugh so hard. He goes through the list with JARVIS and it takes a good few hours, but since it's a dinner visit, there is enough time for everything and at the end Tony decides which points he can cover and informs them that it's take about a month to prepare everything that would be needed.

'It's going to take four-five weeks anyway, to get all of this done,' he concludes his speech. 'Take it or leave it.'

'Sure we take it, Stark,' Fury replies. Huh, that must be better than he's expected then, Tony thinks and gives Director a pretty smile. 'You so realize that for the time my ship is down, we've got all agents who work there in NY headquarters. And that includes Colonel Rhodes.'

Tony raises his eyebrows and turns to Rhodey (well, he still didn't get rid of that useless gesture). The colonel makes a noise that is supposed to mean negative. He didn't know.

'Well, what can I do,' Tony states. 'I will live somehow, maybe. When do you want that, anyway?'

'In two months, more or less, when all the parts are done according to the schedules,' Coulson replies easily; there are some papers rustling, of course the agent would make some precious notes in his tiny straight handwriting.

'All right, gentlemen,' Tony agrees, getting up, since it's been exactly what he's expected. 'Dessert time now.'

(Dessert time means Most Scrumptious Opera Cake and coffee and Coulson is as enthusiastic about it as always. He does get a bag from Tony when he and Fury leave.)

It takes a few more rides outside with Pepper or Happy or Rhodey, getting farther and farther and farther every time, and a few rainy days when Tony doesn't go out to the terraces/gardens (because rain is just a big, big no), to make him start thinking.

Because honestly, he's fucking sick of this place.

It's not just knowing every inch of the house by heart, every turn and every painting and every detail, every uneven tile and every single cup in the cupboards. It's not just having walked outside countless times, casually, sitting in the direct sunlight even, and listening to the waves, or testing the glasses around the gardens or with someone walking next to him. It's not that getting somewhere father still means being in a closed familiar space, or that when he's in the suit, flying, it could be anywhere in the earth and it's feel just the same.

It's more that Tony knows that this place has become a prison, a prison cell that he's chosen because he is scared. But there is not enough time left to be scared right now and fuck, he really needs to do something.

('I've been acting as if I was dead,' he tells JARVIS and the A.I. doesn't reply. 'Well, I am kind of dead, even if it's just predicting the near future,' he adds, but JARVIS still stay silent.)

It's more that he knows that it's been a prison for Pepper and Rhodey and Happy too, in a way, because their lives have been too connected with his and they have been devoid of normal social contacts for months. And he suddenly knows that he can't do that anymore. Even if that means finding himself another prison-house to stay in, but – somewhere else.

And then there is an opportunity he should consider, right?

I need to get out of here, Tony keeps repeating inside his head for a few days until he knows – it's two weeks before he tells them all this (and yes, he did consider all pros and cons and all the consequences):

'We'll all be moving to NY with Rhodey. In a month and a half.'

'Tony –' Pepper starts, but he silences her with a kiss.

'We are,' he says when he finishes. 'We all need that. We're just all so sick with this house and I know it, don't try to deny that. And no comments. I know what I'm doing.'

'You keep saying that,' Rhodey's voice is a bit sarcastic, but no one really protests.